Work Text:
It was about twenty minutes before he was getting off his shift. Akira was standing behind the counter of a convenience store, manning the cash register. The convenience store buzzed with the constant hum of air conditioning and music that played from the overhead speakers, though Akira had long since tuned the ambient noises out.
Working at a convenience store wasn't the brightest moment of his life, but a job was a job, and he needed the money. He supposed he should be grateful he hadn't ended up with any unpleasant coworkers, and he was lucky that his manager wasn't a hard-ass. Still, there was nothing spectacular about standing at a cash register for hours or stocking shelves.
Lethargy dulled his eyesight, made worse by the white fluorescent ceiling lights. It had been a long day today attending his classes at university and then going straight to work. The light fixtures in the store gleamed over the reflective surface of the tiled floor, looking almost too bright to his eyes. From his view, all he could see were rows of shelves spanning across the store, separated by narrow aisles in between that allowed passageway. The flooring was as pristinely white as a hospital interior, though the shelves were lined with a variety of colorful merchandise, and the walls had been plastered with a bunch of flashy advertisements and fliers.
When twenty minutes passed and his shift was finally over, Akira let his coworker take over and retreated to the back room, somewhat relieved to get away from the overstimulating view.
He walked over to his locker and inserted the key. After opening it, he took off the white apron he'd been wearing and started mindlessly folding it into something that vaguely resembled a square, not really caring if it didn't look neat. He then stashed the apron inside and grabbed his jacket.
Akira quickly put on his jacket and zipped it up, already feeling more comfortable now that he was out of his work uniform. Reaching into the pocket of his pants, he felt around for his phone.
Akira took it out and checked his phone. The screen lit up, and he was met with the sight of his lockscreen wallpaper along with the time that said 22:03. No text from Shiki, of course, but Akira knew the man was already coming. He sighed and closed his locker.
The first time Shiki had shown up to pick him up after work, Akira had been bewildered to say the least. He'd thought Shiki had needed to buy something from the convenience store and just so happened to stop by the one Akira was working at to piss him off or something, but Shiki had simply sat outside on his motorcycle the whole time as he waited for Akira to get off his shift.
It had become a routine. By now, Akira had gotten used to Shiki showing up to the convenience store around the time his shift was over—probably because Shiki did it every time on the days Akira worked, but that was beside the point. He'd started expecting Shiki to come pick him up now, much to Akira's own dismay at this realization. Somehow it'd become sort of an unspoken agreement between them, though Akira had no idea when this happened.
Akira couldn't complain though. Having Shiki pick him up from work meant he was saving money that would've been otherwise used on transportation fares. And if Shiki never said anything about it, why should Akira?
It just pissed him off a little having to rely on Shiki, that was all. He was already freeloading at the guy’s place and now he was using him as a ride back to their apartment. The worst part was that Shiki never expected any form of payment in return. When Akira had asked Shiki if he'd wanted to split the rent, Shiki had just smirked at him, as if he knew there was no way in hell Akira could afford to pay even half of the rent every month.
Akira left the backroom and walked down an aisle of the store, making his way to the food section. His two coworkers who were restocking the shelves said goodbye to him, but Akira just acknowledged them with a nod in their direction.
At the food section, Akira grabbed a bento from one of the shelves and went to go bag it up. He didn't have to pay for it; one of the perks of being an employee here. His manager never minded him grabbing a free dinner here and would even encourage him to do so, so long as he obviously wasn't taking too much stuff from the stock.
After bagging the bento, Akira moved toward the exit. He took a breath of fresh air once he passed through the automatic doors.
Outside, the sky was pitch black and the only sources of light nearby were the neon blue signs placed in front of the convenience store, and the light from inside the store itself that filtered through the glass display windows. The cold wind blew in Akira’s face, whisking away the fatigue in his eyes, and his mind felt a little clearer because of it.
Looking to his left, he noticed his manager not too far away from him, clearly taking a smoke break. Akira stepped to the side for someone that was entering the convenience store, inadvertently coming to stand right next to his manager.
"Just came off your shift?" Motomi asked, easily starting the small talk.
"Yeah." Akira didn't directly look at Motomi, keeping his head somewhat turned away so the smoke didn't blow into his face. The wind was doing a good job of keeping the ashy smell away.
He heard Motomi hum. There was a pause in the conversation for a few seconds; Motomi inhaled and breathed out before saying, "You waiting for your boyfriend?"
Akira opened his mouth to respond, but then thought about it and decided to hold his tongue. It would take too much effort to explain, and so he just shrugged with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, letting Motomi think what he wanted. He didn't really care what his coworkers—or in this case, manager—thought of his personal life. It wasn't like he had anything to prove to them.
He and Shiki weren't boyfriends; they weren't even friends. They were more like roommates if anything, though Akira was hard pressed to call their relationship like that either. After all, roommates didn't usually have sex with each other. He and Shiki had sex sometimes, but that was it. There was nothing deeper to their relationship than that. Why Shiki insisted on picking him up after work all the time, he didn't know, but he'd long given up trying to dissuade him. Shiki never bothered to explain himself anyway, and Akira knew he'd look stupid trying to pester an answer out of him. He didn’t need to give Shiki any more ammunition in ridiculing him.
“He seems to care about you a lot,” Motomi said, clearly not put off by Akira’s lack of responses. He was probably used to it by now or didn't mind one-sided conversations in general. The fact that he hadn't written Akira up yet for his lack of social skills probably spoke as a testament to both those statements.
Akira glanced at him, raising one brow. “…What makes you say that?” he asked, genuinely curious to hear this from Motomi’s perspective. As far as Akira was concerned, he and Shiki couldn’t be more incompatible with each other if they tried.
“Hmm… call it an old man’s intuition?" Motomi scratched his head. "Or something like that.” He cracked a grin at Akira.
Akira looked back at the road. He knew he shouldn’t have asked anything.
It was a few more minutes of waiting before the distant sound of an engine roaring could be heard. The rumbling steadily got closer. Soon a motorcycle appeared into view down the block, its headlight producing a bright beam of light on the road.
