bet you didn't expect this update coming lol
well, this got more attention than i expected and you see, i was planning on updating but then i got really lazy and several months passed. oops.
i felt so bad that i made this waaay longer than i intended and it kinda got out of hand. oh well. really sorry if anyone was expecting an immediate update, but i hope this can count as my penance maybe...? (look at that rating /winkwonk) also i changed the title because it's terrible and i didn't know what else to put.
i'm also noticing that more people are liking this ship. come to me my children.
He honestly doesn't know how this happened; he started out with apologizing to Fromm at his doorstep and now he's on his bed with the other teen in between his legs and kissing him senseless.
It's not a bad development, though.
Aoba's thoughts are interrupted when he feels a hand sharply tug at the back of his head and he moans into Fromm's mouth, his thighs quaking near Fromm's hips as he feels a fervent tongue slide easily across his teeth.
He hears a low laugh over his lips and his eyes flutter open, slowly and sensually, emerald irises trailing after the teal ones above him. Aoba lifts his head slightly, chasing after Fromm's mouth with his own and huffs cutely when Fromm moves back slightly, laughing again.
"You are seriously too cute," Fromm says, his lips stretching into a teasing smile, though Aoba can still see the sincerity behind it. His head falls back to the pillow again and he can feel his cheeks warm, his mouth unconsciously curling into a pout.
"Aw, don't be like that," Fromm chuckles, bringing down his head to nuzzle against Aoba's cheek affectionately. The brunet just blows into his ear, breath fanning out against his skin warmly and he smiles haughtily when he feels Fromm shiver ever so slightly but noticeable enough for Aoba's satisfaction.
"Then stop teasing me, douche," Aoba replies, his breath coming out in small, hot puffs and his heart beating in his ears. He feels a bit more at ease, the stagnant tension from before alleviated by Fromm; there's just something about his gentle laugh and assuring demeanor that makes Aoba feel more...relaxed.
He just hopes that he doesn't mess up while they -
Wait.
Aoba's heart quickens; not the exhilarating kind that makes him feel light and nice, but the kind that pounds deeply in his ribcage, heavily, uncomfortably, and it feels like his throat has tightened.
The soothing atmosphere has dissipated as quickly as it came.
His internal struggle must have surfaced as he feels Fromm lift his head from his shoulder and looks at him with questioning eyes.
"Is something wrong?" he asks softly, so gentle and concerned that it makes Aoba feel worse for some reason.
Words don't seem to help him at the moment, so he resorts to nodding his head mutely, moving his arms from his side to wrap around Fromm's neck. He can feel Fromm shifting and then his face is in front of Aoba's.
His eyebrows are pinched together tightly, forming slight wrinkles in between. Aoba feels guilty now, knowing that his response induced such a reaction and such a face definitely should not mar Fromm's handsome face. He startles a bit when Fromm extends a hand to him and pinches his nose, Aoba in turn wrinkling it as Fromm squeezes.
He moves one arm from Fromm's shoulder blade to slap away at the offending hand and Fromm laughs, returning his hand back to Aoba's side as he shifts forward so that he rests on his forearms, unintentionally giving Aoba an eyeful of his biceps flexing along with his movement.
(Aoba realizes that Fromm was actually being intentional as he gives him this annoying but incredibly attractive smirk. That bastard.)
"Seriously, though. Is something wrong? You seemed a bit uncomfortable earlier..." Fromm remarks, his teal eyes searching deeply into his own emerald ones.
Aoba looks away, unable to endure such a scrutinizing gaze. He frowns and before Fromm could open his mouth, his slaps the back of his head from behind.
"Ow! Aoba, what the hell?!" Fromm pouts, about to move his hand to Aoba's cheek but Aoba slaps it away again, shooting him a don't-even-try glare.
Fromm's pout intensifies.
He sighs, though it doesn't have much bite to it, and he removes his person from Aoba's body, moving back until he's sitting with his legs crossed, leaving a considerable amount of distance between the two.
Aoba's chest feels cold all of a sudden.
Fromm just stares at him, his hands folded in his lap. It's almost as if he were waiting for something.
Aoba sits up hurriedly, feeling vulnerable when his body was sprawled out like that under Fromm's hard stare and gulps inaudibly, that strict heaviness stuck in his throat again.
It's when Fromm takes his shaky hand (wait, when was I ever this jittery? he thinks) into his own that Aoba just spills.
"I-It's just t-that, uh...I d-don't want to," he mutters and his chest feels so heavy for some reason and he can't help his mouth from running when he feels an encouraging squeeze.
"Uh, Ijustdon'twanttohavesex," he says quickly, heaving a relieved sigh as his chest feels a bit more lighter.
"Huh?"
Aoba falters again, believing Fromm's response to be a negative one and he rushes out a swift "Well, i-it's not I don't like you or a-anything! It's just that I'm not comfortable doing - " he ignores the familiar heat spreading on his cheeks, " - that, um, right now...yeah."
Aoba refuses to look directly into Fromm's eyes after executing such a lame confession, so he resorts to staring at their conjoined hands instead as the blush on his cheeks spread even further. He was normally so composed, but talking with Fromm in such an...intimate situation proved to be an immensely difficult task for him.
His hand jerks when Fromm doubles over from laughing.
"That's what you were worried about?" he manages to wheeze out, his hand clutching his stomach as his shoulders shake with laughter. Aoba just remains silent, hoping that Fromm looks up to see his very displeased face.
It's when Fromm is breathing out slowly and his smile is still wide that Aoba reaches over and shoves his head into the mattress, right in between his bent knees. Fromm struggles to move out of his grasp, muffled protests drowned out by his clean sheets and the relieved, soaring feeling in Aoba's chest. He smiles and relinquishes his hold on Fromm's precious hair, said boy rubbing where he grabbed at and looks up at him, pouting cutely.
"Thanks," Aoba says and moves his head down to brush his lips on the crown of byzantium hair, giggling a bit when Fromm shuffles around and the hair tickles his chin. He feels Fromm sit up, going back to the position from before and takes Aoba's hands into his own, guiding him forward until the brunet is situated in his lap, the back of his knees over Fromm's hips and ankles locked at his waist.
Aoba unconsciously wriggles forward, his chest pressing closely with Fromm's, the heat from his thin tank top seeping into his own. He reaches to unzip his own uniform before a warm hand closes over his and guides his fingers downwards.
Everything is going so slow and Fromm is being so gentle with him by pushing his jacket over his shoulders leisurely, acting like he has all the time in the world and honestly, Aoba doesn't give one shit about that and just wants it off.
He almost woots from absolute relief when the jacket slips off his arms and pools around Fromm's feet, sighing dreamily when he feels warm, calloused hands at his hips and teasing lips under his ear. His mouth trails across his jaw and he kisses his chin, raising his mouth to Aoba's as the brunet wraps his arms around Fromm's neck, one handing scratching lightly at the back of his neck, right where his hair ends.
