Sayings (Tamamori/Miyata, NC-17)
Title: Sayings
Character/Pairing: Tamamori/Miyata
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Sometimes Tamamori isn't so predictable. Sometimes.
AN: For mousapelli's birthday, a billion days too late. :x I had it almost sort of done on time, but it stalled and I never figured out how to finish it. Still not sure I have, but now I hate looking at it, so I give up. At least there's porn?
Sayings
Actions speak louder than words, says the old adage, and Miyata believes it. He still wishes Tamamori would stop blatantly lying about his feelings for Miyata (or supposed lack of them), but he can’t bring himself to argue too forcefully when Tamamori is regularly sharing his bed.
By the time they get back to the hotel, Tamamori doesn’t even bother with a token protest anymore. Miyata kisses him and he immediately kisses back, twisting his hands into the front of Miyata’s shirt to pull him closer, insistent. Tamamori has no use for his sweet nothings today, and that’s okay with Miyata, too.
“Whoa, whoa! What’s the rush?” Miyata pulls back to ask when Tamamori’s kisses turn even more demanding. It takes a bit of effort to keep breathing-distance between them. Miyata jerks back when Tamamori tries to kiss him again without answering. “Hey!”
Tamamori pouts when he realizes Miyata is serious. “What?” he asks. “Can’t I just want you?”
“Sure,” Miyata answers. “But you usually aren’t so...”
“So what?” Tamamori wants to know, leaning back in until Miyata can feel Tamamori’s breath on his lips.
“So... forceful?” Miyata tries, although he’s not sure that’s the right word, exactly.
To his surprise, Tamamori’s face flares red. “Is that bad?” Tamamori asks, pulling back a few centimeters.
Miyata blinks. “Um. No. Just... unusual?” He tries to catch Tamamori’s eye, although Tamamori seems distracted by Miyata’s mouth. “Did something happen today?”
“No,” Tamamori shakes his head, but he’s still staring at Miyata’s lips. “I just... feel like it,” he says when Miyata waits him out. “Come on, can I just kiss you already?”
Miyata tries to hold back a smile as Tamamori’s blush spreads down to disappear beneath the neckline of his shirt. “You just feel like it?” he echoes, and he knows he’s just torturing Tamamori now, but it’s too much fun to get him all worked up.
“It happens sometimes, okay,” Tamamori snaps, but he ruins any effect he might have had by leaning in again. He pouts again when Miyata frustrates his efforts. “Ugh, Miyacchi!”
“Tell me you’re just randomly horny.” Miyata grins at him.
“I hate you so much,” Tamamori says.
“Say it.”
“Fine,” Tamamori grits out. “I am just randomly horny. And I have the most obnoxious boyfriend ever,” he adds. “Now kiss me before I go deal with it myself.”
Miyata certainly won’t allow for that, though, and so he gives in, his grin making their kiss awkward as he finally lets Tamamori close enough again.
Even though he teases him about it, Miyata likes Tamamori like this, all desperate. If Miyata is honest, it’s not too difficult to get him that way, but it’s not so common that he starts out as such. He is forceful - Miyata had been right - leaning into Miyata hard enough that they can’t stay balanced, a slow, steady progress of tripping steps as Miyata tries to stay upright, until his back hits the wall and finds some support. Tamamori doesn’t seem to notice, intent as he is on trying to lick his way down Miyata’s throat. The lack of any of his usual technique nearly makes Miyata laugh, but there’s also a complete lack of restraint that Miyata finds rather hot.
Tamamori isn’t hiding anything today, no hesitance, no coyness, and his open desire for Miyata makes up for just about everything else.
“Suck me off,” Tamamori mutters against his mouth, flexing his hips against Miyata’s, and while Miyata’s only just started to get interested, Tamamori is already there, hard against his thigh when Miyata shifts his leg.
“What’s in it for me?” Miyata wants to know. He’d do it for nothing, just because Tamamori asked, but at the moment, Tamamori might be more agreeable to some of Miyata’s less reasonable demands.
“Anything you want,” is Tamamori’s reply, and Miyata knows he’s guessed right.
“Do I have to name a price right now?”
