The cleaning up was not his favorite part. Especially not when he was left to do it alone — which was a rare thing. They usually made an event out of sanitizing all the toys, and maybe a few times that had ended in even more of a mess — just a sudsy one. Then they'd probably get to talking about a new thing they'd seen or heard about that might be fun to try, and, if they had time, would take a spontaneous trip to the adult store to see what else they were missing out on, if anything.

At this point, there was probably very little that they hadn't done yet, and sometimes Asahi would lay awake at night, tracing Kisumi's sound silhouette with his eyes, knowing that he was the luckiest fucking man in the world, and utterly amazed that he in all his bumbling, stumbling, dumb-decision flaws and short-comings had landed a gem of an ethereal being as a husband. Most times it made him grateful, but if he thought about it too hard, he would inevitably find himself scratching for answers as to why, out of all the people in the universe, Kisumi had chosen him back.

And that's about when he would shift closer and curl his limbs around him, holding him close and praying with the very little faith he had in whatever gods existed that his best friend would forever remain the healthy, happy, porcelain person that he was and never come to the realization that there was far better out there for him.

He splashed his face with cold water, once everything was cleaned up and put away, just to temper the red in his skin, which never truly went away. Then he ventured back to the front door and opened it quietly to find Kisumi and Hiyori leaning against the rail shoulder-to-shoulder.

They were in the midst of talking, voices quiet, and Asahi could see the tremble in Hiyori's back as he hung his head and slumped forward. There was nothing but sympathy in Kisumi's face. He leaned on one elbow to stretch his arm around Hiyori and prop his chin consolingly on his shoulder, muttering comforts in his ear. He had Hiyori's glasses in his free hand, leaving Hiyori free to bury his face in his palms as he felt the need.

Asahi breathed out a quiet breath and settled with leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

As blissfully happy as they were these days, he and Kisumi weren't without their moments like this, especially before their marriage. He was sure he'd done and said things raw and rough enough to leave Kisumi in shambles in Tono's presence too. In fact, he knew he had. That was the exact reason they'd gotten so close over the years. Between Hiyori, Makoto, and Asahi's own sister, Kisumi had built a solid support system for himself outside of Asahi himself, for those moments when they couldn't stand to be next to each other. And Asahi had done the same through people like Ikuya, and Haru, and Nao. It was necessary, just as much for their friends who also sought comfort from them in this exact way, so he didn't interrupt.

"I think you guys have trouble telling each other what you need," Kisumi said after a little while of letting the breeze go by. "Just from an outside perspective. It's not at all that you don't love him, or that he doesn't love you. You just have to work on your communication, and by no means is that a new thing for any couple."

"You know Ikuya has to curl into a corner by himself every once in a while," Asahi spoke up. No, he didn't know the specifications of what the argument was this time, but it hardly ever changed for those two. He'd gathered enough across the day. "He's shit about expressing why it is he's feeling that way in each specific moment. It annoys the hell out of me too. But I know it's not personal. Him telling you he needs space, doesn't equate to how he feels about you. He just needs space sometimes. As longs as he's not starving himself in the dark for weeks at a time, it's okay for him to have a minute."

Hiyori lifted his head. His cheeks were blotched with color and glimmering with still-running tears. "But how am I supposed to know when that's happening or not?"

"You just have to trust him," Kisumi said, smoothing a hand between his shoulders.

"If the roles were reversed, would you want him breathing down your neck when all you want is to be alone for five minutes?"

Kisumi gave him a scolding look, letting him know that was not at all the most considerate way to address someone who was feeling like a pile of shit. Asahi just shrugged, but Hiyori stood to his full height and wiped the wet from his face with a sniff.

"No."

Asahi cocked his head to Kisumi with a haughty eyebrow.

Kisumi rolled his eyes and handed Hiyori back his glasses. "Just let him be for the night. More than likely, he'll reach out to you on his own far sooner than you think. It'll be fine. I promise."

Hiyori nodded, still sniffing, and slid his glasses back onto his face. He turned very willingly when Kisumi opened his arms for him, and heaved a long sigh with his chin tucked against Kisumi's shoulder, arms holding him tightly around the waist.

"I just worry about him so much," he mumbled.

"I know you do," Kisumi said, stroking down the back of his hair.

