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Safe to say, Aki is confused by how he ended up in this situation. He’s unsure why Denji is currently situated on top of him, while he is beneath, forced to endure Denji’s…sexual dominion. Aki doesn’t remember what led up to all of this, he really doesn’t.
All he really knows is that the sight of tousled blond hair sticking to a flushed and sweaty face is arousing to him. Like, to an embarrassing degree. He’s keenly aware of the creaking of his wooden bed frame that rhythmically knocks against the wall, in sync with the consistent undulation of Denji’s hips when his butt kisses Aki’s pelvis. There’s also the carnal ambience bolstered by the sound of skin slapping against skin. The grunts of pleasure and concentration that echoes throughout the room. Quiet whimpers, the breathlessness with interjections of sharp gasps and heavy exhales are supremely sensual to the point where it makes Aki lightheaded.
It’s difficult to concentrate on anything else when there is a pleasant buzz in Aki’s skull. What makes it especially hard to focus, to formulate and then articulate his words in a coherent manner is the innocuous scorching, tightness encircling his cock. Inside, it’s soft and silky. So delightful. Definitely enough to have him craving its unrelenting grasp around his length. Aki doesn’t want it to end, not when there is something pleasant coiling in the pit of his stomach, tingling about his crotch, and in the process of unwinding in due time.
“De—Denji, you’re so…so dirty,” Aki says between pants, struggling to keep his composure. But with each lascivious roll of Denji’s hips, Aki finds his poise waning. Very, very slowly.
Actually scratch that. It’s getting absolutely obliterated. If Denji doesn’t cease riding his cock like his life depends on it within the next few moments, there’s no telling what Aki will do.
Whatever happened to being calm and collected? Prim and proper Aki? With his hair tied up and not a single strand of hair astray? Always checking his reflection to ascertain his appearance is flawless before greeting his superiors? Respectful and professional. All. The. Damn. Time. Yet, here he is: already falling apart. Past the transitional stage of Composed Aki and Wrecked Aki; the antithesis of the image that he has so carefully crafted and maintained. And all because of what? Some stupid scum with blond hair who’s wildly bouncing on his cock.
Aki just decided that Denji is the bane of his existence.
“‘m not,” Denji punctuated, accompanied with a ruthless slam of his hips, forcing Aki’s dick to go in deeper, “fuckin’ dirty.”
The sensation of just how far he is buried in Denji is pulls a groan out of Aki. Denji would have laughed in his face had he not been preoccupied with ruminating over Aki’s words.
Of all the things Aki has said to Denji tonight, that is what bothers him? What an idiot.
“Oh yeah?” Aki asks, breathless. With the way Denji seems competent at pleasuring himself, Aki begs to differ.
Denji’s pace does not falter, “Yeah. ‘cause I shower eh—everyday.”
What?
Momentarily, words have escaped Aki. He collects his bearings as Denji grinds himself down especially hard. Aki’s balls to get caught, squished, and rubbed between Denji’s plush asscheeks.
“That’s not—” What Aki wants to say is that he didn’t mean that type of dirty. He meant it in the sexual way. Aki doesn’t get the chance to voice this because his mind is quick to focus on something else.
A warm fluid dribbles down Aki’s balls. He at least has some remainder of a sound mind to assume that it must be his spend spilling out of Denji’s hole. The realization and consequent explicit visual image (no doubt pornographic) of how filthy that must look floods his mind.
Aki wonders how long they’ve been at it.
When he casts a glance at Denji, the boy looks, from an objective point of view, unwell. His mouth is agape; drool is smeared across his cheek and drips down his chin. To top it all off, Denji has gone cross-eyed.
Mere moments ago, Denji was so concentrated on sinking himself down on Aki’s dick in increments to adjust to Aki’s size. Once he got an adequate amount of Aki in his greedy hole, Denji devoted himself to searching for the one and only carnal button that when pressed, would grant him an enhancement of physical pleasure. Now, he looks five seconds away from unapologetically unraveling atop Aki.
Who knew all it took for the kid to shut up and be obedient was a cock shoved up his ass? Aki certainly did not.
It’s hard to keep up with Denji’s chaotic rhythm. He keeps slamming himself down on Aki’s poor dick! Denji’s movements make Aki feel like he’s caught up in Denji’s frenzy, which isn’t far from the truth given that Denji is a man on a mission to capture his sweet climax.
That being said…
There’s just no way Aki can keep up with Denji right now. All he can do is let things run its course, allow Denji to carry on riding his god-gifted girth that throbs and begs to burst inside Denji soon.
There’s a tingling feeling rippling across his lower region. Spreading slowly like controlled wildfire.
Denji begins to babble, trying to get his point across because apparently, he’s not done refuting Aki’s claim that he’s “dirty.”
“I—uh—make sure that I’m squeaky,” upon saying the word ‘squeaky’ a reedy moan tumbles from Denji’s spit-covered lips, “uhmm…clean. Yeah! ‘m squeaky clean, you…you jerkface.”
The admission is admittedly cute. Aki can’t help but allow a soft smile to overtake his face, brushing off Denji’s insult at the end.
