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Crypto is quiet at first, pliant beneath Makoa’s fingers and lips. He looks almost luminous in the moonlight as Makoa leads Crypto into his room, the shadows falling around him like a cloak as Makoa settles himself on the bed.
Makoa can hardly believe that he’s here at all, that Makoa had asked and Crypto had somehow agreed. But there can be no doubt that Crypto is real, here and now, as his body is warm and solid, pressed along the line of Makoa’s body. It sends a tingle of heat along Makoa’s spine and he moves slowly forward, capturing Crypto’s lips once more. They are warm and a little chapped but Makoa can’t think of a single thing that would be better, gently sucking on Crypto’s lower lip.
Crypto pulls away only to remove the last of his clothing; his jacket is already pooled on Makoa’s floor and Crypto rises up onto his knees to tug his black vest over his head, his expression blank but his cheeks tinged a pretty pink that dusts along his cheekbones disappearing beneath the metal of his jaw. And oh how Makoa longs to reach out, to trail his fingers along this part of Crypto - to feel where metal meets skin and explore this new sensation. Would Crypto be sensitive there? Would he press closer, sighing as he lent into Makoa’s touch or would he shy away, overstimulated or uncomfortable?
For now though, Makoa’s hands squeeze around Crypto’s thighs, enjoying the warm solid weight of them in his palms. Makoa had often admired these thighs many times from afar and a few close up, but he’d never hoped to be here as he was now - bracketed by them, enveloped by their warm heat and underlying strength. He should not be surprised though, Crypto was fast on his feet in the arena, striking swift and silent.
Makoa forces his eyes up away from Crypto’s thighs, although he’s pretty sure that he could spend all day looking at any part of Crypto, and to where Crypto’s shimmying out of his v-neck exposing inch after inch of pale skin that Makoa has yet to see. He sucks in a deep breath to steady himself as Crypto’s dusky, perky nipples and soft chest come into view, just begging for attention from Makoa’s fingers and tongue, just to see what sounds Makoa can draw out of Crypto. The thought alone sends a shiver of desire through Makoa, heat building low down in his gut as his cock starts to take interest.
Crypto’s necklaces swing and bump against his chest as he pulls the v-neck over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Makoa barely has a moment to appreciate the newly revealed skin before Crypto is unfastening his belt and hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. Makoa feels his eyes go wide and he swallows heavily, as Crypto’s hip bones come into view and his gaze is drawn, following the sparse trail of hair that starts just below Crypto’s navel becoming thicker around Crypto’s cock, which is already half-hard and flushed.
This is far from Makoa’s first time but somehow it feels more intimate than anything before, to see Crypto so stripped down from the secretive person he often is. Makoa knows how grateful he should feel that Crypto trusts him enough to show Makoa this side of him at all - bare and naked and vulnerable.
‘Well now I feel overdressed,’ Makoa’s laughs. He lets his hands drift up, stroking up and down over Crypto’s thighs but not any higher for the moment - just teasing Crypto for now, despite how tempted Makoa is to wrap his hand around Crypto’s cock, just to see how it feels in his palm.
‘You are fine,’ Crypto replies, no hint of emotion in his words or voice but then seems to catch himself, blinking slowly. ‘I mean… mianhae… there is no rush. You are always so handsome.’
Now it’s Makoa’s turn to blush, twin fires starting up in his cheeks. He has been complimented on his appearance often enough but coming from Crypto it feels different; special in a way that the words should be treasured, kept safely in his heart and brought out from time to time to look at like an cherished antique.
‘I…,’ Crypto says before faltering, his gaze shifting away from Makoa beneath him as if he’s shy. ‘I like the contrast.’ His fingers twitch at his side, as if he wants to reach out for Makoa before he falters and they fall back to his sides again, balled tightly into fists.
Makoa smiles, something warm unfurling inside of him. He hadn’t expected anything of this, honestly, but he especially hadn’t expected them to get to this point, not even in his wildest imagination or fantasies - Crypto seemed so aloof and untouchable. Everything that Crypto gave him now, every sigh and every single word, Makoa wanted to hold between his thumb and forefinger like a precious jewel and examine it in the moonlight. It was a gift from the deepest depths of Crypto’s soul, a side that Makoa was sure not many in the Outlands could have claimed to see.
‘There are more differences than that,’ Makoa laughs softly, teasing as he starts to shrug out of his layers. There is so much he doesn’t know about Crypto, it’s so hard for Makoa to tell exactly what Crypto is thinking - which is probably what Crypto wants, but still makes things difficult. Makoa was never one to tiptoe around things but to irritate Crypto, to accidentally cause him pain? Even the thought makes him sick. ‘No offence Crypto but you kinda manini, yeah?’ He smirks as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down until he can kick them off into another corner of the bed.
Crypto blinks down at him, no sign of hurt or pleasure at Makoa’s words.
