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"So. One weekend just you and me, right? That means junk food, action movies, and maybe some kissing?" Reki grins as he wraps his arms around Langa's middle, the latter having to turn enough to almost strain his neck, just so he doesn't miss the sweet expression.

 

"Not exactly."

 

"Huh?" Reki's eyes widen in surprise, and isn't that beautiful? Exactly what Langa wanted. To surprise his boyfriend. And this is only the beginning.

 

"We’re going to do … kind of similar things. But not that." Usually, it's Reki who calls the shots between them, at least outside of 'S' and the bedroom. But this weekend, Langa comes prepared to steal the reins. "Let's go home first, okay?"

 

Home.

 

Home is the house his mother bought when they moved to Japan two years ago. Back when Langa stuffed his entire life into boxes and left everything he knew to find some sort of new beginning. Well, it worked out for him. He found a lot more.

 

Langa turns his head again and, behind him, Reki nods. After all, what else could he do when Langa makes a decision? Well, he could whine or protest or nag or one of the hundred other things Reki does to express himself, but … he probably knows this is important to Langa, so he nods and relaxes back into the seat.

 

The drive is calm. Even though they like the rush of wind in their hair when they’re on their boards, neither of them plans to endanger others with a similar driving style. Okay, maybe that's a little influenced by the two-hour lecture Shadow gave them when he found out how both of them drove, but whatever. They’re completely new people.

 

So it takes them a moment to reach the Hasegawa residence, but neither of them really mind because they’ve got each other. Reki loves reminding him of that. Langa loves hearing it. Once the bike is parked, they climb off, unclasp their skateboards, and turn to one another.

 

"What now?"

 

"We go in." Langa pulls the key from his pants pockets and dangles it in front of Reki's face. After a second, he retracts his hand and goes to unlock the door. "As you know, my mom is on a business trip, so we have the entire weekend just for us."

 

Reki gives him that grin, that special one, the one that gets them in trouble and heals all their wounds at the same time. "Yes. I'm very aware, thank you." Somehow, he manages to make it sound genuine, not sarcastic. Maybe because he's giddy. "Are we going to order in?"

 

"No."

 

This time, Reki groans. "Whyyyyyy?" He can be such a whiny baby. But Langa is into it, really into it, so he pulls Reki inside and presses him against the hallway closet.

 

"Because I say so." A smirk, and Reki melts in his arms. He becomes a big pile of goo, vaguely shaped like a human. After all, it's not a secret how much Reki enjoys being taken care of, spoiled, and at the same time, challenged.

 

"Then … what else?"

 

"I want to cook with you."

 

Reki's smile freezes, and he tilts his head. "Cook? Langa, I'm not a cooking enthusiast … and I'm not saying no if you really want to do it, but … I'm not sure I'll be much help."

 

He hums and sits down to untie Reki's laces. Obviously his boyfriend can do it on his own, but Langa being there for him for the big and small things means a lot, so Langa makes sure to do exactly that.

 

Once they are relieved of everything that won't be part of their perfect weekend, both men walk into the kitchen together.

 

"You actually plan to cook?" 

 

"Together, yes." Reki gives him one of his special smiles, and Langa is reminded why he does all this. Why he does anything at all. "Is that okay?"

 

"Depends." Reki follows him like a lost puppy and smiles when Langa reaches out to stop his wandering in favor of a hug. "Are we making beavertails?" Ah yeah. Of course he would ask that. Langa sighs. Beavertails are a Canadian food he made during his first days in Japan when he was a little homesick. Back then he shared the terribly sweet treat with his friends and Reki hasn't been the same since. "I waaaaaaant beavertaaaaaails. Pleaaaaaaase?”

 

Damn, he is doing this thing again. The thing with his eyes when they turn into giant planes of sparkly night skies. How is Langa supposed to say no to that? That's why Reki is so spoiled in the first place. Besides, the dough is already prepared and sitting in the fridge, just waiting to be deep-fried. But he won't let his beloved boyfriend know just yet. Not immediately, at least.

 

"No beavertails. Beavertails are dessert. Besides, you have to eat something that isn't just fried sugar and dough from time to time."

 

Reki sticks out his tongue again, obviously hoping either for attention or a kiss to 'silence' him. But Langa gives him neither, so Reki continues his protests. "You're not exactly a shining example here, mister 'unhealthy, large portions of food'."

 

"I'm growing!"

 

"Where?" Langa growls, but it's just playing. He's already a good bit taller than Reki anyway. "So what are we making?" 

 

“Split pea soup, peameal bacon, and poutine.”

 

Reki’s eyes are round, staring up at Langa, before moving to the clock above the fridge. “Isn’t that … a lot?”

 

Langa hums. “Mmm, maybe. But don’t worry, you’ll help me chop and stir, and I’ll handle the rest.” He finishes with a peck to Reki’s forehead.

 

His boyfriend still looks a bit nervous but when Langa starts laying out the ingredients for the soup and giving him instructions, he seems to settle into his assistant role with no problems. And the fact that Langa kisses him after he finishes chopping each vegetable most likely helps.

 

“Now what?”

 

“Now we saute.” Sizzling fills the air as the onion and celery hit the hot pot where the oil is waiting. Langa doesn’t take his eyes away from the veggies until they are done and adds the garlic. “Reki, can you pass me the broth and water?” Instead of waiting for his reward, Reki stands on his tiptoes and kisses Langa’s cheek. The smack in his ear would be obnoxious if it were anyone else—or in public. But here, in the privacy of his home, Langa allows himself to relax and enjoy the presence of his boyfriend. Reki is such a social butterfly whenever they go out that maybe, just maybe, he likes having Reki’s attention solely on him.

