Anon requested: "Reborn! YamaGoku. R to NC-17" God damnit. Resisting plot with these two is super painful. What am I even doing? Seriously.
Untitled
The room was dark, save for the small sliver of light that crept in from between flowing curtains. It was not moonlight, but a flickering street lamp, sending shadows across pale skin in an irregular beat.
It was hot. The remnants of a blistering summer's day were still in the air, clinging to bodies slick with sweat.
They had forgotten to turn on the fan.
They had not cared.
Strong hands pulled at Takeshi's belt and a warm tongue found his collar. He had known Hayato would be as formidable in this as he was in anything. His mind was quick and his mouth was clever. Hayato might not match Takeshi in strength, but oh, once his lips were on you, his tongue...
It was overwhelming.
Takeshi tried not to let months of pent up feelings and terrible, traitorous emotions show in his movements as he lowered himself onto the body beneath him. He would let Hayato lead. He would do whatever Hayato wanted and he would not say a word. Unless he was told to. He would obey the soft commands of faster and harder and would ignore the occasional growl of bastard in between.
"Ah, f-fuck…" Hayato whispered. The spill of warmth over Takeshi's fingers was like a prize. He followed shortly after, groaning softly into sliver hair and pulsing violently into Hayato's hand.
Breathless, shaking, Takeshi took a chance and kissed Hayato once on the lips. There was no resistance and so he did it again before he rolled to the side. He rested his head against the pillow.
Would he let Takeshi hold him?
Lying there in the dark, watching the line of Hayato's chest rise and fall, Takeshi reached out a hand and ran his fingers over young but hard-packed muscle.
When Hayato's hand moved, Takeshi pulled back.
Hayato caught it.
Lips pressed against his knuckles and Takeshi was sure he would cry.
But instead, he laughed.
END