Based on the following prompt from tumblr: i have a sinful request yet again.. sarumi having sex on a desk.. please and thanks great overlord brynne

“Is there something I can help you with, Yata?” Kusanagi asked. His tone was light but pointed; the look he offered over the bar had a wry edge. “Or are you just taking up a seat here out of boredom?”

“Eh?” Yata glanced up from the drink he’d been slouched over, turning his head to look at the rest of the room. “I’m not taking up anyone’s seat – there’s no one else even in here.”

Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone outside of their clan in the bar. When did the regular customers usually turn up?

Kusanagi sighed. “Not the point.” He moved to stand directly in front of where Yata was seated at the bar. “Everyone else left hours ago. It’s nearly two in the morning and you’re still sitting here, sulking. What’s the problem?”

Yata grimaced. “Not… really a problem.” He reached up without thinking to rub the back of his neck, feeling vaguely guilty. Damnit… I’m acting so lame about this. It’s not even really a big deal!

The problem was, he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of his mood – whatever that was. He wasn’t mad. He didn’t even feel irritable. It was just… Fuck, he didn’t know what. There was some kind of dull greyness in his head, like background noise across the audio track of his life. He felt like he’d been taken down a peg somehow, and couldn’t come up with the energy required to raise himself back up.

In short… it sucked.

And there’s no fucking reason! Well, no real reason. Nothing that wasn’t him being stupid about nothing.

“Ah.” Kusanagi nodded, as if Yata’s half-assed response explained everything. “Something to do with Fushimi then, isn’t it?”

How the hell did he guess that from what I said? It was kind of irritating. Yata scowled, slouching further and half-turning out of the path of that knowing gaze. Of course it’s always about Saruhiko. So what else is new?

Somehow, when they’d become friends again – when they’d started dating, even – he’d had this stupid idea that things would be less complicated between them. Ha-fucking-ha.

“Well, you don’t have to explain it to me – even if you are sitting in my bar all the way until closing without doing anything.” There was an obvious note of amusement in Kusanagi’s voice. “It might help to talk it out, though. Just a thought.”

It was a well-meaning thought, but the idea of spelling his current mess out was daunting. Yata turned back, trying to summon up his usual grin. “Nah, it’s cool. This is kinda dumb, anyway. I’ll be over it in no time!”

He really would be – actually, he was going to have to be. It wasn’t like Saruhiko… Well, rather, he shouldn’t expect Saruhiko to have to deal with this. It was his own damn problem. Plus, Saruhiko wasn’t good at emotional stuff. And seriously, Yata knew that going into this – it wasn’t like he’d been blindsided by it. He could handle being the one who dealt with all the ‘feelings’ crap.

It was nothing new. It was normal.

… He seriously needed to just get over it already!

“Normally I’d have to agree with you there,” Kusanagi commented mildly. He braced himself on his hands behind the bar, arms wide. “You haven’t been acting like yourself for nearly a week now, Yata. To be blunt, you should think about talking. Not to me. To Fushimi.”

Damnit. That might have been true, but things weren’t that simple. Yata shifted restlessly in his seat. “I can handle it myself,” he responded, trying for easy confidence. It came out sounding defensive even to his own ears. “Saruhiko’s not exactly…” He waved a hand. “You know. He’s Saruhiko.”

And that was the point, right there. Yata knew at least the outside edge of what Saruhiko had dealt with – was still dealing with, actually, trying to properly fill in the cracks and learn to accept affection and even sometimes, warily, give it back. Those moments were so precious, when Saruhiko managed to lower his walls and give Yata some glimpses of his honest self. He was seriously trying. And Yata was honestly, truly okay with how things were.

The fact that Saruhiko had not once, in the entire six months they’d been dating, been the one to hit Yata up for sex shouldn’t even register.

It definitely shouldn’t have started to simmer at the back of his mind when they were actually having sex. And it really shouldn’t have been a blow to his confidence every time Saruhiko wasn’t in the mood when Yata was. It didn’t need to result in a complete goddamn blackout on asking for sex at all.

Fuck…

Saruhiko was really into it when they did it. That should’ve been enough! There was no reason for Yata to feel unwanted. It was stupid to have any sense of rejection. He shouldn’t be so self-conscious about it. It was just… bullshit.

And that wasn’t even touching on how he’d snapped at Saruhiko to “fucking do something about it yourself – if you even really want it” over a complaint about their bed being cold. What the hell did that even have to do with anything? What was wrong with him?

It had been almost two days, and they hadn’t so much as held hands since.

… He had no right to be hurt that Saruhiko was acting like he didn’t even really care, either.

They hadn’t felt so distant from each other since they’d first started patching up their broken friendship. It really sucked. The fact that he had no one to blame but himself just made things worse.

Kusanagi sighed again, and when Yata looked up at him, he had a rueful smile on his face. “Let me give you a word of advice, Yata,” he said. “I’ve had a few relationships in my time and – “

“Huh, really?” Yata blinked, not really thinking about it. “I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

Kusanagi cleared his throat, leaning forward with a strangely ominous glint in his eyes behind the dark glasses. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it.”

“… Ah.” Okay, that was probably not a good sign. Yata forced out a bit of a nervous laugh. “Right. Nothing. S’not important.”

“Glad to hear it.” Kusanagi backed off a little, easing the tension. “Now, as I was saying… One thing I’ve noticed in any relationship is that you can’t have one person doing it all. Won’t work.”

That was it? Yata relaxed, waving a careless hand. “No need to worry, Kusanagi-san! We’ve split the rent, you know – and Saruhiko’s actually doing some of the chores here and there, when he’s not working overtime or something like that.”

Kusanagi shook his head. “Not what I meant. You’re the kind of person who wants to take care of everything, I get it. That’s admirable, really. But you’re not infallible, Yata. You can’t keep being the emotional caretaker forever – you’ll exhaust yourself.”

He couldn’t help but bristle a little at that, feeling stung. “I can handle things just fi – “

“Yata.” That came with a level stare. “I’m not telling you what to do. You can make your own mistakes – and history will bear me out on that. All I’m saying is that you might want to think about making sure you’re getting taken care of once in a while yourself.”

Something about that struck home. Yata frowned, turning his gaze down to his drink as he considered it. True, he did take care of Saruhiko a lot. He liked to, though. There was something satisfying about being able to provide stability for the most important person in his life. Saruhiko was talented and smart and – honestly – amazing, but he hadn’t had much love in his world. Yata wanted to make up for that as best he could. Slowly coaxing his affection-starved boyfriend to accept and trust the bond between them felt like a path he was meant to walk. It was like he fell more in love every time he got a sincere smile or Saruhiko leaned into his touch or they locked eyes and shared some kind of understanding.

Can’t help it, huh? A little of the anxiety in Yata’s head started to ease off. That’s right – I love Saruhiko. That’s all we need, right? I can get through this no problem!

“Don’t worry about me, Kusanagi-san!” Feeling a bit more spirited, Yata pushed his chair away from the bar, standing up with purpose. “I’ve got everything under control!” He didn’t even have to force the grin that came with that. “Just wait!”

“Ah – right…” Kusanagi settled back, looking strangely resigned. “I could use a cigarette,” he murmured, almost under his breath.

“Eh?” Yata frowned at him, a bit puzzled. “Like, right now? Why?”

Kusanagi’s fingers twitched, just a bit. “Never mind.”

