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It's almost midnight when Kojiro parks his bike in the parking area right outside of S. The summer heat and humidity have remained high well past sunset and his hair is already damp with sweat. He winces as he feels it drop down the back of his neck and shrugs his jacket off, leaving it hanging over the handlebars of his bike. He knows he's not going to need it tonight.
S is always busiest in summer, despite the temperatures, and he waves at regulars as he weaves through the cars, scooters and bikes and makes his way up the hill to the gates. He supposes it makes sense. Just because he and Kaoru had no problem with skating on a school night—and clearly, neither do Reki, Langa or Miya—it doesn't mean that everyone else is prone to making the same bad decisions. It explains the significantly higher number of bicycles, and the general exuberance of the crowd already beyond the iron gates, already sitting open and flanked as always by capmen.
"You poor suckers need a summer uniform," Kojiro says, giving a sympathetic grimace to the two of them, standing straight-backed in their khaki jackets and red caps. "Surely someone's made the suggestion to your boss by now."
They're too well-trained to reply and Kojiro shrugs as he walks past, putting his board down and stepping onto it.
Oh my god it's Joe, a group of teens elbow each other excitedly as he skates past, and their elbowing gets fiercer as he grins in their direction. He's so fucking cool!
Usually, he'd stop to make conversation with the bright-eyed teens that only show up in the school holidays, just to make sure they know there are safer and more legal ways to get into the scene during the term but he's distracted tonight. He's scanning the crowd for Kaoru, just in case he's already here.
They last saw each other around midday, during lunch service when the temperature was at its highest for the day. Kojiro spends good money making sure that Sia La Luce's air conditioning is kept in good order precisely for hot days like this. Still, it's impossible not to notice the blast of heat every time someone opens the front door, which is how he'd managed to look up at the precise moment Kaoru had walked in with his lunch time meeting, fanning himself with his eyes shut blissfully under the air conditioning vent right at the entrance.
Kojiro had greeted Morikawa-san, the businessman that Kaoru was with, and used it as an excuse to step around the counter and walk over.
Kaoru was looking at him by then, so Kojiro had indulged himself in looking right back. There was a bead of sweat making its way down the column of Kaoru's throat and disappearing into the collar of his kimono. Kojiro tried not to be too obvious about the way he was tracking it with his gaze but when he looked up, he paused at the way Kaoru was staring at him. Kojiro's only concession to the day's heat had been to undo the topmost button of his chef jacket and fold the panel back. He wasn't even showing any skin, but Kaoru's eyes were fixed on that one triangle of fabric. As if Kojiro wasn't frequently shirtless around him.
Even now, several hours later, Kojiro still remembers the searing heat in Kaoru's eyes, burning right through him hotter than the sun ever could.
Cherry Blossom-sama is here, a group of girls squeal, and Kojiro turns to look.
Their eyes meet across the crowded space and it's no less of a punch to the gut this time. Kojiro enjoys Kaoru as Cherry Blossom in the summer. The costume he wears might be sleeveless, but it's still hot with all the layers, the bandages and the gloves, and it means he goes without the mask.
Kojiro likes that. Not just for the full view of Kaoru’s face, but for the way it's so much easier to read Kaoru's expressions when he can see what his mouth is doing. It's why Kaoru wears the mask in the first place, aside from the anonymity it gives him.
If he's being honest, Kojiro is enjoying all of this: he and Kaoru with their eyes locked, the slow glide toward each other like a magnetic pull. He likes knowing that going without his jacket means he is guaranteed to catch Kaoru staring at some point tonight, because that's just what they do now.
Ever since Langa arrived on the scene—and maybe before then too—they've been on this slow, inexorable descent into something. It's thrilling. It's terrifying. Kojiro doesn't know what to think of it so he tries not to think at all. Not a particularly difficult ask, when his head fills with white noise at any hint that the way he wants Kaoru might be reciprocated, that Kaoru might want him back.
Even so, there's that moment right before he starts overthinking things, when he catches Kaoru looking and thinks, yeah, you want me. Kojiro wants to live in that feeling forever.
To top it all off, there's one simple fact that has made Kojiro enjoy summer ever since he was a teenager and it's that the hot weather makes it so much easier to get under Kaoru's skin.
“You're already wilting, Cherry Blossom,” Kojiro greets, once they're close enough. His voice is raised for the audience, but his lopsided grin is entirely for Kaoru. “Are you sure you'll make it down the hill in one piece?”
Kaoru's lips press together into a thin line and then twist with irritation. “Why don't you try me, you talking gorilla?”
“Think you can take me?” Kojiro smirks, watching the way Kaoru’s eyes darken.
“You’re going to embarrass yourself,” Kaoru mutters, like he’s above all of this. Like he’s not addressing half his words to Kojiro’s pecs.
Their exchange is getting enough attention that one of the capmen walk over to put them on the race schedule. The shorter course is already booked out for the night, which isn’t a surprise when there are so many people here.
It means that their race is set for the longer course that winds all the way down past the mines and ends in the abandoned warehouse. Kojiro has the advantage on the shorter courses, where his explosive power can put a decent enough distance between them before Kaoru picks up enough speed to catch up. The longer course is anyone's game, and it's the better pick for a beef between the two of them.
There are already two other races lined up for the same course, so they won't be racing until sometime past one o’clock. Kojiro can already see a flock of his fans waiting to get his attention so they can spend time with him before his race but he's reluctant to pull himself away from Kaoru already.
“Hey,” he intones, touching Kaoru's elbow to get his attention. “When's the last time you did maintenance in the warehouse?”
Kaoru has an unhealthy level of mistrust in anyone else's standards for equipment maintenance, mixed with a sizable disdain for anything Ainosuke takes ownership of. The capmen have a regular maintenance schedule to make sure that every part of S continues working as it should, from the entrance gates to the alarm system that warns of any approaching police patrols. Kaoru takes it upon himself to check their work on a regular basis.
