Work Text:
"Hey, kid, when's yer birthday?"
It seemed like an odd question for Swansea to ask at the time, or at least a question Daisuke had assumed he'd be the one to ask first, somewhere in between "Have you ever tried to lick your own elbow?" and "What do you think happens when you swallow a spider?" They'd been holed up in Utility for the better part of the morning, Swansea swearing like a sailor over the food dispenser's fried circuit board, while Daisuke kept himself occupied by memorizing some of the Tulpar's more essential components (and counting how long he could spin atop his stool before his stomach tried to exit his body through his esophagus—five minutes, a new personal best). "Huh?" He spun faster, rapidly approaching six. "What's that?"
Sparks crackled from the workbench at the opposite wall, a quick curse muttered under Swansea's breath. "The day you came kickin' and screamin' into this world. Before you ended up kickin' and screamin' at my last goddamn nerve."
The stool jerked to an abrupt halt when Daisuke dug his heel into the floor. "Oh, um. August?" His eyeballs wobbled precariously in their sockets. "Yeah, it's August. The fourth." He grinned at Swansea's back, still hunched over the other workbench. "My mom said it should've been the eighth, but I was too eager to get out. Almost like I knew it was bikini season."
Swansea swiveled on his stool just enough to shoot an eyeful of daggers at him. "Ain't you got some studyin' to do?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Clearing his throat, Daisuke began, in a singsong voice: "The foam pipe's connected to the flow valve, the flow valve's connected to the—"
"Alright, that's enough." With an all-too familiar grumble, Swansea turned back to his work. "Feels like my kid's preschool play all over again."
Daisuke's, too, though his nursery rhymes had come with the pleasure of being strapped into a tree costume while the rest of the class plucked construction-paper apples from his cardboard branches. "What's yours, Swansea?" He beamed, rotating in half-circles. "Oh! I bet you're totally an Aries!"
Swansea grunted.
"Scorpio?"
Louder that time.
"Gemini?"
He slammed his soldering iron down with such force, Daisuke half-expected one or both of them to end up in Medical before they even broke for lunch. "Look, I didn't agree to take some idiot kid under my wing just so I could get free tarot card readings."
Agree was quite the way to reframe "I'd rather dip my dick in hot coffee than babysit Pony Express's sorry excuse for a charity case." Though Daisuke liked to pretend Swansea had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed the day they'd met. "Nah, I get it," he chuckled. "I don't believe in that kinda fortune-telling stuff either." The stool squeak-squeaked beneath him. "Capricorn?"
"There's gonna be an airlock in your future if you don't shut up and let me work," Swansea growled.
Well that hardly seemed fair. Didn't he start their conversation? Daisuke was only minding his business, waiting for the opportunity to ask Swansea his opinion on Hawaiian shirts and if he'd ever consider wearing one. "Why'd you wanna know?" He asked. "Ooh! Are you gonna rig the food dispenser to make two cakes in one trip?"
Swansea rolled his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. "Thought it'd be a nice thing to know about the kid I'm fuckin'."
Oh. That's right. Daisuke figured there was no better way of putting what they did to each other in their shared quarters, once Swansea had gotten over the lack of personal space, and Daisuke had finally worked up the courage to surprise his reluctant mentor-slash-grumpy old crush with a bashful kiss. Lovers didn't really fit the bill when only half of their partnership was head-over-heels for the other. And Daisuke had a feeling that if he were to call Swansea his boyfriend, he'd be stuffed head-first into an access vent with his mouth firmly taped shut. So, yeah, they were little more than fuck-buddies, minus the buddy part. But he couldn't deny that Swansea asking about his birthday was a generous step in the right direction.
Daisuke stopped turning and scratched at his chin. "Huh. Guess it kinda is. Too bad it passed, though. We coulda celebrated. Even without the cake."
"Captain Curly gets it this haul." There was a brief respite from Swansea's sparking as he reached to take a sip of what Daisuke had counted as his fourth cup of coffee in half as many hours. "Guy probably deserves three, havin' to put up with Jimmy's shit."
"Maybe we could do mine next year? Y'know, to say 'Keep up the good work, Daisuke'?"
Swansea barked a laugh that could strip the bolts off a bulkhead. "Didn't know 'work' was part of your vocabulary."
Wouldn't have been the first time they'd found themselves on opposite ends of a selective dictionary. Surely Swansea must've remembered the look on Daisuke's face when he discovered his grumpy mouth was capable of using the word "Good" in a genuine context. "You're getting so good with your tongue, Daisuke"; "Good job taking my load"; "Be a good boy and come for me"; "You have no idea how good you make me feel."
