"Suoh." The sharp voice pierced the pitch black silence of the stuffy cell. But even this was nothing but a vague shadow of the commanding tone Munakata usually spoke with. With his index finger, he carefully pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, sighing as the cell walls shifted into place behind him. He observed quietly as Mikoto lazily rolled over on the thin mattress to face him, his impatience growing by the second.
"I didn't expect to see you again so soon...Munakata," Mikoto responded, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the poor lighting. The only light was incredibly dim, filtered in through the narrow window, highlighting a pale strip across the stone floor. Past the shadows that blended with every curve of the man's Scepter 4 uniform, Mikoto could barely make out the irritated set of Munakata's shoulders.
"We need to talk," Munakata informed him shortly, narrowing his eyes and regarding the man with a reprimanding glare. Several seconds past before Mikoto finally pulled himself into a sitting position, the mattress groaning in protest beneath him. Munakata had to hold his tongue as the lazy man propped himself upright with his back against the cool wall.
"It seems like that's all we ever do," Mikoto said slowly, purposely keeping his voice low. Over the past few days, he'd grown accustomed to the silence he'd been shrouded in. Chin titled up, head hitting the wall with a dull thud, his amber eyes slid partially closed, but he kept his gaze on the vague outline of the Blue King. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep.
"It's about what you're doing," Munakata began, recycling the same line he must have used half a dozen times before. His hands were clenched into fists before he could stop himself. With a sharp intake of breath, he forced himself to fold his arms across his chest, attempting to control his emotions.
"I think we've talked about that enough." Mikoto's eyes were wide open now, searching the darkness for the fine features of Munakata's face. A harsh scowl was all he could identify, illuminated by the soft light glinting in the man's glasses. He challenged that glare with an amused smirk. "The question is," he continued, "what are you doing here, Munakata?"
A long silence flooded their conversation. Munakata shifted his feet but his gaze never wavered from his prisoner. "My job," he replied almost snappily. "My duty. Fulfilling my responsibilities as a King, something you would know nothing about, Suoh." The last part fell out of his mouth as a sneer and he averted his eyes now, glancing over his shoulder at the solid wall behind him.
Apparently deciding he had heard enough, Mikoto patted his sad excuse for a pillow and flopped back down on the mattress. "True," he mumbled in agreement after another moment of silence had passed. "I'm not a very good King." He wriggled on the lumpy mattress, trying his hardest to get comfortable with his arms behind his head. In this darkness, he couldn't even tell where the walls ended and the ceiling began; everything was a swirling, dark mass. "But you still haven't answered my question," he added, his eyes slipping closed. "What are you doing here?"
Out of nowhere, slender hands grabbed the front of his shirt roughly, stretching the fabric and pulling Mikoto into an almost upright position. Although he was intrigued, he reopened his eyes with exaggerated slowness, discovering that Munakata's pale face was barely inches from his own. It seemed like he'd really gotten under the man's skin today.
"I'm here to talk some sense into you, Suoh." Munakata replied angrily. "Before it's too late." His low voice was fading into something almost inaudible. Mikoto simply smirked, sparking something in the Blue King's violet eyes, like a stone being thrown into a pond. "You're impossible," Munakata snapped, his eyebrows knitting together. "What do I have to do to make you understand the gravity of your situation?"
"What indeed," Mikoto repeated lazily, sighing and tensing his abdominals, moving to support his own weight so he avoided stretching his shirt any further. In doing so, his face inched slightly closer to Munakata's and he cocked an eyebrow at the man, his smirk widening. Despite the tension between them, he'd always felt oddly comfortable teasing the Bluet.
Closing his eyes, Munakata let out a soft sigh that tickled Mikoto's cheeks. If his hands hadn't been balled up in the fabric of the other man's shirt, he would have pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. His eyes flared open, still glowing as intensely as before. "You can't kill yourself like this." His voice was barely a whisper compared to earlier, but still so loud in the isolated cell.
Mikoto opened his mouth to give a snarky reply, but held back, snapping his mouth shut as he caught the expression on Munakata's face. He frowned, tilting his head slightly in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Was the Blue King...genuinely upset? Mikoto felt his own expression soften slightly.
Neither of them moved. They sat bent at uncomfortable angles, listening to the sounds of each other's measured breathing. Munakata loosened his grip on the redhead's shirt, his fingers gently grazing the man's chest. He felt like he had so much more to say, but he couldn't find the words to say it. "Mikoto..." he murmured, using the Red King's first name for the first time.
"Munakata," the other replied, recovering as a smirk leapt across his features once more.
The Bluet scowled again, suddenly aware that he had left himself vulnerable for that brief second. His hands cupped Mikoto's face roughly and he swiftly closed the distance between them, not giving the man a chance to back away. Immediately, a heat erupted between them. As expected, Mikoto's lips were warm as they moved roughly against the contours of Munakata's own. The Blue King found himself holding Mikoto closer as the Red's hands found his hips.