‘When I lifted you up from the dirt last match. Tch-,’ Makoa says, rubbing his hands upwards, following the gentle curve of Crypto’s thighs until his palms are framing Crypto’s hips, thumbs rubbing gently across the jut of the bones there. Crypto is all strong lines and lean muscle but his skin feels so soft and fragile here, where it is usually protected beneath the layers of his clothes, away from the sunlight. ‘Didn’t weigh more than a feather.’
Makoa is half expecting Crypto to rear back or to shut down completely like there had been a power cut despite the fact that Makoa had not meant to insult him - it was merely an observation. Crypto had a kind of athleticism that only came from having a slight build. But so many in the Outlands seemed to have some kind of complex, a fragile ego that took every remark or compliment as backhanded, as a sign of Makoa insulting them when he himself knew that size was not always helpful and could be a hindrance. So often he longed for Bloodhound’s frame, swift and stealthy and good for covering plenty of ground.
Crypto, however, is full of surprises as always and near enough melts in Makoa’s touch, groaning quietly half under his breath.
‘I’m ready, Makoa,’ Crypto says, his voice a little cold and haughty again. But, when Makoa gazes up at Crypto’s face, he can see the bob of Crypto’s adam’s apple in his throat and the flush of colour deepening across Crypto’s cheekbones and in the exposed areas of his neck, where his skin peaks through the gaps in the metal collar.
Makoa smirks to himself. The ice king is melting and he’ll take that as a win. ‘Just gotta be patient. No use in rushing things, good things come to people who wait.’
But Makoa too will admit that he’s had quite enough of waiting, despite his words. His skin feels alight as the kindling in his belly is stoked, finally crackling into a bonfire beneath his skin. He wants to know everything at once - how Crypto reacts when Makoa touches him here, there, everywhere, how Crypto tastes, what noises Makoa can draw from deep in Crypto’s chest where Crypto has not bared to think of.
Makoa’s palms slip around to squeeze at the globes of Crypto’s ass, small but plush enough for his hands to get a good grip. That draws yet another shuddering, shaking moan from Crypto - the sound so guttural that it is as if Makoa had yanked it from him, passed all of those walls of ice that Crypto has built up.
‘Yes, here,’ Crypto sighs, as if now that the wall has melted Crypto can’t hold anything out. He’s like an instrument beneath Makoa’s fingers, playing so sweetly with each touch. ‘More.’ His hips give a little stuttering jerk against Makoa’s palms, as if Crypto is trying to grind back against him.
‘Alright, I’ve got you,’ Makoa says gently, sensing the overwhelming desperation in Crypto. But this Makoa knows, they cannot rush. He pulls himself up into a sitting position, Crypto shifting so that he’s sitting in Makoa’s lap, as Makoa reaches inside his bedside table, pulling out the tube of lube and spreading a liberal amount on his fingers.
He works Crypto open slowly, eager to be slow and gentle, to draw every sound out of him until Crypto is melting beneath his hands. Even as every arch of Crypto’s spine, every whimper and moan, and every squeeze of Crypto’s hands around his shoulders in through his hair, drive Makoa towards haste, he forces himself into slowness - eager to enjoy this, to draw every ounce of pleasure from Crypto until he’s hollow. He debates for a moment, his fingers stilling, when Crypto has relaxed to the gentle rhythm of two of Makoa’s thick fingers thrusting in and out, finding his prostate and smoothing over it.
‘No,’ Crypto snaps, his voice cold and hard. Makoa jerks at the sudden sound of it, like a crash of thunder that draws Makoa out of his thoughts.
‘What is it?’ Makoa says in alarm, withdrawing his fingers from Crypto’s twitching hole, in fear of causing any more harm. He feels his brows draw together, as he searches his mind for what he could’ve done as Crypto had seemed to be enjoying it just moments earlier.
‘No!’ Crypto’s voice is almost ragged now, the cold edge slipping away to reveal something vulnerable beneath it. Makoa would almost think that Crypto was close to tears. ‘More! Please Makoa! I need you inside of me! It’s not enough!’
Makoa glances up in the confusion, the sound of Crypto’s voice like the crack of a whip and almost gasps. For Crypto’s eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide even as his eyes sparkle in the half-light with unshed tears.
‘Crypto,’ he says gently, despite the way his strong heart is thundering in his ears, bringing his clean hand up to caress the hard line of Crypto’s jaw. ‘What’s the matter, ku'uipo?’ The term of endearment slips so easily from his tongue, with no time to worry about whether it’s all too fast to be saying such words.
‘You are being too gentle,’ Crypto grits out, his jaw set stubbornly beneath Makoa’s palm. ‘I will not break. You can be rough.’