Aoba's ears pick up a faint sound and his eyes widen slightly when he realizes that Fromm moaned into his mouth. He smiles into Fromm's lips as his heated breath mingles with his own, his sighs and groans increasing in volume as Aoba continues to graze his fingers against Fromm's scalp, switching between fleeting caresses to rough, blunt nails tugging harshly. He can feel Fromm getting restless as the teen whines impatiently into his mouth and Aoba pulls away, pulling at his hair, soft yet firm, exposing his neck.
If Aoba were being honest, he wouldn't actually think that simple teasing would reduce Fromm into a heaving, blushing mess but here he is now, licking and biting at Fromm's neck while the other's clammy hands are grasping at his hips as they grind upwards, desperate for attention. Aoba relents to Fromm's needy pelvis, deciding to grant him mercy by finally pressing his own hips down and the throaty groan that escapes him is like music to his ears.
He shifts up again, moving so that he leans on his knees on either side of Fromm's hips as he straddles Fromm's thighs and he swears his breath left his body as Fromm slides one arm across the length of Aoba's waist and wrenches him downwards, simultaneously grabbing the back of Aoba's neck to pull his face towards him as their lips collide harshly.
It's all teeth and tongue instead of a slow slide of lips, quick and heavy panting instead of soft breathing. Aoba moans loudly as Fromm thrusts his tongue into his mouth, scouring the insides of his cheeks with an intense heat until he settles for prodding at his own tongue, urgent and needy.
Aoba feels as if his brain is short circuiting as Fromm removes his tongue from his mouth and latches onto his collarbone instead, sucking harshly and nibbling softly afterwards until a dark bruise blossoms where his mouth has been. He doesn't stop there though, trailing his reddened lips back to the juncture of where Aoba's jawline meets his neck, leaving fleeting kisses in their wake.
The brunet jerks when he feels a sneaky hand fondle his rear end as the other softly ghosts over his arching back. He can feel Fromm's mouth form into a smug smirk as the other male continues to leave marks all over his throat. Aoba moans breathily due to Fromm's ministrations and can feel himself slowly losing control. He won't go down without a fight, though.
With that thought in mind, he waits for Fromm to release his flushed skin from his teeth and when he leans back a bit to relish in his work, Aoba immediately pushes his shoulders, causing Fromm to fall back as the brunet anchors his waist to the bed by straddling him.
Fromm was about to start complaining until he looks up and the words just die on his lips. What he sees is possibly the most sexiest thing he has ever had the pleasure of witnessing with his own eyes.
He's met with Aoba flushed from the tips of his ears to the end of his nose as his chest falls back and forth from exertion. Aoba's hips are aligned just above his crotch and the light in Fromm's room glows behind him, almost giving him an ethereal aura despite their quite sexual situation. His hands are placed firmly on his chest to keep him down, but damn, he thinks, it's not like I'm gonna be moving anywhere soon.
What enraptures him the most though is his eyes; usually colored a vibrant emerald that is now dimmed with the heavy sensation of lust and it turns Fromm on even more knowing that he's the one who elicited such a reaction.
He just hopes that Aoba doesn't notice the major...problem stirring in his pants after such a revelation.
Aoba doesn't seem to notice Fromm's inner turmoil however, electing to move down so that his lips brush gently against his, light and sweet, a stark contrast to the heat that Fromm feels stirring in his lower belly. Fromm moans slightly against the other's mouth when Aoba pulls away, desperate for attention as his hands flail to the brunet's hips, immediately molding with the curve of his skin, almost as if his hands were made for being there.
Aoba, however, had other plans.
He kisses Fromm again, harder and wetter than from before, while removing Fromm's hands from his hips and pins them against the mattress. It's when Aoba pulls away with a small, sly smile tugging at his lips that Fromm realizes Aoba has him effectively secured on the bed with only his hands at his wrists and his hips over the lower half of his body.
Fromm just blinks up at him, dazed from their earlier ministrations, as Aoba just innocently smiles down at him. His brain clicks a second later however -
"What the hell."
Aoba has the nerve to burst out laughing at his expense and Fromm just glares back, unimpressed.
"Oh man," Aoba wheezes, releasing Fromm's hands to balance his weight using Fromm's chest as leverage as his other hand reaches up to his face, wiping away at imaginary tears, "you should've seen your face."
"You did not just kiss me as a means of distraction," Fromm pouts.
"Of course not," Aoba smiles.
"Don't you dare lie to my face," Fromm threatens, though there's no bite behind it. (He can't find the situation as humorous as Aoba finds it. It's kind of embarrassing, really.)
"Maybe I did it because," Aoba's hands land back on his chest as he leans down to whisper in Fromm's ear, "I like seeing you under me."
Oh.
Oh.
Fromm remains quiet after the confession, though his lower regions happen to respond very well to the sultriness of Aoba's voice. (Which he felt came out of nowhere. It is literally impossible for such an innocent boy like Aoba to seem so indecent.
Fromm, however, finds himself thinking that this outcome is so much more better.)
Aoba doesn't seem to mind the sudden silence, as he waits for the other teen to respond with an almost amused look on his face.
"That's really hot," Fromm croaks, immediately wanting to slap himself after saying it.
Aoba laughs again, his mirth increasing at Fromm's expense as the other teen just wishes for some divine intervention to save his sorry ass.
"I liked it better when you were all shy and blushy," he mutters, cheeks warming as Aoba pecks at his cheek affectionately.
"Really? I like it better knowing that the great Fromm-san can get embarrassed so easily," he cooed mockingly.
"You smug little - " Fromm starts but his words die out into a drawn out moan as he feels Aoba sharply thrust himself downwards - right on his crotch.
Aoba's movements are relentless, his hips making these sinful circular motions on his pelvis and he really wishes they weren't wearing pants at that moment. Just when he was getting into the moment, Fromm's waist feels lighter and he almost whines upon realization when he sees Aoba getting off of him.
Out of all the possibilities for Aoba moving however, he least expected the brunet to situate himself in between his parted legs as his face goes down until all that Fromm sees is a mop of brown hair from his vantage point.
Is he going to do what I think -
He couldn't even finish his thought as he hears a zipper being pulled down and the next thing he knows, he feels something hot and warm slide across the prominent bulge in his underwear. Fromm moans loudly when Aoba suckles a bit on the bottom, gradually shifting his lips towards the tip as spit is left from where his mouth has been.
Fromm's hips starts to twitch and he almost cries in disbelief when Aoba moves his mouth to the waste-band of his underwear instead, sensually moving the fabric with his teeth.
And in that moment, Fromm realizes that Aoba is not as innocent as he thought.
Fromm leans over the metal ledge by himself, leisurely watching the tech crew members fret about the Coupling machines, as the other pilots have either returned to the their respective rooms or decided to linger around in the lounge room.
He feels a bit stuffy in his pilot suit, but the discomfort is the least of his concerns at the moment. His mind trails elsewhere, more specifically to the incident (as he likes to dub it) that occurred in his room a few days prior. It's not as if he regrets that experience, no of course not. On the contrary, thinking about sharing such an intimate time with Aoba makes his heart soar and in retrospect, the whole ordeal was sloppy but oh damn, if he didn't say kissing the life out of Aoba wasn't pleasurable, then he'd be lying.
