Warnings: AU, clichéd bullshit, unbeta'd, and yaoi of a graphic nature because I'm a dirty pervert.
This was going to be crackish, but it turned out to be sort of serious. It isn't even that giggle-worthy. I fucking fail. Nothing ever comes out the way I want it to. But it's still pretty fluffy.
Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata own all the rights to Death Note, not me. I don't know who March of the Penguins belongs to, but I do know that it's not me or Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Also, I don't own Morgan Freeman. How the fuck could I, honestly?
Like I mentioned, this is an AU. There's no Kira case, there's an established friendship between Raito and Ryuzaki, and they're like, in school. But not in school. Just of that age. I know the years apart in their ages would make that impossible, but this is fan fiction, and I'm too lazy to work something out that would make sense.
Nyarg. On with it!
All the sounds and sights of the outside world bleed away, as they always do when Ryuzaki indulges in this. Raito's voice fades away as the creamy chocolate melts in the eccentric man's mouth—and then the oozing of thick caramel, slipping out of the melting chocolate it had been encased in only moments ago, before it was placed in Ryuzaki's mouth.
He must feel weightless, relaxed, and so blissful, Raito thinks, as the contents of the candy coats his friend's spoiled tongue. It would seem that there is nothing that compares to this, looking at the older man. There is no mental stimulation anyone could provide, no serotonin-consuming drug, no point of sexual excitement he could possibly experience, that could ever compare to this.
"Mm..." he purrs lowly, head lolling back and completely unaware of the other young man in the room. Ryuzaki grips the edge of the chair he's sitting on in both hands and his eyes flutter closed. Another groan rumbles in his chest as the feeling of euphoria completely washes over him.
This is his peak. This is the highest point of ecstasy he can reach. This is the feeling he's rewarded with every time he indulges in his not so guilty pleasure. In this case, it is a chocolate egg, a leftover from Easter.
They're Ryuzaki's favorites.
But it has to end, unfortunately. Ryuzaki grudgingly swallows, revels in the smoothness of it sliding down his throat, and remains slumped against the chair for a few moments. It's his post-snacking high. He's still unresponsive, but slightly more attuned with his surroundings.
Raito watches all of this silently, knowingly. Although he's never experienced a confectionery orgasm, he has a good idea as to what his friend is feeling at the moment. He can read this all on Ryuzaki's face and in his actions. Although he's watched this numerous times, it never fails to awe him. How this man could derive so much pleasure from a single sugary treat is mind-boggling.
It makes Raito feel happy, though, despite the weirdness of it. He feels like this is a private moment in Ryuzaki's life, and the fact that he's allowed to be a part of it reminds him of how much he's trusted. But he isn't as comfortable as he should be, as he usually is. There's a blush dusting his cheeks and his pulse is slightly faster than normal. This feeling is new. He has never been this uncomfortable around Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki feels like home. He used to, anyway. But Raito feels out of place in his presence, and this has never happened before. It's scary. The blossoming heat between his thighs is scary, too.
Raito stands up swiftly and leaves his half-conscious friend.
It's not like they were doing anything important, anyway.
"Raito-kun, I'm picking up on a new tense atmosphere between us."
Leave it to Ryuzaki to shamelessly point out the obvious in such a blunt manner. It makes Raito uncomfortable, but probably not the other man, who is so emotionally retarded, he could never pick up on that.
He's looking at Raito expectantly, curiously, waiting for an explanation. There's no doubt that he noticed his friend's absence after coming down from his confectionery orgasm the night before. But is it too much to expect that he wouldn't care? Maybe so, judging by the sudden interrogation.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Raito grumbles, refusing to meet Ryuzaki's eyes anymore. All he can see are those ebony orbs, clouded in sugar lust. All he can feel is what he felt back in Ryuzaki's room last night when they were supposed to be studying, even though they didn't really need to.
But it's an excuse to relax, being with Ryuzaki. Raito doesn't need to be the prodigious son and student he's pressured to be around everyone else when he's with the bizarre man.
"I see that you've decided to remain silent about the matter. I'm not going to waste my time prying an answer out of you if it's useless in the end." L tells him softly, without any hint of irritation (or much of any other emotion) whatsoever. Raito used to like that about him, how he would never force him to say or do anything if he didn't want to. But for some reason, this time, he's feeling a little depressed because of Ryuzaki's lack of interest, and he feels foolish for feeling that way.
The two sit silently in the coffee shop they always visit together if time permits. It's possibly one of the largest factors that has stabilized the bond of their friendship, as Raito hesitatingly refers to it as. They get in arguments often, sometimes very heated arguments, and they've never been affectionate as close friends usually are, but they certainly have something that most likely won't be breaking any time soon. Acknowledging that makes the younger boy's cheeks burn for some reason. He's not willing to dwell on why.
Ryuzaki breaks the tense silence once again, tentatively, almost as if he's sorry to.
"Have you spoken to the therapy pillow?" he inquires quietly. Raito can feel his gaze burning into him, and for some reason, that makes him feel more vulnerable than he has ever felt around his eccentric friend. He wants to close his eyes, as if that would somehow make the feeling go away.
When Ryuzaki's words finally sink in, he's grateful for a distraction. Has he spoken to the therapy pillow, the pillow he confides in, only because he's encouraged to, because it's apparently a good emotional outlet when Ryuzaki isn't an option? Has he utilized that—bluntly speaking—useless resource?
"No." Raito answers with a tone of finality that leaves no room for discussion. Ryuzaki doesn't pick up on that, though. Either that, or he doesn't care.
"Because it wouldn't help!" he snaps. Goddammit! Now Ryuzaki has gotten him riled up! It's so easy for him to do that to Raito. He can easily keep his composure around anyone else, with this one exception. It makes him wonder why he even puts up with Ryuzaki. Is it possible, though, that this is exactly why? Because he can effortlessly pull out a side of Raito the boy is ashamed to have? Does that make him masochistic?
"What wouldn't it help, Raito-kun?" he asks, his interrogation apparently far from over.
That's when Raito picks up on what Ryuzaki picked up on. He was stupid enough to admit that there's something to help. How is it that he loses a few IQ points when he's around his brilliant friend? Raito hadn't noticed it before, but it's true. He sometimes says things that he shouldn't say, like just now, or thinks things he shouldn't think, like last night.
"Ryuzaki, it doesn't matter." Raito mutters, too exasperated to raise his voice much. Even though he isn't looking at Ryuzaki, he can tell, by the lack of a sigh or a hum of affirmation, that his friend doesn't believe him. This only makes Raito irritable because of Ryuzaki's exceptional people-reading skills, or Raito-reading skills, more accurately put. That really isn't fair. Raito can rarely tell what he is thinking or feeling. Everything—every thought, every shred of humanity—is hidden.
Except for when he shamelessly indulges in the pleasures of candy and cake, of course.
"Are you angry because I didn't offer you any confectionery last night?" Ryuzaki asks curiously, like he actually suspects that it is the reason.
When he suggests it, Raito immediately thinks back to last night more closely than ever, thinks about the large pile of chocolate Easter eggs sitting on Ryuzaki's desk, thinks about Ryuzaki picking one up and pealing the brightly colored foil off with his dexterous fingers, about how his tongue would flick over the outer shell of the milk chocolate, as if teasing himself is almost as much fun as actually eating it, and then tasting its contents with an ardorous attitude about the whole process.
Raito shivers, parts his lips to emit a short, involuntary gasp, and is much too caught up in the events of his imagination—his memory—to realize that his friend is raptly watching everything he does in response to the innocent question.
