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Ren makes a positively damning sound underneath him, painted nails digging into the back of Goro's neck as he arches his back, drags Goro in closer. Goro's skin is sticky with lip gloss where Ren is dragging his mouth along Goro's collarbone, hints of teeth that send shocks of tingling pleasure-pain up Goro's spine.
Goro's hands are pushed up under Ren's dress, the material hooked on his wrists and shoved up around Ren's hips, Ren's legs curled around Goro's waist; only Goro's hold on him and the door against his back are keeping him from falling.
The lighting in the room is low, but Goro can see the brightness in Ren's eyes when Ren leans in to bite at Goro's mouth, fake eyelashes so long that they're nearly brushing against Goro's face when Ren's eyelids drop half closed. Goro groans, tips his head down to chase Ren's mouth as Ren's fingers push into Goro's hair, knocking the birthday tiara (Ann’s idea, Goro's sure) askew. When Ren bumps it with his hand, he grins against Goro's lips and snatches it off his head, leaning back and placing it on his own mass of dark, thick hair.
Goro feels a laugh bubble up in his throat, because Ren looks a bit ridiculous, glitzy tiara shedding glitter in his hair, shimmering lip gloss smeared across his mouth, sweat making his eyeliner smear, and yet he's still the hottest thing Goro has ever seen.
“You're so fucking hot,” he groans, face flushing at the wrecked sound of his own voice, but Ren laughs, cups Goro's face and kisses along his jaw, pressing a low, pleased noise against Goro’s skin that makes him shudder.
“So are you,” and Goro feels the heat climbing in his gut, feels Ren drag his nails under Goro's shirt along his shoulder blade, and suddenly, Goro is wearing too many clothes.
He presses Ren harder against the wall, feels the way Ren gasp-moans at the added pressure, and steadies him with a hand against Ren's lower back as he begins to pull his own shirt off one handed. Ren, bless him, is a fast learner and slides his fingers underneath the hem of Goro's shirt, tugs it over Goro's head and immediately attaches his mouth to the exposed skin at Goro's shoulders and chest. Goro readjusts Ren's weight, pushes his hands higher underneath Ren's dress and stills when his fingertips happen upon soft silk.
Ren laughs, feeling Goro stop, and pulls back to grin at Goro with dark eyes.
“Silk?” Goro rasps, eyes wide, and when he glances down, his fingers tighten on Ren's slender hips, breath catching in his throat at the sight of dark red satin on smooth, pale skin.
“I don't fuck around,” Ren says with a look in his eyes that nearly makes Goro moan, fingertips digging into Ren's skin so hard there's probably going to be bruises. Ren runs his hands almost reverently over Goro's skin, tracing the lines of his lean muscles, the various bruises and scars that will never quite go away. The touch is soft, and it makes Goro shudder, and suddenly he needs to see Ren.
As if reading his mind, Ren loosens his grip with his legs around Goro, hands circled loosely around the back of Goro's neck like he can't stop touching him, and murmurs, “Put me down.”
The second Ren touches the floor he's kicking off his heels and pulling his dress off over his head in a fluid, practiced motion.
Ren is barely shorter than him, more slender than Goro but not delicate, all sharp cuts of hips and biceps and quads that make Goro's mouth go dry. Right in the middle of it all, packaged with a neat little bow like it's a goddamn present, is a pair of panties, clinging to Ren's skin like they're painted on.
“Fuck,” Goro breathes, and when Ren grins at him, reaching out with steady hands to loop his fingers through Goro's belt loops and pull him close, he teases, “Say please.”
Goro isn't even thinking, curling his fingertips underneath the elastic of Ren's panties — Jesus, panties — when he swears, “Shit, Ren, please —” and Ren slides to his knees.
It's an image burned forever into Goro's mind, Ren looking up at him with bright eyes and kiss swollen lips while clever fingers undo the fastenings on Goro's jeans, tugging them down his long legs and taking his Featherman boxer briefs with them, which Ren doesn't even raise an eyebrow at.
It's embarrassing how turned on Goro is, and he glances away from Ren, who apparently doesn't take too kindly to that and nips at the inside of Goro's thigh, sucking a mark into the skin immediately after. Goro shoots his gaze to Ren, who smiles at him innocently, and then curls his hands on Goro's hips and leans in to curl his tongue around him, all wet and spit slick and fucking hot.
