[It's the sweetest torture he's ever experienced, that slow slide of his dick from Aomine's throat, the teasing, dirty, skilled way Aomine tongues him. He's sure it's seared in his memory forever, another in the dozens of entries on Aomine, another thing that makes his breath stutter in his throat. His hand falls away from Aomine's face to clutch at the cushion again, because he wants nothing more than to press back up into that hot, wet, beautiful mouth, to feel that pressure and that warmth--
And then Aomine speaks and Kagami swears he can feel his head swim, just for a millisecond.
It's the sound of Aomine's voice that cinches it. Hearing the roughness in it, knowing that it's because of him, because of the way Aomine'd swallowed down his dick -- that's what pushes him over the edge, finally, inevitably. His hips press and jerk against Aomine's hold on them, bucking up without his meaning to, because his release hits him with a force that's nothing short of overwhelming. He doesn't know what kinds of noises he's making; he just knows that he must be, because the sound of his own muffled voice is ringing in his ears, all around them. His head goes back, his teeth biting into his bottom lip and his eyes squeezed shut, even though he wants, so badly, to see it, to watch it happen--
There is a lot. He can feel it; the orgasm rips through his body with the force of a hurricane, almost lifting him off of the seat, sending every nerve aflame. The moment he has his breath back he's gasping, straightening, opening his eyes so he can see. And god, it's so dirty, so lewd and obscene that the warmth and pressure in his chest seems entirely out of place. The words that hover at the tip of his tongue...
He can't tell Aomine. Not now, not like this, not when he's just come on that handsome face, when Aomine's sucked his dick and then asked him for it. Not even if he's the most beautiful person Kagami's ever seen. Not yet.]
Fuck, [is what he breathes instead, in a voice that doesn't quite sound like his own.] Fuck, Aomine, that--
[ He has to close his eyes, too, which is a shame, but that's how it goes. That's the little price he has to play. He sure as hell listens, and god, fuck, even that much is astounding to him. It pounds right through him, through his head and every party, down into his dick, and he'll never forget it, he'll never forget the sounds Kagami makes when he comes, wild and yet helpless, rough and yet the sexiest thing he's ever heard.
There's some in his hair, when it's over. There's some sliding slowly down his neck. There's probably a little on his collar, and there's certainly plenty on his lips and one cheek.
Warm. ]
Haaaa, Kagami.
[ He opens his eyes. He licks his lips, and tastes salt and loam. ]
You came a ton.
[ He leans back on his heels, looks up, and feels loose and tight at the same time. He simmers. That's a good word for it; he simmers, restless but moving very little, and only with purpose. He pulls off a glove and touches his fingers to his face. He licks those, too, to get a little more of the flavor.
He looks at Kagami, his lids slightly lowered, as if he's thinking of something at the same time. ]
Now I'm going to fuck you.
[ There's a handkerchief in the front pocket of his suit jacket. That takes care of the rest of Kagami's come, though there's missed opportunities there, chances to make him clean it, to taste himself--But Aomine already knows he can't wait that long. It's maybe a miracle that he's been able to hold it together this long.
A miracle, or an incredible desire to pull this off.
He pushes off the floor and sits on the seat opposite of Kagami. He keeps his back straight and pulls off his second glove. ]
[He's still barely catching his breath when Aomine says it. I'm going to fuck you. It's like a thread is pulled, like some kind of ON switch flipped deep inside him, because Kagami remembers, suddenly, what it is they were going to do -- and god, it hasn't been any time at all since he's come but he can feel it building, the want coiling in his belly again, or maybe still.
Maybe it's the rawness and certainty in Aomine's voice, the way he sounds like sex personified. Maybe it's the way he looks in his slim cut suit, all long and sharp and impossibly handsome. Or maybe, just maybe, it's just that Kagami's never not wanting him, not even when he's just gotten off.
Yes, he thinks, his eyes on Aomine hooded with exhaustion but also bright with longing. Yes.
The first thing he does, though, is bend down and undo the fastenings on his motorcycle boots. These get pulled off, along with he socks. It's only after that, once he's barefoot, that he makes his way over to Aomine, with the soft carpet under his toes. His entire body feels overheated, primed for touch, ready to please. His shirt has slipped back down over his chest, but his black jeans hang low on his hips, as do his boxers. It takes only another two seconds to remove both, though he feels oddly naked without them, worse than if he'd been completely nude.
It just makes him all the more sensitive when he slides himself onto the seat, straddling Aomine's lap. He can feel the fine fabric of Aomine's pants all too keenly against his bare thighs; can feel, too, the warmth of the hard, lean body underneath.
His hands cradle Aomine's head so Kagami can lean in and kiss him properly, chasing the taste of himself and shivering, just a little, with the thought.]
[ There's nobody in the world that's as sexy as Kagami.
Not a single fucking soul.
Aomine can't quite help it that he loses it a little right then, loses that somewhat-strong hold he has on his current persona. It's not that he wants to fuck him any less, or any less hard, but his chest goes hot and tight, and his dick thrums, and his balls ache, and he can't stop himself from looking at him. He can't stop his eyes from warming and softening, can't stop his hands from coming up to rest on Kagami's hard, lean hips, and fuck, fuck he's so lewd, and so beautiful, and for a moment he's just biting his lower lip and holding on to this treasure of his that he suddenly realizes he's about to make his all over again, in an infinitely erotic way.
He has to take a little time before he does anything. He has to breathe. ]
Kagami...
[ He whispers the name against his lips and is fond and quiet, like a secret.
Then he has to hurry forward, because if he doesn't, he'll never make it at all, and the bare fingers that slide up the backs of Kagami's thighs are slick and hot, because he didn't waste time just with watching and like all things in Tanagura, this private space is well-prepared. The gel heats as his fingertips glide over Kagami's skin, sparking with warmth and a spiced smell. He cups the undersides of his asscheeks, massaging the soft dip in his otherwise muscular body and licks at Kagami's lower lip. ]
I can't wait.
[ That's all he says. That's all he can say.