“It's due around now,” Kaoru says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Why? Do you think I'll tamper with the finish line sensors to make sure I beat you?”
It's absolutely not what Kojiro was thinking at all, but he loves when Kaoru does his work for him and ends up annoyed without Kojiro even having to try.
“C’mon Cherry, I won't blame you for taking any advantage you can get.”
“You can help me then, if you're that concerned,” Kaoru huffs, probably not even realising that he's giving Kojiro exactly what he wants.
The warehouse is a sprawling building that is mostly unused, save for the parts of it that comprise the end part of the course and the finish line. There are a few people milling about in those areas, but Kaoru leads the way to a smaller side room filled with screens and servers that buzz with a low and steady electrical hum.
Carla interfaces with whatever system is running at S through the skateboard physically connecting with a port.
“I don't know why this surprises me,” Kojiro mutters as he watches. “Of course your skateboard is a technological multi-tool.”
“You’re a multi-tool,” Kaoru mutters under his breath. It's a tragedy that anyone ever assumes he's the more mature one between them.
“I can be versatile, yeah,” Kojiro says, and he’s aiming for flippant but lands somewhere in the vicinity of suggestive instead.
“Oh, I'm sure,” Kaoru says with a snort. He gives Kojiro a sideways glance, his eyes filled with the same kind of heat that they had during the afternoon. When he speaks again, there’s a rough edge to his voice. “You’re very good at giving people exactly what they want, aren’t you?”
Kojiro wets his lips, and his mouth feels even drier than before when Kaoru’s gaze drops to them.
With a soft curse under his breath, Kojiro steps closer to Kaoru. Those eyes snap back up to his, wide and cautious. Kaoru doesn’t back away, not even when Kojiro brings a hand up to rest on his cheek.
“Kaoru,” he whispers, stroking his thumb across Kaoru’s cheek.
“Not Kaoru,” comes the equally quiet reply. Kaoru holds his gaze. “Not here.”
Kojiro takes a breath and he’s about to ask Cherry Blossom if he can kiss him, when a shrill alarm goes off all around them. They jerk apart, eyes wide.
“Police patrol alarm,” Kojiro says, recovering first. He opens the door, glancing down the hall to make sure it’s empty. “We need to get out of here.”
Kaoru swears, turning to Carla. “I can’t just disconnect her without warning. You go. I’ll get entire S system shut down.”
“I’m not just going to—”
“Go,” Kaoru tells him, already turning his attention to one of the nearest screens. “I’ll meet you outside.”
The main entrance of the warehouse is chaos, with people shouting and tripping over each other to get out and to safety. They calm a little when Kojiro starts shouting orders, directing people out of alternate routes.
“This way,” he yells, when he sees the telltale flash of red and blue lights through the open warehouse door. The lights all throughout S shut themselves off and the alarm stops. Kojiro raises his voice. “Out the back. There’s a gap in the fence that leads to a path. Follow it and stay down. Stick together. Don’t leave anyone behind.”
Once he’s reasonably confident everyone else is going to escape without getting caught, Kojiro takes his own advice. He turns back to find Kaoru, rounding a corner as a police car drives through the open warehouse door and comes to a screeching halt.
He finds Kaoru halfway down the hall, with Carla tucked under his arm. The gentle glow of purple coming off the centre of the board is the sole source of light in the darkness. He runs over, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along. “Over here. They’re behind us.”
“There's a dead end ahead of us,” Kaoru warns as he keeps up with Kojiro. He looks behind him as they hear heavy footfalls in their direction. “They’re following us.”
“Fuck,” Kojiro mutters, feeling along the wall and trying door handles until he finds one that works. “Hurry. In here.”
He pushes Kaoru through the door first and pulls it shut behind him, expecting a room. Instead, he runs right into Kaoru. The faint purple glow coming off Carla lights up the storage closet that they’ve found themselves in. It’s empty, but it’s cramped. Kojiro is pressed up against Kaoru, chest to chest.
“Shit.”
“Shh.” The last thing Kojiro sees before Carla’s glow turns off is the glare Kaoru gives him.
In the complete darkness, Kojiro tries to listen for the footsteps of the police who were chasing them. His own breath is too ragged and loud to his own ears in this tiny space. He forces himself to take a deep breath through his nose to calm himself and immediately regrets it. All he can smell is Kaoru: sweat mixed with the sharp and spicy scent of his cologne and underneath that, the smell of his favoured brand of calligraphy ink. Even further underneath all of that, there’s the familiar and comforting smell of Kaoru that Kojiro has known for most of his life. He swallows hard, resisting the urge to bury his nose into the curve of Kaoru’s neck and inhale.
Kaoru shifts against him, trying to get comfortable or maybe trying to get some space between them. There’s none to be had, and Kojiro clamps a hand onto Kaoru’s hip, holding him still. Kojiro’s dick, failing to read the room, is stirring with far too much interest. The last thing he needs is for Kaoru to realise.
He can feel Kaoru’s annoyed exhale against his chin. Kaoru’s hands are resting on Kojiro’s bare shoulders and with his right thumb and index, he pinches lightly. Kojiro jerks with the effort to stay silent, and the single motion undoes all of his hard work as he ends up grinding against Kaoru.
Kaoru lets out a soft noise that comes from the back of his throat and goes right to Kojiro’s dick, only made less embarrassing by the fact that Kaoru is hard too. It’s torture, being pressed against each other like this, torn between the temptation to grind again just a moment of relief, and not daring to move at all.
With a slow and quiet exhale, Kaoru shifts again. He guides one of Kojiro’s knees in between his and it's simultaneously better and worse than before. Kojiro drops his head against Kaoru’s shoulder, and bites back a whimper as he feels Kaoru’s fingers slide into his hair.
