Work Text:
Mahito isn’t exactly sure where he is.
The whole thing started at Hanami’s place- that much he’s aware of. He recalls reluctantly doing shrooms with them before heading out to the Christmas party.
He wasn’t supposed to get so wild. He’d broken a promise to the person who had made him sad enough to seek out such a thrill.
It was at their usual haunt frequented by these celebrations. A dilapidated, dingy warehouse downtown that smells of sulphur and dust. At night it always thrums with booming music, roof and walls shaking like they may cave in on the dancing, drunk, drugged-up crowd.
He remembers dancing himself, twirling amongst the sweaty bodies with a pair of reindeer ears on his head. He remembers losing them when some guy yanked them off his head as an attempt to flirt. He remembers helping Choso kick the guy’s face in, being pulled off by Jogo and relegated to the corner.
White lines along the crusty bar table. He lifts his hand to his nose and wipes, coming away with dried blood and residue. Definitely a memory and not his imagination.
That’s where things start to blur. Cheers. Party. Happy. He was so sad for some reason too.
A kaleidoscope of images twists painfully in his mind, enough to make him groan and want to vomit.
There was a fight at some point. Some more chaos and dancing. Hanami attempted to feed him, Dagon made him drink and Haruta tried to give him pills. He remembers pushing them away, distracted with whatever he was doing on his phone.
Then things become even darker. Someone who shouldn’t be touching him, following him when he was alone. His fist hurts.
He’s cold. So, so cold.
It’s then he realises his arms are bare. He had lost his pretty purple jacket at some point.
There is snow around him and the ground is hard. An alley. Is it an alley? Mismatched eyes shift around trying to gain any sort of clarity on his situation.
He attempts to think straight, to have one coherent thought about where he might have ended up or how he got there…but it all fades into bubbles along his brain.
Looking down as best he can, his black ripped jeans are slightly more torn than usual. The top he wears is thankfully untouched apart from dirt. It’s a cream colour, one that he had frankensteined out of a sweater Nanamin had outgrown-
… Nanamin.
He thinks of his phone. The gateway to the big blonde, the ire and centre of his heart.
“Nanamin,” he slurs out loud, as if saying it might summon the man before him.
It hurts when he shifts, trying to feel if his phone is secured in its usual place in his pocket.
His heart drops when his fingers clasp around it; bringing it to his face confirms his suspicions. What was once the typical cracked and dirty screen of any art student is now completely shattered and dead.
“Fuck,” Mahito groans, tilting his head back against the wall.
It feels good to rest his eyes.
Like a reindeer
Can't seem to keep my nose clear
Coming through your pioneers
Smoking on Columbus call that pioneer
We might be dying here
Earlier, in another part of the city, Nanami is dragged out of the peace of his apartment.
He follows Haibara and their friends down the street with a shitty look on his face, yearning for a hot bath and silence after such a stressful work day.
Seriously; he’d only been in the workforce for a few weeks now. This was the first night he’d had off in a while and there wouldn’t be another for at least a month apart from Christmas Day.
‘But it’s Christmas Eve!’ Yu (wearing elf ears) had yelled at him while Gojo (wearing a Santa beard) shook some paper decorations in his face. Before he was even able to change from his button down and slacks , Shoko had slapped a Santa hat on him to match everyone. He’d been vaulted out the door with little ceremony.
He grits his teeth as they round the corner to the clubbing strip, mulling his annoying situation.
The big broad blonde had been working so much overtime at his new job since graduation. He hated it, but the harder he worked, the quicker he could move up the ranks and have more control over what he does.
Tonight really had been his first night off in a while. He had plans, beyond a hot bath and bed. He’d been meaning to open the precious bottle of expensive brandy gifted to him for graduation.
He’d been saving it for a time he really needed it.
The combination of work exhaustion, stress of adulthood and a certain… situation in his personal life all made for the perfect reason to finally indulge in the honey coloured liquid.
But his friends had been worried and wanted to get him out now that they had the opportunity.
They hadn’t seen him in a while. Even Haibara who lives with him hadn’t caught more than a few glances of the blonde each week because of his own work. The times he had, Kento looked worn out.
He does appreciate their care. If he could, he’d make time for them.
Only whenever free time has come up since he graduated, he finds he only wants to spend it with one person. Even tonight he was planning on calling that individual, despite the fact that he was probably out partying with his friends.
Suddenly, something in his chest compels him to check his phone. Not the work one he’s always glued to these days, but his own mobile.
