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Koya has never considered himself particularly kinky but this newest assignment is starting to prove him wrong.
It probably doesn't help that he's been paired with a senior, one he really admires at that, and his poor lizard brain can't quite tell the difference between outfit hot and senpai amazing. There's just something about the way Kanae’s maid dress swishes as he takes a bow that has Koya a little transfixed, a second too late to drop into his own bow before their temporary “master”.
The old man doesn't seem to notice, thankfully, but Kanae cuts him a look when they straighten up. Koya stares straight on, years of cruel, gruelling training the only thing keeping him from apologizing on the spot. Their mission is far from over and it's going to be a good few weeks before either of them can abandon their servant uniforms and return to the shadows of their organization.
It's fine. Koya will deal with it somehow.
*
Somehow comes sooner than expected, late at night when Koya is supposed to be asleep and not using his emergency burner phone to watch porn in the relative privacy of the servant quarters.
He quickly finds out that maid outfits are a fairly popular kink. There's a lot of content to pick from but somehow none of it feels right. The “maids” in most of the videos are all scantily clad, with skirts that barely cover their asses, nylons and garter belts on full display. Koya gets that's the point but he's also aware of the sheer amount of manual labor Kanae has to do every day. A skirt this short and this tight would never be comfortable to work in and it kind of ruins the illusion.
Still, he's come this far. He finally settles on a video where a pretty girl in twin braids starts off dusting an obviously clean cupboard. Her skirt is still obscenely short but it's fluffy, and there's a hint of a petticoat when she bends down in a way that's way too low to be any useful to her cleaning but does a great deal to show off the lace of her panties. Koya slips a hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants right as the girl's “master” shows up and scolds her for doing a bad job. Or maybe she's too slow? Koya isn't exactly paying attention to what they're saying, even less so when the interaction ends in her being pushed down on her knees. The camera keeps zooming on the swell of her boobs barely contained in the top of her dress or the guy’s dick in her hands, then in her mouth. Koya doesn't even bother to imagine himself in the guy's place. It won't do anything. What does a lot though is the few times the camera pans to the rest of the girl. Like this, from above, it almost looks like her skirt splays on the floor, like there's more than ten centimeters of it. Koya imagines it bunching under his fingers and feels himself twitch in his hands.
Soon enough, the dress is gone altogether. It's an instant turn off but Koya has gotten too far now to give up, or worse, to find another decent video. He closes his eyes and lets the girl’s somewhat exaggerated moans fill his ears and his imagination fill the rest. In his mind, she still has the dress on and it's longer, touches her calves and flows around her on the floor. Instead of the ridiculous square cleavage her top is buttoned all the way up, topped off with a little bow, the collar of the shirt underneath crisp and ironed to perfection—
Koya spills right as his hazy mind conjures the person wearing the maid dress.
On the screen, the girl is completely naked now, getting railed on her side, but her definitely fake moans barely register anymore. Instead, Koya’s mind is full of Kanae, covered head to toe in his uniform, his maid uniform, looking up at him the way the girl in the video had been looking up at her “master”.
Well, fuck.
*
“You've been slacking,” Kanae tells him some few days later.
The thing is, Koya hasn't been. He's been putting extra effort into not letting his newfound obsession with Kanae and Kanae's uniform hinder his duties, both the real and the pretend ones. He knows for a fact that neither their target, nor the rest of the staff have noticed anything. But then again, Kanae is notorious for being a perfectionist to a fault, of course he noticed.
Still, Koya would rather die than admit it.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he says with an ease he doesn't feel.
Kanae narrows his eyes but doesn't press further. They're still in the communal servant quarters and they're still new enough that the rest are looking at them a little weird. They passed the target’s screening process fairly easily, but gaining the trust of the staff is a whole different story. They've been making good progress, mostly thanks to Kanae—certainly not enough for the others to look past a squabble, though. They both know this, and Koya produces his most innocent smile before he nods at him and walks away.
