[Pippa] Keeping Quiet
Keeping Quiet
NC-17; Yara/Yamamoto; AU; total PWP. What's new.
So the other night someone was like, yo Pippa so what are the chances of getting you to write me some making out? And obviously when I get free choice of pairing the answer is 'pretty much guaranteed tbh' so here we go.
-
"Yamamoto-kun," said Sho in a tone that brooked no argument, "help Yara-sensei collect the arrows from the archery meadow before reporting straight back here for your evening duties. I should not need to remind you of the instructions you were given last week. Prove you can be trusted."
Yamamoto bowed low. "Tono." He didn't need reminding. He'd already been punished quite enough for his apparently inappropriate-- Well, no, admittedly it probably had been inappropriate to be doing that in the middle of what was supposedly a training session and they probably were pushing their luck claiming it was wrestling practice, but it had been a week already and Yamamoto really missed Yara and-- He stepped down onto the gravel and began the long walk out toward the archery field, fighting back a yawn as the long day began to catch up with him. He had to hurry, for sure: the light was beginning to fade and if they left arrows out in the grass overnight they would be in trouble. It felt wrong that Yara-sensei was having to collect them himself; Yamamoto broke into an indignant run, scattering gravel everywhere. If so many of their numbers hadn't been off fighting elsewhere some of the chibiko could have been out here, but even so, Yara-sensei shouldn't have to…
"Ryota," Yara grinned as he looked up, teeth flashing white in his sun-darkened face. "I wasn't expecting it to be you."
"Sho-dono sent me," Yamamoto said, glancing back over his shoulder at the intimidating presence of their school before reaching down to pick up an arrow that had fallen short of its target. "To see if I can prove I can be trusted."
Yara huffed with amusement. "They're being like that, then, are they." His gaze hardened and he raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "That's fine. We can play by their rules out here. We're still meeting tonight, though."
Yamamoto paused, two arrows in hand. "We are?"
Yara waved him on, expression neutral once more. "Come on, hurry up, Yamamoto-kun. There is plenty of work still to be done out here, and the sun'll set soon."
-
Yara didn't tell him anything other than that, however, and as they parted ways and Yamamoto returned for his evening chores he wondered if there was some hint he'd missed, some clue or something he'd forgotten. He would have remembered if they'd had some arrangement, wouldn't he? Something like that surely wouldn't have slipped his mind?
"Watch what you're doing, Ryota," Ninomiya said, steadying the bowl with his own hand as Yamamoto narrowly avoided spilling soup everywhere. "You're a little more distracted than usual, tonight. Is something amiss?"
Yamamoto flinched; Ninomiya-dono in particular was somebody he did not want to disappoint. "Forgive me," he said, bowing as he handed over the bowl. "I must just be tired. I'm sorry."
Ninomiya's eyes smiled while his tone remained noncommittal. "Maybe you'd better rest early tonight," he said. "I won't want to write any letters and I don't want my armour preparing for the morning, so you have fewer things to take care of after supper." He took a mouthful of soup. "Use your time wisely, Yamamoto-kun."
He had no idea how to respond to that. Was this Ninomiya implying he knew something about what Yara had said? Or was he just being his usual (slightly confusing) self? Yamamoto decided to play it safe, and bowed again. "Thank you, tono," he said. "I will."
-
Even when all his duties were finished and he made his way back to the room he shared with Hayashi, Yamamoto still had no idea what Yara had meant. It was late; as Yamamoto changed out of his daytime work clothes Hayashi knelt at the low table over in the corner, finishing copying some report or other and stifling a yawn with the hand not holding his pen. Hayashi was clearly half asleep, eyelids drooping and head sinking lower and lower over the desk with every passing moment. Yamamoto's head was too full to think of sleep despite his tiredness from earlier; he took pity on his friend.
"Hey," he said, "Shota. You're copying? I can take over, if you like. You've got an early start tomorrow, haven't you."
Hayashi looked as though he could have cried from relief. "Could you?" he asked, shoulders sagging. "There isn't much left, I just…"
"It's fine," Yamamoto gave a small grin. "Better than you falling asleep and spilling ink over the originals."
Hayashi blanched at the thought, turning back to the desk to check that everything was as it should be. He moved away, straightening with a groan before crawling over to his futon and collapsing face-down. "You're the best," he said, barely clinging to wakefulness. "I'll pay you back sometime."
