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Everything always seems quieter when there’s snow on the ground. Sanemi isn’t sure if that’s really the case or not - maybe all the animals who usually make background noise are hibernating somewhere, or maybe sound just travels less through snow.
Either way, there’s a thick, untouched layer of snow covering the ground outside and the sparse trees in the courtyard of the wind pillar estate that Sanemi hasn’t destroyed during training. It’s still coming down, fat flakes blanketing the landscape as the fire in the irori fights against the chill seeping in from outside. Sanemi likes to lay his bedding right down next to the hearth when it’s this cold, the sound of the fire crackling lulling him to sleep.
Unless Giyuu’s spending the night with him. Then things are much hotter… and louder, too.
They’re a little ways away from the fire and Sanemi is still sweating, Giyuu’s back hot against his chest as they move together. He’s rolling his hips into the other man nice and slow, one of Giyuu’s legs hiked up over Sanemi’s forearm so he can get deep while they’re spooning like this.
“Mmnnnn,” Giyuu moans into his mouth.
It’s a tough angle to kiss at; they’re mostly breathing each other’s air as Sanemi keeps up his slow, deep thrusts, savoring the way Giyuu clenches around his dick every time like he doesn’t want him to leave.
Sanemi doesn’t want to leave, either.
“Fuck.” He breaks the kiss to bite along the line of Giyuu’s jaw. “So good.”
Giyuu whines and pushes his hips back, greedy, like Sanemi isn’t giving it to him good enough. Sanemi sinks his teeth in savagely just below the angle of his jaw and sucks hard enough to bruise.
Giyuu pushes back again, his leg trembling in Sanemi’s hold. “More - haah, please. Sanemi-”
“More?” Sanemi goads him, nuzzling under his ear. “You need it deeper?”
“H-harder,” Giyuu stammers.
He turns his face into the bedding, but in the firelight Sanemi can still see a blush staining his skin. Fuck, he’s so cute. Sanemi hates it.
“You can, oh, you can go harder,” Giyuu mumbles into the bedding.
Sanemi grins. He’s glad Giyuu’s not looking at him, because he probably looks a little crazed. “Oh, I can, can I? Here I was tryin’ to make it all romantic and shit.”
He snaps his hips forward, the sound of their bodies meeting loud over the fire. Giyuu cries out and throws his head back, pressing into Sanemi’s hold when Sanemi does it again.
Sanemi knows what Giyuu wants, though, and he isn’t going to be able to give it to him like this. He pulls out and leans back, the air cold on his sweat-soaked chest, and ignores Giyuu’s immediate protests. “Get on your back, Tomioka.”
Giyuu complies instantly, like he was waiting for Sanemi to tell him what to do. His pale skin is almost glowing in the firelight, teeth sunk into his lower lip as his eyes rake up and down Sanemi’s body. He’s still blushing, but for a few moments it’s like he forgets to be shy.
On his knees, Sanemi moves in between Giyuu’s spread legs, reaching over to slick himself up with more oil. Giyuu’s eyes follow his movements. He watches hungrily as Sanemi jerks himself, just a few strokes to spread the oil over the length of his cock.
“Slut,” Sanemi says, fond. “You don’t want it romantic, do you? You just want it hard.”
They both know what he isn’t saying - that the way they do it sometimes, when Sanemi’s meaner and hurts him a little, is just as romantic as when they do it soft and sweet. Just as intimate, maybe even more so.
Giyuu’s blush deepens at his words and he grabs a pillow to cover his face. Sanemi would rip it away if his hands weren’t covered in oil, but instead he wipes them on Giyuu’s thighs. The other man squirms at the sensation of oil being rubbed into his skin; seconds later, Sanemi hoists both of his legs up and presses back, back until Giyuu’s knees are practically at his chest and he’s gasping at the stretch.
“Hold your legs up,” Sanemi tells him.