(He also got a blowjob - albeit an inexperienced one - out of it too, so it's not like he's complaining.)
However, what does worry him is their relationship after what had happened. Aoba was completely normal in the morning after, despite blowing his teammate in his own room, but Fromm doesn't know if he should be worried now or just cast off the negative thoughts as a result of his paranoia.
Where do we stand? he desperately wants to ask, but should he? If Aoba doesn't seem to be that affected, then maybe he's just overreacting and he doesn't want Aoba to think that he is wary of him or anything...
"Ugh," he groans, gritting his teeth as he pushes himself off the metal ledge and briskly walks past two group members who were chatting quite animatedly and were going to greet him until they see the angered look on his face, so they opt to step back slowly.
And also seeing Aoba at the ground floor talking with one of the crew members with his back turned perfectly display how the uniform clings very nicely to his rear end does not help him think any better. At all.
That sight alone plagues his mind during the walk back to his room - his mind filled with the hazy kisses and heavy breaths they shared - that were from a while ago, but now are as clear as day to him.
Fromm hastily salutes to the people he passes by and at the time he's nearing his room, he's almost running. He punches in the pass-code and rushes into the solace of his room, his back against the closed door and he slides down until he's hunched over on the floor.
Aoba's voice and touch are still lingering in his mind and he breathes through his nostrils, feeling afraid that the slightest noise that he makes will alert the brunet of the filthy actions that he is about to commit. One of his hands shakily removes the top part of his suit as the other trails down to his belt and slips into his pants, and he groans in relief when it comes in contact with his flushed skin.
Fromm waits in bated breath as he watches Aoba pulling his underwear down with his teeth alone as his hands latch onto his hips to hold him still. His gasps come out in a stutter when his arousal is released from the confines of his boxers and is exposed to the heated air between the two and Aoba's mouth hovering over him does not help to alleviate the scorching feeling building up in the pit of his stomach.
He watches the other move with a careful eye, as Aoba tentatively licks the tip and drags his tongue down the length, seemingly oblivious to the onslaught of pleasure that it brings to Fromm. He gasps when the brunet licks a heavy swipe at the base and peppers innocent kisses on the voyage up, sucking lightly.
His hips falter when his hand rushes up the length of his dick, quickly swiping his slit to gather the liquid accumulating at the top and bringing it down until his bare fist closes over his arousal, his slicked fingers providing an adequate sense of relief, but it's not enough - it's not enough but he ignores it as his mind wanders back to Aoba.
It's easy for Fromm to tell that Aoba is inexperienced - if the intense blushing and stuttering from before didn't count, than the amateur handling of his erection is a dead giveaway - and he honestly did not expect for them to reach this far, maybe making out and some heavy petting here and there, but he can't really bring himself to care as Aoba decides to wrap his lips around the tip and suck.
The heat, the tension; it's too much for Fromm and it racks his body in the form of tight coils in his stomach and a lingering pain in his thighs from holding an uncomfortable position for so long. He kicks hard enough so that his uniform pants folds under the backs of his knees and stretches his legs a bit until he's in a comfortable position.
His hands return to his erection immediately and he pumps the length with haste, too driven by his lust to worry about technique - he just wants it done.
He feels so damn close but he feels like his body is outright refusing him of relief. He groans desperately, slight cramps in his knuckles as he continues to stroke himself and all of a sudden, he's imagining Aoba's mouth where his hand is - where his mouth should be.
Fromm swears that if he visualizes hard enough, he can almost feel the wet slide of tongue where his thumb is swiping at the slit, the sweet graze of teeth at the bottom of his length where his lower fingers are situated. He moans, completely lost in his fantasy as he imagines Aoba engulfing him in the delicious heat of his mouth, Aoba's hand softly grazing the underside of his balls instead of his sweaty palm.
He's panting heavily and feels even more closer to release when his stomach clenches as he imagines Aoba in between his legs, staring up at him half-lidded eyes with his dick in his mouth.
"Won't you come for me, Fromm-san?"
A strangled shout escapes his lips as he thrusts shallowly into his hand, thin lines of white spurting out of him and dirties both the floor and the waistband of his uniform pants. It's when he's coming down from his high that he feels a wave of shame wash over him when his mind supplied an image of him coming into Aoba's mouth instead, the sticky fluid running down his chin instead of his pants.
Fromm sighs at the mess. He really has a lot of thinking to do.
He paces on the floor of his bathroom, his feet sliding against the pristine tiles fluidly and anxiously. Fromm sighs, agitated, and sits on the toilet seat, rubbing at his eyes with his palms.
Out of all the times he has ever felt so confused that his brain started to hurt, this had to take the cake.
After his distraction, he sought refuge in his bathroom to immediately clean up his mess to the point that he can probably see his reflection on the floor of his room and actually try to think of a solution instead of just goofing around.
He knows what he wants to say; how to say it though, is the problem.
He sighs again, this one more exaggerated in volume as he stands up and goes to the sink, turning the knob for cold water to the highest setting and cups it in his hands. He braces himself for a moment before kneeling and splashes it on his face without hesitation.
Fromm washed his hands before, but seeing the pure water running down the callouses of his fingers bring him some sense of redemption, as if the liquid can wash away all the horrible sins he has committed with them, so he gathers some soap and lathers his hands in the foamy substance rather harshly, scrubbing in between his knuckles and on the joints of his fingers.
When he's done washing his hands, there's a slight stinging on his palms and when they emerge from the rush of water from the faucet, an aggressive red mar his tan skin.
He knows it's not much help, to wash hands until they're raw, but the idea of such cleanliness seems to calm his nerves at the moment.
Fromm honestly doesn't know he's so worked up about this; he's the one who's supposed to be the teenage heartthrob, he's the one who makes people feel incredibly nervous around him, and he's the one who causes their brain to short circuit when they're in close range of him. To be on the receiving end of such reactions caused by innocent pining is foreign to him.
(Which, when he thinks about it, probably made him fall for Aoba even more. For only this infuriating boy can make him feel such a plethora of feelings all at once that it makes him want to say a million things at once but also keeps his mouth clamped shut.)
He looks straight into his reflection and stares into his own eyes. He contorts his face so one of determination is mirrored back to him.
C'mon, Fromm, he thinks, it can't be that hard right? Just go up to him and ask; short and to the point.
He breathes out and slaps his cheeks. When he pulls his hands away, barely visible imprints of red taint his skin. He puffs out his chest and puts his hands on his hips, grinning broadly.
He can do this.
.
.
.
He can't do this.
He was so pumped on his way to Aoba's room (which was literally down the hall), coupled with an air of confidence surrounding his person but the moment he knocked on the door, the enormity of his decision hung heavily over his head.
Fromm can feel his nerves starting up again and he chews on his bottom lip anxiously, his hands feeling sweaty all too suddenly, his heart beating all too fast.
Before he can wimp out, the door whisks open to reveal the beautiful face of the person that has plagued his mind since the day they met and the words that he wanted to say are thrown out the window.
"Hey, Fromm," Aoba greets, all smiles and sunshine and Fromm resists the urge to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness.