“No,” Tamamori says, pushing at his shoulders. “Just hurry up.”
An open-ended deal. Sweet. Miyata drops to his knees.
Tamamori feels good on his tongue when Miyata doesn’t make him wait, taking him in as far as he can. Miyata pinches at his hip when he moans loud enough that Miyata worries about Fujigaya next door, but Tamamori doesn’t quiet down and Miyata decides that Fujigaya will just have to deal. It’s worth Fujigaya’s bitching to have Tamamori clutching at him the way he is, fingers tight in Miyata’s hair, thighs already shaking beneath Miyata’s hands.
Miyata hums in encouragement and Tamamori tenses all over, not even muffling his groan as he comes. He shakes even harder as Miyata works him through it, and Miyata is forced to lean his full body weight against Tamamori’s legs so that Tamamori doesn’t slide to the floor in a heap.
“Come on, Yuta,” Miyata says when his mouth is no longer full, standing up to catch Tamamori before he falls. “To bed with you.”
Tamamori lets himself be led over to the bed on wobbly legs, barely making it out of his clothes before collapsing on top of the bedspread. Miyata is forced to work it out from under him, Tamamori no help at all. But Tamamori is smiling at Miyata in that satisfied, half-blissed out way he does, and so Miyata really doesn’t mind.
“Miyacchiiiiii,” Tamamori whines when Miyata takes his time getting things from his bag to place on the nightstand. When Miyata turns around, Tamamori has an arm flung out across the bed, lazily reaching for him. Miyata bites back a grin.
“Yes?”
“Come to bed!” Tamamori demands, and then Miyata can’t hold his smile anymore.
“Yes sir!” he says, throwing Tamamori a quick salute before reaching down to strip off his pants. He tosses them onto the other bed and kneels next to Tamamori. He’s planning to pull off his shirt as well, but his boyfriend has other ideas now that Miyata is within reach. Miyata nearly hits his nose on Tamamori’s chin, overbalancing when Tamamori pulls him down.
Ah, but he can work with this too, Miyata thinks, sighing into the kiss as Tamamori runs his hands across Miyata’s back, up under his shirt, the warmth of his palms sinking into Miyata’s skin. And it’s pretty hot, having Tamamori all relaxed and pliant beneath him.
Although Tamamori’s kisses become less focused as he starts to drift off and Miyata gives him a quick nip on his bottom lip.
Tamamori squeaks. “Hey! What was that for?”
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Miyata tells him. “I’m not done with you yet.” He rubs himself against Tamamori’s hip as a reminder, only half hard and not looking for much more at the moment. He has plans.
Tamamori hums in agreement. “Whatever you want.”
“Yes,” Miyata says, grinning. “You did say that.” He lets his grin turn a bit sharp when Tamamori blinks at him.
“You don’t... want to fuck me?” Tamamori asks, clearly sensing that things aren’t going to go quite as usual. He doesn’t look worried, though, just slightly confused, and it makes happiness spread through Miyata’s chest at the knowledge that Tamamori really does feel that comfortable with him.
“No, I do,” Miyata corrects, sitting back. “But you’re going to do some of the work tonight.”
“Hm?”
Miyata nearly laughs at Tamamori’s small pout, but it’s cute, and so he lets it slide.
“Here,” Miyata says, reaching over to snag the lube from the nightstand and handing it to Tamamori. “I want to watch you.” He feels his heart speed up a bit just from actually saying it out loud.
He very rarely makes demands, more than happy to go along with whatever Tamamori wants, and it’s not a request he’d normally make even if he were the one giving orders. He generally prefers getting Tamamori ready himself; he loves the way Tamamori loves it, the way he pushes back against Miyata’s fingers and begs for more. But today he feels like watching, and he wants to see Tamamori get himself all hot and bothered before Miyata even touches him.
Tamamori blushes, uncontrollable as usual, but he accepts the lube from Miyata without a noticeable change of expression.
“Oh,” he says. “Okay. Um. Can I... touch myself?”
Miyata laughs softly, genuinely delighted that Tamamori is asking - it wasn’t the type of game he was intending to play. “Yes, of course.”
Tamamori has already come, and although he rather enjoys being fingered, Miyata knows it’s not all that comfortable when he’s not somewhat aroused to begin with.
