[Ebizo, Kaoru] 007
Notes: Kaoru and Ebizo reunite after the U.S. The Rose Trims Again tour, for a night of Bond and masculinity and fucking. It starts off wonderfully, but doesn't follow Ebizo's plan for the evening. Sort of split into Kaoru picking Ebizo up, them going out to the club, and their evening follows. Next morning=next post. NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!
Tokyo cooperated with him tonight. The night was clear and cold, but no skin touched it; the rain the forecast had threatened for tomorrow wasn't even a hovering promise in the air. From head to tow, Kaoru was black; the bike was black, and together they were a burnt streak of dark around street corners and up to the curb. It roared, a violent purr of masculinity between his thighs, and beneath his helment his lips were unable to keep from their curve.
Ebizo's doormany had the same look of vague dismay the bike tended to give him; used to Kaoru's appearances but not to it, quite yet. Kaoru let the engine purr, a satisfying rumble beneath him and he set one foot down, leant his head back and pulled the helmet free to shake his hair loose.
American sun had been cold this year, and so he wasn't dark, like when he came back from festivals and heat; the cold had left him pale with the flush in his cheeks, eyes sharp and already finding Ebizo's figure. Those small lips spread, just-barely parted, enough to be hungry.
Ebizo was good to look at, handsome as he was, fit as he was; fabric silver and black and he wanted to take it off, already, but not before he'd relished how he looked in it.
Fucking missed him.
They weren't taking his car tonight.
Ebizo's smile crept up and he bit it down, looked through the mainly glass front door of his apartment building to the dark man on the bike from under the brim of his hat. A fucking rebel stared him down from under wild, touseled hair as long as he fucking wanted it to be and as Ebizo's tongue touched tipped to and under teeth, it peeked secrets at the way he imagined it'd be to grab a hearty handful, pull him back and kiss him as hard as he looked. Kaoru stood there with growling machine between his legs.
Night air rolled off him, left flushed skin behind burning and his hand spread on the thigh facing him, private between their coats and he no longer felt the ache in his feet. A bat winked from beneath layers of finely woven shadows. "Nine on the dot."
"I'm punctual."
The words breathed off of his tongue, misted in the air, with a dirty enunciation layered somewhere in those innocent words. Kaoru was good at that.
Ebizo looked good. He was touching him and it set him on fire; he was close for the first time in more than a month and it made him fucking burn.
He looked good. He smelled good, felt good; the heat, coming off of him. Kaoru tossed his head back a bit, reached back with one leather-gloved hand to pick up the spare helmet he had brought.
"You look good." They would be overdressed for the theater, but in the club, they'd glow. Fuckin' glow. "Get on."
"I bet you are," was purred warm and he listened as was as much attention as he could pay to sound when Kaoru's lips kept shaping round words.
Dragging his fingers up thigh, he gave hip bone a squeeze through all its layers and he had to fucking remember that they were being watched.
He'd of felt the first utterly personal ramification and realization of what a homosexual relationship meant if it weren't for the overwhelming and pleasant desire to bend Kaoru over his pretty bike and fuck him until he screamed. When Kaoru screamed, his whole body siezed up and the way his back arched was fuckin-
Ebizo blinked at the helmet, let go of Kaoru's hip to take it. Helmets weren't particularly cool, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. He was in the mood to-"You look good too. Do I get to know where we're going or is it a surprise?" He took his hat off and plopped the helmet on top of his bald head. Freshly shaved.
With the grace of a samurai long gone, he loped a leg around the Bike, settled in snug against Kaoru with his hat held between chest and back. His mouth ached with the smirk as he slid hands around to grip each other low below Kaoru's bellybutton.
He loved watching him move. There was so much grace bred and trained into those muscles; a measured strength, a traditional threat in him that made Kaoru thrill. So much in Ebizo made Kaoru thrill.
Fucking... Kaoru leant his head back, hair tumbling back over his shoulders, laugh on the air as those hands slid around him, and lower-- as if the bike and the sight of him alone hadn't been enough-- and he said, voice just loud enough Ebizo could hear him through the helmet, "Movie first. To get us in the mood."
He hadn't said he missed him yet, but each word he let fall was vibrant, brimming with anticipation and an evening thoroughly planned. Kaoru's lips spread dark and he lifted his helmet to slide back on.
"Hold on," he said, and the bike, which had never stopped its throaty purr, roared back into action and away from the curb without warning.
The ends tickled his face and for that second, he was awash in musk and Kaoru and he squeezed Kaoru's hips gently. A helmet dropped down over him and Ebizo, dizzy, asked, "What movie?"
Kaoru made him dumb.
Sudden jerk and his feet scrambled onto the bitch's foot rests, bent and dependent knees flanking humming machinery. Ebizo ducked closer for a second, only a second, and then he was watched the road rush at them over Kaoru's small shoulder. Wind screamed past his ears, whipped his clothes and he laughed out fucking loud.
---
The lights in here glowed on Ebizo like they had that first night, and Kaoru stared at him until their martinis had been slid across the bar and into small and strong hands, different levels of artistry, of power. His ink caught the shadows and the nudity of Ebizo's features, the freshly shaven smoothness Kaoru didn't let himself run a hand over until they had been in the theater, in the dark. A whole tour he'd spent, watching Toshiya's smooth half-a-scalp grow back to fuzzy again, and wondering in the back of his mind how far Ebizo had gone, if he could feel it yet or if it would be no more than sandpaper, like his jaw against Kaoru's in long nights.
Missed him.
Those lights he had traded for darker corners, secluded booths, and it was Kaoru's job, he decided, to buy the drinks tonight, as with the tickets at the theater. He walked back from the bar, third trip, but only his second, because he had to keep reminding himself he couldn't get drunk. Not if he wanted to feel the wind against them and Ebizo hot at his back.
Setting the drinks down, he slid them over the tabletop to Ebizo as he slid back into the booth, vest hanging open, shirt unbuttoned enough that his tattoos were shadows-in-the-shadows through, and his lips were spread with tipsy charm, lit his eyes with eagerness.
Spread back in the black, backdoor booth, his fingers dugs mooncraters in the leather cushioning as Kaoru wove back to him through the club. Everything hung loose and tight, black and silver, blank and filled to the brim with ink. His arms were spread, lined the back of the booth's curving back with silvered sleeves and unadorned hands. The club was pulsing tonight. Busy was good, busy meant there were enough people to distract everyone else, to keep everyone else busy while Kaoru slid through them, drizzled back through with that 'fuck-me' expression he'd lay awake at night thinking about.
His lover.
His lover rode motorcycles, mutilated his body with needles that left behind murals and rings, grew his hair long and thick and wore sunglasses at night. Now Ebizo had a pair latched in the right pocket of his jacket and the taste of a nipple adornment in the back of his throat.
