A/N - this is my first dmmd fic!~ i welcome reviews and constructive criticism (anything that will make my writing better!) but if you're just going to post hate, don't waste your time (◕‿◕✿) other than that, please enjoy and tell me what you think~
They are in bed together and Koujaku is admiring Aoba's hair as he always does; his eyes are heavily lidded as he rests his head in the crook where Aoba's neck meets his shoulder, breathing in the heady scent. Today's aroma is green apple.
Koujaku knows how sensitive Aoba's hair is. He has ached to cut it for so long – and yet, when he feels the soft tendrils loop over his face, finds that he is rather content with how it is now.
"Aoba," he moans, breathing deeply.
"Hmm?" the bluenette murmurs. His eyes are closed but he is not tired as of yet. Their routine usually dictates an hour or so of television and fooling around before bed. And they had already done the former.
"Your hair…"
Aoba sighs. "Is divine," he finishes for him. "You've already told me today. At least five times."
Koujaku chuckles and plants a kiss on the other's collarbone. "And you would do well to remember it."
Koujaku snakes a hand underneath the duvet, his fingers brushing the small tuft of hair that is scattered along Aoba's lower abdomen. He gasps and suddenly feels wide awake, skin breaking out into gooseflesh as his lover traces a feather light pattern on his skin. This usually precedes sex, so when Koujaku leans up to whisper in his ear, his stomach clenches excitedly at his words.
"I want to try something new."
Aoba looks blankly at him, stuttering his words. "Like – like what?"
Koujaku says nothing, simply smiling crookedly as he always did when he felt mischievous. He reaches up and plucks a tendril of Aoba's hair from where it lay on his naked chest, allowing the blue strands to fall between his fingers. A peculiar sensation shoots down the strands and Aoba's scalp receives the message. Koujaku does this several more times and Aoba slowly grows used to the feeling of his hair being toyed with, a heavy sigh rushing from his mouth as the sensation becomes an enjoyable one. Smiling at the blissful look on his lover's face and groin tightening with anticipation, Koujaku gently rakes a well-practiced hand over Aoba's forehead and to his crown. The bluenette's eyes snap open in surprise as small electrical currents reach the roots of his hair. It is different but exciting, and he knows that Koujaku respects him enough to stop when asked to. But he allows his lover to continue for a time. Having his sensitive hair toyed with in such a loving manner is pleasant. He trusts Koujaku with, as much as he does with his life.
Watching Aoba's face, Koujaku lowers his free hand and steadily begins to pump at the hardness there. Aoba flexes involuntarily at the sudden contact and groans. Shivers of pleasure roll down his spine at the overwhelming sensations in his hair accompanied by those in his cock. Koujaku rubs the head with his thumb, smearing pearly precum across the tip. When he ceases contact Aoba cracks open his eyes to look at him – only for them to widen as the other slowly sucks on his thumb, cleaning it of Aoba's cum.
"Mmm," he moans appreciatively, relishing the tangy taste.
Aoba whines pitifully. More so when Koujaku gently tugs on a handful of hair while he continues to pump his lover's cock. The bluenette arches his back, a delicious pain shooting through his hair and his scalp – but it is good pain and he wants Koujaku more than ever.
"Kou-Koujaku," he pants after some time. "I'm close."
At this, the other ceases all contact; he frees his hand ensnared by Aoba's hair and allows the bluenette's cock to fall back onto his stomach, leaving a small pool of precum behind.
Aoba is outraged. "What –?"
"Patience," says Koujaku, though it is more of a purr. Like that of a predatory cat, he crouches low, keeping Aoba's eye contact and he begins to trail deliberate, torturous licks up the ridge of Aoba's cock, speaking slowly in between each one.
"I'm going ride you, Aoba," he says, speaking a low baritone so that his words reverberate deliciously off the smooth skin of his lover's cock. The bluenette gasps sharply at these words and his shaft flexes, oozing more pearly liquid. Koujaku catches it with the tip of his tongue and, grinning up at Aoba in a way that makes the other feel a thrill of excitement and foreboding, Koujaku envelopes the entirety of his lover's length in one, relishing the way the shaft hits the back of his throat as he bobs his head up and down, deliberately letting loose more saliva so that slurping noises are resonant in the quiet room.
Aoba tips his head back into the pillow he is laying on, reflexively jolting his hips to force Koujaku to take more of him. He does not gag much and if it is uncomfortable he doesn't say, and instead reaches up to gently pull Aoba's hair, mingling pleasure and pain once again. With his free hand, he takes hold of his own length, pumping slowly, coaxing himself to full, aching hardness. He doesn't look up when he hears a soft sucking sound but sighs heavily through his nose when Aoba sits up to reach around to his lover's ass. He probes the puckered skin gently, prising the ring of muscle open slowly with a single digit, before inserting another. Koujaku grunts and pushes back, now freeing his hand from Aoba's hair to massage his balls now wet with saliva.