---

The air outside was crisp when Yata left the bar – not overly cold, but it had a definite bite to it once he’d hopped on his skateboard and was cruising along the dark, mostly deserted streets of Shizume City. It was late – just past two in the morning, as Kusanagi had pointed out – but he didn’t really feel like going home quite yet.

Saruhiko was pulling an all-nighter at Scepter 4, so it wasn’t like there was much to go home to, anyway.

Maybe I’ll give him a call. With his fresh resolve, it kind of seemed like a good idea. Yata frowned to himself, slowing his pace. It probably was a good idea. With that habit of Saruhiko’s, he might be thinking negative thoughts about how things were between them. It was better to get that kind of crap taken care of quickly, so it didn’t have a chance to fester in his mind. Yata could just call and say ‘hey, I missed you’. Maybe Saruhiko even needed a break, and they could go grab take-out together. Or just… something.

Why the hell was he being so stupid and hesitant about all this? The frown on Yata’s face shifted to a scowl; he kicked off the ground with more aggression, speeding up again. Somehow, he still felt reluctant to stop and make the call, despite all the good reasons why he definitely needed to do it.

I’m gonna have to eventually. Maybe not a call, and maybe not tonight, but soon, that was for sure. It’s not like Saruhiko will –

His PDA abruptly buzzed against his wrist.

Huh. Did I forget something at the bar? Yata shifted his weight and kicked his skateboard to a halt, raising his hand to check the caller ID. He couldn’t think why anyone else would call at this time…

… until he saw the familiar characters for ‘Fushimi Saruhiko’ flash up.

For a brief moment he just stood there staring at his PDA, feeling his skin prickle up and a funny little thrill spark to life somewhere in the general region of his stomach – and almost ended up letting the call go to voicemail. At the last second, he recovered enough to hastily hit the accept button and tried for a careless greeting of, “Hey!”

It came out sounding weird, a little too high-pitched and anxious. Yata mentally cursed himself.

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end, and he could hear it as Saruhiko took in a breath. “Misaki.”

Why the fuck is this so awkward? It was annoying. “What’s up?”

Across the line he could hear the sound of Saruhiko’s tongue clicking, although he had no idea why. “Are you free right now?”

That little thrill from before seemed to intensify by about a factor of ten. Yata swallowed. “Y-yeah.” It came out sounding strangely uncertain, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m free! You need me for something?”

Another funny little pause. “Something like that,” Saruhiko muttered back, almost as if he didn’t intend for Yata to hear it. He raised his voice again to add, “Can you come here?”

“Huh? There?” Yata blinked at the holographic screen in front of him. “You mean, like, there there?” He rushed on without giving his boyfriend the chance to make a sarcastic comment. “That… the Blue headquarters?”

“Yes, that would be the ‘here’ I was referring to.” The response came back in that familiar drawl, laced with condescension – but there was a kind of edge to it that Yata couldn’t place. It sounded almost… nervous. Why would he be nervous, though? “If you don’t want to, then I’ll just – “

“I want to!” Yata blurted, in immediate response to the little prickle of alarm that came with those words. “I want to, okay?” he repeated, forcing himself to calm down a little. He wasn’t about to pass up on this, when Saruhiko had actually called for him. “I just left the bar, so give me a bit – I’ll head there right now.”

There was another moment of noticeable silence. Then… “I’ll meet you at the gate,” Saruhiko responded shortly, and disconnected.

Yata stared at his PDA for several long, confused seconds. “What’s that about?” he muttered under his breath, furrowing his brow and scowling at the blank surface of the watch as if it could somehow give him an answer.

He couldn’t figure out why, but somehow, that whole conversation just felt… off.

Whatever. After a brief moment of wracking his brain trying to pick apart what they’d said, he gave up and dropped his skateboard back to the ground, hopping back on and kicking off with casual ease. At the very least, Saruhiko had called him up and asked to see him. At two in the morning, in the middle of working, and right in front of his workplace, he wanted to meet up. Yata felt the smile forming on his face, and didn’t bother to hold it back even as it broke into a grin, feeling like his spirits had just gotten another boost. His heart was beating fast in his chest, lighter and more energetic than before, and he had the strangest impression that if he propelled himself forward fast enough, he could lift off and fly.

Figuring out the rest could definitely wait.

---

As promised, Saruhiko was waiting at the gate in front of Scepter 4 headquarters when Yata rolled up to it, leaning against one of the pillars on the opposite side and almost hidden by the shadow it cast. He stepped forward just before Yata came to a halt, and they met somewhere in the middle, separated by the metal bars that blocked the building off from the rest of the city.

How come he’s still inside? Usually when they met here, Saruhiko would wait just outside the gate and they’d immediately head off to wherever they were going (which, these days, was mostly just right back to the apartment they shared). It was kind of weird that he wouldn’t do that this time.

Well, whatever – it wasn’t really important. “Hey!” Yata greeted, grinning with an enthusiasm he didn’t have to fake. He kicked up his skateboard and tucked it under his arm as he approached the gate. “Here I am, just like I said! What’s up?”

Saruhiko met his gaze, eyes looking curiously hooded behind his glasses. He seemed paler and thinner than usual in the dim lighting, and he wasn’t smiling, but the sight of him somehow caused Yata’s heart to squeeze a little in his chest. It felt like he hadn’t seen Saruhiko in ages. In reality, they’d eaten and gone to bed together just last night, but somehow, right now, in the poor lighting behind the bars of Scepter 4’s gates, it felt like he was really seeing Saruhiko. That fine-boned face and its faintly irritable expression were so familiar and held so closely in his heart that having them in front of his eyes at that moment was like breathing clean air after being trapped in a haze of smog.

Well, yeah, he’s beautiful, right? I know that. Yata tried to tuck those feelings back down, not wanting to look like a lovesick idiot over nothing. It was like he’d gone back to those early days of dating again, full of nervous energy and anxious, almost painfully overwhelming infatuation. He kind of wanted to reach out for Saruhiko right then, and if he wasn’t so uncertain about how the gesture would be received, he probably would’ve.

Saruhiko drew in a quick breath then, and abruptly broke the mood. “I need something from you.”

“Eh?” Yata blinked, not quite managing to connect the cool non-greeting with the mood he’d been constructing in his head. “You… huh…?”

A sharp exhale and a click of Saruhiko’s tongue were his response. “I can see you’re in top form tonight,” Saruhiko murmured, his eyes fixed on Yata’s face with a peculiar intensity. “Should I repeat myself?”

“Shut up!” Yata snapped back – an automatic response to the condescending tone, more than anything. “I heard you.” His head was still swirling with confusion, unsure of what kind of action to take in this situation. Saruhiko’s eyes and his mouth seemed to be telling completely opposite stories, and he didn’t know which one he was supposed to respond to. He knew which one he wanted to respond to, but if he ended up being wrong (and that wasn’t unlikely, all things considered), he’d look like an idiot. But if he was right…

Goddamnit – why can’t things ever be easy with you, Saruhiko?

In the end, perhaps inevitably, his pride decided it for him. Yata let his mouth turn down into a scowl, hefting his skateboard irritably. “So? What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you inside,” Saruhiko responded, but didn’t move to open the gate. His eyes narrowed a bit as if in challenge. “That is, assuming you’ll come in.”

