Work Text:
You can’t quite bring yourself to exit the car just yet. Hands shaking on the steering wheel, you grip it tight, tight enough to break the skin if you really wanted to bleed.
It’s cloudy, sky casting a gloomy bluish filter across the city. The perfect weather for the day you’ve been dreading for months.
You’ve put off gathering the last of your things from Aki’s place for far too long. You’ve run out of excuses, pulling from what you thought was an endless pile of them any time he asked, and it’s gotten gradually more painful to talk to him. Every conversation is arduous, like extracting a tooth from the root with no sedatives.
You miss him. Undeniably so.
No matter how hard you’ve worked to move on, he’ll forever be a part of you – the world you’d built together may have crumbled, but the ruins remain; the good memories survive despite your effort to bury them deep.
But you could never forget Aki. You’re kidding yourself if you think that it’s even a possibility for you.
You see him every day – in the cigarette cartons behind the register at your favorite convenience store. In the homemade curry you cook from scratch to comfort you on the coldest days. In the cleaning habits you’ve formed, smoothing the wrinkles from the freshly washed sheets that you make your bed (every morning) with. In the way you watch films, in the way you listen to music, in the way you enjoy a cup of coffee.
He’s rubbed off on you, too.
You hold your cards closer to your chest, now. You value your privacy a lot more. You celebrate achievements quietly, humbly. Your work ethic is different, too.
All because of Aki.
Maybe you’ve changed for the better, you’re not sure; regardless, that neither changes nor mends a broken heart.
For all the days of smooth sailing, there were just as many days of rough waters waiting ahead.
“I’ll be home soon,” Aki promises, one of many that he doesn’t mean to break.
It’s a statement, but he’s pleading it. An underlying question: “Will you wait for me?”
You do, like you always have, a hearty dinner waiting for him after what you can already tell is a particularly taxing day – you know this because every day is the same.
It’s always like this. Infinite overtime, gluttonous expectations, a crushingly depressing career outlook. “Clocking out” is a meaningless phrase, because when you’re a devil hunter, you never really do.
Dinner gets cold. You prepare for the worst.
The sun sinks behind the neighboring buildings. From late afternoon to dusk. Dusk to evening.
The phone doesn’t ring, no matter how hard you will someone – anyone – to call.
What were Aki’s last words? “I’ll be home soon”? Did he say “goodbye”? Did he tell you he loved you?
Did you tell him you loved him this morning? Can you remember his smile? Or the last kiss you shared before he darted out of the door?
You don’t know how much time has passed when Aki finally shows. You haven’t done much more than stare at the front door.
He’s disheveled, exhausted, eyes wild with an apology that hadn’t quite met his lips.
That’s when it clicks for you.
The lens you see your relationship with Aki fades from the rose hue it’d been for god knows how long, and now you’re only able to see it for what it was. You were always going to come second to his job, even if he was 100% committed to making it work.
It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your heart working faster than your mind.
“I can’t be a bystander in your own suicide mission, Aki.”
The words hit, like a blow to the chest, and it only gets worse from there.
You have a lengthy discussion about your relationship, but nothing is really resolved. It ends with you packing a bag, but before you can leave, he convinces you to stay. Just for the night. You take the bed, he takes the couch – at his insistence.
He’s gone for work before you wake, an apology letter tucked into the zipper of your bag. (You still haven’t read it. You can’t bring yourself to.)
You haven’t come back since.
A part of you was happy that you’d never gotten around to moving in with him because it’d make this a hell of a lot harder. Although, with the sudden absence of your weekend getaways, you’ve spent more time mourning the breakup than healing from it.
Nostalgia tugs you from your car and towards the stairs. You plod upward towards his apartment that overlooks the city, your favorite view of it.
You’re on autopilot as you walk down the familiar hall, thinking back on the casual friendships you’d made with Aki’s neighbors and coworkers. How you recognized that they were forged in passing, and now you’d probably never amount to more than a blip on their memory. You were so naive to think that transience didn’t – could never – apply to you.
