Work Text:
Hajime opens the door and shrugs off his jacket, heaving a sigh as he kicks off his shoes. He glances at the coat rack only to be reminded that it’s still packed and he’d been meaning to clean it up. Of course, he hasn’t been able to get around to that yet. Work has been kicking his ass lately, and he arrives home exhausted every day, it seems. He lets his jacket fall to the floor and makes his way into the living room, rolling his shoulders to work out some of the tension.
“Welcome home!” he hears from the kitchen. He checks inside.
Nagito is standing over the stove, stirring what looks like a mix of vegetables in a skillet. He’s wearing an apron and has his hair pulled back in a small ponytail. He hums softly as he works.
Hajime cracks a smile and drifts closer to stand behind him. He rests his chin on Nagito’s shoulder. “What ‘cha making?” he asks.
“Just some leftovers for dinner,” Nagito says. He tilts his head to allow Hajime better access. “How was work?”
“The same.” Hajime sighs. “Naegi held a team meeting and we all had to listen to him talk about finding hope for an hour. Again.”
Nagito shifts away slightly. “Finding hope is very important,” he says sternly. “In this world especially. Why, without hope -”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hajime cuts him off. “It’s over now, and I’m just glad to be home. I’ve been thinking about my bed all afternoon.”
“Oh, you’ve been thinking about your bed, have you?” From the corner of his eye Hajime sees a sly smile stretch over Nagito’s face. “And what about me? Am I such trash that I don’t even feature in your fantasies?”
Hajime slides his arms around Nagito’s waist. “Stop that. You know what I meant.”
“What you meant, huh?” Nagito sets the skillet down and turns in Hajime’s arms so they’re eye to eye. The sly smile is still prominent on his face. “Tell me, what did you mean?”
Hajime rolls his eyes but concedes, pulling Nagito close into a deep kiss. Nagito takes control immediately, pushing Hajime backward until he hits the far wall. Nagito buries his hands into Hajime’s perfectly pressed work shirt, yanking it out of his pants to slide his hands up Hajime’s chest. Hajime works his hands into the tie of Nagito’s apron, pulling at it to get it loose.
Still kissing Nagito, Hajime walks backward to where he knows the couch is. The two of them separate briefly so Nagito can pull his apron over his head and throw it on the ground, then he pushes Hajime over the arm of the couch onto his back, following him down soon after. In retaliation, Hajime pulls him in for another stinging kiss.
Nagito begins to work at the buttons to Hajime’s shirt while Hajime digs his hands into Nagito’s hair. It’s just as soft as ever, but his progress is impeded by the hair tie, which he inelegantly yanks out. Nagito pulls away and hisses at the slight pain, but Hajime quickly turns his attention to the soft flesh of Nagito’s neck, biting down hard. Nagito gasps.
His work with Hajime’s buttons done, Nagito pulls open Hajime’s shirt and runs his nails up his chest. Hajime lets out a sharp gasp as a nail scrapes a nipple, and Nagito huffs as he pulls Hajime into a deep kiss.
Hajime slides his hands into the waistband of Nagito’s pants, gripping his ass to pull him closer. Nagito grinds down into Hajime’s crotch, making sure he can feel how hard he is. Hajime groans into Nagito’s mouth.
Nagito suddenly pulls away, leaving Hajime gasping. He works his way backwards down Hajime’s chest to the zipper of his pants, maintaining eye contact as he goes.
He gives Hajime a small smirk as he pulls his pants open, freeing his aching cock. Nagito lowers his head further to slide his lips around the tip, running his tongue against the tip.
Without warning, Nagito lunges forward, taking in the entire length with practiced ease. Hajime lets out a sharp cry. Nagito pulls his head away slowly, bobbing his head to keep the friction.
He glances up at Hajime and Hajime manages a soft smile. He really looks good like this, mouth around Hajime’s cock. His hair almost seems to float around his shoulders, cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. A golden light seems to shine from behind him, lighting him with a fiery aura as he works his magic.
Wait, either Hajime is imagining things, or -
Hajime shoots upward, dislodging Nagito who sits back with a noise of confusion. Hajime barely pays him any mind, distracted by what is behind him.
The skillet of food Nagito had been working on is ablaze, and the flames have already reached the curtains behind the sink. The fire is spreading fast.
Hajime leaps up from the couch and promptly falls flat on his face as he trips over his pants halfway down his legs.
“Oh dear,” Nagito says somewhere beside him, far too bemused for the situation.
Hajime manages to struggle to his feet and pull his pants up enough to make it to the closet where he pulls out the fire extinguisher. He manages to douse the flames and turns back to Nagito, who is kneeling on the floor by the couch where he’d been since Hajime had pushed him away.
“Ah,” he says calmly. “I must have left the stove on.”
Hajime throws the fire extinguisher at him. It somehow manages to hit the couch and ricochet back at him instead, knocking him back onto the singed floor of the kitchen.
Hajime lays on his back as the smoke swirls through the air above him. He sighs.
Suddenly his view is blocked by Nagito, crouching over him.
“Where were we?” he asks casually, reaching down to stoke Hajime’s cock through his pants, which are still undone.
Hajime rolls over, gets back on his feet, and goes to bed.