“In there?” Yata stared back incredulously. Are you fucking kidding me? The Blues’ headquarters, in the middle of the night? For real? “Wha…? The hell…? Just…” He sputtered for a moment, torn between shock and outrage, before blurting out, “Why?“

Saruhiko clicked his tongue again, crossing his arms and leaning back on his heels, as if to put some distance between them. His mouth tightened, turning down at the corners. “If you don’t want to, then feel free to leave.”

Somehow, that response was kind of irritating. Yata felt an eyebrow twitch. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t, just – “

“You’re coming in, then?” Saruhiko interrupted coolly.

“Don’t just cut me off!”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, turning his head with a kind of stubborn discontent. “Don’t say so many useless things,” he muttered back, almost sullenly. “Are you coming or not?”

This guy… Yata studied his boyfriend’s profile with a certain amount of agitation. Something about the moody response felt nostalgic, and he wasn’t sure if it was in a good way. It reminded him of too many times when Saruhiko was being dishonest with one or both of them. I guess it’s still impossible for him to be totally honest, anyway. He let out a long breath, trying to push out the rest of his frustration along with it. “You need me for something, right?” He reached up to scrub at the back of his head with his free hand, just under the fabric of his hat. “Well… I came all this way, so I might as well at least hear you out.”

Saruhiko turned his head to meet Yata’s gaze again, expression unreadable. Somehow, even without understanding what was going on, looking into his eyes caused a little twinge of something both painful and pleasant to turn in Yata’s chest.

“I’ll open the gate, then.”

Right. A twinge of something completely different and not pleasant at all came with that. Going inside. To Scepter 4’s headquarters.

Whatever, I can handle this. Yata straightened. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been there before. He’d been inside the place a couple of times, actually. No big deal. But… honestly, it was rare to get an invitation like this. And he wasn’t too sure how he felt about it, wandering casually into Saruhiko’s workplace in the middle of the night. It seemed a little weird.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do it, of course. He wasn’t afraid of a goddamn building. “Yeah, fine. Let’s go!”

Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at the half-hearted show of enthusiasm, but didn’t comment.

Two minutes later, they were walking through the front door of the building, and the nervous tension that Yata hadn’t wanted to admit to feeling suddenly hit him full-force. Scepter 4’s office building was ridiculously extravagant – like some kind of huge mansion, or a palace or something. Well… at least the way he kind of imagined a mansion or a palace might look. Despite the fact that most of the lights were out and a lot of the finer details weren’t visible, it seemed like a place that was elaborate, massive and pristine. Even the pillars looked like they were sparkling in the moonlight.

Pretty fucking fancy for government workers…

Saruhiko led the way to his workplace in silence, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly in the still air, and Yata took the opportunity to focus on his back rather than the totally-not-intimidating inside of the building. The atmosphere felt tense, and he didn’t think it was just his own sense of unease at not fitting in with his surroundings. Saruhiko looked like he was on edge somehow, although Yata wasn’t really sure what was giving him that impression. It was making him a little nervous.

Not like he expected anything bad to happen, obviously. More than that, there was a coil of anticipation winding up tightly in the pit of his stomach, partly anxious and partly excited. Saruhiko had invited him there – Saruhiko needed him for something. Even without knowing what that something was, it was gratifying.

The feeling stayed with him through the door into the room where Saruhiko worked – a room he sort of vaguely remembered; it wasn’t like he paid a lot of attention to the place when he was here. There were a few empty tables with closed laptops just past the long, curved rows of neatly separted “cubicles” (or whatever they were; they kind of reminded him of the study cubicles in the library at school, way back in the day). The monitors that were set on the far wall and up along the edge of the ceiling were blank, either switched off or in sleep mode, and the lighting was dimmed.

Then again, the last time Yata had been in the room it was the middle of the day and they had the windows for light, so maybe it was just always like this.

It also felt oppressively quiet. “What, you’re just here by yourself?” he asked, more to fill the silence than because he was really surprised. Even now, Saruhiko had a stubborn tendency to spend stupid amounts of time doing things on his own instead of just trusting his comrades to help out.

“Obviously,” Saruhiko resonded in that cool, drawling tone, turning unexpectedly once he’d shut the door behind them to walk along the line of desks at the back instead of heading for the tables in front. “You can just leave your skateboard at the door.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was no reason to argue with that. Yata leaned it against the wall just inside the room and followed after his boyfriend, more curious with every passing second. There wasn’t even anything back here – in fact, the desk that Saruhiko had stopped at, right far end of the back row, didn’t have anything on it. “So what d’you need me for, anyway?”

Saruhiko didn’t answer him right away. In fact, Saruhiko wasn’t quite looking at him – his body was angled towards Yata, but his gaze was trained on the desk next to him, narrow-eyed and accompanied by a frown, as if he was seriously considering his response. There was also no chair next to the desk, Yata noticed as he stepped up to it, which was odd. The rest of the row was neat and consistent, all chairs pushed in, the same items sitting on the tops in pretty much exactly the same places – to the point where he kind of wondered if they were holgraphically generated by a computer as a decoration, to achieve that kind of perfect symmetry.

All except for that last one, which was empty and had no chair pushed in next to it, as if it had been cleared out purposefully.

Maybe it had. Did that have something to do with why he was here? Yata couldn’t for the life of him make a connection. He hadn’t used a desk since he’d left middle school. “Oi,” he started to grumble, a little irritated with the way the silence was stretching out. “Are you going to answer me, or what?”

Saruhiko turned his head, regarding Yata through eyes that were now not so much narrow as half-lidded, and a spark of… something… sprang to life in Yata’s stomach, tense and fierce. He swallowed hard, feeling like there might have been a little ‘oh’ in the back of his mind even as the rest of him struggled sluggishly to catch up. There was still no verbal response, but the irritation had drained right out of Yata’s body, the atmosphere between them taking on a different kind of awkwardness – tense and thick and painfully sweet.

He hadn’t quite caught up enough to form a reaction, but it seemed like Saruhiko’s face was closer than he’d thought – or maybe it was actually moving closer now. Maybe it was him leaning in, drawn to the presense behind that gaze with every little fragment of his being.

Yata let his eyes flutter shut, more out of habit than any kind of conscious choice. Even as he raised his face, tilting the angle of it in automatic accommodation for what was coming, still a weak little thought protested, There’s no way he would actually…

Their lips brushed, and that thought went silent, drowned by the sudden rushing in his ears. Yata’s skin prickled, the fine hairs rising on his arms as Saruhiko pressed in with a kind of cautious care, seating his bottom lip against the inward curve of Yata’s. Warmth was already growing in the small space between their faces, a combination of shared body heat and breath.

It wasn’t all that unusual for Saruhiko to initiate a kiss, but it wasn’t usually out of nowhere like this – and it felt like it had been a long time since the last one. Yata’s brain seemed to have blanked out, but the rest of him was very aware of every little sensation. The soft give of Saruhiko’s lips against his own. The loud catch and release of their breathing. The gradually quickening pace of his heart thudding against its confines. Saruhiko shifted back, readjusting, and Yata chased him without thought, egged on by the flurry of nerves and fragmented want building behind his chest.

Too long… Way too long since the last time.

Saruhiko raised a hand to cup the side of his neck, sliding it almost hesitantly back to tangle the fingers in his hair. The light contact left a trail of tingling cool along Yata’s skin, and he shivered involuntarily, a small unconscious sound escaping him as he instinctively pushed up into the kiss in response.

It was that sound that snapped him out of the haze – the faint, pleased sound that he’d just made, into the silence that filled the room. The room that Saruhiko worked in. In Scepter 4. The Blue Clan.

