Eijun moves like liquid. Strong hands following the seams of Kazuya’s sleeves, fingers ghosting against the skin on his neck and playing with the tips of his hair. There’s something beautiful in the way he leans in, almost like a crash. Eager and embarrassed and desperate. Something beautiful in the way he breathes against Kazuya’s mouth, a long sigh he hides behind a kiss. Sweet press of lips that make Kazuya close his eyes.
“I want to make you feel good,” Eijun whispers in the silent room, the rustling of clothes and bedsheets so quiet it’s nothing but white noise.
Kazuya sneaks a hand under a red t-shirt, thumb finding strong ribs and following the lines in-between. Humming, thoughtful. He steals another kiss just because he can, a little wet sound that echoes on naked walls and lodges itself into their minds like a prelude of sorts.
This is always how it starts. Building intimacy from scratch, putting away the issues and bad memories, and just focusing on the present. Right now, right this instant. Warmth and security and the slow burning feeling at the pit of their stomachs.
“What is it with you today,” Kazuya snickers as Eijun nuzzles his cheek. Giggles that turn to gasps as an unrelenting tongue parts his lips and dips in for a taste.
Eijun’s mouth is made of glory, made of sin. Made to drink Kazuya’s moans like wine.
“I just—,” he breathes. His full mouth like fire on Kazuya’s lips, on his cheek, over his pulse point. Licking, biting, sucking. “I saw you at practice today and...” Hands that push him down slowly, Kazuya’s back hitting the bed and a warm—so, so warm—body crawling on top of him.
There’s something beautiful in the way Eijun’s hips fit perfectly between Kazuya’s thighs, too.
“And?” he prompts, knees tickling Eijun’s sides. Hands on messy hair and heat pooling low in his belly when Eijun buckles against him.
The bed creaks when Eijun moves to ruck up Kazuya’s shirt. His pretty lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest, wet sounds that make Kazuya hard in his pants. There’s soft humming, there’s a daring tongue against a nipple, hands that keep his hips from arching up, stealing away his control.
This is something Eijun does, probably without noticing. It’s the most wonderful feeling, being appreciated. Being cherished. Love and affection and emotions that would make Kazuya gag under normal circumstances. Except like this. Never like this, with feather-light kisses seeping through his pores, with red cheeks and shiny eyes looking down at him with such fondness.
Eijun goes back to his mouth and Kazuya parts his lips instantly, breathing faltering as that wicked tongue fucks slowly into him, nice and wet and perfect.
“Would you, uh, turn around?” Eijun stutters when the kiss breaks, voice hoarse and ears bright. Kazuya biting on his lower lip, vision dark around the edges from lust and anticipation. Eijun’s mouth is glossy and red, eyes lidded with unaltered need. “I want—,” he starts. He’s not good with words. He has never been. But it doesn’t matter because he’s sincere and honest, and his body speaks the truth like the gospel.
And so Kazuya, with all his issues and all his shields, obeys. He obeys because he trusts him. Because he’d follow those eyes to the end of the world and back. And he should be frightened, he should be scared, but he craves this feeling, this need to belong. This warm sensation that spreads through his chest every time Eijun looks at him.
He sits up, kneels on the bed and takes off his glasses. Takes off his shirt. Takes off Eijun’s, too, leaning forward hungrily, smirk in place. He licks those freckled collarbones and rakes his teeth against a nipple. A suck here, a suck there, all that delicious skin soft under his tongue and Eijun’s heart beating fast against his mouth.
Strong hands fall from his hair to his hips. A sweet, "Can I," whispered against his neck as blunt, short nails rake over his lower back. Kazuya smiles, a gentle nod that makes Eijun move, fingers turning him around. Helping him lie on his stomach, cheek against the pillow. He settles over Kazuya’s body and nuzzles his hair with affection, pressing kisses like prayers. Kisses like fire. Kisses like promises.
And Eijun never breaks his promises.
Kazuya laughs when those lips trail down his neck, over his shoulder blades. Eijun licks at his skin, his hands stroking his sides, callused fingers tickling under his ribs. An open mouth over each knob in his spine, tongue tracing the bone slowly, circling it delicately. Pretty full lips that make Kazuya melt into the sheets, rubbing against the mattress to turn the pleasure up a notch.
