tags: aged-up charas, established relationship, oral sex, consensual somnophilia, pwp

a/n: written for mikura day (2/6)


There's a lucid tinge of warmth Kuramochi senses from deep within his slumber, a cascading trickle of ardor sticking to (what he can fleetingly imagine, from within his fogged dream-world) is his flesh; can feel a foreign dampness, like rivulets of dew hiding from scorching mid-summer weather, beading along wherever the foreign warmth is touching. Kuramochi is startled, almost, in how he can nearly exactly perceive the heat lingering from the ticklish skin of his jaw and then down, down, down, until the sensations are but flecks of ember along his extremities. Briefly, the idea of the warmth not being a part of his dream - vaguely aware that he's still asleep, caught in an odd limbo of wakefulness and dormancy - but the thought flickers just as quickly out of his mind as it had appeared. Sparks of molten sweetness collect from the center of his chest and bolts its way to his lower belly, mind muddled by the increasingly pressing feelings of hot feels good kazuya don't stop.

Wetness envelops what he faintly senses as something of his that is throbbing, acute to the tide of relief that washes over him when the searing heat turns slick and pleasantly so. Increasingly growing conscious, Kuramochi reaches the beginning stages of cognizance, slow to recognizing that the familiar wetness he feels is a mouth, most likely from the tongue swiping at his skin, busying itself on his erection. He's confused at the moment when his last thought properly processes through his mind again – erect? him? wasn't he still asleep? – until he feels something very sharp grab at his skin, blunt like fingernails scrabbling for purchase against the flesh of his hips. The action leaves his nerves tingling, as does the all too vivid sensation of his arousal hitting the back of the throat of whoever it is that's taken to sucking him off.

Kuramochi inhales deeply, can feel his body shuddering with growing attention, eyelids fluttering in their battle to remain closed shut. They lose the fight, however, and he winds up slowly blinking open to the waking world; there is a swathe of grogginess still clouding his head, a blanket of residual sleep dulling his usually sharp senses. Even so, Kuramochi is clear-headed enough to make out the disheveled tufts of brown hair currently pressed between his bent knees; attentive to the proficiency in which the mouth suckles him, deep and fluid, his own mouth drawing in quick, dry breaths when the pressure around his erection increases, tight and hot.

It is only then, when Kuramochi physically feels his throat rumble, a pleasured growl slurring together kazuya wait i can't, that he truly registers the familiar face looking up at him when he bucks up into his mouth, awaiting and pliant.

Silence follows for a few seconds shortly after Kuramochi has exhaled his last shaky breath, back arched and hips tilted up in Miyuki's direction; gulping down his come until Kuramochi's hips finally pull away, his mouth hovering still over Kuramochi's flagging erection.

A thick line of ejaculate hazardously falls from Miyuki's swollen, ruby-red lips; he notices how Kuramochi seems to have fully awoken now at the sight, purposely hangs his mouth a little more open so the rest of what he hadn't swallowed pools at the edges of his teeth and down his chin. Kuramochi groans, less tense but no less sharp than when he had unknowingly come into Miyuki's mouth, tiredly maneuvering one of his arms so he can thread his hand into the mess that is Miyuki's bedhead. With little effort does Kuramochi tilt Miyuki's head so he can properly face him, or at least as properly as he can get Miyuki to from his position, and fixes him with an increasingly aware look.

"Kazuya," Kuramochi breathes out heavily, a sluggish squint in his eyes that causes the twinkle in Miyuki's expression to convert into self-delight. "you've got to stop sucking my dick while I'm asleep."

Suddenly Miyuki's mouth twists into a grin, elated and deviant, completely disregards the fluid that escapes his mouth to dribble down his chin. Some droplets manage to fall and litter Kuramochi's skin, leaves his flesh feeling hot and sticky even as Miyuki tilts his face down to lick them off. His endeavor ends up making more of a mess instead, however; the pleased look that presents itself on Miyuki's features tells Kuramochi it was purposeful.

"Am I expected not to take you sleeping nude as an invitation?" He quips back, still allowing the hand Kuramochi has in his hair to tilt his head.

"You know perfectly well that I always sleep like this." Kuramochi laughs a little when Miyuki's face lights up. "Ugh, get over here."

Crawling up until he reaches Kuramochi's chin, Miyuki flicks his tongue out to tease at the seam of his mouth. "But it was a nice way to wake up, wasn't it." Miyuki phrases, more of a comment and less of a question as he happens to press a leg against Kuramochi's groin.

A playful snort leaves Kuramochi shortly after his body shivered in reaction to the caress, skin still sensitive. While it certainly wouldn't be the first time Miyuki had done such a thing (and definitely not the last), it understandably left Kuramochi surprised, despite that he had been the one to give permission to Miyuki in the first place. At the time, Kuramochi had thought letting Miyuki get him off while he was asleep would save him the overall trouble of waking up at whatever ungodly hour Miyuki liked to wake up just to get Kuramochi to fuck him. The hard press of Miyuki's erection, branding against the surface of Kuramochi's stomach, is more than enough to prove his miscalculation.