"No problem," Yamamoto said, kneeling at the table and picking up the brush before scanning the documents in front of him. Hayashi had been right, there wasn't too much still to go, but his writing was neater than Yamamoto's and he would have to concentrate to make his writing look less of a scribbled mess.
The sound of Hayashi's breathing deepened into sleep behind him, and Yamamoto felt his head begin to grow heavy as he strained his eyes in the dim light that flickered from the lantern on the table. The document was a dull one, with kanji whose meanings Yamamoto could barely recall; the effort of copying with no mistakes began to take its toll and he yawned, stretching a little before dipping his brush back in the ink. This was the kind of thing he needed; mindless copying to mute his thoughts, directing them away from thinking about… ah. Too late. Yamamoto narrowly avoided making a mistake, and frowned at the words without really seeing them. What had Yara meant? Perhaps he had better finish this quickly so that he could sneak out and tiptoe over to Yara's quarters, just in case.
Yamamoto had barely managed to complete the last phrase and set down his brush before the tiniest sensation of somebody else touching the hair by his neck made him freeze. Soft movements brushed the hair away and as Yara tugged at the collar of his yukata, Yamamoto turned, the how did you get in here so quietly? on the tip of his tongue. Yara muffled the question instantly, lips pressed against Yamamoto's in a firm kiss that made Yamamoto's voice catch in his throat, a muted groan that sounded loud in the hush of the room. Yara pulled away immediately, pressing one finger to Yamamoto's lips and mouthing quiet! before glancing over to where Hayashi lay sprawled out on his futon, fast asleep. Yamamoto nodded to show he understood, then reached out to tidy the writing equipment away and extinguish the tiny flame that flickered in the lantern. Clearly impatient, Yara tugged at Yamamoto's yukata again, sliding one hand in at the neckline and running his fingers over the soft skin of Yamamoto's chest. With everything put away, Yamamoto turned and pushed one arm back through his sleeve, shoving his yukata away from one shoulder altogether as he turned and reached out to wrap his arms around Yara's shoulders. Facing each other now, Yara kissed him again, tongue flicking out to run over Yamamoto's bottom lip as he pulled his student closer, pressing their bodies together as they knelt on the floor by the low table.
Reflexively, Yamamoto's hips moved to grind against Yara's as Yara's hands strayed down to grab at Yamamoto's ass through the material of his yukata. As he moved, they broke the kiss, seeking to read the expression on each other's faces in the dim moonlight that filtered through the window. They couldn't do much tonight, Yamamoto figured; Hayashi was right there and unless Yara had even riskier plans they couldn't do anything that would risk waking him, it simply wasn't fair. Yamamoto got to his feet as Yara pulled him upwards, and with soft footsteps they padded across the tatami matting to Yamamoto's futon.
As he lay back on the futon, Yamamoto felt Yara lie down beside him, instantly reaching out for the exposed skin on Yamamoto's chest. Fingers trailed up Yamamoto's neck and over his jaw line, skating across his lips and Yamamoto turned, tilting his face toward Yara as their lips met for a second time. Yara's fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of Yamamoto's neck and then he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow while he pushed the yukata away from Yamamoto's shoulders altogether, the material slipping until it barely served to keep any decency. Yamamoto reached out to pull Yara closer but the other man resisted, fingers trailing lightly over Yamamoto's chest and down across the tense muscle as he licked at Yamamoto's lips, swallowing a moan Yamamoto couldn't hold back.
"If you can't keep quiet," Yara said, pulling away and lowering his head to whisper close in Yamamoto's ear, "I'll have to stop."
Yamamoto nodded, grabbing Yara's wrist and holding his hand still until he could take a breath deep enough to get himself under control. Okay. He could manage this. He released his grip on Yara's wrist and rolled a little onto his side; as he moved the yukata slid open entirely and Yara's hand brushed against Yamamoto's hip, sliding over his thigh before running back up, fingers stroking against the more sensitive skin of Yamamoto's inner thigh. Yamamoto reached up to cling to Yara's still-clothed shoulder, biting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep still, to keep quiet as Yara cupped his balls and rolled them gently, leaning down to lick at Yamamoto's exposed collarbones. This… this was. This. This was mean and Yamamoto knew he was gripping Yara's shoulder hard enough for it to hurt, for it to bruise, but if he let go even for a second he was afraid he would… Yara wrapped his fingers around Yamamoto's aching, heated erection and Yamamoto let go, hand finding Yara's hair to tug him up for another kiss as his hips jerked involuntarily. He pressed their mouths together, hard, tongue desperately seeking contact with Yara's as he fought to keep silent, to keep as still as possible, because oh, fuck it had been a long week and it felt so good the way Yara's hand moved like that, and, and, and, and.