 

They add the split peas and herbs, and Langa entrusts Reki with the task of adding the salt and pepper. The man swallows thickly. “But what if I add too much?”

 

“Then it’ll be salty or too strong,” Langa replies honestly, making Reki groan.

 

Reki’s distressed expression is too much. “Dude!”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re not supposed to say that!” There's a clear hint of mock-insult, so Langa hums. He’s trying very hard not to laugh. “You’re supposed to be, I don’t know, reassuring?”

 

“... But that’s what happens.” Langa is aware he’s being obtuse. He can’t help it, though. Reki is so easily riled up.

 

His boyfriend, still unsure, adds just a tiny bit of each ingredient into the mixture before Langa carefully drops the ham bone in. Once it boils, he lowers the heat to a simmer and covers the pot. Reki blinks at him when he returns with more ingredients, including a large piece of meat. “Wait, that’s it? Soup’s done?”

 

“For now at least. We gotta wait about an hour for the ham to be tender. So, in the meantime, I thought we could make poutine and eat some ham?” He puts the food on the counter and circles his arms around his partner for a moment.

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Poutine. Another dish we often eat in Canada." 

 

"That’s what you always order at the burger place. Is it good?" Reki's head falls back onto Langa's shoulder. 

 

He shakes his head and moves so Reki can see his face, a grim expression in place. "No, baby. It tastes like shit. That's why we’re making it."

 

For a second, Reki just stares, then he begins to laugh and elbows Langa almost too enthusiastically. "Okay so … what do we do?"

 

“Peel the potatoes and I’ll cut them. I already made the gravy.”

 

Reki nods, a hint of a smile on his face as he goes about his new task, humming the pop song that played at Dope Sketch earlier. It’s so damn domestic. This is exactly what Langa pictured when he planned for today. His mother’s knowing look when he gave her that endless list of food was definitely worth it. And all she asked was for some leftovers in return.

 

They work mostly in silence, except for the occasional question from Reki, and soon they are removing the ham from the soup before adding the carrots. “Okay, can you slice the ham while I fry?”

 

“Sure!” The sizzling returns, and the kitchen is filled with the unhealthy yet delicious scent of fried potatoes. With the first batch done and the second one already in, Langa stabs a steaming fry with a fork, blowing on it to cool it. A second later, Reki turns—probably to ask for his reward—but Langa feeds him instead. “Mmm, that’s good! I’m so hungry already.”

 

“Are you now?” Langa’s eyes probably betray him, dropping to stare at Reki’s plump, shiny mouth for a second too long because a cheeky smile takes over his boyfriend’s expression.

 

His tongue appears briefly, flickering over his lips in something that could be a tease or completely unintentional, and Langa is parched. “Starving, actually.”

 

And what is he supposed to do? Oblige, obviously. Reki is too perfect to say no to, wild and calm and loud and quiet, all at the same time, and Langa now realizes how close they were this entire time without actually getting to touch. Which should be illegal, so he has to do something about it now.

 

Without further words, he backs Reki against the counter and his lover goes willingly. He always does. Reki is constantly craving affection, cuddles and kisses. Well, and intimate touches, but those aren't a necessity. All he wants is to get attention and that works out fine because Langa can't look away from those perfect eyes, full lips, and blushy cheeks.

 

So he keeps pushing until Reki jumps onto the counter and opens his legs. Langa steps between them and reaches for his hips to pull him closer. Always closer. Distance between them hurts them both.

 

Langa leans forward and Reki follows his example, until they meet in the middle. Tender. Gentle. But also hungry. So things don't stay careful for too long. Reki reaches up and clasps his hands behind Langa's neck, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't pull away. 

 

But obviously, Langa never intended to. His thumbs brush little circles into the fabric over Reki's hips, then travel further, reach around him, so he can grab plump flesh and—

 

"Eeeeew." Reki pulls away and turns his head to stare at the food. "SHIT. I think we burned it."

 

"Well. We have been quite distracted—"

 

"Langaaaaaa."

 

"What?"

 

"The earlier we finish dinner …" Reki bites his lip and gives him what he probably considers an innocent look. But Langa has seen it often enough. Nothing about this is innocent. It's about expectations, hopes, dreams, and it stirs more than the happy rumble in his guts when—

 

"Langaaaaaa. Let me down. The fries!" 

 

Oh. Shit. Yes. 

 

Langa throws the burnt mess away, as well as the oil. With a sigh and a quick kiss, they return to the food. But Langa can’t keep his hands off Reki. He finds any excuse to touch his cheek, his hair, his arms as they pass plates and utensils.

 

It's all so romantic, yes, but also kind of sensual. Langa loving food isn't exactly news, but Reki and food and the prospect of just having two days to enjoy one another … pure bliss. So who can blame him for wanting to be close to his lover? For wanting to make the most of it?

 

At last, Reki returns the sliced ham to the soup, while Langa adds the gravy and cheese to the fries. Soon, they are sitting at the coffee table, shoulder to shoulder, taking turns griddling the peameal bacon Langa spent four days preparing on the tabletop stove. Reki’s constant stream of praise, whether it’s about Langa’s skating or cooking or anything else he does, warms him more than the steam from all the dishes.

