Set in Stone


Chapter Eleven


A little over two weeks later, their number of charges had increased from two to… five.

It was pitiful, honestly. Not to mention frustrating. The weather had been relentless, though – for two solid weeks after the first time he brought Fushimi along for a harvest, it had either dumped rain all day or remained just cloudy enough that the sun or moon barely had a chance to peek through. It was almost like the sky was revolting against them, laughing at their helplessness in the face of its refusal to cooperate.

The past night had been the first time it had cleared up since that Sunday – and, unfortunately, that had unveiled a brand new problem.

That problem was the moon.

The last quarter moon.

With the gloomy weather, Yata hadn’t had much sense of the moon for a while, which was fine, if a little depressing. The last time they’d been out in it, the moon had been waning, which dulled the impact and made it easier to resist temptation.

This moon was waxing, and it was gonna be full soon. Which was… bad.

Time and familiarity hadn’t exactly dulled that sharp attraction he’d had to Fushimi from the start – if anything, it was worse now than it ever had been. The constant teasing didn’t help; in fact, it fueled things even more because Yata was pretty fucking sure that Fushimi was at least halfway not joking. He sometimes wondered if his own gazes were as heated and hungry as the ones he received in those moments of deliberate intensity. Every time they touched, no matter how slight or casual, the sensation was electric. They were always together, forced into proximity by the contract, and rather than easing things off due to familiarity, it felt like the tension between them heightened by the day. Things would be perfectly normal and then the slightest thing would remind him that – oh, right – sex was a thing and he kinda really wanted to do it with this guy, and his libido just wouldn’t fucking shut up.

These days, sleeping with his bedroom door shut was more about resisting temptation than any kind of self-preservation. He didn’t trust himself.

He’d been avoiding all that shit well enough, though. And then the weather had cleared...

“So…” Fushimi paused his typing, looking up from his laptop to eye Yata pointedly across the table. “Are we heading out, or are you planning to sit here and waste the whole night?”

Yata looked up from the comic he hadn’t really been reading – well, okay, he had been, but he kept losing focus and having to find his place again, so same thing – to frown back. “It’s still early.”

“The moon’s out,” Fushimi drawled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “The sooner we go, the less chance of cloud cover rolling in. Right?”

True, but… Ugh. Even just sitting there, Yata was hyper aware of the moonlight’s pull. Normally it was a good thing – energizing and pleasant – but right then it was just reminding him of a certain recent humiliation. “I get that! We’ll go in a bit, okay?”

He got a raised eyebrow in response. “If this is about last night – ”

“Shut up about last night,” Yata cut him off, frown deepening to a scowl.

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he muttered, his eyes sharp as he watched Yata from across the table. “The only one who saw it was me. Do I have to remind you that I really don’t care?”

“That’s not the point!” Yata slammed the comic down, glaring back at him. “It’s…” He scowled, unable to come up with a good way to explain his feelings, and reached up to scratch the back of his head with agitation.

His pride had taken a hit, that was all. And yeah, it really did matter that Fushimi was the one to see it. It mattered because he’d been talking to Fushimi, not about anything sexual, but his eyes kept catching on the motions of those thin lips and the moonlight was accentuating all of his feelings, attraction and lust more than anything. He’d been so caught up in the pleasant urges swarming his body that he hadn’t even noticed their outward effect until Fushimi had looked down, lowered his lids, and offered that deadly little smirk of his.

“Not bad.”

Just remembering it had his face burning. Yata looked away, letting out a sharp ‘ch’ through the side of his mouth. He’d popped awkward boners before, but usually with his shirt on or at least some other way to hide it. And not with the cause staring right at it!

Fucking humiliating, no matter how he looked at it.

And it got even worse when he’d jerked off in the shower later. He was already having to do that every night without fail, just to relieve some of the tension that had built up, but this time he couldn’t get that look or that smirk out of his head. He hit orgasm right as Fushimi’s voice played over in his head, low and throaty and promising, and spent the next several minutes standing there in the lukewarm spray feeling physically satiated and mentally wishing fervently for death.