He presses his knee more firmly in between Kaoru’s, feeling the way Kaoru’s breath stutters against his ear. He's about to throw caution to the wind and pull Kaoru against him when he hears faint voices on the other side of the door.
“—have to be this way,” one of the voices says, coming closer. “There's nowhere else they could have gone.”
“This is a waste of time,” says the other. “We should get back to work.”
“This place was crawling with people! You saw it! I can't believe we have nothing to show for it. Maybe if we can organise a raid and come back with a whole squad—”
“To do what? Catch some trespassers? Come on. It's a waste of time and resources.”
Kojiro flinches when he hears the rattling of a doorknob.
“Locked,” the first voice grumbles.
“Probably for the best. This place is creepy. It doesn't look like it's been used in years.”
There's the rattle of another doorknob, closer this time. Kojiro realises that the police officer is trying every single one to see if any of them open, just like he did.
The officer tries the handle of the closet. Kojiro grabs for the handle to hold it still, only to find that Kaoru already has a vise grip on it. He wraps his hand around Kaoru’s, and the handle doesn't budge.
“Fine,” the police officer grumbles. “I give up. This is stupid. Let's go.”
“Thank you,” their partner says, already sounding further away.
Kojiro stays frozen for another full minute to confirm that they’re not about to return, and then finally lets himself relax. He leans back against the door with a sigh, and then turns the handle with Kaoru’s hand still in his.
It’s just as dark outside of the closet, but it’s much easier to breathe. Kojiro steps back, giving Kaoru space. He can still feel his heartbeat pounding in his head and his nerves are way too fried to address anything that happened in there.
“We should get out of here.”
“Yeah.” Carla’s purple light turns back on. It’s not particularly bright but in the total darkness of the past several minutes, Kojiro is grateful to be able to tell where the walls are. Kaoru takes Kojiro by the arm. “Let’s go.”
They follow a different path to the one Kojiro sent everyone else on. This one’s older, and mostly overgrown. It served as a getaway route for them back in high school and it still serves its purpose now. It spits them out at the foot of a cliff just by the abandoned mines, and their motorbikes are already there waiting for them: Kaoru’s through the emergency self-drive function he’s programmed into it, and Kojiro’s through the much more mundane method of having a standing agreement with some regulars to take care of his bike and bring it around to this point if there’s ever an emergency.
“I could build you a better bike that would take care of itself,” Kaoru says, watching Kojiro fish his keys out of the helmet hanging over his handlebars and shrug his jacket over his shoulders.
“And you’d bleed me dry just to pay for it,” Kojiro replies lightly, patting the fuel tank. “I like this one just fine.”
“We’ll have to talk to Adam about the patrol routes again.” Kaoru frowns. “I thought he’d taken care of it already.”
“Excluding the whole place from patrol routes is bound to draw attention to it.” Kojiro folds his arms across his chest, leaning against his bike. “You heard them back there. At least one of them is ready to take this way too seriously. We don’t need any more like that. I’m not saying we won’t talk to Adam. We’ll just… have to understand if he can’t always do something about it.”
Kaoru nods tightly.
“Are you okay?” Kojiro asks, nudging the toe of his shoe against Kaoru’s.
“I’m fine,” Kaoru replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just…”
…Want you against me again but I have no idea how to ask for it, Kojiro thinks, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. Shit. It’s not even that late for an S night and I’m exhausted.”
Kaoru slides Carla into the holder designed into the side of his motorbike. “Too much for one night, I think. Good night, Kojiro.”
“Good night,” Kojiro says, instead of asking exactly which point of the night had become too much for Kaoru, and whether it was before or after the storage closet. Or maybe during. He watches Kaoru’s taillights disappear and buries his face in his hands. “Fuck.”
Between going to S, late night dinner and drinks at Sia La Luce after closing, and otherwise planning to hang out, Kojiro sees Kaoru around three times a week. Sometimes it’s more, when Kaoru comes by the restaurant for lunch meetings or when Reki, Langa and Miya are up to something that requires adult supervision of the slightly irresponsible kind. Most of the time, three times a week is more than often enough to see each other.
Two days into not seeing Kaoru after that night at S, Kojiro feels about ready to vibrate out of his skin. It’s nothing out of normal, and they have plans for dinner at Kaoru’s place tonight, but the wait has been excruciating.
They still talk as much as usual, which usually takes the form of sending each other memes and reels in the mornings—even though he's sure that they've inadvertently trained their algorithms into an alarming degree of overlap—and then sporadic messages throughout the day to complain about minor inconveniences at work, solve each other’s problems to varying degrees of success, or annoy each other just for the sake of it. They just don't mention the police crashing S, or anything that followed.
The memory of that night is seared into him: the way Kaoru felt pressed up against him, his breath against Kojiro’s ear, and the soft noise he made like he couldn’t physically hold it back. Kojiro thinks about it all the fucking time.
He’s thinking about it as he closes the restaurant that afternoon after lunch service, wiping the counters down one last time. He tries not to think about it as he’s at the gym, pushing himself until he can barely think about anything. He’s back to thinking about it when he’s in the shower at home, standing with his forehead pressed against the tiles as he takes himself in hand. It’s desperate and pathetic and Kojiro has long since resigned himself to the fact that this is just what he’s like about Kaoru.
He's a little afraid to see Kaoru tonight, he realises as he dries himself off and gets dressed. He doesn't know what to expect. He has no idea what he's allowed to hope for.
On most nights that he takes dinner to Kaoru’s place, he doesn’t bother cooking himself since it’s meant to be his one night off but today he needs the ritual of it, and he needs something to kill time so he doesn't end up stewing in his thoughts. He’d usually make carbonara if he’s cooking for Kaoru but today, he opts for gnocchi instead. It keeps him busier and more focused than carbonara would, which is exactly what he needs. By the time that he’s finished packing their food into containers, it’s already late enough that he needs to leave for Kaoru’s place.