Raito is brought out of his daze when he sees Ryuzaki's sudden movement. His hand dips into his pocket, searching for a few moments, before finally finding whatever it is he's looking for. Raito can hardly focus on that, as his cheeks are flushed in embarrassment, almost as if he's convinced Ryuzaki can read his mind. But he can't, can he? Of course not.
Ryuzaki's hand creeps across the table, and it looks sort of creepy, what with his thin, long fingers that remind Raito of spider legs. Except they shouldn't remind him of that, because those fingers are thin and smooth, and they look so soft. They look delicate, too, like if anyone tried to hold the man's hand too carelessly, those elegant digits may just break off.
The teenager is brought out of his senseless musings when Ryuzaki's hand reaches for his, but never makes contact, Raito is relieved and slightly offended to observe. But he can feel the warmth of the other's palm hovering above his, on the table, and then he's suddenly given a handful of chocolate egg candies, smoothly wrapped in various colors of foil. Raito's hand is warm even as Ryuzaki quickly retracts his own, as if he's been bit. The candies are warm, but not so much that they've melted. They're pleasantly warm, having been resting against Ryuzaki's thigh for who knows how long.
Raito's too distracted by this to ask why he's suddenly in possession of a handful of Easter candies. But he's offered an explanation before he has the opportunity to question, though.
"I apologize, Raito-kun. It was very rude of me to have not offered you anything last night while I selfishly ate these in your presence. It must have been difficult, to keep yourself from throwing your pride out the window and giving into the temptation to demand I share."
Raito finally stops reveling in the feel of the candies and tunes into his little speech. Although he certainly isn't as clear-headed as he usually is, he can still pick up on the dry sarcasm in Ryuzaki's voice that most likely no one but him could ever detect.
The teenager remembers his part, remembers what he's supposed to do when his friend acts like this, which is quite often. He glares at the young man seated across from him, who is nibbling his thumb and looking just slightly devious underneath his impassive mask. Raito's breath hitches and his face is flooded with more color, if that's possible. He's not sure why that playful look in his friend's eye is making his skin feel hot all over, but it is, and it's so hard to concentrate on anything else right now.
Ryuzaki's subtle expression of playfulness suddenly drains. Raito becomes paranoid even though he's not quite sure what he's so paranoid about. All he knows is that he has failed to engage in his usual banter with Ryuzaki because his mind is all over the place today. It's suddenly difficult to look his friend in the eyes, but Raito does it, anyway.
"What is Raito-kun thinking of?" his companion murmurs, not even bothering to hide the curious tone. It's so odd, how he doesn't directly ask if anything is the matter. He knows something isn't normal. He knows exactly what questions to ask, and that both awes Raito and frightens him. Ryuzaki is incredibly perceptive. The younger man can't hide anything from him.
The return of the subject of the interrogation makes Raito grab his water glass in the hand not cradling Ryuzaki's small gift, just to keep his nervous hands busy—he hadn't ordered his usual black coffee, as he's already on edge and doesn't need any stimulants to help with that—and he silently debates what he could possibly say that wouldn't be a lie, but certainly not the complete truth, either.
What was he thinking of again? Oh, yes...alternating between mentally berating himself for having zero control over his physical responses to everything today and feeling Ryuzaki's candies now resting in his palm, thinking about how warm it must be against that man's thigh. He trembles, feeling his flesh beginning to get hot again.
His fingers shake against the cold glass in his loose grip. The surface is lubricated with condensation, so it shouldn't be a surprise to either of the young men when the glass slips from Raito's grip and shatters on the table. It's ironic, how quickly that hot feeling on his flesh is replaced by bitter coldness. The air leaves his lungs in a rush in response to the shock.
Raito's shirt clings to him and his nipples are erect, which is a direct response from the cold. But he isn't thinking about that. He isn't thinking about all of the stares directed at their location because of the accident, or even about how horribly freezing he is right now. He doesn't think of any of that because he's distracted by Ryuzaki, trying to figure out why his friend is no longer looking at his face anymore, but at his chest, trying to figure out why his normally pallid cheeks are dusted with an attractive pink color. Mostly, though, Raito is distracted by the heated expression in Ryuzaki's eyes, and that makes him feel hot all over again, despite the fact that he's drenched with ice cold water.
His breath comes back to him, though a bit labored, when someone comes between them to clean up the mess, presumably an employee. He can't see Ryuzaki anymore. He can't see that highly uncharacteristic flush on his face or that peculiar look in his eyes, so Raito can think with more clarity now.
The teenager fears that this incident will be more significant than the one in Ryuzaki's bedroom the night before.
"I just...I don't know what's going on. I've been really confused lately. I mean, I understand...I understand..." Raito trails off pitifully, silently pleading with the pillow to which his words are directed to supply an excuse to not finish his sentence, or this ridiculous 'session', preferably. A way out of this doesn't present itself, however, and the young man feels stupid, leaving the words hanging in the air like this, so he continues in a hushed voice.
"I understand...sexual attraction." he finishes. He feels stupid for saying the phrase shamefully, like he's an embarrassed 12-year old that isn't mature enough to speak rationally about this.
But what is rational about this? What is so rational about talking to a pillow?
"I would think that this is...that this is, uh, that. But it can't be. I know for a fact it isn't. And I most certainly am not in denial!" he exclaims defensively, almost as if the pillow was about to accuse him of being so.
Who are you trying to convince? Raito imagines the pillow asking. Me, or yourself?
"Not you, of course." Raito snaps sardonically. "And certainly not myself! I don't know what this is, but I do know what it isn't. I could never be...never be..."
Be what, Raito?, the sassy pillow interjects again. A faggot? A buttfucking faggot? Because all of the signs point to that. Would you rather go through life openly flouncing about with gay declarations of love flowing from your mouth and sunshine shooting from your ass all the time, or would you rather live in denial?
Gasping loudly in anger, Raito grabs the homophobic pillow and heaves it to the ground. His breathing is shallow and his cheeks are flushed, not completely from embarrassment, but from sheer rage directed at his inanimate confidant. He briefly considers getting a new pillow and trashing this one before mentally slapping himself, remembering that the pillow is only an object and shouldn't have the ability to offend him so much.
Despite that, he decides to sleep without it tonight, refusing to ponder why.
As Raito stands under the warm spray of the shower next morning, his sepia eyes are trained on the sudsy soap swirling around his feet as it slides off his body. He isn't really seeing it, though. He's still deeply distracted by troubling thoughts of Ryuzaki. He's reiterating the day before to himself, the accident with the glass, and Ryuzaki's reaction to it, specifically. He's thinking of the way those eyes were focused intently on his chest, how his friend's usually colorless complexion was uncharacteristically flushed. But he's thinking particularly about the fervent longing in his dark eyes.
Raito's own cheeks flush, which seems to be happening abnormally often lately. But it isn't just a result from the steam and the pleasantly warm water. His hand, seemingly on its on volition, drifts up his slick thigh and back down, almost teasingly. When he thinks back to the euphoric bliss Ryuzaki experienced the other night, trembling in his chair and groaning out loud, Raito's half-hard length turns into full arousal. Unable to resist any longer, he grasps himself in his hand.
Shame is forgotten to him now. He can't think of anything besides Ryuzaki and his rare displays of humanity. He can't feel anything, either, except for a yearning so deep, it aches.
