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Breaking Point

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Another hot day in Singapore, and the heat is about to break. So is Makoto, standing in the shadow of Laurent's umbrella, waiting to watch a couple of thrill-seekers race planes around the city.

Working with Laurent again does that to him. Just like those days two years ago, Laurent shoves him up against his moral fiber with a charming, flirty grin, threatening to ravage his ethics and lay his values bare on the floor. Begging. And desperate for more.

He wants to hate Laurent. He really, really does, but he can't. Laurent is someone special, someone worth knowing, even though Makoto wants to be anywhere but at his side. Yet he ends up there anyway, despite trying to claw his way back to sanity. He can't help but be drawn in.

It's really annoying, considering Laurent flirts with him constantly, and Makoto knows he doesn't mean it.

Or maybe he does. He flirts with everyone, but Makoto suspects that Laurent is really just that affectionate. Makoto usually tells him to fuck off, which is an easy response. Laurent expects it these days. Makoto wonders what Laurent would do if he said yes to one of those seductive invitations to Laurent's bed.

Or the couch. Or a chair. Makoto isn't really picky, so long as he gets laid.

He smirks a little at the thought, glancing to the side at Laurent, who is watching the crowds with keen blue eyes. Abby might think he's a virgin, but Makoto has enough experience under his belt to know what he wants. It may not have been good experience, but Laurent might just make up for it...

He looks away before Laurent notices his attention.

Laurent is attractive, to be sure. Tall, good looking, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. The way he speaks, the way he moves, the whole of him -- it all hints at his capability. Makoto would be hard-pressed to find a more appealing partner.

He wanted it two years ago. He wanted it so badly that he followed Laurent into a massive scheme that went against every single one of his worn, crumbling morals. Two years in prison made him rethink it and try to make a better life for himself -- up until the moment that he heard Laurent Thierry's suave voice, welcoming him to a team he didn't even join.

Asshole.

"Edamame," Laurent calls, catching Makoto's attention. Makoto has long gotten used to the terrible nickname. "Want something to eat? Looks like the weather will delay the next race for a while."

Makoto rolls his eyes. Laurent has been dragging him out here every few days to watch their quarry, brothers who have more money than sense, in between Abby's races. Laurent likes to call them 'their little dates,' since Abby's either training or in her own races, and Cynthia is running PR for her as her manager. Makoto has yet to correct him.

He turns his gaze to the sky, which is gathering dark clouds. Another squall, typical for Singapore in this heat. He's getting tired of the humidity already. Abby already won her race, so there isn't any real reason to stay here, but he doesn't actually mind spending time with Laurent all that much. Usually.

"Fine, but you're buying," Makoto tells him, making Laurent smile.

"But of course."

They end up with prawn noodles, honey lime juice, and warm containers of muah chee, which is really just mochi with peanut powder if Makoto has anything to say about it. The rain still hasn't come down, so Makoto dutifully follows Laurent back to the race track, finding a little nook that will let them watch the race when it finally begins. They eat the noodles while they wait, until all that's left is a few prawn tails and sauce.

"That was good," Makoto sighs, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Laurent chuckles, then pauses as lightning flashes above them. Almost immediately, the sky opens up as thunder booms in response. Makoto curses and steps toward Laurent without thinking, bumping into him and nearly knocking their drinks over.

"Whoa, Edamame," Laurent says with a laugh, taking the cup and setting it on the railing in front of them, which is just wide enough to hold their boxes of muah chee and juice. Makoto gives him a dirty look and turns away, sighing as the rain comes down much harder than seconds before. His shoulder is soaked already, but stepping out from under the umbrella would be stupid at this point.

It's all because he let himself get rained on earlier while they were watching Abby's race. Laurent's flirtatious smile had annoyed him then, and he knows if he looks back and sees it again, it will annoy him now, too. Laurent is probably really smug about the whole thing.

He can feel Laurent behind him, a solid presence that never fails to make him aware of his own body. They aren't touching, yet the heat of him is enough. It makes Makoto think about his fantasies from earlier. If their 'date' was actually a date, they would end up in bed together.

Or the couch, or whatever. Makoto breathes in deeply and sighs though his nose, frustrated with himself. If he didn't let himself get so annoyed, maybe he could have gotten laid by now, and he wouldn't be so wound up.

"Seems this one is pretty severe," Laurent says, only his voice is much closer than Makoto expects. Right by his ear, close enough to make him shiver. Laurent reaches past him to pick up his juice, and his arm brushes against Makoto's waist.