 

He watches his partner more than the food, really, because Langa loves to eat, but what he loves even more is to share that passion with his other greatest love—his boyfriend. However, sitting side by side on the floor isn’t the most comfortable for Langa, even with the throw pillows underneath, so he enacts a plan. His wandering hands reach for Reki and pull him close.

 

"We can eat on the sofa, if you want."

 

"Your mom would never allow that." 

 

"My mom isn't here." 

 

“Okay, but how will we eat then? We can’t cook the bacon from the sofa?”

 

Reki has a point. "Okay, fine. What if we …" Langa stands, grabs some of the larger and smaller pillows from the sofa, and tosses them onto the floor. "There. Now we can sit closer to the coffee table and still be comfortable?"

 

"YES." Reki is on the floor and between his legs before Langa can really understand what's going on. Not that he could complain. He would never. He has his Reki and food and—and they can watch a movie!

 

Langa leans back against the sofa and pulls Reki even tighter. "I want to watch that terrible romcom you recently screamed about." Reki's nose does this cute thing where it scrunches up and crinkles. He acts as if he's disgusted, but … Langa knows. He knows his lover wanted to watch it for a while and doesn't dare to say so because … well, no idea. Maybe he thinks it's unmanly or something. Langa doesn't really want to think too much about the possibilities here. All he cares about is Reki being happy.

 

If that means acting like he wishes to see this stuff? He will. Oh, Langa will. But he'll make it fun for himself, too. Which means …

 

"I'm going to feed you."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I'm going to feed you. While we watch."

 

For a moment, Reki looks like he might protest or tell him he can eat on his own. But then, he smiles and cuddles back into their embrace. "I'm not a child."

 

Langa hums and pulls Reki closer. "And here I thought you're my baby." Sappy. So sappy. Neither of them would be caught dead using words like these in public, but here, alone, when it's just them, the food, and the TV? Now this is something Langa is allowed—no, encouraged—to say.

 

Reki reacts as predicted. He groans and hides his face in his hands. The patches of skin Langa can see thanks to the glow coming from the TV are bright red. Without another word, he picks up his chopsticks and a plate with the bacon they were cooking just a minute ago. In retrospect, this is a bit unnecessary and more complicated than he expected, but he’s content. Reki seems to be comfortable despite his embarrassment. Which is pretty cute. 

 

Maybe Langa should embarrass him more often, just to see him smile and hide like he did earlier. His Reki. His usually so loud and bold Reki, hiding behind his hands and smiling through the gaps of his fingers. Langa's heart picks up and it's all his boyfriend's fault.

 

The movie is terrible. It's just as sappy as they expect and borders on unwatchable with the way they keep dripping sweet nothings into each other's ears, but— but—from time to time, Reki forgets to hide how delighted he is. So Langa endures. Obviously it's working, obviously it fills his lover with joy. And that was his plan for the entire weekend. To spoil and pamper Reki and to be there for him the same way Reki is always there for Langa himself. 

 

His first board? Reki. 

His first job? Reki. 

His first friend in this strange land? Reki. 

His first boyfriend? 

 

Langa leans forward and captures bacon-greasy lips. "I love you." And yes, that is another first belonging to the squealing mess between his legs.

 

They get distracted easily, and the soup goes stone cold on the table. But it’s okay. They devoured the oily, unhealthy food first. The veggies can survive in the fridge one more day. Right this second, though, Langa’s mind is focused on his boyfriend and him alone. So his hands wander down a strong jaw … only to stop on Reki's neck. “Baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself like this.”

 

“Eh?” So eloquent. Langa smiles and drops one more kiss to Reki’s lips before gently pushing him away so they can stand and rearrange the cushions.

 

It's more of a nest than anything else that they form on the sofa, and Reki's eyes betray how excited he is. Langa settles into the cushions again and pulls his lover in, this time into an even closer cuddle. There's not much space on the sofa, their feet even dangle off the end. "I want to feel you." Hands brush over fabric, push and pull, a little desperate to reach what's beneath, and at the same time, savoring the touches themselves.

 

Reki giggles, his sweet little noises are muffled by lips on lips, kiss over kiss pressing into willing skin. Langa prepared the dough for beavertails, yes, but this dessert is so much sweeter. He rolls onto his back when his shoulders start to ache from the confined space, but Reki doesn't mind. He follows willingly, easily, and instead straddles his boyfriend.

 

And oh god, he's a picture-perfect man the way he sits there, flushed, grinning, excited, and so soft, so easy to please, so grateful, so … god. So perfect.

 

When his father died, Langa lost all he knew. The stability of his family, his home, his school, his friends, his snowboarding. But this perfect human right here, grinning wide even though his cheeks are ablaze with crimson, gave him all he had and patched Langa's broken heart back up. Piece by piece, little by little, until he was whole again.

 

It took Langa a while to understand what happened. That Reki saved him, in many more ways than just the obvious ones. But when he confessed, eyes wet with fear and lips bitten red with worry, Langa understood. He's as much Reki's everything as Reki is his. They are pieces to the same puzzle and they belong together.

 

Langa swore to do what he could to make it work. So he started consciously making an effort and it changed things between them. Reki, talented, strong, lovely Reki finally started to see what he's worth, not just because Langa told him again and again but because he started to show him.

 

Small things for the love of his life. Picnics, sleepovers, movie nights. Reki, Reki, Reki. By now, Langa understands where his own happiness lies—in the palms of the man currently grinding down on him with gentle hip rolls. And he swore, he swears, he will take care of his lover. So he does. In more ways than one.

