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The setting summer sun wrapped the empty classroom in a golden blanket of warmth. Ritsuka pressed Mafuyu's hand, ran his other through his soft hair and leaned in close. Their proximity could not be explained away as casual if their teacher returned to shoo them out again.
"Come home with me," Mafuyu whispered against his trembling lips, as he pulled away to rest fully against the wall. Ritsuka's blood buzzed in time with the cicadas. "Yeah," he breathed into Mafuyu's shoulder. "Yeah, let's go."
❋ ❋ ❋
Mafuyu hummed the entire way there, knuckles brushing Ritsuka's.
Ritsuka carried his bag and fell further in love with each quiet note.
❋ ❋ ❋
The apartment was empty, except for Kedama's exuberant welcome, as the boys toed their shoes off. The school bags had barely hit the floor before Ritsuka was tugged by the sweater down the hallway and through the bedroom door. The slow click and shake of the fan echoed his breathing as the door closed behind him. Slim, calloused fingers slid around his wrists and drew him deeper inside.
Pressed close, warm and soft against his chest, Mafuyu confessed. "I want to make music with you." His hands glided along Ritsuka's forearms. "Is that ok?"
He sat heavily on the bed, unable to look away from the place where Mafuyu connected them. "We do make music together. We're in a band."
Mafuyu tilted his head and Ritsuka despaired, registering the idiocy of his words as he spoke them.
"You know that I don't know how to express myself well," he gently reminded, sitting softly next to him. "I want us to make music together--like this--romantically," he nodded at the bed. Ritsuka turned and stared at him, unspeaking.
"Aah, we don't hav--"
The force of the kiss drove Mafuyu down to the mattress with a gasp.
"No! Yeah, let's make a love song." He kissed the pale hair of Mafuyu's eyebrow, the sharp bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth, the curve of his jaw. "I'm an idiot," he said in-between these chaste deliveries of affection. "Please forgive me."
Thin arms wound around his shoulders and pulled him down. "Nothing to forgive," Mafuyu promised before opening himself to the slide of Ritsuka's lips.
Hands moved over clothes, teasing and hinting with daring strokes under hems. Ritsuka sat back on his heels and threw off his shirt. His fingertips had just brushed Mafuyu's abdomen before he sat up and his own shirt made its new home on the floor. They collapsed back into each other. Gasps grew louder and brows damper. Mouths trailed newly exposed and sensitive skin in the wake of swift caresses. The bass thrum of arousal built steadily between them. Finally, after what felt like hours of prelude, Mafuyu's clever hands pressed shamelessly against the hardness growing hot against his thigh.
"Ritsuka," he rasped, "can I?"
Ritsuka groaned his assent. Later, he would swear that Mafuyu's hum of appreciation and the metalic hiss of his zipper was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. The rough evidence of Mafuyu's guitarist hands dragged deliciously against the soft skin of his cock. His hands moved in perfect rhythm to Ritsuka's helpless thrusts. The heat coiling inside of him pulsed, his tempo quickened and his heart beat harder with each deep note. This firey rush was better than playing for any crowd. Mafuyu surged upward to seal his mouth as his hand squeezed and twisted. The string of Ritsuka's control snapped and he came, breathless and flushed, onto Mafuyu's genius hand.
Mafuyu grunted as he was crushed under the weight of Ritsuka. He pet his back and tucked a hair behind his ear.
"Ritsuka," he murmured, breath cool against his damp hair, "that was fast."
The punch Ritsuka gave him in response barely registered a huff of breath.
"Alright, lets see how long you last then," he grumbled, pushing to his knees on the bed, bright red and shinning in the evening light. With this new goal Ritsuka's focused rekindled. His mouth left red reminders on Mafuyu's neck as he worked down to his chest--stomach--abdomen. At the hinge of his thigh he looked up to meet Mafuyu's eye. The silent request was returned with a nod.
Tentative fingers wrapped around Mafuyu, sliding up and down in exploration. Mafuyu was so soft, his skin so flushed and his small noises were so encouraging. He got wrapped up and gave in to curiosity. One the fourth stoke he dipped his head and licked. Salty and dark. He did it again. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had in his mouth. Above him Mafuyu whined. Ritsuka grinned, sharp and dangerous before wrapping his lips around the head and trailing his tongue around this new experience.
"K-keep going," Mafuyu begged. Ritsuka's hummed in response, his hand picking up where his mouth left off. He tried desperately to repeat Mafuyu's actions, watching his face as each new movement caused a new response. Mafuyu's grunts and mewls were the sweetest vocals he'd ever heard. He drew his tongue down and up, fingers pressing as they followed suit. At the crown, he dipped once again to indulge in Mafuyu's growing taste. He pulled free, Mafuyu resting against his lips, his hand quickening its ministrations, to say, "Mafuyu, I want you to sing just for me."
And with the head still held in Ritsuka's mouth he did. The deep-seated groan-gasp heralding Mafuyu's pleasure echoed around him as the waves of his release filled his mouth. He pulled away in surprise and the last draped across his chin instead. He sat stunned before swallowing and wiping his face.
With a gasp from over-sensitivity, Mafuyu pulled Ritsuka off his cock and up the bed, into his arms.
"Was that ok?" he asked, fighting against embarrassment. Mafuyu, drowsy and pink, smiled and kissed him; gentle, claiming, and sweet.
"Yeah," he sighed snuggling into Ritsuka's warmth. "I can't wait to play with you again."