He glances down. They might as well be embracing like this. He compares the size of Laurent's forearm to his own, swallowing without thinking, and has to pick up his own drink to finish it off, his throat suddenly dry.

He's such an idiot, lusting after this irritating man. He hopes the rain lets up soon, so he can escape and go back to daydreaming in misery.

"It's just a storm," Makoto mutters. Laurent huffs, and his warm breath hits Makoto's ear, making him shiver again.

This time Laurent notices. "Cold?"

"No," Makoto says shortly, setting his cup on the railing. He pops open the container of muah chee to distract himself, savoring the sweet, chewy treat for a few minutes.

Then Laurent steps forward, once, and brings his body flush against Makoto's back, his hand slipping down to rest on Makoto's hip.

Makoto stops chewing.

"I don't want your dessert to get wet," Laurent murmurs in his ear. His arm is definitely wrapped around Makoto's waist now. And he is definitely feeling Makoto up, his fingers drawing little circles over Makoto's damp shirt.

Asshole.

"It's fine," Makoto says, his throat dry again. He sets the container on the railing, now fully protected by Laurent's umbrella, and glances around them. Nobody is paying them any attention; they're in a secluded place, with no one around. Everyone else has been chased away by the storm.

Well, he did want to know what Laurent would do if he said yes...

He leans back into Laurent's chest. He feels more than hears Laurent's small inhalation.

"What's this? Finally giving into me?" Laurent purrs. Makoto can hear his smile, and it annoys him.

"I'm just standing here," Makoto tells him snidely, but he doesn't move away. He picks up a piece of his dessert and eats it, pouting and wondering if he has made a mistake. Laurent chuckles softly, but Makoto feels it against his back, that deep, low laughter. His face heats up.

"Just standing... right here, with me."

Makoto doesn't reply. His face is red now, surely. He's supposed to be the confidence guy, but one word from Laurent Thierry makes him weak in the knees. That's why he didn't want to come back to this life. But Laurent was never going to let him live freely on his own, and truthfully, Makoto loves this world, this game between them that never seems to end.

He leans his head back against Laurent's shoulder, twitching when lightning flashes again. This time, the thunder takes a little longer to follow, meaning the worst part of the storm is moving away. The rain should let up soon, since it rarely stays around for long.

Leaning against Laurent like this feels nice. Even with the heat and the humidity, his damp clothes have given him a bit of a chill, and Laurent's body is warm, making him feel good. He eats another piece, noticing that Laurent hasn't eaten any yet, but not willing to save him any. It serves him right, for being such a smug jerk.

Taking advantage of Makoto like this, using his evil wiles on Makoto's innocent body --

Oh. Makoto's eyes go wide when he realizes that he can feel one of Laurent's wiles right now. Laurent's cock -- the bane of Makoto's daydreams -- is nudging quite enthusiastically against his ass. In his pouting, he hadn't noticed until now, but he thinks Laurent has been hard for a while.

"Laurent!" he hisses, stiffening, and Laurent drops his face to press his lips to Makoto's neck. Makoto can feel him smile.

"I can't help it, my dear Edamame. Here you are, opening yourself up to me..."

"Not here! And not anymore, if you keep this up --"

His words falter in his throat when he realizes that Laurent's lips are touching him, and that Laurent is kissing him, mouth pressed to his neck with a hot, slick drag of his tongue. He lets out an involuntary moan at the sensation of Laurent sucking a little mark into his skin, just above his collar.

"Y-you ass..." The stutter is involuntary, too. "Someone will see!"

"The rain is too thick. Nobody's looking at us," Laurent murmurs soothingly, following the words with another kiss, this one lingering. "Let me have this."

What would he do if I said yes?

Makoto bites down on his lip, hard. He shouldn't. They're in public. The rain will lift soon, and the race will begin, and they will have to find Abby and Cynthia at some point...

But he wants.

"Yes," Makoto breathes, and Laurent stills against him, his fingers suddenly digging into Makoto's hip.

"Really?" Laurent asks, sounding as surprised as Makoto feels. In response he lifts his hips in a slow grind against Laurent's covered cock, taking the short gasp in victory.

A moment later, Laurent's big hand reaches up to press against his chest, gripping his shirt tightly, and his mouth lands on Makoto's neck again, sucking another mark into his skin. Everybody is going to see it and know what Makoto has been up to. He can't bring himself to care.

"You taste so good," Laurent murmurs, kissing up his neck. Makoto shudders and tilts his head away, giving Laurent more room. "The sweet taste of Edamame..."

