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[Mista is absolutely the worst. He knows that it's impossible to talk when Mista's biting him like that, and Shuji knows he knows, and it feels good but he at least wants to make sure that Mista gets his pants off before Shuji embarrasses himself.

'Let me get your pants off' is what Shuji intends to say, except the first part gets replaced by a gasp when Mista bites again, so it comes out:]

-getyourpantsoff.

[Which at least makes the message clear.]

[Yeah, that's pretty clear, all right. Mista's heart thumps in his ears, incredibly loud; he breathes out sharply against Shuji's throat, and again he can't help squirming. Yes, he wants that, but all of a sudden he's tongue-tied and shy. He kisses that second blooming mark, trying to buy himself a second to just--remember how to breathe.]

[It doesn't honestly work that well. Eventually, though, he's able to muster up enough wherewithal to murmur a response.]

You too? [And then there's a pause, and he tugs on Shuji's hips, painfully needy.] Please.

[Breathing is complicated, talking nearly impossible. Shuji's stomach is filled with nervousness and excitement, and he can't tell which is which.

Shuji lifts his hips enough to take his belt off, and then pulls his pants down as far as he can get without actually getting off of Mista, which ends up being about halfway.

He's a black boxers kind of guy, and almost painfully hard now.]

[The truth of the matter is that Mista's spent a lot--a lot--of time thinking about what Shuji would look like really worked up. It really has made him a little crazy these past few weeks and before that, too, before they were even officially anything, wondering what Shuji'd sound like and look like, how he'd feel.]

[But imagination isn't worth fuck all in comparison to the real thing. Mista's hypnotized watching the movements of Shuji's fingers, then his hips; he catches his lip between his teeth to try and steady his breathing, but it's no good, not when he sees how hard Shuji is just from this. Groaning, he leans forward to drag Shuji into a messy, uncoordinated kiss, hands coming to rest on his thighs for a long, painful moment before he lets himself squeeze a little.]

Love you, [he manages, breathless and barely coherent.] Hey, Shuji, I love you so fucking much, you know that? You look so damn good.

[And there was something else, but he's lost it. He kisses Shuji again, hoping it'll come back. He thinks it was important. Maybe?]

[The sincere, honest truth: Shuji thinks of himself as plain-looking. It's one of the main reasons he ever got into fashion - because there's only so much he can do about his natural looks. He dyes his hair and puts it into a braid, he buys clothes and studies exactly what's trendy at the time, but if you took that all away, he thinks he'd be nothing special.

But Mista thinks he looks good. He thinks that more the more Shuji takes off. It makes Shuji's mouth feel dry even with the wet kisses.]

I love you too. [In between kisses, he manages that much.] I want to see you too.

[Oh, yeah. That was the other thing. Shuji wants his pants off, which--the thought of it makes Mista short-circuit a little bit, although not in a bad way. And the other part of the other thing was that this isn't enough, not quite. He wants to see all of Shuji, and it's probably a safe bet that Shuji's feeling the same way.]

[So. Time to do something really, really difficult. He kisses Shuji again, then once more on the corner of his mouth, and then leans in until their foreheads touch. He feels wrecked already and wonders if he looks it. Shuji does. It's a good look.]

I'm gonna move you and get up for a sec. But I'll be right back. Five seconds or less. Trust me?

Got it. Five seconds or less.

[He doesn't think that Mista would leave him half-naked on his - their bed. He's more considering whether he can get his shirt and underwear and pants off completely in five seconds. The answer is probably no, he can't, but he'll try his hardest.]

Okay.

[Good. Great. Okay. They both know what's going to happen. Now Mista just has to do it. And it is, in fact, the hardest thing he's ever done in his life, shifting his weight to deposit Shuji onto the bed and getting his feet on solid ground again. He wobbles a little, leaning one hand on that mattress. God, how did he ever walk?]

[In the second and a half it takes to get his balance, he stares at Shuji, flushed and dissheveled on the bed. He wonders if he's dreaming. Then, with more grace than he really has any right to, he shucks his shirt off, undoes his belt, and steps out of his pants. Doesn't trip while undoing his socks. Suave as hell. The main issue is his boxers, which--should he? He probably should. Otherwise they'll have to maneuver again later. But maybe it's presumptuous or weird, or maybe--]

[Shut the fuck up, he tells himself sternly and just does it. There. Done. It was six seconds because he waffled, but it's done. Now, shy all over again, he rests his weight on the bed and then crawls up close to Shuji, not quite meeting his eyes.]

[Shuji's focused on himself for the moment. Pants all the way off, socks coming along with them - thank god he doesn't wear shoes in the house, taking off shoes is not sexy ever. Shirt gets unbuttoned as much as it needs to be before he can just pull it off over his head.

Underwear... gets shoved down along with his pants before he can freak out too much about it, and the whole pile of clothes gets thrown over the side of the bed.

Shuji looks to Mista, suddenly naked Mista, and just - freezes, for a second, because holy shit, Mista is the most gorgeous man he's seen in his life and they're in bed together and they're both hard and they're going to have sex.