He was pretty sure Fushimi knew some of it – hard to hide much from him, considering their situation – but they hadn’t exactly talked about it. He’d avoided Fushimi’s gaze entirely when he’d left the bathroom and ducked immediately into his bedroom instead, closing the door. The subject hadn’t been raised at all the next morning, and they’d gone about their day as if it had never happened, even completing the third charge on the moonstone with little to no awkwardness.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy to block it out of his head.

“It’s… what?” Fushimi challenged when the silence stretched out, still with that drawling tone.

Seriously, fuck this. Yata deliberately braced his hand on the table, pushing himself up with force. “Never mind,” he snapped back, bruised pride making him tense and irritable. He deliberately avoided meeting Fushimi’s gaze. “Fine. Let’s go.”


It was hard not to be aware of those eyes on him as he pulled off his shirt – even harder to avoid it when casting the invisibility spell. When he took off, it was without warning, climbing over the railing just outside his apartment and jumping off recklessly. The momentum and the rush helped enormously to push that frustrating embarrassment aside.

This whole situation sucked, but at least he had some outlets.

Landing on the spot they’d discovered the previous night – a school rooftop – brought it all back again, unfortunately. The strength of the moon’s energy washed over him the instant he landed, pleasant and seductive all at once. He had to take a moment to shut his eyes, bracing himself.

If only it wasn’t so damn good

Fushimi landed only a few minutes later, and Yata hastily retracted his wings, fumbling to pull his shirt on again. He felt way too nervous about all the exposed skin, and at least this way he’d have some sort of shield if there was a repeat of last night.

It seemed like he was the only one reacting to that awkward mood – at least on the outside – because Fushimi immediately busied himself with pulling the sunstone from his pocket and holding it out. Even before looking up, Yata could catch the sense of it beginning its sluggish absorption. It was a nice distraction, actually; they had an actual reason for being out other than just getting emotionally jerked off by moonlight.

Not that he really wanted to think about being jerked off right at that moment…

“Are you going to stand there the whole time?” Fushimi asked drily, cutting into that thought. When Yata turned, he found that Fushimi had sat with his back against the wall that lined the roof they were on, leaning against it casually as he rested his arm on his knee, palm up with the stone charging.

Somehow, it felt kinda like they were kids sneaking in outside school hours. Not that Yata had done much of that – he hadn’t had any really close friends in school – but it felt weirdly nostalgic all the same. Enough that he felt able to nudge aside some of that mood from earlier and relax enough to walk over slump down roughly a short distance away. “Right, sorry. I’m good.”

“I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me.” Fushimi raised an eyebrow at him. “But if it makes you feel better, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yata shrugged that off, avoiding turning his head to look fully at Fushimi. His goal was to keep his mind off of the tantalizing pull of the moonlight, and if he kept focusing on unrelated stuff, that’d probably be easier. Hopefully. “It’s a habit.”

Fushimi snorted. “Not that I’ve noticed, it isn’t.”

“Yeah, well.” Yata shrugged. “No reason for me to wanna apologize to you most of the time.”

He got a small, amused hum in response. “And yet, here we are.”

“Hey, I said most of the time.” He barely stopped himself from glancing over with a quick grin. Right. No looking right now. “Gimme a break here.”

“Which is why I wouldn’t call it a habit,” Fushimi responded without missing a beat. His voice was amused but lacking any kind of mockery when he added, “This is such a stupid conversation.”

“You started it,” Yata shot back, but his own grin was widening; he couldn’t help but agree.

Since when did we start chatting about dumb things like this? Casual things. Lightly bantering with no intention of winning arguments. Commenting about the smallest stuff and being able to engage with each other over it.

It was… surprisingly easy.

Fushimi offered an amused huff, but didn’t take the bait, instead falling silent. Yata let that quiet spread between them instead of trying to break it himself, leaning his head back against the wall behind him and letting his gaze settle somewhere around the door that led into the school to avoid fixing it on either Fushimi or the moon.

