Off The Map
Title: Off the Map
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst, drama, romance, one-shot
Pairing: Saga/Tora
Summary: Rainy skies may only clear for a moment -- but it can be the best moment of your life.
See I'm so far off the map the sun is shining,
While it's raining and I'm draped in silver lining.
And I can row, row, row my boat back to shore someday.
So are you coming with me?
Anchors aweigh.
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“You have got to be fucking kidding me! I’m sick of this shit Saga, sick…of…it.” Tora’s voice reverberated off the walls for the level of agitation he had over the topic that seemed to plague their personal lives. It was like a clinging illness that wouldn’t relent its hold over its victims, but it didn’t quite warrant medical attention or even useful rest. In that moment, as Saga scrambled for words more in rebuttal than vengeful retaliation, he was suddenly dumbstruck with the fact that he didn’t even remember what had led to their bickering to start with.
It seemed as if every step they managed taking forward led to three or four steps back and, as Tora scowled at him with fierce eyes and irritation written on his face, Saga floundered. Every small tussle between them led to an argument and there were so many of them at this point that he hadn’t any idea what got them to where they were now. It was enough that Saga wanted nothing more than to step forward and verbally push Tora just so he would speak again. Just hearing the sound of Tora’s voice, even when in rage, was a soothing reprieve to the silence and confusion webbing his brain in sticky befuddlement.
It was like moving through molasses as Saga replayed the words over and over again in his head. It was a fuzzy sort of existence where noises and movements were dramatically slowed so that, perhaps, he could catch a glimpse of what they meant. His mind trudged through the thickness in his head and he couldn’t come to an answer to his confusion. He couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to say or even what Tora had last lashed out with. He blinked as he tried to remember, in any capacity, what they’d been fighting about. Was it of something as simple as a forgotten chore or as catastrophic as neglecting one another? Even the possibilities were lost on Saga as he found no solid memory of what could simply be the cause this time. He held his hands up defensively and then let them fall to his sides in quiet defeat. The gesture only irritated Tora all that much more and he turned, like a raging bull, and stomped from the room.
It wasn’t the first time this sort of exchange had occurred and it wasn’t one Saga wanted to suffer again. He was somewhat flighty and often easily distracted. Saga was soft and whimsical in his ways and liked abstract concepts. That played heavily against him when Tora’s logical and somewhat abrasive side came to fruition. Tora was not intentionally mean; in fact, he wasn’t even aggressive. Tora was playful and often full of energy that countered Saga in ways neither really ever comprehended. They simply accepted that their chemistry was inexplicable and simply fit. But chemistry didn’t carry a relationship on wings of gold through perfect sailing skies; its a combination of many things that extended beyond the blissful bubble that they existed in because of their love.
It was a culmination of external stresses that put strain on their protective bubble. Saga felt it weigh down on him, sagging in places he couldn’t quite comprehend, as he watched Tora’s back recede away from him. As if the walls of the bubble itself could no longer stand the pressure coming from outside. Even the love that constructed their foundation weren’t strong enough to prevent them from caving forward. Every moment of anger and of aggravation just placed more and more weight against something not strong enough to carry the load. The safety net that surrounded them was strong in many places but equally as weak in others.
Saga saw Tora disappear into a room elsewhere in the small apartment and a moment later, he could hear Tora’s melody even with the wall between them. Saga’s eyes brimmed with tears that weighed heavy on his lower eyelashes. They were little orbs of their own, embodying everything that made Saga’s soul hurt in his chest. To pick up his guitar and pluck the strings in whatever rhythm his heart felt like was a measure of solace for Tora. That much Saga could appreciate; it bonded them on so many occasions though, right then, it separated them from one another. It was the level of song, the way it bit into the air matching his lover’s discomfort, that hit Saga’s heart like a hot dart laced with slow acting poison. The guitar’s voice was sharp and ached against Tora’s fingers as he commanded the instrument with practiced and skilled digits.
It was as he listened to Tora’s song through the cry of the instrument that Saga came to understand something pivotal. The bubble of love that they’d been in, safely cocooned, hadn’t just weighed down - it burst on them. They were once again in the world beyond their safety and as Saga stood, proverbially dripping in reality, he felt free. It was as if he’d passed the point of sanity and was removed from all the troubles in their relationship and the pressures of the outside world.
Saga, right then, wanted nothing more than for Tora to be just as free with him.