Should he kiss him? Should he touch him, and if he should touch him should he go for the goods or work up to it or- God, he doesn't know. Do something, he tells himself, don't just stare.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out and - holds Mista's hand again.]

[If it helps at all, Mista's staring too. A lot. This is another instance of fantasy paling in comparison to reality. Shuji is slim and gorgeous, all legs. There are marks on his throat in the shape of Mista's mouth, but the rest of his skin is smooth and begging to be marked up. Mista wants to kiss and bite him all over.]

[And he's so hard. It looks like it hurts. That's because of Mista, that's for Mista, and all of a sudden his mouth is watering because--yeah, okay. Yeah. He's pretty sure he's never been this turned on in his life, which sure does confirm some shit.]

[Shuji's fingers slide between his. He's shaking. Mista looks up and meets his eyes and bites his lip. Shuji looks about as nervous as he feels.]

. . . Hey, you.

[His voice is rough and breathless. He squeezes Shuji's hand and tentatively reaches out to hook one leg around Shuji's. Not too much, too close, or too fast. Just . . . he wants to be a little closer, to have a little more contact.]

I'm really fucking nervous. So can I kiss you? That usually helps.

[Shuji hopes that Shuji kissing him will work just as well as Mista kissing him, because he's doing that. To quell his own nerves, and Mista's, and also just because he wants to touch him more. He can't do anything approaching restrained - it's wet and needy and not half as desperate as Shuji feels right now.

He settles his hands on Mista's hips. It's hard to let go of Mista's hand, but getting closer to actually Doing A Sex Thing is worth it.]

[It does help, in that Mista forgets he was nervous immediately. Shuji's hot where his hands have found purchase on Mista's lips, and his kiss is--fuck. Mista groans into it, parting his lips against Shuji's to kiss him hard, all need and very little technique.]

[Where from here is the question, though. He runs his hands up and down Shuji's sides again, then up and down and further, over his hips and down his thighs and back up to his hips. It's not really conscious after that, the way his fingers slide down, thumbs pressing into the hollows of Shuji's hipbones, the way his knuckles trail the inside of Shuji's thighs.]

Can I--

[Fuck. He knows what he wants, so why is he choking like this? Huffing out a frustrated breath, he kisses Shuji again, whining in the back of his throat.]

[He knows what he wants, and Shuji knows what he wants, and Mista's touch to his thighs makes Shuji shiver and every kiss makes him groan.

Fuck it. Shuji wraps his hand around the tip of Mista's cock. It's hard to avoid looking at it, and he really, really wants to touch it and find out what noises Mista makes when he does.]

[Add that to the list of things Mista loves about Shuji: sometimes, when it's really important to him, he manages to ignore the potential consequences and just go for what he wants. In this case what he wants is to get his hands on Mista properly, and the consequences are--]

[Well, there aren't any. And for the record, Mista makes a lot of noises in response to this particular touch. First a shuddering breath as he registers the touch, because Shuji's hand feels so much hotter than it has any right to be; his eyes fly wide open and he claps one hand over his mouth, but it's not enough to hold back the needy whimper as he curls into the touch, as close to Shuji on the bed as he can possibly get. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know how to move or think or even breathe.]

Fuck, Shuji. Fuck, [he manages through his fingers, but that appears to be it.]

[Mista is reactive. Shuji had realized that from how Mista had responded to everything else, but this is a lot of response all from one tiny thing.

He couldn't be happier.]

Mista... [It's full of awe, the kind of exhalation you make at seeing a beautiful force of nature or a miracle. Mista is a miracle.

Shuji licks the inside of his other hand to make it wetter before bringing it to join the first, and stroking slowly. This isn't so different from what he's done to himself, and what he's imagined Mista doing to him.]

[He doesn't know what to do with the way Shuji's looking at him. It's good, but it's a lot, too. People don't look at him like that usually. Like he's the beginning and end of everything. He has to close his eyes against that look for a moment or he'll literally lose his mind, and then he won't be able to suck Shuji off like he's abruptly, desperately obsessed with doing.]

[Not that he can say it. Both of Shuji's hands are on him, slow and steady. It makes him twitch, head to toe, his breath coming quick as he stares at--himself. And Shuji's hands moving over him, so sure.]

[He manages to glance up at Shuji's face just for a moment, and that look is still there, that awe. His hips twitch forward, and he turns his head to hide his face in the pillows for a second. Shuji's too beautiful to look at. He'll go fucking blind.]

[Not being touched as much makes it a little easier for Shuji to find words, though they're still not half as coherent as if Mista weren't naked in front of him, if his hips weren't jerking because of Shuji's touch, if he weren't breathing harder because of pleasure Shuji's giving him.]

Don't - I want to see your face. Please?

[If Mista can't show his face, that's okay, and Shuji will keep stroking him like this. But Shuji wants to see him. All of him.]

[It's dangerous. He thinks if he looks at Shuji too long he'll come just like that. He can't withstand that look, how much pleasure Shuji takes in making him feel good.]

