When You Ask Me To
Title: When You Ask Me To
Pairing: KokiMaru
Rating: NC-17 (?)
Chapter: Oneshot
Summary: The first five times they fucked.
Note: Finished... After toiling for it for almost a month.
--== oOo ==--
The last time Koki had seen Nakamaru drunk, or smashed drunk for the lack of better term, was the last time he had a drink with him alone. And the first time they had sex in the dingy bathroom of the bar. He didn’t even know how they got there.
No, that was a lie. He knew how they got there, somehow, even though he himself was past tipsy and with a huge part of his common sense missing. They had been drinking with the rest of the group, until one by one they left, until it was only him and the beat boxer together. And when Nakamaru took his cue to leave, but swayed dangerously when he stood, Koki valiantly offered to assist him out, maybe finding him a cab or bringing him home to safety.
But instead of finding the exit, he found the men’s bathroom instead - accidentally, he would later insist. And before he could guide the other back out, he felt himself being dragged inside, on the last stall, felt his back hit the door with a loud bang, the damn knob digging on his side uncomfortable, with Nakamaru’s lips on his, clumsy and urgent, breath, taste, and texture filled with booze and mint and strawberry, and really, who was he to reject such delicious combination? So he kissed back just as eagerly, reversing their position to have Nakamaru on the door instead.
And heated kisses quickly became something else. In that dingy, cramped bathroom of the unknown club, he fucked him against the door, heedless of the noise they were making and of the people that might hear them outside (they can go to hell for all he cared).
All he was aware of was tight heat surrounding his manhood, the arms encircling his neck, legs wrapped on his waist, the kisses rendered on his jaw, and the swirl of pleasure on his gut, growing and growing until the sudden spasm that gripped his hardness caught him off guard, and he came inside the other man as the other’s warm come spread between them. A primal growl vibrated on his chest just as the other bit his shoulder painfully.
He gave one last thrust through their shuddering orgasm and found plump lips for a kiss. Just a quick kiss before they separated, finding their own feet and wit and dressing up hurriedly without looking at each other. It was only after Koki had his cock back within his boxers did he glance at the other man and found him deliciously rumpled.
He wanted to reach out and smoothen Nakamaru’s shirt, a nice texture of cloth he would have loved to touch. But he didn’t. Why would he when he couldn’t even straighten out his own mind? So he gave him an unsteady smile instead, and received the other’s smile back at him - just as unsteady, but with a touch of an afterglow.
And when the beat boxer walked out of the door of their cramped comfort room, heading out of the men’s room back to the dance floor maybe, he tried to catch up. But he was waved off dismissively and was left scratching the back of his head, watching him go. He watched Nakamaru walk unsteadily until he disappeared within the crowd, then he went back to the men’s room and fixed his hair.
He ignored the strange looks he got from the other occupants of the bathroom.
--== oOo ==--
The second time they did it, they weren’t drunk. Instead, they were both turned on and needed release badly, so badly, they willingly took the risk of having sex in the cramped broom closet in a discreet location at the end of the hall of the jimusho.
Anyway, as the story goes, Koki knew it had been a bad idea, watching porn while still in the building, but the practice was over and while they can all ignore Junno’s eager invitations for hentai movies, nobody says no to Kame. Or at least nobody voices it out - because he himself wanted to refuse but instead found himself seated between the beat boxer and the turtle throughout the movie, trying to suppress the arousal slowly spreading through his system.
He idle wondered if anybody else felt the same or it was just him who was strange, getting turned on by the watching a teacher get raped by her whole class.
He only knew the answer to that when, not long after the movie, Maru insisted they get some snack and drinks. But before he could even reach the vending machine he was swerved and dragged into a random closet (a broom closet bigger than normal because Johnny is awesome that way) and pushed against its wall.
