Here we are!! We live in a society where publishers brazenly advertise new books as HP ships just to boost sales, never mind the harm being done by the IP's author, and my old reservations about linking this anonymous identity to my public-facing self are pretty much gone. I always wished I could share my original writing with people who ask me about it here, but I was afraid of being targeted for the sins of my past (whatever they happened to be) and didn't think I could take it. That could still happen and I'm sure I'll hate it if so but I also think it would be such a bad use of someone's time it would circle back around to being funny.
So: if you like my work, or just enjoy following me in places, please check out my author instagram or (not active but I keep meaning to use it for stupid little things) bluesky! Nothing of mine has been published, but I have an agent and am working on it. I'd be honored to have your attention! Please interact lots and spot the frogs in my pond every Friday. I'm sure that will make editors open my agent's emails. (Jk... unless?) This week I posted beautiful art @silencedmoment did for my f/f esports romance in a reader's guide and next week I will be posting an amazing trailer @esselle-hq made through god-tier footage finding skills and video wizardry. Please look forward to it!
Just a smol teaser for our upcoming cmv based on @suggestivescribe ’s work, “How Kuroo Found Kenma” :D
A trully fantastic fic, (prequel of Conquering the Great King) which shows the dynamics of friendship and humour between the characters perfectly. Honestly, I learned to appreciate Oikuroo thanks to this 😂
I promise the fic and cmv aren’t as depressing as this teaser looks LOL
OMGGGG THIS MADE MY HEART GROW TEN SIZES. You guys are so handsome/gorgeous/wonderful KuroKens T^T I can’t wait to see more, you did such a good job with the trailer!
This is the greatest compliment guys, thank you forever!!!
This PDF zine contains 32 original pieces of art and writing about space and the infinite universe! Our creators explore the loneliest reaches a ship can sail, the wonders of stars and gods so much larger than us, and that one asteroid cafe you heard had great reviews.
All proceeds will benefit two non-profit charities: Child Crisis AZ and A Place To Call Home (read more about them Here!). Follow our Store Link to see our three pricing options that allow you to choose how much to contribute to donations (plus a few other cool things).
Sales will close May 7th, 2018.
After that, confirmations from both charities will be posted to ensure they’ve received our donation! Please help us help children in need and keep an eye out for updates :D Thank you so much to everyone who participated and supported this project; I couldn’t have done it without you!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I feel so out of my depth surrounded by such amazing people, but that makes me all the more grateful to be a part of it! Please consider--the funds are for a great cause!
If it interests you, how about Kuroken (or any pairing!) trying to pull of a heist at a masquerade or other fancy high-society shindig?
[EYEBALL EMOJIS] you: kuroken or any pairing!me: did you say kuroken and iwaoi??
__________________________________
“I thought that Kenma might complain about being thedamsel again.”
Oikawa shot a disdainful glance across the table. “NoKuroo, you fool, he’s not a base idiot like most men--he knows he’s gorgeous.”
Kuroo looked across the ballroom floor at theperfect beauty in the bright red ball gown. It was large and billowing at thebottom like the stuff in movies about royalty, and embroidered with gorgeousgold all through the top. It matched his hair, now perfectly dyed and done upin a bun with curls falling around his face.
Kuroo leaned on his hand and sighed. “I want to liveunder his dress.”
Oikawa made an undignified noise into his martini.He recovered with a delicate sip and a press of cloth napkin to his mouth.
A rough voice rumbled through the mic in Kuroo’sear. “If you guys could be less wistful and gay and more focused on themulti-million dollar heist we’re attempting to pull off, that’d be great.”
Oikawa craned his neck to look over the railing atIwaizumi. He was standing by the front door, a paid security guard who lookedabsolutely perfect in his station.
“What’s more wistful and gay than getting dressed upwith all your queer friends and attempting to steal jewels from rich assholes?Nothing, Iwa-chan, that’s what.”
There was a burst of static over the mic, probablyfrom the heft of Iwaizumi’s sigh.
“Target is in sight,” Kenma told them, voice far toonear the whispers Kuroo had heard at home, tangled in covers and each other.Goosebumps rippled across his arms.
“My time to shine,” Oikawa said, pushing his chairback with his knees. “Be ready to see the most suave and succinct woo-ing inall of history.”
Iwaizumi spoke into their ears: “I want to be mad,but that’d make this much easier. Do your damnedest.”
“Yes sir,” Oikawa almost sang. He plucked hismartini off the table with graceful fingers and strode toward the stairs. Hetook them one at a time with equal grace and delicacy. Every movement was ashow, and it was a convincing one.
He soon appeared next to Kenma, and they took eachother’s hands and waists for a dance. When they bumped into their target, itwas a believable accident.
“Good, good...” Kuroo said, watching as Oikawa immediatelyengaged in flirtatious conversation.
Iwaizumi made a noise of disgust. “Look at him...grinning... preening... clearly so impressed with himself.”
Kuroo blinked at the them, then slid his focus downto Iwaizumi by the doorway. “I really can’t tell if you’re talking about ourtarget or Oikawa.”
Iwaizumi was frowning across the ballroom. “Neithercan I.”
The target reached forward as he laughed, handhovering around Oikawa’s hips. His fingers fluttered there, and Oikawa leanedinto it.
“After we steal all his shit, I’m going to break hishand.”
“Iwa,” Kuroo chided. “After all this time shouldn’tyou be used to it?”
“Maybe both hands.”
Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle. Meanwhile he wastrapped in thoughts about the curls sliding around Kenma’s neck, tickling thenape and fitting around his ears.
“Kenma,” Kuroo spoke into the mic. He knew Kenmacouldn’t verbally respond, but the way he tipped his head let him know that hewas listening. “When we get home, can you keep the dress on?”
“Kuroo, Christ,” Iwaizumi said.
“I want to lavish your legs like they’re their ownentity. I’ll just be some nebulous force of pleasure in your skirt doingeverything you like.”
“Please stop,” Iwaizumi said more flatly.
“First I’ll start at your inner thighs--that sensitivestretch of skin just like you like. Then I’ll move upward--“ Kenma’s form wentlimp, and he wilted backward as he fainted.
Oikawa caught him in his arms, and a small group ofgasps filled the room.
“Can you please keep your weird dress-induced depravityprivate?” Iwaizumi asked.
“I’m sorry,” Kuroo lied. “I just couldn’t pass up Kenmafainting at the idea of me pleasuring him.”
“It wasn’t at you! This is part of the plan!”