He can't really trust himself to speak, so he just sends a curt nod in response. He can see the other boy shift around when Fromm remains silent, "Sooo, why a sudden visit?"
Fromm gulps, hesitant, then blurts out, "Where do we stand?"
He watches anxiously as Aoba's eyebrows raise upwards, his head tilted in confusion. He groans inwardly; he here thought that he'd offend him somehow and the other doesn't even know what he's talking about.
He coughs into his hand. "I mean, like our relationship."
Aoba's face contorts to that of realization, before a faint blush blossoms on his face.
"Oh, you mean..."
"...Yeah..." Fromm finishes lamely.
"Well, uh - " he blushes harder, opens his mouth, then closes it. "Um, come in, first. It'd be awkward to talk about that," he coughs into his hand, "here."
Fromm barely hears what the other is saying (he was too busy staring wistfully at how beautiful Aoba looks when he's all red) and sees the other turn his back to him and sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Fromm follows, the door closing behind him and the enormity of the situation finally settles in.
They're actually going to talk about this.
He gulps again, his heart pacing. A million thoughts race in his head as he approaches the seemingly small distance from where he's standing and the bed.
What if he rejects me? What if he laughs in my face? Oh my god, I'll never live that down. I'll move away from Cygnus, change my name, maybe raise a sheep farm -
It's when he sits down that thinks the worst thought of them of all.
What if he doesn't want to associate with me anymore?
He's not too sure about this anymore. However, when he looks up and sees Aoba's gentle smile, he swears he can feel his heart both calm down and speed up.
"So..." Aoba starts awkwardly, letting the unspoken question remain in the air.
"Huh?" Fromm startles from his staring and coughs into his hand. "Oh yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk about that," he says, especially taking extra heed to stress the last word.
The blush returns on Aoba's face full-force and Fromm would be distracted by how cute it was if not for the paranoia biting at the corner of his mind.
"What about it?" He asks, the redness of his cheeks dimming but still very noticeable. "You said something about 'where do we stand'...?"
Now it's Fromm's turn to blush, as the focus of the conversation shifts to him.
"Yeah, well, I've been thinking about what our relationship is. I mean, it's not like I didn't enjoy what we did then, I very much enjoyed what you did, especially with that tongue, holy shit - "
He's cut off by Aoba's giggle, muffled by his hand and he realizes that he's rambling. He feels his cheeks warm even more.
"W-What I'm trying to say is, I want us to be together. I don't want what we had to be a one-time thing. Of course, you don't have to be with me if you don't want to - mmph?"
Before he could continue mindlessly babbling, he feels warm, soft lips on his own. He lets out a sigh when Aoba moves his mouth a bit to fully press into his before pulling away, his face just as red as Fromm's.
"Of course I feel the same way..." he mutters, the flush on his face darkening in hue and Fromm has to resist the urge to throw his fist in the air in victory.
However, his mind registers something a moment after.
"Wow, that was a very Dio thing to do," he states, his face completely serious.
"What?!"
"Like, you even did that thing where he looks away and talks over his shoulder. He also blushes sometimes - you're doing it right now!"
"S-Shut up! Idiot!"
Fromm's eyes widen and he barks out in laughter. "Oh my god! You're saying 'idiot' just like how he does! I didn't know being tsundere was contagious - "
He laughs even louder when he hears Aoba's indignant squawk, clutching his stomach from sudden exertion as he tries to avoid a pillow coming his way. He fails dodging as the fluffy surface impacts his face harder than he initially thought.
"Stupid Fromm!"
Aoba, seeing that his idiot - boyfriend? Can he even call him that now? - well, his whatever isn't going to stop laughing anytime soon, sighs in defeat and slumps next to Fromm, shoving another pillow into his face as an attempt to stifle the relentless giggles. Seeing that his endeavor is pointless, he just curls around Fromm's side and wraps his arms around Fromm's middle.
"Are you done now?" he asks when Fromm's laughter begins to visibly diminish, dying down into breathy giggles and Aoba's not satisfied when he receives a slight nod in response.
Fromm finally relaxes and wraps his arm around Aoba's shoulders, his elbow digging into the mattress under Aoba's neck.
"Yeah, I'm done," he reiterates, leaning down to press a kiss on Aoba's forehead. He chuckles softly when Aoba just huffs in return.
If words don't sway him, he opts to use actions instead. He moves his lips from Aoba's forehead to his nose, pecking it lightly before trailing fleeting kisses all over the expanse of Aoba's smooth cheek. He lets his mouth linger on the corner of Aoba's lips, relishing in the brunet's bated breath as Aoba's eyes slip close and his hands fist at Fromm's jacket, impatient.
Fromm smiles, though it can't be seen by Aoba, as his hold around Aoba's shoulder tightens and then he moves until he's on side, his other arm wrapping around Aoba's waist and pulling him closer to his body until their legs get entangled.
Aoba breathes a sigh of relief when he feels Fromm's mouth over his, his attention fully enraptured by the intensity and warmth of the kiss. He almost lets out a whine when Fromm's tongue prods at his bottom lip gently before taking it between his teeth, grazing the plump skin in a yearning manner.
His hand moves from Aoba's waist to his hip, palming the fabric covering his skin in small circles, pressing his fingers into the curve of his bone at intervals. Aoba's breath stutters in his mouth, breathing heavily with need as his hands trail from Fromm's chest to his hair, fisting it in small clumps. He scratches Fromm's scalp when he feels Fromm respond positively, moaning Aoba's name into the saliva from his mouth and then shoving his mouth into Aoba's neck to stifle any other loud noise.
Aoba pouts, not appreciating Fromm hiding his face from him - especially when he saw all of Aoba's embarrassing noises in such intimate moments - and tugs his hair so that Fromm's face is slightly hovering over the damp spot on the juncture of Aoba's neck and collar and before he can moan from the stimulation on his head, the noise is swallowed by Aoba's hot mouth.
He groans when he feel Aoba's persistence persuading the noises out of him and despite the one to initiate, he can feel all of his control melting under the relentless warmth of Aoba's tongue against his own. He feels his lithe hands on his scalp, the bumping of their limbs whenever they slightly move, the increasing volume of Aoba's breath - his senses are becoming aware despite his hazy mind and he wants to remember all the different sensations of Aoba's body next to his in as much detail as possible.
The intensity of Aoba's touches lessen as time passes, his mouth favoring towards a more lenient and gentle approach as his lips press softly against his own, occasionally nibbling at his lower lip - mimicking the action he committed on Aoba moments prior, Fromm realizes. His body feels incredibly warm and tingly, the imprints left by Aoba's mouth scorching on his skin and he disconnects from the other's mouth, sitting up and leaving the brunet's mouth hang open slightly before he blinks slowly, realization finally settling on him.
As much as he'd love to let Aoba continue, he decides that it's his turn to leave him breathless. He lingers beside Aoba for a few minutes, letting the other collect his bearings before pouncing him, effectively startling Aoba even further. He uses his weight to pin down the other, resting on hs forearms so that he doesn't bring pain to the other. Aoba looks at him, still confused, but he goes along anyway, thinking of the sudden switch in demeanor to characteristic of his boyfriend (he doesn't like to admit the sudden heat he feels in his lower belly whenever he thinks of that word).
