Based on the following prompt from tumblr: you once mentioned there wasn't any fanfic/dj where misaki was the one seducing saru into doing him so... can i request that? :D (you also said it didn't count if it was written by you, but there has to be a first right..)
It started off as one of those days.
'Those days' being code for a day when Yata's nerves were on edge; just about everything irritated him, and he couldn't help snapping at people for things that wouldn't have bothered him otherwise. The fact that he knew the reason actually made it worse - he didn't like the reason, and thinking about it for any length of time just made his mood that much blacker.
"What the hell, Yata?" Bandou asked him after he'd been on the receiving end a second time, looking a little put-out. "Something crawled up your butt and died this morning, or what?"
Yata glowered at him, slumping back in his seat. "Shut up."
"Or didn't die," Eric added, blandly.
Chitose hmm'd, raising a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Considering who you're dating... maybe it's what's not up your butt that's the problem, hmm?"
That brought him back up out of his slumped pose immediately. "Wh-What the fuck - ?"
"Struck a nerve," Eric commented, sagely, and looked supremely unconcerned when Yata leveled a glare at him. "Problems at home?"
"None of your fucking business!" His face was burning, and it was more because of how close that particular hit was to the mark than anything. Not... problems, exactly. Things were great. Actually, better than great. They did the usual fun things like playing video games and watching TV and just chatting about random whatever stuff, but now it was mixed in with making out and touching and getting off together, so yeah, things were fucking awesome, thank you very much.
When Saruhiko was home, that is.
Unfortunately, the last three days had involved a lot of overtime. A lot. More than usual. Apparently there was some case with some strain that was causing a lot of difficulty - the brief conversations with Saruhiko had not given him a lot of information, outside of the somewhat clipped assurance that it wasn't dangerous, just annoying, and certain useless subordinates couldn't be left alone with it. The first two nights, Saruhiko had come home some time after Yata had gone to bed, and had left before Yata got up in the morning, the only signs that he'd been there at all being the empty plate of leftovers and the damp towel carelessly flung in the sink. Last night, he hadn't even come home at all, sending a very short message some time past midnight saying that he'd be sleeping in a spare dorm room at Scepter 4 headquarters to save time. What interactions they'd had at all had been over the PDA, and frustratingly brief.
Yata didn't exactly begrudge Saruhiko his job - he'd come to terms with it a while back, and it was dead obvious that Scepter 4 was important to his boyfriend, regardless of the way he talked about it sometimes. And it wasn't like three days was really all that long. It should've been no big deal.
But somehow, still, he really missed Saruhiko. He missed talking to him. Missed seeing his face. Missed kissing.
Missed sex. A lot. Way too much. It was pissing him off how much. He wasn't a fucking pervert, goddamnit!
The fact of the matter was that jerking off in the shower was no longer cutting it, though. This morning he'd spent more time than he wanted to admit half-seriously contemplating the idea of sneaking into Scepter 4 and dragging Saruhiko off into a closet or something. Just for, like, ten minutes. The case could spare ten minutes, right?
This is all your fault, you stupid monkey - I was never like this before!
"Huh, talk about ungrateful. We're just trying to help." Chitose leaned his elbow on the bar, with an annoyingly smug little smirk. "If you want any tips, I've had tons of experience getting people 'in the mood', if you know what I mean..."
"Shut up!" Yata glanced around the room quickly, noted that everyone was now watching him, and added, hastily, "I don't need any help with that!"
At least, he didn't think he did. Saruhiko seemed happy enough about doing it whenever Yata brought up the subject, which got a little easier every time he did it. Sometimes, it was even Saruhiko's idea. Once, a month or so back, he'd come home after Yata was in bed, and actually woke him up so they could have sex (well, okay, so he'd woke him up to get some of the covers on his side, and they'd just ended up screwing afterwards, but it still counted).
It had been awesome, too...
Oh my god, stop thinking about it! Three fucking days, you stupid brain! Just three!
The whole situation was frustrating as hell.
"Barking like a chiuhuahua in heat," Eric muttered, not even trying to be quiet about it.
"Shut up! I am not in fucking heat!" Yata threw up his hands, letting out an aggravated noise. "Fucking fine, you bunch of nosy assholes - my stupid boyfriend is working ridiculous overtime, and I haven't even seen him in three days. Are you happy now?"
Eric didn't even look phased. "Nailed it."
His hands clenched into fists, and a little growl escaped through his clenched teeth.
