[Fanfic] The Moon and Its Eclipse [NSFW]
Jul. 22nd, 2018 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
writtentofreedomSummary: Yuri felt Hijiri needs to relax a bit and enlists Maki’s assistance. It’d be helpful if he could explain to Maki what’s happening first, though.
Tags: Algeki, Tatsumi Maki/Tsukishima Hijiri, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Body Worship, Praise Kink, BDSM, Bondage
Word count: 3k
Unbeta'd
Finish date: 3/24/18
Can also be read on AO3 here!
---
Maki didn’t think it too odd when Yuri calls for him, taking him by the hand and walking him through the hallways of the Algeki dorms. They stop in front of Hijiri’s room, and, confused, he looks up. “What did you need me here for?” If this is another attempt at having the two of them get along, he doubts it’ll work any better than the last try.
Yuri nods for him to enter, and then he’s standing in Hijiri’s room in the dark, the door clicking shut behind him. He’s not locked in; he can open the door and leave, searching down the older boy to ask what the hell all this was, but also he knows Yuri wouldn’t be doing something like this without a reason. He flicks the lights on.
Hijiri lays on the bed, wincing at the sudden light pouring into the room, bound wrists twitching against red ropes. It gives Maki a moment to be surprised. Was this also Yuri’s doing?
“Are you going to just stand there?” Hijiri calls out to him after regaining sight, face just as impassively mocking as usual despite being naked and tied up in his own bed.
“Oh, uh,” Maki says, because what do you do in situations like these? He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and reaches for the ropes holding Hijiri’s arms above his head, getting surprised yet again when Hijiri’s voice stops him.
“Just leave it,” Hijiri orders. Okay. Maki sits back and, not knowing what else to do, finds his eyes drawn back to bright red on pale skin.
Hijiri’s wrists are tied together, a length of rope connecting them to the headboard. His ankles are tied stretching towards the edges of the footboard, legs spread open. Extra ropes cross his torso and limbs in diamonds.
“Aren’t these overkill?” he asks, tugging at one of the diamonds.
“What?” Hijiri looks annoyed, but Maki still has no idea what the guy wants from him, so he just plows on with his question.
“These aren’t necessary to hold you down, right?”
“It’s not about holding me down,” Hijiri snaps. He looks like he wants to continue, mouth opening and closing a couple times before he twists his head so he’s facing away. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what bondage is, I swear to God. You can’t be that stupid.”
Maki scoffs. “I know what it is. Sorry for not getting it, though.”
A storm of emotions pass through Hijiri’s face, too fast for Maki to figure any of them out before he returns to his usual scowl. “It’s not your thing, alright, whatever. Untie me and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he huffs. He looks against at the ropes twisting up and down Hijiri’s arms. “I just never thought of it.”
They’re quiet for a while, Hijiri still refusing to face Maki and Maki staring at this boy on the bed covered in rope. He’d always known the other to be good-looking; the guy’s a model, so it’s his job to be easy on the eyes. There’s definitely something about him right now though, knots crossing in little patterns across his skin. He seems more vulnerable like this, arms against his ears instead of defensively held against his chest. His head, normally raised and challenging, is now the only thing he can move.
Hijiri turns, raises an eyebrow, and the challenge is still in his face. Unfortunately, Maki has no idea what he’s supposed to do in these scenarios. Deciding to just go with his gut, he presses a kiss to the corner of Hijiri’s lips. It gets a noise as a response, so he does it again to the other corner, then right in the center, staring as Hijiri’s eyes flutter close.
“Was that okay?” He watches as Hijiri tries to regain composure, cheeks red, scowl slightly softened. It looks kind of nice with the ropes, kind of cute.
“Yea, whatever,” Hijiri finally spits out.
“Should I keep doing that?” he asks, except that seems to be the wrong move.
“You don’t have to do anything.” The frown returns.
“I want to.” Maki thinks he’s also frowning, trying to figure out what Hijiri wants from him. “I don’t know what kind of things you like, but I want to make you feel good.”
Hijiri blinks at him, bewilderment painted plainly across his face for once. “Why?”
“You looked like you were enjoying it just now. It was nice. You don’t usually look like you’re enjoying yourself. And looking at it, you’re pretty like this.” His own cheeks heat up a little at the admission, although it can’t compare with Hijiri’s blush, almost as bright as the ropes.
Hijiri doesn’t say anything, tugs at the ropes some more as he twists his face away again. Maki notices his dick now, somewhat standing, and he reaches over to curve a hand around it, jumping at the intensity of Hijiri’s inhale.
“D-don’t do that.” His tone’s as annoyingly commanding as ever, even when slightly breathless.
“Why not?”
“B-because!” His voice cracks, and he pauses before continuing again, back to being a know-it-all like usual. “Because you don’t just do that out of the blue!”
“Then tell me what you want me to do!” Maki growls. He can’t help it. Isn’t sex supposed to be relaxing or whatever? This is just frustrating.
“Why do you want to do this so badly?” Hijiri asks in lieu of an answer. “Don’t tell me I ended up seducing you into bed looking like this.”
