Work Text:
Mikoshiba had spent enough time with Mayu, first as friends and recently as something more, to have developed an high sense of attunement to his energy levels. Mayu was lazy as a rule, like his switch was stuck on energy saving mode, but the fluctuations in his degree of laziness were crucial--on a good day, he would gamely follow Mikoshiba around the mall for hours, as long as they used the escalators; on a bad day, he could barely hold his own head up.
The worst were days like this, after judo matches. When Mayu competed, every scrap of energy that he had hoarded over weeks or months would pour out all at once on the mat, staggering his opponents and quite frankly leaving Mikoshiba breathless when he saw it. Mayu was beautiful in judo; his movements were still sparing and efficient, but he was fast. Mikoshiba hadn't realized why his mouth had gone dry the first time he’d seen Mayu flip and pin an opponent to the mat in a single motion, but he'd gotten there eventually. The only thing better than watching Mayu fight was when Mayu spared some of that energy on him, pushing him flat against some surface with a sudden gleam in his eye.
This, though, was not going to be one of those times.
“Mmm,” Mayu hummed from near his thigh. They were on Mikoshiba’s bed, Mikoshiba sitting up to read a magazine and Mayu lying motionless next to him, examining the ceiling. “Mmmmm,” Mayu said again after a moment, more insistently.
Mikoshiba glanced down at him. “Huh?”
“Mm.” Mayu’s eyes flared.
“Hey…” Mikoshiba pouted a little. “You can at least say my name.”
Mayu sighed begrudgingly. “Mikoto.”
Mikoshiba had to admit that it still made his heart flutter a little to hear Mayu address him so plainly, even though that particular habit had started long before the six weeks they’d been dating. Plus, he’d called Mayu ‘Mayu’ since--well, always. It was just practical; he already had a Nozaki.
“Do you want to see?” He offered the magazine--it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d held reading material up for a prone and inert Mayu--but Mayu shook his head.
“Hungry.”
“Oh.” Mikoshiba frowned. They’d eaten lunch together after the match, but Mayu had just picked listlessly at his food, leaving half of it on the plate. “I don’t know if I have any food here,” he said, mentally surveying the contents of his fridge. It was probably stuffed full of Sakura’s groceries, actually, but he was on thin enough ice already after Sakura had walked in on them making out enthusiastically on the couch the previous week.
“You know I’m happy for you, but you have a bedroom here, Mikorin!” she’d yelled at him later, blushing furiously.
So even though Mayu was near-vegetative today, Mikoshiba was dutifully holed up in his room, and stealing Sakura’s food was probably out of the question.
“I could go out and get you something,” he offered.
Mayu made a vaguely negative noise. “Snack?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Mikoshiba put down the magazine and went to rummage through his desk drawer. “Let’s see, I have cheese curls… potato chips… gummy candy, or pocky.”
“Hmm,” Mayu said. “Pocky.”
“It’s coconut-chocolate, is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
Mikoshiba grabbed the box and tore it open as he returned to his spot on the bed. Anticipating the inevitable request, he opened the inside packet, too, and pulled out a single stick. “Here you go.”
Mayu held his gaze, blinked, and didn’t move an inch.
Mikoshiba had a nervous premonition. “What?” he ventured.
“I’m tired,” Mayu said. “Will you?” He eyed the chocolate-coated snack, then looked back at Mikoshiba and parted his lips. It would have sounded like flirtation coming from anyone else, but Mayu’s tone was flat as ever, straightforward.
But still.
“M-Mayu…” Mikoshiba withdrew his hand, feeling himself blush. “Come on, that’s too much.”
Mayu frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing!”
“No, it’s not,” Mayu said, and gave him a blank look.
Mikoshiba made an unhappy noise, but his discomfort receded a little when he met Mayu’s eyes. Mayu’s dispassionate stare put some people off, even Sakura at first, but it was one of the things Mikoshiba liked about him. It was soothing, sometimes, to know that Mayu had no judgment to offer.
“Mikoto,” Mayu said, and Mikoshiba felt his defenses crumble.