 

Langa reaches carefully, steadies Reki's moving hips just for a moment, and pulls him down into a kiss. And because Reki is Reki and he's as enthusiastic as a puppy, there's almost immediately tongue, open mouths, panting. But this isn't what Langa planned, so he eases Reki back, just a nudge. "Are you so desperate to be my dessert?"

 

He expects red cheeks and the tender nod, but the wide smile that follows is new. Just like the bravery in Reki's voice. "I want to be your everything."

 

"You are." Langa breathes the words more than anything as he tries to sit up without his vision turning red, or white or grey or black from whatever is keeping his heart so excited. Reki, his Reki.

 

He works them both into gentle kisses and careful touches. Langa doesn't want this to be rushed. He wants this to be soft. Tender. Appreciating. 

 

So he decides to reaffirm Reki even more. "You are my everything. Which is why I want to take care of you. Will you let me?" A strange question, really, but who cares? Not Langa. Not as long as the answer is 'yes'.

 

He's so lucky. Not only is the most beautiful soul in the most attractive body currently resting on top of him—no, he's also nodding. Slowly. Almost hesitantly. Usually, Reki is the one taking care of everyone else. But today he deserves to be pampered.

 

Langa sits up and kisses a tan collar bone, then the point where shoulder and neck melt into one another. His fingers trace Reki's jaw in a mirror of his lips ghosting upwards. "I love you."

 

He receives a tender smile, a soft kiss, and words that make his heart leap, even now, months after hearing them for the first time. "I love you, too."

 

It's enough to make Langa twitchy again. With careful fingers, he pulls up Reki's shirt. What he finds underneath is familiar. Old bruises, some from the pavement, some from Langa's lips, and lots and lots of soft skin.

 

"Come." He nudges Reki to get up. "There's something else I want to do."

 

"Something else," Reki echoes and he nods.

 

"Yes. Get up. I have a plan." Others would probably misunderstand his tone, but Reki … Reki and he are in sync. So all his lover does is nod.

 

"Should I put my shirt back o—" 

 

"No. Stay the way you are. Just like that." His hands find Reki's middle and squeeze, but then Langa applies the smallest bit of pressure, so his partner will get up. "Come on, baby." And there's more of that sweet, delicious blush Langa doesn't know how to handle without almost becoming a squealing mess himself. He doesn't show his excitement as openly as Reki, isn't as expressive, but that doesn't mean it's not there.

 

Once his lover stands, Langa takes a warm hand and pulls until the exposed skin of Reki's chest touches his own front. One more kiss, feather-light and full of promises, before Langa turns and stalks off. Reki follows him blindly, as he should. He doesn't question why Langa takes him into the bathroom. Instead, he waits and looks around. Which is cute as fuck because it's far from his first time in here, but somehow, it does have the spark of something new.

 

"Undress." The energy jerking Reki into a straightened posture rushes through Langa, too. So he tries again. "Fold your clothes." Reki stares at him with plate-sized eyes, full of wonder. But then, his brain seems to catch up and he obediently follows along.

 

Socks first, the absolute lunatic. Then his pants, before Reki stretches. He waits until Langa is obviously watching, then peels himself out of the tight boxer shorts. Slowly. It would be easy to call it teasing, but the way he stumbles from leg to leg, the way his hands shake … proof that he's just incredibly excited.

 

Langa turns on the taps and water starts filling the tub, the steam fogging up the mirror in no time. There isn’t enough space for the two of them but that’s not exactly what Langa has in mind. When the water reaches around three quarters of the tub, he turns off the taps and offers his hand to Reki, who wraps his arms around Langa’s neck. His state of undress doesn’t seem to be of any concern.

 

“Will you join me?” His eyes are lidded, and Langa can feel exactly how excited Reki is. It takes all of his self-control not to indulge his lover, not to forget about this and push his body against the door of the bathroom. But no. Tonight is about going slow, enjoying their time together, and taking care of one of the most important people to him.

 

So he shakes his head. “Nope.” A whine. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you here all alone.” Langa kisses Reki’s pout and helps him into the warm water before taking off his own shirt and folding it alongside his boyfriend’s. He hesitates for a second before peeling off his jeans, too. Are his hands shaking? Huh. They’ve shared showers before and they aren’t strangers to each other’s bodies, but this feels more … intimate?

 

When Langa turns, though, the image that greets him settles his heart and transforms the nervous beating into a happy rhythm. Reki is all stretched out—or as much as he can be in the confined space.

 

"You look comfortable." Langa steps closer and settles next to the tub. 

 

"You look hot." Reki gives him one of those cheeky, beautiful, smug smiles. "Are you sure you don't want to come in?" 

 

"Mmmhmmm. Told you. This is for you. But I'm here, baby." Langa reaches forward and cups Reki's face. His thumb trails little patterns into the warm skin, without a doubt heated from the bath and maybe some excitement. 

 

"And you'll just sit there?" 

 

"No. I'll also wash you." 

 

Reki groans, letting his head loll back. "For real?" He's whiny already. Other people would probably interpret his noises as distress or maybe even annoyance, but … Langa knows this is an entirely different situation. He gets horny when he's being pampered. And the way Langa washes his back makes Reki all twitchy. Beautiful. 

 

For a while, he works in silence. Langa takes a lot of time washing every bit of his favorite person. The water is infused with oil, but that doesn't stop him from applying more to the wash rag. It's all so tender. Sweet. If Reki were in a different mindset right now, he'd call it a dozen different things that all mean 'sappy' and 'silly'. But instead, his eyes are hazy, glossed over and filled with what is hopefully happiness. 