Miyata finally strips off his shirt as Tamamori gets started, not minding the second or two he misses as the fabric blocks his view. He chucks the shirt across to his own bed and follows up with his underwear, settling down to watch once he’s free of his clothes.
Tamamori is stroking himself lightly, looking comfortable, although he squirms a bit and gets slightly more serious once he’s got Miyata’s full attention. It’s only another minute before he reaches down with his other hand to brush a finger across his entrance, and then Miyata is squirming instead, shifting to adjust himself as he grows harder.
It feels almost awkward to stare as Tamamori slides a finger into himself, but then Miyata remembers that this is exactly what he asked for, and that Tamamori doesn’t mind.
“Spread your legs more,” he tells him, reaching out to push gently at Tamamori’s knee, and although he feels as embarrassed as Tamamori looks, he doesn’t take it back, and Tamamori follows directions.
It’s different from preparing Tamamori himself. When he’s doing the work, Miyata has to focus on Tamamori’s reactions, on making sure that he’s not hurting him, or that he’s enjoying it, going more by feel and watching Tamamori’s face. And his face is quite worth watching. But at the moment, Miyata is realizing again just how hot it can be to sit back and observe, his breath catching with arousal as Tamamori slides his finger in to the third knuckle.
Miyata can’t stop himself from worrying when Tamamori adds a second finger.
“Aren’t you going too fast?” he asks, dragging his gaze up to search Tamamori’s face. Despite his continued stroking with his other hand, Tamamori isn’t getting hard, and Miyata doesn’t want him to rush when it’s too soon.
Tamamori shakes his head. “No, it... feels really good,” he says, his voice catching on a soft gasp as he slides his fingers most of the way out and then back in again. “‘might not get it up again for a bit, but it’s good.” He closes his eyes in apparent pleasure at the next slide of his fingers, and Miyata bites his own lip to keep from whimpering.
After another minute or two, Miyata decides that making Tamamori do the work doesn’t mean being hands-off. He reaches out to touch his knee again, but this time it’s only so that Miyata can trace distracting patterns across his skin, paying no attention to the designs he makes and wanting only to feel Tamamori beneath his fingers.
It reaches a point where Miyata has a hard time not touching himself, his breathing fast enough to match Tamamori’s, and it’s possible that he’s gotten the timing all wrong, because Tamamori is still only half hard and Miyata’s not sure he can wait much longer.
“Miyacchi,” Tamamori breathes, and Miyata refocuses.
“Yeah?”
“I’m ready.”
Miyata shakes his head. “But you’re not...” He reaches his hand down to wrap his fingers around Tamamori’s on his cock. Tamamori pushes him away.
“I’ll get there,” Tamamori insists. “Probably a lot faster if you just fuck me. Because this is awkward,” he explains, pulling his fingers from within himself and twisting to stretch the kink out of his shoulder. Miyata just stares at his hole for a moment, fascinated by the way Tamamori’s body has been stretched open, waiting just for him.
“Stop staring,” Tamamori whispers, flushed all the way down his chest, but Miyata doesn’t do any such thing. He puts his hands on Tamamori’s knees to keep him from closing them, and watches as the edges of his hole clench at the air.
“You said anything,” Miyata reminds him, “So today you’ll let me look as much as I want.” He doesn’t ask, not as he normally would, and feels a little thrill go through himself for being so demanding. He can certainly see why Tamamori enjoys it so much.
“Please, Miyacchi?”
“Nope,” Miyata says again. “Not gonna stop.”
“I mean please. Toshiya. Don’t wait?” Tamamori clarifies, and when Miyata looks up, Tamamori meets his eye, and Miyata loses.
“Okay,” he says, shifting so he can get into position. “But...” Miyata eyes the packages on the nightstand, and then looks back down at Tamamori. “Can I do it without a condom tonight?”
For this he will ask, because it’s a little much to just demand. They really only use them because Tamamori doesn’t enjoy the messy aftereffect of sex without one, but they haven’t been with anyone but each other for a few years, and Miyata doesn’t mind asking Tamamori to put up with it once in a while.