Daisuke's grinning cheeks nearly combusted thinking of all the ways Swansea might employ that special, four-letter word in bed that night. Maybe even another four-letter word, if fate decided to reward Daisuke's hard work by making every one of his dreams come true.
He put on his most sultry, least embarrassing voice. "Or we could celebrate with just the two of us."
"Took you on a 'dinner date' just last week, didn't I?" Swansea huffed.
If one could consider eating underseasoned meat and potatoes, then smashing their lips and bodies together in the romantically shitty candlelight of a mechanical-smelling utility room a "date." "C'mon, Swansea," he whined.
"C'mon nothin'. This ain't a pleasure cruise."
Frowning, Daisuke lowered his head and began to twist the silver ring on his finger.
It had been two months and eighteen days since departure. Six weeks since he'd stopped sleeping on the floor of their quarters and slept curled up in Swansea's arms instead. Endless hours spent carrying his heart in his hands, while he prayed that Swansea would take it and offer his own in exchange.
The room sank into silence under Daisuke's sorrowful breaths. Until, with a tired sigh, Swansea pushed his stool back and walked over to lay a hand on his shoulder.
"Listen, kid, we got a long trip ahead of us," he said. "Plenty of time to get to know each other." His thick, callused fingers moved to gently grasp Daisuke's chin, and, tipping it upwards, he bowed to press a soft kiss to Daisuke's lips.
"Let's celebrate tonight, then." As Swansea whispered, a subtle shimmer flashed in his eyes. "Two-man party. I'll give ya a gift you'll never forget." Slowly, his wrinkled cheeks pulled into a smile, and Daisuke broke out in a grin so big it could've encircled the galaxy a dozen times over.
"Yeah!" He cheered. "That sounds totally awesome! What are you gonna get me? Will there be pizza and ice cream? Is sweetener involved? I bet there's sweetener involved."
The smile on Swansea's face tipped into a crooked smirk. "Guess you're just gonna have to find out."
He arrived at the door to their quarters while Captain Curly, Anya, and Jimmy were still knee-deep in karaoke night, Swansea having left an hour prior, after a thrilling rendition of "Eye of the Tiger"—complete with pushbroom dance partner. Pop music was more Daisuke's speed, but he did learn Ellen Foley's part in "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" on the off-chance Swansea might request a duet. Swansea had yet to offer.
One of these days, Daisuke smiled to himself as he fluffed his hair and smoothed down his shirts, despite knowing full well that not a single piece of him would be left neat and tidy by the time he and Swansea were finished. He stood there for a good minute or so, not entirely sure if he should step right in as usual, or give Swansea the courtesy of a knock. For all he knew, Swansea was lying buck-naked on the bed, wrapped in bows and ribbons while he waited for Daisuke to slither through the door and strip down to join him, mounting his hips as he rode Swansea's cock until Swansea groaned and grunted and called him "a prettier piece of ass than my ex-wife" one more time for good measure. He might even be so impressed that he'd let Daisuke sleep on the dry side of the bed that night. For once.
Unable to contain his excitement, Daisuke slapped the switch and rushed inside the moment the door whooshed open. "Hey, Swansea! Did I miss the—" His voice cut off, and his brows knit together. "...piñata?"
He hadn't seen such a bummer of a party since the one his mother had been obligated to throw for his high school graduation, regardless of how unhappy she was with his decision to "take some time off" before applying to college. Where are the balloons? Where are the streamers and the refreshment table and the pile of gifts ready to be unwrapped? Even Swansea looked no different from earlier, standing there to greet him without so much as a smile on his face or a party hat on his junk. Daisuke frowned. "I thought we were gonna celebrate?"
Swansea didn't even pretend to acknowledge his disappointment. "Pizza never showed, and the ice cream machine was broken, so."
"Oh, um—" Embarrassed, Daisuke ruffled an uneasy knot in his hair. "That's cool, I guess. Then—"
Then Swansea slid his hand to the back of Daisuke's neck and kissed him hard.
There was no breath left in Daisuke's lungs to voice any further complaint.
Whenever they made out, Swansea poured his all into it—teeth, tongue, lips that seized what they wanted, and gave back tenfold. He tasted like coffee and iron, and something desperate that Daisuke didn't understand at his age yet felt all too deeply. They were two waves crashing together, and Daisuke was always left clawing for shore, fingers tangled in Swansea's thinning hair, while his mouth scraped out one final gasp.
He licked hungrily at Swansea's tongue, whimpered when Swansea broke their kiss to murmur below his jaw. "Now, we can get right to openin' up presents."
