Happy Birthday Alcy!
Happy Birthday alcyonev !! Here’s some AU 5980 pron.
Gokudera lounged in a couch in La Queue, enjoying a cigarette and assessing the men around him. There were some regulars, like the blond with the cute freckles and a boyfriend (this was his entertainment on the side) and the short haired brunet who preferred skinny jeans to any other piece of clothing. Gokudera didn’t know their names, didn’t want to. He glanced past them, looking for one-timers - there were a couple of those as well on this Saturday night.
His perusal of the club paused momentarily when he spotted a familiar mop of messy black hair just settling into another chair. Gokudera unwound from his lounging, striding over to the person he thought he recognized. He was right in his guess - the man was Yamamoto Takeshi, Tsuna’s baseball-playing friend who’d made it big in the majors. Gokudera hadn’t known that Yamamoto batted for this team, but here was a bit of tangible proof.
“Hey.”
Yamamoto startled when he was called, looking over his shoulder in candid surprise. When he saw Gokudera, his eyebrows furrowed a moment more until he broke out a smile. “Hey there.”
Gokudera smirked. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”
Yamamoto laughed when his bluff was called. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it on the tip of my tongue. You’re Tsuna’s friend, right? Hmm…chemistry tutor back in undergraduate? I remember you were brilliant.”
Gokudera took another drag. “You’re right. Good memory.” They’d met at Tsuna’s birthday celebration about a year back, where they’d been the designated drivers because both of them had abstained from drink. Gokudera needed to drive himself across Japan the next day for a conference, and Yamamoto made a habit of not drinking, refraining from injuring any part of his body - especially the internal parts. Gokudera only found out who Yamamoto was a few days later, matching the tanned, handsome face with a personage in the celebrity news. He doubted Yamamoto remembered his name or knew his profession; the baseball player did not seem like one to scan through esoteric scholastic journals on the intricacies of neurochemistry. Gokudera loved his work, but he was enough of a realist to recognize that few other people adored it as he did.
“I’m Gokudera Hayato.” Gokudera said, sticking out his hand.
“Yamamoto Takeshi.” Yamamoto answered, shaking the proffered hand. “Nice to meet you again.”
Yamamoto’s hand was warm, Gokudera observed, and he was not letting go. This perhaps implied some things about Yamamoto’s intentions that boded well for the night. However, Gokudera was hyperaware that Yamamoto was a one-timer, if not a first-timer. The baseball player was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, all too ratty to qualify for clubbing clothes. Yamamoto had perhaps dropped by after wandering around on the street, not knowing what sort of gay club La Queue was.
Gokudera raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to sleep with me, Yamamoto Takeshi?”
Yamamoto’s grip tightened, and his eyes crinkled with mirth. “How blunt.”
Gokudera took one last drag before crushing his cigarette into an ashtray, taking his sweet time with his reply. “That’s because this club, La Queue, is not a place to find a boyfriend. It’s a place to find cock.” He enunciated every syllable of the last sentence and watched carefully as Yamamoto’s eyes were overlain with a sheen of lust. “Don’t be fooled by the prissy French - do you know what it translates to? Penis. Dick. Cock. Are you sure you aren’t in the wrong place, Yamamoto?”
“No, I’m not.” His lips curved into a secret smile, and he didn’t let go of Gokudera’s hand.
Gokudera grunted. “I suppose I should do the world a favor and save it from a fashion disaster like you. Come on.” He pulled Yamamoto up by their shared grip and moved toward the door. It was true that Yamamoto’s clothes were not the quintessential club-wear, but the shape of his arms and legs, the hint of the lean chest underneath that t-shirt, those attributes would have ensured Yamamoto a warm body for the night. Gokudera found himself thrumming with pleasure that Yamamoto was going home with him, that he’d feel that body first-hand before the night was out.
As they were leaving, Gokudera threw a wink over his shoulder to the bartender. Ami, bless him, would put the night’s expenses on his tab and even spare a thought to wish him well. But Gokudera wasn’t thinking of the bartender anymore.
“Your place or mine?” Gokudera murmured, already digging through his pockets for his car keys.
“Yours? It’s probably closer.”