He turns away from the group sitting in the booth with him, effectively pressing himself to the wall as he draws the device out of his pants. He hadn’t checked it since lunch and hadn't spoken to Mahito since early the previous day.
Seeing the cluster of messages from the last few hours makes his heart race, giddy, though he’d never admit it.
A long time ago, the number had been entered into his phone by its owner, along with the ridiculous symbols. He had planned to remove the silly face and keep just his name there, but he hadn’t gotten around to it…
Nanami panics slightly when he sees how many have been sent.
3:42pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
Nanamin!! My presentation topped the class like you said!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜Can we celebrate? Hanami already offered but if you’re finally free?...
5:26pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
I bet you’re working hard! But not too hard okay? ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ lets catch up soon :)
An ache blooms deep in his body, feeling like an asshole. If he had just checked his phone and seen the first message, they could have had a quiet celebratory night in the apartment while Haibara was out.
6:32pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
Kentooooooo <<<33333
6:54pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
Nanaminn??
7:03pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
Kento? (´•︵•`)
7:14pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
you dont love me anymore do you…
The blonde jerks back, literally recoils from the message.
He’s never sure how to handle Mahito’s affectionate teasing. He always pulls it at the worst of times. Like now, while he’s grumpy and forced to be in public. Another time Kento had taken him to his favourite bakery; he declared loudly to the kind owner that he and Nanami were to be married on the next full moon and she better stay away.
Holding hands in the most crowded of places, appearing out of nowhere to kiss his cheek and then disappearing leaving him flustered, bringing lunch to his office like a little bento wife…
It’s all in good jest. Nothing serious. He tells himself that a lot.
He doesn’t even want to think about the jokes Mahito makes when they’re having sex.
7:43pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
i miss u
7:44pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
lots
7:50pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )
8:24pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
i hope ur okay nanaminn. i really hope i get to see u for christmas
8:33
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
i know u work reeeeally hard. i hope ur not answering because ur resting xo unless uv been kidnapped by ur idiot brigade (¬⤙¬ )
8:40
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
did u open ur brandy yet? u deserve it!!
He feels himself blush. In their time being…whatever they were, Mahito had come to know him far too well.
9:37pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
nanamin dnt b mad ok but i got fight
9:38pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
a
m ok
9:40pm
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
he ddnt now im nanaminsss
He frowns out of concern, then at Haibara who tries to lean in and read.
“That your boyfriend?” He teases, elbowing the bigger man before downing some soju.
Nanami glares, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
For some bizarre reason, not just Haibara but the entire table erupt into laughter at him.
His cheeks burn as hot as his indignation.
Yu leans in again, this time speaking quietly, “Did you ask him yet? About the apartment?”
He glowers at all of them and shakes his head, then turns back to his phone, wanting to get to the end and then make sure he’s okay…maybe use it as an excuse to leave.
10:07
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
heyy keno can we have babies?
Nanami didn’t think his face could get hotter.
10:10
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
i want 100 lil nanamins
10:13
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
nanaMINIS
10:14
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa
He tries not to roll his eyes as he scrolls through a few more messages of indecipherable garble.
It suddenly stops at 10:30
11:05
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
i miss you kento
He feels like pure shit, rubbing his tired eyes, enduring the pain stabbing through his chest like a dagger.
They’re not together. They never talked about being together. They had indulged together for some time, then he graduated and Mahito entered his second last year of art school. Lots of projects to be done, he had shifts to work at the store and his own group of friends. Nanami’s life had to revolve around work for the time being.
They’d seen each other less and less.
When his eyes read the four final messages along with two missed calls , any calm left in his body evaporates.
11:10
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
he fond me
11:10
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
bleeding woops
11:14
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
hurts
11:14
Mahito⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡:
help nanamin
That's the last message.
It sends Nanami jolting to his feet, glasses falling as the table clunks around.
“Na-”
Before Haibara can ask, Kento holds the phone in his face, fingers white with strain as they cling to the device. Haibara leans in and reads. His lips part as he processes the words before giving his friend a resolute nod.
He turns to Suguru with determination burning in his eye. The tall man is currently fighting Satoru’s drunken attempts to fix the Santa beard on his face.
“Senpai! You’re the designated driver, right?”
I heard Santa got shot
He don't got snow
Hit a North Pole, gloryhole for his blow
It's a twisted Christmas
I made a hit list, hit up your mistress like
Mahito manages to pull his knees up to his chest. It hurts, but it’s warmer than having them spread out along the cold concrete.
