Hizashi was a bold man. He was confident, boisterous, perky, a babbler, open and kind; all the things a social butterfly would need to truly flourish. He had always been that way; had gone through a bit of his awkward stage at that thirteen-year mark but by the time he enrolled and attended U.A? Oh, he had been brimming with those personality factors; he couldn't be shut up, he was popular with the girls in his class.
And even though his voice took a while to break he still happily shouted when he waltzed into the classroom which had never failed to make Shouta cringe. He was a loud, bold person and there was no changing that about him. Of course, just because he was a bold and loud person, perky and boisterous, it didn't mean he couldn't get embarrassed and it didn't mean he couldn't be shy. In fact, despite his loud mouth he had to admit even to himself that in those tentative early years of their friendship that he had been very shy around Shouta.
He tried going through his life with his mothers' helpful tips, little tidbits of advice and tried not to care what others thought about him. Tried. But the second he offered a friendship with Shouta, the minute Oboro tied them together, he found that he cared about how he came across to Shouta. He cared what the black-haired teen thought of him back then. He still did. It had taken many slip ups for him to realize that while, yes, he was annoying to his husband in their youth that Shouta still did care about him in some way.
Enough to keep him around and to put effort into friendship. Strange how the minute Oboro died, how they dealt with that fall out, that he tried so hard to put the effort into their new relationship and how Shouta had just given up. How it flip flopped the second they scraped out of high school; how HE didn't care anymore and Shouta seemed to clutch at their relationship with a strangle hold.
Of course, once he got his shit together, he tried to piece himself back together into that bright, boisterous and perk person he'd been. He tried too at least. It wasn't as easy as going back into his old personality but rather his mind, his personality, changed with the way life was just ripping him from one side to the other. And he found he liked who he was when he came out of that. When he was pieced together to find his husband still there by his side, waiting for him to get his shit together.
Waiting for him to understand he wasn't the only one going through Hell in those years. And so, he became bright. He started talking animatedly again, he crooned and fawned over little things, he threw himself back into their relationship once they reevaluated and got back together in college. He put everything into himself, into them, and into his friendships he thought he'd ripped apart. He was grateful he kicked himself in the ass to do it, had Nemuri and Shouta slamming their own feet into his ass to get him sober.
He may not be perfect but he was himself and that's all he could be thankful for. He was unashamedly loud, unashamedly perky, and a babbler; a true social butterfly who wasn't afraid to curl in on himself if need be or to encourage others to be just as bright, just as loud and social with others. It was perhaps why he was able to do the things he could do; his boldness, his confidence, really helped him in going into things with an open mind, a willingness to try, and the patience required for it.
That's why when three days of Shouta needing his break turned into a week, he didn't blink an eye. He didn't care because he got to squeeze, cuddle, spoon and twist up with his husband happily whenever they possibly had the chance. He doted and fawned over the man, showering him with his 'flowery' words as the man called it but Shouta didn't once push him away. He truly didn't care about the sex at that time; he wanted Shouta happy, content, and he wanted him relaxed.
He wanted him to have time to breathe. Not every relationship or marriage needed to be filled with sex; it didn't need to burn or sizzle with heat when they were alone, but rather it could be filled with warmth that had his chest aching as he squeezed Shouta to his chest when they laid together. He was happy, he was absolutely delighted, and he was overjoyed he got to kiss, nuzzle and squeeze his husband like he was nothing more than a true, overgrown kitten.
And yet for all the sweetness, for all the domestic and heartwarming moments, Hizashi was reminded time and time again of one single fact; he was a person. He was a person that -while he was relishing in all the physical affection and contact with his husband- he needed more than that sometimes. And it was this realization that had him finally resorting to those things he'd said he would when Shouta had questioned him with that faint note of worry about what he'd do if Shouta didn't want sex.
He looked at his pictures, he read their spicey texts, he had all the unlimited porn he could ever want, and he had his imagination that honestly worked far better than watching someone who vaguely resembled his husband on Pornhub and he had the toys, the vibrators, the gag if he really wanted to get himself worked up. He had everything he needed to satisfy himself. And it worked. It really did work.
He was perhaps rubbing one out a bit too often for his liking but he didn't think anything of it; he thought it was because he had been ignoring his own needs for half of that second week that in the start of their third, he was merely pent up and he was. He was pent up so he had set to work on not ignoring that need. After all, he'd used to ignore his body signals and warnings as a kid which led him to quite a few bladder infections, led him to end up sick as a dog in bed, and burn out from his hyper fixations.
But then he realized how hard it was to masturbate on his own. How hard it was when the past four days, Sunday to today on Thursday, his husband seemed to have at least three wet dreams alone in this week alone. And oh, that was hard. It was so, so hard even if he didn't have his hearing aids in. He could still feel Shouta squirming, the arms tightening around him as Shouta ground his hips against him and his breath shuddered against his back with fast excited little breaths or the longer ones that signaled breathier, longer sounds or sighs.
It was fucking torture. He didn't want to say a single thing to his husband come morning- no, he wouldn't say a thing. He didn't want to embarrass Shouta, he didn't want him to feel ashamed or upset that he was doing something like that when there was no need for shame. So he didn't even think of bringing it up. And yet the second time it happened he'd gotten up to use the bathroom. He had detangled himself from his husband who was drooling on his pillow with Cosmo sleeping above his head and his lashes had fluttered brows coming together a few times as if he knew Hizashi was leaving.
He thought nothing of it. It was only on his way back, in the darkness of the room that he saw the blankets moving with his husband's squirming, writhing movements that had frozen him to the spot. He didn't go back to bed; he migrated to the couch instead. The third one? That was last night. And that one? Oh, that one was the worst. He'd gone straight from the school on patrol, something that ran him late to getting home and while he initially felt guilt for not putting Eri to bed, he had felt double guilt over not being home for dinner on time.
Guilty about not keeping his husband company until Eri got out of school. Keeping them both company. He just hated the thought of his husband sitting alone in the house with only their cats to comfort him. He had hated that. But when he got home the house had been still, quiet and dark as he made his way to the bedroom to get his costume off, to shower and to climb into bed. Only to walk right into the bedroom on Shouta, once again, in the midst of a wet dream.
And it was awful. Awful because not only was the lamp on allowing him to see the flush on his face, throwing the angles of his face into such a stunning contrast but he could hear the sounds he'd only felt that one time. Tthe soft moans, the fast quick breaths that flew in and out, a few groans and whimpers peppered into them but the worst part? Oh, the worst part had been hearing his husband sigh his name over and over, whimper it a few times with a few garbled words thrown in, and how he squirmed on the blankets with an almost desperate manner.
He had banished himself to the couch again. He snagged a pair of pajamas from the dresser quietly, ignoring the little breathy sounds from behind him, and used the bathroom upstairs to shower and get ready for bed before climbing on the couch with the pillow and blanket he'd stashed behind the arm chair. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with his husband having a wet dream. There was nothing wrong with having one and hell, in the past he would often watch his husband ride them out before poking him awake offering to make that little dream a reality.
And that would then lead to a damn good round of sex for them both. But he couldn't' do that now. He refused. He was satisfying himself, even if it felt harder knowing his husband was rooms away squirming on a bed sighing his name out in such a pleading way that it felt like agony to lie on the couch. Pure agony. However, he was honoring his husband's wish. He didn't feel capable of sex, he wanted a break.
