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Alive and all the worse for wear, Atsushi and Akutagawa found themselves stumbling into the darkness of their safehouse. Akutagawa, still hyper-aware as ever, scanned their surroundings before slamming the door shut with force.
The lock clicked into place, and only then did the two allow their shoulders to slump. Relief washed over them in waves; Atsushi chose to sink to his knees where he stood, arms sprawled out on the dusty wooden floorboards. Akutagawa stayed standing, heart practically in his throat as he slowly tried to even out his breathing.
Akutagawa met Atsushi’s eye, and that seemed to tether him back to the ground.
This mission had been one of the more challenging ones in recent memory, even with the unpredictability of their respective lines of work. A man with the ability to trap people within their worst memories had somehow escaped a top-security prison, and was wreaking havoc across Yokohama. The mass-hysteria that ensued had set the city ablaze, and when Dazai instructed them to capture the mysterious user, he had that look in his eye. That chilling, mask-off, dead serious look.
Atsushi had been terrified. Very few of his memories were kind, among those that were even accessible to him. It was a game of Russian Roulette, one that Atsushi could only lose.
He and Akutagawa accepted the mission, because of course they did. Akutagawa showed no hesitation outwardly, but Atsushi could sense that he was scared, too. He would never admit it, but that involuntary tensing of the shoulders always gave him away.
And terrifying it was. Whatever horrors the two of them had expected were presented to them tenfold. Neither were going to sleep that night. Neither of them could think about sleep.
“Atsushi.”
The tiger looked up. “Yeah?”
Akutagawa’s gaze was imperceptible. He cleared his throat. “You did well today.”
Atsushi’s bloodshot eyes widened. Something behind them stung. “Don’t say that to me,” he whispered. “Please.”
“Why?”
Atsushi shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “I can’t.”
Akutagawa didn’t quite know what he meant, but he could guess. Slowly and carefully, he walked closer to Atsushi before kneeling beside him on the dusty floorboards. They creaked with a pained noise. Atsushi weakly turned his head to face him, and for a long moment, the only sound between them was their breathing.
“Atsushi,” Akutagawa tried again.
Yellow and violet mixed together as tears sprung to Atsushi’s eyes. “I can’t,” he repeated, seemingly unable to say anything else.
Akutagawa shushed him, reaching forward in a split second decision to take one of Atsushi’s hands between his own. They were unreasonably cold; Akutagawa hardly ever found himself to be the warmer of the two.
Touch between them wasn’t new, not by any means. Barely-there touches to the smalls of backs had turned into hands on cheeks, hands intertwined, hands gripping at hair. It was familiar, but never something either of them expected. Akutagawa’s soft touches were always strange and unexpected, albeit welcome.
Atsushi squeezed his fingers with a grip so tight it threatened to break his bones. What Atsushi gave in return wasn’t gentle by any means, but Akutagawa didn’t try to wrestle free. His pupils flicked back and forth frantically, while the pain reminded Akutagawa he was real.
Neither of them said anything as Akutagawa shifted to sit more comfortably, joining Atsushi to stare at the ceiling. As if it had a mind of its own, Akutagawa’s thumb moved back and forth across the back of Atsushi’s palm. Smooth. Gentler than Akutagawa touched anything else.
He isn’t sure how much time has passed before Atsushi willed himself to speak. “Sometimes it's hard to believe that I’ll ever fully escape it.”
“What happened to you?”
“Yeah. Like, any of it, any at all. You can call me a fool again. I know it’s stupid.”
Akutagawa contemplated his words for a moment. Not long ago, “fool” would have been Akutagawa’s go-to word for the man crumpled on the floor beside him. It still often was. The memories that had ripped through Akutagawa’s brain like a bullet that same night, though, would be quick to call him a hypocrite. He was barely holding on himself.
“I don’t lie to you, Atsushi,” Akutagawa said. “Though you’re often foolish, this isn’t one of those times. You have seen hell.” He met Atsushi’s gaze. “We both have.”