He still doesn’t know where he is or what’s going on; just that he can’t leave his spot. Not just because of the pain, but because danger might lurk around the corner.
Danger…. that’s right!
“Can’t run from me little bitch.”
The unknown voice has him shuddering in fear.
He had stumbled, remembers missing Nanamin so badly he wanted to leave. The crowd had become too overwhelming, the noise too deafening, the air too hot as the room kept spinning around him.
At some point he lost Choso and the others in the thick of things. He decided it was a good time to make an Irish exit and head off into the night to find his blonde hunk of a man, intoxication be damned.
Then the fucker who stole his antlers had popped out from behind the dumpster, beaten and enraged. In his state of delirium at the time Mahito hadn’t been able to defend himself well.
“I’ll fuck you bloody!”
His tongue licks along his gums, coming away with the faded taste of blood.
A memory bursts open behind his eyes.
He’d been smacked in the face. He and the guy had slipped on the ice together; only his body had taken the impact, while his opponent’s head had met the corner of the dumpster.
Looking at his roughed up hands, he realises he probably crawled here.
The effects of multiple shots and too many party favours continues to settle in his bones.
“Mahito!”
The familiar voice cuts into the silent cold air around him. Not like a knife, but like a warm embrace. It’s the biggest relief of his life when he lifts his tired eyes and sees the blonde's big hulking frame running towards him.
“Nanamin!” He cheers deliriously, not sure if he’s actually imagining him or not. He could be an illusion, for he glows like the light of an angel descending upon the Earth despite his heavy breathing and the frown of concern on his face.
When Kento kneels before him, tearing his jacket from where it’s draped over his arm to cover Mahito’s slender shoulders, the pale man realises he’s not dreaming.
“Nanamin…” he repeats, more reverently, staring at the hard lines of the man’s face as he gives him a once over. Tears fill grey eyes, “I lost my purple jacket.”
“We’ll get you a new one,” is the soft response. He’s so warm, big hands bringing nothing but comfort as he tilts Mahito forward to wrap him properly in the tan wool-blend.
Mahito presses his forehead into the wonderful heat of the man’s chest, mindful enough to not push his nose in too and ruin Nanamin’s work shirt. He would hate that…
“What happened?” He asks when he draws back, “You’re bleeding.”
Mahito stares blankly, then laughs, pointing to his face, “Well. It’s not from being hit.”
Kento shakes his head and points to the part of his throat exposed above his top. Mahito’s mostly numb fingers feel along it and come away wet with blood, causing Nanami to hiss and seize his wrist.
“Idiot. Don’t poke it.”
The sharp clench of nails appears in his mind as quickly as it vanishes.
“He scratched me when he fell.”
“Who did?”
“The man who stole my reindeer,” he fumbles.
Nanami sighs hopelessly, head slacking in comparison to his stiff kneeling body.
“I’m sorry,” Mahito can’t help but whine, jiggling nervously. He knows he’s the source of Nanamin’s frustration but he’s not sure why.
It’s then he notices Haibara is standing not too far away, looking on with concern as he speaks with someone on the phone. He gives Mahito an encouraging thumbs up, but he doesn’t understand that either.
“I didn’t mean to bother you Nanamin,” he says softly.
Kento tuts and shakes his head, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
For a quiet minute, Nanamin inspects him. He takes each hand, checking his fingers and then arms for more injuries. His touch graces the scars already there like he does when they’re tucked away in their own pocket of the world.
Then he searches around Mahito’s neck and chest, under the cream turtle neck that had once belonged to the blonde. He makes sure the scratch is just a surface level wound, then moves his search lower.
Little black shadows dance in Mahito’s periphery.
“What hurts?”
“Mmm…” He thinks, wriggling against the wall. He points to his neck, then to his chest, then to his thighs. “I had some bad stuff I think.”
His voice is slurred, drowsy.
“You said you got into a fight.”
“Mmm,” he hums again, becoming more and more thoughtless by the second, “Earlier. With the others. Had too muh-” His speech hiccups, ‘Wan’ed Nanamin…I fought. S’ tired…”
He leans forward again to nuzzle into his broad chest, chasing the comfort he had come to know so well. Anything but the cold brick and hard fists.
“Mahito, what have you taken?” Gentle but firm hands hold his shoulders, keeping him at bay. Darkness ebbs at what little he can see.
“Let’s go sleep Kento,” he mutters softly, forgetting about the ‘not wiping blood’ thing and staining red against blue cotton when he falls forward.
