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“That’s not how it works.”

Shimazaki presses the cigarette to his lips and inhales lazily, and although Teru doesn’t make a sound, the faint ripple of his aura gives him the distinct impression that the boy is annoyed with him for providing such a dismissive answer. But what can the kid expect, honestly? Teruki’s always so full of energy after sex, and Shimazaki’s starting to suspect that it’s because he sucks it all out of him while they’re going at it. He feels boneless against the teenager's wet bedsheets, barely able to reach back far enough to tap off the ashes on his cigarette into Teru's mug of cold tea, left untouched since this afternoon.

When he finally exhales, Teru slides across his chest to snatch his cigarette from him, and between the dried-to-tacky sweat on their skin and the way that Shimazaki extends his arm to keep it out of reach, he’s unsuccessful - but only for a moment. The hot, syrupy thickness of Teru’s energy is suddenly surrounding his fingers, pressing between and prying them apart, and since he’s actually pretty comfortable where he is, Shimazaki decides that he’d rather not teleport out from underneath Teru’s naked, wriggling body just for the sake of winning a half-hearted game of keep-away. So he just lays there and snorts faintly as he feels the sparkling heat of triumph flutter through Teru’s aura, and exhales slowly so that he can breathe in harmony with Teru’s steady inhale from his cigarette.

“So,” Even satiated as he is, Shimazaki thinks that the soft, wet rasping sound of Teru licking his lips might be enough to put him in the mood for a second round. But it’s been more than a few years since he abandoned his senior thesis so that he could skip town and chase another man’s dreams of world domination, and he’ll need more time to re-arm before he can manage that. So, for now he just listens as Teruki exhales, and tilts his head inquisitively when Teruki clears his throat to speak. “How does it work, then? What does it look like?”

“Has it occurred to you that I probably don’t know what ‘looking’ looks like?” He can’t restrain the smirk when he says it, and the way that Teru stiffens wrings a sharp laugh out of him. Apparently that’s enough for Teruki to call the level of offense that has just passed between them even, because rather than apologizing, he just huffs irritably around another drag on Shimazaki’s stolen cigarette. Laughter feels like it's given Shimazaki a bit of an energy boost, so the arm that he left draped against the sheets on the other side of Teru’s body rises up, and he trails lazy fingertips up the length of Teru’s spine, satisfied when goosebumps begin to write incoherent braille on his flesh. It doesn’t seem like the boy’s actually interested in pressing him for answers anymore, but now that he’s feeling a little revitalized, Shimazaki decides that he’s in a mood for sharing.

“I don’t think that what I’m doing is necessarily ‘seeing’ auras, not the way you’re picturing it.” He drums his fingers over the subtle bumps of Teru’s vertebrae like piano keys, idly admiring the way that his aura starts to shimmer, spreading open above him like a warm blanket. “It’s more like I can just feel them... maybe even hear them,” Shimazaki is starting to realize that he isn’t used to explaining himself in any capacity, as much out of a fondness for maintaining a sense of mystery as a simple lack of skill. But he chooses his words carefully, letting his fingers creep up between Teru’s shoulder blades, slowly skimming higher until they run up against the soft, fine hair at the nape of his neck. He starts to knead slow circles into the knotted muscles he finds at the base of his skull, and feels the way that Teru relaxes, the way that he lowers his head to welcome his ministrations and fine, soft hair dusts over the bridge of his nose. Briefly, he feels a bit sentimental about how vulnerable Teru’s willing to be around him now, but he persuades his mind to meander away from those unnervingly tender places and back to the topic at hand. “When I ‘look’ at you, I’m really just feeling your energy. I can tell where you are and where you’re about to be because of the way that it ripples, and the way those ripples bounce off of my aura.”

Teru’s voice is soft and almost drowsy, but he still sounds like he’s fascinated by what he’s hearing when he says, “So it’s like… echolocation?”


That earns him another unsatisfied huff, and Shimazaki laughs lightly, curling his fingers against the back of Teru’s neck and tugging him down. Rather than going in for a kiss – which he can tell Teruki was anticipating, because he feels the way that his head tilts to receive him and the way that he glows - he ducks his head down so that he can nip at his throat instead, then has to stifle a snort against Teruki’s skin when the boy sputters and coughs in response, hot little puffs against his temple. Something inside of him feels like it swells, suddenly too large for his chest, hot like sunlight and Teru’s aura, and this expansive thing wants to spill out of him and into a million kisses across Teru’s soft skin, to pepper over every scar he’s ever given him- but he holds it down, quietly contained until the surge of it subsides, and instead he presses a single slow, lingering kiss over Teru’s fluttering pulse.

“Hey, Teru… wanna go again?”