A split second after you rap your knuckles against the wood door, it flies open, a breathless Aki waiting for you on the other side.
“Hi,” he says, gaze focused, flitting back and forth across your face, your body – like he’s recommitting you to memory.
You know, because you’re doing it, too.
His hair is longer, nearly grazing his shoulders now. There’s a new scar on his cheek – still pink, not as faded as the pale marks decorating the rest of his body.
Not much has changed. He’s still the same old Aki you fell in love with.
“Hey,” you breathe, already fidgeting. The urge to bolt buzzes throughout your body, but your fingers practically itch with the need to reach out and touch him. Both sensations neutralize each other, so instead, you do nothing.
“Do you… wanna…” he trails off, letting the rest of the question hang in the thick air between you.
He steps back to let you in, and you wordlessly pass through the frame – homesickness hits you like a wave of nausea. You try not to show it on your face, but Aki watches you from his peripheral, clearing his throat to relieve some of the tension.
“Would you like something to drink?” He’s just being polite, as always.
“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, smiling weakly. You’re not sure your unsettled stomach could handle anything right now.
“Then… I’ll, uh, be in here if you need me.” Aki nods to the kitchen, where he’s prepping food and washing dishes.
(It’s just like him to spend his day off doing chores.)
And with a knowing look, you’re both off on your own. You wade through the viscous tension towards the place you’re dreading most of all.
The bedroom is just like you left it: pristine, wrinkle-free, devoid of personality.
His place has always mimicked website photos of a university dormitory, severely lacking in character, functionality the only goal. You’ve never quite cracked why he doesn’t decorate, why there aren’t pieces of himself woven into the interior of his home.
There’s a few items on the bed, folded and neatly stacked – the last of your things barely take up the length of a pillow.
Torn photo strips from a boardwalk booth you’d visited once (torn so you could share the best takes), hair ties that are too frilly to be his. A tube of citrus scented (and flavored) lip gloss that he’s kissed off of your lips a dozen times before, that he’s licked off of his own when you part. Your favorite oversized tee you slept in every time you came over – one you’d stolen from him, that you’d insisted he wear for a while before you took it for yourself. You take a deep whiff and a lump forms in your throat – it still smells like him.
A worn pair of slippers that were a gift from him, a (surprisingly untangled) pair of headphones you’d borrowed from him a million times, his key to your home, your favorite cassette – a mixtape he’d made for you.
All of these items are ones that prick you just deep enough in your unhealed sore spots to make you flinch. Theoretically, you could just throw all of these in a metal trash bin and light it on fire, wiping your hands of the whole thing.
But the sentimentality holds you back, restraining any irrational decision you might make.
Is this all a manipulation tactic? A ploy to get you back? Or are you thinking the worst of him because of how much this hurts?
You shove away the thought and pick up the functional items first. Hair ties, lip gloss, slippers, headphones, key.
But… the hair ties are the same color as his eyes. The slippers were a sweet “You needed it, so I bought them” surprise that led to a dozen kisses, which led to even more. The headphones are a white flag in a sense – he’s finally revoking ownership. The lip gloss reminds you of his lips, the taste and feel of him.
And the key makes this even more real.
It falls through your trembling fingers, the metal clattering loudly against the wood flooring. You hear a scuffle of feet and sense him in the doorway before you see him.
Aki’s arm is braced against the frame, brows furrowed in concern, lips parted – a question on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m okay,” you say, but your voice wavers.
He raises to his full height, appraising you with curious eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He completely ignores what you’ve claimed, because he knows you better than you care to admit.
“Nothing.”
A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You never were a good liar.”
A beat passes before you tell him the truth. “I can’t take any of these things with me.”
He’s quiet when he asks, “Why not?”