The fight didn’t matter. In fact, none of the prior fights mattered anymore; they were petty and clearly unaffecting as Saga had already forgotten their existence. Nothing was of importance to Saga, in his distant place, as he had surpassed all the daily troubles of life and simply living. He wanted to love and be loved, to transcend the banalities of life in order to reach a state of existence he and Tora had shared before arguments consumed them. Beyond that, Saga had already washed his hands of any lingering effect such hostility had on him.
Some might have said he snapped, but Saga felt oddly calm. The tears seemed to dry automatically and he was refreshed as he stood and listened to Tora’s melody. It was a physical representation of the lover he couldn’t see. He was unbothered by it, simply taking in the sound and relishing in the familiarity as it if those very notes were touching his skin and tickling his body. Saga was certain, beyond any doubt, that all he needed in his new epiphany was Tora. Together they could make anything work, so long as they were interwoven in the travels it would take them on.
When he finally convinced himself to move, Saga said nothing. He merely slipped into the next room where Tora had disappeared to. Saga was sure he’d retired there out of habit as was well as comfort. His lover was seated with the guitar against his leg, a picture that made Saga’s heart melt for how perfect it was. It was ironic how moments before, the guitar represented everything that was negative in the moment and now it was a part of Tora that endeared him to Saga all the more.
Tora sat up straight at Saga’s arrival; he had even opened his mouth to comment on the sudden intrusion, but Tora’s open mouth gave Saga a location to place his. He allowed for no hesitation as his lips collided with his lover’s. It wasn’t delicate and graceful as Saga often was; instead, it held every intent Saga had. He expressed it the only way he knew how as the taste of Tora’s lips gave him a charge of electricity to fuel his actions. He’d barely fumbled to get the guitar out of Tora’s hands before he was draped over the other man’s legs in the chair as if he were a blanket, sized and fitted exactly for the guitarist beneath him.
They’d been physical on many occasions, regardless if those times dwindled within the last few months or seemed obligatory when they did happened. Something sparked in Saga that drew forth the passion which once brought them together and, as he leaned into Tora for another more feverish kiss, he was reminded of the heat that passed between them when they let nothing but raw emotion fuel their desire for one another. He could look back and remember the moments that they’d timidly admitted they were attracted to one another and he could even pinpoint the second he was sure Tora was prepared to give him a chance to show him that they were compatible.
Saga’s nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons on Tora’s shirt and in a fraction of a minute, he had the thing open. His hands slipped around the fabric of the open shirt and ran the smooth surface of the Tora’s bare chest. Saga knew every divot and dip in Tora’s body, the way his skin was taut against his frame that made him so very alluring. But as Saga ran his palms against the surface of his soft skin, it was as if each touch was a new adventure he was experiencing. New places to explore and memorize to the point where he could navigate them with his eyes closed. He pressed his hands more firmly against the guitarist as his fingertips dug into the flesh that wrapped Tora’s ribs, as if to cling to not just him but the mere idea of him. Saga’s breath caught slightly as he felt Tora’s lips catch his lower one and suck hard, encouraging Saga’s dominance, in approval. Under Saga’s groin, he could feel Tora respond accordingly. Torrid blood filled both their pelvises and their integral instruments swelled against one another.
Saga had no intention of stopping. His body commanded his actions and no part of him was ready to relinquish the feeling that raced across his skin and tingled his spine downward to the tips of his toes. Tora’s hand had moved to lure Saga’s intention to fruition; the bassist felt his lover’s finger press against the swell in his pants, massaging with firm pressure to entice Saga’s plump groin. It worked and a surge sent a ripple of bumps across his skin and he sank his knees further out on either side of Tora’s thighs to accommodate his action. Saga’s lips broke from Tora’s and a small, breathy moan escaped him as his head dipped back on his neck. He relished in the sensation of his lover’s hand exploring him through the fabric of his pants, kneading him to peaks of pleasure.
There was certainly stimulation to be had there and Saga gasped a little, to express that measure of delight, but he wished for nothing more than the invention of clothes to be entirely eliminated for their purposes right then. He was so enamored with the sensation of Tora’s attention to his heavy, yet confined, unit that he missed the dexterous fingers - agile from years of delicate guitar work - both unbutton and unzip his pants. The second Tora’s fingers slipped between the fabric and against Saga’s flesh, the bassist chirped and jumped slightly. He was entirely unprepared for the contact but he recovered with ease by lunging forward and capturing Tora’s lips again. This time rougher than the last. Their tongues danced against one another and Tora pushed at the cloth that hugged Saga’s hips with his free hand.