Makoto can't help it; he snorts, covering his mouth as he laughs. He can feel Laurent's affront, and he looks over his shoulder, flashing a smirk.

"If you're gonna be doing me, then at least call me Makoto," he says, grinning, only for Laurent to kiss him.

His eyes fall closed, and he tilts his head up despite the awkward angle, kissing Laurent back. Laurent's mouth is soft and warm, seductive all on its own, and Makoto leans into it, tasting honey lime juice and sweet rice. He reaches up to grip Laurent's hand, pressed over his chest, and Laurent grinds into him, at the same time that his tongue slips into Makoto's mouth.

Makoto can't help a moan, as Laurent takes his fill, his tongue hot and slick against his own, slowly fucking his mouth in the same way Makoto wishes Laurent would do him. He presses more firmly back against Laurent's hardness, grinding hard, while knowing they will have to stop soon, that the rain will stop falling, and public decency laws will prevent them from doing it right here and now.

Except Laurent's hand moves his own to the side, wrapping Makoto's fingers around the handle of the umbrella, before leaving it in his grip and slipping down to press against Makoto's own cock, hard in his pants.

"Laurent, fuck!"

"That's the idea," Laurent says huskily, and Makoto is surprised enough to nearly drop the umbrella, swerving it to the side and momentarily drenching them both. He fixes it quickly, whipping his head back to stare at Laurent.

"You can't be serious. We're in public!"

Laurent kisses him again. Makoto allows it for two seconds, then breaks away, glaring. Laurent gives him an easy grin, but his eyes are molten, dark with lust that pierces Makoto's defenses like an arrow.

"You can't expect me to wait now that you've said yes. Let me touch you, Makoto," Laurent croons, beckoning like the devil he is. His fingers squeeze Makoto's dick, feeling him up in his pants, and Makoto's complaint catches on a gasp.

Laurent takes his mouth again, sliding his tongue in deep and kissing him until Makoto is panting, his legs spreading involuntarily. The rain certainly isn't letting up, but that's no reason to let Laurent do what he wants. Anyone could see them! Anyone could look over and see Laurent's hand groping him, Laurent's tongue leaving his knees weak, Laurent's cock grinding against his ass...

Fuck, he wants this, now.

"...yes."

"Sweet Makoto," Laurent murmurs, and Makoto's face flushes brilliantly. He can feel the heat from his own embarrassment. It's not fair how Laurent breaks him down so easily!

He breaks the kiss to catch his breath, turning his face away with a pout. Laurent doesn't seem to mind, as his fingers are busy unbuckling and zipping open Makoto's pants, loosening them enough for them to sag down. Makoto looks around in panic, but still, nobody is even near them. The rain is too thick; all the other people are clustered under their own umbrellas or faraway awnings, mere silhouettes in the humidity. If Makoto can't see them, then they can't see him getting fucked.

He can't help a gasp when Laurent's wandering fingers grasp his ass firmly, pulling his cheeks up a bit. He feels Laurent's heavy cock settle between his legs, his decency protected only by their underwear.

"Laurent, wait, we don't even have anything to..."

"Then you'll have to make some, won't you?"

"Eh?"

His question is answered a moment later, when Laurent scoops up a piece of muah chee and holds it to his lips. Makoto understands what he wants in a flash, and he closes his eyes briefly, his mouth falling open. He doesn't take the bait just yet.

"I don't want sticky sweets inside me," Makoto grumbles, and Laurent huffs a laugh, huskier than Makoto has ever heard from him. He feels Laurent's cock twitch against his ass.

"Then you'll just have to make sure it's nice and clean, hm?"

"...fine." Makoto licks his lips, brushing Laurent's fingers, before he opens his mouth and lets Laurent feed him the sweet treat.

The taste is sweet and heavy on his tongue. He swallows what he can, shuddering as Laurent's fingers push deeper into his mouth, and begins to suck, lathering the sweet invaders with his spit. He thinks that this flavor will always cause a visceral memory of this time: the taste of peanuts, his shirt sticking to his back, Laurent's cock grinding slowly into his ass in a promising mimicry of Makoto's most insidious daydreams.

While anyone could be watching.

He moans, and Laurent's breath hitches in his ear. Then the fingers are gone. Laurent leans Makoto forward against the railing, seconds before hot fingers slip under his underwear and rub against his entrance. Makoto gasps, grabbing onto the railing, the umbrella gripped tightly in his hands.

"Laurent, should we really..."