“I know, but the visual is more than real enough toentertain my fantasy.”
“I’ll follow you upstairs,” Oikawa was saying totheir target and host. He scooped Kenma effortlessly into his arms. The dresspiled high and radiated around his legs like a galaxy stitched together by gold.
“You and Oikawa are bad for each other,” Iwaizumi decided.“You’re both awful.”
“Yeah, I’m badfor Oikawa,” Kuroo said, tracking their motions across the marble floor andthrough a doorway. “It wasn’t me who turned us all into criminals.”
“It wasn’t me either!”
Kenma and Oikawa disappeared behind the door. Theywere the conniving ones, the charming ones, and the reason they were all here.
“Alright Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said, standing to adjustthe lay of his vest. “Time for the muscle.”
Shizuo was sitting on the ground, minding his owndamned business, when the voice echoed down the alleyway: “Well well well, ifit isn’t Shizu-chan.”
Shizuo leaned over to pick up the battered yieldsign next to him when Izaya threw up his hands. “No need, I’m not here to killyou. Tonight.”
Normally Shizuo would have launched into the assaultanyway--what’s the word of a demon supposed to mean to him?--but when Izayaheld up his hands, he noticed blood matting his shirt to his ribcage.
“You’re bleeding,” Shizuo said around his cigarette.He set the sign down.
“Excellent deduction for an animal--I’m so proud.”
The cigarette sagged as Shizuo frowned. “Fuck you,Izaya.”
Izaya regarded him from where he stood, taking inShizuo’s sprawled out form on the glistening pavement. “You also seem to bebleeding.”
Shizuo’s wound was more well-disguised, hidden underhis vest. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Could still kill you one-handed.”
“Right,” Izaya said, flopping down on the pavementbeside him. “As you’ve done so many times before.”
“Fuck you.”
“Varied insults tonight, I’m impressed.”
Shizuo considered slamming his head against thebrick behind him. It wouldn’t knock him out, but the ringing in his ears wouldbe much better than the jagged edges of Izaya’s voice.
“Who this time?” Izaya asked, tilting his head andarching an eyebrow.
“You fucking know who it was--you sent them.”
“I did no such thing.”
Shizuo rolled his eyes. It was always Izaya. Everyattack, every battle, every moment of blinding rage held together with nothingbut his own skin and bone.
“Mine was a parent,” Izaya said, looking down at thewound. “She was crying at she stabbed at me.” A laughed jingled from histhroat, proud.
“You’re disgusting,” Shizuo said.
“At least I’m not a monster, or a beast.” Izayasmiled, and in the dingy light of the alleyway, his eyes were the color ofdried blood. “At least I know I’m human.”
Shizuo brought his fingers to his mouth, taking adeep inhale of smoke before pulling the cigarette away and releasing it. Theveil slid between them, and Izaya’s features distorted like an apparition.
“For all the good it’s done you,” Shizuo said. Thesmoke twirled in response to the exhale of his words, and the gray veil partedaround Izaya’s face. “You live battered and poison everything you touch.” Helifted his hand back to his mouth, but in a movement too quick for Shizuo totrack, Izaya plucked the cigarette from his fingers.
“And what’s that mean?” Izaya asked, twirling thecigarette once before letting it rest between two fingers. “From someone whoseems to love poison so much?” He inhaled against the cigarette, and as Shizuocompulsively reached for it, Izaya exhaled all the smoke, gusting it right overShizuo’s lips.
It blew around his face, curled over his skin andmouth, and Shizuo couldn’t help but inhale--taking in the shifting gray thattrickled over Izaya’s parted lips. It burned his lungs like all the puffsbefore didn’t, almost like the first time Shizuo had tasted the toxic burn as ateenager.
Shizuo blinked, and this close he swore even thesift of his eyelashes through air made the smoke dance. For a moment they wereboth trapped under the veil as apparitions, joined together by breath. Izayasmiled.
“Die,” Shizuo said to him.
Izaya reached forward and tapped the cigarette toShizuo’s bottom lip, where it stuck. “Kill me,” he responded pleasantly. Thenhe rose to his feet, dusted off his pants, and left.
for the drabble thingie, maybe (as it's valentine's day real soon) iwaoi on their first real date which is kinda awkward bc they still need to adjust from 'being best friends turned to lovers' to 'publicly dating.' idk if that's what you're looking for but hope you'll feel better soon anyway!!
I LOVE IT. IwaOi.
___________________
“I feel like everyone is looking at us.”
“Don’t you always feel like everyone is looking atyou?”
“Iwa-chan, I’m serious.” Oikawa’s eyes slid aroundthe cafe and he scooted closer to the table. His voice dropped an octave. “Andthey usually are, thank you very much.”
“They’re not,” Iwaizumi told him flatly. He broughthis coffee to his mouth and glared over the lid. Oikawa was fidgeting. “Stop,”he said, and delivered a swift kick to his shin under the table.
“Ow! Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shot him a look somewherebetween angry and sniveling.
Iwaizumi sighed. He set his cup on the table, handstill curled around it. “You’re the one who said we should do this. Since we’re‘young and in love’, or some othergarbage.”
“Our love isn’t garbage!” Oikawa hissed, then jerkedas if influenced by an outside presence. He glanced around the cafe again,paranoid.
“No,” Iwaizumi agreed, “but the idea that we have togo on some coffee date on Valentine’s day is. You’re obviously freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out,” Oikawa grumbled. “I just...”
Iwaizumi knew what ‘he just’. He just wanted to be a regular mushy couple and doregular mushy couple things. That was fine.
If it didn’t give him an anxiety attack first.
Oikawa didn’t pick up the sentence he’d lefttrailing. “Tooru,” Iwaizumi started, which made Oikawa spring upright in hisseat. “You don’t have to walk around with a rainbow flag taped to yourforehead. It’s okay to feel weird about it. We’re in the minority.”
Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi like he was disgusted. “What?”
“What?” Iwaizumi flinched. “What what?”
“You think I care about people knowing I’m gay?”
“Uh...”
Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Idiot.”
“Fill me in then,” Iwaizumi spat. “Oh great Lord ofParanoia.”
“I don’t want to make you nervous!” Oikawa said. “You have that weird alpha male thinggoing on--“
“Excuse me?”
“And you’re all dark and broody and arm wrestlepeople for money--you’re like like some delinquent who rides to school on amotorcycle.”
“If you’re going for insults here, you shouldrethink your strategy.”
