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touch my neck and i'll touch yours

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When Shimazaki arrives, with his lips the color of rubies, roses, temptation, Serizawa’s first thought is something like, Am I going to get through the night like this?

Knowing Shimazaki, most likely not. The grin on those carmine lips is knife-sharp, long lashes thick with mascara fluttering, golden eyeshadow sparkling when the light hits them. Shimazaki might not be able to see how he looks now, but he definitely seems to know he looks good. Good enough that Serizawa is half considering canceling the date and spending the entire evening in bed with the other man. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, hard.

“Sorry I took so long,” Shimazaki says casually. “Minegishi is definitely a perfectionist. I never took him as a person who knew anything about makeup.”

“He did a good job,” Serizawa manages to say past the lump in his throat.

“I look good, then?” As if he really needs to ask, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. With his meticulously, expertly applied makeup, his black button-down patterned with bright red flowers, his dark blazer with golden buttons and slim black pants leading to red bottoms.

He feels a little underdressed himself in his presence, even in his best suit.

“Yeah,” Serizawa replies. “Really- really good.”

And Shimazaki grins again. It takes a lot of effort not to let out a little whine right then and there.




Dinner couldn’t go by much slower. It’s a nice place downtown, Shimazaki is the one paying for it with… money that Serizawa still isn't sure how he's getting. It’s one of those few times Serizawa is glad Shimazaki can’t see because he can’t stop staring like some kind of idiot, but he figures Shimazaki must know otherwise. Must be able to feel his eyes on him.

There’s a lipstick stain on his empty wine glass and just a bit smeared onto his napkin. Serizawa’s mind is already wandering, watching painted lips as Shimazaki eats, talks, does anything, and wonders what it would be like if they left stains on Serizawa’s clothes, or skin.

He practically sighs in relief when they both finish, when they pay, when they rise to their feet and find their shoes outside of their little room. His hand settles on the small of Shimazaki’s back and Shimazaki hums.

“Oh, before we go,” Shimazaki says. “Can you help me in the bathroom?”


Shimazaki is digging through his bag, feeling around for something, then is waving lipstick in Serizawa’s face. “It just needs to be reapplied a little bit, I can feel it. Help me?”

“We’re not going anywhere else though?” Serizawa says.

“I know that.”

Ah, he can see what Shimazaki is trying to do and he’s falling for it so easily. But he lets himself, lets himself be drawn in, tells himself that it won’t last much longer and that he can get Shimazaki back for his teasing soon. So he just gives a little ‘okay’ and guides Shimazaki towards the bathroom, though Shimazaki doesn’t really seem like he needs the help.

The lipstick is pushed into Serizawa’s palm once they enter and Serizawa gently tilts Shimazaki’s head up with one hand under his chin. Even in the heels, Shimazaki can’t quite match his height, and while he hasn’t outwardly expressed any annoyance about it Serizawa is sure it’s there.

It’s oddly intimate, painting Shimazaki’s already cherry-red lips for him, his hand under his chin to keep him steady, one of Shimazaki’s hands touching the front of his suit. Then Shimazaki pulls his head back and pops his lips. “That’s fine. Thanks.”

Serizawa clicks the cap back in place on the lipstick and hands it back to Shimazaki, who drops it into his bag without much care for where it goes. Long fingers card through his dark hair and Serizawa tracks the movement closely with his eyes, which then flicker down to Shimazaki’s lips again which are now slightly parted, his pink tongue just barely visible. He doesn’t realize they’ve moved closer to one another until he feels Shimazaki’s breath close to his neck.

One hand comes back up to cradle Shimazaki’s cheek and Shimazaki leans into the touch, both of his hands running up Serizawa’s arms to his shoulders. They’re so close, Serizawa considers kissing him and might have had the bathroom door not creaked open at that moment. Both of their heads snap up, but within an instant, they’re no longer in the bathroom, and instead on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant.

Well, he can’t say Shimazaki’s abilities don’t come in handy sometimes. Shimazaki draws back, heels clicking against the concrete, but one hand remains on Serizawa’s elbow.