The knot in your throat is tightening, firmly at the center of your neck – no amount of swallowing will get rid of it. Tears burn your vision. Your whole upper body is on fire. Your resolve is crumbling, because you know that one hug from Aki could fix all of your problems but you can’t –
“I’m sorry,” Aki murmurs apologetically, jaw flexing in annoyance at himself. “I wasn’t right to pry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
You clasp your hands together as tightly as you physically can, ignoring the pain. It’s all you can do to keep from reaching out to touch him.
“Everything –” You tip your chin at the pile. “– reminds me of you.”
Aki blinks, once, twice, a third time while he processes what you’ve just said.
Does he not see you – everywhere, in everything – like you see him?
“At first, I thought maybe you deliberately put these out to antagonize me, but you’re just… so damn sweet, Aki. You could never.”
You can’t bear to look at him. Your gaze is trained on the house key at your feet, but you make no move to pick it up.
His stare is intense, heavy, pinning you under it – you don’t move. You can’t.
“If they cause you pain, please don’t take them. I can get rid of anything you don’t want.”
It’s clear that he’s trying desperately to remain neutral. A part of you was hoping his composure would crack, but it’s still intact.
“They don’t cause me pain, Aki,” you whisper, clutching your hands into fists. “They’re good memories. That’s the problem. If I remember you fondly, then I’ll never be able to move on.”
He’s lost for words, much like when you told him you were done. The combination of his thunderstruck expression and your revelation sucks the air out of the room, and it feels like you’re suffocating.
He steps back, out of the doorframe, and you think he’s going to bolt, but he stays put.
“I – didn’t mean –” He stutters, bringing a rough hand to tangle in his hair.
“I know.”
“I wasn’t trying to –”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
You smile weakly and wave a hand. “It’s fine.”
He takes two steps, now inside of the doorway, tall frame filling up the exit, but he looks so small.
“Do you think it would’ve been better to throw them away?” He asks, voice low, unsure.
You shrug. “We’d still remember.”
At least, you would. You couldn’t forget Aki even if you wanted to.
“So… how’s work?” You ask, an abrupt (but needed) subject change.
“Work is…” His voice fades, and you know it’s gotten worse.
“More demanding?”
“We’re short-staffed, so yes –” He winces, sensing his mistake almost as soon as it’s left his mouth. He’s always been honest to a fault.
There’s no doubt he’s remembering how the last time you discussed this topic, it nearly devolved into an argument – and how upset you were when you found out just how much was really being asked of him.
“So they’re still overworking you. That’s why you look so tired,” you chuckle humorlessly.
“I haven’t been sleeping.”
“And you’re going to work that way?”
“I’ll survive.”
You grit your teeth, finally staring at him dead-on. “Will you?”
Uneasiness clouds his expression, your confrontation waging a losing battle.
“I don’t think any answer of mine will satisfy you,” he sighs.
And he’s right. No matter what he says, how willing he is to put himself in harm’s way, there should be safety precautions in place for even the most reckless employees.
“I worry about you, that’s all.”
Aki doesn’t say anything, but steps over to the other side of the bed, glancing down at the pile. He leans down and runs the pads of his fingers across the faux fur lining of the slippers.
Even more painful questions you aren’t sure you want to know the answer to swirl around your mind.
How long has he had this pile? Does he hide it away? If he keeps it out where he can see, are they meaningful to him, too?
What does he remember? What does he choose to forget?
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
You’re caught off guard by that, annoyance bubbling over the edge.
“As long as you’re a devil hunter, I’m going to be worried for you,” you say, bluntly.
“I know what I signed up for –”
“‘I know what I signed up for when I joined,’ yes, I’ve heard it before, Aki. I don’t need rehearsed answers.” Your tone is increasingly irritated, dripping from every word.
Aki’s face scrunches in distaste.
“Do you know how many times this past month alone I’ve wondered if I’ll have to find out about your death over the news?”
You don’t wait for an answer.
“Every fucking day.”
Speechless again, Aki keeps his mouth shut.
