Based On None But My Mistake. (X-1999, Subaru/Kamui.)
Title: Based On None But My Mistake.
Fandom: X-1999.
Warnings: None.
Characters/couples: Subaru/Kamui, so very much with the Seishirou/Subaru.
Summary: But the sudden hunger that brought thinking about Seishirou remains; making Subaru kiss Kamui a little harder.
Rating: NC17.
Notes: Written for springkink X/1999, Subaru/Kamui: First time sex - Live like it's the last time you'll be alive.
Based On None But My Mistake.
The day's too humid, too hot, summer heat raising over 34° Celsius degrees. Hokuto hated these kind of days, always complained about how they ruined her make up, her hair. Subaru thinks he can almost see her, twisting to glare towards the window as if that would stop the day from being so miserably warm, wearing a too short skirt and making plans about them going to the beach one of these days to take a nice, long break.
Nostalgia hits him so suddenly that Subaru has to blink hard twice, fingers itching to draw out a cigarette. The scars burn too, enough that he has to let go of the book he was just pretending to read. He glances towards Kamui, unsurprised that he hasn't moved, for all that the glare of the sun is right on him. He doesn't think Kamui has noticed it, not really.
Over the coffee table, the jar of lemonade Yuzuriha left for them before she went out sits untouched, ice melting inside of it, the jar wet with condensation and Subaru follows the track of a drop of it down towards the surface. The first aid kit sits by it's side and he avoids wincing as he looks at it, his right eye under the bandages.
It's been over two weeks since the last attack, and he wonders if Kamui is hoping for another. He knows better than to ask: Kamui would say no, immediately, even though Subaru thinks that if they are really as alike as it sometimes seems, Kamui would say yes.
Another chance to perhaps save his friend, and another chance, perhaps, to atone for his sins.
He looks back down towards his book, and hears when Kamui stands up, unsurprised when he gets close to him and sits by his side, and he lets go of his book and moves an arm around Kamui's shoulders with an ease that sometimes still surprises him. As Kamui leans against him, he wonders what Hokuto would say, if she would approve even if he's still not used to another human-being being this close.
But he can't think about that, not at all, because then missing Seishirou-san is something that dwells deep inside him, piercing his heart and mind.
“Subaru?” Kamui says his name worried, turning a little, concerned.
He's so sweet, Subaru knows, so kind. He smiles at the teen gently before he leans forward, brushing his lips with his own. This, at least, is familiar by now: the shape of Kamui's lips moving gently against his own, the soft warmth of Kamui's hand on his shoulder, the way he seems to melt over the affection of the kiss, never questioning it. The sweetness of the comfort both searched for.
But the sudden hunger that brought thinking about Seishirou remains, making him kiss Kamui a little harder, his arm still around Kamui's shoulders, enough to get him closer, half on his lap. The boy makes a surprised sound, gasping against his mouth and Subaru takes advantage of that, deepening the kiss, feeling the way Kamui's fingers twitch over his shoulder, clinging to him, and Subaru doesn't stop kissing the way he usually would.
Instead he presses Kamui down over the couch, swallowing the surprised gasp that threatens to break free. Kamui doesn't push him away, though, and after a moment he wraps both arms around his shoulders, pressing as close as he can, asking for affection once more, as if he was starved for it. Subaru knows the feeling pretty well: he moves his hand down Kamui's side, presses it to his belly, almost hesitant, and Kamui gives a low whine, holding him tight despite he bandages wrapped around his arms, making it difficult to pull apart.
Kamui stares at him, eyes certain despite the way his breath goes faster now. There is no blush on his face, though, just quiet acceptance and care, yes, but that's it.
“I've never,” starts Kamui, and of course he hasn't. Subaru kisses him instead of answering that he hasn't, either: he has kissed a few men, tall and dark as he has tried to delude himself, but it never moves from that.
And Kamui is as different from Seishirou-san as possible, feeling always too much even when he shouldn't, caring a lot for the people around him even though he tries not to. And as he unbuttons Kamui's shirt, the teenager makes hungry sounds for him and Subaru wonders if things would have been like this, perhaps, with Seishirou-san in his place and he in Kamui's, if Seishirou-san had been the man he said he was.
It makes him angry, to think about that, even angrier when his cock twitches at that, hardening more than with Kamui's sweet, confused hands touching him carefully, mindful of scars and bruises that are hidden beneath his shirt.
So he breaks apart, turns Kamui so that he's face down against the couch, hearing Kamui's gasp of surprise. He bites the back of Kamui's neck, tastes the sweat there and he hears him gasp again, his name this time but there is no denial there, not in the way he has stayed like that, hands splayed by his head but relaxed.
Something burns inside - his hands hurt, but he ignores it, tells himself he doesn't care - and he reaches for the first aid kit, searches for some lotion and when he finds some that they could use for this, he squeezes some over his hand, and if his hands are shaking he ignores it to, ignores the mess he makes upon the couch and instead focuses on the sweet, shocked sound Kamui makes as he traces the rim of his hole before he pushes a fingertip in.