He rolls his knuckles against Kagami's asshole, shocked by how hot he feels, and guides his middle finger inside. His hands are steady, unlike his heart, which feels like it will rock right out of his chest. ]
[He can feel goosebumps materialising in the trail of Aomine's fingers on his skin, their slick heat, the promise that they whisper. His hands tighten in Aomine's hair, his breath stuttering as he prepares for it, waits for it--
And there it is, the pressure, the intrusion into his body. Everything he feels is so sharp and so clear, so different from the haze of pleasure inside the monster's cave. He can feel his body resist, still, his muscles clenching around the digit because he's not as used to this as he'd like to be; still, even the discomfort can't shake the wave of arousal that washes through him, the sheer horniness of knowing what Aomine's doing, what he's about to do to Kagami and with him.
He has to bite his lip, and hiss, and drop his face onto Aomine's shoulder again to hide the shocked, caught, needy expression he's sporting. This -- it feels like the most vulnerable he's ever been, and for the first time he can appreciate just what it meant for Aomine to give this to him, all those months ago. He feels open, exposed, there for the taking, but it's fine, it's fine, because it's Aomine, because they're each other's, because nothing bad could happen to him here.
His throat tightens. He might cry. He might actually cry. There is nothing about this he doesn't want desperately, but even the desire is so sharp and acute in his belly he can't quite take it. He doesn't know what to do with himself, with this longing that runs through him, with all the things he feels and knows and is struggling so hard not to say to Aomine.]
I want--
[He can feel his voice breaking a little and he has to stop and breathe out. His hands slide down the front of Aomine's smooth dress shirt, fingers tangling in the cool fabric of his tie before they find their way lower, to where his dick is still straining against the confines of his pants.]
I want it. [He forces himself to look up again as the words stumble out, honest and a little unsteady, and he presses his palm against the rock-hard ridge he feels under the layers of fabric. He massages Aomine's dick -- heavy, deliberate, unhurried petting, as he feels the heat growing again in his own body, loosening him as it goes. It makes the confessions come easier, smoother, slipping out of him with his quick, excited breath.] I want you so bad. Aomine.
[He even manages a smirk, even if it's a little shaky, a little too bright-eyed, as he leans his damp forehead against Aomine's.]
[ Aomine's heart leaps right up into his throat. Every muscle from his nipples down seizes violently. His dick goes from aching to acutely painful. He thinks, his mind reeling and his thoughts in brief, erotic chaos: is this what Kagami has to deal with every time?
Is this how it always feel for him, when Aomine's the one straddling his lap and fondling his dick? ]
Fuck.
[ He realizes that he's shaking. His shoulders, his hands: shaking, and he doesn't have the desire or the control to stop them. All he wants, all he can want, is Kagami, and if his fingers are rough and hurried, he hopes that Kagami will forgive him. His forehead ends up dropping from Kagami's own and resting on his collarbone. His breath and his words - a continuous fuck fuck fuck - are caught between them and sweat prickles at his temples and gathers over his upper lip. The bottle he'd been using drops to the cushion between his legs and then it's two fingers, three, and he's trying to be careful, he's trying to be gentle, but he's also trying to rub hard against Kagami's insides. He knows where, sure, but it's all so slippery, all so hot, that he can't be sure. ]
Get me out.
[ His words are thick and unsteady. He's not pretending anymore; can't. It's Kagami's fault, but he'll be angry with him later. ]
It's just a button and the--fuck, Kagami.
[ Aomine loses his train of thought, because he just remembered that smirk, and his trembling, and how the stacked muscles that stretch on down from his vantage point flex and loosen. It's all he can do to scissor his fingers apart as he slides them in and out, his other hand holding on to one muscular cheek so hard that there's probably going to be an imprint of it tomorrow morning. ]
Do me, so I can, nngh, damnit, only got two fucking hands -
[ There's a helping of anguished frustration in his gasping; he wishes he could be everywhere, touching everything, and that he can't is almost as painful as the ache in his cock. ]
[It's hard to think-- it's hard to breathe, with the onslaught of sensations racing through his body. Aomine's fingers plunge into him, stroking, fondling, touching him so intimately he feels like his whole body is shaking, and it's nothing like the times he'd tried it on himself. It's electrifying, dizzying, and every hungry thrust adds another hot knot of arousal to Kagami's belly. He'd thought it'd take a while, after that last mindblowing orgasm, but he should've known better: his dick is already swelling again, already at half-mast between them, and the little twinges and jolts of discomfort don't seem to matter at all, not at fucking all.
And then there's Aomine.]
Ah-- fuck, Aomine, you're--
[It's amazing. It's amazing, and humbling, and incredibly sexy. It makes arousal shoot through him, hot and heady, to hear the need in Aomine's voice and feel the shivering under his hands. It's worth it -- it's worth all of it, the humiliation and the beatings and the part where he can't control any of the words that come out of his mouth anymore. It's worth it, just for this, for knowing that he was the one that did this, that made Aomine look like that.]
--so hot. S-shit... I...
[He can't even dream of teasing anymore; all he wants, now, is to give Aomine anything he asks for, anything he wants. There is a warmth in his chest, an affection so strong he feels his throat go tight again, but even that gets drowned out by the acute need. He has to take a moment to gasp for air, and then arch back so he can find the little bottle Aomine dropped, and even that half a second of fumbling is painfully slow.
The pants, with their unlucky button -- he tears them open more than anything. It doesn't matter; they going to be ruined, because he just about upends the bottle of oil over Aomine's dick, tossing it aside after a shake or two so he can slide both of his hands down the hot, slick, hard length of him. And Kagami's touched him dozens of times, stroked him and sucked him off and felt every familiar ridge and bump, but it's different, this time--
That's going inside me.
The thought catches in his breath, makes him shiver and ache with it. He wants it; he wants to feel it so badly, enough that he can almost ignore the faint anxious feeling in the back of his throat.
I'm gonna take that whole thing--
He breathes in, sharp and sudden, and rises up on his knees. It feels like every muscle in his body is trying to flex, tighten in excitement, and he has to work at it, has to force himself to relax, even just a little, because otherwise there's no way he can...
One of his hands clutches at Aomine's shoulder; the other is trying to line his dick up with his own asshole, which is difficult in his haste, with his unsteady, slick hands, when he can't even see-- And he groans when he thinks about that, and fuck, fuck if hes not almost all the way hard now, fuck if he doesn't look at Aomine and work to relax his abs and thighs.]
