Disclaimer: Free! Iwatobi Swim Club hasn't been mine these last two weeks I've been writing, and it hasn't started being mine now.
A/N: I am in my writing!cafe, and I actually managed to GET A TABLE this very busy New Year's Eve morning, so obviously this means it's fate that I should write. Yup. Logic. I has.
Warnings: Yaoi, smut, consensual rough, kinda marathon-y sex, what else. Some rimming, some fingering, oral, sex, just SMUT, okay? and lots of it y'all.
Dedicated to bramblerose4, because without her, this story wouldn't exist, for without her prompting, the thought to write what happens upon Haru's return wouldn't have spawned in my brain. So HERE WE GO.
••∞• Touch and Go •∞••
It's 3:50 PM on Friday afternoon, and Makoto is absolutely, one hundred percent certain that the station clock (or time, but he's still betting on the clock) has slowed down just to mock him.
Then again, it may very well have something to do with the fact that Makoto has been waiting at the station since 1 PM, but hey, who's counting?
Oh. Right.
Makoto flips open his phone for the second time that minute, just to be sure that the clock overhead isn't playing head games with him, and he lets out a pathetic groan when he sees that it is, in fact, still 3:50 PM and not 4 'o clock.
Makoto wants, needs it to be 4 'o clock, because the hard-on he's been sporting since practically this time yesterday?
It really. Really has to go.
Preferably, with Haru's help.
Because Haru is coming home today.
Haru is happily forgoing the last two days of a rare vacation with his parents, to come home to be with Makoto.
Haru is coming back.
Makoto swears he's tried feeling at least a little guilty about stealing Haru from his parents up in beautiful Hokkaido - but for the life of him, all Makoto can think about is Haru's promise, and how he intends to make sure he keeps good on it.
Hell, he even came up with a Very Important Project that's due on Monday that he's been sighing about to his parents and the twins all morning.
Which would explain why they wouldn't see hide nor hair of him til Monday afternoon.
Makoto's heart leaps into his throat at the sound of a not-so-distant whistle blaring, and he scrambles to his feet to hurry over from the bench he's been sitting so diligently at to the side of the platform.
He squints down the tracks in the distance; raising a hand to keep the sun from getting in his eyes and they widen as he watches the train make a turn and come into view, smoke gusting away in the wind as it approaches at full speed.
His heart, which was just beating wildly, starts pounding in time with the chugs and clacks of the train as it pulls into the station.
So, as the train slowly squeals to a stop, his heart starts to pound a little slower; only to burst into an erratic rhythm all over again as a familiar figure appears from the corner of his eye, and he spins around to watch Haru step fully out of the door just a few yards down.
Haru must feel Makoto's gaze, because immediately his head swings to the side and their eyes meet. Makoto's breath hitches at the look on Haru's face because…
Because Haru's usual cool, collected mask is splintering, and relief crashes over Makoto like a wave when the very same desperation is echoed, plain as day, on Haru's face.
Makoto startles at the sharp clack that echoes down the now bustling station, and more than a few heads turn to look as Haru sprints away from his forgotten bag, closing the distance to Makoto's arms, heedless of the smiles and giggles that raise around them - and Makoto buries his blushing face into the crook of Haru's neck, smiling stupidly.
"Hi Haru-chan," Makoto laughs, breathless, and he pulls back a little to try and catch a glimpse of Haru's face, his green eyes sparkling with happiness and maybe a few misty tears. "I missed you."
Haru's tiny nod against his shoulder is answer enough for Makoto, and the dark-haired teen clings closer, hugs him harder – squeezing tight enough to nearly make Makoto wince, but he's had years to perfect a tolerance to the many tight squeezes of overzealous twins, so he simply responds in kind.
"Let's get your bag?" Makoto suggests reluctantly, uncertainly, because this is certainly the longest that Haru has voluntarily clung to him and while he kind of loves it…
There's also a gaggle of giggling schoolgirls nudging each other (and…and does that one have a phone pointed at them?) and he doesn't think Haru would really appreciate their attention much, especially not when there are a few faces he distinctly recognizes.