"Yata, calm down," Kamamoto said placatingly, both of his hands out as if he could physically diffuse the situation.
"Three days?" Bandou was actually staring at him over his sunglasses, looking mildly surprised. "Wait... just how often do you guys do it, anyway?"
The question had even more heat flooding to his cheeks - if that was even possible. "Wh-What - ?"
"Twice a day and three times on Sunday?" Chitose leaned further onto the bar counter, still smirking like a complete prick. "You horny dog, you."
Kusanagi's hands came down on the counter, startling all of them out of any further conversation. When they all looked over, he was fixing the entire group with a level gaze. "Outside," he said, voice dangerously low, and glanced over to where Anna was sitting unobtrusively at the other end of the bar, sipping from a glass. "Now."
"Seriously, though!" Bandou trotted over to Yata's right side as they all filed out onto the street. "You're getting it twice a day?" He actually looked upset about it. "Seriously?"
"N-None of your business!" It wasn't twice a day - not even close. Once a day, maybe. Most of the time. "What do you even care?"
"Twice a day!" Bandou stared at him in outrage. "And you're complaining?"
"I'm not complaining!" Was it so bad to miss his boyfriend? It was normal, right? "And shut up, anyway! I'm not having sex twice a day!"
"Ah... Yata..." Kamamoto glanced around awkwardly.
There were a few people on the sidewalk staring now. Yata hunched his shoulders and tugged his hat down, wishing he could sink into the ground and die. "Can we just not talk about this?" he mumbled.
Bandou let out an exaggerated groan. "I'm still single, and Yata's getting it twice a day - there's seriously no justice in this - "
"Oh, hey, I have an idea!" Akagi piped up suddenly, with maybe a little more cheer than necessary. "Let's go see a movie! Sounds fun, right?"
"Good plan," Fujishima agreed, quietly.
Anything to get away from the previous subject. Yata raised his head again with more than a little relief, beaming at Akagi. "Sounds great! There's that new action movie out, right? Let's go see that one!"
"Like a dog with a new toy," Eric murmured.
Yata scowled at him. "What was that?"
The movie ended up not being very good. The main character was a fighter jet pilot who did an emergency landing on an island and ended up having to protect the peaceful locals from the alien invasion. One of said locals turned out to be a conveniently beautiful girl, and that subplot ended in a pretty predictable fashion.
Somehow, he'd forgotten that most adult action movies these days had a sex scene or two. And those scenes never failed to make him thoroughly uncomfortable, even before. Yata shrank down in his seat a bit as little moans and wet kissing noises played out over the speakers, trying not to seem too obvious about it.
On screen, the couple was already descending to the bed in a flurry of kisses, clothing coming open in a smooth way that he now knew from experience did not even come close to how it went in real life. Saruhiko's work outfit was awful. Buttons, buttons, and more buttons - way too easy to tear out when he got impatient. It sounded romantic, to have buttons flying everywhere as you tore your lover's shirt off in a fit of passion, but it made his boyfriend irritable and that tended to sour the mood a little.
Not enough that they didn't end up having sex, but still...
The actor on-screen suddenly moaned out, "Misaki," in a voice that sounded suspiciously familiar.
Yata sat up straight in his seat, skin prickling. "Wh-What the hell...?"
"Quiet!" Bandou hissed at him, eyes riveted to the screen. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"Miyuki-chan," the actor said seductively, this time in a voice that didn't sound anything at all like before, and Yata sank back down, feeling his face burn.
The fuck was wrong with him, seriously?
"Leave it on," the actress was saying now, smiling slyly up at her partner as he went to remove his uniform jacket. "I... like it." She blushed fetchingly. "Something about men in uniform..."
Oh, hell - was that uniform always blue? He hadn't noticed. Yata squirmed in his seat, the heat from his face spreading down over his neck. On screen, the couple was now engaging in some pretty serious making out. The woman flipped their positions suddenly, hair tumbling fetchingly, and straddled the man's waist, smiling coyly down at him in nothing but her underwear. The scene panned across as his hands slid up her hips, showing his unsmiling, glasses-clad face...
Yata sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly. The actor was not wearing glasses.
What the fuck, brain?
That was it - the final straw. Yata stood up, moved his skateboard to the other side of the seat, and started making his way towards the aisle.
"Where are you going?" Dewa asked in an undertone, pulling in his legs so Yata could get by.