He hears Haibara say something, closer, mentioning Shoko and someone picking them up. It feels as if a veil of black covers his brain, muffling and distorting everything while he can still feel.
Those careful hands start moving him, one slipping under his knees and the other around his shoulder. It’s a wonderful relief when he is finally lifted from the chilly concrete, wrapped in softness and clutched with fragility.
Wind whips his hair but not his face, tucked into the warm recess of Nanamin’s chest.
I'm a sad, sad girl
I'm a strange one
But I thrive in the darkness
And they love when I'm heartless
I'm a sad, sad girl
Not a sane one
The sun is starting to glimmer through the windows of the bedroom when Nanami feels himself nod off for the first time. For hours, midnight and beyond he has been awake and alert without a second of neglect.
He has one duty right now; watching over Mahito as he sleeps through whatever concoction Shoko had given him to flush his system.
Instead of laying in bed next to the thin flirt he has come to know too well, he is perched on a chair at the bedside. Shoko had looked at him like he was stupid for doing it before leaving, like she expected him to invade Mahito’s personal space without warning…
“Aren’t you supposed to be asking him to move in?”
Her words had ignited a fear in him, made him look over his shoulder at the sleeping figure in the blankets to make sure he had not heard. She walked out with an incredulous expression.
For hours he sat, nothing but some mindless financial podcast and a glass of regular whiskey for company, Christmas having lost its lustre and therefore his thirst for expensive brandy.
Yes, he has an offer to make Mahito. However, making that offer comes with certain admissions and confessions.
When the whole concept of having the oddball move in with him came up, the idea was so outlandish he actually karate-chopped Haibara’s head over it.
It had planted a seed in his brain though. As time went on and Yu got closer to landing the job that would require a small move, Nanami became more open to the idea.
The constant stream of good reasons helped; Kento wanted Mahito out of that house and away from troublesome people. He wanted him to be able to focus on school and have somewhere safe and clean to work.
Most of all, he wanted more opportunities to see him.
He’d be hard to miss, being at university when Kento’s at work, back in time to do some chores and work on his art for when the blonde gets home. Then they’d have some time to themselves.
Mahito would have Haibara’s room of course, but Nanami would be lying if he said he hadn’t envisioned the room being used as a studio and a studio only. A pretty pale body would fill the side of the mattress Kento doesn’t, instead of having two beds in the apartment.
Right there. Full access. Not having to arrange a time or find a solution to whatever blocks their interactions this time.
“Why’re you over there?”
He gives a little jump, snapping his gaze from the blinds to the mop of silvery blue hair tossed over the pillow.
Mahito sounds croaky and tired, shifting only to peer at Kento through his locks with one squinting eye.
“I’m cold.”
Plea given. Consent granted, even if it always was.
He strips down efficiently, knowing Mahito is hurting his own dry eyes and craning his neck to watch the thick man undress. In classic Kento fashion he puts away the clothes he had been wearing, leaving himself in some neat white boxers.
Before he can slide into bed, Mahito suddenly shoots up and dashes into the bathroom, vomiting loudly. Kento sighs and calmly follows, holding his hair out of the way and helping him wash up after.
Once clean, Mahito attaches himself to the other like a spider monkey, tying his limbs around him with a mewl. The blonde returns them to where he had been rotting away in the bed.
“Now I’m all better,” Mahito sighs, muffled by Kento’s hot chest before the darkness consumes him again (it hurts less).
Nanami happily wastes all of Christmas morning that way, falling in and out of consciousness entangled with slim porcelain limbs.
He only rouses a few times, noticing small changes with each. When Mahito puts soft Christmas sounds on in the background before burrowing back under sturdy muscles, or when the blinds have been adjusted slightly to block out more sun.
The hours tick by but he comfortably lies there in the haze, until mismatched eyes look up at him without being clouded by such a thick fog.
“Good morning Nanamin,” he chirps groggily, tilting his head with a big smile when Kento peers down at the man on his chest.
He throws a glance to the clock, “It’s 3pm.”
“It’s morning somewhere.”
“I…suppose it is.”
Despite having a nasty night, that smile somehow cuts through all the gloom.
“How do you feel?”
Mahito gently rubs his own head, “Body feels exhausted but my head’s screwed on, I think?”
He suddenly squeezes his arms extra tight around Kento’s neck and shoulders, wiggling his lower region against his.
“How do you feel?”
The front of his thighs toy with the hardness barely restrained in Nanami’s underwear.
Mahito giggles fondly, “You’re so big, Nanamin.”
