[Kaoru can feel Kojiro's laughter all the way to his core. God, he's so full of himself, isn't he? Kaoru would almost find that aggravating, if not for the fact that it's 100% earned. He knows exactly what he's doing. A blessing, because Kaoru really does get to turn off all his overthinking in favour of getting lost in the way big hands pull him into position like he's done this a hundred times. And maybe that's the power of Kojiro being the one who let himself think about this, the one who let himself really want it--if Kaoru had entertained any such thing for longer than a moment without immediately shoving it away, maybe it would be just as intuitive to work his fingers through Kojiro's hair without clinging for dear life, or hook his legs around Kojiro's shoulders without digging heels into his shoulderblades, every muscle pulled so tight that it feels like he might just snap. Because, fuck, is having Kojiro's hands on his ass and his mouth on his dick at the same time ever right on the edge of way too much.
He's vaguely aware that his legs are trembling like crazy. Some part of his mind is trying to remember how to feel embarrassed about that, pinned in place by the heat of Kojiro's gaze and no longer able to hold back the moans that keep spilling from his throat. Embarrassment has slid off to somewhere he can't quite reach it, though, and that is a whole other kind of bliss. He wants more, wants total oblivion. So he bucks his hips up desperately in search of it.]
[ Kaoru's legs are all but shaking him apart on either side of Kojiro's head, and that's another line item for Kojiro's brand new list of Things He Loves About Fucking Kaoru. It's another facet that doesn't quite match up to his imagination, because somehow, he'd never expected Kaoru to be so incredibly responsive to his touch. He keeps grasping tighter and pulling Kojiro closer, and fuck, Kojiro wishes he had words for exactly how it feels to be so needed. It's incredible. Kaoru is incredible.
Kojiro's mouth makes an absolutely obscene sound when he pulls Kaoru's cock free of it. Just for a few moments, just long enough to lean over to his bedside table and single-handedly fumble his way through spilling some lube into his palm. Then he's right back to task, right back between Kaoru's thighs, with the addition of slick fingers pressing beneath Kaoru to tease at his entrance. ]
How we feeling, beautiful?
[ Nice of Kojiro to check in, at least. Or make the effort. It's a miracle he manages that much, because Kaoru's hole is tight against his fingertips, and there's an impending promise of driving him so much farther out of his mind that Kojiro can't resist. He doesn't give Kaoru a chance to respond; half a breath later, he's devouring Kaoru's cock again in earnest, hot and wet and back to that same driving pace, just as his forefinger sinks slowly into Kaoru's body. ]
[He fully growls in protest at the sudden loss of Kojiro's mouth, which he is already so fully addicted to that he's sure he never wants to feel anything else every again in his life.
Or so he thinks, until he feels Kojiro's fingers there. Choked, frantic moans follow the initial sharp gasp, so he has no idea how Kojiro expects him to respond to that question with anything besides half-formed syllables that are almost a string of expletives.
And then he's surrounded by wet heat again, relentless, all the more overwhelming for the momentary break and the added sensation of being slowly pressed open—
The orgasm hits him so suddenly he doesn't have a chance for so much as a word of warning, and with such force that he feels almost as if he's left his body. He can't even tell if he's really saying Kojiro's name, or just shaping his lips around it again and again through each shuddering breath.]
[ And fuck if that's not the hottest thing Kojiro's ever seen in his entire life.
It's a hell of an upward trajectory, because he swears he's had the carbon-copy same thought at least a hundred times over tonight. But this is something entirely different. Staring up at Kaoru from between his legs, watching him come apart, seeing all those tightly-bound threads unravel 'til he can't even find his words; composure lost, because of Kojiro. And now he's silently praying to every deity he knows the name for, pleading to find some shred of patience left within himself. Because Kaoru's flooding him just as surely as he's spilling into Kojiro's mouth, and Kojiro's drinking him all down -- literally and figuratively -- and it's really too fucking much. ]
Fuck, Kaoru. [ He murmurs against the inside of Kaoru's thigh. ] You--
[ Kaoru's on his back before Kojiro can elaborate. He can taste himself when Kojiro captures his lips again, feel the weight of Kojiro's cock hard and heavy against his hip, and then the careful pressure of a second finger slipping into him. ]
Always wanted to see you like that. [ It's almost a growl against Kaoru's mouth, strained with lust and gravid with sincerity. ] Wanna see you like that over and over.
[He tries to glare when Kojiro pushes him down, tries to hate that he's being taken advantage of when there isn't enough strength in his body to fight back, but he just can't pull it off convincingly. So, fuck it. Fine. He'll kiss back and press his hips up into Kojiro's hardness with whatever strength he can muster, and appreciate that being temporarily drained of tension means that those thick fingers are pressing into him that much more easily.]
You're getting greedy. I want to see you too, you know.
[It's hypocrisy of the highest order, but he doesn't care. His own greed drives him to kiss Kojiro like they're running out of time, like tasting his mouth is the last memory he'll ever be able to make. Kaoru will get what he wants, because he (nearly) always does. Because he won't rest until he's sure he's the best Kojiro has ever had.]
[ Kojiro's always been selfless. Not that he ever thinks of himself that way, but no one can argue that Kojiro provides. He gives. He lets people take and take from him, and he never asks for anything in return. So maybe he's allowed to be a little greedy, just with this. He'll bully more and more pleasure into Kaoru, just to see that beautiful face when he falls apart, and he'll do it unrepenting. He deserves that much.
But Kaoru's not wrong either. He gets what he wants, and to that end, being Kojiro's lover will be absolute hell on his self control. He'll have everything he wants and so much more, no questions asked. Kojiro might give him more than he can rightly handle.
Case in point, there is no reason for Kojiro to move his fingerpads so directly within Kaoru, no sense in such an unmerciful attack, no kindness in overwhelming Kaoru when he's still recovering from his last end. But here he is, working Kaoru open on two fingers that haven't stopped stroking those raw nerves since they first pushed into him. And all the while, that smile never leaves his face. ]
Need your help with this part, sweetheart.