“I don’t know,” Maki says, pondering on that, “You could probably seduce anyone you want if you stopped insulting everyone you see.” Hijiri makes a strange noise, and Maki wonders if he said something he wasn’t supposed to again.
“Come again?” Hijiri chokes out.
“I’m just saying, you can get anyone you want in bed just with your looks. You’re really good-looking after all.” They’re both quiet for a moment as they think on what Maki said.
“Just my looks?”
“Huh?”
“Is it really only my looks that are good?” It’s certainly a question to be asked, considering how much time Hijiri spends insulting everyone. But then also, Maki remembers seeing Hijiri in the training rooms after everyone left, remembers watching as Hijiri goes through the moves again, mouthing the words to himself as he steps. He remembers seeing the way Hijiri looked at the audience and at his fellow Sargas members, the softest expression he had ever seen Hijiri make, and he recalls wondering what it’d be like at the end of that gaze.
“Forget it,” Hijiri tries again, so Maki kisses him.
“No,” he whispers, close enough to Hijiri’s face he can see how big Hijiri’s eyes are, wide and shifting this way and that. “There’s definitely more to you than just your looks.”
“What, then?” There’s something odd in Hijiri’s voice, although Maki doesn’t bother trying to decipher that either.
“You’re determined and hard-working,” Maki starts, fingers running idly along the ropes on Hijiri’s stomach, which is how he notices Hijiri’s dick twitching, the hitch in Hijiri’s breathing. “...Is that what you like? Me saying nice things about you?”
“What the hell kind of narcissist do you think I am,” Hijiri says. The muscles in his arms and legs flex as he tugs with renewed force, squirming in the center of the bed.
“If you want me to say nice things, I can do that.” Some of the puzzle pieces are aligning, and Maki thinks he knows what Hijiri wants now. He runs his fingers along the bindings along Hijiri’s elbows. “I like how dedicated you are to your work.” His thumb catches against a knot on the inside of his arm. He rubs there, continues talking. “I heard you encouraging Ritsu the other day. You were cool, talking like that.”
Hijiri is shaking, squirming still. His dick is hard now, and Maki wonders if he should try touching it again. He seems to be doing well like this, though, so he continues, fingers kneading at the skin of Hijiri’s calves. “In your interviews, you’re always so calm. You seem to know what you want to say. I admire that.” He’s definitely feeling the embarrassment, but it’s fine. When he looks up, Hijiri’s eyes are shut, lips parted for breath. He almost looks like he’s angry with how his brows are furrowed, cheeks bright with color.
He’s starting to run out of things to say, so he kisses him again, amazed at how pliant Hijiri’s mouth is now, sucking lightly on Maki’s tongue and allowing Maki to push however he wants. He’s making little noises against Maki’s mouth, and Maki wants to hear them, so he starts kissing away from Hijiri’s mouth. Against the corner of his lips, and then his nose, his cheek, his jaw. He’s running on instinct now, not quite sure what to do, but it seems to be working, Hijiri’s face flushed and helpless to everything Maki does.
“You’re really pretty,” he whispers as he kisses down Hijiri’s throat. He’s not even sure if Hijiri understands but he continues, hands rubbing circles up and down Hijiri’s bound arms. “So pretty. You look beautiful like this.”
A sob pours from Hijiri’s throat, head tilting back, and Maki moves back down to look Hijiri in the face, holding Hijiri’s cheeks so he can’t turn away. “Did I do something wrong?”
It takes Hijiri a moment to notice, eyes blinking open and focusing on Maki. He flinches but stays in place thanks to Maki’s hands. “Wh-?”
“Are you okay?”
Hijiri nods. “Are you done?”
“If you want me to keep going, I will.” Maki waits for Hijiri to nod before he moves back up and kisses the pale skin of Hijiri’s arm. His thoughts pour straight out his mouth as he works his way up to Hijiri’s fingers at the headboard.
He’s gotten down to Hijiri’s thighs, whispering bits of praise and kissing each bit of bare skin as he moves, when the door clicks open again. Yuri walks in, a tray in hand, door shutting behind him. Maki sits up.
“Yuri, what is this?” he asks, because even if he kind of understands what Hijiri wants, he’s still not sure how Yuri plays into it.
“You might need to readjust some of those knots so he can sit up, but I’d like for you to feed him,” Yuri explains, placing the tray on the bedside drawers. “If you need help redoing any of it, I can help.”
“Uh,” says Maki, who now has even more questions.
“He seemed stressed lately, so I thought you could help him relieve some of it.” Yuri says, as he starts untying Hijiri’s legs, making little shushing sounds and rubbing at the ankles when Hijiri makes a noise. “It’s alright, I just want you to eat something. I’ll leave in a moment and then Maki can feed you.”
“I don’t need him to feed me.” Hijiri’s voice wobbles a little. He doesn’t struggle when Yuri undoes the ropes on his arms next. With Maki’s help, the two of them shift Hijiri up against the headboard, and Yuri replaces the rope so Hijiri’s arms are secure behind his back.