Idle thoughts successfully avoided, he thinks grimly, and feels no less nervous.
Kaoru lives a fifteen minute drive away. Kojiro parks his bike beside Kaoru’s and his stomach clenches when he thinks of the last time their bikes were next to each other like this. He wonders if Kaoru also went home that night and lay awake in bed, trying not to dwell on what had just happened—and what hadn’t—and trying not to touch himself.
Drawing a ragged breath, Kojiro hefts his backpack with the food containers and climbs the stairs to the apartment above Kaoru’s studio.
The door opens before Kojiro even lifts his hand to key in the code that lets Carla know that he’s here. Kaoru stands there, still holding onto the handle. He must have been waiting there. He never bothers to open the door himself.
Kojiro’s stomach does a little flip as their eyes meet. Two entire decades of knowing each other and sometimes, even Kaoru's most restrained expressions are an open book. He's just as nervous as Kojiro, and just as excited.
“Hey,” Kojiro says, and he's trying for a casual grin but it feels a little too wide, and a little too sincere.
Kaoru lets out a soft huff of amusement and opens the door wider. “Hey. Do I smell pesto?”
“With extra pine nuts, just the way you like,” Kojiro replies, stepping inside.
Kaoru has the table set already, with their plates waiting on the kitchen counter and plenty of space for Kojiro to unpack and dish everything up. Kaoru goes to the fridge, opening the door and looking through his wine options before he pulls out a Sauvingon Blanc and holds it up for Kojiro to see.
“Oh, look at you,” Kojiro murmurs, too impressed to pretend otherwise. “So you do listen when I go on about wine pairings.”
“Only to make sure you're not screwing with me by giving me bad pairings,” Kaoru replies, but he's obviously pleased with himself. He carries the wine and glasses to the table as Kojiro carries the plates, and glances at the tupperware containers Kojiro left in the sink. “Wait, you made me pesto? And gnocchi? On your afternoon off?”
“Felt like it,” Kojiro says with a shrug as they sit down to eat. “I had the time anyway and if I wasn't doing anything else I'd just be…”
“Restless,” Kaoru finishes for him. He spears a piece of gnocchi with his fork with far too much concentration. Kojiro notices that the tips of his ears are going pink. “I've felt that way recently too.”
“Huh. Have you, now.”
Kojiro turns the words over in his mind as they eat. His hope is a wild thing, threatening to break free from his chest and it takes everything to rein it in. Kaoru hasn't promised anything. Not yet.
But neither is Kaoru backing away, retreating into plausible deniability the way he so easily could. That has to count for something.
They finish their meal in silence, which is common enough when they spend so much time together, but it feels charged this time. Kojiro doesn't know what to say. He knows he doesn't want to flirt, definitely not with the lines that Kaoru's heard him use so many times before. This is different. The stakes are so much higher.
“Let me wash up,” he finally says, breaking the silence. Not his best work. It still earns him the slight curve of Kaoru’s lips.
He collects their dishes and forks, washing them in Kaoru’s sink and leaving them to dry. When he turns around, he finds Kaoru in the kitchen with him.
“I just…” Kaoru lifts their empty wine glasses. “I think we're done with these too.”
“Yeah,” Kojiro says softly, taking them from Kaoru’s hands. “Thanks.”
They both pause for a moment as their eyes meet. Kaoru sways, not quite leaning in and not quite leaning away. It's a hesitation, with clear intent, just as Kojiro does the same. They huff out nervous laughter in unison. They've both failed the first move but at least now they're on the same page. Kojiro feels himself relax, just with that knowledge.
“I'm gonna finish washing these glasses, and then I'll join you on the couch,” Kojiro tells him. He takes a breath. “And then I'm gonna kiss you, Kaoru.”
Kaoru grins at him. His nerves have clearly settled too. “Not if I kiss you first.”
“Go.” Kojiro nudges him. “Get out of my kitchen.”
“It's my house,” Kaoru protests, even as he sits on the couch.
“Still my kitchen though, isn't it?” Kojiro might be turned toward the sink, but he can hear the fondness in his own voice. It's almost embarrassing.
When he gets to the couch, Kaoru is already comfortably settled into his side. When they hang out at Kaoru's apartment, their usual spots are on either end of his three-seater with their backs against the arm rests so they can face each other. There's usually something playing on the TV with the volume on low that they'll both ignore as they talk but Kaoru hasn't bothered to turn it on now.
“Well,” Kaoru says, raising an eyebrow with a level of calmness Kojiro knows to be false. “Kiss me then.”
Kojiro laughs. “Here I thought you were kissing me first.”
He sits down, closer to the middle of the couch than his usual spot. Kaoru sits up, leaning in to close the rest of the distance.
They stop with their noses nearly touching. Kaoru watches him over his glasses, waiting.
“Damn,” Kojiro sighs, touching their foreheads together. “This is really happening, huh?”
Kaoru pauses. “Are you completely sure you want to…?”
“Yes.” Kojiro is emphatic. He rests his hand on the side of Kaoru's neck to keep him close, thumb tracing along his jaw. “God, I want to.”
“You're overthinking this,” Kaoru accuses, because he's the world's biggest hypocrite. He knocks their foreheads together gently.
“Asshole,” Kojiro says and probably means, I love you.
He pulls Kaoru into a kiss. He’s gentle at first, just taking in the feeling of their lips against each other, but then he gets bolder as Kaoru kisses back. Kojiro parts his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Kaoru’s mouth is hot and wet as Kojiro licks into it. Kaoru urges Kojiro on, fingers sliding into his hair and tugging gently.