[ Kojiro gets an arm under Kaoru's shoulders, then uses the leverage to switch their places. With Kaoru over him -- legs splayed over his hips -- it'll be easier. Easier for Kojiro to kick his own pants away, easier withdraw from Kaoru's body and thoroughly cover himself with the remaining lube, easier to press the thick head of his cock to Kaoru's entrance instead. But from there, he stills, and he waits. Bated breath, aching to bury in deep, but restraining that need for Kaoru's sake. ]
You decide when. Go slow. Get yourself on. And lemme know when you're ready for me to move.
[Yes, Kojiro certainly is the type who gives. Especially now, when he acquiesces so easily to Kaoru’s demands with no trace of the usual put-upon sighs. Maybe Kaoru should see the danger in this, in just how deep he’s getting himself. But there’s no room for that, given Kojiro’s continued relentless assault on his senses.
There’s not even room for him to remember to resist or complain when Kojiro is manhandling him like he’s some kind of weightless ragdoll, again. He’ll have to find the appropriate anger for that later, when he isn’t so preoccupied with Kojiro pressed hard and slick against him. Almost definitely too soon—Kaoru’s legs still feel weak, like one false move will leave him trembling out of control again—but defiance and curiosity team up to make him start to press down almost immediately anyway.
He hardly has to move for all of the air to be knocked out of his lungs. The stretch is searing and sweet, and makes his toes curl uselessly as he tries and fails to force his body to move even an inch further.]
Shit…!
[He bites his lip, braces his hands on Kojiro’s shoulders to try to centre himself. This big, stupid body that does nothing but draw in a never-ending stream of girls, with their soft faces and red-painted lips. But now it’s Kaoru smoothing his palms over so much sunkissed skin, mapping out the swells of hard muscle. And he’s going to keep it that way. He just has to remember how to breathe.
In, out. Until his body is accustomed enough to the burn that he can coax his legs out of being locked in place. Slowly, slowly, he eases himself down on Kojiro’s cock. Keeps himself breathing, even though it comes out shuddering and harsh. Past the point where Kojiro’s fingers took him apart, until he’s fully seated and filled impossibly full and deep. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes. Ecstasy crackles through his nerves. He tenses and relaxes once, twice, three times. Trying to get used to the sensation overload, but also deliberately teasing as best as he can right now.]
Focus on Kaoru's command. On the countdown, on the numbers. That's all he has to do. Not the breath that's ripped from his lungs the moment Kaoru's body parts for him. Not the helpless moan he stifles when Kaoru seats himself completely. Not the stutter in his hips when Kaoru shudders around him, clenches and pulls, so tight he's seeing stars and so hot he's going mad.
None of that. The numbers.
Four... Three...
Five seconds can't be enough, but Kojiro knows better than to question Kaoru's judgement. He won't. He can't. Not when self-control is monopolizing every misfiring end of his last fucking nerve. His hands cover Kaoru's where they've spread over his chest, fingers curl beneath his palms. Grounding. Breathe, baby, he whispers, and then gasps in a slow breath himself.
Two...
So close, so close, so fucking close. The numbers. Two. So close... Two pale knees bracketing his hips. Two hands spreading fire over his skin. So fucking close... Two eyes, stricken; liquid gold to melt straight through him.
One.
Kojiro surges forward, hooks a hand behind Kaoru's neck, and crushes their lips together again. It's all teeth and tongue. He consumes Kaoru, devours him, thoroughly eviscerates him with a kiss. Maybe that'll be enough to anchor Kaoru against the first careful, firm push of Kojiro's hips. ]
[Kaoru imagines he can feel, almost hear the energy buzzing under Kojiro’s skin, waiting to be released. It’s in his big hands blanketing Kaoru’s own, and in the warm timbre of his voice. Potential energy, ready to become kinetic.
The numbers are comforting, in this moment teetering on the edge. One last hold on familiarity before Kaoru inevitably takes on more than he can comfortably handle. Again. Deliberately. But Kojiro is here with him. It’ll be okay.
He pulls as much air into his lungs as he can, and it’s a good thing too, because in the next moment Kojiro crashes into him and drags him under like a tidal wave. His cries have nowhere to go, stifled against that bruising kiss. It’s definitely too much. Sensory overload, sweet pain hitting so deep that in the moment, Kaoru is convinced he’ll never stop feeling it. He isn’t even aware of his fingernails scraping down Kojiro’s chest, nor the tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Too much, too much… and he only wants more.]
[ Kojiro's got a mean streak. It's one of his best-kept secrets, but Kaoru's known him long enough to spot it. He's kind and generous right up until it's time to punch someone in the face, and then he's brutal and precise in his execution. Kaoru can see it now, when Kojiro tips his head back to catch Kaoru's gaze again. He can see the subtle spark in Kojiro's eyes, like sunlight flashing behind amber, hard above the sudden set of his jaw. It's not anger. Hunger might be a better word, but it doesn't feel nice by any stretch.
He can't help it. Kaoru's too pretty like this, all muffled cries and choked tears. And if it were anyone else in the world, Kojiro would slam on the breaks. But he knows Kaoru too well for that. He knows that hurt -- real hurt -- doesn't look like this, and that his own instincts wouldn't allow a hurt like that to happen. So as much as Kaoru wants more, Kojiro wants to give it to him; wants to overwhelm him completely, wants to turn him out, wants to leave his mark so thoroughly that Kaoru will never settle for anything (anyone) less again. ]
Look at you. [ It's practically a growl as Kojiro's cock eases, and then plunges deep. ] Never seen that face on you before.
[ Again, his hips piston, again he fills Kaoru. It's not a rhythm yet, not a pace. Not really. Just quick, firm pushes to ease Kaoru into it. It could be called a mercy, if he weren't so deliberate about it. ]
Gorgeous. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen. [ Kojiro's hand tightens in Kaoru's hair, just enough to get his attention, to hold his gaze. ]
[That would probably sound a lot more convincing if it weren't bitten out between moans. But he's in no state to be worrying about that right now. It makes him feel crazy, seeing Kojiro like this. Burning inside with a fire that Kaoru wants licking his skin, scorching through to his core. He can taste it in each firm thrust that lights up his nerves from the inside out. It's in the sweet pull at his scalp. In everything he wants so much more than he should. He's supposed to be the rational one, damn it! And yet he keeps contradicting himself:]
If you do any damage to my hair, I will kill you in your sleep.
[But even as he says it he tips his head back into Kojiro's grip, and rolls his hips with a deliberate determination that sends him gasping for air.]