The blonde clenches his teeth in a huff, “I’m not fucking you.” A big hand seizes Mahito’s hip, forcing him to stop moving.
He gets an instant pout, “But it always makes me feel better…”
“You wouldn’t need to feel better if you didn’t go overboard last night.”
He says it firmly, with conviction. The harsh tone forces Mahito back, loosening his hold on the bigger man as a mismatched wide stare comes to meet stern hazel.
“I thought you were done with your partying?” He continues, disappointed. He closes his eyes with a frustrated sigh. It makes Mahito feel his greatest sense of shame yet. “The type that makes you end up like this, anyway.”
Mahito withdraws his hands to his chest, expression pained as he clutches his fingers there.
“I guess I thought it would cheer me up,” he mutters.
The same negative cloud of emotions that had stormed in him week after week brews again, swirling truths that start fighting against his lips.
“Why…Why are you sad?” Nanami dares ask the question, pinching his lower lip between his teeth because he already knows the answer. “Is it because of me?”
Mahito squeezes his eyes shut, “It’s not your fault, Nanamin.”
The blonde swallows, “I want to hear.”
It doesn’t take much for a tired dam to break.
“I miss you so much, every day,” he blurts, “I wake up thinking about you, all my projects have been about you, I check my phone constantly to see if you’ve messaged…I feel like Nanamin doesn’t want me anymore.” His lip quivers.
While Mahito rains, Kento preens in sunlight.
The words he wanted to say himself, blurted out in the smaller man’s own signature language. He feels the same; he feels the same, like everyone had tried to tell him. His own heart convulses and races, bouncing around in his ribs like it has not beat for months.
All he has to do is say it back.
Instead, “I don’t think you should be living in that place.”
Mahito blinks.
Kento grunts.
Not the nicest response to ‘you don’t want me anymore’.
Confused, the pale man thinks of his sharehouse. The one with Haruta, Jogo, Dagon and an array of other randoms popping in and out. There was always something crazy happening, always trouble in some corner of the place.
“You think…” He tries to repeat the blonde’s words slowly, to wrap his head around the double meaning. “But where-”
“Haibara is moving out,” Nanami feels the lines he had rehearsed in the mirror for weeks spill out in a much more nervous rush than intended. “He wants to be closer to his job. I want you to come and live here.”
Finally the words are said, the sentiment given. Kento fiddles with the ends of Mahito’s hair, skin prickling with sweat and anxiety.
Mismatched eyes flutter tiredly as he stares, before a very clear realisation falls over him. His cheeks flush beyond the redness of tears, lips parting as his eyes glaze over.
“But…but Nanamin, I could never afford-”
“I’m not asking you to afford anything,” he coughs, staring at his lap. “With this job I can more than cover the rent. I’m not looking for help with that.” He clenches his fists determinately and then meets those unsure grey eyes head on. “I want to wake up next to you. I want to work knowing you’re at the end of my day. I want my apartment to smell like your bentos and your art. I want to know you’re somewhere safe every night.”
Big, stunned, shining doe eyes stare up at him. His words seem to send Mahito into another dimension.
It’s understandable; he hadn’t even asked Mahito to be his partner yet, always denying any sort of relationship beyond a friendship, pretending the perks were a secret from his knowing friends.
‘You’re basically married’, people have said often. Is he really like one of those dense manga characters Mahito loves to flaunt, who knows nothing when it comes to their own love life?
“Are you…Are you being serious, Nanami?”
“Of course I am,” he says gently, emboldened by the hesitation, “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”
When he notices the tears in the corner of his eyes, Kento caresses his cheeks, wiping them away.
“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you,” he tells him earnestly. “It was never my intention. I want you in my life and I believe this is the best course of action.”
A thousand different emotions flitter over Mahito’s face in a matter of seconds. The spinning wheel lands on some form of crying, as the dam fully comes crashing down and he explodes in tears, squeezing the life out of Nanami’s neck.
I need some ammunition
Bubblegum
I look for trouble cause I like to rumble
Bang bang
While the artist weeps, the salaryman carries him over to the bathroom, flicking the shower on and undressing their remaining clothes without dropping his precious package.
Mahito starts babbling doubts as soon as his feet hit the floor, just as expected by his now-partner.
“It’s not fair of me to rely on Nanamin for a place to live! I don’t deserve-”
Kento silences him with a kiss, forcing his vodka-smelling head under the spray of water.
It’s already burning hot.