 

"I love you." They sound like a broken record today, but it's true. Langa can't help repeating it again and again, and Reki deserves to hear it, anyway. 

 

Another whine from the bathtub, fluttering lashes and a soft smile. "I love you, too."

 

After that, they spend more time in silence, just touching, holding, kissing, admiring. When Langa is sure he’s cleaned every other bit of his partner's body, he reaches into the water and Reki gasps. Did he seriously not expect this? It makes Langa smile, despite the tenderness of the situation. "Relax, baby. I’ve got you."

 

"I know, I … I know." He moans and his head falls back once more. "I just …"

 

"I'm only washing you, my love." And he does. Langa's touch is firm and consistent, but not meant to arouse, only to clean. Of course, that doesn't stop Reki from straining in his hold. He uses a few more strokes than he strictly needs just to not leave his lover without, but eventually, Langa moves on. "Turn."

 

His voice is firm but admiring. It drags another whimper from Reki, before he does as he is told. They both know what comes next, so Reki braces himself against the edge and raises his ass out of the water. His face is magenta-colored and a good bit blotchy, which is weird because they’ve done this dozens of times. But Langa understands. Didn’t he think something similar earlier? So intimate. So … special.

 

"Are you okay with me touching you?"

 

A bubbly laugh from Reki. "A little late for that question, isn't it?" He's joking, Langa knows he is, but he still pulls back.

 

"If you don't want me to—"

 

"No!" Panic mixes into his otherwise comfortable expression and takes over. Not a good look. Reki should be happy and content, after all. So Langa brings his hand back down and rubs his back. It causes Reki to release something that could almost be a purr, and Langa lowers his hand more to cup a full cheek.

 

Damn, those muscles from skating are still fascinating after all this time. It doesn't matter how fit Langa himself is. He doesn't lust after his own body. Just Reki. All he ever wanted was Reki. His hand drops lower, rubs his lover's upper thigh, fingers wandering.

 

"Langaaaaaa …" Reki whines and hides in the crook of his elbow.

 

"Yes, baby?"

 

"Stop teasing!"

 

Oh no. Oh no. He's absolutely not done with that yet. Teasing is half the fun after all. And with an entire weekend ahead … "I can't, baby. You're just too sweet to pass up. I gotta savor my dessert."

 

That earns him a drawn out groan. "Langaaaa!"

 

He hums. "Yes?"

 

"Please …" Reki's voice is more vulnerable now, breaking at the edges thanks to his frustration. Oh, that won't do. Langa's fingers stray closer to their destination with each new circular motion.

 

"Please what?" A whimper, then Reki is pushing his ass higher in the air. Langa is so weak. Without waiting for his lover to say anything else, his index finger finally makes contact with Reki's rim. Another whimper. Langa looks up from his task and leans on the edge of the tub, his mouth next to Reki's head. He bites an earlobe lightly and whispers, "Shh, it's okay, baby. Just a few more minutes and you'll be all ready."

 

Reki turns his head then and catches Langa's lips. While the man beneath his fingertips is usually all fire and passion and rushed, this time he's gentle in his movements. He holds onto Langa's cheek, their mouths staying connected in a languid kiss. It's slow … soft … lovely.

 

All the while, Langa continues caressing Reki. He's barely doing anything, just allowing the water and his fingers to clean the area, just like he promised. But it's enough to get Reki to start shaking again. Langa breaks the kiss to hear all of his lover's appreciative sounds.

 

Whimpers, groans, breathy moans … and they keep increasing in volume as Langa starts applying the slightest bit of pressure. This is the main reason why they can never do anything at Reki's house. Too many innocent ears down the hall. They can only get away with it if Reki's mouth is occupied. But now … they are alone, and Langa wants to take his time to savor all of Reki. He kind of regrets not grabbing the bottle of lube that awaits them in the bedroom. And he still needs to shower himself.

 

Yes, maybe they should hurry up a bit.

 

Without much preamble, Langa's hand disappears from his lover's body and reaches over to remove the plug. Reki looks dazed for a second, but Langa soon covers his shivering body with a fluffy bathrobe.

 

His boyfriend looks like a wet puppy, so Langa kisses Reki's nose and it scrunches up again. Adorable. "Can you dry off while I shower, baby?" Reki nods, his eyes clearing up a little. "I left an extra towel for your hair on top of the washing machine."

 

Langa is about to sit down in front of the showerhead when Reki's hand grabs his wrist. He looks at his boyfriend, confused, when a pair of soft lips capture his own. Despite the excitement, their kiss is still slow, as if the night's overall mood finally rubbed off on Reki. "Thank you." He sighs, content, and Langa's heart flutters in his chest.

 

"Anytime, baby." Langa drops one more kiss against Reki's forehead and the other man goes to the sink area of the bathroom where the washing machine is.

 

Making quick work, Langa is in and out of the shower in record time. Probably only ten minutes have passed by the time he's drying off and wrapping a bathrobe around his own body. He was as thorough as he needed to be, but now … now he's done and he can't wait to get to the final part of their night. 

 

Langa takes his lover's hand and guides him to their bedroom. Or rather, to the door of the bathroom, before he hesitates. He turns back around and squints at the sink. "Let's brush our teeth right now, so we don't have to get up later on." 

 

Next to him, Reki huffs but doesn't protest. "Do you have the sea salt toothpaste?" 

