A Taste of Copper - Toriko fic

Pairing: Toriko/Komatsu
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Komatsu would plead temporary insanity via injury prone partner for what happened next; he bent his head over Toriko's left hand - still oozing blood - and pressed his lips to a shallow cut.

-

Toriko was hurt again, too busy protecting Komatsu to worry about himself.

Mind clouded by guilt, Komatsu would plead temporary insanity via injury prone partner for what happened next; he bent his head over Toriko's left hand - still oozing blood in several places, two fingers broken - and pressed his lips to a shallow cut. When he realized (too late) what he had done and retreated, a heavy splash of red came away with him. His tongue flickered out instinctively and the rich flavor of copper flooded his mouth.

Heat rolled across Komatsu's cheeks and down his neck, skin flaming pink at his took a deep, steadying breath and raised his eyes to check Toriko reaction.

The bishokuya was watching him, expression curious but otherwise inscrutable.

"T-toriko-san," Komatsu began, not knowing what to say to excuse his behavior but terrified of seeing Toriko's face scrunch up in disgust the way it did when he smelled something particularly foul.

Toriko didn't give him the chance to finish. A large thumb settled across his lips, silencing him.

Then Toriko grinned wolfishly and asked, "What about the rest?"

Komatsu choked on a sudden inhale. Toriko couldn't possibly be implying that he liked what Komatsu had done, that he wanted the attention to his wounds to continue, right? But Toriko's grin softened into a smile, urging but not demanding, and Komatsu stopped thinking and just reacted.

He lowered his mouth to Toriko's wrist, pressing a tentative kiss to a bruise there, and when Toriko growled quietly in encouragement, Komatsu let his tongue slide between his lips to lick a path up the battered arm. He lapped at small trails of blood, swiping lightly over a slice here, a scrape there. His cheeks were burning ever more brightly.

A rough fingertip brushed against his heated skin, a comforting gesture Komatsu appreciated. The wild pounding of his heart eased a little, and as he licked an ark from elbow to shoulder, the metallic flavor nearly overwhelming, Komatsu found the courage to mouth at the mottled skin of Toriko's cheek.

He traced a closing cut with the flat of his tongue, and then Toriko turned his head and opened his mouth and suddenly there was another tongue touching his, a much larger one that stroked and twisted and stole the bloody taste away, replacing it with the bitterness of tobacco.

No matter how Komatsu looked at it, Toriko was kissing him. Really, truly kissing him.

Komatsu shuddered hard, clinging to the orange material stretched across Toriko's shoulders for dear life as the reality of this - Toriko's hand on the nape of his neck, Toriko's tongue in his mouth, Toriko's taste, Toriko's smell, Toriko's everything everywhere - set in, very nearly shutting his brain down permanently. He found himself fighting back tears, which led to more pressing problem.

It was good. No, it was fantastic, but Komatsu hadn't been expecting this and he badly needed to breathe. He beat his fist against Toriko's arm until the bishokuya released him, looking a bit put out.

"Too much," Komatsu panted in explanation, and Toriko laughed.

"I forgot your lungs are smaller than mine." Grasping Komatsu by the hips, he manhandled the chef until he was spread across his lap, Komatsu's thighs forced wide to accommodate his bigger body. With another grin, Toriko tugged away the tattered remains of his tank, revealing his injured chest. "Start on these while you get your breath back."

Komatsu could only splutter and flail while his face flushed so hot he swore he was about to pass out. "TORIKO-SAN!"