Tamamori hesitates for a moment, but then agrees. Some more lube, and he’s ready.
Miyata stops breathing as he pushes inside, hitching Tamamori’s hips up for a better angle and sliding in until he can’t go any further. It’s good, really really good, and Miyata leans down to press his forehead against Tamamori’s shoulder as Tamamori’s arms come up around his back. He rests like this for a moment, shaking with the effort of not moving as Tamamori pants into his hair.
“Come on,” Tamamori murmurs, shifting beneath him, and Miyata gives up on holding back. Tamamori is hot and tight around him, and he makes beautiful soft noises as Miyata starts up, fucking him deep and slow.
Tamamori is hard again by the time Miyata gets close, whining for more, so Miyata doesn’t feel too bad about being a little selfish. He shifts so that he’s kneeling rather than sprawled out on top of Tamamori, and although Tamamori pouts at the distance that puts between them, it gives Miyata a great view and even better control. Tamamori doesn’t seem to have any complains when Miyata thrusts into him hard enough that Tamamori is forced to grab onto the sheets to keep himself from sliding, and only arches into Miyata’s touch when Miyata grabs his hips to anchor him. He looks so good like that, all spread out and wanting, feels so good, and Miyata can’t wait any longer.
“Yuta,” he gasps, and hears Tamamori cry out with him as Miyata comes, pushing in and spilling himself as deeply as he can.
Miyata loves the way he can feel every bit of Tamamori, absolutely nothing between them, as he pulls out. Tamamori’s body clenches around him, trying to pull him in the same way Tamamori reaches up to pull Miyata down.
“Please, please,” he whispers, wrapping even his legs around Miyata to stop Miyata from pulling away.
Miyata smiles, a burst of affection constricting his breath as he tries to gently disentangle himself from Tamamori, despite protests. “Come on, Yuta,” he says, fighting off Tamamori’s attempts to cling. “I’ll get you off in the shower.”
“Now,” Tamamori demands, and Miyata loves him for it. He bites his lip so that he doesn’t laugh, entirely thrilled with the world.
“Be patient for just a little bit,” Miyata tells him. “You’re gonna regret it later if you stay here,” he reminds, because he knows that if Tamamori starts dripping, he’s going to be very cranky about it. He’s got about thirty seconds to get him into the bathroom if he doesn’t want Tamamori to be very annoyed later.
But Tamamori isn’t being cooperative, just whining at him and clutching tightly, and so Miyata gets his hands under his boyfriend and takes a deep breath.
“Okay, okay. Just... hold on tight,” Miyata tells him, and then Tamamori squeaks as Miyata lifts him from the bed.
Tamamori is heavy, and it’s a really good thing that it’s only a couple of stumbling steps from the bed to the bathroom, because Miyata’s not sure he can manage more than that.
Tamamori is laughing when Miyata lets him down in the bathtub, hard enough that his legs barely hold him up when Miyata tries to let go.
“You!” he splutters, seemingly amused and amazed, distracted enough that Miyata can pull away long enough to reach over and close the door. Miyata is able to turn on and adjust the water, Tamamori running hands over whichever parts of Miyata he can reach. When Miyata finally pushes Tamamori into the spray and kneels before him, he can see the water rinse away the come that’s started to trickle down the insides of Tamamori’s thighs. The bathroom was a good call.
Tamamori is looking at him when Miyata looks up, and his hands tighten their grip on Miyata’s shoulders, his face momentarily unreadable.
“Tell me,” Miyata demands while it still seems that Tamamori will listen to him. He wants to hear him.
Tamamori’s eyes flash, and then he says something entirely unexpected.
“I love you.”
Miyata’s fingers tighten on Tamamori’s in surprise.
“That’s... not what I meant,” he manages, not wanting Tamamori to feel like he’s being forced to say those kind of things.
“I know,” Tamamori replies, and lifts a hand from Miyata’s shoulder to stroke through his hair instead. “But it’s what I meant.”
Miyata feels like his heart is going to explode, the pressure in his chest too much for him to speak. He’s pretty sure Tamamori can read the happiness in his eyes, though, because Tamamori just grins and closes his own, waiting patiently. And Miyata finds he doesn’t have to say anything back, because Tamamori already knows.
