牛島 若利 Ushijima Wakatoshi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leftwinger) wrote2021-04-01 09:11 pm
leftwinger) wrote2021-04-01 09:11 pm
Entry tags:
Open post [ACTION]
For action/prose. For epistolary and texts, there's another post for that.
For action/prose. For epistolary and texts, there's another post for that.
no subject
[So he scolds, but...Sakusa cares. Ushijima is clearly in the middle of shaking off whatever has him acting strange, so he hovers over Ushijima's station as well, moving a bowl into place to catch the juice continuing to drip out of Ushijima's clenched fist. He also pulls out a cloth from his pocket and offers it to Ushijima. It has a ruffle that matches the apron along one edge.]
You're getting it everywhere. Use this.
['Use this,' Sakusa says, but he's the one patting Ushijima's hand dry with it, fingertips lingering just a second longer than strictly necessary. Once he's ensured Ushijima is capable of returning to his cooking duties again, Sakusa rinses his hands and turns back to the measuring bowls once again.]
I'll prepare the meat and vegetables. I like chopping stuff. It reminds me of spiking somehow.
[Maybe it's the repetitive motion or the forcefulness of it, but whatever the case, he likes it. He practically smiles while confiscating the onion and mushrooms, immediately setting to work. Sakusa starts with destemming the mushrooms and diligently slices them in even, steadfast motions. He knows his way around a knife, experienced hand ensuring the knife never slices too high and carefully resting his second knuckles against the flat blade so that he doesn't cut himself. He pauses after the mushrooms are cutting, pout back in full force as he watches Ushijima struggle with the meat and rice.]
Hmm. I expected you to be more competent.
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[And now Sakusa's dabbing at his hand with a hanky. He's equal parts endeared and embarrassed. When his hand is clean and dry and not in danger of losing any phalanges, he folds the hanky, with the damp side in of course, and sets it on the counter far and away from everything else.
From there, he sets back to work: filling the rice cooker with the clean grains and just the right amount of water then adjusting the temperature and cook-time to the best settings. That's the easy part. Cutting the beef into evenly-sized pieces proves to be a different beast altogether, as it turns out the butcher mixed in fatty beef with the pricey wagyu pieces.]
What do you mean?
[Pointedly not looking in Sakusa's direction, as he can already tell he's doing that cute Pout again.
The cut pieces are placed into another clean bowl for later use.]
This is fine. I haven't cut myself or made too much of a mess, have I?
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[Sakusa peels and minces the garlic next, saving the onion for last. He could manage the garlic with his eyes closed, so he steals a glance just to confirm how Ushijima is managing. He's still not looking at Sakusa...]
No, but... Are you feeling well?
[Not vocally, but Sakusa is truly becoming concerned. It's one thing for Ushijima to be off his game. It's another for Ushijima to act like a novice in his own kitchen.
Luckily for Ushijima, Sakusa starts on the onion. He turns on the kitchen fan before starting to cut, but a few tears still manage to pool through. Sakusa neither flinches nor blinks. He doesn't wipe his eyes either, since that would require washing his hands and he kind of needs them for this task. Now he's squinting and pouting. And sniffling.]
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[He separates the fat from the meat on another chunk of beef. Not his cleanest slice. And that's when he sighs softly--]
You're distracting, Kiyoomi.
[It's true. And instead of making him worry even further or, worse, instead of lying to him, Wakatoshi deems it better to just tell the truth. It's what he's known for; it's what's expected of him, so why not?
And he's feeling a little better. Until he glances over at Sakusa and notices the sniffling and the pouting and the squinting, and god.]
...very distracting. I was not prepared for it. I apologize. I did not mean to cause any alarm.
[Wakatoshi, who has had his tongue deep in Sakusa's mouth and in his ass, is distracted by Sakusa in an apron cutting vegetables.]
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...Oh. Sakusa's attention shifts to his arms, where the ruffled sleeves end just above his wrists, and then to the laced neckline on his chest. He's never thought anything of it before; if anything, some might say it's what a housewife might wear.]