“Katsuya,” Shimazaki says, quiet, almost so quiet that Serizawa can’t hear him over the cars driving past. “My place, or yours?”

“Mine,” he manages to breathe out and Shimazaki smiles, red lips curling devilishly. The hand on his elbow squeezes and they’re disappearing again, reappearing in front of a familiar door. Serizawa digs his house keys out of his pocket, his hands trembling a little bit as he fits the key into the lock and twists. Shimazaki enters first, stepping out of his heels and shedding his jacket as he ventures in further, tossing it aside to land on the couch.

Serizawa comes up behind him once he locks the door, hands running along his waist, nose in his hair. Shimazaki leans back against him with a content hum.

“I felt you staring,” Shimazaki states casually. “All night.”

At the moment, Serizawa can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed over Shimazaki’ observation. He squeezes his waist, earning a sharp inhale from the other man. “I wish you could’ve seen yourself,” he says softly. “You’re so…”


“So-- handsome, beautiful, I…” He swallows, ducking his head down to kiss the exposed skin of Shimazaki’s neck. Shimazaki shivers at the contact. “I didn’t think I’d be able to make it through the night.”

Shimazaki is turning then, turning to face Serizawa. Both hands run up Serizawa’s front, fingers undoing the buttons of his suit jacket. “What were you thinking about?” He asks while Serizawa begins to feel a little dizzy from the sudden heat enveloping them both. Slender fingers are tugging at his tie, loosening it, then popping open the first few top buttons of Serizawa’s shirt. The jacket is pushed from his shoulders, down his arms, and Serizawa tosses it aside.

“Can I show you?” Serizawa asks, and Shimazaki laughs.

With one hand running over the broad, exposed expanse of Serizawa’s chest, Shimazaki murmurs, “Go ahead.”

Effortlessly he lifts Shimazaki off of the floor, one arm beneath his ass to keep him held up while Shimazaki wraps his arms around his neck with another light laugh.

They kiss, lips meeting easily, mouths parting so their tongues can meet. Serizawa almost trips on the way to the bedroom with all of his focus on the man in his arms, and he uses one hand to grip the doorframe and keep himself upright. They both laugh into one another’s mouths.

Shimazaki begins kissing at his jaw, down his neck, and in his wake, Serizawa can feel the undeniable texture and vague stickiness of lipstick lingering on his skin. Is Shimazaki trying to mark him? He plops down on the edge of the bed, Shimazaki in his lap, and Shimazaki hums.

The tie is tossed aside, the partially-opened shirt is finally fully unbuttoned, Shimazaki making quick work of it, pulling it off of Serizawa’s arms, throwing it aside. He moans into Serizawa's mouth when Serizawa slides his hands along his waist, down to his ass, where he gives a squeeze.

“How will you fuck me tonight?” Shimazaki croons, then laughs breathlessly when Serizawa unbuckles and pulls his belt off so he can shove his hands into his pants and properly knead at his ass.

“However you want me to,” Serizawa replies, nuzzling against his cheek.

Shimazaki gives a thoughtful sound like he's thinking very hard about it when they both know he's already made up his mind. “Okay. Hand the reins over to me for a bit.”

There is no argument, Serizawa gladly gives Shimazaki control for however long he wants. Shimazaki pushes Serizawa back so he's lying down, one hand on his chest, while his other hand comes up to undo the buttons of his own shirt.

Each button popping open exposes more and more pale skin, marked by a few small moles here and there, a few old scars. Nothing new to Serizawa, who has kissed each and everyone one of them with reverence more than once. And he will do it again if Shimazaki wanted him to.

When the shirt is slipped off, tossed aside, Serizawa’s hands move to run along Shimazaki’s waist, down to his hipbones, making the other man shiver then hum in appreciation. They don’t speak for a bit, focused instead on the feeling of their hands on each other, on maneuvering themselves so they can actually get out of their clothes. Shimazaki’s pants take some time, and he rolls off of Serizawa so he can actually wiggle them down his legs.

Serizawa sits up when Shimazaki moves, and as he works on tugging his own pants off he hears Shimazaki rifling through the bedside drawer for what he assumes is the familiar shape of the lube bottle.