He's so tight: Kamui gasps his name, eyes closed, and Subaru pushes harder, fucks Kamui with his finger before he withdraws and pushes in with two, twisting his fingers, hearing the way Kamui moans, feeling the way his body clutches at him. He can't stop thinking - it wouldn't have been like this, with Seishirou-san. Not with the Seishirou-san he thought was the real one. He shouldn't be doing things like this, making things harder for Kamui, and he should...
“Subaru, please, please,” Kamui asks. His eyes are tightly closed but he's moving, thrusting against his fingers, panting.
It takes coordination he doesn't know where he gets to get his trousers open, to slick his cock before he presses against Kamui, and Kamui makes a soft, hurt sound that shouldn't sound as good as it does, that shouldn't make Subaru ache for this as much as this.
He curls over Kamui's back as he sinks in, breathing hard against Kamui's sweaty hair. It's too hot like this, sweat clinging to his shirt and yet he can't do a thing but thrust again and again, can't stop feeling this, burning and hot and alive, so close that even Kamui's energy soaks into his, and he can't stop himself from wondering how it would've been to be under Seishirou, to feel the length of his chest against his back, to feel his cock inside him.
Kamui mutters his name, alive and warm and Subaru bites his lip, tasting blood; he clings to his hips tightly and feels himself getting close; through the haze over his eye he can see when Kamui moves a hand underneath him, can see the way his shoulder shifts as Kamui jerks himself off, and Subaru shudders hard, groans as he feels Kamui tightening around him and then Kamui is barely muffing a scream against the couch as he comes and he follows seconds after that.
He does his best not to crush Kamui under his weight, and he withdraws, sits on his heels and closes his eye. He almost physically craves for a cigarette now, and there is something like guilt that wants to blossom after this, when he sees Kamui doing his best to unfold himself, shifting slowly. It's even worse when Kamui gives him a small smile over his shoulder, worse when he barely finds it in him to smile back.
“I...” Kamui starts and Subaru interrupts him, shakes his head a little even as he leans close, brushes a kiss against Kamui's forehead.
“Go and take a bath. You were going to study with your friend, right?”
That makes Kamui's smile a little, soft and almost not there, but it's there as he nods and he stands up, not completely hiding a wince as he does his pants again, but not harmed at all. The boy doubts a moment before he leans towards him, brushing his lips in a kiss and smiling a little before he goes out of the room, and then Subaru lets go of his smile, reaches for his cigarettes, takes a long, sweet drag as he fishes for his handkerchief to clean himself up at least a little.
Let Kamui interact with those who are still alive, after all.
Fandom: X-1999.
Warnings: None.
Characters/couples: Subaru/Kamui, so very much with the Seishirou/Subaru.
Summary: But the sudden hunger that brought thinking about Seishirou remains; making Subaru kiss Kamui a little harder.
Rating: NC17.
Notes: Written for springkink X/1999, Subaru/Kamui: First time sex - Live like it's the last time you'll be alive.
Based On None But My Mistake.
The day's too humid, too hot, summer heat raising over 34° Celsius degrees. Hokuto hated these kind of days, always complained about how they ruined her make up, her hair. Subaru thinks he can almost see her, twisting to glare towards the window as if that would stop the day from being so miserably warm, wearing a too short skirt and making plans about them going to the beach one of these days to take a nice, long break.
Nostalgia hits him so suddenly that Subaru has to blink hard twice, fingers itching to draw out a cigarette. The scars burn too, enough that he has to let go of the book he was just pretending to read. He glances towards Kamui, unsurprised that he hasn't moved, for all that the glare of the sun is right on him. He doesn't think Kamui has noticed it, not really.
Over the coffee table, the jar of lemonade Yuzuriha left for them before she went out sits untouched, ice melting inside of it, the jar wet with condensation and Subaru follows the track of a drop of it down towards the surface. The first aid kit sits by it's side and he avoids wincing as he looks at it, his right eye under the bandages.
It's been over two weeks since the last attack, and he wonders if Kamui is hoping for another. He knows better than to ask: Kamui would say no, immediately, even though Subaru thinks that if they are really as alike as it sometimes seems, Kamui would say yes.
Another chance to perhaps save his friend, and another chance, perhaps, to atone for his sins.
He looks back down towards his book, and hears when Kamui stands up, unsurprised when he gets close to him and sits by his side, and he lets go of his book and moves an arm around Kamui's shoulders with an ease that sometimes still surprises him. As Kamui leans against him, he wonders what Hokuto would say, if she would approve even if he's still not used to another human-being being this close.
But he can't think about that, not at all, because then missing Seishirou-san is something that dwells deep inside him, piercing his heart and mind.
“Subaru?” Kamui says his name worried, turning a little, concerned.
He's so sweet, Subaru knows, so kind. He smiles at the teen gently before he leans forward, brushing his lips with his own. This, at least, is familiar by now: the shape of Kamui's lips moving gently against his own, the soft warmth of Kamui's hand on his shoulder, the way he seems to melt over the affection of the kiss, never questioning it. The sweetness of the comfort both searched for.