Your palms sweat, your heart races, your jaw sets, but you don’t back down. You may never see Aki again after this, and by god, you’re going to try to get through to him before you go. If you can’t save him, at least you can say you put up a fight.
“Public Safety my ass, Aki – who’s protecting you? Who ? Because it’s not them,” you start, delivery clipped. “They don’t care about you. In their eyes, you’re expendable –”
“It’s complicated –”
“It’s not complicated, it’s either you stay there and die or you resign and live ,” you plead, taking a half step towards him. “Please, don’t make this harder than it is.”
“I can’t – it’s… complicated,” Aki says again and looks away.
“You have more reasons to walk away than stay, Aki.”
His eyes flash up to yours. “I don’t know if I believe that to be true.”
The storm in his eyes is something you’d describe as the midpoint between torment and despair.
You never thought leaving would push Aki farther into work. At the very least, you hoped he’d leave and find happiness – even if it wasn’t with you at his side. You wanted him to enjoy his life, not value it so little that he’d throw himself in harm's way at any opportunity.
You never wanted to leave him in the first place. Aki is everything you’d ever wanted, wrapped up in a handsome package with a big bow on top (in the form of a stiff ponytail).
You don’t have a trump card, but you do have your heart, and you’re wearing it on your sleeve.
You make a move, swiftly closing the gap. He watches your every move as you lean in and –
You kiss.
You collide and retract like gentle waves on a seashore, pulling back every few seconds to check if this – whatever it is – is okay. The taste of him is familiar and comforting and delicious. His kisses are lax but controlled in the movement, his composure on the brink of collapse but he’s Aki, so of course he grips the wheel to avoid crashing.
The waves pull back, and so do you, tipping your chin back to measure his approval. His expression reveals nothing, but his eyes tell a different story. Drunk on you with a hint of reluctance that you struggle to translate.
“Are you kissing me because you want to?” You ask before you can think twice. “Or because you’re just being polite?”
It’s like the last thread of his willpower snaps, and he’s surging you like high tide.
The waters are dangerous and you’re all but drowning in him but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He’s everywhere – you’re submerged in him, every inch of you consumed by Aki.
You’ve been avoiding this day for months, yes, and it’s because you knew this was a possibility. Folding as soon as he looks at you with his breathtaking eyes and says your name – his pretty mouth forms around it, whispering it like a prayer to any god that’ll listen.
You suck his bottom lip roughly and he moans, rumbling up through his chest, the sound spilling into your own parted mouth.
You run a hand down his chest, stomach, hips. He pants heavily as you do so, stomach stuttering with every movement. You’ve missed his lips, his tongue, his lewd moans, his silky smooth cock – when you slip your fingers into the fabric at his hips, past the elastic of his boxers, he’s groaning and bucking in anticipation.
“God… baby…” His voice is hoarse with lust, crackly with a bit of bass to it that makes your thighs clench.
The crook of his hands slots against your hips, fingertips playing with your waistband. The pads of his fingers graze your bare skin and you’re trying to hold his gaze, but the underlying intensity has you faltering.
You retract your hand, much to his distaste. You lick a long, firm stripe up your palm and finally wrap your hands around his shaft.
Dilated pupils disappear behind fluttering lids, and you know he’s a goner. Slow strokes elicit garbled praises from Aki, has him clutching your sides with a firm grip.
When you swirl your wrist around the tip, precum coating his head, he leans into you, posture crumbling. He folds, his temple pressed against your head while he pants into your ear.
“ Shit – oh my god – you’re so good –”
It’s not long before he’s humping up into your curled palm, arms slung around your waist as he squeezes you closer. He’s putty in your hands. You missed this.
“I’m about to –” You cut him off with a kiss, hooking your arms around his neck. His toned body lines up with yours like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place. You missed this .
He’s rock hard against you, but his calloused hands are soft where they slide up to cup your face. You missed this most of all .