"Mhn..." he groans as he starts to pump himself. He slumps against the wall of the shower as his knees grow weak. His eyes fall half-lidded, and then eventually completely closed. It's easier to imagine with his eyes closed. He can see Ryuzaki clearer now. He can see his lips parted for the intrusion of candy. He can see that pink tongue poking out, stroking the sweet outside, fondling it with the tip of that wet muscle. Raito can feel that tongue on him right now, licking his parted lips, wet from the moisture of the air in the bathroom. He can feel those hands on him, too, caressing every inch of his wet, slick flesh.
He releases a guttural moan as pleasure overruns his senses. He's no longer imagining those lips nipping and sucking gently on his anymore. He's thinking of how that mouth would feel wrapped around his throbbing member, the wet heat of his tongue making love to the needy hardness between his parted thighs.
"Ahh...Mm!" he moans again, stroking himself enthusiastically, not even aware that it's his own hand anymore.
There's no way he could be silent during this. It's much too passionate to stifle the sounds he's making, and he's far too into it to care. He has never felt a hunger this demanding, has never felt pleasure even close to this.
He thrusts into his hand and slumps further against the wall of the shower. Most of his weight is being imposed on it. He can't really stand anymore. He's shaking as tremors flow through his body, murmuring unintelligible words and phrases that don't mean anything because of the feeling of that hot mouth all over his body. It feels so real.
He's never been so undone. He's never been this passionate, even alone. It's almost a shame that no one can—and ever will—see this sensational performance.
The heat that has been present in his groin since he began this is growing more and more pronounced. Raito likes the feeling of it tightening, pulsating, shooting sparks of pleasure with each stroke.
His legs weaken further and his knees buckle. He falls, but it barely registers in his lust-fogged mind. All he knows is that he has hit his peak, his climax, and that the ecstasy that has steadily been building has suddenly skyrocketed into a supernova of bliss that's so strong, it seems that there's no way this could ever end.
"Ryuzaki!" he cries, coming messily into his hand—or, rather, Ryuzaki's mouth.
"Ryu! My Ryu! Ryu...ohh! Ryuzaaaaaki..." he continues to sob, chanting his name over and over again. It's the only word that exists in his vocabulary right now. Even as the intoxication of his intense climax begins to wane, he still continues to repeat his friend's name, or fragments of it. The volume of his voice quiets gradually until all that leaves his lips are whimpers between ragged, uneven breaths.
When he slowly descends back to reality, a feeling of discontent comes with it. It isn't because he's coming down from a rather earth-shattering experience, but because that image of Ryuzaki is beginning to fade. The feeling of those hands and lips on him is quickly slipping away, too.
He opens his eyes, and sees the partially transparent shower door, feels the raining of warm water on his pitiful form on the shower floor.
He also sees the absence of the apparition his mind conjured up.
He's no longer crying out his friend's name, he realizes. He's deeply ashamed of the disappointment he feels when he can't find the subject of his fantasies.
Still, that doesn't stop him from futilely scanning every inch of the shower for the eccentric man. He realizes that Ryuzaki isn't here anymore.
He never was.
He's only doing this to retain some sort of normalcy, not only for him, but for Ryuzaki, as well. He doesn't want to give him any other reason to question his wellbeing.
It's Saturday. He has nothing to do, like all Saturdays, and like most days of the week. Ryuzaki surely knows this, and has suspicions as it is, Raito knows, and he isn't willing confirm that. It would only lead to more questions he will never answer.
That's why he's walking to his friend's house, against his better judgment. It will be awkward for him, he knows, but he's hoping that Ryuzaki is too emotionally retarded to pick up on that.
If, by some miracle, he can escape the incessant questioning, that doesn't mean he can escape his own. He doesn't know what any of this means. The answer might be clear to anyone else, but to Raito, there must be some explanation other than the obvious. If he really feels that way about Ryuzaki, he won't know how to feel about himself anymore. He isn't willing to accept that. He doesn't want to reassess everything he knows—or thought he knew—about himself. Everything he knows about himself is built on an unstable infrastructure, anyway, which he hadn't really known before this.
He feels like such a mess. He doesn't know what to think anymore. Sexual identity is not something he'd ever worried about having to deal with. Battling with unconventional feelings for his eccentric friend is also something that had never, ever crossed his mind. There had never been a reason for it to bother him. He was never concerned about the fact that he didn't find individuals of either gender attractive, even while boys around him constantly chattered about raunchy things concerning the female anatomy, which he'd never paid attention to beyond a solely scientific level. It was something he never worried about, something he never thought about.
He never lusted after anyone, female or male, not because it went against his morals, but because he saw nothing appealing about anyone. But that was okay. He loathed to even think about becoming like the immature young men he goes to school with, always consumed with thoughts of sex and kinky behavior.
When he met Ryuzaki, sitting in the booth at the coffee shop Raito usually sat at, none of that changed. When he went to confront the strange man sitting in his regular seat, when he first experienced the feeling of shock at how deep those dark eyes were, with the startling intensity with which he stared at Raito, none of that changed. When he heard that smooth, low-toned voice refusing to leave the booth, but offering to share it, still, none of that changed.
Watching those quirks, feeling them silently growing on him, didn't change anything. He never inwardly questioned why he continued to show up at that coffee shop everyday, looking for that odd man that should have been extremely off-putting from the beginning, with his odd appearance, quirks, and blunt way of acting and speaking. But there was something Raito was addicted to. There was something about this man, Ryuzaki...
It was his intellect, he reasoned. He'd never met anyone even close to his level of intelligence before. That was a very positive attribute. Still, that explanation for his constant searching for Ryuzaki somewhere in that coffee shop didn't sit well with him. Maybe it was never the answer. Maybe there really was something else that had Raito coming back for the odd man's company. Maybe that 'something' has suddenly reared its ugly head after being smothered for so long.
But Raito doesn't want to believe that. It upsets him. The fact that he just masturbated to the image of Ryuzaki upsets him, and that he had the most powerful orgasm of his life doing it is very disturbing. But most of all, he's upset he doesn't know himself nearly as well as he thought he did. He doesn't know who he is anymore. The possibility that he never really did is devastating.
The liveliness of people's everyday lives around him on this busy Saturday as he walks to Ryuzaki's house doesn't provide a distraction from his troubling thoughts. He's still consumed with thoughts of what he has done, feeling guilt wash over him, but he's not sure why he isn't feeling disgust instead. He feels like he's corrupted something beautifully pure. And he certainly isn't referring to himself.
He feels like Ryuzaki is so different than the boys at school that will do anything for a fuck. He probably never thinks of such things, probably lives his life without the burden of a constant bombardment of hormones screaming at him to put his dick in something—hell, anything.
Raito was always like that, too, until now. He's not sure how or why this happened. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that he might—no, does—have feelings for his friend that are far beyond platonic. It's hard to even think of the possibility.
But it makes his stomach churn when he debates smothering these feelings for the rest of his life. He fears that they would only get more power that way, anyway. And it isn't just his subconscious that's hungering for Ryuzaki so deeply now. He has been made aware of it. There's no way he can lie to himself anymore and believe it.
Does this mean that Raito Yagami, prodigious student, thoughtful friend, and polite son, perfect in nearly every way...is gay? That doesn't sit well with him. It isn't because he doesn't want to accept that, which is admittedly true, but it mostly doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like that's the answer to why he's feeling this way. But does it mean he's very attracted to someone for the first time, who just happens to be male? Does it mean that gender isn't an issue, as long as it's Ryuzaki?
That feels better.