It didn’t take much, particularly with Saga’s squirming to help, to get his pants down enough that his shaft was freed from the confines of its cell. It was in their motions, the lust and the franticness of their actions - both mutual and necessary -- that the longing for passion was reawakened. Excitement was revisited and accompanied by fervor and spirit. Saga’s stint off the map, in a new place, where he determined they could rediscover themselves with no boundary, was on him again. He could feel it in Tora’s fingers, taste it on his lips, and understand it in the unspoken words.
Tora’s slim fingers closed around his member and Saga felt like he was on fire from the heat in Tora’s hand, which was matched only by the sultry nature of his rigid member. Tora had never had trouble getting him excited and Saga was not shy enough to be bashful for it. He was comfortable exposing his arousal for his lover as if it was proof for how he felt for the other. He pressed his hips forward a little, encouraging Tora to feel him, which the other did readily. Tora’s hand moved expertly over Saga’s bloomed head and weeping stem with gracefully skill fingers that brought shudders to Saga’s trembling thighs. It took all of Saga’s focus and effort to pull himself out of his lover’s grasp, but he did so with intent. His mission, at that point, was to get them out of their clothes.
The articles of fabric fluttered to the floor like bits of wrapping paper on Christmas morning and acted as a trail of sorts to the two perfectly nude bodies wrapped together in angelic harmony, connected only at the lips. Their skin, the curves of their body, and the way they fit together seemed to be a mold for all things ideal in the world. In one swift motion, Tora had swept Saga around the waist and turned them so he could press the narrower framed man into the chair he’d been sitting in previously. With no resistance, the bassist sank into the cushions of the chair and watched Tora melt down to his knees in one fluid action. It was with anticipation for what was to come that Saga took in a shallow breath that hardly prepared him for the warmth of Tora’s mouth wrapped around his rigid member. He writhed momentarily before he was able to press his back firmly into the soft padding of the chair. His fingers caught the chair’s arms and burrowed into its frame to give him leverage in his fight to keep from thrusting against Tora.
He could feel himself pulse in Tora’s mouth, excitedly, as if each thump, causing another engorged swell of his arousal, matched each pound of his heart. He let his eyes flutter close, simply enjoying the complete, encompassing and surreal sensation that flooded his head like a warm rinse inside of his skull, washing away all the negativity he’d housed in there for so long. He was vaguely aware that his voice responded to the feeling, but only because he could feel it vibrating off the back of his throat as Tora drew his expertly practiced lips up his fully length. The metal stud through Tora’s lip tugged on Saga’s delicate skin but only served as more of a means to stimulate him rather than by discomfort as it might seem. With every velvety lick and hug Tora’s tongue made around Saga, he slid further down in the chair, his legs as wide as he could make them go as if that would keep Tora from pulling away from him.
Saga, however, didn’t want to relish solo, independently of the pleasure Tora should share in. In fact, the purpose of the exercise and the bonding was that Tora was meant to come with him. He wanted to scoop his lover up and bring him along on the same boat that was headed for a blissful horizon. Therefore, he had to gather all of his consciousness and will power in that moment, gasping in little breaths, to force himself to slip up and away from Tora, his shaft bouncing slightly from the sudden change in angle. He was fearful that he’d reach an end he was far from ready for; particularly without the mutual trek of his lover. Yet he didn’t waste time as he stooped low to press his lips hotly to Tora’s, tasting bits of himself mingled with the sweetness of Tora’s mouth. As they shared raw passion between their tongues, Saga gripped Tora’s shoulders before he slipped from the chair. He knelt before Tora, using the confined space between them as an unnecessary excuse to press their bodies close together. His lips faltered, in his excitement, against Tora’s lips when he could feel their erections pressed against their bellies for how close they were to one another.
Saga seemed to melt like butter against Tora’s body as he encouraged him backwards, against the ground that would work as a perfect bed for them. Saga’s hands slipped around his body, caressing all of Tora with a fever in him as he seemed to attack his lover’s form, drinking it all in with a new energy he’d discovered only moments before. He grabbed hold of Tora’s wrists tight, drawing his arms up over his head so that he was entirely at Saga’s mercy.