‘Harder’ wasn’t exactly a foreign concept for Makoa. Indeed, many of his past partners had seen his size and his strength and wanted only one thing from him - which Makoa was happy to give to them, with full and carefully planned out consent each time, despite the way that his heart craved variety, something softer. But the way Crypto says it, cold and hard like the words are poison to him, has Makoa halting. There’s something wrong about it, so very wrong. It is not a simple plea but something deeper, darker than that.
‘Don’t you want to hurt me?’ Crypto says quickly, his eyes meeting Makoa’s for a mere second before they dart away again. As if he doesn’t want to know the answer
Makoa would think this was a test apart from the desperation that seems to have settled into every atom of Crypto’s being, his once pliant body going hard and rigid around Makoa. And Makoa’s heart aches with it, aches for Crypto - for whatever part of him thinks that this is all he deserves.
‘No, I would never hurt you,’ Makoa says, his voice wobbling. ‘I have sworn to protect as many as I can, that includes you. I want to make you feel good. If we continue, I will be gentle. Do you want to continue?’
He tries to inch back a little, to give Crypto space to think and watches silently as the emotions flit across Crypto’s face. All at once, the fight seems to go out of him and whatever emotion had been building up inside of him like steam in a kettle is released, and Crypto relaxes against him again, his eyes fluttering closed.
‘I believe you,’ Crypto says finally, his eyes opening again to gaze down at Makoa with something that resembles amazement. ‘I would like to continue, if you do. Though I do not understand how to bear gentleness… not anymore.’
That is as much as Crypto has ever admitted to him, about his past, about anything and Makoa takes a shaky breath. Crypto has trusted him with this, has made himself vulnerable and so Makoa resolves to do the best that he can. He forces the shaking from his fingers as he reaches for a condom, making himself as still and as gentle as the mountain, as he rolls it down over himself.
‘You’re ready now,’ he says softly, once he’s done. His left hand, still slick with lube, fits easily into the small of Crypto’s back, holding him there for just a moment as they stare at each other. ‘How would you like to be?’
Crypto seems to think for a moment before he can meet Makoa’s eyes again.
‘You above me,’ he says quietly, his voice placid and void of that hint of desperation that had twisted Makoa’s heart. ‘I want to feel… protected.’ There’s a wry smile playing around the corners of Crypto’s lips as he says it, evidently thinking back to Makoa’s speeches at the Apex Games - of how he wanted to protect everyone there, especially his squad.
Makoa finds himself smiling back, shifting so that Crypto can get onto his hands and knees, as his heart swells - feeling like it might burst. Once Crypto is comfortable, he strokes his hand lovingly down the elegant line of Crypto’s spine, delighting in the way his fingers leave goosebumps in their wake.
‘Tell me if it’s too much,’ Makoa says as he lines himself up.
Crypto grunts, sounding a little frustrated as if this was unlikely, until Makoa slides home inside of him and the grunt turns into a long breathy groan, like all of the air has been forced out of his lungs. He feels so warm and tight around Makoa’s throbbing cock, that Makoa finds himself moaning too, almost losing himself to the sensation and snapping his hips back just to pound into Crypto again. But he holds himself back, waiting until Crypto seems to have a handle on himself before slowly drawing out before thrusting back in, setting an achingly slow rhythm.
‘Crypto,’ Makoa sighs, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He’s suddenly possessed by a kind of desperate feeling that grows as he feels the heat growing inside of him, his climax getting closer and closer. ‘I don’t even know your name.’
Crypto, who had been meeting each of Makoa’s thrusts with his own, stills at the words. As quickly as the heat had risen in Makoa does it give way to cold, chilling him to the bone. Suddenly his own desires seem selfish, foolish even. Crypto was so private, wearing his secrets like a cloak, and who was Makoa to try and get him to share them? Surely Crypto had his reasons.
‘Tae Joon,’ Crypto says quietly after a moment and Makoa’s heart flutters. He wishes desperately that he could see Crypto’s face, to see what emotions were there but all he can do is stroke Crypto’s thighs where they’re flexed, gripping around him. ‘My name is Tae Joon.’
‘Tae Joon,’ Makoa says slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. Yet another precious diamond offered by Crypto, that Makoa can’t help but feel undeserving of. There is an emotion swelling in his heart that feels too big to be contained by even his body; a warmth, a love , pure as starlight. ‘It’s a beautiful name.’
Crypto keens, loud and breathy, and his hips stutter backwards as if Crypto can’t quite stop them, surprised at his own actions.
‘I want…,’ Crypto gasps as if he can hardly catch his breath. ‘I want…’
‘What is it? Anything,’ Makoa says, his teeth sinking into his lip as his hands move mindlessly across Crypto’s skin, wanting to touch every inch of him. At this moment, as in every one, Makoa is sure that he would do anything for Crypto, anything that he asked. Anything to give Crypto pleasure, to make him happy for Makoa can feel the self-loathing rolling off Crypto in waves, echoed by his own and surely Crypto deserves more than that.