Even though he loathes to admit it to himself, that feels correct.
He's deeply attracted to his best friend. He cares for him much more than he probably should. Ryuzaki stimulates him more than any sort of dirty magazines ever could. He craves his presence, even though he knows it will feel awkward, even though things have changed drastically, perhaps for the worst, for Raito.
That's why he's here, knocking at the door, waiting for Ryuzaki's grandfather, Watari, to answer it. It isn't so much because he wants to keep up a charade of normalcy, though there is some truth to that. Mostly, though, he craves Ryuzaki's company. He likes the sense of belonging he gets every time he's with him, like he would be accepted even if his perfect grades suddenly plummeted and he stopped caring about being perfect all the time.
Ryuzaki feels like home, and that's why he's here, even though he knows this is the last place he should be right now.
These disconcerting thoughts take up every bit of his attention as Watari invites him in, even though he desperately wishes he could think of something else, at least while he's here. But the thoughts only grow more pronounced and he's getting more nervous with every step he takes toward Ryuzaki's room.
He stands there for awhile, outside his door, his nerves eating him from the inside. He's not so sure that this is a good idea anymore. He's considering running away because he's irrationally afraid that Ryuzaki will see what he has done, even though that isn't possible. But Watari knows he's here now, and Watari will probably tell Ryuzaki that he's been here, and that would just complicate matters. It's too late.
He opens the closed door cautiously, still irrationally afraid that Ryuzaki knows everything.
When he pokes his head through, he's startled to see those large, black eyes staring right back at him. It's startling and Raito almost lurches back in shock. He'll never get used to the intensity of those eyes.
It's almost like he has been waiting for Raito, like he knows he's been standing outside his door idly. Those eyes, those eyes...they see so far beyond what Raito had originally assumed. It's disconcerting, but so fascinating. He's afraid to get closer—those eyes are so intimidating—but he wants to, god, he really wants to.
Those eyes are shining with something, but Raito has a difficult time identifying it. He seems to be seeing semblances of emotion a lot in Ryuzaki lately. Either his friend is developing a human side, or maybe he's always had it, and the younger man is just now looking close enough to see it. Whichever the case, he sees something there. Maybe some poorly hidden elation in his friend's usual placid expression. Or maybe it's a trick of his own eyes; he doesn't know. But regardless, it sends shivers up his spine seeing something so alive within Ryuzaki.
Is it happiness, what Raito sees? Or are his own feelings falsely affecting what he's seeing?
"Raito-kun," he murmurs, almost soundlessly. "come in."
His reaction to the words is delayed. He's entranced by the way Ryuzaki's lips move, almost caressing the words as they leave his mouth. That mouth...
Raito finally notices Ryuzaki's questioning gaze, silently asking why he's just standing there with his head poked through the gap of the door and his eyes probably glazed over.
He bows his head, hoping to hide the blush blossoming on his cheeks, but he knows it's too late. Ryuzaki is too observant and he'll probably ask why Raito is acting this way. He has always bluntly voiced anything on his mind.
But he doesn't. Neither of them speak to fill the blooming awkwardness. Maybe he has actually picked up on the fact that Raito really doesn't want to talk about it. Or maybe he's always known that, but now, he has found it in himself to care.
The flustered brunet walks forward while inwardly berating himself for having such a loose hold on his emotions. He should be more like Ryuzaki, always so controlled and unrevealing. He used to be, anyway. It seems like something is emerging from the distant young man, something Raito is sure only he has seen. He feels pride because of that. He feels thankful, too, and that makes it a little easier to cross the threshold to Ryuzaki's room and shut the door behind him with a slightly trembling hand.
When he looks up, he sees Ryuzaki's face bathed in an odd color. His room is dark, except for the glowing blue color coming from the television a few feet from the raven-haired man's seated position on the ground. Ryuzaki looks strange with the shadows it creates on his face, making him look haunted. His dark hair is wild and sticking in all directions as if he's just gotten out of bed. How is it possible that it's looking slightly messier than usual? The whole atmosphere is eerie, but bewitching at the same time.
"In time, after being perched atop their mother's feet for a thousand paces, like a child learning to dance in her mother's shoes, the chick takes its first steps alone."
Morgan Freeman's voice is followed by a queer chirping sound and startles Raito out of his reverie. His eyes dart from Ryuzaki, who seems completely unaffected by the odd sounds, to the television. He's surprised to see a baby penguin on the screen, waddling awkwardly. The black parts of the penguin contrast deeply with its snowy white background, kind of like how Ryuzaki's hair is against his complexion...
Raito's eyes narrow, puzzled. March of the Penguins? Why?
"I can turn that off if you'd like." his friend offers quietly, almost shyly. "I've already seen it a few times, so I don't mind. I just didn't have anything else to do."
Raito shrugs carelessly in response. The movement makes the muscles in his neck ache and he grimaces involuntarily.
"Are you okay?" Ryuzaki asks, unsurprisingly noticing Raito's physical discomfort. He doesn't even try to hide the tinge of concern that contributes to Raito feeling flustered again.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just slept without a pillow last night. I guess it wasn't the best idea." he replies, laughing mirthlessly in a pathetic attempt to hide his discomfort. Belatedly, he realizes that Ryuzaki is probably going to start firing questions at him, and once again, he berates himself for being such a careless idiot.
"Why did you not sleep with a pillow?"
And there it is, that curious inquiry. Its occurrence became inevitable the second Raito felt that painful twinge in his neck.
But maybe telling the truth about this won't incriminate him. Maybe he can tell the partial truth, and that will be enough.
"I...uh, I spoke to it, like you told me to. But I got a little...passionate...um, angry, I guess..." he trails off pitifully, suddenly more ashamed with how he acted the night before when he describes the almost humorous incident aloud. He's far from laughing about it, though.
"Who were you angry at?" Ryuzaki asks, prompting him to continue. Raito knows he has to because he's already divulged some information. There's no going back now.
"The...The pillow. So I threw it. On the ground. And it stayed there for the rest of the night." Raito explains. He's more embarrassed than ever now. It sounds so foolish. But Ryuzaki's response helps lessen that, just a little. He doesn't look like he's about to laugh at Raito's expense. He just looks even more curious now, which is a bad thing, and that shouldn't make Raito relieved that he isn't being laughed at, because that would probably end better for him.
"Why were you angry?" he questions again. Raito can see where this is headed. Ryuzaki is going to keep asking question after question until he unearths his deepest secrets.
He suddenly doesn't want to speak, even though there's a part of him that wishes to pour his heart out so that it doesn't feel like he's so uncomfortably congested with secrets anymore. But he remains silent, despite that.
When Ryuzaki reaches for the remote control without ever leaving Raito's eyes and turns the television off, his anxiety grows considerably. The innocent chirping of those baby penguins helped defuse some of the tension weighing on the teenager's shoulders.
But now it's suddenly a lot dimer and quieter, and Ryuzaki is starting to stand up.
Raito simply stands frozen in place, unsure of what to do. He can't run. His legs feel permanently immobile and he's caught in the eccentric man's impenetrable gaze that makes his pulse quicken for two different reasons.
"Why were you angry?" Ryuzaki repeats. He's walking toward Raito now, reinforcing the fact that he's seriously desiring an answer. He looks deeply curious and even concerned, which Raito can clearly see with Ryuzaki's sudden close proximity. It isn't a hallucination.
This apathetic man is feeling something.