So, if keeping himself away from the temptation of asking if he was ready for it then he would banish himself to the couch. He would continue to take care of himself and he would focus on parenting Eri, on helping Hitoshi and Denki with their English assignments, on cooking their lunches and breakfasts, and he would focus on tying up any loose ends for their anniversary. He would do anything, everything, to keep from his husband feeling like he had to do something for him.
He didn't want to ever make it seem like Shouta was obligated to help him sexually; obligated to do anything for him. He wasn't. Just because they were married didn't mean that Shouta had 'marital duties' to him and that extended to any thoughts of having to help Hizashi out sexually. That wasn't it. He wouldn't allow that thought to ever appear in his husband's mind. So, he'd slept on the couch, curled up tightly as he willed his body to calm down.
To ignore the thoughts running and whispering to him as wickedly as any demonic force could and by some miracle, he fell asleep. When he woke this morning, he hadn't cooked breakfast; he'd gotten his costume on, gotten his hair ready in the upstairs bathroom, and brushed his teeth then flew out the door all before Shouta woke. He was gone before the man's alarm even went off. He knew this was awful of him, he knew he shouldn't do something like that, but he had.
He even avoided Shouta most of the morning successfully but like with any person he needed to eat and he needed a bathroom pitstop; two windows of opportunity for a confrontation. He thought he had slipped away without being noticed, flying into the bathroom without anyone noticing through the throng of students in the hallway, but it was standing before the urinal with Cementoss and Snipe talking to him before leaving that Shouta had appeared in the doorway like an avenging God.
Dark energy seemed to crackle off of the black-haired man, his arms tight over his chest and he'd hissed at the blonde what his problem was; why he had left, why he hadn't come to bed, why he was avoiding him all morning. To many hurling questions that demanded answers that he honestly was in awe. The way his eyes caught the light just right to make that gray in them stand out and how they flashed like lightening at him.
How his lip had curled, his nostrils flaring, and how his jaw would click lightly when he slid it side to side in between his snapping words that Hizashi was left in nothing but awe. Left him stunned to see the yellow of his quirk flickering in his eyes occasionally as if he were forgetting himself. And it was a beautiful sight. An angry Shouta was beautiful and he felt like he was about to be given some kind of awful punishment by that avenging God.
It had taken him a combined six minutes to realize his mouth had dropped open, he had long since finished with his piss and was standing there with his dick out and that not one of Shouta's words had really connected at first. So, he shook off, tucked himself away, and washed his hands all before turning to Shouta offering lunch to him. For them to eat. To talk. And so they did. He explained the best he could why he was on the couch; not mentioning the wet dreams was hard, why they impacted him so much.
While it was dishonest at the time, he planned on bringing it up later when it didn't feel so tense with his husband and it took them a good portion of their lunch break for those tense shoulders of his husband's to relax. He was grateful when they did. He wasn't immediately forgiven, which he didn't blame him for, but after hesitantly telling his husband he was going out with Nemuri after work to go shopping, he'd gotten a grunt for an answer before his husband returned back to his classroom.
The rest of the day flew by, honestly; giving lessons, breaking up disagreements, trying to get his students to speak in English while in class and handing out worksheets, hanging out homework sheets, test dates and additional homework assignments that by the time the bell rang he was surprised. So, naturally once his students trickled into the hallway, he'd gotten his things together, ran by Shouta's classroom the second the last student left it, and flew in to give him a kiss before flying off with Nemuri to her car.
Which led him to this moment, this exact minute in time, watching Nemuri happily bounce in her heels as she smiled at him brightly and he smirked back. Shouta, whether he knew it or not, was going to be blown off of his feet next week on their anniversary. He was going to be absolutely punch gut, breathless when he saw just what Hizashi had planned for the both of them. He then felt his phone vibrate in his pocket against his ass and he reached back tugging it out of the pocket unlocking the screen quickly to find a text waiting for him from Shouta.
Sho-chan: did u have anythin in mind 4 dinner?
Zashi-chan: Mmmm, nothing specific! Was there something you were going to make?
Sho-chan: we hve the stuff fo nikujaga or i cn make curry w rice
Zashi-chan: Oooohhh, it's been a while since we've had nikujaga! Why don't we have that instead? If you don't mind cooking it! I know you've had a long day! Shit was hard on you today.
Sho-chan: meh. wht time will u b home? so i can cook
Zashi-chan: I don't know yet! Do you want me to pick anything up for dinner? Or snacks? Or any drinks?
Sho-chan: hmmmm, u still gotta get hte lube, condoms n wipes
Zashi-chan: Oh? I thought you said we wouldn't need'em for a while? Why do you want me to pick them up? 😉
Sho-chan: just get them
Zashi-chan: Fine, fine! I can have Nem drop me off by the store near the house, grab those then walk home!
Sho-chan: thx
Zashi-chan: Would you want anything while I was there?
Sho-chan: mmm i dont think so
Sho-chan: wait i want chocolate
Sho-chan: get me tht
Zashi-chan: Anything else? You want some chips or crackers? Some water or juice?
Sho-chan: get me a dr pepper
Zashi-chan: Shouta, I love you so much, but PLEASE do not have me get you a Dr. Pepper just for you to leave in the car until it's flat or hot!
Zashi-chan: I have done many things against God but please don't let me rope me into this awful sin of yours! C'mon, Sho! Don't!
Sho-chan: dont question my methods
Sho-chan: i can drink my beverages how i plz
Sho-chan: bsides I thought u LIKED sinning wit me 😏
Zashi-chan: Of course, I like sinning with you! But this is a crime against NATURE! Aaagggghhh why am I married to you again?
Zashi-chan: You ENJOY hot, flat Dr. Pepper! Especially when you've JUST devoured chocolate! What kind of person does that?
Sho-chan: the type of person u love n will be celebrating 16 yrs wit 😏
Zashi-chan: You're an actual monster. 😱
"Zash, c'mon! Stop texting and move, you're in the way!" He looked up at Nemuri's scolding tone, looking over his shoulder at a few women behind him and he offered a smile that got him a few titters.
"Sorry about that! Have a lovely day, lady listeners!" He stumbled when a hand grabbed his coat sleeve yanking him out of the way, a yelp leaving him, and of course there was a gasp that he recognized after years of being in the limelight as a Pro-Hero; a realization in that simple sound. The sound of being recognized and the pieces, the appearance of his, being clicked together with his cheerful words.
He didn't bother turning as Nemuri yanked him out of the store into the mall again, a few squeals ringing out from behind him, and while he knew he should be worried about being spotted in a women's lingerie store he could easily brush it away given Nemuri was with him. After all, friends went into stores together, didn't they? And he didn't care too much about what others would say. He'd made it well known he was married though no one, not a single person, knew who he was married to.
He refused to throw Shouta into the limelight like that; it had even been in his vows at their wedding. He would never, ever, out Shouta as his partner and unless Shouta wanted that then it would remain under tight wraps. No one outside their coworkers and friends knew of their marriage. Nezu, of course, knew given he was their employer but other than that not a single soul knew. They refused to let more know, only letting a select few know of their marriage.
"You can text your husband in your own time, Zash, not when you're standing in line!" Nemuri huffed at him playfully as she shifted his bags to her left hand, holding her own in her right, only for her to blow a puff of air at him. He smiled at the woman as they made their way towards the escalators. "Anyways, you shouldn't be texting in line period when you know we're almost done! What has this man said that's got you all giggly over?"