Motomi blew out a puff of smoke. "Oh? Isn't that him?"
Akira looked. There was no way he could mistake that motorcycle for anyone else's. "Yeah."
They watched as the motorcycle pulled to a stop on the road a few feet away from them. Its engine was still rumbling quietly as the owner of the motorcycle steadied it to lean on one side.
"I'm going now," Akira said to Motomi. Motomi just gave him a nod and a wave.
Akira kept his hands in his pockets as he made his way toward Shiki. Shiki, meanwhile, was taking off his helmet. He brought it into the crook of his arm, the wind ruffling his hair. As Akira approached him, his red eyes landed on Akira immediately.
"Akira."
That was all he said, though to Akira, it conveyed much more than that. Somehow, Shiki managed to slip in the words “hurry up” and “get on” just from uttering Akira's name alone.
Shiki grabbed a second helmet and held it out to Akira expectantly. Akira looked at Shiki for a moment, then sighed and took the helmet from Shiki's hand, mounting the motorcycle with him.
He sat behind Shiki. Turning his head to the side, he intended to cast a glance at Motomi but Motomi was already gone, having finished his smoke break. It was annoying to admit, but what Motomi had said had left a thought in his mind. Akira knew he wasn't the most adept at dealing with people's emotions, but if Motomi of all people thought that this was Shiki's way of showing concern toward him, then…
“Thanks," Akira quietly said as he put on the helmet, the word feeling almost heavy on his tongue. "For the ride."
Shiki scoffed, keeping his back toward Akira. “Don’t bother subjecting me to such useless words."
Akira stared at Shiki's back, mild humiliation flickering in him. A brief thought flashed in his mind that he knew he shouldn't have said anything in the first place, and now he was left feeling pretty stupid for it. Of course Shiki wouldn't care about whether he was grateful or not. It wasn't like he was doing this for Akira's sake, but by his own capricious inclination.
Akira let out a sigh before glancing at the road. He knew getting off the bike now would just be petty, and it wasn't like he was no longer grateful toward Shiki just because of that slight. He was just annoyed he'd bothered saying thanks in the first place when he should've known it would get rejected.
Shiki put his helmet back on. "If you weren't grateful, you wouldn't have waited."
Akira lifted his gaze from the road to the back of Shiki's head. For a moment, Akira didn't know what to say or think. Maybe it was because the helmet had muffled his words, but Shiki's voice had sounded almost softer than before.
In the end, all Akira could manage in response was, "I guess."
The humiliation he'd been feeling waned after that. But Akira was still annoyed, this time at how easily Shiki had read him. Shiki was right; if Akira weren't grateful about this, he would've just taken a bus ride home instead of waiting for him and made Shiki waste his time coming to the convenience store in the first place.
The tension was less icy now though, and as Shiki started up the engine of the motorcycle once more, Akira took this as a sign to hook the plastic bag around his wrist before putting his arms around Shiki. It was an awkward motion of Akira pulling himself toward him and shifting forward on the seat. Compared to the bulky jacket Akira had on, Shiki was wearing a full leather riding suit.
"Hold on tight," Shiki said, his head turned halfway to Akira. "Or do you want to fall off and die on the road?"
Though Akira couldn't see Shiki's expression because of the helmet, he knew there was a smirk there. Akira gave a not so discreet "tch" and pressed himself against Shiki's back, holding Shiki's waist tight. Now Shiki was starting to piss him off.
Shiki offered something that sounded like his usual "hmph" and turned his face back to the front. Gripping the handlebars, he shifted gears and the bike pulled forward. The engine went from purring idly to sounding out a loud roar as Shiki kicked up the acceleration. They went down the road, leaving the convenience store and its garish lights behind.
On the road, the darkness surrounded them, although it wasn't entirely pitch black. The faint lights of the city glimmered like a cluster of stars, specks of yellow and white dotting the nighttime cityscape. Lights from nearby cars driving by helped to further illuminate the dimly lit road.
The breeze was gentle, but cool, and Akira shivered occasionally. His head was covered by the helmet so he didn't feel the wind blowing into his face too much, and his jacket kept him pretty warm, but his hands were exposed. He briefly considered buying gloves to wear like Shiki. It wouldn't be a bad investment, especially since it was only going to get colder in the coming months. And if these motorcycle rides were going to continue to be a routine thing, then all the more reason to.
The plastic bag rippled noisily in the wind. Although they were on a motorcycle, it wasn't that loud. The bike was humming steadily on the road, and to the side were the quiet drones of cars driving by. The road they were on wasn't that busy, even at intersections, so there wasn't much traffic.
Akira found himself almost wanting to close his eyes to the nighttime lull of the city. He'd been uncomfortable with being on a motorcycle at first, but after a few weeks of this, he'd gotten used to riding one and had even come to appreciate these quiet rides in the night. Shiki was tolerable when he wasn't talking, and the feeling of the night breeze constantly drifting by was nice. It made him forget about whatever stuff was on his mind, at least for the duration of the ride.
He watched idly as the trees and buildings in his view passed by. It wasn't a bad feeling, riding on the motorcycle like this with Shiki.
The road got quieter as less cars drove by, and soon more trees started to replace the street lights. The bike decelerated, and after a few minutes of cruising down several blocks, they came to a complete stop.
Shiki turned off the ignition and removed his helmet.
"Shiki?" Akira took a glance around. This wasn't where their apartment was.
"Come," Shiki said tersely, offering no clarification. He started walking on the street without even looking back at Akira.
Akira stared at Shiki's moving figure for a moment before also taking off his helmet. He left his stuff on the bike and followed after him. Stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jacket, he was relieved to finally be able to shield them from the cold.
Akira breathed in the night air, feeling a bit more alert as the stuffiness in his face left. Shiki was walking ahead of him, his figure barely visible in the dark. There were no street lights nearby, but the moon was out, casting a pale glow down on them. Their shadows were tall and slanted on the sidewalk. The trees rustled softly, leaves shaking in the air as a breeze blew by.