But the sudden hunger that brought thinking about Seishirou remains, making him kiss Kamui a little harder, his arm still around Kamui's shoulders, enough to get him closer, half on his lap. The boy makes a surprised sound, gasping against his mouth and Subaru takes advantage of that, deepening the kiss, feeling the way Kamui's fingers twitch over his shoulder, clinging to him, and Subaru doesn't stop kissing the way he usually would.
Instead he presses Kamui down over the couch, swallowing the surprised gasp that threatens to break free. Kamui doesn't push him away, though, and after a moment he wraps both arms around his shoulders, pressing as close as he can, asking for affection once more, as if he was starved for it. Subaru knows the feeling pretty well: he moves his hand down Kamui's side, presses it to his belly, almost hesitant, and Kamui gives a low whine, holding him tight despite he bandages wrapped around his arms, making it difficult to pull apart.
Kamui stares at him, eyes certain despite the way his breath goes faster now. There is no blush on his face, though, just quiet acceptance and care, yes, but that's it.
“I've never,” starts Kamui, and of course he hasn't. Subaru kisses him instead of answering that he hasn't, either: he has kissed a few men, tall and dark as he has tried to delude himself, but it never moves from that.
And Kamui is as different from Seishirou-san as possible, feeling always too much even when he shouldn't, caring a lot for the people around him even though he tries not to. And as he unbuttons Kamui's shirt, the teenager makes hungry sounds for him and Subaru wonders if things would have been like this, perhaps, with Seishirou-san in his place and he in Kamui's, if Seishirou-san had been the man he said he was.
It makes him angry, to think about that, even angrier when his cock twitches at that, hardening more than with Kamui's sweet, confused hands touching him carefully, mindful of scars and bruises that are hidden beneath his shirt.
So he breaks apart, turns Kamui so that he's face down against the couch, hearing Kamui's gasp of surprise. He bites the back of Kamui's neck, tastes the sweat there and he hears him gasp again, his name this time but there is no denial there, not in the way he has stayed like that, hands splayed by his head but relaxed.
Something burns inside - his hands hurt, but he ignores it, tells himself he doesn't care - and he reaches for the first aid kit, searches for some lotion and when he finds some that they could use for this, he squeezes some over his hand, and if his hands are shaking he ignores it to, ignores the mess he makes upon the couch and instead focuses on the sweet, shocked sound Kamui makes as he traces the rim of his hole before he pushes a fingertip in.
He's so tight: Kamui gasps his name, eyes closed, and Subaru pushes harder, fucks Kamui with his finger before he withdraws and pushes in with two, twisting his fingers, hearing the way Kamui moans, feeling the way his body clutches at him. He can't stop thinking - it wouldn't have been like this, with Seishirou-san. Not with the Seishirou-san he thought was the real one. He shouldn't be doing things like this, making things harder for Kamui, and he should...
“Subaru, please, please,” Kamui asks. His eyes are tightly closed but he's moving, thrusting against his fingers, panting.
It takes coordination he doesn't know where he gets to get his trousers open, to slick his cock before he presses against Kamui, and Kamui makes a soft, hurt sound that shouldn't sound as good as it does, that shouldn't make Subaru ache for this as much as this.
He curls over Kamui's back as he sinks in, breathing hard against Kamui's sweaty hair. It's too hot like this, sweat clinging to his shirt and yet he can't do a thing but thrust again and again, can't stop feeling this, burning and hot and alive, so close that even Kamui's energy soaks into his, and he can't stop himself from wondering how it would've been to be under Seishirou, to feel the length of his chest against his back, to feel his cock inside him.
Kamui mutters his name, alive and warm and Subaru bites his lip, tasting blood; he clings to his hips tightly and feels himself getting close; through the haze over his eye he can see when Kamui moves a hand underneath him, can see the way his shoulder shifts as Kamui jerks himself off, and Subaru shudders hard, groans as he feels Kamui tightening around him and then Kamui is barely muffing a scream against the couch as he comes and he follows seconds after that.
He does his best not to crush Kamui under his weight, and he withdraws, sits on his heels and closes his eye. He almost physically craves for a cigarette now, and there is something like guilt that wants to blossom after this, when he sees Kamui doing his best to unfold himself, shifting slowly. It's even worse when Kamui gives him a small smile over his shoulder, worse when he barely finds it in him to smile back.
“I...” Kamui starts and Subaru interrupts him, shakes his head a little even as he leans close, brushes a kiss against Kamui's forehead.
“Go and take a bath. You were going to study with your friend, right?”
That makes Kamui's smile a little, soft and almost not there, but it's there as he nods and he stands up, not completely hiding a wince as he does his pants again, but not harmed at all. The boy doubts a moment before he leans towards him, brushing his lips in a kiss and smiling a little before he goes out of the room, and then Subaru lets go of his smile, reaches for his cigarettes, takes a long, sweet drag as he fishes for his handkerchief to clean himself up at least a little.
Let Kamui interact with those who are still alive, after all.