Skimming his hand to meet the trapped bulge tenting Miyuki's night-pants, Kuramochi darts a look over at him, inquisitive and considerate, before Miyuki seems to take the hint and rolls onto his back. Kuramochi kisses him, slow and languid, ignores the heady taste of himself in Miyuki's mouth when he traces the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He almost grins into the kiss when he feels Miyuki buck up into the hollow of his hip, impatient, further emphasized by the voracity in which he sucks Kuramochi's tongue. A small chuckle chimes through Miyuki's nose once Kuramochi's pulled back, ticklish to the way Kuramochi grazes the sharp turn of his nose against the cut of his jaw, leaving a handful of open-mouthed kisses there before roving down. Sat on the breadth of one of Miyuki's legs, Kuramochi plays with the bare expanse of flesh Miyuki's torso presents; licks his lips to roam over the sinewy creases of muscle that make up his chest, dragging the flat of his tongue against flushed skin. When he reaches his nipples Kuramochi teases them briefly, a diluted mischief shining in his eyes when he bites down on them, overtly pleased by the excited exhale Miyuki gives.

Miyuki interestedly tilts his head towards Kuramochi, mouth pressed into a curious shape as Kuramochi slinks lower, his tongue quick to lave at each inch of skin presented to him on his way. When Kuramochi reaches his abdomen he teases the tender skin near his belly-button with his nose and skims his teeth along the thinner patch of trailing hair. Miyuki's breath comes in quick, sharp successions; darts a hand out to clutch at Kuramochi's hair, though to get him stop or continue, Miyuki is unsure himself. He doesn't need to make the choice because Kuramochi peers up at him from beneath his thick eyelashes, expression incisive and impish when he places a chaste kiss on his hip, right above the waistband of his pants. Kuramochi glances at Miyuki a final time before leaning down and outright mouthing at his arousal through the cloth, only for a moment, content at the full-body shudder Miyuki presents in response.

Bringing his fingers together to a soft pinch, Kuramochi outlines the thick curve of Miyuki's erection and revels in the low, dragged-out moan he makes. He licks his lips before sticking his tongue out and suckling at Miyuki's dick through the barrier of his pajama bottoms, thin enough that he can very nearly feel the precum dribble out as he actually tastes it. The hands that thread into his hair, harsh and unrelenting, only spurn Kuramochi on; sneaks his tongue into the open hole of Miyuki's pants that is solely fastened close by a single button sewn at the front. Miyuki keens, brings his legs up to a bend around Kuramochi, inviting him into the broader space between them before bucking down and up into the welcoming heat of Kuramochi's mouth. The wetness of his tongue meets the thick swelter of Miyuki's dick, peeking through the open fold of fabric and Kuramochi encourages its way out towards him with his hands.

"Youichi." Miyuki breathes, mouth feeling weighted with every touch Kuramochi gives to his erection, light and playful. "Youichi, stop teasing."

Kuramochi gives a small hum to assure Miyuki he's listening, grins with his teeth like a wolf that's caught his prey when he's finally maneuvered the body of his arousal out of the front hole of his pajamas. Miyuki's voice breaks into a string of taut vowels, incoherent and meaningless but he can't bring himself to stop, not when Kuramochi presses a series of kisses from the base to the tip. Clenching his hands tighter in Kuramochi's tresses, Miyuki thrusts his hips up into Kuramochi's awaiting mouth, quivering on a broken moan as Kuramochi laps at his precum.

Sliding his eyelids shut, Kuramochi fully takes Miyuki's dick into his mouth in a single, fluid motion; leaves Miyuki gasping for air when he lowers to wrap his lips around him. His rhythm is slow at first, lets Miyuki adjust to the feeling before he's moving faster, breathing through his nose when he moves up with every upward-bob and caressing the fleshy skin of his glans with the jagged ends of his teeth. Kuramochi doesn't miss the whimper Miyuki tries to hide, continues to weave his head up and down in an even tempo, continuing to drag his teeth against the upper half of Miyuki's shaft and takes delight in the increasingly brusque hold Miyuki has on his hair for it.

Wrapping a free hand around the base of Miyuki's erection, Kuramochi shifts up so now he's focusing on the head of it, the pace of his mouth a stark contrast to the slow movements of his hand. Dragging his tongue out from where it was pressed against the curve of his mouth, Kuramochi instead glides it so it's twisted around the crown of Miyuki's dick, uses it to increase the suctioning force his mouth has when he draws his lips together, tight. Miyuki has zero control over the broken keen of Youichi he sobs out then, nor of the orgasm that jolts its way through him as Kuramochi peers up at him, not pulling off.