He hopes to god Kanae doesn't get a chance to corner him alone before the end of their assignment, when Koya will be able to avoid him like the plague undisturbed.
*
Privacy is a thing awarded to the rich around these parts, so there are only a few places where Koya could get it while pretending to be a diligent and obedient butler. Which makes it all the more frustrating when Kanae slips into his shower stall, right before Koya is about to succumb to thoughts of…
Well. Kanae.
“You’re a hard man to pin down,” Kanae says, completely unperturbed by the lack of clothing on Koya, or his valiant attempts to shield himself. Kanae himself is in a similar state of undress, this being the servant bathroom and all, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it one bit.
“We saw each other this morning,” Koya points out.
There’s still a chance to get out of this, if only he resists the urge to let his eyes wander, to trace the swoop of Kanae’s neck, the—
The walls have ears in these kinds of places, Koya reminds himself, in a desperate attempt at distraction. Kanae would never bring up their assignment and without it, he has little to no grounds to question Koya’s behavior. Koya has made sure that his butler duties are carried out perfectly, and his intelligence work has been advancing on schedule. His faults mostly boil down to staring at Kanae a little longer than strictly necessary, but he’s seen no less than two maids blatantly check him out too, so he doesn’t feel it stands out too much.
“We sure did,” Kanae agrees. A pause. Then, “interesting. You don't seem to be as distracted now.”
Koya almost chokes on air. A good thing, he tells himself, that's a good thing. If he can keep it in his presently non-existent pants in front of a nude and very, very close Kanae, he can most definitely claim plausible deniability for whatever he thinks Koya is doing. Which is nothing. Except maybe regular trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night—
Kanae’s fingers trail down Koya’s exposed shoulder and he tragically fails at suppressing a shudder. He still has not looked past Kanae’s collarbone, though, so he counts it as a win.
“Interesting,” Kanae says again.
And just like that, he's gone. Koya is left alone in his stall, trying in vain to gain control over his breathing again. There is no sound outside; Kanae is too good for that. He’s probably gone, satisfied with whatever information he stole off Koya’s body language. That's certainly what Koya would have done in his place. It’s embarrassing, both as someone trained to deal in intelligence and someone hopelessly horny for his professionally perceptive coworker. Koya allows himself a single, whispered fuck.
Which, of course, is the exact time the shower in the stall next to him comes to life.
Koya's forehead thuds against the opposite wall, subtlety be damned.
*
The assignment is much more important than Koya’s stupid kinks. He's too good to jeopardize the actual mission with his dick, but it doesn't make carrying it out any less difficult.
Kanae seems to have it out for him, too. Armed with whatever he learned from their bathroom stint, he seems to take pleasure in making Koya suffer. An extra brush of hands here, an accidental bump into his thigh there, all things perfectly normal to the outside world and all things that most definitely did not happen before. Koya’s late-night fantasies of the bathroom incident and what would have happened had he looked down evolve into Kanae shoving him in the dusty broom closet which the head housekeeper sometimes smokes in. Usually it's followed by Kanae letting Koya have his way with him but lately, this too has evolved into Koya being shoved down instead.
He’s not sure which is hotter anymore. What he is sure of, however, is that they're both equally bad ideas.
*
The assignment is over. Almost.
They have already learned what they can, which turned out to be rather inconvenient, so the objective has changed: their “master” must die.
Koya takes the news with an impassive expression, resolutely ignoring the tiny sliver of satisfaction. He’d noticed how the old geezer looked at the maids. At Kanae, too. He’s sure that if they stayed longer, integrated further, one or both of them would have reached his bed. Maybe Kanae has? You can never tell with him, and the idea makes Koya want to throw caution to the wind and end the man then and there.
A plan is set in motion. They have seven days to prepare, strike and disappear.
That same night, Kanae is waiting on Koya’s bed, still in his uniform.
The room is empty. Koya doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes trail up the visible parts of Kanae’s legs, then the hem of his skirt, then the little bows along his apron.