"I haven't giggled once!"
"No, but you looked hopeful which is just as guilty as giggling. How long has it been anyways?" He tensed staring at the woman, his shoulders tensing up, and he swore he felt a heat burning in his neck threatening to sweep up to his cheeks as he narrowed his eyes on Nemuri.
"None of your business!
He hadn't said a damn thing to her about the situation. Her eyes flicked up, playful and sparkling at him as her lips tugged into another smile as they stepped onto the escalator, her red nails tapping lightly against the -in his opinion- possibly disgusting handrail. "Don't look at me like that. I know you haven't been getting any ass lately, so what did you do? And how long has it been?"
"Again I say, madam, is none of your business!" He shot back, making her brows raise when his phone vibrated again pulling his attention down to the device he still held tight in his hand before turning back to Nemuri with a scoff as he tilted his head up playfully; giving the air of someone offended.
"Oh ho? None of my business, huh?"
He narrowed his eyes at Nemuri, hoping he gave the feeling of someone of upper society being questioned on if they had the money for something. That is what he tried to convey as they stepped off the escalator, heading right towards the doors they'd come through and he clicked his piercing against the back of his teeth staring at the drizzling rain. He hoped, prayed, that it didn't rain on their anniversary next week. He'd have to look into that.
"And besides, it doesn't matter one bit to you! At least I have a husband to get ass from!"
"So, it's been a while, huh?"
"Shut the hell up, you harlot! I don't want to hear another word from you! You will drop me at the corner store near my house and that will be our parting way!"
"Getting sex stuff, I see I see. Running low on lube and condoms?" He turned his head, looking away from her when she smirked up at him with a very childish 'hmph!' as they flew through the doors out into the drizzling rain with fast, purposeful strides and he felt that blush crawl right up into his cheeks weakly as Nemuri's delighted laugh rang out.
"I don't have to tell you anything! Nosey wench!"
"Fine, fine! I won't push! I'll drop you off at the store! Man, when did you get so prissy?" He didn't answer, instead letting the pout form on his lips earning him another laugh from Nemuri as he turned his attention to his phone.
Sho-chan: do u care if we eat ltr?
Zashi-chan: Not one bit! 😊
Zashi-chan: Is everything okay?
Sho-chan: yea i just
Sho-chan: srry dropped my phone
Sho-chan: but im fine
Zashi-chan: Don't go throwing your phone around like a hockey puck, Sho, remember what happened to the last one? Screen was so cracked you couldn't even USE it anymore and whined about getting a new one
Sho-chan: ya ya I'll b careful
Sho-chan: so how is shopping going?
Zashi-chan: Good! I got some good stuff for our anniversary 😉😘
Sho-chan: oh wowie zowie
Zashi-chan: You won't be saying 'wowie zowie' in such a sarcastic way when the day comes, babes! 😘😚
Sho-chan: prove it 😏
Zashi-chan: Prove it? I can't do that now, Shouta, I'd ruin the surprise! 😉
Sho-chan: i can send sumthin then
Sho-chan: wanna see? i took it earlier
Zashi-chan: !
Zashi-chan: Um, yes! Of fucking course!
Sho-chan: [image sent]
He was glad he was sliding into the passenger seat when Shouta sent the picture; it would have blown his knees out had he been standing. There wouldn't have been a chance of them supporting him. It was a simple picture, nothing special, but it really reminded him how little he saw his husband shirtless here lately and while the picture alone was so simple, so damn common, it still left him breathless.
Shouta, laying on the couch without a shirt of any kind on, with Cosmo laying on his chest, was nothing special. However, it was the way he looked at the camera that left him feeling weak. How those black lashes seemed lowered just a tad, his lips curled at the corner with a-a trace of smugness maybe? He couldn't pin it but there was even a soft flush to his cheeks, a pretty pink that he adored.
Again, those dark eyes that managed to once again catch the light in that perfect way to make the gray in them stand out as they looked up at the camera head on. As if he was staring right at him. It shot him right through the heart to see it that he couldn't even think to text back yet. He put his phone down on his trembling thighs, bracing his elbow on the car door as Nemuri pulled out of the parking spot.
Fighting a laugh as she proceeded to navigate through the parking lot snarling under her beath quietly about 'shitty parking' and 'shitty drivers' along with a few other things that had his brows raising but he didn't commentate. He didn't have anything to say when his mind was too busy marveling over his husband. It wouldn't take long to get to the house; not long at all as he had chosen the closest mall which was a happy thirty minutes away from both the school and their house but he was squirming.
Bouncing lightly. He didn't know what to do with himself now that the awe was fading just enough for him to marvel over the fact that Shouta was taking what could be considered risqué pictures that had his heart thumping against his chest. It wasn't fair. One bit. He needed- He wanted to send something back. But he was with Nemuri, so that wasn't exactly something you did with a friend around.
He pursed his lips peeking at the woman when he realized he'd tucked his hands between his thighs, like he was a child, and he then realized exactly what type of picture he wanted to take. Again, it wasn't for friends to take around friends but Nemuri never cared and it wasn't like he was whipping his dick out to take it. "Nem?"
"What?"
"You care if I take a picture for Sho?"
"Not one bit so long as it's not a dick pic. Go nuts, Zash."
He moved quickly then, unbuckling himself then fuzzing with the placement of his coat until he was satisfied of where it sat against his sides and reached up tugging his hair down out of its half bun then fluffing it with his hand until it sat a bit messily over his shoulders if he had to guess. He then shifted in his seat picking his phone up as he let his glasses slip down his nose just a bit before he reached up to intentionally place them halfway down knowing the effect of it always had his husband squirming when he saw it which was more than fair.
He pulled up Snapchat, scrolling quickly through the filters before he found his favorite one; it wasn't gaudy but rather had a clearer, soft tone that he found naturally pleasing to the eye. He took nearly all his pictures with it. He then took a second to stare at himself, at his hair and his glasses mostly, before he smirked at himself as he fidgeted with the phone so it would be easy to press the button for the five second timer Snap always provided.
Once he had a good, solid one hand grip on that phone with his thumb hovering over the button he reached down with his free hand down grabbing the hem of his shirt yanking it up to his collar bone and thrusting his chest forward allowing the light from the windshield and the window next to him to catch on his piercings that winked. He then pulled a wicked little move; he stuck his tongue out far enough for his piercing to wink at the camera as well and pressed the button.
One, two, three, four, and five. Done. He dropped his shirt saving the picture after eyeballing it for a second, humming to himself as he then closed Snapchat in favor of pulling his texts with Shouta up and took a deep breath before sending a few heart emojis to the picture then sent his picture back in response right as those dancing little dots popped up. And they stopped when his picture loaded.
Popped up again. Stopped. Popped up. Stopped. He smirked to himself as he exited to his home screen grabbing his seatbelt tugging it across his chest again as he settled into his seat and pulled open TikTok. He had time. He honestly didn't think much of those pictures, not a single thing, and as Nemuri cursed out other drivers under her breath he sank into his seat with an excitement bubbling low in his stomach.
He wanted to get home! He wanted to see Shouta. He wanted to know just what that meant with two little challenging texts; one for him to 'prove it' and then asking for him to get their usual things. Shouta wouldn't ask for no reason. It had hope fluttering through him the closer they got to home, wondering if he'd be able to run from the store with how breathless he already felt with that excitement cresting up to strangle his throat.