“...Okay, fine.” He inverted the stick of pocky and brought it to Mayu’s lips, feeling awkward as he tried to find a natural angle. Mayu latched on easily with his teeth, though, and it actually wasn’t that bad, especially when Mikoshiba turned his attention back to his magazine so he didn’t have to watch as Mayu nibbled away.
“Mm,” Mayu said, when the first stick was gone.
Mikoshiba only blushed a little when he positioned the second piece in Mayu’s mouth; after that, an article about a new video game caught his interest, and he hardly paid attention as he reached for the next piece.
Whoa, he thought, flipping the page with his free hand, the graphics in this look really good… I wonder if it’s photoshopped for this spread, though… I’m going to have to check out the online reviews and see if--
And then his brain stuttered to a stop. He’d forgotten to let go of the pocky in time, and his fingertips had landed on Mayu’s parted lips, grazing his warm tongue. He inhaled quickly and yanked his hand away. “S-sorry,” he stammered, fumbling to pull out another piece.
He kept his eyes firmly trained on his magazine as Mayu worked on the third piece of pocky, but for some reason, he couldn’t focus on what he was reading; all his attention was suddenly on the indirect tactile feedback he was getting from Mayu’s mouth. His skin was tingling, and he wasn’t sure why.
This time he was hyper-aware of the distance of his fingers from Mayu’s lips, and he was careful to release the pocky as soon as Mayu could control what was left of it. But before he could reach for another piece, Mayu’s head tipped up, and then Mayu’s tongue was extending to touch his fingertips again, licking a soft circle there.
Mikoshiba actually gasped this time, but he didn’t pull away; he was stuck, frozen, staring down at Mayu with wide eyes.
Mayu held his gaze as he swallowed the remainder of the pocky stick and opened his mouth again. His warm breath was like a tractor beam, and Mikoshiba’s hand drifted downwards unconsciously. Then Mayu lifted his head an inch off the bed, and before Mikoshiba knew what was happening, the tip of his middle finger was in Mayu’s mouth, held there by the seal of his lips, and oh, Mayu’s tongue was so soft--
“Mayu,” he gasped. Mayu’s tongue flicked over the pad of his finger, and forming words was no longer an option then--all he could do was close his eyes and let out a soft, choked moan. He didn’t understand; he’d had Mayu’s tongue in his mouth countless times now, and vice versa, but this was… it was different. Mayu sucked his finger in down to the second knuckle and a little further, his mouth wet and warm, and a strange shiver shot up Mikoshiba’s spine. “Oh,” he breathed softly.
Mayu made a soft hmm-ing noise through his nose, and Mikoshiba finally dared to peek down at what he was doing. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t. Mayu was staring straight at him with those impassive dark eyes, calm and a little curious, and his lips, pinker than normal, were wrapped around the tender base of Mikoshiba’s finger. He looked… he looked so…
Mikoshiba jerked his hand away, whimpering at the wet noise it made when it popped free of Mayu’s mouth. “What--what are you doing?” he demanded, far too late. He wiped his finger on the bedspread as if its dampness bothered him, but he wasn’t fooling anyone; he was flushed from head to toe.
Mayu gave him a one-shoulder shrug, still holding his gaze. “You liked it.” It was a simple explanation, not an accusation or a tease. “Does it feel good?”
Mikoshiba’s face heated with new intensity. “...Yeah,” he confessed, reluctantly. “I--don’t know why.”
Mayu shrugged again, dismissive--Who cares?--and parted his lips again, licking them damp in obvious invitation.
“Mayu,” Mikoshiba protested. His heart was pounding at double speed, and he could feel the buzz of arousal building in his stomach just at the sight of Mayu’s open mouth. “I don’t--that’s not…” he started to argue. But he’d changed, a little, since this new part of their relationship had started. He still got embarrassed as easily as ever, but Mayu had shown him that pushing past that embarrassment sometimes led to very good things. He hesitated. Mayu was offering…
He extended his hand again, tentatively, and traced a line around Mayu’s lips with trembling fingers. Mayu made a soft noise of encouragement, and then Mikoshiba was letting his ring finger fall into Mayu’s mouth, his breath catching in unreasonable surprise when Mayu closed his lips around it and sucked it in, smooth and deep.