Aki wants to tease Denji into divulging more, whatever his lust-addled brain can is willing to share. Or slip up.
“Is that so?” he says, mirth dancing in his tone.
Denji nods his head with vigor. “Yes!” he said, on the verge of orgasming.
“And why is that?”
“Becuh…,” Denji tapersoff when he angles his hips just right. Well, almost. Just then, he was able to graze his prostate, but only by a little! Next time, he wants to hit it dead on the spot! Like that archery thingy…what’s it called again?
“Bullseye?” Aki supplies and Whoops, did Denji say all that out loud?
Before Aki can respond, Denji slaps a hand over Aki’s mouth. “Doesn’t matter…as I was sayin’ it’s ‘cause if I’m clean then I’ll always smell good and then—then we can fuck whenever! And not—you won’t be grossed out by me,” Denji slurs.
Hips thrust up into Denji unceremoniously. “Oh, God,” Aki chokes out. The sound muffled by Denji’s palm.
That’s such a Denji thing to say and Aki wants to burst. Denji really is like a damn puppy. Following his owner around diligently and wanting to please them as often as he can. Yeah, Aki isn’t going to last much longer if Denji keeps this up.
A puppy. He’s like a stupid puppy.
For some arbitrary reason, Aki feels a rising need to one-up Denji. It’s only fair since the brat has been spewing all these…these things that have surely been employed to catch Aki off guard!
What was it that Denji said before?
Archery? Bullseyes?
Light bulb: Denji’s prostate.
That’s Aki’s ticket to beating the little shit in this unspoken game of tug-of-war.
Prying Denji’s hand off of his mouth, Aki props himself on his elbows. Plants his feet on the wrinkled bed sheet of his futon, then drives his hips upward. Denji yelps and scrambles for purchase.
“Hey! You asshole!” Denji says, fuming at stupid topknot shithead because he was almost there before Aki threw him for a loop with that fucking stunt of his!
Denji doesn’t have time to stew in his thoughts because Aki suddenly grabs his biceps and pulls him forward, toward Aki. Their faces inch closer and Denji really believes that Aki is pulling him in for a kiss. Sadly (sadly?), Denji is proven wrong almost instantly when instead of Aki angling their faces in the same way people do when they are about to kiss, he tilts his face slightly down and away from Denji’s.
Denji notes Aki’s furrowed eyebrows. The way his eyes haven’t flitted up to meet Denji’s. Like, not even once.
Only when Denji finally accepts that they are not going to kiss does he realize that Aki has brought their foreheads together.
It’s…intimate. Both their foreheads are sticky with sweat. Aki doesn’t seem to mind, so Denji doesn’t mention anything.
“Watch,” Aki says. Monotone, as if he’s in a trance.
Aki still hasn’t looked at him yet, focused on something else that Denji isn’t privy to at the moment.
Due to their proximity, Denji notices just how dilated Aki’s pupils are.
What’s got him so…
Oh.
Oh.
Wow. Woah. Okay.
What the hell.
Amber eyes trace the planes of their bodies to find out what Aki seems so engrossed with. They land on the junction where Aki’s length disappears and reappears from Denji’s butt.
He swallows thickly.
Yeah, it totally makes sense now. He gets why Aki—the disgusting fuckin’ pervert—was so distracted.
It’s ‘cause he was staring down there!
‘There’ as in the origin of all the lewd squelching and plapping sounds. ‘There’ as in where loads and loads of a white, viscous fluid spill out between their bodies, most notably out of Denji’s pink and sullied asshole. It's like webs fan out each time Aki’s pelvis pulls away from Denji’s ass. Then he breaks it all up when he rams back in.
“Aki,” Denji warbles. Calls his name again to get the perv to just look at him.
“Hmm?” Aki says, reluctantly dragging his eyes away from where their bodies connect to stare at Denji.
“You obsessed or something?” Denji asks, needing to know why the usually stoic man is so fascinated by that.
“Guess I am,” Aki drawls.
That doesn’t quell Denji’s curiosity, doesn’t answer his unvoiced question. Not in the slightest.
On another note, Denji swears his heart does not skip a beat. Neither does it stutter a couple times before beating against his rib cage like a maniac. It doesn't. It really fucking doesn’t.
Pochita! Calm down!
Thank God Aki wasn’t staring at Denji when he said that—returning his gaze back to the site of eroticism—because Denji seriously might have punched the fucker square in the face so that he wouldn’t be able to see the red flush rampaging across his chest. In the moonlight, it would definitely look like he was glowing.
Denji is overheating. He is so overheating right now, and it’s all Aki The Pervert’s fault!
“You!—”
He is cut off when Aki cants his hips, the head of his cock pressing right up against Denji’s prostate. Wantonly, he wails.
Their neighbors and other roommate, Power are totally going to regard them with disturbed looks in the morning.
Aki makes eye contact with Denji and smirks. “What about me?”
Despite Aki’s half-lidded eyes and hoarse voice, this time, Denji doesn’t flounder. “What’re you tryin’ to play at here? Huh, you jerk!”
Aki reponds with another direct jab to Denji’s sweet spot that has him experiencing a full-body shudder, tears pooling in his eyes. “H—hey,” he whines.