The room in the middle of the fucking Blue Clan’s headquarters.

Yata abruptly jerked his head to the side, shock and embarrassment rushing over him in a wave. “Wh-Wh-Wha… What the hell?” he managed to blurt out. Saruhiko’s fingers had caught in the bottom part of his hair as his head moved, pulling it a bit, and he was struck by an unexpectedly vivid memory of it being pulled with a lot more force as his mouth was very occupied with Saruhiko’s… that. Fuck. Yata felt prickling heat spreading across his body and up over his neck, flooding his face as he tried to force those thoughts out of his head. “We – we can’t just do this kind of stuff here, dumbass!”

Can we? That hopeful, traitorous little voice in his head was immediately and violently shoved down.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “You didn’t seem to care earlier,” he mumbled, and when Yata glanced back in his direction, he was frowning with a kind of stubborn intensity, eyes still narrow and pupils blown wide behind the shield of his glasses.

It was the kind of look that meant only good things. Yata swallowed, uneasy and vaguely embarrassed about the beginning twinges of arousal pinging up from the lower half of his body. “I-it’s not like I mind or anything,” he muttered, resisting the urge to look away and trying to cover his weakness up with a scowl instead. “But… urgh. Whatever.” He gave up on that awkward line of thinking, raising a hand with the intent of scratching at the back of his head and catching it halfway in a clumsy hover when it registered that Saruhiko’s fingers were still there, tangled securely in his hair while his palm rested on Yata’s neck. It sent another hot flush up to his cheeks. “A-Anyway.” He cleared his throat, forging ahead stubbornly. “You’ve got something you want me to do, right? What is it?”

Saruhiko’s stare seemed to flatten out; there was a long, telling silence.

What’s with that reaction? “Can’t be that bad – spit it out already.” Yata shifted on his feet, on edge from the charged atmosphere between them. They were close enough that he was breathing in Saruhiko’s familiar scent, and it wasn’t helping with pushing back the desire forming at his core. “You didn’t just bring me in here to fool around, so let’s get to it.”

More silence. The corner of Saruhiko’s eye gave a little twitch, like a nervous tic.

A kind of impossible understanding was starting to take shape in Yata’s brain. “… Wait. No way… You brought me here to…”

Saruhiko made another soft ‘tch’ and shifted his gaze, frown deepening. There was the barest hint of a flush visible on his pale cheeks.

“Eh…” Yata blinked – once, then again – and then it hit him. “Hah?” He stared back incredulously. There was no way… No fucking way… “Are you serious? You seriously want to do it? Here? For real?” This had to be a dream. A dream he was going to wake up from with a very awkward boner, if the immediate little twitch of interest his cock gave was any indication. He didn’t want to think too hard about what that said about him. “D-don’t fucking mess with me, you – “

The fingers in his hair tightened briefly, and Yata momentarily lost his train of thought. Saruhiko was still stubbornly avoiding his eyes, tension visible up the line of his jaw. His mouth tightened, and then he closed his eyes and clicked his tongue again. “If you don’t want to, just say so.”

Somehow, that low mutter caught him off-guard. Yata sucked in a breath, trying to catch his scrambled wits and put them into some sort of order. This is real. Saruhiko had brought him into his work area in Scepter 4’s headquarters to… to have sex with him, probably, and the fact that he’d just walked in and led him straight up to a specific location meant he’d fucking planned it down to the spot in the room where he wanted to do it.

Yata wasn’t totally prepared for the rush of arousal that flooded through him as that realization hit; he squirmed a little, face growing hot yet again. Not that he’d particularly wanted to do it here, but… the idea of Saruhiko planning it out like that was exciting as hell. Also, fucking unbelievable. Seriously, if he were to somehow travel back in time to twenty minutes ago and tell himself this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have ever been able to make his past self believe it.

And based on Saruhiko’s reaction… Yata studied his boyfriend’s face for a few long seconds. The deep frown, the little hint of a waver in his eyes when he opened them again – still not looking in Yata’s direction – and the edge of red along his cheekbones…

He’s pushing himself, right?

Something within him seemed to melt a little with that, although he wasn’t totally sure why. The idea was deeply satisfying in a way he didn’t really understand.

It felt… good.

Yata swallowed, nervous excitement churning in his stomach. “You… You’re alone here, right?” He shifted again, feeling awkward about it. “I mean, no security guard’s gonna come in or anything, are they?”

Saruhiko’s gaze shifted back to regard him, expression guarded. “No one else is here.”

Right. Yeah. Yata glanced at the monitors on the walls suspiciously. “Don’t you have – I dunno – cameras or whatever in this – ?”

“I’ve already set them on a feedback loop,” Saruhiko cut him off, tone drawing out again. Some of the wariness had softened out of his eyes when Yata turned to look at him again. “As far as any footage is concerned, there’s no one in this room right now.”

We’re alone, Yata’s brain registered. And no one else knows we’re here. A warm shudder ran through him, and he could see by the shift in Saruhiko’s expression that his reaction wasn’t going unnoticed. No one’s gonna know. He cleared his throat, trying to flush out the lingering traces of embarrassment. “So there’s no way someone might decide to come look for you or – ?”

“Misaki.” The name came out as practically a sigh; at the same moment, the hand on his neck slid a little higher, thumb brushing feather-light along the corner of his jaw. For a brief moment, Saruhiko’s eyes seemed to waver, and then he was leaning in and kissing Yata with unexpected fervor.

It was a move he probably should’ve anticipated, but somehow Yata found himself tensing with surprise, little pin-pricks running along the skin at his collar. A small noise escaped his throat without his conscious consent, mixed bewilderment and excitement behind it. Saruhiko’s tongue slid along the line where Yata’s upper and bottom lip met, and he parted them without pausing to consider it, a small, corresponding ache stirring between his legs as he felt the slick heat of Saruhiko’s mouth open to him, connecting with his own. He pushed back into it, reaching out without thinking to slide his arms around that slender waist and draw himself in closer.

The touch of Saruhiko’s body against his was like fire hotter than anything his aura had generated. Yata moaned into his boyfriend’s mouth, the circle of his arms tightening instinctively as tendrils of arousal coiled together in his belly. He was already about half-hard just from thinking about all of this, which he was no doubt going to get teased about, but that didn’t seem important right at the moment. All that mattered right then was what they were doing, and what they were going to do.

They broke apart mutually after several long, heated moments, both breathing heavily into the meagre space between them and staring at each other through lidded eyes from bare inches away. Yata’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, laced with anxious want, and somehow he found himself babbling, uselessly, “The door’s shut, right? That – the only door? The only way into this r – ?”

Saruhiko kissed him again, cutting him off ruthlessly, and then pulled back just far enough that Yata managed to mumble, “Wait – just -” before he pressed in a second time – then a third, and a fourth; brief moments of fierce need that had Yata’s head spinning.

It wasn’t like Saruhiko never took the lead – he was actually pretty aggressive in bed most of the time, once they got going. But this felt different from the usual. It was like the first time they’d done it (minus the awkward fumbling) – that sharp sense of this is new, this is exciting. Yata gave up trying to talk and clenched his fingers in the fabric of Saruhiko’s coat as his boyfriend’s other hand slid into his hair, tipping his head back into another deep kiss and dislodging his hat, which dropped carelessly to the floor behind him. He felt like his brain was packed with a raging mass of desires he couldn’t properly sort out, and he didn’t want to start. Didn’t want to push for anything in particular – just ride this wave and take in everything.