He has always maintained the belief that Mahito had crawled out of hell. Not because of the morbidity of his art style, often portraying various forms of death, horror and the soul. Not because of his ability to consume many drugs without batting an eye. Not even for all the delicious sinful sounds he makes while indulging in his and Nanami’s dark fantasies.
He has showers that pour straight up lava on him, basking in molten water as it turns his pale skin shrimp pink.
Nanami slaps his hand lightly when he reaches for the handle to make it hotter, not wanting to have to endure anymore.
Before he can complain, Kento starts lathering Mahito’s body up, washing away the residue of the night. He moans at the sensation of those big rough hands rubbing him down, soothing over every inch of his aching body.
The touch is healing, gracing over his scarred skin and releasing the trauma and soreness trapped beneath. He helps Mahito wash his hair, silver blue darkening to grey once saturated.
Kento reaches for their toothbrushes; his, a regular blue one with hard bristles. Mahito’s, pink and decorated with cats. After they brush Mahito tries to wash him in return, but the bigger man gets impatient, pressing his chest to the other’s scarred pale back.
“Nanamin,” Mahito sighs breathlessly, pliant and relaxed against him.
“We can do this every day,” Kento mumbles into a bony shoulder. He licks the water across it, earning a pitched moan as his palms press down against the cheeks of Mahito’s ass. He squeezes and pries them apart, letting his fully hard cock fall between them amongst the suds. “And this.”
Mahito gives a giggle, “Priorities, hm?” He twirls and reaches up, pulling Nanami down to him. “I promise I’ll take care of the house, Nanamin.”
Eager hands grip his hips tightly, “I know.”
They clash in a kiss under the spray of the water.
Mahito writhes and trills, feeling up all over the blonde’s muscles, revelling in their significant size difference. He loves Nanami’s body, especially his chest and shoulders…now his nightly pillows.
The happiness of their new reality is overwhelming.
Kento is caressing his body with more and more enthusiasm, thorough by making sure every inch feels his fingers or palm. Lean thighs give a satisfying squish when he squeezes them. Pale skin is marked with the crimson scratches of neat nails.
Firm lips kiss and lick and nibble all the way down his neck until-
His lips brush the scabbed up scratch from the tumultuous night before.
Nanami jerks away, the facts of what Mahito had just been through raining down on him harder than the shower. His partner whines, slumping against him with heated panting.
“Why’d you stop?”
The blonde doesn’t answer immediately, quickly finishing their shower and switching off the water. He helps Mahito balance as he steps onto the mat with shaky legs.
“You’re still recovering,” his deep voice mutters.
Mahito pouts. Kento wraps a towel around him first, rubbing his bony frame comfortingly before he tends to himself.
Steam billows into the bedroom when the door opens. Mahito wanders in, eerily quiet as he observes the bedroom.
Kento eyes him. Their bedroom.
Suddenly the cream towel hanging from him is ripped off, snapped into the air and re-shaped so it can be used to dry his body properly.
It doesn’t take long for Mahito’s plan to become clear to the man behind him. A slender, pale leg flexes out to the side as he leans forward, reaching down to rub the towel down his calves and shins. The action elongates the lines of his body, showing just how toned and flexible he is.
Hazel eyes burn into every movement, watching the languid display before him with a dry mouth and caught throat. Mahito stretches and flaunts, putting little swings into his hips every time he turns to chase the fallen towel, flicking his hair around as it gathers in soft clumps falling in his face.
Kento holds out until Mahito is bending fully in half, briefly smirking at him through his own knees before he straightens back up with an innocent sigh.
A hand seizes the back of his neck. It isn’t rough, but it is firm.
“You really can’t wait until you’re better rested?”
The blonde’s tone has changed, slipped into its deeper, commanding space saved only for serious business and…
“I’m sorry Nanamin,” is the honey sweet response he gets. “I just wanted to celebrate this wonderful day.” His blue eye closes, the grey one squinting cheekily. “Maybe I’ll rest better after?”
Nanami makes a sarcastic, thoughtful sound.
The hand on the back of Mahito’s neck starts to become heavier.
“I do not want to hurt you.”
It’s a fair statement to make; more often than not, their intimacy consists of quite violent, rabid, brutal love making. Of course they had sex all sorts of different ways, but that in particular style scratches the worst of all itches in Kento’s brain. He knows Mahito is meant for him because it's the same for him too.
“Then don’t,” he shrugs.
Nanami releases his hold, tracing a finger down his spine. He stops briefly to thumb at a scar, scratching it at the end and making Mahito shudder.