It felt kinda nice, just sitting together in companionable silence; if he wasn’t hyper aware of the moonlight sinking in under his skin and trying to light up his nerves, he probably would’ve enjoyed it. There wasn’t a need to say or do anything in particular; just the act of being there, the two of them in a quiet, empty world, was enough to keep any kind of loneliness at bay.

Which was… weird. It wasn’t always like this. Fushimi was always there, which was nice in some ways – not feeling lonely any more, for one – but it was seriously too much sometimes too. There were times he would’ve liked a break that wasn’t spent hiding in his bathroom or bedroom. Or just to be able to go places by himself. And with all the complaints and the grumbling, he was pretty sure Fushimi felt the same way. But on the other hand, there were moments like this, where he was just glad for the company, quiet or not.

Seriously, how long had it been since the silence between them felt comfortable rather than awkward? He couldn’t place the exact point when the change had happened.

In a way, that was kind of unnerving, but also somehow… not bad.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there letting his thoughts wander before Fushimi spoke again. “How much longer do you think this will be?”

It was a pretty common question when they were at this. Yata turned without thinking. “Let’s see…” He reached out immediately to touch the stone, realization only just hitting as he felt the hint of warmth against his side that he’d shifted into Fushimi’s personal space. Immediately, he found himself glancing up, pin-pricks of surprise scattering across his skin as those devastating eyes met his, dark and glittering in the pale light.

Desire stirred in the pit of Yata’s belly, slow and seductive but heightened by the moon’s energy to something more like a physical ache. He was close enough that he could’ve reached up to touch that fine-boned face without straining himself if he wanted to.

And, oh yeah, he wanted to. The pads of his fingers tingled at the thought of running brushing them over Fushimi’s skin, maybe letting his thumb trail deliberately across the corner of those thin lips…

Shit. Clamping down on that thought, Yata hastily shuffled back to his original spot, heart racing and cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment as he deliberately turned his gaze in front of him again. “It… yeah, it, uh, it’ll probably be done soon – like maybe a few minutes or, I dunno – ”

Fushimi clicked his tongue sharply, interrupting that useless stream of words. When he spoke again, it was in a low mumble. “Are you really that determined not to get another boner in front of me?”

Yata gaped at him, momentarily stunned by the unexpected bluntness of that question. “… eh?” was about all he could manage after the initial awkward moments of speechlessness.

Did he seriously just ask…?

“I’m not really sure why we’re playing this game in the first place,” Fushimi continued, his tone that mix of unconcerned and superior that tended to drive Yata up the wall. “I can feel your emotions, so it’s not like you’re hiding anything. And it’s not like I’ve never seen another man’s erect – ”

“Stop right there!” Yata blurted the words without even thinking, too mortified by this frank conversation to let it go on. “Look, fine, okay, you’ve seen some boners. Great. I’m happy for you, or something.” He heaved an agitated breath, glaring at Fushimi to cover his fit of nerves. “But do we seriously have to fucking talk about this? It was embarrassing!”

Fushimi stared back at him with unimpressed eyes. “It’s only embarrassing because you fight with yourself so much.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s like you constantly expect to be judged or to have some kind of ‘tough guy’ points taken away from you for your preferences. Or even your name, for that matter.” He clicked his tongue again. “Anyone who’s going to judge you on those things is worthless, so what’s the point of trying to impress them?”

Once again, Yata found himself caught speechless. He guessed all that? This was stuff he’d spent years coming to terms with, painstakingly identifying each long-held assumption and prying them loose from actual facts. For it to be summed up and stated so casually… It was jarring.

Hastily gathering his wits, Yata managed to resume his glare. “Oi… I never asked you to pull some psychology bullshit on me! Don’t just run your mouth off about shit you don’t know anything about!”

