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“Ken—“ Yu squirmed beneath him, upper half spread across their new kitchen counter. He was half-clad in an old hoodie bunched up just above his nipples, the fabric replaced by Nanami’s hand spread wide against the divot of his back. Nanami held him there, pinned against the marble as he thrust deep into the heat of his ass.
“Please, please, please.” Yu wouldn’t let him forget just how badly he wanted it, words struggling out past his gasps, choking on nothing. It made Nanami’s cock stir despite already being snug inside him. It was a senseless, insatiable need that drove him when they fucked like this, as if his cock was tugging the rest of his body along for the ride. It always grew impossibly hard and twitched and weeped until he was so deep in Yu that he could live there, making it impossible to tease or take his time.
Yu never seemed to mind. Never expressed any qualms with being taken and reduced to a hole for Nanami to fill. He seemed to look forward to the abruptness of it, the primordial aspect that separated it from their usual love-making, the kind that consisted of thoughts and feelings and the other things that proved them to be advanced life forms.
The force of Nanami’s next stroke was punishing, born of his full strength and hard enough to punch the air out of Yu’s lungs. It forced out a pointed little squeak just as Nanami’s balls slapped up against his ass, and then he stayed there, rocking against Yu, knowing exactly what spot to hit and how. All Yu could manage in response was a full-bodied shiver around his husband’s cock, a warning, a clench that Nanami savored. He clawed uselessly at the counter, the movement devoid of intention or focus as he drooled against it, his sense long fucked out of him. When he did finally fix his lips to move, the words that trickled out of him were pitiful and wet.
“S’close… K-Ken…”
But Nanami didn’t need Yu’s breathless pleading. His hips were already acting, movements predetermined by nature. He’d evolved to need Yu’s heat like he had evolved to breathe. After another telling tremble from his husband Nanami gathered his wrists and tugged him up. His cock stood neglected, bobbing and dripping over the counter, but neither went to touch it. Instead, Nanami tightened his grip and fucked faster and Yu became nothing but the sting of skin against skin, the repository for the stress, frustration, and cum that drained out of Nanami once he was spent.
Yu’s cum landed on the counter. The first mess made in their new home.
—
In bed with a stubborn erection, Nanami remembers the rest of it: They’d had a bit more paperwork to sign early that morning. Then, they’d gotten their keys, two sets plus one for emergencies. They’d tipped and thanked the movers. Yu had been beaming, wide-eyed in the threshold, and Nanami was a pent up mess.
They hadn’t had sex in weeks. Yu’s family had insisted that they stay with them during their transition, but that’d meant sharing a thin wall with Yu’s younger sister and cramming into a twin-sized bed. Alone time was scarce, with Yu’s sister bedridden, and the most they’d gotten away with was a few quiet blow jobs and mutual masturbation sessions.
They’d gotten carried away just once, toward the end of their stay. Nanami couldn’t resist Yu’s begging, and agreed to slip into him where they lie, pressed up against each other in bed.
It’d been fine at first. Nanami kept his face buried in Yu’s neck and went slow. But the closer they both got the more difficult it became to control the snap of his hips and muffle Yu’s moans.
Yu had never been good at being quiet, and forcing his face into the pillow or holding a hand over his mouth had only worked him up more. On top of that the bed seemed to creak with even the most careful movement. Nanami had ended up having to pull out and jerk off onto Yu’s thighs.
As punishment Yu was made to sleep like that: covered in Nanami’s cum and still hard, hands clamped in Nanami’s to keep him from touching himself.
The next morning Nanami cleaned him up with his tongue, challenging him to stay quiet as he lapped against the sensitive skin of Yu’s thighs, no begging or squirming or whining allowed. Yu had passed, just barely, and Nanami rewarded him by sliding a few fingers into him and massaging his prostate until it wept.