Raito suddenly feels a confession building in his throat, but he forces it down quickly. He's horrified that he could allow himself to be even slightly close to divulging everything. It would widen the distance between the two young men that has been crumbling ever so slightly since they first met. Raito doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to destroy the first feeling of having a connection with someone. It's one of the things he values most in life, coming second to Ryuzaki himself.
He blushes at the thought and that makes the man that's intruding in his personal bubble even more curious.
He suddenly wants to tell Ryuzaki everything so that he can get it off his chest. He can't think clearly with Ryuzaki so close. He just needs to say something, to relieve himself of this feeling that's eating at him from the inside.
"I've been angry at myself...for feeling really weird lately. Really weird about y-you, and...and—" he stops himself, suddenly realizing what a big mistake he's making. How does Ryuzaki do that? How can he get a confession—or, at least, partially a confession—so easily? Is it just this way with Raito, or is does he have this influence on everyone he meets? It's probably the latter. That's most likely why he has no friends other than Raito. Somehow, despite how intimidating he can be, Ryuzaki makes people want to reveal the most hideous side of themselves.
Ryuzaki's eyes widen in genuine curiosity, completely unhidden this time. Raito has brought him into this, and no matter how much he regrets that, he had made the candy addict personally involved, more so than before.
"What do you mean?" Ryuzaki asks. He sounds almost desperate for an answer now. Raito is sorry that he has made him desire the truth so deeply, but he can't divulge anything else. He won't.
"Raito-kun," Ryuzaki breathes, leaning closer, as if being so close will be intense enough for Raito to spill everything. "have I done something to make you uncomfortable?"
Raito shudders when he feels the heat of Ryuzaki's sweet breath and body heat touching him. He hopes the other young man doesn't notice it, but it's probably hopeless.
He processes Ryuzaki's words and answers them mentally. Yes, he has done something to make him uncomfortable. He has been Ryuzaki. That's all he has done. There's no helping that. Raito doesn't want to tell him to no longer eat sweets in front of him so that he can be spared of the provocative display that his body would respond inappropriately to. He doesn't want to tell Ryuzaki to censor himself at all. That would be telling him to alter his lifestyle, his habits and quirks, and Raito has no right to do that.
It isn't that he's at all offended by what Ryuzaki does around him. He likes the odd things he does, honestly, which is the source of the problem that is gaining more and more power over him with every passing moment. He hates that he likes it when Ryuzaki indulges in probably one of the only pleasures in his life. He hates that such innocent things like that can bring such a disgusting response from him. But he can't stop himself from getting aroused when he watches his friend savor each sweet thing that he puts in his mouth, when he watches him nibble on treats of all kinds until his lips get dark pink because of how passionately they suck when they're wrapped around his precious sugary delights.
As he thinks too deeply than intended, his heartbeat quickens and his lips part to emit a small sound between a gasp and a whimper. Ryuzaki's close proximity isn't helping matters any. Despite the dimness of the room, Raito can clearly see every feature of his friend's face. He looks at him, mainly because most of his sense is gone at this point. He's looking at Ryuzaki as if he has never seen him before, has never seen the inky-black eyelashes lining those dark, sleep-deprived eyes, the way his cheekbones are fairly prominent on his face, but not in a sickly way, and how those pink lips part for a question that seems to be refusing to be asked.
Those lips...he can't see them anymore, but he can feel them when Ryuzaki tilts his head and inclines it toward Raito's with a dazed look in his eyes, seeming to have forgotten about interrogating the younger man.
The brunet thinks he's imagining it at first, like he did in the shower, but he can't be. His mind could never create the feeling of those lips on his, not without Ryuzaki actually being there, gently meshing them with Raito's.
These lips, this mouth...it can't be his imagination. He knows what the apparition his mind created feels like, and this feels so much better. This kiss is nothing but real.
But it's suddenly gone, so quickly that Raito is beginning to think he really did imagine it. Does it matter, though, at this very moment? The exhilaration that stole his breath away is real and it's incredible, and that's all he thinks that matters right now.
He's knocked out of his pleasant daze when Ryuzaki speaks.
"Ah...I'm...very sorry, Raito-kun." he murmurs in a shaky voice, layered thickly in nervousness. Raito is distracted momentarily by how unrestrained the older man's emotions are. He can even see it on his face, covered with a blush of embarrassment. He sees his lips, too, trembling and looking slightly moist as a result of the moment of brief passion he pulled Raito into, and then ruthlessly took him out of.
He wants it back. That's all Raito is sure of, right now, is that he wants that back. He wants Ryuzaki's lips again.
His eyes meet Ryuzaki's and he sees that they're consumed with worry, unmistakable worry, which makes his own eyes widen in surprise at what this seemingly emotionless man is capable of feeling.
He looks at those lips again, those lips that were just on his. Remembering how it felt makes his pulse race and his breathing grow shallow. He knows his face is flushed, and it's because he's getting excited.
He leans forward without a second thought and captures Ryuzaki in another kiss. He's motionless against Raito, probably in shock and unable to fully process what's happening, despite his quickness to catch on things, usually.
Raito deepens it, needing to feel more, needing to taste more. He sucks on Ryuzaki's bottom lip, licking and nibbling gently at the soft flesh.
"R-Raito...? Wha—haah..." he groans when Raito slips his tongue in his mouth.
Raito couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to be in that hot, wet space, and now he is, stroking Ryuzaki's tongue and hoping to god that this will last forever.
Ryuzaki is frighteningly unresponsive. Raito feels the first beginnings of regret for submitting to his carnal desires, but stops thinking completely when he feels lanky arms snaking around his waist and pulling him closer, flush against Ryuzaki's trembling frame. This encourages the teenager. Being so close makes him throw all his inhibitions out the window.
Raito explores his mouth, unable to slow down so that Ryuzaki can get adjusted. He has what he has been craving and he's getting as much of it as he possibly can, before it goes away.
The brunet closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side, hoping to make their position a little more comfortable. His face fits into Ryuzaki's easier this way.
Ryuzaki finally responds, tentatively prodding Raito's tongue. A spark of lust shoots through both of their groins and Raito releases a long-restrained moan in his partner's mouth, muffled and quiet, so only they can hear it.
The teenager begins to pull away. He's aware that this is probably Ryuzaki's first time experiencing something like this and he doesn't want to overwhelm him right away. He wants to do this right. The unfortunate part about it, though, is that he isn't quite sure how to do it right. He's probably about as awkward in this situation as Ryuzaki is, having basically no experience as he has never felt the desire to do this with anyone until now. He can't refer to memories of romantic movies or even porn to help guide him through what he's doing. He almost regrets showing no interest in that now.
But would Ryuzaki really care about his lack of bedroom skills? Or is there even a lack of bedroom skills? Raito doesn't know. He's confused, but too aroused to care about his lack of knowledge other than the basics in this specific area. He's just doing what feels good, what he thinks will make Ryuzaki feel good, mostly, as his lips descend on his friend's jaw.
He begins kissing lightly, just feathery touches of his lips, and Ryuzaki shivers against him. But he wants to hear him. He also wants to taste him, and idly, he wonders if those two desires are linked.
He continues to chastely kiss Ryuzaki's smooth, hot skin. When his mouth reaches the trembling man's neck, he licks him gently, just a tiny sweep of the tip of his tongue. He can feel Ryuzaki's pulse hammering against his mouth. He can feel him swallow thickly. He can even feel the vibration in Ryuzaki's throat as he cries out while simultaneously tightening his grip on Raito.