He bit at his lip wondering if Shouta even meant anything by it. If he was just playing. If he was reading the messages wrong and insinuating a flirty tone when there was none. He'd have to ask about it when he got home. He then wondered if he could just skip out on going to the store; after all, it's not like they'd be having sex tonight anyways. Shouta had merely asked him to get them, that didn't mean sex was happening.
He could be asking for him to get them so they'd have them on standby for when it did happen. If that were the case, then surely, he could just run and get them after dropping the bags off. Surely, it'd be fine. He could run out while Shouta made dinner and be back then. He then said as such to Nemuri; something vague, he couldn't remember what, but he'd convinced her to drop him off at the house rather than at the corner store like he'd intended.
If Shouta got mad at him for not going to the store first, then he'd remedy it by running right to the store once he figured out why his husband wanted them all of a sudden. Two weeks and he'd gotten not a single sign that Shouta had anything remotely sexual brewing in his mind. He didn't want to just assume. It'd be wrong. And so, he contented himself with watching the minutes tick by as they started coming up on familiar buildings, on familiar street names once again, and it was honestly strange how torture filled it felt.
Being so close to home, having this trip feel so fast on the way there and while, yes, they were getting home fast it still felt long. Like he'd been traveling for hours rather than thirty minutes there and back. He turned his screen off when he couldn't stop staring at the clock, when he drummed then squeezed the sides of his phone, and shoved it in his coat pocket. He didn't need it. Not if he gawked at the time.
Not if Shouta didn't answer him. And so, he settled to wiggling his legs, crossing his ankles again and again, drumming his fingers on his fingers on his thighs the closer they got to home until he felt he would burst right out of his skin. He was antsy. Excited. Wanted nothing more than to walk through the front door and talk it out with his husband. To explain it in a way that didn't sound like he was some desperate or dangerous pervert; that he'd merely distanced himself a bit so he wouldn't make Shouta embarrassed or awkward, but he'd done just that hadn't he?
He swallowed a groan when he rubbed at his thighs when Nemuri finally, finally, turned on his street and it took everything not to fling himself out of the car when they'd passed the corner store. He was fighting the urge to bounce wildly in his seat when he watched the numbers tick by on front gates or mail boxes, his toes wiggling in his boots as he bit at his lip until finally, he caught sight of his driveway.
Of their car sitting in the driveway. He swore he nearly tore the damn seatbelt off in his eagerness, grabbing the door handle as Nemuri pulled up in front of the house and the second he heard the doors unlocking he flung his open so viciously it bucked on its hinge nearly swinging at him again as he launched himself out of the car. It was the same thing for the back door as he ripped it open, grabbing his bag then trilling out something to Nemuri before slamming the door shut.
He then spun on his heels rushing across the sidewalk right up to their walkway where he flew up it, his coat flapping open and he had to be grateful that it was raining as it gave him the guise of someone trying to get in the house without getting himself wet or his items wet. Not the eagerly hopeful man crossing his fingers mentally that the texts he got meant something. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, easily picking out the house key and slid it into the locks quickly then tugged it out pushing the door open.
He heard Nemuri pulling away, the whooshing of tires over wet ground ringing out behind him as he slipped inside shutting the door gently. And it was quiet. Dark too. Save for the gloomy lighting from the rainy day, there wasn't a single light on in the house making him blink. Obviously, the picture with Cosmo was taken earlier after work when the clouds had just started gathering in the sky but why didn't Shouta turn a light or something on? Sure, he was frugal but it was practically dark in there.
As if not a soul live there but the cats. He kicked his boots off, tucking them into the cubby and shrugged his coat off hanging it on the hook as a few cats swarmed his feet before rushing off to the living room in a chorus of jingling bells though he didn't follow. He walked past, looked into the room, but when he failed to see Shouta, he frowned. His hands, his legs, were shaking as he walked down the hallway into the kitchen plopping his bag on the counter; he'd come back for it in a second.
He wanted to go to the bedroom, change into some comfy pajamas, and wait for his husband to make an appearance. Had he asked about a later dinner because he wasn't home? But then where would he be? He said they had the ingredients for dinner and the sides if he wanted them, so where was he? He scratched at the back of his neck as he looked out the kitchen window with a little wince; the light rain he'd dashed through was a downpour now.
That was incredibly unfortunate for Nemuri when she got home. He turned away from the window, walking across the kitchen, hearing a few trotting footsteps down the hallway though they weren't the heavy, solid ones he wanted. Not the steps of a person. He needed to get his comfy clothes and get changed. Sit and wait for Shouta. Oh shit, he had to go to the store anyways! He had offered to get Shouta and the man had chosen the two most unhealthy options on the planet; chocolate and Dr. Pepper.
He rolled his eyes as he shoved his glasses up his nose, stepping over the little threshold of their short hallway, the carpet of it soft even through his socks as he then scratched at his head with a little sigh on his lips. He could always get an umbrella and- He stopped. Steps from the doorway -a mere step really- when he realized that the doors were open. Now that, on its own, wasn't odd if one or both forgot to shut the doors behind them and he wouldn't have thought twice about it had the lighting been fitting for the rest of the house.
It should of had the gloomy light that had managed to creep over the threshold just a bit. But that's not what he saw just inches from his feet. It was the low, yellow light of their bedside lamps. And he heard the unmistakable, undeniable, sound of sheets shifting quietly and a low whine coming from the room making him freeze in place. And he swore he'd never been more aware of his own body. Of his own heart slamming against his chest or how his breath trembled out.
If Shouta, who was undoubtedly on the other side of those doors, was doing what he thought he was doing then this changed everything about him just walking in the house. He'd been rather quiet in his entrance but he hadn't sent a text, nothing of the sort to imply he'd be on his way home. If anything could be implied, it was that he was in the car with Nemuri for a brief second and there was no time stamp so as far as Shouta knew it had been taken earlier.
He heard a soft moan, the sound of the sheets rustling, and he felt a rush of heat underneath his skin along with a quiet hissing breath being taken when he twitched from his frozen state. His eyes widened as the realization came crashing down on him so suddenly it felt like his knees would buckle underneath it. Now, of course, it would be easy to deny he knew what was going on. That Shouta was laying on the bed, moving restlessly causing that sound, and he could say that his husband was possibly whining about something.
He could say he had no clue what his husband was doing. But he did. Oh, he knew what was going on in that room. Without a shadow of a doubt. He knew Shouta wasn't sleeping. Knew it. He shouldn't look. He should not look. Yet he was moving carefully, shifting on his feet and stepping carefully to position himself just enough to look through the gap of the door. Just enough to see what he knew would be confirmed.
And he still felt like he was punched straight in the gut, his air flying out of him, at the sight before him. Shouta, laying on the bed in the hilariously adorable pink kitten pajama pants that Nemuri had joking gifted him last Christmas, as his hand rubbed at himself. Innocent. It wasn't even straight masturbation yet. Nothing big. He could walk away now and act like he'd seen nothing. He didn't.
It was like he was frozen again, glued in place and his eyes forced open on the sight of his husband's legs twitching, spreading open wider as he rubbed at the bulge he knew was there and got a glimpse of when his hand slid upwards; nothing obvious but just the tiniest hint of that had him ripping with heat. He wasn't frozen because he was burning. He wasn't forced in place but unwilling to move.