Gokudera nodded. He pulled Yamamoto along until they reached his car (a sleek black BMW in which he greatly indulged) and then he cornered the baseball player against the passenger door, gripping Yamamoto’s shoulders with both hands. Gokudera pressed in for a fierce kiss, swallowing Yamamoto’s surprised gasp.
It wasn’t his usual style to steal hot kisses in a parking lot, but Gokudera didn’t feel any need to hesitate. He wasn’t an impatient teenager, too immature to wait. He was a hot-blooded man, feeling desire curl in his gut and needing a small taste of what was to come to stave off that hunger.
When he pulled back, Yamamoto’s small gasps could be heard, little intakes of breath as he stared at Gokudera with wide eyes. “T-That was hot.”
Gokudera chuckled. “Get in the car before I jump you. We’ll want to wait for a bed, trust me. The back of a car is too cramped to get it on correctly.”
They separated, Gokudera walking around to get into the driver’s side while Yamamoto slid into the shotgun seat. He buckled in his seat belt and slumped back, reclining with little art and yet a lean grace born of athleticism. Gokudera spared that posture a glance as he buckled in as well, started the car and backed out efficiently, the car purring with well-oiled speed as he made the turns that led to his home. During one of the red lights, Gokudera broke the silence and asked, “You don’t usually go out clubbing, do you?”
Yamamoto laughed. “Did my clothes give me away?”
“Among other things.” Gokudera glanced at Yamamoto from a corner of his eye. “You don’t have that vibe, I guess. I feel like…hmm…”
Yamamoto smiled weakly. “I’m bisexual. I actually…I’ve only slept with women before this. But I thought…maybe this would be something to try. It felt right.”
Just then, the light turned green and Gokudera had until the next red light to think about his response. He wasn’t one for virgins of any kind - they were too much work for a little pleasure. He preferred men who knew what they were doing, men who could fuck him into the mattress and make him writhe with pleasure. But maybe he could make an exception for Yamamoto.
They were almost at Gokudera’s house when he finally spoke up. “You realize this means that you’re on bottom, right?” He snuck a glance at Yamamoto’s face and couldn’t resist a smirk.
“W-What?”
“Don’t tell me you expected to be on top your first time. How’re you supposed to make someone feel good when you haven’t experienced it yourself?”
“I did pretty well my first time with a girl…”
Gokudera rolled his eyes. “I-diot. It hurts more with guys, especially if you don’t lubricate. But don’t worry. I’ll make you feel good.” They were at a red light, and Gokudera leaned over to press a quick kiss to the spot right underneath Yamamoto’s ear. Then, the light turned green and Gokudera made his turn.
During the last stretch of the drive, he noticed Yamamoto reaching up and rubbing at his kiss-mark self-consciously. Gokudera slowed and parked in front of his home, one of a row of three-story townhouses that were the perfect size and price for a bachelor like him.
Gokudera turned off the engine but didn’t remove his seat belt. “If you’re that uncomfortable with being on bottom, I’ll take you back to the club.” He offered this without looking at Yamamoto, knowing if he did that it would be infinitely harder to relinquish this opportunity.
There was silence. Then, Gokudera heard the click of a seat belt releasing and saw Yamamoto pressing close from the corner of his eye. He turned his head in time to receive a kiss on the mouth, gentle and sweet.
“I trust you.” Yamamoto said after he pulled apart. “Let’s do it.”
Two car doors opened and slammed shut. Before Gokudera knew it, they were inside his townhouse and lip-locked again, two pairs of hands deftly stripping clothes as Gokudera pushed them up the stairs. They left their shoes teetering on the first steps, Gokudera’s leather belt slithering down on the second. Yamamoto’s t-shirt was left draped across the stair railing and Gokudera’s button-up and undershirt hit the stairway step soon after. Pants were trickier - Gokudera maneuvered his yummy baseball player into a sitting position on the top landing and pulled off the baggy shorts and white socks, leaving his boxers as the last scrap of clothing hiding him from nudity.
Gokudera ran an appreciative hand over Yamamoto’s abs, swearing that the muscles rippled under his fingertips when touched. Yamamoto squirmed. “That tickles.”