“What did you see?”
Akutagawa grimaced. “Not Dazai-san.”
“Then what?”
“Some old friends.” Akutagawa didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. His expression was as controlled as he could muster, but that was nothing to Atsushi.
Atsushi nodded solemnly, like he already knew the answer. “Is there–”
“No. I can take care of myself just fine.” It was quick, an automatic response. Atsushi saw it clearly.
“You just finished saying you don't lie to me, Akutagawa. Don't start now.”
Akutagawa went quiet.
“You don't have to talk about it,” he added.
Akutagawa stayed silent, but he tensed his shoulders all at once before letting go, practically sinking into the floor. He let out a shuddering breath.
Atsushi felt the muscles in Akutagawa’s hand relax minutely. What he felt towards Akutagawa wasn’t pity, nor was it disgust. Terrified as he was about almost everything, Atsushi never ran from Akutagawa. For some reason.
Atsushi adjusted the grip so his fingers were interlocked with Akutagawa’s, giving his hand a squeeze. He was content; the truth was in the silence.
They were both sitting upright, across from each other when Atsushi chuckled dryly. “I feel disgusting. Like I haven't showered in weeks.”
“You should bathe. I will not sleep next to you if you’re covered in filth.”
“Says you. You look worse than me.”
“I do not.” Akutagawa huffed and crossed his arms. How childish.
“You do.”
They both made it to the bathroom, despite their bickering. It was small, dimly lit, and windowless, just like the rest of the place. Atsushi got undressed first, fidgeting with the temperature until steam filled the room, the way they both liked it. The growing humidity relaxed their shoulders and creeped into their pores.
Akutagawa got undressed slowly, carefully, methodically. His change of clothes was laid out by the sink in a perfectly neat pile– sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. Atsushi’s fingers brushed the material. Soft to the touch, but plenty durable.
As soon as he was fully bare, Akutagawa’s thin arms curled around his midsection, shoulders hunched over. “Is there something on my face?” he asked rhetorically, noticing Atsushi’s staring. “Get in, already.”
“Uh– right,” Atsushi said dumbly, doing as he was told.
As soon as he stepped into the stream of hot water, Atsushi let out a breath from deep in his lungs. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. A curtain rustled, followed by two light steps forward and two hands placed firmly on Atsushi’s shoulders for balance. When he exhaled to match, Akutagawa’s chest rattled.
Sweat, blood, and dirt turned the clear water a murky brown. It ran in beads down their skin, dripped by their feet, and disappeared down the drain. Watching it was strangely cathartic for Atsushi, and when he saw his partner’s eyes cast downward as well, he wondered if it was the same for him.
He didn’t need the excuse of keeping his balance to continue holding onto Atsushi’s shoulders. They were far past excuses in their relationship now. He didn’t steal glances anymore, he took them.
Atsushi took, too. Slowly, he encircled Akutagawa with his arms, drawing him close. Akutagawa’s hands found their way around his waist, nose pressed into Atsushi’s temple. They took, and they held what they took gently.
If he let himself drift away for too long, the old scars across his stomach started to burn again. So he held onto Akutagawa like a tether under the stream of the water. He hadn’t told him what he saw, because he could tell that Akutagawa already knew. For that he was grateful; he would not be able to muster the words otherwise.
He ran his hands up and down Akutagawa’s back, simply feeling him. Solid, there. Relief that had been buried under shock surfaced, and he pressed it into the skin of Akutagawa’s neck with a kiss.
Akutagawa kissed him back on the side of his head, a brush of lips. They spoke through gentle touches, almost like they were reminding each other, reminding themselves , that hands were capable of bringing comfort.
Atsushi didn’t realize it at first when his hands and forearms transformed, like they did in battle. He let out a small, surprised noise when he realized, choking out an apology and trying to will them to retreat.
