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He can’t help that there’s so much difference between them, can’t help that while one walks in the dark, he teeters between the lines of the two.
He can’t help that while he spends all his money in the span of two weeks from receiving his meager earnings, Asami has employed people to count the flow of his cash. That’s another thing, he can’t say that other name, while Asami has no issue calling him Takaba or Akihito, switching as he likes, and causing the lump in his throat to lodge up further.
So he decorates the space they share, stuffs the toys and snacks and knickknacks from the 100 yen store -he’s not made of money after all- and adds bubble bath and cheap beer.
Akihito wears Asami’s suit -twice now- and spreads the newspaper, pretending to be engaged in the article about the crash of the foreign stock market, about the nuclear war program progress, and about the attempt to send a whale to space. ‘Wait what,’ he reads it again, having glossed over the boring details. Maybe it’s a sign of adulthood, the patience to sit down through a long winded article of things happening elsewhere, maybe he’s not there yet.
Asami finds him doing the crossword puzzle, half of which is empty because who the hell knows what the native species of butterflies in Hawaii is called?
He feels Asami’s hand first, sliding inside the gap left by the very large shirt, and asking in an amused voice, “what are you doing Akihito?”
His nipple is pinched before he can give an answer, the newspaper shaking in his hand, and out of stubbornness, Akihito keeps holding on to it, wanting to pretend nothing was going on, showing that he’s not the immature, easily swayed brat he’s been painted as.
But it’s so very hard to do when the fingers start roaming elsewhere, when Asami’s clever fingers map his chest completely, even from the back of the couch, and have him squirm, pushing himself towards the sensation they bring out of him.
They reach the waistband of the suit pants, and Akihito tries to guide them, when the fingers stop, then surround his instead. “No touching. Keep reading. There’s going to be a test on this later.”
He attempts to get up, wanting to turn around and discuss this with Asami, but that just leads to easier access to his pants, and in nearly no time, there are two fingers inside him, thrusting and twisting and driving him mad, the newspaper just a crumbled mess in his hands. Asami always managed to precisely and accurately find his prostate, and this time is no different.
Akihito is so close now, toes curling and mouth panting as he squeezes those fingers inside, but then he’s left absolutely bereft and a whimper escapes him, loud enough to wake the dead.
It’s not for long though, as Asami comes around the sofa, and Akihito is now in his lap, their lips locked together, newspaper still held in his hand, but now the suit is a rumpled cloth sliding down his legs as Asami pushes between them, leaving just his socked feet hanging off of those huge thighs.
He’s so full, Asami’s cock like a piston pushing inside, warm, wet and unrelenting on that one spot as the rest of it rubs his sensitive insides. Fingers trace his cock and he almost sobs, because this means his orgasm is seconds away, when he hears, “what are they sending to space?”
The fingers clamp down on the root, stopping any orgasm. He looks at Asami with pleading, teary eyes and shamelessly begs him, “help me come. Please I want to come, inside, here,” and he shakes his hips, trying for more friction, which Asami refuses to give, instead, slapping the inside of Akihito’s thighs.
“You want to act like a proper adult, you have to deal with the consequences.”
He remembers the echo of the last conversation where he ran off and got into trouble, and quickly yields. He can prove he’s not a kid anymore another time and using another method, right now, all he wants is to stargaze with his lids closed. “I’m not! I’m a brat! So, ple- ah!”
It’s the right thing to say, because those fingers are now busy pulling on both cock and his very sensitive nipples, while Asami grinds all the way inside him, and is only seconds behind him when he shoots all over the newspaper.
***
He’s mumbling about Asami being a horrible example of an adult, having received another punishment because the suit was now ruined, when Asami plopped something cold on his ass, making him jolt.
“That’s right, so don’t grow up to be like me, brat,” Asami waved at him as he left wearing another suit, ready for more work.
Akihito grabbed the cold item and found out it was the limited addition Halloween pudding that was advertised as only being released in Hokkaido this year. He grinned. Being a brat seemed less like a bad thing if he’d get spoiled like this from time to time.