[ Kojiro tugs, gently, a firm handful right at the roots to tease at the threat. There are some boundaries he's pushing against here, testing the threshold of acceptability, twisting knots into a few assumed notions he'd kept about Kaoru. But more than that, he's always wanted to do this; ached to bury himself so deeply into Kaoru in so many ways. Through his hair, into his body, under his skin, and right up against his last fucking nerve.
After all, doesn't he want Kaoru crazy for him? Sense, reason, logic; they don't need it here. Kaoru doesn't need it here, and that's the whole point of this. To get him out of his own head. There's safety in Kojiro's arms, and Kaoru's loved beyond anything he's ever known. It's okay to just not think for a little while, in the presence of all that adoration. ]
Why would I do a thing like that?
[ Kaoru's tight, searing; a sinful clutch and grasp, and Kojiro could sink into this forever. It's all warring notions of chaos and peace. Taking Kaoru apart sounds every bit as appealing as burying himself deep and staying there, still, just to memorize the sensation. But in the end, Kaoru's pushing against him, and the response is almost instinctive.
Kojiro's grip shifts, drifts down from Kaoru's hair to grasp wide over the back of his neck. It's an anchor, a ballast to steady him against the barrage that comes next. More, harder, faster; Kojiro's cock drives up into Kaoru in firm snaps of his hips, almost a desperate pace. And this isn't gonna last. It can't. Because he's fucking Kaoru, he's looking into Kaoru's eyes, and-- ]
I love you. [ It's deep, breathy, hitched in gasps against Kaoru's mouth. ]
[He really thought he knew Kojiro so well. That there was nothing that could surprise him at this point. But if he'd even tried to imagine that his stupid best friend could be like this, the fantasy surely would have fallen apart before he could have filled in every parameter to run the simulation properly in his mind. Another unfair advantage: Kojiro has had one hell of a head start, and surely that’s why he can say those words like they already belong to him. Like he doesn’t have to test the shape of them on his tongue before they tumble forth.
This Kojiro, the one right here and now who gazes into his eyes with unguarded devotion, who sinks into him again and again like he wants to stay there forever… he wants to line him up next to the Kojiro who flings unimaginative insults at him nearly as often as he uses Kaoru’s actual name. Yes, he could line them up just so, and they’d probably fit together like perfect little puzzle pieces. But they’re so hard to reconcile at the same time.
Kaoru grits his teeth against a high moan, and feels the incongruent bits and pieces build into frustration in his gut. Kojiro, the one he’s always known, is childish and impulsive. He teases Kaoru for his hobbies and his fastidiousness. He forgets the crucial, intricate details of shared memories no matter how many times Kaoru reminds him. Sometimes it all makes Kaoru so mad, he could just—]
I love you too.
[He’s sure he means to add “you fucking moron,” but the words do not come. Maybe this is a mark of growing older. Maybe he’s losing his edge.]
[ The thing about an edge is, there's always a flip side to it; the flat of a blade or the spine of a knife. There's always some space for a sheen, some smoother planes to support the cut. Kaoru can keep all the edge he wants. He can spit venom and acerbic quips, concrete skin and razor tongue. It just gives him -- them -- more facets. Kojiro loves him for all of it, barbs and beauty, poison and perfection. Wouldn't have him any other way.
It's not like Kojiro's guilty of less, and the bickering will never stop. Kaoru hasn't even managed to stop bitching while they're fucking, and that's so ridiculously hot, because-- Shit, now Kojiro's head is full of all the different ways he could shut him up.
I love you is one of the ways, apparently. It's still tripping some kind of short circuit in Kaoru, turning him sweet for a fraction of a second. Fucking and fighting really are ridiculously similar with Kaoru, because Kojiro moves on that moment of weakness, buries his face against Kaoru's shoulder and drags teeth firm down the side of his neck. Mark him up, bruise him more; primitive, mean, but Kaoru is his.
Kojiro keeps his teeth sunk in, wraps an arm around Kaoru's shoulders to pull him along as he falls back against the sheets. It's a tight angle, but Kojiro's thighs aren't just for launching himself off cliff faces. With his heels anchored into the mattress, he can drive up quick and hard into Kaoru, tilted to stroke him inside until he sees stars.
Fuck, he's so fucking close. ]
Gonna come for me again, beautiful? [ A growl through grit teeth against Kaoru's ear. ] C'mon, I wanna see you make that face...
[His voice sounds so ragged to his own ears, moans that are torn to shreds at the sensation of Kojiro’s teeth carving into his skin. He longs to write his own name into Kojiro, too, and raking his fingernails down his chest and arms hardly feels adequate. Kaoru wants to be under his skin like ink, indelible. He wants to stay in his deepest places, the way Kojiro is lighting up Kaoru’s every nerve right now.
When Kojiro pushes up, Kaoru doubles down, grabs messy handfuls of Kojiro’s stupid hair and fights against every renewed wave of pleasure that threatens to pull away the last of his control.]
You… first…!
[It’s a demand. Defiant. Maybe under other circumstances, he would let Kojiro make him come again and again before humouring any request to have anything in return. But here in this moment, the spirit of competition rises in him the way it so often does when he can feel Kojiro close to him. Like hell is he going to let go before he makes Kojiro fall apart. No fucking way. For all the praise, Kaoru still feels like he has something to prove. Something about how good he can really be.]
[ In the end, he can't say what it is. Maybe it's Kaoru's voice gone to tatters, all ribboned demands and ground pleasure. Maybe it's Kaoru clawing him up, drawing welts in his skin, maybe the fists that find his hair when Kojiro's not keeping track of them. Maybe it's Kaoru's body, tighter and hotter and softer than it's ever been, even in Kojiro's most depraved fantasies.
Maybe it's all of it. Every obscene moment, every lascivious detail, all conspiring at once to overwhelm Kojiro. Winds him up, coils harder with each fevered slam of his hips, and then Kaoru snaps -- you first -- and Kojiro shatters.
It rips through him like wildfire, like flying into the sun; burns him up and leaves him ashen in its wake. Kojiro grips Kaoru's shoulder, hips stuttering to a halt when it finally hits him. The cry is sharp, lilting, shuddering along with the rest of him while he spills into Kaoru's body. Over and over, Kaoru's name; in groans, in gasps, in hurried panting, until it fades out to a quiet-- ]
Fuck, Kaoru.