A few seconds pass, then Giyuu abandons the pillow so he can grab behind both of his knees. He’s breathing fast as he stares up at Sanemi, spread out for him like a feast, willing and vulnerable. It makes Sanemi’s heart slam against his ribs; he swallows hard and moves closer to line himself up, ready to sink back inside that perfect heat.
When he presses against Giyuu’s hole, though, Giyuu bites his lip and his knees draw together.
“Don’t fucking close your legs,” Sanemi snarls, shoving one of Giyuu’s thighs away so he’s exposed again. “You wanted it rough, that’s how I’m gonna give it to you.”
“Sanemi,” Giyuu moans, shaking.
“Yeah,” Sanemi agrees mindlessly, grunting as he pushes inside. “Yeah, fucking - take it, just like that.”
“Sanemi.”
It’s a sigh this time, his name falling from Giyuu’s lips as the other man stares up at him, eyes half-lidded. Giyuu’s mouth drops open soundlessly when Sanemi bottoms out, hipbones pressed snug against his ass; he stares up at Sanemi like he can’t believe how full he is.
Fuck. Fuck. He’s like a vice around Sanemi’s dick. Sanemi reaches up to pinch his nipples and nearly snarls in satisfaction at what that does to the grip of Giyuu’s hole around him.
“Yeah?” he asks, starting to rock in and out. He squeezes Giyuu’s nipples tighter and watches his eyes roll back. “This what you wanted, Tomioka?”
Sanemi doesn’t give him time to answer before building up to a pace that has both of them gasping, putting as much power behind his hips as he can. He abandons Giyuu’s nipples in favor of scratching down his abdomen, nails drawing red lines on his pale skin as Giyuu arches up into his touch and keeps his legs spread wide.
“A-a-a-ah, fuck, fuck,” Giyuu gasps.
He looks like he’s in pain but he’s welcoming it, welcoming the way Sanemi scratches harshly over his inner thighs before reaching down to grip his ass tight enough to bruise. It gives Sanemi leverage to fuck him harder, lifting Giyuu’s ass off the bedding a little to get an angle that makes Giyuu’s eyes pop open and forces a loud moan from deep in his throat.
Sanemi shifts all the weight to one arm so the other one’s free to smack Giyuu’s ass. He does that once, hard, and gets rewarded with the cutest little squeak through clenched teeth.
“You like it when it hurts, huh,” he breathes, giddy.
“Gnnngh-”
Sanemi pushes him a little farther, spanks him harder and harder until Giyuu finally gives up with a sob and lets go of his legs, reaching down to try to push Sanemi’s hand away. Sanemi drops him back onto the bedding, dick still half-buried inside him, and grabs Giyuu’s wrists in a tight hold.
“Don’t give me any of that shit,” he growls, pulling Giyuu forward onto his cock with the grip he has on his arms. He does it a few more times just to watch Giyuu gasp, open-mouthed, brow furrowed like he’s stupid, then says, “I want your hands above your head. You better fucking keep them there.”
It blows Sanemi away every time Giyuu lets him have him like this; although Sanemi sometimes hates to admit it, Giyuu is absolutely just as strong as he is. None of this would be happening if Giyuu didn’t want it. Giyuu’s letting Sanemi hold him down and fuck him up like this, and Sanemi feels like the luckiest bastard in the world.
Sanemi sits back on his knees and helps Giyuu drape his legs around his waist, heart beating fast at the sight he makes spread out like that, dark hair fanned across Sanemi’s pillow.
“Please,” Giyuu begs, shame forgotten as his hands twist in the sheets above his head. Sanemi starts to move again and Giyuu keens. “Please please please, more-”
“You want more?”
The slapslapslap of their skin drowns out everything except Sanemi’s heartbeat roaring in his head. Giyuu nods, eager. God, Sanemi wants to ruin him.
“Why the fuck did you try to stop me, then?” Sanemi snarls, backhanding Giyuu’s pretty pink cock.
Giyuu howls and arches his back, pushing himself toward the hand that’s hurting him. He’s so fucking loud but Sanemi doesn’t care, doesn’t give a shit if his voice carries all the way across the silent courtyard to where the other pillars can hear them. Fuck it. Let them hear.
