CW: NSFW under the cut (MINORS DNI); semi-public sex, grinding, frottage, anal fingering, spit as lube, not edited cause I don't wanna.
There was always something about lingering adrenaline after a bull-ride. Almost all riders experience it. Most choose to blow off steam in the typical ways- hitting the bars to drink, shoot pool and maybe pick up an interested buckle bunny or two.
Before their little thing started, both him and Dazai followed suit. They still did sometimes but why bother when there were better options? It was always more intense for Chuuya, who had endless electric energy always kept at bay on a regular day.
That was how Dazai found himself in his situation, pressed flat against the inside of a janitor's closet door of the latest arena, a riled up Chuuya gently biting his under his jaw with a wolf's grin.
Dazai slips his thigh between the shorter's thighs for him to grind against. Chuuya was distracted for a second, clearly basking in finally getting friction on the half chub he had been sported for the last half hour. But with a goal in mind, he snaps out of it, pushing up on his toes to kiss him as he rushed to unbuckle Dazai's belt and pop the button of his jeans.
As soon as the final ceremony ended, Chuuya hadn't hesitated. Dazai didn't know when Chuuya set it up for the closet to already be unlocked as he yanked him through the doorway. They hadn't bothered showering. Both were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and a smear of dirt painted Chuuya's cheek. Chuuya smelled like a combination of earth, sweat and spicy musk that managed to still be appealing.
Dazai inhaled deep and squeezes Chuuya's lithe waist before sliding his own hands down to slip his fingers under Chuuya's own buckle, making quick work of unfastening his rivals pants. Just they had eachothers cocks out, Chuuya momentarily separated their lips, hocked a healthy amount of spit into his own palm before gripping them both. Dazai pushed his own hips forward into a delicious slide, groaning in the back of his throat. They moved in tandem, pressed tight against eachother and desperate in their own chase for pleasure.
Dazai slid his hands up the other's back to his hair. He gripped soft red locks between his fingers and firmly yanked.
Chuuya gave a gasping moan in response. Dazai took his opportunity to stick two fingers in his partner's open mouth. Even in the dark of the light, Dazai could see Chuuya's dual toned eyes flicked up to meet his own. Dazai had to bite his lip and resist letting his eyes roll back. Around his fingers Chuuya suckled running his tongue along the seam where the digits met. Simultaneously, Chuuya squeezed his hand around them tighter and pumped his hips faster.
Dazai's peak was hurdling closer. He had to pull one more trump card to make sure he wouldn't finish first. Slipping his fingers out of Chuuya's mouth, well coated in spit, he quickly moved his hand behind them under the other's jeans and boxers. He deftly circled his rim a few times before he breached one fingertip past.
"Mm, hah, fuck," Chuuya's moan grew as he broke away again to lean his head against the brunet's shoulder.
With how riled up the red head was, that's all it took for him to spill between them. He didn't bother pull away before continue pumping them, probably reveling in the overstimulation.
Bringing his other hand up, he cupped Dazai's jaw and purrs, "You win this one, Samu."
The gravelly quality in Chuuya's sexed-out voice was enough to make Dazai follow, stars dancing behind his eyes.
After catching his breath, all Dazai could said in reply is, "Heh, yippee."