[ And even before he collapses back, boneless and struggling to muster the last dregs of his sanity, Kojiro's hand manages to find Kaoru's cock again. To stroke him out -- stubbornness be thy name -- bring him over again before he'll earn himself a bit of rest.
It's not the last he's getting tonight, but it'll do for now. ]
[It's like nothing Kaoru has ever experienced before. Kojiro's face has always been expressive, but this is the first time Kaoru is seeing it like this, twisted up in pleasure, holding onto Kaoru as if for dear life as he shudders, and Kaoru holds on too--to the feeling of being filled, of taking Kojiro apart with his body, and every rapturous repetition of his own name. It makes him tremble, makes his thighs tense and his toes curl, and Kojiro barely even has to touch him before Kaoru is spilling hot and messy all over his hand. He doesn't even have the strength left in his body to choke back the sharp sobs of pleasure.
It makes him so fucking vulnerable, is the thing, being fucked this well and thoroughly. He really feels like he can't get any strength back into his limbs at all, so he just slumps forward and tucks his face into Kojiro's neck. If he's going to be such an absurdly oversized brute, the least he can do is feel like a solid and safe foundation when Kaoru is feeling small and vulnerable.
Big stupid dope with a bomb-ass dick. Kaoru is never going to let him go as long as he lives. He half-heartedly mumbles as much into Kojiro's skin, and it's muffled beyond comprehension. But he doesn't feel like repeating himself, either, so he just burrows into the warmth even more.]
[ This isn't the first time Kojiro's heard Kaoru totally incoherent. There have been other times. Like back in high school, some wee-hours weekend when they'd had more caffeine than sleep. Or when Kojiro was in Italy, and the time difference often meant their video calls were spent half awake. But this is the first time Kojiro's understood it, fully and completely. Maybe it's only by virtue of the fact that his entire soul is full with the exact same sentiment. Never letting him go. Ever.
Kaoru collapses, and Kojiro's arms wind around him as he falls, thick fingers straying to stroke his hair and cover his back. Vulnerability is safe here. Maybe it's not always, but Kojiro's always been good at recognizing when Kaoru needs him to hold space -- or hold his tongue -- and he's lost for words right now anyway.
What is there to say? When your last, crazy, wild dream suddenly comes true? When you get everything you've ever wanted? When a decade-old hollow ache is suddenly filled out perfectly? Where are the words for that? ]
Thank you.
[ It tumbles out without any conscious effort on his part, and even while he's struggling to catch his breath, Kaoru has never heard Kojiro's voice this warm or this soft. ]
I'm gonna make you so happy you gave me a chance. I promise.
[The gentle touches make Kaoru shiver pleasantly in the aftermath. He basks in the quiet as long as he can--not just the quiet in the room, but the quiet in Kaoru's head in the moments where he's too drunk on endorphins and oxytocin for the usual internal monologue to start up. It's kind of messy and sweaty and that should be gross, but it isn't. Or at least, not in a pressing enough way that Kaoru has to pay it any mind right now. Not yet.
This is a chemical response, logic dictates. It's simple biology that he feels warm and bathed through his skin and nerves with a warm glow, and that Kojiro smells fantastic in a way that cannot be bottled and sold. It's comforting, in a way.
There is no science to piece into a neat frame around Kojiro's gratitude, though, or his promises. But somehow, that's comforting, too.]
[ In that moment, Kojiro's glad for a lot of things. He's glad Kaoru didn't default to anger, that he shelved it for long enough to take off the edge between them. He's glad Kaoru trusted Kojiro with this side of him, that he shoved aside his penchant for overthinking and pushed himself instead into Kojiro's waiting hands. He's glad he's got a mulligan saved with his sous chef, and he can take the entire day with Kaoru tomorrow (if he wants to; they're both busy, and there's a degree of scheduling stickiness that goes along with that).
He's glad Kaoru gave him this chance, period. And he's never gonna take it for granted.
Carefully, mindful of the parting, Kojiro eases himself out of Kaoru, and gropes blindly until he finds a handful of blankets to throw over them both. ]
[Kaoru makes an indistinct sound in the back of his throat, an aborted complaint, and tugs a corner of a blanket tighter around one shoulder.]
I am.
[He doesn't particularly want to think about it right now, though. He's too tired now, his consciousness too fuzzy around the edges from that cocktail of hormones that's still making him feel like something ethereal and transcendent.
But he supposes they'll have to talk about this eventually. Maybe not while shouting at each other. Kojiro said he would make it up to him, didn't he? So if he wants to keep working on that now, Kaoru can make an attempt at obliging. A sleepy one, drained of the usual fire and venom.]
You let him break my heart. I don't understand why.
[ Part of Kojiro -- the reasonable and surprisingly emotionally intelligent part -- wants to argue. That it's not fair to put that on him, that he never let anyone do anything, and how could it possibly be his fault that Adam shattered the heart Kaoru gave him?
Trouble is, that accusation taps right up against Kojiro's greatest regret and biggest insecurity. Kaoru asks Why did you let him?, and Kojiro's guilt screams louder than anything, I shouldn't have. He tries so hard not to replay the scenarios in his mind, but he can still feel Kaoru's tears hot and wild against his shoulder, but he can't help the what-if's. What if he'd just confessed to Kaoru? What if he'd stolen his heart first? What if he'd held him closer, kept him safer? What if he'd flooded Kaoru with all his considerable love from the very start?
How much pain would it have saved them, if Kojiro had just swallowed his fear and been direct about his feelings?
Kojiro heaves a sigh, and pushes a hand over his face. ]
I don't have a good answer. But I'd never just let someone hurt you. If I had any idea--
[ If either of them had any idea, would they have fallen in with Adam in the first place? ]
I tried to tell you so many times, but the words never came out right. They all just-- I tripped myself up, over and over. I thought you knew. I thought you had to know, and you were just ignoring it. And then we met him, and you were totally starstruck.
I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn't with me, I wanted you to have something good. Like here's this rich, handsome, talented, smooth asshole, and he's stealing your heart without even trying, and I couldn't even get you to look at me when I was trying my damnedest.