“Hmm.” Gokudera rubbed a thumb over Yamamoto’s nipple. “Very sensitive, aren’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Gokudera leaned down and tongued the edges of Yamamoto’s clavicle. He slowly and quietly laid a line of kisses down Yamamoto’s chest, down his stomach, nearing the thatch of dark hair curling over most sensitive place.
Gokudera laid his last kiss over the length of Yamamoto’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers, but then he sat up and patted Yamamoto’s elbow. “Up you go. Lube and condoms are on the third floor.”
Yamamoto’s mouth fell open and he groaned. “We can’t do it here and now?”
“That would be a first.” Gokudera commented dryly. “I promise you that it will feel much better on a bed. And with lube.”
Gokudera stood up and offered Yamamoto a hand, which was taken. They stumbled up the last flight of stairs, Gokudera leading the way to his room once they reached the third floor. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” Gokudera said as he shimmied out of his jeans. As Yamamoto obeyed, Gokudera went over to his dresser and grabbed a couple condoms and a half-full bottle of lube before returning to the baseball player and settling in a sitting position on the floor in between Yamamoto’s legs.
Yamamoto looked down at him, his eyes excited but apprehensive. “Are you going to-”
“Yes, I am going to blow you, Yamamoto. Sit back and enjoy it.”
Gokudera peeled off Yamamoto’s boxers, tossing them over his shoulder before admiring the sight before him. Yamamoto was fully erect, his cock red and bobbing in the fresh air. Gokudera ripped open a condom and fit it over Yamamoto snugly, rolling the rubber down to the base. Then, with a breath, he fit his mouth over the tip and started applying suction.
Yamamoto gave a great shuddering sigh, his tawny lion’s eyes completely focused on Gokudera’s stretched lips and increasingly full mouth. When Gokudera eventually deep-throated him, he gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, a full-body shudder going through him as pleasure coagulated in his stomach. “Gokudera, I’m gonna…gonna cum-”
Gokudera lifted his mouth, unthinkingly tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear. He placed a hand on Yamamoto’s trembling thigh, licking his lips. “I’m going to start stretching you now.”
“Stretching me…”
Gokudera raised an eyebrow. “Down there.”
“Oh, ahaha.”
Gokudera looked up at him and pursed his mouth. “You’re such an idiot. Do I have to spell it out for you? I am putting my fingers in your ass so that it won’t hurt when I put in my cock.”
Yamamoto offered him a lopsided smile.
Gokudera softened a little, patting Yamamoto’s thigh reassuringly with his hand. “It’ll be okay. Scoot up a little, will you? And lay down.”
Yamamoto did as he asked and Gokudera crawled onto the bed, taking the lube with him. He uncapped the small bottle and squeezed some gel onto his fingers. His hand went to the curve of Yamamoto’s ass, thumb running over the ring of muscle that was going to be the focus of all his attention.
“Hmm, raise your legs. Try to relax.”
Yamamoto shifted to accommodate.
Gokudera went down on him again, his head bobbing up and down as his slick fingers started to penetrate Yamamoto. The first digit went in smoothly but Gokudera still took his time before adding another. Soon, he was pumping two fingers in and out of Yamamoto, scissoring and twisting them frequently. Before going further, Gokudera raised his head and asked, “Can I add another finger?”
Yamamoto’s face was an amalgamation of pleasure and pain; in Gokudera’s experience, the line between those two was always tenuous in bed. “Y-Yeah. Go ahead.”
There was a soft squelch as Gokudera added a third finger, and Yamamoto groaned. Gokudera returned to sucking the tip of Yamamoto’s cock, his neck and jaw starting to ache from the prolonged movement and stretch. But seeing Yamamoto like this - laid out and almost ready for him - was worth it. Gokudera pumped his three fingers in and out, imagining his cock being sheathed in such tightness.
Gokudera rolled away to shed his boxers and to put a condom on himself. He rolled back almost immediately, looming over Yamamoto. “Ready?”
Yamamoto nodded. With that, Gokudera hoisted up Yamamoto’s legs and aligned himself, bracing his knees in the comforter as best as he could. The initial entrance was torturous for Gokudera; even with stretching, Yamamoto’s ass was virgin-tight and Gokudera forced it to be a slow going. He slid home to the harmony of Yamamoto’s pained gasps, leaning down to kiss him in apology when he was fully sheathed.