Look at me, [he murmurs, the grip on Aomine's shoulder tightening for a second. Almost, almost, they're almost...]
[ It seems as though, in the blink of an eye, Aomine has gone from leading Kagami along to desperately trying to keep up. There's too much to see, too much to do, too much to feel, and he can only clutch at Kagami's hip and his ass and try to catch sight of every beautiful, erotic inch of him: his expression, tightening and loosening, flushed, his lips shaking, his eyes hot; the clutch and shiver in his biceps, or along his chest, or in his belly, everything visible under tight, sweat-slick skin; and then there, down there, where they're coming together, and Aomine's panting from the sight, his noises tangling in his throat.
He's never wanted to fuck anyone as badly as he wants to fuck Kagami now.
He's never wanted anyone, period, the way that he wants Kagami.
It's a miracle that he can move his hands down and support the backs of Kagami's thighs. Likewise, it's a miracle that he can keep his hands steady enough to pull and lift slightly, guiding Kagami's body more fully over and onto the tip of his dick. One unexpected jostle, or a moment of surprise turbulence, and he knows they'd both go tumbling down, they're shaking that much.
But they don't. They're steady. His hands are trembling, but his grip is strong, and when Kagami asks, he looks up, unable and unwilling to refuse. He's panting, his lips wet, and his eyes are hot and stinging in the corners, and between one breath and the next he's biting at his lower lip, hard, because Kagami is...they're - ]
Oh, fuck.
[ It's hot. It's so hot. ]
Fuuuuck, Ka...gami...!
[ The gradual lowering is both too slow and too fast. Kagami's breathtakingly tight asshole stretches around his tip, grinds across and down his head, and then, bit by searing bit, pushes down along his shaft, pulling at super-sensitive skin and veins. It's not the first time for him, and yet it is the first time, and there's too much showing on his face, flashes of surprise and vulnerability, a gasp, a groan, and how quickly he has to blink the sweat and wetness out of his eyes. There's too much of every other feeling, too, the ones that clutch tight around his heart and never seem to let go.
It seems like such a weird time to be thinking about them, especially when his heart is racing a mile a minute and every thought is swimming through his head. But here they are, they've got him, and Aomine's arms are around Kagami all at once, clutching at his shoulders, his nails digging into his back, bringing them flush together, so close that Kagami's now sitting fully on his lap. He says his name, over and over again:
Kagami.
Kagami.
Kagami -
It's a little like a prayer, and a lot like a moan, and fuck, fuck that was probably too fast, he's all the way in, and so Aomine belatedly runs his hands down Kagami's back, trying to soothe him because he knows just how much it can be. ]
S...sorry - [ He croaks out, trying to get control of himself again, somehow. ] You...okay?
[He can't breathe. It's just -- too much -- too much of everything; Aomine feels huge inside him, and searing hot, stretching him, filling him, so tight Kagami thinks it's impossible. The hands on his body help: Aomine's hands, familiar and warm and strong. The face he makes, his voice, the desperate sound of Kagami's name in his mouth -- that helps more. It pulls him in, focuses him, because no matter what, no matter how, no matter how weak his knees are feeling, he wants to see it, wants to hear him, feel him, everything, everything--
He can't stop trembling and his face is wet. Despite his best efforts, his eyes are shut tight as he braces himself against Aomine, feeling the rumble in his voice when he speaks. It takes him two tries to form words himself, his fingers digging into Aomine's shoulders, so hard it must be painful.]
G-give me--
[He breathes in, then makes the gargantuan effort to open his eyes, to look at Aomine, and oh fuck, fuck, he looks the way Kagami feels, desperate and wild, and Kagami can't help it if--
Give me a moment, is what he'd wanted to say, but not anymore. What he suddenly wants -- what he wants now is to grit his teeth, and reach up to wipe his stupid tears on his forearm, before bracing himself on Aomine's shoulders and rolling his hips. Just a little bit, just a small movement; and still, immediately electricity travels down his spine, seizes his limbs. Again, he does it; and again, and again after that, and it's a stretch, and it's a lot, but...]
Ha... aaah, Ao-- [But he can't stop. He can feel it, feel him every time he moves, the bumps and ridges of his dick dragging against his sensitive insides, real, familiar and yet so foreign, so hot and sexy and overwhelming he can't stand it, he just can't.]
Fuck, I-- Aomine,
[They end up close again, somehow, their foreheads together, until he can feel Aomine's breath on his face. Kagami's own breath comes in spurts, in gasps, and he can tell there are words tumbling out of his mouth but he doesn't know which ones they are.]
I--
I love you, you stupid idiot.
[It takes him a moment, to realize.
It slips out just like that. All those times he's tried to hold it in, close in his heart, all those moments earlier he's swallowed it back down, and yet, here, now, it just...
He just...
His eyes fly open; shock all but drains his face of blood. Half a moment later, he slaps his hand over Aomine's mouth -- not his own, it's too late for that, but...]
Don't--
[Don't say anything, he wants to tell him, half-panicked, unable to stand the thought of Aomine feeling caught, trapped somehow by this confession he didn't ask for.]
You don't-- have to... [His voice is rough; he tries not to shake, tries not to stare, tries to-- fuck, he has to--
His sharp intake of breath accompanies his abs flexing as he arches backwards, every muscle he has at his disposal tightening deliberately around Aomine. His thighs go hard again, and he lifts himself and then slams back down, riding him, the burn and sharp sting in his chest and the acute, dizzying pleasure all blending together, molding into one feeling, until he's gasping, shaking, whimpering with it, unable to look at Aomine and unable to look away.
He knows, Kagami thinks, faintly, as if outside of himself, and feels the thought seep into his veins like lava, pulsing through him, making his dick throb and his chest ache. He knows now.