"You think you know everything," Mikoto growled, breaking away. A faint red aura was glowing around him and his eyes were fierce, but Munakata couldn't help but notice Mikoto wasn't pushing him away.
"Don't I?" the Bluet asked, mirroring the Red's all too familiar smirk. With his palms against Mikoto's chest, his fingertips felt the planes of the man's chiselled body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Munakata pushed him backwards, pinning him down on the bed. Mikoto's only movement was a slight twist of his neck, bringing his lips back to Munakata's.
Their lips didn't move in perfect sync, but it didn't matter. All that mattered in that moment was the roughness of their embrace, the uncertainty of it. Munakata focussed on the pressure of Mikoto's hands as they travelled down his back and his heart skipped a beat at the heat passing between them. Their teeth clinked slightly as Mikoto deepened the kiss. Munakata ground his hips against the other, readjusting his position and realigning their bodies more comfortably. In that moment, he knew Mikoto was alive, and he knew he wanted the Red to stay that way.
"Don't die," he whispered, an uneven breath against Mikoto's lips. In comparison to the Red King's, Munakata's lips were softer, cooler and somehow more defined. Slowly kissing his way from the corner of Mikoto's mouth to his neck, he murmured again, "Don't die."
"Not yet," Mikoto agreed, tangling his fingers in the Bluet's soft hair. "But I'm not making any promises, Munakata." He shivered slightly as the Blue King nipped at his neck, his teeth grazing his skin softly. It was a very delicate thing, he thought. Very intimate. Affectionate. Very unlike the Blue King.
Catching onto Mikoto's train of thought, Munakata carelessly stretched the neckline of the Red's shirt and bit down just a bit harder on the man's shoulder, feeling a hint of satisfaction at that sharp intake of breath and those hands holding him closer. Breathing heavily against his skin, Munakata sucked roughly at the man's neck, hard enough to leave some fierce bruises. He bit down even harder, almost hard enough to draw blood. Mikoto's hand tugged at his hair, a small noise of pleasure escaping him.
Munakata's head was wrenched back in a swift motion, his lips suddenly colliding with Mikoto's. The Red King's kiss was on the verge of violence, passionate and messy as he bit the Blue King's lip, unafraid to draw blood. His breath was hot in the other's mouth as his hands desperately tugged at his clothing. The heat building up inside of him made him feel like he was going to burst if he didn't have some form of release.
Again, it was easy for Munakata to read what the Red King wanted. He'd spent years trying to figure the man out, but he'd never expected him to make his demands – his needs – so prominent. He broke away, his agile fingers darting to unbutton his uniform, cringing slightly at the thought of it touching the shabby cell's floor. But that wasn't enough to take him from the moment, and Mikoto certainly wouldn't let him get away that easily.
It didn't take the Blue King long to shed his clothing, leaving only his pants. While Mikoto was following suit, Munakata moved to distract him. One hand was at the Red's fly, and his mouth was at his neck again, seeking to further embellish those marks that essentially claimed him. "You're too slow," he murmured, faintly amused.
Out of frustration, Mikoto practically tore his shirt from his body and it took Munakata every fibre in his being not to buck his hips as the man suddenly gripped his member through his pants. The Bluet hissed slightly, his hands trailing over the Red King's form. His skin was warm and soft, and every movement made his muscles ripple beneath Munakata's fingertips.
"You're not hard enough yet," Mikoto teased in return, tongue flicking into Munakata's ear. He felt a shudder run down the man's body and he smirked. The pressure of their bodies at that close proximity, bare skin on bare skin, was pushing him closer to the edge. He tried to restrain himself, palming the Bluet through his pants and breathing hotly on his neck.
Gulping, Munakata forced himself to pry Mikoto's hand away, feeling a hot rush spread throughout his body. He whisked his glasses from his face and deposited them safely under the bed, where they wouldn't be crushed. Ignoring the quizzical glance from Mikoto, he paused to admire the man, to self-indulge for a lingering moment. He licked his lips, his eyes sweeping over the Red King's body as he pinned the man down again, their lips meeting in an almost furious passion. It was as if a time limit had been placed on their time together and they wanted to make the most of this long-awaited encounter. Munakata wanted to speed things up, he wanted to drag things out, he didn't know what he wanted to do – just something more than this.
Mikoto let out a faint groan, his hips grinding against Munakata's rhythmically, but much slower than their frantic kissing. Sucking his tongue, biting hit lip, pulling his hair. He held Munakata against his body, needing to be closer. One hand was firmly planted in the small of his back, the other squeezing his waist slightly. The Red's breath hitched, his heart pounding against his ribcage as Munakata pulled away, his hand gliding over Mikoto's chest, trailing over his abdominals and pausing just below his navel.