Somehow, that was the one thing he did manage to clearly identify, blazing like an inferno at his core: the absolute need to be seduced into this rather than push his own agenda. He didn’t know where that came from, but he wanted it so badly he was starting to tremble with the force of his own feelings.

I don’t care how we do it. Saruhiko pulled back, the rhythm of his breathing uneven, and Yata had to violently suppress the urge to push right up after him and thoughtlessly chase the contact. Right then, he’d have dropped to his knees without thinking twice if Saruhiko said ‘I want a blowjob’. Just tell me what you want, goddamnit!

The hand at the back of his head dropped to the middle of his back, just beneath his shoulder blades, and suddenly he was being manuevered sharply to the right and backwards, stumbling over his own feet in a hasty effort to keep up. “Shit! What the – ?” The edge of the desk he’d nearly forgotten about hit the back of his thighs, just below his ass, and then one of Saruhiko’s legs wedged between his as its owner leaned in close again.

… or push me around – fucking fine, you jerk. Whatever. Their foreheads pressed together, heated gazes meeting once again across that short distance. Fingers curled at the back of his neck, and despite everything, Yata found the corners of his mouth pulling back in a smirk. “Just how long have you been – hn” – the thought was momentarily interrupted by a sharp spike of sensation as Saruhiko rubbed his thigh sinuously against the bulge at Yata’s crotch; he gasped, jerking a little in automatic response – “th-thinking about this?”

For a moment, Saruhiko just stared at him, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed, and then he let out a shaky-sounding breath and pulled back just enough to allow himself space to lean over and bring his lips close to Yata’s ear. “I think about you all the time,” he mumbled, and the combination of the rare confession and his warm breath brushing against the sensitive skin there caused Yata to shiver with another rush of helpless want. “It never stops.”

Finding the words to respond to that disarming bit of raw honesty was beyond him at the moment; Yata shut his eyes, unable to manage anything beyond a little grunt of acknowledgement. It felt like he could choke on the well of emotion rising at the back of this throat; it had been ages since the two of them had felt so close – so in sync.

He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it until now.

It didn’t seem like Saruhiko expected a response from him anyway; he nibbled delicately at the fleshy part of Yata’s ear, pulling it into the warmth of his mouth and sucking lightly before releasing it with a deliberate little wet pop that was nearly as arousing as the actual sensation. Yata tilted his head obligingly as Saruhiko moved to kiss down his neck, growing increasingly sloppy and open-mouthed as he neared the bottom slope. His tongue lathed over the sensitive skin, and Yata squirmed a bit in response.

He knew what was coming, but despite that, his breath still hitched, body jerking in reaction as Saruhiko drew his mouth lazily over the area his tongue had just covered and then sucked. This was something that seemed to turn him on a lot, leaving marks and having marks left on him. Yata didn’t know if there was a deeper meaning than just how it felt physically, but the physical side of it was damn good, more than enough to make up for the inconvenience of covering any marks left in places that were normally visible. Letting himself get carried away by suction and heat and the corresponding ache in his body, he tightened his arms around Saruhiko’s waist and thrust forward, gasping at the additional rush of sensation as he gained friction against his partner’s leg.

Saruhiko moaned into his neck, low and throaty, and Yata felt a little thrill at the unmistakeable press of an erection against his hip. His own cock was fully hard now, straining against his shorts, and he couldn’t help but make another little jerking motion forward, rubbing up shamelessly against Saruhiko’s thigh in search of more pleasure.

He got a sharp nip in response, right on the same over-sensitive spot from before. “You’re too impatient, Misaki,” Saruhiko murmured, pulling back just enough that his lips still brushed over Yata’s skin as he spoke. “This will be over before we even get started if you keep that up.”

“Shut up,” Yata muttered back, cracking his eyes open just slightly. He thrust forward to bring his body into contact with his partner’s erection once more, defiantly. “Let’s get started already, then – come on.”

“Like I said…” Saruhiko sighed, pulling back with seeming reluctance from Yata’s neck. “You’re too impatient.” He let his lashes veil his eyes behind the glass lenses, lips parted and face downturned – one of those looks that never failed to kick Yata’s heartbeat up to a frenzied pace. “Let’s enjoy this for longer.”

Another little spike of arousal jolted through him at that; Yata swallowed, feeling hot all over. “What?” he managed, voice only a little bit unsteady. “Got some kinda plan or something?”

“Who knows.” Those words came in a breezy, almost careless tone; the corners of Saruhiko’s mouth tipped up in a lazy little smile. Without leaving time for a snarky comeback, he freed both hands to reach down and grasp the hem of both the shirt and undershirt covering Yata’s torso, pulling them up to his collar. “We might as well get these out of the way, regardless.”

It was a step in the right direction; Yata slid his own arms back to take over the task without protest, pulling both shirts over his head carelessly as Saruhiko rid himself of his coat, and then moving to help with the buttons on his boyfriend’s vest and dress shirt as well. His hands brushed warm skin as they hastily finished, and he lingered for a bit, tracing his eyes over the lines of lean muscle and following that same path with fingers that shook slightly.

He really is beautiful, huh?

Saruhiko dropped his shirt to the ground without seeming to care where it fell and leaned in without a pause, bringing their lips together again. It was a demanding kiss this time, hard and fast, ending before Yata’s brain completely caught up with it and leaving him reeling a bit as his partner pulled back.

“I want you,” Saruhiko mumbled, soft but fervent, staring at him with a certain burning intensity. “I want to touch you, Misaki.”

Yata felt his cock gave another pleasant little twitch within the confines of his shorts and underwear, a wave of heat flushing his body in the same instant. He breathed in, struggling not to lose it, and managed to croak out, “So… do it. Touch me.”

That seemed to be the trigger Saruhiko had been waiting for; he leaned in further, pressing Yata back against the desk and forcing him to lower his hands in order to keep himself upright as fingers brushed the line of his hips before moving down further, running tauntingly over the top of his thighs and prompting another contained little jerk of his pelvis. Yata bit his lip, breathing harshly through his nose while Saruhiko bent to kiss the joining point of his neck and shoulder, soft flicks of his tongue punctuating the press of lips against the sensitive skin.

The fingers at his hips were sliding upwards now, a light series of touches along the sides of his body as they made their way to his ribcage and over. Yata shivered again, and then a startled little moan escaped his throat as Saruhiko found and tweaked his nipples, that familiar little pleasure-just-shy-of-discomfort chord vibrating through him. He tipped his head back, writhing just a bit against the stimulation.

This was something they both liked, and he would’ve returned the favor if his arms weren’t busy supporting a good portion of his weight. Saruhiko didn’t seem to mind, pinching and rolling his fingers delicately, drawing out more pleased, helpless sounds as sensation started to drown out any reason in Yata’s mind. One of those busy hands disengaged, sliding warmly back down over his tense belly and past the zipper on his shorts, and Yata’s hips jerked forward into the promised friction without his conscious thought behind it.

“Sa… Saru…” he managed, voice a bit rough, and groaned loudly as his boyfriend’s hand closed around the outline of his dick, giving one firm stroke through the fabric that sent hot shudders over him before moving to work at the fastener of his shorts. They came open without issue, deft fingers steering deliberately clear of the hard bulge beneath as they worked, and Yata had to clench his teeth to rein in his frustration. “Don’t… tease,” he managed to grind out, and then gasped as his nipple was pinched with slightly more force than before.