Miyuki comes fast and hard into Kuramochi's mouth that's still drawn closed, hands taut in his hair with every small thrust he makes.

Kuramochi is patient as he waits for Miyuki to finish, using his hand to lazily stroke whatever part of Miyuki his mouth was unable to cover. He mistakenly pulls off of Miyuki a second too soon, however, and a final stream of ejaculate manages to land between his cheek and open mouth. Miyuki's hands scrabble lose from their purchase of Kuramochi's hair, chest still heaving as his body slumps down against the warm comfort of the bed, face slightly apologetic even in his current stupor.

"Shit, sorry." Miyuki starts, words light but rough like unrefined sugar lodged in his throat. "I didn't mean to –" the rest of his words cling to his teeth when he finally blinks the haze from his eyes and catches sight of Kuramochi, ropes of white liquid decorating his euphoric expression.

Bringing his hand up to brush against the mess on his face, Kuramochi catches Miyuki's gaze as he does so, huskily breathing out "You let out so much."

Features coloring into a bright pink, Miyuki can only stare at Kuramochi in awe; any silver-tongued retort he had sitting at the edge of his mind forgotten. He watches Kuramochi lick the fluid clean off his hand, neither breaking eye contact as he does so until Kuramochi is leaning back down, mouth hovering over his softening dick still pulled out of the open hole of his pajamas. Miyuki whimpers when Kuramochi grasps at the waistband of his pants, hardly any effort needed as he pulls them down; Kuramochi pausing for a moment to admire the wet mess that's become of his inner thighs, slick and hot with come and drool. Miyuki lifts his legs in compliance to Kuramochi's hands and watches in minute abashment to how softly Kuramochi marvels him, sleep-warm fingers caressing the broader muscles of his thighs to his slighter calves. When Kuramochi glances up to meet his gaze, Miyuki feels his breath catch, tongue like lead in his mouth as Kuramochi kisses his way up his now-bent legs, pecks the supple skin of his knees and stops when he's situated between them.

There's a faint flutter that tickles Miyuki's chest, possibly his heart (in the metaphorical sense, given that his actual beating heart feels like it's going to slam out of his ribs); the glimmer of emotion, soothing and exhilarating at once, multiplying when Kuramochi lowers his head, teasingly dragging the edges of his teeth along the quivering inner muscles of his thighs.

Miyuki's unsure of what it is Kuramochi's up to – accustomed to cuddling up against him post-sex – but his question is soon answered. Without a shred of hesitance, Kuramochi finishes trailing his teeth down his balls, playfully biting at the taut skin of his perineum before moving back up and wrapping his mouth over the base of Miyuki's dick. Miyuki shivers, hips twitching towards the welcoming warmth of Kuramochi's mouth as it shifts up, his tongue slowly unfurling from its hiding place to use the come he still has caught on the curl of his tongue to help slick his way.

"W-wait, Youichi," Miyuki whines, incapable of feeling embarrassed with every expert suck Kuramochi gives. "h-hold on, I just, I just came."

Peeking up from his half-hooded eyes, Kuramochi only responds by taking Miyuki in deeper. Gasping, Miyuki chokes on the quick intake of air he's breathed in as Kuramochi draws his mouth tight, hollows his cheeks when the head of Miyuki's dick hits the back of his throat. His body is still so sensitive but recognizes the familiarity of Kuramochi's touches; it takes Miyuki next to no time at all to get fully hard again with how deep Kuramochi's taken him into his mouth, makes him tremble in sudden jolts. There are words streaming out of his mouth, garbled in the haste in which he speaks them, Miyuki himself unsure of whatever it is he's saying until he hears the pleading tone he's using, outright begging. His legs press into the mattress beneath him, quaking from the force that he does so, the heels of his feet alternating between digging into the tangled mess of bed-sheets and kicking out in involuntary shudders.

Hands finding purchase in Kuramochi's mussed hair, Miyuki growls out brokenly, "Ah, fuck, Youichi, I'm going to–"

Although Kuramochi's mouth is still tightly wrapped around his erection, the bow of his lips meeting the base of his dick, Miyuki can practically hear the words Kuramochi would say from the sharp but earnest look in his eyes – come for me, kazuya.

Fingers curling tight into the thick thatch of Kuramochi's hair, Miyuki's grip helps keep him in place, makes it easier for him to fuck into his mouth. Kuramochi easily accepts his full girth, searing and heavy in his mouth and on his tongue; teases one of Miyuki's hands out of his hair to rest against the side of his cheek. Miyuki groans from deep within his chest, the sound resonating above the wet sucking sounds Kuramochi is making, over how the hand he has pressed against Kuramochi's face allows him to feel the outline of himself from inside Kuramochi. The effect is visceral, leaves Miyuki panting heavily, back arched tautly as he bucks into Kuramochi's mouth until everything is too much again; Kuramochi's tongue, his teeth, his heat.