My apron? Really?
[His stare would be more judgmental, but that's kind of hard to manage when his tear ducts are watery and red. He sniffs.]
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[As if that explains everything. To Wakatoshi, it does.]
Not just appearance-wise, though that's endearing as well. It's seeing you in something typically reserved for housewives and cute girls, yet knowing you're an athlete capable of rendering someone immobile with just a look...
[Gap moe is the term.
And the sniffling -- he can't handle it. It's too much. Wakatoshi finishes cutting the beef and, after rinsing his hands clean, he takes a fresh paper towel sheet and carefully -- carefully! -- nears Sakusa.]
Your eyes. Let me see.
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[Perhaps for other reasons, now that Sakusa thinks about it... Personally, Sakusa could understand the appeal had it just been left at cute. The apron was objectively cute, after all, even he had to admit. But knowing that Ushijima's riled up from seeing him specifically in the apron... That fills him with equal parts pride and self-consciousness. His face mirrors the conflict plainly, obvious pout and thick blush at odds with each other.
Maybe it was a little too cute for somebody like him... Back when he'd purchased it, he'd thought something similar, but by now it was such a regular fixture in his life that the style no longer registered as anything out of the ordinary. Tilting his chin toward his boyfriend gives Sakusa time to think, and it comes with the added bonus of cleaning his face, which he couldn't do with messy hands anyway.
Since becoming a pair with Ushijima, he's slowly warmed up to being touched in new ways, but his eyelids remain sensitive and every time he blinks at the gentle petting, it makes his lashes bat up and down. He's grown comfortable with being this close to Ushijima, even pressing closer while careful to keep his dirty hands away.]
Thank you.
[Sakusa remains close after Ushijima's patted his eyes dry, though there's no reason to maintain the closeness. His half-lidded, dark eyes look Ushijima directly in the eye for what has to be a minute too long to be comfortable.]
Is this some kind of fetish? You haven't been able to look at me this entire time. It's just an apron, so there's nothing strange about it if you look...
[Because maybe, just maybe, he wants to be looked at. Especially now that he knows Ushijima likes it. He shifts in place just enough that the lace bunches up, one of the ruffles fluttering.]
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The eyes dry and clean now, he moves to toss the towel into the trash, only to stop cold in his tracks by a knowing stare and the heat it makes creep up his throat.]
Fetish? No. That...would imply I would appreciate the apron more than the person wearing it. Or that anyone could wear it and I would be attracted to them, which is not the case.
[The lace is bunching up, the whisper of moving fabric capturing Wakatoshi's attention almost instantly. He breathes in, nice and deep, and steels himself.]
...It's you, Kiyoomi. I don't know what it is beyond just that, but you're making me want you. Perhaps you're not even aware of it, but it's true.
[A pause, as he breathes deep again, this time to ready himself for when he meets Sakusa's gaze head-on.]
Can you turn around for me, please?
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...Okay, but don't laugh at me.
['Can you turn around for me, please?' could mean a number of things. On the most basic level, Sakusa could just turn his back to Ushijima to fulfill the request. But no, knowing that Ushijima is into the piece of clothing stirs Sakusa's playfulness as he takes a step back. It's a little too stiff to be sexy and obviously takes a great deal of effort for Sakusa, who is usually so lowkey in tone and expression, to twirl just once, enough for the sleeves and trim to catch some air and flutter. He strikes a pose when it settles, hands crossed over his lap like the polite image of a housewife greeting her husband after a hard day of work.]
Welcome home, dear. Would you like dinner? A bath? Or perhaps...me?
[Actions, tone, expression. All of it is deadpan.]
i need flustered icons for him
Tendou had lent him some manga in the past, many of which had a trope where excited males would often get nosebleeds. Wakatoshi thought those were dumb: how can a nose bleed from excitement? It's scientifically impossible.