Legs slid uncrossed, two feet to the floor as Kaoru came back and Ebizo's grin was starting to hurt his face. Fedora tilted at an angle an R&B star would envy, he said, "You gonna shake that or stir it?"
Kaoru laughed loud when he was drunk, or overcompensating. When he was just tipsy, it spilled out on the edge of volume, unthought and unchecked and free to be natural. His knee slid over the cushioning; his body twisting to fit slim inside the booth. His fingers dragged over the condensation on the glasses, reached out with damp fingertips to touch the spread of those lips, unthinking, and with a laugh.
"Which would you prefer?"
Thick smile pressed back to that fleeting, cold touch. In spite of the chill, Kaoru warmed him.
Light pulsed to the shaking beat of fake drums, of the kind of lifestyle Ebizo only pretended to lead and, instead, only listened to on the radio. When Kaoru was in his car, the radio was off.
"How about you shake it for me for a while and then I'll stir you slow and hard when we get home."
Kaoru wasn't sober enough to manage not laughing, so he gave up, shoulders hitching under fine black fabric, peeks of tattoos as he threw his head back and settled in the booth near him. Not next to him, not girlfriend-next-to-him, but close- the sort of close of clandestine lovers, the intimacy of two people whose sexuality could fill the space between them even if they didn't. His knee hit Ebizo's beneath the table, slid just in enough so that thighs could touch, and Kaoru raised his drink to his lips and swallowed.
"You're ridiculous," he said, but it was an exuberant 'ridiculous', with shining eyes he didn't take off of him. "I don't shake it. You shake it. In that hat." He reached out, dragged his finger down the brim to pull it into Ebizo's eyes.
"I shake it?" Ebizo laughed through a soft mirth, watched the way Kaoru fucking sparkled. Ebizo picked up his own drink, knocked back a mouthful because he was a man and that's what real men did. Ebizo nudged his hat back up with his middle finger, leaned close until the brim skirted Kaoru's hair and said. "You want me to shake it for you?"
Irrepressible didn't even begin to cover it.
"I can't," Kaoru said, shoulders beginning to quiver with withheld laughter; with the smirk that spread his lips, "can't even begin to imagine."
His hair caught on the brim of Ebizo's fedora and tangled there, dragged against it and they were close now. He hadn't looked this man into the eyes like this in months. A hidden kiss, in the black of a movie theatre, didn't count.
His heart was racing, in a thrill, and he felt sexy reaching out an ink-soaked forearm from underneath a rolled up sleeve and letting his fingers tap their way down the buttons on Ebizo's shirt.
"You been back here, since you met me?"
Buttons pushed into his skin one at a time, like a countdown to the opening of a bedroom door. Ebizo licked his lips, smoke through the quirk in his mouth. "No need to come back here, since I met you," was the closest he could come right now to saying I love you.
Knee to knee, thigh to thigh, normally his current paramour would be in his lap, would be kissing his jaw leaving lipgloss behind and he'd lean in, whisper...
Not yet. It wasn't the time yet. Instead, he chuckled and said, "You think I can't dance?"
Kaoru didn't need euphemisms; his eyes lit, charm-won, and his smile softened in a minute way, intimate and eyes-locked. And belonged to him.
"Me neither. Though I probably wouldn't've been able to get in, anyway," and his laugh bubbled up into a smirk, into a mischevious toying with the first-done button on Ebizo's chest. Pushing it through the buttonhole without paying attention to it, just working at it, only semiconscious of the effort.
"Dance in a not-kabuki way?" he said suspiciously, quirking an eyebrow.
"That so?" and it wasn't a question. not really, as he looked down to be unable to watch the way Kaoru was making his neck kerchif loosen up white from where it was tucked into black.
He cupped Kaoru's bent elbow briefly before wrapped back around his drink, lifting it to take another deep taste. He could hold his alcohol. "Dance in a non-Kabuki way, yes."
His fingers freed that scarf step by step. The button he finally conceded as undone, and he slid his hand to touch the scarf, to pull it slightly out, one inch at a time. Silk in his fucking palm. If he were drunk enough it'd be a turn on; as is, it made his breath catch. His eyes watched Ebizo's throat bare a bit as it loosened, and he gave it a light tug, laughing. They were still a safe distance apart.
"Really? Like a pop star? You look like you could be one. Th'hat."
"No, not like a pop star. Like a god," Ebizo corrected with white teeth. Air seeped cold to his uncovered skin and he felt really, suddenly sexy.
And for one strange moment, he couldn't tell who was toying with who.
"You like my hat?"
Ebizo's throat looked tempting. It was like unwrapping a present, that first peek through carefully folded back paper. He had to break his eyes off, look up to the aforementioned fedora and lean his head to the side judiciously.
"I do," he said, deciding; the corner of his eyes and mouth turned up with pleasure. "I told you, you look like a pop star. Like you could be on MTV, crooning something about making love and spinning around."
"I don't need to be on tv to do that. And I dance like a god, baby. You should believe me, you know how I move." Kaoru was radiant, his eyes shining all on their own and Ebizo, watching, hoped it was because of him.
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty good in that regard myself and trust me when I say I can't dance at all." Kaoru's lips twitched; he curled a scarf around his palm and gave it another playful pull, drawing Ebizo into him, reversing their incline, who chased who; he toyed with the end of it and raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen you dance. I don't know if I should believe you."
Something about the flow of that tug was too natural to fight it, strange though it was. Ebizo was still smiling, but he wasn't the predator. Not yet.
"Have I ever lied to you?" was asked with a playfully tilted head, mouth twisting at the corners.
It felt good to have Ebizo at the end of this silken leash. Kaoru's eyes shone with playfulness, flirtation, approval. His lips were open as he breathed.
"I dunno, have you?"
He reached his free hand across them, to lift up his glass awkwardly and drink before leaning back in the seat, loosening the hold to toy just lightly with the edge of the leash.
"You're breaking my heart, Kaoru," came the laugh, a small shake of the head but he never took his eyes off his man.
That silk was shifting, snaking around and dragging against his skin into the palm of his rockstar's hand. Beneath the table, Ebizo crossed one leg over the other.
"Is that an answer?" Tease. He pulled. Fucking tease. Kaoru wanted him. He loved how Ebizo said his name, how he looked at him, how he made him feel. It made his pulse race and his walls crumble down.
---
He'd had more than Kaoru, was on the verge of something more than tipsy because he didn't have to drive tonight. Tonight he rode behind his boyfriend on his boyfriend's fucking sexy motorcycle. Explosions, guns, violence, fucking, alcohol, dim lights, heavy beats and Ebizo's hat was tilted low on his forehead to hide all but his mouth as he grinned when he looked down at the keys he fumbled from his pockets. Stab stab stick and he turned the corner, turned the mechanisms deep in the knob to squeak, spread joints open and a door swing.