Character/Pairing: Tamamori/Miyata
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Sometimes Tamamori isn't so predictable. Sometimes.
AN: For mousapelli's birthday, a billion days too late. :x I had it almost sort of done on time, but it stalled and I never figured out how to finish it. Still not sure I have, but now I hate looking at it, so I give up. At least there's porn?
Sayings
Actions speak louder than words, says the old adage, and Miyata believes it. He still wishes Tamamori would stop blatantly lying about his feelings for Miyata (or supposed lack of them), but he can’t bring himself to argue too forcefully when Tamamori is regularly sharing his bed.
By the time they get back to the hotel, Tamamori doesn’t even bother with a token protest anymore. Miyata kisses him and he immediately kisses back, twisting his hands into the front of Miyata’s shirt to pull him closer, insistent. Tamamori has no use for his sweet nothings today, and that’s okay with Miyata, too.
“Whoa, whoa! What’s the rush?” Miyata pulls back to ask when Tamamori’s kisses turn even more demanding. It takes a bit of effort to keep breathing-distance between them. Miyata jerks back when Tamamori tries to kiss him again without answering. “Hey!”
Tamamori pouts when he realizes Miyata is serious. “What?” he asks. “Can’t I just want you?”
“Sure,” Miyata answers. “But you usually aren’t so...”
“So what?” Tamamori wants to know, leaning back in until Miyata can feel Tamamori’s breath on his lips.
“So... forceful?” Miyata tries, although he’s not sure that’s the right word, exactly.
To his surprise, Tamamori’s face flares red. “Is that bad?” Tamamori asks, pulling back a few centimeters.
Miyata blinks. “Um. No. Just... unusual?” He tries to catch Tamamori’s eye, although Tamamori seems distracted by Miyata’s mouth. “Did something happen today?”
“No,” Tamamori shakes his head, but he’s still staring at Miyata’s lips. “I just... feel like it,” he says when Miyata waits him out. “Come on, can I just kiss you already?”
Miyata tries to hold back a smile as Tamamori’s blush spreads down to disappear beneath the neckline of his shirt. “You just feel like it?” he echoes, and he knows he’s just torturing Tamamori now, but it’s too much fun to get him all worked up.
“It happens sometimes, okay,” Tamamori snaps, but he ruins any effect he might have had by leaning in again. He pouts again when Miyata frustrates his efforts. “Ugh, Miyacchi!”
“Tell me you’re just randomly horny.” Miyata grins at him.
“I hate you so much,” Tamamori says.
“Say it.”
“Fine,” Tamamori grits out. “I am just randomly horny. And I have the most obnoxious boyfriend ever,” he adds. “Now kiss me before I go deal with it myself.”
Miyata certainly won’t allow for that, though, and so he gives in, his grin making their kiss awkward as he finally lets Tamamori close enough again.
Even though he teases him about it, Miyata likes Tamamori like this, all desperate. If Miyata is honest, it’s not too difficult to get him that way, but it’s not so common that he starts out as such. He is forceful - Miyata had been right - leaning into Miyata hard enough that they can’t stay balanced, a slow, steady progress of tripping steps as Miyata tries to stay upright, until his back hits the wall and finds some support. Tamamori doesn’t seem to notice, intent as he is on trying to lick his way down Miyata’s throat. The lack of any of his usual technique nearly makes Miyata laugh, but there’s also a complete lack of restraint that Miyata finds rather hot.
Tamamori isn’t hiding anything today, no hesitance, no coyness, and his open desire for Miyata makes up for just about everything else.
“Suck me off,” Tamamori mutters against his mouth, flexing his hips against Miyata’s, and while Miyata’s only just started to get interested, Tamamori is already there, hard against his thigh when Miyata shifts his leg.
“What’s in it for me?” Miyata wants to know. He’d do it for nothing, just because Tamamori asked, but at the moment, Tamamori might be more agreeable to some of Miyata’s less reasonable demands.
“Anything you want,” is Tamamori’s reply, and Miyata knows he’s guessed right.
“Do I have to name a price right now?”
“No,” Tamamori says, pushing at his shoulders. “Just hurry up.”