“It seems like I’d be screwing up your image! Eventhough I’m the most attractive person in the tri-district area who certainlyhas plenty of male admirers--“
“Oikawa.”
“It’s true; I’ve received numerous confessions frommale schoolmates.”
“Toor--wait, numerous?”
“So.” Oikawa folded his hands over the table. “Justtell me what is comfortable for you. I’ll be a wonderful boyfriend about it, Ipromise.”
Iwaizumi stood and leaned over the table, still glaring.“Why don’t you ever have confidence in the right places?” Then he leanedforward and brushed his lips over Tooru’s, fitting them together in the perfectkiss.
When he pulled back, Oikawa’s face was bright red.Iwaizumi sat back down and kicked out his feet, lounging. He picked his coffeeback up. “Idiot,” he said.
Oikawa’s face split into a grin. There was mumblingoff to the side, and his eyes slid in that direction.
“Now they’retalking about us,” Iwaizumi said.
Oikawa turned to them, beaming. “Aren’t we agorgeous couple?” he asked the school girl holding up her phone to take apicture. He winked.
The girl squealed, and her friend had to scramble tocatch the phone she dropped from her hands.
When Oikawa turned back to him, he looked like thenormal world-conquering Oikawa he’d fallen in love with.
“I guess you’re a pretty great boyfriend too,” hesaid, coyly taking a sip of his latte.
Iwaizumi shook his head, but he was glad. He’dgladly wear a rainbow flag taped to his forehead if it made him happy.
(You can choose the characters) playing cards and one of them cheats
lowkey DaiSuga and KageHina. note: I really like playing euchre??
______________________
“Okay, so this means diamonds is trump,” Suga toldthem. He glanced around the table. “Got it?”
“Diamonds!” Hinata cawed back.
“And the Jack of hearts is the second highesttrump-card.”
“Always or just right now?” Kageyama asked.
“Just when diamonds is trump.”
“That makes no sense,” he grumbled, looking down athis hand. “How am I supposed to memorize the second highest trump for every suit?”
“What? Kageyama, it’s–“ Suga released a sighdisguised as a laugh. “It’s just the other Jack of the same color.”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Daichi said, mostly tohimself.
“YeahBakeyama!” Hinata said, slapping him hard on the back. “It’s just the other Jackof the same color!”
“Let’s just get started,” Suga interrupted beforeKageyama throttled Hinata. “Daichi you first.”
Daichi threw down the Jack of Diamonds. Suga glaredacross the table.
“That’s good!” Hinata yelled, practically burstingfrom his seat.
“It’s good for him and Kageyama,” Suga said,pressing his hand to Hinata’s back to guide him back into the chair. “Not forus.”
Hinata threw a low club and Suga pursed his lips.They’d lose their first round, but that was okay. Kageyama tossed a low Diamondinto the pile. Suga threw his own low off-suit card, and Daichi took the pile.
He threw the Ace of diamonds next.
“Seriously?” Suga asked. Daichi just beamed at him. Theythrew their card into the pile for another round, and Daichi took that one too.His next throw was the queen of spades. Suga tried not to wriggle in hisseat–he had the King.
Kageyama threw the ace.
“God!” Suga yelled, throwing his King on top of thepile.
Daichi blinked in surprise. “Nice job Kageyama.”
Kageyama corralled the cards toward him, lookingentirely too pleased with himself. “Thanks,” he eked out.
Daichi leaned back in his chair and fanned himselfwith his cards. “Maybe having Kageyama as a partner isn’t so bad after all.” Smugeyes sparkled on his smug face. Suga frowned at him in disgust. “Two more handsand we might even score double points,” he touted.
Hinata gasped in horror. “Double points!?” He lookedto Suga for consolation. “Is it true!?”
“It is, but it’s okay,” Suga said. He turned toDaichi. “Get cocky–I’ll crush you.”
Kageyama’s eyes widened, but it just made Daichi allthe more smug. He was practically preening.
“Kageyama, your turn,” Suga almost spat, crossinghis arms over his chest. Kageyama threw a low diamond, but it was still trumpover all of Hinata and Suga’s off-suit cards. Suga cursed.
“Double points,” Daichi almost sang.
Kageyama threw an ace, but when they came to Hinata,he threw down the Jack of Hearts with an exclamation of triumph. “Hah! Nodouble points for you! The coolest decoy is back!”
There was a silence.
“Hinata,” Suga tried tentatively.
“You cheated!” Kageyama yelled, knocking the chairback with his legs as he stood.
“I did not!” Hinata said, touching his chest. “I hadthis card the whole time!”
Daichi rubbed at his temples.
“You threw off-suit whenever they threw Diamonds,”Suga said.
“This isn’t a diamond!” Hinata said. “It’s a heart!But it’s the second highest!”
“No, that’s–“
Suga’s explanation was destroyed by a loud “HINATABOKEEEEEE!” and Kageyama launching himself across the table. He slid over it,and Hinata shrieked as Kageyama flew into him and knocked them both to theground. “Cheater!” he yelled, tugging at Hinata’s hair.
“No! Bakeyama! Stop!”
Suga stared down at them, face blank. When heblinked, Daichi was staring across the table at him, warm smile splashed overhis face. “Still think it was a good idea?”
Suga frowned.
“Oh, and–“ Daichi adjusted his scorecard, and the smilebecame beaming. “Double points.”
Iwaizumi sighed, but the breath was caught in the folds of his scarf as his legs carried him forward. Oikawa was practically bounding in front of him, fingers fluttering out at his sides and chin tilted up to take in everything the night sky had to offer. That made Iwaizumi bury his hands further into his pockets, reflexively hoarding his own warmth as Oikawa cast his out in steamy puffs of breath.
Oikawa’s face was all light; branches and benches were wrapped with strings of Christmas decorations, speckling his cheeks with gentle sparks of gold and white. His smile split his face and backlit his eyes with childlike excitement. He paid no mind to the reddened flush across his nose or the slight tremble of his hands. Iwaizumi was glad Oikawa was distracted. Iwaizumi’s fond appreciation was probably plain in his eyes, even with the soft curve of his mouth veiled in cotton.
They had spent all of Christmas Eve together, warm and cozy under the kotatsu while they watched bad documentaries (War documentaries for Iwaizumi, alien sightings for Oikawa), and eventually dragged themselves into the cold for dinner. Oikawa had spent the day rosy and smiling, like it was the only expression his face knew. Iwaizumi might have also spent an inordinate amount of time with his lips tilted upward; he hid it in Oikawa’s shoulder and tucked it between tufts of his hair.