And yet, here he is, feeling the blood rush to his nose. It's to his dick, actually, which has created quite the tent in his pants, visible through his own apron draped over it. With the way his short-circuited brain throbs at just the idea of Sakusa uttering goshujinsama, he thinks he'd be forgiven for mixing the two up.
Without a word, Wakatoshi swallows. Somehow, he keeps his hands to himself, despite every synapse in his lust-adled mind telling him to just go for it, Ushijima.]
...you're teasing me.
yessss
No, he's not bursting out of his apron like Ushijima is about it, but Sakusa feels...sexy. Knowing that he's turning Ushijima on turns him on too, and all the attention to his girly apron suddenly makes it feel all the more taboo. Besides, he doesn't really have to put on an act when it comes to behaving like he lives solely to please Ushijima emotionally and physically.]
Yeah, but only because you like it.
[There's not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone; anybody could see how sincerely captivated by Sakusa's apron he was, and Sakusa was willing to indulge him. He closes the distance between them again, hands carefully placed on either shoulder before slipping up and over to rub at that broad backside. He places one off-center kiss just on the seam of Ushijima's lips, gentle and silent, as his hands drop lower, fingertips pushing and pulling in comfortingly. He does his best to recreate the sense conveyed in TV scenes when a wife comforts her husband in her embrace, but affectionate and romantic are qualities at odds with his usual behaviors.
Sakusa tucks himself close enough to rest his face in the crook of Ushijima's neck and shoulder, lips resting as gently against his Adam's apple as they had against his lips. Meanwhile, one hand drags around Ushijima's hip while the other keeps venturing lower. By the way his hand silently rests against the mound, it's clear he won't be cooking again, not for awhile.]
I could give you a back rub...or this. [He gropes Ushijima's erection shamelessly.] Which do you prefer, darling?
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Chest rising with the deep inhale he takes when Sakusa approaches him, he holds his tongue and waits with bated breath for his lover to make the next move. The kiss is nice and calming, a cool salve over his anticipation of what's going to happen next; the nuzzle and next kiss, a warm compress. It'd be easy for him to just sigh and relax and return Sakusa's affections...assuming that's where the loving touches end.
But Sakusa's crafty, and his spindly fingers curling over his erection without pause as he continues the doting-wife routine shatters the few remaining bits of Wakatoshi's resolve.
He latches onto Sakusa's ass, greedily, the immaculate and soft fabric bunching up into his large, rough hands as he starts to tug and rub at any part of both Sakusa and the apron he can touch.]
It's...it's been a rough week, dear...
[His voice is gravel, tinged with desperation. It sounds foreign to him.]
...you know what I need.
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'Handsy,' Sakusa thinks to himself, with no small amount of pride. It's not like Sakusa isn't just as hands-on, rubbing his firm grip steadily thumbing over Ushijima's apron in a promise of what's to come, though it's difficult to maintain composure with all the force of Ushijima pulling him closer and clawing at the same places he'd left red welts not a week ago. Sakusa squirms as the dull ache mixes with new want, every little shift brushing the ribbons' ends over Ushijima's arms.
He hadn't planned on the roleplay seducing himself, but Sakusa quickly imagines and loses himself in a fantasy that places him on his knees and between his lover's thighs. Though it's not something they've tried before, Sakusa would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in it. Ever since the first time he held Ushijima's cock in his hand, he'd wondered what it would feel like in his mouth, and what was more housewifely than pleasuring one's husband? Sakusa doesn't require convincing.]
You work so hard... Isn't it about time you relaxed? Let me take care of you.
[Giving nothing less than his all even in this housewife act, Sakusa's usual monotone is laced with a hint of coyness and a pinch of a fluster. The words taste foreign in his mouth yet there's no way he'd give the act up now, not with Ushijima kneading his ass and his own mouth drooling in want.