[ He'd still had some sliver of control. He'd still be hanging on. Kagami had moved and he hadn't just completely lost it immediately. He'd been able to keep mainly still as Kagami had started to lift and drop in that maddenign pattern, slowly but surely getting used to the weight and length of him - I'm inside, I'm inside Kagami - while his face had caused Aomine's chest to ache like someone had stuck a dagger through his ribs. He'd wanted to wipe his tears away; he'd had to hold on to him instead, because he felt that if he hadn't, the two of them would've toppled right the fuck over. Aomine's job has become just keeping them both upright, somehow, bracing his feet against the floor of the car and keeping his shoulders plastered to the seat while he helps Kagami keep his balance.
He'd thought for a moment that he could manage that much. He had some tiny amount of control. He could still handle this. He might have even caught his breath just a tiny bit and been able to kiss him like he wanted to, just kiss until his eyes were dry again and nothing hurt.
Then Kagami had to...
He--
You son of a bitch. You piece of shit. ] Kuhh, anh, nnn--
NNNN!!
[ Fuck, oh fuck, he's so heavy. They'll both be bruised by tomorrow, the force of it causing Aomine to rock back against the seat. It's painful, and then it's wonderful, and his dick is being ground through a crucible that's really just Kagami, only Kagami, so shockingly tight and so hot that he can't help but let his fevered mind think he's being burned. Aomine's hands grip with strength enough to leave a bruise there, too, there on Kagami's hip and on one cheek. He can't let go, though he almost wants to, if only to get the fucker's hand off his mouth. His gasping for breath, his eyes flashing shut, then open, then shut again, and the corners of them are hot and his cheekbones are wet.
You piece of shit. Let me, let me...!
Kagami-!!
Aomine bites him. He bites him right in the soft part of his palm and wrenches his head away. He pants wildly for breath, his lungs on fire, and then his arms are up, up around Kagami's waist, his shoulders, dragging him down into an iron embrace that can't be argued with. ]
Don't...you fucking...dare!
[ His chest hurts. His dick hurts. He feels like he's going to break in half. His hands are on Kagami's face, in his hair; he's got his teeth bared and his heart spilling out and he wasn't even the one that got fucked up with truth drugs. ]
Don't say that and then act like I'm not allowed to say it, too! You ass!
[ Fuck, that reminds him, and he groans, a righteous throb resonating out from his cock. He shakes, all the way down to his bones, almost, and kisses him like he wanted to, his heart on Kagami's lips now instead. ]
I love you.
I love you so fucking much.
[ So much that, sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with it, or how to act, or how to say it the way that he wants to. It's why he's held it in for so long; not just because he does that with nearly every feeling he has, but because he wants it to be right. He's screwed up so many times before with the people he cared about. He wouldn't let himself screw up with this. He'd been thinking, trying to put it together just right--
But Kagami did what Kagami does best: dive in like an idiot, his feelings so big and so loud that Aomine can't ignore them, can't do anything else other than pant against his lips and, because he fucking deserves it, thrusts up as hard as he can, putting strength enough in it to bounce him in his lap. ]
I-- [He gets only that far in trying to explain himself, his face flooding with red, before Aomine's there, right there, kissing him like their lives depended on it.
Maybe they do. Kagami can taste salt on Aomine's lips, and god, it's both of them crying, isn't it, and the understanding makes something like a sob work its way up his throat. His hand stings where the bastard bit him, but it's nothing, none of that has ever meant anything, not when he needs to press his hands into Aomine's hair and cradle him just as close.
He's pretty sure he can hear his heart break the moment Aomine says it. It's a sharp, painful sort of happiness, and he can feel it spread through his body, making his knees just a little weak, making his eyes burn again. The shaky, wet breath he draws is painful, and his heart hammering in his chest is painful, and even the throbbing of his dick is a little painful, because how much, how long has it taken to come to this, and now it's his, theirs.
There's no more running, now.
That was the worst confession ever, he'll realize later with some degree of rue. Right now none of that is important at all: all that matters is Aomine, Aomine's closeness, Aomine's tears on his lips and Aomine's big, hot, hard dick inside him, and when he thrusts inside Kagami like that, all the way in, hitting something that makes Kagami's eyes go wide as sparks explode up his spine, he's--]
Ao-- mmmh, ah, I can't--! [He can't take this, he can't, except that he can, except that as soon as he gets his bearings he's shifting forward to get more weight onto his knees (moaning even with that much, because just feeling him shift inside is enough), and cradling Aomine's face in shaking hands, and demanding, breathlessly,] Again.
[Again, again, because he needs that shivery, spine-tingling pleasure, because he'll meet it this time, pulling and pushing, just like they always do, making it better each time--]
[ Kagami doesn't have to ask. Kagami doesn't have to ask for anything, because Aomine would give him anything, but as he's just not realizing, it's nice to hear it.
They'd been so fucking bad about this so far. Never saying shit, keeping secrets, telling lies. He's guilty of it, he knows that he is, but it had just been so hard and so strange and so new. He didn't know what to do with all the shit he felt, not how to deal with it and sure as hell not how to show it. Now that they're like this, bodies locked and sweat-slick, panting against each other's lips, it's a million times more simple.
He can just say it. He can promise, with his hands and his moans. It won't be this easy later, so Aomine savors it, groaning against Kagami's neck and feeling like he could die here and be happy. ] Okay.
Okay--
[ Up, up hard, as hard as he can, and Kagami comes down to meet him and stars explode behind his eyelids. He gasps, every breath lost, and has to claw his way back up to thrust again, and again, and again, his grip on Kagami's hips like iron despite how hard he'd tried, at the start of this, to be gentle. There will be bruises, maybe for days, but unlike the rest, these will be his, they'll be special. He can kiss them later and grin at him when he complains.
I love him, Aomine whispers in his head. I love him-- ]
Ka...gami...!
[ It was only a matter of time. He'd waited too long. He doesn't regret it, except in that moment when every muscle seizes up and he comes so explosively that he could swear, afterward, when he fell back against the seat, that his balls hurt afterward.