“We have an important task coming up,” Kanae says. “I can’t have you distracted.”
His voice is soft, maybe even a little concerned. Innocent. As if he’s talking about the weekly grocery delivery they’re expecting tomorrow. For anyone listening, that’s exactly what he means.
Not for Koya, though. Koya knows. There’s a shiver running up his spine, racing with the glint in Kanae’s eyes as he hitches his skirt higher.
“I’m never distracted,” Koya says. A half truth. He’s always a little distracted these days. Never enough to matter, always enough to be noticed if you know where to look. Luckily for him, most people don’t.
Unluckily for him, the only person that does in this mansion is sitting on his bed.
“Get on your knees, Koya,” Kanae says, soft and irrefutable.
In the end, Koya isn’t sure any amount of porn would have prepared him for the feeling of cock in his mouth but as the skirt splays over him, it doesn’t really matter. Kanae lets him ruin his pristine stockings and Koya has always been a quick learner.
*
Kanae pulls the trigger and Koya is the alibi.
The old man vanishes without a trace overnight, along with a good chunk of his valuables, and amidst the inheritance disputes that immediately break out, people barely spare a thought for the staff.
When they are eventually questioned, it quickly turns out that they weren't as alone as Koya thought that first night, or the two other nights that followed. No one blinks twice when Kanae stammers and blushes when asked where he was and Koya is much the same. He likes to think the fact that only one of them was acting aids their case.
It occurs to him, then, that the whole song and dance may have just been a ploy to lay the foundations of their smooth exit. It would make sense—thinking twenty steps ahead is yet another thing Kanae is notorious for. The thought of him seeing an opportunity in Koya and exploiting his lust should make him feel used, even dirty, but it only succeeds in expanding the already long list of things Kanae does that have him a little lightheaded.
No point in any of it now. In a few days, they'll be picked up in an indistinct taxi and they'll go their separate ways, never to meet again unless the higher ups decide Koya is good enough for another high profile assignment.
Deep down, he hopes Kanae deems it necessary that they keep the blushing lovers ruse until they leave.
*
They are picked up in different taxis, in the end. The days between the old man’s disappearance and their departure were full of Kanae curling closer to him than he usually did each time there were eyes on him. He played the confused and scared maid perfectly, and Koya could only try to keep up.
Their nights were spent apart, though.
It's fine. All good. Koya is now going home where no one will judge the time he spends in the bathroom or the sounds that come from it. What he thinks about in his private time is no one's business but his own.
*
Almost a week later, Wen hipchecks him on the way to the organization’s underground shooting range.
“I hear your first high profile assignment was a resounding success,” he grins. “With Kanae, too. I’m a little jealous, not gonna lie.”
Only years of practice allow Koya not to spontaneously combust on the spot. “Sure. He’s a great partner.”
“So jealous,” Wen sighs. “I also heard he was singing your praises to the big bosses. How does it feel to be endorsed by the most powerful agent here?”
They're at the range now, and Koya pauses, gun half out of its holster. “He what?”
“Oh?” Wen immediately perks up. “Did something go wrong?”
“No,” Koya denies immediately. By all accounts, the assignment went as smoothly as it could have. “We just didn’t exactly get close? So I’m surprised he cared enough to praise me.”
What did Kanae even praise him for? He’s proud of his work, horny accidents notwithstanding, but nothing really stands out in his mind. Unless… But Kanae wouldn’t mention their other activities, would he? The thought of Kanae thinking about the times Koya blew him in the servant quarters has him a little hot under the collar, but the thought of Kanae telling people about them, their bosses nonetheless. Well.
Exhibitionism crossed off the list of Koya’s newly discovered kinks, at least.
Wen continues chattering in between rounds, about things that happened while Koya was gone, about how he wishes he’d get a high profile assignment soon, too. Koya tunes out most of it, lost in thought.
