Makoto always gives and gives and gives. It frustrates Sousuke as he always has somewhere to go – someone to help whether friends or family or the elderly neighbour that can’t carry her groceries into her home. He feeds stray cats, volunteers at a shelter and coaches kids swimming as his job. And he always still has time for his siblings, for Haru, for any of his friends.
And Sousuke is okay with that. It’s part of who Makoto is. He always thinks of other’s before himself. Always thinks about improving their day, their lives and it’s just… Makoto. And so he accepted that as he accepted every part of him and Sousuke gets it – he really does but sometimes… well, sometimes, Makoto needs to think of himself.
“Sousuke,” Makoto whispers as he tries to reach out and Sousuke shakes his head.
“Do I need to tie you up?” he threatens.
He doesn’t really want to tie Makoto up. Even if he likes the aesthetic appeal. Even if he likes the idea of Makoto naked and bound and wanting. But then he wants Makoto to stop giving out of choice, stop thinking about others because he wants to, not because he has been forced so Makoto shakes his head, his hair falling in his green eyes and Sousuke moves and continues his kiss.
Makoto is naked, Sousuke is wearing only boxer briefs and the day is turning into night, dying sunlight casting patterns on the walls, on Makoto’s skin and Sousuke is kissing at Makoto’s neck, licking at his pulse, nipping at the flesh. He is taking his time – Sousuke is intending to worship every inch of Makoto’s skin, each dip of his muscles, each ridge of where his bones jut out – collarbone, hip bone… knee, ankle…
He plans to but he knows neither of them have the patience. As Makoto gives too damn much and Sousuke works too hard at Samezuka, the positon as head of the athletic department giving him long hours and more headaches than he can count, so even though he kisses and brushes over nipples, skirts his tongue along the curve of Makoto’s abs, and presses fingers slowly into his body, he doesn’t have the patience he needs when Makoto arches his back, when he pants and moans and encourages.
And Makoto always gives and gives but Sousuke pins him down to the bed with his body, clasps hold of his hand and holds it tight while he moves inside him, controlling the pace, whispering words into Makoto’s skin as he tries to make each move of his hips perfect, angled to make Makoto’s gasp and close his eyes and twitch and buck up into Sousuke’s body.
It takes too little time. Also too long. Sousuke feels climax rumble underneath the surface of his skin and he finds Makoto’s lips then, threads a hand through his soft damp hair and uses his other hand to stroke him firmly, feeling each inch of his firm flesh in his hand as he brings Makoto with him. He wants Makoto to forget about everything else – stop giving – and just think about this and nothing else.
And when Makoto comes, Sousuke swallows his moan in his mouth and follows him after a few shallow thrusts, their bodies sweaty and sticking together but that doesn’t matter. As the sun is pretty much set and no one else will need Makoto now. No one but Sousuke.
Their kiss is slow, tongues tracing each other’s mouth and Sousuke pushes himself up on his elbows and looks down, sees the small content smile on Makoto’s face, the flush of his cheeks, the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and he returns that smile before he presses a kiss to his forehead.
“Tonight it’s all you,” he says and Makoto gives him a quizzical look. “Happy anniversary.”
He sees the shock, the moment when Makoto wants to apologise but Sousuke doesn’t care – it’s only a date, a memory of that first kiss that was in Iwatobi and Samezuka jackets, that tasted of chlorine and soda and so Sousuke kisses his lips again in reassurance.
As Makoto gives and gives and gives to others but tonight, on the anniversary of that first press of lips, Sousuke will give and give and give. As Makoto deserves that.