"Get in here," mumbled laughingly, a hand on the back of Kaoru's neck as he stumbled sideways into his apartment, dragging his dark love in with him. He hit the door closed with an elbow, didn't feel the sting. Hands crept fast to cup Kaoru's face as he rushed Kaoru's body, open mouthedly sucked on his bottom lip. "I wanna fuck you," mumbled against the jaunty skyline of bottom teeth.
Tonight, Kaoru didn't think. There was alcohol and violence, motorcycles, men, one man, his man- and thinking had nothing to do with it. There was the place they met, except tonight the darkest booth was theirs, and the washes of red and blue in slow, throbbing pulses didn't coat them and color them for each other, only tint and glow, only touch upon their private flirtation, their slips of palms, their laughter losing itself drunkenly for a moment, just a moment, in a mouth on a mouth. Drink it fucking up. Ebizo tasted like liquor and Kaoru didn't mind that he couldn't go too far, that he could only follow him those first few drinks in, because then he could be the one to sit back, and to watch another man fall under his spell.
And he didn't have to fucking think.
He had dipped his fingers in bluetoned glass and dragged them wet across Ebizo's lips before they left. He'd been lit on fire by how that mouth followed his hand, like a dog to its master. Kaoru had breathed "good boy" and walked ahead of Ebizo on the way out of the club, because he liked the feel of his eyes on him, and knowing that wherever he moved, that man- that fucking gorgeous man, in his expensive, designer clothes, with his actor's voice that could create a pitch for Kaoru to come to, to feel in his blood like Toshiya's bass- would follow him.
Ebizo's body slammed into his and he was alive already, had been since the feeling of Ebizo's strong arms tight and low around his hips as machinery roared between his legs- had been since the club, had been since he'd laid eyes on him that night, waiting for Kaoru to scream his way into his life. He arched up underneath him, sinew and tour-aggression, slid both hands up to grope for a hold where there were no reins, fingers sliding up underneath the back band of a fedora and letting it tumble to the ground, shaken. Fingers spread, pull Ebizo down to him by the head, and Kaoru was already openmouthed and gasping, back arching off of the wall, body contorting itself up into him, and the hold he held as his arms wound around Ebizo's neck was more than just wanting, more than simple possessiveness- he owned him.
"No," Kaoru said, voice dark and obscene, lips on lips and he wanted to fucking smash him down and love him, pull him by that scarf around his throat until he whimpered for Kaoru to fuck him, "No, baby, not tonight."
Kaoru wrapped anaconda around him, strangled him closer and Ebizo grunted onto Kaoru's tongue. He let go of Kaoru's face, reached down to dig through coats, push them up until he grabbed fistfuls of lean waist. His rockstar bent to him, shaped to him and he pulled Kaoru into him, molded around and over him. "No? No?? Mm, I'll change your mind. You won't get a wink tonight, sweetheart, not one itty bitty wink."
He would never grow tired of how Ebizo could surround him.
But Kaoru's head fell back, gave his throat as his lips spread darkly in the air. He breathed in, deep, let Ebizo lodge in his chest and let the ache and starvation stab through.
He fucking wanted him.
Kaoru's laugh cracked in the air and he sucked hard on his mouth, took it as his own and breathed onto his tongue, "Baby, if you think tonight's going to end any way besides my cock in you, you're wrong." His hands slid through Ebizo's coats, the layers of it and jacket, and that scarf that was made to tempt him was cinched.
Dirty words from a dirty boy and Ebizo was tipsy enough to smile first, to nip at his lips and draw gibberish on Kaoru's tongue. Then words began to sink, take on meaning and Ebizo pulled him closer until their hips unevenly matched. Teeth cracked and he mumbled, "You know I'll blow you anytime you want, you don't have to be coy bout it, we're big boys here."
Ebizo was young and naive and didn't understand.
Kaoru's fingers dragged down from the smooth surface of his head to the nape of his neck, slid into a scarf and pulled it hard with both hands, jerking Ebizo down to his level. He had him now, mouth to mouth again, but he wasn't kissing, only breathing into him, letting their words, breath, tongues tangle. His lips felt swollen.
They had kissed in front of people tonight. No one had seen, no one had known, it was too shadowy and too brief but in it Kaoru had staked his fucking claim. And he wasn't going to relinquish it.
"I didn't mean your mouth," he said into it, dragged his tongue over his lips and that scarf was wrapped until tight around his palm, and he slid his body back from that hold and press, let himself lean flush to the wall and when he pulled Ebizo, drunk and offbalance, to him. He wanted him to fall, wanted him dependent. Wanted him.
Alcohol tripped up his feet, gave him in to that scarf and that man with too much confidence in his smirk to be trusted. Ebizo's hands slammed stumbling into the wall beside Kaoru's body, his own falling into his guitarist, hips to bellybutton. Words swirled in his head I didn't mean your mouth blinking, blurring, Ebizo's haven in the crook of Kaoru's neck and he kissed collarbone, bit collarbone.
Not his mouth.
Not his... mouth.
"What?" muffled, mouth full, Ebizo raised up to focus wide pupils to Kaoru's eyes.
Ebizo loved his throat with that mouth of the ages and Kaoru wanted to own it. Everything in those drunken, clumsy gestures; every smile and touch and laugh and fucking glisten of artificially red-blue-pretty club lights on smooth skin made him, tonight, fall in... obsession.
Obsession and maybe more but tonight wasn't a night for thinking. It was a night for roaring motorcycles and espionage and a kiss, a hungry kiss and lingering hands underneath tabletops, on thighs, on hips, on each other, while the world went on around them.
And Ebizo was his. He felt triumph as that body fell on to him and needed him and Kaoru's lips split wide, he was able to look down at him now, as his body was pinned and wanted against the wall, and wrap his arms around his shoulders and neck as he murmured, "Inside you,baby, mine."
Couldn't trust a man that confident because he was usually that man and he couldn't be trusted. When he smirked like Kaoru was smirking, he took home ragamuffin rockstars and fucked them against walls, fucked them in showers and fucked them in beds and called them up and dressed them like secretaries and spanked them and fucked them on his desk. Couldn't be trusted to keep a one night stand to one night, couldn't be trusted to love a rockstar's body more than his heart, couldn't be fucking trusted to let a man rest after cumming all over his face.
Now he was drunk and shaken, hands weak without coordination as they clung to the wall empty of Kaoru and his smirk, knees bent and digging into drywall as he panted against Kaoru's neck and closed his eyes. Inside you...
Inside him.
His world was spinning round round, disco balls drenched in rainbows shooting from every direction, spinning round round.
Ebizo was fucking beautiful.
His eyes closed and before he hid in Kaoru's ink Kaoru could see the smooth planes of his face, the structure of artists bred in there, the poetry that was painted there during the day and washed off at night for him, for Kaoru, to take over.