Inexplicable warmth filled Mikoshiba’s stomach, and a small noise escaped his throat. He slowly raised his finger back up and tried to make himself watch as Mayu pulled it back into the soft heat of his mouth. Mayu had been staring at him this whole time, but now he closed his eyes, and somehow that was the tipping point; Mikoshiba couldn’t look, couldn’t possibly.
“Mayu,” he whimpered. He groaned and curled into himself on the bed, pulling his legs up until his knees were pressing into his forehead. Mayu’s tongue curled around his finger slowly, carefully, like he was tasting it, and Mikoshiba couldn’t do anything but whine against his legs, shocked by how aroused he was getting just from this.
The next time Mikoshiba pulled his hand up, Mayu found his middle finger again with his tongue and sucked both digits back into his mouth, curled and parted slightly to fit. When he licked at the sensitive skin in between them, Mikoshiba shuddered and tipped his head back, fighting a sudden urge to palm himself through his jeans.
His eyes flew open at that thought. It wouldn’t take much to get himself off like this, but he couldn’t--it would be selfish, not to mention mortifying. Mayu probably didn’t even realize how much of an effect he was having.
Mikoshiba swallowed nervously, suddenly wondering what he had gotten himself into. Did Mayu know? Mayu wouldn't mean to get him worked up just as a tease, but when he was this tired, there was no way he would have the energy for--for what they always did.
The first few times after Mikoshiba’s confession, they had just kissed, Mayu greedily exploring Mikoshiba’s mouth with his tongue and Mikoshiba trying not to pass out as he ran his hands through Mayu’s hair. He had sort of craved more, but he’d been overwhelmed and self-conscious enough as it was; and on top of that, there was the part of him that had worried about Mayu being two years his junior, about being a good senpai.
It hadn’t been two weeks, though, before Mayu had grown impatient and set aside his laziness to pin Mikoshiba on his back, hovering over him closely.
“Mayu--wait, stop--!” Mikoshiba had protested.
“What?”
“I’m--I’m really… you know… turned on.”
Mayu had looked at him with the blankest of blank stares. “Why else would I be doing this?”
Mikoshiba had barely been able to breathe. “Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
“Y-yeah. I mean, if--if you--”
Mayu had moved his hips down then, a little, just letting their lower bodies brush through their clothes. “Sure?”
“Mayu,” Mikoshiba had gasped, and arched against him, and it had just been that, kissing and rocking against each other until they had both come in a sweaty mess, even Mayu flushed and shaking by the end.
It was good like that, and uncomplicated, satisfying both Mayu’s need for efficiency and Mikoshiba’s newfound desire to let Mayu take the lead, to just relax and respond and not worry about anything but the perfect warmth of Mayu’s weight pressed down against him.
It was so good that neither of them had suggested trying anything else, yet. Mikoshiba had never felt any need to; he was happy with how things were, even though it meant doing his laundry more often.
But now... Almost against his will, Mikoshiba’s eyes drifted down to see Mayu sucking deeply on his two fingers, his cheeks faintly pink. It hit him with sudden force, the realization of why exactly that image was so suggestive. What it was suggestive of.
"M-Mayu," he whispered. He was going to pull away for good this time, had to stop this. But before he could, Mayu opened his eyes.
He was staring again, but it wasn't his normal stare; it was the intense, lustful look that usually only crept into his eyes when he had Mikoshiba trapped beneath him. Mikoshiba stared back in shock as Mayu reached up and eased Mikoshiba's fingers out of his mouth, then rolled onto his side.
"Mikoto,” he said, his voice low and full of purpose. He put his hand on Mikoshiba's ankle and tugged his leg gently away from his body, trying to pull him out of his tight ball. Mikoshiba resisted for a moment, but it wasn't like he could hide how aroused he was, anyhow; Mayu had to know just from his face.
Still, he caught the way Mayu's eyes widened when he straightened his legs to reveal the obvious straining at the crotch of his jeans.
"I--um, I’m sorry, I can just..." Mikoshiba finally moved his hand down to his fly and sighed in relief at the first hint of pressure.
But then Mayu's hand was covering his, and Mayu was looking up at him. "I can--try," he said quietly. "Using my mouth."