“You’re so tight.” Gokudera grunted.
“Haha, and you’re so big. I didn’t realize-ah!”
Sweat was slipping down Gokudera’s forehead with the effort it took to hold back, to only make shallow thrusts into Yamamoto. He gradually quickened his rhythm, changing the angle of his thrusts until Yamamoto was consistently moaning and whimpering with pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenching and unclenching sporadically. Gokudera smirked, pleased by the sound of the mattress springs creaking, by the ecstasy present in Yamamoto’s expression and by the insistent pleading in his voice. He had a distinctly famous baseball player in his bed, one whose virginity (of a sort) he’d just taken and whose cries were still begging for him to fuck him roughly into the bed. Gokudera hadn’t had such a boost to his ego since being awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to China two years ago.
Yamamoto writhed and came, clenching around Gokudera as he choked out his name. Gokudera came as well, milked by Yamamoto’s tight ass until he was left heaving for breath. Gokudera separated himself in the aftershocks and allowed Yamamoto’s legs to drop to the bed. After a few more breaths, he stripped off both of their condoms and padded into his bathroom to throw them away. When he came back, Yamamoto had shaken off some of his sluggishness and was stretching his muscles on Gokudera’s bed.
“Wow, that was intense.” Yamamoto said, grinning.
Gokudera crawled up on the bed and sprawled out next to the baseball player. “That was your prostate, idiot. Didn’t you do any research before going to a gay club?”
Yamamoto shrugged with a smile.
“Arrrrgh, I can just imagine the disaster this would’ve been if I’d let you top. I’d be in so much pain right now…”
Yamamoto’s smile weakened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d be so hard to, um, to have sex.”
“Because every woman opens up her legs to you so easily and moans so prettily?”
Yamamoto flushed and bit his lip. “You think that…”
Gokudera sighed. “I shouldn’t blame you for your overinflated ego, I guess. You’re a famous baseball player and you’re… ‘hunky,’ I guess the word is, and everyone’s throwing themselves at you so who wouldn’t develop a big ego?” Gokudera stared grumpily at Yamamoto. “So what I’m saying is that it isn’t your fault.”
Yamamoto looked incongruously delighted at his statement. “You’re hunky too, Gokudera! I can’t believe you’re really a…what was it, a neurochemist?”
Gokudera stilled. “How do you know I’m a neurochemist?”
Yamamoto blinked; with his mouth slightly open, he looked like a codfish. “Um, I saw your certificates when we were downstairs!”
“You seemed more interested in me than my certificates when we were downstairs. In any case, they’re in my office, and unless you have X-ray vision…” Gokudera waited for an explanation.
Yamamoto opened his mouth. He was interrupted again by Gokudera before he spoke. “If you don’t tell me the truth, Yamamoto, I am very liable to kick you out of my bed and out of my house.”
Yamamoto took Gokudera’s warning seriously. “Um, Gokudera, I’ve actually…I’ve liked you for a while. Ever since Tsuna’s birthday party? So I tried to find you - it was really hard because I didn’t want to ask Tsuna - and it took a long time because I thought you were a model or something and you’re really a scientist and besides, I never have any time during baseball season, but I finally found you and tonight I went into a club I knew you liked.”
Gokudera glared at him. “All right, get out. You can’t expect me to believe a load of crap like that-”
“But Gokudera, it’s the truth! Ever since that night, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, and I just, just wanted to see you.”
“And to have sex with me.”
“Well, that, also.” Yamamoto admitted. “It was better than I ever imagined.”
Gokudera said nothing; he didn’t know what he could say.
Yamamoto continued. “You…you probably have a lot of experience with guys, don’t you?”
Gokudera shrugged. “Probably not as much as you have with girls.”
“But you still go to that club. La Queue. You still…you’re looking for sex, not a boyfriend.”
They were both silent for several moments. Gokudera stirred, trailing a finger up Yamamoto’s chest. “Well, you were pretty good at man sex, even on your first try.” He admitted grudgingly. “Maybe, if you learn quickly and keep improving, I won’t get bored and I’ll let you stick around.”
