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It’s not always a sex thing.
Corpse will be sitting in his studio, scrambling after deadlines with a rapidly-rising heartbeat, breath coming in hot and fast as the panic rises, until Sykkuno wraps a hand around him, grounds him until he’s lax.
He’ll hold Corpse’s back to his chest, pushing the other man into him with enough pressure to even out his breathing, before turning his motions to caresses, thumbs soothing out the knots in Corpse’s shoulders. Corpse cries in these moments, sometimes — just a tear or two, white-knuckled on the arms of his desk chair when the emotion gets a little too much for him to contain.
Sykkuno always holds him through it, only turns to meet his eyes when he’s sure Corpse won’t avert his gaze. He knows Corpse hates being vulnerable, and he tries to give the other man the pretence of ignorance. But he’s always there, open-armed. Sykkuno likes being there for him, likes the control of it; he enjoys the way Corpse relaxes into him instantly, the submission of Corpse’s life in his hands.
It’s also one of the only things that can soothe Corpse’s temper. Corpse isn’t aggressive, never properly physical with it, but Sykkuno sometimes feels the anger radiating off him so tangibly that he can’t ignore it.
Corpse slams the front door behind them both, one day, after a particularly nasty encounter with a group of men shouting slurs outside the 7/11. Sykkuno’s in front of him, so he turns, hand on Corpse’s chest before he even knows what he’s doing. He backs him into the door, slow, eyes searching Corpse’s for recognition. When Corpse’s shoulder blades nudge the wood, Sykkuno presses harder and Corpse lets out an exhale, slow and shaky, as he tilts his head back.
Sykkuno takes care of him, then, gentle squeezes followed by whispered encouragements. When their breathing falls in sync, Sykkuno gently lets go and leads Corpse to the couch. They fall asleep on top of each other with re-runs of Friends playing in the background (Corpse always dismisses the notion that he might actually enjoy the show, and Sykkuno pretends to believe him).
Sometimes, Sykkuno just gets the feeling that he needs to feel Corpse’s trust. Needs to feel like he has some semblance of control. Like when he gets off the phone with his managing team after a week of ‘disappointing levels of engagement’. It rattles Sykkuno, to feel as though he’s doing bad at his job. He works so hard, and what for? He feels his palm flex, curl in on itself, hears Corpse humming in the kitchen.
Corpse is cutting vegetables (with a butterfly knife? If Sykkuno hadn’t been in such a bad mood, he might even have laughed). He perks up when he hears Sykkuno enter, but falters when he watches the wobbling of Sykkuno’s lower lip. He puts down the knife and slips a hand round Sykkuno’s waist.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He presses a kiss to the shorter man’s hair.
Sykkuno can’t even verbalise his emotions, just traces the pads of his fingers along the side of Corpse’s neck, meets his eyes to ask permission. Corpse grants him the lengthening of his jugular, holds Sykkuno close as the fingers contract around his neck. Sykkuno feels the tension drain from his shoulders, feels Corpse lean into him. They’re grounded together, and it only takes a couple rounds for Sykkuno to almost forget why he’d needed it in the first place.
He kisses the corner of Corpse’s mouth when they’re done, and offers to help out in the kitchen. Corpse smiles like he knows Sykkuno doesn’t wanna talk about it.
//
But most of the time, it’s a sex thing.
Sykkuno gets home from the store, shakes the rain out of his hair when he starts to shiver, putting everything away. Corpse doesn’t seem to be around, but under the thrum of lofi in his ears, Sykkuno hears faint noises coming from their bedroom. He grabs the popcorn from the bottom of the last bag.
“Hey, baby, you in here? I got us—”
The sight that greets him as he opens the door makes his jaw drop. He forgets to breathe, almost, mimicking the way Corpse’s breath hitches when he notices him hovering in the doorway.