[But Shuji says please. Mista groans into the pillow, because he can't resist that, either. Shuji could ask him for anything right now, and if he said please at the end, Mista'd do it gladly.]

[It takes way too long to turn his head and open his eyes, but he does it. He's red to the tips of his ears, his eyes lidded and his pupils blown. Looking at Shuji makes him shake all over, just for a second; then he finds words, raspy as they are.]

You're the sexiest thing I've ever fucking seen-- [Out all in one breath, and then he's reaching up to grab Shuji by the back of the neck and draw him down for a quick, rough kiss. It has to be quick if he's going to remember to breathe, and he comes out of it gasping, but he doesn't let go. Shuji wanted to see him, so here he is close up.]

Edited 2017-09-22 05:38 (UTC)

[~~But would he get rid of his crop tops if Shuji asked?~~

There Mista is, looking so overwhelmed because of what Shuji is doing to him. Shuji's feeling a little overwhelmed himself, wrecked from the way Mista shivers and gasps, from having Mista so close to him.]

You're so gorgeous, I didn't know anyone could be this hot- [Shuji kisses Mista again, stroking him a little faster as he does so. He wants to make him groan even more, louder and louder until he loses what control he has left.]

[~~IT IS A DISTINCT POSSIBILITY~~]

[He doesn't understand what Shuji's talking about. There's no way he even compares to Shuji right now, Shuji who's flushed and staring with a perfect mouth and the best kisses, Shuji who is being so, so good to him. Shuji speeds up at the same time as he kisses Mista, which means the groan that rolls out of Mista's mouth does so right into that kiss; it's helpless and needy and loud, and Mista either doesn't realize how loud he's being or he just doesn't care.]

[It's probably the second one.]

So good, [he mumbles,] don't stop, babe, please, [and as his hips settle into a sort-of-steady, mostly-frantic rhythm, he thinks fuck it and finally allows himself to grab for as much of Shuji's ass as he can reach. His fingers dig in, probably a little too hard, and he shudders. It's just--good. It's so good.]

[Who cares if he's being loud? Who can even think about the neighbors? Nothing matters right now except that Mista is moaning because of him and pistoning his hips and -

-and he sure did grab Shuji's ass, and Shuji can't help but squeak a little at that, not from embarrassment so much as just surprise. But he's not stopping. He would never even consider stopping, not when Mista is like this. He only wants to do more, not less.]

Mista... Mista, you're perfect...

[Another time, he'll bat Shuji's hands away and pull him down so they can just grind against each other, messy and slick, until they both come. Not now, though. He can't think about anything other than this exact moment, how soft and reverent Shuji's voice is, how good he feels under Mista's hands. Nothing else matters.]

[Except--okay, one thing matters. He doesn't know why it matters, it just does. Shuji's words are so sweet that Mista shudders again; he wants to live up to them, he wants to be as good as Shuji's being to him. He probably will be embarrassed about this later, but in the moment, as heat sweeps over him and he starts to lose his rhythm, it just feels right.]

Shu--is it okay-- [No, too many words. Try again.] Can I--?

[His fingers flex against Shuji in frustration. Can I come, that's what he wants to know, he wants Shuji to let him--but words are just. Impossible.]

[Another time they'll do that. They'll have so many times. This is just the first one, and it's perfect as it is.

Even though words are hard for both of them and none of that actually gets to the point, somehow Shuji picks up on what Mista means without being told.

You knew what I was thinking before I said it. You're, like, impossibly good at taking care of me.

-Or maybe that's just how they've always been.]

I want you to. I want to see you come.

[He wants that more than he wants to breathe.]

[He doesn't know why he wasn't expecting such enthusiastic agreement. That's Shuji all over. When he wants something, he wants it a lot. But it's still a shock, even here and now with Shuji's hands pushing him over the edge, how much Shuji wants him.]

[His fingers twitch; he wants to bring his hand up to cover his mouth, but he doesn't. He wants to hide his face again, but he doesn't, because Shuji wants to see him. Shuddering with relief, he shifts, one hand gripping tight to Shuji's hip and one at the back of his neck again. He makes himself keep eye contact, because that's what Shuji wants, and he wants to give Shuji everything.]

[It doesn't take long, either. His hips lift off the bed and shudder as his lips part, letting out a helpless groan, and a few seconds later his whole body shakes and that's it. He's coming because of Shuji's hands on him and Shuji's permission. Because of Shuji. It's perfect.]

[Everything that Shuji wants, he wants a lot, but he's never wanted anything as much as he wants Mista.

Mista is more beautiful than any work of art, and Shuji swears he stops breathing during the entirety of his climax. He doesn't take his eyes off him once - Mista let him watch, and Shuji won't ignore that gift.

He strokes him through it, then pulls his hands away. There's come on them. He should probably do something about that at some point. Not now, because his hands and any messes on them are not as important as Mista.]

I love you so much.

[He could do just this a hundred times and never get tired of it.]

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