“No,” Akutagawa said harshly, gripping him tighter. “Keep them.”
The fur was drenched by the stream of water, and each of his long, sharp claws glistened in the dim light. Large arms encircled Akutagawa, hands managing to cover almost the entire expanse of his back.
This was no battle. Those claws were always bared and sharp enough to cut through the fabric of abilities, but the paws they were attached to were warm, and they held Akutagawa protectively. They held Akutagawa like he could disappear at any moment.
Atsushi didn’t know how to regain the breath that had been punched out of him when he realized that Akutagawa let him do this while he was utterly naked, devoid of any protection.
I trust you , said Akutagawa’s arms. I trust you , said the body that pressed against his.
The water had begun to run almost clear.
When they pulled back to look at each other, Akutagawa couldn’t tell if it was just the water or if Atsushi had started crying. He didn’t ask.
“We should actually get washed up,” Atsushi said through a breathy laugh.
Akutagawa nodded, reaching over to grab the bar of soap. “Turn around,” he said.
Atsushi did. His back was soon met with the smooth bar, accompanied by Akutagawa’s hands, delicate but firm. As gently as he could muster, he rubbed soap into the skin, scrubbing away anything the water hadn’t already taken care of. Akutagawa didn’t mention it when goosebumps tickled his skin at the sensation. His fingers wandered from there, following the divots of the old scars littered across the expanse he was so willingly giving over to Akutagawa. Atsushi breathed in and out slowly, and Akutagawa didn’t question him about a single one.
A lot of the scars on Akutagawa’s back were newer, redder, angrier. The years of neglect to his wounds were obvious, as was the slight warp in his spine that Atsushi followed with his hands. Soapy fingers dipped into vertebrae, into the space just under his shoulder blades, treading carefully over some of the more painful looking scars. Akutagawa’s shoulders tensed with each movement, as if Atsushi would snap and hit him. They had touched countless times before this, but the tension wired in his muscles had never relented. Atsushi took note of it, becoming all the more conscious of every move he made. The way he washed Akutagawa was careful, but it wasn’t fearful, wasn’t afraid of breaking him like glass.
Akutagawa and Atsushi were strong, and strong people deserve to be held.
By the time they decided to leave the shower and get into soft night clothes, the water had begun to grow cold. They dried off and made for the bedroom, being sure to close and lock the door.
Though there were two full beds, both Atsushi and Akutagawa knew that only one would be used that night. Atsushi clicked on a dim bedside light, crawled into one, and stared up at the short ceiling.
His mind was wandering, and though he was exhausted and physically laying down, that didn't mean sleep would grant him solace anytime soon.
Akutagawa quietly got into bed beside Atsushi, shuffling beneath the covers.
“I presume you’re not going to sleep anytime soon?”
Atsushi shook his head. “No way. I’ll be lucky if I get two hours at this point.” He turned to face Akutagawa. “You?”
“You forget that I hardly sleep to begin with, Atsushi,” he replied, though his tone lacked any accusatory bite.
A few moments passed before Akutagawa awkwardly cleared his throat. “You’re quite far away.”
“Is that your way of asking me to come closer?”
“Shut up.”
Atsushi snorted a little, before scooting his body over and taking Akutagawa into his arms. They laid chest to chest, faces only separated by a few centimeters. A hand came up from Akutagawa’s hip to his hair, tangling in the slightly damp locks, thumb running along the nape of his neck. Akutagawa let out a sigh, bones relaxing minutely.
Had either endured this alone, the shreds of safety they felt in that moment would be entirely alien. Safety wouldn’t exist in their periphery, in the small space they’ve created for themselves in this dingy room.
They could not guarantee that everything would not burn down around them at any moment. They wouldn’t bet any amount of money on it, not in a world that had tried to bury them before they could rise from the dirt. This room, though. This room contained Atsushi and Akutagawa, and they scraped up the remnants of safety into dirty palms and held it between themselves.
