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If there was anything that Madara Mikejima knew, it was one simple fact.
Life was unfair.
It should have been me . I cared the most, I was the one that shared little secrets of the world with him.
Why- God- why then had Kanata slipped through his fingers?
It hurt more than anything he could describe. In one year, Madara lost everything. His family tossed him aside like he was nothing but garbage to be picked up the next morning; his sister resented him for promising health that no one could deliver. And after everything he sacrificed, even Kanata left him. Hand in hand with some guy he barely knew, calling him a hero.
A hero. Kanata’s hero was all Madara ever wanted to be.
Kanata was supposed to be some false god, but Madara wanted to be the one to bring him to deliverance. He wanted to be the one to show him the truth of life, to help him be human. It was clear.
Madara couldn’t save Kanata.
Over the next year, he bore witness to the blooming relationship between Chiaki and Kanata. He overheard Chiaki explaining the world to him in the excited way he tended to do, Kanata responding with innocent curiosity. He saw the way Kanata would lean on Chiaki’s shoulder when he was tired, unable to miss the way the red hero’s cheeks would flush at the contact.
“Chiaki is my ‘partner’ now.”
One sentence sent him here. Well, that and a few other things.
It started with Madara seeking out Kuro, who seemed to be equally seeking him out as well.
They met in the training room. Madara noticed redness under Kuro’s eyes and decided not to comment on it, as long as he didn’t comment on how tense his jaw was even as he spoke as boisterously as usual.
Kuro managed to pin Madara and the brunette could feel the tension in his grasp on his arms to hold him down. Teal eyes met green, their chests rising and falling in the moment of quiet.
“Mikejima.”
Kuro spoke with a dark tone, his brows furrowed in what seemed to be conflict. He was wordless but he didn’t need to say anything. Madara already knew.
“I heard.”
The redhead’s frown tightened. Sweat dripped from his nose to Madara’s cheek and he couldn’t look away.
Over the past year, the two men grew to become closer than before. Turns out, Kuro was in the same boat as Madara. He’d met Chiaki at one of his lowest points and had grown quite fond of him, but before he could even think to confess his feelings; Chiaki and Kanata had become an inseparable pair. And now they were together.
They knew each other’s feelings better than anyone else now, and maybe that’s why it happened.
Their kisses weren’t nice. The way their lips and teeth clashed were bruising, hands fumbling to grab at anything they could reach, sometimes fabric and sometimes hair. It hurt and the men poured their anguish into each other’s already overflowing glasses. They broke away only to suggest going elsewhere. Madara’s dorm was a no-go; he knew that at the very least, Subaru was there and possibly even had Hokuto with him. Kuro offered up his own, knowing Shu and Izumi were currently overseas and Mao was usually out, busy with the multitude of other responsibilities he had. With a place in mind, the two were quick to exit the room, not bothering to fix their messy hair from their earlier training.
Madara spotted Kuro’s shaking hands when he went to unlock the door, sighing in temporary relief when the dorm was found to be empty. The pair entered and picked up right where they left off. Madara’s back hit the sheets, Kuro toppling over to hover over him. He paused for a moment, silently questioning the position they’d ended up in. The brunette gave him a nod, a quiet “okay” that this was fine. And Kuro was back on him.
The redhead helped him to remove his shirt, leaving the brunette to shudder at the sudden feeling of coldness on his chest. It didn’t last long though, as Kuro began to run his large, calloused hands up his sides, his lips peppering wet kisses against his tan skin. Mama wasn’t sure he’d ever been kissed like this.
“Can I?” Kuro’s voice broke the silence as he reached the belt of Mama’s jeans.
“Go ahead.”
The redhead nodded, unbuckling his belt and pushing Madara’s pants down and off, setting them aside. Next were his boxers, joining them somewhere on the bed. Kuro met Mama’s gaze, a hand resting on his thigh. “Is this okay?”
Madara hated the way his heart hurt at his gentle tone. Instead of letting it eat at him, he just rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to ask Kuro-san.”