He was about to protest but the elder put a finger over his lips, a signal that was meant to mean “be quiet” but his damned brain translated as “kiss me” because such pouting lips deserves a kiss, right? And he would have given it one if he was drunk, except that he wasn’t. So he didn’t. And it was the other way around.
It was Maru who kissed him, Maru who took the initiative to stroke him in full hardness, asking him to please fuck him again, if only to take care of the problem they both had. And he found himself complying. He flipped the other over and trapped him against the tin wall, his chest pressing against his back, his hardened cock against those butt. And with all the demure Maru showed the world, he shamelessly pushed back against him, eager to be fucked.
There was lesser preparation but more eagerness this time, when he fucked him on the dark closet with only the small sliver of light from the horizontal slits provided to let him see the beautiful arch of Maru’s back. And those damned neck, tempting him for a bite, a temptation he didn’t resist, even accompanying it with a lick and a kiss.
And Maru would have moaned loudly, if not for the hand covering his mouth. It was torture, trying to keep their silence against the overwhelming pleasure, but somehow (and they will congratulate each other later for this) they managed to subdue their moans into tiny whimpers and gasps. And the short cry Maru released when he reached his orgasm was drowned by Koki’s mouth as he pulled his hair and caught his lips for a bruising kiss. His own climax came soon as Maru clenched around him painfully tight.
He held him close, arms around his torso, his face on the elder’s neck, as they let their climax pass. He breathed heavily on him, inhaling the scent of strawberry, soap, and orgasm. He would have stayed longer like that but Maru detangled his arms and stepped out of him, dressing, fixing and composing himself. And he had no choice but to do the same.
Once composed, Maru reached out to him and fixed the collar of his shirt, gentle smile lighting his childlike feature. And Koki felt something clench his chest. But before he could figure what it was, Maru stepped back and exited, leaving him alone (again) inside the dark closet. He heaved a sigh and gave a shrug before following out.
--== oOo ==--
The third time wasn’t as pleasant an experience as the first two. It was Koki.
He had been smashed drunk that night when he crashed Maru’s place. He had been upset, disappointed, angry for a failure that wasn’t his fault and needed to release it anyway he could. So he went to the only person he trusted enough to show his raw side. Sad how that same trust pushed him to hurt the other in ways he would probably never forgive himself.
But he was drunk and desperate, and the moment Maru opened the door, sleepy and mussed up, all he could think of was to own, to mark, and hurt, and claim something as his own. And it was that whirlwind of emotions that made him push the other man back inside his own apartment, his lips immediately finding the other man’s lips for a bruising kiss. He tugged and tried to rip his shirt off even though Maru resisted him, or tried resisting him.
But Koki was stronger, and his pent-up frustration caused him to shove him back, unconcerned of the beatboxer’s cry when his hip hit the hard desk. Instead, Koki used the opportunity to flip him over, hand at the back of the elder’s neck, pushing, bending him on the table and swiftly yanking his pajama pants down.
His buzzing ears caught on Maru’s alarmed gasp, his desperate calls for him to stop, “Koki, please don’t do this, stop!” but his mind was too focused on the task at hand, of holding the other down while stroking his own cock to hardness to even care. And when he pushed himself inside the taller man, the electricity that sparked on his veins was all he could feel, all he could think about, and how he wanted more, more of that feeling, more of him.
So he took him there, in Maru’s own home, and fucked him raw until the pounding on his head and the itch in his chest swelled and surged and exploded, exploded, accompanying his blinding orgasm, dissipating through his pores as he shuddered through it, his mind clearing back to reality. And the effect of his actions greeted him like a punch in the gut.
He pulled off slowly, dread spreading through him as he digested Maru’s crumpled state, bent on the table, trembling and bleeding. He watched him slowly, unsteadily, try to stand up, only to have his knees give out. And Koki, with all his shame, caught him in his arms before he fell on the floor. He tried to carry him up but Maru wouldn’t let him. He simply leaned unto him closer as they walked towards the bedroom in silence.
