Work Text:
"Just how many photos are you going to take?"
Goro is draped over the worn couch. After a few of his complaints—to the tune of "I will never be able to look at this couch again, Akira."—He managed to gather the spare summer sheets from his storage box and spread it over the leather. Goro's head droops back against the couch's arm, looking at Akira with a far-off gaze. His chest rises and falls with his breath, slow and steady. One of his hands conceals the slight curve of his breast, long fingers drumming at the top of his sternum. Impatient.
Across from him just a few feet away, Akira kneels to get level with Goro's face. In contrast to his subject, he's fully clothed. A grin appears on his face, viewable from behind the bulky plastic of the camera. Between the warm streetlights seeping into the room from the window and the orange tones of the ring light set up behind him, Akira might be able to catch the flecks of freckles across Goro's face.
Click.
The feeder churns out another image. He places it face down on the table next to the couch.
Akira sits on the floor next to Goro, reaching up to pull his face closer. Goro croons into the touch, reaching back to reciprocate. His touch is much less reverent— pulling at the root of Akira's curls, biting his bottom lip halfway through the kiss.
"Ah—" Akira gasps, attempting to pull away in order to get up onto the couch.
Goro doesn't let him, pulling him closer by his hair.
That's fine. Akira lets his hands wander, instead. His thumb presses into the soft skin next to Goro's hip bone, his hands sliding upward to massage into his waist. He ends his leisurely motion up by his shoulders only to dig his nails back down to his waist. Goro shivers and pushes him away.
"Get undressed." There's a heat in him that boils up to his flushed shoulders.
Akira doesn't have much reason to argue with that. He tosses his turtleneck over to his bed. It lands in a crumpled pile.
"Jeans, too." Goro shuffles over to sit up. His eyes linger on Akira, giving a drawn out scan from the top of his head to his feet.
"Working on it." He does as he's asked, taking his socks with them. He gracelessly drops the denim on top of his sweater. When he sits next to Goro, he climbs into his lap with an agitated huff.
Goro's knee slots itself between Akira's thighs, showing off he wet spot between his own when he sits. Goro nudges Akira's clothed cock as he gets comfortable, causing him to let out a quiet sigh.
That makes Goro laugh. "All it takes is me kissing you?" No, he had been torturously hard since he started taking the photos of Goro in just those stupid briefs. His sweater did a lot of good to conceal it for the last half hour. Akira prefers him to believe it was Goro's tongue in his mouth.
"You're one to talk." Akira lifts his leg to add a bit of pressure against Goro's cunt. Goro rocks his hips against Akira's thigh, shaking his head.
"It wasn't that kiss."
"So what was it? The photos?" He leans forward to place his lips against Goro's jawline.
"Didn't I say I liked them?" Goro stands, hooking his thumb into the waistband of his briefs. He lets the drop to the flooring of the attic, and he steps out of them. God he was perfect. One day Akira will wake up and this will all be some months-long dream.
"If all it takes to get you worked up is a bit of appreciation…" Akira hums in pause. "I think I could do that indefinitely."
The tips of Goro's ears were red at this point. "Just shut up and fuck me, already."
Akira pulls Goro back onto the couch, letting him get comfortable before he hovers over him. Goro stares up at him, vulnerable. On an average day, Akira couldn't tell if Goro saw himself predator or prey. Today, Akira thinks he might to eat Goro whole. His lips press against Goro's neck, scraping teeth on skin. He bites down on his collar, leaving marks and bruises along the way. Despite the way his head is thrown back, Goro's fingers knowingly touch the marks he left on Akira a few days prior. Akira's fingers find their way between Goro's thighs, two of them slipping inside with no resistance.
"Fuck." Goro's breathing speeds up.
Akira whispers into Goro's ear. "You're gorgeous." His thumb rubs languid circles around Goro's clit. He shakes at the touch. "I've wanted you since the moment we met."
"Pervert." The word escapes on his breath, ending up in the air around Akira's head.
"You asked for this." Akira curls his fingers, fucking them slow and deep. "Constantly showing off in front of me. You knew how bad I wanted you. Stringing me along."