"Bathroom," he answered shortly.
Chitose shot him a knowing look. "Someone's frustrated."
"Shut up," Yata muttered back, pushing through to the aisle irritably. He could still hear the sounds from the movie behind him as he left the theater, and it was not improving his mood any.
Worse yet, the movie theater's bathrooms were being renovated. The sign on the door apologetically directed guests to the mall bathrooms just outside the entrance and down the hall.
At least that stupid scene will be over by the time I get back. Yata let out a sharp, aggrieved huff, stepping out of the theater into the mall area. He just needed to splash some water on his face, and then he'd be fine. It wasn't even that big a deal. So he missed his stupid boyfriend - so what? And he'd always hated sex scenes in action movies, anyway - they were a waste of time. Not to mention awkward. Whoever thought up the idea to make them so long was an idiot.
It was early afternoon on a weekday, and the mall wasn't in a busy area, so there wasn't too much traffic. In fact, when Yata turned the corner and pushed through the door into the men's washroom, there was only one other occupant in there, drying his hands.
One other... very familiar occupant.
His first instinct was to shut his eyes and shake his head to clear it. I'm seeing things, right? There was no reason for Saruhiko to be standing there in front of him in a mall bathroom. But, after he'd done his double-take and cleared his head, the image in front of him hadn't changed. "Wh-What are you doing here?" he blurted out.
Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at him, withdrawing his hands and shaking them a bit. "Hello to you too, Misaki." The sound of the hand dryer cut off, leaving them in what seemed like an unnatural silence. "I could ask the same of you, by the way."
Okay, yeah, it was definitely him - no hallucination could be this irritating. Yata frowned back. "We decided to see a movie," he answered, and shrugged, hoping to avoid the rest. "The theater washrooms are out of order."
A little smile tugged up the corner of Saruhiko's mouth. "You left during the sex scene, huh?"
Everyone was a fucking smartass today, it seemed. "An action movie shouldn't have sex scenes, okay?" He quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be working? What are you doing at a mall?"
"I am working - we apprehended that strain in the alleyway just outside." Saruhiko shrugged, as if it was no big thing, but now that he looked closely, Yata could see the remnants of the tension from the past three days in his boyfriend's weary-looking posture. "I just stopped in here to use the washroom - that's allowed, right?"
"Don't be an asshole."
"Mmhm." Saruhiko shut his eyes, smiling to himself just slightly. "Somehow, I just can't help it with you."
It was probably that smile that undid him - that, and three days of no contact. Yata took in a long, slow breath, feeling strangely giddy. An idea was forming in his brain - something he would never have even considered before now. He couldn't believe he was even thinking it now, actually, but hell... "You need to get back in a hurry?"
"Not really." The expression he got with that was mildly quizzical. "Why, do you need me for something?"
"Yeah." He half turned, sliding the lock on the bathroom door into place, and then faced his boyfriend again, letting his eyelids go heavy in what he hoped was a seductive manner. "Yeah. I... need you."
Saruhiko stared at him for a moment, and then both of his eyebrows went up, practically into his forehead. "Seriously?"
Yata could already feel the heat rising on his face, but he wasn't going to back down now. "Y-Yeah." He moved away from the door, keeping his eyes trained on Saruhiko's face as he approached, with a kind of desperate determination. "Seriously."
His boyfriend didn't even move, eyeing him doubtfully. "Misaki, this is a public washroom - do you have any idea how many germs there probably are?"
He didn't make any attempt to pull away when Yata's hands fisted in the front of his jacket, despite his words, and that seriously just added fuel to the fire. "I dunno, probably about the same amount of germs we spread having sex all the time."
Saruhiko frowned critically at him. "There are probably more than a hundred people who have used this bathroom just today, for a dozen different disgusting possible reasons," he responded, flatly. "It doesn't even compare."
This was a stupid conversation. "For fuck's sake, who cares?" He'd just embarrassed himself thoroughly by even suggesting it, and he was not going to waste time having this argument. Yata craned his neck to kiss his boyfriend, getting a little thrill at the pit of his stomach from the contact, and the fact that Saruhiko's lips automatically responded to his. "It's been three goddamn days, Saru," he mumbled, pulling away just slightly. "I'm probably crazy, but whatever - I seriously want you, all right?" He gazed up heatedly into the cool blue eyes staring back at him. "Right now."