"I love it when you say my name, Makoto," Laurent croons, and the way he says Makoto, so soft compared to his usual drawl of Edamame, makes Makoto's knees go weak again. He bows his head, takes a deep breath, and spreads his legs more. Laurent chuckles again, but it sounds strained now. Good. Makoto likes having an effect on him.

"Good boy," Laurent whispers.

Makoto's cheeks go hot. He hides his face in his hands, holding his breath as slick fingers slide into him, slowly loosening him up. It should feel awkward, weird, but it just feels good, to have Laurent taking him apart like this. It might be just another conquest for Laurent; he might stop flirting, might stop inviting Makoto on these cons, but knowing that Laurent is hot and hard for him right now makes it worth it. That someone as attractive as Laurent might want skinny, boring little Edamura Makoto.

He loses track of time, as Laurent's fingers spread him apart, pushing in deep and opening him with expert movements. His own cock is trapped in his underwear, half pulled down, and he wants to reach down and touch himself, but he can barely hold on as it is. Keeping the umbrella steady is all he can handle.

After a while, it becomes too much, with Laurent rubbing against his prostate, firmly enough that Makoto's hips begin to tremble.

"Laurent, please..."

The whisper should be lost in the rain, but Laurent must hear it, because a moment later, his fingers slip out of Makoto's ass. He feels soft lips press against the nape of his neck.

"Spit, Makoto."

Makoto opens his eyes to find Laurent's hand in front of him. He does as ordered, and though the rain drowns out the sound, he knows that Laurent is slicking himself up, getting ready to fuck him.

Laurent's hand settles hot on his hip. The other guides his cock between Makoto's legs, pressing the wet head of his cock against Makoto's entrance. He moans and lifts his hips, feeling his entrance fluttering against the hot, hard slickness. God, he wants it, he wants it so much, and if he has to beg, he'll be furious.

Laurent only teases him for a moment, before slowly pressing inside Makoto, his big cock opening him up inch by inch. It's rough and exactly what Makoto wants. His breath catches in his throat, and he opens his mouth, pressing his tongue against his wrist in an effort to distract himself. Laurent is inside him. Laurent is fucking him, grinding into him in slow, easy circles, his big hands lifting Makoto's hips enough that the angle means --

"Ahh!"

"There," Laurent grunts, thrusting in again slowly, aiming for Makoto's prostate again. His cock is big, bigger than anything Makoto has taken, and he loves it, loves the weight of it between his legs, the way it burns inside him. He swallows convulsively, needing more.

But the rain will let up soon, and then everyone will see.

"Y-you have to be quick..."

"Hm, not what my lovers usually ask... but I'll make an exception today," Laurent says with a husky laugh, earning Makoto's ire for a moment. He doesn't want to hear about Laurent's other lovers, nameless people who don't have Laurent now, not like Makoto does. Then he feels smug, knowing that Laurent must be close already, since Makoto teased him for some time before letting him into his pants.

Makoto stands up carefully and leans back against Laurent's chest again, holding himself up on his toes so that he can sink down on Laurent's cock. He can't help his little wheezing moans, one hand gripping the umbrella while the other grabs Laurent's hand and guides it down into his loosened pants, wrapping around his cock.

Laurent groans in his ear. "You're so cute, Edamame..."

"Makoto," he whimpers in return, earning another laugh.

"Makoto, sweet Makoto, I've got you," Laurent murmurs, tightening his fingers around Makoto's cock and pumping him in time with his thrusts. Makoto sees stars, and he gasps, his hips faltering as Laurent's thrusts become harder.

It's all too much. He's so hot, the pleasure of Laurent fucking him rising higher, bringing him closer. They need to hurry. He needs to come, but their napkins are useless, and he doesn't want to come in his pants... and he has no idea where Laurent will come... fuck, they need to hurry, the rain is getting thinner...

He gasps as Laurent pushes deeper into him, grinding with urgent little thrusts that Makoto recognizes. Laurent is about to come, and Makoto isn't ready. "L-Laurent, not inside," he whimpers, his head falling back on Laurent's shoulder. "I'll... feel it..."

"Can't leave it anywhere else, darling," Laurent murmurs into his ear, his breath hitching. He wants to hear what Laurent sounds like when he's having an orgasm. He wants to give Laurent lots and lots of orgasms. "Besides, I like... mm, the idea of you walking around with part of me still inside you... ah, Makoto..."

