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Atsuhiro grumbled at the sight ahead of him as he slowly sloshed his drink around in an attempt to circle it.
There was Kurogiri. His beautiful, lovely Kurogiri. They stood in their forever polite yet defensive stance and stayed quiet despite all the people around them. Because they weren’t talking to them. No, they were talking to their Master. Atsuhiro could guess the only reason the bastard had deemed Kurogiri ’worthy’ of being there at his side at an event such as this was just so he could have something pretty to put his arm around.
Atsuhiro wondered for the millionth time tonight why he had come to this hellish event in the first place. Of course, he knew the answer. He’d begged Kurogiri to slip him an invite for a reason. And it wasn’t just to get drunk at the posh bar. No. He did it in hopes of getting Kurogiri alone at some point tonight. He knew it would be a time consuming task but he hadn’t calculated how angry it would make him.
All for One had ingrained himself into Kurogiri’s very being and it never ceased to piss off Atsuhiro. He understood loyalty to a cause, he understood whatever loyalty to a bed warmer he had instilled into Kurogiri. But he truly didn’t understand how anyone could lower themselves to nothing but a servant when in the right company. It was almost like Kurogiri ceased being human just to entertain the man.
He hated it. He hated it very much.
Atsuhiro kept having to remind himself he had settled on maintaining his commitment to his plan of keeping a watchful eye on Kurogiri while he downed enough drinks to hopefully tune out the far too noticeable voice of All for One and maybe forget about his iron grip on Kurogiri while he’s at it.
Just thinking about it all was enough to sour his mood on a better day, let alone witness it first hand. He felt like a lonesome, cuckeld husband forced to watch his partner gallivanting with some home wrecker when he watched that snake rest his cold hands around his beloved.
He was distantly aware that All for One was most comparable to a husband in the scenario of almost infedelic romance he found himself in, leaving himself to be the home wrecker. But was the other man not allowed to feel strife?
The bartender quirked a brow at him as he tried to rescind Atsuhiro’s latest empty glass as casually as possible. Atsuhiro was probably a pathetic sight to behold right about now. Disheveled and grumpy with nothing to ward off his alcohol but his own stubborn nature. His night continued to sour as he was politely informed he was being cut off. Atsuhiro rolled his eyes but did not try to sway that judgment since they were probably right.
Just as Atsuhiro was contemplating leaving after finishing this last drink, he perked up at the sight of Kurogiri lightly laying a hand on their Master’s chest, a gesture to get his attention while staying ‘in character.’ (That character being a practical tool of a human. A pretty tool, but a tool nonetheless.) It was the first time Kurogiri had made any noteworthy move all night.
The bastard of a man looked down at them with curiosity. Kurogiri said something before he took his arm off of them, allowing Kurogiri to practically scurry out of the room.
So, naturally, Atsuhiro downed the rest of his last drink, which was not made for chugging, and sputtered from the feeling in his throat while he staggered out the room.
~
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Kurogiri winced as they moved their cigarette to the other hand to allow Atsuhiro to sit by him on the low, stone patio wall if he’d like. “You reek.”
Atsuhiro placed a dramatic hand on his chest in faux offense, “What a rude thing to say! And after I went out of my way to wear my finest cologne, no less!”
Which he really had done. He wore the one he knew Kurogiri liked best, the one they said ‘smelled like him most,’ just in case this exact scenario happened upon him. But he hadn’t accounted for how drowning his sorrows at the bar would muddle it.
Kurogiri huffed as a light, mouthless, smile graced their face. “I think the bar has stolen your desired effect away from you, dear.”
Most said that Kurogiri was hard to read, impossible even. But Atsuhiro had no clue how one could even think that.
How could anyone ignore the way the golden trails of their gleaming eyes flickered when they laughed. Or now, how they curled ever so slightly at the sides when they smiled. How could anyone not be enraptured by the way their fog twisted around their being, defying the light breeze around them entirely. How it shuddered when their sighs stuttered, or how it puffed up when they were embarrassed. Their royal purple tips practically glowed a deep magenta when they was truly flustered, though that could prove to be a difficult thing to achieve.
“Atsuhiro?”
Ah. He’d been staring again. Kurogiri hated it when he did that, but how could he not?