Pulling away is unfortunate, but it's necessary for what Sakusa intends. He gently hooks a hand around Ushijima's wrist to lead him to the dining table and then ushers Ushijima into the seat. It's also going to be necessary to get that apron out of the way, no matter how cute Sakusa finds Ushijima in it. He wastes no time unfastening the apron and removing it from Ushijima, folding it neatly and placing it on the table; that part very well might not be part of the play, Sakusa naturally inclined to tidiness. He does, however, exaggerate his gestures, making certain his ruffles flounce.
With the apron that had been hiding that delicious lump out of the way, Sakusa drops into seiza, pries Ushijima's knees apart, and scoots into the newly opened space. Sakusa unzips Ushijima's fly, careful to keep the apron on display while he leans forward and hooks his fingers inside the band. He wants nothing more than to yank his waistband down and the rest of his pants along with it, but the fantasy calls for asking for permission. And so Sakusa looks up through his black eyelashes, not even properly lifting his face, and his pout tells Ushijima he won't take, 'no,' as an answer to this next question. He'll just have to make it so that, 'no,' isn't an option.]
May I, goshujinsama?
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Even if Sakusa isn't, physically, the very image of a picture-perfect housewife or Wakatoshi himself of a husband, it's so easy to buy into the fantasy like this. He can easily imagine himself as a salaryman, coming through the door after a long days' work and throwing his keys and briefcase on the sideboard, only to have Sakusa waiting for him in the genkan with his slippers and helping him out of his blazer with a quip about how his day went and how he was home now, so he could finally relax...
Okay, so maybe there was something to those maid-cafes the Shiratorizawa boys always cooed about wanting to visit whenever they went to Tokyo for Nationals.
Still in a bit of a daze, Wakatoshi follows dumbly behind Sakusa and drops into his seat without even remembering how he got into this room or what happened to his apron. At this point, he honestly doesn't care. His knees spread apart, he clutches at his thighs to give his hands something to hold on to. For now.
Pupils already blown wide, he stares down at Sakusa as more and more desire unravels from the pit of his belly. Wakatoshi swallows, the thick tension making his Adam's Apple bob. It's cool inside the apartment yet his shirt is starting to stick.]
...of course, dear. Go right ahead.
[Honestly, 'no' was never an option because with Sakusa, Wakatoshi never has the resolve to resist him.]
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Sakusa's long fingers slip into the waistband and follow the length down to his balls, where he cups them and begins petting the soft pair. His free hand eagerly twitches as he finally pulls down the waistbands, and Sakusa stares when Ushijima's cock bobs free off its confines right at his eye level. It smells amazing and looks even better. He can't wait to suck it...]
I've waited a long time for this.
[He admits it in the same tone he'd been using all along, but this remark is sincere. Since he'd had the cock inside of him, he had touched himself, fantasized, and, hell, dreamed about sucking it. He smiles at it, then smiles back at Ushijima, pressing the cock against the softest part of his cheek and then turn turning to place three open-mouthed kisses as his lips drag up the cock.
Sakusa connects his forefinger and thumb around Ushijima's balls and gently tugs at them just as he lavishes more kisses on the treat in front of his face. His first kisses are chaste and sweet, like the little pecks usually pressed into Ushijima's cheeks. The hand that had pulled down his clothes begins to knead into a thigh, grip becoming firmer at the same time those kisses take a sloppier turn.
Sakusa takes only the head into his mouth to keep it in place while lapping at the precum dribbling down the slit. Some of it continues to leak out the side of Sakusa's lips, mixed with drool of his own, but Sakusa licks that dry as well, then licks his lips clean in a manner that isn't entirely just for show. He's always liked bitter and salty, after all. Up to this point, his focus had been entirely on Ushijima's cock, but now he looks up again, hugging his cheek against the head of his cock.]
Mm... You taste good. [Sakusa's confession makes his own cheeks flush. Right, this is supposed to be play.] Honey.
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It's embarrassing. Everything is embarrassing. How much this is affecting him. How much he likes this. How hard he already is...at this rate, it won't take much to make him come, something that Wakatoshi, and his stamina and control, can't help but feel a certain way about.
