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“You know what I’m getting at, right?”
In the span of the few minutes that it took to walk the short distance to the bathroom and slump boneless onto the floor, Aoki can't bring himself to remember how many times those words played in his head.
“You know what I’m getting at, right?”
Ida’s voice is clear as he hears it. There was that usual intensity in his eyes, but as he said those words, there was something else in them…something more. Something burning that made Aoki feel warm around the collar. Something knowing that made him feel exposed.
Something looking a lot like want.
Aoki clutches at his chest, willing the frantic beating of his heart to slow.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he tells himself, even as he feels his palms growing colder. “It’s fine.”
It’s not like he hasn’t thought about doing more than holding hands with Ida and kissing him, definitely not. On the contrary, just remembering the sheer number of times he spent alone in his room in the wee hours of the night imagining how their first time would go makes Aoki’s face go hot, spreading down his chest and then lower.
Out of nowhere, his mind (un)helpfully conjures up images of those imagined first times, sudden and uninvited, of made-up memories of teeth and tongue and hands and skin, so much skin, and—
He swallows.
He bites down on his lip and shakes his head, instead focusing his attention on how unfazed Ida looked earlier asking what he did. Holding onto the image of his boyfriend, calm and collected, gives him a good excuse to detach himself from his anxious unease and settle on something more familiar and easier to handle: frustration.
Aoki is older than him, so why does Ida get to be the calm, reliable one? That’s not fair.
While he’s flattered to be wanted that way—the thought of Ida wanting him that way still makes his stomach swoop—he’s determined to meet him on level ground, calm and unfazed and at least seeming like he knows what he’s doing.
“Okay.”
He thinks of Ida and what he wants, what he asked, and the open look in his eyes that made Aoki feel like a hopeless fool for even thinking about refusing him anything.
“It’s Ida,” he tells himself.
Ida, who has been nothing but kind to him, who always met him where he was, who stood by him patiently and protectively as he sorted out the mess in his head, who brought him back and grounded him each time he strayed too far.
"It's Ida," he says, less like words and more a sigh of relief.
As if by magic, he feels the knots of nervous tension leaving his body. He takes a deep breath, and then another. He feels safe now.
“If it’s Ida, then there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Balling his fists as tight as he can, he releases them together with one last deep breath, goes back out into the bedroom, and fetches something from his luggage.
Ida looks up from where he’s leaning against the headboard of his bed as Aoki, pink across the cheeks and refusing to meet his eyes, makes his way from the bathroom. Ida finds the nervous tilt of his lip adorable and smiles.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He watches the way Aoki’s throat bobs when he swallows. “Yeah.”
Sitting up, Ida pats the space next to him, feeling very pleased when Aoki, still reluctant to look at him, sits close enough that their thighs and their arms touch. He loves it when they touch, and he loves it even more when the gesture comes from Aoki, who’s chewing on his lower lip, holding himself steady against the visible tension in his shoulders.
So brave, he thinks with a smile.
Ida doesn’t notice the way his hand reaches up to rest on the tender skin where Aoki’s neck meets his shoulder. Aoki’s shoulder goes rigid at the contact, his head snapping up to look at him then, and Ida feels the way he tamps down his desire to flee.
“Is this okay?” He hears himself ask.
In lieu of an answer, Aoki nods. Ida won’t ever say it out loud, but he relishes the feeling of Aoki’s pulse jumping under his touch.
Ida can’t help himself. He leans in and kisses him lightly on the mouth.
Aoki’s breath catches and looks at him with wide eyes, red from his face to his neck. For a second, fear crept up Ida’s spine, thinking Aoki would stand up and leave, but what happens makes his heart skip a beat.
Aoki reaches for the lapel of his robe with one hand and his nape with the other and pulls him in close for another kiss. Ida can do nothing but close his eyes and follow his lead, jumping a little when he feels Aoki’s tongue sweep against his lips.
He obliges, of course, and parts his lips to accommodate Aoki’s eager exploration of his mouth. His hand finds Aoki’s waist and squeezes, earning him a sweet moan into his mouth, the warm, wet slide of tongues sending a jolt of heat straight down to his lower half.
With his mouth pleasantly occupied, he lets his hands wander, pressing against Aoki’s chest, his side, the length of his thigh, enjoying every little hitched breath that it earns him.