Being held so gently by the man so secretive that those close to him seldom know what he’s thinking. Being held so lovingly by the man driven by the bitter taste of revenge that forever lingers on his tongue. Being kissed so sweetly by the man who’s lost so much – but still has that much more left to give.
You thought he’d be used up long ago (he couldn’t possibly have more left to give, you were convinced), but Aki’s love is boundless. It’s his ambitions that trap him in a space just out of your reach.
With an unceremonious brush of his arm, the bed is cleared, all of your belongings joining the house key on the floor, clattering rhythmically against the wood.
He seats himself on the edge of the bed and you straddle him, knees squeezing his narrow hips tight.
A part of you wants to stop this before you go too far, but with the way Aki is looking at you, you know there’s no going back. The damage is already done.
Instead of doing the rational thing, you indulge in your fantasy, giving into the temptation that’s taunted you since you walked out.
Aki’s gaze is heavy-lidded, lustful, lips swollen as they struggle to form words. He seems completely dumbfounded that this is really happening, as are you.
His hands snake back up to your waist and he unbuttons your bottoms with trembling fingers.
“Aki?” You whisper. “Are you okay?”
Are you okay with this? With having sex after being apart for so long? Are you okay not knowing if anything will come of this? If sleeping together will do more harm than good?
Your tight jaw barricades your questions behind your gritted teeth, lips pinched tight, your curiosity staved off by nervousness. You don’t want to know the answer to any of them.
“I’m okay – I –” he blinks himself out of his daze, running a rough hand through his hair.
“Is this really happening?”
“Yes, it really is.”
His thin brows pull together, creases forming in the space between. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks now, so I’m not fully convinced I’m awake.”
You lean in, tugging the loose hem of his oversized shirt up and over his head, before weighing down on him till he falls back onto his back, half-naked and breathless underneath you.
“What can I do to convince you?”
Diluted light from the sunless sky casts a cool glow throughout the bedroom. His hair fans around him, a raven hue that reflects navy in the right lighting.
His bare chest heaves as he watches you above him, gaze flitting across every inch of you, recommitting you to memory the same way he did when you knocked on the door, only hungrier this time.
“Can I taste you?” Aki asks, almost shyly, if it weren’t for the husky tone he takes.
You nod. In a frenzy, he’s flipped you on your back, tugged your bottoms all the way off – leaving only your intimates, a plain cotton pair ill-suited for the occasion. Aki never cared about the presentation of the gift, just its contents. You could be wearing a burlap sack and he’d still find you as fuckable as if you were in lingerie. He adores you that much.
A sigh escapes him, airy and bordering on a moan. He runs his palms up from your ankles, kissing inside your shin, your knee, the plush skin of your thigh.
He hooks a finger into the crotch and pulls it aside, humming contentedly at the sight of you.
“Beautiful.”
The wet spot on your underwear is fresh, a product of the sloppy kisses you’ve shared. He doesn’t have to try that hard to make you wet, but this is ridiculous – you’re so deprived of his touch that kissing has you prepped and ready to fuck.
You’re fisting the fabric of your shirt in anticipation when he finally closes the gap, licking a long taut stripe up your cunt. Biting back a groan, you grip the sheets to get it out somehow.
He does it again, this time pursing his lips to suck your clit into his mouth, before lapping at you at a relentless pace. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut, but you force them open so you can watch the perfect view in front of you – Aki between your thighs, licking, tasting, teasing you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse under your breath, tangling your fingers into the hair at his crown, training the strokes of his tongue to the speed you want.
Your hips roll to meet each lick, steadying your feet on the bed to angle yourself just right – fuck, he’s so good at this. He’s always been a little timid during foreplay, but when Aki gets going, he gets going . Your praises goad his confidence, and he’s not afraid to admit that he loves hearing you communicate just how good he is.
When Aki slips a finger in, you let him know.
“Just like that – oh my god – Aki, please, I’m so close –”
You’re folding into yourself, but he stops abruptly, gazing at you over your stomach.