Saruhiko pulled back, purposefully slow, and offered him a lazy smirk, spoiled only by the flush spread across his cheeks. “Your reactions are better if I draw this out,” he murmured.

Jerk. Yata frowned back, disgruntled and inwardly blazing with impatience. With his shorts open, the tent in his boxers was exposed, but that wasn’t doing anything to ease the insistent ache between his legs. “Drawing it out and teasing are totally different,” he muttered, shifting on his hands a bit restlessly. “You said you wanted to touch me, right? Stop fucking around.”

Saruhiko lowered his lashes again, offering another of those smoldering looks. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” Without any more warning than that, he lowered himself to his knees, not breaking the heated gaze between them even as he reached up to wrap his fingers around the waistband of Yata’s shorts and underwear. “Is this more like what you had in mind, Misaki?”

Yata swallowed hard, feeling his skin prickle up in anticipation. “G-getting there,” he managed, shifting to allow Saruhiko to slide his remaining clothing down to his ankles and then stepping free of it. No matter how many times they’d had sex – he wasn’t sure about the exact number, but it was a lot by now – it was still a little embarrassing to be standing there completely naked, with his erection standing up proudly in front of his partner’s face. He could feel his cheeks burn again, and tried not to think about exactly where they were doing this.

Their gaze broke as Saruhiko turned, reaching underneath the desk for something, and when he came back he had a familiar-looking bottle in his hand. Yata blinked at him as he turned it over and spread a generous helping of the contents onto his hand. “Oi… did you seriously bring that in to work from home?”

Saruhiko paused to raise an eyebrow at him. “Would you rather I used whatever I could find here? Hand sanitizer would probably burn.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Yata scowled down at him, tense and anxious, with the beginnings of a nervous excitement forming in his belly. “Did you… wait – I mean… seriously… did you plan this out before – before… ?”

“Hm.” The answer came out as sort of a low hum; Saruhiko lowered his eyelids, setting the bottle down and bending his face over Yata’s dick. “Something like that,” he drawled, hot breath brushing across it tantalizingly.

Yata’s stomach tightened, a veritable storm of emotion and arousal brewing within him. His fingers clenched against the edge of the desk as Saruhiko’s tongue brushed against the base of his cock, and he let out a little moan as it drew up along the shaft, slick and hot and promising. “Saruhiko…”

One of his boyfriend’s hands braced against his hip, pinning him back, just a second or two before Saruhiko’s mouth closed around the tip of his dick, sucking lightly. Yata groaned again, panting, knuckles straining as he fought the urge to bury his fingers in that familiar dark hair and pull that clever mouth down so he could bury himself in it. It felt good – so good; the beginning touch of pleasure – but it wasn’t enough, yet.

Saruhiko’s mouth lowered, taking more of him, and Yata had to glance down through slitted eyes to watch his cock sink in. The modestly closed eyes and the flush across that pale, delicately structured face gave the picture in front of him an even more lewd edge, and he nearly lost it right then, the combination of physical and visual stimulation clawing at the edges of his control.

Slick fingers pressed gently behind his balls, worming back to find the spot where he was pressed in against the desk, and then Saruhiko drew his mouth back a short ways and pulled Yata’s hips forward with his other hand, allowing himself space to slid back further and find the entrance to Yata’s body.

The dual sensation of his cock sinking deeper back into Saruhiko’s mouth while Saruhiko’s fingers teased the tight ring of muscle at his ass had Yata arching his back, letting out a helpless, gasping cry as his body responded to the pleasure signals that were triggered in response. His breath was already coming in short, frantic pants when his boyfriend slid one finger inside, wriggling just enough to generate a little of that familiar burn, and then pulled his mouth back again, tongue swiping almost lazily over the head of Yata’s dick.

It felt incredible. Yata moaned again, too affected to care how loud he was being, writhing with pleasure. The digit that had been teasing him from behind slid back, but before he had a chance to protest, two of Saruhiko’s long, slender fingers pushed up into him, increasing the friction and making little scissoring motions.

He was kind of tight – it had been over a week since they’d last done this – but the sharp sting that came with the stretch felt delicious when combined with the slick heat around the tip of his erection. Yata struggled to get his breathing back under control, trying to focus on Saruhiko’s face as his body was flooded with sensation. It didn’t really help much, especially as Saruhiko’s eyes slid open, regarding Yata hazily over the upper rim of his glasses. The raw, unguarded desire in them increased the intensity of everything he was feeling, and Yata couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped him at the sight, biting his lip instinctively.

Saruhiko closed his eyes and sucked, simultaneously penetrating with three fingers, and the resulting jolt had Yata arching again, body tense and trembling. He felt the telltale tightening in his gut, the fast build-up of pleasure, and managed to gasp out, “S-Saru… wait, I’m – I’ll – “

At once, both points of contact on his body retreated, and Yata breathed out in a long, shaky rush, eyes falling shut as he pulled back from the edge with mixed relief and reluctance. He wanted to come, but it was obvious now that Saruhiko was going to fuck him, and he wanted the tension and arousal that was built in his body to be there when it happened. It wouldn’t be the same at all if he came beforehand.

Doesn’t mean he’s right about the teasing thing, though.

Saruhiko’s lips brushed lightly over the jut of his hipbone, and Yata shuddered, opening his eyes and meeting his boyfriend’s heated gaze. He felt something stir in his chest, a blend of lust and affection, and was about to reach out with the intent of urging Saruhiko to his feet and back up into the circle of Yata’s arms when an unexpected sound had them both freezing up, all other thoughts momentarily vanishing.

Footsteps.

Fuck!

Yata’s skin immediately prickled up, in a much less pleasant way from before. Who the hell is that? He and Saruhiko exchanged a quick, almost horrified glance and then his boyfriend was turning his attention to the door, a frown on his face as his eyes narrowed. His fingers tightened on Yata’s hip.

No one was supposed to be here, right? Yata was suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that he was naked and practically sitting on one of Scepter 4’s work desks, with a full erection, lube in his ass, and Saruhiko’s face between his legs. His face started to burn. Shit! No way…

The footsteps paused just outside the door, and Yata held his breath, somehow clinging to the stupid notion that if they were quiet enough whoever it was would give up and leave. He was about half ready to set the fucking place on fire just to draw attention away long enough for them to get away before anyone saw what was happening.

Before some random co-worker of Saruhiko’s walked in and found him on his knees, half-naked and with an obvious bulge in his pants, lips red and swollen from sucking Yata off…

His cock gave a traitorous little twitch of approval at the thought, a tiny surge of arousal spiking up through his belly, and Yata felt his face grow even hotter, mortification seeping through his thoughts. No – no way…

What the hell was even wrong with him?

A soft shuffling from outside the door interrupted that humiliating moment of self-discovery, and the footsteps started up again – this time moving away from the door, brisk and steady, until they could no longer be heard.

Yata let out an explosive breath, sagging with relief. That was fucking close.

He didn’t really have a chance to collect himself, though, because almost as soon as he’d started to relax, Saruhiko surged up to his feet and tilted Yata’s face into a kiss, fierce and unforgiving. “I felt that,” he murmured, against Yata’s lips. “Do you have a hidden exhibitionist side, Misaki?”