He frowned.
“Really, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Mama chuckled, hoping that would put him more at ease.
Kuro paused, thinking it over. Madara thought the guy was going to put it all on hold there but instead, he nodded and said he understood, much to Mama’s relief. The brunette felt one of those large hands wrap around his cock firmly, stroking from base to tip in fluid motions. The action tore a groan from Madara’s throat, a pitched moan following when the man thumbed at the head, his hips bucking upward.
“Kuro-san, you’re... staring,” Mama breathed out, giving the man above him a slight glare.
“Ah, sorry.”
The frown stayed. Madara couldn’t handle the intense gaze, all the words left unspoken. He reached a hand up, tugging Kuro’s mouth to his own, locking their lips once more in a kiss. His free hand palmed at the front of the redhead’s pants, happily humming at the confirmation of his suspicions; Kuro was big everywhere . He was even more pleasantly surprised at the groan that was buried between their lips.
Hands drew away from Madara’s slowly heating body, moving to his own pants, unbuttoning and shoving them down and off. Soon, Kuro’s leaking cock was fished out of his boxers and Mama couldn’t help himself when he used the heel of his foot to the man’s lower back, coaxing his waist closer. Their kiss was broken by heavy pants as their cocks slid against each other, eyes meeting while their lower halves grinded against each other. Kuro’s eyes looked like they were searching for something- something that Madara didn’t have and he wouldn’t find in Kuro either. He wasn’t Chiaki, Kuro wasn’t Kanata.
His chest felt heavy again.
“Lube,” Mama breathed out, pulling Kuro out of his swirling thoughts. “Ah,” Kuro nodded.
The redhead reached behind him somewhere, pulling a drawer out of his nightstand and beginning to rummage through it. The brunette took the time to peak under his shirt from where its collar hung in front of him. He was muscular, tanned, and the man could spot a few scars against his chest. Madara gave into his intrusive thoughts, running his hands under Kuro’s shirt straight to his chest, giving his pecs a squeeze. He felt Kuro pause his motions for just a moment before silently continuing his rummaging. He cursed quietly, clearly unable to find the subject of the next step of their night. Though, Madara found his reaction interesting.
The brunette ducked his head under his shirt, parting his lips and pressing his tongue against the bud of one of the man’s nipples. Kuro returned the gesture with a shaky gasp and Madara could feel the tensing of his muscles under his skin. Madara chuckled against his chest, one hand teasing one nipple, the other latching onto the bud and swirling his tongue around it.
“Mm... Mikejima,” Madara could hear the slightest whimper in his voice, as well as the way his fingers grasped the sheets tighter.
“Mm, I’m sucking on your tits, you can at least call me Mama~,” The brunette chirped, pulling his head back and out of the shirt to tilt his head back, meeting the eyes of a flushed, half-lidded Kuro above him.
“If yer the mom, shouldn’t I be doin’ that...?” Kuro asked breathily, brows upturned.
Mama blinked under him, taking a moment to process the question with reddened cheeks. A playful smile stretched across his lips, chuckling as his head tilted back, using his hands to cup his own chest, squeezing his pecs together. “Do you wanna?”
Now, it was Kuro’s turn to blink at the man under him, his eyes flickering to Madara’s “breasts” and back to his face. His face gained redness the longer he stared until he finally seemed to decide he’d stared enough.
“Found the lube...” Kuro murmured, presenting a half-empty bottle of lube.
Butterflies filled and fluttered about in Madara’s stomach as the other man popped it open, teal eyes watching as his thick fingers were slathered with a generous amount of lube. Kuro’s gaze seemed to harden again, concentrated on the task at hand- no pun intended. It was cute, seeing his face scrunched in such a way. It made Madara sigh in content that he was able to get his mind off things like this, the sound catching Kuro’s attention.
“You okay?”