"Haru and Makoto are with him by now," Asahi said. "He has other people watching out for him too, Tono. You don't have to take it all on by yourself."

He nodded and settled with another sigh. "You're right," he admitted.

Asahi sucked his teeth and pushed himself out of his lean. "Great. That's all settled then. Why don't we—"

"Go out for ice cream," Kisumi interrupted, throwing a pointed look over Hiyori's shoulder.

Asahi slumped in protest and gestured back to the apartment to remind him that they'd meant for this day to be about them, not Tono's sniffling.

Kisumi rolled his eyes again and mouthed, We needed a break anyway.

This WAS a break, Asahi mouthed right back.

Kisumi had a lot of silent hand gestures to give in return and it ended with him motioning very sharply to Hiyori who was still slumped against him.

Asahi gritted his teeth with an airless groan and turned his back to drop his forehead on the wall and slap the irritation out over his head.

"I found a new place just a few blocks from here," Hiyori said, standing straight again. (Asahi was one-hundred percent sure Hiyori was aware that he was taking up their time, but just ignoring the fact.)

"Perfect," Kisumi said, wiping his cheeks for him. "We'll go there then."

Asahi sat at the table across from them, leaning back against the chair with his arms crossed, watching. Hiyori was all smiles now, which was better than the crying, but Asahi couldn't have longed any harder to be back at home. Though, he remained patient and allowed the time to pass without complaining, mostly because he was appeasing himself by admiring Kisumi and all his grace and gifts for being a warmth that other people could attach themselves to.

That was the whole reason Asahi and Tono were both here right now, the reason Tono was smiling, the reason they were able to so nonchalantly share a decorated sundae on a city sidewalk table, when a mere hour ago, Hiyori had been blubbering like a five-year-old that hadn't taken a nap.

Asahi wanted to be more upset than he was that he had to share his husband right now, wanted to be upset overall that other people needed him, other people loved him, other people wanted him in their lives too. But Kisumi was too exceptional to horde, and he knew that. That wouldn't stop him from rippling with jealously any time another man (or woman, or otherwise) looked at him with the kind of gaze that should have been Asahi's right to wield alone. That wouldn't stop him from quietly bristling when he was touched by hands that weren't his own, even if those touches were innocent. He wasn't about to leap across the table and put Hiyori in a chokehold for acting so comfortable with Kisumi, but he truly did really want to be back at home with the man he'd married — alone.

He let the selfishness rest there, because sometimes that was all that he got to have, but did also marvel Kisumi's comforting presence and how it rubbed off on more than just him.

He was lucky.

And steadily more in love as each day soared by.

The sun was setting by the time they made it back home. Hiyori was no longer in tow, and the difference was amazing. Asahi's eyes watched Kisumi's back very carefully as he unlocked the door and led the way into the apartment.

"I guess at this point we should just order something then," Kisumi rambled, mostly to himself. "We should have gone grocery shopping yesterday. I don't think there's much left in the fridge."

Asahi eased the door shut behind them, pointedly turned the lock, and let Kisumi get his shoes off. However, the moment he lifted a foot to step out of the genkan, Asahi had him snatched by the arm and shoved so hard back against the door that he hiccupped a gasp and his eyes went wide. Asahi's grip was not kind, and his other hand slammed on the wall just over his head as he put his face close and narrowed a glare on him.

They weren't the same height. Kisumi was, in fact, a smidgen taller than him. He always, always lamented that, but he absolutely never allowed it to stop him from being intimidating.

"We're not eating right now," he stated.

The smallest spark of excitement ignited in Kisumi's eyes. "Oh. Okay."

Asahi switched his grip from his bicep to his chin and roughly pinched his cheeks between his fingers, pushing his head back. "You piss me off, you know. Our friends can have their time, when they need their time, but just so you know, I'm not ever going to let things like that pass so easily. You understand?"

Kisumi nodded as best he could and whispered a weak "Yes."

"I get to rage fuck you now. And that's all on you, just be aware of that. Strip."

He took a full step back, tucking his arms across his chest, and left his eyes heavy and unyielding.

"Here?"

Asahi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and Kisumi promptly obeyed. He did it casually, took his time hanging his jacket, shed his shirt as though he was simply changing outfits for the night. He blinked at Asahi once his head was free though, and he shook his tousled hair to prompt it to lay back down.

"Just me?" he asked.