Mikoshiba felt the last of his blood rush straight out of his head. There was no way… Mayu was never going to… "Really?" he whispered.
"If you want."
The only conceivable response formed in Mikoshiba’s mouth automatically. "Yeah," he breathed.
He didn't understand how this was the same person who hadn't even wanted to lift a hand to feed himself a minute ago, but he couldn't question it, couldn't even form thoughts. If he hadn't been so desperately turned on, he would have been self-conscious about what Mayu was doing to him--unfastening his jeans, pushing him gently back onto a pillow, lifting his leg to roll under it in a quick motion. But he could only stare, wide-eyed, as Mayu got him positioned and then reached into the slit of his boxers to ease his cock out, gently.
A wave of dizziness washed over Mikoshiba then, even as his face burned in embarrassment. Mayu was lying on his stomach between Mikoshiba’s legs, propped up on his forearms, his mouth a breath away from the tip of Mikoshiba’s erection. He was definitely blushing now, too, Mikoshiba noticed distantly.
“You--you don’t have to, you know,” Mikoshiba heard himself whisper.
Mayu just looked up at him, steadily. Then he looked back down and parted his lips, and his eyes fell shut as he pressed his tongue under the head and licked a small stripe there.
Mikoshiba gasped and went perfectly still, except for his trembling knees. Then Mayu did it again, a little wetter this time, and longer; his tongue slid up to lap the droplets of pre-cum from the tip, and pure, unfiltered pleasure flared through every inch of Mikoshiba’s body.
“Oh… oh,” he breathed, and then Mayu was sliding his lips fully around the head of his cock, licking in soft, experimental motions. Mikoshiba had to look up at the ceiling as heat engulfed him, rendering him incapable of doing anything but moaning softly, panting and gasping at the exquisite warmth of Mayu’s mouth. Mayu’s lips slid down just a little, a centimeter or two, then back up, and then he was repeating that movement in a tentative rhythm as his tongue worked in soft, swirling patterns, over and over.
It was the most perfect thing Mikoshiba had ever felt, and he never wanted it to end. But that definitely wasn’t going to be an option.
His heart was racing and his cheeks were hot and flushed; he wanted to hold on as long as he could, but it was hardly a minute before he started to feel his climax surging up inside him. “Mayu, I’m--I’m gonna come,” he whispered. Mayu just responded with another velvety lick to the most sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, and Mikoshiba's eyes watered. "Mayu," he gasped.
He knew he would be overwhelmed with embarrassment as soon as he actually saw what Mayu was doing to him, but he couldn't help it. He looked down and was rewarded with about two seconds of Mayu’s flushed cheeks, his pink lips, his bangs falling into his dark, searching eyes--
Mikoshiba’s mouth fell open and his eyelids fluttered, and then it was over; he was clutching at the bedcovers and seizing up in ecstasy, coming into Mayu’s mouth with a soft cry and an involuntary push of his hips. “Oh,” he whimpered a final time, faintly. He sank back into his pillow then, his breathing shaky and his heart pounding in his chest as remnants of pleasure seeped from all his nerves.
His brain was still trying to catch up to what exactly had happened when he became aware of Mayu’s face suddenly looming in very close proximity to his own. Mayu was straddling him, staring down at him, and he looked… dazed. He was breathing hard, too, licking excess saliva from his lips, and his arms were shaking slightly. It was pretty close to how he looked when he was on the cusp of orgasming, only he hadn’t done anything for himself.
“Do you,” Mikoshiba started, a little hoarsely. “Do you… want me to--do that, too? To you?” He hadn’t thought he could turn any redder than he already was, but he was pretty sure it was happening now. He did want to try it, in theory, if only because it had been so good and it was only fair. But at the same time...
He tried not to look too obviously relieved when Mayu answered no with a quick shake of his head.
"Then..." he started, but Mayu was already deftly unzipping his slacks and pushing them down with one hand.
"This," he said, simply.
He was wearing snug, gray boxer-briefs, and it struck Mikoshiba as kind of funny, that he hadn't even known what kind of underwear his own boyfriend wore. Then Mayu began to stroke himself quickly through the soft jersey, and his needy exhale at his own touch drove all other thoughts from Mikoshiba's mind.