He bowed his head, panted in his ear low, hungry and "I want you," hands sliding down from Ebizo's neck to wrap fistfuls around that scarf and he pulled himself up wtih Ebizo towards him, their bodies contouring around each others, defined against. Ebizo's suit was fucking glorious, pale and he could feel him through it. Kaoru's shirt was overpriced, black and fine and bared tattoos through the gaps where it was unbuttoned to center chest; he dragged with that scarf Ebizo's mouth down to them, and leant his head to kiss the center of his lover's bare brow.
"You're mine."
He was more inebriated than he thought.
Been too long since he last got trashed, lost his tolerance, lost control.
Couldn't find the coordination to move his legs and run away.
"Kaoru," rebalance to feet, hands free now to touch him, to touch his neck and listen to his lover's pulse with his palms, over the pounding in his head.
"Baby," balance, name for name; endearment for endearment; his lips slid down and breathed, "Ebizo" in his ear. His leash was tightened, silk tight across his knuckles, and Kaoru was on fire and his lips deviant, taunted his ear with voice and tongue and he pulled as his body shifted, slid, turned them with Ebizo under his hand in direction, and with a few soft steps around Ebizo's unsteady feet, it wasn't his back on the wall anymore.
He leant up and kissed him, hard, hard enough he felt his swollen lips ache. Part of him didn't need the liquor to want to crawl into Ebizo's lap tonight, had been dangerously close to giving in in that dark corner, in the place they met, as music throbbed with their bodies and lights colored them both in between the shadows in the colors they'd met in, red and blue. Which of them fit which role; who was the hero and the villian? His lips curved up at the distracted idea, turned his brutal kiss into a smile against him and Kaoru fit his hips against Ebizo's and rocked into him.
He was on his back before he was conscious of the movements, hips grinding too satisfying to be flustered by and he wondered for a second, for a brief second, if this was how he made girls feel. Made Kaoru feel.
Sickness left him static-sighted, so he closed his eyes again, moaned soft into Kaoru's mouth around gasps, hands grasping and cradling Kaoru's neck as if to pray for forgiveness. Instead he swallowed hot faced, rocked his hips against Kaoru's.
Fucking beautiful. Fucking hot, fucking his, his actor, his prince, his spy; Kaoru's own stranger in the bar, who came over, bought him a drink, and changed everything.
The love in it made him open to Ebizo, swallow his moans and gasps and give himself; and he looked up at him through lidded eyes as their lips paused to breath, before reconnecting. Fingers were sliding down that scarf to shirt, to buttons that needed, needed, to come undone, because Ebizo having clothes on was wrong now, as expensive, flattering, gorgeous as they were. He loved watching him in the club, as the man drank and laughed and leant in close, fucking hot, fucking beautiful. And all his.
His fingers dragged through the buttons with too much haste and one went flying.
Kaoru wanted him.
Ebizo's head tilted back, collided with wall and he swallowed cold air in their heat. Small fingers tore through his clothes, flirted with his sensitive chest and he shivered, spread hands to Kaoru's small shoulders, felt the man burning.
Break through the last and it whispered on the floor somewhere and Kaoru didn't care, didn't know anything but that now the shirt was hanging open and he could slip his hands inside. Fingertips staked their claim along his ribs, fit around him and Kaoru's mouth moved down to center chest. Illustrated skin broke through silver and gray and black like dipping into a river, let the fabric flow past them as he reached in and needed. Fine rosebud mouth sought out a nipple, closed gently around it and explored. Ebizo worked out more, was masculine and strong and fierce and Kaoru could barely breath just for being this close to his skin, the muscles of his abdomen rising and falling with breath. One urgent hand pressed to his stomach, dragged down, fingers seeking out the grooves between the muscles and ride the natural flow of his man.
Cupping cheeks, spreading to slip into hair, squeeze, stroke, rub scalp, hold, hold him.
But he couldn't look at him.
Ebizo closed his eyes, wanted to breathe. Kaoru's mouth made him twitch, hips search. Sparkle down his bloodstream, engorge the part of him that wouldn't care, make it eclipse the part of his heart that still felt.
Masterful hands slid into his hair and held him to Ebizo's heart. Fingers that could move within an eighth of an inch and know what each degree meant, that could take one tired dark-haired man and wake him up, make him with those fingers, that mouth, let go and give himself.
Kaoru closed his eyes, lips parting around Ebizo's nipple to breath in an unsteady breath, and he wound his hands around his waist, pulled those hips firmly against him and drove them both back into the wall, slow and aching movements, drawn out to make it sweeter. He smiled as his lips rose to rest against his heart.
Kaoru felt good.
Come up for air.
Falling down, messy and trembling, he pulled at Kaoru's buttons as Kaoru fucked him into the wall. "Aahh..." to dark hair that didn't taste like a stranger.
Ebizo's voice could fill rooms and tonight it was just for him. It saturated the air around him, buried itself deep under his skin; lanced through to groin and heart and Kaoru's knees nearly buckled. He almost laughed at himself, as he leant heavily against Ebizo for that moment; sucked his mark his on his throat and drove his hips against him in a primal, unifying rhythm; you have to be able to stand up, if you want him, and Kaoru steadied; slid his hands to grip at his belt and fumble with it. Fucking belts; he hated fucking belts, why did he buy them and wear them all the fucking time when it was just going to make it harder for him to take his pants off, too?
Kissing Kaoru's ears, wanting to say stop and instead he moaned, instead he pushed back, wanted to fuck. Peeling black back from shoulders, down forearms and he couldn't get farther than that so he moved, groped Kaoru's inked chest. This wasn't going to be like- they weren't going to fuck, right, not just going to fuck because they couldn't get to it, right, couldn't-
His voice--
The first night and Kaoru wasn't used to feeling wanted. Feeling wanted, all of him, not just a good-lookin' guy that'd do that night but like someone could look up from him from expensive futons, as Kaoru's bare feet stepped out of his clothing on hardwood floors, and love it. Come back to it, keep it, call it lover and heart and now, as Ebizo's hands peeled back layers and bared him, Kaoru didn't think about how he looked, didn't think about what Ebizo might think as those broad male palms grasped at dark-stained and soft skin, because he was wanted, loved, and Ebizo had made him feel that way.
Kaoru's heart was pounding; his body felt too small for the want in him; his fingers won over the leather belt and pulled it free, let it drop to tangle somewhere on their feet and his fingers slid into the openings of buttons undone, tugged down zippers romantic and he breathed out his name, and murmured under layers of moan and lust the word love, buried in it in his throat and it didn't matter if he had heard or not because he was already raising his lips to kiss him.
Their tragedies tonight were numerous and Ebizo didn't hear, didn't understand other than Kaoru's mouth was taking his breathe away. Shining eyes shut, his hands down, running down slim and natural sides to his hips, to where he could pulled waistband down and get impatient, ditch nudity for fulfillment and dive two-handed into Kaoru's underwear and wrap two-fisted around Kaoru's warm cock.