How was I supposed to get between that? I didn't have any of that. I didn't have anything to offer you but love, and that never seemed like it'd be enough. So I thought, if that's the kind of guy you were into, I could try to be like that. Make something out of myself. Be someone who deserved you.
Kaoru, I never ever wanted him to hurt you. I just wanted you to be happy. And I fucked everything up.
[That's... a lot. It's all a lot. Kaoru plays back maybe a hundred different memories in quick succession in a matter of seconds. He bites his lip, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. Has he been framing this whole thing all wrong? Is he the idiot, for never realising? Because he can think of so many moments where Kojiro saved him, made him feel safe, opened up the world big and bright in front of him... but he can't find anything, not a single detail that felt like Kojiro was anything but perfectly content to remain exactly as they were. Much less anything that felt like an attempted confession.
There's so much he wants to say, but that's the most important sticking point of all. That's where he has to start.]
[ Kojiro huffs, the weakest and bitterest laughter, and his fingertips shift to push in slow circles over Kaoru's scalp. ]
Shut your brain off.
[ Kojiro knows it's not that easy. He doesn't know what it's like to carry the burden of Kaoru's intellect or to shoulder his anxiety. But he's known him long enough to follow the threads of it, to know there are roughly a thousand-odd scenarios Kaoru is parsing and sifting through, struggling to recall even the half- faded memories, and it's all in the service of one question that Kojiro should have seen coming:
What did I miss? ]
This isn't on you. I tried, but the words were just-- I could never find them. Like I'd try to tell you I thought you looked nice, and it'd come out like, "Nice jacket, poindexter." Or you'd be sleeping over, and I'd whisper "I love you" over and over again because I thought I'd get used to it, but then it just stuck in my throat when your eyes were open.
I had it all rehearsed. I said it to myself over and over again, everything I'd tell you when I finally confessed. And then you'd bump my shoulder or laugh with me, and I just thought-- I dunno. That it was enough. That I could just love you and let it be, because you didn't need more drama. But--
[ Kojiro pauses to press a kiss against Kaoru's brow. ]
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should've just told you.
I'm never gonna let that happen again. I have the words now, and I'm gonna say them 'til you're sick of hearing them. I'm never gonna let you doubt that I love you. And I'm gonna keep trying my best, every day, to be the kind of man you deserve.
[No, no, of course he can’t shut his brain off that easily. Not right now. But maybe the next best thing is being struck absolutely dumb by the image of Kojiro struggling that much for words, or whispering his secrets into the darkness. He’s always made it seem so easy to live life on feeling and impulse and sometimes too much casual boldness. But even for Kojiro, there are things he can’t say. Or, couldn’t say, anyway. Because the way he lets it all come spilling out now seems way too easy again, and Kaoru feels like he might really cry. Not just because he doesn’t know how to say all those things himself, but also out of relief. Happiness. His chest aches but he’s so, so happy.]
I never knew. I never thought— god, it didn’t even seem like a possibility. So I just…
[Moved on? No, not really. It could hardly be called that when he kept himself permanently glued to Kojiro’s side all the same. But he accepted to the extent that he could that Kojiro would have some new girl hanging off his arm all too often, and maybe Kaoru would find some equivalent someday, but they’d still be together. He’d even been able to convince himself that it would all be simple for a time. While it was all mostly theoretical, anyway.]
I thought maybe you’d be relieved that I found someone. Because I wouldn’t have to rely on you as much all the time.
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beefyspaghetti) wrote2021-05-08 06:09 pm
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He's vaguely aware that his legs are trembling like crazy. Some part of his mind is trying to remember how to feel embarrassed about that, pinned in place by the heat of Kojiro's gaze and no longer able to hold back the moans that keep spilling from his throat. Embarrassment has slid off to somewhere he can't quite reach it, though, and that is a whole other kind of bliss. He wants more, wants total oblivion. So he bucks his hips up desperately in search of it.]
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Kojiro's mouth makes an absolutely obscene sound when he pulls Kaoru's cock free of it. Just for a few moments, just long enough to lean over to his bedside table and single-handedly fumble his way through spilling some lube into his palm. Then he's right back to task, right back between Kaoru's thighs, with the addition of slick fingers pressing beneath Kaoru to tease at his entrance. ]
How we feeling, beautiful?
[ Nice of Kojiro to check in, at least. Or make the effort. It's a miracle he manages that much, because Kaoru's hole is tight against his fingertips, and there's an impending promise of driving him so much farther out of his mind that Kojiro can't resist. He doesn't give Kaoru a chance to respond; half a breath later, he's devouring Kaoru's cock again in earnest, hot and wet and back to that same driving pace, just as his forefinger sinks slowly into Kaoru's body. ]
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Or so he thinks, until he feels Kojiro's fingers there. Choked, frantic moans follow the initial sharp gasp, so he has no idea how Kojiro expects him to respond to that question with anything besides half-formed syllables that are almost a string of expletives.
And then he's surrounded by wet heat again, relentless, all the more overwhelming for the momentary break and the added sensation of being slowly pressed open—
The orgasm hits him so suddenly he doesn't have a chance for so much as a word of warning, and with such force that he feels almost as if he's left his body. He can't even tell if he's really saying Kojiro's name, or just shaping his lips around it again and again through each shuddering breath.]
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It's a hell of an upward trajectory, because he swears he's had the carbon-copy same thought at least a hundred times over tonight. But this is something entirely different. Staring up at Kaoru from between his legs, watching him come apart, seeing all those tightly-bound threads unravel 'til he can't even find his words; composure lost, because of Kojiro. And now he's silently praying to every deity he knows the name for, pleading to find some shred of patience left within himself. Because Kaoru's flooding him just as surely as he's spilling into Kojiro's mouth, and Kojiro's drinking him all down -- literally and figuratively -- and it's really too fucking much. ]
Fuck, Kaoru. [ He murmurs against the inside of Kaoru's thigh. ] You--
[ Kaoru's on his back before Kojiro can elaborate. He can taste himself when Kojiro captures his lips again, feel the weight of Kojiro's cock hard and heavy against his hip, and then the careful pressure of a second finger slipping into him. ]
Always wanted to see you like that. [ It's almost a growl against Kaoru's mouth, strained with lust and gravid with sincerity. ] Wanna see you like that over and over.
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You're getting greedy. I want to see you too, you know.