For a moment, Saruhiko stared back at him, as if he couldn't quite believe this was happening and didn't know how to feel about it. Then he sighed, shutting his eyes with a small, amused hum. "I must be as crazy as you," he murmured back, and his arms came up to slide around Yata's waist, pulling him in with a surprising fervor. "Something about you being desperate enough to practically jump me in a public place, though..."
"Who's... mmm... desparate?" The words didn't come out all that convincing, but Yata didn't really care. He was already winding his arms around Saruhiko's neck as his boyfriend backed him into the bathroom counter, the edge of it digging into the small of his back. They kissed sloppily, the catharsis after their brief period of separation coming out in needy little moans and the increasingly frantic way their bodies ground together.
"Saru," Yata gasped out, when they broke apart for air, feeling almost lightheaded with anticipation. He was too impatient to be anything but rough with his hold on Saruhiko's shoulders, thrusting his hips shamelessly against his boyfriend's. His dick was already about half-hard, responding to the frenzy of need that had clouded his thoughts, and the friction felt so good.
"Misaki..." Saruhiko made an incredibly sexy little noise, burying his face in the crook of Yata's neck. One of his hands snaked up and pulled the hat off the back of Yata's head, while the other tugged loose the sweater tied around his waist, letting it fall carelessly as he took the opportunity to slide his fingers up under the back of the T-shirt underneath. His breathing was hot and raggged, voice husky when he spoke again. "I want to touch you."
The tantalizing brush of those lips against his sensitive skin sent a delicious hot shudder through Yata's body. "Hah..." He tilted his head to the side without really thinking about it, hoping for more. The thought of Saruhiko's fingers on his body, pressing him down, spreading him open, touching the places that made him quiver from the stimulation... He wanted it so badly. "Yeah," he moaned back, fingers clenching in the fabric of his boyfriend's jacket. "Yeah... touch me..."
The pleased hum against his bared throat was practically a purr; Saruhiko pulled him away from the counter, sliding his hands down over Yata's ass and roughly grinding their hips together. "Misaki," he breathed, voice a little shaky even as he grazed his teeth along the taut tendons of Yata's neckline, lips and tongue hot and wet and promising. "Misaki." He repeated the thrusting motion, rubbing their clothed erections together, drawing out delicious friction and heat and... everything.
It was getting really hard to think; Yata shut his eyes and just let himself feel it as Saruhiko's fingers wandered up his chest and back, under his shirt, the thumb of one hand teasingly circling his nipple, the other running lightly down the line of his spine. Saruhiko's lips and tongue traced a path back up to his ear, teeth catching loosely on the shell, thrumming another pleased note into it. He arched up into those points of contact, letting out a half-gasping moan and digging his fingers into Saruhiko's shoulders. "Saru..." It was intoxicating, somehow, feeling this wanton and out of control - he couldn't get enough. "More..."
He could feel the tremor in Saruhiko's fingers at that. "You're so responsive today," he murmured, an undertone of wonder in his tone, rolling the pad of his thumb over the nipple beneath it with a little more pressure.
That spike of sensation, hovering tantalizingly at the border between pleasure and discomfort, momentarily blanked out his thoughts. "Ha... nn!" Even as he twisted the fabric of Saruhiko's jacket in his hands roughly, panting, he knew what his reponse to that was going to be. "Shut up and - ngh - fuck me already - hah - you bastard!"
The hands on his body froze; Saruhiko turned his head a bit and sighed into the corner of Yata's jaw, sounding unexpectedly exasperated. "Think that one through a little more," he muttered sullenly, fingers retreating from the sensitive places he'd been teasing.
The pleasant fog that had settled over his brain was starting to dissipate; Yata frowned, more than a little dismayed. "What?" It came out more defensive than he would've liked. "Don't want to?" Fuck, he hoped that wasn't the case... he was all keyed up to do it that way now. It was one of the reasons jerking off had been so unsatisfying lately.
"Of course I want to," Saruhiko mumbled, still sounding put-out. He slid one hand down to press through the fabric of Yata's shorts into the cleft of his ass, as if to illustrate. "Don't be an idiot."
"Then what's your problem?" Yata didn't even bother to try and keep the frustration out of his voice; he was hot and bothered, dick straining against his shorts, and he wanted - needed - to feel Saruhiko press into his body and find the pleasure points he couldn't get to on his own. At this point, he was so horny he wanted it hard, fast; to feel the sting and the burn, and - shit, thinking about it was just making it worse.
