Takes place between 'Wedding Day' and 'Afterward' - contains sexual content
When Fushimi drifted awake, he was lying on his side with slivers of light hitting the pillow beside him and the familiar weight of Misaki's arm slung over his waist from behind him. He could feel the light brush of warm breath against the back of his neck, heavy and rhythmic with sleep.
It was a comforting sort of way to wake up.
The memories of the previous night were starting to reawaken as well. Fushimi slid his left hand up slowly and regarded the slim band on his ring finger, with a kind of sleep-hazed wonder. Yesterday, he had married Misaki. It didn't really change anything - it was just a piece of jewelry; an official stamp of approval on a relationship they'd already defined and agreed to. But Misaki's intentions meant something. Misaki's words of devotion. Misaki's eyes that looked at him with open affection.
It was special because Misaki considered it special. Misaki considered him special.
Fushimi closed his eyes again, letting the soothing weight of that fact settle over him. He reached down blindly to cover Misaki's hand with his, threading their fingers together and feeling the slight difference in resistance as his ring brushed against his husband's.
Behind him, Misaki shifted a little, sighing in his sleep against Fushimi's neck and drawing in closer. The familiar slide of skin against skin stirred up a little shiver at the base of Fushimi's stomach. Misaki's naked torso was warm and it fit comfortably against his equally naked back, which was nice.
The undeniable press of his morning erection against Fushimi's backside was... nice in a different way.
Isn't that interesting?
The memory of Misaki's lips moving hungrily against his as those calloused hands ran urgently over his body slunk seductively to the forefront of Fushimi's mind, and he allowed himself a little smile. We didn't manage to deal with that last night, did we? Experimentally, he ground his hips back against Misaki's erection, and felt more than heard the sleepy 'mmm' that came in response. His own cock gave a little twitch of interest, familiar with the potential pleasure offered by the situation.
Misaki was pretty easy to work up in almost all situations, and the bedroom was no exception. It was gratifying to be able to draw his heated gaze with innocuous movements or actions, but more than that, Fushimi liked to feel the tremble of excitement in Misaki's movements as his control slipped - the way his kisses grew clumsy and frenzied and his eyes started to glaze over with lust.
It was a heady feeling, being the focus of that.
Misaki... Fushimi breathed out slowly, feeling the tense excitement building in his lower body. First things first, of course... He slid his hand from Misaki's and reached for the bedside drawer, pulling it open and retrieving the half-used bottle from inside.
Experience had proven that it was a good idea to have it within easy reach in moments like this.
Misaki's breathing was still deep and relaxed against his neck, his arm slack around Fushimi's waist. He was generally a heavy sleeper, but if you knew which buttons to press, it wasn't difficult to wake him up. Fushimi slid a finger lightly from Misaki's wrist up his forearm, feeling the small fine hairs rise as he did, and shifted his hips back again, pressing against the hard bulge under his husband's underwear.
Another low, sleep-fogged hum was his response; Misaki's erection twitched against his backside, body shifting in even closer and fingers curling slightly.
Too easy. Also, it felt nice, evoking an unconscious action like that. Fushimi felt the familiar sharp tug of arousal as he shifted his hips back again, the length of Misaki's dick catching in the cleft of his ass - a firm, appealing source of friction beneath the fabric that separated them. It was easier, then, to slide along it just a little ways, gently but deliberately mimicking the thrusting motion of sex.
Misaki moaned softly against his skin, hips jerking lazily, and Fushimi shut his eyes and sighed, savoring the slide of friction and the pleasant, accompanying ache in his groin. He was hard already in anticipation of Misaki spreading him open and thrusting inside - that sting and fullness and heat - and didn't particularly feel like drawing things out. He slid his hand down over his husband's fingers again, tilting his head back and murmuring, "Misaki..."
Misaki shifted behind him, the even rhythm of his breathing breaking with a sudden, long inhale. He stiffened very briefly, and then let out another soft, sleepy moan, curling slightly against Fushimi's back. "Sa... Saru..." The mumble came out throaty and only about halfway aware, but affected.
Fushimi hummed low in response and slid back again, drawing out a stuttered gasp as he rubbed against the hard bulge of Misaki's erection. The arm around him tightened almost reflexively, pressing their bodies even closer together. "Mm... f-fuck..." Misaki mouthed at the base of his neck, lips and tongue feeling hot against the sensitive skin, and thrust his hips forward lazily, drawing a moan out of both of them this time.
The tip of Fushimi's dick was leaking moisture, and it ached; unable to quite stand it, he guided Misaki's hand down, and felt his husband's breath catch and then quicken as his fingers curled to stroke obligingly through the slightly damp fabric of Fushimi's underwear.
The resulting surge of pleasure was a relief. "Misaki," Fushimi breathed, arching into the touch appreciatively and not bothering to hold back the little sound that escaped him as his husband thrust up against him from behind again.
"Saruhiko..." Misaki's voice had gone low and rough, almost a growl - which was typical when he was seriously turned on. He bit lightly at the junction of neck and shoulder, and Fushimi shuddered with the mix of pleasure and slight discomfort. "Fucking... hm... tease..."
"You... like it, though." He had enough presence of mind to grind back against Misaki's dick again, and got a stuttering moan in response. Misaki's fingers curled more firmly around him, stroking up strongly, and Fushimi tipped his head back, rendered momentarily breathless as little strands of sensation rippled through him like electricity.
His husband took the opportunity to plant wet, sloppy kisses up along the side of his neck. "Saru... Saruhiko..." There was a noticeable tremble in his frame. "Can I... Is it okay... ?"
