He's suffocating, but he can't get his face out of the pillow just yet—No, not until it's over, not until he regains some control over his vocal cords.
Raiden has accepted the fact that he's a little... loud during sex. But that he accepts it doesn't mean he likes it, and he loathes it even more now that they're living in an apartment where he swears the walls are made of tissue paper. He secretly envies Sam—He has always had an easier time being quiet, effortlessly controlling his voice and turning his groans into subtle huffs and gasps, only letting out the slightest purr when he's feeling specially good. Even with his teeth tightly biting the pillow like his life depends on it, the neighbors would sooner hear his moans before Sam's.
"Hmg—!"
Just when he thinks the other man's going to give him a break so he can get some air, he feels a known, delightful heat radiating across his nerves and his whole body quivers. There, there he whispers, desperate, letting go of the pillow only for a moment, and he knows Sam hears him because he insists on the same spot, once, twice, thrice—and Raiden's thighs start trembling as he buries his face in the pillow again, more moans born from the heat in his belly making their way out of his throat. He tightens to bring Sam closer to the edge, so he doesn't finish alone, and the sharp inhalation behind him tells him it's working. His knees feel sore and his legs tired, but he refuses to give into Sam's pounding, because if he lets his whole body lie flat on the mattress he knows he's positively going to pass out before they even finish.
And that wasn't too sexy the last time it happened.
Just as he starts wondering why does he even let Sam top so often, Raiden feels his fingers wrap around his cock and squeeze to the point that it hurts. He doesn't protest, though, because dragging this out longer will only increase the number of complaints from their neighbors the next morning. In less than a minute, he comes into Sam's hand with a muffled mewl and a similar, rougher growl vibrates behind him, a formless, liquid warmth rushing into him. Then, a heavy weight that drops right beside him with a 'oomph', and Raiden allows himself a long, cooling breath of fresh air, legs giving out and body relaxing as he lays on his belly, spent.
"So... how long do you think it'll take them to ask us to leave for going at it too often?" He asks when his mind finally clears out, and Sam's eyebrows curve upwards.
"I don't see why they should kick us out—I thought we were quiet enough."
Raiden pats the mattress. "'Bed sure wasn't."
"Oh..." He says, then shrugs. "Well, you were the one who didn't want to get a futon."
"I told you, it's not that I don't want to... I just really doubt they sell those here. Or if we could even afford one for that matter, considering almost all of our money goes to paying rent."
"Futons aren't that expensive, I think, but I do agree they're hard to find in this country."
Sam's fingers are playing with his hair again. It's a relaxing massage, and it makes him yawn. "We were lucky this place included the bed... even if it's so small."
"Small isn't always a bad thing."
"Are you kidding me? Every day I fear I'm gonna wake up on the floor."
"I offered you to sleep on this side, remember?"
"Yeah, but then I fear I'm gonna wake up crushed between your body and the wall."
Now he's smiling, and so is Sam. "I like that it's small. It lets me do this."
Raiden allows himself be turned to his side, too sleepy to complain, and Sam's arm slides under him. He finds himself hugged from behind, the Brazilian's breath on the back of his head, his nose buried in his hair. It's a position he's well-accustomed to—The only way they both fit in the bed without any limbs hanging out.
But it's also a position that's dangerous, Raiden realizes, drowsiness disappearing when Sam's naked chest presses against his back.
"Hnn. It's... fine I guess."
He thinks he hid tension in his voice well enough, but Sam's confused tone proves him wrong: "Hm? You don't like it?"
Raiden shifts slightly, and he feels the man's belly on his lower back.
And lower he feels... other things...
"I-It's not... it's not that I don't like it, no..."
"...? Oh."
Shit.
"Could it be you're up for a second dance?"
Cursing his libido, Raiden only grumbles moodily and he can feel Sam's smile on his head, his hands already making their way to his stomach, then lower.
Back to the pillow it is.
The next morning they're woken up by the landlady with their first complaint from the neighbors next door. 'Please try to stop jumpng on the bed so much, at least during the night'she says, and winks with a giggle.
Sam, snickering, proposes they give the futon idea a try.
Raiden, ears a bright shade of red, proposes they leave the country, instead.
Thank you very much for reading! If you'd like a chinese translation of this story, you can find one in the following link: w w w .lofter.c(delete this) om/b log/yir aiden?act=dashbo ardclick_20130514_04 God why does this site have to make this so hard. Thanks to yiraiden/BlackJulyWathcer for this!