“My apologies, dearest. The moon reflects off you ever so nicely, it’s hard not to be spellbound.” He said with a wistful sigh, resting his hand on his palm.
Kurogiri sputtered, coughing on the smoke of their cigarette while Atsuhiro lightly chuckled.
“… does it?” They asked meekly, their hand in a loose fist against their lips in a useless attempt to hide the hints of that wonderful magenta in their mist.
Beautiful.
Atsuhiro nodded, that dreamy stare still in his eyes.
Of course, that was no lie either. Kurogiri truly did look wonderful with that cigarette smoke framing their form and bringing light to how much more wonderful their own mist was in comparison. Kurogiri always looked even more beautiful in the dark, more expansive and glowing, even more intimidating to most. But not to Atsuhiro. Not now at least. It was hard to be afraid of an individual that was showing their tell-tale yet unique signs of blushing, no matter how eldritch they appeared.
Atsuhiro grinned while he sat beside Kurogiri, instantly leaning the full weight of his upper torso against Kurogiri’s. Usually he held more tact but he was utterly starved for attention today. He had waited long for it, after all.
Kurogiri’s eyes widened slightly at his forwardness but they didn’t seem to mind as they snugly wrapped his arms around Atsuhiro. They dropped their cigarette to the ground and absentmindedly ground it out with their shoe before sliding their tendril fingers into Atsuhiro’s curly locks.
“I hate parties.” They grumbled, causing Atsuhiro to chuckle.
“Really? You looked like you were having so much fun in there.”
Kurogiri didn’t dignify that with an answer as they rested their chin on top of Atsuhiro’s head, their fingers continuing to glide through the sides of his hair.
“They’re too loud. Too bright.” Kurogiri continued, sounding tired. They sighed as they mumbled, “he said it wouldn’t be bright.”
Ah. He.
“Well, he often lies, doesn’t he?” Atsuhiro said haughtily before he could shush himself.
His eyes widened in realization of what he’d said. A cold drop of late caution formed in his chest. Speaking ill of Kurogiri’s beloved Master always led to him being painfully ignored, all turning heads and crossed arms until Atsuhiro let it go. He could not handle being ignored today.
But to his utter astonishment, Kurogiri merely snorted lightly. “I suppose.” They mumbled, remaining comfortable with Atsuhiro in their grasp.
“… you’re not angry?” Atsuhiro asked reproachfully before mentally smacking himself. Maybe the alcohol really was making him loose lipped.
Kurogiri lightly shook their head, “you’re vulnerable, dearest. Already out of line, of course you'll say things you’ll regret. I’m a bartender, I know firsthand.” They explained with an air of empathetic humor.
Atsuhiro really should have taken that as the benefit it was and shut up, enjoyed the rest of the time he had stolen with Kurogiri in silence. But he was a gambling man at heart and he wondered how much he could bet and get away with.
“I don’t think he cares about you.” He chanced into Kurogiri’s chest, his voice muffled by their clothes.
Kurogiri stilled ever so slightly at that. They hesitated in answering for so long that Atsuhiro wondered if they even fully heard him before they firmly said, “I think he does.”
They sounded calm, resolute. Not offended or affronted, not like Atsuhiro has uttered the exact words that started every squabble they ever had. Their hands kept caressing him, they remained content.
Atsuhiro could feel a worm of something close to adrenaline birth inside him as he tested the waters yet again. “I think you’re being manipulated.”
“I think you’re drunk.” Kurogiri said simply, with a kiss on Atsuhiro’s forehead.
Atsuhiro had to resist the urge to grin against Kurogiri’s chest. Even if he spoke reason, Kurogiri wouldn’t take him seriously in his current state. Maybe they would actually listen to Atsuhiro without tuning out any scornful comments towards their Master like a servant possesed.
It seemed Atsuhiro might be able to get away with quite a lot.
But he had to be tactful. It’d be best to get what he wanted to say out as quickly and bluntly as possible, while Kurogiri was still actually paying attention to him and before their Master came looking for them.
Rip off the bandage.