It was not much. Nothing spectacular or even significant happened when Akutagawa shut Atsushi up himself, chapped lips pressed to chapped lips, silently iterating all the delicate, dangerous feelings that he barely knew he was capable of.
Atsushi kissed back, of course. It was soft at first, tentative, a question. Once they both realized it was welcome, the initial nervousness wearing off, it deepened. It was slow. It was lingering. There was no rush.
Neither were well-practiced with this in the slightest. They were each other’s first, and they had to learn each other’s bodies here just as they had in battle. Atsushi’s chest felt like it was on fire as he pulled Akutagawa close, locking their lips and breathing deeply through his nose. They both smelled like hotel room soap and shampoo, and by scent alone they were indistinguishable. Atsushi’s hands shook as he twisted them into the back of Akutagawa’s sleep shirt, tongue breaching the space between his teeth and daring to explore.
The kisses weren’t hurried as they often were, in chance encounters in alleyways or secluded corners or warehouses; those places never seemed to give them enough time with each other. Nobody would be seeing them until the sun rose again. Despite the piercing reminders of the broken earth they had emerged from, they were given this one kindness in recompense.
Atsushi broke away, taking a good look at Akutagawa’s face. His eye bags were more prominent than they usually were. His cheeks were flushed, lightly dusted with pink, lips swollen and kissed red. He was devastatingly beautiful, and Atsushi couldn’t say that to his face without risking one of his limbs, so he conveyed it with his hands instead. He sat upright on his knees, hovering over Akutagawa as he took his face in his hands, brushing away stray hairs. He whispered something before diving down again, stealing kisses to his lips, his jaw, his throat.
Akutagawa shuddered, breath hitching as he allowed himself to sink into the sensation. A hand came up to fist in Atsushi’s hair, ensuring he stayed where he was as a leg swung over Akutagawa’s own. Atsushi straddled him, encasing him in warmth.
Though there were no windows in this dreary room and the lightbulb threatened to flicker out at any moment, Atsushi was bright enough that it didn’t matter.
“You’ve grown warmer,” Akutagawa drawled, voice thick. “You’re like a furnace.”
Atsushi smiled a little. “Is that a good thing?”
Akutagawa’s arms tightened around his frame. “It isn’t entirely unpleasant.”
Atsushi’s smile widened, teasingly. Akutagawa could never just spit it out. Not even now. It was always actions for him, with this kind of thing. He hauled Atsushi downwards so they were chest to chest, placing long, deliberate, almost forceful kisses to Atsushi’s jawline. He migrated from there, kissing under his ear, down the column of his throat, and into the dip of his collarbone.
Atsushi squeezed his eyes shut, taking in the sensation of being touched like this. Akutagawa of all people was implanting memories of softness in his mindscape, something Atsushi would have gawked at in disbelief a year and a half ago.
Oh, how things change.
Experimentally, Atsushi rolled his hips downwards, swallowing the low groan that came from his partner’s mouth. “Is this okay with you?” he whispered, breathless.
“Yes.” His response was immediate.
Atsushi looked Akutagawa in the eyes as repeated the motion, breath caught in his throat. He was slow and measured as he did it again, and again, and again.
The only sounds in the room were their quickening breaths and the light shifting of fabric against fabric. Atsushi could feel Akutagawa harden beneath him, could feel the blood in his own body run south.
“I fail to under–” Akutagawa started, interrupting himself with a sharp intake of breath. “I fail to understand why you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like…”
Like you love me.
“Forget about it.” Akutagawa’s face reddened, breaking eye contact. He grabbed the hem of Atsushi’s shirt. “Take this off.”
Demanding, as always. Atsushi sat up in Akutagawa’s lap, shimmying his shirt up and over his head.