"Just you. Put a little more thought into the rest of it, would you."

Kisumi bit down a smirk and kept his eyes on Asahi's face as he toyed with the button of his jeans for an elongated moment, then popped it loose and slowly pulled down the zipper. He tilted his head, eyelashes fluttering.

"Won't you do it for me?"

"No."

He sucked his teeth, then slid his hands along either side of his hips and eased the jeans down his thighs, allowing them to fall the rest of the way thereafter. He stepped out of them with ease, and pushed them to the side with a dainty foot. Then he turned to show off his back and stretched his body with his hands raking through his hair, very aware of how to languidly pose without making it look too campy. He peeked back over his shoulder and smoothed a hand over his ass and around his thigh, bending over slightly, watching Asahi all the while. Asahi kept the weight of his stare and let him know through that alone that he was unamused, and it only took a few seconds for Kisumi to pout about it.

He faced forward again and eased his underwear off of his waist, picking his foot up this time to slide it off his ankle with dainty fingers, then he tossed it and propped his hands on his hips.

"Socks," Asahi said shortly. "We're not that type of couple."

Kisumi sucked his teeth again, peeled his socks off of his feet, and threw them in a wad across the room. "Happy?"

"Hands on the door."

"We're really doing this right here?"

"Hands. On. The door."

"Yes, sir," he sighed, turning again and lazily bracing his palms over his head.

Asahi closed the gap between them, shoved down the back of his neck with one hand, and yanked his hips back with the other, forcing him to catch another breath. "Bend over."

"Fuck."

"Stay like that," he ordered, then walked off to rummage back through their toy chest in the bedroom.

He picked out the black, leather paddle that didn't get enough attention (in his own opinion), and returned to the genkan where Kisumi was still bent over. He glanced at Asahi approaching him, and his eyes immediately darted back to the door, body tensing with anticipation.

"What's the phrase?" Asahi prompted.

"Code: Sousuke's a cub."

Asahi struck him in the ass with the paddle — hard. He gasped and hung his head, fingers curling against the door.

"Ask for more."

"May I have another?"

SMACK!

"Holy … shit," he hissed through his teeth.

SMACK!

"Fuck, Asahi!"

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry, baby."

He smacked him again, and the sound left a ringing reverberation in the air. Kisumi's arms trembled, and he absently lifted a palm off the door, just to set it right back where it was.

"I'm not 'baby' right now," Asahi said.

"I'm sorry, daddy."

"Look at me … No. Keep your hands on the fucking door and look at me."

Kisumi did as instructed, misty eyes peeking back over his shoulder through his bangs.

"Say it again."

"Daddy, I'm sorry."

Asahi gave him a much lighter tap this time, but he flinched with another gasp as though prepared for the worst. "The next time we decide we're devoting an entire Saturday to our sex life, what are we not going to do?"

"Answer the door."

"And what are you not going to do?"

"Take Hiyori out for ice cream to make him feel better."

"And why is that?"

Kisumi gnawed at his bottom lip and didn't respond for a moment, so Asahi leaned over his back with a palm steadied above his head and gave him a much sharper swat this time. Kisumi yelped a moan.

"Why is that?" he repeated.

"Because … it interrupts our time?"

SMACK!

"Fu-huck~" he sobbed, head dropping again.

Asahi leaned his lips against the shell of his ear. "It's because you're my husband. And when we make those kinds of agreements, that time belongs to me, not Tono. You understand?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Get loud."

He stood straight again and eyed Kisumi's butt like it was the bullseye on a target. He did not have mercy on him. Every succeeding spank was sharper than the last, and Kisumi's skin went full deep pink under the sting. He shrieked, each gasp rolling right into the next, and his body trembled head-to-foot, struggling to stay bent over in that position, and Asahi struck him harder whenever one of his hands slipped off the door.

"Daddy~"

SMACK!

"Please, daddy!"

"Had enough?"

He shook his head vigorously, gasping for air. "No," he whined.

SMACK!

"Fuck …"

"Stand up."

He started to do so, slowly, because his knees were shaking, but Asahi didn't have the patience. He curled an arm around him, took him by the throat, and forced his back straight, pushing him up against the door without hesitation. A hoarse groan choked out of him and his fingers gripped Asahi's forearm, but he stayed still for the few seconds that it took Asahi to dig his dick out of his pants and push into him with little more than the saliva they'd relied on earlier in the day.