Didn't matter. He kept moving his hips for as long as he could, trying to make it last, trying to make it good, his mouth suddenly on Kagami's chest thanks to the new angle, his tongue and his teeth pulling and lashing at his upright nipples. ]
[Aomine's -- both of their -- pace is brutal, punishing, wonderful, and for a few moments Kagami's entire world narrows only to this: the heat of Aomine's body under him, the iron, unforgiving grip of his hands, the sounds they both make as Aomine slams into him. It's so good Kagami can't breathe, can't think, is nearly going to lose his mind--
He does lose his mind a little bit when Aomine comes. It's... indescribable, the feeling of it. There is the inevitable heat and the sheer lewdness, and then, right after -- there's the way Aomine looks just then, panting, disheveled, his eyes dark and his bangs in his face. He's sinking back into the cushions, and Kagami groans, plaintive, and can't help the thought that comes again: He's beautiful.
And then, He's mine.
He probably whispers both of them, because if he's had any self-control at the start, it's fully evaporated now. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all because he, too, is panting and groaning, his free hand sliding between their bodies to pump roughly at his own straining dick. The other is in Aomine's hair, clutching him close desperately for that onslaught on Kagami's sensitive, rock-hard nipples, and this really isn't gonna take long now--
And it doesn't. He whimpers with it when he comes -- an embarrassing, high sound wrung out of his throat -- and then buries his face in Aomine's damp hair as he shudders through his orgasm. Every muscle in his body contracts, squeezing Aomine as if he means to milk every last drop of come out of him, too, just then, as an afterthought. After, it takes a moment before he remembers to breathe, and a moment longer before he can start to relax, finally, pleasant heaviness settling into his limbs.
He knows, distantly, that they're a mess. He's going to be so sore, Aomine's pants are destroyed, and the harsh world outside the limo is waiting for the both of them, probably sooner rather than later. None of that matters right that moment, when he's melting into a post-orgasmic puddle, his cheek braced against Aomine's head.]
Hey, [is what he'll mumble, eventually, and he can no longer tell whether it's the drugs talking,] when did you know?
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And then Aomine speaks and Kagami swears he can feel his head swim, just for a millisecond.
It's the sound of Aomine's voice that cinches it. Hearing the roughness in it, knowing that it's because of him, because of the way Aomine'd swallowed down his dick -- that's what pushes him over the edge, finally, inevitably. His hips press and jerk against Aomine's hold on them, bucking up without his meaning to, because his release hits him with a force that's nothing short of overwhelming. He doesn't know what kinds of noises he's making; he just knows that he must be, because the sound of his own muffled voice is ringing in his ears, all around them. His head goes back, his teeth biting into his bottom lip and his eyes squeezed shut, even though he wants, so badly, to see it, to watch it happen--
There is a lot. He can feel it; the orgasm rips through his body with the force of a hurricane, almost lifting him off of the seat, sending every nerve aflame. The moment he has his breath back he's gasping, straightening, opening his eyes so he can see. And god, it's so dirty, so lewd and obscene that the warmth and pressure in his chest seems entirely out of place. The words that hover at the tip of his tongue...
He can't tell Aomine. Not now, not like this, not when he's just come on that handsome face, when Aomine's sucked his dick and then asked him for it. Not even if he's the most beautiful person Kagami's ever seen. Not yet.]
Fuck, [is what he breathes instead, in a voice that doesn't quite sound like his own.] Fuck, Aomine, that--
So dirty...
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There's some in his hair, when it's over. There's some sliding slowly down his neck. There's probably a little on his collar, and there's certainly plenty on his lips and one cheek.
Warm. ]
Haaaa, Kagami.
[ He opens his eyes. He licks his lips, and tastes salt and loam. ]
You came a ton.
[ He leans back on his heels, looks up, and feels loose and tight at the same time. He simmers. That's a good word for it; he simmers, restless but moving very little, and only with purpose. He pulls off a glove and touches his fingers to his face. He licks those, too, to get a little more of the flavor.
He looks at Kagami, his lids slightly lowered, as if he's thinking of something at the same time. ]
Now I'm going to fuck you.
[ There's a handkerchief in the front pocket of his suit jacket. That takes care of the rest of Kagami's come, though there's missed opportunities there, chances to make him clean it, to taste himself--But Aomine already knows he can't wait that long. It's maybe a miracle that he's been able to hold it together this long.
A miracle, or an incredible desire to pull this off.
He pushes off the floor and sits on the seat opposite of Kagami. He keeps his back straight and pulls off his second glove. ]
Come here.
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Maybe it's the rawness and certainty in Aomine's voice, the way he sounds like sex personified. Maybe it's the way he looks in his slim cut suit, all long and sharp and impossibly handsome. Or maybe, just maybe, it's just that Kagami's never not wanting him, not even when he's just gotten off.
Yes, he thinks, his eyes on Aomine hooded with exhaustion but also bright with longing. Yes.
The first thing he does, though, is bend down and undo the fastenings on his motorcycle boots. These get pulled off, along with he socks. It's only after that, once he's barefoot, that he makes his way over to Aomine, with the soft carpet under his toes. His entire body feels overheated, primed for touch, ready to please. His shirt has slipped back down over his chest, but his black jeans hang low on his hips, as do his boxers. It takes only another two seconds to remove both, though he feels oddly naked without them, worse than if he'd been completely nude.
It just makes him all the more sensitive when he slides himself onto the seat, straddling Aomine's lap. He can feel the fine fabric of Aomine's pants all too keenly against his bare thighs; can feel, too, the warmth of the hard, lean body underneath.
His hands cradle Aomine's head so Kagami can lean in and kiss him properly, chasing the taste of himself and shivering, just a little, with the thought.]
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Not a single fucking soul.
Aomine can't quite help it that he loses it a little right then, loses that somewhat-strong hold he has on his current persona. It's not that he wants to fuck him any less, or any less hard, but his chest goes hot and tight, and his dick thrums, and his balls ache, and he can't stop himself from looking at him. He can't stop his eyes from warming and softening, can't stop his hands from coming up to rest on Kagami's hard, lean hips, and fuck, fuck he's so lewd, and so beautiful, and for a moment he's just biting his lower lip and holding on to this treasure of his that he suddenly realizes he's about to make his all over again, in an infinitely erotic way.
He has to take a little time before he does anything. He has to breathe. ]
Kagami...
[ He whispers the name against his lips and is fond and quiet, like a secret.
