Look After Me

by JaneDavitt

Summary:

Aftercare is Junta's job.

Takato comes with a gasp, a spurt, a stutter, a soft rain; cream-pearl-white on pale skin flushed pink.

Junta stares at it, plays with it, stroking his finger through it, licking his finger clean; dipping his head to drag his tongue through the cooling spunk.

"Gross… So gross…"

"Hmm?" He's not listening. No; Takato's talking; he always listens; he's just not listening.

The head of Takato's cock is darkly red, a bead of come growing, a final droplet from exhausted, drained balls.

Junta watches. It forms, breaks and trickles down. He lets it go so far, then pounces on it, lapping it up.

He never lets Takato go to sleep all messed up. Always cleans him.

He rolls Takato over and spreads his ass cheeks wide. The used, stretched, fucked raw hole is dripping spunk. How many times has he come in it? Three. Yeah, three. He won't get all of it, but he does his best…

Takato clenches his hole around Junta's invasive tongue, but he's been fucked too much to make it more than a flutter, a tired reflex. Junta sucks and laps, tasting himself but changed, transmuted into something new because it's been part of Takato, if only for a while.

He licks his lips. Takato won’t kiss him until he's brushed his teeth and tastes of mint, but that's okay, that's fine.

He'll kiss Takato instead. A dozen kisses, edging into bites in the safe places, the secret ones; grateful kisses, kisses that praise and thank and adore.

He loves fucking Takato, but the aftercare brings him to a different space; with the love between them flowing gently, along a well-worn path…yet there's always the chance…

Takato stirs, muttering his name, groggy, sleep-snatched, but his body's quivering, readying itself…

Junta smiles, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and kneels up. He's hard again; always is after this but it's not often that Takato's… Well. Past a certain point, Takato's allowed to say no.

Tonight, he's saying he wants more.

Junta's listening now.