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Sanada can't stop staring at the back of Yukimura's neck, at the patch of bare skin between the collar of his kimono and the soft curls of his hair. His breath quickens as he imagines touching him there, running his fingers down his neck, pulling his kimono open to reveal his smooth shoulders… Sanada blushes and makes himself look away, scolding himself mentally. Tarundoru, he thinks, imagining that it's his grandfather yelling at him. But it's not long before his gaze is drawn back to Yukimura's neck, just a little more skin revealed as Yukimura leans over to look at something for sale in one of the many stands that line the streets of the autumn colors festival. And now Sanada is staring again. His lips start to feel swollen as he remembers how soft Yukimura's skin is there. They've become more intimate with each other lately, Sanada slowly working past all his hesitations and Yukimura being patient with him, nudging him in the right direction, never pushing him too hard.
"Sanada?"
Sanada looks up. He'd fazed out without realizing it as he thought of touching Yukimura, and now Yukimura is looking up at him with an amused smile – the kind that says "I know you were staring at me."
Sanada's blush deepens and he looks down at his feet. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean to stare, I just."
Yukimura laughs and steps closer to him. "It's nothing to apologize for, Sanada," he says, laying one hand on Sanada's upper arm, the touch sending a jolt of excitement up Sanada's spine. "You know I don't mind."
Sanada's mouth starts to go dry. Yukimura is so close to him, the collar of his kimono open just a little lower than necessary, showing a hint of his chest, the lines of his collar bones, and all Sanada can think of is how easy it would be to pull the fabric aside, to undo the obi and take his kimono off one layer at a time. He swallows and slowly raises his hands to Yukimura's shoulders, feeling the warmth of Yukimura's body through the fabric.
Yukimura smiles and leans in to murmur something in Sanada's ear, his hair tickling Sanada's neck. "Want to go home early?" He trails his hand down Sanada's chest, and Sanada chokes back a soft whimper when Yukimura's fingers brush over his nipple.
"Yukimura…" Sanada bites his lip, trying to ignore the warm curl of arousal that's spreading up into his chest. "What about the rest of the team?"
"They're big boys, they can take care of themselves," says Yukimura. "Besides, if they haven't figured out who they're going home with by now, there's not much we can do to help them."
Yukimura runs his fingertips up and down the edge of Sanada's kimono collar. Sanada takes a deep, shaky breath. "Let's go," he says, catching Yukimura's hand and leading the way out of the festival.
~
The walk home is mercifully short, not more than a few minutes. Sanada walks quickly, unsure what to make of this feeling of urgency that's pushing at him, making the desire somehow sharper than usual. He's tempted to stop before they reach the house, and probably would have if it hadn't been so close.
"I don't think anyone else is home," he says as they walk inside and find all the lights still turned off. "They're probably still out at the festival."
"I see," says Yukimura, taking off his sandals and stepping up out of the genkan. He looks up at Sanada expectantly, and for a moment Sanada sort of flounders as to what to do now, but the urgency at the back of his brain is still pushing on him, and he takes Yukimura's hand again to lead him back to his bedroom. He feels like he must somehow be doing this wrong, like he should be more smooth about taking the lead, but Yukimura doesn't seem to be objecting, so maybe it's okay.
He shuts the door to the bedroom and pulls the cord to turn his light on at the lowest setting. Yukimura squeezes his hand before letting go, and then kneels down in seiza on Sanada's futon, not saying a word but looking up at him with a sly smile and pulling the collar of his kimono open just a little more, revealing the soft expanse of skin where his neck meets his shoulders. Sanada can't hold himself back anymore. He drops to his knees in front of Yukimura and cups his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and kisses him, long and hard, Yukimura making a soft noise of surprise when Sanada pushes his tongue past Yukimura's lips. Before long, Sanada breaks the kiss, panting, and presses another kiss to the curve of Yukimura's jaw as he moves his hands to the collar of Yukimura's kimono. He tugs it open further and runs his fingers over Yukimura's collarbones, tracing up the sides of his neck and back down, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot just under his ear. Yukimura starts breathing harder and reaches up to hold on to Sanada's shoulders. Something about the sound of Yukimura's breath and the heat of his fingers urges Sanada on. Sanada has no idea what he's doing, really, he never does, but right now the ache of desire is so strong that he doesn't care, his usual hesitance forgotten in the wake of this newfound desperation.