Nanami wraps a hand around his cock, gasping at how good it feels just to grab it. It’s funny when he thinks about it. At one point he’d been so spoiled that two weeks without his cock in Yu’s ass or the other way around was unbearable. Now he’d give anything to be pressed up against Yu in his too-small bed, holding a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.
The guilt builds up along with the pleasure as he starts to stroke himself, and instead of Yu’s heat his mind floods with the cool of his corpse, the stillness of dead eyes, rigor mortis.
It’s frightening. His cock hardens. He strokes faster.
He remembers one time not too long before Yu passed, when his insomnia was getting bad and he’d swallowed a few too many sleeping pills out of frustration.
—
“Ken?”
“Hm?” Nanami rubbed a heavy hand across his eyes. Despite the simplicity of the movement it was a struggle. His body was moving unreasonably slowly. He’d been half-passed out on the couch, the medicine working hard in his veins despite how resistant his brain was to shut off.
Cool fingers came to touch his cheek, and a lethargic blink revealed Yu peering down at him, his eyes dark with need.
“You look so cute like this.” Yu chuckled. Nanami could feel the waistband of his pajamas being tugged at. “… can I?”
He turned his head, nestling into Yu’s palm. From the corner of his eye he could make out Yu’s expression as it softened, his lips spreading into his usual smile. It made Nanami want to please him. “Mm.”
Yu leaned in to kiss him, but he was too far gone to reciprocate much or to keep himself from drooling when Yu pried him open. When a hand wrapped around his cock it still stiffened, and sleepy moans still rolled out of him as he lied there, limp and unable to escape his husband’s attention.
“Good…” Yu whispered in Nanami’s ear as his breathing deepened and his eyes rolled up in his head. “Good, Kento, just relax.”
On the inside he felt warm. It started in his chest and radiated out into the rest of him. All he could do to convey it was twitch his fingers until Yu got the hint and took his hand, allowing Nanami to give it as much of a squeeze as he could.
That seemed to please Yu too. At least, it earned Nanami his tongue, slick against the head of his cock, plush lips wrapped around it and encasing it in satisfying heat.
He squeezed Yu’s hand again, this time accompanying it with a weak but telling whimper. Yu responded with a hum of his own, taking Nanami deeper to suck him off in earnest until he finally came.
—
Nanami squeezes his hand tighter around his cock, thumbing the head. The memory makes him tremble with need and huff out a laugh.
The last time he’d been that sedated was just after Yu’s death. It was some barbiturate instead of sleeping pills, the kind they prescribe to weeping widows in old movies to keep them from killing themselves. It had the opposite effect on Nanami, who couldn’t stop thinking about what Yu would do to him this time if he was around to see. Would Yu have straddled him? Rode him while he couldn’t move? Used him without even taking the time to remove their clothes?
Nanami groans into the silence of his room at the thought of it. He’d peer up at his husband through helpless, glazed eyes. He’d function as nothing more than a toy.
And what of the other way around? What if he’d climbed on top of Yu’s body after they’d lifted it from the ocean and made use of it one last time?
The depiction is wrong: him, deep inside of Yu’s ass like he loves to be, fucking into him with a feral need. He’d hold Yu’s body up by his hips. Their knees would dig into the sand. The ocean behind them would drown out Yu’s silence and keep it from creeping in and scaring Nanami away.
He’d fall forward, needing to get deeper and closer to the body beneath him. He would press his knees into the back of Yu’s, his chest against Yu’s back, his face into the tepid skin of Yu’s neck and keep going, hips stuttering more and more as he lost his grip. He’d grit his teeth, use as must force as he could muster. Yu could take all of it: the loneliness, the misery, and the pain Nanami’s been harboring would seep into him through all their touching skin.
Nanami cums, full-bodied. His toes curl and his hips lock up and his face scrunches into a grimace as it rolls through him. He keeps stroking, his cum making a mess of his abdomen as he rides it out. Yu’s name stumbles out of him against his will, over and over again, worthless to the wind that carries it to go unheard.