It is lost. All of it.
The door is closing, so he shoves a foot across the frame. The lips are sealed, so he shoves a tongue through. Takano is having a hard time. How do you open a lock, when you don't even know what's the key? Something that was once as natural as breathing, rusted by ten years.
He is lost. All of him.
Where is it? Takano does a frisk search. He pulls the waist-tie loose, and the coat falls off slender shoulders. Onodera protests. He rips the shirt open, and the buttons clatter on the floor. Onodera pushes him off. He pulls him close by the lean waist, flicking the belt off. Onodera turns away. He tips the slight frame, back towards the bed, then pulls the trousers off.
Onodera says, "No." Not angry. Not cold. Afraid.
Takano says, "Yes." His own shirt falls to the ground.
His mouth on his, chaste at first, ravenous in seconds. All objections are extinguished.
Yes, yes, yes.
Takano gets his fill of Onodera, feeling the feverish skin under his hands. Arms, chest, stomach—all lean muscle and bone—down to the thin trail of hair leading to the inside of his boxers. Afterwards, he indulges himself by feeling the shuddering of that warm, taut body under his tongue. What the withheld moans don't convey, Onodera's fierce grip on his hair does. When he reaches the boxers again, he snaps the elastic against the sensitive flesh. Onodera groans at being teased.
A surge of pleasure pounds in Takano's veins and he rips the boxers off. He kneads the inside of Onodera's thighs with slight pressure, the touch promising something less innocuous. He looks up at his tense face, eyes shut tight as if refusing to acknowledge the lust obviously acknowledged by the engorged staff between his legs. Without taking his eyes off that face, Takano swipes a rough tongue up his thigh. Onodera's eyes fly open, his hips gyrating up and down in helpless abandon.
"Takano-san," Onodera gasps, a plea in his voice.
"Do it yourself," Takano suggests, licking his lips. He knows he's killing the man, but he can't help it. He's spent too many nights lusting after that fantasy to let a chance to see it happen pass. Onodera looks at him incredulously with those eyes, those piercing green eyes and something snaps. Takano promptly pinches his pebble-hard nipples. The brunette's eyes shut as he arches his back. With a hesitant hand, he starts masturbating.
'Too much.' Takano knows he's jumped off a cliff. 'I can't.' Fingers trembling slightly, he hastily unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his suddenly-too-tight jeans. He moans in relief as his cock escapes the painful confines. Onodera watches with half-lidded eyes as it automatically stands in stiff attention, leaking at the tip. He feels compelled to look away at something this utterly lewd, but is being held powerless against the unexpected and overwhelming feeling of pure, wanton lust. Onodera gapes on, hypnotized, as Takano wets two fingers with his own pre-cum and pushes them through his parted lips. Even as he sucks off those fingers, he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off Takano.
Onodera feels the coarse tongue lick the line of his throat. He lets out a stifled moan when a bite follows.
"Hip," Takano says. It comes out suspiciously like a moan. Lifting his taut thighs, Onodera struggles to obey. His feet clutch the sweat-covered back, desperate to stroke his hardness against Takano's. But he is quaking just a little bit too much to get a good enough grip to push himself up. Without his bidding, a whimper of frustration escapes between his rapid breathing, and Takano couldn't help but smirk.
"If you want my cock so bad, just say so," he smugly advises. Then, without warning, he takes Onodera's hand and wraps it around him. A groan forms in his own throat.
"Touch me," he commands, his voice half a growl. "Hard."
And Onodera does. Takano lowers his head on one reddened nipple and sucks eagerly. Onodera gasps in pain, then shivers in pleasure as hot and rough hands skim down his torso. 'Hot. So hot.'
"It's your fault," Takano moans, lips vibrating around his chest. Onodera hadn't realized that he's said it out loud. He flushes, either in embarrassment or at the steaming breath and tongue playing with his nipple, or perhaps both. Takano pulls away and stares down at him hungrily. When finally, finally, he feels the long callused fingers stroking his dripping arousal, his head slams back down the pillow hard and a small cry escapes his lips. At the back of his mind, a humiliated thought tells him to hide his face, hide this helpless whorein him that only Takano can provoke. But he can't. The stronger man is holding him down with one hand. The shame turns to savagery and he digs his nails deep across Takano's back.