[It's hypocrisy of the highest order, but he doesn't care. His own greed drives him to kiss Kojiro like they're running out of time, like tasting his mouth is the last memory he'll ever be able to make. Kaoru will get what he wants, because he (nearly) always does. Because he won't rest until he's sure he's the best Kojiro has ever had.]
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[ Kojiro's always been selfless. Not that he ever thinks of himself that way, but no one can argue that Kojiro provides. He gives. He lets people take and take from him, and he never asks for anything in return. So maybe he's allowed to be a little greedy, just with this. He'll bully more and more pleasure into Kaoru, just to see that beautiful face when he falls apart, and he'll do it unrepenting. He deserves that much.
But Kaoru's not wrong either. He gets what he wants, and to that end, being Kojiro's lover will be absolute hell on his self control. He'll have everything he wants and so much more, no questions asked. Kojiro might give him more than he can rightly handle.
Case in point, there is no reason for Kojiro to move his fingerpads so directly within Kaoru, no sense in such an unmerciful attack, no kindness in overwhelming Kaoru when he's still recovering from his last end. But here he is, working Kaoru open on two fingers that haven't stopped stroking those raw nerves since they first pushed into him. And all the while, that smile never leaves his face. ]
Need your help with this part, sweetheart.
[ Kojiro gets an arm under Kaoru's shoulders, then uses the leverage to switch their places. With Kaoru over him -- legs splayed over his hips -- it'll be easier. Easier for Kojiro to kick his own pants away, easier withdraw from Kaoru's body and thoroughly cover himself with the remaining lube, easier to press the thick head of his cock to Kaoru's entrance instead. But from there, he stills, and he waits. Bated breath, aching to bury in deep, but restraining that need for Kaoru's sake. ]
You decide when. Go slow. Get yourself on. And lemme know when you're ready for me to move.
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There’s not even room for him to remember to resist or complain when Kojiro is manhandling him like he’s some kind of weightless ragdoll, again. He’ll have to find the appropriate anger for that later, when he isn’t so preoccupied with Kojiro pressed hard and slick against him. Almost definitely too soon—Kaoru’s legs still feel weak, like one false move will leave him trembling out of control again—but defiance and curiosity team up to make him start to press down almost immediately anyway.
He hardly has to move for all of the air to be knocked out of his lungs. The stretch is searing and sweet, and makes his toes curl uselessly as he tries and fails to force his body to move even an inch further.]
Shit…!
[He bites his lip, braces his hands on Kojiro’s shoulders to try to centre himself. This big, stupid body that does nothing but draw in a never-ending stream of girls, with their soft faces and red-painted lips. But now it’s Kaoru smoothing his palms over so much sunkissed skin, mapping out the swells of hard muscle. And he’s going to keep it that way. He just has to remember how to breathe.
In, out. Until his body is accustomed enough to the burn that he can coax his legs out of being locked in place. Slowly, slowly, he eases himself down on Kojiro’s cock. Keeps himself breathing, even though it comes out shuddering and harsh. Past the point where Kojiro’s fingers took him apart, until he’s fully seated and filled impossibly full and deep. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes. Ecstasy crackles through his nerves. He tenses and relaxes once, twice, three times. Trying to get used to the sensation overload, but also deliberately teasing as best as he can right now.]
Give me ten… no, five seconds. Then you can move.
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Focus on Kaoru's command. On the countdown, on the numbers. That's all he has to do. Not the breath that's ripped from his lungs the moment Kaoru's body parts for him. Not the helpless moan he stifles when Kaoru seats himself completely. Not the stutter in his hips when Kaoru shudders around him, clenches and pulls, so tight he's seeing stars and so hot he's going mad.
None of that. The numbers.
Four... Three...
Five seconds can't be enough, but Kojiro knows better than to question Kaoru's judgement. He won't. He can't. Not when self-control is monopolizing every misfiring end of his last fucking nerve. His hands cover Kaoru's where they've spread over his chest, fingers curl beneath his palms. Grounding. Breathe, baby, he whispers, and then gasps in a slow breath himself.
Two...
So close, so close, so fucking close. The numbers. Two. So close... Two pale knees bracketing his hips. Two hands spreading fire over his skin. So fucking close... Two eyes, stricken; liquid gold to melt straight through him.
One.
Kojiro surges forward, hooks a hand behind Kaoru's neck, and crushes their lips together again. It's all teeth and tongue. He consumes Kaoru, devours him, thoroughly eviscerates him with a kiss. Maybe that'll be enough to anchor Kaoru against the first careful, firm push of Kojiro's hips. ]
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The numbers are comforting, in this moment teetering on the edge. One last hold on familiarity before Kaoru inevitably takes on more than he can comfortably handle. Again. Deliberately. But Kojiro is here with him. It’ll be okay.
He pulls as much air into his lungs as he can, and it’s a good thing too, because in the next moment Kojiro crashes into him and drags him under like a tidal wave. His cries have nowhere to go, stifled against that bruising kiss. It’s definitely too much. Sensory overload, sweet pain hitting so deep that in the moment, Kaoru is convinced he’ll never stop feeling it. He isn’t even aware of his fingernails scraping down Kojiro’s chest, nor the tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Too much, too much… and he only wants more.]
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He can't help it. Kaoru's too pretty like this, all muffled cries and choked tears. And if it were anyone else in the world, Kojiro would slam on the breaks. But he knows Kaoru too well for that. He knows that hurt -- real hurt -- doesn't look like this, and that his own instincts wouldn't allow a hurt like that to happen. So as much as Kaoru wants more, Kojiro wants to give it to him; wants to overwhelm him completely, wants to turn him out, wants to leave his mark so thoroughly that Kaoru will never settle for anything (anyone) less again. ]
Look at you. [ It's practically a growl as Kojiro's cock eases, and then plunges deep. ] Never seen that face on you before.
[ Again, his hips piston, again he fills Kaoru. It's not a rhythm yet, not a pace. Not really. Just quick, firm pushes to ease Kaoru into it. It could be called a mercy, if he weren't so deliberate about it. ]
Gorgeous. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen. [ Kojiro's hand tightens in Kaoru's hair, just enough to get his attention, to hold his gaze. ]
You gonna show me more?