And of course, Akutagawa had just seen this. He had just held Atsushi to his chest as they washed together; had felt every divot and imperfection carved into his skin. But looking up at him now— it was like his mind reset itself. Suddenly, he was grabbing at the skin of Atsushi’s back, pulling himself up to eye level and following his lead. Another shirt joined Atsushi’s on the ground by their bed, and their lips collided again.
Akutagawa’s neck craned back, exposing his jugular while trying to still the shaking of his hands. Atsushi’s legs wrapped around his middle as he took what he wanted, leaving deep red marks in his wake. They would be thoroughly hidden from view a day from now, tucked under collarbones, for their eyes only. A reminder.
They were both fully hard as Atsushi rolled his hips down into Akutagawa’s lap. He moved slowly, with intention, and Akutagawa had to stop his hips from bucking into the feeling.
A whisper. “Ryuunosuke.”
“Mm.”
“Lay down.”
Akutagawa let himself fall backwards onto the pillows, and Atsushi was quick to cage him in. Running a hand down the skin of his chest, Atsushi took in the sight. He was too beautiful for his own good. A growing hunger boiled low in Atsushi’s stomach, a longing, a need to touch. He trailed his fingers down, looping them in the waistband of Akutagawa’s sweatpants. “Off.”
He meant to sound assertive, but his tone was a lot closer to awestruck . Akutagawa would never understand how he could garner this reaction, but he said nothing about it.
Akutagawa undid the waistband, yanking his pants down and kicking them away from his ankles. And if Atsushi was looking before, it was nothing compared to now.
He often descended upon Akutagawa like he was prey, but he was filled with the overwhelming urge to make this last as long as possible. A hand smoothed over one of Akutagawa’s nipples as his kisses descended– beginning at the chest and going lower, lower, lower. A hand palmed at his clothed cock, running over the wet spot that began to form through his boxers.
When Atsushi dipped below the fabric and took Akutagawa into his hand, Akutagawa’s fingers tightened around the blanket they were fisted in, heart pounding. He couldn’t suppress the noise that left his mouth.
Atsushi watched Akutagawa try and fail to control his face, unused to the potential of another to show him care. Even like this. Especially like this. Atsushi worked his hand from the base to the tip, fingers growing wet with precum as he ran a thumb over the head. Smoothing his free hand over the fabric of his boxers, he met Akutagawa’s eyes. “Can I…”
“Take them off, you fiend.”
Akutagawa took a deep breath upon being fully bare, and Atsushi ran his hand up and down his thigh; a soothing motion. Akutagawa had every reason not to, every option to back out, and here he was, giving himself over, trusting that Atsushi would love him with gentle hands. If Atsushi was a fool, Akutagawa was even more so.
Atsushi continued the motions, fist tightening slightly with each slow pull. He knew just what Akutagawa liked, what made him cry out despite himself, and he felt his own cock swell with need. He unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants down and palming at his erection.
“Hurry up.” Akutagawa was losing his composure. “Want to– want you–” He didn’t finish his sentence. He bucked his hips up into Atsushi’s fist, chasing something .
“What do you want? Tell me.”
“Do you have to be so– ah– so difficult? You know .”
“No, I don’t.”
Akutagawa’s face somehow grew even redder with the embarrassing realization that he would have to tell Atsushi exactly what he wanted him to do, despite their already compromising position. Shame boiled in his gut, fighting with arousal.
Atsushi’s teasing tone went away. “You’re safe, Ryuunosuke.”
Akutagawa met his eyes, finally, half-lidded and filled with an inexplicable emotion. He wanted to chastise Atsushi; who let him say shit like that? When his mouth opened, however, only a shaky breath escaped.
“Tell me,” Atsushi guided, sweaty forehead pressed to Akutagawa’s, fingers stilled around his shaft.
“I want you,” Akutagawa whispered back, words coming from his chest. “Inside.”
Atsushi was filled with warmth. He kissed Akutagawa with vigor, gentle yet intense, tongues gliding against seams of lips. He stroked Akutagawa a few more times before letting go, reaching for his backpack on the side of the bed and fumbling through the pockets, resurfacing with a small bottle.