Kojiro moans into their kiss and suddenly, it feels like a dam has broken. He wraps his arm around Kaoru's waist, kissing him harder. They're sitting awkwardly on the couch, so Kojiro leans back and pulls Kaoru to straddle his lap.
“Yes,” Kaoru says, muffled against Kojiro’s mouth. He grinds down just as Kojiro lifts his hips and they both moan in unison.
It's better than before, now that they have the time to actually enjoy it. Kojiro slides his hands down to Kaoru’s ass and pulls him close again, slower this time so he can revel in the drag of their clothed erections against each other. The low sound that Kaoru makes at the back of his throat vibrates its way right through Kojiro’s bones.
Kaoru pulls away from their kiss, glasses askew and his hair mussed. He pulls his glasses off, setting them on the side table. He's flushed and panting, and his yukata has loosened with all of their movement, threatening to slip entirely off one shoulder. Despite the sun having set, the day is still hot and humid, and there's a light sheen of sweat to Kaoru's skin. His lips are swollen and shining with spit, begging to be kissed again.
“Fuck,” Kojiro says, with feeling. He presses another light kiss to those lips, and nuzzles against Kaoru’s jaw. “You're so…”
“Yeah?” Kaoru asks, tilting his head to the side to give Kojiro better access. He sounds a little breathless, and incredibly smug. “What am I?”
“Gorgeous,” Kojiro answers. He doesn't even pause to think. He traces his nose along the curve of Kaoru’s neck, and kisses over his pulse point. “You're all I ever wanted since high school. You're so fucking beautiful.”
“Go back one,” Kaoru murmurs, his fingers gripping Kojiro’s jaw to keep him still. “What was that?”
Kojiro's brain slows down enough to process what he's said. He feels his face burn. “Ah. Well. You heard me just fine.”
Kaoru smiles at him, soft and fond in a way that Kojiro immediately commits to memory so he can revisit it forever. “You absolute idiot. I wanted you too.”
“Did you?” Kojiro gives him a lopsided grin. “I remember smoking in empty malls in the middle of the night, letting you bum cigarettes just for the way you'd lean in for a light. Wishing you'd lean in all the way, or at least hear me loudly thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.”
Kaoru kisses him now, his mouth hot and pliant against Kojiro's. He moans softly as Kojiro bites at his lower lip, his jaw, his neck, and tilts his head back in encouragement. Each hickey Kojiro sucks onto Kaoru's pale skin gets him a hitching gasp, and a jolt of pleasure as Kaoru's hips rock against his. He's careful to only mark him where it'll be hidden under his clothes, already thrilled by the thought of Kaoru being so perfectly put together in his gorgeous kimono while his skin blooms with reminders that Kojiro was there.
“Can I?” Kojiro asks, kissing Kaoru's bare shoulder, where his yukata has slipped off. He finds the obi that is barely keeping it on and tugs gently.
Kaoru kneels up over Kojiro's lap, untying it himself and pulling his yukata off. It slides to the floor with a whisper of fabric and Kojiro's mouth feels dry as he takes in all the bare skin, the flush that goes down to Kaoru's chest, his dusky nipples and the silver barbells through them.
Kojiro does what he has wanted to since they were teenagers, since Kaoru got the piercings in the first place: he leans forward and takes Kaoru's nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, rubbing his tongue back and forth. Kaoru grunts, low and urgent, and rocks against Kojiro. He buries one hand into Kojiro's hair to keep him where he is and grabs the back of the couch with the other, using it as leverage to keep grinding.
With a soft hum, Kojiro switches to the other nipple, bring his thumb up to rub soothing circles over the one he's just abandoned.
Kaoru's grip on his hair tightens and his breath grows harsh. He presses himself flush against Kojiro, grinding more urgently, and makes a wounded noise as Kojiro pulls them apart.
“Kojiro—” His voice is trembling. His entire body is, so close to what Kojiro just denied him.
“Shh,” Kojiro soothes, stroking a hand down his back. “I know, baby. I'll get you there, I promise. I'm just nowhere close to being done with you yet.”
Kaoru has to take a few shaky breaths to get himself back under control, and then huffs out a rough laugh. “What makes you think that we have to stop at one? Or is that all you think you can give me?”
Tilting his face up, Kojiro pulls him into the gentlest kiss, and smiles against Kaoru's lips. “Do you want me to make you regret running your mouth?”
“You seem terribly confident that you can,” Kaoru counters. His smile has a sly edge to it. “You're welcome to try.”
Kojiro dips his head so that he can scrape his teeth over Kaoru's nipple, and laughs as he arches into it. “Come on. Hold onto me.”
“Why?” Kaoru asks, and his grip on Kojiro's shoulders tightens as Kojiro gets to his feet, carrying Kaoru against him. “Oh. You show off.”
Kojiro grins, pulling Kaoru tighter against him and carrying him to the bedroom. The door is open, and Kojiro places Kaoru onto the bed and climbs over him. Kaoru pulls him closer by the back of his shirt, kissing him hard.
“I'll kick your ass if you ever do that again.”
Kojiro grins, recognising his tone. “You're just mad that you found it so hot.”
“Stupid six-pack gym junkie,” Kaoru mutters, confirming Kojiro’s suspicions. He sounds so annoyed that it can only be a compliment. He nips at Kojiro’s lower lip, and then sucks on the same spot. “You’re always parading round S half-naked, so why are you still wearing clothes now?”
Kojiro laughs, sitting up on his knees so he can tug his shirt off. “Better?”
Kaoru undoes Kojiro’s shorts, reaching into them to stroke him firmly. “Mm. Much better.”
“Kaoru.” Kojiro grabs him by the wrist, holding him still.
He gets off the bed so he can kick his shorts off. Kaoru’s gaze on him feels hot and heavy, and Kojiro strips out of his underwear too.