Insanity follows. It hardly mattered who dove in first as their lips clash in something way too chaotic, way too ugly to be called a kiss. Saliva drips down Onodera's mouth as their open lips crush one another, tongues fighting with ferocity enough to bruise. Takano seizes Onodera's behind and kneads the soft flesh. The latter would never know how often he's stared at that ass walking down the hall, getting hard at the thought of gripping them just like he's doing now. Instead of breaking down completely, Onodera summons a measure of control and kisses Takano back deeply.
'He's a damn good kisser,' Takano manages to think in between attempts at breathing. He's kissed countless women and men before, but no one does it like Onodera does. He has no idea how the brunette jumped from the hopeless kisser he was ten years ago to this irresistible one he is now. Then it occurs to him that Onodera's probably had a lot of practice with other women.
And that was enough for him to gather his wits back. "Mine,"he snarls as his fingers, slick with sweat and pre-cum, tease the puckered skin between Onodera's cheeks. His answering gasp allows Takano to thrust his tongue down his throat. Then he plunges a dripping finger into the twitching hole.
Instinctively, Onodera arches his hips to sink the intruder deeper into him. Takano pulls out and pushes back in with two digits. The smaller man finds himself half in pleasure at being filled, and half in agony at not being filled enough. As if to indulge him, Takano inserts a third finger, probing both in and around. Onodera feels himself losing grip of control once again.
"Mine," Takano says into his lips, his statement a demand. Onodera turns away in mortification. But Takano will not have it, not this time. He needs to hear it. He finds that spot inside Onodera, that bunch of nerves that makes him lose all sense and propriety.
That's when he breaks. "Yours," he pants, hot breath smothering Takano's lips. "Please."
Takano takes a moment, eyes closed, savouring the words. 'Mine. Mine, mine, mine.' It makes him harder than any touch, any kiss, than sex itself. He rewards Onodera with his cock.
He would watch, he swears to himself. He would watch every second of it. First it is the eyes, slowly widening in anticipation. Then it is the mouth, parting for the frenzied panting and sighs. After which comes the face, grimacing in a trance of lust. The whole body follows, arching and shuddering and desperately twisting to accommodate the force of wild, unforgiving fucking. Lastly, it is the eyes once more, tearing up, unable to reign in the pure ecstasy of it all.
Takano dares not blink as his partner transforms into an animal. It is one delicious sight. He bites his own lips and draws blood.
"Beautiful," he murmurs as he kisses him again, vicious and gentle all at once.
For a moment Onodera gazes right at him, eyes half-lidded and shining. "Takano-san," he says, simply, plaintively, reaching up to hold the ravenhead's face.
And they make love.
They make love, every thrust sending electricity along the spine, sending balls slamming too fast to follow. Takano pulls back, as if recoiling from the pleasure. Onodera begins to meet him thrust for thrust, clenching around him so tight it is almost painful. His strokes go harder, stronger, as if a mad urgency is driving him on.
'More, more, more.'
Onodera whimpers at each blow, hands clenched tight around the sheets, until Takano pries his fingers off and places them on the flesh of his hips. Then he slams in as powerfully as he can, right into Onodera's spot, obliterating all thought. The whimpers become distorted cries of Takano's name, over and over and over, filling all the hollowness ten years has built.
'No more.' Takano opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, the thought a burst of relief and a silent prayer. 'No more.'
Then he looks back at Ritsu's face, his flushed and glistening body, his twitching, drenched cock in Takano's own hastily stroking hands. He burns Ritsu into his memory as he reaches his orgasm, his white hot cum soaking them both. And then Takano screams. He screams like a wild animal howling into the night, screaming for climax, screaming for Ritsu.
When the waves of delirium start to quiet in his head, Takano becomes aware of Onodera's slim body, warm in his arms. He brushes a thumb across a closed eyelid, down to a sharp cheekbone, to lips slightly parted in sleep. With strange fascination, he follows the rise and fall of the brunette's flat chest, matching his heartbeat for his. His life for his. He is lost. But here is Onodera, tethering him to this fragment of hope.
Then, as feather-light as a whisper, Onodera sighs, "Takano-san."
Needless to say, it doesn't take much longer before Onodera wakes up to Takano lazily sucking his newly-hardening cock. And the bastard takes his sweet goddamn time.
Because he was lost. All of him. But now, he is found.