Kuramochi is entirely mindful that Miyuki coming for a second time does not constitute the typical definition of "cute"; acknowledges to some internal extent that, in any other situation, he unerringly would have appeared self-assured at the act (though, if anything, to set Miyuki off). He finds that there is something entirely different about their current situation, however. Kuramochi can't help but think that no other word he knows of could properly explain what he feels as Miyuki shouts Youichi so loudly his voice breaks at the second syllable. The way Miyuki's face amalgamates with pleasure and shock, his head thrown back not at all preventing Kuramochi from catching his flushed expression, entirely laced with bewilderment and bliss.

Kuramochi is certain that nothing aside from "cute" could rightfully depict Miyuki in that moment: off-guard and honest and thoroughly fucked-out.

Miyuki's body doesn't stop quivering for a few moments; Kuramochi soothingly runs the flats of his palms over the curves of his legs, quietly swallowing whatever come was left on his tongue and giving Miyuki's softening erection a final suck before pulling off to nuzzle into the thick muscles still spasming from his orgasm. There's a bone-deep satisfaction Kuramochi feels when he sees Miyuki watch him, head still tilted to the side, mouth hung wide open, amber eyes reflecting how sated he must undoubtedly be. A glitter of laughter leaves Kuramochi, more like a hum than his usual cackles, when he mouths his way up Miyuki's legs a final time until the other twitches his hips away.

"I wasn't aware there'd be a round three." Miyuki breathes out in amusement, the streaks of sweat and ejaculate that had perceptibly littered his body before now painting his skin in a light afterglow.

Bringing his body into a half-bend, Kuramochi suckles the skin of Miyuki's inner-thighs a final time, nips into the sensitive flesh with the pointed tips of his canines. Miyuki whines quietly against the damp mess of the pillow and bed-sheet underneath him, angles Kuramochi a pointed look that prompts the latter to ultimately crawl up until he is tucked into the open space beside Miyuki.

"Neither was I, but let me know if you're interested." Kuramochi replies, a vested gleam of mischief lingering in his expression when Miyuki snorts.

"Don't really think I can get hard again anytime soon, thanks." Miyuki doesn't miss the self-satisfied grin that flickers on Kuramochi's face. "Monster."

Kuramochi chuckles, nasal and free-spirited, leaves Miyuki feeling weak and boneless more so than his climax had when Kuramochi leans into him so that their foreheads are pressed together.

"Uh-huh, sure, says the guy who is probably never satisfied no matter how many times we have sex." There is a softness in Kuramochi's grin, tender and benevolent; the multitude of sentiments leaves Miyuki's heart softly aching in their wake.

Sneaking his legs into a tangle with Kuramochi's, Miyuki pleasantly presses himself into the expanse Kuramochi has left between them, snickering at the look of discontent that flashes on Kuramochi's face when still-wet come meets his skin.

"Kazuya, you fucking animal." Kuramochi laughs even as he wraps heavy hands around Miyuki, breath tickling the skin of Miyuki's upper-lip, foreheads still touching. "Seriously, what the hell was that?"

Although his words lack the bark and bite that typically accompany his jibes at Miyuki, Kuramochi somehow still manages to sound playful just as much as he is curious, a perfect picture of the enduring boyishness Miyuki had come to endear. Frankly, the sight of Kuramochi's softened smile crinkling the skin near his eyes and sound of his breathing, gentle and calming and grounding, has Miyuki's heart trembling in his chest. When Kuramochi leans that small bit forward, enough so that their noses brush in the softest manner, Miyuki can do nothing to stop the light pink blush that decorates his features.

"I just felt like it." He eventually responds, not entirely lying; ducks his head down so their foreheads are still touching, voice seizing in his throat when Kuramochi tilts his own head to follow suit. "You know, me and my insatiable libido."

"Yeah, right." He yawns, giggling tiredly when Miyuki waggles his brows at him in turn, before pressing Miyuki's body closer to his. "Maybe we need to get you fixed."

A deviant retort sits on the edge of Miyuki's mouth but never makes itself known when Kuramochi peers an eyelid open, smile still on his face, bright and small; makes Miyuki feel as though he's staring into an eternal moment of the sun breaking through the bleary grey skies of dawn. Reaching a hand out, Miyuki reflexively turns his face into Kuramochi's palm; is left unaware of the reverence in Kuramochi's eyes as he does so, Kuramochi left wondering if this is what it means to take hold of a star normally so far out of reach.

The two fall asleep like that, with Kuramochi requiring no guarantee that he'll be awoken by a lustful bed-partner once again; the way Miyuki has wrapped around him, legs and arms locked between his, is assurance enough.