Haru clings for another few moments before mumbling an assent and stepping back to their usual close proximity – but not without darting up to steal a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth, which Makoto happily turns into to make an actual kiss.
It makes Makoto touch his lips and blush harder as they pull back and smile, (and raises the girls' frantic whispering to a shriek crescendo). The blue-eyed swimmer turns his head to idly stare back at the giddy girls, before rolling his eyes slightly and grabbing Makoto's hand to drag him over towards his forlorn-looking bag.
"I'll get it, Haru-chan," Makoto protests when Haru goes to lift it up, "you've been pulling that thing along all morning, let me take it."
Haru doesn't argue, just shrugs, so Makoto grins at his small victory and bends down to retrieve it.
He isn't, however, expecting for Haru to catch hold of his collar when he's bent down to his level, and he pauses to glance up at Haru curiously, fingers curled loosely around the handle of the small bag.
"If they're so excited over a little kissing, I wouldn't want to see them if they knew what I'm going to do to you when we get home, Makoto," Haru whispers, and Makoto.
Well.
First, he chokes.
Then, when his brain starts up again, he realizes that they're already running to Haru's house, one hand clasped in Haru's, and the other curled tight around the handle of Haru's bag.
Makoto's sure they break a record making it back from the station to Haru's. Because while they were standing on the platform from somewhere from 4:01 to 4:05, they're back at Haru's in less.
"H-Haru, Haru, w-wait," Makoto splutters, gasping when Haru veritably tackles him up against the back door, and then he's moaning loudly into Haru's mouth.
Distantly, he hears the bag clatter to the ground for a second time that day, and he belatedly realizes it's because he dropped it to wrap his arms around Haru for purchase as he knees threaten to buckle.
"Don't want to wait any longer," Haru replies bluntly, and indeed his hands are already beneath Makoto's shirt, groping appreciatively over Makoto's already flushing skin. "Four days was too long," he adds in a lower mumble, as he nips down the side of Makoto's throat.
"I-I – we should, j-just," Makoto babbles, quickly growing more and more uncertain why he's protesting these ministrations that are quickly turning him into a melting mess of desperation and hormones.
He swallows thickly, and shakes his head a little even as it lolls back slightly, giving Haru better access, moaning when Haru latches onto a familiar, particularly sensitive spot. "Y-you should let your p-parents know you're b-back—a-and I told mine I'd tell them t-the minute you w-were ho-"
"They can wait," Haru interrupts easily, and Makoto swallows any further protests he may have when he swallows back a loud cry as Haru bites down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder—a lot harder than he usually does, and somehow it spends a spike of arousal thrumming through him like nothing he's ever felt. "We've waited long enough already."
Haru's words throw any last reservations Makoto may have out the window, and with a muffled groan Makoto fumbles blindly for the handle of the sliding door behind him. He makes a triumphant sound when his fingers close around the handle—a sound that quickly turns into a startled yelp when he falls backwards when Haru makes an unexpected, rather sudden leap for him.
There's about three seconds of stunned silence before the hallway is filled with laughter as they find themselves in a graceless pile on the floor.
The giggles cut off as suddenly as they start, however, because Haru crashes their mouths together, hard, and their teeth clack loudly, a little painfully.
Makoto inhales sharply when Haru's teeth catch his tongue, but everything feels so good, too good, even with the hints of pain that flare through the hazy pleasure.
Makoto tangles his hands in Haru's dark hair and tugs him in, closer, for more. He can't get enough of him. Not now, not ever.
Not when it's Haru, and he's finally finally backherenow.
"God, Haru," Makoto whimpers, hands fumbling to tug his shirt over his head as Haru nearly tears his own off, because they need to touch, more, five minutes ago, and they can't get naked soon enough.