Yara pulled away first, breath hot against Yamamoto's neck and cock hard against Yamamoto's hip, through the material of his clothes. Yamamoto made a move to reach for Yara's yukata but Yara nudged his hand away, thumb rubbing over the slick head of Yamamoto's erection and making the other man's fist clench in the material of Yara's sleeve as Yamamoto exhaled a shuddering breath. Don't go to pieces just yet, he told himself. Don't-- he bit his bottom lip once more as Yara bit lightly at his neck, licking at his chest, his abs, his… Yamamoto breathed in sharply as realisation hit him a half-second before Yara's hand stilled long enough for him to take Yamamoto's cock into his mouth.
What. This wasn't what normally… Yamamoto choked back a moan and grabbed at the futon, teeth gritted and eyes tight shut as he struggled not to thrust up, not to make a sound, to do nothing as, in the near darkness, Yara drew his head back and sucked, tongue swirling around the head of Yamamoto's cock before swallowing him down again. The moonlight threw a square of blue-grey light against the opposite wall; Yamamoto tried to focus on that, on the shape of Hayashi's sleeping form to his right, on anything but… fuck that, that, not that, anything but the way Yara held his balls, the way his tongue licked insistently at the underside of his cock, the tightness of Yara's lips around… Yamamoto wished it was daylight, so that he could see properly rather than indistinct shadows and silhouettes, but this, even this was enough to make him… Yamamoto felt heat swirling around his body, pooling in his groin and he reached for Yara's yukata, trying to warn, trying--
Yamamoto felt his whole body tense, back arching as he came. He felt like he had been holding his breath; he gasped for air, every exhalation as loud as a roll of thunder in the heavy silence of the room. He was shaking. His body trembled, and as Yara pulled away Yamamoto reached for him, crushing their mouths together again as he shuddered, heartbeat slowly returning to normal.
"You okay?" Yara asked, his whisper sounding hoarse as he pulled back and Yamamoto realised with a twinge of guilt that Yara was still dressed, that he had only paid attention to Yamamoto the entire time.
"I'm fine," he whispered. As he moved to sit up so that Yara could rest properly on the futon, Hayashi murmured and shifted in his sleep, tugging his quilt over his head with a noise that bordered on disgruntlement.
Yara laughed under his breath, readjusting his yukata and sitting up. "Maybe I should go."
Yamamoto pushed him back again. "You can keep quiet, can't you?" he asked, leaning close to whisper in Yara's ear and grinning as he heard the faint sound of Yara's breath catching in his throat. Hands reached up to stroke up Yamamoto's sides as he leaned down to kiss Yara for what must have been the millionth time, resting on his elbow and swinging one leg over Yara's hips to kneel over him. Yara's hands were warm on his waist, and his grip tightened as he pushed at Yamamoto's hips, evidently far more tense than he had shown until now. As Yamamoto moved to nose at his throat and suck lightly at Yara's neck he heard Yara's sharp intake of breath, a hiss through his teeth that made Yamamoto grin and lower his hips a little, deliberately teasing.
Yara had loosened the ties of his yukata already; Yamamoto bit at Yara's collarbone and felt him shudder, the grip on his hips tightening before relaxing again. One hand let go and Yamamoto soon found Yara's hand in his hair once more, tangling among the messy strands and gripping lightly. Yamamoto got the message; Yara was getting impatient. He flicked his tongue over one nipple, hand tugging Yara's yukata out of the way and scratching his short nails lightly over the hard lines of Yara's abs, grinning as he felt the other man tense and shiver. The hand in his hair tightened, and Yamamoto could feel Yara's heartbeat as his chest rose and fell with breaths that Yara struggled to control. He sucked at a patch of skin just below Yara's ribcage and heard a quiet ahh before the hand not tangled in his hair shoved at Yamamoto's shoulder, the meaning clear. Yamamoto blew on the skin he had just sucked, and Yara's hips jerked as a quiet groan left his lips. The hand on his shoulder left, and Yamamoto suspected Yara may have used it to cover his mouth as Yamamoto crawled out of arm's reach, reaching for Yara's cock and wrapping his fingers around the base long enough to guide it into his mouth. Yara swore under his breath and for a moment Yamamoto felt smug, before guiltily recalling how long Yara had waited for this. He lowered his head, holding Yara's hips as he sucked, tongue flexing against the heated skin, sucking and licking as fast as he could manage. The muscles in Yara's thighs trembled slightly; his abs tensed and that was as much warning as Yamamoto received before hot, bitter come spurted into his mouth and Yara panted into the silent room as, slowly, his tense muscles relaxed.