An open-ended deal. Sweet. Miyata drops to his knees.
Tamamori feels good on his tongue when Miyata doesn’t make him wait, taking him in as far as he can. Miyata pinches at his hip when he moans loud enough that Miyata worries about Fujigaya next door, but Tamamori doesn’t quiet down and Miyata decides that Fujigaya will just have to deal. It’s worth Fujigaya’s bitching to have Tamamori clutching at him the way he is, fingers tight in Miyata’s hair, thighs already shaking beneath Miyata’s hands.
Miyata hums in encouragement and Tamamori tenses all over, not even muffling his groan as he comes. He shakes even harder as Miyata works him through it, and Miyata is forced to lean his full body weight against Tamamori’s legs so that Tamamori doesn’t slide to the floor in a heap.
“Come on, Yuta,” Miyata says when his mouth is no longer full, standing up to catch Tamamori before he falls. “To bed with you.”
Tamamori lets himself be led over to the bed on wobbly legs, barely making it out of his clothes before collapsing on top of the bedspread. Miyata is forced to work it out from under him, Tamamori no help at all. But Tamamori is smiling at Miyata in that satisfied, half-blissed out way he does, and so Miyata really doesn’t mind.
“Miyacchiiiiii,” Tamamori whines when Miyata takes his time getting things from his bag to place on the nightstand. When Miyata turns around, Tamamori has an arm flung out across the bed, lazily reaching for him. Miyata bites back a grin.
“Yes?”
“Come to bed!” Tamamori demands, and then Miyata can’t hold his smile anymore.
“Yes sir!” he says, throwing Tamamori a quick salute before reaching down to strip off his pants. He tosses them onto the other bed and kneels next to Tamamori. He’s planning to pull off his shirt as well, but his boyfriend has other ideas now that Miyata is within reach. Miyata nearly hits his nose on Tamamori’s chin, overbalancing when Tamamori pulls him down.
Ah, but he can work with this too, Miyata thinks, sighing into the kiss as Tamamori runs his hands across Miyata’s back, up under his shirt, the warmth of his palms sinking into Miyata’s skin. And it’s pretty hot, having Tamamori all relaxed and pliant beneath him.
Although Tamamori’s kisses become less focused as he starts to drift off and Miyata gives him a quick nip on his bottom lip.
Tamamori squeaks. “Hey! What was that for?”
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Miyata tells him. “I’m not done with you yet.” He rubs himself against Tamamori’s hip as a reminder, only half hard and not looking for much more at the moment. He has plans.
Tamamori hums in agreement. “Whatever you want.”
“Yes,” Miyata says, grinning. “You did say that.” He lets his grin turn a bit sharp when Tamamori blinks at him.
“You don’t... want to fuck me?” Tamamori asks, clearly sensing that things aren’t going to go quite as usual. He doesn’t look worried, though, just slightly confused, and it makes happiness spread through Miyata’s chest at the knowledge that Tamamori really does feel that comfortable with him.
“No, I do,” Miyata corrects, sitting back. “But you’re going to do some of the work tonight.”
“Hm?”
Miyata nearly laughs at Tamamori’s small pout, but it’s cute, and so he lets it slide.
“Here,” Miyata says, reaching over to snag the lube from the nightstand and handing it to Tamamori. “I want to watch you.” He feels his heart speed up a bit just from actually saying it out loud.
He very rarely makes demands, more than happy to go along with whatever Tamamori wants, and it’s not a request he’d normally make even if he were the one giving orders. He generally prefers getting Tamamori ready himself; he loves the way Tamamori loves it, the way he pushes back against Miyata’s fingers and begs for more. But today he feels like watching, and he wants to see Tamamori get himself all hot and bothered before Miyata even touches him.
Tamamori blushes, uncontrollable as usual, but he accepts the lube from Miyata without a noticeable change of expression.
“Oh,” he says. “Okay. Um. Can I... touch myself?”
Miyata laughs softly, genuinely delighted that Tamamori is asking - it wasn’t the type of game he was intending to play. “Yes, of course.”
Tamamori has already come, and although he rather enjoys being fingered, Miyata knows it’s not all that comfortable when he’s not somewhat aroused to begin with.