But then Oikawa had insisted they go for a late night stroll, and Iwaizumi was often weak to Oikawa’s insistence.
“This is it,” Oikawa said, twirling to a stop in front of a tree. He blinked at Iwaizumi as he rocked forward on his toes, lips sealed shut but still curled up at the corners. He twisted his hands together, “What do you think?”
Iwaizumi raised his gaze to the tree; brittle branches cracked open the black sky with the reach of their ashy fingers. Sitting comfortably among the bark were balled clusters of leaves, a murky green color dotted with white berries. Iwaizumi’s gaze dropped down heavily, “You mean you forced me to trudge through literal freezing temperatures to see a tree I pass weekly, housing a parasitic ball of leaves?”
“You didn’t ‘trudge’,” Oikawa said, tilting his chin away from Iwaizumi and flicking his wrist to the side in explanation. “You went on a romantic stroll with your boyfriend–”
“Mhm,” Iwaizumi said, taking a couple steps forward.
“– and it’s not just a ball of leaves, it’s–”
Iwaizumi caught his hand, threading their fingers together as he touched their foreheads against one another. “I know what it is,” Iwaizumi breathed over his lips, smiling through his taunt. Oikawa paused in surprise, mouth lolling open, and Iwaizumi used the silence to fit his mouth around Oikawa’s bottom lip. Oikawa relaxed, sinking against Iwaizumi’s lips and his chest, and Iwaizumi was fine sharing his warmth like this, kissing Oikawa under the mistletoe.
Note: My Christmas fluff commission for charbbutt! I’m sorry this is so late; I hope you enjoy it!
_____________________
“ Yuuri .”
Yuuri swatted away the voice hovering around his ear.
“ Yuuri. ”
This time the name came with a small shake to his shoulder.
“Wake up, we have to get ready for our flight.”
“Tenmrmints,” Yuuri mumbled into the pillow. Hotel pillows were so plushy. Soft… feathers…
The mattress bowed and sprung under sudden bouncing weight. “ Yuuri ,” this time the shaking was incessant and unyielding. “Last time you did this we were almost late for our flight!”
Yuuri reluctantly blinked his eyes open. The edges were still foggy, drudging up the simple white and cream of the hotel room. But in the center were silver strands of hair and bright blue eyes. When Yuuri narrowed his vision on Viktor’s eyes his lips split into a smile.
Iwaizumi’s hands curled into the fabric. He was glaring at it, eyes narrowed and mouth pulled down. The incessant jingling of bells over the loudspeakers had become one with his consciousness at some point, a Christmas colored backdrop to every thought that dared slide through his mind. What hadn’t quite joined the scenery was the shrill bleating of the children behind him, scampering down the aisle and gently bumping into his legs. He heard the soft apology of their mother, but his gaze didn’t move from the fabric.
He found himself biting into his bottom lip and thinking, “But is this ugly enough?”
THIS IS SO ADORABLE, AAAAAAAAAAHG. WHAT DO I LIKE MORE?!? THEIR EXPRESSIONS?? THE BACKGROUND LIGHTING?? THE COLORATION?!?!? IDK I JUST LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH.
I am a puddle of stupid all over my work desk. Bless you for this warm and fuzzy piece of beauty. I am as smitten with this as Daichi is with Suga. And that’s pretty damned smitten.
I have been struggling to write, so I reached down into my inbox and drug up a four month old ask. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
_________
Suga was wiggling next to Daichi on the bench, glovedhands curling protectively around his latte as steam wafted up into his face.He was staring down at it, big brown eyes reflecting the colored bursts oflight from the string of Christmas decorations draped over the tree across fromtheir spot in the park. His muffler was pulled up over his mouth, and Suga wastwisting his head, desperately attempting to hook the fabric under his chin tofree his lips for a sip of his drink. Both of Daichi’s hands were free.
Iwaizumi shook his head, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Oikawa’s eyes darkened, and for some reason the gold of his irises suddenly seemed like fact, like they had always been that way. His voice was low, “I’ve always known what I was doing.”
based on a scene from the fic “Shadow of Greed” by suggestivescribe
(I can’t tag you for some reason)
I drew this up for my friend because they dragged me into IwaOi hell and I love this damn fic.
I’ve been thinking about this AU nonstop because I’m on a major Star Wars high right now, and this feels like the ultimate and most timely gift! alsdfkjaksdfj I’m so happy thank you OP!!!
Pre-orders for We Are Like The Blood In Our Veins - a Nekoma Zine
We Are Like The Blood In Our Veins is a Nekoma-centric fanzine dedicated to our favorite cats! The characters of Nekoma and their relationships are depicted by 22 amazing contributors in art and fiction.
A5 | 64+ pages | perfect bound
Pre-orders will be open until Sunday, November 5th, 2017! Shipping is planned between mid-November and early December.
Pre-order your copy here: nekomafanzine.tictail.com
We have a couple of bundles to choose from:
zine only
zine + stickersheets
zine + postcards
zine + 2″ clear acrylic charm
full bundle (zine + stickers, postcards and 2″ clear acrylic charm)
Read here or on AO3.
A commission for @littleangelcake! Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!
______________________________
Ryuji stomped up the stairs of LeBlanc without announcing his entrance. The shop was strangely empty―void of customers and Sojiro alike. But drifting down the staircase was faint music tapping out a quick rhythm, and Ryuji couldn't remember a single time he'd come upon Akira indulging that kind of hip hop-pop hybrid. He took the stairs two at a time, and when his head breached the view of Akira's floor he beamed. "Pardon the intrusion!"
Akira didn't respond. He was facing the other direction, hanging from a beam on his ceiling. He lifted himself into a pull-up, the momentum in the motion a clear indicator that he'd gotten himself into a good pace. He lowered again, keeping his movement controlled, and then repeated.
The view gave Ryuji pause. Small tufts of curls were stuck to the back of his neck where he'd been sweating. His t-shirt was rolled up to the shoulders, baring his arms completely. They were... nice.
What was this guy doing, having nice arms? He never showed them.
The summer humidity stuck to Akira's skin, and a sliver of sunlight outlined the curve of his bicep. Ryuji's eyes dragged over the seams of muscle. Under his shirt, Akira's shoulders rotated and shifted in perfect coordination. It all looked so easy to him.
Had he always been this strong? Ryuji's eyes followed his body down and back up again. Akira gave a huff as he lifted his chin above the beam.
Had he always been this...