"No problem." The condescending drawl was enough to pull him back from those thoughts, at least somewhat. "If we're both masochists, that is." He barely had time to scowl at that before Saruhiko added, with a bit more of an edge, "I'm guessing you probably don't have lube hiding in a pocket somewhere, do you, Misaki?"
That was enough to make him freeze - for at least a full second before he felt his eyebrows contort down. "Shit..."
"I assume that's a 'no'." Saruhiko bit lightly at his neck, tongue following almost as if in apology. "It's fine," he added, dropping the edge, and planting light kisses in a downward line. "This is good enough, right? We'll do it the other way when I get - "
"It's not fine!" Dimly, Yata was kind of aware that he was being unreasonable, but three days' worth of denial - actually, more; he hadn't exactly been fucked the last few times, not that it usually mattered - were taking their toll. He turned his glare on the bathroom counter, frantically trying to find some sort of alternative. "There's gotta be something here we can use..."
Saruhiko pulled back from his neck, clicking his tongue with obvious irritation. "You're not making this easier to deal with, acting desperate like that," he muttered, face very noticeably flushed.
"Shut up! I'm not trying to make it easier!" His eyes caught the unobtrusive bottle of hand lotion by the sink, and he snatched it up without thinking, holding it with a weirdly aggravated sense of triumph. "Here you go - lube. Good enough, right?"
The look on his boyfriend's face was about what he might've expected if he'd told him to go put on a striptease in the mall plaza. "No."
Yata had to fight to keep his temper; if they started yelling at each other, sex of any kind was going to be unlikely. "Why not?" he gritted out through his teeth, glowering back.
Saruhiko's answering frown was irritable. "I shouldn't have to explain that. Do you even know what's in it?"
"It's fucking hand lotion - what the hell is in any of that stuff?" Did he have to be a dick about everything? This was getting stupid. "You're seriously going to tell me you've never used this crap to - to - " Goddamnit. Yata could feel his face burn, and deepened his scowl in an attempt to cover his embarrassment. "Anyway, it's not that big a deal!"
There was a kind of stubborn set to Saruhiko's downturned mouth; he made a small, derisive noise, but didn't respond otherwise.
"You..." Yata glared back at him, right on the edge between frustrated and pissed right off. It didn't take a rocket scientist to recognize when someone was being contrary just for the sake of being contrary. Being on the receiving end of this exact attitude more than a few times in the recent past, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get anywhere without giving some kind of 'out' so that his boyfriend could avoid having to admit to being wrong.
Honestly, are you still stuck in grade school?
Well, whatever, he could deal with this. Yata quickly took note of what he had to work with. Saruhiko's hands were low on his back, their bodies close enough to share heat, and despite the argument, he was still about half-hard, physically still kind of in the moment.
"You're not making this easier to deal with, acting desperate like that."
That... okay, maybe he could use that. It was probably going to be hard for his pride to take, but whatever, he didn't care right at the moment. "Saruhiko." Some of the frustration from before was still in his tone, as much as he tried to soften it up. Yata set the bottle down on the counter, reaching up to slide his hands over blue-clad shoulders and pressing down a bit automatically where he felt a line of tension. "You don't have to - to put it in." He didn't have to fake the way his face flushed at that. "If - If you just use your fingers or something, maybe..."
He actually saw the way Saruhiko's eyes darkened at that, pupils expanding. "Misaki - "
"I just... ah, whatever!" Yata let out a long breath, shutting his eyes, and had to force himself to look back up and meet that heated gaze. "It's fine if I can feel some part of you in - in - damnit, you know!" His fingers clenched a bit in the fabric beneath them; he leaned up to plant a quick, flustered kiss on Saruhiko's lips, and muttered, "It's embarrassing, but I've been wanting it for a while, so - "
"Shut up," Saruhiko cut him off abruptly, his tone low and urgent, and followed up by moving in to kiss him properly.
Well, 'properly' in terms of the mood, which in this case was 'hard, fast, rough, and messy'. Yata's back hit the counter again, Saruhiko's hands dropping beneath it to grip his ass almost painfully, jerking their lower bodies together with a fierocity that tripped his excitement from earlier all over again.
Fucking finally... It was hard to tell if he was feeling more relief or triumph - both of them faded off into the familiar hot rush of lust pretty quickly as he surged back into the kiss, gripping Saruhiko's shoulders and writhing against him without holding back. The familiar slick sensation of tongue in his mouth prompted a little spike of pleasure that made him shudder and groan, dick hardening again as he rubbed it shamelessly against his partner's hip, seeking some much-needed friction.