Raito likes that hearing that, feeling that. The heat between his thighs throbs in response, but he ignores that and begins ravaging Ryuzaki's neck. His skin feels wet and slick because of Raito's sucking, licking, and nibbling, but neither of them care.
"Rai...Raito..." Ryuzaki murmurs breathlessly in a pleading tone. It's such a far cry from the tonelessness Raito is most familiar with. This is unfamiliar, but he likes it. He loves it. He wants to hear more of it, very badly. He wants to make Ryuzaki feel better than any candy or cake has ever made him feel. He wants there to be no competition in his friend's mind between him and confectionery. So his idle hand travels between the two bodies, rubbing Ryuzaki's clothed arousal through his baggy jeans. The young, raven-haired man squirms and hoarsely cries Raito's name in response to the feeling that comes with the touch.
As he grinds into Raito's hand, whimpering needingly, the brunet finds it increasingly hard to focus on Ryuzaki's neck, which is probably very hickey-ridden right now. Hearing his name said like that, feeling Ryuzaki's sharp breaths on the nape of his neck and his prominent arousal pressed against his hand makes it hard to focus on much of anything except for the demanding lust animating him.
He disengages his lips from Ryuzaki's skin, still relishing the taste of him lingering on his tongue. He swears he can hear the aroused man against him whine slightly in disappointment. Raito allows himself to smile briefly, amused, before clumsily guiding him toward Ryuzaki's unmade bed. It doesn't take long for the raven-haired man to catch on and he stumbles along with Raito. They're probably quite the sight, hardly being able to manage such a short distance because of their tight hold on each other. Raito certainly isn't ready to part, even for a moment. He doesn't want this feeling to wane.
They finally tumble awkwardly on the bed, a mess of limbs, two trembling bodies, hot and quivering with newfound lust.
Raito finally gets his bearings and straddles Ryuzaki. He's going on a whim again, unsure of exactly what to do, unsure of exactly what's best. But he knows what he wants. And hopefully, Ryuzaki wants the same thing.
He suddenly grabs the hem of Ryuzaki's baggy t-shirt and pulls it over the man's head. Raito has never seen what he hides under that shirt, but he does know that Ryuzaki has quite a small frame, and despite the fact that he never eats anything healthy, he's very slim, as well. But looking at that naked, heaving torso, he gets the feeling that his friend is stronger than he lets on. While he's by no means brawny at all, more on the scrawny side, in fact, he looks healthy. Where there isn't skin and bone, there's muscle. He's lean and that gives the illusion that he's as weak as he looks at first glance. But Raito knows better. He knows that Ryuzaki is strong enough to violently push him off as a way of stopping this. But the younger man can't imagine it having to go that far. All he'd need is a silent plea in his new lover's eyes to slow down or stop, and he would do it, despite the fact that he knows he'd crave more.
The teenager looks up, suddenly growing fearful because of his own thoughts. He's afraid of the possibility Ryuzaki is already regretting this. But all he sees in those eyes—unhidden and saturated with emotion for once—is raw lust and a tinge of impatience. If that heated look hadn't stole his breath away, he'd be sighing in relief.
He reads the message clearly, that Ryuzaki wants more, more of him, and he happily obliges. He places moist, open-mouthed kisses down the chest of the man underneath him. He tries to taste every part of the milky white skin. He's encouraged by Ryuzaki's gasping and breathless moaning to keep going further, to keep going down.
His hands find the waist of Ryuzaki's jeans. He slips his fingers under those, as well as the boxers underneath. He doesn't stop kissing and sucking that smooth skin as he does this. His lips only travel further as his hands pull the rest of Ryuzaki's clothes off, fingers trailing down his thighs suggestively in the process.
The man underneath him draws in a shuddering breath as Raito places a soft kiss on his hip.
"Ah...Raito, you don't...have to...do that..." he gasps breathlessly, obviously picking up on the brunet's intentions. Raito looks up at him in response and sees apprehension in his dark eyes for the first time.
Does he not want Raito to do this? Would it be too much of a personal invasion for Ryuzaki? Raito doesn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. He wants to make him feel good. He wants to do this; he really wants to.
"I want to." he echoes his thoughts, breathing the words sensually. Ryuzaki's eyes widen, like he hadn't expected that. But Raito wouldn't utilize an opportunity to get out of this, even if he were faced with several. He has never felt this way before. Considering that this is the first time he has felt this, the desire is awfully strong. But that isn't even his first priority. Ryuzaki's desire is the most important to him right now.
As he slides down further, Ryuzaki is silent, save for his shallow exhalations. Raito can hear a hitch in the breathing, however, when he buries his face between the man's parted thighs. He parts his lips, very close to Ryuzaki's weeping erection, and teasingly blows the tip. He's rewarded with a sharp cry from his new lover. His own state of arousal seems to get stronger in response, but he ignores it, flicking his tongue on the tip of the erect member in front of him experimentally.
"Uhnn!" Ryuzaki moans loudly. Raito is relieved at the positive response. He's pretty clueless as to how to preform mind-blowing fellatio. He's never done anything like this before. He hasn't even had this done to him before, either. And it isn't like he'd ever planned on doing it, so he has had no preparation. But he knows it's supposed to feel good, and it seems like Ryuzaki is feeling good, so his confidence grows. When he licks the underside of his shaft, Ryuzaki very nearly convulses under him. He gets more daring, then, and takes Ryuzaki's member in his mouth. The taste of precum swirling on his tongue is bitter, but not as bad as he'd expected it would be. It's Ryuzaki's, and that's why he likes it. His logic is flawed, he knows, but it doesn't matter. He likes the feeling of completely abandoning logic for once. It's too constricting.
The raven-haired man instinctively thrusts forward, desperate for more. But Raito isn't prepared and almost gags when Ryuzaki's erection hits the back of his throat. He doesn't pull away, though. He's determined to get used to all of this in his mouth—or, most of it, anyway. He's fitting what he can.
"Nnng...ahh, s-sorry Raitooo..." Ryuzaki moans, sounding both very apologetic and highly pleasured at the same time. But the brunet understands Ryuzaki's lack of control. If their roles were reversed, Raito would probably be trying to fuck Ryuzaki's face without abandon right now. The fact that Ryuzaki is still holding onto some semblance of control is admirable, and it makes Raito happy that he cares enough about him to make the level of discomfort as low as possible.
He bobs his head and then begins to lick and suck gently, his mouth starting to feel used to the large intrusion.
"Raito! Raaaiiito...m-more! Please..." he nearly sobs, bucking in the hot cavern of the brunet's mouth. The younger man resists the urge to gag again and eagerly welcomes what he can in his mouth. He grows used to the feeling pressure at the back of his throat, almost taking pleasure in it.
Raito can feel thin, spindly fingers running through his hair, mussing it, and Ryuzaki's harsh exhalations fanning out at the back of his neck. He shivers, liking the feeling of being touched, liking everything about this. He likes pleasuring Ryuzaki, especially, and likes the sounds of his breathless vocalizations as he licks the length of Ryuzaki's shaft, still unaware if his inexperience is showing.
If Ryuzaki's response to this is anything to go by, apparently, it isn't showing.
He begins to wonder if he could come without ever being touched. The lust flooding his body makes him believe it might be possible. He's so aroused, so painfully aroused, like never before. No, not even when he watched Ryuzaki eat that chocolate, not when he saw that heated look in his friend's eyes for the first time at the coffee shop, not even moments before his orgasm just earlier today. It's because he knows this is real. It isn't just a fantasy anymore that once seemed completely, almost heartbreakingly impossible. This is reality, and oddly, he has never had such a strong grasp on it as he does now.