When they part, he drinks in the decadent sight underneath him: Aoki, panting and flushed from the tips of his ears down to his exposed chest, one leg bent with the hem of his robe riding up all the way up to expose his hip. His eyes are half-lidded and glossy, lips wet and plump and so obviously, thoroughly kissed. The sight of him makes Ida lick his lip.
He’s not sure how they got here, him on top with Aoki’s legs on either side of him, but with his usually talkative boyfriend a breathless, pliant mess under him, he’s not about to complain.
Aoki’s tongue darts out of his mouth then and—ah, there it is again. The hot ache between his legs.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one so rattled about this,” he hears Aoki say.
“What do you mean?”
The playful smirk on his face makes Ida want to kiss him again.
“You should see what you look like right now, Ida,” Aoki says. For a moment, Ida sees a flash of something mischievous in his eyes before his hands come up to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him down again, this time with a little more force that Ida falls onto his elbows with his weight pressing Aoki deeper into the mattress.
The motion makes Ida’s own pulse jump—the sudden pressure on his erection unexpected but not unwelcome. He tries not to chase after that delicious friction even as Aoki starts mouthing down the line of his jaw, trailing kisses on the corner of his mouth before finally landing on his lips.
I have to stop, Ida thinks with regret. This is getting bad.
Everything feels too good, too overwhelming, but also too much and not enough.
He wanted to stay up with the intention of getting his fill of kisses to make up for all the times he couldn’t, but at the rate they’re going, he’s afraid that if he doesn’t stop now, he’s not sure how far he’ll go. And he doesn’t want to go where Aoki doesn’t want to.
“What’s wrong?”
Aoki’s brows are furrowed, his lips pulled in a tight line. His hold on Ida’s neck has slackened just a bit, and Ida pulls himself away from his thoughts before anxiety and doubt fully lock their hold on his boyfriend.
“I was just wondering,” Ida starts, planting a kiss on Aoki’s forehead.
This is good, he thinks. Talking helps to calm him down.
“What took you so long in the bath.” He closes his eyes and nuzzles the crook of Aoki’s neck, breathing in the fresh scent of him.
Ida feels Aoki tense at the question. Ida kisses his neck in an attempt to calm him as his thumb traces circles where it’s settled on his waist. Aoki mumbles a response.
“What was that?” A kiss to the throat, another to the jaw, and Ida smiles when Aoki whines.
“I said,” Aoki huffed, his laced fingers on Ida’s neck tightening again.
“Hmm?”
“…that I prepped myself.”
Silence.
Ida’s hand froze from its ministrations, his brain stuttering to a complete halt.
More silence.
“I-Ida?” Aoki tries.
Ida can vaguely feel him craning his neck to look at him, but none of it truly registers with him. He feels Aoki try to pull him up instead.
“Ida?” He asks again.
The rising panic in Aoki’s voice snaps Ida back into reality enough to ask, “what did you just say?”
“Nothing!” Aoki sputters. “You asked why I took long in the bath, and I said that I—” Aoki bites his lip, and his next words were quiet, more a whisper than anything, “I said I prepped myself.”
“That’s…”
Terrible, Ida’s mind helpfully supplies.
Just when he started calming down, Aoki had just gifted him the delectable image of him flushed and panting, half-hard and bent over the bathroom sink with his slicked fingers inside him, pushing and pulling and stretching himself out in anticipation of taking Ida.
Taking him.
Light-headed, Ida feels all his blood rush down to his lower half, and he takes a shaky breath as the stiffness between his legs comes back in full force. He feels his own face grow hot, and he looks away.
“Aoki, that’s—”
“I thought—was that not what—Ida, I thought that was what you were asking earlier!” Aoki, even redder than before, starts gesturing with his hands. “I-I obviously got it wrong, I’m sorry! We don’t have to! We don’t have to do anything, it was my mistake. Just pretend you didn’t hear—”
Ida ignores the gnawing ache in his groin and pushes himself up to sit between Aoki’s legs. He takes each of his hands and squeezes.
“Aoki.”
Aoki’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click.
“What I was asking earlier, I just thought to make up for all the times you wouldn’t let me kiss you before the exams,” he says.
Aoki, so impossibly red now, ducks and tries to pull his hands away. “Oh god, see? I knew it—”
Ida leans in to kiss him, once, twice, and one more time for good measure, and Aoki, moaning into the kiss, melts into silence with that delightfully hazy look in his eyes. Ida places a hand on his cheek.