After a few seconds, Shiki suddenly stopped, causing Akira to almost bump into him. Shiki grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the wall. Akira nearly stumbled but he regained his balance when he was pushed into the wall with his back against it, Shiki's hand on his shoulder.
He came face-to-face with Shiki. Akira met his stare, a brow quirking up as he gave Shiki a 'what the fuck are you doing' look, though he wasn't sure if Shiki could even see it. From his own view, he could barely make out Shiki's eyes in the moonlight; most of his expression was obscured by the darkness.
After a few seconds of silence on Shiki's end, Akira sighed, a little annoyed by the lack of any explanation so far from Shiki. "You got something to do here?"
Finally, that prompted Shiki to step closer, his hand gripping Akira's shoulder tight. It wasn't harsh though; it was just enough force to tell Akira that Shiki wanted him to stay still. Akira flattened himself against the wall as Shiki's stare pierced him, his eyes looking like they were dissecting everything about Akira. Akira shifted his weight from one foot to the other but didn't look away.
Shiki lowered his head, and his lips brushed Akira's neck.
Akira tensed immediately, eyes scanning the area to see if there was anyone nearby. "…Oi."
"Just a taste," Shiki murmured.
Akira rolled his eyes but didn't do anything as Shiki mouthed at his neck. It was never 'just a taste' with this guy. And right now, it was clear he wanted a full course meal out of Akira.
He kept his mouth shut, his eyes surveying their surroundings as Shiki kissed his neck. He couldn't see anyone nearby, but it was too dark to accurately tell. Hopefully that meant he and Shiki were also hidden in the shadows from any possible onlookers. Akira strained his ears to listen for any sounds, but he heard nothing aside from the wind.
"Relax," Shiki said, his breath warm and ticklish on Akira's skin.
Akira had no idea how Shiki was remaining calm in this situation, but then again, he probably would've liked it if they got caught. He was weirdly possessive like that.
After one more glanceover, Akira finally looked away from their surroundings and cast his gaze down at Shiki, who was still mouthing at his neck. Akira swallowed, his throat bobbing against Shiki's lips. Shiki seemed to remember the 'no visible hickey' rule since he wasn't biting down on Akira's neck, but that meant anywhere that was covered by a shirt wasn't off-limits, and Shiki often took full advantage of that. Case in point—just below Akira's collarbone were some dark hickeys that Shiki had left a few days ago.
Shiki's hand reached up toward the zipper of Akira's jacket and pulled it down, revealing Akira's shirt underneath. Akira shivered as the night air permeated his skin more easily now. Shiki's hand went under his shirt, feeling his abdomen around before trailing up and brushing his nipple.
Akira's mouth was closed but he let a grunt slip when Shiki's fingers pinched him there. It was out of surprise though; he hadn't thought Shiki would actually go this far. The leather touch of his gloved fingers was smooth but cold. Akira wanted to pull away from it, but he was already completely backed against the wall.
Shiki continued kissing his neck, his mouth warm and wet on Akira's skin. He'd gotten bolder about it, having gone from using just his lips to pressing open-mouthed kisses against Akira's neck. All the while his hand was still playing with Akira's nipple, the pad of his thumb pressing down on it and rubbing over it in circles.
Akira had to tighten his jaw to keep his mouth shut. The night air was chilling his skin thanks to Shiki keeping his shirt lifted. He turned his head to the side, trying to hold still despite the shivers that rippled through his body.
Shiki only seemed to get more hungry and not at all satisfied with his sampling of Akira's neck though. The kissing started to become noisy, wet sounds coming from his mouth where he continuously nipped Akira's skin. Akira could feel Shiki's warm breaths on him; they were slightly uneven. Shiki's other hand went behind Akira's waist, slipping into the space between the wall and his back. He pressed his body into Akira's.
Shiki was going to give him a hickey at this rate. Akira grabbed Shiki's arm and pulled his neck away from Shiki. "That's enough, right?"
Shiki stopped and lifted his head. Akira was a bit caught off guard; he hadn't actually expected Shiki to stop and listen. Shiki said nothing though. He just stared at Akira, his lips faintly pursed in what Akira could only make out as dissatisfaction.
Seconds passed and Shiki's eyes were still locked on him, his gaze imperceptible. The air grew heavy and thick with silence, and it started to make Akira wary. Akira opened his mouth to say something. "Shiki—"
Shiki leaned forward and kissed him, muffling his mouth.
Akira's eyes widened. Shiki took advantage of Akira's momentary state of shock to slide his arm out of Akira's grip. He took both of Akira's wrists into his hands, pinning them against the wall.
The back of Akira's hands met concrete. Akira grunted as Shiki leaned into him, his body pressing up against Akira even more. Akira tried to pull his hands off the wall but stopped when he felt Shiki lightly squeezing his wrists. His leather gloves pressed into Akira's skin; a warning not to resist.
Akira looked and saw Shiki's gaze boring into him, too close to his face, their foreheads almost touching. The night cast a complete shadow over Shiki's eyes, yet somehow, in Akira's mind, he could almost perceive the crimson hue of them, vivid and full of hunger. The way he was looking at Akira now, it resembled that of a starving beast. And to deprive him of this moment would mean to deny him his meal; to exacerbate his craving.
…Damn it. Akira closed his eyes.
It was obvious Shiki was fully intent on having things go his way whether Akira wanted it or not. That was how things always went with him. Akira complying now just meant the process would go along quicker; the end result would still be the same.
Opening his mouth a little, he felt Shiki pushing his tongue in. Shiki's tongue slid against his own, and heat started to rush through the blood under Akira's skin. His face became tinged with warmth, no longer prickling from the sharp and bitter wind.
Shiki let go of his wrists, as if sensing that Akira wasn't going to resist anymore. He slid one hand to Akira's nape, the other going down to the small of Akira's back.