He assumes correctly because it lands next to him with a muted thump against the sheets. Then there is weight against his back, Shimazaki’s lean frame curling around him from behind, kisses leaving cherry-red marks against Serizawa’s shoulder. A hot tongue runs over his skin, making him sigh aloud.

“Katsuya, lie down for me,” Shimazaki says against his skin and Serizawa gladly obliges, pulling away only to lie back in the sheets, his head propped up on the pillows. Shimazaki navigates his body with ease, hands mapping out the firm muscle in his arms and chest, the softness of his belly, tongue running over his navel and further down, down, down.

Lips press teasing little kisses against the inside of his thigh, Serizawa can see the marks it leaves behind and he’s sure Shimazaki knows they’re there, too, even if he can’t see them. It’ll take some effort to wash off, he thinks distantly, then finds he doesn’t really care.

His cock, half-mast, twitches in interest when Shimazaki’s slender fingers brush over the heated skin.

Shimazaki’s legs kick up behind him, crossing at the ankles as he begins to casually pump Serizawa’s cock into full, aching hardness. Each time he pulls the foreskin back his thumb brushes over the head, the leaking tip. The touch is making Serizawa whimper, which in turn makes Shimazaki smirk.

“There we go,” Shimazaki breathes when Serizawa is finally, finally hard within his hand. Then with little to no preamble, he takes all into his mouth in one go, swallowing him up until his nose hits the coarse hair at the base. Serizawa gives a soft, surprised noise, his toes curling, one hand coming up to grasp Shimazaki’s dark hair. It’s still soft under his touch, always carefully maintained, soft and glossy. He runs his thumb over Shimazaki’s scalp, over and over.

The other man stays still for a few moments, save for how his tongue works along the length, nearly gagging around the mouthful that hits his throat, then he pulls off with a soft gasp. Serizawa can’t ask him if he’s okay, because he’s already laving his tongue over the head of his cock, one hand pulling the foreskin back, lips kissing the tip sweetly. There is a light smear of red left behind by Shimazaki’s lipstick, which is a bit smudged now, he notes.

“Slow down a bit,” Serizawa manages to gasp and Shimazaki smiles devilishly, bringing Serizawa into his mouth again-- not all at once this time at least, but inch by inch. Teeth lightly graze the skin, making Serizawa jolt, thrust upwards, and Shimazaki lets out a startled sound.

“Ah, s-sorry--” Serizawa stutters out, but Shimazaki gives him a hard suck to shut him up. It works. The words melt into low moans.

There is drool forming at the corner of Shimazaki’s lips, Serizawa can see it hazily, and see how it begins to run down his chin as he sucks Serizawa’s cock. He can also see the subtle rocking of Shimazaki’s hips against the bed, seeking out friction, stimulation against his own cock. But he doesn’t voice any desperation, just continues blowing him.

And he swears Shimazaki gives the best blowjobs in the world, but he doesn’t have many to really compare him to. Still, there is no denying he’s good with his mouth, and his fingers, which stroke Serizawa’s cock in time with the movements of his head.

Heat coils and burns in the pit of his belly, travels further down, down, and the muscle in his thighs clenches tight.

Without thinking, he tightens his grip into Shimazaki’s hair and holds his head still. Shimazaki gives no noise of protest, just lets Serizawa fuck his mouth. In fact, Shimazaki outright moans around his mouthful, jaw slackening. Little tears are beading up at the corners of his eyes, smudging his eyeliner, and Serizawa can see how he’s messing up his foundation but he doesn’t care and neither does Shimazaki.

He comes with little warning, hot on Shimazaki’s tongue, and Shimazaki sucks him right through it. The other man shudders and whines a little when Serizawa strokes his hair, still groaning softly as he empties out the last little bit of his come into Shimazaki’s mouth. Shimazaki finally pulls back, swallowing, and reaches up to wipe the spit from his chin.

With his hair a mess from Serizawa’s hands, his eyeliner smudged, foundation patchy, lipstick smeared, and face dusted pink, Shimazaki looks so beautifully debauched. The sight makes Serizawa’s softening cock twitch again.