Eijun undulates above him, pure fire burning him alive. Hands finally reaching the hem of his sweatpants, knees on either side of Kazuya’s hips. And he can feel how hard Eijun already is, obvious bulge against his ass. He’s aware of what he wants to do to him, the mere thought making his skin break out in goose bumps because Eijun can get so creative when he wants to.
Rough thumbs remove his pants, teeth biting the skin of his lower back and Kazuya gasps, hands clawing at the pillowcase.
“Is this okay?” Eijun asks again, lips murmuring against Kazuya’s flesh, tongue tasting the hard muscle.
Kazuya risks a glance over his shoulder, finding burning gold and cherry red. He arches a little off the bed, his ass rubbing against Eijun’s chin, distracting him long enough for Kazuya to bite back the whine at the tip of his tongue.
“Sure,” he says, pretending the idea isn’t turning him on. Pretending like he isn’t this close to begging. “Do you want me to—” he starts, shifting his hips, trying to lift them.
Eijun grabs them and keeps them down, though, shaking his head and licking the corner of his lips. “No, I—like this,” he gasps, kissing a cheek, sucking, biting. Kazuya closing his eyes and burying his fingers in the pillow, an anchor to hold on to.
Sweatpants barely under his ass and mouth open against the sheets, Kazuya breathes in when Eijun’s thumbs slide between his cheeks, soft touches to stir him up. Slow and safe, Eijun mouthing at his skin, not really doing anything but worshipping every curve, every plane. His breathing wet and hot over Kazuya, fingers against him, rubbing but not going in.
“You—looked so good today,” Eijun moans against him, spreading him slowly, tongue sliding down his cleft and making him wet, quick licks that send a bolt of electricity up Kazuya’s spine. His jaw falls open and he buries his forehead in the pillow, full lips and slippery tongue keeping him on edge.
Those callused hands get a hold of his thighs and long fingers press against the muscle to keep him still. Vulnerable. Filthy noises falling from Eijun’s mouth every time he licks, every time he sucks, saliva trailing between Kazuya’s legs, thumbs spreading it all over, pressing against his perineum and—
“Kazuya,” Eijun groans, voice low and feral. His index finger circles him, not quite pushing in, but not staying put either, tongue following suit.
He can’t help it when he reaches back and grabs a fistful of messy hair, urging him farther, deeper. He can’t help every moan, every sharp intake of breath when Eijun complies, supple tongue and nimble fingers keying him up.
“Just keep—” he grits out, voice coming out strangled. A whine, a plea. Eijun is nice enough not to push him for more, not to break him. Such a nice, sweet boy. Such a good boy as he pushes his tongue inside Kazuya without a warning, wet and slow, moaning into him, Kazuya’s back arching like a bow and legs shaking against his will.
In and out, tongue moving to the rhythm of Eijun’s jaw. To the rhythm of his humming. Pretty wet noises falling from his mouth like a nice chorus to Kazuya’s moans, to his sobs. Face hidden in the pillow as Eijun eats him out so lovely, so eagerly. Those full lips probably red, full lips Kazuya will have to see on the mound tomorrow, shouting at him, telling him to hurry up, to get ready. Full lips that will talk to him while he tries to forget where they were. Where they are, bringing Kazuya undone like a ragdoll.
“Yeah,” he moans, pillowcase wet under his mouth. “Yeah, like that. So good.”
His dick is pressed uselessly against the mattress, and he wants to touch himself so bad. So bad, especially when Eijun has a thumb over his perineum, a tongue inside of him, a hand kneading his ass.
It happens out of the blue. Eijun leans back, gasping for air. Kazuya’s face still buried in the pillow, making a mess of the case with spit and sweat . Eijun leans back and Kazuya tries to regain control, his muscles shaking against his sheets, twitching and spasming. He wriggles, dick seeking as much friction as possible, moan escaping his lips.
It happens out of the blue. Eijun says, “Keep still, senpai,” and when Kazuya dares another thrust against the sheets, Eijun’s palm comes down, slapping him in the ass.
Kazuya isn’t expecting his own reaction.
The cry that leaves his throat is hoarse and high. A sobbed, “Oh, fuck” emphasized by the way his dick drips underneath him. Electricity spreading from the pit of his stomach to the tip of his fingers, skin hot and burning.
Time stops for a second, the world coming to a halt. Kazuya’s eyes wide, but unseeing. And then—and then—
His teeth let go of the pillow and he finds himself saying, “Harder”. Whines desperately, swallowing around a dry throat, Eijun gasping behind him. “Harder, please”.