With the pressure gone on his wrists, Akira lowered his hands from the wall, his own hands reaching to clutch Shiki's back. He pulled Shiki closer to him so that even their chests were touching. Shiki seemed to take kindly to that, as he pushed his tongue into Akira's mouth even more. The kiss deepened and Akira felt a pressure on the back of his neck where Shiki's hand urged him to lift his head more. He complied.
They must have been kissing for minutes already. Akira was breathing quite heavily. One of his hands found its way up to the back of Shiki's hair, and he clutched it.
Their kissing was a mix of messy and a little desperate. The last time they had sex was three, four days ago? Between Shiki's modeling work and Akira's studies, their schedules rarely aligned. Most of the time Shiki wasn't even home when Akira was, so it was a wonder how he was even able to make time out of his busy schedule to pick up Akira after work.
When Shiki reached for the belt on Akira's pants, that was when Akira pushed Shiki away in the chest.
"We're in public," Akira said, a bit out of breath, his words not coming out as sharp as he would've liked, partly due to his thoughts being muddled. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, his heart a little jumpy thanks to that move Shiki had just done. Did the man really not care about getting caught doing it here?
"There's no one here," Shiki replied, unperturbed. He seemed completely convinced that would make for a persuasive argument, as his hands were already reaching for Akira's pants again.
"You—" Akira scrambled to stop Shiki's hands, "can't you wait until we're home?"
Shiki's eyes lifted to meet Akira's. "No."
And that was all Shiki responded with.
Akira gave him a look. It was obvious from Shiki's tone and the way he was staring down imperiously at Akira that he wasn't going to relent.
A few more seconds passed with neither of them saying anything. Shiki was sending Akira a hard and heated glare though, his gaze practically burning into him.
Akira eventually sighed. Wasting more time here just meant going home even later. Huffing, he turned around to face the wall, showing his back to Shiki.
"Tch." He couldn't believe he was going along with this. "Just make it quick," Akira said. He was freezing.
"I intend to," Shiki replied. There was an arrogant tone to the way he said it that grated on Akira's nerve, but before Akira could talk back to him, Shiki leaned forward and grabbed Akira by the hips, pulling Akira back against him. In the next second, his hands were roaming under Akira's shirt, caressing his abdomen and the sides of his waist, smooth leather gliding across his bare skin.
Akira swallowed, remaining silent as he let Shiki feel him up. His body began to warm up and under Shiki's touch. Shiki's weight was heavy against his back; a constant reminder of their compromising position. Something warm grazed his ear, and it took Akira a second to realize Shiki was nibbling on it.
Eventually, Shiki brought one hand down to Akira's pants, and his palm rubbed over him. Akira let out a small, shuddering breath, his body loosening in Shiki's hold.
"Seems like you don't dislike this as much as you let on," Shiki said coolly, the smirk palpable in his voice. He grabbed Akira through his pants. "You're already this hard."
"Look who's talking," Akira bit back, feeling Shiki’s own hard-on that had been building against him this whole time. Clearly Shiki had no intention of making this quick, not if he was going to waste time pointing out useless shit like this. "Thought you were going to make this quick," Akira muttered in hopes of inciting him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. For some reason, Shiki was taking his time and prolonging things now when he'd been acting so quick to undress Akira before. It was like everything he did was for the sake of pissing Akira off.
Shiki chuckled in his ear, his voice soft and low, and not in a good way, but in a dangerous way that made Akira's nape tingle. Akira wanted to shrug his shoulders and shake the feeling off.
"Impatient, are we…" Shiki murmured, his hands slowly undoing Akira's belt.
"To get home," Akira said, having none of it, though he was starting to feel affected by what Shiki was doing in spite of his reluctance. The tension in him was no longer holding him up as stiffly.
The belt came undone and Akira felt his chest loosen with an exhale. Shiki didn't get on with it just yet though. He continued playing with Akira's clothed cock, his palm rubbing against it through his jeans. Akira felt himself twitch in his pants in response to Shiki's touch.
Shiki started grinding against him, hips slowly pressing into him. At times he bucked his hips forward, and despite both their clothes being in the way, it felt like Shiki was almost thrusting into him.
Akira breathed out quietly, rolling his hips back toward Shiki's. A rhythm formed between them after that, both of them trying to meet each other's hips. The flat of Shiki's palm was planted against Akira's abdomen, holding him steady as they grinded against each other. Akira's cock started to get uncomfortable in his pants, especially with Shiki's hand teasing him. It began to ache there.
"Stop wasting time and get on with it already," Akira said, then grunted. The moment he'd said those words, Shiki had pinched one of his nipples.
He could practically hear the smirk in Shiki's voice. "How about you beg for it." His fingers twisted Akira's nipple. "Maybe I'll consider it then."
Akira gritted his teeth. Shiki was still playing with him even now. If he'd known Shiki was going to drag it out this long he never would've agreed to this. This wasn't turning out to be so much of a quick fuck after all.
Akira didn't give Shiki the pleasure of hearing him beg or getting a response at all. He kept his mouth shut. Shiki started rubbing Akira's cock harder after that, and though Akira tried to hold himself still, he let one buck of his hips slip through, almost letting his voice out when he felt heat dragging across his cock.
He turned his face to the side, his neck flaring up. "Shiki," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He hadn't meant to, but the name had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Akira lowered his face after that. He didn't know what he wanted to say anymore.
Shiki's face nuzzled his hair, the act surprisingly gentle. It seemed like Akira didn't need to say anything at all, as Shiki pulled off his gloves and started undoing the button and zipper of Akira's pants.
Akira felt more exposed than usual even though his pants had only been tugged down just enough for what was needed. It was undoubtedly because of the cold air and the fact that they were doing this outside where anyone could catch them in the act.
Behind him, he heard a zipper being pulled down.
It was a long, continuous sound, and Akira swallowed, the noise sending heat straight down to his cock. He was facing the wall, but he could almost imagine the riding suit parting in the middle to reveal Shiki's body and the scars on his skin, each zip slowly revealing more, until he was exposed all the way down to his cock.