The touch only disappears for half a second before there are gentle hands smoothing over his hips.
“Lay down.”
Mahito tries not to look too eager as he jumps onto the bed knee-first, traversing the tangled blankets to lay on his back against the pillows, wet hair be damned.
Kento follows him like a predator, hulking form looming over him with an intense stare once they are still.
It frightens the smaller man.
“Nanamin?” He ponders, tilting his head. The action and call of his name is all it takes to send him reeling.
He lowers himself, caging Mahito against the bed without crushing him, their bodies brushing only slightly.
Mahito pulses with lust at the sensation of all that strength and man looming over him, salivating as his eyes dip down to the expanse of muscle, then further to the colossal stiff cock drawing trails along his legs.
When mismatched eyes meet hazel again, their noses are touching. Droplets slip from the long parts of blonde hair, down onto his flushed cheeks below.
Mahito moans and goosebumps erupt along his porcelain skin as Nanami trails the tip of his nose along his face. It’s ticklish, intimate, sending all sorts of blooming feelings through the man beneath him.
“You’re mine now,” Nanami states quietly. There's no malice in its possessiveness; it's a simple fact, emotional or not. There is no denying how their souls have intertwined, how the decision to choose a happy arrangement has sealed the deal.
“Yours,” Mahito whispers back, eyes teary as he watches nose and lips slip down over his chest, licking past his nipple and lower.
Every piece of skin tingles and tickles with his caress, making Mahito breathless and needy with little work on Nanami’s part.
“Are you going to send me to work with those little bentos?” He asks, very carefully arranging Mahito’s legs to rest on his shoulders at the knee.
“Everyday,” Mahito giggles dazedly, “With love notes.”
A hot tongue slides eagerly up his hardened cock, twitching against his stomach. Mahito arches and whimpers, feeling those hazel eyes soaking in his reaction.
He continues to treat his smaller partner with all the gentleness in the world.
“And where do you intend to sleep?” He ponders in the brief moment he draws away, before he swallows Mahito whole.
A cute moan slips through soft lips as his slim frame twists under the sensation. Wrapped around him at the base, Kento laps his tongue against his tightened sack, before bobbing his head up and down. He restricts the graze of his teeth, something they normally indulge in.
“I-I want to sleep with Nanamin!” Mahito cries out his answer. He’s rewarded with tighter pressure, suckled while practised hands seize his knees.
Nanami pulls away with a ‘pop’, “Good. This is our room now, okay?”
Mahito’s pale cheeks are as flushed as they were in the shower, like glistening red apples in the snow. His lips are parted and panting, eyes dazed.
All his features only grow prettier when he smiles, “Our room.”
Tongue kissing
Till we need stitches
I just wanna take your face off
Wear it like it's face off
Gentle hands lift him without pain, folding his knees back against his chest. Excitement cascades through Mahito’s body when he realises what he’s getting.
“Nanamin!”
The blonde begins eating him out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in and around his fluttering rim as hazel eyes stare, relishing in the way it makes his sensitive partner lose his mind.
His name is babbled and praised in a whine as Mahito wriggles against the hold on his legs. Nanami somehow keeps him securely pinned without hurting him, making sure there is nothing but softness and pleasure heading his partner’s way.
“You can make the other room a studio,” he continues, circling his thumb over Mahito’s entrance. “You know I love watching you work.”
He pulls away then.
Mahito cries out jumbled pleas as he goes, writhing in the blankets at the thought of having his own place to create his art.
It’s not lost on him how special Nanami is treating him tonight. They both delight in the presence of a little bit of pain, a little bit of roughness and domination in their bedroom. It had taken a while to tame Mahito’s bratty side, but with perseverance they had come to know their boundaries well.
Tonight Nanami is being gentle, painless, sweet words spilling out instead of delicious commands. It’s not the first time they’ve been soft, but it’s the first time whispered promises of the future have reduced Mahito to babbling tears.
When his Nanamin returns to him, it’s with slick fingers gently easing into him.
“Would you like that?” His voice is a deep rumble, slowly working in and out, stretching Mahito wide for him.
“Yes!” He sobs, one hand clenched against his own jaw, the other keeping one of his knees bent.
Smiling, Kento returns to working Mahito’s cock with his mouth as he gently fucks three fingers in. It’s methodical, far more drawn out than usual given that the pale sinner prefers little prep and lots of Nanamin stretch.
He considers pleading and begging, but knows it will fall on deaf ears. Right now he is fragile in Nanami’s eyes. He’s treating him like glass- a fact that drives Mahito wild with lust and other emotions.