Aoba instinctively wraps his legs around Fromm's waist, his ankles holding the other in place as the silence continues to drawl on and truth be told, it's a bit unnerving to Aoba. Especially when Fromm just decided to stare at him with wide eyes, his face flushed from their previous activities but doesn't lessen the intensity of his gaze. It's embarrassing to admit, but Aoba preferred the sounds of their mouths conjoined instead of dead silence.
Even then, he waits patiently for Fromm, hoping to see what the other had in mind when he stopped their ministrations so abruptly. He's surprised when he sees Fromm smirk before he whispers sultrily into his ear, "Payback."
The next thing he hears is the distinct noise of a zipper being opened and the rush of cool air on his bare legs. He doesn't know how Fromm managed to remove his pants and underwear from his person in such record time, but he can't bring himself to care when all he feels are warm hands sensually stroking from his thighs to under his knees and back. He feels his toes curl from the burning touch of Fromm's hands and he realizes that the other was gracious enough to remove his boots, his pristine white socks being the only the source of heat for Aoba's lower body other than Fromm's hands.
He feels something a pinch on his thigh and his hips thrust upward for a second and he gasps, not expecting for that to happen. He looks up at Fromm to question the abrupt action, only for him to see his smug grin. He frowns, flicking the expanse of his forehead not shielded by damp purple bangs when Fromm moves down to meet his face.
"Warn me next time, idiot," Aoba mutters, resting his hand on the back of Fromm's neck, feeling the warm pulse underneath while the other rests in his hair.
"Hmm, it wouldn't be fun then," Fromm says, smiling down at him as he leans down to connect their mouths before Aoba can make a rebuttal. He immediately relaxes in the contact, deciding it futile to resist.
They continue kiss as the night envelops them in silent embrace. Time seems to be completely irrelevant to them and that's how they preferred; to relish in each other's touch without the impeding doom of enemies to plague their minds, letting the fleeting touches and moans take place instead.
Though, Aoba would've appreciated that his legs weren't left vulnerable to the freezing cold of his room; their kissing and touching provides him only temporary heat.
"Wait," he says, removing his mouth from Fromm's, the other reluctant to let go as his mouth follows Aoba's own retreat, "how come you're fully dressed?"
Fromm's face blanks at the hard stare Aoba is giving him, and Aoba lets out a hard tsk at his silence.
He yelps when he feels Aoba push him, straddling his lap right afterwards when his back meets the cold surface of Aoba's mattress. He looks down to see Aoba fervently opening the buttons of his uniform jacket and before he can open his mouth, Aoba beats him to it by kissing him, albeit a bit roughly and Fromm is surprised to find himself enjoying the sudden aggressiveness.
"If you wanted me to be naked so badly, you could've just asked," Fromm says breathily, grinning at Aoba's indignant blush.
"Just take your jacket off," he pouts and Fromm feels compelled to oblige; after all, how can he deny such a cute face like that?
Aoba lifts himself from his waist and sits on his thighs, allowing Fromm to unbutton his jacket and he reaches behind to grab at the bottom of his shirt, bringing it over his head in one fluid motion. He relishes in Aoba's appreciative glances, shyly looking at Fromm's exposed torso and back to his lap, to which he realizes is naked and tugs the hem of his own jacket downward as a means of covering it up.
Fromm smiles at his actions, throwing the garments aside carelessly. He wraps his arms around Aoba's waist and pulls him closer, resting his head on his clothed shoulder. He can feel the tenseness of Aoba's back lessening as he leans his own head on the side of Fromm's ear, his light breathing calming to Fromm as the brunet's hands situate themselves between Fromm's shoulder blades.
They sit quietly, revering the constant humming of each other's heartbeats as Aoba can feel his eyes slipping close. He jolts when he feels a swift grope on his backside and whips an accusing glare at Fromm. Said boy only returns the gesture with a sheepish smile, his hand remaining on the slope of Aoba's back.
Aoba turns away, trying to stifle the moan threatening to slip out of his mouth as Fromm begins to place hot, chaste kisses along the skin of his neck that is already exposed. He nibbles softly at the edge of Aoba's jaw, using his free hand to pull down the zipper of his jacket, the soft unblemished skin Aoba's neck being exposed to him like a present.
Aoba clamps a sweaty palm over his mouth, not allowing to give Fromm the slightest satisfaction. He ends up failing when he feels Fromm's hand knead the skin on one of Aoba's cheeks as the kisses on his neck increase in wetness and longevity; the stimulation on his front and back too much for him take as a loud and needy moan rips out of the base of his throat.
Fromm stiffens and looks up at him, incredulous. Aoba works up the nerve to look directly back at him, since there's no possible way for him to embarrass himself even further. He expects Fromm to burst out laughing until he's on the mattress, completely breathless or tease him for such a humorous slip-up.
What he doesn't expect, however, is for Fromm to blush intensely and then shove his face in to the crook of Aoba's neck.
"That was kind of hot..." he mutters, Aoba craning his neck just in case he misheard. The blush on Fromm's face is ample proof for his assumption, however.
Feeling his heart beat faster at the admission, Aoba's blush strengthens, a sudden confidence rushing through his veins. He covers his mouth in Fromm's hair, kissing it lightly and grips his shoulders, hard, resulting in Fromm glancing at him questioningly before it contorts to that of pleasure as his eyes widen and a low moan slips from his mouth.
Aoba breathes heavily, shifting his body up and down as he rolls his hips in circular motions, the feeling of his leaking arousal sliding across the hard contours of Fromm's stomach completely astounding. His movements increase unconsciously upon hearing Fromm's breathy moans in his ears; the needy groans and long whines driving him to go faster.
Just as he was getting into the rhythm of Fromm rocking his pelvis against his own hips, he feels strong hands grip his hipbones and lock them in place, his strained hardness flush between their bodies.
"Froooomm..." he whines, admittedly childish, into his ear, trying to move his hips but to no avail.
He thinks that maybe he did something wrong, but he realizes that Fromm's wanton noises from earlier can't have been made if he were being so horrible at pleasuring him. He groans into Fromm's hair, frustrated. His groans heighten in volume when he hears Fromm laugh in response, so he whines right into his ear, trying to make it as annoying as possible.
"Dude, can you like, stop for a moment," Fromm laughs, trying, but failing, to hide his laughter.
"No," Aoba says, completely serious as he struggles to move his lower body. He inwardly curses at Fromm's sudden strength.
Was he always this strong? he thinks, breathing a defeated sigh as his struggles cease. All he can think of his how much all that basketball practice is useless to him now.
"Wait, seriously," he hears Fromm say, and upon noticing the urgency in his tone, he stops completely, his attention on what the other has to say. Fromm smiles in gratitude and gives Aoba's neck a soft kiss as a reward.
"Well, I was thinking..."
"Don't hurt yourself," Aoba chortles, quickly dodging the punch sent his way.
"As I was saying," he stresses, smiling at Aoba's giggling, "I remember that when we were - uh, fooling around before, you said that you didn't want to have sex...?"