The fact that Tora's strength likely outnumbered Saga's was beside the point as Tora was content to be pressed into the ground as he was right then. A slim smile crossed his face, slyly as he tucked his chin down and offered Saga a narrow eyed glance of coy longing. Saga assaulted Tora's lips and when their stripped chests met each other again, Saga's body slipped against Tora's due to the thin sheen of sweat that coated both of them. It made a smile pass Saga’s lips and he proceeded by biting lightly onto his kiss-swollen, pouty lower lip. His attention was on the feel of Tora's equally solid arousal caught between them, pressing against the flat of Saga's stomach. The bassist pulled his body down, rubbing his narrow lower belly against the heated surface of Tora's member, all in an attempt at provoking and exciting him. His efforts paid off as a low, pleasured growl escaped between Tora's lips and Saga paused only to slip his hand around Tora.
He had equally skilled hands. He knew how to handle the chords of a bass but had his own expertise, personally with his own body and that of a lover, for the knowledge on how to handle a stiff and puffy erection. Saga knew Tora to weep and it was with that knowledge that he squeezed and gave a few firm tugs as if to draw that warm juices from his lover. He smiled slightly at his success and drew his fingers up the shaft and caught the bubble at the head of Tora's arousal, which he gingerly rubbed across the pads of his fingers. It wasn't enough, not to prepare Tora like he knew he needed to. He glanced down at his own firm unit.
He leaned back enough that he could balance on his knees and, with his free hand, stroked himself, drawing forth the same natural lubricant. His tongue ran across his upper lip as he gathered it too against his fingers and slicked them the rest of the way. With a single thrust he dipped a finger into Tora. The man groaned and it was clear that, though he might be uncomfortable at first, he enjoyed it. Saga took a few moments to gently explore Tora's insides taking care to stretch him as he did so, readying him for what was to come. Though it wouldn't be their first time, it was still a matter of keeping him as comfortable as possible and as ready as he could be. Saga's lips found Tora's again and he leaned in to press a second finger inside of him. He did so only briefly before replacing his finger with the length of his shaft, which he buried slowly into Tora but with one attempt, all the way to the hilt so their bodies were flush.
It was a rush similar to the first time they'd been tangled in sheets and each other's bodies. It was a warm, familiar and comfortable sensation that enveloped him; but, in it's own way, was new and explosive. Tora's body held Saga's erection firmly, hugging him from all angles. His head finally caught up with his body when Tora thumped his hips against Saga's and got the bassist to move; which he did, slowly at first and then with a little more fever than before. Each thrust filled Tora as much as Saga possibly could, and Saga's hands slipped up Tora's arms and their fingers laced in an effort to express affection and give Saga leverage. It was when Tora tipped his hips back that Saga's eyes shut before he could consider that he'd done it, where he was able to reach depths he hadn't been able to before.
Tora squirmed under his lover, for Saga's new angle clearly had attained access to Tora's prostate from inside his body. His legs dipped out a little further and Saga settled even more comfortably and deeper. Both had gotten to a point that their breath was coming in sharp little gasps. Saga could feel a bead of sweat trail down his cheek and gather at his chin before it got heavy enough to drop off from his face. Tora's bangs were matted to his forehead in an array of black spears. Nothing could truly beat the euphoric feeling that was mounting in their pleasure. Every thrust and every harmonic moment was pushing them that much higher, to a world Saga felt would get them to mutual freedom. With one final push from both partners, Tora reached his end first, bringing Saga quickly with him.
Tora's hot juices covered Saga's belly as he himself emptied entirely into the guitarist with a feeling of sheer release and ecstasy. Saga didn't care much about the viscous liquid between them as he collapsed against Tora's heaving chest. Tora's arms looped around the leaner man and held him for a moment, lightly stroking the skin on his shoulder as both tried to gather their breath. It was a sweetly exhilarating feeling; the sort of perfect solace that Saga hadn't felt in a very long time. As if Tora could read Saga's mind, he spoke so softly that Saga would have missed it if Tora‘s voice didn‘t capture all of his attention. "Takashi...no. This is goodbye. It wasn't a start...it was the end."
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So the moral of this story is that in our hiatus, we learned how to write porn. =^_^= Kidding of course. However we did get some writing practice in on the topic and figured we'd test it on you guys as an audience for how our craft is coming along. This story was inspired by a song called 'Off the Map' by Alkaline Trio in which we get a really good picture of what one side of that narration thinks; however we don't get the other's perspective and that's what drove this story. We hope you liked it! And we'd be delighted to know what you think. Thank you so much for reading. - M & J