The lithe line of his body dropped down. Shoulders flexed, and Ryuji wanted to touch them. More accurately, he wanted to be touched by them. Feel the strength of those arms pushing him down, holding him still, pinning him th—
Oho, woah there. Ryuji shook himself. What was this? That wasn’t how things usually went—not in his head or in real life. Usually they'd mess around and eventually, well, clothes would go, and then mouths would be everywhere—fingers too—and Akira would crawl onto his lap and—
Akira dropped to the floor, and the sudden thud made Ryuji jump in surprise, a small cough squeaking from his throat.
Akira threw a look over his shoulder, hair bouncing around his face where it wasn't stuck to his forehead. If he was surprised, the emotion never reached his face. He gave a small smile instead, tipping his head to the side. "Hey Ryuji; you're early."
Ryuji shuffled around, thanking all the deities for the bagginess of his shorts. "Huh? Oh yeah, well I had nothin' better to do. I guess I shoulda called, huh..."
"No, it's okay." Akira grabbed the chair he had set below his chosen ceiling beam and moved it back to the side.
Ryuji watched him awkwardly. "You uh... do that a lot?"
Akira looked at him again. "Pull-ups? Sometimes."
Ryuji cast a glance at Akira's shelf, occupying his eyes. "Sometimes, haha." He scuffed his socked foot against the floor. "I wish I could move that well working out 'sometimes'."
Akira's shoulders shook in a way that might have housed a laugh. "Maybe it's more than sometimes."
"Mhm. Holdin' out on me. I see how it is."
Akira was smiling when Ryuji turned to him fully. He took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of Ryuji's face, and bopped him on the nose with his finger. "I have to try and keep up with my athlete boyfriend."
The B Word always made Ryuji blush so hard he flinched. Akira took advantage of the hitch in conversation to brush a kiss against Ryuji's lips. Ryuji immediately stilled, his already too-hot skin flaring hotter. He had to will his eyes to flutter back open when Akira pulled away from the kiss. He was smirking. "I'm glad you're here early."
Ryuji turned away from the grin to cough. "Yeah, good, me too." Akira’s shoulders shook again. He strode away from Ryuji and Ryuji glanced around the attic. “Hey, where’s Morgana?”
Akira plucked his glasses from his nose before sending Ryuji a quick side-glance. “On a date with Ann.” Ryuji gave him a dubious look and Akira held up his hands. “That’s just what he told me!”
“Frickin’ cat…”
“So what do you wanna do today?” Akira asked, moving on. “Movie? Games?” He was unthinkingly rubbing at the nosepiece of his glasses with his t-shirt. Before putting them back on, he pinched at the bridge of his nose with it as well to wipe the sweat away. It gave Ryuji a quick and stunning view of Akira’s abs, cut into a perfect six-pack that twitched as he moved.
Unfair.
“M-Movie?” Ryuji tried. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on games right now—he found it a generally bad idea to challenge Akira when his libido was through the roof. He wouldn’t pay attention to the movie either, but at least he wouldn’t get his ass beat at Tekken.
“Okay.” Akira reached for a case and slid a disk into the player.
“Not even gonna ask me what I wanna watch?” Ryuji joked, crossing his arms over his chest. “What a bad date.”
Akira put his hand on his chest in mock offense. “I’m hurt! Turns out this is the only one we haven’t watched yet.”
“I guess I can allow it.”
Akira’s glasses moved just in the slightest as his cheeks pushed them higher. Akira’s smile changed his whole face even when his lips didn’t move much. It was like light spilled from his eyes, or the warmth of it changed the air or… maybe it just changed something inside Ryuji. Something like that. Something good.
They flopped on the bed together, resolute in their smooshed-together bodies even in the summer heat. From here the TV was tiny and almost unusable, so Akira set it on a chair and moved it closer. It didn’t matter either way—Ryuji was too busy inhaling the scent of soap and sweat lingering on Akira’s neck.
The opening scene began and they got comfortable, Ryuji leaning some of his shoulder and weight onto Akira’s chest. It was hard to admit, but Ryuji liked feeling held. Having Akira looking over his shoulder meant he could feel his chest on his back, and that Akira couldn’t see the pained face he was probably making.
Akira sighed, and his breath gusted over the juncture of Ryuji’s neck. Ryuji couldn’t contain the shiver that visibly fled down his limbs, and he just barely caught the gasp attempting to leave his throat. Akira didn’t say anything, but he must have noticed—it wasn’t a minute later that he was grazing his lips up Ryuji’s neck, just barely ghosting sensation over his flesh.
Ryuji shuddered again. His cock stiffened to full hardness in his shorts, and he could have cursed. It was obvious to anyone with eyes, but based on the sweep of lashes against his neck, Akira’s eyes were closed.
He began mouthing at Ryuji’s throat, gently at first. Then he pulled the skin between his teeth and sucked, hands tightening on Ryuji’s hips as he did so. A muffled groan rumbled in Ryuji’s throat, unstoppable. It felt like Akira’s mouth was sucking blood straight into his cock, spiking his arousal and need higher.
When Akira opened his mouth and bit against Ryuji’s neck, his moan came out loud and undiluted. It was embarrassing, especially in the space of the attic where every noise felt amplified. Akira’s hand slid inward, fingers sliding over clothes until they reached the bulge of Ryuji’s length. More groans sounded as he wrapped his fingers around Ryuji, pumping over him.
Ryuji could have squirmed off the bed—even through clothes it was almost too much. It wouldn’t be a new feat for Akira to make him come in his pants. But Ryuji felt flustered and needy in all new ways today. He kept thinking about Akira’s arms and his perfectly cut abs, about how it would feel to have all that power focused on him, controlling him . He gasped as he imagined it—sweat rolling down the crease of Akira’s bicep as he thrust forward, took Ryuji, forced him down and dominated him—
Woah woah woah there.
They hadn’t—with Ryuji as—it was—
Ryuji’s thoughts were reeling out of control. There was a hard resistance at his lower back, right above the crease of his cheeks, and it took him a moment to realize it was Akira’s cock rocking against him.
He would take care of me, right?
They hadn’t done it… that way before. Ryuji had practiced—with a toy he had bought while in heavy disguise at the underground mall, and with his fingers—but they hadn’t done it yet. Akira always got himself wet and ready, and Akira always rode Ryuji like it was the best sensation he’d ever felt, like he could never want anything else. Ryuji had never really gotten it—his fingers could feel good but...
They hurt, too.