Now that he has a bit of a break in between assignments, maybe he can attempt to take care of his Kanae Issue. Surely there are other hot people out there. There has to be at least one willing to fuck him.
*
On a new burner phone, Koya downloads a dating app. He tailors his profile like he would a new persona for an assignment, spends some time swiping and laughs to himself when he gets eleven matches in the first five minutes. People are so predictable.
He spends some time chatting with one of the three guys he matches with—he's cute, seems nice enough, and waits a reasonable twenty minutes before he asks for a dick pic. It should be perfect but the dick pic he gets in return reminds him of Kanae a little too much.
Or maybe that's just a normal dick thing. Koya isn't exactly an expert in the area.
In the end, he makes plans with a blonde girl with impressive boobs. She's nice enough, direct, seems to be looking for the same thing he is. And most importantly, is nothing like Kanae, boobs aside.
*
She also stands him up.
He's already blocked by the time he tries to check on her through the app and Koya feels… Nothing. It doesn't matter. What he wants is not a random hot person off the internet; maybe he can try again when he eventually forgets the way Kanae's thighs felt under his fingers or the soft, barely there sounds he made as he came.
Koya groans, startling a passing stray cat. He's even scaring off animals now. Maybe what he needs is not a one night stand, but a drink. Or multiple.
He shoots off a text to Wen before he heads to one of the few bars almost entirely paid off by their organization. If there's a chance he's going to get plastered, it might as well be somewhere familiar.
*
By the time he steps through the unmarked door at the back of the bar, Koya is already regretting most of his life choices. The lounge reserved for their organization’s activities has its own bar but the space itself isn’t very big. It only has a handful of tables inside, two of them already taken. Koya decides to take the bar instead—this is apparently the one night Wen is too busy to meet up with him, and taking a table alone feels a little too pathetic.
It's Fuwa on shift today, and unlike most of the bartenders working their other locations, Fuwa actually is part of the organization, even though Koya still has no idea what he actually does. What this means, though, is that Fuwa is fully equipped to say things like,
“I hear Kanae wrecked you on that mission.”
Koya wishes the drink Fuwa is currently making was already in his hands. It would have made the flustered cough so much easier for his dignity to swallow.
“It was… hard,” he mutters, then cringes when the wording registers in his mind. “The mission, I mean. Kanae is a good partner.”
“Sure is,” Fuwa agrees.
He’s not smiling, but it’s a close thing. Koya gets the feeling that it’s at his expense.
Distantly, he wonders if sex is a normal thing that happens during high profile missions. Or maybe just high profile missions with Kanae? Feigning a relationship is something fairly common but he’s never considered just how far people would go to keep up the pretense. He imagines himself as the new guy in a long line of people who have shared Kanae’s bed because it suited their goal.
Another thing that should make him feel used. What he feels instead is a fucked up sense of accomplishment.
“You’re a hard man to pin down, Koya,” a voice says in his ear. Koya almost spills his drink.
Is he so drunk already that he’s hallucinating the object of his fantasies? But no, Fuwa is most definitely laughing at him and Koya doesn’t dream of humiliation. Not to mention, he’s barely tasted the drink in front of him.
He turns around slowly and, sure enough, Kanae is also laughing at him as he slides on the stool next to him. Unlike Fuwa’s laughter, Kanae’s sure as hell sets a fire in his insides. Fuck.
“I wasn’t aware you were looking for me?” He offers eventually.
Kanae shrugs. “I wasn’t trying very hard, to be honest. Lots of things to wrap up now that the assignment is over.”
Koya’s blood runs cold. “Was there anything I missed? But they told me things are handled…”
He mostly just gave a verbal debriefing and a rather short wrap up report, the rest covered by their semi-regular reports during the actual assignment, apparently. Did he accidentally slack off? On his assignment with Kanae of all people?
“Nothing for your pretty head to worry about,” Kanae laughs. His stool squeaks across the floor and Koya immediately loses his train of thought when a hand lands on his thigh. “I did quite enjoy working with you, though! Even told the bosses about it, did you know?”