Ebizo had been beautiful drunk; it was strange to see without the same benefit. His eyes alight, color in his cheeks. His motions all just a little more than they needed to be. His kiss that much more honest. Kaoru was thrilled by it, charmed by it all over again like the first night, like each night since.
He grinned now, against his mouth, as his lover's impatient hands demanded of him and with an open-mouthed gasp into his lips he thrust into those demanding hands.One hand braced girlish demand on Ebizo's hip, let his fingers slide into the sea of silver again, search arousal out and he was slow, sure of himself, drew out the touches he knew Ebizo liked, that always made him gasp.
Kaoru's pulse was so steady, so strong, doubly echoed through him with both fists he could cover him all. Up and down, hard and fisted, Ebizo's lips chased Kaoru's when his lover leaned away. The faintest brush and Ebizo was leaning into it, asking for it. His rockstar teased, went slow and his body rocked, rolled sinnuous against the wall as he tried not to rut.
This wasn't so bad. This wasn't going to get bad.
They'd cum in each other's hands and then Ebizo could drag him to the bed, hold him while they slept.
Grinned, grinning so that his face ached; he bit his own lip to restrain it and then bit Ebizo's, sucked and provoked, and his flush was charmed. Fuckin' charmed. Fuckin' love, spy games and drink and motorcycles and love and the urgent and demanding and endearing way that Ebizo grabbed at his cock was fucking hot.
He panted outloud, mouth open on him, tongue delving into his mouth to taste his territory, mark his territory, and he moved his body when Ebizo's did, when it stretched and rocked like a cat, between him, his fingers and the wall.
A squeeze, a bribe as he rubbed him hard, and sucked on his tongue. Distractions, win him over as a small hand slid carefully along Ebizo's hip, slid around behind him, took a good enough hold of empty beltloops to pull him sharply towards him on a thrust, kiss him deliriously and turn him to face the wall.
Ebizo was drunk.
He fell over his own feet and had to catch himself with sweaty, precum slicked hands on the wall. It'd leave stains; his hand prints, half the fingers missing, forever on this wall. He'd see it them everytime he came in, everytime he left, no matter how hard he scrubbed.
Forehead hit and he kept it there, rested there to try to breathe as the shock of impact rippled through his heavy body. He wanted to sink to the floor, melt into the floor and sink, sink, sink to hell but his knees caught on the wall and kept him up. His skin sucked at the air like tadpoles to bubbles and his eyes were closed.
Kaoru lay next to this body at night and let his hands move over the planes of his back and wonder how the hell that first night had even happened. He'd been just drunk enough, just sober enough, to give in without giving up, to let himself take without losing control. Without running away, gasping on the street; waking up and there was Kyo and they were both sick for different reasons.
The night he met Ebizo could have been like that night, if only so many things hadn't fit together right.
In feverish gratitude, in an honest surge of absolute fucking love, he pressed himself to that stronger body and kissed his throat, kissed his ear, whispered his name, "Ebizo" delirious, wanting, passion choking him "baby," breathed, kissed again, and Ebizo had slipped and their hips aligned. If he had been standing up straight, it wouldn't have worked. Kaoru could have laughed again, dizzily. Just like that first night.
Everything right.
His underwear was caught on his dick and pants slipping down his hips and he mumbled "One second,baby," humped against him in slow pulses, in a loving press of his body against his lover's, and let go to drop, kiss his back through the open jacket as he went and his fingers were fumbling at the floor, at hte jacket dropped only a few feet away in the entranceway, where he'd been prepared. Fingers slipping, eagerly fumbling; Ebizo against the wall so fucking hot and trusting and his and he would be careful, he would treat him good. He wanted, Kaoru thought, with a giddy rush, as his fingers found the small bottle of lube in one of the pockets and fumbled the cap, to make Ebizo feel like he made Kaoru feel, to make Ebizo feel on top of the fucking world on top of him.
His face hurt, his heart ached, with how good it was.
Hard cock that he'd sucked, bobbed his head on, swallowed cum from, hard cock he'd nestled his cheek to and squeezed his hand around, hard fucking cock pressed against his ass and he couldn't fucking breathe.
Kaoru whispered his name, kissed him and whispered his name and loved him and when Kaoru fell away, he swallowed down a sob he was too tipsy to understand as such. But he did understand that his knees were weak, were pinned to the wall like butterfly wings and he knew what it was to press to the wall executioner-style and wait for the cold metal at the back of the head, the trigger, the bullet, the brains bursting free and the waiting, the waiting for this and the complete, total way it would end.
Ebizo licked his lips, bit them, felt sweat roll down his back and stick his shirt to his skin.
Kaoru was crouching on the floor with his pants barely holding on to those slim hips; fingers buried in a leather jacket that smelled expensive and like the night air, like dark clubs, like smoke and motorcycles and his boyfriend behind him; Ebizo made a noise agains the wall and his head fell back, eyes closed, smile to the sky.
"Coming, baby," he murmured, pushing himself up, fumbling with hands on knees and lube open in his palm; he staggered up, one hand slamming into the wall by Ebizo's side and he was in again, close again, lips sweet on his ear and he whispered, "Here, baby, I'm here. I'm here for you," and he smiled against his cheek, nosed against him kittenish and sultry; panted softly with open mouth and a scraping of teeth on whatever skin his lips touched and whispered "Mine, my Ebizo, my baby," wet, soft, adoring kiss and he tugged at Ebizo's pants, already open, unbelted, easy to slip. Fumble with elastic as he kissed again; murmured "take off your jacket" as the bottle squirted slick on his free hand's fingertips, slid fingers to just so lightly, so barely, begin to slip between cheeks.
His body swayed in small ways with Kaoru's tugs on his clothing. Ebizo yearned into the kisses but couldn't speak, couldn't tell him to stop, couldn't tell him he was going to be sick, that he didn't feel right, this didn't feel right. He moaned soft, wished Kaoru understood him and gave in. Weight on his forehead digging into wall, his shoulders rolled back and he pulled at opposite cuffs. His jacket slid down, fell and draped over Kaoru's wrist.
Gray shone as it collapsed over Kaoru's dark wrist; he smiled against his cheek, dark hair tumbling over Ebizo's shoulder as he leant in to kiss soft and hard in turns along his bones, his cheeks and jaw and the corner of his mouth that he could reach. A motion forward, their bodies hard together; the jacket slipped away, finally, joined belts on the floor and Kaoru's shirt was still hanging off of his wrists and he reluctantly took that ghost of a press back to let it fall. Naked chest to Ebizo's hot back, the fabric clinging, and one hand slid up underneath theblack to rest on damp, masculine planes as his fingertips slid down again, still wet, close enough now and they pressed against his opening as Kaoru whispered in his ear, "Mine," slid gently inside.