He tucked him in without once saying a word, the lump on his throat too painful to swallow. He was ready to walk away then but a hand on his wrist stopped him. The faint tug and weak smile the beatboxer gave sent a painful jolt to his heart. He shifted his gaze away but drew nearer physically, until he was lying beside him, wrapping his arms around him. And yet he still kept his silence. It was only after when he thought Maru was already asleep that he found his voice again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, nuzzling his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok,” he answered him, petting him, running comforting fingers through his hair. “I’m fine.”
He was surprised that he was still awake but decided not to say anything any further. Instead, he rendered a kiss on the elder’s neck, right where a steady pulse beat.
--== oOo ==--
It was three months later before they fucked again. Three months and seven days to be exact. And again, it was Koki. It was he who kept his distance this time around.
For three months, he diverted his gazes and did everything he could not to be on the same room alone as elder one. He put a façade of normality in front of the group, clowning and laughing around, then springing to leave once he “wasn’t needed around.”
He knew Maru was hurt, he could see the pain and confusion in his dark orbs every time their eyes met. But how could he explain his reason? How could he say that the guilt he had for what he did was simply too heavy for him to deal with? He couldn’t. So he didn’t. And for every time their gazes met, he turned away and pretended not to see anything. He bit his lips when the other tried to pretend with him that nothing was absolutely wrong between them. He sighed silently, gritting his teeth when he couldn’t figure out the itch on his chest every time the other would “play along” with him. He thought they could go on that way, until Maru surprised him by standing just outside his door one night.
Or, well, it was more appropriate to say instead that he was surprised because he wasn’t surprised to see Maru at all. It was as if he had been waiting for this. But there was no time to think, no need to, actually, so he simply smiled timidly and stepped back to let the other in.
Maru entered like he owned the place, he didn’t even look back at him and headed straight to the bedroom, stripping, discarding his clothes along the way. Koki followed him with his gaze, silently eyeing each piece of clothing Maru threw: coat on the coach, dress shirt on the floor, and the white undershirt just out the door. It was when he was on his pants that he turned around, locked their gazes as he stepped out of it, standing completely naked. Koki released the breath he was holding and came closer, running a tentative finger on smooth arms, until a hand curled on his wrist to stop him.
“Fuck me again,” Nakamaru said, as simple as an order. Koki’s breathe hitched. He opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he noticed, finally noticed, the weariness on the other’s eyes. “Just tonight, Koki, fuck me again.”
“Yuichi,” he whispered before he could even think, reaching out, pulling him for a kiss, his hand curling at the back of the other’s neck. The other’s hand fumbled against his clothes and they were both naked before they stumbled on the bed.
All Koki wanted to do was to be gentle this time, to kiss Yuichi languidly, slowly lick his way down his neck, run his hand leisurely on the lean body. But no, “no, Koki, you have to fuck me,” Yuichi protested. “Hurt me, mark me, make me scream.”
For a moment, he stopped. For a moment, he was shocked. For a moment he knew he shouldn’t. But the hopefulness he saw in the elder’s face, the eyes that begged, the mouth that refused to beg, and that damned fingers combing his hair, made him forget, made him loose himself again, made him close his eyes as he comply his brutal wish.
He fucked him. He fucked him on his mattress, deep, hard. His fingers dug tightly on his hips, they would bruise. It was retaliation for the nails scratching his back for each thrust. The whimpers, moan, strangled gasps that spilled from those luscious lips, they goaded him on and on. And with each thrust, he chanted his name, just like a prayer, until the heat coiling on the base of his spine uncoiled, blinding him, and they came together.
He might have passed out, he might have not, but the next thing his mind registered was the fingers still petting his hair as he lay on top of him.
“I should go now,” Yuichi whispered, hands coming to a rest. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around him, shifting their position to have the other man lying on him instead. He held him tightly, refusing to let go.
“Stay,” he said. Stay, he begged.