Aoba's cheeks flush momentarily at the memory, but his interest is more piqued than his embarrassment and he urges Fromm further.
Fromm flushes, seemingly at a loss of words. "Um, well, I guess I wanted to establish boundaries? You seemed enthusiastic earlier," Aoba reddens at his choice of words, "but I wanted to make sure you didn't do anything you'd regret," he finishes, smiling so honestly and reassuringly at Aoba the entire time.
Aoba just stares, utterly wordless. He blushes furiously, coughing into his fist and nestling his head into Fromm's neck. He mutters a quiet thank you into his shoulder, the other kissing his temple in response.
It's silent after that, but a comfortable one, before Aoba mumbles something again. Fromm looks at him, urging him to speak louder.
"We were just going to...uh, relieve each other, right? As long as it's not..." he falters, muffling his mouth into Fromm's neck.
"As long as it's not...?"
"Are you really going to make me say it."
"I'm not doing anything until you say it out loud."
Aoba sighs. "Fine. As long as it's not p-p-" he stutters, his face getting red again.
"Say it, wimp," Fromm mocks, finding amusement in Aoba's struggle.
"Penetration! There, happy?!" Aoba all but shrieks, his entire facing fuming as Fromm almost doubles over in laughter.
"L-Loud and clear, s-sir," Fromm wheezes, his laughter being interrupted by his own hacking coughs as Aoba thumps his head.
"Oh my fuck - " Fromm continues, and it doesn't seem like he'll stop anytime soon.
"Why do you have to ruin anything intimate we have with your sick sense of humor," Aoba says, not finding the situation very funny.
Fromm manages to calm down, enough to say, "At least I didn't shout penetration so loud that everyone on the ship could hear me."
"You are never going to let this go are you," Aoba bemoans, hiding his red face in Fromm's shoulder.
"Nope," is all he says before nudging Aoba's face upward and diving in for a kiss, the latter reciprocating immediately. He feels a gentle push on his front and he allows Fromm to move their bodies until he's lying on the bed, Fromm hovering over him as his tongue enters Aoba's mouth.
The once mirthful atmosphere morphs to that of something else, their laughs and giggles turning into wanton moans and breathy sighs. Aoba whines when Fromm removes his mouth from his own, kissing his way to his ear before whispering, "Can I try something?"
Aoba nods, kissing Fromm's cheek. Fromm smiles and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom. Aoba blushes, silently watching the flexing muscles of Fromm's back as he retreats before it's completely out of sight.
His legs slightly swing back and forth in an idle manner as he waits, his knees bumping each other and he raises his arms, stretching his tired muscles and he lets out an unconscious mewl, letting his arms rest on top of his head when he's done.
Unbeknownst to Aoba, Fromm emerged from bathroom while he was in his own little world, the latter witnessing his smooth bare legs stretching, the slight arch of Aoba's back that displayed his perky butt, the fabric of his jacket and shirt riding up to show the flat plane of his stomach and the curve of his hipbones, and oh god, the sound that he made.
Fromm gulps and his grip on the little bottle tightens, an unmistakable tightness in his pants.
He doesn't have the heart to disrupt Aoba, even when he looks so ravishing and Fromm just walks to him before he changes his mind, ignoring the uncomfortable strain he feels in between his legs. And besides, what better way to appreciate Aoba's body by touching him instead of just staring? With that thought, he directs his way in between Aoba's spread legs, leaning back a bit to appreciate his view before indulging himself and kissing him fully on the mouth.
Aoba startles and his eyes fly open, Fromm's mouth swallowing any noise of surprise he could've made. He surrenders anyway, as he feels the familiar prodding of tongue in his mouth as a sneaky hand trails up the outward side of his thigh.
He sighs into Fromm's mouth, content with the heavenly feeling of Fromm's mouth and hands on his body. He feels the distinct touch of only one hand on his leg, but he's way too distracted by the swirling of Fromm's tongue to care as he wraps his arms around the other's neck, pulling him even closer until there's almost no space between their chests.
Fromm takes his other hand and places the bottle right above Aoba's head, the other too distracted to notice the movement. He wants to pull away so that he can say something, but the task proves to be immensely difficult as Aoba kisses him harder, his legs wrapping around his waist to pull him down until his clothed erection slides roughly across Aoba's own arousal.
He moans into his mouth, the feeling of Aoba's naked body too unbearable as he can feel his arms tremble slightly and he has to brace himself so that he doesn't accidentally crush him. Aoba, however, seems completely oblivious as he starts to lightly thrust upwards onto Fromm's crotch, the latter inwardly cursing at the former's ability to be incredibly distracting.
Fromm manages to pull away quickly enough to catch his breath as he takes in Aoba's flushed cheeks, his lidded eyes, his mussed hair, his reddened lips. He swiftly moves to Aoba's ear to prevent himself from doing anything else other than looking.
"I know you said you didn't want anything to do with penetration, but I wanted to try something, if it's alright with you?"
Aoba's eyes clear a bit, lost in thought and he nods, smiling at him brightly, "Sure."
Fromm nods back, sitting up to retrieve the bottle and leans back on his toes, popping the cap open and pouring a clear substance on his fingers. He lets the cold substance lather on three of his fingers before he closes the cap, moving to put the bottle on Aoba's pillow.
Aoba watches his hand disappear between his legs, the other placed beside his head as Fromm leans on it for support.
"Don't be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?"
Aoba nods, seeing the direction Fromm is taking and he bites his lip anxiously. Fromm seems to notice and leans down to kiss him, his arm moving to wind under his body and hold his hip on the other side, lifting his lower body to hold his weight as his fingers begin to enter Aoba's entrance.
Aoba stiffens, seeing the intrusion coming but surprising nonetheless as he feels Fromm's fingers begin to move. He moans as he feels the other begin to suck on his tongue, the feeling temporarily distracting him from the dull pain he feels down below.
He feels the fingers push in further, a burning stretch consuming the lower half of his body as the heat from Fromm's body pulsates with his own. He groans, moving his hips a little as a means to thwart the feeling away but his hip is pushed down by Fromm's hand, stubborn, as a tongue swipes insistently across his teeth and Fromm's mouth goes to suck his bottom lip.
His hands are in Fromm's hair again, tugging and stroking as Fromm consumes his mouth with a relentless fervor, letting Aoba breathe for a few moments in between kisses before the cycle renews. He has to admit, it's a good distraction technique as he feels Fromm's hand pump in and out of him slowly and leisurely, the stretch burning hotter with each passing second that would've made Aoba's hips shake if it weren't for Fromm holding his hips down.
He gasps when he feels the fingers curl, his tongue going lax against Fromm's as the other does it again; in, curl, stretch, out, repeat.
Fromm releases a groan as he feels his grip loosening on Aoba's hip, his focus shifting towards his other hand as he continues to thrust his fingers continuously, intent on making Aoba make more pleasurable noises. Aoba whines underneath him, the heat spreading and coiling in his lower belly as he shamelessly rocks his hips against Fromm's fingers, desperately searching for some kind of release.