Yamamoto beamed.
Gokudera lounged in a couch in La Queue, enjoying a cigarette and assessing the men around him. There were some regulars, like the blond with the cute freckles and a boyfriend (this was his entertainment on the side) and the short haired brunet who preferred skinny jeans to any other piece of clothing. Gokudera didn’t know their names, didn’t want to. He glanced past them, looking for one-timers - there were a couple of those as well on this Saturday night.
His perusal of the club paused momentarily when he spotted a familiar mop of messy black hair just settling into another chair. Gokudera unwound from his lounging, striding over to the person he thought he recognized. He was right in his guess - the man was Yamamoto Takeshi, Tsuna’s baseball-playing friend who’d made it big in the majors. Gokudera hadn’t known that Yamamoto batted for this team, but here was a bit of tangible proof.
“Hey.”
Yamamoto startled when he was called, looking over his shoulder in candid surprise. When he saw Gokudera, his eyebrows furrowed a moment more until he broke out a smile. “Hey there.”
Gokudera smirked. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”
Yamamoto laughed when his bluff was called. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it on the tip of my tongue. You’re Tsuna’s friend, right? Hmm…chemistry tutor back in undergraduate? I remember you were brilliant.”
Gokudera took another drag. “You’re right. Good memory.” They’d met at Tsuna’s birthday celebration about a year back, where they’d been the designated drivers because both of them had abstained from drink. Gokudera needed to drive himself across Japan the next day for a conference, and Yamamoto made a habit of not drinking, refraining from injuring any part of his body - especially the internal parts. Gokudera only found out who Yamamoto was a few days later, matching the tanned, handsome face with a personage in the celebrity news. He doubted Yamamoto remembered his name or knew his profession; the baseball player did not seem like one to scan through esoteric scholastic journals on the intricacies of neurochemistry. Gokudera loved his work, but he was enough of a realist to recognize that few other people adored it as he did.
“I’m Gokudera Hayato.” Gokudera said, sticking out his hand.
“Yamamoto Takeshi.” Yamamoto answered, shaking the proffered hand. “Nice to meet you again.”
Yamamoto’s hand was warm, Gokudera observed, and he was not letting go. This perhaps implied some things about Yamamoto’s intentions that boded well for the night. However, Gokudera was hyperaware that Yamamoto was a one-timer, if not a first-timer. The baseball player was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, all too ratty to qualify for clubbing clothes. Yamamoto had perhaps dropped by after wandering around on the street, not knowing what sort of gay club La Queue was.
Gokudera raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to sleep with me, Yamamoto Takeshi?”
Yamamoto’s grip tightened, and his eyes crinkled with mirth. “How blunt.”
Gokudera took one last drag before crushing his cigarette into an ashtray, taking his sweet time with his reply. “That’s because this club, La Queue, is not a place to find a boyfriend. It’s a place to find cock.” He enunciated every syllable of the last sentence and watched carefully as Yamamoto’s eyes were overlain with a sheen of lust. “Don’t be fooled by the prissy French - do you know what it translates to? Penis. Dick. Cock. Are you sure you aren’t in the wrong place, Yamamoto?”
“No, I’m not.” His lips curved into a secret smile, and he didn’t let go of Gokudera’s hand.
Gokudera grunted. “I suppose I should do the world a favor and save it from a fashion disaster like you. Come on.” He pulled Yamamoto up by their shared grip and moved toward the door. It was true that Yamamoto’s clothes were not the quintessential club-wear, but the shape of his arms and legs, the hint of the lean chest underneath that t-shirt, those attributes would have ensured Yamamoto a warm body for the night. Gokudera found himself thrumming with pleasure that Yamamoto was going home with him, that he’d feel that body first-hand before the night was out.
As they were leaving, Gokudera threw a wink over his shoulder to the bartender. Ami, bless him, would put the night’s expenses on his tab and even spare a thought to wish him well. But Gokudera wasn’t thinking of the bartender anymore.
“Your place or mine?” Gokudera murmured, already digging through his pockets for his car keys.
“Yours? It’s probably closer.”