Long fingers and a callused palm come down on him like a whip, pitching arm putting all of its strength behind the blow. Kazuya sobs, fire tingling on his cheeks. Making his hair stand on end. So sweet, so good. His own breathing out of control. And so he breaks, he breaks, ass going up in the air, wet and abused and about to get even better.
“One more,” he asks, pleads, begs. Eijun’s fingernails raking over his own handprints. A moment’s hesitation and then another slap. Hard. So hard. Loud smacking sound that makes Kazuya arch his spine, tears at the corners of his eyes.
It feels so good.
“You like this,” Eijun whispers in awe. His open palm finding Kazuya’s ass once again, striking him one, two, three times in quick succession. “Oh god, you like this.” He sounds mesmerized, enthralled. And if Kazuya could think straight he would risk a glance over his shoulder. But Kazuya can’t think. Kazuya can’t speak, voice hoarse, dick wet, skin on fire. He buries his fingers in the sheets and waits for more. Anything, everything. And Eijun is such a good boy, such a sweet boy because he delivers.
A slap, a squeeze, a sudden lick. Eijun’s right hand spreading him open, his left coming down relentlessly. Falling hard and heavy on Kazuya every time, making him sob and whine. Turning him into a mess, control taken off from him and leaving him naked and vulnerable.
Yes, Eijun always delivers.
“You could come like this,” a voice says against his lower back, sinful tongue tracing the dip of his spine. It’s not a question, Eijun is not asking. He already knows, and so does Kazuya.
Another blow, skin tingling and cries echoing on the walls.
“Yeah,” he manages, voice hitching with every strike of Eijun’s hand. Tears so close to falling. So good he can’t take it. “Yeah, I could,” he says, about to break down and babble, about to beg and cry. “I could, but I want—”
One last slap interrupts his words, but it doesn’t matter because Eijun is leaning forward, his chest against Kazuya’s back. Saying,”I know”. Saying, “Pass me the lube,” with such confidence Kazuya would laugh if he weren’t so turned on. Instead he obeys, arms reaching out for the bedside table, fingers twitching and nails digging in the wood when callused palms rub against his tender skin. When a tongue soothes the tingling sensation and teeth bite right above his ass, leaving a mark there.
Kazuya whimpers, hand fumbling with the drawer, fingers fumbling with the bottle, lungs fumbling with his breathing. He’ll never know how he manages to pass the lube and a whole strip of condoms to Eijun, or how Eijun manages to catch them with how busy he is, fucking Kazuya with his tongue in slow motions. Curling inside, licking him whole.
A hard squeeze over his abused skin and Kazuya is lifting his hips as far as they’ll go, spreading his legs wider, the elastic hem of his sweatpants digging uncomfortably under his ass.
“God, you are so eager,” Eijun gasps in awe, the sound of a cap opening making Kazuya shake with anticipation.
There’s a promise hidden in the way Eijun fingers him, a promise for more, a promise for everything. He starts with his middle finger really slowly, a teasing touch. He then rotates his wrist, lubing Kazuya up, nice and easy. He kisses his skin as he patiently slides another finger in. Never wanting to hurt because that’s Sawamura Eijun to you, a sweet boy with golden fingers and golden eyes and a golden heart.
Kazuya buries his head in the pillow, hips up, mouth open, and he just takes it. Slippery fingers stretching him, curling, sliding in and out. A hoarse moan rolling from his lips as they press against his prostate. A high whine that catches on the pillow when a warm tongue plays with the rim, threatening to go in as well.
Eijun’s right hand pulls down his sweatpants, finds his dick. He plays with the wet—fuck, so wet—tip for a couple of minutes, just as he adds a third finger, a little bit of tongue. Making a mess of Kazuya.
“I’m ready,” he tries to say, throat dry and not really working. Heat building up inside of him, warming every muscle, every cell. Eijun giving away pleasure so freely Kazuya can’t keep up. “Fuck, I’m ready, Eijun.”
All movement stops, fingers slipping out of him, ass suddenly cold.
“Okay,” Eijun says, voice wrecked and Kazuya can’t help it when he glances over his shoulder, and through squinting eyes sees flustered cheeks and freckled chest painted red. Eijun is hard and heavy in his own pants and it probably hurts at this point. Stupid boy always putting Kazuya first. Always first, getting off on seeing him come undone. Greedy and selfless at the same time, the contradiction that is Sawamura Eijun. Kazuya wants to turn around and ravish him, eat him up. Leave him breathless and crying with how good it feels... But not today. No. Not today, because Eijun has promised him so many things, so much pleasure, and Kazuya needs to see this to the end.