“I don’t know anything, huh?” Fushimi raised his other eyebrow, voice drawing out into a drawl. “I’ve spent nearly a month in your head, so maybe I know more than you think.” He lowered his eyebrows, letting his lids go heavy. “Let me take a guess at why you get so embarrassed whenever sex comes up: it’s because you prefer to bottom. Maybe not all the time, but most of the time. And you assume anyone who finds out is going to make some kind of assumptions about you because of it. Am I right?”

The shock that struck him at that was accompanied by a rush of sudden and fierce embarrassment. Yata floundered for a moment. “Wait – how…?”

“You’re easy to read when it comes to this.” The corners of Fushimi’s mouth edged up just slightly, almost lazily. By contrast, his eyes were intent. “You admit to being gay, but you’re still ridiculously defensive about anything sex-related – the same way you are with your name. It only gets worse when the hints are more direct; the backlash I get from you makes it pretty obvious it bothers you.” He tipped his head forward, lashes veiling his eyes again. “It’s pointless, by the way. That kind of stuff doesn’t mean anything outside the bedroom.”

An unexpected little surge of surprised gratification at the last bit cut into his irritation with the rest; Yata did his best to push it down, determined not to stand down. “I know that already,” he gritted out in response, scowling back. The combination of Fushimi’s tone, expression, and intensity were awakening that halfway-stifled arousal within his body again, which was frustrating on top of everything but couldn’t be helped. “I already figured most of this shit out. I’m working on it, not that it’s any of your business.” He let out his breath sharply and muttered, “Not like I wanna share this crap with every asshole who blows into my life.”

Fushimi made a small, amused-sounding huff. “You’re already sharing most of it with me, whether you want to or not. That’s beside the point, though.” His eyes were still sharp on Yata’s face. “You know as well as I do that a girly name doesn't make you feminine somehow, magically. And you don't morph into some stereotype just for enjoying being fucked.” He made a derisive noise. “Anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth your time; you're better off weeding them out quickly.”

It still wasn't anything Yata hadn't worked out for himself – and hard as hell to put into practice; he didn't need asshole strangers judging him. But hearing Fushimi say it… It changed things. Some small, defensive reflex he hadn’t realized he’d been engaging released its hold with those words, a rush of relief surprising him with its intensity. It struck him then that he’d been cagey about those things deliberately from the start: on the defense over his name even when Fushimi hadn’t made any comment about it outside of Yata’s own reactions, and fiercely embarrassed by his own lustful fantasies. He’d expected Fushimi to judge him; to act smug and assume he’d scored a point of superiority because Yata wanted – really badly wanted – to be fucked by him.

But that had just been his assumption, based on his own prejudice and the last dregs of stubborn internal shame he couldn’t seem to shake. As usual.

That was still sinking in when Fushimi let out a huff of breath, partly amused and partly resigned. “You're so single-minded,” he murmured, eyes going lidded again as his lips quirked up. “How long were you planning to pretend I can’t feel everything you do when you get all worked up?”

That fucking expression… And the heat in his gaze… Damnit. Yata clenched his teeth harder against the pleasant shiver he couldn’t manage to repress.

Fushimi didn’t even wait for him to collect himself, drawling out, “It’s not like I mind it.” His little smirk widened further. “You should know that much by now.”

Fuck. This was getting dangerous. Yeah, of course he knew that Fushimi didn’t mind this attraction – that he’d encourage it, even – but that didn’t mean… it didn’t mean he had to… that they had to…

With the light of the moon washing over him encouragingly and his body starting to buzz with want, it was hard as hell to figure out where that thought was going. Yata swallowed despite the fact that his mouth felt suddenly dry. Fushimi looked so good, sounded even better, and it would probably be amazing to touch him. To feel that smooth skin under his hands and Fushimi’s slender fingers on his body…

Knowing that Fushimi had figured him out, and didn’t care – didn’t think of him or treat him any different…

It meant a lot. Everything. Like something within him had snapped. Yata felt loose… free, in a sense.