A hand brushed against Yamamoto's shoulder and he reached up to take it, crawling back up to lie so close to Yara that he was almost on top of him. It was hardly ideal, their current situation and these hurried, furtive meetings. But, Yamamoto supposed, it could be a whole lot worse.
"Are you staying?" he whispered as Yara tugged the quilt over them both. Yara didn't respond, but simply pulled Yamamoto closer and exhaled in a long sigh, drowsy and relaxed. Yamamoto's lips quirked in a small smile, and he too let the tension drain from his body. "Then, g'night."
Yara's hand absently played with Yamamoto's hair as he faded into sleep. "G'night."
-
"Awh man, seriously?" Hayashi's voice woke Yamamoto the next day, and he opened bleary eyes to squint at his roommate in the daylight. Hayashi was sitting upright, hair a mess, rubbing at his eyes as he glowered sleepily at the two on Yamamoto's futon. "I thought I was just having weird dreams." He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress. "Good morning, Yara-sensei," he said in a monotone.
"Good morning, Shota," Yara responded dryly, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I hope you slept well."
"Fine, thank you," he replied, then groaned again before rolling onto his side and crawling over to where the copied documents sat, completed and ready. "Ryota, you're lucky I owe you," he said, brandishing the papers at Yamamoto where he lay, warm and unfazed against Yara's chest.
"Hayashi-kun is my favourite," Yamamoto said, still sleepy, and closed his eyes again as Yara laughed.
"I thought I was your favourite?" he said.
"Nn. Yara-sensei is my most favouritest of all."
Hayashi simply rolled his eyes, and tried not to grin.
-
NC-17; Yara/Yamamoto; AU; total PWP. What's new.
So the other night someone was like, yo Pippa so what are the chances of getting you to write me some making out? And obviously when I get free choice of pairing the answer is 'pretty much guaranteed tbh' so here we go.
-
"Yamamoto-kun," said Sho in a tone that brooked no argument, "help Yara-sensei collect the arrows from the archery meadow before reporting straight back here for your evening duties. I should not need to remind you of the instructions you were given last week. Prove you can be trusted."
Yamamoto bowed low. "Tono." He didn't need reminding. He'd already been punished quite enough for his apparently inappropriate-- Well, no, admittedly it probably had been inappropriate to be doing that in the middle of what was supposedly a training session and they probably were pushing their luck claiming it was wrestling practice, but it had been a week already and Yamamoto really missed Yara and-- He stepped down onto the gravel and began the long walk out toward the archery field, fighting back a yawn as the long day began to catch up with him. He had to hurry, for sure: the light was beginning to fade and if they left arrows out in the grass overnight they would be in trouble. It felt wrong that Yara-sensei was having to collect them himself; Yamamoto broke into an indignant run, scattering gravel everywhere. If so many of their numbers hadn't been off fighting elsewhere some of the chibiko could have been out here, but even so, Yara-sensei shouldn't have to…
"Ryota," Yara grinned as he looked up, teeth flashing white in his sun-darkened face. "I wasn't expecting it to be you."
"Sho-dono sent me," Yamamoto said, glancing back over his shoulder at the intimidating presence of their school before reaching down to pick up an arrow that had fallen short of its target. "To see if I can prove I can be trusted."
Yara huffed with amusement. "They're being like that, then, are they." His gaze hardened and he raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "That's fine. We can play by their rules out here. We're still meeting tonight, though."
Yamamoto paused, two arrows in hand. "We are?"
Yara waved him on, expression neutral once more. "Come on, hurry up, Yamamoto-kun. There is plenty of work still to be done out here, and the sun'll set soon."
