NB: For Faikitty, because our conversations make me creative.
Sometimes Akari thwarts all expectations.
Hirato learns new things with every romp. For example, if he brushes his lips along the shell of the blond's ear while en flagrante delicto, he's rewarded with the tiniest shiver. An unexpected sweep of barely-there fingers along the inside of the doctor's thigh is met with a soft gasp. If he wants Akari to moan, he closes his mouth over the jut of the other's hipbone and sucks, his teeth barely scoring that delicate, ultra-sensitive patch of skin. Such tricks inevitably produce the expected outcome.
So Hirato bristles when all his tricks elicit nothing more than an intake of breath slightly sharper than typical. The brunet essays another go, gingerly increasing the pressure of his fingertips, adding a touch more vehemence to his bite. Akari remains largely impassive.
Defeated, he kisses the physician gently, unsure of the cause of such dispassion. "What's wrong?" he asks, abandoning his usual façade for one betraying concern.
Akari's eyes narrow. Realizing that his concern was much warranted, the captain props his head on an elbow and regards his bedmate. He would love nothing more than to continue his ministrations, but that hard, opaline gaze stops him short. "Why does everyone treat me like I'm some precious gem?"
Rather afield of what he anticipated, true, but Hirato is nothing if not adaptive. A careful hand brushes aside strawberry blond hair. "Well, the penalties for endangering SSS-ranked personnel are pretty unforgiving." His lips curve mischievously. "Theoretically, I could get into trouble for this." Violet eyes rake down pale skin hungrily, but neither man misses the affection in them.
"Not for this," Akari answers. The brunet doesn't quite catch the double meaning.
"You're probably right. We're consenting adults, after all."
The blond sighs exasperatedly, obliging the commander's attention. "Not my point," he huffs.
"Then what is?"
"Just once, I wish you'd take me like you're willing to get arrested for it."
Understandably, Hirato's brain stops functioning. But he is a soldier and therefore inured to the vicissitudes of warzones; bedrooms should be short work. When his thought processes come back online, there's a predatory leer to his hooded gaze and a dangerous smile alighting his face. He presses against Akari, muscular limbs trapping the blond under him. Long, dexterous fingers wind in the physician's hair, gripping tightly. And as the captain leans down to take the other's lips in his teeth, he tugs at that hair with uncustomary roughness. The doctor practically growls while his toes fight for purchase in the sheets.
"Like I'm willing to get arrested, right?" Hirato inquires in a ravenous hush. Coral eyes glint in anticipation as Akari nods permissively.
And Hirato knows he'll never grow weary of discovering Akari.