Ryuzaki makes this real for him. It isn't what he's doing so much as it is who he's doing it to and what it means because of that. And that's a good thing. He knows he'll never doubt that this happened. Ryuzaki's lustful pleas and moans will echo in his ears whenever he wants them to, even if this is the only time he'll be able to hear them. It will make his cock throb, like it is now. It will make him feel like he can come with just that, like it is now. It feels like a gift.
The feeling of Ryuzaki's fingers knotting in his hair, clenching and unclenching, makes Raito moan involuntarily around Ryuzaki's erection.
"Nnngh—ohh, Rai...Rai...!" he babbles incoherently. "Rai Rai" almost sounds like a nickname, even though Ryuzaki obviously didn't mean it that way. Still, Raito chuckles, amused, which causes Ryuzaki to cry out another garbled version of his name because of the vibrations being sent down his erection.
"Mm...ha...ahh, Raito, I-I'm...c-com—"
The rest of Ryuzaki's words freeze behind his lips when Raito sucks rather passionately, not even close to heeding to Ryuzaki's warning. He wants him to come. He wants Ryuzaki to come harder than he ever has in his life, in his waiting mouth, and he wants to swallow every drop of it, and he wants to tell himself that he's the only person that will ever taste it.
Ryuzaki arches, thighs brushing against Raito's head.
"Ahh! Yes! Y-Yes, Raito!" he cries, releasing into the brunet's mouth.
Raito relaxes his throat and swallows what he can. His orgasm is messy and some of his seed drips down Raito's chin, not that he minds. He continues to milk his friend of every last drop and then pulls away just in time to see Ryuzaki thrashing on the bed, sheets tangled around his flushed body and hair even messier than it usually is, if that's possible.
Raito drinks in this incredible sight for all its worth. Ryuzaki has never looked like this, not even during his confectionery orgasms. The teenager feels awed that there's something that his friend enjoys even more than that. He would feel really accomplished for successfully undoing his usually placid companion, but the throbbing of his own arousal as he watches Ryuzaki climax overrides most of any other emotions he's feeling at the moment.
The older boy's tremors eventually slow to a trembling. Raito sees his eyes finally focusing on him, and he suddenly feels a little vulnerable. He knows he's an open book right now. He isn't bothering to hide anything, because honestly, there isn't much to hide anymore. But that doesn't stop the instinctive urge to search for an appropriate expression to wear. He just doesn't know how to act. This is really new to him, as it probably is for Ryuzaki, too. If his friend's antisocial behavior and seemingly complete disinterest in sex didn't indicate that, his initial apprehension did.
Suddenly, he sees those dark eyes widen in shock when they make contact with his face. He panics, worrying that he has done something to make Ryuzaki regret this, done something wrong, but his thoughts are cut short when the subject on his mind speaks, his voice soft and breathy.
"You...You swallowed it..." he murmurs, sounding taken aback. "Why?"
Raito allows himself to relax, grateful that his friend seems to be devoid of any emotion akin to regret or disgust. He would never care for anyone else's opinion. He never has. But right now, he's realizing that Ryuzaki is the exception to that independent personality trait. He's also realizing that he doesn't care.
"I wanted...to taste all of you." Raito replies huskily, licking some cum on his lower lip slowly to punctuate his statement. He doesn't care if that sounds a little sluttish. It makes it worth it when he sees Ryuzaki's eyes darken in desire again. It makes Raito's arousal even more demanding, but he ignores it again, instead crawling up the body underneath him and placing a chaste kiss on the man's throat, making him shiver in delight. Raito feels that this is over, even though he hasn't released yet. He has brought Ryuzaki to what seemed like an earth-shattering climax, and that's enough for him.
Apparently, Ryuzaki, who's gazing at Raito through half-lidded eyes, has picked up on the brunet's intent to leave things as they are right now.
"You're still—" Ryuzaki mutters, shooting a questioning glance at the conspicuous bulge at Raito's nether regions.
"I know." Raito replies quickly, hushing the other man with a quick kiss, and then pulling back to speak again. "It's fine. It'll go away on its own."
But Raito doubts that it will go away. He has never been so aroused in his life. His erection isn't going to wilt any time soon, but he really wasn't lying when he said that it would be fine. He feels gratified, having done this, and he doesn't feel like Ryuzaki is obligated to give something back. The teenager feels like he has already been given something, anyway. He feels like this is a privilege, being allowed to get this close to the man that's usually so distant. He must have earned some trust. He'll cherish that. And that's enough for him.
"No...'snot...fine." Ryuzaki protests softly, still sounding drunk from his orgasm. He squirms out from underneath Raito, the brunet feeling a little alarmed. It isn't fine? What isn't fine? Is he going to leave?
When Ryuzaki gently guides Raito to lie on his back, the brunet too puzzled to protest, it's obvious that no one is going to be leaving soon—or, at least, right now, anyway.
He feels Ryuzaki's face at the bottom of his neck, nuzzling gently. The warmth that spreads through his body almost distracts him from speaking, from asking about what's being done to him. Almost.
"Ryuza—" he utters, and then the word is abruptly cut off when he feels a wet pressure at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.
He never knew that area could be so sensitive.
"O-Oooh! R-Ryu!" he moans loudly, his erection pulsing, now so much harder than he ever thought possible.
The man above him shudders and returns with breathing Raito's name hotly against his skin. The brunet groans and grinds into Ryuzaki's hips, now fully aware of the return of the man's arousal.
He feels insistent hands pulling at his khaki-colored slacks, fumbling with the zipper clumsily, and then thumbs dipping underneath his boxers. The pads of those thumbs teasingly massage the hollows inside his hips.
Raito hisses and thrusts upward instinctively as Ryuzaki's touch makes pleasure dance down his spine.
He's acutely aware of those hands on him, making him quiver in delight, but only vaguely aware of what those hands are doing.
Raito watches, slightly dazed, as his friend strips him of the clothes of his lower torso, then darting back up and gripping the edge of his t-shirt that he'd never wear in anyone's company but Ryuzaki's. It's too casual. But he knows his friend doesn't care about that at all. That makes Raito feel comfortable with him. That's one reason why he can't imagine doing this with anyone but Ryuzaki.
His thoughts are interrupted when Ryuzaki's hand suddenly grasps his length, and his vision goes white for a moment as unadulterated, raw euphoria washes over him.
"Nggh—mm!" he cries, thrusting into that hand. "So g-good!"
Who is this?, Raito wonders. How could Ryuzaki, always so unenthusiastic, always so stoic, be so passionate? Has he always been this way? Or is it just because of Raito? No...no, that would be arrogant to assume. That can't be—
"Uuuhn! Ryu...Ryuzaki...?" he pants, feeling something different somewhere in between the bombardment of pleasure. He's confused now, but it's hard to process anything with the sudden hot, tight heat sheathed around his length. It feels incredible, but that doesn't stop him from heeding to his inquisitive nature, looking down to see what Ryuzaki is doing to make him feel literally dizzy with pleasure.
The utterly erotic sight he sees sends him reeling with both ecstasy and shock. Ryuzaki, arms extended behind him, leaning on his palms, fucking himself on Raito's engorged cock, and gazing right back at Raito. There's a silent question in those eyes, swimming with lust and pain, asking if this is okay. The unhidden grimace on his flushed face displays not only discomfort at being penetrated without any preparation, but also worry, perhaps wondering if he's doing this right or if this is even the right thing to do. Raito knows that feeling, that feeling of insecurity he briefly experienced when he took things a lot further with the raven-haired man.
