kinkfest | Playing Games [Loveless, Natsuo/Youji, M]

Title: Playing Games
Author:

sumthinlikhuman
Pairing: Natsuo/Youji
Rating: M
Warnings: one-sided first time (Youji’s), pseudo-exhibitionism
Prompt: Loveless, Natsuo/Youji: public places - “I’m not drunk, I want to go home, officer”
Summary: The joke and the game remain the same
Notes: Written primarily under the influence of Sufjan Stevens’ music. Which, if you’re familiar with it, might explain a little bit about it, but probably not.

AND, ONCE AGAIN, I HAVE NO CONCEPT OF TIME. SORRY GUUUUUYS!!!!!

The beer was Soubi’s—or, technically, Kyo-kun’s. The idea was entirely Youji’s own, though the picnic portion of it had been supplemented by Natsuo’s own fast thinking when the rain clouds had begun to crawl across the landscape.

By then, they’d each had two beers each. Natsuo could admit to the slightest fuzzy feeling between his ears, and a distinct numbness to his fingers that was rather unsettling. Youji would admit to nothing, but Natsuo didn’t believe his fingers were numb—though, perhaps if they were, that would explain Youji letting them crawl all over Natsuo’s skin: his neck, his chin, just under the hem of the shirt he’d manage to talk Ritsuka out of to sit low on his belly.

Their picnic blanket did nothing to keep the rain off them, but kept them slightly warm as their breath puffed between them. Youji’s fingers were nimble and knowing, sliding over Natsuo’s skin in nonsense little patterns that still managed to get Natsuo steadily more and more naked—first the stolen shirt, than the undershirt beneath it; his boots, his jeans, and then, with teeth and fingertips, his underwear.

“Not fair,” Natsuo pouted, pulling at the buttons on Youji’s jacket. Youji had more layers. Youji was still dressed. The beers didn’t make his fingers shake, even if they were numb-tingling. As he worked the buttons one by one, Youji fisted his cock.

“I miss this,” Youji whispered.

“What? My dick? That’s a silly thing to miss; you see it every day.” Finally, the jacket came off Youji’s long arms. As Natsuo pulled off Youji’s shirt, Youji fondled his balls. It made Natsuo squirm against the grass.

“I miss touching you,” Youji whispered. Natsuo ran his fingers over Youji’s ears after he’d put his shirt down—first smooth skin, and then the fuzzy fur on what proved they’d never gotten beyond the fondling Youji was doing. Youji looked at him with lust-blown eyes. “Let’s loose it, Natsuo.”

But Natsuo’s were gone. Youji touched where they should have been, and Natsuo stopped him, tumbling him over in the grass. The picnic blanket shifted, and a bit of the rain hit Natsuo’s foot. He breathed Youji’s air, inhaled his clean boy scent and hummed softly as he kissed him.

“Please, Natsuo,” Youji whimpered as Natsuo undid his belt and lowered his pants and briefs with urgent hands. “I don’t like it, Natsuo, not sharing it.”

“It isn’t any different,” Natsuo told him. Except it was. Except people looked at him funny because he wasn’t very old and he didn’t have his Ears or Tail anymore, and people looked at him like only Youji was supposed to look at him. He didn’t want people looking at Youji like that.

“Please,” Youji begged, and arched so their hips touched, so their cocks bumped and brushed and Natsuo remembered being just a little bit younger and how special and foreign it was to touch like that. Even though it was normal now it still made him hold down Youji’s shoulders and rut against him for a moment.

When it seemed like that was all he was going to get, Youji pinched Natsuo all over, saying, “No, no, put it inside me. Take it from me, Natsuo. Do it, I want you to. It hurts down there when you don’t. I want you inside of me, Natsuo-chan.”

“Say it,” Natsuo whispered against Youji’s skin, and wished he’d had a little more to drink to justify what he was asking. “Say it again. Say it dirtier. Say it like how Soubi does.”

“Fuck me,” Youji hissed.

It didn’t seem like anything at all to just sink into Youji like how it had been Natsuo’s first time. Youji’s nails scrabbled over his shoulders and chest and his eyes squeezed shut, but he didn’t make a sound for a very long time. Until Natsuo was seated inside him and wasn’t moving at all.

“Are they gone?” Youji whispered then. Natsuo touched where Youji’s Ears touched his hair. His cock felt wet. He frowned a little and looked down between Youji’s legs. “Are they gone?”

“Not yet,” Natsuo whispered back. “It takes a little while.”

“Oh,” Youji said, opening his eyes and staring at Natsuo’s chest and digging his nails in until blood beaded to the surface. Natsuo’s cock twitched inside Youji, and Youji groaned. “Okay. Do it? Fuck me.”

The rain fell on the blanket, seeping through, and Youji made quiet little noises whenever Natsuo pulled out, like he couldn’t stand the idea of Natsuo not sinking his dick back into him. But every time Natsuo did, and every time Youji would sigh and his eyes lashes would flutter and Natsuo would think, This isn’t so bad as it was that first time. But maybe that had more to do with it being his dick in Youji’s body, his hands touching Youji’s skin, their moment, their togetherness as they laced their fingers together in the dark under the blanket and felt like they never had, together, before.

Natsuo watched the slow realization washing over Youji as he sped his hips against Youji’s, as Youji’s face got all screwed up and priceless and wanton. He gripped Youji’s hands as hard as he dared and shut his eyes tight as he felt the tight coiling in his belly and knew: this was it. This was the end of all the joking around about Ears and Tails. This was when they stopped being children.

Youji yelped when he came, his cock jumping against his belly a little, spattering come on his lower stomach and at his belly button. Natsuo groaned, moving frantically inside him. The rain touched his toes where they’d escaped from under the blanket. The grass rustled. The earth groaned under them.

The world span, uprooted, overturned, sank and fell and shattered, and Natsuo wondered, as he felt Youji’s arms around him, if they were in a Battle.

When he opened his eyes, Youji was touching his hair, running his fingers through, smiling slightly.

“Youji-chan?”

“Lover,” Youji whispered.

“What?”

Youji laughed, leaning over and kissing Natsuo. “Call me lover.”

There was a dry sort of cough, and the boys looked up slowly to see the very uncomfortable looking police officer standing just off to the side, on the other side of the shrubbery that had hidden them during their act. He was staring at the sky, which was already starting to clear. Natsuo grinned at him.

“You boys are in quite a bit of trouble if you don’t come along quickly now,” the police officer muttered, not at all decisively. Youji matched Natsuo’s grin.

“Take us home then, officer.” And the joke and the game was still the same one it had always been.