“Ah, haha... Yeah, it’s just been a while.” Madara chuckled. Kuro nodded thoughtfully, reaching a hand out to grab onto Madara’s, his eyes meeting the other’s for the millionth time already that night. “Squeeze if it hurts too much, okay?” Kuro’s earnest tone made his heart race more than the thought of being spread open. He swallowed, hoping the redhead couldn’t hear it when he nodded. “Do it, go ahead, don’t be shyyyy..”
And Kuro chuckled; a true chuckle instead of the nervous chuckle Madara had cheated him with. But it didn’t seem like he minded at all. He watched the brunette’s face carefully when his cold fingers poked at his waiting entrance, leaving Mama feeling exposed when his face screwed at the feeling of the first digit’s intrusion. Madara’s mind quickly became fuzzy, coming back to reality when Kuro checked up on how he was feeling, two fingers knuckle deep inside of the man.
The stretching process was much easier than Madara had expected; though, that was probably in part to Kuro insisting he takes things slow even as Madara tried to assure him that he could take more. Three fingers were pulled from him, leaving his body to clench around nothing, waiting and wanting for more.
Hands under his knees pulled his legs up, Kuro leaning his body over the man as he lined his cock up with Madara’s hole. “Are you ready?”
“Mhm,” His arms wrapped around Kuro’s shoulder’s, a teasing smirk on his lips, “fill Mama up~.”
Kuro’s eyes went to where their bodies were connected as he pushed inside of him, his jaw clenching tightly as he forced himself to silence. Madara followed his gaze, unable to muffle the slight gasp that left him when the head was nestled inside.
“Kuro-san...”
Their eyes pulled away from their lower halves to each other’s faces. Something about the eye contact was too close for comfort. Kuro’s gentle green eyes were filled with warmth . They didn’t look at Madara how he felt. Like a monster, a failed hero, a disappointment of a friend, a brother, a lover. Kuro looked at him like he was a human being he was happy to bring to bed, to share this intimate moment together. It hurt. Nothing in the world hurt more than that look.
The look that Kanata should be giving him .
Madara took control, grabbing onto Kuro’s shoulders and shoving him back. Taken aback, Kuro could do nothing but meet the sheets, letting out a noise of surprise. He didn’t give him a moment to recover. Madara took the burning sensation that came with sitting on Kuro’s cock with teary eyes, the feeling of the redhead’s fingernails digging into his thighs as he attempted to steady himself. Mama lifted his hips only to slam himself back down onto the other man, making them both moan out in a mix of pleasure and pain. It was better this way; it was better to hurt with every roll of his hips than to meet that kind look again. This way, he could look down to Kuro’s face to see parted lips, screwed brows and hazy eyes. There was no warmth in the brutal way Madara rode him. There was only burning pain when Kuro lifted his hand to grasp the back of his hair to yank his head back, ripping a near scream of a moan from the brunette’s lips. And even when Madara’s legs grew shaky as he neared his climax, there was no love in how Kuro grabbed his hips and fucked upward into him, driving Mama to his limit as he chased his own pleasure.
The end came in a flash of white-out bliss. Chest heaving and hearts racing, Madara flopped beside Kuro once they’d finished in an attempt to catch his breath. Their heads turned toward each other, flushed faces and all. There was an unspoken question between them.
What now?
Kuro seemed to observe him, just as he had before. He was looking for something, as if he didn’t know if Madara wanted to stay or go. So, the brunette broke the silence.
“I should get back to my dorm before they come looking for me,” Madara chuckled, silently cursing the pain that shot up his back when he attempted to get up. Lie. No one would look for the ever-elusive Madara Mikejima. And Kuro seemed to think the same, but he was gracious enough to not poke and prod.
“Do you want me to walk you back?” Kuro offered as Madara pulled his pants on.
“Hm, hm~, I’ve got it.”
Once his things were gathered, he turned toward the redhead still laying on his side in his bed.
“Be safe then, okay?”
Being safe was the last thing he wanted to be. Every fiber of his unhealed inner child screamed to self-destruct, to run away, to protect himself from this pain.
“I will, see you next time, Kuro-san~.”