 

"It's disgusting." 

 

"It's not." 

 

"You will go to bed smelling minty fresh, no discussion. I'm not kissing the dead sea." Reki groans, but to his credit, he doesn't continue the discussion and instead picks up his guest toothbrush. Langa shoves the salty one far, far deeper into the cupboard and hands over his preferred brand. "This." Reki sighs, inconvenienced by the loss of a terrible product, but again follows the direct order. Huh. Who would have thought he could be so obedient? So Langa decides to try something. "Good boy." It's more of a joke, more of a throwaway comment than anything else, but Reki's face floods with blood. Shit. Too much? "Sorry, I—" 

 

"No. No, you … uh. It's … Okay." 

 

Oh. Ooooooooh

 

"You like it." 

 

"Kinda." 

 

"You’ve always liked when I’ve complimented you."

 

"Who doesn't like being complimented?" 

 

Langa holds his gaze in the mirror. "That's not what I mean." 

 

"And what do you mean?" He reaches forward and pulls Reki's robe aside, revealing a still very much straining erection. Reki groans and looks away, but Langa's chuckle forces his eyes back. "You like it when I tell you you're good. That I love you. That you matter. And I know you like it here," he taps the side of Reki's skull, "but it's good to know you also like it here." Langa drags his fingers over Reki's chest and down to his stomach, then further until they glide over velvety skin. 

 

Next to him, Reki tugs on the robe until at least half of his face is hidden by the fabric, but nothing can hide how flustered and aroused he is. Not when his dick jumps beneath Langa’s gentle fingers. If Langa wasn’t too affected earlier, he most definitely is now. He rinses his mouth and waits for his boyfriend to do the same, their toothbrushes resting in a plastic cup to the left of the sink.

 

Home.

 

Langa interlaces his fingers with Reki’s, and they walk the short distance to his room down the hall. Leaving his boyfriend by the door, Langa grabs the box of matches he left on top of his dresser and starts lighting the many, many candles resting on any available surface—the nightstand, desk, shelves, even the floor. Once he’s done with that, he returns to Reki’s side. His mouth hangs open, and Langa has to kiss blushy cheeks before he moves to stand behind Reki to wrap arms around his middle.

 

“What do you think?” he whispers next to Reki’s ear. His lover shivers and turns, burying his face in the crook of Langa’s neck. Oh, shit. Is it too much? Is this as cheesy as the romcom they watched during dinner?

 

Reki’s breath tickles as he exhales. “It’s perfect.”

 

Langa sighs in relief. Does he want to push his luck a bit? Everything has been going rather well ... “Mm, you are perfect.” The immediate whine drags a smirk out of Langa. Oh God, is he smug? He's smug. But why wouldn't he be if he's the wizard pulling noises as sweet and soft as those from the depths of Reki Kyan? His Reki. And it's time to remind them both. 

 

Robes drop and Langa makes sure the fluffy material doesn't come in contact with the candles. He's responsible, after all. And Reki is supposed to be free of worry. So yeah, Langa might be a little overly careful right now, but he really doesn't want their perfect night interrupted by a flaming bathrobe.

 

After draping them over his desk chair, Langa gently pushes Reki until the back of his knees hit the mattress. His boyfriend goes down easily and climbs up the bed until his head is resting against the pillows. Langa covers Reki’s body with his own and, in an instant, there are hands in his hair and on his back, bringing him close. Closer still. They don’t always have time or the patience for tender exchanges so Langa intends to make this last as much as possible.

 

"Are you feeling good, pretty boy?" Reki twitches against him, then whimpers a little. Langa will take this as a 'yes'. "Do you want me to take care of you?" This time, Reki nods, but no noise slips out. Which is very interesting. “Remember, you gotta talk to me, okay? It’s just the two of us tonight, no need to be shy.”

 

Reki squirms, giving them both a hint of the delicious friction that will soon drive them insane, before he finally answers. "Please." So simple, yet so telling.

 

"How do you want me?" Again Langa doesn't get a verbal answer, just a lip bite and bright, sparkly eyes. "Baaaabyyyyy." He imitates the tone of Reki's former complaints and that works. His lover is wiggling against him once more, mouth open, gaze almost desperate. "Tell me what you need."

 

"You!" Not even a heartbeat later. "I want you. I need you."

 

Langa can’t help it. He laughs and grabs one of Reki’s hands, kissing the palm, before he pushes it against the pillow next to his lover’s head. And if he puts just the tiniest bit of extra force, well. The flash of lust in Reki’s eyes makes it worth it. “You have me already. I’ll do whatever you want.” Langa knows the answer already. Whenever Reki is pampered, praised, and loved this way, there’s only one thing that will satisfy him. “Want me on my hands and knees, baby?” A tremble and a shake of Reki's head. “Should I ride you, then? That’s always fun.”

 

“Langaaaaaa ...” His voice is so broken already. He’s probably picturing those scenarios but they’re not enough. Langa smirks. Almost there. A quick kiss and then, “Inside!” Reki whines.

 

“Hmm? Want to be inside me?” Langa pushes himself up to look Reki directly in the eyes. Hopefully, his expression doesn’t betray how much fun he’s having. “Sure, let me get—”

 

“No!”

 

"No?"

 

Even as riled up as he is, Reki smacks his shoulder lightly. "No!"

 

"Ah." Langa rolls his muscles, then smiles again. "You want me to suck you off?"