A jolt of shocked arousal zips through Makoto when Haru pushes down his own shorts without preamble, because, "H-Haru," Makoto chokes out, dumbly.
"Um. You're not. Not."
"Underwear's too much work," Haru shrugs impatiently, clearly done with explaining himself, because the next thing Makoto knows, as he lets out a really unsexy squawk, is that he, too, is just as naked as Haru and he's being helped (tugged) up to his feet to rush down the now clothes-strewn hallway.
At first he thinks Haru's going to lead him up the stairs, as always, so he stumbles when he's instead yanked into the living room.
"Haru!" Makoto yelps as he tumbles down onto the couch, but his reprimand is cut off as Haru straddles him and unceremoniously lines his hips right up to Makoto's and grind their cocks together, making them both cry out.
"H-Haru—nggh, Haru, god," Makoto pants harshly as the smaller teen immediately starts up an unforgiving, almost punishing rhythm, one hand gripping the back of the sofa for leverage and the other curling into Makoto's soft brown strands as he gyrates their hips together.
"Wanted you, Makoto," Haru grits out through tightly clenched teeth, and his voice has gone low, and his tone is off, somehow, unfamiliar to Makoto, and he struggles to keep his eyes open to stare at Haru's face, searching it.
"Wanted you, yesterday. The day before that, too. And before that," Haru almost growls, and the sound goes straight to Makoto's cock.
"Missed you, missed you so much, Makoto."
Heat pools in Makoto's stomach, bright hot and coiling low in his belly as the hunger and desire on Haru's face glows plainly in his deep blue eyes, and Makoto arches up into his boyfriend's grinding, searching hips, shuddering.
"Missed you, t-too, Haru," Makoto manages breathlessly, a sharp cry escaping him when Haru's hand slides in-between their bodies to grasp his cock firmly, drawing whimper after whimper from Makoto's lips.
"W-wanted you, s-so bad," he moans weakly, canting his hips into Haru's hand, fingers scrabbling at Haru's shoulders.
Makoto keens loudly as Haru leans in to drag his teeth sharply down Makoto's neck, hard enough to hurt, and the tall brunet jerks beneath Haru's weight, nails dragging down Haru's spine as he lets out a strangled breath. Haru laves his tongue over the red, stinging scratches, and the pleasure races from Makoto's head to his toes and he squirms in a silent plea for more.
"Do you remember?" Haru murmurs against his skin, nipping along his clavicle, his mouth moving down downdown. "Do you remember what I promised you yesterday?"
Makoto's heart skips a beat, only to start racing a mile a minute.
"I—" Makoto winces at the way his voice cracks embarrassingly, and he licks his suddenly dry lips and starts again. "Y-yes."
There's a whirl of motion, and Makoto's gasping as the air rushes out of him as he's suddenly flopped over onto his stomach, and the breath is crushed momentarily out of him. He tilts his head to stare up at Haru from the corner of wide, green eyes, and he shivers at the heat in Haru's gaze.
"Tell me, Makoto," Haru murmurs, in a voice that Makoto's never heard before, but has him squirming beneath him. Makoto's fingers clutch at the material of the couch spastically as Haru's teeth graze down the nape of his neck—only to jerk as the raven-haired teen sucks hard there.
His pulse starts racing, and Makoto keens as he grinds his hips into the cushions of the sofa, and he hides his burning face as he feels precome leak steadily from his slit when Haru presses his cock into the cleft of Makoto's ass.
"Y-You s-said…" Makoto stammers, before his voice breaks into a long loud moan that ends in a high pitched cry as Haru starts to slowly rock against him in a very familiar rhythm that brings him from aroused to painfully hard in seconds. "Oh god Haru-!"
"Tell me. What. I said," Haru lilts, voice impossibly even as he slides his hands down Makoto's sides to grasp his hips tight as he punctuates his words with a slow slide of his cock between Makoto's cheeks, and the brunet sobs Haru's name hoarsely, trying to raise his hips to grind back.