“I want to see you – like that , yeah, that’s perfect ,” he coos as you lift to your elbows. “Can you touch your tits for me? If you want, that is –”
You grip your shirt underneath your chin, tugging your bra up till your tits spill out. He rolls his lips together and sighs deeply, rewarding you by going back to work. You palm your tits, pinching your nipples as he watches, imagining that your hands were his own. That thought alone pushes you closer to the edge.
You’re writhing under his grip, squirming away from his relentless mouth and curled fingers, but he anchors you with a forearm, so all you can do is take it. You take it and take it and take it until the pressure builds and shatters into a million pieces, the orgasm billowing through you like a strong electric current.
When he pulls back, his lips glisten in the light, glossy and swollen because of you.
“C’mere,” you pant, tugging him onto the duvet alongside you.
You kiss him again, tasting both yourself and all the praises he couldn’t sing while between your legs.
“Do you want me to – suck you off –” you manage when you come up for air, watching his face for a reaction.
He hesitates, obviously up for either – fucking your mouth or your cunt – he’s not picky. He’s just delighted to have you back in his arms.
“I don’t mind. Whatever you want, love.”
It’s just like Aki to be painfully hard but still put you first.
“It gives me an excuse to tease you, so get those pants off,” you grin, sitting up to strip your top and bra the rest of the way off while he shifts into a sitting position, watching you intently.
In a swift move, his sweatpants are in a bunch at his ankles. You slip them off, tossing them onto the ground alongside the other discarded items. You take a moment to drink him in, internalizing every detail – new and old – so that you never forget this.
It’s not long before you yearn for the feeling of his soft skin beneath your hands. He parts his long legs even farther for you to slip between. When you take him in your mouth, he’s already bucking into you, moans spilling out of him like a string of apologies for ever letting you go.
Hollowed cheeks and a twisting motion have him slack-jawed around your name, the way he’s saying it encouraging you to keep on. You lick up his silky shaft, bob back down with tight lips – wrap your hand around him and pump him slowly with a thick coat of saliva.
You watch as his lean stomach muscles flex and roll as he juts his hips to meet your movements. His face is twisted in concentration – cumming or trying not to, you can’t tell.
You could keep on like that forever, bringing him pleasure from between his brawny thighs, but he stops you before he spills into your mouth.
“Please, I need you now,” Aki says in a throaty tone, pupils blown, a sheen of sweat glinting on his pale skin.
He grabs a condom from the top drawer of his dresser, tearing into the foil package with his teeth. You lay back against the bed as he rolls it on, stroking himself a few times before leaning over you.
Aki’s face is twisted, mouth downturned indecisively but the look in his eyes is contradicting. He wants all of you, but his confidence is wavering at every turn.
He knows this is real, this is happening, but you know Aki – he’s wondering if he deserves this. Deserves to have you back in his bed, at his mercy, apologies unspoken but forgiveness earned through physical devotion.
He thinks he’s not enough, but that’s never been the case – Aki has always been enough for you. Stepping away was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, but essential to your livelihood. Regardless of how much you love him, you want all of him, the way you’ve given yourself to him. He’s held back for so long, but… now, you’re sure that his zealousness is focused on you, only you .
For so long, Aki burned the candle from both ends, the flames licking his skin raw, but he held on tightly, willing a balance that was never a possibility.
Revenge doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling of your love, and he knows this. He’s felt it. He’s lost it. He wants it back.
You throw him a lifeline, unable to watch him bob helplessly in the choppy waters.
“I want this, Aki. I love you – I always have,” you murmur, hooking your ankles around the small of his back.
You swear you see his lips tremble, but they crash into yours before you can really be sure. His skin is warm against yours as he presses his weight into you – you whine when you feel his tip tease you open, spreading your hips further as he rubs himself against your clit.