“I know you don’t, but let Maki do this, alright?” Yuri pats Hijiri’s cheek. “Is that alright?” He chuckles when Hijiri nods, thumb rubbing at Hijiri’s cheekbone before pulling away. “Good boy. Take care of him, Maki.” Maki only has time to grunt before Yuri exits, leaving the two of them alone again.
“You heard him,” Hijiri huffs, shifting a little. Maki takes a seat next to him, eyeing the plate of omurice.
“He really cares about you, huh.” Maki scoops a spoonful up and blows gently.
“Too much really.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s,” Hijiri sounds frustrated, so Maki reaches over to rub his knee. “I’m kind of glad he meddles, I guess, since I wouldn’t be putting myself in this situation if it wasn’t for him.” He accepts the spoonful, brow furrowing as he chews. “Fucking Yuri. This has way too many carbs.”
“You’re going to have to explain that to me.” Maki says as he prepares another bite.
“What, my diet?”
“Why is Yuri tying you up?”
Hijiri seems to consider his answer as he chews, but then swallows and says, “Again, it’s called bondage, look it up.”
“I know what it is,” Maki grumbles, “I just want to know. Why Yuri, why me?” Hijiri stays quiet, and it suddenly hits Maki that what he’s doing is actually really intimate. He is sitting on his bed, feeding a naked, tied up Hijiri. This actually might be a little intrusive. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“No,” Hijiri says. His expression shifts between a couple complicated emotions before he leans his head back. “Ugh.” Maki feeds him another bite. “It’s really embarrassing, and I don’t want to have to say it, but you kind of do deserve an answer,” he manages. Please, give me time.
Maki thinks he gets it. “Then, what is it about bondage that you like? ...is that still too personal?”
“A little bit.” He lets Maki feed him a few more spoons before turning his head away. “Ugh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t eat anymore.”
“There’s still half of it left!”
“It’s all carbs though.”
Maki thinks for a moment. “A few more bites, at least. I’ll help finish the rest of it.”
“No thanks.”
“A few more bites, or I’ll call Yuri back in.” Hijiri’s glare and scowl return, but he accepts the next spoonful.
Maki’s trying to quickly finish the rest of the omurice when Hijiri finally answers in a hushed voice. “I’m not as confident as you think I am. Yuri figured it out, figured out how to help me with that.”
“Then, how do I fit into that?”
Hijiri’s blush darkened. “Yuri also figured out that I, uh. Kind of like you.”
“And so he thought leaving you tied up for me was a good idea?”
“We didn’t think you’d be this dense. You hang around Izumo after all.”
“Izumo’s a bit more obvious about his feelings than you are. I had no idea you needed something like this.”
“I don’t need it,” Hijiri hisses.
“Wanted?”
Hijiri huffs frustratedly. “‘Like’ is fine. I like this kind of stuff. It makes me feel better. That’s all.” Now that he knows what to look more, Maki’s starting to notice the defensive edge in Hijiri’s harshly clipped statements.
He shrugs. “Alright.” Putting the plate away, he turns back to Hijiri. “Is there anything else you want me to do? Should I be taking my clothes off too?” A package of wet wipes sits on the tray as well, and he wipes his mouth off with one before using another one on Hijiri’s.
“Whatever you want. My schedule’s clear tomorrow and light for the next couple days after. If you want, you can fuck me.”
“I think I’d rather keep doing this.”
“A warning, though. I,” Hijiri hesitates, “I’m going to probably start trying to tell you to stop. Don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yea. Don’t stop, no matter what I do.” Maki’s unease must have been showing, because he amends, “I’ll say ‘red light’ if I actually need you to stop. Okay?”
“Red light?”
“It’s Yuri’s thing. He likes the stoplight system, has me using it usually.”
Well, if it’s Yuri-approved. “Okay then. Anything else?”
Maki’s climbing on him again when he says, quietly, “My arms and stomach are pretty sensitive.”
“Ah.” That explains some things. Although, with the way Hijiri is now positioned… Well, if Hijiri’s putting this much effort in it, he should also try his best.
He regrets that thought a moment later when he’s halfway done sloppily retying Hijiri’s wrists, Hijiri watching him with a dull look and commenting, “You suck at this.”
“I’m trying my best,” Maki snaps back. He gets a decent knot to hold Hijiri’s wrists in place and goes to attempt tying his ankles, noting to himself to later ask Yuri for lessons. As he fiddles, the back of his hand brushes against the bottom of Hijiri’s foot, and he hears a sharp gasp. Curious, he looks up and moves his hand back, watching as Hijiri chokes back another noise, face scrunching up. Huh.
“You’d better not,” Hijiri warns, which means he absolutely should. He grabs the ankle and wiggles his fingers against the arch, grinning when Hijiri splutters and jerks, muscles tight as he pulls this way and that.
He keeps tickling until Hijiri’s head is knocked back as he gasps, body sweaty and heaving, straining against the ropes. Right now might be the most attractive he’s ever seen Hijiri, and he reaches up to brush hair from Hijiri’s forehead and kiss his flushed cheeks.
“I hate you so much right now,” Hijiri gets out between breaths. He leans into Maki’s hand, eyes fluttering shut.