Miyata finally strips off his shirt as Tamamori gets started, not minding the second or two he misses as the fabric blocks his view. He chucks the shirt across to his own bed and follows up with his underwear, settling down to watch once he’s free of his clothes.
Tamamori is stroking himself lightly, looking comfortable, although he squirms a bit and gets slightly more serious once he’s got Miyata’s full attention. It’s only another minute before he reaches down with his other hand to brush a finger across his entrance, and then Miyata is squirming instead, shifting to adjust himself as he grows harder.
It feels almost awkward to stare as Tamamori slides a finger into himself, but then Miyata remembers that this is exactly what he asked for, and that Tamamori doesn’t mind.
“Spread your legs more,” he tells him, reaching out to push gently at Tamamori’s knee, and although he feels as embarrassed as Tamamori looks, he doesn’t take it back, and Tamamori follows directions.
It’s different from preparing Tamamori himself. When he’s doing the work, Miyata has to focus on Tamamori’s reactions, on making sure that he’s not hurting him, or that he’s enjoying it, going more by feel and watching Tamamori’s face. And his face is quite worth watching. But at the moment, Miyata is realizing again just how hot it can be to sit back and observe, his breath catching with arousal as Tamamori slides his finger in to the third knuckle.
Miyata can’t stop himself from worrying when Tamamori adds a second finger.
“Aren’t you going too fast?” he asks, dragging his gaze up to search Tamamori’s face. Despite his continued stroking with his other hand, Tamamori isn’t getting hard, and Miyata doesn’t want him to rush when it’s too soon.
Tamamori shakes his head. “No, it... feels really good,” he says, his voice catching on a soft gasp as he slides his fingers most of the way out and then back in again. “‘might not get it up again for a bit, but it’s good.” He closes his eyes in apparent pleasure at the next slide of his fingers, and Miyata bites his own lip to keep from whimpering.
After another minute or two, Miyata decides that making Tamamori do the work doesn’t mean being hands-off. He reaches out to touch his knee again, but this time it’s only so that Miyata can trace distracting patterns across his skin, paying no attention to the designs he makes and wanting only to feel Tamamori beneath his fingers.
It reaches a point where Miyata has a hard time not touching himself, his breathing fast enough to match Tamamori’s, and it’s possible that he’s gotten the timing all wrong, because Tamamori is still only half hard and Miyata’s not sure he can wait much longer.
“Miyacchi,” Tamamori breathes, and Miyata refocuses.
“Yeah?”
“I’m ready.”
Miyata shakes his head. “But you’re not...” He reaches his hand down to wrap his fingers around Tamamori’s on his cock. Tamamori pushes him away.
“I’ll get there,” Tamamori insists. “Probably a lot faster if you just fuck me. Because this is awkward,” he explains, pulling his fingers from within himself and twisting to stretch the kink out of his shoulder. Miyata just stares at his hole for a moment, fascinated by the way Tamamori’s body has been stretched open, waiting just for him.
“Stop staring,” Tamamori whispers, flushed all the way down his chest, but Miyata doesn’t do any such thing. He puts his hands on Tamamori’s knees to keep him from closing them, and watches as the edges of his hole clench at the air.
“You said anything,” Miyata reminds him, “So today you’ll let me look as much as I want.” He doesn’t ask, not as he normally would, and feels a little thrill go through himself for being so demanding. He can certainly see why Tamamori enjoys it so much.
“Please, Miyacchi?”
“Nope,” Miyata says again. “Not gonna stop.”
“I mean please. Toshiya. Don’t wait?” Tamamori clarifies, and when Miyata looks up, Tamamori meets his eye, and Miyata loses.
“Okay,” he says, shifting so he can get into position. “But...” Miyata eyes the packages on the nightstand, and then looks back down at Tamamori. “Can I do it without a condom tonight?”
For this he will ask, because it’s a little much to just demand. They really only use them because Tamamori doesn’t enjoy the messy aftereffect of sex without one, but they haven’t been with anyone but each other for a few years, and Miyata doesn’t mind asking Tamamori to put up with it once in a while.
Tamamori hesitates for a moment, but then agrees. Some more lube, and he’s ready.