Every inch of him was thrumming with desire – with pleasure, the way the moonlight sank into his skin and heightened every little sensation. He was moving before he was properly aware of it, shifting closer to Fushimi, the warmth between their bodies lighting his senses on fire as his eyes honed on that deadly smile… those lips that looked so tantalizing, so kissable…

The stone in Fushimi’s hand abruptly seemed to trill, like an alarm going off, and Yata stilled, the reality of their present situation washing over him again like ice water cooling the heated moment. He was mere inches from Fushimi’s face, close enough to feel the ghost of his breath, and he couldn’t even remember leaning in that far.


“Uh… yeah…” Pulling back and turning his head, he cleared his throat in an attempt to recover some of his equilibrium. “That. The… stone. Y’know…”

Fushimi sighed. “I know.” His voice had gone flat, but he obligingly closed his fingers around the sunstone, clicking his tongue maybe a bit more harshly than usual. “It’s fine – I’ve got it.”

Restlessness was already surging through Yata’s veins, mingling with the remaining desire that he wasn’t going to be able to shake. Maybe it was the resignation in Fushimi’s tone – or maybe the moonlight had really gotten to him. But whatever it was, he couldn’t stand to just sit there and waffle over this whole thing.

What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He wasn’t this indecisive normally.

Forget this. Pushing himself abruptly to his feet, Yata reached up to pull his shirt off, ignoring the fact that it left the tent in his shorts totally exposed.

Fushimi was right about that – who fucking cared? Who the hell did he think he was fooling?

Only himself, obviously.

When he glanced over, Fushimi was hastily pushing himself up as well, staring at Yata in perplexity. “What are you doing?”

There was an obvious bulge in the front of his pants as well, Yata couldn’t help but notice. Maybe it had been there last night too and he was just so wrapped up in his own insecurity that he hadn’t bothered to look. The thought – and the clear reality in front of him – sent another lustful little shudder through his body.


Shrugging that aside, Yata grinned back, tucking his shirt into his pants and drawing out his wings smoothly. “Gonna take a flight.” He met Fushimi’s narrowing eyes with a heated look of his own. “We never did race, huh? Well, try and catch me – if you think you can.”

Without leaving any time for a reaction, he raised his wings and brought them down hard to push himself up and gain altitude, flapping quickly a few times to put distance between them and gain momentum.

Honestly, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing – this was just blindly following his instincts, caving in to that restless energy that it felt like his body couldn’t contain. With the moon’s light beating down on him, refreshing all of the pleasant feelings that coursed through his veins, he couldn’t resist the urge to laugh out loud.

This is seriously the best! He hadn’t felt this good – this free – in a long time.

Who cared about any of that small stuff, anyway?

That Fushimi was following right after him, he didn’t doubt. Not only because of the contract, either. In the time they’d known each other, he’d learned a thing or two. Fushimi couldn’t resist a challenge any more than he could, even if he reacted differently to it. And he was relentless when he set his mind to something. Which was… an enticing thought. In more ways than one.

Without noticing, he’d somehow aimed for his own apartment. With adrenaline still lighting his nerves on fire, Yata landed clumsily in front of his door, drawing in his wings as he fumbled with the lock and burst through – not even bothering to lose his shoes as he stumbled into the kitchen. Another breathless laugh bubbled up at the back of his throat and he braced himself on the counter with both hands, leaning forward heavily as he collected himself.

Except that there wasn’t going to be time for that.

A warm body pressed against his from behind before he could begin to sort out his thoughts, hands settling on his hips. “Caught you,” Fushimi drawled, his mouth so close to Yata’s ear that the heat of his breath teased at it.

The shiver that ran through Yata in response was involuntary but not unwelcome. Through the fog of desire clouding his brain, he recognized that Fushimi’s hold wasn’t exactly restrictive. If he wanted to, he could break free pretty easily.

If he wanted to…

The acceptance that had him tilting his head to the side to allow access must have been processed by Fushimi in the exact same moment, because he let out a shuddery breath, burying his face in the crook of Yata’s neck as his hands slid around to fumble with the fastening of his shorts.