Wordlessly, Shimazaki clambers on top of Serizawa and kisses him breathless. His leaking cock grinds between their bellies and he gives a soft moan into Serizawa’s mouth at the feeling. Both of his hands run down Shimazaki’s back, down to his ass which he squeezes tight until Shimazaki is arching into the contact. He gives it a sharp smack, which causes Shimazaki to pull away from the kiss with a gasp.

Haa, could you be more patient?” Shimazaki practically giggles. He holds Serizawa’s face in both hands, their foreheads touching, thumbs running over his cheekbones. And Serizawa just laughs a little as he feels for the bottle of lube with one hand.

“You make it really hard.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

“No, I mean--” Serizawa laughs again. “You make it really hard to be patient.”

“So what will it take to get you to fuck me into the mattress?” Shimazaki asks casually, sitting up on Serizawa’s abdomen. Serizawa can see Shimazaki’s cock better now, leaking onto his belly, aching for attention.

Spilling lube onto his fingers, he replies, “You just need to ask. Hey, lean back a little.”

And Shimazaki complies, leaning back, his hands on Serizawa’s knees and feet planted against the bed. Serizawa reaches out, gives a ghost of touch against Shimazaki’s cock, then circles one slick finger around Shimazaki’s hole. He sees it clench at the chilled sensation, waits a few moments, then begins to work it inside. Gaze travels back up Shimazaki’s body, drinking in the lean lines of his muscle, the way his whole body seems to blush a pretty pink, how his chest begins to heave. His normally shut eyes are now screwed shut even tighter, brows furrowing.

Serizawa presses the finger in up to the knuckle. He thrusts it in and out a few times, testing, which makes Shimazaki squirm, then begins to add a second.

His other hand strokes one of Shimazaki’s thighs soothingly. “Is this okay?”

“I’d tell you if it wasn’t,” Shimazaki replies shakily. He tips his head back as the second finger works itself in alongside the first and Serizawa watches how his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows thickly.

Then he begins to fuck his fingers in and out at a steady pace, the glide easy and slick inside of Shimazaki thanks to the generous amount of lubricant. Shimazaki pants heavily, bites his painted lip, rocks his hips hungrily against Serizawa’s fingers that begin to fuck him faster. Serizawa feels hard again already, heavy against his thigh, and he thinks he’d like to bury his cock into Shimazaki’s tight little ass sooner rather than later.

“Katsuya,” Shimazaki whines above him. “Katsuya, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Serizawa curls his fingers and Shimazaki jolts.

“Yes. Now just…” Shimazaki squirms, swatting at Serizawa’s arm. Serizawa slips his fingers out and Shimazaki drops himself back onto his hips. When he feels his cock grind against the curve of Shimazaki’s ass, Serizawa groans. Shimazaki is feeling for the lubricant again, when he finds it he’s dumping it into his hand so he can stroke it onto Serizawa’s waiting cock.

Shimazaki wastes no time with any further teasing. When it seems like they’ve prepared enough, he leans forward onto one elbow, his other hand guiding Serizawa’s cock to his hole. He begins to sink down, slow, and Serizawa groans as that tight heat steadily engulfs his cock. The head pops in with relative ease, and Shimazaki doesn’t stop until he’s full, so full, his ass against Serizawa’s thighs.

Serizawa rubs his thighs, watching his expression closely for any signs of discomfort. He opens his mouth, ready to ask if he’s okay, if he needs another moment, but Shimazaki is already moving. He lifts himself up, then drops himself back onto Serizawa’s cock. Over and over he repeats this movement, his pace quickening, his mouth falling open to let out the sweetest little moans Serizawa’s ever heard.

He sits up then, one arm winding around Shimazaki’s waist, the other hand planted against the bed. Almost immediately Shimazaki is finding his face with his hands again, fitting their mouths together, smearing lipstick against Serizawa’s own lips.

“You’re so good,” Shimazaki murmurs between kisses. “I think you-- I think you might have ruined every other dick in existence for me.”

“Not that you’re taking anyone else’s dick, right?”