"Ha-" Makoto chokes off, and it's all he can do to keep from screaming when Haru keeps his hips planted down firmly into the pillows to hold him there even as he moves against him. He takes a few sharp, raspy breathes before blurting out the words Haru wants to hear in a breathless whisper.
"Y-you promised to f-fuck me,"he swallows thickly, licking his lips and darting a look back up at Haru from the corner of his eye again, and his flush crawls down his neck to spread down his chest.
Haru makes a soft, noncommittal noise before leaning in to nuzzle his face into Makoto's shoulder.
"I think I said something else, something more," Haru almost drawls, and Makoto mashes his face against the pillows in embarrassment as his cock twitches in interest at Haru's almost apathetic tone that clashes starkly with the way he feels precome slicking Haru's almost lazy thrusts.
"Say it, Makoto," Haru demands more than asks this time, and Makoto sucks in a slow, shuddering breath to try and compose himself, and he's proud of the way his voice doesn't tremble.
"You promised to… make me cum. Twice before you fucked. Fucked me. Fucked me so hard I. I wouldn't walk for days."
He's rewarded with a chaste, almost innocent kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Makoto closes his eyes tight against the wave of arousal that thrums through him at the oddly gentle gesture.
"That's right, Makoto," Haru say softly, so softly, and Makoto thinks his breath stops and his heart starts drumming almost painfully against his chest.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to go anywhere without me," Haru promises, barely above a whisper, as he presses his lips to the shell of Makoto's ear, and the brunet gives a full bodied shudder. "You made me want you so bad, Makoto, and now I'm gonna take what you showed me yesterday."
"Oh god, ohgodohgod, Haru," Makoto nearly wails, nails digging into the material of the pillows so hard he's shocked he hasn't ripped the fabric yet, "Haru, god, pleaseplease do it."
"Makoto," Haru says, almost low enough for it to be a growl, and he slides one possessive hand down to Makoto's quivering hole, and he crooks a finger into his boyfriend without preamble—when his eyes open wide.
"Makoto," Haru says shortly, and it more of a question than anything, and Makoto lifts his head to shyly steal a glimpse of Haru's expression before burying his face in his arms.
"I-uh, um, didn'twannawait," Makoto says in a panicky, pleading rush, voice muffled with his face hidden, but Haru's actually glad for his boyfriend's adorable, unpredictable bouts of shyness for once.
Because he's trying, really really trying for a domineering attitude right now, and he doesn't think the utterly blown-away look on his face would help his cause. But he thinks he's got some reason for pause.
After all, his boyfriend stretched and lubed himself up for him.
And suddenly all Haru can think about is how his boyfriend must have cum to the thought of this moment this very morning, and took his time pouring lube into his hands to push into him, and stretched himself, and waited at the station for him like this—
It's so dirty, and so hot, and too much for Haru, and he needs to have Makoto now.
So he eases Makoto over onto his back once more before he leans down to swallow Makoto down in one smooth, fluid motion that rips a loud, hoarse cry from Makoto.
His boyfriend's hands scramble against the sofa, and Haru's fingers are latched onto Makoto's hips so tightly he knows there'll be bruises in an hour or two, but he needs to have Makoto's taste on his tongue, needs to have him cumming down his throat now, so he doesn't wait like he usually does, but nearly pulls all the way off before sucking him back in, bobbing his head in a ruthless, impatient pace that's too much, too fast, too good for his lover, if the way he's ripping scream after scream out of Makoto's throat is any indication.
Makoto has always been a screamer, but Haru swears Makoto's never screamed this prettily for him in his whole life.
It helps, though, he supposes, when all Makoto can seem to remember is his name, as he cries out Haru after Haru after Haru in a beautiful, desperate, pleading mantra.