Then he has to hurry forward, because if he doesn't, he'll never make it at all, and the bare fingers that slide up the backs of Kagami's thighs are slick and hot, because he didn't waste time just with watching and like all things in Tanagura, this private space is well-prepared. The gel heats as his fingertips glide over Kagami's skin, sparking with warmth and a spiced smell. He cups the undersides of his asscheeks, massaging the soft dip in his otherwise muscular body and licks at Kagami's lower lip. ]
I can't wait.
[ That's all he says. That's all he can say.
He rolls his knuckles against Kagami's asshole, shocked by how hot he feels, and guides his middle finger inside. His hands are steady, unlike his heart, which feels like it will rock right out of his chest. ]
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[He can feel goosebumps materialising in the trail of Aomine's fingers on his skin, their slick heat, the promise that they whisper. His hands tighten in Aomine's hair, his breath stuttering as he prepares for it, waits for it--
And there it is, the pressure, the intrusion into his body. Everything he feels is so sharp and so clear, so different from the haze of pleasure inside the monster's cave. He can feel his body resist, still, his muscles clenching around the digit because he's not as used to this as he'd like to be; still, even the discomfort can't shake the wave of arousal that washes through him, the sheer horniness of knowing what Aomine's doing, what he's about to do to Kagami and with him.
He has to bite his lip, and hiss, and drop his face onto Aomine's shoulder again to hide the shocked, caught, needy expression he's sporting. This -- it feels like the most vulnerable he's ever been, and for the first time he can appreciate just what it meant for Aomine to give this to him, all those months ago. He feels open, exposed, there for the taking, but it's fine, it's fine, because it's Aomine, because they're each other's, because nothing bad could happen to him here.
His throat tightens. He might cry. He might actually cry. There is nothing about this he doesn't want desperately, but even the desire is so sharp and acute in his belly he can't quite take it. He doesn't know what to do with himself, with this longing that runs through him, with all the things he feels and knows and is struggling so hard not to say to Aomine.]
I want--
[He can feel his voice breaking a little and he has to stop and breathe out. His hands slide down the front of Aomine's smooth dress shirt, fingers tangling in the cool fabric of his tie before they find their way lower, to where his dick is still straining against the confines of his pants.]
I want it. [He forces himself to look up again as the words stumble out, honest and a little unsteady, and he presses his palm against the rock-hard ridge he feels under the layers of fabric. He massages Aomine's dick -- heavy, deliberate, unhurried petting, as he feels the heat growing again in his own body, loosening him as it goes. It makes the confessions come easier, smoother, slipping out of him with his quick, excited breath.] I want you so bad. Aomine.
[He even manages a smirk, even if it's a little shaky, a little too bright-eyed, as he leans his damp forehead against Aomine's.]
Hurry up.
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Is this how it always feel for him, when Aomine's the one straddling his lap and fondling his dick? ]
Fuck.
[ He realizes that he's shaking. His shoulders, his hands: shaking, and he doesn't have the desire or the control to stop them. All he wants, all he can want, is Kagami, and if his fingers are rough and hurried, he hopes that Kagami will forgive him. His forehead ends up dropping from Kagami's own and resting on his collarbone. His breath and his words - a continuous fuck fuck fuck - are caught between them and sweat prickles at his temples and gathers over his upper lip. The bottle he'd been using drops to the cushion between his legs and then it's two fingers, three, and he's trying to be careful, he's trying to be gentle, but he's also trying to rub hard against Kagami's insides. He knows where, sure, but it's all so slippery, all so hot, that he can't be sure. ]
Get me out.
[ His words are thick and unsteady. He's not pretending anymore; can't. It's Kagami's fault, but he'll be angry with him later. ]
It's just a button and the--fuck, Kagami.
[ Aomine loses his train of thought, because he just remembered that smirk, and his trembling, and how the stacked muscles that stretch on down from his vantage point flex and loosen. It's all he can do to scissor his fingers apart as he slides them in and out, his other hand holding on to one muscular cheek so hard that there's probably going to be an imprint of it tomorrow morning. ]
Do me, so I can, nngh, damnit, only got two fucking hands -
[ There's a helping of anguished frustration in his gasping; he wishes he could be everywhere, touching everything, and that he can't is almost as painful as the ache in his cock. ]
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And then there's Aomine.]
Ah-- fuck, Aomine, you're--
[It's amazing. It's amazing, and humbling, and incredibly sexy. It makes arousal shoot through him, hot and heady, to hear the need in Aomine's voice and feel the shivering under his hands. It's worth it -- it's worth all of it, the humiliation and the beatings and the part where he can't control any of the words that come out of his mouth anymore. It's worth it, just for this, for knowing that he was the one that did this, that made Aomine look like that.]
--so hot. S-shit... I...
[He can't even dream of teasing anymore; all he wants, now, is to give Aomine anything he asks for, anything he wants. There is a warmth in his chest, an affection so strong he feels his throat go tight again, but even that gets drowned out by the acute need. He has to take a moment to gasp for air, and then arch back so he can find the little bottle Aomine dropped, and even that half a second of fumbling is painfully slow.
The pants, with their unlucky button -- he tears them open more than anything. It doesn't matter; they going to be ruined, because he just about upends the bottle of oil over Aomine's dick, tossing it aside after a shake or two so he can slide both of his hands down the hot, slick, hard length of him. And Kagami's touched him dozens of times, stroked him and sucked him off and felt every familiar ridge and bump, but it's different, this time--
That's going inside me.
The thought catches in his breath, makes him shiver and ache with it. He wants it; he wants to feel it so badly, enough that he can almost ignore the faint anxious feeling in the back of his throat.
I'm gonna take that whole thing--
He breathes in, sharp and sudden, and rises up on his knees. It feels like every muscle in his body is trying to flex, tighten in excitement, and he has to work at it, has to force himself to relax, even just a little, because otherwise there's no way he can...
One of his hands clutches at Aomine's shoulder; the other is trying to line his dick up with his own asshole, which is difficult in his haste, with his unsteady, slick hands, when he can't even see-- And he groans when he thinks about that, and fuck, fuck if hes not almost all the way hard now, fuck if he doesn't look at Aomine and work to relax his abs and thighs.]
Look at me, [he murmurs, the grip on Aomine's shoulder tightening for a second. Almost, almost, they're almost...]