The sound of the zipper stopped, and Akira's breath paused in his throat.
He heard a cap being opened. A moment later, a slicked cock was pressing into him. Akira wasn't sure how to feel knowing that Shiki had come prepared for this, as if he'd been anticipating a moment like this.
Akira tensed as Shiki pushed in. Shiki's hand was on his hip, holding him steady. Akira forced himself to stay still as Shiki's cock pressed into him, slowly stretching him open.
"Tight," Shiki murmured into his ear, his voice a bit strained. Only when he was in all the way did wrap his arms around Akira's waist, pulling Akira back toward him with a small buck of his hips.
Akira wouldn't deny he was on more edge than usual right now. How was he supposed to relax when they were doing this outside?
This was all Shiki's fault.
Surprisingly, no one had walked by this street so far, sparing themselves from the deviant act that was taking place here, but the cars were a different story. In the distance, the faint hum of cars driving down the adjacent road could be heard. Akira just had to hope none of them decided to drive down this block.
Shiki gave slow thrusts. His hands, no longer covered by leather, were gripping Akira's hips. They were warm and callused, pulling Akira's hips back to meet each languid thrust of his cock.
Akira planted his forearms against the wall for support, his jaw tight. Damn Shiki; he was really taking his time, going slow for no reason. He could just fuck Akira quickly and get this over with, but it was obvious he wanted to prolong their stay here and risk their chances of getting caught as much as possible. There was something seriously wrong with this guy, but there was also something wrong with Akira for going along with his whims in the first place, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his own actions.
Akira bit his lip, glancing down at where an aching heat had been pooling in him. His cock was craving for a touch, anything. He'd been planning on holding it in until he got home, but thanks to Shiki going back on his word on "making it quick," he couldn't ignore the heat there any longer.
Shit… Akira felt his cheeks warm in spite of the autumn cold as his hand found its way down to his cock. He parted his lips, letting a sigh slip as his hand wrapped around it. He held it there in his hand, simply taking in the weight of it.
Now that his hand was on his cock, he didn't want to let go. Akira gave a few, small jerks, testing how badly he wanted it—and then he started stroking himself fully, his lips sealed shut to prevent any noises from coming out. That didn't stop his voice from humming out low moans from the back of his throat, however. His cock became slick as his hand dragged over it; he hadn't even realized he'd been leaking this much.
Closing his eyes, it was a futile attempt at hoping that whatever he was doing couldn't really be that bad, so long as he didn't have his eyes open to process the depravity that was taking place. His face started to burn with heat, the nighttime chill all but forgotten. It was one thing if Shiki were the only one enjoying this, but it was another if he was getting off on this, too. Akira felt like he was an active participant in this now, which made him just as guilty as Shiki.
"Looks like you're enjoying this too," Shiki whispered mockingly in his ear, obviously having caught sight of Akira's hand around his cock.
"Shut up…" He hated how Shiki's voice in his ear only turned him on more. Akira closed his mouth again, muffling a moan from his throat as Shiki thrust into him at the same time his hand stroked up his cock. Shiki had probably done that on purpose.
Shiki chuckled, but his voice sounded strained underneath his breaths. He adjusted the timing of his thrusts to fuck into Akira whenever Akira's hand dragged upwards. Akira's knees nearly buckled, but he managed to stay on his feet. Shiki's arms were hooked around his waist, holding Akira steady while he fucked into Akira, hips snapping roughly. Akira could feel Shiki's weight against his back, their bodies pressed together. He trembled, his cock so sensitive in his hand as Shiki's warmth enveloped him.
It was taking too much effort trying to breathe while holding his moans back at the same time, and so Akira parted his lips, letting himself exhale through his mouth. As soon as he let go of that mental block, his hand started to feel even better around his cock. The heat of Shiki's cock plowing into him became more intense, too, and Akira moaned out, bucking his hips into his hand.
Akira no longer had the self-control to stop himself from frantically stroking his cock. Behind him, he could feel each deep thrust of Shiki's cock penetrating him, stretching him open. The way Shiki was hitting into him made Akira feel even more sensitive to the hot and tight grip of his hand. Akira's body burned with heat, a prickling sensation dotting his skin. He felt so warm, so much so that he was starting to sweat.
The sound of a car nearby made Akira's breath freeze in his throat, his hand coming to a halt in spite of the plummeting ache he felt in his body. The car came closer, driving down the very block they were on, and Akira tightened around Shiki. He heard Shiki breathe out behind him. There was a pause. A pair of hands moved to Akira's hips, nearly bruising them in a tight grip. Shiki's thrusts picked up again after that, no longer matching the pace of Akira's hand, but now driving into Akira as fast as possible.
Akira nearly moaned out at the sudden force, expelling the breath he'd been holding in his throat. His body trembled in Shiki's hands.
The car seemed to take forever driving down the road. Akira couldn't hold still and wait for it to pass by any longer. Pressing his mouth to the back of his hand against the wall, his moans were muffled as he resumed squeezing his cock.
He was so hard, hand desperately stroking up and down, the heat spreading from his groin up toward his lower abdomen. Each stroke felt so good, his mind turning hazier by the second. Heat clouded his head, his thoughts fading into a fog. Akira's eyes were closed shut. All he could focus on was the pleasure mounting in him and Shiki's cock thrusting into him. There was no steadiness or matching rhythm to either of their paces anymore; they were both trying to get off as fast as possible.
Shiki reached over and made Akira pull his hand away from his mouth, forcing Akira's voice to come out again. He put his hand over Akira's against the wall, pinning it there. As the car came up right behind them, the drone of its engine sounding louder than ever, Akira involuntarily clenched down on Shiki's cock. For a moment Akira couldn't breathe, his body incredibly tense, but his hand kept moving, dragging heat up around his cock. All he could hear was Shiki's breaths along with his own ragged ones, accompanied by the sound of their bodies meeting.