"Mikoto," Mayu said, his voice low and urgent. "Can we kiss?"
Mikoshiba nodded numbly and leaned up to press their lips together, moaning when Mayu pushed him back down and licked into his mouth. He tasted a little strange, bitter, and Mikoshiba felt his dick give a final throb when he realized why.
Mayu held himself still as they kissed, aside from his hand, but when Mikoshiba reached up to touch Mayu's waist, he could feel the tension vibrating through his body, the way his muscles twitched when Mikoshiba’s thumb slipped under his t-shirt and rubbed at his skin.
Mikoshiba was used to them reaching their climax more or less together, and it was strange like this, melting into a warm afterglow while Mayu was still on edge. He could appreciate with keener awareness how incredible it was that he got to see Mayu like this, that Mayu wanted to share it with him. He realized suddenly that he wanted to do more than just watch; he wanted to be a part of it.
Cautiously, he touched his knuckles to Mayu’s stomach and skimmed them down to Mayu’s waistline, and then lower, colliding with Mayu’s hurried strokes. He felt Mayu hesitate and shift to give him room, and then he brushed along the firm line of Mayu’s erection with the back of his hand. Despite the fabric between them, there was something shockingly new and intimate about it, especially when Mayu moaned sweetly into his mouth at Mikoshiba’s first touch. Mayu made noises, sometimes, but never like that, never so bare and longing; Mikoshiba’s hesitance vanished at the sound of it. He turned his hand over to use his palm instead, stroking more firmly, and then Mayu was pushing into his hand in urgent thrusts, pulling away from his mouth to whisper Mikoto as his body went rigid and his hips spasmed through his release.
Mikoshiba had just a moment to be stunned by Mayu's rapturous expression before Mayu collapsed on top of him.
“Oof--Mayu!”
“Mikoto,” Mayu murmured back, unapologetic.
This, at least, was familiar. Post-orgasm Mayu was nearly as useless as post-competition Mayu, and with a greater tendency to use Mikoshiba as a full-body pillow. Mikoshiba had never experienced both at once; it was a little worrying.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on top of me, okay?” Mikoshiba said, still a little breathless.
Mayu closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
“You’re heavy, Mayu.”
“Mm.”
After a minute, Mikoshiba sighed and resigned himself to the struggle of sliding out from under Mayu’s weight bit by bit until Mayu was merely wedged against his side, breathing humidly against his neck.
“Hey, Mayu,” Mikoshiba said quietly, once they had settled. When Mayu didn’t respond, he made himself continue, “That was… um. We should do it again. I’ll do it, next time.”
“Mm,” Mayu said, agreeably.
Mikoshiba laid a hand on Mayu’s waist and was about to close his eyes for a nap when he felt a growl reverberate from Mayu’s stomach. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re still hungry.”
Mayu opened his eyes and gave him an imploring look.
Even if Mikoshiba had known where the pocky had disappeared to, he wasn’t sure he could handle watching Mayu eat it again, maybe ever. “I’m too tired to go out now.”
Mayu pursed his lips together in what might have been a pout. “Mikoto-senpai…”
Mikoshiba blushed deeply and frowned as a protective instinct flared up in his chest. “That’s not fair.”
Mayu's eyes shone with the suggestion of a smirk, and Mikoshiba couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’ll call and order a pizza, okay?”
Mayu nodded and closed his eyes, and his lips curved briefly into a small, real smile. That made Mikoshiba’s heart flutter, too, more than anything; it was proof that he wasn’t the only one who was changing. Impulsively, he pressed a kiss to one of Mayu’s eyelids, then blushed at himself as he fumbled to find his phone.
“Mikoto,” Mayu said softly, as soon as Mikoshiba was done placing the order.
“Hm?”
Mayu sighed and curled an arm around his waist. “Sleep,” he murmured.
“You sleep,” Mikoshiba said. “I’ll wake you up when the food’s here.” But he rested his cheek on Mayu’s forehead and closed his eyes, and soon the sound of Mayu’s steady breathing in his ears pulled him swiftly into the warmth of a dream.
= end =