“Sure,” Maki says, pecking him on the lips. “God, you’re beautiful. Do you have any idea how good you look right now?”
Hijiri whines, head twisting away, and Maki kisses along his throat instead. Sex had never seemed all that interesting, but this, Maki thinks, is something he can definitely get behind.
Maki’s pressing kisses down the center of Hijiri’s stomach when he hears a sob, another joining it when he continues kissing and rubbing along Hijiri’s sides. Hijiri’s face is all scrunched up again, and Maki reaches over to hold it. “Beautiful,” he says, and then there’s tears in the corner of Hijuri’s eyes and he’s turning this way and that, trying to push away Maki’s hands.
“Stop,” he murmurs, “Stop that.”
“Don’t think I can,” he whispers back. His fingers caress Hijiri’s cheeks. “Love you too much for that.”
“Please.” Hijiri sobs again, and Maki feels the first of the tears falling against his fingers.
“Stoplight?” he asks, because he remembers what Hijiri said, but he’s still worried.
It takes Hijiri a moment to answer, tears collecting at his cheeks. “Green. Please.”
“Alright,” Maki swallows before leaning in to kiss Hijiri’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Hijiri sniffles, “Fucking sap.”
“Good to know you can still insult me like this.” Maki chuckles. His own chest feels so warm and light at Hijiri’s admission, and he covers Hijiri’s stomach with kisses and drinks in every resulting noise, breathing in Hijiri’s scent. “Can I touch you yet?”
“You are touching me, stupid.” Hijiri gives a watery chuckle.
“No, I meant your dick.” He hears Hijiri spluttering.
“How can you just say it- Ugh, just, do whatever you want.”
“Whatever?”
“Yes,” Hijiri huffs through his teeth, “anything you want. Go ahead. Don’t make me keep saying this.” He sniffs, then coughs. “God, I’m disgusting right now. Don’t look at my face.”
“What happened to anything I want? What if that’s what I want to do?” Maki makes a point of looking up, just in time for Hijiri to turn his face away.
“Gross. Don’t. My face is all covered in snot. Don’t look.” As if to make a point, he sniffs again.
Maki feels himself smiling a little as he crawls up, pulling out the wet wipes again. He’s gentle as he dabs at Hijiri’s cheeks, wiping at Hijiri’s nose and chin. “It’s admittedly endearing,” he informs the other, kissing him once he’s done.
“Ugh.” Hijiri responds to the kiss though, eyes fluttering shut as he leans up and in.
Maki lingers longer than he means to, wanting to stay with the soft warmth of Hijiri’s mouth, the feeling of Hijiri squirming below him, the way Hijiri’s noises seem to cling to his throat. He’s almost overloading in sensation when Hijiri bites his tongue hard and forces him off. Hijiri’s cheeks are bright red, his eyes dazed as he looks up at Maki, chest rising and falling with his breaths. Maki’s own chest swells. Here he is, on Hijiri’s bed, making Hijiri look like this, because Hijiri likes him. Wow.
“If I could, I’d like to just keep you here like this,” he murmurs.
“Ugh, sap. Besides, you know we can’t do that, right?”
“Yea. If only we could. Anything I want, right?” His smile widens at Hijiri’s own small one.
“Yea.”
Reaching down, he takes Hijiri’s dick in his hand, giving it a stroke while watching Hijiri’s face, repeating and staring as Hijiri moans, quiet and low.
“Close,” Hijiri whispers, warm breath brushing against Maki’s nose. Maki nods.
They’re kissing again when Hijiri comes, Maki’s mouth grabbing at his noises as he shudders. When they part, Hijiri has an air of complacency, quietly laughing as he watches Maki try to wipe the cum on his hands onto his already-stained pants.
“Just take them off. You can borrow mine and get those clean in the morning,” he calls sleepily. Disgruntled, Maki scrunches his nose at the splotches on his jeans and peels them off, dropping them over the side of the bed. It’s then that he remembers he’s also hard. Hijiri also seems to realize at the same time, blinking hard at the sleep in his eyes. “Wait, untie me so I can-”
“It’s fine,” Maki tells him. He doesn’t usually see the need to touch himself, but right now, he finds himself tugging off his boxers, dick in his hand as he sits on the edge of the bed and strokes, keeping his eyes on Hijiri’s. When he finishes, he wipes his own cum on his pants as well, then looks back up.
“So, uh. Am I supposed to use the wet wipes to clean you off? Can I give you a bath?” Hijiri looks like he’s about to fall asleep, so Maki’s pretty sure the answer’s No, but he asks anyways.
“In here? Go ahead.” What? Hijiri yawns. “Like, get a towel and a tub of water or whatever. Don’t carry me naked in the hall. Do I really have to tell you that?”
“You’d think your attitude would improve after getting off.”
“Too bad. Untie me already.” His tone is still terrible, but as Maki reaches over to undo the knots on the headboard, he looks down again at Hijiri’s face, soft and satisfied, and finds himself matching the goofy, lopsided smile.