He was probably wasn’t doing it right. He was dumb, and clumsy, and those were two things Akira wasn’t. And for whatever reason all Ryuji could think about, the only damned thing that could occupy his thoughts, was of getting it done right , and hard, and fully...
Akira inside him. Akira inside him .
Ryuji groaned, his rim flinching without stimulation. What the fuck?
“Akira, man, you gotta—” Akira was still pumping over him, and Ryuji was about to lose himself. “S-stop?”
Akira paused immediately, but Ryuji could feel the doubtful look levied at the side of his face. “Is that a direction or a question?”
“I…”
Akira nipped at the side of his neck. “Don’t want to make a mess? Or…” He shifted on the bed, his length once again grazing against Ryuji’s back and reminding him that he wasn’t the only one with needs. “Have something else in mind?”
Ryuji heaved an exhale, which must have sounded like agreement to Akira. He chuckled, already undoing his pants. “I’ll get ready.”
A few quick blinks forced Ryuji’s vision back into focus, and he grabbed Akira’s arm. That halted his motions, and when Akira turned his gaze back toward him, Ryuji immediately looked away. But Akira didn’t say anything, he only waited.
“Today… I thought…”
Come on dude, just say it!
Akira was still unmoving in his grasp, patient.
Ryuji cleared his throat and went back to locking eyes, determined to overpower his embarrassment. His voice came out low and almost whispery, but he thought that was okay. “I was hoping... you could take me.”
Akira stared at him. There was a too-long, overdrawn moment of them staring at each other in tandem silence, and with every passing second Ryuji felt his heart beat itself closer to the grave.
“Akira?”
“I’m sorry,” Akira said with a small shake of his head. “I was just trying to commit you saying that to memory so I could use it for all future masturbation sessions.”
“Dude!”
And just like that, the switch was flipped. Akira leaned forward, breath gusting over Ryuji’s lips. Sharp gray eyes stared at him, smoldering like they were trapping searing heat behind steel doors. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Ryuji’s arms trembled as he leaned on them. He was keeping himself a breath away from Akira’s face, and he didn’t know why. His response was just short of a whimper.
Akira’s mouth quirked up. “What brought this on?”
Your arms. “Nothin’ man, I just—” Ryuji looked away again. “I’ve been practicin’ ya know? I do two fingers alright now, and I just figured…”
Akira leaned forward and Ryuji leaned back, keeping that arbitrary few centimeters between their faces. Soon he was completely unfurled on the bed, laid out and pliable beneath Akira’s body. He exhaled, and his whole body shook.
Akira watched the effect of it ripple down Ryuji’s body, shaking him from his lungs to his toes. Ryuji was strung tight with tension. He wanted to lay beneath Akira and be taken wholly, driven to the point of snapping hard and uncontrollably. There was something in him that wanted to be pressed down hard into the bed and kept from breathing. He trusted Akira to make him feel exactly the way he wanted to feel. He wanted to just… surrender.
“Okay,” Akira whispered, and for one haunting second Ryuji was convinced he heard his thoughts.
Akira’s fingers fanned out over Ryuji’s chest before touching down against the fabric. When he dragged them downward, tiny prickles of heat followed, jolting into something hotter and more violent when he got to the hem and touched at bare skin.
Ryuji jumped, gasping.
Akira chuckled. “You’re extra sensitive today.”
Ryuji made a disgruntled noise. “Don’t you say that most days?”
Another laugh. Akira ran his hands up Ryuji’s abs, pushing the shirt up with them. “Maybe.” He nipped at Ryuji’s stomach and Ryuji groaned, precum spilling over his head and slicking up his boxers.
So maybe he was extra sensitive today.
“I look forward to figuring out what brought this on later,” Akira said, mouth moving against his skin as Ryuji pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side.
“I already told ya... no reason.”
Akira tugged at the waistband of Ryuji pants and kissed within the confines of his hipbones. “Liar.”
Ryuji’s back arched. He was afraid of Akira touching him. He had already been so close, even before clothes came off, and now…
Akira took to undressing him, flicking open the button of his shorts with deft fingers and pulling down. The shorts were thrown to the floor with Ryuji’s shirt, and Akira’s eyes stalled on the patch of slick dark seeping through his boxers.
Ryuji cleared his throat and looked away, but only for a moment. His eyes were immediately drawn back as Akira peeled the fabric away, taking extra care to lick at the clear wet trail his cock had left on his abs. Breath shuddered from Ryuji’s chest as he watched with unfaltering attention. Akira’s eyes were closed as he drew his tongue into his mouth and tasted him fully. When his lips parted again he trembled as if he’d been touched.
“You’re so weird man,” Ryuji breathed, not minding in the least.
Akira opened his eyes, lancing that smoke-hot gaze right through Ryuji’s chest. He leaned down and lapped at the trail again, keeping eye contact. Ryuji almost hissed as he quivered.
Akira guided the boxers down Ryuji’s legs, making sure he shed them completely. Then his hand slid down to Ryuji’s thighs, touching gently at the soft inner flesh. He guided them open.
Ryuji gasped, overwhelmed just at the act of baring himself. Akira’s gaze flickered upward, peering over the horizon of Ryuji’s body as he brought his face down low. His breath trickled from his lips and between Ryuji’s cheeks, a reminder.
“Are you sure?” Ryuji almost squeaked out. “I mean… that? I mean you really want—”
Akira leaned forward and dragged his tongue over Ryuji’s entrance.
Ryuji’s entire body spasmed in shock and surprise. It was… there wasn’t a feeling like it, not really. Akira did it again and this time Ryuji huffed an exhale through gritted teeth, trying not to moan.
“So you like it,” Akira said, foregoing a question entirely. His voice was husky.
“Well—” Yeah, “—it’s different…”
Akira repeated the motion, but this time he flicked at Ryuji’s entrance with the tip of his tongue.
Oh God.
How could one touch make Ryuji want something inside him so badly? Just one wet touch and he could already feel his body begging to be opened. Was that normal? Was that just the power of Akira?
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Akira told him. He didn’t pause in his actions—he went right back to work, swirling his tongue around Ryuji’s opening before slipping the tip inside.
“What the fuck!?” Ryuji wheezed.
Akira immediately withdrew. “Is that bad? Are you okay?”
“No—I mean yes, but don’t stop, I’m goin’ insane here!”
There might have been a chuckle as Akira dipped back down again, pressing his tongue hard against Ryuji’s puckered flesh. He moaned, unable and unwilling to try and control it, and his mind filled with images Akira fucking him with his tongue until he was spent and empty.
