When Byakuran kisses him, it burns.
Not figuratively, not like how the harlequin romances the Cervello are fond of, describe kisses. Not like a pleasant warmth that makes him feel safe. When Byakuran kisses him, it feels like Shoichi sipped hot tea too fast, like he accidentally clamped an iron on his lips or like he swallowed hemlock. Byakuran's kisses are like swallowing fire with no prior training, like being stuck in a burning home.
Shoichi isn't an expert regarding sex – after all, he never leaves his job and there is no way he'd be with one of the Cervello; something about that seems just wrong.
More wrong the Byakuran? the little voice that still is sane asks.
Perhaps. But probably not. You probably can't get anything worse then Byakuran.
Byakuran is not a nice man, and he's not playing with a full deck of cards. But that doesn't change that Byakuran is a beautiful man, with ideals for a new world and more delicious power then anyone Shoichi has ever met.
Byakuran is delicious in his insanity. The masochist in Shoichi loves how rough the other man can be while still smiling as if talking to a small child.
The sane part of Shoichi, the part that screams "Bad idea! Bad idea!" every time Shoichi wanders to Byakuran's bed (or couch or floor or wall or car or desk or chair or bookcase or crates) can't stop Shoichi from blushing like a virginal girl every time Byakuran calls. Sanity can't stop Shoichi from getting all blustery whenever the Milliefore boss is involved. The sanity Shoichi has left doesn't stop him from giving up ten minutes to look into what exactly each flower, each stem means whenever he gets a new bouquet (s) .
Nothing about Byakuran is sane. Shoichi vomited when he first saw a murdered body. Byakuran licked the blood that had splattered on his face and kissed Shoichi dramatically with blood-lust still in his eyes after killing a man.
It's so sick; it's so wrong. But Shoichi's gotten used to dead bodies in a way he never thought could happen and he's even gotten used to kisses that taste like copper.
When they're together its roses and candles but it only takes a little while to learn that roses have thorns and that candles can burn if you make a mistake.
Shoichi's made plenty of mistakes. He's made lists and he's analyzed them. He's good at that; seeing trends no one else notices. Shoichi is good at seeing the little things that don't really matter except they do and that's what makes him so damn dangerous.
Shoichi doesn't smoke. He doesn't drink; he doesn't do heroin but who said drugs have to be chemicals?
Byakuran is a sort of drug, a drug like caffeine. Byakuran is what keeps Shoichi up at night, a boogey man if he's absent and if he's not?
Only a fool sleeps with his back to the devil.
Shoichi doesn't lie to himself. Byakuran is amazing. He's got these beautiful dreams, these beautiful eyes.
When they kiss, even if it tastes of flowers and decay, Shoichi knows that there is love in the kiss.
When they fuck, when they talk, when they breathe Shoichi knows that there is love. How can there not be?
Byakuran is the monster under his bed, Shoichi thinks.
But ever since Shoichi was thirteen he's been fascinated by the sort of monsters that disguise themselves so beautifully