"I – I'm close again," the bluenette whispers, somewhat embarrassed, though not wanting to ruin the evening. His sense are heightened by his lover wanting to be taken, and the thought of being inside Koujaku's ass is enough to bring him to the edge.
Slowly, Koujaku extracts the cock from his mouth, looking up at Aoba with a warm smile playing about his mouth. His lips are moist from the blowjob and he sits up to kiss Aoba passionately, allowing him to taste himself.
"Are you ready?" he whispers when they break apart.
Nodding, Aoba steadily lowers himself back down on the bed, his cock standing out shamelessly. Koujaku straddles him and he can see the quick rise and fall of the blunette's chest, quivering slightly in anticipation. Painstakingly slow, Koujaku positions his lover's member against his entrance; he, too, is nervous, knowing how much pain Aoba had been in when Koujaku first took him – but, strangely, he knows that he wants to feel the pain, to know that it is real, and to fight through it to the pleasure that he knew lay in wait.
Aoba's cock is slick and, quickly spitting into his hand and coating his asshole, Koujaku begins to lower himself down onto the cock below him. He grits his teeth; the pain is horrendously sharp and he tenses, but then Aoba's soft hands begin pumping his cock and massaging his chest and allows him to relax once again. It takes all of Aoba's self-control not to wildly thrust up, his lust for Koujaku running deep in his body – even more so when his lover finally takes the entirety of his shaft, the taught muscle of his walls clinging to his length desperately. It's almost all too much; especially when Koujaku slowly rocks back and forth, growing accustomed to the fullness. The ravenette groans whilst Aoba whimpers, clutching onto Koujaku's hips as if for dear life. Koujaku smiles down at him, his eyes lidded and lustful, trailing his hands up Aoba's chest, ghosting over his neck before softly clutching a handful of sensitive hair in each fist. Then he pulls ever so slightly and electricity shoots down the strands repeatedly and Aoba suddenly mirrors this move, his own hands travelling up his lover's back whilst he is bowed against him and rocking more vigorously against his cock, making sure to scratch the tattooed skin. Koujaku hisses but voices no objection, his teeth gritted once again, but then suddenly Aoba winds his fingers through the dark locks and he pulls, hard, and begins a slow, thrusting rhythm.
"Aoba," is all Koujaku manages to say, wanting to feel an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure, and so raises his hips to slam back down on Aoba's cock, each time the bluenette tightening his grip on his lover's hair, partly for Koujaku to feel the pain but also to distract himself from orgasming too soon.
"Nyeh – fuck," Aoba hisses, desperately clawing the front of Koujaku's chest to keep himself grounded.
Koujaku increase his tempo, rolling his hips in a circular motion until Aoba's cock finds that desperately sought out pearl of pleasure. He slams down on his lover's cock so that it repeatedly hits his prostate, moaning aloud and unconsciously winding blue strands of hair tighter around his fingers. Aoba says nothing; the ecstasy he feels outweighs the sensitivity of his hair but it is an intoxicating combination and he finds himself gripping Koujaku's hips again to bring himself deeper inside him.
"Kou-Koujaku," he whimpers, keeping himself at the brink of orgasm but in danger of tipping over. "I – I'm going to come."
Koujaku brings his mouth close to the whorls of the bluenette's ear, his voice breathy and ragged, one of his hands now pumping furiously at his own cock. "Come for me, Aoba."
His words are Aoba's undoing. He moans, whines, almost cries as he comes, spilling his hot seed into his lover's ass, his vision deteriorating for a few seconds as everything is a blur in this state of pure ecstasy. It is almost too much for him to bear but Koujaku brings him back down as he follows, trails of white cum splattering the pale torso below him. His cock gives several long bursts and a guttural groan escapes his lips and then it is over.
Panting but smiling, Koujaku dismounts his lover, Aoba's slightly softened member slipping free. Koujaku winces at the sharp pain but it passes quickly and he settles next to Aoba once again. The bluenette curls around his partner, his head on his chest, neither of them caring about the mess being left on the bed sheets; they are exhausted now, their chests still heaving, seeking out each other's company. The intimacy that follows sex is more Aoba's field than Koujaku's. Nevertheless, the latter still partakes in what Aoba refers to as 'cuddling', finding it immensely enjoyable.
"That was…" Aoba trails off, words failing him.
"Different?" his lover suggests.
Aoba sighs suggestively. "Certainly something," he says and a low chuckle rumbles in Koujaku's chest.
Aoba opens his mouth to say something else but finds, in his sleep befuddled state, that his mind muddles his thoughts. Instead, he murmurs something incoherently and his eyes close and his breaths become heavy. He feels the spine-tingling sensation of Koujaku carding his fingers through his hair, expertly delicate from his hairdressing skills, and finds himself idly reminiscing back to Koujaku's own hair being wound in his fist and that, soon, he would rather like to try the whole thing again.