---
I still find this absolutely embarrassing in how ridiculously self-indulgent this is, but I'm reposting it here because it got a surprising amount of views on AO3, so I guess people actually like my self-indulgence? Or something haha. Title's from Coldplay's Something Just Like This, because I couldn't think of anything better to use.
Tags: Algeki, Tatsumi Maki/Tsukishima Hijiri, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Body Worship, Praise Kink, BDSM, Bondage
Word count: 3k
Unbeta'd
Finish date: 3/24/18
Can also be read on AO3 here!
---
Maki didn’t think it too odd when Yuri calls for him, taking him by the hand and walking him through the hallways of the Algeki dorms. They stop in front of Hijiri’s room, and, confused, he looks up. “What did you need me here for?” If this is another attempt at having the two of them get along, he doubts it’ll work any better than the last try.
Yuri nods for him to enter, and then he’s standing in Hijiri’s room in the dark, the door clicking shut behind him. He’s not locked in; he can open the door and leave, searching down the older boy to ask what the hell all this was, but also he knows Yuri wouldn’t be doing something like this without a reason. He flicks the lights on.
Hijiri lays on the bed, wincing at the sudden light pouring into the room, bound wrists twitching against red ropes. It gives Maki a moment to be surprised. Was this also Yuri’s doing?
“Are you going to just stand there?” Hijiri calls out to him after regaining sight, face just as impassively mocking as usual despite being naked and tied up in his own bed.
“Oh, uh,” Maki says, because what do you do in situations like these? He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and reaches for the ropes holding Hijiri’s arms above his head, getting surprised yet again when Hijiri’s voice stops him.
“Just leave it,” Hijiri orders. Okay. Maki sits back and, not knowing what else to do, finds his eyes drawn back to bright red on pale skin.
Hijiri’s wrists are tied together, a length of rope connecting them to the headboard. His ankles are tied stretching towards the edges of the footboard, legs spread open. Extra ropes cross his torso and limbs in diamonds.
“Aren’t these overkill?” he asks, tugging at one of the diamonds.
“What?” Hijiri looks annoyed, but Maki still has no idea what the guy wants from him, so he just plows on with his question.
“These aren’t necessary to hold you down, right?”
“It’s not about holding me down,” Hijiri snaps. He looks like he wants to continue, mouth opening and closing a couple times before he twists his head so he’s facing away. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what bondage is, I swear to God. You can’t be that stupid.”
Maki scoffs. “I know what it is. Sorry for not getting it, though.”
A storm of emotions pass through Hijiri’s face, too fast for Maki to figure any of them out before he returns to his usual scowl. “It’s not your thing, alright, whatever. Untie me and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he huffs. He looks against at the ropes twisting up and down Hijiri’s arms. “I just never thought of it.”
They’re quiet for a while, Hijiri still refusing to face Maki and Maki staring at this boy on the bed covered in rope. He’d always known the other to be good-looking; the guy’s a model, so it’s his job to be easy on the eyes. There’s definitely something about him right now though, knots crossing in little patterns across his skin. He seems more vulnerable like this, arms against his ears instead of defensively held against his chest. His head, normally raised and challenging, is now the only thing he can move.
Hijiri turns, raises an eyebrow, and the challenge is still in his face. Unfortunately, Maki has no idea what he’s supposed to do in these scenarios. Deciding to just go with his gut, he presses a kiss to the corner of Hijiri’s lips. It gets a noise as a response, so he does it again to the other corner, then right in the center, staring as Hijiri’s eyes flutter close.
“Was that okay?” He watches as Hijiri tries to regain composure, cheeks red, scowl slightly softened. It looks kind of nice with the ropes, kind of cute.
“Yea, whatever,” Hijiri finally spits out.
“Should I keep doing that?” he asks, except that seems to be the wrong move.
“You don’t have to do anything.” The frown returns.
“I want to.” Maki thinks he’s also frowning, trying to figure out what Hijiri wants from him. “I don’t know what kind of things you like, but I want to make you feel good.”
Hijiri blinks at him, bewilderment painted plainly across his face for once. “Why?”
“You looked like you were enjoying it just now. It was nice. You don’t usually look like you’re enjoying yourself. And looking at it, you’re pretty like this.” His own cheeks heat up a little at the admission, although it can’t compare with Hijiri’s blush, almost as bright as the ropes.
Hijiri doesn’t say anything, tugs at the ropes some more as he twists his face away again. Maki notices his dick now, somewhat standing, and he reaches over to curve a hand around it, jumping at the intensity of Hijiri’s inhale.
“D-don’t do that.” His tone’s as annoyingly commanding as ever, even when slightly breathless.
“Why not?”
“B-because!” His voice cracks, and he pauses before continuing again, back to being a know-it-all like usual. “Because you don’t just do that out of the blue!”
“Then tell me what you want me to do!” Maki growls. He can’t help it. Isn’t sex supposed to be relaxing or whatever? This is just frustrating.
“Why do you want to do this so badly?” Hijiri asks in lieu of an answer. “Don’t tell me I ended up seducing you into bed looking like this.”
“I don’t know,” Maki says, pondering on that, “You could probably seduce anyone you want if you stopped insulting everyone you see.” Hijiri makes a strange noise, and Maki wonders if he said something he wasn’t supposed to again.