“Come here,” Kaoru murmurs, spreading his legs to make room for Kojiro.
He climbs back onto the bed, holding himself up over Kaoru on all fours. Kaoru makes an impatient noise, lying back and pulling Kojiro down with him. He hooks a leg over Kojiro’s waist and uses it to pull him in. “Closer.”
Kojiro goes easily, resting his hand on Kaoru’s thigh. He can't resist the urge to grind down, and it makes Kaoru tip his head back with a low moan.
“Is this what you want?” Kojiro asks, slipping his other hand between their bodies to tug Kaoru’s underwear down. He strokes him slowly, and then wraps his hand around both of them.
“Yes,” Kaoru breathes, fingers tangling in Kojiro’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. He makes the most exquisite sounds against Kojiro’s mouth; soft sighs and urgent whimpers. They pull apart, panting softly as Kojiro keeps stroking them both. Kaoru is grinding up into his touch, eyes shut and mouth slack with pleasure.
Kojiro loses count of how many kisses he presses to Kaoru’s lips, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He can’t stop. Kaoru smiles, clearly enjoying it. His breaths are coming quicker and louder now, and he arches his back and rocks his hips more urgently.
“I’m—” Kaoru turns his face into his pillow, wrapping both legs around Kojiro tightly, like he's afraid he’ll stop again. “Ngh, Kojiro.”
“Like this?” Kojiro asks, and he can feel his heart hammering in his ears, in his chest, in the throb of his cock as he strokes them both harder.
“Please,” Kaoru grunts. He grabs a fistful of his own hair, panting around the words. “This is all I've thought about since that night.”
“Fuck,” Kojiro groans. He grips them both tightly, thrusting into the tight circle of his fingers as Kaoru does the same. “Come on, baby, let me see you come apart for me.”
Kaoru does, his entire body jerking against Kojiro as he comes across his own stomach. The streaks reach all the way up to his chest and he moans long and loud, his voice trembling with pleasure. Kojiro can't help but follow, grunting as he adds to the mess of come across Kaoru's stomach.
“Oh, shit,” he gasps, bracing against the bed so he doesn't crush Kaoru beneath him. He rolls onto his side, panting for breath and watching the rise and fall of Kaoru's chest as he does the same. He grins when Kaoru rolls onto his side as well, facing him. “Good?”
Kaoru kisses him, gentle and unhurried this time. It's frankly unfair that the moment Kojiro catches his breath, Kaoru steals it away again, but he's not about to start complaining.
“Better,” Kaoru finally answers, when Kojiro's lips feel swollen from all the kissing and his tongue tastes of Kaoru's mouth. Kaoru rests his hand on the side of Kojiro's face and smiles. “Much better than any of my fantasies.”
Kojiro turns his face to kiss Kaoru's palm, and then gives his thumb a playful bite. “Careful.”
Kaoru hums in thought, stroking his thumb over Kojiro’s lower lips. When Kojiro opens his mouth again and sucks on his thumb, Kaoru's gaze darkens but he doesn't pull back. “I think I'm done being careful, actually.”
Something dangerously close to hope swoops through Kojiro. He releases Kaoru’s thumb. “Yeah?”
Like they're not both naked in Kaoru’s bed, one orgasm down, after months of toeing the line of their friendship. They stopped being careful that night at S. This still feels like they're very deliberately choosing to cross that line.
Kojiro rests his hand on Kaoru’s stomach, then winces when it comes away tacky with drying come. Kaoru makes to sit up, but Kojiro stops him with a quick kiss. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”
He grabs a spare washcloth from the bathroom and wets one corner before bringing it back to the bedroom. He wipes Kaoru clean, then dries him with the other end. Kaoru takes it from his hands, balling it up and leaving it on the bedside table. He tugs Kojiro back down onto the bed, until they’re lying facing each other again.
“I could’ve done that,” Kaoru tells him, “but thank you.”
“It was my mess too,” Kojiro replies. “Besides, I wanted to take care of you.”
Kaoru smiles, cupping the side of Kojiro’s face and pulling him into a deep kiss. Kojiro shifts closer, stroking Kaoru’s hair back out of his face. He trails his fingers down to Kaoru’s chest, rubbing his thumb over one of his pierced nipples before pinching it gently. Kaoru gasps, trailing off into a laugh.
“You like them?” Kaoru asks, arching into Kojiro’s touch to seek more.
Understatement of the year, Kojiro thinks. “I remember when you got them.”
Kaoru’s smile turns sly. “Oh really?”
It was an entire decade ago, and Kojiro still remembers the way the lady who had done the piercing asked if he was Kaoru’s boyfriend and then warned him that he couldn’t play with them until they’d healed. He’d turned bright red, and hadn’t managed to get a single coherent word out, either about not being Kaoru’s boyfriend (true), or that he wasn’t thinking about playing with them at all (false).
“You never asked to see them,” Kaoru sighs, covering Kojiro’s hand with his to keep it where it is. “I was hoping you would.”
“I wanted to,” Kojiro admits. He rolls Kaoru onto his back and dips his head down to suck on the nipple he isn’t already playing with. He flicks his tongue over the barbell and looks up to meet Kaoru’s gaze. “Those hot nights back in high school when you’d wear a loose tank and I’d see them through the sides of your shirt? It was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me. Then when I came home from Italy, you’d taken all your other piercings out. I figured these were gone too. I’m glad you kept them.”
“So am I,” Kaoru murmurs. He strokes his fingers through Kojiro’s hair, his breath hitching slightly as Kojiro gets his lips around a nipple again. Kojiro loves the sounds he’s drawing out of Kaoru. He wants to memorise them all, to learn every single way to draw them out of him.