He couldn't- He wasn't moving. While this wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time he saw Shouta touch himself there was something about this situation. About Shouta not knowing. About him not telling Shouta he was here. About coming home at the right damn minute that couldn't have been timed any better. He'd said it what felt like forever ago; that voyeurism was the flip side of exhibitionism. The other side of the coin.
Like two different narratives that could go together; one person wanting to be watched and the other wanting to watch. And he wanted too. He wanted too very bad. Sure, he'd gotten excited the night he'd watched Shouta and he got excited each other time but this? This really confirmed it. He was a pervert, a one hundred percent, undeniable pervert. A lurker. The very thing his mothers' warned him against being.
A whimper pulled him out of thoughts he hadn't noticed were clouding his mind and making him snap to attention. Then he heard it. Buzzing. What was buzzing? It wasn't his phone, it was- It clicked. He found his legs moving, his left foot flying back as if to step away from the doors and his hand moved up faster than he intended it to as he used his palm to shove his jaw up, his fingers tight over his lips causing his gasp to hiss in through his nose.
His cheeks flamed with heat, his heart slammed uncomfortably fast against his chest and he was trembling from head to toe. Trembling, threatening to burst into shaking from his excitement. From his realization. Why should he be surprised his husband was using the remote-controlled vibrator? He didn't know but the sound of those buttons being pressed twice quickly increasing the buzzing to a frequency he could just faintly hear was sending chills down his spine.
Naturally, he could write this off as Shouta getting it out of his system. Which, honestly, anyone would. To wake up three nights in a week from a wet dream? That was a lot to deal with so anyone would resort to masturbation. He was no different. Sure, he wasn't having wet dreams as often but he was no stranger to that. But a situation like this was different. Maybe, it was the fact that Shouta wasn't even aware he was home that was making him burn up.
Maybe, it was the fact that he was just seeing his husband do something sexual after two nearly three weeks of nothing. It was hot. It was very, very hot and he would have to be blind and deaf to not understand that. It was a strange little thing to be constantly straddling on the border of a horny mindset; to know it was there, to know that the second Shouta said 'please' he'd be ripping his clothes off and flinging himself onto the bed to do as he wanted.
To know that, if he had the chance, he would take it no matter what he was doing. And it was this little mindset that clawed its way forward. It was just as awful as the whispers as last night telling him it would be fine if he poked his husband awake. Just as awful if he admitted to being unbearably, nearly painfully turned on and that he couldn't take it anymore. It was a whisper in his mind now, that this was fine.
If Shouta didn't catch him, he was fine. And even if Shouta did catch him then what would that do? Lead them down a road he'd been wanting for a few days now? He had to strangle a whimper in his throat, pressing his fingers against his lips as if it would help smother it and he took a few breaths when he heard that rustling followed by a high, keening moan from his husband. He rolled forward on his feet taking a few steps that he swore would be his undoing; swore that he would fall to his knees if his legs shook any harder.
His own chest was rising and falling quickly in an identical manner to Shouta's and he had to smother, strangle down another whimper when he realized in his mere seconds of stepping away that Shouta had worked his pajama pants and boxers down to his knees. He knew it wasn't going to allow him to spread all the way; not the way they both knew he would want too eventually. He was honestly grateful his breathing matched Shouta's as he hoped, hoped, hoped it would hide it.
He can't control it any better than his shaking and he hoped Shouta wouldn't pick it up. The only thing he can do, the only thing he can attempt to do, is keep it quiet as possible. His hand twitched as it slowly moved from its pinned position at his side over across his thigh, raising up to press the tips of his fingers to the waistline of his pants and pinching the fabric with a debate; he could, in reality, keep it in his pants.
He could quite literally keep it in his pants to risk being found out and not have to go through the awkward song and dance of rushing away with his pants down. Or. Or, or, or he could give himself a proper relief. He could join Shouta like he had the night of their mutual masturbation. He could do that. He could raise his shirt up, so it wouldn't land on the fabric, and he could change his clothes under the guise they got wet.
He let out a shaky breath as he swallowed with one, tiny last doubt filled question rushing through his brain; ripping through the horny fog that had swamped it. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to get off to watching his unsuspecting husband? A man who, honestly, will strangle him for this if he ended upset over it and Shouta would have every single right too. They hadn't talked about doing this once and yet it felt like a once in a lifetime moment.
A rare chance to try out voyeurism in as authentic a setting as possible. He wouldn't' do this again, obviously, and he would always bring it up if he ever wanted to but right now? Right now, he was absolutely blazing with heat under his skin. He was aching with the urge, the pure desire to do something. He didn't know exactly what he wanted but the thought, the idea, that even if Shouta didn't know he was home and yet they'd be getting off together?
It was thrilling. And he didn't want to think, he didn't want to think about a thing he was going to do, a second longer than he had too. He just wanted to do it and give in naturally. His twitching hand curled against his hip into a fist briefly before he flexed his fingers out. Reaching down in response to the twitch his own erection gave and he shivered closing his eyes for a minute, a mere minute.
To control the urge to release even the tiniest of noise. To let the sounds choke themselves down. To keep from sighing, to keep from moaning, as he opened his eyes when he heard those undoubtable little clicks that had Shouta crying out and he shuddered at the trembling way it came out of him. Even if he announced his presence, he knew this would be undeniable. He knew a cry like that would carry to the front hall with the doors open like that and he would have known either way.
He let out a shaky breath through his nose as his fingers pressed tightly to his lips, knowing the second he moved would be in danger of letting his mouth drop open. And he couldn't do that. He needed to be quiet. Quiet was very important and he needed to keep his damn mouth shut for once. His hips bucked forward, leaning forward into his hand as he began cautiously rubbing at himself.
He knew he wouldn't get away with this for long; he wouldn't get away with it period as he had changed into jeans before he left the school. Already, he could pick up the sound of his hand rubbing against the material. That wasn't going to work. Not at all. He swallowed a groan of annoyance, the emotion rearing up viciously until he remedied it by using that kneading motion instead.
Squeezing, pressing, and even throwing in an even pressure filled rub once in a while had his hips jerking and him wobbling on his feet slightly from the movement as he gawked in at Shouta feeling a shudder roll down his spine. While Shouta was pretty, a stunning man every other second of the day there was something special when he was like that. His legs twitching, trying to push against the fabric around his knees, feet that were planted on the bed firmly causing little dips into the mattress.
How they would slide against the sheets just a bit when he arched upwards. Toes curling, his dark hair fanned around his face on the blankets, how red his cheeks were and how he knew for a fact the man wouldn't be able to shut his own mouth. He never could. How those dark eyes had to be foggy, burning or better yet, shut tight as his lashes trembled on his red cheeks, his brows coming together tightly giving him that adorable, helpless look.
As if he was unable to fight even a small wave of pleasure. He grits his teeth when he realized far too late a little whimper slipped out of him, his heart hammering as he watched to see if there had been a chance that his husband had heard it, no matter how small it was. Yet his hand didn't stop. It wouldn't stop. He was kneading, squeezing, rubbing and he was tingling from head to toe as his breaths rasped quickly through his nose a few times at the excitement reared up to strangle his throat tightly.