--== oOo ==--
Four hours later, he woke up on the lips dragging kisses on his neck, on the hand pressed against his abdomen.
“Yuichi?” he breathed. Sleep still fogged his mind, but his body was waking up faster. He was hard before he could even think straight. He pulled the other man up and kissed him languidly, broken only by the sigh he released as the other sunk himself into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” Koki whispered, reaching out to smoothen his hair, appreciative, encouraging, fascinated, as he had him on his bed - no - as Yuichi had him on his bed, lying on his back while the elder fucked himself on him.
Beads of sweat lined Yuichi’s jaw as he shut his eyes tightly in concentration, lashes brushing against his flaring cheeks. Koki wondered how anybody can be so beautiful in such state of decadence. And even though the rhythm was slow and languorous, he didn’t mind at all. He enjoyed the sight. He enjoyed the sensation.
He tugged him in and held him close, chest against chest, one arm wrapped on his back, the other on his head. He breathed him as they moved lazily against each other, smiled and ran his fingers on the messy hair when Yuichi nuzzled his neck and kissed his pulse. They savored the feeling of warmth from their heart as it spread throughout their bodies, gasping and moaning mutely as heat slowly consumed them whole. And when they came, their hearts beating in sync, they came as silently as the breathe they shared just before their lips met.
There were still so many things to consider, so many words left unsaid. There would be a lot to talk about later but for now they couldn’t care. They were here, the two of them, and that was all that mattered. This was all he could ask for. He sighed contentedly and inhaled the scent of sex and strawberry in the air, mixed with the whiff of the early morning dew. He held him tighter as their heartbeats lulled him back to sleep, knowing the other had already dozed off in his arms.
It wasn’t the fifth time they fucked. It was the first time they made love.
--== oOo ==--
[ “Not many people know when love really starts... more than a friend, but not quite lovers. A delicate relationship like this changes gradually once it is noticed, and keeps on blossoming, just like the changing seasons.” -Boys Be (ep.6) ]
Pairing: KokiMaru
Rating: NC-17 (?)
Chapter: Oneshot
Summary: The first five times they fucked.
Note: Finished... After toiling for it for almost a month.
--== oOo ==--
The last time Koki had seen Nakamaru drunk, or smashed drunk for the lack of better term, was the last time he had a drink with him alone. And the first time they had sex in the dingy bathroom of the bar. He didn’t even know how they got there.
No, that was a lie. He knew how they got there, somehow, even though he himself was past tipsy and with a huge part of his common sense missing. They had been drinking with the rest of the group, until one by one they left, until it was only him and the beat boxer together. And when Nakamaru took his cue to leave, but swayed dangerously when he stood, Koki valiantly offered to assist him out, maybe finding him a cab or bringing him home to safety.
But instead of finding the exit, he found the men’s bathroom instead - accidentally, he would later insist. And before he could guide the other back out, he felt himself being dragged inside, on the last stall, felt his back hit the door with a loud bang, the damn knob digging on his side uncomfortable, with Nakamaru’s lips on his, clumsy and urgent, breath, taste, and texture filled with booze and mint and strawberry, and really, who was he to reject such delicious combination? So he kissed back just as eagerly, reversing their position to have Nakamaru on the door instead.
And heated kisses quickly became something else. In that dingy, cramped bathroom of the unknown club, he fucked him against the door, heedless of the noise they were making and of the people that might hear them outside (they can go to hell for all he cared).
All he was aware of was tight heat surrounding his manhood, the arms encircling his neck, legs wrapped on his waist, the kisses rendered on his jaw, and the swirl of pleasure on his gut, growing and growing until the sudden spasm that gripped his hardness caught him off guard, and he came inside the other man as the other’s warm come spread between them. A primal growl vibrated on his chest just as the other bit his shoulder painfully.