Couldn't.
fucking.
breathe.
Ebizo turned, turned into that hot voice. That voice was his comfort as Kaoru pushed inside of his body, as Kaoru didn't hesitate and Ebizo wanted to be forgiven. Back arched up, hunching and protective as his head dropped, hid. He crossed his arms against the wall, cradled his head as Kaoru finger fucked him, as Kaoru played with his guts, stuck them in a blender.
Ebizo was virginally tight around his small fingers, and Kaoru's heart was pounding. His lashes scraped Ebizo's neck as he took that cheek, those near kisses away; he breathed out a shuddery, whispery moan and his hips rocked against his hand-in-him. Fingers slid deeper, hooked and stretched.
He kissed the arch of Ebizo's shoulder and murmured, "Good, baby, good?"
"fuck" muttered harsh through bitten lips and arms. The desire to cry was sudden and strong, like the crash of a tsunami, and he blinekd it out, he dug teeth into his arm to wade it out. Everything was warm, was coppery and he closed his eyes tight. "N-nnh."
Kaoru was starry-eyed obsessed. He wanted to pin him and fuck him, hold him hard against the wall and fuck him blind, leave him gasping and aware of who he belonged to; he wanted to be slow, be gentle, be sweet kisses and tongue and whisper words in his ear he had barely the cognizance to imagine, but that escaped him in whispery, fragmented thoughts anyway. Between the two, and he leant in to kiss his throat, rest his mouth warm on his ear and murmur his name, murmur adorations and nonsense in a shuddery gasp of his voice, and he slid another finger in alongside, a caring hand bracing on Ebizo's bare hip.
"Good," he breathed, "baby, you're so good..."
Fingers forked him, fucked him, hooked and tore into him and Ebizo was too drunk to be seized with saving tension. Instead, he broke down, held desperate to his arms and the wall with his teeth and sheer will power. Kaoru's voice was a steady stream at odds with the protests raging inside of him, at the siezures that shook him. Ebizo focused on that as much as he was capable of, focused on Kaoru's sounds and occasional kiss.
Hook, line... white, white hot, blind static and the rise of sensation to the very brink of every hair his body still possessed. Must be- he couldn't breathe. He shook hard and could. not. BREATHE.
"There."
Kaoru's voice was in Ebizo's ear, private shades of soft. Shadow nights and sheets, the memorization of each others' beginnings and ends in the dark, guided by their fingertips and mouths. Kaoru knew this body. He ached for it. His chest pressed to Ebizo's back, so he could lean in and whisper to him in that voice, just for him.
"There, beautiful," a kiss, soft and shuddery, and he knew where to curve his fingers, how hard to go, "you're beautiful," and he only had eyes for him, cheek to his shoulder and hair tumbling over Ebizo's throat and the sliver of his face that he could see, tucked down.
Fucking beautiful.
This wasn't him.
Kaoru's chin barely made it to sit on his shoulder, dig in gentle as he kissed, as his hair laid soft, sweet on him. Kaoru's fingers jerked about inside of him, made it impossible to see and he listened to himself moan, listened to himself gasp weakly and he hated himself. This wasn't him. Kaoru made his body quake and his cock drip, his hips begin to humiliatingly rock and this wasn't him.
He was the inheritor of the name Ebizo, the intended inheritor of the name Danjuro, very nearly the only royalty still existing in Japan besides the Emporer's family and his lover was fingerfucking him in the entryway to his own goddamn apartment.
Alcohol made him sick, made his eyes boil as he buried them in his arms.
All his.
That voice; this pose, those fiercely strong shoulders arched. Kaoru posessed this, the curve of his spine, the roll of his hips. He breathed him in and closed his eyes and whispered softly, "Fucking beautiful.
Braced one hand hard on Ebizo's hip, he gave him a few more moments before his fingers slid slowly away, body moving in closer, close enough to fit, to guide himself wet to press between cheeks and he kissed his cheek, murmured adoration, mine and yours; his breath ghosted softly along Ebizo's jaw and he kissed him, again, as he slowly pressed in.
Not one sound.
Ebizo tasted blood and something smeared against his cheeks, caught between cuffs and flesh and this shirt was ruined. Pants skidded the rest of the way down, hit ankles and he pressed his head hard into the wall.
Not. One. Sound.
Shaking.
Kaoru was shaking, was quivering, lips open and breathing in the heat and sex off of Ebizo's skin, but he couldn't find words, reassurances, gentle touches to sooth him into this. Not yet. His vision was full of closed eyes dark and glimpses of Ebizo's skin, the strain of his throat; he was surrounding him, tight, close, and Kaoru loved it, loved it, slid himself to fit his hips to Ebizo's with no breath between. Fingers grasped at his hipbones, groped small and obsessed down his abdomen, and Kaoru finally breathed out when he was fit inside him, let out a shudder near moan, against Ebizo's ear with lips open and wet, and he shook against his back for a long moment before he whispered, "Tell me when you're ready," and stroked his free hand down the center of his chest.
He wasn't sober enough to formulate thoughts for his feelings, couldn't put together the words to say he was sorry if he had ever hurt anyone like this. Kaoru, he'd of said, I'm sorry.
Most of him ached, offset by the strange pulsing of pleasure still echoing in him, still lingering. Kaoru made him ache too much to really feel, to really experience through the haze.
Alive. Beautiful, his, surrounding him, taking him; nights spent beneath this body and riding overtop of it, sometimes when they would just kiss and lay alongside, sometimes when his hand on his waist for half a second as they slid from public to private was enough to make his heart race. And all this was his Ebizo, was his prince.
He listened to him breath, listened to his body ache and wondered softly if he was his first.
Fingers slid up Ebizo's abdomen, ran gentle circles higher, rested over his heart and Kaoru breathed onto him, kissed him again. Fingers braced on a hipbone slid gently down, wrapped around him and everything was slow, soothing, gentle to soak him in the love that made Kaoru quiver at his back.
"Easy," he whispered, voice soft against him, loving, kissing, and Kaoru nosed against his throat, eyes closed while he held him. It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to move his hips, not yet. Give his baby a few moments to breath. "Easy," he murmured again, lips on him, "Shh, beautiful, Ebizo, love, lover, shh. Good...? Tell me when, baby, shh." Stroke, caress, love.
Kaoru's hands were coarse and moist, gently touching and pressed on his chest, pressed over his heart. Kaoru was breathing against him, *in* him, and Ebizo dragged a fist from the wall, laid trembling fingers over Kaoru's small hand. When he swallowed, muscles got caught on Kaoru's cock.
"Nnnh," whistling almost, nodding. For Kaoru.
Ebizo's hand was unsteady. Kaoru had to close his eyes, struggle to inhale. His heart squeezed tightly.
Small fingers sprawled out, laced with Ebizo's on top of his, held tightly to him and whispered, "Thank you."