-
Yara didn't tell him anything other than that, however, and as they parted ways and Yamamoto returned for his evening chores he wondered if there was some hint he'd missed, some clue or something he'd forgotten. He would have remembered if they'd had some arrangement, wouldn't he? Something like that surely wouldn't have slipped his mind?
"Watch what you're doing, Ryota," Ninomiya said, steadying the bowl with his own hand as Yamamoto narrowly avoided spilling soup everywhere. "You're a little more distracted than usual, tonight. Is something amiss?"
Yamamoto flinched; Ninomiya-dono in particular was somebody he did not want to disappoint. "Forgive me," he said, bowing as he handed over the bowl. "I must just be tired. I'm sorry."
Ninomiya's eyes smiled while his tone remained noncommittal. "Maybe you'd better rest early tonight," he said. "I won't want to write any letters and I don't want my armour preparing for the morning, so you have fewer things to take care of after supper." He took a mouthful of soup. "Use your time wisely, Yamamoto-kun."
He had no idea how to respond to that. Was this Ninomiya implying he knew something about what Yara had said? Or was he just being his usual (slightly confusing) self? Yamamoto decided to play it safe, and bowed again. "Thank you, tono," he said. "I will."
-
Even when all his duties were finished and he made his way back to the room he shared with Hayashi, Yamamoto still had no idea what Yara had meant. It was late; as Yamamoto changed out of his daytime work clothes Hayashi knelt at the low table over in the corner, finishing copying some report or other and stifling a yawn with the hand not holding his pen. Hayashi was clearly half asleep, eyelids drooping and head sinking lower and lower over the desk with every passing moment. Yamamoto's head was too full to think of sleep despite his tiredness from earlier; he took pity on his friend.
"Hey," he said, "Shota. You're copying? I can take over, if you like. You've got an early start tomorrow, haven't you."
Hayashi looked as though he could have cried from relief. "Could you?" he asked, shoulders sagging. "There isn't much left, I just…"
"It's fine," Yamamoto gave a small grin. "Better than you falling asleep and spilling ink over the originals."
Hayashi blanched at the thought, turning back to the desk to check that everything was as it should be. He moved away, straightening with a groan before crawling over to his futon and collapsing face-down. "You're the best," he said, barely clinging to wakefulness. "I'll pay you back sometime."
"No problem," Yamamoto said, kneeling at the table and picking up the brush before scanning the documents in front of him. Hayashi had been right, there wasn't too much still to go, but his writing was neater than Yamamoto's and he would have to concentrate to make his writing look less of a scribbled mess.
The sound of Hayashi's breathing deepened into sleep behind him, and Yamamoto felt his head begin to grow heavy as he strained his eyes in the dim light that flickered from the lantern on the table. The document was a dull one, with kanji whose meanings Yamamoto could barely recall; the effort of copying with no mistakes began to take its toll and he yawned, stretching a little before dipping his brush back in the ink. This was the kind of thing he needed; mindless copying to mute his thoughts, directing them away from thinking about… ah. Too late. Yamamoto narrowly avoided making a mistake, and frowned at the words without really seeing them. What had Yara meant? Perhaps he had better finish this quickly so that he could sneak out and tiptoe over to Yara's quarters, just in case.
Yamamoto had barely managed to complete the last phrase and set down his brush before the tiniest sensation of somebody else touching the hair by his neck made him freeze. Soft movements brushed the hair away and as Yara tugged at the collar of his yukata, Yamamoto turned, the how did you get in here so quietly? on the tip of his tongue. Yara muffled the question instantly, lips pressed against Yamamoto's in a firm kiss that made Yamamoto's voice catch in his throat, a muted groan that sounded loud in the hush of the room. Yara pulled away immediately, pressing one finger to Yamamoto's lips and mouthing quiet! before glancing over to where Hayashi lay sprawled out on his futon, fast asleep. Yamamoto nodded to show he understood, then reached out to tidy the writing equipment away and extinguish the tiny flame that flickered in the lantern. Clearly impatient, Yara tugged at Yamamoto's yukata again, sliding one hand in at the neckline and running his fingers over the soft skin of Yamamoto's chest. With everything put away, Yamamoto turned and pushed one arm back through his sleeve, shoving his yukata away from one shoulder altogether as he turned and reached out to wrap his arms around Yara's shoulders. Facing each other now, Yara kissed him again, tongue flicking out to run over Yamamoto's bottom lip as he pulled his student closer, pressing their bodies together as they knelt on the floor by the low table.