He gave one last thrust through their shuddering orgasm and found plump lips for a kiss. Just a quick kiss before they separated, finding their own feet and wit and dressing up hurriedly without looking at each other. It was only after Koki had his cock back within his boxers did he glance at the other man and found him deliciously rumpled.
He wanted to reach out and smoothen Nakamaru’s shirt, a nice texture of cloth he would have loved to touch. But he didn’t. Why would he when he couldn’t even straighten out his own mind? So he gave him an unsteady smile instead, and received the other’s smile back at him - just as unsteady, but with a touch of an afterglow.
And when the beat boxer walked out of the door of their cramped comfort room, heading out of the men’s room back to the dance floor maybe, he tried to catch up. But he was waved off dismissively and was left scratching the back of his head, watching him go. He watched Nakamaru walk unsteadily until he disappeared within the crowd, then he went back to the men’s room and fixed his hair.
He ignored the strange looks he got from the other occupants of the bathroom.
--== oOo ==--
The second time they did it, they weren’t drunk. Instead, they were both turned on and needed release badly, so badly, they willingly took the risk of having sex in the cramped broom closet in a discreet location at the end of the hall of the jimusho.
Anyway, as the story goes, Koki knew it had been a bad idea, watching porn while still in the building, but the practice was over and while they can all ignore Junno’s eager invitations for hentai movies, nobody says no to Kame. Or at least nobody voices it out - because he himself wanted to refuse but instead found himself seated between the beat boxer and the turtle throughout the movie, trying to suppress the arousal slowly spreading through his system.
He idle wondered if anybody else felt the same or it was just him who was strange, getting turned on by the watching a teacher get raped by her whole class.
He only knew the answer to that when, not long after the movie, Maru insisted they get some snack and drinks. But before he could even reach the vending machine he was swerved and dragged into a random closet (a broom closet bigger than normal because Johnny is awesome that way) and pushed against its wall.
He was about to protest but the elder put a finger over his lips, a signal that was meant to mean “be quiet” but his damned brain translated as “kiss me” because such pouting lips deserves a kiss, right? And he would have given it one if he was drunk, except that he wasn’t. So he didn’t. And it was the other way around.
It was Maru who kissed him, Maru who took the initiative to stroke him in full hardness, asking him to please fuck him again, if only to take care of the problem they both had. And he found himself complying. He flipped the other over and trapped him against the tin wall, his chest pressing against his back, his hardened cock against those butt. And with all the demure Maru showed the world, he shamelessly pushed back against him, eager to be fucked.
There was lesser preparation but more eagerness this time, when he fucked him on the dark closet with only the small sliver of light from the horizontal slits provided to let him see the beautiful arch of Maru’s back. And those damned neck, tempting him for a bite, a temptation he didn’t resist, even accompanying it with a lick and a kiss.
And Maru would have moaned loudly, if not for the hand covering his mouth. It was torture, trying to keep their silence against the overwhelming pleasure, but somehow (and they will congratulate each other later for this) they managed to subdue their moans into tiny whimpers and gasps. And the short cry Maru released when he reached his orgasm was drowned by Koki’s mouth as he pulled his hair and caught his lips for a bruising kiss. His own climax came soon as Maru clenched around him painfully tight.
He held him close, arms around his torso, his face on the elder’s neck, as they let their climax pass. He breathed heavily on him, inhaling the scent of strawberry, soap, and orgasm. He would have stayed longer like that but Maru detangled his arms and stepped out of him, dressing, fixing and composing himself. And he had no choice but to do the same.
Once composed, Maru reached out to him and fixed the collar of his shirt, gentle smile lighting his childlike feature. And Koki felt something clench his chest. But before he could figure what it was, Maru stepped back and exited, leaving him alone (again) inside the dark closet. He heaved a sigh and gave a shrug before following out.
--== oOo ==--
The third time wasn’t as pleasant an experience as the first two. It was Koki.