They were both panting when Saruhiko pulled back; Yata's face felt hot - actually, all of him did - and he was sure he was at least as flushed and disheveled as his boyfriend. Looking at that pale, beautiful face now, when it was tinted red, lips bruised and parted, eyes lidded and hazy with want behind his glasses... It gave him a thrill he could never duplicate with just his imagination, no matter how clearly the image was burned onto his brain. "Saru," he murmured without really thinking about it, tightening his fingers hard against the sinewy muscle beneath them.
"Misaki," Saruhiko mumbled in response, and drew in a somewhat shaky breath. One of his hands had migrated between them, pulling at the fastener of Yata's shorts. "You're going to have to take responsibility for this, you know."
He couldn't help the smirk that tugged up the sides of his mouth at that. "Heh." He dropped his own hands to return the favor, trembling a little with anticipation as he pulled apart the fabric to expose his boyfriend's underwear. "I'll take whatever you've got."
Saruhiko's answering smirk was almost predatory as he curled his fingers around Yata's shorts and boxers, pulling them both down over his erection slowly. "Get those out of the way first," he responded, pulling back to slide the jacket off of his shoulders.
It might've been the scene from the movie that had Yata reaching up hastily to stop him - he wasn't really sure at that point, just kind of acting on a last-minute impulse. "Don't."
He got a raised eyebrow for his trouble. "Why?"
"Ah... well, you know..." It was kind of stupid to feel embarrassed about something like this when he was standing in a public washroom with his pants down and his dick hard and ready, but there it was. Yata forced himself to continue. "Just - just leave it on, okay?"
Saruhiko blinked at him, clearly taken aback, and then the other eyebrow joined the first, the corners of his lips edging up. "Didn't you hate this uniform, Misaki?" His brows came down, eyelids lowering again at the same time. "Or was that a lie to cover up your real feelings?"
"Shut up," he muttered back, feeling another rush of heat rise to his face, and busied himself with sliding his shorts past his knees so that he could kick them off. "It wasn't a lie, damnit, I just - I'm okay with it now, that's all."
"'Okay with it', huh?" Saruhiko was still eyeing him with a kind of smug heated gaze from beneath his eyelashes; it was both annoying and a turn on at the same time. "Well, I don't mind leaving it on if you're that 'okay' with it." He tugged down his own pants and underwear, freeing his erection without hesitating. "Turn around."
"D-Don't get too full of yourself." Yata turned and bent over the counter obligingly, leaning on his elbows and widening his stance a bit. In a moment of rare foresight, he pulled his shirt up so that it bunched under his chest instead of hanging down. He caught Saruhiko's gaze in the mirror in front of him, and felt a little shiver of anticipation run through his body as his boyfriend reached out to pick up the bottle of lotion without breaking eye contact. "And don't go easy on me, dumbass."
"I wasn't planning to," Saruhiko drawled back, deliberately spreading a generous amount of lotion onto his fingers. "I told you you're taking responsibility, right, Misaki?" His voice lowered as he bent over Yata's back, leaning in to murmur directly into his ear, "Don't complain."
The brush of hot breath prompted another shiver. "As if I'll - ngh - complain." He couldn't help jerking a bit as a slick finger wormed its way inside him, without preamble. It always felt weird at first, but his body recognized the feeling now as a sign of what would come, and his cock gave a little twitch of anticipation as the digit slid in and out, a quick mimic of the motions of sex, before withdrawing.
Yata breathed shallowly, watching in the mirror as Saruhiko's eyes followed what he was doing where the reflection cut off. That gaze was controlled - focussed; it was hard to look away even as he was penetrated again, with two fingers this time. "Hah..."
It stung, but the hurt felt satisfying after their dry spell. Yata couldn't help but squirm a bit, hands curling into fists as those fingers scissored out and stretched him. As promised, Saruhiko was briskly efficient about it, not waiting for him to adjust before pulling out and coming back in with three.
That was enough to pull a half-strangled noise from the back of his throat - not so much because of the burn that came with the added friction, but because Saruhiko's fingers were just long enough to brush against his good spot when he pushed in deep enough. Even that teasingly light touch was like a zap of electricity through his veins; he shuddered with pleasure. "S-Saru..." Another swipe blanked out his thoughts for a second; he shut his eyes and panted, struggling for clarity.