The blonde’s mouth is hot and soft; not a tight vice sucking him dry, but a wet tendril working him up. His hole is massaged and spread with loving caress, Kento knowing his body far too well now, knowing right where to press.
“Kento!”
Mahito shrieks and bucks when he comes, fisting his own hair as he fills his partner’s mouth with his seed. Large hands run soothingly all over every body part they can reach.
Through tears, mismatched eyes watch as the broad man draws back, cleaning off his pale cock with sealed lips.
Mahito gives a loud, needy whine at the sight of Nanami letting his spend slip from his mouth, splashing down onto his own throbbing manhood. It’s raging red and hard as a rock, standing out proudly before him. Mahito knows it well.
They stare at each other, intense and silent.
The dangerous thrill that usually comes with the feeling of that big blunt head against his entrance never arrives. Instead, slick with his own cum and opened so lovingly, his Nanamin’s cock slips in with no resistance.
In the place of a pleasant burn is a euphoric fullness that Mahito feels completes him whole.
“I love you,” he sobs, tears sliding down the corners of his eyes as he stares up at his Nanamin, protective and loving and strong. Nanami stares back at him with the same feelings.
It's the first time it’s been said.
He bottoms out, drawing a guttural moan from both of them.
Nanami still keeps his weight from crushing him, gently lifting Mahito’s legs further up his thick thighs before he leans down to cage his lover against the bed.
“I love you too, Mahito.”
They kiss desperately.
Nanami draws his hips back and begins meticulous firm thrusts that hit their target every time.
Mahito’s eyes are wide as a little sound escapes his mouth with every one. His insides are pressed and pummelled with precision, pushing him further and further back towards the edge.
He stares up at his hero. His happiness. The man who had saved him in so many ways, so many times that he would never know. He brought the best out in Mahito, taught him much about himself and the world.
Nanami brought peace and order to his chaotic life. Now he’s going to be with him every day.
“You make me so happy,” he weeps, reaching up to him. “So so happy Nanamin.”
Kento maintains his steady pace and catches thin wrists in his hands. He kisses the inside of each one, enjoying the heat of his porcelain skin before he lets them wrap around his neck.
He pets Mahito’s hair, smoothing it out of his face as he kisses him again. Mahito’s little sounds get higher and higher, his skin flushes down to his chest as he pants and whimpers in his state of sensitivity.
The love, the gentleness, the promises…it’s all so overwhelming.
This is what it means to make love.
“I’ll do it Nanamin,” he huffs mindlessly against the other’s lips, “I’ll be good! I’ll be a good wife to you,” he whimpers, “I promise!”
The blonde smiles warmly at him, “I know you will.” He seizes one of Mahito’s knees, folding him back just the slightest bit more as he increases his speed. “My beautiful, creative little wife.”
Mahito gasps like it’s the most wonderful thing he has ever heard. He slaps his hands against Nanami’s cheeks, stare wide and desperate as he is expertly fucked.
“Yes! I will! I-”
Mahito is suddenly only able to nod, blotchy-skinned, tear-stained, eyes squeezed shut as he climaxes at the root of his desire; being Nanamin’s wife. He goes tight and rigid for a moment before exploding out in an ecstatic cry, convulsing wildly beneath Kento’s big body as his dick spurts what little is left.
“C-Come inside, Nanamin!” He cries while he can, arching and twisting in the throes of the most lovely of pleasures. “Pleasepleaseplease!”
As it always has been, Mahito eventually gets what he wants.
Following close behind, Nanami reaches his own crescendo at his lover’s desperation to be bred, thinking of his earlier text begging for ‘Nanaminis’.
“My perfect little wife,” he whispers in sharp prayers, muffled against Mahito’s hair as he rocks steadily, working the most exquisite parts of his insides against the ridges of his cock. “My perfect homemaker.”
Tears of happiness continue to stream from grey and blue eyes as a thick warmth floods him, filling him up in a way that leaves him brainless, gaping, drooling and dazed.
Kento still doesn’t collapse on him, even has he pants audible moans into Mahito’s ear on his way down from his high.
When he does fall, it’s to the side to avoid hurting his precious pale other half.
He expects him to be out of it for a while, but immediately after Nanami has settled his big body back against the pillows, Mahito is curling into him. Still fucked out, still in another dimension, but immediately seeking his touch.
The blonde wraps him in his embrace, feeling like a whole new world is laying at their feet.
Life is about to get so much happier.