A intense shiver racks his body when he feels Fromm's fingers brush something within, igniting a spark that fuels the flame in his body. His eyes screw shut, tugging at Fromm's hair to bring him closer until the other's head is practically resting on his chest as the fingers inside start to move akin to a scissoring motion.
Fromm's hand continues to pound within Aoba as he mouths on the exposed skin of Aoba's neck, drawing further shudders and moans from the brunet. In the corner of his eye, he watches the reactions on Aoba's face in fascination; the furrow of his eyebrows when he flicks his wrist a certain way and the way his pink mouth falls open in a silent moan when his teeth grazes roughly on the patch of skin under his jaw.
He continues to watch Aoba, his fingers constantly stretching and thrusting inside Aoba, almost in a searching manner.
Where is it?
Fromm watches Aoba's face contort to immense pleasure, his breaths coming out in hot shudders and his hips falter against his own crotch. He tries to ignore the rush of heat that surges through him when Aoba continues to rock his hips, aiming to bring the brunet as much pleasure as possible. Aoba, however, doesn't seem too keen on his release being prolonged as he forces his lips on Fromm's in a bruising kiss, his nails scraping his skull helplessly.
Fromm detaches his mouth when Aoba lets out a long moan and he almost feels disappointed. Aoba's moans increase in intensity and Fromm decides that complying to the brunet's needs is top priority. His other hand reaches down to grasp Aoba's leaking arousal, reddened by the pent up pressure of being neglected.
He doesn't seem to have to do much work; a few pumps and Aoba comes completely undone. He blinks, the sudden climax unforeseen as he wanted to see Aoba's faces for a while longer but from the way Aoba's back slumps against the mattress as he breathes heavily, that situation is highly unlikely.
Though the tiny sliver of drool glistening down Aoba's chin is satisfaction enough.
He's about to get up and clean the mess on his hands - it's cold and starting to dry but it makes Fromm wonder how it tastes - when he hears a small noise of protest coming from the brunet. Aoba sits up and crawls towards him, sitting down close enough so that their knees touch. His face closes in until his lips ghost over Fromm's mouth, his emerald eyes flickering to his before whispering, "Want me to take care of that for you?"
Fromm's face burns and judging by Aoba's amused smile when he pulls away, it probably looked really embarrassing and totally uncool.
His mind wanders back treacherously, images of Aoba's mouth on his erection and his fantasy when he was touching himself flash through his mind and he swears the hotness on his cheeks increase tenfold.
"No, that's not necessary..." he trails off, immediately trying to get rid of those images in fear that Aoba would somehow find out by just one glance to his guilty face.
"You sure?" he hears Aoba ask, the brunet's finger tracing idle circles on his clothed thigh sending warning signals to his brain. He tries to nonchalantly ignore Aoba's heated touch and kisses Aoba's forehead, standing up and turning around quickly so that he didn't have to see the shameless tent in his pants.
"I-It's fine, really. Just think of it as me paying you back for earlier," he stutters, and with that, rushes to seek refuge in the bathroom, leaving an incredibly confused Aoba in his wake.
"Holy shit," is the first thing that leaves his mouth when the door shuts behind him. He rushes to the sink a moment after, deciding that basking in his new-found revelation would be more satisfactory when his hands are clean.
His thoughts rush along with the flow of water, watching bodily fluids flush down the drain like removing evidence from a crime scene.
For some reason, he feels a faint sense of déjà vu...
Once he feels that his hands are thoroughly washed, he closes the tap and wipes his hands on his pants, feeling too intrusive to use the towels already supplied in the bathroom. He sits on the toilet and heaves a drawn out sigh.
Fromm looks up, letting his hair fall into his face and cards a hand through his bangs. He doesn't know what to feel really; it's a plethora of emotions barging in uninvited, leaving him frustrated and confused in the end.
Even though he felt immense pleasure in indulging with the person of his affections, he feels guilty when Aoba asked to take care of him, as he so eloquently put it. It doesn't help that the guilt doesn't subside despite Aoba being the one to initiate and all it does is remind him of the shameless fantasies that the other starred in while he indulged himself.
Aw man, he's gonna think I'm so weird. He groans, the sound reverberating throughout the tiles. Now I feel bad...I just left him alone and ugh. Stupid brain making me feel these things.
It's when he shifts that he remembers the stirring problem further down his body and he slaps his face, his hand dragging down his cheek.
"Are you serious..." he whispers, to no one in particular, and he'd be damned if Aoba were to hear.
Oh yeah. He stands up slowly and approaches the door, opening it and winces at the small creak it lets out. He looks out of the slight opening, his nose barely grazing the door frame and he sees Aoba's back turned to him, completely still, with the comforter drawn over the lower half of his body. He waits for a moment, hearing the soft breathing resounding through the quiet room and slips back into the bathroom, returning to his previous position on the toilet.
Fromm makes sure that the door is locked and reluctantly swipes a towel off the rack and a bottle of lotion from the sink cabinet.
With a shaky breath, his hand reaches down to open the zipper of his pants.
Aoba watches Fromm rush hastily from his bed, the bathroom door shutting behind him resolutely. He blinks, confused, but dismisses it a moment after, chalking the strange behavior as a constant in Fromm's personality.
His body is still quivering, only slightly, but the shakiness of his breath and limbs don't seem slight to him. He gets off the bed, trying to ignore the sting he feels in his lower back, and stretches, the feel of popping bones satisfactory to his ears.
He turns around and inspects the bedsheets, only to see that, surprisingly, not a single mess has been made.
So that means Fromm got it all, he thinks and his cheeks redden afterwards, the image of his own bodily fluids lingering on Fromm's hand too lewd for his liking.
He hears rustling when he steps back, his clothed foot nestling into something soft. Aoba looks down, realizing that he stepped on the jacket and shirt Fromm discarded from earlier and bends to pick them up, admiring the downy material between his fingers.
He takes the clothing to his nightstand, putting down the white shirt on the surface before sudden thought flits through his mind and his blush deepens. He looks around and slowly brings the jacket under his nose. He lets out a little sigh when the comforting smell of Fromm wafts through his nose and he's surprised to enjoy the scent of the ship's standard detergent, to which he thought was horrendously stale.
Aoba brings the jacket down and feels a sense of shame wash through him. I just smelled his clothes...he's gonna think I'm so weird... he thinks, considering to leave the jacket in its rightful place next to the shirt on his nightstand for Fromm to retrieve later.
Or...
He plops down on his bed and rests the jacket on his lap. He brings a hand down to brush away all the creases on the fabric, his hand then resting on the winged emblem of Cygnus.
His fingers trace the golden edges, wondering as to why Fromm's uniform seems to affect him despite sporting the same emblem on his own uniform. He stares at the fabric blankly, contemplative. Hesitantly, he removes his own jacket and unzips the shirt beneath it, leaving him completely naked and vulnerable to the cool air. He scurries back a bit, lifting his feet from the floor and placing them on the bed, crossed.
Aoba glances at the bathroom door again, and upon hearing only silence, he slowly shoves his hand through one of the sleeves and does the same with the other arm. He takes one end of the jacket and folds it over his chest, strapping it on and pats it firmly. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and looks down, noticing how the jacket hangs off his frame loosely without the standard addition of a belt around his waist.