“Aoki. This is also something I want,” he says. “For a while now.”
“Ida,” Aoki breathes his name, full of relieved disbelief.
“I just wasn’t sure if I could ask for it.”
Aoki looks away. “Of course you could ask for it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it so many times, but are you sure?”
Ida isn’t sure where the sudden boldness comes from, perhaps from Aoki’s shy admission of prepping himself for him—for him—or because of Aoki’s earnest confession of thinking about doing it with him ‘so many times,’ but instead of answering, Ida looks into his eyes, takes Aoki’s shaking hand, and guides it to the unmistakable proof of desire between his legs.
“Yes, Aoki, I’m sure.”
Aoki, still red as ever, gives his cock a tentative squeeze, and Ida had to hold down a gasp, trembling at the touch. Panicked, Aoki pulls his hand away, but before Ida could second guess what he did, he’s being pulled down a third time.
“We…we should keep going, then,” Aoki says against his lips, eyes squeezed shut.
“We should,” Ida agrees, kissing him, slow and deep, tonguing his way into Aoki’s obedient mouth.
Ida’s hand finds its way underneath the offending robes that keeps him from touching Aoki directly and pushes it open and away, exposing more of that unblemished skin from shoulder to chest to hip, the sight of which fills Ida with the urge to put his mouth on it and mark it.
“What are you—”
Before Aoki finishes the thought, Ida’s mouth had already begun its slow path from his jaw, to his neck, sucking, biting, and kissing, down to his shoulder, where he sinks his teeth as far as he thinks Aoki would tolerate.
The sound Aoki makes then sends another wave of heat down Ida’s shaft, and he knows he’ll be haunted by that obscene tone of this voice for weeks.
Ida pulls back just enough to completely peel away Aoki’s robe and expose him fully. The view is absolutely breathtaking.
“Don’t look,” Aoki says, shielding himself with a balled fist to his face and closing his legs as far as they can go with Ida between them. “It’s embarrassing…”
Despite the situation, Ida can’t help but find Aoki so desperately endearing. Really, everything Aoki does only serves to make Ida fall in love with him even more, and just looking at him fills Ida with so much affection that he doesn’t know what to do with himself except accept the way his heart aches and wonder what he did to deserve this boy falling in love with him.
“It’s not embarrassing,” Ida says, completely oblivious to the lopsided smile on his face. He leans down and kisses Aoki’s forehead, his brow, his cheek. “I think you’re beautiful.”
When Ida pulls away, Aoki looks at him with gleaming eyes and a wobbly pout that he can’t help but kiss. Gently, he puts a hand on Aoki’s knee and nudges it away, revealing his cock, pinker than the rest of his body, eager and leaking as it bobs against his stomach.
The sight of it turns Ida on even more, and his breath catches in his throat. He lowers himself between Aoki’s legs and starts trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses inside his thigh, stopping just a hair’s width away from Aoki’s length.
“Ida—”
Aoki sounds so broken that Ida wants nothing more than to take him into his mouth and coax out more indecent sounds from him. He settles a firm hand on the base and gives him a light squeeze, earning him a fractured sob.
“Aoki, I want to… Can I?”
At Aoki’s answering nod, Ida presses his tongue on the tip, right at the slit, and begins to suck softly. It tastes of salt, a tinge of bitterness, and lightly of musk, and Ida commits it to memory.
This is what Aoki tastes like.
There’s another broken groan, and Aoki’s fingers find their way into his hair. He feels nothing but encouraged by the way his cock twitches, the weight of it heady in his mouth.
Ida pulls away to lick a long stripe down the length of the underside, relishing in the breathless whimper Aoki gives him for his effort. He then closes his mouth around the tip, swirling his tongue around the soft flesh before sinking in as far as he could go, concentrating on relaxing his throat to take Aoki’s entire length in.
“F-Fuck, Ida,” Aoki says, followed by a mumbled string of curses. “Fuck.”
Ida aches but doesn’t dare to touch himself. Instead, he starts pulling back, a lot slower this time, sucking and hollowing his cheeks as he goes. When he reaches the tip, he pulls off to catch his breath. As he does, he pumps Aoki’s cock once, twice, playfully nibbling the underside of the tip and ducking his head to take him whole.