He’s got a hand around his own throat, back arched off the bed, with the other hand down the front of his joggers. Sykkuno can see the sharp line of his hipbone, the smooth planes of his shirtless chest, and the flex of his neck, straining against the hand it’s gripped by. Corpse makes a keening noise at all the attention, eyes locked on Sykkuno’s as he resumes the motions of his hands.
Sykkuno thinks he lets out a growl as he haphazardly strips off the outer layers of his clothes, moves towards the bed and hooks his hands under the other man’s knees, pulls him towards the edge. With his hands on hot skin, Sykkuno can’t help but shiver. Lust floods through him, surprises him with its intensity.
He takes a moment to savour the look that Corpse is giving him, pure bliss, as he runs soft fingers over all the skin he can reach, feeling it flutter under his touch. He eases Corpse’s hand off his throat, when he know he’s had too much, and hooks an arm around his back to bring them face-to-face, Corpse now sat at the edge of the bed, bracketing Sykkuno’s hips.
Sykkuno definitely does growl, this time, nudges Corpse’s chin up with his lips. “You know you’re not supposed to do this without me.” It’s a low rumble against Corpse’s throat, followed by open kisses and the hint of teeth to make Corpse scratch a path under Sykkuno’s shirt.
“I-I couldn’t wait, baby, need your hands.” His breathing’s almost back to normal, so Sykkuno pretends to consider it. Sucks a hickey into the base of his neck, and another one, Corpse writhing in anticipation.
He pulls back and takes Corpse with him, lips locking until they’re huffing into each other’s mouths. “You’re gonna fuck me against the wall,” Sykkuno sees Corpse’s knees shake, “so you’ve gotta be strong enough to keep me there.”
Corpse whimpers again, kisses pleas into Sykkuno’s skin as he strips them of their pants and backs him into the wall. Sykkuno braces himself for his head to hit the brick, but Corpse’s hand behind him cushions the bang.
He’s swift with the Astroglide, teases a finger into Sykkuno and bites at the skin on the side of his neck. Sykkuno revels in the feeling of it, urges him on until another cool finger joins the other one, a gasp pulled from Sykkuno’s mouth. He hitches a leg around Corpse’s waist, giving him better access.
Before long, he’s begging for it. Whispered pleading into Corpse’s sweaty chest, the teasing of a hand around his neck to pick up the pace.
“Fuckkkk, Sykkuno, just another minute baby.” He punctuates his words with a particularly glorious twist of his fingers, followed by a third.
Sykkuno pulls sharply on Corpse’s hair, earning another bite, and he pushes down onto Corpse’s fingers. “C-corpse, please, fuck—“
Corpse loves it when Sykkuno swears, and Sykkuno’s aware of the affect it has on him with eyes dilating ever-so-slightly wider. Corpse groans and moves his hips in time with his fingers, before removing them entirely.
The discomfort of the action flashes across Sykkuno’s face, briefly, before it’s replace with that slack-jawed, back-arched expression that makes Corpse’s body thrum. Corpse hitches both of Sykkuno’s legs firmly around his waist, presses their foreheads together as he lets their dicks brush, untouched, between them.
It’s the whimpered, stuttering, p-please, that falls (almost involuntarily) from Sykkuno’s mouth that does it. Biting his lower lip, Corpse eases his way into Sykkuno, eyes tracking his face to guide the pace of his movements.
Sykkuno smiles, dazed, when Corpse finally fills him all the way. It’s almost agonising, the way he has to watch Corpse’s face scrunch with the effort of holding back. But he wants this to last.
They kiss each other messily, sharing brief laughs and clips of teeth as they both adjust. And then Corpse is moving, hands on Sykkuno’s ass to hold him up. Sykkuno has to bite his lip from groaning with it, the feeling of— right there — being full, finally, and the way Corpse knows his body so well.
Corpse whimpers, straining, and Sykkuno remembers his promise. He strokes Corpse’s cheek, pulls him impossibly closer with the squeezing of his thighs, and cups his hand around Corpse’s windpipe. Their eyes lock, and Sykkuno adds pressure when Corpse aims a brutal thrust right where Sykkuno wants it.