Saruhiko's voice sounded unsteady when he spoke again. "Misaki..." He removed his fingers, maybe a little too hastily, and added, "I like it... that kind of reaction..."
Yeah... He liked it, too - being able to crack that forced control, get under his boyfriend's skin and make him lose it. Yata looked up at the mirror again, watching heatedly as Saruhiko spread the lotion over himself, eyes flickering shut momentarily as he did. His face was still flushed - it was a good look on him.
Even better when he opened his eyes and met Yata's gaze in the mirror, hot and tense and turned on, before leaning in over him. The slick head of his cock prodded against Yata's backside, sliding just a bit as Saruhiko maneuvered it one-handed, and then it was lined up, pushing in past the initial resistance, and he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath because, well, damn.
Something about the catch and burn of Saruhiko moving inside him was really fucking addicting. It felt good, way more satisfying than the fingers had been, and he wasn't sure how much of that was from watching the expression on Saruhiko's face contort in pleasure and how much was just that he liked the feeling in general. It didn't really matter much, either way, especially not when his boyfriend's hands were pulling his hips up, changing the angle of that first thrust, and - Oh, fuck, yes!
That first spike of pleasure had his back arching, fists clenching hard, and stars appearing at the edges of his vision as he gritted his teeth instinctively against an obnoxiously loud moan. That was it - the feeling he'd been craving these past three days - and it felt fucking incredible. "Saru," he managed to gasp out, and then made a sort of half-whining noise as his boyfriend followed through on the earlier promise of not going easy on him, leaning forward with a shuddering sigh and thrusting in earnest.
The pace would've been punishingly harsh if it wasn't exactly what he'd been after. Yata cried out without bothering to try and hold back, squirming uncontrollably against the counter as his muscles tightened up in reaction to the intensity of Saruhiko's cock coming in hard and deep, pressing just about every one of his buttons at once. "Sa... Saru... more..."
His answer was a heartful moan; Saruhiko bent over his back, fingers tightening almost painfully against his hips. He could feel the brush of the uniform against his naked skin as his boyfriend's body rutted sharply against his, and that somehow made the whole scenario feel that much more lewd and untamed - like it had just kind of happened, and neither of them had any control over it; the two of them humping like animals in a public place during a work day.
A pleasant little shiver shot up from his groin at that thought. Shit... Yata shut his eyes in reaction before forcing them open again to stare, unfocussed, at the moving images in the mirror. Saruhiko let out one of those sexy little whimpers, mouth hot and damp against his back, his pace growing frenzied as he reached his limit.
The wild, almost desperate push and pull of sex was hugely satisfying; Yata could feel the responding quiver of pleasure in his own dick, moisture leaking from the tip, and would've tried to free an arm to reach back and stroke it if he wasn't already being pushed so close to the edge that his limbs had gone rigid with anticipation. "Hah..." He ducked his head, giving up on the mirror for the moment and just riding out the fast building wave of pleasure. "Saru... s-so close... fuck..."
"Misaki..." Saruhiko breathed out against his shoulder blade, sounding just about totally wrecked, and that was enough to push him over the edge, right there.
Yata's whole body seized up; he let out a strangled cry and squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering uncontrollably as he spilled himself out on the bathroom floor. The rush of sensation that came with the orgasm was so intense that his brain blanked out for a second or two, leaving him panting and whining helplessly against the counter, fingers unclenching to claw at the surface of it as Saruhiko continued to fuck him right through it. The sensation teetered dangerously somewhere on the edge of pleasure and pain, his blissed-out nerves too frazzled to process it right.
And then Saruhiko was twitching within him and against him, moaning low against the trembling curve of his back as he came as well.
Holy fuck, yes...
The labored sound of their breathing as they wound down was somehow louder than the sex had been, at least in Yata's ears. He glanced wearily up at the mirror again, struggling to stay upright on legs that felt like jelly, and couldn't help but smile a bit when he caught of Saruhiko's slack body curled against his own. It looked like the tension from before had left him.
He couldn't help but feel just a little proud about that.
After a moment, Saruhiko's grip on his hips released; instead of pulling back, though, he slid his arms around Yata's waist, pressing his forehead against his back with a small, content-sounding noise.
Yeah, guess that can't be helped. Saruhiko was generally pretty clingy after sex. It was kind of appealing somehow, though - Yata didn't try to hold back the fond sigh before freeing one hand to tap a finger against his partner's arm. "Hey... didn't you say you're working right now?"