“I think you should leave him.” Atsuhiro said, pausing for dramatic effect as the hands in his hair stopped. “And come be with me. I would treat you better. I do treat you better. We don’t need him…” Atsuhiro finished, attempting to burrow his head even deeper into Kurogiri’s chest as he did so. Both to sell how drunk he was and because he really, really wanted to.
Kurogiri didn't react. They stayed quiet; immobile, shocked. As if that was something they couldn’t even fathom. And maybe they couldn’t. It had certainly never been brought up before.
“… you’re drunk.” Kurogiri said again.
Atsuhiro either really was just that drunk or just that stubborn, because he didn’t take the obvious out to such a devastating topic of conversation. He whined and wrapped his arms around Kurogiri, as if they'd physically try to get away. And maybe they would based on what was being said. He turned his head up so the bottom of his chin was still on Kurogiri’s chest but now he could look them in the eye.
“I’m not drunk. I’m right. And you know it… and I love you…” he murmured that last part, allowing his face to adorn a tragically saddened look. Who knew, maybe he could woo Kurogiri into rebellion with puppy dog eyes.
Kurogiri let out an affronted sputter at that, as if he had cursed they’re name rather than worshiped it. Atsuhiro refused to let such an idea carry on and distracted them with a kiss. He undoubtedly tasted of salt and soured tequila, it was probably overwhelming and awful. But Kurogiri must have gotten drunk off his scraps because they sighed and pulled him close.
The kiss felt sweet and airy as it filled his chest with a deep feeling of relief. Tongues lightly lapping as their foreheads pressed together. Their hands cupped each other’s faces and their fingers danced in the other’s hair. Their breathing got huskier and huskier as their chests were pulled closer and closer together. Light whimpers and moans leaked into their huffs as the intensity of their kiss made it harder and harder to breathe-
And then they were separated. Faces still held close as they panted on each other’s mouths, saliva still connecting their tongues. Kurogiri’s eyes remained closed as Atsuhiro’s lolled open to gaze at his lover. He stared with such utter devotion it bordered on obsession.
Kurogiri spared a glance at his lovesick ogle before practically wincing and looking askance.
“… you know it’s not that simple.” They muttered with a defeated tone, still not looking at Atsuhiro as they did. But they did start petting Atsuhiro’s hair again, which was very nice. If he had the lung capability to, he’d undoubtedly purr at the sensation. He nuzzled himself back against Kurogiri’s chest and looped his arms back around their waist as he sighed in contentment.
As sad as he was about lacking sole ownership of Kurogiri’s heart, he couldn’t deny that he was delighted to have whatever piece he possessed anyway.
“I wish it was.” Atsuhiro said matter of factly, leaning into his lover's touch with a dope-ish grin.
Kurogiri seemed like they meant to respond, but they were quickly cut off by the patio door creaking open.
All for One gave Atsuhiro a quick once over, distaste swimming in his blood red eyes but his token, faux warm grin stayed firm on his face.
“I knew you were gone too long to warrant a smoke break.” He stated with faulty humor, making Kurogiri immediately shy away from Atsuhiro’s grasp to stand.
It made Atsuhiro’s previous grumbly mood return almost instantly.
“My apologies, Master, I lost track of time.” Kurogiri said as they straightened out their waistcoat and dusted off their thighs.
“More like it was stolen from you.” All for One sniffed, not dignifying Atsuhiro with as much as a second glance. “Not to worry, there’s plenty of hours left in the night. You intend to join me for them, I assume?”
That was an order, not a request, and they all knew it. So Kurogiri politely nodded and took their place back at All for One’s side. The man’s grin only got brighter as his arm looped back around their waist. He pulled them close and pressed a kiss to their temple, those gleaming teeth lightly grazing their mist as he grinned against their skin. “Good.”
They made their way back inside without even sparing Atsuhiro a second glance. He heard the drowned voices of the partygoers abruptly start and stop when they opened the door and closed it behind them. He watched the brief line of light lick at his shoes then disappear again. He watched Kurogiri walk away, eyes only on their Master.
And he sighed so deeply he was sure his chest remained hollow of all air when he finished, left with only loose tentacles of curling anger and a sweeping mist of lovesick lonesome deep within himself. He felt utterly pathetic under the meager light of the moon with nothing but the cool night air to embrace him.