"H-Haru, Haru-chan," Makoto half gasps, half sobs, his entire body arching gracefully and Haru loves his boyfriend's strong, gorgeous back, he wants to kiss each notch of his spine and leave his mark on every last inch of Makoto, but he settles for sucking hard and fast and picking up his rhythm, taking Makoto deep in his throat over and over again, as best he can, refusing to give the brunet even a moment to catch his breath and Makoto—
Makoto can't get enough of it.
Makoto writhes beneath him, fingers and toes curling, back arching, and his mouth hangs slightly open, urging Haru on with the endless stream of sound, unmistakably begging for it.
"Haru Haru HaruHaru," Makoto gasps, choking on his own breath when Haru makes a low sound and start simply swallowing around him, taking his cock as deep in his throat as he can and working his lips and tongue around him and it's all he can do not to cum right then and there himself when Makoto's voice breaks as he nearly screams his name.
"Haru! Haru, fuck," Makoto chokes out before sound cuts off, and his mouth works soundlessly as he spasms beneath Haru, body twisting this way and that as he cums hard, shooting his load down Haru's throat and he shudders the entire way through his orgasm, chest heaving in silent sobs of pleasure as Haru keeps working his mouth around his cock the whole way through.
Then his voice cuts back in with a shrill scream when Haru doesn't stop.
"Haru, Haru," Makoto almost shrieks, clasping a shaking, mortified hand over his mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure on overly sensitive nerves, and he thrashes beneath Haru desperately, but if it's to try to shy away or come closer, neither can be sure.
When Makoto bucks forward with a gasp and wail when Haru pulls back licking his lips and iinstead curls his fingers around his flagging erection, it's a decisive plea for more.
"Oh god ohgod, Haru, s't'much, t-too-it's t-too..!"
"You're gonna take anything I give you, Makoto," Haru says as he pulls his mouth off his boyfriend at last, easing two fingers into his pliant boyfriend just to emphasize his point, and he's just as startled as Makoto looks at the way his voice comes out in a rough growl, but Makoto loves it, if the way his hips buck back onto his fingers and his cock twitches valiantly in his grasp is any indication.
"I didn't have you at all for three whole days, Makoto. So I'm gonna make you come three times."
The incredulous moan of his name and accompanying shudder that seizes Makoto's body is more than enough to tell Haru what Makoto thinks of that, and, oh, if that's not incentive to give Makoto what he wants, nothing else is.
Haru takes a deep breath to gather as much resolve as he can muster before sliding his teasing fingers out of Makoto, and it's almost too much to bear, especially when Makoto lets out a stricken sound at the loss and cranes his head to try and see him, green eyes cloudy and pleading and begging, and Haru steels himself before sitting back on his knees and drawing himself up to his full height.
"Get on your knees," he demands, and Makoto shakily eases himself back onto his stomach, before craning his head to look back at him as he waits anxiously for more, chest heaving shallowly. Haru shifts despite himself and licks his lips. "Now finger yourself, Makoto."
Makoto blinks rapidly at him before his eyes widen and the blush returns full force.
"I, uh, what…? Um, I a-already, I mean, I don't—" Makoto stutters out, a little hoarsely, a lot confused, but at Haru's Look he scrambles to try and spread his legs as wide as he can with the limit of the expanse of the couch cushions, and he raises his ass timidly into the air for Haru to see, chewing his lower lip as if it can relieve his embarrassment.
But it's only another moment's hesitation before he obediently slides his hand between his legs to shyly presses one trembling finger into himself, and he falls forward a little bit at the breech, more of his weight falling onto his shoulders and he presses his burning cheek into the couch cushions, peering up through dark, damp lashes at Haru with one bright green eye as he slides his finger up to the first knuckle.
It's such a erotic and perverted position that he has Makoto in, that Haru wants nothing more than to finish himself off to the slight of it, and maybe cum all over the back of his boyfriend's thighs, but he promises himself that another time and instead slides his hands beneath his knees to keep them there.
"Look at you, Makoto" Haru hums, his voice trembling only the slightest bit as he watches Makoto pant beneath him own touches, and he's pleased with Makoto for knowing exactly what he wants, as he slowly eases his the digit in and out for Haru to watch.