Wakatoshi blushes. Deep, hot, and all over. Any minute now, he's going to melt into the chair, he's sure of it. His hand comes over his face -- his eyes, mostly -- as if to protect Sakusa from this vulnerability. Not that it does much: his imagination's working overtime and his other senses are so hypersensitive, he can see what Sakusa's doing without having to watch him.]
Fuck, baby...
[Wakatoshi squirms, the motions making him sink into a slump and, unintentionally, pushing his cock further out into the humidity of Sakusa's mouth. Not too much, thankfully, but still enough for Wakatoshi to guiltily pull his hips back and mutter an apology.]
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[Ushijima thrusting into his mouth takes him by surprise, but more surprisingly than that...Sakusa likes it. He closes his eyes and hums into the thrust, eyelashes fluttering as his eyes roll back and his mouth sinks deeper. It's the combination of the name, baby, and Ushijima unable to control himself.
Baby. It's odd, since such a soft, cute nickname is such an unsuitable thing for a man like Sakusa, who is more bone than muscle, and what muscle he has is firm and sinewy, not like the plush muscles Ushijima's sculpted. Yet hearing it fall from Ushijima's mouth heats Sakusa's cheeks and spurs on his desire to swallow Ushijima whole.
When he looks up, Ushijima is covering his face, and that simply won't do. He pulls off to snap, and a filmy line of saliva sticks to his bottom lip, still connecting it to Ushijima's cock.]
Hey. Look at me.
[Watching started this whole thing, so Sakusa can't help but feel like it's a waste if Ushijima doesn't do just that. Besides, his pride won't stand for it. He'd been acting his part of the cute housewife, and damn it if he doesn't give Ushijima a sight worth watching. His brows narrow as he gets to work again, this time sticking out his tongue and kitten licking along the slit before taking his cock back into his mouth.
Sakusa hollows out his cheeks and that's the only indication he gives before swallowing down as much length as he can manage. He maintains eye contact while sinking down the length, tongue flat against the underside and tracing the veins. Another 'mmmf,' is joined by a sloppy, wet pop as he begins bobbing his head up and down.
'So big,' Sakusa thinks, pleased, but his thoughts come out as a garbled 'hhh-hmmf.' The vibrations from his throat rouse Ushijima's cock, which in turn prompts Sakusa's hips to squirm in the seiza. His own breathing picks up, even though it's not his cock getting coated in saliva and enthusiasm, and his hand finally slips up from Ushijima's balls to the soft pubic hairs, where he digs and strokes where his mouth can't reach.
He breathes carefully and pulls off with a slurp, letting his hand take over for his mouth in the meantime. There's no coyness or show this time, Sakusa's tone hoarse and demanding. It's clear from his tone alone that he doesn't intend to keep his mouth empty for long.]
In my mouth or on my face?
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He pulls his hand away from his face, now blushing so hot and so fiercely it feels like it might bruise, and gazes down at Sakusa still knelt between his legs, beautiful as ever, still playing the role of a devoted housewife.
His mouth opens, prepared to offer up an apology, only for him to let out a strangled noise that he'd be embarrassed about later. The hand he'd been trying to hide under, unable to come over his face, latches hard onto the chair's armrest and squeezes tight as the rest of his body follows suite, practically lifting off the chair. Even his toes begin to curl.
Head thrown back and both eyes pinched shut, and he lets out a half-sob, half groan when presented with a choice. His mind feels like it's being split open and Sakusa wants him to answer properly?
His hips lift again, only slightly, and as he feels the head of his dick brushing at the back of Sakusa's throat, he can only silently hope for forgiveness.]
Your mouth... nngh, your mouth. Please. I want -- mmmn -- you to taste me. I want to taste you...
Please...
[Wakatoshi, practically out of his chair now and on the edge of reason, has to force himself back down.]