Even then, Aki’s assault to his prostate is relentless, and Denji can do nothing but accept his horrible fate.
(Ever the stubborn one, for Denji will never admit to Aki just how much he likes the pleasure he’s being gifted.)
As if reading his mind, Aki says, “You’re enjoying this.” Not an accusation; just the cold, hard facts.
Of course, Denji being Denji just has taking full offense to even the undeniable truth.
“Am not!”
Aki shrugs and rewards? punishes? Denji with another thorough grind to his prostate. And now, Denji is reduced to a red-faced and pliable mess of a boy.
“Aki—I’m gonna…please. I—”
One precise thrust later has Denji convulsing around Aki’s pulsing cock. Toes curling and thighs jerking. Cum splatters on both their heaving chests. His hole spasms around Aki, clenching down on in short bursts as if trying to coax Aki’s orgasm out of him this very instant, begging the man to hurry up and cum inside.
“Fuck, don’t say—”
Aki doesn’t get to finish since Denji clamps down on his dick one last time. Within seconds, he’s making a mess of Denji, painting his insides white for the nth time tonight.
::::::::::
The only sounds bouncing off the walls of the bedroom are Denji and Aki’s heavy pants. Neither have made any initiative to move from their positions.
Idly, Aki brushes his thumb back and forth across Denji’s arm. Denji continues resting his cheek on Aki’s chest.
“We have to clean up,” says Aki.
Denji yawns.
::::::::::
After Aki gets Denji to roll off him so he can clean them both up with wet wipes, he notices just how much he came in Denji. Aki didn't expect there to be so until he comes face to face with the sight of globs of cum gushing out of Denji’s puffy hole, translucent streaks of white on his ass and thighs.
“You almost done down there?” Denji asks.
“Yes, almost.”
Aki ends up staring for a few more seconds. He can’t help but admire his work. Mentally, he snaps a picture of the sight in front of him, ensuring that it will be burned onto his retinas for quite some time.
::::::::::
After changing into new boxers, they get ready for sleep. For real this time. Denji is faced away from Aki, softly breathing. It’s peaceful. Aki can’t remember the last time he felt drained before getting ready for bed.
Darkness invades his sight once he shuts his eyes.
Until it doesn’t.
Visions of the quintessential creampie he made of Denji minutes ago appear, and distantly, Aki kind of regrets those mental snapshots he stored in his memory.
All too soon, the frazzled state of his brain fizzles out; Aki is restless again. Every time he shuts his eyes, those images pop up behind his eyelids. He’s left wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.
Arousal brews, and his cock swells. Soon enough, there’s a tent between his legs. Unshielded from the cool air due to Denji hogging all of the blankets to himself.
And unfortunately for Aki, Denji also hasn’t fallen asleep either. Denji rustles on his side of the bed.
“Hey, Aki—” Denji whispers just as he turns around. The moment he does, his eyes gravitate to Aki’s hard-on. At a loss for words, Denji gapes.
Attempting to cover it up is pointless because one, Denji already saw. Two, Aki’s hands would not do a decent enough job of hiding his “little” problem without it looking suspicious anyway.
“You’re fucking joking.”
“Nope. Just ignore it. It should go away soon.”
“You sure?” Denji eyes him dubiously.
If Aki didn’t know any better, he’d have interpreted Denji’s concern as mild interest.
“Yes,” Aki says, “Why? You wanna help me out?”
Who is he kidding? His words may be implying that they should give it a rest, but truthfully, he kind of hopes that Denji might be up for another round.
“B—but we just changed into new clothes!”
And what do you know? Denji is actually considering it.
“That’s true.”
Rustling from Denji’s side has Aki tracking the boy’s movement out of the corner of his eye. He remains still as Denji crawls from his side of the bed to Aki.
Calloused fingers fiddle with the hem of Aki’s shirt, tentative to lift it up. Even as Denji straddles Aki, Aki does not move, transfixed by Denji’s eagerness.
Denji scowls, displeased by Aki’s listlessness. “We gonna do this or what?”
Aki clears his throat. “Right. Yeah, sorry.”
A huff from Denji. Aki chuckles. “Can’t believe you’re such a horndog, Aki.” Denji says something else under his breath that sounds a lot like “fucking perv”.
(Aki can’t really argue with that.)
He lets out a noncommittal hum, hands moving to pull the waistband of Denji’s sleeping shorts and underwear down so he can have access to Denji’s bare ass.
Aki licks his lips, impatient to bury himself in that familiar tight heat once more.
When Denji’s shorts are bunched at the knees as he raises himself above Aki’s erect cock, hand loosely holding the weeping thing in place slide it in Denji’s lubricated hole, Aki can’t help but brood over how he did this to himself. Losing sleep over wanting fuck his roommate-colleague-devil hybrid who seems just as zealous in indulging them both. Which by the way, he’s definitely developed a breeding? kink? Or maybe he just has a silly, little obsession with making creampies out of a specific blond? He’d much rather push those thoughts to the farthest recesses of his mind.
We’re both hedonistic idiots. That’s a given.
Might as well make the most of it, then. The night is still young after all.