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[That would probably sound a lot more convincing if it weren't bitten out between moans. But he's in no state to be worrying about that right now. It makes him feel crazy, seeing Kojiro like this. Burning inside with a fire that Kaoru wants licking his skin, scorching through to his core. He can taste it in each firm thrust that lights up his nerves from the inside out. It's in the sweet pull at his scalp. In everything he wants so much more than he should. He's supposed to be the rational one, damn it! And yet he keeps contradicting himself:]
If you do any damage to my hair, I will kill you in your sleep.
[But even as he says it he tips his head back into Kojiro's grip, and rolls his hips with a deliberate determination that sends him gasping for air.]
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[ Kojiro tugs, gently, a firm handful right at the roots to tease at the threat. There are some boundaries he's pushing against here, testing the threshold of acceptability, twisting knots into a few assumed notions he'd kept about Kaoru. But more than that, he's always wanted to do this; ached to bury himself so deeply into Kaoru in so many ways. Through his hair, into his body, under his skin, and right up against his last fucking nerve.
After all, doesn't he want Kaoru crazy for him? Sense, reason, logic; they don't need it here. Kaoru doesn't need it here, and that's the whole point of this. To get him out of his own head. There's safety in Kojiro's arms, and Kaoru's loved beyond anything he's ever known. It's okay to just not think for a little while, in the presence of all that adoration. ]
Why would I do a thing like that?
[ Kaoru's tight, searing; a sinful clutch and grasp, and Kojiro could sink into this forever. It's all warring notions of chaos and peace. Taking Kaoru apart sounds every bit as appealing as burying himself deep and staying there, still, just to memorize the sensation. But in the end, Kaoru's pushing against him, and the response is almost instinctive.
Kojiro's grip shifts, drifts down from Kaoru's hair to grasp wide over the back of his neck. It's an anchor, a ballast to steady him against the barrage that comes next. More, harder, faster; Kojiro's cock drives up into Kaoru in firm snaps of his hips, almost a desperate pace. And this isn't gonna last. It can't. Because he's fucking Kaoru, he's looking into Kaoru's eyes, and-- ]
I love you. [ It's deep, breathy, hitched in gasps against Kaoru's mouth. ]
I love you, Kaoru.
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This Kojiro, the one right here and now who gazes into his eyes with unguarded devotion, who sinks into him again and again like he wants to stay there forever… he wants to line him up next to the Kojiro who flings unimaginative insults at him nearly as often as he uses Kaoru’s actual name. Yes, he could line them up just so, and they’d probably fit together like perfect little puzzle pieces. But they’re so hard to reconcile at the same time.
Kaoru grits his teeth against a high moan, and feels the incongruent bits and pieces build into frustration in his gut. Kojiro, the one he’s always known, is childish and impulsive. He teases Kaoru for his hobbies and his fastidiousness. He forgets the crucial, intricate details of shared memories no matter how many times Kaoru reminds him. Sometimes it all makes Kaoru so mad, he could just—]
I love you too.
[He’s sure he means to add “you fucking moron,” but the words do not come. Maybe this is a mark of growing older. Maybe he’s losing his edge.]
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It's not like Kojiro's guilty of less, and the bickering will never stop. Kaoru hasn't even managed to stop bitching while they're fucking, and that's so ridiculously hot, because-- Shit, now Kojiro's head is full of all the different ways he could shut him up.
I love you is one of the ways, apparently. It's still tripping some kind of short circuit in Kaoru, turning him sweet for a fraction of a second. Fucking and fighting really are ridiculously similar with Kaoru, because Kojiro moves on that moment of weakness, buries his face against Kaoru's shoulder and drags teeth firm down the side of his neck. Mark him up, bruise him more; primitive, mean, but Kaoru is his.
Kojiro keeps his teeth sunk in, wraps an arm around Kaoru's shoulders to pull him along as he falls back against the sheets. It's a tight angle, but Kojiro's thighs aren't just for launching himself off cliff faces. With his heels anchored into the mattress, he can drive up quick and hard into Kaoru, tilted to stroke him inside until he sees stars.
Fuck, he's so fucking close. ]
Gonna come for me again, beautiful? [ A growl through grit teeth against Kaoru's ear. ] C'mon, I wanna see you make that face...
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When Kojiro pushes up, Kaoru doubles down, grabs messy handfuls of Kojiro’s stupid hair and fights against every renewed wave of pleasure that threatens to pull away the last of his control.]
You… first…!
[It’s a demand. Defiant. Maybe under other circumstances, he would let Kojiro make him come again and again before humouring any request to have anything in return. But here in this moment, the spirit of competition rises in him the way it so often does when he can feel Kojiro close to him. Like hell is he going to let go before he makes Kojiro fall apart. No fucking way. For all the praise, Kaoru still feels like he has something to prove. Something about how good he can really be.]
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Maybe it's all of it. Every obscene moment, every lascivious detail, all conspiring at once to overwhelm Kojiro. Winds him up, coils harder with each fevered slam of his hips, and then Kaoru snaps -- you first -- and Kojiro shatters.
It rips through him like wildfire, like flying into the sun; burns him up and leaves him ashen in its wake. Kojiro grips Kaoru's shoulder, hips stuttering to a halt when it finally hits him. The cry is sharp, lilting, shuddering along with the rest of him while he spills into Kaoru's body. Over and over, Kaoru's name; in groans, in gasps, in hurried panting, until it fades out to a quiet-- ]
Fuck, Kaoru.
[ And even before he collapses back, boneless and struggling to muster the last dregs of his sanity, Kojiro's hand manages to find Kaoru's cock again. To stroke him out -- stubbornness be thy name -- bring him over again before he'll earn himself a bit of rest.
It's not the last he's getting tonight, but it'll do for now. ]
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It makes him so fucking vulnerable, is the thing, being fucked this well and thoroughly. He really feels like he can't get any strength back into his limbs at all, so he just slumps forward and tucks his face into Kojiro's neck. If he's going to be such an absurdly oversized brute, the least he can do is feel like a solid and safe foundation when Kaoru is feeling small and vulnerable.
Big stupid dope with a bomb-ass dick. Kaoru is never going to let him go as long as he lives. He half-heartedly mumbles as much into Kojiro's skin, and it's muffled beyond comprehension. But he doesn't feel like repeating himself, either, so he just burrows into the warmth even more.]