“Of course not,” Shimazaki laughs breathlessly. He grinds down, and Serizawa snaps his hips up to meet him. A part of him preens at that, that Shimazaki hasn’t even considered sleeping with anyone else since the start of their relationship. A man like Ryo Shimazaki, handsome and devilish, who attracts the hungry or envious gazes of everyone in the room, able to have anyone he wants, choosing instead to exclusively be with him. And he thinks himself as rather plain in comparison, but Shimazaki is intent on telling him otherwise when he comforts in his inexperienced, slightly awkward way.

Serizawa’s mouth presses to Shimazaki’s skin, sucks and bites dark bruises into his neck and into his shoulder. Shimazaki hisses, jolts, digs his nails into Serizawa’s shoulders and whimpers out a mantra of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ each time Serizawa meets him when he drops down.

“Turn around,” Serizawa manages to gasp out suddenly, his hips going still. Shimazaki stills as well, cracks his eyes open and blinks a few times, but he doesn’t question it. Serizawa’s cock slips out of him and he maneuvers himself until his back is to Serizawa’s chest.

“Like this?” Shimazaki practically purrs.

“Yes.” And he watches over Shimazaki’s shoulder as Shimazaki grabs his cock again, guiding it to his hole, sinking down onto it. Serizawa reaches around to wrap his hand around Shimazaki’s cock, pumping it steadily as Shimazaki moves his hips, Serizawa striking him at a different angle now. Shimazaki’s abdomen is quivering, his cock leaking copious amounts of pre-come, making the slide of Serizawa’s hand over it that much easier. Then he draws his hand back and Shimazaki grumbles in complaint.

With a little laugh, Serizawa hooks his arms beneath Shimazaki's knees, pushing his legs up as he fucks him in his lap. Shimazaki's hands grasp onto Serizawa's arms, holding tight, his pretty red lips parted as he pants and whimpers with each thrust upward.

“Feels good,” Shimazaki chokes out. He tilts his head back against Serizawa's shoulder. “If I -- haa -- if I knew it'd have this effect on you I -- a-ah -- would have done it sooner.”

“You did it just to work me up?” Serizawa pants into his ear.

“I did it for no one but myself,” Shimazaki shoots back. “B-but this is-- a wonderful side benefit, I haa-- have to admit.”

Shimazaki’s hand moves to his belly, where Serizawa knows he can feel the small bump in his lower abdomen each time that he fucks into him. He plants kisses against Shimazaki’s shoulder, tongue running over the marks he’s left. Then he’s pulling out without warning and Shimazaki nearly mewls in protest. He doesn’t have much of a chance to get a word out, however, because Serizawa is flipping them over. Shimazaki on his elbows and knees, Serizawa leaning over him.

“Katsuya,” Shimazaki gasps, then trails off into a moan when Serizawa pushes back into him and begins to fuck him at a steady pace. The bed creaks under their movements, he knows in the morning he’ll be embarrassed over the thought of their neighbors undoubtedly overhearing them, but for the time being, he doesn’t care. His fingers dig hard into Shimazaki’s hips, sure to leave bruises later. “Are you holding back?”

He leans further over Shimazaki’s back so he can press a kiss to the nape of his neck, then between his shoulder blades. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Shimazaki says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’d rather you didn’t, actually.”

It makes something inside him snap. Those soft words of permission. The need laced within them, like Shimazaki wants to be broken in two. Like he wants to scream Serizawa’s name. Like he wants to wake up the neighbors. Like he wants to be incapable of walking for the next day.

Well, who is Serizawa to deny him?

“Okay,” his voice is a low rumble. One hand shoves Shimazaki’s face against the pillows, eliciting a small gasp from the man, and then he grabs both of Shimazaki’s wrists, letting Shimazaki’s upper body fall against the bed. With one hand, he keeps hold of his wrists, pulling Shimazaki’s arms back behind him. The toned muscle in his back shifts beneath his skin, his shoulder blades jutting out.

When he fucks him, it’s hard and it’s fast and Shimazaki is practically wailing into the pillows, letting his sounds spill forth unabashedly. Lipstick stains the pillowcases, the sheets, wherever Shimazaki’s turns his face or bites into.