Thighs shaking, Aoki starts bucking into his mouth, and Ida has to push him down into the mattress with a firm hold on his hips.
“Please, Ida, let me—please, I’m close—”
Aoki cries, trying to pry Ida off him with trembling, unsteady hands, but Ida only swats them away, his grip now bruising as he hastens his pace, sucking harder and harder until Aoki comes, hard, straight into his throat. Ida, ever diligent, swallows as he continues a languid rhythm, the overstimulation of which makes Aoki shiver.
When Aoki stills, Ida lets go with a loud, satisfied pop before settling next to him, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead as he watches him come back from the haze of his afterglow. Mouth slightly parted and eyes half-lidded, Aoki gazes at him, looking content.
Ida’s heart feels so full he can’t help but smile.
“Ida…”
“Hmm?”
With visible effort, Aoki pushes himself up to face him. Aoki doesn’t break his gaze when, with a cold, shaking hand, he reaches for the erection straining between his legs. Aoki gives it an experimental squeeze and a slide, and Ida gasps at the pressure. The open, slack-jawed look of pure want on Aoki’s face does nothing to help him keep his composure.
“You’re still hard,” Aoki says, shy and quiet.
Ida keeps his eyes trained on him. “I am.”
“But, you know, I…” Aoki stops and pulls his mouth into a straight line, and Ida does his best not to kiss it open so the words he wanted to say can spill out. Aoki ducks his head but his grip on Ida’s cock tightens minutely as he starts stroking him. “I want you to feel good, too, you know.”
“Oh?” His eyes stay on Aoki’s hand on his cock, up and down it goes in its agonizingly slow pace, and he bites down on his tongue to keep his breathing even.
“I already prepped myself in the bathroom earlier, and you also made me come—”
You also made me come.
“—so, if you want…”
Ida understands what he’s saying. And he wants it.
“Are you sure?”
Aoki, red around the ears, looks up from under his mess of hair, his grip tightening again ever so slightly. He nods. “I want it.”
“Come here,” Ida hears himself say with a voice so rough and strained he’s not sure it’s his.
Letting go of his hold, Aoki does as he’s told and scoots closer, laying his head on Ida’s shoulder.
“Tell me,” Ida starts, voice low in the intimate space between them. “How do you want it?”
Aoki’s face colors at the question. He looks away. “How can you ask that so calmly?” His voice is just as quiet, but no less expressive. “You just gave me head, how are you so unfazed by this?”
Ida reaches for Aoki’s hand and lays his palm flat against his chest. Ida feels every thundering beat of his heart and knows that Aoki can feel it, too.
“I’m not calm.”
Aoki bites his lip. “Okay. Good.”
“So, how do you want it?”
Aoki bites down on his lip, fighting down the embarrassment he clearly feels. He’s steeling himself to talk, Ida can see it, and he’s ready to give him all the time he needs.
“I… I want it how you want it,” he says.
“Okay.”
It took him a little convincing, but Ida insisted he wanted to know what it was like to prepare him, which is how he finds himself sitting back on his haunches, leaning over Aoki with well-slicked fingers. With a firm grip, Ida pulls him closer until Aoki’s hip rests snugly against his thigh.
“Let me know if it hurts,” he says.
Ida drinks in the sight of him: Aoki’s light hair a halo around his head, his body artfully laid against the white sheets of bed. Ida lets his eyes wander, from the marks he left on his shoulder, to the stiff twin buds on his chest, to his angled hip warm against his thighs, to his entrance, pink and twitching.
He traces his finger around the puckered hole and smiles at the bitten back whimper he hears in answer. Gingerly, he teases the tip of his middle finger in, twisting it slowly as he pushes inside. He watches as Aoki’s hole accepts his finger readily, and he swallows in anticipation—in a little while, his cock will be going in that very same hole.
A second finger pushes in, and he experiments with moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, careful to stretch Aoki out as he goes. He looks up to see Aoki red and panting into his fist, gripping the sheets next to him.
Out of curiosity, Ida tries fitting in a third finger just to see if Aoki can stretch that far. He’s rewarded with another flare of arousal when, with a tiny sliver of effort, a third finger slips in.
“I told you,” Aoki whines, “I’ve done this before, and I’m already loose—”
His rant is sharply cut off by a curling mewl that sends shivers down Ida’s spine. Ida’s hand freezes in place.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” Aoki manages to say, “you just—you hit a good spot just now.”