Was this how Shouta felt? The thrill of being caught? Or was this only similar? Was there a difference between that? Between getting caught no matter what it was? It didn't matter. It didn't matter one bit. He couldn't focus on theoretical or hypothetical wonderings, not when his eyes won't tear away from the aweing sight that was Shouta's hand flying up and down his erection making his hips bounce upwards eagerly in time with the movement as the black-haired man moaned shamelessly.
How his legs trembled lightly as they pushed on the bed, the buzzing nearly indistinguishable beneath the moans flying out of Shouta, and he watched with a strange type of dizzy arousal how his husband abandoned the little remote above his head just within reach to move his hand down. He squeezed his own erection tightly when Shouta whimpered loudly as he began flicking his thumb over his nipple, tracing his fingers around his areola no doubt and over the nipple again and again making him sizzle with heat fighting his own whimpers.
He had a choice he needed to make; risk moving his hand from his mouth to get his belt undone as quietly as possible, get his zipper and button undone with that same silence, or risk releasing a god-awful noise himself. Or he kept it in his pants. Strange how, with those little words, he moved his hand from his mouth downward tearing his eyes from the sight of Shouta's bouncing hips, his thighs that trembled lightly, and how his shoulders dug into the bed to arched his chest upwards.
Moaning loudly when his thumb circled the head of his erection. He needed to be fast yet quiet. His shaking hands didn't help as he struggled with the buckle of his belt, biting at his lip when his eyes flicked up and down, up and down, unable to settle on one thing. Unwilling to watch his shaking hands for a minute before he was looking up at Shouta when his moans crested up briefly. It was a miracle when he got that buckle undone without it clinking loudly, without the sound of pulling it through the loops giving him away.
And then he carefully bent down wadding it up in his hands as he placed it on the floor, out of view. He'd grab it when he was done. He'd remember to do that much. He stood up again with that same slowness, knowing if he moved too fast it would somehow gain his husband's attention and that was the last thing he wanted. When he stood up straight he reached down tugging at his pants, his teeth bit painfully down on his lip as the button seemed to refuse to come out of the hole.
Looking down to try and work it out, very quickly did he look up again when he heard his husband's recent moan choke off into a loud whimper followed by a sound so slickly lewd he was helpless to do anything other than look. He nearly lost. He nearly wailed, shouted, moaned himself when he saw Shouta's hand that had been toying with his nipple had reached down between his legs to slide two fingers into himself with such ease that it made his head spin.
Somehow it was what he needed to get the button undone on his pants as he looked down with surprise when it pulled apart. And then he had to fight the urge to yank his zipper down, his fingers trembling with the urge as he instead inched it down slowly. Too slowly. Yet the tightness, the cling of his jeans, were loosening bit by bit bringing shivers of relief down his spine. Delightingi n how each little movement allowed his erection the space he craved.
And yet his lip screamed with pain the harder he dug his teeth into it. However, he couldn't afford to release it. Not if he wanted to lose it. The second he got that zipper down he was pushing slightly at his pants, at his boxers in order to reach inside the fabric. He eased himself out making him jolt as he squeezed at himself earning a twitch when his eyes then flew back up. Strangely enough, he was hesitant.
Now that he was standing here, dick in hand, he felt like a real pervert. It crashed on hm making a fresh wave of heat assault his cheeks, burn in the tips of his ears and the back of his neck. It was almost enough to make him back down. He almost wanted to step away, to use what he'd seen so far as the fuel he needed to get off, and yet he couldn't move. He couldn't make his trembling legs step away again.
Not when Shouta's man flew out of him only this time, this time, this time, a stringing line of babbling words flew out of him. "M-Mmm! Zashi! Zashi, feels g-goood! So good! It's- Ah! Ah, I don't- Fuck! Fuck, fuck! I can't-!"
He watched Shouta's chest heave upwards with a gulping, deep breath and that was it. It was all he needed for his hand to move, a chill running down his spine as he tried his best to start slowly for, he knew if he jumped right into that wicked and fast rhythm his husband had going, he'd absolutely lose 'd give himself away in seconds. He released his lip when the pain shrieked at him and his hand came up to press against his mouth again.
Shit, his blush hot beneath his fingers knowing that eventually he would need to use his teeth or that hand to hold his shirt out of the way. It was just a matter of WHEN he did it and if he had the strength for it. He squeezed, curving his hand the way Shouta did, the way that honestly to him felt better than just a straight up and down path, and his hips jumped forward his breaths rasped at his nose that were just getting harder and harder to keep quiet.
"I can't take it a-anymore! I want- I need-!"
What? What do you need? Say it, say it, say it! Pleasepleasepleaseplease baby please I want to hear it-
"Want you to fuck me, please! Please! I- Mmmmm! I'm ready! Ready, ready, ready! I can- I wanna fuck you!"
It was chill inducing how the black-haired man seemed to wail out, slurring his words slightly in response to his thoughts and had his hand not been on his mouth he would have been worried he'd whispered or had spoken out loud. His fingers tightened on his erection sending a wave of deep, stomach clenching pleasure from the tightness of his grip and he didn't have a hope nor a pair of stopping his hand from flying up and down his length similar to how fast Shouta's was.
He could hear the quiet sound of his palm brushing over himself, rhythm and following right after Shouta as he felt that clammy sheen breaking out causing his glasses to slip. A call and response? Oh, he could do that. If he had to be quiet, then he could think it. He could respond in his head to his husband's slurring, wailing moans, couldn't he? So long as he thought it, so long as he kept himself quiet then did it matter? He could respond to that lovely voice ringing out and do it delightedly.
"Fuck! Shit! Ssshit, it's good! L-Love fingers! So good! L-Long and- Mmm! Always find it so good! Ah, ah! C-Come home already! I want it! Nnngh, please! I just- I need it! I need it bad! Please, Zashi! Please, hurry the fuck up!"
Fuck, you want fingers? I'll fuck you all night with my fingers if that's what you want! Anything, I'll do anything you want, just fucking name it and I'll do it so goddamn good!
He shouldn't find this so arousing. He should not be so goddamn aroused his head was spinning with it, his knees threatening to buckle on him, and burning hotter with every damn stroke he gave himself until he was squirming shamelessly on his feet as his hips jerked to meet his downward strokes. He felt his hair trembling against his neck, the locks on the sides of his face brushing his hot cheeks lightly, and he honestly couldn't even hate that it was down.
It was in the way, it could be annoying, but his hair was his pride and joy. It didn't help that Shouta loved it too, whether he said it or not. He blinked when he refocused on the black-haired man when he moaned loudly, squirming. The angle just barely allowed him to see those fingers flexing outwards in that scissoring motion that had him strangling a moan in his throat. It trembled there, silently, as he slid his hand up rubbing his thumb against the head of his erection fiercely.
Wiping away a drop of pre-come that threatened to drip down or onto his shirt if he hadn't wiped it away. His hips thrusted forward causing him to sway on his feet before he caught his footing as quietly as he could, his breath hitching when he froze looking back to Shouta though if the man had heard his wobbling footsteps, he didn't do a damn thing about it. He didn't look up; he didn't open his eyes and he didn't stop.
Then he felt a thrill, a stomach coiling, toe curling thought that had him whimpering quietly in the back of his throat helplessly, unable to stop it. What if he knew he was there? Not consciously, of course, because if Shouta had even an inkling, he'd been here the whole time he wouldn't be angry per say but he would be very pouty for the rest of the day and the days afterwards that he hadn't pounced.
