Title: And Neither Is What Comes After
Pairing: Tamamori/Miyata
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
AN: This is pretty much a direct continuation of
mousapelli's fic that I promised her. You might want to read
that one first, although I guess this could work on it's own.
And Neither Is What Comes After
The early pre-dawn light brightens the room just enough that Tamamori can make out the spikes of Miyata's bed-head hair from the corner of his eye. He can't see much more than that at the moment, Miyata being pressed up tight under his chin, nipping at Tamamori's pulse and making it race faster and faster. The hands running up and down his sides contribute to the cause, making Tamamori dizzy with the rush. He sucks in much-needed air as Miyata works further down his chest, but when a hand wanders south with purpose, he bats it away.
"Wait," he says with a gasp. "Don't."
Miyata pauses for a moment and looks up at him. "Don't? But I thought-"
"No, no," Tamamori rushes to assure. "I just. I don't want to-." He swallows any remaining nerves. "I want you inside."
He likes the look Miyata gets when he says that. His boyfriend's face is a whole mess of emotion, and Tamamori can see love plain as day, even in the darkness of the hour. He knows Miyata is still in disbelief and thinks maybe it's been different for him. Maybe Miyata didn't really think Tamamori would, whereas Tamamori himself had no doubts at all. He's been thinking about it for a while now.
He nudges Miyata's shoulder. "Ne, you have everything, right?"
Miyata snaps out of his wonderment at the touch.
"Yes. I-."
Tamamori isn't sure what he was going to say, but it doesn't really matter because Miyata is leaning over to pull things from the drawer next to his bed. He waits patiently as Miyata pulls back and resituates himself further down the bed.
"Is it okay?" Miyata asks, rubs a small circle on the inside of Tamamori's thigh with his unlubed hand. Tamamori sighs softly.
"Yes."
The first finger slips inside with ease and Tamamori smiles. It's a bit different, but he can already feel a radiating warmth that makes him want to beg for more.
"Does… it feel… weird?" Miyata asks him, moving his finger slowly and searching Tamamori's face with a curious expression.
"Hmm, no." Tamamori says. "It's nice."
"I mean it," he adds when Miyata looks skeptical. "It's good. And you can do, um, more now." He's not embarrassed by what they're doing, not really, but it still feels awkward to say it. Luckily Miyata seems to get it and then there's a second finger pushing slowly into him and Tamamori lets his eyes flutter shut with a breath.
It's such a tease, really, slow and steady and entirely not enough.
"You don't have to go so slow," he whines, and pushes back against Miyata's hand. God, he's been waiting forever, why does he have to wait now?
And yet, Miyata pauses. Tamamori opens his eyes to find Miyata looking at him uncertainly.
"…what is it?" Tamamori asks, and his nerves return full-force. Is Miyata having second thoughts?
Miyata blinks at him. "I thought… I thought you've never done this before…" He looks a bit betrayed.
"I haven't," Tamamori replies, and pushes back more in an attempt to get Miyata moving again.
"Then why-"
"Senga," Tamamori bites out, frustrated with the lack of pressure.
"What!" Miyata jerks in surprise, and Tamamori can feel that. He makes a noise of encouragement.
"Senga," he continues. "He said that he thought it'd probably hurt less if I, you know."
Miyata is staring at him incredulously. He doesn't know. Tamamori bites his lip.
"If I… practiced."
Miyata won't stop staring at him and Tamamori can feel himself blushing. "Can you just move?" he says, pushing past the rising embarrassment and forcing himself down on Miyata's fingers. Miyata makes a noise in his throat.
"You've…" he starts moving again. "You've really…?"
"Yes," Tamamori says, squeezing his eyes shut, "and can you add one more? This is driving me crazy."
"Nngh, that's really hot." Miyata's voice is shaky, but he's pushing harder into Tamamori anyway and finally, there's the burn. Tamamori winces a little and breathes through the pain.
"Don't you dare stop," he says, preempting Miyata's question before he finishes the first syllable. Fuck, it feels good; the stretch hurts, but that's not new, and it's Miyata inside him. He's wanted this, he wants this, and it's exactly right. He sends a silent thank you to Senga that he will never, ever really voice aloud.
"Oh, god, that's… Mmmm." Tamamori groans a bit, and he can't stop small sounds from escaping on every breath. It's already so good, so hot, so much better than anything he's managed on his own. He peels his eyes open to glance up at Miyata, and the darkness reflected in the brightening room makes him moan again. Miyata's eyes are glittering black and Tamamori wants to lose himself in them. He reaches up and tugs Miyata down to him, opens his mouth as Miyata readily licks at his lips.