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Kaoru collapses, and Kojiro's arms wind around him as he falls, thick fingers straying to stroke his hair and cover his back. Vulnerability is safe here. Maybe it's not always, but Kojiro's always been good at recognizing when Kaoru needs him to hold space -- or hold his tongue -- and he's lost for words right now anyway.
What is there to say? When your last, crazy, wild dream suddenly comes true? When you get everything you've ever wanted? When a decade-old hollow ache is suddenly filled out perfectly? Where are the words for that? ]
Thank you.
[ It tumbles out without any conscious effort on his part, and even while he's struggling to catch his breath, Kaoru has never heard Kojiro's voice this warm or this soft. ]
I'm gonna make you so happy you gave me a chance. I promise.
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This is a chemical response, logic dictates. It's simple biology that he feels warm and bathed through his skin and nerves with a warm glow, and that Kojiro smells fantastic in a way that cannot be bottled and sold. It's comforting, in a way.
There is no science to piece into a neat frame around Kojiro's gratitude, though, or his promises. But somehow, that's comforting, too.]
You're off to a promising start.
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[ In that moment, Kojiro's glad for a lot of things. He's glad Kaoru didn't default to anger, that he shelved it for long enough to take off the edge between them. He's glad Kaoru trusted Kojiro with this side of him, that he shoved aside his penchant for overthinking and pushed himself instead into Kojiro's waiting hands. He's glad he's got a mulligan saved with his sous chef, and he can take the entire day with Kaoru tomorrow (if he wants to; they're both busy, and there's a degree of scheduling stickiness that goes along with that).
He's glad Kaoru gave him this chance, period. And he's never gonna take it for granted.
Carefully, mindful of the parting, Kojiro eases himself out of Kaoru, and gropes blindly until he finds a handful of blankets to throw over them both. ]
You're allowed to be angry now, if you want.
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I am.
[He doesn't particularly want to think about it right now, though. He's too tired now, his consciousness too fuzzy around the edges from that cocktail of hormones that's still making him feel like something ethereal and transcendent.
But he supposes they'll have to talk about this eventually. Maybe not while shouting at each other. Kojiro said he would make it up to him, didn't he? So if he wants to keep working on that now, Kaoru can make an attempt at obliging. A sleepy one, drained of the usual fire and venom.]
You let him break my heart. I don't understand why.
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Trouble is, that accusation taps right up against Kojiro's greatest regret and biggest insecurity. Kaoru asks Why did you let him?, and Kojiro's guilt screams louder than anything, I shouldn't have. He tries so hard not to replay the scenarios in his mind, but he can still feel Kaoru's tears hot and wild against his shoulder, but he can't help the what-if's. What if he'd just confessed to Kaoru? What if he'd stolen his heart first? What if he'd held him closer, kept him safer? What if he'd flooded Kaoru with all his considerable love from the very start?
How much pain would it have saved them, if Kojiro had just swallowed his fear and been direct about his feelings?
Kojiro heaves a sigh, and pushes a hand over his face. ]
I don't have a good answer. But I'd never just let someone hurt you. If I had any idea--
[ If either of them had any idea, would they have fallen in with Adam in the first place? ]
I tried to tell you so many times, but the words never came out right. They all just-- I tripped myself up, over and over. I thought you knew. I thought you had to know, and you were just ignoring it. And then we met him, and you were totally starstruck.
I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn't with me, I wanted you to have something good. Like here's this rich, handsome, talented, smooth asshole, and he's stealing your heart without even trying, and I couldn't even get you to look at me when I was trying my damnedest.
How was I supposed to get between that? I didn't have any of that. I didn't have anything to offer you but love, and that never seemed like it'd be enough. So I thought, if that's the kind of guy you were into, I could try to be like that. Make something out of myself. Be someone who deserved you.
Kaoru, I never ever wanted him to hurt you. I just wanted you to be happy. And I fucked everything up.
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[That's... a lot. It's all a lot. Kaoru plays back maybe a hundred different memories in quick succession in a matter of seconds. He bites his lip, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. Has he been framing this whole thing all wrong? Is he the idiot, for never realising? Because he can think of so many moments where Kojiro saved him, made him feel safe, opened up the world big and bright in front of him... but he can't find anything, not a single detail that felt like Kojiro was anything but perfectly content to remain exactly as they were. Much less anything that felt like an attempted confession.
There's so much he wants to say, but that's the most important sticking point of all. That's where he has to start.]
You tried to tell me? When? What did you say?
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Shut your brain off.
[ Kojiro knows it's not that easy. He doesn't know what it's like to carry the burden of Kaoru's intellect or to shoulder his anxiety. But he's known him long enough to follow the threads of it, to know there are roughly a thousand-odd scenarios Kaoru is parsing and sifting through, struggling to recall even the half- faded memories, and it's all in the service of one question that Kojiro should have seen coming:
What did I miss? ]
This isn't on you. I tried, but the words were just-- I could never find them. Like I'd try to tell you I thought you looked nice, and it'd come out like, "Nice jacket, poindexter." Or you'd be sleeping over, and I'd whisper "I love you" over and over again because I thought I'd get used to it, but then it just stuck in my throat when your eyes were open.
I had it all rehearsed. I said it to myself over and over again, everything I'd tell you when I finally confessed. And then you'd bump my shoulder or laugh with me, and I just thought-- I dunno. That it was enough. That I could just love you and let it be, because you didn't need more drama. But--
[ Kojiro pauses to press a kiss against Kaoru's brow. ]
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should've just told you.
I'm never gonna let that happen again. I have the words now, and I'm gonna say them 'til you're sick of hearing them. I'm never gonna let you doubt that I love you. And I'm gonna keep trying my best, every day, to be the kind of man you deserve.
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I never knew. I never thought— god, it didn’t even seem like a possibility. So I just…
[Moved on? No, not really. It could hardly be called that when he kept himself permanently glued to Kojiro’s side all the same. But he accepted to the extent that he could that Kojiro would have some new girl hanging off his arm all too often, and maybe Kaoru would find some equivalent someday, but they’d still be together. He’d even been able to convince himself that it would all be simple for a time. While it was all mostly theoretical, anyway.]
I thought maybe you’d be relieved that I found someone. Because I wouldn’t have to rely on you as much all the time.
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this can probably be the bow on this thread, if you're good with that