Goro makes the most embarrassing noise and slides his fingers into Ren's hair, tightening in the thick curls when Ren gets his hands into the mix, strong hands with long fingers and calluses on the palms that have Goro shaking, his nerves on fucking fire.
Time seems to fade away, and Goro can't say how long Ren goes down on him — way down, fuck, and Ren swallows and Goro nearly shouts, thighs trembling with the strength of not thrusting up into Ren's mouth. Ren twists his head and Goro trails his fingers over the curve of Ren's cheek where he can feel himself through the thin skin, and he feels the telltale tightening low in his gut, embarrassingly quick.
“Ren, I’m-” is all the warning he's able to choke out before Ren has his nose pressed into Goro’s skin and swallows, and then release is spiking through him, white hot and bright like a goddamn supernova, and Goro bites the inside of his lip so hard he nearly bleeds.
When he comes back to himself, Ren is kissing him gently, hands combing through his hair, and Goro has enough presence of mind to make an aborted motion towards Ren, stopped by Ren's soft hand curling around his wrist.
“You don't need to,” Ren murmurs, and Goro makes a questioning noise, feeling incredibly bad for not even thinking to take care of Ren. It may be his birthday, but he's not a complete dick.
“I don't…” Ren starts, fidgeting in the first show of discomfort Goro's seen on him, and it makes something in Goro's chest tighten unpleasantly at being the one to cause that. “I don't need it.”
It doesn't make sense to Goro, but he lets it drop, cups Ren's cheek and whispers a soft, “okay,” into Ren's mouth, feeling Ren relax against him, low noise of pleasure in his throat that feels like a purr as he kisses Goro.
When they finally pull apart after a few minutes of easy, lazy kissing, muted pleasure still thrumming across Goro's skin where Ren touches him, Ren reluctantly reaches down and pulls his dress off the floor. Goro's heart jumps in his throat, fear making him stutter “w-wait,” because he can't just let Ren go. Maybe other people can have a one night stand, sleep with someone and then never see them again, but Goro's never been that kind of person.
Ren looks at him curiously and Goro… Goro takes in the unexpected warmth of Ren's eyes, the way he tips his head and his hair falls across his forehead, the smeared slick across his mouth, and Goro reaches out, rubs his thumb over the shininess on Ren's skin.
“May I…” Goro starts, sighs and shakes his head at himself, “I’m not very good at this,” he admits with a self deprecating half smile, and then continues, “I understand this isn't the standard in these situations, but I’d like to see you again, if you’re amenable. Perhaps for coffee?”
Ren just stares at him for a second, and Goro knows he's made a horrible mistake, feels himself flush with a stuttered, “Never mind, forget —” before he finds his breath stolen with a deep kiss.
“I could be amenable,” Ren teases with a soft grin when he pulls back, slipping back just enough to tug his dress back on over his head; it's slightly crooked and ripped at the hem, and Goro helps Ren straighten it, smiles when their fingers brush. “I’m keeping your tiara, by the way.”
Goro laughs softly, leans in for the softest kiss of the night, presses their foreheads together and murmurs, “It looks good on you.”
Ren helps Goro get dressed, fingertips lingering on warm skin and short kisses shared between the reintroduction of clothes to skin. When they're finished, Goro has half a second of panic about what to do next when it’s interrupted by Ren holding his hand out and wiggling his fingers. “Give me your phone.”
Goro hides the slight tremble of his hands as he digs his phone out of his pocket and passes it to Ren, watching as Ren takes the cutest selfie Goro's ever seen and types in his number before handing it back, a knowing glimmer in his eye.
“Don't forget to text me,” he teases, slipping back into his heels and walking with muted clicks on the carpet towards the door, and then stops, thinking. In a fluid motion, he steps out of his panties and tucks them into Goro's back pocket, grinning when Goro flushes.
“So you don't forget,” he explains, readjusting his — Goro's — tiara on his head and then slipping out of the door, leaving Goro standing in the middle of the room with silk panties in his pocket and a disbelieving look on his face.
What a birthday.