“Get a room before he implodes,” Fuwa interrupts, laughter still shining through his words.
Koya had forgotten he’s there at all. When he looks up, however, Fuwa is not looking at him at all.
“I might just do that,” Kanae says. “Are any of the back rooms available?”
“Not in my bar,” Fuwa says immediately, voice somewhere between exasperated and a little disgusted. “I’m not cleaning whatever you leave behind in there.”
They’re talking like Koya isn’t even there. It feels like he’s stepped into some kind of an alternate reality with the way the words make sense but the meaning behind them is lost to him. A room? For what?
For—
“Killjoy,” Kanae sighs. And then, to Koya, “wanna have dinner together? I live close and there’s a lovely takeout place right down the street.”
Koya had McDonald’s before he came to the bar. He’s not thinking about that as he nods yes, or as Kanae squeezes his thigh before he gets off the stool. He doesn’t bother to see if Koya follows—of course he does.
*
They never actually stop at the takeout place.
Koya’s stomach is all tied into knots in anticipation, and then guilt for having that anticipation. Kanae has made no advances towards him, verbal or otherwise. In fact, he’s too busy talking about Fuwa, then all the food he’d been missing during their assignment, then his less-than-ideal neighbour and how he might or might not have gotten them evicted. By the time they reach Kanae’s building, Koya is convinced it’s all in his head.
It’s not better once they’re inside. Kanae is a master of small talk and all Koya can do is follow along. He makes tea which Koya has half-finished before he remembers he hates tea. Somehow the story about the failed date is pulled out of Koya and that… gets a bit of a reaction. Kanae’s eyes flicker before his expression smooths into harmless politeness again and Koya convinces himself it’s wishful thinking.
“Oh, almost forgot! I have something for you,” breaking Koya’s impending sense of doom.
“You didn't have to,” he replies on instinct. Politeness, really. He wants everything Kanae wants to give him with a desperation he'd never willingly admit to anyone.
“Mm, I think you'd like it, though.”
Kanae dips into a different room, no longer visible, but there's a subtle change in his voice that has Koya on edge all over again.
The desire flames anew. Breaks through Koya’s carefully constructed prison of logic, more like. There are very few reasons Kanae would take him home in the middle of the night. Although… Koya has taken friends home after a night out. To talk without the constant buzz of people and the anxiety of saying something they shouldn’t. Wen slept on his couch just last week. But him and Kanae are most definitely not that close, and Koya doesn’t believe for a second that he’s good enough of a conversation partner—
“Hey now,” Kanae says, as if transposed directly from Koya’s mind. “I can’t have you distracted for my big surprise.”
Koya flinches by the proximity of his voice, and then for a different reason altogether.
The bonnet is a little askew but the rest of the maid uniform is buttoned neatly, fastened in all the correct places, the little bows on his apron wide and round like they can’t be bothered with gravity. Kanae takes a step back, does a little twirl. The frilly ends of his dress lift up and he might be laughing, probably at Koya, but Koya is too busy following the tiny rip on one of his stockings trailing up his leg.
The skirt settles back down and a moment later, there are delicate fingers lifting his chin up so he’s eye to eye with Kanae.
“My eyes are up here,” Kanae says, traces of the laughter still audible in his voice. “It’s quite amusing how entranced this outfit has you. Do I look that good in it?”
“Yes,” Koya replies before he remembers he probably shouldn’t. Should he? Kanae looks pleased with the answer, at least.
Kanae’s hand moves up his jawbone, then down his neck. It’s the most he’s touched Koya—even during their late-night encounters, Kanae would at most keep a hand on the back of Koya’s head, no force behind it despite how bad Koya wished he’d push down. Now, Koya fights the urge to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation. He has a feeling it would not be appreciated.
“It’s a shame I couldn’t get my hands on your outfit as well,” Kanae sighs, when his fingers find the collar of Koya’s very normal button-up. “You looked so good in it.”