The messy slide of their tongues shoots lines of pleasure down Tamamori's spine, until a sudden change of angle by Miyata flashes lightning heat through his entire body. He jerks sharply with a cry and Miyata presses down against him with a sound of his own. Tamamori can feel the rumble of it through his chest where they're pressed together.
"Was that-?" Miyata mumbles against his lips, and oh my god, don't talk, just fuck me Tamamori thinks, and maybe he's a bit desperate now. It's what he ends up saying, too, and doesn't even consider being embarrassed about it.
"Please. Please, now. I've wanted this for so long. I've thought of you, you know. I always think of you. When I do this to myself. It's still always been you. So please." He knows he's rambling, fast and low, and he's not sure how much Miyata even understands, but from the way Miyata shivers against him, he understands enough.
Miyata withdraws his fingers and gets ready, and Tamamori can see his hands shaking as he rolls on a condom. When Miyata glances up at him, Tamamori is glad to see that it's not from nerves, because Miyata looks anything but nervous now. Dark, intense, he's radiating desire and lust and alright, Tamamori is not waiting any more.
He yanks Miyata down against him and wraps his legs around Miyata's waist. "Now, do it," Tamamori hisses, pushes up against him. Miyata pushes bluntly at his entrance and then stops and Tamamori wants to cry in frustration.
"Wait," Miyata says. "Wait, stop. Look at me."
Tamamori can barely get his eyes open, but he does. And it's a bit of a shock. He meets Miyata's eyes and for a moment, he thinks his heart is just going to explode, the pressure in his chest surpassing everything else.
"You know I love you, right?" Miyata says, and there's a rawness to it, his voice catching and breaking, and it breaks something inside Tamamori, as well.
"Yeah," he manages. "I know. I love you. I love you, too. So much." And then Miyata is pressing inside and Tamamori thinks he might be dying, because nothing in life could ever feel this good. There's pain, yes, but it's just a flickering beneath the rush of sparks that fly through him.
Miyata fills him perfectly, the pressure and heat and everything better than he imagined, but he's not thinking about it too much when Miyata immediately finds the right spot and sends him into convulsions. Tamamori clings and trembles and pushes back just as hard as he can, crying out to echo Miyata's gasps in his ear. He can't even hope to last as his orgasm comes crashing through him.
Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, Tamamori realizes that he can feel Miyata come, as well. It's a sort of throbbing inside in counterpoint to his own clenching muscles. But even if he couldn't feel it, he would know, what with the way Miyata is calling out his name in a voice that doesn't seem to be working properly anymore. Even as their shudders subside, Tamamori is in awe that Miyata could sound like that because of him.
He releases his hold on Miyata just long enough to let him pull out and remove the condom, and then he tugs him back down and curls up tightly against Miyata's chest, pushing his nose into Miyata's breastbone. He snuggles happily into the arms that come up to wrap around him and they wait together, heartbeats still slowing, neither ready to speak, content to breathe each other in.
After a few minutes, Miyata shifts and Tamamori can feel Miyata's breath ruffling his hair. "Ne, I thought… I thought the first time was supposed to be a little weird," Miyata says, softly.
Tamamori smiles. "It wasn't weird for you?"
"How could anything so perfect be weird?" Miyata answers, and Tamamori tilts his head up to catch a small frown on Miyata's face. He sounds a bit worried. "Was it weird for you?"
Tamamori laughs and wriggles closer. "No."
"Oh, okay." Miyata breathes a clear sigh of relief, and Tamamori can feel his small chuckle. "Well, then, just imagine next time."
And even the idea makes Tamamori moan slightly, which prompts more chuckles from Miyata.
"And next time," Miyata adds, "Next time, can I…"
"Can you what?"
"I… want to watch you." Tamamori can see Miyata's blush clearly in the morning light. He understands what Miyata is talking about and thinks Miyata's blush probably matches his own.
"I guess. But… it's better when it's you," he admits. "The angle is a bit awkward on my own." And then Tamamori laughs, because the look on Miyata's face is priceless- eyes squeezed shut and mouth open on a choked groan off groan. Tamamori wonders if he's killed Miyata's brain.
He figures if he hasn't yet, he's got plenty of time to try.