"You weren't complaining earlier," Saruhiko drawled back, his tone tired and satisfied, but let up on his hold all the same, straightening up and separating them with a certain amount of care. He met Yata's gaze in the mirror, smiling lazily.
They seriously both looked pretty fucked-out - anyone with half a brain was going to guess what had happened, but it was hard to care at the moment. "I'm not complaining." Yata pushed himself up from the counter with some effort, stretching out some of the soreness that had come with the cramped position. He felt refreshed, despite the gross slickness between his legs and the cooling sheen of sweat on his body, and couldn't help but grin, pressing a hand behind his neck to work out the kinks. "Uwah... that really hit the spot..."
"Literally or figuratively?" Saruhiko's posture and smile were relaxed when he met Yata's gaze.
"Heh." Honestly, he was feeling way too good to rise to that kind of bait. Yata let his eyes go lidded, smirking back. "Both." He leaned up again for one last kiss.
"Can't believe you missed the rest of the movie." Bandou shook his head, as if he honestly believed there was anything to miss about that stupid film. "Seriously, how long does it take you to rub one out?"
He wasn't as bothered by that as he would've been earlier, but it still had him scowling back over his shoulder as headed for the mall exit, cheeks growing hot. "Sh-Shut up. I wasn't - "
"Longer than it'd take someone who's single, probably," Chitose answered, as if he hadn't been speaking, and shrugged at Bandou's indignant sputtering. "Just pointing out a fact."
"You seem a lot more relaxed, though, Yata," Akagi piped up, giving Bandou a comiscerating pat on the shoulder as he caught up to them. "I guess the movie was a good idea after all."
"Or the bathroom was," Eric put in, without missing a beat.
"Shut up!" Yata snapped at him, and purposefully moved forward to push through the mall's front entrance with the hand not holding his skateboard. "Some of us have a good handle on things and don't need to resort to that kind of stuff all the time, that's all. I was just splashing some water on my face, and - "
He froze in his tracks at that, tossing a startled glance to his left. "... eh? Saru?"
There were two unfamiliar-looking Scepter 4 agents hovering some distance back as Saruhiko approached him, expression neutral. "You forgot this in the washroom." He held out the sweater that had been around Yata's waist earlier, shaking it a little when it wasn't immediately taken from him. "Here."
"Ah - " He blinked, a little surprised, and then reached out to take it. "Right. Thanks."
"Pay attention next time," Saruhiko drawled out, infuriating as always, and turned to leave. "See you at home."
Yata half turned to face his friends again, not quite done processing what had just happened, and found himself faced with a whole variety of knowing looks. "Uh, so - "
"Heeeeeh." Chitose put a hand to his chin, nodding to himself. "I see what's going on here."
Oh. Shit... He could feel his face growing hot. "N-No, it's - "
"'Splashing some water on my face'," Eric repeated, blandly.
Not good. "Damnit, just let me - "
"Sex in public!" Bandou slumped, a little over-dramatically. "Where's the justice in this world, huh?"
"Shut up!" Yata yelped back, the heat spreading all the way to his ears. "I didn't have sex in public!"
"Yata..." Kamamoto gave him a kind of pitying look. "You know, it's not that big a deal; we all kind of know anyway - "
"Fucking shut up!" Screw this whole converstaion. Yata turned abruptly so they couldn't see how red his face probably was, and stiffly started marching away from them. "You guys are the worst friends ever!"
"I can live with that," Chitose responded, without a trace of guilt. "Seeing as how your best friend ever turned into your boyfriend... Yeah, I'll stick with being the worst."
"Seems safer that way," Dewa agreed.
"Shut. Up," Yata gritted out, and clenched his fist around the sweater in his hand as he threw down his skateboard and hopped on, trying to tune out the laughter from behind him. "I'm going back to the bar."
It was really annoying, he had to admit, even as the familiar feel of wheels under him and the wind in his face took some of his agitation. He couldn't actually deny any of the things his friends were bugging him about, because it was true. That stupid monkey had definitely made him a pervert, and now he was suffering the consequences. Sex in a public bathroom, for crying out loud - what the hell was he thinking? He never would've even thought of something like that before.
Somehow, though... somehow, as he sped towards his destination with his heart pounding fast and exhileration pumping through his veins, there was a grin on his face that wouldn't stop.