It didn’t take him long to realize that it wasn’t enough—it would never be enough. The intrusion was too wet and pliable and not nearly deep enough. He needed something to stretch, to fill…
“Akira.”
Akira hummed against Ryuji’s rim, and Ryuji felt it all the way up his spine.
“Akira, I need… um, uh—”
Akira spread him just a little with his thumbs and thrust his tongue in deeper. Ryuji’s voice cracked against the attic walls and ceiling as he moaned. “Yes?” Akira asked politely.
“More,” Ryuji tried weakly.
“More?”
“Yes please.”
He felt Akira’s lips snap into a smirk against his skin. He lifted his chin to gaze at Ryuji, slick still smeared around his mouth and chin. “Well since you said ‘please’ ...”
Ryuji sighed, a vain attempt at exasperation.
“Get me the lube. On the side table.”
It took Ryuji a moment to regain focus, but eventually he shook himself of his lust-haze and smacked around Akira’s side table. The lube was easy to find—the plastic was sticky in a very telling way—and he handed it to Akira.
“I’ll start with one.”
Ryuji nodded hastily, flopping his head back on the bed. Don’t think about it. If you think about it, you’ll tense up. Don’t—
Akira ran the tips of his newly lubed fingers around Ryuji’s entrance, taunting him.
Ryuji gasped, unthinkingly pushing against the touch in an effort to take more. Tensing up wasn’t going to be an issue with Akira like it was when he was alone.
“Needy,” Akira chirped. “Are you sure we haven’t done it this way before?”
“Shut up,” Ryuji gritted out, hips still writhing against that touch. He wanted it.
Surprisingly, Akira did just as he was told. He said nothing, so the room was perfectly silent when he slid his finger into Ryuji’s body.
It was a shock as his rim opened up for Akira, as his insides flooded with sudden sensation. He tried to keep his hips still even as they wanted to jerk, and Akira’s motion came to a slow stop. He waited as Ryuji groaned, taking heavy breaths. Then when he felt Ryuji was ready he moved again, sliding deeper.
Aah . It was a strange feeling, but a welcome one. Heat was surging out from Akira’s touch, his rim sizzling with tight-wound tension and wonderful friction. Finally he didn’t feel empty.
Akira began moving his hand in a rhythm soon after, pumping into him with slow, gentle thrusts. Ryuji found his body unfurling around the touch, craving more and more of it with every motion. That made it easier when Akira poured more lube over the both of them and added a second finger.
It was a stretch, and Ryuji’s body reflexively tightened.
“Shh,” Akira cooed through Ryuji’s gasps. He leaned forward and slid his tongue up the length of Ryuji’s cock, tasting his precum at the tip.
“Dammit,” Ryuji breathed. “Christ.”
Akira took the head in his mouth and sucked as his fingers dove deeper. Ryuji’s moans shook his very bones. Akira felt good . He was working open his slick rim, dragging friction against his inner walls. He turned his hand, twisting his fingers within Ryuji. It was slow-moving torture. Then he curled his fingers a bit, feeling around, and a jolt of sensation overwhelmed Ryuji so fully that for a moment he swore he went blind.
He shouted, unsure if it was in pain or pleasure, only to realize that he’d almost come instantaneously. He shook, arms and legs and lips, and his cock ruthlessly spilled precum over his stomach.
“Good to know,” Akira said.
Ryuji tried to curse but it just came out as a weak noise—a sound a wounded animal might make.
Akira toyed with him awhile longer—stroked in and out of him slowly, pressed his fingers into that over-sensitive place that made Ryuji want to be fucked senseless. It still wasn’t enough. Not enough of Akira, not enough spreading him open, holding him down, filling him up.
“Do you want another finger?”
Ryuji shook his head vigorously before answering. “No. Please no.”
“Please no?”
“Akira,” Ryuji breathed, losing track of proper thought and senses. “Please just fuck me.”
Akira went impossibly still. Ryuji could feel his eyes on him, even with his own closed. So he opened them, and stared back at the smoldering silver gaze pinned to his face.
“Please,” Ryuji whispered. “Fuck me.”
A visible thrill worked over Akira’s shoulder and down his spine. He closed his eyes and took a breath, letting it go nice and even. When he opened them again he went to withdrawing his fingers, and Ryuji could have cried out at the sudden emptiness of his body.
Akira leaned forward, crawling over Ryuji so he could reach for the condoms hidden away beside his bed.
“Akira.”
Akira glanced down at Ryuji as he grabbed one. He blinked his question.
Ryuji’s hands fluttered around Akira’s hips, landing on them gently. “Let me do what you do for me.”
There was a quiet moment of missed understanding, and when it dawned on him, Akira shook his head. “You don’t have to.”
“Let me,” Ryuji said. He pulled Akira’s hips forward, which came without resistance. Then he took the tip of Akira’s cock into his mouth and ran his tongue over the head.
It was so wet. And salty. And Akira .
The heft of it weighed against Ryuji’s tongue as he took him deeper, and his lips stretched to accommodate the girth. He was supposed to fit all this inside him? Normally he thought he might be terrified—right now it made him keen with want.
Akira gasped and sagged forward, leaning his weight against the attic wall. His legs trembled where they held him. When Ryuji was certain he’d gotten Akira good and wet, he withdrew.
Akira cleared his throat. “Th—thanks.”
Ryuji almost snorted. “Don’t be awkward dude; that’s not your role.”
Akira turned his head away, but it didn’t conceal the red that had flooded across his face. It was gone a moment later though—he opened the condom at the corner and rolled it on before dumping a liberal amount of lube over himself.
He dropped down to all fours then, bouncing against the mattress as he brought his lips just above Ryuji’s mouth. “What is my role?”
The tip of Akira’s cock touched against Ryuji’s cheeks and he shuddered. Finally he focused, taking in Akira’s perfect face with heat-hazy eyes. “I think you know, Leader. ”
Akira’s lips parted before shifting into the low curve of a smile. He kissed Ryuji, bearing his weight down on top of him before pulling away. Ryuji didn’t want him to.
His finger slid back between Ryuji’s cheeks and Ryuji mewled, his body squirming at the touch. Soon Akira’s cockhead was pressing in against Ryuji’s entrance, the not-quite-pressure a delicate tease of what would come.
Ryuji reached down to wrap his hand around his cock, a trick he’d seen Akira employ the first few times he took Ryuji into him. But Akira immediately stifled his efforts, smacking his hand away.