Reflexively, Yamamoto's hips moved to grind against Yara's as Yara's hands strayed down to grab at Yamamoto's ass through the material of his yukata. As he moved, they broke the kiss, seeking to read the expression on each other's faces in the dim moonlight that filtered through the window. They couldn't do much tonight, Yamamoto figured; Hayashi was right there and unless Yara had even riskier plans they couldn't do anything that would risk waking him, it simply wasn't fair. Yamamoto got to his feet as Yara pulled him upwards, and with soft footsteps they padded across the tatami matting to Yamamoto's futon.
As he lay back on the futon, Yamamoto felt Yara lie down beside him, instantly reaching out for the exposed skin on Yamamoto's chest. Fingers trailed up Yamamoto's neck and over his jaw line, skating across his lips and Yamamoto turned, tilting his face toward Yara as their lips met for a second time. Yara's fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of Yamamoto's neck and then he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow while he pushed the yukata away from Yamamoto's shoulders altogether, the material slipping until it barely served to keep any decency. Yamamoto reached out to pull Yara closer but the other man resisted, fingers trailing lightly over Yamamoto's chest and down across the tense muscle as he licked at Yamamoto's lips, swallowing a moan Yamamoto couldn't hold back.
"If you can't keep quiet," Yara said, pulling away and lowering his head to whisper close in Yamamoto's ear, "I'll have to stop."
Yamamoto nodded, grabbing Yara's wrist and holding his hand still until he could take a breath deep enough to get himself under control. Okay. He could manage this. He released his grip on Yara's wrist and rolled a little onto his side; as he moved the yukata slid open entirely and Yara's hand brushed against Yamamoto's hip, sliding over his thigh before running back up, fingers stroking against the more sensitive skin of Yamamoto's inner thigh. Yamamoto reached up to cling to Yara's still-clothed shoulder, biting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep still, to keep quiet as Yara cupped his balls and rolled them gently, leaning down to lick at Yamamoto's exposed collarbones. This… this was. This. This was mean and Yamamoto knew he was gripping Yara's shoulder hard enough for it to hurt, for it to bruise, but if he let go even for a second he was afraid he would… Yara wrapped his fingers around Yamamoto's aching, heated erection and Yamamoto let go, hand finding Yara's hair to tug him up for another kiss as his hips jerked involuntarily. He pressed their mouths together, hard, tongue desperately seeking contact with Yara's as he fought to keep silent, to keep as still as possible, because oh, fuck it had been a long week and it felt so good the way Yara's hand moved like that, and, and, and, and.
Yara pulled away first, breath hot against Yamamoto's neck and cock hard against Yamamoto's hip, through the material of his clothes. Yamamoto made a move to reach for Yara's yukata but Yara nudged his hand away, thumb rubbing over the slick head of Yamamoto's erection and making the other man's fist clench in the material of Yara's sleeve as Yamamoto exhaled a shuddering breath. Don't go to pieces just yet, he told himself. Don't-- he bit his bottom lip once more as Yara bit lightly at his neck, licking at his chest, his abs, his… Yamamoto breathed in sharply as realisation hit him a half-second before Yara's hand stilled long enough for him to take Yamamoto's cock into his mouth.
What. This wasn't what normally… Yamamoto choked back a moan and grabbed at the futon, teeth gritted and eyes tight shut as he struggled not to thrust up, not to make a sound, to do nothing as, in the near darkness, Yara drew his head back and sucked, tongue swirling around the head of Yamamoto's cock before swallowing him down again. The moonlight threw a square of blue-grey light against the opposite wall; Yamamoto tried to focus on that, on the shape of Hayashi's sleeping form to his right, on anything but… fuck that, that, not that, anything but the way Yara held his balls, the way his tongue licked insistently at the underside of his cock, the tightness of Yara's lips around… Yamamoto wished it was daylight, so that he could see properly rather than indistinct shadows and silhouettes, but this, even this was enough to make him… Yamamoto felt heat swirling around his body, pooling in his groin and he reached for Yara's yukata, trying to warn, trying--
Yamamoto felt his whole body tense, back arching as he came. He felt like he had been holding his breath; he gasped for air, every exhalation as loud as a roll of thunder in the heavy silence of the room. He was shaking. His body trembled, and as Yara pulled away Yamamoto reached for him, crushing their mouths together again as he shuddered, heartbeat slowly returning to normal.