He kissed Ebizo's cheek, pressed his own to the side of his neck and let out a voiceless moan against deltoids, mouth wet and hot on his skin and as his lover clung to him, he was lost. The hand that slid along Ebizo's length tightened briefly, with the expertise this man had given his clumsy juvenile gropings, the way he liked. Ebizo was his center and he began to move into him, hips rocking slow.
"Aahnnn-" Kaoru jerked his body forward, slow but enough, knees knocking silent into the wall, "uuughh-" it hurt, "Kaoru," it hurt.
Biting forearms, digging in deep as Kaoru dug into him, left his shoulders trembling under his expensive fucking shirt. Pleasure was fed to him, a saint's attendance, had he done that for Kaoru??? It hurt it hurt hurtshurts. Pride and dignity bled down the backs of his thighs and he wanted to die.
His name.
Kaoru's body trembled when Ebizo said his name.
breath against that virginal cheek, that strong jaw "Good," tongue hot, lithe, pressing wet to his earlobe, "Ebizo" fingers moving, stroking, encouraging him as Ebizo was so tight around him so fucking amazingly thrilling erotic fucking tight and he breathed into him "I'm here" and drove his hips in slowly, deeply, stomach quivering as he sank in to the hilt and drew back, again, again, "I'm yours," he breathed, "So good, Ebizo, so..."
Kaoru's hand was a lifeline. Without it, he'd of begged to be let go.
Ebizo struggled, struggled against the tears in his eyes and struggled to love Kaoru's cock inside of him. But he didn't and it HURT. Kaoru's voice was an incoherent stream of dark murmurs, touched him with his breath, his heat, his cock. That cock he had swallowed, LOVED so fucking much, devoted so much fucking time pleasing.
Kaoru was hurting him.
Rock, knees bruising in wall, lip bitten vicious and muffled, drunken moans.
Kaoru was on fire after the stage. He was thrilling and burning, eyes lit and hair a tumble of black and lips a spread of rockstar and when there was nowhere to pour that, he collapsed under the force of it and slept, woke up in the morning human again. But when Ebizo was there, when he was near, when he was that short drive or train or bike away, when he could find someone skilled and careful and bold and with that charming fucking grin to mold him while he was still hot, bring him to the edge, those were the nights he lived for.
Fucking lived for.
A tour's worth of nights alone had been molten in side of him and when he had driven up and seen those eyes and that grin and an expensive fucking suit and a scarf for him to pull on, just like he had asked, he had burnt for him.
He held tightly to Ebizo's hand, held it whiteknuckled from underneath, let his ink rub off on him soothing and stroked still, soothed, fucking adored and his hips were rocking into him steady, shifted to keep his legs from buckling with how fucking good he was and made love to him, fucked him, his boyfriend, his brilliant fucking prince, with a pounding heart.
Like a heartbeat. Thud thud thud thud thud. Twitching, constricting, throbbing, aching. Like being split in half, ripped apart and his throat stung.
It was wrong.
Kaoru's hands held him, loved him and he wanted to beg for mercy but what was done was done. "Nnhh-"
On the back of Ebizo's neck, Kaoru left his seal. It was personal, more precise than scrawling signatures; had in it the sharpness, the piercing of strings tearing into the night, and he kissed it when it was made, let his lips rest lovingly on the bruise and whisper endearments into it. "Baby," breathless, and his hips angled, rocked hard up into him; a gasp, a moan, "Ebizo, baby--" and he pumped him in his hand, let his hair fall into his face and drape warm against the back of Ebizo's neck. Kaoru kissed him there again, fucking kissed him, and wished he could reach his lips from here.
Cutting in hard and quick, Ebizo didn't feel the sting. It got lost in the agony between his legs, between his lungs. Kaoru was hot against his back, setting him on fucking fire to melt the ice lodged inside of him. Rock rock rock and when Kaoru moved that centimeter and a half to the left, fireworks. It was so brutually sudden, so completely unexpected that it almost hurt. Doubled, gasping, face pressed to the wall and his hand went lax in shock within Kaoru's grasp.
Thrust. Again. He was seeing white, then black then white and his body shook now for a new cause. Tears fell, twins in tandem and he swallowed hard but the pleasure wasn't going away. It was frying his circuits, numbing him to his torture and now, now he was terrified of losing the pain. The reminder of who he really was in all this chaos.
Thrust. Fuck. Gasps bled to moans, meek for a man whose voice filled national treasury theatres without the aid of microphones.
Kaoru knew this body, liked to think he knew this body. And when he felt it bow, tremble; felt those fingers go weak underneath his, he knew he was giving Ebizo what Ebizo gave him.
Gasp, lips spreading, smile soft against him and he moved his lips back up to his ear, breathed, "You're good, baby, so good, good--? Want me--? I'm here. I'm yours."
Kiss him, lips gasping on his earlobe, drag down and he wanted him to have an earring for him to pull on, because he loved when Ebizo did it to him, Kaoru's smile was delirious and devoted and his moving fingers held him to him, won him over as he filled him with each forward thrust.
Was he still a man? Was he still the man he thought he could be?
This time he understood Kaoru, this time Kaoru's words sent sparks off around the pulsating heat deep within him, this time the words made him want to run the fuck out the door. But he was here, he was Kaoru's and he was moaning for him like some sort of twink in a porn, selling his dignity for nothing. Who he was. Who he had the potential to be, if he only had the strength of character.
Soft tongue and hard teeth, Ebizo turned into that mouth as Kaoru reached deep into him, set of another sweep of ache and shudder through him.
Ebizo.
Ebizo.
So close, so hot, gasping, and Ebizo turned into him and Kaoru pressed his entire body into him, close; deep inside and his lips met those pale ones and he held him tight to his chest and loved. The sincerity of that press, the open gasp into him, his body pressed hard and he gently squeezed Ebizo's length within his hand, held his hand with desperate small dark fingers in the other, and loved him sincerely, mouth and cock and heart pounding hard against him.
They kissed with cold, open mouths, breathless tongues and Ebizo felt alien but now that was trumped, not it was overrun with physiological response and he let that take over because there was nothing else he could do about it and because he was drunk.
Ebizo's hips moved slightly, rocking now in tiny, tiny movements to give, to hope for and collided with Kaoru's hip bones. Orgasm was still a short while off; his body was just catching up, guided by the explosions Kaoru's dick was not setting off.
Kiss hungry, kiss desperate and Kaoru was short of breath. He held fast to him; pinned Ebizo between him and the wall and loved it; rocked himself deep and moaned into him. Their mouths were open in each other, gasping in each other and he was on his fucking toes, arousal shivering up the arches of his feet and down his spine. He was close; blindly, gaspingly, lovingly; he was near the edge, and his fingers tightened around Ebizo briefly, pumped him gently in his hand.