Yukimura tips his head back and moans, exposing more of his neck as Sanada runs his mouth slowly down toward Yukimura's shoulders, pausing to suck at the skin right at the base of his neck. He pulls Yukimura's kimono down past his shoulders and leans back to look at him. Yukimura looks back at him, his dark eyes half-lidded, still panting. So much of his lovely pale skin is exposed now, his bare chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Sanada reaches one hand around to stroke Yukimura's back and bends down to kiss his one of his collarbones. Yukimura arches his back and wraps his arms around Sanada's shoulders, keening loudly as Sanada's teeth scrape over his skin. The sound sends another shudder of arousal over Sanada's body. He keeps sucking at Yukimura's collarbone and running his fingertips up and down Yukimura's spine, soft skin everywhere save for a thin line of rough, raised scar tissue – his surgery scar, Sanada realizes as he traces it with his fingers. He slips his hand beneath the fabric of Yukimura's kimono to stroke further down his back, and runs his lips across Yukimura's warm skin to kiss his other collarbone. He feels hot all over, especially there, too preoccupied with Yukimura's beautiful body to entertain any thoughts of shame. He raises his other hand to Yukimura's shoulder and starts to push him backwards, gently, to lay him down on the futon.
"Mmm," coos Yukimura, leaning back and stretching out his legs, his arms still around Sanada's neck. Sanada reaches down to undo the knot at the back of Yukimura's obi – he can't imagine that lying on it would be comfortable – but doesn't unwrap the sash all the way, just loosens it so that Yukimura's kimono falls open in the front, revealing his long legs, well-toned from all his years of tennis. Yukimura lets go of Sanada's neck and lies down, gazing up at him with raw desire in his eyes. Sanada kneels between Yukimura's legs and lays a hand on one of his thighs, bending down to kiss him again, Yukimura moaning softly into his mouth. Yukimura wraps his arms around Sanada's waist to pull him down closer, and runs his hands over Sanada's back, sinking his fingertips in when Sanada moves to kiss the side of his neck. Sanada caresses Yukimura's thigh, and Yukimura squirms underneath him, arching his back and rolling his hips in a way that makes Sanada's breath catch in his throat. They're pressed so close to each other now that Sanada can feel every movement Yukimura makes. He shifts his legs a little, trying to find a position where he can hold himself up so that he's not squishing Yukimura, and once he's found it he leans forward and starts to kiss Yukimura's neck and shoulders again, one arm braced on the futon, slipping his other hand inside the loose folds of Yukimura's kimono to stroke his waist.
"Ohh, Gen," moans Yukimura, his voice gone high, and Sanada's face goes hot. "Oh, yes, there…"
Sanada kisses Yukimura's ear. "Seiichi," he murmurs, just before taking Yukimura's earlobe between his lips. He still doesn't have a clue what he's doing, but it feels warm and good and right, and Yukimura seems to be enjoying it too, his moans growing more desperate as their bodies rub together. Sanada can feel him trembling. He presses his leg a little further forward and Yukimura clenches his fingers in the fabric of Sanada’s kimono, rolling his hips and making these soft but desperate noises that make Sanada’s whole body shudder just to hear them, the heat of arousal becoming almost unbearable. And suddenly Yukimura’s muscles go tense and he lets out a sound that’s almost like a sob, arching his back and gripping Sanada’s kimono so tightly that Sanada thinks he feels Yukimura’s fingernails through the fabric, his body jerking beneath Sanada’s for a few seconds before his tension eases and he lets go, panting with exhaustion.
Oh, thinks Sanada, he just. I made him–
And with that thought it’s too much and Sanada clenches his eyes shut, a low groan forcing its way out of his throat in spite of his efforts to choke it back, the sensation spreading over him so intense, somehow so much more than when it’s only him. He feels Yukimura's body everywhere, feels Yukimura's hand reaching up to cup the side of his face, and as he finishes and his body goes weak he leans into the touch and just stays like that for a moment, eyes closed, letting Yukimura caress him. His arms and legs begin to buckle and he knows he's got to move soon or else he's going to end up lying like dead weight on top of Yukimura, but he doesn't want to lose the way they're touching right now, not yet. He bends his neck down to touch his forehead to Yukimura's, moves his arm just a little to run his fingers through Yukimura's hair. Yukimura's hand moves to the back of his neck to hold him there until, perhaps sensing that Sanada is close to collapsing on top of him, he nudges Sanada gently to one side, sort of rolling him over to lay beside him on the futon. Sanada opens his eyes and looks over at him. Yukimura is curled on his side, his kimono a mess of disheveled layers that are hardly covering him at all anymore. Sanada reaches out to put an arm around him, the urge to touch him, to be close to him softer now but no less real. Yukimura moves closer, smiling this radiant smile that's different from anything Sanada's ever seen before, all peace and satisfaction and delight. He lays his head on Sanada's chest and closes his eyes, looking so perfectly happy that it makes Sanada's heart ache. There's nothing he wouldn't do if it would mean Yukimura would always be this happy. He feels a swell of protectiveness and holds him a little tighter, one hand covering his scar.
Yukimura lets out a soft sigh. "Well," he says sleepily, "that was a nice surprise." He slings an arm over Sanada's chest and starts tracing slow circles across his skin with one fingertip. "I might have to start finding more excuses to wear my kimono."
Sanada's face goes hot and he sputters for a moment trying to come up with a response to that. "I. Um. I don't… I mean. I wouldn't…" He sighs, feeling too tired and too good to keep up the effort of being flustered right now. "I wouldn't mind."