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Brain-Space
An Pierrot fanfiction for my bb smilies/icon_heart.gif
Aiji/Kohta; hair, red, napkin

~.~.~

"So why couldn't you ask Shinya to help you?"

Kohta knew that had his brother been in the room (or anywhere in the apartment in general), the guitarist would have used his stage name. As it was the pair of them were alone, Kohta with a towel draped around his bare shoulders and Aiji putting on the plastic gloves that came with the dye kit. "He's not going to be back for a few days and my roots have gone mad," the currently bi-color-haired male said, a hand reaching up to run through said dark roots. "He didn't tell me he was leaving until today."

"Meaning he told you a week ago and you only just remembered today," Aiji said, rolling his eyes as he added the powered into the mix. "Good job - an A+ at leaving things to the last minute again."

"How was I supposed to know-"

"Yeah, yeah." Shaking the bottle Aiji moved to walk around his friend, a hand gripping his hair and forcing his head forward. "Now keep still."

"You don't have to be so rough," Kohta grumbled though he did as he was told, eyes closing as the fingers gripping his hair relaxed and begun to run over his scalp. The bleach was cold and unlike Kirito, Aiji went for a more hands-on approach to root touch-ups, forging the tinfoil and brush and comb and using sight and feel to find the spots needed. That did tend to be messier-

"Argh! It's my hair that needs coloring, not my neck!"

"Oh don't be such a baby - here, pass me that napkin."

Looking up Kohta reached out to snag the damp paper towel, holding it up for Aiji to take. The touch of the cloth was almost as bad as the sudden cold splatter against his neck from the cream but soon Aiji had set the napkin aside and Kohta hitched the white towel up higher to cover the area.

"This is so awkward," Aiji muttered once he was halfway done, hands falling away. "Don't you have a higher chair?"

Looking over his shoulder Kohta saw as the slender man straightened, stretching his arms over his head and rolling his shoulders as if trying to get a kink out of his back. "Not really," he replied, shrugging a bit. "I could stand?"

"No, you'd be too tall then - I just have the front to do, you can deal with it for that long?"

Deal with what? The question was on the tip of the blond's tongue when Aiji straightened to walk around to Kohta's front and, without preamble, straddled his waist.

"Uh, Aiji-"

"Shh." The lime-green hair seemed florescent with how close it was to Kohta's face. It was easier to focus on the bright strands than the face inches from his own. "I'm not that heavy. This'll take five minutes, ten at the most."

Swallowing Kohta fell silent as the slender fingers went back to work. It was true that Aiji wasn't heavy at all; he wasn't even on Kohta's lap, not really. There was perhaps a half-foot of space between their bodies and his rear hovered between Kohta's thighs, the lanky male's knees at the blond's waist. I don't think he even has to shave, Kohta thought with a twinge of envy as his gaze flickered along the pale jaw before him. Aiji stretched, jaw slipping out of sight and showing off the delicate arch of pale skin of the male's throat. A moment of searching and Kohta could see the faint flicker of the guitarist's pulse underneath the skin, steady as the beat of time. Aiji tended to be so calm and cool. Steady as his pulse...

When asked later, Kohta couldn't pinpoint exactly why he did it. One moment he was sitting, hands raised to Aiji's waist though not touching, watching the beat of his pulse; the next moment his lips were pressed against warm skin, the sharp gasp and sudden burst of cold against his scalp alerting him to an alarming amount of bleach applied.

None of that mattered; he had broken Aiji's calm facade if the reaction, coupled by the almost painful grip of gloved hands on his scalp, mean anything. Teeth worrying at the skin a sound between a gasp and a gurgle was pulled from the male on his lap and when Kohta finally pulled away the fluttering pulse was drumming madly against skin flushed red, the surface still somewhat damp from his mouth.

"You-" Kohta couldn't help the smug satisfaction from flowing through him at the breathless sound of Aiji's voice. "You bit me! What the hell?!"

Kohta noticed that while the other was still gripping his hair, he hadn't actually tried to pull him away. Going with instinct he leaned forward to run his tongue over the reddened skin, feeling the lime-haired male shudder against him. "I did. Did you not like it?"

Aiji was silent, save for the harsh breaths puffing against Kohta's forehead. The hand gripping his hair pulled back and Kohta's head was forced up, meeting wide, dark eyes. The pair sat like that for a time, the blond speaking after a few moments had passed. "We should finished this," he said, gaze flickering up to indicate his hair. "And then you should stay."

Aiji's gaze flickered up as well, fingers rubbing at the base of Kohta's scalp. "For how long?"

"Well, Kirito isn't due back for another day and a half..."

Later, When the bleach was washed out and the both men were flushed red, Kohta reminded himself to thank his poor memory and last-minute planning. Sometimes it could lead to pleasant opportunity.





 
 
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