He had been smashed drunk that night when he crashed Maru’s place. He had been upset, disappointed, angry for a failure that wasn’t his fault and needed to release it anyway he could. So he went to the only person he trusted enough to show his raw side. Sad how that same trust pushed him to hurt the other in ways he would probably never forgive himself.
But he was drunk and desperate, and the moment Maru opened the door, sleepy and mussed up, all he could think of was to own, to mark, and hurt, and claim something as his own. And it was that whirlwind of emotions that made him push the other man back inside his own apartment, his lips immediately finding the other man’s lips for a bruising kiss. He tugged and tried to rip his shirt off even though Maru resisted him, or tried resisting him.
But Koki was stronger, and his pent-up frustration caused him to shove him back, unconcerned of the beatboxer’s cry when his hip hit the hard desk. Instead, Koki used the opportunity to flip him over, hand at the back of the elder’s neck, pushing, bending him on the table and swiftly yanking his pajama pants down.
His buzzing ears caught on Maru’s alarmed gasp, his desperate calls for him to stop, “Koki, please don’t do this, stop!” but his mind was too focused on the task at hand, of holding the other down while stroking his own cock to hardness to even care. And when he pushed himself inside the taller man, the electricity that sparked on his veins was all he could feel, all he could think about, and how he wanted more, more of that feeling, more of him.
So he took him there, in Maru’s own home, and fucked him raw until the pounding on his head and the itch in his chest swelled and surged and exploded, exploded, accompanying his blinding orgasm, dissipating through his pores as he shuddered through it, his mind clearing back to reality. And the effect of his actions greeted him like a punch in the gut.
He pulled off slowly, dread spreading through him as he digested Maru’s crumpled state, bent on the table, trembling and bleeding. He watched him slowly, unsteadily, try to stand up, only to have his knees give out. And Koki, with all his shame, caught him in his arms before he fell on the floor. He tried to carry him up but Maru wouldn’t let him. He simply leaned unto him closer as they walked towards the bedroom in silence.
He tucked him in without once saying a word, the lump on his throat too painful to swallow. He was ready to walk away then but a hand on his wrist stopped him. The faint tug and weak smile the beatboxer gave sent a painful jolt to his heart. He shifted his gaze away but drew nearer physically, until he was lying beside him, wrapping his arms around him. And yet he still kept his silence. It was only after when he thought Maru was already asleep that he found his voice again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, nuzzling his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok,” he answered him, petting him, running comforting fingers through his hair. “I’m fine.”
He was surprised that he was still awake but decided not to say anything any further. Instead, he rendered a kiss on the elder’s neck, right where a steady pulse beat.
--== oOo ==--
It was three months later before they fucked again. Three months and seven days to be exact. And again, it was Koki. It was he who kept his distance this time around.
For three months, he diverted his gazes and did everything he could not to be on the same room alone as elder one. He put a façade of normality in front of the group, clowning and laughing around, then springing to leave once he “wasn’t needed around.”
He knew Maru was hurt, he could see the pain and confusion in his dark orbs every time their eyes met. But how could he explain his reason? How could he say that the guilt he had for what he did was simply too heavy for him to deal with? He couldn’t. So he didn’t. And for every time their gazes met, he turned away and pretended not to see anything. He bit his lips when the other tried to pretend with him that nothing was absolutely wrong between them. He sighed silently, gritting his teeth when he couldn’t figure out the itch on his chest every time the other would “play along” with him. He thought they could go on that way, until Maru surprised him by standing just outside his door one night.
Or, well, it was more appropriate to say instead that he was surprised because he wasn’t surprised to see Maru at all. It was as if he had been waiting for this. But there was no time to think, no need to, actually, so he simply smiled timidly and stepped back to let the other in.