“O-of course n – ” He didn’t even get a chance to finish stuttering a halfway-embarrassed protest, because Saruhiko was kissing him again almost desperately, fingers trembling a little against his face. Yata’s head started to spin, body still thrumming with desire – but that moment of complete panic was still too fresh in his memory to ignore. He broke away, turning his head to the side to avoid further temptation. “Wait – wait – what if that guy comes back?”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, clearly not pleased with the interruption. “He’s not coming back.”

“What makes you so sure?” Yata challenged, turning just enough to offer a narrow stare. “Anyway, you said there was no one here, so what the hell was that just now?”

The look he got back was almost sullen; it would’ve been cute under different circumstances. “I can’t always predict the Captain’s movements,” Saruhiko muttered back, with obvious reluctance.

Yata stared at him, feeling as if all the blood in his body had just turned into ice. “The… hold on… You just said ‘the Captain’ – that means… just now… the – the – the – “

“Ye~es, that would be the same Captain you’re thinking of,” Saruhiko drawled back, and clicked his tongue again, looking vaguely annoyed. “I’m going to be hearing about this later, too – at least you don’t work for him.”

“Th-th-this was your idea!” Yata sputtered back, indignant. The fucking Blue King just about walked in on us doing it! Just the idea of that was beyond unbelievable. And he definitely did not just get a little surge of satisfaction thinking about that smug bastard finding out that Saruhiko would happily service Yata in the middle of his own workplace. The thought, That’s right, he’s mine, didn’t go through his head at all.

His face was burning again; Yata scowled at Saruhiko to cover some of his embarrassment. “What are you going to do if he comes back, huh?”

“He won’t.” Saruhiko’s gaze was hooded now, less sullen and more… something that was making Yata’s heart start to flutter frantically in his chest again. “But maybe you’d like it if he did,” he added, leaning in closer and tracing one still-slicked finger from his other hand along the top of Yata’s thigh, “wouldn’t you, Misaki?”

That simple touch was enough to send a little shiver up his spine – Yata swallowed, trying to maintain his pride. “Wh-what the hell are you talking about? Of course I wouldn’t!”

“Hmm?” The finger brushed up against the shaft of his dick, and the rest of Saruhiko’s hand joined it, wrapping loosely around the base and sending little electric signals up through the rest of Yata’s body. The beginning of a smirk was tugging at the corners of his mouth; Yata only noticed it for a second before Saruhiko was leaning in to murmur the rest into his ear. “I didn’t just imagine that reaction from earlier.”

It was already becoming harder to think; the stimulation he’d received earlier hadn’t exactly faded, and Yata was keenly aware that it wasn’t going to take much to make him lose it. “Th-that was…” Saruhiko’s fingers closed firmly around his cock and stroked it, and Yata sucked in a breath, thoughts beginning to fragment.

Fuck it, he wanted this too badly – there was no way they were stopping now.

“It’s fine.” Saruhiko pulled back, locking gazes with him again, and this time there was no smirk or condescending look. He was quiet for a brief second, and something in his expression seemed to reflect hesitance. It was there and gone so quickly that Yata wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not. “It’s the same for me.” He lowered his hand from Yata’s face and pried Yata’s fingers from the edge of the desk, guiding them hastily to the hard lump in the front of his pants. “I sometimes feel like I want everyone to see,” he mumbled, eyes wavering slightly and voice just a bit unsteady, “that Misaki is mine.”

Something fierce and uncontrolled surged up at the back of Yata’s throat, nearly choking him. He let go of the other side of the desk, raising his hand to cup the back of Saruhiko’s neck and aggressively pull him down, bringing their lips together with force.

There was barely a second of hesitation, and then Saruhiko was responding with equal force, a small, desperate-sounding noise escaping him as he leaned into the kiss. Their mouths opened mutually, tongues coming together in a rush of slick, wet heat. It was that much more potent when combined with the sensation of their naked torsos brushing – the intimacy of warm, uncovered skin pressing together as they tried to get as close as possible. Saruhiko’s fingers spasmed slightly around Yata’s dick and then he swiped his thumb over the head, smearing the fluid that was beading there and drawing a clipped groan from Yata in response. His own hand curled more firmly around the shape of Saruhiko’s still-contained erection, insintively seeking to cause some reciprocal pleasure and feeling gratified when his boyfriend squirmed against him, letting out another little hum of approval.

That ‘still-contained’ part was starting to piss him off, though… Yata broke out of the kiss with effort, breathing heavily in the aftermath and trying to shrug off the dazed feeling that came with it. “Saruhiko,” he started, voice unsteady, and swallowed, trying again. “Just – ” He fumbled one-handed, trying to find the zipper. “Here – come on – “

He was interrupted by the clumsy press of lips on his, freezing up for a moment before pulling back – just long enough to gasp out a quick, “Wait,” before Saruhiko moved in again. Yata drew in a sharp breath through his nose, ready to shove him back or twist away, but hesitated as the sight of his partner’s expression came into focus – tightly closed eyes and rigid jawline, tense with obvious desperation. He could feel the rapid thrum of a heartbeat racing against his palm, where it had slipped from the back of Saruhiko’s neck towards the front, and softened, shutting his eyes and opening to the frantic attention.

They broke apart mutually after another long moment, just barely moving apart. “I want you,” Saruhiko breathed out, practically into his mouth, drawing out an almost unbearable ache in Yata’s chest. His tone was a little bit lost and uncertain but mostly wondering, as if he’d somehow surprised himself. “I want you, Misaki. Right now…”

There was still way too much separation between them. “Fuck,” Yata blurted out with feeling, freeing his other hand and reaching down to fumble desperately with the fastening on Saruhiko’s pants. “You can have me, goddamnit, just – just get these stupid things off first!”

This time, Saruhiko’s fingers joined his, popping the button loose and pulling the zipper down with haste. There was no other layer of cloth visible beneath, which meant he’d gone without underwear – Again, seriously; what the hell, Saruhiko? – and it was simple enough to tug the pants down over his erection. From there, he bent to pull them the rest of the way off, pausing for a second near the bottom.

In Yata’s current state, even that extra second felt like too much of a wait. “What are you – ?” The rest of his impatient question cut off with a surprised grunt when Saruhiko took hold of his leg at the knee and rose, causing him to tip back onto the desk, scrambling to catch himself against the separator at the back of it as he overbalanced. “Oi! What the hell, Saru?”

Somehow even like this, naked and hazy-eyed with desire, his boyfriend managed to give him a properly condescending stare. “You can’t guess?” He’d rested the knee on his shoulder, which caused Yata’s torso to tilt a bit to the side as he stood up fully, and – okay, yeah, it was impossible not to notice what kind of position this put them in.

Yata’s face and body started to burn. For the most part, it wasn’t embarrassment – although he couldn’t really help at least a bit of that, being sprawled back on a desk with his legs spread wide open. They were close enough that the head of Saruhiko’s dick brushed against Yata’s balls, and the new, unquestionably intimate position was a definite turn-on. Anticipation was rapidly stirring into a kind of frenzy at the pit of his stomach.

Still… “Just – just give me some warning next time, asshole!”

“Mm,” Saruhiko responded vaguely. He’d brought the lube bottle up with him and was already tipping it over to pour a generous amount onto his palm. Setting the bottle aside, he reached down to run his freshly slicked hand along the length of his cock.