 

From beneath him comes whimpering and whining, slightly stuttered breaths and what sounds like repressed sobs. Reki isn't there yet, but he will be. Soon. "You know exactly what I want."

 

"And you know I need you to say it." That started as a consent thing between them. Langa always ensured Reki was okay with what happened, so he asked for explicit permission. Now though … now it's kind of a part of their game. It gets them both going because from here on, there's no turning back. They spin around each other like ballet dancers, getting lost in each other's eyes.

 

"I need you inside." Reki's eyes are both impossibly wide and tiny. "Please." So Langa hums. He's not cruel. A little playing is fun, but when Reki begs, all his resolve slips, too.

 

"Yeah, baby?"

 

"Yes. Please."

 

"You're so beautiful. Such a good boy." Reki whines even louder. He's actually close to tears now. Maybe lust. Maybe frustration. Maybe fear. Hopefully love. Whatever it is, it makes him raise his arms and wrap them around Langa's neck.

 

He's effectively trapped now, but Langa won't complain. This is good. This is his happy place. Reki stretches and steals needy kisses, bleeding into more, more, more, and Langa remembers overhearing Joe and Cherry talking. 

 

The only thing the older men seemed to agree on was to never confess anything during sex. They put special emphasis on never dropping the L-word, too. But here in his bedroom, with Reki’s warm body responding to his movements so enthusiastically ... Reki’s arms holding onto him like a lifeline, unwilling to let go … Langa can’t stop the stream of words. They flood his system, like pouring rain overflowing a river. Reki echoes the sentiment, matching him, challenging him. Always in sync.

 

And the truth is, it’s not a confession. Not really. They’ve said these three words over and over again. They remind each other every day—with small gestures, soft smiles, and patched-up wounds. It’s reassurance. And love, yes. But so much more, too. A promise.

 

“I love you.” I’m here. I’m not leaving. You’re not going to be left behind. “So much.” It's a forever in small increments.

 

They both seem impatient now, so Langa retrieves the lube and condom he hid underneath the pillow. He coats his fingers and slowly circles Reki’s entrance again, whispering reassuring words against his lover’s lips. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby.”

 

Reki doesn't stop the small noises, but he does help as best as he can. Legs press into the bed next to Langa, and Reki arches his back to chase the comfort. "More …"

 

Poor, demanding, spoiled baby. Langa swirls his fingers and presses into the sensitive skin with slightly more intensity. All the nerve endings there make his lover twitch and groan. Their soundtrack for the night. Or maybe not, maybe they will get a lot louder, a lot more intense. Reki sure as all hell will, which makes Langa smirk.

 

"Sssh, baby. Slowly. Go slow. I don't want to hurt you." He pulls his fingers back just as Reki tries to push himself onto them. Langa knows him so well. "Greedy. My greedy, perfect mess." He chuckles and kisses soft skin and dark bruises along Reki's legs, before he pulls back.

 

Immediately, whining from the bed pulls his attention over. But Langa is determined. He gets them a towel and a comfy pillow that he stuffs under Reki's ass before he returns between his lover's legs. "There we go. Better?" No use, Reki is beyond words now. He just huffs and whines and wiggles his ass. "Soon. Soon, love."

 

Adding a bit more lube, Langa resumes his task, breath puffing next to Reki’s dick as he lowers himself further down his lover's body. When his finger finally breaches, Langa grabs a hold of his boyfriend’s hips and sucks the head of Reki’s dick into his mouth. 

 

“Mmm, Lang- ah!” The wanton moan that spills out is music to his ears. His hypocrisy is too much. Langa thought of Reki as greedy, but he’s just as bad. So weak to those sounds. He wants to hear his name in that wrecked voice again and again and again. So he rewards his Reki by speeding up just the slightest bit, carefully working him open with two fingers.

 

Letting go of his treat, he mumbles, "There we go, baby." God. This shouldn't be so hot, but it is, and Langa doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He would like for this to go faster. But there are multiple reasons why that is a bad idea. For one, he wants Reki to have everything he could possibly need. And on top of that, he also has to make sure his lover doesn't get hurt. Reki is a little whiny mess at this point. So it's up to Langa to ensure his safety. "Good boy. So good for me. I know you really want this, baby, but you have to relax so I can give you what you need."

 

The reminder seems to help at least somewhat; Reki eases around his fingers. And only now does Langa realize just how tense he was before. He pumps his fingers slowly, eyes carefully trained on the pinpricks of tears in the corner of Reki's eyes.

 

It wouldn't be the first time he’s cried during sex. The release is always something that leaves him raw and sensitive. But at all costs, Langa has to avoid it happening because his Reki got hurt. 

 

"How does this feel?" He's fully aware there won't be a verbal answer, but Reki moans and drops his head back, then squeezes around Langa's fingers. Just once. Just to pull him in further. "More?" Langa chuckles softly. "Do you want more, pretty boy?" 

 

And there it is, the first actual sob. Reki gasps, harshly inhaling before a stuttered exhale follows. His eyes are wide again and fully trained on Langa when they aren't hidden by tiny pools of love. 

 

"Do you want me to stop?" Because he has to ask. He has to ensure Reki is comfortable and that he wants this, really wants this.

 

"Please. No." It takes visible effort to express this sentiment of desperation, so Langa doesn't tease him further. " 's so good." Reki's eyes swim once more and the next time he blinks, it flows over. God, he looks so happy. So perfect. 