"You're getting even tighter," Shiki breathed into Akira's ear, his voice slightly unsteady, and it only made heat ripple through Akira more. "Does the thought of getting caught like this excite you that much?"
"Nn…" Akira had meant to deny that statement, but he couldn't find the word in his mouth.
Shiki brought one hand up from Akira's hip to hold his chin. He forced Akira to turn his face to the side, capturing Akira's lips in a kiss.
Akira opened his eyes, catching a faint glimpse of Shiki's eyes, not derisive and cold like they usually might be, but filled with fervorous heat. He closed his eyes again afterward, his cheeks hot, and he pushed his tongue against Shiki's.
Akira moaned lowly, his head feeling warm and light as they kissed. The car was gone now, but Akira hardly cared. Shiki kept hitting that spot just right, and Akira was becoming helpless from his touch.
Shiki's hand was warm on top of his. Before he knew it, Shiki was intertwining their fingers, his fingers curling into Akira's palm against the wall.
The gesture was all that was needed for Akira to start coming. Akira let a few needy moans slip into Shiki's mouth, unable to help himself as he spilled hot seed against the wall, though he was too far gone to even care at this point. His body was doing and feeling things he couldn't control anymore. He felt himself tightening around Shiki, spasming even as he tried to hold still while they kissed. Shiki continued to push into him despite these spasms, but then Shiki let out a quiet grunt. His hand tightened on Akira's hand with a squeeze. Akira could feel Shiki stiffening in him even more in that split second. Then Shiki's cock was pulsing in him, filling him with warmth.
Akira panted into the kiss, his head hot and feverish while Shiki came inside him. All the while, his own cock was coming in thick spurts, dirtying up the wall. It all felt so much more intense than usual. He could barely breathe, every muscle in his body going taut, as if his whole body was focused on coming and nothing else. Shiki was grunting quietly into Akira's mouth while they kissed, his own cock spasming hard while he held Akira with his arm across Akira's waist.
It was hot and tight where Shiki was buried deep inside him, and Akira felt every twitch, every pulse of Shiki's cock down there. Shiki's lips brushed the corner of Akira's, all wet and messy. A bit of saliva started dripping down Akira's lips. It was hard to kiss like this with his head turned to the side, and his moans came out like low whines with Shiki's tongue halfway in his mouth. Shiki's hot breaths ghosted over his tongue, blowing into his mouth.
Akira exhaled when he could finally pull away from the kiss. His chest loosened as the spurts thinned into a small trickle down the tip of his cock. Tiredly placing his forehead against the wall, he appreciated the cold touch that quickly cooled his head.
Saliva was leaking at the corner of his lips. Akira brought his hand up to his mouth and wiped it away with the back of his hand. He was still panting, his eyes cast down at the ground. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest and ears. Sweat matted his hair and flushed neck, sliding down his skin in droplets.
He hardly realized Shiki was done coming, only noticing that fact when Shiki was pulling out of him. Akira sighed out. He grimaced afterward at the mild discomfort of something warm dripping out of him.
Behind him, he heard Shiki zipping himself back up, though Akira's head and ears were too fuzzy with warmth to really take in the sound. He was still trying to catch his breath, forearms braced against the wall to keep himself steady. He hardly took notice of Shiki lowering into a crouch behind him, otherwise he would've been more prepared for what came next.
Shiki grabbed his thighs. Akira turned his head to look down at Shiki, confused.
Sticking his tongue out, Shiki caught the warm fluid that was dripping down Akira's thigh.
Akira's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, his stomach plummeting. "Idiot, what the hell are you—!"
Akira quickly turned to face the wall again, pressing his mouth to the back of his hand and muffling himself just in time as a strangled moan rose from his throat. Shiki was licking where his cock had just been in Akira. The moan Akira gave was long and unsteady, punctuated with sharp breaths as Shiki mouthed at him there without hesitation, his tongue pushing against Akira. Akira's eyes were wide in disbelief, but he squeezed them shut afterward, his whole body shaking and becoming tense.
Akira was panting into the back of his hand, his fingers curled tight into his palm. His legs were trembling so hard; he could barely hold himself upright, only Shiki's hands around his thighs holding him steady. He was growing light-headed again.
Shiki pulled Akira's thighs closer to him, burying his face there as he kissed and licked him, wetting him more with his mouth. Akira nearly groaned into his hand, his abdomen tightening. Shiki's tongue was sending tremors throughout his entire body with each lick. Akira felt himself twitching around Shiki's tongue, as if his body was trying to clench down on it and take it in. His face went hot.
Shiki's tongue was warm and soft, going in slow circles, but also thrusting gently against him. Akira's chest expanded and contracted with all the breaths he was taking. They had never done this before, but Shiki was casually mouthing at him as if he'd been doing this since the start of their hook-ups. The wet noises Shiki made with his mouth were anything but discreet, and the faint grunts he occasionally exhaled against Akira only made Akira shiver more.
Akira moaned as he felt Shiki lick up the cum that he was pushing out. Shiki was lapping at him greedily, like he wanted more from Akira's body.
Akira bit his lip as a warm ache settled in him. His cock was growing hard again even though he'd just come. He couldn't believe he was actually getting turned on by this… In public, no less.
Akira exhaled a shaky breath through his nose, his mouth still on his wrist as his other trembling hand reached down to touch himself. His palm grazed his cock, and Akira clenched his jaw, his face burning hotter than ever. He was still sensitive, but clearly hard. Akira started stroking himself, soon losing himself to the heat in his head. He didn't know why, but the thought of Shiki lowering himself to his knees for the sake of doing this to Akira was unbelievably arousing.
While he kept his strokes slow, Shiki's tongue picked up pace. His mouth made wet sounds against Akira's skin as he kissed and sucked. The sounds were obscene, but Akira only grew harder hearing them.
Akira pushed his hips back a little toward Shiki's face, his mind too hazy to care about how desperate that came off. He didn't even care about the possibility of getting caught anymore; all he wanted was to relieve the burning ache in his body.