His back was going to hurt tomorrow from this. Next time, he thought, smile spreading into Ebizo's mouth, they'd lay down.
Shameless in heat, a man already broken and what was left pushed its ass back onto that cock, snuck the tip of his tongue into Kaoru's mouth until another deep thrust left him unable to concentrate on what his mouth was doing. Instead he was gasping, longing, fucking begging with the sound of his voice for Kaoru to finish them off.
Tight and that voice rising, breaking; he wanted to make Ebizo scream poetry for him, make him moan and when he got the glimmers of it he gasped, buried himself to the hilt inside his lover's body and rocked his hips, hard.
His fingers moved, tremble, urgent, and he moaned as that tongue slid away to gasp, moaned as he pressed his mouth to whatever skin was near and whispered, "Come, love, I'm-- come with me, Ebizo, please," and his fingertips hastened as his hips rolled.
At some point, unbeknownst to him, unheard of save for his heart, he had uttered, "Harder..." and thrusted back into oncoming hips. His body knew the rhythms, knew how to match and counterpoint without a single thought required. Kaoru's hand treated him well, treated him good and he was fucking him in a way that made heat waves drift, made him tremble and tingle all over. Naked and clothed, hot and clumsy, Ebizo depended on that wall to stay upright and Kaoru was going to get his wish.
"Kao...hru-" lost to his pale cuff, eyes closed so tight and orgasm crashed down unexpected, uninvited, unintended.
Kaoru felt him shudder, felt him beg and want him and tighten and he was gasping for breath and starry eyed, vision going but for glimpses of strong jaw and trembling muscles and he buried his face against him, mouth gasping on his skin; roving up, urgent, begging, open on his ear and he moaned Ebizo's name, let his fingers pump Ebizo clean and he let go of himself; rammed hard like Ebizo wanted of him and while he was fit so perfectly to that body he fucked him blind and came; spilled himself inside him like he had let Ebizo in him, clutched him hard back to him with that hand over his heart, wound fingers with him. He held Ebizo until his hips finished pulsing, until Ebizo had emptied himself and he had flooded him; until their vision began to return and his knees were weak.
Kaoru's voice was soft, exhausted, exuberant; a moan gentle and post-climactic, adoring in his ear, and he nosed against him and whispered his name.
Head hung, dick soft and Kaoru's cum warm, foreign inside of him.
Ebizo's breath shuddered through him, quivered from deep within to skin, to the time of Kaoru's sweetness that left him hot and cold. Ebizo squeezed that small hand, blind and he licked his lips too late; dripped clear to the floor. The sickness was still there, waiting for him as pleasure slowly drained away.
Ebizo squeezed his hand and Kaoru's heart skipped a beat.
He licked his lips, let his tongue graze the skin unshy in the motion. Nose against his cheek while they caught his breath; he was degenerating into kitten again, like he did, was prone to, in postorgasmic dizziness with someone who deserved it. His smile bumped against his jaw and Kaoru murmured "baby" almost distractedly, adoringly. Fingers slid softly away from his cock and rested flat on his abdomen, held him in that loose semi-embrace as he slowly adjusted his hips and they were two people again.
The kisses were slow, measured, adoring, along the channel of Ebizo's spine, as Kaoru fell back onto two feet.
He could still feel him there, the lingering whispers of him.
His shoulders shook.
His lover shook and Kaoru's hands slid up his front, loving, as he leant back against him, fit close, wet cock profiled against his backside, kisses sweet on the back of his neck. He wasn't pretending he could reach anymore.
"Shh," murmured, running his free hand over his abdomen in soothing circles as he tightened his hold. "You okay?"
Ebizo shook his head, said, "Yeah. Yeah. You?"
The longer he stood, the more terrified he became of Kaoru's cum dribbling out of him.
Kaoru's breath broke in the air; deep, soft, a shivery orgasmic laugh.
He kissed his shoulderblades and slid away, slid around him to the space between his lover and the wall and fit himself beneath him, leant up and kissed his lips in the dark.
"I'm good," he murmured into him, "I'm grateful."
He didn't want Kaoru to look at him.
Hands peeled from wall and chest, cupped Kaoru's neck and thumbs spread to jaw. Held, stroked, and he kissed nose, kissed forehead. Sigh and he smelled like alcohol because he was drunk.
Fucked, drunk, nobody. Nothing. Not a man.
"I had a long day... I'm tired. Sorry baby."
Sweet mouth abbreviated, but those hands cupped him like they always had and lips clumsy and drunk fumbled their way over his features. Kaoru closed his eyes, was relishing it when Ebizo spoke, and they flitted briefly open again to peer up at him curiously.
"Okay," he murmured, arms sliding around his middle and wrapping around him in a light hug, "'kay. Wanna crash? I'll," he laughed softly, nosed up against the underside of his jaw, "I'll carry you to bed, or fall trying."
Kaoru's hair smelled good. Smelled like it did when he woke up curled protective around him and wondered how long this would last. But it was different now, bittersweet.
Ebizo kissed him, tried not to think because his head was too watery and his stomach was having a panic attack. Lean into that hug, stomach to stomach. "It's ok, I can walk myself. I don't want to crush you."
"S'okay," Kaoru laughed softly again, tired, one arm staying in a stubborn loop as he sank from his lips and moved his own to the center of Ebizo's chest. "S'okay, baby, I'm heading that way, anyway." He laughed softly, the one hand that had let go rising to cup Ebizo's cheek and pull him into kisses. His face was damp underneath his fingertips and Kaoru's thumb rubbed against it, grazed eyelashes damp and he was startled but quiet.
It was sweat, he'd say, if Kaoru asked.
But he didn't even think to offer the excuse up, couldn't, was too drunk and mortified and post-orgasmic to think.
Didn't want to think.
"Good." Sweet kisses, tongue missing to make it chaste and he withdrew from Kaoru's hold, pulled his pants back up to his waist. And waited. Kaoru couldn't see the way he might limp.
"Just leave the clothes," Kaoru was content to let Ebizo slip away. It hurt the first time. It meant a lot, the first time. Whichever reason might have made Ebizo... cry, the thought was foreign to him- he wouldn't force out of him.
A kiss to him as he was walking past, and Kaoru shimmied a bit as he moved, didn't mind or think about Ebizo's eyes on his nudity, and he snickered.
"Leave 'em behind, I like you naked."
"I'll be naked in bed," came out quiet and he managed a small smile.
He was an actor.
But he was drunk. So he looked down, fiddiling with his belt until Kaoru's footsteps were far away. Then he was able to trudge pained and awkward to the bathroom. He hoped his bedroom was dark enough as he passed through it, shut the door quietly behind him. Lock. Hands on his sink and he leaned. Knees shook so he moved, pushed pants and underwear down to sit heavy on his toilet. Kaoru's cum was thick in him and he held his head in his hands.