Raito answers that question by thrusting deeper into Ryuzaki, very gently so as not to cause any unneeded discomfort. It's probably already painful enough for him.
His features twist in pain, despite his partner's deliberate gentleness.
"Aughh," the teenager groans as heat shoots through his groin. "S-Sorry. Are you o...kay?"
Ryuzaki nods once. His chest is heaving. Raito pauses for a moment, even though he wants nothing more than to pound into that tight heat. He wants—no, needs friction—but he can wait. He'll wait for Ryuzaki, happily, even, because honestly, his friend's pleasure means more than his own.
Admittedly, that selflessness is very un-Raito-like.
Through his half-lidded eyes, the teenager can see Ryuzaki's body beginning to relax. If he's reading his body language right, he's starting to grow used to the intrusion. That suspicion in confirmed when Ryuzaki rises once, and then impales himself on Raito's member.
"Mnn...ah, Ryuuu!" Raito howls, relishing that unbelievable sensation and the arousing thought, no—reality—that he's inside Ryuzaki, buried in that incredible warmth.
"Y-Yes, Raito..." Ryuzaki replies roughly. His voice is tight, betraying the pain building inside him, but it has a tinge of longing that lets the younger man know that the pain is subsiding, if just a little.
The two begin to develop a pace, with Raito thrusting up slightly when Ryuzaki lowers himself. They become more frenzied with each passing moment.
Ryuzaki suddenly cries out hoarsely. Raito would've been worried, would've assumed he'd done something to hurt his friend—lover—badly, if not for the tone screaming for more. He—they—found it, that sensitive bundle of nerves that can potentially cause sensational pleasure.
The teenager watches Ryuzaki, almost hypnotized, as he rides Raito with growing ardor. His head is tilted back, eyes fluttering closed, ebony hair sticking to his forehead and neck because he's damp with perspiration. His face is flushed, attractively pink, and his kiss-bruised, plump lips parted for the release of pleasured whimpering and moaning.
Raito has never seen anything so attractive, anything or anyone so completely beautiful. And it's Ryuzaki. It's his unconventional, bizarre friend that he's having sex with. It's so weird how things are turning out.
Not that Raito is complaining. No, he could never complain. He could never be displeased with this...this incredible, hot sensation that is the indescribable friction being imposed on his member. He has never been so consumed with such pleasure.
Raito leans up on his wobbling arms, intent on touching Ryuzaki. He has to. He can't abstain from it anymore, despite the fact that they're about as connected as they're ever going to get, literally speaking. But that doesn't chase away the desire to touch him. It's instinctive. You see something you like, something that you're attracted to for whatever reason, and you want to touch it. You want to feel it, to explore every aspect of it, to get to know it beyond simply knowing what it looks like.
So Raito does just that. He extends one arm toward the trembling man on top of him and gently grasps his neglected erection.
"Haah, Rai-to!" Ryuzaki immediately responds. As the teenager begins pumping, Ryuzaki gets even more fervent with his movements, encouraged by the brunet's touch. Their guttural moans increase in volume with every passing, pleasure-filled second.
When Raito feels a familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, he becomes determined to release with Ryuzaki. He wants to come at the same time. He wants to feel the approaching climax and know that his new lover is feeling it as well, right that moment, riding it out with him.
Raito's thumb slides over the slit teasingly, and then he rubs precum down his partner's length. The slickness makes his movements more fluid and quick. Ryuzaki shows his appreciation by shouting the teenager's name in ecstasy, never once faltering in his movements as he repeatedly slides up and down Raito's throbbing arousal.
"Ryu...Ryuzaki," Raito gasps, just teetering over the edge. "come for me. Ahh, god, please..."
The other man lets out a shuddering breath, and then messily releases in Raito's hand and on his abdomen just after the younger man pants out those words.
"Raito! F-Feels good! Rai...to...!" Ryuzaki babbles as he climaxes.
Watching him come, hearing that normally toneless voice rip from the man's throat in pleasured groans and whimpers, and feeling the muscles tighten where his member is trapped throws Raito off the edge. He arches off the bed, lower stomach muscles clenching as he releases in the other man. He can vaguely hear himself chanting Ryuzaki's name like he did the last time he climaxed to him. There's a roaring in his ears and his vision goes blurry for a moment as euphoria seizes hold of him. This is nothing compared to his experience in the shower. The tingling he feels everywhere Ryuzaki has touched him is incredible. It makes him reach a height of pleasure he could've never imagined existed, and Ryuzaki roused this from him. Despite the fact that Raito is surprised it's Ryuzaki, of all people, he can't imagine ever responding this way to anyone else's touch.
When the roaring in his ears dulls a bit and he controls his tremors, for the most part, the teenager opens his eyes. He sees Ryuzaki, having the same battle with his body as he tries to stop trembling so much. Raito doesn't even have to look to know he's here. He can feel him. This isn't like in the shower, when this man only existed in his fantasy. He's present even after Raito comes down from the best experience he has ever had. And that, above all, is what makes this so indisputably real.
Raito's orgasm begins to ebb, but his contentment doesn't. He just continues to watch the man still perched on top of him attempt to gain control of himself, and doing so, for the most part. The raven-haired man is starting to look more lucid.
Those dark eyes meet Raito's sepia ones shyly. The brunet is pleased to see that they're still saturated with emotion. The younger man feels his face color when a small, timid smile forms on Ryuzaki's face. It doesn't look unnatural, like it should on a person that never shows feelings like that. But the innocence that seems to be radiating from the odd man, despite the fact that he's just engaged in activities anything but innocent, brings a genuinely happy smile out of Raito, too.
Their gazes separate as Ryuzaki slides off of Raito, grimacing slightly. The teenager can only imagine how uncomfortable it probably is.
They stare at each other again for a few moments and both begin to feel a little awkward. Ryuzaki looks confused and indecisive, which is probably the most surprising emotion the man could ever show, honestly. He's always so sure of everything. But seeing the humanity that his friend has kept hidden makes Raito feel like he's trusted, and that feels amazing. He'll do anything to make sure Ryuzaki continues to feel that way.
Raito grasps his pale hand, a little unsure. He feels like there are still crossable lines. Even such innocent gestures can be perceived as very intimate and personal.
When Ryuzaki closes his hand around Raito's in acceptance and allows the younger man to pull him down so that they're flesh-to-flesh again, both know that yes, there are many more crossable lines. But that's okay, because now, they're allowed to be crossed. Being so physically close indicates a lot of broken boarders between the two.
Any lingering doubt Raito is experiencing disappears when he kisses Ryuzaki, very gently with more tenderness than any of their previous ones, simply because the older man accepts it so easily.
Those crossable lines represent the infinite opportunities that they can experience together. And they'll continue crossing them.
A/N: Lol. Snot. I think there's a reason it isn't an official contraction.
Just to let you know, I'm not original enough to come up with that therapy pillow thing. It was briefly mentioned in this HBO series I once watched called Six Feet Under. So that's where I got it from.
I need to learn how to end this stuff well.
Oh, hey! Fun fact: I wrote the very first scene with the chocolate caramel Easter eggs as I was eating said chocolate caramel Easter eggs. You know how motherfucking good those are? I almost got sick from eating so much chocolate. But I don't get them often, so it's justified. I am not addicted.
Review please. :)