Akutagawa covered his face with a hand. “You are absurd.”
Atsushi chuckled, uncapping the lid. “Maybe.” He emptied some of the liquid into his palm, working it through his fingers to warm it up. His free hand came up to spread apart Akutagawa’s thighs. “Prop yourself up.”
Akutagawa grabbed a pillow, hands almost failing to properly grip it as he lifted his hips and positioned it underneath for leverage. His stomach rose and fell with each deep breath he took, fingers already white-knuckled and fisted into the sheets in anticipation.
“Good,” Atsushi praised through a whisper, mouth dry. He hovered over Akutagawa’s body, fingers gently reaching beneath his balls, exploring, brushing slowly across his perineum before slipping backwards and finding his rim. Atsushi was dragging this out on purpose, and if he didn’t feel tears threatening to push at the backs of his eyes, Akutagawa might have tried to speed it up.
There were no words, though, because all the air left Akutagawa’s lungs as soon as Atsushi spoke. Desperation was nothing compared to this other feeling blooming in his chest. He’d felt it upon dragging his partner back to consciousness earlier on the battlefield, had felt it when they held each other close in the shower, and now– and now.
Slick fingers circled the tight muscle, working to relax him before moving any further. Every action was deliberate, careful. Atsushi planted a kiss on Akutagawa’s cheek, opening his mouth once he reached his jaw and his neck. Akutagawa arched his back beautifully as Atsushi took the opportunity to breach him with one finger, sighing at the warmth that surrounded him. Akutagawa huffed out short breaths, body adjusting to the intrusion.
“Okay?” Atsushi asked, gently moving a strand of hair from his face. He wanted to see him. Akutagawa nodded, face beet red.
Atsushi hummed in contentment, sinking his finger further inside, so slowly. Though they had done this before, Akutagawa was in no way experienced with this. His body would have to be coaxed all the way into relaxation before they could proceed, and Atsushi was happy to oblige, though his own cock strained for relief in his boxers.
After a few minutes of getting used to the feeling of Atsushi languidly moving in and out, a second finger teased his entrance. Akutagawa tensed for a second, and Atsushi stilled until he heard a strangled “please” escape his lips. “Don’t stop.”
“Please” was an unfamiliar word to hear coming from Akutagawa’s mouth, but Atsushi craved it and committed it to memory every time he was lucky enough to hear it.
A second finger filled Akutagawa, just as slow as the first, as Atsushi’s other hand worked to spread his cheeks apart. He looked beautiful with his eyes half lidded and peering between spread legs, meeting Atsushi’s despite the mortification of being seen by another like this. His hole was wrecked already, lube dripping and staining the cheap pillowcase under his hips. All of him flushed so red.
He was so alive, so human. They both were.
Neither of them knew how much time had passed before Atsushi was three knuckles deep inside his partner, Akutagawa failing to restrain himself from crying out when Atsushi brushed over his most sensitive spots. He couldn’t help but writhe in Atsushi’s grasp, desperately trying to fuck himself back on the thick fingers as they moved, working him open so well.
“God, Akutagawa,” Atsushi whispered, trying to steady his own breathing. He wanted to last for him, to give him what they both wanted so badly. Those whines, though, the sweat beading on his chest, the way he threw his head back in pleasure when Atsushi moved just right– he wasn’t even inside of him yet, and already struggling to hold onto whatever composure he still had left in his body.
“Atsushi,” Akutagawa gasped. “Atsushi, Atsushi .”
“What is it, Ryuu?”
“I want you. Now.” Blunt fingers dug into soft shoulders, tears making themselves known at the sides of Akutagawa’s eyes.
When Atsushi’s digits slipped from Akutagawa’s hole, the man below him made a sound that threatened to break him to pieces. He clenched around nothing, wanting, longing, needing . Atsushi sat back on his knees, just as breathless, admiring the mess that he’d made of Akutagawa.