Kisumi's moan was muffled by the seal of his lips. It mostly pushed itself out of his nose with both agony and gratitude. He automatically tipped his head back on Asahi's shoulder and deepened the arch in his back. Asahi was already plowing away, biting hard at his own lip to keep himself tempered, even though he still had no mercy on him. Every motion was snappy and rough, and he put most of what he had into it, covered in chills at the strained desperation in Kisumi's voice and the slickness of his already wet skin.

"Who's time is this?" he growled quietly in his ear.

"Ah-Asahi's."

He slapped his ass with his free hand. "Who does this belong to?"

"Nnugh …You."

"No one else?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No-No one else, daddy. It's — fuck — it's all yours."

"You gonna be good from now on? Or are you gonna keep being a little shit?"

"Yes," he gasped, knees buckling.

"Yes. You like when I get rough with you huh?"

"Mmhmm," he moaned.

"Yeah?" Asahi cooed, thrusting deep.

Kisumi whimpered, his very bones deflating. "God, don't stop."

He shivered with another cry when Asahi spanked him again, barely able to push his hips back in search for more, even though he managed.

"Choke me, daddy," he whined, fingers digging into Asahi's arm.

He obliged, squeezing lightly with the grip he already had on Kisumi's throat. His breathing became strangled, but his tone deepened with longing. He melted against Asahi's body, eyes closed, sweat dripping down his temples, drool wetting his lips.

Asahi wouldn't necessarily call this his favorite, but it was exhilarating. And it had a special place every now and then. They never half-assed sex, but the kind of effort that went into getting ruthless was reserved for exceptional days. Exceptional days in which they knew they had the time and the patience to recover after, when stripping themselves down to the bone was easy, because they were in a good place and their trust in one another was unwavering. They knew the time was right when all the unspoken conversations made it clear that they were adamant about protecting each other, forgiving each other, supporting each other, and far from in a rush to go anywhere. Those were the times they knew it was safe. Those were the times they unleashed the most of what they had. And those times were probably some of the most fundamental to their relationship. Asahi would give them a fair amount of credit for strengthening their confidence in one another across the years.

Kisumi moaned sharply, a shrill sound that was cut across by choked gasps as his body jolted and he came. Asahi pushed harder on his throat with his thumb, further straining his cries, and continued to drive into him, turning his voice up in octaves. He bit his shoulder and dug the rest of his fingers into his thigh, keeping him suctioned to his own body as tightly as he could. The ecstasy rippled through him in teasing waves, dampening his clothes with his own sweat, shaking the bones in his legs too, but he remained steadfast and forward all the way to the end.

He was already cumming by the time he yanked Kisumi back from the door and forced him down on his knees in front of him. His grip went back to his chin, pushing his head back to leave his face open for the rest of his seed. His thumb pressed into his bottom lip, and he watched his tongue curl up out of his mouth, eagerly licking at the air in search of a drop. Most of it landed on his cheek, some on the bridge of his nose, some on his lips and his chin. He lifted a hand to squeeze at Asahi's thigh — a silent plea — and Asahi allowed him to suck what was left clean from his cock.

He dropped his head back with a heavy breath and a groan, shivering from the pulsing aftershocks. He pushed his hips forward just for a minute, just to revel in that last little bit, before he pulled back and watched his cock slip out of Kisumi's rosy lips.

He blinked up at him, eyes still dark and hazed over, tears clinging to his eyelashes. His cheeks, ears, and neck were all a passionate red, face streaked with Asahi's DNA, hair plastered to his forehead. An absolute mess and he couldn't have been more perfect.

Asahi stripped his shirt off and used it to clear Kisumi's face with gentle strokes that Kisumi nuzzled into with his eyes softly closed. Asahi tossed it to the side after, then raked his fingers back through Kisumi's hair and encouraged him to stand straight into a kiss. It was slow, and hungry, and lavish, patient and brimming with plenty of silent sweet nothings. They both tempered out long, relieved sighs, and Asahi pulled Kisumi's body flush against his own, pecking the corner of his lips and then suckling the warm skin of his neck. Kisumi hummed another sigh, fingers sliding into Asahi's back pockets.

"Cuddle with me," Asahi whispered.

Kisumi gave a purring noise of consent.