The fantasy sends him over the edge. Makoto clenches around Laurent's cock as he cries out, gripping Laurent's wrist tightly as his body wracks and shudders, choking out a little gasp as he spends himself in Laurent's palm. A moment later, Laurent buries himself deep inside Makoto, filling him with slick, burning heat that Makoto can feel, making him moan weakly.

Fuck... now Makoto has to walk around with Laurent's come inside him...

He falls forward with gasping breaths, as Laurent grunts and slides out of him. He feels Laurent's slick come leaking a little down his thigh, before Laurent lets go of him and wipes Makoto with a handkerchief in his pocket. Then the rain suddenly dies down, and Makoto and Laurent are both scrambling to pull up their pants and tuck themselves away from the oblivious people drifting closer to them in anticipation of another race.

Makoto says nothing on the way back to the apartment. Laurent walks beside him, watching him, but Makoto doesn't look at him, his gaze fixed forward. He sends a text to Cynthia to find out where they are, then sighs in relief to know that she and Abby are somewhere in the city. At least the apartment is empty.

The elevator ride is completely silent, as is the walk down the hallway.

Once the door closes, though...

Laurent's back hits the wall with a soft thud, as Makoto presses their lips together, his hands gripping Laurent's shoulders. Laurent blinks in surprise, then kisses him back.

Despite Makoto's efforts, the kiss turns gentle, Laurent pressing increasingly devoted kisses against his lips, until Makoto is leaning into him, his arms around Laurent's neck. He barely notices when Laurent turns them around, taking Makoto's hands in his own and holding them against the wall, their bodies pressed together.

When they finally part, Makoto struggles to catch his breath. He looks up into Laurent's eyes, such a clear blue color that shouldn't be legal. Laurent is watching him, smiling with that familiar soft look, slightly smug, yet filled with a kind of wonder that Makoto doesn't understand. Wonder at him. It makes no sense.

"This doesn't change what we have to do," Makoto whispers, and Laurent's smile widens.

"Of course not."

"And it stays between us," he adds quickly. Laurent chuckles and leans in to kiss him again.

"I don't mind being your little secret."

"And don't call me Makoto unless --"

"Unless I'm making love to you, okay." Laurent seals the promise with one last kiss, then pulls away and spins Makoto around, pressing his chest to the wall. Makoto lets out a yelp of surprise, barely able to fight back when Laurent unzips his pants and drags them down quickly, making Makoto step out of them before pushing his legs apart.

He looks over his shoulder, and his face heats up to see Laurent kneeling behind him, his burning gaze fixed on Makoto's bare ass.

"Still full from me," Laurent murmurs, then leans in and drags his tongue over Makoto's sore, wet entrance, making him cry out and try to wriggle away, but Laurent holds him still with a strength that surprises him.

"Laurent!"

"Don't be cruel, Makoto. Let me have a taste..."

"Fuck," Makoto whines, his head falling forward as Laurent presses his mouth to Makoto's entrance. It should be awful, but it just feels good, and he can't help another moan as Laurent's tongue invades him.

It's even better than Laurent's fingers. He can feel himself getting hard, and he wants Laurent's cock again; he wants to see it in the light now, in the privacy of their apartment. Laurent's tongue is very talented, and Makoto loves to feel him like this, in a perverse imitation of their actions earlier.

It'd feel even better with Laurent's cock. Laurent's mouth is making him forget his soreness and his embarrassment. Makoto whines, which is all that he can manage to say right now, and it gets Laurent's attention.

"Hm?" Laurent pulls away, his voice huskier than usual. Makoto turns himself around, his knees trembling, and Laurent is quick to stand and catch him, leaning in for another kiss.

Makoto turns his face away. "Absolutely not," he breathes, earning a pout.

"Come on... Makoto," Laurent murmurs, teasing, his smile easy. Makoto twitches, then pulls away from the wall and grabs his pants, pulling Laurent with him through the apartment to their room.

He has never felt gladder that he has to share a bed with this man.

"Strip," Makoto orders, shutting the door firmly. He doesn't take his eyes off his partner, as Laurent smiles at him and begins to unbutton his polo shirt, revealing a muscular chest. Makoto has seen that chest before, many times, since Laurent is shameless when it comes to his body, but it's different now. After two years of denying himself, Makoto really wants to do everything he's been fantasizing about. He wants to touch every part of Laurent, to taste him, to have him.

He wants to give everything to Laurent, too. And damn if that doesn't terrify him.

After he peels off his own clothes, Makoto steps forward, reaching up to press his hands to Laurent's abs, feeling him.