The raven-haired boy licks his lips, struggling not to close his eyes just to revel in the soft sounds escaping Makoto's throat along with the harsh, little pants. "You look so good, Makoto, fucking yourself open for me," he murmurs, and he's a little glad Makoto can't look at him full on, because he doesn't know if he could keep his words steady if he had Makoto gawking at him like he knows he would if he could watch these words fall from his lips.
"Add another finger," he adds bluntly, pleased when Makoto doesn't hesitate this time, slipping a second in with a shudder and a strained moan before he continues.
"You teased me a lot yesterday, Makoto," Haru says, lowering his voice as much as he can, and he's pleased with the involuntary keen that slips from Makoto's mouth at the tone. "And now I'm going to take what I want. What I told you I'd want."
These seem to be the magic words that make Makoto's eyes snap wide open in realization, and Haru lets the brunet pull one, two shuddering gasps of air into his lungs before he leans in, spreading Makoto's cheeks as he circles Makoto's fingers lightly with his tongue.
"Fuck!" Makoto yells, before biting his lower lip hard, doing his best to hold himself back; but it doesn't seem to be working very well, because pearls of precome roll thickly, steadily down his cock.
Haru makes a low, appreciative sound as he pulls back a little to admire the sight, before turning his full attention towards lavishing his stretched pink hole with his tongue, occasionally brushing his lips and tongue along Makoto's fingers whenever they're not buried inside him, and he revels in the breathy whimpers and mewls falling from Makoto's lips like the drops of cum falling to spatter against the fabric of the couch.
And then Makoto spreads his fingers for a deeper stretch, and Haru abruptly thrusts his tongue between them and into Makoto, and he curls his tongue inside his boyfriend, and then Makoto is coming with a harsh, stilted shout, and Haru pulls back just in time to watch in fascination as cum spatters against Makoto's stomach and the cushions, hot and thick, an impressive amount considering how hard he came the first time.
Makoto is left trembling and panting as he struggles to keep his ass raised in the air, until Haru lifts a hand to press flat against the small of his back and, and Makoto lets himself sprawl bonelessly down, panting hard into his pillowed arms, moaning weakly.
"So good, Makoto," Haru whispers as he leans down to kiss the damp, hot nape of Makoto's neck, and he lines himself up once more to plunge into Makoto without another thought, making the taller swimmer arch and scream weakly into the sofa, but he doesn't, can't react any more, too spent and tired to so much as grasp for leverage.
"You're so good for me, Makoto, Mako-chan." Haru smiles to himself, helplessly, when Makoto stiffens at the pet name and he huffs a low laugh against the shell of Makoto's ear that's more of a purr than anything.
"One more time, Makoto. You're gonna let me fuck one more out of you, aren't you?"
"Haru," Makoto moans lowly, swallows hard, thickly, but his fingers curl into the fabric and he gives an uncertain, tiny nod quickly into the pillows, unwilling to lift his face from where its pressed, hidden, in his arms, and Haru takes that as answer enough, because he's so good, so good, his Makoto, and Haru can't get enough of him-
And so he picks up the same, punishing pace he'd set before with his mouth, more than a little amused and aroused by the way Makoto's body doesn't (or can't) so much as rock back against him after how hard he's exerted him already.
But he still moans for him, moans beautifully and brokenly into his arms and Haru's a little amazed and more than a bit proud that he's able to still keep up with the stream of sound and praise.
Because the way Makoto is shifting weakly beneath him, towards him, is answer enough that Makoto is just as into this as he is, and Haru thinks he may have to do this again, sooner than either of them thinks.