"Did you really come here...just to talk some sense into me?" Mikoto wondered vaguely, his voice low and thick with lust as he locked eyes with Munakata, whose only response was a smirk. Mikoto couldn't take much more. His pants were already too tight for his liking. His hands reached for his fly, but Munakata batted them away.
Munakata unzipped Mikoto's pants at a rate that was painfully slow, even to him. The expression on Mikoto's face told him to hurry things up, but Munakata preferred to take his time removing the redhead's pants and truly savour it. His fingers wrapped gently around the Red King's member, running the length of it as he dragged his teeth along Mikoto's collarbone. Munakata's fingertips trailed the underside of his cock, and he noticed Mikoto's breathing hitch again. Carefully, he used his thumb to play with the head of the Red's member, gliding the skin back and forth slowly. He would have preferred more time to learn how Mikoto reacted to things, but he could tell the man didn't have the patience to experiment.
With half lidded eyes, Mikoto bucked into the Bluet's hand movements, silently urging him on. Another groan, louder this time, escaped his throat as Munakata bit his shoulder, stroking him faster. The pleasure came in waves, slowly washing over him in small bursts. To Munakata's credit, he was quite talented with his hands.
The Red King's heart just about faltered when Munakata's hand paused and he began kissing his way down his chest. He combed the Bluet's soft hair with his fingers, feeling a tingling sensation leap up his spine as the man's tongue travelled from the base of his member to the tip, his mouth gently surrounding the head and his tongue flicking up teasingly.
Munakata's slender fingers traced the vein, overlapping the course of his tongue. He glanced up at the Red King, who was propped up on his elbows, almost twitching with anticipation. He stroked the length for a moment longer, sucking lightly, before he took the whole thing in his mouth. Mikoto couldn't even groan, instead emitting a weak noise of pleasure and tangling his fingers more solidly in Munakata's hair.
Beads of sweat dripped down Mikoto's forehead as his body arched into Munakata. He was reaching his breaking point now, so close to climaxing, he was burning up. Panting, he tossed his head back, struggling for breath against the waves of pleasure that were now crashing down on him. Munakata sensed this, and his pace quickened, his skill almost redefining itself. Somehow it still wasn't enough. Despite his best efforts to hold back, the redhead used his grip in Munakata's hair to pull him in, forcing himself further down the man's throat.
Munakata hardly bat an eyelash as Mikoto thrust suddenly deeper into his mouth, his pulsating cock leaking slightly. He'd been expecting something like this. He reaffirmed his efforts to protect the Red's member from his teeth, making a low humming sound in the back of his throat that vibrated down the other.
With a violent shudder and a brief grunt, Mikoto released himself. His mind was numb with ecstasy, his vision going blank for a split second. His entire body felt vaguely tingly, a slight prickling sensation as warmth spread throughout him. He felt tired and drained of energy, but he managed to pull himself upright to face Munakata.
The Bluet smirked up at him, wiping his mouth. He hadn't particularly wanted to swallow, but he wouldn't dare spit in front of the Red King. He'd already gone past the point of redemption today. He sat up slowly, his hand crawling to the back of Mikoto's neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.
"Your turn," Mikoto mumbled against Munakata's cheek, his hand already fumbling with his zipper. He was surprised, and a little irritated, to find his hands being pried away a second time. He glared at the Blue King.
"Next time," Munakata whispered, kissing Mikoto's cheek gently as if that would resolve things. Mikoto made another grab for him, but he was already up and moving, retrieving his clothes from where they'd been carelessly tossed on the dirty floor.
Mikoto opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. He didn't want to say there won't be a next time because he didn't exactly want that to be true. His chest was still heaving and he just wanted to sleep – it was too much trouble to think before speaking. "Then not at all," he mumbled, flopping backwards on the bed and facing the wall, assuming the position he'd been in when the Blue King had first arrived. Except now he hadn't bothered to put his clothes back on.
"So be it," Munakata murmured quietly, fastening the last button of his shirt. He waited a moment longer, waiting for Mikoto to say something else. If the man had asked him to stay, he probably would have considered it. But nothing else was forthcoming. From the steady breathing, Munakata could tell Mikoto had already fallen asleep.
With a sigh, the Blue King's eyes glossed over the lazy man – the naked Red King – one last time before he reluctantly made the hand motion that opened the cell. The walls creaked, their structure shuffling to allow Munakata to leave. He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder. He exited the cell, the walls resealing themselves, and he didn't look back.
A/N: I guess I've never really tried to write good smut before, haha. I hope this was ok. If I get around to it, I'll probably add more...eventually.