Yata watched him prepare himself, eyes flitting from where Saruhiko’s fingers firmly stroked his erection to watch his expression change as pleasure softened it. There was a noticeable jerky edge to his motions; when he peeled his hand back, it was with a shaky sigh and a little shudder. But there wasn’t really space for Yata to think hard about what that might mean, because seconds later those fingers were prodding at his backside, and Saruhiko’s eyes were open and staring at him intently – and then he pushed them in, past the resistence, and Yata momentarily forgot how to breathe.

He was still processing that sharp little bit of stimulation when Saruhiko pressed further and curled his fingers, searching for and finding the spot that sent a much more potent burst of pleasure through his body. Yata let out a startled moan, head tipping back against the separator of the desk and eyes squeezing shut. Another, less tentative press and he was already rising up dangerously close to orgasm, nerve endings still on high alert from the earlier foreplay. “Saru… hng… stop – stop fucking around…”

The fingers slid back, not quite withdrawing completely, wriggling just enough to tease him with sensation. “I like making you feel good,” Saruhiko mumbled from just above him, and Yata opened his eyes to stare back hazily. “I like seeing your reactions to every little thing I do.”

He kind of knew that – or at least, it didn’t surprise him – but hearing the actual words gave it more impact. Yata swallowed, struggling again to collect himself. “Yeah,” he managed, roughly, “okay, fine, but I want you to feel good too, y’know?”

Saruhiko stared at him for a moment, eyes heavy-lidded and full of want behind his glasses, and then he abruptly pulled his fingers back, shifting to line himself up. He leaned forward a bit, inching the leg hooked around his shoulder towards Yata’s chest, and maneuvered his cock one-handed until the head pressed against the entrace to Yata’s body. They locked eyes again, hot and promising, and then Saruhiko was pushing forward into him.

The sting and catch of friction as his his body stretched to accommodate the intrusion felt impossibly good after the long wait. Yata arched a little against the flat surface of the desk, a long audible sigh escaping him as their bodies came together. This feeling – the slide and thickness of Saruhiko’s dick moving within him – wasn’t something he’d have ever been able to predict that he’d like so much before they’d started doing it, but he didn’t have any complaints now. Every inch of his body felt so fucking good.

Saruhiko made a low, whimpering noise, slumping, and Yata looked up to meet his boyfriend’s heavy, affected gaze from just above him. “Misaki.” His name was expelled between them like a plea, but Saruhiko didn’t wait for his answer, gripping the back of his thigh with shaking fingers and then pulling back enough to thrust firmly forward into him.

They both moaned at that, the initial rush of intensity blanking out what was left of Yata’s thoughts. He twisted against the desk as Saruhiko began to thrust in earnest, fingers scrambling at the wood and toes curling as pleasure signals spiked through his body. “Sa… Saru… hiko…” he whined, breath coming in short, needy pants. He had to force his eyes to stay open; his vision blurred around the edges, and everything started to melt against the stark clarity of Saruhiko’s body against and within his own.

He could still clearly see Saruhiko’s face, flushed and desperate, eyes half-closed but with a kind of starved look in them. It was as if, even as he fucked Yata, it somehow wasn’t enough for him – he wanted more, more, everything, and couldn’t even figure out how to express that within his own fucked-up head, much less ask for it.

Yata wasn’t entirely sure where that little flash of understanding came from, but it turned up the longing within him to an almost unbearable degree. “Saruhiko,” he ground out again, gasping as he was answered with a particularly deep thrust, and reached up instinctively to cup his partner’s face with unsteady fingers.

Something in Saruhiko’s eyes shifted, seeming to soften his expression; he covered Yata’s hand with his, slowing his pace – and then his grip on Yata’s thigh tightened and he bent forward again, lifting Yata’s ass right off the table and allowing his cock to hit an even deeper angle.

The resulting spike of sensation had Yata crying out, registering Saruhiko’s half-moaning gasp dimly as his body spasmed in response, moisture seeping from the head of his cock. The impulse to touch himself was too strong; he reached down with his free hand – his left, but it would have to do – and made a fist around it, sliding up, even as Saruhiko picked up his rhythm again.

The influx of pleasure was immediate and intense; it only took a few clumsy strokes before Yata was tense and trembling, his whole body hovering on the edge of climax. He couldn’t even form words any more, his brain entirely focused on physical satisfaction. Saruhiko’s face was still in front of his eyes, tightened up with pleasure, his body rigid as he thrust frantically.

Gonna come, gonna come… The telltale tightness in Yata’s belly formed, pleasure rising – and then, abruptly, Saruhiko let out a strangled-sounding moan, burying himself deep within Yata’s body and shaking as he reached his peak, cock twitching with his release. The sensation was so lewd that the pleasure building within Yata spiked, pushing him over the edge. His body spasmed, pulsing around the hardness within him as orgasm wracked his frame and a keening cry escaped his throat.

The delicious little shudders lasted for a good long while after he’d spent himself all over his lower belly and the bottom edge of his chest, and Yata drew his hand back from his over-sensitive cock, mind blissfully blank as he came down, breathing heavily and squinting up at his boyfriend through the haze.

Okay. That was new.

It wasn’t just the synched orgasms, though. Yata’s thoughts were starting up again in the fucked-out fog that was his brain right at that moment, and he let himself flop against the desk for a moment, feeling the frantic beating of his heart slowly stabilize as he tried to sort himself out. There was a satisfaction within him that was more than just physical, settling in his chest and spreading warmth out to the rest of him. He just… felt good. Body and soul.

He didn’t really get it, but – well – no complaints.

Saruhiko shrugged Yata’s leg off of his shoulder as he pulled back, sucking in a breath when his softening cock slid free. He slumped forward, bracing himself on one visibly shaking arm and peering down at Yata. “Misaki,” he murmured, simply – just that and nothing else. The smallest hint of a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, weary and hesitant but there. Trying.

A little ping seemed to strike against Yata’s heart, the good feeling surging up into something overwhelming. He felt the need to be doing something, formless at first but then with a rapidly growing certainty. He wasn’t sure if it was for Saruhiko or himself – maybe both of them – but that feeling demanded a release.

He managed to make it all one motion, sitting up and tilting his head to capture Saruhiko’s lips, not even minding the soreness and the gross feeling of sweat and semen cooling on his body. “I love you,” he mumbled, feeling the truth of that all the way to his bones. It felt like he’d burst with it if he tried to hold it in. “So much. You don’t even… You have no idea.” His voice nearly cracked, and he couldn’t even manage to be embarrassed enough about that to stop babbling. “Saru. Saruhiko. I really… You…”

He completely lost whatever track his mind had been on when Saruhiko backed up just enough so that their gazes locked. There was something in his eyes, vulnerable and lost, like he was still half-starved but wary of reaching for the offer. It was a response Yata could never properly understand – a response that still tugged at his heart and set off an ache at the back of his throat, all the same.

Wordlessly, he reached up with both hands and cupped his boyfriend’s face, watching as Saruhiko’s eyes fluttered closed and a low, shuddering sigh escaped him. That was all the warning Yata got before he was being kissed again, soft but fervent, an echo of the earnest desperation from before.

He didn’t need to hear an answering ‘I love you’. He could feel it right down to his core. It was enough to make him tremble, anxious and overwhelmed, but deeply, thoroughly fulfilled.

“I think about you all the time. It never stops.”

Yeah… Yata straightened up enough to press their foreheads together as the kiss broke, stroking the pads of his thumbs along the lines of Saruhiko’s cheekbones as he opened his eyes to smile, with a kind of love-drunk bliss, at his boyfriend’s dazed expression. Me too.

The End