"You okay?" Yara asked, his whisper sounding hoarse as he pulled back and Yamamoto realised with a twinge of guilt that Yara was still dressed, that he had only paid attention to Yamamoto the entire time.
"I'm fine," he whispered. As he moved to sit up so that Yara could rest properly on the futon, Hayashi murmured and shifted in his sleep, tugging his quilt over his head with a noise that bordered on disgruntlement.
Yara laughed under his breath, readjusting his yukata and sitting up. "Maybe I should go."
Yamamoto pushed him back again. "You can keep quiet, can't you?" he asked, leaning close to whisper in Yara's ear and grinning as he heard the faint sound of Yara's breath catching in his throat. Hands reached up to stroke up Yamamoto's sides as he leaned down to kiss Yara for what must have been the millionth time, resting on his elbow and swinging one leg over Yara's hips to kneel over him. Yara's hands were warm on his waist, and his grip tightened as he pushed at Yamamoto's hips, evidently far more tense than he had shown until now. As Yamamoto moved to nose at his throat and suck lightly at Yara's neck he heard Yara's sharp intake of breath, a hiss through his teeth that made Yamamoto grin and lower his hips a little, deliberately teasing.
Yara had loosened the ties of his yukata already; Yamamoto bit at Yara's collarbone and felt him shudder, the grip on his hips tightening before relaxing again. One hand let go and Yamamoto soon found Yara's hand in his hair once more, tangling among the messy strands and gripping lightly. Yamamoto got the message; Yara was getting impatient. He flicked his tongue over one nipple, hand tugging Yara's yukata out of the way and scratching his short nails lightly over the hard lines of Yara's abs, grinning as he felt the other man tense and shiver. The hand in his hair tightened, and Yamamoto could feel Yara's heartbeat as his chest rose and fell with breaths that Yara struggled to control. He sucked at a patch of skin just below Yara's ribcage and heard a quiet ahh before the hand not tangled in his hair shoved at Yamamoto's shoulder, the meaning clear. Yamamoto blew on the skin he had just sucked, and Yara's hips jerked as a quiet groan left his lips. The hand on his shoulder left, and Yamamoto suspected Yara may have used it to cover his mouth as Yamamoto crawled out of arm's reach, reaching for Yara's cock and wrapping his fingers around the base long enough to guide it into his mouth. Yara swore under his breath and for a moment Yamamoto felt smug, before guiltily recalling how long Yara had waited for this. He lowered his head, holding Yara's hips as he sucked, tongue flexing against the heated skin, sucking and licking as fast as he could manage. The muscles in Yara's thighs trembled slightly; his abs tensed and that was as much warning as Yamamoto received before hot, bitter come spurted into his mouth and Yara panted into the silent room as, slowly, his tense muscles relaxed.
A hand brushed against Yamamoto's shoulder and he reached up to take it, crawling back up to lie so close to Yara that he was almost on top of him. It was hardly ideal, their current situation and these hurried, furtive meetings. But, Yamamoto supposed, it could be a whole lot worse.
"Are you staying?" he whispered as Yara tugged the quilt over them both. Yara didn't respond, but simply pulled Yamamoto closer and exhaled in a long sigh, drowsy and relaxed. Yamamoto's lips quirked in a small smile, and he too let the tension drain from his body. "Then, g'night."
Yara's hand absently played with Yamamoto's hair as he faded into sleep. "G'night."
-
"Awh man, seriously?" Hayashi's voice woke Yamamoto the next day, and he opened bleary eyes to squint at his roommate in the daylight. Hayashi was sitting upright, hair a mess, rubbing at his eyes as he glowered sleepily at the two on Yamamoto's futon. "I thought I was just having weird dreams." He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress. "Good morning, Yara-sensei," he said in a monotone.
"Good morning, Shota," Yara responded dryly, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I hope you slept well."
"Fine, thank you," he replied, then groaned again before rolling onto his side and crawling over to where the copied documents sat, completed and ready. "Ryota, you're lucky I owe you," he said, brandishing the papers at Yamamoto where he lay, warm and unfazed against Yara's chest.
"Hayashi-kun is my favourite," Yamamoto said, still sleepy, and closed his eyes again as Yara laughed.
"I thought I was your favourite?" he said.
"Nn. Yara-sensei is my most favouritest of all."
Hayashi simply rolled his eyes, and tried not to grin.
-