Fuck. This was really happening. Yata bit back what was probably an embarrassing noise, reaching up to blindly brush his fingers against the side of Fushimi’s jaw. The skin held the very faint prickle of stubble, but it was mostly smooth and slightly clammy from the earlier exertion. When he moved his hand back and brushed Fushimi’s hair, it was softer than he’d expected.

Feels nice…

Fushimi had made quick work of his shorts, sliding them down off of Yata’s hips once the fly was open. One of his hands reached immediately down to cup the aching bulge in Yata’s underwear through the fabric, giving it a little squeeze.

The initial contact was like lightning. Yata couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped him, fingers curling against Fushimi face. His other hand gripped the edge of the counter as sensation coursed through him.

He could feel as much as hear the pleased answering hum against his neck. Fushimi’s other hand rested on his abdomen, pulling him back so their bodies were flush. The feeling of warm, bare skin and the light echo of Fushimi’s heartbeat against his back had another shudder wracking his body, an involuntary sound escaping him as Fushimi thumbed the wet spot at the head of his dick. The unmistakable press of something hot and hard against his lower back fed into the pleasure, his muscles tensing with anticipation.

Fucking good, and they’d barely started.

The pressure on his dick was short-lived; those graceful fingers slid free, gripping the elastic of his underwear in order to drag it down over and below his erection, leaving it gathered at the top of his thighs. Yata shifted to make it easier, deliberately leaning forward against the counter to lift his ass and press it back against Fushimi's body.

He could feel the sharp inhalation against his neck, but more than that, his attention was on the unmistakable press of skin against skin – the slick, hot glide of Fushimi’s cock against the crack of his ass. It drew another involuntary noise from his throat even before Fushimi’s hand was on him again, his skin prickling with pleasure and anticipation as fantasies started to form sharply in his mind.

It was almost possible to feel it: that hard length pressing inside him, stretching him out, hitting all those points that begged to be stimulated... Yata bit his lip, failing to suppress a moan as Fushimi’s fingers curled around him again, the stark relief of pressure on his dick hitting him even harder with the possibilities so clear in his mind. Fuck, he wanted it. He wanted to see what Fushimi’s face looked like in pleasure, to hear all the sounds he was suppressing now, to feel their bodies join.

It wasn't happening now, that much was for sure; there wasn't time for any kind of prep with their current pace. He could already feel the world around him starting to melt as sensation and urgency overtook him; the quickening of Fushimi's breath and the jerkiness of his motions signaled that he was at a similar point.

This is gonna be fast... No helping it, though. He was so wound up he couldn't have held back if he wanted to.

Those longer fingers cupped Yata's balls, squeezing lightly and causing him to jerk at the influx of pleasure. He couldn't help the little “ah” that escaped him, followed by a gasp as Fushimi slid his hand up and gripped the base of his dick, finally giving it a firm, practiced stroke and deftly thumbing the tip. At the same time, he thrust against Yata's backside, his own hot erection sliding into the cleft and generating slick friction.

Oh, fuck... The length of Fushimi's dick brushed dangerously close to his entrance, causing Yata to twitch and groan, body tensing at the dual stimulation from that and the hand working his cock over. Fushimi let out another of those appealing little whines, bending forward to press closer to him again. “Misaki,” he breathed against Yata’s neck, sounding almost desperate.

His first name had never sounded so amazing. Yata was unprepared for the extra surge of arousal it sent through him. Damn…

His thoughts were splintering, all of his focus going to the points where their bodies touched. He could feel Fushimi’s breath hot and frenzied against his neck, tiny little moans escaping as he began to thrust in earnest, chasing his own pleasure even as his hand began to move in tandem.

It was too much – too good. Yata felt the telltale urgency building fast in his gut and didn't even bother to fight it, reaching back again to clench his fingers in Fushimi’s hair as he approached his climax, thrusting as much as he was able to against that devilish double hold.

When he reached the peak, it was explosive; shuddering pleasure wracked his body and he didn't bother to hold in the cry that escaped him, releasing into Fushimi’s hand and clenching back instinctively against his dick. Through the rush of mindless relief, he felt the vibration of Fushimi’s answering moan just before teeth clamped hard on his neck, drawing out the moment with a mix of pleasure and pain.

