Hands
Over_Blackout
Summary:
Komatsu's fingers were slender, nimble-looking, nails short and well maintained. Artist's hands, Toriko thought. He gazed at the small hand sheltered in his palm and wondered how many times this fragile, beautiful hand had saved his life.
It was dark out, the sky bright with stars, partially obscured by the massive leaf a few metres above Toriko's head. Toriko and Komatsu had set up camp in a scale tree - who's huge leaves could easily support the weight of entire buildings - the forest floor being too full of prowling beasts to rest safely.
Toriko looked down at the tiny chef sprawled out in his lap, his head resting on one of the bishokuya's thighs while his legs splayed over the other, one arm flung over his head. Toriko chuckled, while perhaps not being the most graceful of sleepers, Komatsu was undeniably cute. Especially when he nuzzled his head into fabric of Toriko's jumpsuit, muttering softly.
He gently lifted one of Komatsu's hands, cradling it in his palm. It looked so tiny, so delicate against the rough skin of his palms. Komatsu's fingers were slender, nimble-looking, nails short and well maintained. Artist's hands, Toriko thought. He gazed at the small hand sheltered in his palm and wondered how many times this fragile, beautiful hand had saved his life. How many times had it helped him get up, even when he thought he couldn’t? How many times? How many other lives had it saved? Toriko leaned down and kissed each one of his little partner's fingers, breathing in the scent of spice and sweetness, of countless ingredients and Komatsu.
"Toriko-san..."
The King's heart flip-flopped in his chest, he glanced down, looking into the tired, half-lidded eyes of his tiny chef. Komatsu's free hand rubbed at his eyes, while the other curled round two of Toriko's fingers which had closed round his captured appendage. Komatsu blinked sleepy up at him and yawned, trying, with little success, to rearrange his limbs into a sitting position.
Toriko watched the tiny chef's struggles with fond eyes and let go of his hand to help him up, his insides going all warm and funny-feeling when Komatsu smiled at him. The bishokukai placed one hand on the little chef's waist, the other cupped the back of Komatsu's neck, tilting his face up. He leaned down, resting his forehead against Komatsu's, who blushed profusely, stuttering out,
"T-T-Toriko-san?"
Toriko grinned and silenced his partner with a soft kiss, brushing his lips gently against Komatsu's. Komatsu hands raised, tangling in sky-blue hair as he let out a quiet sigh.
"Thank you for choosing me, Komatsu." Toriko whispered into Komatsu's lips, "Thank you for being mine." He really did mean that, he was more grateful for Komatsu than any other thing in this world. Probably the next too.
He felt Komatsu eyelids flutter, their eyelashes brushing together as the little chef's eyes widened. Komatsu pulled back slightly, opening his mouth to speak.
"Toriko-san I-"
Toriko interrupted him with a kiss, which was harder than the first, hungrier, tracing the shape of Komatsu's lips with his tongue. He felt Komatsu melt under his hands, relaxing completely, all thought of talking gone. Good. He had no intention of talking anymore. Or even thinking for that matter. And when Komatsu's hands tightened in his hair, lips parting under Toriko's, he doubted his partner did either.
Fin.