Haru presses his face in between Makoto's shoulder blades and rests his forehead there as he struggles to gasp for air as he thrusts hard, deep into Makoto, and to keep his climax at bay for a while longer, just a little longer, because he feels like he might die if he doesn't come soon but he has to have Makoto cum for him so beautifully for him one more time, just once more—
With a grunt, Haru pulls out and then thrusts right back in, swiftly, smoothly, and Makoto lets out a strangled whine and Haru's mouth quirks despite himself before he does it again, and again, and again-
Until they're rocking feverishly together once more, Makoto doing his best to keep up even as he trembles badly beneath Haru, barely able to so much as keep his fingers curled into the sofa as he tries to brace himself to press back into Haru's rough thrusts, so Haru replaces his thrusts with a merciless assault on Makoto's prostate, grinding his cock into Makoto's sweet spot.
It takes everything Haru has not to cum right then and there when Makoto clamps down hard around him with a scream of his name, and he's so tight he sees stars; and all of the sudden his climax starts hurtling towards him, and he can't, come yet, Makoto, he has to—so he slides his shaking hands beneath Makoto's body, one hand searching out his nipples to fondle roughly while the other curls loosely around his cock, which is twitching halfheartedly but still somehow, impossibly, hardens beneath his touch—
And then Makoto is screaming, and Haru thinks he may very well be screaming along with him and they're coming together this time, though Makoto can't even manage anything but a weak little splatter against Haru's palm, and Haru thinks his orgasm lasts hours, but that's silly, he knows, and he finally seems to stop cumming and he blinks down at Makoto who's absolutely limp beneath him, and Haru feels his heart pick up at an alarmed pace—
Until Makoto makes a tiny noise and shifts his cheek against the pillow, though he doesn't move any further.
Haru's stomach gives a relieved lurch, and he pulls out of Makoto as gingerly as he can, his heart giving a tiny, painful tug at the pained gasp it elicits from Makoto's throat, but he drops a soft, apologetic kiss to the considerable hickey on his nape before he settles comfortably on top of Makoto, lips quirking at the little oof he hears escape the brunet.
"Makoto?" Is all Haru says, but Makoto, impossibly perfect Makoto, knows exactly what he means.
Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry. Did you like it? Do you want me to go?
And Makoto just slowly shifts until his face isn't buried in his arms, and a tired, sated, crinkled green eye peers out to meet Haru's worried ones.
"Good," he manages, barely above a whisper, and he swallows and licks his lips before trying again, though the sound still comes out almost as rusty sounding as before. "Really good, Haru, I. God. Fuck," he laughs hoarsely, but he squirms, wincing more than a little, and Haru quickly braces his knees on either side of the brunet so he's trapped beneath him and can't move.
Makoto makes a slight face, before giving Haru an apologetic, almost sheepish smile
"Sorry about your couch, Haru-chan," he manages, and Haru blinks, a startled chuckle escaping his mouth.
"I like it much better this way," Haru shrugs, earning another delighted, breathless giggle from his boyfriend, and he gets up, one hand pressed gently on Makoto's hip to urge him to stay still. "Don't move," Haru orders (pleads, really), "I'll clean you up. Clean up," he amends, looking at his own state, and the state of the couch, because, wow. Really.
"But I," Makoto begins as he starts to push himself off, but the tension leaves his arms as he settles back down onto the couch, almost as an afterthought, and the smile he's trying so hard to keep at bay splits over his face at last "Okay, Haru."
Haru blinks, a little taken aback and suspicious at the brunet's suspiciously easy assent. "Good," he says slowly, uncertainly, but Makoto just laughs and shakes his head.
"Haru-chan," Makoto says helplessly, amused. "I really don't think I could move if I tried."
And Haru laughs.
••∞•Owari•∞••
A/N: So yeah, this whole thing happened over two mornings I had to myself that I spent at my writing!cafe, because the Powers That Be got me a table, twice, on the two very busy mornings I went for breakfast there. Yeahp. So, voila, mes amis! Here you are, and I hope you all enjoyed this, because it literally wrote itself.
I especially hope you enjoyed this, bramblerose4,because you were the catalyst for this marathon monster of a fic!