Wanna see your face.
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He's never wanted to fuck anyone as badly as he wants to fuck Kagami now.
He's never wanted anyone, period, the way that he wants Kagami.
It's a miracle that he can move his hands down and support the backs of Kagami's thighs. Likewise, it's a miracle that he can keep his hands steady enough to pull and lift slightly, guiding Kagami's body more fully over and onto the tip of his dick. One unexpected jostle, or a moment of surprise turbulence, and he knows they'd both go tumbling down, they're shaking that much.
But they don't. They're steady. His hands are trembling, but his grip is strong, and when Kagami asks, he looks up, unable and unwilling to refuse. He's panting, his lips wet, and his eyes are hot and stinging in the corners, and between one breath and the next he's biting at his lower lip, hard, because Kagami is...they're - ]
Oh, fuck.
[ It's hot. It's so hot. ]
Fuuuuck, Ka...gami...!
[ The gradual lowering is both too slow and too fast. Kagami's breathtakingly tight asshole stretches around his tip, grinds across and down his head, and then, bit by searing bit, pushes down along his shaft, pulling at super-sensitive skin and veins. It's not the first time for him, and yet it is the first time, and there's too much showing on his face, flashes of surprise and vulnerability, a gasp, a groan, and how quickly he has to blink the sweat and wetness out of his eyes. There's too much of every other feeling, too, the ones that clutch tight around his heart and never seem to let go.
It seems like such a weird time to be thinking about them, especially when his heart is racing a mile a minute and every thought is swimming through his head. But here they are, they've got him, and Aomine's arms are around Kagami all at once, clutching at his shoulders, his nails digging into his back, bringing them flush together, so close that Kagami's now sitting fully on his lap. He says his name, over and over again:
Kagami.
Kagami.
Kagami -
It's a little like a prayer, and a lot like a moan, and fuck, fuck that was probably too fast, he's all the way in, and so Aomine belatedly runs his hands down Kagami's back, trying to soothe him because he knows just how much it can be. ]
S...sorry - [ He croaks out, trying to get control of himself again, somehow. ] You...okay?
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He can't stop trembling and his face is wet. Despite his best efforts, his eyes are shut tight as he braces himself against Aomine, feeling the rumble in his voice when he speaks. It takes him two tries to form words himself, his fingers digging into Aomine's shoulders, so hard it must be painful.]
G-give me--
[He breathes in, then makes the gargantuan effort to open his eyes, to look at Aomine, and oh fuck, fuck, he looks the way Kagami feels, desperate and wild, and Kagami can't help it if--
Give me a moment, is what he'd wanted to say, but not anymore. What he suddenly wants -- what he wants now is to grit his teeth, and reach up to wipe his stupid tears on his forearm, before bracing himself on Aomine's shoulders and rolling his hips. Just a little bit, just a small movement; and still, immediately electricity travels down his spine, seizes his limbs. Again, he does it; and again, and again after that, and it's a stretch, and it's a lot, but...]
Ha... aaah, Ao-- [But he can't stop. He can feel it, feel him every time he moves, the bumps and ridges of his dick dragging against his sensitive insides, real, familiar and yet so foreign, so hot and sexy and overwhelming he can't stand it, he just can't.]
Fuck, I-- Aomine,
[They end up close again, somehow, their foreheads together, until he can feel Aomine's breath on his face. Kagami's own breath comes in spurts, in gasps, and he can tell there are words tumbling out of his mouth but he doesn't know which ones they are.]
I--
I love you, you stupid idiot.
[It takes him a moment, to realize.
It slips out just like that. All those times he's tried to hold it in, close in his heart, all those moments earlier he's swallowed it back down, and yet, here, now, it just...
He just...
His eyes fly open; shock all but drains his face of blood. Half a moment later, he slaps his hand over Aomine's mouth -- not his own, it's too late for that, but...]
Don't--
[Don't say anything, he wants to tell him, half-panicked, unable to stand the thought of Aomine feeling caught, trapped somehow by this confession he didn't ask for.]
You don't-- have to... [His voice is rough; he tries not to shake, tries not to stare, tries to-- fuck, he has to--
His sharp intake of breath accompanies his abs flexing as he arches backwards, every muscle he has at his disposal tightening deliberately around Aomine. His thighs go hard again, and he lifts himself and then slams back down, riding him, the burn and sharp sting in his chest and the acute, dizzying pleasure all blending together, molding into one feeling, until he's gasping, shaking, whimpering with it, unable to look at Aomine and unable to look away.
He knows, Kagami thinks, faintly, as if outside of himself, and feels the thought seep into his veins like lava, pulsing through him, making his dick throb and his chest ache. He knows now.
It's going to ruin him, that much is obvious.]
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[ Not fair. Not fair.
That's not fucking fair. ]
Ff, nngh-! Fuhkk!!
[ He'd still had some sliver of control. He'd still be hanging on. Kagami had moved and he hadn't just completely lost it immediately. He'd been able to keep mainly still as Kagami had started to lift and drop in that maddenign pattern, slowly but surely getting used to the weight and length of him - I'm inside, I'm inside Kagami - while his face had caused Aomine's chest to ache like someone had stuck a dagger through his ribs. He'd wanted to wipe his tears away; he'd had to hold on to him instead, because he felt that if he hadn't, the two of them would've toppled right the fuck over. Aomine's job has become just keeping them both upright, somehow, bracing his feet against the floor of the car and keeping his shoulders plastered to the seat while he helps Kagami keep his balance.
He'd thought for a moment that he could manage that much. He had some tiny amount of control. He could still handle this. He might have even caught his breath just a tiny bit and been able to kiss him like he wanted to, just kiss until his eyes were dry again and nothing hurt.
Then Kagami had to...
He--
You son of a bitch. You piece of shit. ] Kuhh, anh, nnn--
NNNN!!
[ Fuck, oh fuck, he's so heavy. They'll both be bruised by tomorrow, the force of it causing Aomine to rock back against the seat. It's painful, and then it's wonderful, and his dick is being ground through a crucible that's really just Kagami, only Kagami, so shockingly tight and so hot that he can't help but let his fevered mind think he's being burned. Aomine's hands grip with strength enough to leave a bruise there, too, there on Kagami's hip and on one cheek. He can't let go, though he almost wants to, if only to get the fucker's hand off his mouth. His gasping for breath, his eyes flashing shut, then open, then shut again, and the corners of them are hot and his cheekbones are wet.