His hair curtains around you, midnight blanketing your vision. He sinks into you, agonizingly slow, reveling in the stretch of you around him. Your whines are harmonious, breathing in sync, ragged and laborious as he bottoms out inside of you, every inch of his cock disappearing inside of you.
For a moment, time stills, and it’s like you never left.
Nose to nose, you moan into each other, Aki’s hip rolling into yours with gentle precision you recognize as his go-to method. He’s everywhere – the smell of him, earthy and clean, envelops you. The look of him, pink-cheeked and lust-driven as he slides in and out. The feel of him – athletic arms bracketing you in, lengthy shaft driving you mad. The taste of him… familiar and intoxicating, like home – like your perfect brand of poison.
This intimacy brings you back to when you first met, when you first fucked Aki, when you confessed your feelings after a picturesque date. Being in love with Aki never faded, but you tried desperately to block it out – now it’s flooding back with a vengeance, while he’s deep inside of you.
Aki curls an arm underneath your back, tilting you up for a new angle that’s so delicious, you’re wholly engulfed by him. Your senses scream his name: Aki, Aki, Aki.
You’ve never wanted anything more than to be thoroughly fucked like this, you’re convinced. Fuck your hopes and dreams, all you need is Aki.
Your legs hold him in a vice grip, hips bucking in time with his own – God, even if you spent the rest of your life chasing this, you’d never have it this good again.
He rolls over, pulling you on top of him, his crook of his hands slotting around where your thighs meet your hips. He trains you down, lifting and dropping you at the pace he likes, building speed as quick as you can handle it.
“Fuck – yes – like – that –” you manage between sharp breaths, your palms flat against his chest to fuck him back.
“So beautiful,” he garbles out, watching you with signature adoration reserved only for you. “Shit – I love you –”
He says it back, and time stills for that much longer.
You need him closer, so you fall forward, chest to chest, kissing every inch of Aki’s skin your mouth can reach. Collarbones, neck, jaw, cheek, and finally, lips.
You sing your praises into his ear, and he does the same, vocalizing love and pleasure all at once. You returned to get your things, but you’re leaving more whole than when you arrived.
You come undone together, his cock twitching inside of you as you feel your own walls pulse around him. He fucks into you with gradually lazing strokes, flipping you over on your side as you both float back to Earth – but not before teasing you to climax one more time.
The pads of his fingers flick your clit with nimble strokes, free hand holding your thigh up so your legs are parted for him. He watches your expressions, watches every little thing his hand does to your body. You melt when you come, teleported to another realm as he talks you through it.
You crash back against the bed, not quite curling up against his side yet.
The room is coated in an almost dreamlike haze from your sex, thick and indistinct. Bleariness tinges your vision after being completely spent, but you try to make conversation anyway.
“How come you don’t decorate in here?”
“It’s hard to explain,” he says, chuckling when you make a face. “It actually is complicated, I promise.”
“I’ve never felt like any place is my home. It’s not much more than somewhere for me to lay my head. But now…” Aki trails off, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Without you in it, it’s not much of one. So I’ve given up on decorating.”
“Me?”
He shrugs. “You brighten up the room.”
Now, you cuddle up to his side, physically unable to stay away from him.
Curling up against his side, you slot against him and all of your favorite memories flood back. Ritual cat naps on your lunch breaks. Reading in bed with the window cracked, the song of the city your background noise. Sleepy morning kisses, late night makeouts with the buzz of alcohol in your veins.
“Did you really mean what you said?” He asks softly.
“Aki… Of course I love you. Every day I’m scared that I’ll lose you, and I will have missed out on my last chance to say it.”
He exhales, and it’s like a weight is lifted. He relaxes, his face softens – like every worry dissolved with those three words.
“I love you, too,” Aki says gently, but resoundingly, a finality to it.
I love you – Your absence is an ache I can’t soothe.
I love you – You’re mine, I’m yours, and nothing is an obstacle when you’ve reached such great heights.
I love you – And I’ll say it again, and again, and again.