Laurent catches his hands, drawing them up to press little kisses to Makoto's fingers. The gesture is oddly romantic, and Makoto's face heats up a little. "I'm surprised you're really giving in to me. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of being with you."

"No, I have an idea," Makoto says dryly, his breath hitching as Laurent smiles at him again. Laurent really means it, too. He's only been sending Makoto love letters for two years.

Every week in prison, like clockwork, Makoto would get a letter from Laurent. Silly poems, pleas for Makoto to come join him, alluring promises that Laurent could get him out of penitentiary tomorrow. Makoto would only reply to his letters once in a while, but that never seemed to deter Laurent. It certainly didn't stop him from planning to drag Makoto back into his schemes as soon as he got out of prison.

It certainly didn't stop Makoto from dreaming about him, those long two years.

Makoto escapes Laurent's grasp and reaches down to unbuckle his pants, pushing them down along with Laurent's boxers. Laurent's cock stands half-hard, slowly darkening as it thickens and fills with blood, and Makoto can't help licking his lips. He waits as Laurent steps out of the last of his clothes, then pushes him backwards to sit on the bed. Then he climbs on after Laurent, kneeling over his legs.

"You're so forward. Nothing like I imagined," Laurent tells him, sliding long fingers up Makoto's sides. Makoto can't stop his face from blushing.

"I'm not a virgin," he mutters. "Not some innocent teen for you to debauch."

"But you are innocent, and I do love debauching you..." Laurent's smile is sly, gently squeezing Makoto's ass and dragging his cheeks apart, making Makoto inhale softly as his wet hole is exposed. Then Laurent moves away, leaning back to reach into the table beside the bed and pulling out a bottle of lube.

Makoto rolls his eyes. "Why am I not surprised you have that --"

"Be thankful that I do," Laurent says with a smirk, squeezing some onto his fingers, then reaching between Makoto's legs and spreading it liberally over his entrance. Makoto's hands fly down to grip Laurent's shoulders, and his mouth falls open as Laurent's slick fingers slide inside him. This time, it's much easier. He is already loose from being fucked earlier, as well as eaten out... plus Laurent's come is still inside him...

"Makoto," he hears, and he looks down to find Laurent gazing at him. Makoto makes a questioning noise, and Laurent smiles. "Kiss me."

Kiss him? That mouth which has been on his ass, on his neck, saying his name?

"Fine," Makoto mutters, then catches Laurent's face in his hands and leans down to kiss him deeply. Laurent moans, surprising Makoto with how loud he is, and he realizes that Laurent must really enjoy kissing him. Makoto rather likes it, too.

It's almost too easy, to push Laurent down on the bed and take the lube from him. To squeeze it into his hands and roll the gel between his fingers, before wrapping his hand around Laurent's thick cock, slowly gliding the lube down. To stroke him a few times, feeling the weight of him in his palm, and know that Laurent is watching him, his gaze hot with lust and affection.

Makoto looks up and holds his gaze as he positions Laurent's cock at his entrance, sinking down slowly. He gets to see Laurent's eyes go wide with wonder, with something like love, with desire so strong that it makes Laurent's hands clench on his thighs, likely leaving bruises that Makoto will feel tomorrow. He is slow and careful, not letting Laurent control the pace, wanting to make sure he gets his pleasure out of this.

He only wants to see how long he can push Laurent until he breaks.

By Makoto's count, it's about three minutes of Makoto riding him slowly and carefully, slick and hot and trembling, whimpering Laurent's name -- until Laurent flips them over and thrusts into him so hard that Makoto sees stars again. He ends up on his back with his legs thrown over Laurent's shoulders, moaning as Laurent fucks into him.

This time, he welcomes it when Laurent comes inside him.

~*~

The four of them are walking through Singapore on their day off. Cynthia and Abby are walking ahead of them, and Laurent has disappeared for a moment. Makoto sips his juice slowly, thinking of how he's going to get Sam and Clark to trust him. Clark will be easy, with his easygoing nature, but Sam is as crooked as Makoto himself, and it'll be hard dealing with him...

"Edamame, want some?"

"Hm?" Makoto looks up to find Laurent standing with Cynthia and Abby. All three of them are staring at him, while Laurent holds out a box of muah chee. Makoto stares at it, his face slowly heating up. Laurent absolutely bought that on purpose, if the little smirk at the corner of his mouth is any indication, just to see how Makoto would react. Just to make him remember.

He can taste peanut on his tongue, can feel his shirt sticking to his back, can hear Laurent's voice in his ear...

That asshole. They're in public!

"Not at all!"