“Did I?” Koya’s voice is gravel to his own ears, and it seems to just amuse Kanae more.
His thoughts are already swirling though. Is there a possibility that Kanae lived through at least a fraction of the hell Koya put himself through? Did he think of him, did he—
Kanae’s fingers slowly trail down his arm until they wrap around Koya’s and he guides them to the bow holding his collar together.
“Go on, then. You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? Show me.”
It's not like a dam breaking because Kanae is still a little intimidating but it's a close thing. The speed at which Koya unties the bow would have him embarrassed if he wasn't already intoxicated with the skin beneath it. Kanae isn't exactly known for showing skin and, sure, living in close proximity back at the mansion has given him glimpses. Hell, that bathroom stint haunts his dreams to this day. Knowing he's allowed to see, to touch now—it’s an exhilarating feeling.
Kanae’s fingers slide into his hair as Koya kisses down his jaw, then his neck. His teeth drag along the skin, not quite daring to go any further yet.
Immediately, he’s tugged at an arm’s length, Kanae’s eyes boring into him. “And who said you’re allowed to bite, hm?”
“Sorry,” Koya says, more winded than he has any right to be after so little. “I can do better.”
He never did bite but it makes little difference in the face of Kanae’s vague disappointment.
“I’m sure you can,” Kanae says, a lazy, confident smile tugging at his lips. His eyes trail down Koya’s body like he’s appraising an object.
Koya has never been harder in his life.
*
Kanae’s bedroom is neat like the rest of his apartment. There is a faint scent of fabric softener from his sheets and they feel nice against Koya’s burning skin. He’s already been divested of his clothes but Kanae remains annoyingly covered, even if the maid uniform still sets a thousand fires in Koya’s insides.
The stockings give easily when he hooks his fingers under the bands. Koya has the perfect reach for that with Kanae in his lap, even if he can't see with the skirt of the dress in the way. It's enough to feel the stockings roll down Kanae's thighs and it would have been funny if it wasn't Kanae. Everything about Kanae is just—
“I didn't bother with the garters earlier,” he says when the stockings finally pool around his ankles. “I ripped so many of these in the mansion before I learned how to clip the garter properly.”
“I could have helped,” Koya says. There are no ulterior motives for once; Kanae sounds mildly annoyed and Koya needs the reason erased from this world. Simple as that.
His words only register when Kanae stares at him, eyebrow raised.
Koya blushes all over.
“God, you're so fucking cute,” Kanae sighs. “It was so hard not to ruin you right there in that mansion, assignment be damned.”
There are many things Koya could say to that. “You did” or maybe “did you think of the assignment when I choked on your cock?”. He would have likely never said these things out loud but he never gets the chance to anyway—they're all lost when Kanae grinds down, finally, and Koya becomes acutely aware that he didn't bother with underwear either.
Koya’s fingers sink into Kanae’s thighs, mind going haywire with fear that it's going to bruise and the overwhelming hope that it will. Kanae moans, hand finding Koya’s over his skirt. Koya can barely feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric but it's an encouragement enough, so he allows himself to touch more, grip tighter, hold Kanae in place as he grinds up into him.
“Yes,” Kanae exhales, “take what you want, come on.”
Despite being entirely bare where it matters, Kanae is all but fully clothed everywhere Koya can see. Without thinking, he pulls a hand out of Kanae’s skirts and reaches for the buttons at the front of his dress instead, his other hand still holding Kanae in place.
“Oh,” Kanae sounds intrigued, hand squeezing Koya’s through the dress. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Koya is allowed a grand total of three undone buttons before fingers wrap around his wrist, keeping him away from continuing down.
“You said I can take what I want,” Koya says, eyes glued to the newly exposed collarbones. It takes everything in him not to flip them over, litter the skin with kisses, leave a mark if Kanae would let him.
Above him, Kanae shrugs. “I changed my mind.”