But maybe subconsciously? Maybe he had the feeling someone was there? He didn't know but it had him squirming as his legs shook, his breaths rasping in and out as Shouta moaned loudly arching upwards lifting his hips from the bed gasping. Oh, he was in danger of actually drooling. In danger of his legs giving out on him. It was better than any night of watching Shouta in the midst of a wet dream, better than if the man had told him he wanted to resume things again.
Where had things gone from discussing dinner to this? Had there been a sign? Did he somehow miss it in between Shouta questioning dinner and him sending that sassy little 'prove it' message? Was that it? Or was it him asking for him to pick up their lube and condoms? It was weird when Shouta claimed to "drop his phone" earlier when asking about dinner so had he been doing this the whole ti-? He quickly snapped to attention the second Shouta wailed out again.
"Ah! Ah, right there! It's- there! Haah, haah, mmm! Please, Zashi! I just- Nnngh! Anything! I'll do anything! Just give it to me already! I want-want your cock so bad! Feels so e-empty without it! Ne-Need you! Need you so bad! Just get home and fuck my brains out! I don't- Ahhhnn mmmmy God! Yesss! Yes, please! I- Mmmmnnn! Zashi! Zashi, Zashi, I d-don't even wanna be pre- Ah! Just bend me over and fuck me! Mmmm! Please!'"
Horny little freak! Mmm, I'm no better, not by one little bit, but God if that's what you want then you'll get it and I'll do it fucking happily! I will, I will, I will, baby! Whatever you want or need from me I'll give it! I'll fuck you so goddamn hard that you can't sit right! I'll fuck you so goddamn hard all night long that you're crying like a fucking baby because it's so gooood. I'll do anything you want, baby, anythinganythinganything!
He wasn't going to last. He really wasn't. It was honestly aweing how fast a person could orgasm when they're already horny; how it built like a knot, burning higher and higher until it snapped giving the most satisfying thing on the planet but there was always a problem when that happened. Always a little con, depending on how it was viewed. An orgasm, a body jerking, lip biting orgasm when in that horny mindset was always so damn good; like finally eating that food once craved, and yet it left behind the urge for more.
More, more, more and even more until the body just could not keep up anymore. He had that problem. Shouta had that problem. It was hard to keep his hands off his husband when he was horny, Shouta was the same way, and yet when a body begged for rest it was always the best. To be limp on the bed, hands trailing over sweaty skin, nails dragging gently, and breaths rasping together as they shared those breathless kisses that always sent shivers down his spine.
If this one didn't knock him off his feet, if he wasn't even close to satisfied after it, then he was in trouble. Sure, Shouta was saying these things but it was babble. It was slurred moans and shouted babble that was only serving to get Shouta off at the moment. If there was truth behind it, if there was a shred of it, then he needed to hear it. Hear Shouta say, in a sober state of mind, just what he wanted.
Not when it was clouded and murky with lust. Though he was surprised when Shouta gasped wildly, pulling his hand away from his erection reaching above his head clawing for the little remote and he inched closer; a mistake. A horrible, bad mistake that would come back to bite him any moment. He knew he needed to stay as far as he could, that the view he had now was perfect for how the doors were cracked and he was honestly lucky he saw any of what Shouta was doing in his position and the placement of their bed but he wanted to be closer.
He wanted to see everything, every little thing he could. It was hard to strangle down his moans, his own whines and whimpers, the groans that shuddered through his chest, with the resulting choice making his throat feel tight, thick as if he had a hand around it. Squeezing tighter and tighter, his head begging him to let just one tiny sound out, something to alleviate that choking sensation but he couldn't.
If he let out a single one again, a single sound, it would break the floodgate and he'd lose every little sound that had been building since this began. How long has this been going on? It felt like hours. It felt like a beautiful eternity he's been standing here watching his husband squirm and writhe, watching his hips bounce eagerly as if trying to coax his own hand back down as it fiddled with the remote, and how the muscles in his legs flexed with the movement.
How flushed his pale skin looked. All of it begged, pleaded for him to kiss, suck and bite at; to squeeze until there were bruises left behind and to claw at until he left those jagged lines on his skin. He swore it was so vivid, consuming everything how his vocal cords seemed to tremble with that pent up groan that wanted to fly out of him as his throat again tightened it seemed, a pressure that was building until he was sure he would lose control of it.
Like that one-time Hitoshi and Denki were playing around with hydrogen peroxide and yeast. His throat felt like that water bottle; swelling, growing tighter with each noise he strangled and kept down the best he could even as it promised to burst at any second. The wail, however, the high trembling sound had him blinking himself out of that thought as he watched Shouta drop the remote above his head again though it didn't seem to be intentional.
Not at all. His lazy, bouncing and jiggling hips flew up wildly in such strong thrusts into the air that he knew had he been the lucky one on top of him he'd be flying up with those movements. His breaths hitched, huffing out against the back of his hand watching the little display of thrusting hips, of feet scrambling and pressing against the bed fiercely until his legs were trembling from the position, hips thrusting eagerly up as his fingers slammed into himself creating a squelching sound that had chills down his back.
God, he really had this man. He was so lucky to have him. He got to see, got to touch, to kiss and hold this man whenever he pleased. He got to hear and see these things whenever he wanted. He was gasping, panting desperately through his nose and he couldn't keep it quiet anymore; he truly couldn't. Shouta's own breaths were rasping out of him so fast, so loud he was SURE they'd cover up his own but he can't be sure of that and it still sent shivers that pooled right into his stomach.
A pressure, a knot, was forming that was his orgasm as he stroked faster, faster, squeezing and curving. He rubbed at the tip each time he came up until he was shamelessly fisting at the head so fervently that his eyes threatened to roll back. He'd been dangerously close earlier but now? Now he was sure it was going to snap. Any moment, he was right there but he needed- he wanted to see Shouta come first. Had too. Needed it. He needed it bad.
Please, please, please, please cum, please cum! Shouta, Shouta, I need- Shouta, please! Just cum already! Even if you don't- I'm right here, and I'll do it with you so please, baby, please! Just cumcumcumcum pleasepleaseplease let me see-!
"Shit! Shit, shit, sssshiiit! Ah! Ahhnnn mmmm! I can't- It's right there! It's- Nngh! I-I need-!"
Oh, he loved when Shouta got so lost in his lust, in his arousal that he was shamelessly babbling with no endings and no coherent starts as he writhed and wailed them out until they bordered on a slurred moan. Strange how it didn't connect yet, didn't piece together, that he needed to move his hand from his mouth; that he needed to get his shirt out of the way. He had seconds, maybe minutes, to get it out of the way. It was only when he felt his orgasm cresting to that exquisitely painful, burning unbearable point where there wasn't a single doubt that it was going to wash over him that he realized he was in trouble.
In more trouble than just shuffling closer to the doors. He felt a moan, a wail a howl, something building in his throat and his knees were shaking, his hand tight over his mouth yet he didn't want to come on his shirt; not if he wanted to try and rush for the door to save face for his husband. He didn't have a choice when Shouta cried out, squirming against the blanket, gasping and moaning higher, higher as he watched those hands working in such perfect tandem to stroke and thrust at once. It was a dizzyingly arousing sight.
"Zashi, Zashi, Zashi! I'm- mmmmn! It's- Cumming! Cumming, cumming, Zashi! I- Ah! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! F-Ffffuck, Zashi!"
