Fire for a heart
Fire for a heart
Kitayama/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 1190 words, R. Fist fighting, bleeding, dub-con
Kitayama doesn't hear if Fujigaya hits his head, but his eyes look unfocused and blurry when he looks into them.
When Kitayama puts his whole weight behind his punch, hits Fujigaya in the face, he's thrown backwards and in turn hits the wall with a low thud. Kitayama doesn't hear if he hits his head, but when he grabs a handful of his hair and yanks on it so that he can see Fujigaya's face, his eyes look unfocused and blurry.
He draws a long, slow breath when he sees the first hint of red, and tries to not act on impulse when blood starts running from one of Fujigaya's nostrils. Onto his lips, parted to accustom his heavy breathing, then dripping onto his shabby shirt, adding new, darker stains to it. Kitayama doesn't try to deny the rush that runs through his body at the sight, doesn't try to explain it to himself as anything other than what it really is. Instead, when he can't handle it anymore, he crushes their lips together; feels the blood hot and sticky against his own upper lip. He tries to tilt Fujigaya's head backwards and decrease the blood that flows onto their lips, but Fujigaya is taller and he doesn't really succeed. He's kissing back too, probably too out of it to know what's really going on and therefore acting on instinct, and when their tongues come together Kitayama can taste the metallic tang even stronger. He wishes he could see it, see them like this, but just pulling back to see Fujigaya with blood still seeping from his nose and now in a mess on and around his lips, is good enough.
“I'm not...” Fujigaya mumbles, voice as unclear as his eyes, but the attempt to lift his fist in the direction of Kitayama's face suggests that he doesn't think he's done fighting. But Kitayama is in charge now, Kitayama has a strong hold on Fujigaya's hair and he can't resist what his brain is telling him. Even though Fujigaya already is a mess.
So he kisses him again, groans when he feels that metallic taste again; tugs on his hair and this time Fujigaya's head follows more easily. He can't keep them connected like this but it's fine, Fujigaya is breathing against his temple and Kitayama can feel the trail of blood on his cheek drying while he holds tight onto his hair to distract him. The noise Fujigaya makes when he realizes Kitayama is opening his pants is a mix of upset and dissatisfied, sounds like defeat and Kitayama can't remember anything turning him on as much before. It makes him hurry, like he's rushing for a price but he's the only one competing, Fujigaya is out of the race and Kitayama could take his time if it wasn't for the urgency beating in his veins.
There's another dissatisfied sound when Kitayama pushes Fujigaya's pants down, fumbles with his own shoe to get one of Fujigaya's off, to rid the same leg of his pants entirely; he meets no struggling when he lifts Fujigaya's leg up, hooks it over his arm as he steps closer. Keeping the balance like that is difficult, a lot of Fujigaya's weight is on Kitayama's arm as if he trusts him to hold him up, and even having him lean more against the wall doesn't help all that much. He's starting to rethink his choices, considers other ways to do this, but his body seems to act without asking the brain, slicks a couple of fingers with saliva.
And then Fujigaya lifts both of his arms, with what first seems like regained strength but he's still a little shaky; Kitayama freezes for a second, until Fujigaya puts his arms over his shoulders and holds on. He's less of a dead weight like that, allows Kitayama to shift them and get his free hand between Fujigaya's legs. There's no way to know if the shaky breath just above his ear is returned arousal or him dizzy or in pain, but the way he holds on stronger when Kitayama pushes a finger inside him at least suggests he's not opposed to this.
Not that Kitayama would stop now, not when he's two fingers inside Fujigaya, arousal making everything else seem distant and with his mind only set on one thing. The groan that makes it through to his consciousness when he replaces the fingers with his cock tells him that Fujigaya isn't entirely comfortable, but he's hot and tight around him and Kitayama doesn't care. The hands in the back of his shirt are still holding on, not attempting to push Kitayama away, and now that he's as close as he possibly can get it's also easier to balance him against his own body.
Fujigaya groans again when Kitayama starts thrusting, his head moving as his body does and Kitayama feels his own hair stick to the skin on his cheek after Fujigaya's face brushes against it. He doesn't feel anything run down it though, assumes the bleeding has ceased. A thrust and a push at the same time and Fujigaya's head falls back against the wall again; the blood is drying but it's smeared and it shouldn't look hot, not at all but it still makes him snap his hips as he moves into Fujigaya, makes him grip him tighter and and fuck him harder. Judging by the soft stream of air that leaves Fujigaya with every thrust his air is being driven out of him, but his grip on Kitayama's clothes only slips once, and then he holds on even firmer.
It would feel better with lube, Kitayama knows that, but what's in his mind gets him closer than the physical sensations right now and he can't think of a situation that would turn him on more. Fujigaya is gasping for breath by the time Kitayama is about to finish; he pulls out and loosens his hold on him, lightly pushes down on his shoulder and Fujigaya slowly sinks to the ground. He's looking up at Kitayama, back and forth between his face and where his hand is curled around his cock, moving up and down it frantically. A voice in the back of Kitayama's head tells him to shove it past Fujigaya's slightly parted lips, but just the thought brings him all the way and with hooded eyes he watches his come hit Fujigaya's face, on top of the drying blood on his lips and he almost wants to lean down and kiss him again.
But he tucks himself back in his pants, zips them up, eyes still on Fujigaya, who is doing the same but fumbling much more, and before he leaves he squats in front of him. Beating Fujigaya up doesn't mean he wants him gone (although if he had to die, he'd like to be the one to do it), so he tilts his head to check on his face, tries to look into his eyes and it's not until he angles him upwards that they become visible again. And there's something in his eyes that Kitayama didn't expect to see; a hint of success and burning satisfaction, a look soon accompanied by hands around Kitayama's throat and words he cannot decipher on the spot.