“Stop staring,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll kill you.”
“I bet you will,” Atsushi smirked, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. Akutagawa took a breath– he was considerably larger than three fingers. He knew this information, yet still was somehow surprised every time. He watched with hungry eyes as Atsushi emptied more lube onto his fingers, squeezing the base with one hand and slicking himself up with the other. Akutagawa remembered just then that Atsushi had barely touched himself this entire time, practically driving himself mad. His own cock twitched at the sound of Atsushi’s low moans.
And finally, finally, a warm body was enveloping him. Lips met, sloppy and uncoordinated, as Atsushi lined himself up with Akutagawa’s entrance.
“Can I?” Atsushi whispered between heated kisses. Sweat already clung to both of their bodies.
Akutagawa canted his hips upwards, knees close to his chest. Were it not for the silence of the rest of the room, his voice may have been too quiet to hear. “Please.”
There it was again.
Slowly, he pushed into Akutagawa’s waiting body. Even with all the lube and the prep, both knew it would be a lot to take at once; Akutagawa was so tight that Atsushi’s vision became fuzzy at the edges. It was so much. All of it was so much.
With each inch that he took, Akutagawa sank further into the mattress, boneless with it, mouth agape and panting. He fumbled with his hands, trying to grasp onto Atsushi’s arms, or the skin of his back, or anything . Atsushi’s eyes screwed shut in pleasure, focusing all of his energy into the connection between their bodies. He bared his teeth and let his hot tongue explore Akutagawa’s neck, but didn’t dare hurt him. He wouldn’t think of it.
“Atsushi.”
He would never get tired of hearing his name from Akutagawa. He spoke every syllable with reverence, like his name was worth the breath he used to expel it. He never said it without purpose.
“I have you.” Atsushi reassured, smoothing a hand down his side. He managed to open his eyes. “I have you.”
Akutagawa never let himself cry. He also never let himself known by other people, let himself be stripped bare in any sense of the word. Though as the tears finally began to run down his cheeks, it was clear that the limits of never were being pushed.
Atsushi bottomed out, panting heavily, and the noise Akutagawa made in response was something caught between a moan and a sob. If he had the mind, he would surely be embarrassed, but the sound of his heart pounding in his chest overrode everything.
Noticing the tears immediately, Atsushi stilled and cupped one of his cheeks. “Wait, hey, are– are you okay? We can stop.”
Akutagawa shook his head vigorously; stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. He met Atsushi’s eyes, took him in, joined him in every sense of the word. He was essentially folded in half, totally surrounded, in a position so compromising– and it crashed down on him that he felt safe . How insane. How utterly insane. How illogical, how foolish, how–
“Stay.” Akutagawa choked out, punctuating his words with legs wrapped around Atsushi’s middle.
Something surged through Atsushi, but he didn’t move. He remained in Akutagawa’s tight heat, despite the flame raging low in his stomach, screaming for him to chase his own high. He was still, perfectly still, save for the thumb that never left Akutagawa’s cheek. Atsushi’s own vision began to grow hazy and wet. Atsushi cried a lot, but never did he think it would happen here, like this.
It was humiliating. Together, they basked in humiliation.
And when Atsushi finally did start to move, pulling back and thrusting in slow and deep, Akutagawa’s hands fisted in the back of Atsushi’s hair, gripping on tight. The sweat on his hands mixed with the sweat on Atsushi’s nape. Atsushi whined softly, dipping lower and allowing the skin of his stomach to brush against Akutagawa’s cock.
“Ah, fuck , Atsushi.” The words spilled from Akutagawa’s mouth, uncontrollable.
Atsushi thrust in again, slow and deep just as before. And then again, and again, and again.