It was too much. It was far too much. He slid his hand to the base squeezing tightly as if it would stop the orgasm, stop it like a ring would, but he wasn't that strong. Nowhere near what he needed. And yet he marveled over the convulsing, trembling movements of his husband only to feel a stab of disappointment he couldn't quite see the spurts of come landing on his stomach that he knew was happening but he couldn't whine.
He couldn't pout. He threw himself backwards then, his legs shaking from the sudden movement as his knees gave out but he didn't care. He can't. He heard Shouta's desperate, drawn-out moan from the bedroom and he didn't have a hope or prayer of stopping himself; he knew it had been coming, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself hidden even if the idea that he could come quietly and save face.
No matter how much he wanted to try too. His mouth dropped open, just as Shouta's moans were trailing off and he shuddered as he ripped his shirt up, stuffing the fabric into his mouth even if he knew it wouldn't do jack shit. His fingers no longer squeezed at the base but resumed those fast, curving strokes that tipped him right over when he heard Shouta panting with a tired sounding groan.
He didn't have a hope or prayer. Not when he had that mental image of an orgasming Shouta; not when he knew how his head would press to the bed tightly, his mouth dropping open and how his brows would come together as his lashes trembled on his red, red cheeks. He almost felt bad when the moan burst out of him; so loud, it was so, so loud in that resulting silence yet he couldn't even think of somehow toning it down.
He jerked, hips thrusting upwards as each sound he'd choked down seemed to try flying out at once; the moans, groans, the wild whimpers and reedy whines as he shook through his orgasm, his eyes rolling back as his eyes squeezed shut. It was hot, blinding and he squirmed desperately through the waves until it ebbed away. And he was left panting quickly with drool soaking into his shirt as he whimpered out forcing his hand to stop its weak little strokes.
And he couldn't even act shocked, act scared, when he heard the doors grind open or the hand that weaved through his hair when Shouta stepped close to him in those ridiculous pink kitten pajama pants. He forced his heavy lashes up, his eyes threatening to roll back as he let the hand in his hair tug his head backwards. Back, back, back until he was looking up at his husband feeling a chill run down his spine to see that wrecked, flushed face above him.
To see how wildly his hair rested around his shoulders from laying back on the bed. From mussing it up against the blanket. He then looked down at the clean skin of his stomach feeling a stab, a sharp and twisting stab of disappointment that Shouta had somehow cleaned himself up before coming into the hallway. He looked up again trying not to let his eyes roll back or shut when Shouta then squatted down in front of him, those dark eyes glittering at him.
Then he leaned in lifting his other hand up to tug the fabric of his shirt out of his mouth and he didn't seem to mind one bit how absolutely soaked it had gotten in just a few seconds. And, surprisingly enough, lips came crashing down on his own making him moan eagerly against them when they moved with such heat, such absolute hunger to them that he couldn't imagine sitting down for a meal right then.
He couldn't imagine sitting and making pleasant conversation with him. It felt like it had been years since he was kissed in such an urgent, eager way that it had a fresh wave of heat tingling and flickering beneath his skin when Shouta pulled back with his breaths hitching and shaking lightly. "Y-You fucking pervert."
He twitched at the soft, breathless insult yet he didn't offer a word of reproach; not when he was faced with a truthful statement. Where he should have gotten a glare, a scowl of disappointment, he merely got a burning, excited look from his husband that had him twitching to chase after. To help it burst into the real thing that would have them writhing and squirming, grabbing and clawing.
"Such a Peeping Tom, watching me like that. W-What would your mothers think, Zashi? Knowing their son is a lurker, contributing to a perverts activity. Did you feel no shame? Touching yourself while w-watching me like that?
"Mmm, h-how can there be shame when you clearly liked it? Y-You wouldn't be out here, kissing me, if it really bothered you." He breathed out his words when lips began pressing to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose softly, and he reached his clean hand out only to groan when he cursed himself to the deepest levels of stupidity.
Fuck, he should have just gone to the store when he had the chance. He shouldn't have shrugged it off. He should have went. But if he'd gone to the store he would have missed this. But he didn't go so they didn't have the condoms, the lube, to do anything tonight and he groaned again when Shouta pulled back looking at him with a squint, a curious little tilt to his head. "I don't want to a-assume anything but did you-?"
"You've been here the whole time, gawking and listening to me, so you've clearly heard what I want. Or do I have to say it again?" When he nodded, he got a breathless laugh from his husband, that sarcastic sound making him shift on his knees, did he jump when hands grabbed at his face and fingers dug into his burning cheeks when his head was angled allowing for the eye contact that Shouta wanted.
"N-No, you don't but I'd like to hear you say it, baby!"
Those dark eyes burned- No, they seared into his own sending chills down his spine. "I've had long enough of a break. I'm ready to start things up again. That's the polite way of saying it." He paused then smirked that Totoro-esque one at him. "The blunt way of saying it would be this; I want you to fuck me, you blonde idiot, and you're going to fuck me good until I need another break. Or I'll fuck myself on you until you are begging for one. Understand that?"
"Yes, sir! I understand you, loud and clear! Crystal clear!"
He even pulled a little salute that had Shouta snickering though his red face, his disturbing little grin and his wild hair did nothing to help the curious little twitch his dick gave as he shifted on his knees again looking down, looking to the side, before ultimately looking back up his husband again. It wasn't that he was awkward; well, he should be given what he had just done. It truly did go against all the things his mothers had taught him his entire life but to hear Shouta mocking him like that? God, there wasnt' a drop of awkwardness in him. Nor shame.
Lifting his gaze up he tilted his head at his husband watching those black brows raise back at him. "Sooo, what do you wanna do now? You want me to, uh, fuck you now? Because I'd have to run to the store! But do you want me too? Or do you-?"
"I'm making dinner. You are going to go to the store, getting my Dr. Pepper, my chocolate, and then you're getting the lubes, wipes, and condoms I asked you to get. Then when you get home dinner will be ready, we'll eat and we'll put Eri to bed when she and Hitoshi get home."
Shouta paused then, releasing his face as he tilted his head thoughtfully before standing up gesturing for Hizashi to do the same and Lord if that wasn't a trial or tribulation upon itself to stand on his trembling legs. He wondered if it would be acceptable to just hop on the bike and ride down to the store. He was brought out of that curious little thought when he cringed at the shirt being used to press then wipe at the come on his stomach, lifting his gaze to Shouta.
Then down at the hand wiping at his stomach, and watched with utter fascination as his husband smacked his hand away before tucking his curiously twitching dick back into his boxers. Buttoned and zipped his pants up roughly jerking his hips forward when he then slid his fingers into the loops tugging him tight against him and he didn't mind that one bit. In fact, it was pretty fucking hot to be pulled around by Shouta.
"And then, tonight, when we've put Eri to bed and we feed the cats, you're going to walk that ass of yours into that bedroom."
"And what is this ass going to do when it's in there?" He can't stop that catty; playful tone any more than he could stop his stomach from squirming excitedly.
"When it's in there, you-" A push backwards then a yank forward on those belt loops had his hips jerking again and he felt a bolt of excitement when his hips thumped against Shouta's, that Totoro grin of his deepening with that positively wicked look he lived and breathed for. "You, will be in there, ready for me and then you're going to absolutely, positively ensure that you fuck the very soul out of me. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"