The lengthier side ends of the jacket stretches mid-thigh, though the gap between those ends leave his privates completely exposed.
Aoba feels his face warming up and moves around for the blanket, placing it on his lap as a means of covering up. Even then, the heat on his face doesn't lessen, due to him wearing Fromm's uniform jacket that feels way more comfier than his own, for some apparent reason.
He lies down, resting his arms on his chest (he doesn't ignore how the edges of the sleeves seem to go a bit past his wrists) and looks at the ceiling idly. He contemplates the decision of taking the jacket off now, though it's really warm and smells really nice and Fromm doesn't seem like the kind of person who would mind, right?
Right.
With that thought, he turns around, his front facing the wall and he feels his eyelids slowly closing.
When Fromm exits the bathroom, he feels refreshed and uplifted and not as guilty as he expected to feel after literally jacking off in someone else's bathroom. (He made sure to remove as much evidence as possible and put everything back in place when he was done. He might've also cleaned a bit while he was at it. It doesn't hurt to be careful.)
He feels a bit chilly and searches for his clothes, stroking his own arms as a means of warming them. He recognizes his shirt placed hastily on the nightstand, precariously dangling at the edge and he snatches it, promptly slipping it over his head.
He almost jumps when he hears Aoba exhale and he holds his breath. He lets out a little relieved sigh when he looks over to Aoba's back, the other boy completely still and he almost looks away before something flashes in his mind and he whips his head back around.
Fromm inches closer to the bed, his footsteps light and upon closer inspection, he realizes that Aoba is wearing his jacket.
His jacket. Aoba. Is wearing it. Aoba is wearing his jacket and sleeping in it inside his bed.
He's surprised that the alarm in Aoba's room didn't go off because his face feels like it's on fire and he is so glad that Aoba isn't awake, or he'd never hear the end of it. The image of Aoba making fun of him is daunting, but it's not enough for his cheeks to stop feeling so warm and honestly, he doesn't want to make yet another trip to the bathroom.
Fromm sighs, raking a hand through his even more disheveled hair and stares at Aoba's sleeping form. He's considering turning tail and going back to his room to rest there, but the empty space between Aoba and the wall is really inviting...
He takes a seat at the foot of the bed, planting his palms behind him and leaning his weight on it. Taking another glance at the sleeping boy, he notices how calm Aoba looks and he can't help the smile tugging at his lips. Without a second thought, he steadily crawls to him, nestling himself in between Aoba and the wall.
Now that he's closer, Fromm can see the absolute serenity on Aoba's face and the rise and fall of his chest. He can also see, to his excitement or dismay, Aoba wearing his jacket in full view, one arm stuffed underneath his pillow and the other resting before his chest. Fromm can see his eyelashes fluttering on his cheek every so often, his pink mouth opening and closing in tune with his breathing.
Fromm can feel his smile widening at the sight and he decides against going back to his room. He'd regret missing the chance to sleep right beside the boy that managed to steal his heart without even trying and right when he's shifting around for the blanket, he hears faint rustling next to him and his heart is thumping away again.
"Fromm...?" he hears and his heart starts thumping even harder at the sound of Aoba's voice. Damn these emotions.
"Yeah?" Fromm whispers, and in retrospect, the sound was more breathy than he expected it to be. He lays down, noticing that Aoba isn't showing any sign of protest and turns to his side, getting himself comfortable.
He immediately regrets that decision because he watches Aoba's incredibly adorable display of yawning and rubbing at his eye sleepily and holy shit, Fromm's jacket sleeve covers Aoba's hand so that only his fingers are visible and Fromm is confident that Aoba is trying to kill him.
He gulps a little, his own hand clutching at the bedsheets. He almost bites his tongue when Aoba nudges a bit closer so that there is only a breath's width between them and unbeknownst to Aoba, the blanket covering his lower half slips a little, exposing a thin line of smooth, tan skin.
Fromm can feel his face warming again and Aoba is watching and this is not the time to be distracted by Aoba's thigh - even though it's really beautiful and he has this urge to reach out and just touch -
He snaps out of his daze when he sees Aoba's face moving closer and his eyes squint in what Fromm thinks to be of suspicion. Aoba reaches out and flicks his finger under his nose and when he retracts, he notices a red smudge crowning the the tip of his finger.
"Fromm," Aoba starts, inspecting the smudge further, "why is your nose bleeding...?"
What? Fromm brings a hand to his nose and realizes that yes, that is blood, and he honestly doesn't know as to how to explain to Aoba that apparently his leg was so hot to look at that his nose just started to spontaneously bleed.
"Hang on." Aoba gets up from the bed to probably retrieve tissues and before Fromm can even consider saying anything, he sees the entirety of Aoba's legs and he almost chokes on his breath when he realizes that he is wearing nothing underneath.
When Aoba turns around with tissues in hand, he drops them in surprise upon seeing Fromm's appearance.
"Fromm, your nose is still bleeding! Hey! Are you even awake?! Fromm!"
Aoba wakes to light breathing, one that is definitely not his own and he flinches, his arm accidentally smacking his bed's other occupant in the ribs.
Fromm jolts from his slumber, muttering profanities under his breath and rubs at his now sore chest.
"What the hell," he says, giving Aoba the most nastiest glare that he can muster.
Aoba blinks, memories from last night rushing through him - Fromm and him in very intimate situations, Fromm's sudden nosebleed, them sleeping together afterwards - and he lets out a little laugh.
"Sorry," he smiles, sheepish. "I guess I forgot that someone else was in my bed."
Fromm pouts, reaching out a hand to playfully pinch Aoba's cheek. "Let's not make it a daily occurrence, then."
Aoba's smile widens, his heart giving a little soar at the insinuation in Fromm's statement. He wouldn't mind waking up to Fromm's arms in the morning, actually. His cheeks flush at that prospect and he decides to look at their situation instead, seeing how Fromm's arms are wrapped around his waist firmly, their legs entangled beneath the sheets and there is a little puddle of drool on the pillow under where Fromm's chin would've been.
"Yeah, you conveniently 'forgot' that someone was in your bed, huh? Believable."
Aoba snorts. "Shut it."
"Hmmm. Make me."
The smirk on Fromm's mouth is challenging and Aoba is more than happy to oblige his request. He cups Fromm's cheek with his free hand and brushes his lips against Fromm's, his eyelids slipping to a close as the hold around his waist tightens and Fromm tilts his own head to slot their mouths together more firmly.
Aoba's chest feels light and Fromm's touch is really warm. He sighs into his mouth, pressing his mouth even closer. He startles when he feels a sudden grope on his backside and the distinct noise of a chuckle.
"Fromm!"
i'm sorry mother.
as usual, my endings are shit. oh well. apologies if there are any typos or sudden tense changes. i'm not very good at proofreading. :/
and once again, my dilemma if i should continue this or not ensues. i'll make it complete for now, since i don't want to go through that entire hiatus thing again.
title is from "one in a million" by down with webster.
p.s. is there ship name for these two? i would love to make one but i can't of any good ones :/