He tries to get on all fours, arms shaking a little, but strong hands stop him. Eijun covers his body and gives him a tiny kiss behind his ear. He says, “No.” Says, “Like this.” Kisses him again and adds, “We’ll change later, okay?”
Kazuya cranes his neck and kisses his really red, really swollen lips, Eijun’s hands guiding him back against the bed, setting over him and taking away his leverage, his control. It’s like feeling owned, and Kazuya has never been owned by anyone before.
He pushes the pillow out of the way and cushions his face in his forearms. Eijun moves for a while behind him, the sound of a foil package being torn open, his shaky sigh when he rolls the condom on. Knees on either side of Kazuya’s ass, thumbs spreading him open and a hard, slippery pressure sliding in slowly.
This way Kazuya can’t go anywhere. He just lies there and takes it, breathing stuttering as Eijun fills him up, hard and hot and perfect.
“You okay?” Eijun asks when he’s in, taking one of Kazuya’s hands and lacing their fingers. For an impatient brat, this boy has quite the self-control when he wants to.
Kazuya sighs slowly, nods. Fingers closing hard against Eijun’s. Smile tugging at his mouth when he feels a tiny kiss pressed to the top of his head.
The first thrust is a test, emptiness and then fullness. Kazuya moaning weakly against his forearm, Eijun humming pleasantly above him. The second thrust is to set the rhythm, a slow tempo that is not fast enough for what Kazuya needs, but that is exactly what Eijun wants. Slow, powerful thrusts that go deep, claiming Kazuya bit by bit, making him melt. Making him come undone.
Eijun can contort in so many different positions. He always gives Kazuya the best of shows, the way his body can curl and stretch when they have sex. They way in which he submits willingly, making Kazuya moan and think about how much he doesn’t deserve those golden eyes. But sometimes—sometimes Eijun also needs to own him, sometimes he needs to show Kazuya how much he wants him. How much he needs Kazuya to trust him, to let him take the lead. He’s a little selfish, greedy boy, taking what he wants when he wants. And Kazuya can’t say no.
If there’s anyone he wants to belong to, that’s Sawamura Eijun.
“You feel so good,” Eijun sighs into his ear, a hand by Kazuya’s shoulder, pinning him down, holding him still. Kazuya bites his lips raw with every thrust, tip hitting deep inside, hips slapping against his red cheeks. His mouth does fall open when Eijun finds his prostate, broken moans rolling off his tongue like prayers, sobbing noises to the tempo of Eijun’s hard thrusts, the slap of their skin, the harsh rasp of their breathing. It makes Kazuya burn so hot, so bright. Sharp teeth finding his neck and biting long enough to make him whimper, but not hard enough to leave a mark because what would the team think. What would they say if they saw them like this.
“Eijun,” he sobs. “Eijun, I need—”
His dick is wet against the sheets, wet and neglected and hard. He wants to come, he needs to come. Pleasure slowly verging on the wrong side of painful.
Everything changes in the blink of an eye. Eijun slips out of him, his hands trailing down Kazuya’s back like liquid fire, setting on his hips. Urging him up and yes, yes. Finally. He can’t really get on all fours with how hard his arms are shaking, so he props up in his elbows instead, raising his hips and locking his knees in place. Ass in the air, head tilted to the side, trying to catch a blurry glimpse of molten gold.
Eijun is staring at him in awe, tongue against his lips. Sweaty and red. So delectable Kazuya wants to eat him whole.
“Is this okay?” he asks, long fingers curling around Kazuya’s hips. He presses against him, hard and heavy. Not going in until Kazuya says so. Always respecting him.
“Yes,” he says.
And then he stops talking, voice too busy moaning and sobbing. The hard slap of Eijun’s body against his making the world dark around the edges. Sweat dripping down his cheeks, pooling in the dip of his spine. Eijun’s breathless gasps and wandering fingers setting him ablaze.
“God, Kazuya—you look so good,” Eijun moans brokenly.
And Kazuya knows what Eijun’s seeing. He has seen it so many times before, skin bouncing against his hip bones, the hard line of wide, freckled shoulders before him. Eijun sweet and warm and tight around him. Pretty moans falling from pretty lips as he praises the boy underneath him. His own personal heaven.