Shiki grabbed him by the hips, burying his face more into Akira. Thrusting his tongue into Akira hard, he started full-on tongue-fucking him.
Akira's whole body tensed up so much that it was like he forgot how to breathe. His moans rose higher and higher in his throat and came out quicker—until his eyes lost focus and he couldn't see anything in his sight anymore.
Akira embarrassingly came for the second time that night, his hand barely even on his cock. In his mind, all he could think of was Shiki's name while he came. He remained still as heat spread throughout his body, cock spurting cum against the wall again. While not as intense as before, he felt every tremor rippling through his limbs that much more deeply because of how sensitive his body was. His hand gently pumped his pulsing cock. He coated himself in his own hot filth with every stroke, getting his hand all sticky.
Akira's voice lowered to a whisper as the twitches gradually came to a stop. The last of his warm seed dripped down his cock, landing on the ground. After what seemed like more than a few seconds, Akira lifted his mouth off his hand and took in a couple of deep breaths, his head still shrouded with heat.
The realization of what they'd done dawned on him not long after. Akira was at a complete loss for words, utterly mortified at himself. They'd just fucked in public, and Shiki had… done that. Yet Akira couldn't deny this was the hardest he'd ever come.
He exhaled in disbelief at himself.
…He was just as messed up as Shiki.
Shiki's lips lifted off him, and he let go of Akira's hips. "That should be good enough for you," he said, sounding smug behind Akira.
Akira glared at him. If he had the strength to speak, he would've thrown a retort at him, but he didn't, so he just gritted out a frustrated breath instead.
Shiki stood up, looking too graceful and nonchalant considering what he'd just done to Akira. He hardly looked like he'd even broken a sweat.
Annoyed, Akira turned his glare to the wall. He wiped his dirtied hand against his jeans, not caring if it left a stain. He could always clean it out later.
Pulling his pants up, he zipped himself back up and redid the buckle of his belt. Then he closed the zipper of his jacket. His body was still warm, but that would probably change in a few minutes as his body temperature regulated itself.
Akira stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed Shiki back to the motorcycle. No words were exchanged between them as they mounted the bike. Akira put on his helmet and grabbed the plastic bag that contained his bento.
This time, without being prompted to, Akira put his arms around Shiki, leaning into his back. Shiki turned on the bike's ignition and started the engine.
Then they were driving off on the road as though they'd never stopped in the first place.
✝
♱
By the time they'd gotten home, Akira's hunger had started to settle in. While Shiki was parking the motorcycle and chaining it down, Akira was heading up the stairs of their apartment building.
His sneakers echoed dully on the concrete steps. Their apartment was on the second floor, so it was a short walk up, but their door was all the way at the end on the left side. When Akira reached it, he unlocked the door and headed inside first, leaving it partly open for Shiki.
Akira took off his shoes at the entrance and turned on his lights. Heading down the hallway, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands, though it certainly didn't help much in ridding him of the diritness he felt from what he and Shiki had done earlier.
He went into the living room next and flicked the light there on, and was greeted with the familiar sight of a kotatsu in the center of the room. Akira sat down and turned on the electric heater so the kotatsu would start warming up. Then he took out the bento from the bag and placed it on the kotatsu, getting a good look at what his meal was for tonight. There was some rice, grilled fish, vegetables, rolled omelet, chicken, and some fried shrimp, all portioned into different-sized compartments within the container to create the look of a balanced meal. The food didn't look all that fresh and appetizing, but all that really mattered to Akira was filling his stomach.
Akira tore open the thin paper wrapping that encased the cheap pair of wooden chopsticks. Behind him, he heard Shiki entering the apartment and closing the front door down the hallway. Shiki came up behind him a few seconds later.
"You've been eating only frozen food lately," Shiki commented.
Akira shrugged. "It's free from the convenience store." The chopsticks snapped as Akira broke them apart.
"…Hopeless," he heard Shiki mutter under his breath.
Akira thought about saying something for a moment, but then decided not to. It was his dinner regardless so he didn't know why Shiki was being such an ass about it; it wasn't like Shiki was going to be the one eating it. He prepared to lift off the plastic cover of the bento, but Shiki reached down and grabbed his wrist before he could.
"Hurry and get yourself cleaned up," Shiki said.
Akira’s first instinct was to reply that he didn’t take orders from Shiki. But he couldn’t exactly say that when Shiki was letting him live free of charge here, meaning Shiki had every right to kick him out if Akira didn’t follow his demands. Akira decided to stare up at Shiki instead with an indignant frown pulling at his face.
"I'm letting you use the bathroom first," Shiki stated, almost like it was a clarification. "Go before I change my mind."
Akira exhaled, keeping his eyes locked on Shiki, though the tension in his face slipped away. "You could've just said that from the start."
"Hmph."
Akira pulled his arm out of Shiki's grip with more force than necessary and got to his feet, leaving the bento unopened. He wasn't so hungry that it would bother him to wait a bit longer to eat. He said nothing as he left the living room and headed to the bedroom where his clothes were stored. Technically it was Shiki's bedroom, but of course ever since Akira had moved in with him, it had become a shared accomodation between them. He grabbed a set of clothes from his drawer before heading to the bathroom.
Once inside, Akira looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was all mussed up from the wind. He looked away and started undressing himself.
It was probably a good idea that he was washing himself before eating, Akira realized as he noticed just how unclean he actually felt now that he was taking his clothes off. He hung his jacket on a door hanger. His shirt came off over his head next. Then he was pulling off the rest of his clothes and leaving them in the laundry basket on the floor.
In the shower, he turned on the hot water. Steam filled the room, eventually fogging up the glass panel beside him. After scrubbing himself clean with soap and rinsing it all off, Akira turned off the water and got out.
He put on his clothes, feeling considerably better than before. Grabbing his jacket from the hanger and opening the door, he was caught off guard when he found himself coming face-to-face with Shiki, and he almost took a step back. Akira steeled his expression before his surprise could fully show.