"Mm." Rather than answering, Fushimi groped for the bottle he'd brought onto the bed earlier, offering it back over his shoulder.
There was a brief, startled pause before Misaki took it from him. "Fuck..." Fushimi could almost feel the smirk spreading on his husband's face with that. "I love you."
The words still set off that little 'ping' in his chest. "Getting sentimental already?" Fushimi murmured, in an instinctive attempt to cover it.
"Shut up." Misaki's answering tone was fond; he planted another lingering kiss at the back of Fushimi's neck, and slid his hand back a ways to pull down the waistband of Fushimi's underwear.
It was fortunate that they didn't have all that much clothing to remove, because it was hard to curb his impatience as it was. After a certain amount of shuffling - the bare minimum, really, since it didn't seem like Misaki was any more eager than he was to delay the main event - he heard the sound of the bottle top opening. From there, it was only a second or two of anticipation before Misaki's slicked fingers were probing with almost exaggerated care around the puckered hole at the base of his ass.
"Mmm." The little hum of approval that escaped him as the first digit slid into his body came out almost like a moan. Misaki's movements were slow and almost painstakingly gentle, that boundless affection coming through in each little motion. His fingers were warm enough that even the initial cold from the lube dispelled quickly enough, and Fushimi could just revel in the sensation.
More... "It's... fine already," he managed, biting his lip against a gasp as those fingers slid in even deeper. Not deep enough, though... not enough to touch all the places Misaki could reach when they were moving together. "Just... go ahead."
He could hear Misaki's breath hitch a little at that; after a split second of hesitation, there was a quick, heated kiss on his shoulder and then his husband's fingers left him. Fushimi breathed out slowly, already missing the feeling, and allowed himself a small smile at the unmistakable sound and quick movements behind him as Misaki prepared himself.
A slick hand found his hip, and then the tip of Misaki's dick was prodding at him, and his heart rate seemed to double as anticipation rose up at the back of his throat. "Okay?" Misaki asked him, voice rough and breathy.
Fushimi couldn't help a brief, amused little huff of breath at that. "You don't really have to ask."
"Yeah, yeah." The tone was too affected for a proper grumble, so that response seemed more like a kind of blissful affirmation. There was no chance to really consider it, regardless, because Misaki was already pushing into him, past the initial ring of resistance, and everything else kind of faded into unimportant background noise against the slick friction and the much-needed feeling of being filled that came along with it.
Sex with Misaki was always so deeply satisfying, it almost hurt.
Speaking of hurt... The initial entry still stung a bit, but there was something arousing about that small amount of pain. Fushimi let out a low, heartfelt whimper, his own dick already twitching before Misaki's had even slid all the way inside of him. Misaki's breath was hot and desperate against his shoulder, his fingers tightening on Fushimi's hip as he seated himself, trembling with the effort of restraining his own urges.
Even though I'd be fine if you didn't bother...
He couldn't say the intense amount of care directed at him was unappealing either, though. Misaki bit lightly at his shoulder again, sinking in all the way and hesitating for just a brief moment to allow Fushimi to adjust before pulling out and thrusting again, slow and lazy and deep.
The sensation tore a moan from Fushimi's throat again, and Misaki echoed it against the curve where his neck and shoulder met, low and throaty and unrestrained. He began to thrust in earnest, releasing some of that restraint from earlier as he chased his own satisfaction, and the catch and slide of his cock triggered pleasure signals that seemed to reverberate all the way through Fushimi's body.
He didn't bother to hold back the cry that escaped him, arching his back in helpless response. Yes... like this... "Misaki..." From this angle, his prostate wasn't quite being hit, but the head of Misaki's cock teased it with each thrust, and the mingled feel of that fleeting pleasure and the increasingly heated open-mouthed kisses being planted on his neck were coming close to driving him insane.
"Saruhiko," Misaki all but breathed out, voice pitched low and drawn out - the way it always got when he was helplessly caught up in the moment. The hand that had rested on Fushimi's hip slid forward to grip his cock again, stroking firmly in time with the thrusting from behind.
The influx of sensation was enough to push him to the breaking point. Fushimi stiffened and cried out as the tension flooding his body peaked and he spilled himself over Misaki's hand and his own lower abdomen. The waves of pleasure that surged up from his groin had him shuddering helplessly in Misaki's arms, hips jerking in reflex as his husband continued to jerk him off right through his orgasm.
He was just coming down from it, breathing heavily in the aftermath, when Misaki made a strangled noise against his throat and thrust deeply, cock twiching and the rest of his body trembling as he released within Fushimi's body.
Ah, yes... there it is...
"Fuck..." The expulsion was breathless, but heartfelt; Misaki slumped against his back, ducking a bit so that his forehead rested on Fushimi's shoulder. "Morning," he added, after a second of just breathing, voice muffled slightly.
Typical. Fushimi made a faint, derisive noise, shifting a little so that his husband's softening cock slid out of him. He was becoming aware of the sore points on his body now - most of which felt somehow satisfying in the wake of his orgasm. They were definitely going to need to go wash. Eventually. "You're just saying that now?"
"Not like you gave me a chance earlier," Misaki shot back, fond exasperration in his tone. He snaked his arm around Fushimi's waist, drawing in closer. "That was kind of awesome, though. 'M not complaining."
The possessive hold was actually comforting, in a strange way. Fushimi closed his eyes, feeling like there were a few things hovering right on the tip of his tongue but having trouble letting them out properly. After a moment of struggling with it, he settled for a soft, mumbled, "Thanks."
There was a brief, startled pause behind him - and then he could practically hear the smile in Misaki's voice as he responded, "Any time."