“Come again?” Hijiri chokes out.
“I’m just saying, you can get anyone you want in bed just with your looks. You’re really good-looking after all.” They’re both quiet for a moment as they think on what Maki said.
“Just my looks?”
“Huh?”
“Is it really only my looks that are good?” It’s certainly a question to be asked, considering how much time Hijiri spends insulting everyone. But then also, Maki remembers seeing Hijiri in the training rooms after everyone left, remembers watching as Hijiri goes through the moves again, mouthing the words to himself as he steps. He remembers seeing the way Hijiri looked at the audience and at his fellow Sargas members, the softest expression he had ever seen Hijiri make, and he recalls wondering what it’d be like at the end of that gaze.
“Forget it,” Hijiri tries again, so Maki kisses him.
“No,” he whispers, close enough to Hijiri’s face he can see how big Hijiri’s eyes are, wide and shifting this way and that. “There’s definitely more to you than just your looks.”
“What, then?” There’s something odd in Hijiri’s voice, although Maki doesn’t bother trying to decipher that either.
“You’re determined and hard-working,” Maki starts, fingers running idly along the ropes on Hijiri’s stomach, which is how he notices Hijiri’s dick twitching, the hitch in Hijiri’s breathing. “...Is that what you like? Me saying nice things about you?”
“What the hell kind of narcissist do you think I am,” Hijiri says. The muscles in his arms and legs flex as he tugs with renewed force, squirming in the center of the bed.
“If you want me to say nice things, I can do that.” Some of the puzzle pieces are aligning, and Maki thinks he knows what Hijiri wants now. He runs his fingers along the bindings along Hijiri’s elbows. “I like how dedicated you are to your work.” His thumb catches against a knot on the inside of his arm. He rubs there, continues talking. “I heard you encouraging Ritsu the other day. You were cool, talking like that.”
Hijiri is shaking, squirming still. His dick is hard now, and Maki wonders if he should try touching it again. He seems to be doing well like this, though, so he continues, fingers kneading at the skin of Hijiri’s calves. “In your interviews, you’re always so calm. You seem to know what you want to say. I admire that.” He’s definitely feeling the embarrassment, but it’s fine. When he looks up, Hijiri’s eyes are shut, lips parted for breath. He almost looks like he’s angry with how his brows are furrowed, cheeks bright with color.
He’s starting to run out of things to say, so he kisses him again, amazed at how pliant Hijiri’s mouth is now, sucking lightly on Maki’s tongue and allowing Maki to push however he wants. He’s making little noises against Maki’s mouth, and Maki wants to hear them, so he starts kissing away from Hijiri’s mouth. Against the corner of his lips, and then his nose, his cheek, his jaw. He’s running on instinct now, not quite sure what to do, but it seems to be working, Hijiri’s face flushed and helpless to everything Maki does.
“You’re really pretty,” he whispers as he kisses down Hijiri’s throat. He’s not even sure if Hijiri understands but he continues, hands rubbing circles up and down Hijiri’s bound arms. “So pretty. You look beautiful like this.”
A sob pours from Hijiri’s throat, head tilting back, and Maki moves back down to look Hijiri in the face, holding Hijiri’s cheeks so he can’t turn away. “Did I do something wrong?”
It takes Hijiri a moment to notice, eyes blinking open and focusing on Maki. He flinches but stays in place thanks to Maki’s hands. “Wh-?”
“Are you okay?”
Hijiri nods. “Are you done?”
“If you want me to keep going, I will.” Maki waits for Hijiri to nod before he moves back up and kisses the pale skin of Hijiri’s arm. His thoughts pour straight out his mouth as he works his way up to Hijiri’s fingers at the headboard.
He’s gotten down to Hijiri’s thighs, whispering bits of praise and kissing each bit of bare skin as he moves, when the door clicks open again. Yuri walks in, a tray in hand, door shutting behind him. Maki sits up.
“Yuri, what is this?” he asks, because even if he kind of understands what Hijiri wants, he’s still not sure how Yuri plays into it.
“You might need to readjust some of those knots so he can sit up, but I’d like for you to feed him,” Yuri explains, placing the tray on the bedside drawers. “If you need help redoing any of it, I can help.”
“Uh,” says Maki, who now has even more questions.
“He seemed stressed lately, so I thought you could help him relieve some of it.” Yuri says, as he starts untying Hijiri’s legs, making little shushing sounds and rubbing at the ankles when Hijiri makes a noise. “It’s alright, I just want you to eat something. I’ll leave in a moment and then Maki can feed you.”
“I don’t need him to feed me.” Hijiri’s voice wobbles a little. He doesn’t struggle when Yuri undoes the ropes on his arms next. With Maki’s help, the two of them shift Hijiri up against the headboard, and Yuri replaces the rope so Hijiri’s arms are secure behind his back.
“I know you don’t, but let Maki do this, alright?” Yuri pats Hijiri’s cheek. “Is that alright?” He chuckles when Hijiri nods, thumb rubbing at Hijiri’s cheekbone before pulling away. “Good boy. Take care of him, Maki.” Maki only has time to grunt before Yuri exits, leaving the two of them alone again.