“Good. You’re so good, you’re so good,” Atsushi praised, cutting himself off with a gasp when Akutagawa spread his legs wider, letting Atsushi in deeper. He couldn’t hide the way his body soaked up praise, the way he swallowed it with every pore. He couldn’t hide the pathetic exhale that left his mouth.
With every thrust, Atsushi opened him up further, rediscovering the angles and movements that made Akutagawa writhe against him. They spoke through fragmented words and shifting bodies, but managed to get the point across just fine.
As the sensation fully became natural, as Akutagawa forgot what it was like to not be connected in this way with Atsushi, he began to meet Atsushi’s thrusts with his own hips, seeking more of him. Akutagawa surrounded him so fully; it felt like he was encased, and for a split second, Atsushi felt a glimmer of something he didn’t know he longed for.
Their movements gradually became more frantic, more hurried. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, made it feel alive for the first time since they arrived at this godforsaken place.
Leave it to Atsushi and Akutagawa to make dead things live again.
A deep thrust had Akutagawa startled out of any coherent thoughts, as Atsushi hit something inside of him that made him throw his head back and scream .
Atsushi took the expanse of skin at his neck as an invitation, tongue hot and flat against Akutagawa’s jugular, feeling the surge of blood just underneath. He also chose that exact moment to grasp Akutagawa’s cock, working him in slow pulls in time to his thrusts.
God, he wasn’t going to last like this. Neither of them were. It was so much.
“Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi breathed. “Ryuunosuke, I– I’m so– Please, can I–”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
Atsushi grabbed Akutagawa's thighs, all inhibitions gone. His hips slammed forward; the combination of Akutagawa’s strangled noises and the heat of his body only spurred him onwards. It wasn’t long before he fucked into him deep one last time, hips stuttering, thrusts faltering, as he let his orgasm wash over him in waves. Akutagawa clenched so beautifully around him as he was filled, working Atsushi through his high while clearly so close himself. With the half of a mind he had left, Atsushi pumped Akutagawa’s cock with fervor, twisting his wrist the way he knew Akutagawa liked it, grinding their hips together and pushing himself as deep as he could go.
Akutagawa snapped.
Atsushi’s name was the only thing on his tongue as he pitched forward, back taut, emptying across Atsushi’s stomach, his own stomach, Atsushi’s hand. Atsushi stroked him through it, his other hand fighting through the post-orgasm fog to shakily smooth up and down his back.
Atsushi gently pulled out, and then they both collapsed together, a complete mess of limbs. Just as before, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Just as before, they were surrounded by each other, covered in each other.
As soon as Akutagawa’s senses caught up with him, he grabbed a blanket, throwing it over his bare body, curled into Atsushi’s side. Atsushi kissed him on the head, holding him close. Akutagawa’s hand smoothed across Atsushi’s chest soothingly, if anything Akutagawa did could be called soothing.
I have you , Akutagawa remembered hearing. Something in his ribcage ached.
Neither of them were going to sleep that night, even with the relaxation sex had given them. Atsushi eventually got up, retrieving a towel from the bathroom to clean their bodies with. He took care of Akutagawa’s body, and Akutagawa took care of Atsushi’s, moving gently over the parts that still pulsed with sensitivity.
Akutagawa’s clothes went back on, though Atsushi stayed bare. They laid down together, resting, eyes sometimes closed, but breathing never completely slowed down. A light stayed on all night. Neither of them had to ask for it to stay on.
A house full of ghosts, this place was. Houses full of ghosts, they were too.
Their togetherness didn’t stop the fears from creeping in through the cracks in the door, but at least Atsushi wasn’t alone. He was far from it, so far from it. When he clung a little too tightly onto the fleece of Akutagawa’s sleep shirt, or when he started seeing shadows move in strange ways on the walls again, he wasn’t by himself.
And when Akutagawa clenched his teeth too hard, stiffening, waiting for that shoe to come crashing down, he wasn’t by himself.
They lay that way, the two of them, until the only evidence of the night was the shadows under their eyes.