Gokudera nodded. He pulled Yamamoto along until they reached his car (a sleek black BMW in which he greatly indulged) and then he cornered the baseball player against the passenger door, gripping Yamamoto’s shoulders with both hands. Gokudera pressed in for a fierce kiss, swallowing Yamamoto’s surprised gasp.
It wasn’t his usual style to steal hot kisses in a parking lot, but Gokudera didn’t feel any need to hesitate. He wasn’t an impatient teenager, too immature to wait. He was a hot-blooded man, feeling desire curl in his gut and needing a small taste of what was to come to stave off that hunger.
When he pulled back, Yamamoto’s small gasps could be heard, little intakes of breath as he stared at Gokudera with wide eyes. “T-That was hot.”
Gokudera chuckled. “Get in the car before I jump you. We’ll want to wait for a bed, trust me. The back of a car is too cramped to get it on correctly.”
They separated, Gokudera walking around to get into the driver’s side while Yamamoto slid into the shotgun seat. He buckled in his seat belt and slumped back, reclining with little art and yet a lean grace born of athleticism. Gokudera spared that posture a glance as he buckled in as well, started the car and backed out efficiently, the car purring with well-oiled speed as he made the turns that led to his home. During one of the red lights, Gokudera broke the silence and asked, “You don’t usually go out clubbing, do you?”
Yamamoto laughed. “Did my clothes give me away?”
“Among other things.” Gokudera glanced at Yamamoto from a corner of his eye. “You don’t have that vibe, I guess. I feel like…hmm…”
Yamamoto smiled weakly. “I’m bisexual. I actually…I’ve only slept with women before this. But I thought…maybe this would be something to try. It felt right.”
Just then, the light turned green and Gokudera had until the next red light to think about his response. He wasn’t one for virgins of any kind - they were too much work for a little pleasure. He preferred men who knew what they were doing, men who could fuck him into the mattress and make him writhe with pleasure. But maybe he could make an exception for Yamamoto.
They were almost at Gokudera’s house when he finally spoke up. “You realize this means that you’re on bottom, right?” He snuck a glance at Yamamoto’s face and couldn’t resist a smirk.
“W-What?”
“Don’t tell me you expected to be on top your first time. How’re you supposed to make someone feel good when you haven’t experienced it yourself?”
“I did pretty well my first time with a girl…”
Gokudera rolled his eyes. “I-diot. It hurts more with guys, especially if you don’t lubricate. But don’t worry. I’ll make you feel good.” They were at a red light, and Gokudera leaned over to press a quick kiss to the spot right underneath Yamamoto’s ear. Then, the light turned green and Gokudera made his turn.
During the last stretch of the drive, he noticed Yamamoto reaching up and rubbing at his kiss-mark self-consciously. Gokudera slowed and parked in front of his home, one of a row of three-story townhouses that were the perfect size and price for a bachelor like him.
Gokudera turned off the engine but didn’t remove his seat belt. “If you’re that uncomfortable with being on bottom, I’ll take you back to the club.” He offered this without looking at Yamamoto, knowing if he did that it would be infinitely harder to relinquish this opportunity.
There was silence. Then, Gokudera heard the click of a seat belt releasing and saw Yamamoto pressing close from the corner of his eye. He turned his head in time to receive a kiss on the mouth, gentle and sweet.
“I trust you.” Yamamoto said after he pulled apart. “Let’s do it.”
Two car doors opened and slammed shut. Before Gokudera knew it, they were inside his townhouse and lip-locked again, two pairs of hands deftly stripping clothes as Gokudera pushed them up the stairs. They left their shoes teetering on the first steps, Gokudera’s leather belt slithering down on the second. Yamamoto’s t-shirt was left draped across the stair railing and Gokudera’s button-up and undershirt hit the stairway step soon after. Pants were trickier - Gokudera maneuvered his yummy baseball player into a sitting position on the top landing and pulled off the baggy shorts and white socks, leaving his boxers as the last scrap of clothing hiding him from nudity.
Gokudera ran an appreciative hand over Yamamoto’s abs, swearing that the muscles rippled under his fingertips when touched. Yamamoto squirmed. “That tickles.”