“You heard him,” Hijiri huffs, shifting a little. Maki takes a seat next to him, eyeing the plate of omurice.
“He really cares about you, huh.” Maki scoops a spoonful up and blows gently.
“Too much really.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s,” Hijiri sounds frustrated, so Maki reaches over to rub his knee. “I’m kind of glad he meddles, I guess, since I wouldn’t be putting myself in this situation if it wasn’t for him.” He accepts the spoonful, brow furrowing as he chews. “Fucking Yuri. This has way too many carbs.”
“You’re going to have to explain that to me.” Maki says as he prepares another bite.
“What, my diet?”
“Why is Yuri tying you up?”
Hijiri seems to consider his answer as he chews, but then swallows and says, “Again, it’s called bondage, look it up.”
“I know what it is,” Maki grumbles, “I just want to know. Why Yuri, why me?” Hijiri stays quiet, and it suddenly hits Maki that what he’s doing is actually really intimate. He is sitting on his bed, feeding a naked, tied up Hijiri. This actually might be a little intrusive. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“No,” Hijiri says. His expression shifts between a couple complicated emotions before he leans his head back. “Ugh.” Maki feeds him another bite. “It’s really embarrassing, and I don’t want to have to say it, but you kind of do deserve an answer,” he manages. Please, give me time.
Maki thinks he gets it. “Then, what is it about bondage that you like? ...is that still too personal?”
“A little bit.” He lets Maki feed him a few more spoons before turning his head away. “Ugh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t eat anymore.”
“There’s still half of it left!”
“It’s all carbs though.”
Maki thinks for a moment. “A few more bites, at least. I’ll help finish the rest of it.”
“No thanks.”
“A few more bites, or I’ll call Yuri back in.” Hijiri’s glare and scowl return, but he accepts the next spoonful.
Maki’s trying to quickly finish the rest of the omurice when Hijiri finally answers in a hushed voice. “I’m not as confident as you think I am. Yuri figured it out, figured out how to help me with that.”
“Then, how do I fit into that?”
Hijiri’s blush darkened. “Yuri also figured out that I, uh. Kind of like you.”
“And so he thought leaving you tied up for me was a good idea?”
“We didn’t think you’d be this dense. You hang around Izumo after all.”
“Izumo’s a bit more obvious about his feelings than you are. I had no idea you needed something like this.”
“I don’t need it,” Hijiri hisses.
“Wanted?”
Hijiri huffs frustratedly. “‘Like’ is fine. I like this kind of stuff. It makes me feel better. That’s all.” Now that he knows what to look more, Maki’s starting to notice the defensive edge in Hijiri’s harshly clipped statements.
He shrugs. “Alright.” Putting the plate away, he turns back to Hijiri. “Is there anything else you want me to do? Should I be taking my clothes off too?” A package of wet wipes sits on the tray as well, and he wipes his mouth off with one before using another one on Hijiri’s.
“Whatever you want. My schedule’s clear tomorrow and light for the next couple days after. If you want, you can fuck me.”
“I think I’d rather keep doing this.”
“A warning, though. I,” Hijiri hesitates, “I’m going to probably start trying to tell you to stop. Don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yea. Don’t stop, no matter what I do.” Maki’s unease must have been showing, because he amends, “I’ll say ‘red light’ if I actually need you to stop. Okay?”
“Red light?”
“It’s Yuri’s thing. He likes the stoplight system, has me using it usually.”
Well, if it’s Yuri-approved. “Okay then. Anything else?”
Maki’s climbing on him again when he says, quietly, “My arms and stomach are pretty sensitive.”
“Ah.” That explains some things. Although, with the way Hijiri is now positioned… Well, if Hijiri’s putting this much effort in it, he should also try his best.
He regrets that thought a moment later when he’s halfway done sloppily retying Hijiri’s wrists, Hijiri watching him with a dull look and commenting, “You suck at this.”
“I’m trying my best,” Maki snaps back. He gets a decent knot to hold Hijiri’s wrists in place and goes to attempt tying his ankles, noting to himself to later ask Yuri for lessons. As he fiddles, the back of his hand brushes against the bottom of Hijiri’s foot, and he hears a sharp gasp. Curious, he looks up and moves his hand back, watching as Hijiri chokes back another noise, face scrunching up. Huh.
“You’d better not,” Hijiri warns, which means he absolutely should. He grabs the ankle and wiggles his fingers against the arch, grinning when Hijiri splutters and jerks, muscles tight as he pulls this way and that.
He keeps tickling until Hijiri’s head is knocked back as he gasps, body sweaty and heaving, straining against the ropes. Right now might be the most attractive he’s ever seen Hijiri, and he reaches up to brush hair from Hijiri’s forehead and kiss his flushed cheeks.
“I hate you so much right now,” Hijiri gets out between breaths. He leans into Maki’s hand, eyes fluttering shut.
“Sure,” Maki says, pecking him on the lips. “God, you’re beautiful. Do you have any idea how good you look right now?”