Ida nods and flicks his wrist at an angle, and Aoki’s back arches with a moan that makes Ida lick his lips.
Huffing and flushed to his chest, Aoki grabs Ida’s hand. “That’s enough, you can put it in already.”
Ida watches his face as he pulls out his fingers, savoring the way Aoki’s brows knot and his eyelids drop as he lets out a breath. Aoki falls back and waits.
“Well?”
Even looking like a beautiful mess, he finds a way to be petulant.
Ida feels Aoki’s eyes on him as he wastes no time putting on a rubber and slathering himself with a generous helping of lube down his length, making a show of pumping himself with it. Aoki watches him as he makes his way on all fours to straddle Ida’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and positioning himself over Ida’s cock before he remembers to ask.
“Right. How do you want it?”
Ida can’t help but be charmed.
He cups a hand around Aoki’s nape and pulls him in a kiss, chaste at first, until he starts nibbling on Aoki’s lips. When he prods with his tongue, Aoki is helpless to do anything but let him in. The wet, hot slide of their mouths eases the tension from Aoki’s shoulders. Gently, Ida pushes him down onto the mattress with his hips hoisted over Ida’s thighs.
Like this, Ida’s cock is lined up perfectly with Aoki’s entrance. He takes a second to admire the view, Aoki spread out before him in all his naked splendor.
“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”
Aoki nods, and Ida presses the tip of his cock against the ridges of Aoki’s entrance. He pushes in, the give easy and pliant as he watches Aoki’s hole close around it. It’s only the tip, but the moist pressure around it is already almost too much for him.
“Ida,” Aoki rasps. “Are you okay?”
Ida looks up at him—oh, that heady, half-lidded gaze makes Ida want to wreck him—and nods.
“Hold on, I just need too…” He trails off. “I can’t believe it feels this good inside you, Aoki.”
Ida watches the effect of those words on his boyfriend, his full body flush deepening and his cock stirring again to half-mast. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, steeling himself as he pushes in again, haltingly, concentrating on getting in all the way to the hilt without coming right away. He wants this to be good for Aoki, too, after all.
Through sheer force of will, he manages to sheathe himself fully without spilling inside.
“It’s all the way in,” he says, voice hoarse.
“Try—” Aoki lets out a shaky breath. “Try moving now. Slowly.”
Ida pulls out slowly, and oh god, the smooth slide of it makes the hairs on his arm stand on end, it’s just too good—
He bites his tongue, hard enough to taste blood. Grounded, he continues to pull himself out, stopping just when the tip of his cock is left inside.
Truth be told, everything is too much for him right now: watching the place where Aoki is taking him in inch by inch while he pushes in and pulls out is doing things to his brain he didn’t know was possible. Couple that with the sensation of Aoki’s wet warmth squeezing his aching cock, and the fact that Aoki’s apparently been fingering himself anticipating this for god knows how many times now—
Deep breaths.
Aoki whimpers as he’s jostled when Ida adjusts his hold on him. Angling his hip slightly upward, Ida pushes in again, this time just a little bit faster, the glide a lot smoother than the first. His efforts are rewarded with a breathless moan that only serves to encourage him.
“Ida, please, do that again, please, I—”
Ida finds him unbearably adorable that he’s overcome with the urge to tease him.
So he takes Aoki’s now fully hard length in his hand as he pulls out, stroking it with a grip so light it makes Aoki whine. He stays his hips.
“Aoki,” he says. “I’m curious… You say you’ve ‘done it before,’ did you mean touching yourself here?” Ida punctuates his question with a snap of his hips, earning him a desperate sound somewhere between a sob and a moan.
“Are you—ah—seriously asking that right now?” Aoki growls.
“I am.” Ida grins and gives the base of his cock a tentative squeeze, making him squirm. “So, did you?” He pulls out, relishing the wet slip of it and snaps his hips again, driving himself into that sweet spot that makes Aoki wail.
“Yes.”
“How many times have you done it?” Another squeeze and a mewl.
“I—I don’t know, I lost count…”
Ida didn’t think it was possible to get even harder than he is, but he feels it even as he’s buried to the hilt.