He brings Koya’s fingers up, closer, holds his gaze as he slowly wraps his lips around two of them. Koya couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
“Fuck,” he mutters, already lost in the feeling of Kanae’s tongue dragging across his knuckles.
“So easy,” Kanae murmurs, placing a final kiss at the tips of Koya’s fingers. “How about you make yourself useful, hm?”
A small bottle of lube is dropped on Koya’s stomach. Briefly, he wonders what other treasures do the folds of Kanae’s dress hold. But the thought is quickly discarded when Kanae deems him too slow and coats Koya’s fingers himself. He slides a bit closer, holds up his skirt for Koya to reach under it. The glimpse of thighs bracketing Koya’s, of Kanae’s cock curving towards his stomach, the way his apron falls a little skewed when the dress flits back into place. It’s enough to deal the final blow to Koya’s fragile composure. He wants to see Kanae break just like he is breaking—
One moment Kanae is staring down at him, expectation laced with something like condescension, then it’s Koya staring down instead, the skirt of Kanae’s dress flipped almost entirely, his slippery hands digging bruises into Kanae’s skin.
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m not,” Kanae interrupts, smiling like Koya passed some kind of a test. He undoes another two buttons of his dress, lets the top part fall open fully.
As if compelled, Koya bends down, lips and tongue and teeth finally finding the column of Kanae’s neck, kissing down, biting a little harder when the first tentative nip earns him a pleased sigh. Koya keeps himself propped on an elbow, his other hand finally slipping between Kanae’s legs. He yields easily, almost like—
“You prepared for this,” Koya says. He’s two fingers deep already, no resistance, nothing to mask the way Kanae’s hips shift closer, the way he swallows him deeper.
“Prepared is a stretch,” Kanae replies, words interspersed with soft, cut-off whimpers each time Koya curls his fingers just right. “I was hopeful, though. Speaking of,” he adds, legs wrapping around Koya’s waist, pulling him closer, “hurry up.”
For once, Koya doesn’t listen. He’s mesmerised by the way Kanae twitches against him, the way he fails to conceal the changes in his expression when Koya presses a little harder, a little deeper. He was never allowed to look back in the mansion, always concealed by Kanae’s skirts. They had to be quiet then, too, and Kanae isn’t loud now but he’s not putting much effort into restraining himself either.
Suddenly, overwhelmingly, Koya needs to see him break.
He slides back, Kanae's legs falling open in the process, and ignores Kanae’s annoyed huff. Koya doesn't give him time to voice his displeasure, though. He mouths along the length of Kanae’s cock, tries to keep the pace of his fingers steady as he sinks back into the feeling of having Kanae in his mouth.
“Oh,” Kanae sighs. His hand slides into Koya's hair, just enough to keep him in place. “Not the direction I expected this to go.”
It's another novelty; the few times Kanae touched him in the mansion never felt like intent. He still thinks about the one time Kanae's composure slipped—the last time he let Koya between his legs. Koya had just learned to keep his gag reflex in check, and accidentally scraped his teeth while taking him deeper. He’d almost choked, both with Kanae coming down his throat and his thighs closing around Koya's head in the process. It was the only time Kanae made a real sound back then. The thought of how he looked then is burned into Koya’s memory like a brand.
But he gets a do-over now.
The lace of the dress tickles Koya’s nose now that Kanae is splayed out again, and he pushes it back, holds it in place as he gently scrapes his teeth along the head of Kanae’s cock before he sucks it back into his mouth.
“Wait—ah,” Kanae’s words trail off into a moan and despite his words, the fingers in Koya’s hair tighten, pushing him further down.
Koya holds Kanae’s gaze as he finally swallows him down to the base.
It’s a race downhill from there. He abandons thrusting his fingers for just rubbing along Kanae’s prostate, a constant pressure which makes him buck into Koya’s mouth. He’s far from quiet now, a near constant stream of fuckfuckfuck, broken off moans, the occasional plea. Koya isn’t sure what Kanae is pleading for exactly but he sure as hell will try his best to give it to him. Kanae has his eyes closed but Koya doesn’t, intent on committing to memory every minute change of his expression.