"You sure took your time," Shiki said, sounding displeased. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning against the wall. In the time Akira had spent taking a shower, he'd changed out of his riding suit and into his usual black turtleneck and pants.
"If that's all you have to say, then leave me alone," Akira said. Moving out of the way, he walked past Shiki.
Shiki grabbed his wrist before he could take a step further though. In the next second, Shiki was pulling Akira in the direction of the living room.
"Oi," Akira said rather fiercely, annoyed at Shiki's behavior. It wasn't uncommon for Shiki to manhandle him like this, but that didn't mean he had to get used to it. Akira furrowed his brows at him. "What're you…" he trailed off as they both entered the living room.
On the kotatsu, the bento had been replaced by a plate of omurice. Akira blinked at it before turning his gaze toward Shiki. Shiki's eyes conveyed nothing though.
"This…" Akira started. He gave Shiki a wary look.
Shiki remained silent, his red eyes boring into Akira. Neither of them moved, and the tension grew.
Finally, Shiki let out the quietest sigh of annoyance after a few more seconds had passed.
"How long do you plan on standing around like an idiot for?" he questioned. "Hurry up and eat."
Akira looked down at the omurice, suddenly aware of how awkward this was. Standing around certainly wasn't going to help him in this situation like Shiki had said. Lowering himself to the floor, he took a seated position and scooted closer to the kotatsu, letting the blanket cover his lap. It was all warm and heated up now.
An aromatic smell wafted in the air in front of him. Akira swallowed, the empty ache in his throat becoming more pronounced. He picked up the spoon and dug it into the outer edge of the omurice.
Scooping up a spoonful of omurice, he noticed it was still steaming. Akira lifted the spoon near his mouth and blew on it a little. The whole time, he felt the burn of Shiki's eyes on him, observing his every move. It was unnerving.
Akira slipped the spoon into his mouth, resolving not to look at Shiki while he ate, instead keeping his gaze down at the plate of omurice.
As he chewed, the taste of chicken fried rice along with the sweet, tangy flavor of ketchup spread in his mouth. That, topped with the light and fluffy omelet soaked in the demi-glace sauce, was a heavenly combination for his palate. The rice was warm and soft in his mouth; perfectly cooked, and Akira chewed more times than necessary, wanting to savor the bite. When he swallowed, his throat was warmed up by the food passing through, and the sensation immediately put him at ease.
Akira exhaled through his warmed throat and cast a glance up at Shiki, finally letting himself look at him. "…Thanks," he murmured.
Shiki brushed off Akira's expression of gratitude with his usual "hmph", acting as though accepting Akira's words would cause a contagious disease to spread onto him. Either that or cause him to spontaneously combust.
"Wash the plate when you're done," Shiki said bluntly, turning his back to him. He left after that, closing the door on Akira.
Akira resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead scooped up another spoonful of omurice. He felt his appetite being sated with every bite, and he savored the flavors in his mouth as he ate. Now that Shiki wasn't there to make things awkward and watch him eat, he was chewing and swallowing more eagerly.
The omurice was finished all too soon, though, and what was left at the end was just the demi-glace on the plate. Akira let out a content sigh, his body feeling warm and full from eating the omurice. He got up and walked to the kitchen with the plate in his hand, heading toward the sink.
He washed the plate in the sink and then wiped his hands with a towel. Glancing at the digital clock, it indicated that it was almost midnight. While that warm meal had rejuvenated him, he certainly still had a build-up of fatigue from the classes he'd attended today and then his job at the convenience store.
Akira left the kitchen and turned off the kotatsu's electric heater before heading in the direction of the bedroom. As he passed by the bathroom in the hallway, he could hear the drizzling sound of the shower water.
He entered the bedroom and headed toward the bed. Akira flopped on it, immediately burying himself under the covers a second later. It was a little earlier than the time he usually slept, not that he really had a fixed sleep schedule or anything, but he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything like this until he got some sleep. Luckily it was Saturday tomorrow—his day off—and Akira planned on catching up on the sleep that he hadn't gotten the past few days.
He closed his eyes, lying on his side and falling asleep faster than he knew it.
✝
♱
Akira didn't get nearly as much sleep as he'd hoped, as he was awfully groggy when he woke up the next morning. He cracked his eyes open, his eyelids feeling thick and heavy, and it took a few seconds for his vision to focus. Light filtered into the room through the windows, though its intensity was softened by the dark curtains, so the room remained relatively dim. There was a beam of sunlight that peeked through where the curtain didn't fully cover the edge of the window though.
Akira moved to get up and fix it. Something stopped him from getting up, though. He froze.
Someone's arms were around him, keeping him in place. It took him more than a few seconds to realize they were Shiki's. Akira looked behind him, nearly recoiling at the small sound his shuffling made. He stilled immediately, holding in his breath while he looked down at Shiki.
Shiki didn't stir at all, still asleep. After a few seconds, Akira let out his breath as quietly as he could, blinking slowly.
He stared at Shiki's sleeping face. It was oddly serene. Like this, he could see how Shiki had gotten a job as a model… sort of. Akira didn't know the full story, but Shiki had mentioned offhandedly once something about his brother being into photography. His brother would often take pictures of him and post them online, and that was how Shiki had started receiving job offers from modeling agencies. Akira figured the pay must've been good since Shiki had chosen to pursue this career. And clearly it was, if Shiki could afford to pay the rent and bills even with Akira here.
Realizing he'd been staring at Shiki's face for a tad too long, Akira promptly looked away. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, though it was to find something to distract himself with more so than out of an actual urge to check it.
The time told him it was still too early in the morning to get up. After mulling over it a bit, Akira cast another glance at Shiki behind him. Then he exhaled quietly and lowered his head back to the pillow, putting his phone away.
…He didn't really have anywhere to be today anyway.
Shiki's breathing was so quiet that were it not for his arms around Akira, Akira wouldn't have even thought he was there. Akira lay there awake, his heart beating steadily against his ribcage for a few minutes before quieting down in his chest.
It took a while but… he was eventually able to fall back asleep.