He kisses his way down Kaoru’s chest, then across his stomach. Kaoru’s cock is beginning to stir with interest again and Kojiro licks a broad stripe along the length of it from base to tip. Kaoru’s hips jerk, and he grabs a fistful of Kojiro’s hair, hard. Kojiro moans, the sound muffled against Kaoru’s skin.
“Wait,” Kaoru tells him and then he’s leaning over to his bedside table, reaching into the top drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. He settles back where he was, spreads his legs a little wider, and holds the bottle out.
“Yeah?” Kojiro asks, a little breathless.
Kaoru arches a brow at him and grins. “Unless you don’t think you can get any more out of me.”
Kojiro laughs, taking the bottle and uncapping it. “Oh, don’t you worry. I will.”
He presses kisses down the length of Kaoru’s cock as he gets his fingers slick with lube. Kaoru gets his feet flat on the bed, one hand resting in Kojiro’s hair and the other clutching at the sheets as Kojiro pushes the first finger into him.
“God,” Kaoru gasps out, face turned into his pillow. His voice is trembling as he says, “Your fingers.”
Kojiro sucks on the head of Kaoru’s cock to distract him. It works, as it starts filling out more and Kojiro bobs his head down the entire length of Kaoru's cock. His nose brushes against Kaoru’s navel and it earns him a rough moan as the fingers in his hair tighten once again.
“Of course you're good at this,” Kaoru grumbles.
Kojiro pulls off his cock with an obscene pop, and grins up at Kaoru. He pulls his finger back, then replaces it with two, watching closely as Kaoru's mouth falls open around a gasp. Kojiro is a little less gentle this time, thrusting his fingers into Kaoru at a steady pace.
He sucks on Kaoru's balls, crooking his fingers. He knows he’s found the right angle when Kaoru tenses underneath him with a soft cry. He keeps up the steady thrust of his fingers, pulling away from Kaoru’s cock to watch him come undone.
“Fuck me,” Kaoru moans urgently, grabbing at Kojiro’s arm. “Want you—please—Kojiro.”
Kojiro doesn’t need to be asked twice. He slicks his cock, pumping slowly as Kaoru sits up. “How do you want me?”
With a smile, Kaoru pushes him to sit back against the headboard and climbs into his lap. Kojiro guides the head of his cock to tease at Kaoru’s hole, breathless with anticipation. Kaoru is gorgeous, skin flushed and shining with sweat, and his long hair falling to tickle Kojiro’s thighs as he tips his head back.
“Easy, now,” Kojiro murmurs as Kaoru sinks down onto him. Kaoru takes it a little at a time, but he’s clearly greedy for more. Kojiro can’t blame him. He has to hold himself back from thrusting up into Kaoru, grounding himself by gripping onto his hips.
Kaoru keeps going, until he’s bottomed out. He sits there for a moment, hands splayed on Kojiro’s chest as he breathes through it.
“Okay?” Kojiro asks softly, craning his neck up to press light kisses along Kaoru’s jaw.
Kaoru nods, huffing out a light laugh that catches in his throat when he shifts on Kojiro’s lap. “You're so stupidly big. I knew you'd be. It's just… different, when it's really you and not just a toy.”
And then he starts riding Kojiro in earnest, without giving him the time to fully process the fact that Kaoru has been fantasising about his dick. It's all Kojiro can do to hold onto him and let Kaoru go at his own pace.
“Come on,” Kaoru pants out, leaning back and bracing his hands on the bed so he can bounce himself on Kojiro’s dick. “Stop being nice, baby, I know you want to fuck me hard.”
Kojiro grunts, thrusting upwards and grabbing Kaoru’s ass and pulling him down to meet it. Kaoru laughs, dazed and delighted.
“That's it. More.”
He wraps one arm around Kojiro’s shoulder and the look in his eyes is so searing that when their eyes meet, Kojiro can't look away. He's distantly aware of the bed creaking beneath them, and the headboard thumping against the wall. He can't bring himself to care. Not when Kaoru gets off Kojiro entirely and settles onto his back, spreading his legs and gesturing Kojiro closer.
Kojiro swallows hard, hooking his hands under the bend of Kaoru’s knees and pushing gently. Of course Kaoru is flexible enough to fold in half. Of course he gets that slack-jawed, blown-pupil look that tells Kojiro just how much he likes it.
“Yes,” Kaoru moans roughly as Kojiro grabs more lube and slides into him. The change in angle is clearly a good one; he bites his lip as Kojiro picks up his thrusts, his face flushing a bright pink that matches his hair. He grabs Kojiro’s arm, fingers digging into it hard enough to bruise. “Right there. I'm gonna—hnn—”
“Oh just look at you baby, you're so close,” Kojiro pants, maintaining his angle. “You're fucking beautiful like this.”
“Kojiro, please,” Kaoru gasps. He slides his hands up Kojiro’s arm, to clutch at his shoulders instead. “Don't stop.”
“Gonna make you come,” Kojiro promises. He growls deep in his throat and picks up his pace. “I'm gonna fuck you right through it, and keep going until you come again.”
“Oh, fuck,” Kaoru moans, clawing at Kojiro’s back desperately. “Please.”
True to his word, Kojiro doesn't stop. He fucks Kaoru right through his orgasm, even as he becomes sensitive and overstimulated. Kaoru’s lashes are wet with unshed tears, and Kojiro leans in to kiss him.
“Too much?”
Kaoru laughs shakily. “Don't you dare stop.”
So Kojiro doesn't. He slows down, letting Kaoru put his legs back down onto the bed, and keeps going with deep, steady thrusts.
Kaoru reaches down to stroke himself, whimpering right against Kojiro’s ear. Kojiro feels like he's going to explode. His thrusts grow erratic and Kaoru hums encouragingly, sliding his free hand into Kojiro's hair.
“Want you to come in me.”
“Fuuuck,” Kojiro grits out. He's so close, and Kaoru is so hot and tight around him.
