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If You Love Me Right

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Souji looks a wreck.

He lays there limp, still shivering with what must be the occasional aftershock because he lets out a tiny, choked sound whenever they happen. His hair is a mess; simultaneously tangled and plastered to his forehead with sweat and god it’s sexy. His eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, with pupils blown so wide they eclipse the stormy gray of his eyes with inky black.

And ohhhhh, it’s a ridiculously awesome feeling, the realization that he did this. That he’s the one that gets to see Souji like this, that he’s the one that made Souji like this. Their stoic, pragmatic, always-put-together leader, a panting, boneless mess underneath him and Yosuke did that.

It almost makes him hard again. Hell, he wishes he could get hard again; he kind of wants to hear Souji make more of those amazing sounds like right now, but they’ve been going at it for a while and even with his raging teenage hormones, Yosuke is kind of worn out. He can’t even imagine what it must be like for Souji, whose orgasm count has already far exceeded his own.

Yosuke stifles a grin because he did that, too.

“You okay there, Partner?” he murmurs, too exhausted to be much louder than that. He trails his lips over Souji’s collarbone in a semblance of a lazy kiss. The boy beneath him shivers.

Souji’s voice is gone, it seems, because the only response Yosuke gets is a quiet, happy, “hnn.” Souji shifts ever so slightly and Yosuke feels a light pressure against his hair where his boyfriend nuzzles him.

This time, he really does grin.

“That good, huh?”

This time there is a faint snort and Yosuke can feel Souji’s body silently laughing under him. He lifts up just enough to get a better view of his friend, his boyfriend, and props himself up with an elbow. He twines the fingers of that same hand around Souji’s and feels a weak squeeze in return.

A hazy, half-focused pair of rainclouds gaze back up at him, and even if Souji looks like he’s about ready to pass out there is a familiar warmth to his features that makes Yosuke melt every time.

Souji is still soundlessly chuckling as Yosuke reins in the butterflies. “Ass…” he whispers, voice ragged and raw.

Yousuke’s grin stretches wider even as his cheeks flush. It’s softer now, papery-thin, but the roughness of Souji’s voice does things to him, and it makes him remember just why his boyfriend’s voice is like that to begin with. Quiet as he is in his day-to-day life – and even in the TV world where he’s at his most intense, he never raises his voice more than he needs to – Souji is loud in bed.

It nearly startled Yosuke at first, the way Souji had gone from carefully controlled breathing to shaky keening as he’d pressed his mouth to the places Souji hates most about himself. It was then that Yosuke had noticed just how rigid Souji had been before and as he stroked and kissed and licked his way along his partner’s body he’d watched the tension bleed out like a long exhale.

It’s like a release of all the weight he keeps on his shoulders every second of the day. Yosuke has seen it; though he’s pretty sure Souji thinks he’s hiding it well. The stress of always meeting demands, of leading the Investigation Team, of being the perfect, model son/student/nephew/friend that the world has apparently convinced Souji he needs to be – it shows. Not many people know what to look for, or even bother to look at all, but Yosuke does. And it makes him sad. Souji does so much for so many people, Yosuke included, and it’s just one more reason he takes so much pride in seeing Souji come so thoroughly undone at his hands.

It’s just another way that Souji trusts him; that Yosuke can show Souji that he can rely on him to take over if the burden gets to be too great. And maybe, if he’s being honest with himself, it’s a little bit selfish, too. Souji only crumbles where he can see, only gasps and pants and calls out his name, only clings and shudders and comes apart under his fingers, his tongue, his hips. It’s selfish and maybe a little childish, but Souji is beautiful and Yosuke can’t find the energy to fault himself for wanting just a few pieces of his partner to keep all his own and away from the rest of the grabbing, expectant world.

But beyond all of that, Yosuke wants to make sure Souji knows just how loved he is. It’s a sappy thought, and one that Yosuke would probably try and deny if called out on it, but it’s true. Souji doesn’t like himself much, struggles with self-hate and low confidence hidden behind a well-built façade. Even after Izanagi’s intervention, it’s something Yosuke knows will never fully leave his partner alone. He knows because Yosuke’s faced self esteem problems of his own and it’s never not sucked. But Souji’s scars stem from a much deeper place, from much farther back in his childhood, and Yosuke wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if he didn’t take the time every day to remind Souji that he isn’t going anywhere.

Sometimes it’s simple gestures, like squeezing his hand or putting just a bit more emphasis on the “boy” in “boyfriend.”

Other times it’s making him scream and beg until his voice is shot and his body shaking after four orgasms. Yosuke usually winds up with a sore tongue or an aching wrist but it’s well worth it to make sure his partner knows there isn’t a single part of his body that he should be ashamed of.

“I love you,” he whispers into the skin of Souji’s shoulder. Only three words, but he knows Souji will pick up on everything he’s tucked in between the syllables.

There’s a sigh at his ear, the light puff of air from his partner’s shuddering exhale against his sweaty hair. Trembling fingers brush over his bicep, Souji’s body too tired and sated to wrap an arm over Yosuke’s shoulders like he knows Souji wants to. Yosuke kisses his neck, his jaw, the edge of his mouth before Souji lolls his head to fit their lips together properly. The smile he receives as he pulls back is warm enough to thaw ice, and Yosuke secretly adds one more thing to the list of stuff his partner does that only he’s allowed to see.

He presses their foreheads together and breathes in the scent of them as Souji murmurs an “I love you, too,” into the space between their lips.