Shit... shit... Yata could barely think. He leaned heavily against the counter, panting, as his body processed the additional stimulation.

It was only a few more thrusts before he felt Fushimi follow, thin body trembling violently as his cock twitched, spilling onto Yata’s lower back. It was deliciously erotic to feel that release against him; Yata had another helpless, pleasant shiver overtake him in the aftermath. Fushimi let out a low whimper against his neck, mouth hot and wet against the sting of the bite he'd inflicted.

There was a short pause while they caught their breath and came down from the high.

In the immediate aftermath, Fushimi slumped over him, almost going boneless against Yata’s back as his cock started to soften. His fingers slid free, both hands hovering kind of awkwardly around Yata’s hips as if hesitant to wrap around him.

It was… strangely nice. The hint of vulnerability was endearing. Yata couldn’t help but smile slightly, deliberately sliding his fingers free of Fushimi’s hair and flexing them to ease the stiffness.

It was kinda weird… He’d just given into the impulse and hadn’t considered a lot of things. Like they weren’t exactly safe; Fushimi’s dick had been all over his ass without a damn condom or anything. As much as he was pretty sure he wasn’t gonna get any kinda STD, it was way more careless than he usually was with this shit. He’d never lost his head so much that he hadn’t even considered it. And they’d done it in the kitchen, which was sorta gross – normally he wouldn’t wanna fuck anywhere near where he did his food prep and casting. Plus, Fushimi was still kind of an asshole and they hadn’t even confirmed that they were friends really, much less… this. Whatever it was.

But despite all of that – all the really good reasons why this was probably a huge mistake – he couldn’t bring himself to feel any kind of regret.

That had just been… well… damn good. Worth it.

As if sensing the good mood and determined to spoil it, Fushimi pulled back languidly, letting out a long breath as he separated them. “What kind of foreplay was that? ‘Come and catch me’ – really?”

“Heh.” The smile grew to a grin. Yata reached down to pull up his underwear, grimacing a little as he pieced his clothing together over his gross, sticky skin. It would’ve felt too weird to stay naked until he could clean himself off privately at that point, though, so he’d have to put up with it. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Anything would’ve worked by that point.” Fushimi’s voice was back to that drawl again, but there was a note of satisfaction in it. He offered what looked like an honest smile when Yata turned to meet his gaze, eyes glittering in the dim light behind his glasses. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yata shook his head, letting out a rueful huff and reaching up to rub at the sore point on his neck. “You really do bite, huh?”

Fushimi lowered his eyelids. He’d fixed his pants but not bothered to cover his bare torso, and Yata felt a certain appreciation – not just for the view, but also for the fact that he didn’t have to be half-naked on his own right after they’d got each other off. “You didn’t seem to mind,” he murmured.

Fuck. That tone and gaze combination were still as dangerous as ever. In his relaxed state, though, Yata found himself going heavy lidded in response, grin widening into a smirk. “Didn’t say I did.”

That seemed to click; at least, he instinctively thought they had a moment of understanding with the way something shifted in the gaze that met his. Then Fushimi shut his eyes, letting out a soft, amused huff. “We should clean up.”

“Right.” It wasn’t too jarring to break out of that mood. And his skin felt gross, so yeah, he definitely wanted to clean it. Yata shrugged off the weariness that had started to weigh on him with his orgasm. “I’ll shower first.”

“You’re not a very good host.”

“Screw you – I’m the one with your jizz on my back. You can fucking wait.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time…”

“That was in the moment, dumbass!”

It wasn’t so bad, Yata figured, bantering lightly with Fushimi as he grabbed his clothes. Things weren’t awkward or anything, even after they’d fucked. He felt sorta optimistic about the situation – satisfied with the way things had been left with that amazing orgasm out of the way. Now they’d done it, so that was that.

Maybe now things will cool off between us for a while, huh?