When Kanae comes, it’s just as sudden as it was that time back in the mansion, and Koya is just as lightheaded as he was then. He swallows without thinking, doesn’t pull off immediately even though Kanae’s grip on his hair loosens. There is something about the feeling of Kanae softening in his mouth, in the way Kanae is now brushing hair away from Koya’s eyes.
“You really are full of surprises,” Kanae laughs, but it’s breathless this time, a little scratched. Koya feels something like pride well in his stomach. “Come here,” Kanae adds after a moment, tugging at Koya’s shoulder.
Koya follows, of course he does. Yet again, Kanae catches him by surprise when he wraps his hands around his neck, then kisses him like a man starved. As Kanae’s tongue slips into his mouth, it occurs to Koya that they’ve never kissed before—not tonight, and certainly not during the assignment. Kanae kisses like his aim is to devour, all Koya can do in turn is let him take whatever he wants.
The filthy kiss is what Koya blames for barely registering when Kanae flips them over. He does feel it when Kanae trails his fingers down his cock, though.
“Wait,” Koya gasps, trying in vain to keep his thoughts from scattering with the way Kanae kisses down his neck, much like Koya had before. Kanae is a lot meaner about it, though, sucking bruises everywhere his lips touch. Koya prays they stay.
Finally, Kanae deems him marked enough and sits up in Koya’s lap. A pose much like the one they started in, if not for the top of Kanae’s dress now all skewed and unbuttoned, the skirt bunched up on one side.
“I don’t feel like waiting,” he grins and, not for the first time, Koya feels like a helpless fly caught deep in Kanae’s webs.
“You just—oh fuck,” whatever Koya meant to say is gone when Kanae sinks on his cock with no preamble.
He gasps as he bottoms out, steadying himself on Koya’s stomach. He’s still smiling when he meets Koya’s eyes but it’s a bit strained now, and his eyes roll back when Koya fails to suppress the urge to thrust up into him.
“That’s it,” Kanae groans, voice lower than Koya has ever heard it before, “you’re gonna make me come again, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Koya says, all rational thought out the window. He reaches for Kanae, fingers digging into his waist for leverage before thrusts up, again, again, sloppy and erratic and lost in Kanae’s punched out moans each time he slams into him.
“Fuck, more, c’mon” Kanae’s voice is more breath than sound and Koya scrambles to obey, desperate to hear more.
He has half a mind to flip them over again but Kanae is so beautiful like this, thighs trembling, flushed and—
Kanae lifts his skirt, holding it up with the hem between his teeth, free hand wrapping around his cock. He’s only half hard but it doesn’t seem to make a difference to him. Koya can’t stop staring.
It’s all too much, the heat of Kanae around him, the sight of Kanae’s cock filling out in his own hand, the feel of Kanae’s skin yielding under his hands. Those are definitely going to bruise. It’s the last thought Koya manages before he slams Kanae down on his cock and stays there. Kanae shivers, moans muffled by the fabric between his teeth. It falls as his mouth goes slack, right before he bucks into his hand with a moan that doesn’t quite make it out of his throat.
He slumps over Koya not long after, heavy breaths almost burning against Koya’s sweaty skin.
“I didn’t see you cum,” Koya says after a while. The words slip out unbidden and he regrets them immediately, but Kanae is already shifting to look up at him.
“And I tried so hard to give you a show, too,” he says, voice laced with disappointment even though he’s smiling.
Whatever. Might as well commit.
“Your skirts fell,” Koya points out. “And the first time… well.”
“Mm,” Kanae shifts again, shuffling until Koya’s cock finally slips out of him. He nestles against Koya’s chest again. “I guess we’ll just have to try again, then. Can’t leave an assignment unfinished.”
Again. Yeah, Koya can definitely get behind that.