Hearing those words from Eijun’s lips make him desperate.
He sneaks a hand between his legs, trying to match the rhythm of Eijun’s thrusts as the boy complies, sliding in so hard the bed creaks. Little mewling noises escaping Kazuya’s mouth, pleasure building up in his belly and slowly starting to uncoil. He closes his eyes and pictures the face Eijun makes as he comes, eyes shining and voice pleading. He loses himself in the little moans falling from Eijun’s mouth right now. In the warm feeling of safety, of being wanted. Loved.
“I’m so close,” he whispers, throat raw.
And so Eijun speeds up with a grunt, hips undulating against him. Strong and hard and deep. Hands pushing and pulling Kazuya’s body to meet his thrusts, so beautiful the way in which they are in sync with each other.
The world turning bright, turning black, turning white.
And suddenly a palm comes down hard on Kazuya’s ass. The slap burning on his skin, Eijun moaning when Kazuya tightens around him, when he lets go of his dick to claw desperately at the sheets. Biting on his arm to muffle a scream when Eijun slaps him again. And again. Dick harder with every strike, wetter. Another slap and Kazuya can’t stop the cries and the tears and the overwhelming sensation urging him to let go.
He comes untouched, sobbing into the sheets. Breathing stuck in his lungs when Eijun says, “Yeah, yeah that’s it,” around a moan. He comes untouched, not really expecting to have his orgasm drawn out of him like this, rough and infinite. Leaving him shaking and whining and so, so sensitive that Eijun’s last thrusts almost make him black out. He comes untouched, actual tears mixing with his sweat as he trembles and buries his face in the mattress.
His head is up in the clouds, body deliciously tired. He’s sore and exhausted and so satisfied he can’t even move. He feels Eijun’s erratic thrusts as he finishes, touching him as little as possible so as not to hurt him. Always so thoughtful.
Such a sweet boy.
Eijun comes with a sob, his hips pressing against Kazuya’s ass as he goes through it. Long fingers curling around bruised hips. He probably looks beautiful, and if Kazuya were able to move, he would glance over his shoulder to see the way Eijun seems so open and unguarded, face relaxed. Serene.
The room is mostly silent afterwards, ragged breathing and minor rustling like a lullaby. Intimacy and safety mixing with the smell of sex and the taste of sweat.
There’s a tiny press of lips on his shoulder and Kazuya turns his head to see a blushing Eijun looking at him.
“Are you, uh, okay?”
He looks so earnest, so worried, Kazuya can’t help but laugh. Hoarse snicker escaping his lips and tired hand pushing Eijun’s hair out of his eyes. They boy blinks, blushing harder, beautiful eyes looking everywhere but at Kazuya.
“I’m fine, nerd,” he says, making space on the bed and opening his arms. An invitation, another one of their promises. Eijun slides right in, snuggling against his chest, not even caring about how sweaty they are, about the wet spot under them or about the uncomfortable feeling of fingers slick with lube.
There’s a tiny kiss against his collarbone and Kazuya rolls his eyes, arms closing around wide shoulders. Eijun murmurs something unintelligible against his skin, voice embarrassed and childish.
Kazuya lifts a leg over Eijun’s hips and drops his dead weight on him, making the boy squirm.
“What was that?” he asks, evil smile on his lips.
Eijun fights against his body, trying to break free. Pushing tiredly against Kazuya to get him out of the way. Huffing and puffing, lips in a beautiful pout. Kazuya laughs again, unable to keep the fondness off it. He steals a kiss, a loud smacking sound in the room. He steals another one for good measure after Eijun gags, noses rubbing together.
“What was that?” he asks again, an intimate whisper.
“I just said that—,” he mumbles. “I didn’t know you were such a big pervert”.
And as soon as he says that, he leers.
Eijun moves like liquid. Strong hands following the line of Kazuya’s spine, fingers ghosting against the skin of his neck and playing with the tips of his hair. There’s something beautiful in the way he leans in, almost like a crash. Bursting into Kazuya’s life with loud accusations and even louder confessions. Giving him pleasure and affection and kisses on the chin.
There’s something beautiful in the way he loves him, too.
“Am I now,” Kazuya deadpans.
Molten gold shines bright under him.
Kazuya drops his whole weight on this stupid nerd of his.