‘My name,’ Crypto gasps, a great tremble running though his body as if even saying the words hurt him. ‘Please. Say my name, Makoa.’
‘Tae Joon,’ Makoa says, his voice shaky as he fumbles for Crypto’s cock beneath him. It feels achingly hard once he’s got a hand around it, stroking in the same slow but firm rhythm as the slow drive of his hips, from base to tip, spreading a thumb through the pre-come that is leaking from there. ‘Tae Joon, come for me.’
Crypto gasps, his body quivering once before he goes rigid, spilling hot and fast over Makoa’s fist and his own stomach as he clenches around Makoa’s cock. The stimulation is too much on Makoa’s already overstimulated cock and he has just enough time to pull out before he too is coming, vision turning white at the edges as the pleasure that has been building inside of him until the pressure was unbearable is finally set free.
‘So good,’ Makoa praises once he has come back to himself, lowering both of them onto the bed. He feels hot and sticky, in need of a good shower but still clinging to this moment as if it’s his last - to the quiet intimacy that Makoa fears might break any moment, as Crypto returns to himself.
He nuzzles forward, pressing a kiss to Crypto’s shoulder blade before settling his head in the crook of Crypto’s neck - the sweaty ends of Crypto’s hair tickling his nose and the scent of Crypto strongest here, like a warm blanket surrounding him. Makoa can feel his body growing heavy like a stone, sleep fluttering on the edges of his consciousness as his eyes slip closed.
‘Makoa,’ Crypto says and Makoa can feel the vibrations of his voice against his skin, where they are pressed together so tightly.
‘Mm, yes,’ Makoa mumbles. ‘I might not be the best for conversations right now, yeah?’ He chuckles to himself, rubbing his cheek gently over the ridges of Crypto’s neck prosthetics. He wonders how much of this Crypto can feel, if any, or if these parts are as dead and cold as simple metal.
‘You did all of this,’ Crypto says, his voice cold again. ‘Just to make me give up my name to you? Didn’t you? Soljighage malhae. I can’t fault your plan.’
It makes Makoa’s eyes snap open and his panicked heart beat even faster. What had happened to Crypto? Makoa can’t begin to imagine, for even though he often woke up gasping and tearing at the sheets as he dreamt that mud had begun to fill his lungs so that he could hardly breathe and his father - battered and bloodied - lay on the ground in front of them But all of this was still nothing compared to the wildness in Crypto’s eyes, ablaze with fire. There was terror there, within their depths, but also a kind of resigned emptiness.
As if this was simply the way of the Universe, that Crypto had just accepted that everyone was out to get him.
‘I’m glad you think I’m smart enough for that,’ Makoa laughs. ‘That’s a pretty complicated plan and Gibraltar’s a pretty straightforward guy. If I wanted to know and try to figure you out, well I woulda just asked.’ He chuckles again, letting the tension that had gathered between them roll off him with every shake of his big shoulders. ‘I have been hanging around Bloodhound a lot, you’d know if I was tryna intimidate you, brotha.’
Crypto’s reaction isn’t at all what Makoa was expecting. He’s expecting either acceptance, understanding of Makoa’s words and their truth, or for Crypto to push away and close off from him, deciding that Makoa is no better than the rest of them - just another person trying to use him.
Instead, Crypto’s handsome face crumples in on itself by degrees - his eyebrows pulling down and together, a crease forming between them and Crypto’s lower lips wobbling. Then, before Makoa can do anything, there are tears running down Crypto’s face - droplets of water that sparkle in the light like diamonds, leaving shaky tracks behind them down Crypto’s cheeks and across his lips, that are parted in a silent cry.
‘Come here, manini. I’m sorry,’ Makoa says, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. He has blundered somehow, making things even worse while trying to repair things between them. Crypto is both as deadly as a dagger and as delicate as a petal, for whatever has happened has made him this way.
‘The name’s already forgotten, brotha. Don’t waste your days worrying about it,’ Makoa says gently, settling Crypto a little more securely against his chest. Despite all his size has done for him, sometimes Makoa wishes he could be smaller, less intimidating, invading every space. But in times like this he’s glad for it, that he can be big enough for the both of them - his large body enveloping Crypto’s smaller form, keeping them both safe. He is maunga, a mountain - immovable.
The name is already slipping from his mind, the letters burned out - striked through with ash, as Crypto shifts in his arms. When Makoa glances down towards Crypto, he sees that Crypto is already looking up towards him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears as his gaze tracks over Makoa’s face. Makoa wonders what he sees.
‘I want you to know it,’ Crypto says, his voice so quiet and shaky that Makoa almost misses it. The words seem to surprise both of them, Crypto’s eyebrows drawing together once again as Crypto’s gaze slips away from Makoa, settling on some point on the other side of the room. ‘I want you to know me.’