“Hmm.” Gokudera rubbed a thumb over Yamamoto’s nipple. “Very sensitive, aren’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Gokudera leaned down and tongued the edges of Yamamoto’s clavicle. He slowly and quietly laid a line of kisses down Yamamoto’s chest, down his stomach, nearing the thatch of dark hair curling over most sensitive place.
Gokudera laid his last kiss over the length of Yamamoto’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers, but then he sat up and patted Yamamoto’s elbow. “Up you go. Lube and condoms are on the third floor.”
Yamamoto’s mouth fell open and he groaned. “We can’t do it here and now?”
“That would be a first.” Gokudera commented dryly. “I promise you that it will feel much better on a bed. And with lube.”
Gokudera stood up and offered Yamamoto a hand, which was taken. They stumbled up the last flight of stairs, Gokudera leading the way to his room once they reached the third floor. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” Gokudera said as he shimmied out of his jeans. As Yamamoto obeyed, Gokudera went over to his dresser and grabbed a couple condoms and a half-full bottle of lube before returning to the baseball player and settling in a sitting position on the floor in between Yamamoto’s legs.
Yamamoto looked down at him, his eyes excited but apprehensive. “Are you going to-”
“Yes, I am going to blow you, Yamamoto. Sit back and enjoy it.”
Gokudera peeled off Yamamoto’s boxers, tossing them over his shoulder before admiring the sight before him. Yamamoto was fully erect, his cock red and bobbing in the fresh air. Gokudera ripped open a condom and fit it over Yamamoto snugly, rolling the rubber down to the base. Then, with a breath, he fit his mouth over the tip and started applying suction.
Yamamoto gave a great shuddering sigh, his tawny lion’s eyes completely focused on Gokudera’s stretched lips and increasingly full mouth. When Gokudera eventually deep-throated him, he gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, a full-body shudder going through him as pleasure coagulated in his stomach. “Gokudera, I’m gonna…gonna cum-”
Gokudera lifted his mouth, unthinkingly tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear. He placed a hand on Yamamoto’s trembling thigh, licking his lips. “I’m going to start stretching you now.”
“Stretching me…”
Gokudera raised an eyebrow. “Down there.”
“Oh, ahaha.”
Gokudera looked up at him and pursed his mouth. “You’re such an idiot. Do I have to spell it out for you? I am putting my fingers in your ass so that it won’t hurt when I put in my cock.”
Yamamoto offered him a lopsided smile.
Gokudera softened a little, patting Yamamoto’s thigh reassuringly with his hand. “It’ll be okay. Scoot up a little, will you? And lay down.”
Yamamoto did as he asked and Gokudera crawled onto the bed, taking the lube with him. He uncapped the small bottle and squeezed some gel onto his fingers. His hand went to the curve of Yamamoto’s ass, thumb running over the ring of muscle that was going to be the focus of all his attention.
“Hmm, raise your legs. Try to relax.”
Yamamoto shifted to accommodate.
Gokudera went down on him again, his head bobbing up and down as his slick fingers started to penetrate Yamamoto. The first digit went in smoothly but Gokudera still took his time before adding another. Soon, he was pumping two fingers in and out of Yamamoto, scissoring and twisting them frequently. Before going further, Gokudera raised his head and asked, “Can I add another finger?”
Yamamoto’s face was an amalgamation of pleasure and pain; in Gokudera’s experience, the line between those two was always tenuous in bed. “Y-Yeah. Go ahead.”
There was a soft squelch as Gokudera added a third finger, and Yamamoto groaned. Gokudera returned to sucking the tip of Yamamoto’s cock, his neck and jaw starting to ache from the prolonged movement and stretch. But seeing Yamamoto like this - laid out and almost ready for him - was worth it. Gokudera pumped his three fingers in and out, imagining his cock being sheathed in such tightness.
Gokudera rolled away to shed his boxers and to put a condom on himself. He rolled back almost immediately, looming over Yamamoto. “Ready?”
Yamamoto nodded. With that, Gokudera hoisted up Yamamoto’s legs and aligned himself, bracing his knees in the comforter as best as he could. The initial entrance was torturous for Gokudera; even with stretching, Yamamoto’s ass was virgin-tight and Gokudera forced it to be a slow going. He slid home to the harmony of Yamamoto’s pained gasps, leaning down to kiss him in apology when he was fully sheathed.