 

"I’ve got you." A third finger, gently prodding and gladly accepted. "Just a few more moments now." Another sob breaks from Reki as he nods. He's so brave, working through all those feelings and emotions. Langa couldn't be prouder if he tried. His wrist already started to ache a few moments ago, but that doesn't stop him from giving Reki what he needs. 

 

A few more pumps, a few more whines and tears later, Langa pulls his hand back. 

 

And Reki is clever. He knows it has to go for the real deal to take its place, but that doesn't mean he will accept the transition quietly. "Hurry!" The word is hard to make out with how whiny he is. But it's the most perfect thing Langa’s ever heard. 

 

He slips the condom on and pumps himself a few times, applying some more lube to make sure he doesn’t hurt Reki. Then finally, Langa crawls back up, returning to smile at his partner face to face again.

 

"Inside!" Reki sounds like an addict seconds before his next hit.

 

"I’ve got you." He keeps saying it, but it doesn't matter how repetitive it is; Langa means it every time. Their lips lock and for a second, he just holds his lover's shaking body.

 

Then, he lines them both up. Langa checks one last time if there's enough lube, then presses inside in one smooth, but very slow push. And underneath him, Reki gets loud. If Langa thought him to be intense before, this, now, is … a lot.

 

"Aaaah!" Reki's eyebrows draw together, but he keeps his eyes on Langa.

 

"Slower?"

 

"Harder."

 

"I won't risk hurting you."

 

"Want to be one with you." 

 

"You are. You already are." 

 

"More." 

 

He's so fucking cute. Langa groans softly and pulls back. Just a little. Just enough friction to give them both a hint of what's to come, and immediately he's very grateful his mother is gone. Because after all this teasing, Reki doesn't think about holding back anymore. He's reduced to his most basic needs. Food. Water. Shelter. Love. Sex. And Langa took care of all of them. Takes care of them. Of Reki. An ongoing process that will hopefully never end. 

 

"More!" Reki complains, or maybe begs. At this point, it's all the same, bleeding into one another just like they do in the best kind of way. Art, the colors spilled, mixed so they can never be separated again. They paint a new picture with their combined pigments. 

 

"I love you." Not the most poetic reply, but now Langa is holding onto his sanity, too. Though there’s not much left, not with the way Reki continues to clench around him. He sits back, ignoring his partner’s protests for a moment, and pulls almost all the way out. The only warning Langa gives is a slight squeeze to Reki’s hips before he pushes back in, again and again, trying to find the perfect angle. Langa wants to draw every delicious sound out of his Reki. He wants to play him like an instrument, the only one who ever had the chance to, a maestro just in this one craft.

 

The response is different, though. His lover’s mouth falls open in a silent moan. Bingo? He isn’t sure. Reki doesn't protest yet, so just to test his hypothesis, Langa does it again. Between them, Reki twitches. Hard. Okay. This is good. Yeah. Perfect.

 

Langa holds on to his lover's hips and starts using shorter thrusts to figure out where this is going. He has an idea, of course, but this is supposed to be everything Reki could want, so Langa does his best to be horny and considerate.

 

Small movements quickly pick up, pace and depth constantly increasing until finally, finally, Langa buries himself deep with every thrust. And fuck, Reki is so loud, but they are alone, so nothing matters, nothing but them and the feeling between their souls and bodies.

 

He doesn't realize how close he is until Langa can't breathe anymore. Shit. No. This isn't about him! It's about Reki! But his lover doesn't look much better. His face is tinted dark red, skin blotchy enough to trace patterns from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. They are both messes in each other's arms.

 

Reki's voice is tiny and rough when he finally manages to form words. Well, one. A single one. "Please!" The need accumulated during an entire day of teasing and postponing colors his plea. Again. Higher. "Please!"

 

And it's Langa who breaks first. His legs cramp into almost violent stutters when the primal part of his brain does everything possible to drive himself as far into his lover as he can. As if a switch is flipped, Langa becomes the loud one, bending down to press his forehead against his boyfriend, and Reki silently rolls his eyes back, lids fluttering.

 

Fuck.

 

Langa didn't expect the day to have such incredible effects on his body, too, but once the all-consuming pumping sensation between his legs eases, it's as if someone turned off the lights. He's blinded by pleasure, love, affection, respect. Langa can hardly breathe, unwilling to fill his lungs with something that isn't Reki. So his hand blindly swipes between them until it reaches cooling liquid. Ah, yes. At least he wasn't the only one. Even now, Reki and he are perfectly synced.

 

Thank god, that would have been awkward. For a moment, he just lies there, hand pulled back, the soiled fingers carefully held away from their pillow. But when he's done being considerate, Langa simply licks them clean. There.

 

He makes sure to take as much weight off Reki as he can, but there’s no way he will get up now. Not when his legs are jelly and part of his soul just left his body, along with a powerful orgasm. Both of them are all twitching and shivering.

 

Minutes later, Reki seems to come back to it. His face scrunches up, then eases with a low groan, before he seeks out Langa's lips. They kiss, then shift, then kiss more.

 

When Langa rolls off of his lover, finally able to actually move again, they find each other's embrace. Reki covered both their stomachs and Langa is stuck in an uncomfortable condom, but ..  neither care. Instead, they drink each other's kisses and giggles. Tomorrow, they will clean up their mess. Or maybe Sunday because Langa can't promise this won't happen all over again.

 

He smiles into fire-colored eyes, burning bright enough to scorch every part of his soul. Langa is ruined for anyone else. It will only be Reki, only him, forever.

 

"I love you."