"What's it like?" Goro lets out a moan, feeling himself getting closer just from this. Words, fingers. "Getting everything you wanted."
Akira's mouth finds the soft skin around Goro's nipple, his tongue swiping broad, messy strokes against it. "Better than I could have ever imagined."
Goro's hand probes for Akira's waistband, sliding inside and grabbing at the base of his cock. Between shivers, he manages to mumble two words. "Want you."
Akira feels his eyes flutter at the touch. His long lashes press against his glasses. Did he leave those on? Suddenly, his head feels scattered. "Let me just," Akira slips out of Goro, slick dripping out from behind his fingers. There's like, three condoms hidden in his bag somewhere. He goes to fish for them in the bag propped beside the couch.
Goro presses his fingers against Akira's chest, pushing him backwards on the couch. "All of you."
His mind goes completely blank. What?
He stares—paralyzed—as Goro throws his boxers towards the rest of his clothes and climbs on top of him. He places the length of Akira's dick between his folds, rocking his hips against him. He's so warm and wet. He wants… What?
"Use your words, Akira." Goro tucks a lock of his own hair behind his ear. His hands on Akira's chest keeps him stable. Maintaining the pace, he makes sure Akira's cock is nice and slippery for the both of them.
"Are you sure?"
"I don't ask for things I don't want."
They've messed around plenty before, but Goro had only let him use more than his mouth or fingers once. Back in November. Goro hands rolling that condom onto his cock is an image seared permanently into his memory.
"The consequences for me aren't like—" He's interrupted with a tight fist around the base of his length.
"Shut up, Akira. Do you want to cum inside me, or not?" Goro's set on his knees, balanced carefully just above Akira. One movement is all it would take.
"God. Yes. I do. Please." His words come out pathetically. Who could say no?
Goro inhales as he lines Akira up with his hole. He closes his eyes and holds his breath. He allows gravity guide him downwards to meet his hips to Akira's. Akira sees fireworks light up behind his eyelids. It might be minutes—longer?—before either of them moves. And it's Goro who does it, leaning forward to remove the glasses off of Akira's face.
"You feel so good." Akira opens his eyes, studying Goro's face attentively.
"Mhm." Goro balances himself with his hands on Akira's chest, again. He lifts his hips, and sinks back down. Trialing the feeling. He shivers, feeling Akira bottom out again.
How did I get so lucky? He thinks. Or, maybe says out loud. Goro's eyes remain closed, but his browline furrows in frustration. It was out loud.
He raises his hips again, setting a pace. "Because I wanted you, too." It's shaky at first, figuring out the way to hold his own weight and maintain a steady tempo. "The second I saw you." Goro is struggling speak between thrusts. "The moment you spoke back to me." Akira helps him stabilize by holding onto his hips. "I knew," he hisses as he fucks himself on Akira faster, "I wa—needed to ruin you."
He had. Akira felt completely eroded. Nothing would ever be right for him again, not without Goro. Not without the pull of his venom. "I'm yours. I'll always be yours." Akira slurs out, feeling himself get closer. Closer.
Goro was now comfortable enough to set a brutal pace, Akira has the brief thought that he might end up breaking the couch. It didn't have a lot of life left. "I don't get you." Goro huffs. "I don't fucking get you."
Akira can't keep up at this point, his hands hold Goro closer, bringing his lips to his own. "I'm—"
"Just do it." Goro gasps out against Akira's mouth. He's shaking. Akira has hardly touched him… Is he—? Akira feels his hips buckle as he clenches so tight around him.
Akira chokes out a moan when he spills over. "Goro." He unconsciously runs his hand through his hair. Goro doesn't move, other than to wrap his arms around Akira's waist.
They stay like this for awhile. The warmth of silence between them is more soothing than song. Akira feels the tug of sleep on his soul. He presses his lips to the shell of Goro's ear. He takes a breath to speak.
Goro opens his mouth first.
"Don't say it." The words come out crueler than intended. He won't apologize for it. Instead, he begs.
"Please."
So, he doesn't.