“I'm gonna come again,” Kaoru gasps, stroking himself harder. He's trembling now, his breath coming shorter and sharper.
Kojiro buries himself in to the hilt, grinding into Kaoru. “Let me hear you.”
When Kaoru comes this time, it's only the weakest spurt but the way he tightens around Kojiro is enough to push him over the edge as well. Kojiro moans loudly, coming until he's spent and breathless. Kaoru is dripping with it when they pull apart. I did that, Kojiro thinks dizzily. Fuck.
They meet each other’s eye with a smile, which spreads until they both dissolve into laughter. Kojiro lies down, panting for breath, and pulls Kaoru against him.
Kaoru presses a kiss to Kojiro’s shoulder, waiting to catch his breath before he says, “I think we’re going to need a shower this time.”
“Oh, absolutely.” They’re a mess of sweat and lube and come, and he winces when he gets up and sees that Kaoru’s sheets are in a similar state. “We might need to change these too.”
“One thing at a time.” Kaoru gets to his feet, and then sways when his legs shake too much to hold him up.
Kojiro catches him, supporting his weight and trying not to look incredibly smug. Kaoru rolls his eyes at him, but he’s smiling as they slowly make their way to the bathroom. They take their time washing off, with Kaoru leaning his weight against Kojiro even after he’s recovered enough to stand by himself. Kojiro doesn’t mind. He presses kisses along Kaoru’s shoulder and gently cleans him up. They get side-tracked with lingering kisses as they towel themselves dry, and Kaoru allows Kojiro to gently bully him into leaning against the wall and waiting, while Kojiro changes the bedsheets.
“There you go,” Kojiro says once he’s finally done, guiding Kaoru back to lie in bed.
“You’re sweeter than I expected you to be,” Kaoru tells him, nuzzling into Kojiro’s neck and pressing a kiss to it. “Much sweeter.”
Kojiro laughs. “Did you think I’d be an asshole in bed?”
“Well, you’re an asshole outside of bed. It would make sense.”
Kojiro shoves him. Kaoru elbows him in return and they jostle for a moment, until they settle back into each other’s arms. They’re facing each other this time, and Kaoru is deliberately avoiding his eyes and obviously processing something. Kojiro gives him time, busying himself by pressing kisses into Kaoru’s hair.
Taking a breath, Kaoru touches Kojiro’s shoulder. “I left scratches on your back. I didn’t realise how obvious they were, until we were in the shower.”
Kojiro could feel the sting of them under the shower, but he waits. He knows that this isn’t about Kaoru working himself up to an apology.
“Tomorrow’s an S night,” Kaoru says. “It’s still too hot for your jacket and even if it wasn’t, you barely keep it on properly. People are going to see.”
“Is that a problem?” Kojiro asks slowly.
“It’s just…” Kaoru wets his lips and frowns at Kojiro. “People are going to see, and they’ll assume you fucked one of your girls, and why wouldn’t they, when you’re always flirting with them.”
“You know I don’t sleep with my fangirls,” Kojiro tells him.
“I know.” Kaoru squeezes his eyes shut with frustration. “It’s just…”
“Just… what?” Kojiro waits for Kaoru to open his eyes again. “Kaoru, are you jealous?”
Kaoru breaks eye contact, which is all the warning Kojiro needs that this is serious.
“Hey,” he says softly, his fingers on Kaoru's chin. “You know you’ve never had anything to be jealous of, right?”
The way Kaoru turns his face away makes it clear that he disagrees. “I hated every girlfriend you introduced me to, and every fuck buddy you didn't. Doesn't that say enough?”
Kojiro hasn’t had a girlfriend since returning to Okinawa and being kicked in the chest with the realisation that he was just as stupidly in love with Kaoru as he always has been and it’s not going to stop any time soon. He hasn’t had a regular fuck buddy in a while either, especially not recently when the choice between getting laid and spending more time with Kaoru has always landed solidly in favour of Kaoru. He knows none of that matters to Kaoru.
“I'm yours,” Kojiro says earnestly. “No matter who else was around, I've always been yours. I’ve known it since we were in high school, Kaoru. I’m sorry you didn’t know it too.”
Kaoru's expression softens. He strokes Kojiro’s cheek. “We were young and terrified. Now, we’re… not as young.”
“Still terrified?”
Lips twitching into a smile, Kaoru presses a kiss to Kojiro’s lips. “A little. I don’t want to mess this up. This is too important.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Kojiro says to assure them both. “I’m not going anywhere, Kaoru. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
Kaoru relaxes at the words. Kojiro smiles, pulling Kaoru into his arms. “You know, if the assumptions people make at S really bother you, I could always tell them exactly who scratched my back up.”
“Not yet,” Kaoru says cautiously. “If people get curious and start digging into who we are…”
“Yeah,” Kojiro replies, having expected this response. He doesn’t like thinking about the night Kaoru was hit across the face with a board, but he knows that his response that night, and the way he’d hovered around Kaoru for a while after has already made it clear enough to the regulars at S that Cherry Blossom is important to Joe. That’s enough for him right now. “I could keep the jacket off, if it really bothers you. Or…”
“Or?” Kaoru asks, looking up at the sly tone.
“I mean, we don’t have to go, right?” Kojiro strokes his fingers through Kaoru’s hair. “We could just have a night in, together. Maybe have a date. I’ll cook you something nice. We could have some wine.”
Kaoru smiles. “Just like every other night we hang out?”
“Well,” Kojiro says, kissing along Kaoru’s neck. “With a few differences. But it won’t change a lot. You’re still my favourite person in the entire world. And I’m your second favourite, after Carla.”
“You idiot.” With the way Kaoru is looking at him, it sounds a little like, I love you.
“Yeah,” Kojiro agrees, his heart so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I’m your idiot, alright.”