Oxygen deprivation colours Corpse the perfect mix of disheveled, eyelashes heavier than usual, cheeks flushed beautifully. When Sykkuno feels Corpse’s thighs begin to tremble, he lets up and watches as, momentarily, something akin to ecstasy washes over Corpse’s features.
Corpse rewards him with a quickening of his pace, deeper, nails digging into his ass so Sykkuno knows he’ll feel it in the morning.
Sykkuno returns the gesture with both hands curling around Corpse’s neck, and now he can really feel the amount of life that he holds in this moment. Corpse’s eyes on him are divine, calculating Sykkuno’s reactions to every roll of his hips, widening as he feels their pleasure build.
It’s with reluctance that Sykkuno relaxes his fingers once more, when Corpse’s gasps become ragged and desperate. He leaves his hands rested there, though, overlapping on tender skin. Corpse shudders and adjusts his grip, thrusts growing frantic, aiming for that one place that makes Sykkuno- “Fuuhhh- C-corpse” - and screw his eyes shut for a second.
The teasing grin twisting Corpse’s mouth has Sykkuno flexing his hands again, leaning in to steal the breath from his lips, too. He murmurs agains Corpse’s gasps, “j-just like that, come on. So close, baby,” and kisses him with a fervour that fuels the jagged motion of the man’s hips, thrusting up further and faster into Sykkuno.
Corpse’s eyes get wide, wider, until he’s not even really breathing at all, just losing the pace with abandon as he comes deep inside Sykkuno, eyes shut and mouth huffing out a last breath. Sykkuno’s so enraptured by his reactions, so in awe, that Corpse’s hand thumbing over his dick has him coming all over their stomachs, hands releasing from around Corpse’s neck to pull the man closer by his shoulders.
Corpse takes them back over to the bed and nearly collapses with a thud on top of Sykkuno, barely managing to brace his arms either side of him. The kisses he presses all over Sykkuno’s torso are open and hot, gratitude pouring out onto his skin.
Sykkuno grips his hair, brings him up so their faces are level, and devours that mouth with slow, careful presses of lips and tongue until they’re both breathless all over again.
“I fucking love you.” That voice, it shakes Sykkuno to the core every time.
“I love you too. You’re so good to me.” Corpse blushes, pulling Sykkuno in for another kiss to hide it.
Sykkuno smirks into his mouth and pulls the blankets around them. They lie semi-facing each other, still with fingers caressing and mouths exploring lazily. Corpse even slots their legs together.
“I’m serious about you choking yourself when you’re home alone, though, I don’t want—”
“I started when I heard you come in,” Corpse admits, “I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to surprise you — I know, like, that you like it, uh, as much as I do.”
Sykkuno sucks in a breath and trails a hand up Corpse’s side, aimless in its path. “You do?”
Corpse laughs, a high (for Corpse) broken sound that lights up his face, then moves to whisper lowly in Sykkuno’s ear. “I had my cock up your ass five minutes ago, don’t act innocent with me, Sy.” Even the way he says his name has Sykkuno hot again.
Sykkuno groans and pretends to be annoyed at how easily Corpse can turn him on. “Stoppp, that’s your fuck me voice, and if we have sex again so soon I might actually die.” Sykkuno mock pouts and looks up at Corpse with pleading eyed.
“Stop what, baby? My fuck me voice?” Corpse rumbles again, fingers flitting over the cluster of bruises he’d sucked into Sykkuno’s skin earlier.
Sykkuno represses the shiver he feels running through his spine and just pulls Corpse closer, mumbles into his chest. “Nap now, sex when we wake up.” He feels happy with that compromise.
By the sounds of things, Corpse does, too — a happy rumble echoes through both of their chests, and the teasing hand over his shoulder rests, instead, firmly up his back.
For now, they drift into a dreamless sleep, wrapped up in the afterglow.
Later, Sykkuno will wake to his palm resting on Corpse’s jugular, and a possessive warmth will flood through them both.