“Deep,” Shimazaki hiccups, then cries out when Serizawa thrusts in at a different angle and hits that sensitive gland deep within him. Serizawa breathes heavily, sweat running down his forehead, and aims for that spot over and over, hitting it without fail each time. The other man practically sobs. “Fuck, yes.

Shimazaki’s arms stretch and his fingers flex, twisting in Serizawa’s grasp, desperate for something to grab onto. Serizawa shows him some mercy, releasing him and letting him grab at the sheets. But just a moment later he’s pulling Shimazaki’s upper body off of the bed, sliding his hands up his abdomen to his chest where he teases his nipples. His nipples always seemed so sensitive, Serizawa remembers, and it’s true if Shimazaki’s reaction -- whining and squirming -- is enough to go by.

One hand drops down to Shimazaki’s cock, stroking it steadily, pre-come smearing across his fingers. Shimazaki turns his head enough over his shoulder that their lips can meet again, kissing hot and open-mouthed, tongues rolling against each other.

“On your back,” Serizawa suddenly commands into his mouth and Shimazaki, usually so stubborn and domineering, obeys without protest. Serizawa slips out of him, waits until Shimazaki’s dropped back onto the bed and rolled over, then pulls Shimazaki’s legs around his waist.

They kiss again when Serizawa presses back inside, and this time his movements are slower, more sensual, yet still striking deep, still hitting that sweet spot and making Shimazaki moan into his mouth. Arms loop beneath Serizawa’s armpits, hands curling against Serizawa’s back, while Serizawa reaches up to grasp the headboard with one hand.

The closer they get to their release, quickly beginning to appear on the horizon, the faster Serizawa begins to fuck him. It’s a little sloppier, a little less coordinated, but Shimazaki still cries out and Serizawa groans along with him. He watches the other man stroke himself in time with the thrusts while the nails of his other hand dig into his back.

“Ryo,” he pants. “Can I come in you?”

“Yes,” Shimazaki chokes out, and with one more hit to his prostate he’s coming, spasming and clenching around Serizawa’s cock, thick strands of semen shooting out over his fingers and his belly. Serizawa grinds in, keeps that stimulation against his prostate going, making Shimazaki’s sounds go higher and higher pitched. And then Serizawa comes, hard enough to make his whole body shake, releasing deep inside of Shimazaki and Shimazaki holds onto him tight all through it.

He grinds in a little bit more until he finds he’s a bit too tired to keep going. They both inhale sharply when Serizawa pulls out, and a bit of come follows him, leaking out of Shimazaki. Shimazaki hasn’t let him go just yet, still clinging on tight, face against his shoulder.

It takes a bit of maneuvering to get onto his back so Shimazaki can rest on his chest, but even then the position doesn’t last long because Shimazaki is suddenly wiggling around and complaining, “Feels gross.”

“Do you want a shower?” Serizawa suggests.

“Maybe a bath,” Shimazaki grumbles. “Ugh, sticky.”

“You need to wash that makeup off, too,” Serizawa points out, running a hand through Shimazaki’s hair. “As much as I like how it looks.”

Not that that matters, it’s been smeared and smudged and ruined and in desperate need of washing off. Shimazaki still manages to make it look good, somehow. Serizawa’s cock twitches and he wills it back down. No more tonight, he’s too tired.

“Okay. You’ll help me.” It’s not even a question, it’s a statement. Serizawa will help him. There’s no backing out of that.

“Then you can help me wash and change the sheets in the morning,” Serizawa replies.

“Sounds fair.”

Yet neither of them move for another minute or so, too tired, their limbs still feeling a bit heavy and their knees weak.

It finally takes a bite on his collarbone and Shimazaki whining out a ‘Katsuya ’ to finally get them out of bed.

While Shimazaki runs the bath, Serizawa inspects himself in the mirror, finding himself thoroughly marked with lipstick and hickeys.

He thinks he’ll wash off the lipstick stains off later. They stand out nicely on his skin.

They should do this again sometime.