“Wh—”
“Not your job,” Akira said almost distractedly as he leaned over the bed and felt around the floor. He came back up with a discarded suspender that came with all school uniforms. He shoved vaguely at Ryuji’s hands then, pinning them above his head. “I want to decide,” Akira told him. Then he lashed the suspenders around Ryuji’s wrists, tying them together. He looked back down at Ryuji’s face. “I want to decide when you come.”
Goosebumps fled over Ryuji’s skin. He felt the tremors overtake him in waves, shaking from his core all the way out to his pores. When he reopened his eyes, Akira was staring at him.
“I thought you might have been feeling that way today.” He pressed the tip of his cock back to Ryuji’s entrance. “Submissive.”
If Akira didn’t fuck him soon, Ryuji was going to come all over himself without prompting, and it was going to be embarrassing as hell.
He couldn’t tell Akira that he was always feeling submissive for him. Every time he saw him, every time they touched, every time Akira slid down the length of him. Akira was always in control and that was all Ryuji wanted—to be pressed and bent by those expert fingers.
Akira brought his hand up to Ryuji’s length and pressed his thumb to the tip, sliding around the head in a pool of precum.
“Shit,” Ryuji breathed.
“Relax for me,” Akira said as he continued to draw circles over the tip of him. He pressed against Ryuji’s entrance again. The rim gave way for the first bit greedily, hungrily. Ryuji felt the stretch all the way in his toes.
Then came the rest of the head, spreading him wider. Ryuji groaned, and the reflexive need to flee overtook his limbs. But he resisted—it was always like this, with fingers or toys—and it would fade. His hands shook restlessly in their bonds.
Akira pushed past the head entirely, moving until his shaft was what held Ryuji open, and then paused. Ryuji was biting his lip to keep from shouting. The pressure of Akira inside him was insane—it made his lungs empty of air, made his entire body wind tight. Akira stroked his hand over Ryuji’s length, drawing shivers straight out of him. Ryuji moaned, and even as his legs trembled he could feel his body relaxing around Akira, adjusting to him.
“I’m going to move.”
Ryuji nodded without looking at him. Then he was filled, slowly, and all the oxygen and all the thoughts stored up in Ryuji’s body emptied, taken over. He gasped, trying for breath like there was a hand on his throat, and extra slick spilled down his shaft. His body screamed around Akira’s girth, around the feel of him pushing aside his inner walls delving deep into him. His wet rim was a chorus of friction and heat, the slide so good that the pain dissipated quickly.
Akira paused when he was seated almost fully inside. “Good,” he purred.
The noise Ryuji tried to make quivered in his throat and left him breathy and almost inaudible. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes.
Akira reached forward with the hand that had been on Ryuji’s cock and touched at his cheekbone. Ryuji leaned into the touch. He wanted more of Akira’s body weight pressed against him. Then he began moving, pulling his hips back so that he could thrust in again. Every snap forward made Ryuji’s nerves light up in brilliant colors. The jolt sent him high and careening, then the drag back made him moan. Then it all happened again, over and over. The colors flashed and swarmed behind Ryuji’s eyes.
Why hadn’t they done this sooner? What stupid fear had made Ryuji think this would be anything short of great? It was Akira, after all.
“Akira.”
Akira mumbled something. Ryuji suspected it was to keep a moan at bay. He was rocking into Ryuji in perfect rhythm, adjusting his angle slightly after a few thrusts. Then he grazed against that spot, that place that had made Ryuji shout, and it all happened again.
Ryuji’s hips bucked, and he felt the tension beneath his skin sky-rocket.
“Found it,” Akira whispered. He wrapped his hand around Ryuji’s cock and began stroking again. Ryuji was embarrassingly wet, and the sound and feel of Akira stroking over him made his whole body shake.
“Akira.”
“I know.” He thrust a few more times, just barely grazing against that spot once more, and Ryuji came as if it was a reflex, as if he could be perfectly undone by Akira’s cock alone. His back snapped into an arch and he gasped between his moans, stripes of cum decorating his stomach. His rim was flinching around Akira’s shaft, squeezing tight and then unfurling again as he orgasmed.
Akira groaned, the first undone noise he had allowed from his mouth. He was quickly becoming too much for Ryuji—his insides were frighteningly oversensitive, and he had to resist the urge to scurry away from all touch.
“Akira,” he gasped again, this time with a different sort of desperation.
“Ryuji,” Akira whispered. Then his body jerked, hips snapping hard against Ryuji, and he came. He almost collapsed on top of him as the waves poured out, shudders wracking his limbs. The weakened gasps against Ryuji’s ear made Ryuji want to hold him. But he didn’t—instead he just relished the sounds and twitches, drinking in the feel of Akira going languid and numb on top of him.
Akira’s hips eventually went still. He would shiver now and again, a reaction that bled right into Ryuji thanks to their bodies being perfectly connected. After a few aftershocks had gone by, Akira pulled from him. It was… an uncomfortable feeling. It made Ryuji want to wriggle away and crawl under the bed, closing himself off. But once his body relaxed he was fine again, and he felt nothing but spent.
Akira flopped down beside him and sighed.
Ryuji spoke first. “That was…”
Akira nodded.
There was a silence, and then Akira opened his eyes. It was only then Ryuji realized he’d been staring at him.
“Was it okay?” Akira asked.
“Duh. It was better than okay.”
Akira’s eyes closed slowly. “I’m relieved.”
“Hey, Akira?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you untie my hands?”
They both glanced up at Ryuji’s arms, still bound above his head. They broke into unified laughter. “I’m sorry; I’d forgotten.”
“Well that’s fine and all but I gotta go to the bathroom and that’s not something I want to attempt hands-free.”
They snickered together. “Sojiro would not forgive either of us for that.” He reached up and loosed the suspenders, freeing Ryuji’s wrists at last.
“Thanks.”
“But hey, can you hold it a little longer?”
Ryuji looked to Akira with confusion on his face.
Akira squirmed closer to him.
Ryuji almost guffawed. “What, you wanna snuggle?”
“Don’t make fun of me. Just lay there, all right?” He threw his arm over Ryuji’s chest. “I liked tying you up, but I missed touching you.”
Ryuji tried not to let the shock show on his face. He failed. Luckily Akira’s eyes were determinedly closed. Ryuji nuzzled his nose into Akira’s hair. Ryuji always wanted to snuggle this guy. He just felt lucky he didn’t have to say it this time.