“Fucking finally.”
Kitayama/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 1190 words, R. Fist fighting, bleeding, dub-con
Kitayama doesn't hear if Fujigaya hits his head, but his eyes look unfocused and blurry when he looks into them.
When Kitayama puts his whole weight behind his punch, hits Fujigaya in the face, he's thrown backwards and in turn hits the wall with a low thud. Kitayama doesn't hear if he hits his head, but when he grabs a handful of his hair and yanks on it so that he can see Fujigaya's face, his eyes look unfocused and blurry.
He draws a long, slow breath when he sees the first hint of red, and tries to not act on impulse when blood starts running from one of Fujigaya's nostrils. Onto his lips, parted to accustom his heavy breathing, then dripping onto his shabby shirt, adding new, darker stains to it. Kitayama doesn't try to deny the rush that runs through his body at the sight, doesn't try to explain it to himself as anything other than what it really is. Instead, when he can't handle it anymore, he crushes their lips together; feels the blood hot and sticky against his own upper lip. He tries to tilt Fujigaya's head backwards and decrease the blood that flows onto their lips, but Fujigaya is taller and he doesn't really succeed. He's kissing back too, probably too out of it to know what's really going on and therefore acting on instinct, and when their tongues come together Kitayama can taste the metallic tang even stronger. He wishes he could see it, see them like this, but just pulling back to see Fujigaya with blood still seeping from his nose and now in a mess on and around his lips, is good enough.
“I'm not...” Fujigaya mumbles, voice as unclear as his eyes, but the attempt to lift his fist in the direction of Kitayama's face suggests that he doesn't think he's done fighting. But Kitayama is in charge now, Kitayama has a strong hold on Fujigaya's hair and he can't resist what his brain is telling him. Even though Fujigaya already is a mess.
So he kisses him again, groans when he feels that metallic taste again; tugs on his hair and this time Fujigaya's head follows more easily. He can't keep them connected like this but it's fine, Fujigaya is breathing against his temple and Kitayama can feel the trail of blood on his cheek drying while he holds tight onto his hair to distract him. The noise Fujigaya makes when he realizes Kitayama is opening his pants is a mix of upset and dissatisfied, sounds like defeat and Kitayama can't remember anything turning him on as much before. It makes him hurry, like he's rushing for a price but he's the only one competing, Fujigaya is out of the race and Kitayama could take his time if it wasn't for the urgency beating in his veins.
There's another dissatisfied sound when Kitayama pushes Fujigaya's pants down, fumbles with his own shoe to get one of Fujigaya's off, to rid the same leg of his pants entirely; he meets no struggling when he lifts Fujigaya's leg up, hooks it over his arm as he steps closer. Keeping the balance like that is difficult, a lot of Fujigaya's weight is on Kitayama's arm as if he trusts him to hold him up, and even having him lean more against the wall doesn't help all that much. He's starting to rethink his choices, considers other ways to do this, but his body seems to act without asking the brain, slicks a couple of fingers with saliva.
And then Fujigaya lifts both of his arms, with what first seems like regained strength but he's still a little shaky; Kitayama freezes for a second, until Fujigaya puts his arms over his shoulders and holds on. He's less of a dead weight like that, allows Kitayama to shift them and get his free hand between Fujigaya's legs. There's no way to know if the shaky breath just above his ear is returned arousal or him dizzy or in pain, but the way he holds on stronger when Kitayama pushes a finger inside him at least suggests he's not opposed to this.
Not that Kitayama would stop now, not when he's two fingers inside Fujigaya, arousal making everything else seem distant and with his mind only set on one thing. The groan that makes it through to his consciousness when he replaces the fingers with his cock tells him that Fujigaya isn't entirely comfortable, but he's hot and tight around him and Kitayama doesn't care. The hands in the back of his shirt are still holding on, not attempting to push Kitayama away, and now that he's as close as he possibly can get it's also easier to balance him against his own body.
Fujigaya groans again when Kitayama starts thrusting, his head moving as his body does and Kitayama feels his own hair stick to the skin on his cheek after Fujigaya's face brushes against it. He doesn't feel anything run down it though, assumes the bleeding has ceased. A thrust and a push at the same time and Fujigaya's head falls back against the wall again; the blood is drying but it's smeared and it shouldn't look hot, not at all but it still makes him snap his hips as he moves into Fujigaya, makes him grip him tighter and and fuck him harder. Judging by the soft stream of air that leaves Fujigaya with every thrust his air is being driven out of him, but his grip on Kitayama's clothes only slips once, and then he holds on even firmer.
It would feel better with lube, Kitayama knows that, but what's in his mind gets him closer than the physical sensations right now and he can't think of a situation that would turn him on more. Fujigaya is gasping for breath by the time Kitayama is about to finish; he pulls out and loosens his hold on him, lightly pushes down on his shoulder and Fujigaya slowly sinks to the ground. He's looking up at Kitayama, back and forth between his face and where his hand is curled around his cock, moving up and down it frantically. A voice in the back of Kitayama's head tells him to shove it past Fujigaya's slightly parted lips, but just the thought brings him all the way and with hooded eyes he watches his come hit Fujigaya's face, on top of the drying blood on his lips and he almost wants to lean down and kiss him again.
But he tucks himself back in his pants, zips them up, eyes still on Fujigaya, who is doing the same but fumbling much more, and before he leaves he squats in front of him. Beating Fujigaya up doesn't mean he wants him gone (although if he had to die, he'd like to be the one to do it), so he tilts his head to check on his face, tries to look into his eyes and it's not until he angles him upwards that they become visible again. And there's something in his eyes that Kitayama didn't expect to see; a hint of success and burning satisfaction, a look soon accompanied by hands around Kitayama's throat and words he cannot decipher on the spot.
“Fucking finally.”