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[The first time Ushijima's cock pushes into his throat, Sakusa nearly gags. He tears up immediately, but swallows upon contact, pushing through on effort alone. It's an intoxicatingly delightful burn, and one that is over before it begins.
It's beautiful, watching Ushijima come undone for him like this. He's a man so sincere that there's no other way to interpret his choked moans, his trembling thighs, his knuckle-white grip. Sakusa smirks while drinking it all in, not out of some sense of felling the infallible Ushijima, but from knowing that every delicious squirm and heave is his doing. He's accomplishing what he set out to do, and that is, for the first time perhaps ever, topped only by the sight before him.]
Of course, dear. Whatever you want.
[Sakusa kisses the leaking tip of Ushijima's cock as sweetly as he'd peck his cheek, and ensconces the head with his lips for a final time. Carefully tucking his teeth beneath his lips, Sakusa nods up and down the shaft, devouring Ushijima's cock in two deep inhales and tonguing at the bumps and ridges in tickle-soft strokes. He doesn't intend to stop until Ushijima's screaming his name this time.
Ushijima's trembling is so intense that Sakusa has to hold him down with both hands. His strength as a spiker proves an unexpected asset as he's barely able to restrain Ushijima from the waist down, and even then Ushijima's movements are spirited enough to jostle Sakusa's mouth and shoulders. Sakusa likes it better like that, the challenge of taking Ushijima apart enough to roll his eyes into his skull and make his hips jerk.
Sakusa's normally so controlled and precise, but he loses himself in his and Ushijima's body shivering as one, tongue sloppily swirling, rolling, and flicking as he tries to suck an orgasm out of his lover. He looks up through thick, dark eyelashes, eyes hooded in a lustful look that's equally focused and dazed. Ushijima looks, feels, and tastes so perfect like this, hot and hard in his mouth. He moans around it again, swallowing to hug all its width in his velvety soft heat.
It's not long before Sakusa sinks himself far enough for Ushijima's cock to push into his throat again, but this time he's more prepared, familiar with his own pace and the rhythm of Ushijima's hips fucking into his mouth. It's welcome, even, and so Sakusa closes his eyes, relaxes his jaw, and lets Ushijima fuck his face. He swallows along the girth diligently, little grunts of, "mmh, mmh, mmh!" barely sealing the spittle and precum drooling between his lips and down Ushijima's cock.
It should be impossible for Ushijima to get any thicker, yet his penis throbs in his mouth and Sakusa moans around it. He's close, Sakusa can tell. Their bodies rock in tandem at every thrust pushes against the back of his throat, and Sakusa swallows each and every time. He has to hold his boyfriend by his thighs just to keep his head in place, but the inertia of his movement keeps ruffling up the apron as Sakusa lets himself get face fucked. With Ushijima begging so beautifully with his words and body, Sakusa would be willing to give him anything.
Sakusa's moans grow erratic and loud as his mouth fills with the first taste of actual cum. It's alkaline and sharp, something that Sakusa revels in for its pristineness. The burn is intense, but nothing that Sakusa can't manage, especially when the cum starts pouring into his mouth as Ushijima roars beneath, above, and all around him. Sakusa holds him in place to drink him down, determined not to let even the smallest drip slip away from him. He sucks and sucks until Ushijima's thighs settle beneath him, and then he sucks again.
Sakusa pauses, breathes through his nose for a few minutes, and swallows down the remaining, sucking as he pulls off and then licking any residue off the shaft. He licks his own lips next, a small, "mmm," escaping him before he pets Ushijima's cock, gives it a kiss, and then tucks him back in with a zip. Sakusa remains kneeling between Ushijima's legs, leaning his sore jaw on one of those thighs, his voice mingled with a satisfied hum.]
Did you enjoy yourself, Wakatoshi?