The best part, Sanemi thinks as he smacks Giyuu’s cock again, is that Giyuu isn’t even trying to stop him. Giyuu cries out and his arms twitch above his head, but they stay put, trembling as precome leaks down the shaft of his dick. God, when he gets like this… Giyuu will let Sanemi do anything.
The last time they did this Sanemi got him to come just from having his dick slapped.
“That’s better, Tomioka,” he breathes, doing his best to ignore the throbbing pleasure from Giyuu’s hole squeezing him as he buries himself deep over and over. “Let me play.”
“Sa-ne-mi-i-i,” Giyuu whines.
He sounds like a goddamn paid whore, moaning Sanemi’s name like that. If Sanemi didn’t know better, he would think the other man was putting on a show. But Tomioka Giyuu is the worst actor Sanemi has ever met, and he knows for a fact he’s Giyuu’s first and only. He didn’t learn that shit from anyone.
It’s all fucking natural.
Sanemi slaps his cock again and the backs of his fingers come away wet with precome. Giyuu’s stopped making noise; Sanemi looks up and falters when he sees that Giyuu’s cheeks are wet with tears.
“Tomioka,” he says. Giyuu rolls his hips but doesn’t respond. “Hey. Giyuu. Are y-”
“Don’t stop,” Giyuu interrupts him. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, brows drawn together. “Please. I’m - nnnh, fuck-”
“Oh,” Sanemi says stupidly. He stares at Giyuu’s dick, flushed a dark shade of red and leaking like a faucet, for a few seconds before he finally gets his shit together and starts moving again.
Giyuu moans and moves his hands down to cover his face, body rocked with every one of Sanemi’s thrusts.
“What did I fucking say, Tomioka,” Sanemi snaps without thinking. He backhands Giyuu’s cock, then smacks it again when it bounces off his abdomen, and again, and- “hands - above - your-”
Giyuu sobs into his hands and comes all over his stomach. Sanemi nearly comes too, belly lurching as Giyuu’s body flutters around him, but he holds back and fucks him through it. Giyuu writhes through the rest of his orgasm untouched, cock spurting every time Sanemi bottoms out.
Holy fuck.
As soon as Giyuu’s done, Sanemi pulls all the way out and walks on his knees up the length of Giyuu’s body, straddling his chest. The other man’s eyes are glassy with pleasure, his face wet and slack like Sanemi fucked the brains right out of his head.
“Fuck, you look like a whore,” Sanemi spits, hand flying over his cock.
Giyuu blinks up at him with his mouth half-open and Sanemi hisses. He’s gonna come all over Tomioka’s stupid fucking pretty face.
Sanemi lurches forward to pin Giyuu’s wrists back up over his head with his free hand. “My fucking whore. You’re mine.”
Giyuu’s eyes flash and he makes a low sound and Sanemi fucking loses it. “Mine mine mine-”
He paints Giyuu’s face with spurts of come, shuddering as pleasure tears through him. Some of it lands in Giyuu’s mouth and it just makes Sanemi come harder, groaning as Giyuu’s wrists flex under his hand.
When he’s finally finished, Sanemi climbs off of Giyuu’s chest on shaky legs and collapses next to him, both of them breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling. The fire crackles in the irori. The wind whistles outside as it whips around the snow.
Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, but their sides are pressed against each other, warm and grounding. Giyuu wipes the come off his face with a corner of the bedding. Sanemi makes a mental note to grab new sheets before they pass out.
Eventually, Giyuu rolls toward him and buries his face in Sanemi’s neck. Sanemi’s heart beats a little faster and he lifts his arm up for Giyuu to press closer, then settles his hand in Giyuu’s sweaty hair when the other man goes still again.
“And you’re mine, yeah?” Giyuu mumbles into his neck.
It takes Sanemi a few seconds to realize what he’s talking about, but only a split-second to answer once he does.
“Yeah.”