Unbidden, Aoki continues, “on the days when you’d hold me by the nape and kiss me, it always left me hot and unsatisfied so, ah, when I get home, I’d—”
Ida knows he’d shot himself in the foot when he started asking these questions. Now, he can’t bring himself to hear any more, it was all too much. He can’t understand how one person could make him feel an arousal so painful while filling him with an affection so profound.
He leans in and captures Aoki’s mouth, kissing him hungrily until his tongue has traced the shapes of all the words he wants to say.
Ida strokes him in earnest then as he thrusts in that angled position. Aoki moans into his mouth and starts begging him not to stop because yes, faster, please, there, it’s so good, Ida, please keep going—
With a final wet kiss, Ida moves to suck and bite at Aoki’s neck, his shoulder, everywhere his mouth could reach. Every fiber of his being screams with the urgent need for this, to be as close to Aoki as possible, to feel every inch of him, every tremor, every moan, every sigh.
He sinks his teeth into tender skin and—
“Kousuke, please—”
Aoki clenches around his cock so deliciously that Ida sees stars, and he knows Aoki is coming again from the thick, wet warmth in his hand. Still, he keeps his rhythm, hard and fast now, riding out the rest of Aoki’s orgasm, hitting his sweet spot over and over again, the only thing in his ears is that familiar voice that he loves, broken and wrecked, calling his name in a way that he knows he won’t last long.
With a hard shove that buries himself deep into that sweet, tight heat, his hips flush against his Aoki’s bottom—
“Souta, I—”
—Ida comes.
When the morning comes, Aoki takes his time waking up, eyes still closed as he basks in the warmth wrapped protectively around him. He nestles deeper into the inviting stillness of his personal cocoon and breathes in the familiar, comforting scent of—
Ah.
He opens his eyes to Ida’s throat in front of him and realizes that his personal cocoon was Ida’s solid shoulder under his head and his arms wrapped around him, holding him close. He wills himself to stay still even as he feels a rush of heat on his face.
A mole at the top of Ida’s collar bone catches his eye then. The sight of it stirs something in him, curiosity laced with something else, a spot usually covered up, now so plain for him to see. Before he has a mind to stop himself, his hand’s already reaching up to touch it, and then to a tiny scar just above it, until his finger traces a reverent line along his throat.
There’s a quiet huff of a laugh.
“That tickles,” comes Ida’s sleep-rough voice above him.
He jumps, because of course he does, too embarrassed to be caught red-handed.
“Sorry, I just—”
Just as he pulls his hand away, Ida catches it, drapes it over his waist and pulls him in even closer. Ida nuzzles the top of his head as he does, and Aoki, so overwhelmed by the tenderness of it all, can’t wrap his head around how much love he feels for this boy, and just how impossibly loved he feels in that moment.
Ida shifts then, those strong arms loosening around him, and Aoki had to bite down on his tongue not to beg to stay, please, Ida, don’t go—
“Aoki, are you okay?”
Ida’s leaning on his elbow now, looking at him with a concern so genuine it makes him choke up.
“What—”
Only when Ida reaches up to brush his tears away does he realize he’s been crying.
“Is it something I did?” Ida asks, brows knotting and lips pulling in a tight line.
Oh no, please don’t make that face.
“I’m okay,” he says, ducking his head and hastily wiping at the tears. “I just…I can’t believe any of this is happening. I’m too happy right now it feels illegal.”
He feels Ida relax then with a relieved sigh that sounds a lot like a laugh and falls back in bed.
Aoki looks up from under his bangs just as Ida reaches up to brush his hair away from his eyes. His fingers stay where they are, featherlight against his cheek.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” he says, his lips curling into a smile. “I’m really happy, too.”
Aoki looks at him fully now, and every other word he was going to say dies in his throat. Ida’s gaze makes his insides feel like they’re melting, and Aoki immediately decides that he likes him like this. Soft and unguarded and completely unaware how devastatingly beautiful he is.
“Come here?”
Ida opens his arms at him, and embarrassment be damned, Aoki wants this too much to deny himself any longer. He makes his way back into the sanctuary of Ida’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck and breathing in his scent, and Aoki can’t help but feel like he belongs there.
He feels Ida’s arms wrap around him again, tight as he pulls him close. Aoki finds comfort in the warmth pressed against his skin, and Ida’s slow, even breaths tempt him back to sleep.
Eyes closed and his own breathing evening out, Aoki feels a kiss on the top of his head.
I love you, he thinks helplessly in his head. So much.
“I love you, too.”