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He doesn't remember the moment his orgasm truly begins or when it ends. Vaguely, he recalls his hips bucking and Sakusa kissing his dick, tongue and lips and all, before his trembling thighs are held down and the rest of his body jolts in protest, at first, then surrenders to the welcoming heat of Sakusa's mouth. He trembles all over, dick pulsing as his hips move up for the last time. Then it's too much and something within him crests, and he lets out a strangled sound, mouth open in a silent scream as he shoots his load and pumps his lover's mouth full.
He collapses back onto his chair, barely aware at that moment that he'd even lifted off of it, a panting and sweat-drenched mess. Though his eyes are halfway open and lifted towards the ceiling, he can't see anything except brilliant dots and the overhead lights. He's out of his mind, half out of his body, with relief flowing through and out of him.
Sometime after the numbness throughout begins to fade, Wakatoshi feels -- rather than sees -- Sakusa peck him and put him away, prompting him to glance down through the bangs plastered to his forehead, sticky with sweat.
Fuck, he's so beautiful.]
Haah...
[Chest still rising and falling so fast that it's downright embarrassing, Wakatoshi averts his gaze, attempts to sit up straighter. (And fails, on both counts.) His hand reaches out, cupping Sakusa's cheek, the thumb stroking across the shine of his lip and over his chin, fond and careful.]
...I did.
[The huskiness of his own voice sounds foreign to him. Nevertheless, he smiles, continues to stroke his lover's cheek.]
Didn't...realize how much I needed that. Thank you, sweetheart...
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You're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. It's my duty to take care of you.
[It could be taken as play, but it's more fact than fiction. He takes his role as a boyfriend very seriously.
Sakusa shifts position to kiss the fingertips and then begins tilting his jaw to get Ushijima to pet him exactly where he wants it, smirking all the while. Knowing that he's brought Ushijima to this point brings a smug grin on his lips, but it twitches at the name. Not in a bad manner, no, never. To the contrary, Sakusa looks away, his lips flushing from a blush. He'd thought the names would stop as soon as Ushijima came, but he's reminded of how hard he is with the simple "sweetheart". It makes him want to smile out of endearment as much as it makes him want to frown out of embarrassment.
Opting to focus on getting himself off instead of how Ushijima might have converted him to his kink, he slides up and takes a seat on one of those strong, muscular thighs. It puts the apron on full display, complete with a tent right where his hips are.
Sakusa's not sure if he should keep the play up, but it's hard to think when he's ready to be ready. He leans in and kisses Ushijima's ear, giving it a quick nip.]
My turn. I'm in your care.
[He guides the hand that had been resting on his cheek beneath the apron, grinding it over his hard-on.]
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As he squirms around in his slumped, seated position and tries to regain basic motor skills -- that orgasm was too much too quick, apparently -- Wakatoshi allows his hand to continue petting Sakusa's cheek, the fingers caressing against the blemish-free skin and curling around the curve of his jaw with care and affection. Like he imagines a husband would to his doting wife. It's a sweet and heartwarming moment.
So, of course, Sakusa takes that opportunity to deposit himself right onto Wakatoshi's lap. It's not abrupt or surprising, but it does make him grunt out loud. Sakusa is lighter than he is, sure, but he's no waif, and Wakatoshi just came...
Instinctively and without a second thought, his large hands come up to Sakusa's waist, then trails down to the hem of the apron where they rub admiringly against the ruffles and fabric. It's of good quality, probably wouldn't rip unless Wakatoshi really tried; probably expensive, too. He wonders if Sakusa had purchased this for practicality or if he'd been curious enough to try something new with it on. Knowing him, it was simply to avoid getting the clothes beneath it dirty. Even so, it's worth every yen.
He sighs through barely parted lips as Sakusa guides his hand without protest. There's the unmistakeable bulge and his fingers wrap around it as best they can beneath the warmth of the apron's fabric, offering it a firm squeeze, plump and hot, against the calluses of his left hand.
His head tips back just enough so that he can peer through his lashes, trying to make eye contact with Sakusa.]
...kiss me.