Miyata stops breathing as he pushes inside, hitching Tamamori’s hips up for a better angle and sliding in until he can’t go any further. It’s good, really really good, and Miyata leans down to press his forehead against Tamamori’s shoulder as Tamamori’s arms come up around his back. He rests like this for a moment, shaking with the effort of not moving as Tamamori pants into his hair.
“Come on,” Tamamori murmurs, shifting beneath him, and Miyata gives up on holding back. Tamamori is hot and tight around him, and he makes beautiful soft noises as Miyata starts up, fucking him deep and slow.
Tamamori is hard again by the time Miyata gets close, whining for more, so Miyata doesn’t feel too bad about being a little selfish. He shifts so that he’s kneeling rather than sprawled out on top of Tamamori, and although Tamamori pouts at the distance that puts between them, it gives Miyata a great view and even better control. Tamamori doesn’t seem to have any complains when Miyata thrusts into him hard enough that Tamamori is forced to grab onto the sheets to keep himself from sliding, and only arches into Miyata’s touch when Miyata grabs his hips to anchor him. He looks so good like that, all spread out and wanting, feels so good, and Miyata can’t wait any longer.
“Yuta,” he gasps, and hears Tamamori cry out with him as Miyata comes, pushing in and spilling himself as deeply as he can.
Miyata loves the way he can feel every bit of Tamamori, absolutely nothing between them, as he pulls out. Tamamori’s body clenches around him, trying to pull him in the same way Tamamori reaches up to pull Miyata down.
“Please, please,” he whispers, wrapping even his legs around Miyata to stop Miyata from pulling away.
Miyata smiles, a burst of affection constricting his breath as he tries to gently disentangle himself from Tamamori, despite protests. “Come on, Yuta,” he says, fighting off Tamamori’s attempts to cling. “I’ll get you off in the shower.”
“Now,” Tamamori demands, and Miyata loves him for it. He bites his lip so that he doesn’t laugh, entirely thrilled with the world.
“Be patient for just a little bit,” Miyata tells him. “You’re gonna regret it later if you stay here,” he reminds, because he knows that if Tamamori starts dripping, he’s going to be very cranky about it. He’s got about thirty seconds to get him into the bathroom if he doesn’t want Tamamori to be very annoyed later.
But Tamamori isn’t being cooperative, just whining at him and clutching tightly, and so Miyata gets his hands under his boyfriend and takes a deep breath.
“Okay, okay. Just... hold on tight,” Miyata tells him, and then Tamamori squeaks as Miyata lifts him from the bed.
Tamamori is heavy, and it’s a really good thing that it’s only a couple of stumbling steps from the bed to the bathroom, because Miyata’s not sure he can manage more than that.
Tamamori is laughing when Miyata lets him down in the bathtub, hard enough that his legs barely hold him up when Miyata tries to let go.
“You!” he splutters, seemingly amused and amazed, distracted enough that Miyata can pull away long enough to reach over and close the door. Miyata is able to turn on and adjust the water, Tamamori running hands over whichever parts of Miyata he can reach. When Miyata finally pushes Tamamori into the spray and kneels before him, he can see the water rinse away the come that’s started to trickle down the insides of Tamamori’s thighs. The bathroom was a good call.
Tamamori is looking at him when Miyata looks up, and his hands tighten their grip on Miyata’s shoulders, his face momentarily unreadable.
“Tell me,” Miyata demands while it still seems that Tamamori will listen to him. He wants to hear him.
Tamamori’s eyes flash, and then he says something entirely unexpected.
“I love you.”
Miyata’s fingers tighten on Tamamori’s in surprise.
“That’s... not what I meant,” he manages, not wanting Tamamori to feel like he’s being forced to say those kind of things.
“I know,” Tamamori replies, and lifts a hand from Miyata’s shoulder to stroke through his hair instead. “But it’s what I meant.”
Miyata feels like his heart is going to explode, the pressure in his chest too much for him to speak. He’s pretty sure Tamamori can read the happiness in his eyes, though, because Tamamori just grins and closes his own, waiting patiently. And Miyata finds he doesn’t have to say anything back, because Tamamori already knows.