You piece of shit. Let me, let me...!
Kagami-!!
Aomine bites him. He bites him right in the soft part of his palm and wrenches his head away. He pants wildly for breath, his lungs on fire, and then his arms are up, up around Kagami's waist, his shoulders, dragging him down into an iron embrace that can't be argued with. ]
Don't...you fucking...dare!
[ His chest hurts. His dick hurts. He feels like he's going to break in half. His hands are on Kagami's face, in his hair; he's got his teeth bared and his heart spilling out and he wasn't even the one that got fucked up with truth drugs. ]
Don't say that and then act like I'm not allowed to say it, too! You ass!
[ Fuck, that reminds him, and he groans, a righteous throb resonating out from his cock. He shakes, all the way down to his bones, almost, and kisses him like he wanted to, his heart on Kagami's lips now instead. ]
I love you.
I love you so fucking much.
[ So much that, sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with it, or how to act, or how to say it the way that he wants to. It's why he's held it in for so long; not just because he does that with nearly every feeling he has, but because he wants it to be right. He's screwed up so many times before with the people he cared about. He wouldn't let himself screw up with this. He'd been thinking, trying to put it together just right--
But Kagami did what Kagami does best: dive in like an idiot, his feelings so big and so loud that Aomine can't ignore them, can't do anything else other than pant against his lips and, because he fucking deserves it, thrusts up as hard as he can, putting strength enough in it to bounce him in his lap. ]
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Maybe they do. Kagami can taste salt on Aomine's lips, and god, it's both of them crying, isn't it, and the understanding makes something like a sob work its way up his throat. His hand stings where the bastard bit him, but it's nothing, none of that has ever meant anything, not when he needs to press his hands into Aomine's hair and cradle him just as close.
He's pretty sure he can hear his heart break the moment Aomine says it. It's a sharp, painful sort of happiness, and he can feel it spread through his body, making his knees just a little weak, making his eyes burn again. The shaky, wet breath he draws is painful, and his heart hammering in his chest is painful, and even the throbbing of his dick is a little painful, because how much, how long has it taken to come to this, and now it's his, theirs.
There's no more running, now.
That was the worst confession ever, he'll realize later with some degree of rue. Right now none of that is important at all: all that matters is Aomine, Aomine's closeness, Aomine's tears on his lips and Aomine's big, hot, hard dick inside him, and when he thrusts inside Kagami like that, all the way in, hitting something that makes Kagami's eyes go wide as sparks explode up his spine, he's--]
Ao-- mmmh, ah, I can't--! [He can't take this, he can't, except that he can, except that as soon as he gets his bearings he's shifting forward to get more weight onto his knees (moaning even with that much, because just feeling him shift inside is enough), and cradling Aomine's face in shaking hands, and demanding, breathlessly,] Again.
[Again, again, because he needs that shivery, spine-tingling pleasure, because he'll meet it this time, pulling and pushing, just like they always do, making it better each time--]
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They'd been so fucking bad about this so far. Never saying shit, keeping secrets, telling lies. He's guilty of it, he knows that he is, but it had just been so hard and so strange and so new. He didn't know what to do with all the shit he felt, not how to deal with it and sure as hell not how to show it. Now that they're like this, bodies locked and sweat-slick, panting against each other's lips, it's a million times more simple.
He can just say it. He can promise, with his hands and his moans. It won't be this easy later, so Aomine savors it, groaning against Kagami's neck and feeling like he could die here and be happy. ] Okay.
Okay--
[ Up, up hard, as hard as he can, and Kagami comes down to meet him and stars explode behind his eyelids. He gasps, every breath lost, and has to claw his way back up to thrust again, and again, and again, his grip on Kagami's hips like iron despite how hard he'd tried, at the start of this, to be gentle. There will be bruises, maybe for days, but unlike the rest, these will be his, they'll be special. He can kiss them later and grin at him when he complains.
I love him, Aomine whispers in his head. I love him-- ]
Ka...gami...!
[ It was only a matter of time. He'd waited too long. He doesn't regret it, except in that moment when every muscle seizes up and he comes so explosively that he could swear, afterward, when he fell back against the seat, that his balls hurt afterward.
Didn't matter. He kept moving his hips for as long as he could, trying to make it last, trying to make it good, his mouth suddenly on Kagami's chest thanks to the new angle, his tongue and his teeth pulling and lashing at his upright nipples. ]
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He does lose his mind a little bit when Aomine comes. It's... indescribable, the feeling of it. There is the inevitable heat and the sheer lewdness, and then, right after -- there's the way Aomine looks just then, panting, disheveled, his eyes dark and his bangs in his face. He's sinking back into the cushions, and Kagami groans, plaintive, and can't help the thought that comes again: He's beautiful.
And then, He's mine.
He probably whispers both of them, because if he's had any self-control at the start, it's fully evaporated now. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all because he, too, is panting and groaning, his free hand sliding between their bodies to pump roughly at his own straining dick. The other is in Aomine's hair, clutching him close desperately for that onslaught on Kagami's sensitive, rock-hard nipples, and this really isn't gonna take long now--
And it doesn't. He whimpers with it when he comes -- an embarrassing, high sound wrung out of his throat -- and then buries his face in Aomine's damp hair as he shudders through his orgasm. Every muscle in his body contracts, squeezing Aomine as if he means to milk every last drop of come out of him, too, just then, as an afterthought. After, it takes a moment before he remembers to breathe, and a moment longer before he can start to relax, finally, pleasant heaviness settling into his limbs.
He knows, distantly, that they're a mess. He's going to be so sore, Aomine's pants are destroyed, and the harsh world outside the limo is waiting for the both of them, probably sooner rather than later. None of that matters right that moment, when he's melting into a post-orgasmic puddle, his cheek braced against Aomine's head.]
Hey, [is what he'll mumble, eventually, and he can no longer tell whether it's the drugs talking,] when did you know?