[Rather than take what he wants, he waits for Sakusa to make the move. Somehow, he doubts Sakusa will -- he's even betting on the rejection. Kissing after swallowing every drop of someone's cum isn't exactly commonplace. It might even seem dirty. Wakatoshi doesn't mind, but he's curious...]
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Sakusa slips the hand from the apron to properly feel up his man, murmuring quietly as he cuddles closer. Ushijima is comfortable to begin with, so it doesn't take long to get cozy and even less to respond to the warm, firm touching between his legs. His breath hitches while he massages that broad chest, acting just as much the part of spoiling the husband as it is him feeling up his boyfriend.
When Ushijima asks for the kiss... Sakusa stills. His instinct is to say no, of course. But this is Ushijima asking and if he's staying true to the role, he shouldn't refuse... So Sakusa might willing to entertain it. Still needs to properly remind Ushijima of the facts.]
Your penis was just in my mouth. I don't need to remind you that I swallowed.
['My mouth is gross,' in other words.]
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[Fantasy or not, if Sakusa doesn't seem keen or simply doesn't want something, then Wakatoshi won't push for it. There are plenty of other ways to enjoy him, after all. Case in point: the way Sakusa's dick pulses beneath his fingers as he strokes him, none too gently, beneath the skirt of the apron, from root to tip; the way Sakusa tries desperately not to moan and breathes out hard against the heated, flush skin of Wakatoshi's neck.]
...if you do not want to, I wouldn't be offended. You're right, after all.
[He doesn't think Sakusa's mouth is gross. In fact, the words 'Sakusa' and 'gross' don't belong in the same sentence, unless said sentence is something to the effect of Sakusa is never gross.]
As long as I'm able to keep doing this...
[And by this Wakatoshi means jerking him off. Pretty tame compared to what they were just up to, but the fact that he's doing it beneath an apron skirt makes it a little more scandalous than it otherwise would be. His thumb circles the leaking head of Sakusa's cock, smearing the pre around then using it to slick his fingers up.]
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Had he said no, it wouldn't have been such a significant moment, and for a second, Sakusa's mouth is open with, 'shame on you, that's gross,' ready to fall out his lips. The words get choked as his hips stutter into Ushijima's hand, what he was said replaced with an involuntary moan. It's Ushijima being sweet, offering him a blameless opportunity to opt out; it's the shameful and earnest way he agrees that yes, it is gross but had asked for it anyway; and it's his exclusive focus on Sakusa's pleasure, like he knows exactly how to take him apart best moment-by-moment.
The moan turns into an annoyed scoff, directed at himself for turning into putty just from Ushijima's honesty and respect. Besides, he can't think straight when Ushijima holds his cock like something precious. Sakusa's cock jumps within its confines.
It would be safe to kiss Ushijima. More than that, in this moment, Sakusa wants to kiss his stupidly respectful words right out of his mouth. He'd want to suck his dick too, if his jaw hadn't been sore from doing just that.]
If it's what my dearest wants, then...
[He slides his palms to rest on Ushijima's shoulders, tilts his chin a little, and pauses. He remains wordless, but his cheeks heating up fills the silence. As silly as he knows it to be, he has all the butterflies in his stomach of a first kiss. It's not their first kiss by far, but this one is a first of sorts. Normally he'd roll his eyes at such things, yet Sakusa puckers up with a shy smile.
It's like their first kiss: a little off-center, slightly breathless, and too intentional. At the same time, it's all new; Sakusa knows to part his lips in that way they both like, and he takes it a lot slower, letting his lips linger and drag between breaths. He knows to follow up long kisses with a few short ones now, and the novelty of a first-time paired with fond experience has Sakusa squirming in Ushijima's lap just as impatiently as the first time Ushijima had kissed him until he was hard, breathless, and wanting.
When he finally pulls away, his pout is demure but sated. The blush has overtaken every part of his face, but the look in his eye is focused. A line of saliva shared between him dribbles down his lip until his tongue swipes at it.]
Do I taste like you?
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