Hijiri whines, head twisting away, and Maki kisses along his throat instead. Sex had never seemed all that interesting, but this, Maki thinks, is something he can definitely get behind.
Maki’s pressing kisses down the center of Hijiri’s stomach when he hears a sob, another joining it when he continues kissing and rubbing along Hijiri’s sides. Hijiri’s face is all scrunched up again, and Maki reaches over to hold it. “Beautiful,” he says, and then there’s tears in the corner of Hijuri’s eyes and he’s turning this way and that, trying to push away Maki’s hands.
“Stop,” he murmurs, “Stop that.”
“Don’t think I can,” he whispers back. His fingers caress Hijiri’s cheeks. “Love you too much for that.”
“Please.” Hijiri sobs again, and Maki feels the first of the tears falling against his fingers.
“Stoplight?” he asks, because he remembers what Hijiri said, but he’s still worried.
It takes Hijiri a moment to answer, tears collecting at his cheeks. “Green. Please.”
“Alright,” Maki swallows before leaning in to kiss Hijiri’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Hijiri sniffles, “Fucking sap.”
“Good to know you can still insult me like this.” Maki chuckles. His own chest feels so warm and light at Hijiri’s admission, and he covers Hijiri’s stomach with kisses and drinks in every resulting noise, breathing in Hijiri’s scent. “Can I touch you yet?”
“You are touching me, stupid.” Hijiri gives a watery chuckle.
“No, I meant your dick.” He hears Hijiri spluttering.
“How can you just say it- Ugh, just, do whatever you want.”
“Whatever?”
“Yes,” Hijiri huffs through his teeth, “anything you want. Go ahead. Don’t make me keep saying this.” He sniffs, then coughs. “God, I’m disgusting right now. Don’t look at my face.”
“What happened to anything I want? What if that’s what I want to do?” Maki makes a point of looking up, just in time for Hijiri to turn his face away.
“Gross. Don’t. My face is all covered in snot. Don’t look.” As if to make a point, he sniffs again.
Maki feels himself smiling a little as he crawls up, pulling out the wet wipes again. He’s gentle as he dabs at Hijiri’s cheeks, wiping at Hijiri’s nose and chin. “It’s admittedly endearing,” he informs the other, kissing him once he’s done.
“Ugh.” Hijiri responds to the kiss though, eyes fluttering shut as he leans up and in.
Maki lingers longer than he means to, wanting to stay with the soft warmth of Hijiri’s mouth, the feeling of Hijiri squirming below him, the way Hijiri’s noises seem to cling to his throat. He’s almost overloading in sensation when Hijiri bites his tongue hard and forces him off. Hijiri’s cheeks are bright red, his eyes dazed as he looks up at Maki, chest rising and falling with his breaths. Maki’s own chest swells. Here he is, on Hijiri’s bed, making Hijiri look like this, because Hijiri likes him. Wow.
“If I could, I’d like to just keep you here like this,” he murmurs.
“Ugh, sap. Besides, you know we can’t do that, right?”
“Yea. If only we could. Anything I want, right?” His smile widens at Hijiri’s own small one.
“Yea.”
Reaching down, he takes Hijiri’s dick in his hand, giving it a stroke while watching Hijiri’s face, repeating and staring as Hijiri moans, quiet and low.
“Close,” Hijiri whispers, warm breath brushing against Maki’s nose. Maki nods.
They’re kissing again when Hijiri comes, Maki’s mouth grabbing at his noises as he shudders. When they part, Hijiri has an air of complacency, quietly laughing as he watches Maki try to wipe the cum on his hands onto his already-stained pants.
“Just take them off. You can borrow mine and get those clean in the morning,” he calls sleepily. Disgruntled, Maki scrunches his nose at the splotches on his jeans and peels them off, dropping them over the side of the bed. It’s then that he remembers he’s also hard. Hijiri also seems to realize at the same time, blinking hard at the sleep in his eyes. “Wait, untie me so I can-”
“It’s fine,” Maki tells him. He doesn’t usually see the need to touch himself, but right now, he finds himself tugging off his boxers, dick in his hand as he sits on the edge of the bed and strokes, keeping his eyes on Hijiri’s. When he finishes, he wipes his own cum on his pants as well, then looks back up.
“So, uh. Am I supposed to use the wet wipes to clean you off? Can I give you a bath?” Hijiri looks like he’s about to fall asleep, so Maki’s pretty sure the answer’s No, but he asks anyways.
“In here? Go ahead.” What? Hijiri yawns. “Like, get a towel and a tub of water or whatever. Don’t carry me naked in the hall. Do I really have to tell you that?”
“You’d think your attitude would improve after getting off.”
“Too bad. Untie me already.” His tone is still terrible, but as Maki reaches over to undo the knots on the headboard, he looks down again at Hijiri’s face, soft and satisfied, and finds himself matching the goofy, lopsided smile.
---
I still find this absolutely embarrassing in how ridiculously self-indulgent this is, but I'm reposting it here because it got a surprising amount of views on AO3, so I guess people actually like my self-indulgence? Or something haha. Title's from Coldplay's Something Just Like This, because I couldn't think of anything better to use.