“You’re so tight.” Gokudera grunted.
“Haha, and you’re so big. I didn’t realize-ah!”
Sweat was slipping down Gokudera’s forehead with the effort it took to hold back, to only make shallow thrusts into Yamamoto. He gradually quickened his rhythm, changing the angle of his thrusts until Yamamoto was consistently moaning and whimpering with pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenching and unclenching sporadically. Gokudera smirked, pleased by the sound of the mattress springs creaking, by the ecstasy present in Yamamoto’s expression and by the insistent pleading in his voice. He had a distinctly famous baseball player in his bed, one whose virginity (of a sort) he’d just taken and whose cries were still begging for him to fuck him roughly into the bed. Gokudera hadn’t had such a boost to his ego since being awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to China two years ago.
Yamamoto writhed and came, clenching around Gokudera as he choked out his name. Gokudera came as well, milked by Yamamoto’s tight ass until he was left heaving for breath. Gokudera separated himself in the aftershocks and allowed Yamamoto’s legs to drop to the bed. After a few more breaths, he stripped off both of their condoms and padded into his bathroom to throw them away. When he came back, Yamamoto had shaken off some of his sluggishness and was stretching his muscles on Gokudera’s bed.
“Wow, that was intense.” Yamamoto said, grinning.
Gokudera crawled up on the bed and sprawled out next to the baseball player. “That was your prostate, idiot. Didn’t you do any research before going to a gay club?”
Yamamoto shrugged with a smile.
“Arrrrgh, I can just imagine the disaster this would’ve been if I’d let you top. I’d be in so much pain right now…”
Yamamoto’s smile weakened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d be so hard to, um, to have sex.”
“Because every woman opens up her legs to you so easily and moans so prettily?”
Yamamoto flushed and bit his lip. “You think that…”
Gokudera sighed. “I shouldn’t blame you for your overinflated ego, I guess. You’re a famous baseball player and you’re… ‘hunky,’ I guess the word is, and everyone’s throwing themselves at you so who wouldn’t develop a big ego?” Gokudera stared grumpily at Yamamoto. “So what I’m saying is that it isn’t your fault.”
Yamamoto looked incongruously delighted at his statement. “You’re hunky too, Gokudera! I can’t believe you’re really a…what was it, a neurochemist?”
Gokudera stilled. “How do you know I’m a neurochemist?”
Yamamoto blinked; with his mouth slightly open, he looked like a codfish. “Um, I saw your certificates when we were downstairs!”
“You seemed more interested in me than my certificates when we were downstairs. In any case, they’re in my office, and unless you have X-ray vision…” Gokudera waited for an explanation.
Yamamoto opened his mouth. He was interrupted again by Gokudera before he spoke. “If you don’t tell me the truth, Yamamoto, I am very liable to kick you out of my bed and out of my house.”
Yamamoto took Gokudera’s warning seriously. “Um, Gokudera, I’ve actually…I’ve liked you for a while. Ever since Tsuna’s birthday party? So I tried to find you - it was really hard because I didn’t want to ask Tsuna - and it took a long time because I thought you were a model or something and you’re really a scientist and besides, I never have any time during baseball season, but I finally found you and tonight I went into a club I knew you liked.”
Gokudera glared at him. “All right, get out. You can’t expect me to believe a load of crap like that-”
“But Gokudera, it’s the truth! Ever since that night, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, and I just, just wanted to see you.”
“And to have sex with me.”
“Well, that, also.” Yamamoto admitted. “It was better than I ever imagined.”
Gokudera said nothing; he didn’t know what he could say.
Yamamoto continued. “You…you probably have a lot of experience with guys, don’t you?”
Gokudera shrugged. “Probably not as much as you have with girls.”
“But you still go to that club. La Queue. You still…you’re looking for sex, not a boyfriend.”
They were both silent for several moments. Gokudera stirred, trailing a finger up Yamamoto’s chest. “Well, you were pretty good at man sex, even on your first try.” He admitted grudgingly. “Maybe, if you learn quickly and keep improving, I won’t get bored and I’ll let you stick around.”
Yamamoto beamed.