Maru entered like he owned the place, he didn’t even look back at him and headed straight to the bedroom, stripping, discarding his clothes along the way. Koki followed him with his gaze, silently eyeing each piece of clothing Maru threw: coat on the coach, dress shirt on the floor, and the white undershirt just out the door. It was when he was on his pants that he turned around, locked their gazes as he stepped out of it, standing completely naked. Koki released the breath he was holding and came closer, running a tentative finger on smooth arms, until a hand curled on his wrist to stop him.
“Fuck me again,” Nakamaru said, as simple as an order. Koki’s breathe hitched. He opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he noticed, finally noticed, the weariness on the other’s eyes. “Just tonight, Koki, fuck me again.”
“Yuichi,” he whispered before he could even think, reaching out, pulling him for a kiss, his hand curling at the back of the other’s neck. The other’s hand fumbled against his clothes and they were both naked before they stumbled on the bed.
All Koki wanted to do was to be gentle this time, to kiss Yuichi languidly, slowly lick his way down his neck, run his hand leisurely on the lean body. But no, “no, Koki, you have to fuck me,” Yuichi protested. “Hurt me, mark me, make me scream.”
For a moment, he stopped. For a moment, he was shocked. For a moment he knew he shouldn’t. But the hopefulness he saw in the elder’s face, the eyes that begged, the mouth that refused to beg, and that damned fingers combing his hair, made him forget, made him loose himself again, made him close his eyes as he comply his brutal wish.
He fucked him. He fucked him on his mattress, deep, hard. His fingers dug tightly on his hips, they would bruise. It was retaliation for the nails scratching his back for each thrust. The whimpers, moan, strangled gasps that spilled from those luscious lips, they goaded him on and on. And with each thrust, he chanted his name, just like a prayer, until the heat coiling on the base of his spine uncoiled, blinding him, and they came together.
He might have passed out, he might have not, but the next thing his mind registered was the fingers still petting his hair as he lay on top of him.
“I should go now,” Yuichi whispered, hands coming to a rest. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around him, shifting their position to have the other man lying on him instead. He held him tightly, refusing to let go.
“Stay,” he said. Stay, he begged.
--== oOo ==--
Four hours later, he woke up on the lips dragging kisses on his neck, on the hand pressed against his abdomen.
“Yuichi?” he breathed. Sleep still fogged his mind, but his body was waking up faster. He was hard before he could even think straight. He pulled the other man up and kissed him languidly, broken only by the sigh he released as the other sunk himself into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” Koki whispered, reaching out to smoothen his hair, appreciative, encouraging, fascinated, as he had him on his bed - no - as Yuichi had him on his bed, lying on his back while the elder fucked himself on him.
Beads of sweat lined Yuichi’s jaw as he shut his eyes tightly in concentration, lashes brushing against his flaring cheeks. Koki wondered how anybody can be so beautiful in such state of decadence. And even though the rhythm was slow and languorous, he didn’t mind at all. He enjoyed the sight. He enjoyed the sensation.
He tugged him in and held him close, chest against chest, one arm wrapped on his back, the other on his head. He breathed him as they moved lazily against each other, smiled and ran his fingers on the messy hair when Yuichi nuzzled his neck and kissed his pulse. They savored the feeling of warmth from their heart as it spread throughout their bodies, gasping and moaning mutely as heat slowly consumed them whole. And when they came, their hearts beating in sync, they came as silently as the breathe they shared just before their lips met.
There were still so many things to consider, so many words left unsaid. There would be a lot to talk about later but for now they couldn’t care. They were here, the two of them, and that was all that mattered. This was all he could ask for. He sighed contentedly and inhaled the scent of sex and strawberry in the air, mixed with the whiff of the early morning dew. He held him tighter as their heartbeats lulled him back to sleep, knowing the other had already dozed off in his arms.
It wasn’t the fifth time they fucked. It was the first time they made love.
--== oOo ==--
[ “Not many people know when love really starts... more than a friend, but not quite lovers. A delicate relationship like this changes gradually once it is noticed, and keeps on blossoming, just like the changing seasons.” -Boys Be (ep.6) ]