His big hands made their way under Daisuke's Hawaiian shirt, and Daisuke immediately relaxed his arms, bright pink fabric falling at his feet in a heap of hibiscus petals.
Am I the present? The thought crossed his mind as Swansea was pushing up his uniform tee. It certainly felt that way, having his clothes carefully stripped off like he'd been wrapped in pretty paper, and Swansea couldn't bring himself to make a single tear. Or…maybe this is what Swansea wanted to give me? More of his rough palms and callused fingertips, his lips mouthing along Daisuke's neck while Daisuke tugged at the back of his polo, impossibly helpless.
They untangled themselves for a brief, blinking moment, just long enough for Swansea to remove Daisuke's shirt before he reached behind his head and yanked his own over his shoulders. Not wanting to waste another second, Daisuke slipped his hands under Swansea's belly, fingers tugging at his belt buckle while their mouths dove forward to devour each other once again. He felt Swansea's leathery touch on his chest, and moaned against his tongue.
Swansea liked to play with his nipples. He said they were Cute, Tiny, Pretty like the rest of him. They looked sexy rolled between his fingers, always made Daisuke's cock twitch. Swansea knew how sensitive they were, and Daisuke swore he could hear him chuckle as he pinched them with both hands. His teeth nipped at Daisuke's bottom lip.
"Good boy."
Oh, fuck, Daisuke might've damn well exploded just from his voice. Not to mention all the moist kisses Swansea was currently laying on his neck, breath steamy and billowing across damp skin. His fingers trembled with Swansea's belt half-open between them, unable to finish the job.
"Mmm…Swansea." Daisuke's eyes fell shut and his head tipped to one side, beckoning Swansea to eat to his heart's content. "Feels good."
But good apparently wasn't good enough, because Swansea eased away before Daisuke could so much as whimper, gingerly grasping him by the wrist and bringing his hand to his lips. Eyes closed, he parted them slightly, and folded them around Daisuke's index and middle fingers, Daisuke watching through fluttering lashes as Swansea moaned while he sucked them into his mouth.
He moaned. And, fuck, if it wasn't the hottest thing Daisuke had ever heard.
Daisuke's lungs fought for breath, his body so aroused by the sight, the feel of Swansea's slick, velvety tongue sliding between his fingers, he didn't know what to make of it, and definitely would've come in his pants if Swansea hadn't pulled back with a loud smack of his lips.
"Take this ring off," he commanded. "Don't want you losin' it anywhere."
Daisuke snapped his half-lidded eyes open. "Oh—um—OK." The ring easily slid off his saliva-soaked finger, and he crammed it into his jeans pocket, looking curiously back at Swansea. "Where would I lose it?"
Swansea huffed. "Inside my asshole, stupid. Where the hell else?"
Did he say— Daisuke couldn't help but laugh. "Ha-Ha. Funny, Swansea. You really—"
Swansea cupped his cheeks and kissed him roughly.
"You're gonna be fuckin' me tonight, kid." His voice was a growl, his eyes cold, hard steel. "And I been lookin' forward to it for a long time."
Oh. My. God.
He wanted Daisuke to fuck him; the idea made Daisuke's head spin. This was Swansea they were talking about—the Tulpar's big, rough, brute of a mechanic. Swansea, who shotgunned coffee until his chest hairs stood on end. Swansea, who surprised him with way too many boners for a man his age. Swansea, who was literally up Daisuke's ass as much as Daisuke was figuratively up his. Swansea was asking—no, he was telling—
Daisuke tried to swallow his astonishment, but Swansea's mouth was at his throat this time, fingers freeing his belt in just a quick pull and a sharp tug. He got the button and fly open in an instant, and plunged one hand inside to fondle him through his briefs—already soaked with a considerable wet spot where the tip of his cock pressed against the fabric.
"Fuck, Daisuke, you're so goddamn sexy." Swansea palmed his clothed length. "Like this hot cock of yours. Can't wait to feel it inside me."
"Y-You really want me to?" Daisuke's voice cracked as the words tumbled out. "I-I never—"
Swansea laughed. "What? None of your bikini babes ever let ya in the back door?"
"N-No—I mean—I—"
"Guess old Swansea'll have to teach ya the right way to knock."
With a gentle squeeze of his sack, Swansea slowly slid his hand out, kissing him tenderly before he stepped back and began to open his work pants, picking up where Daisuke's shaky hands had stopped.
"Now, take off the rest of yer shit," he said. "I didn't steal an enema from Medical for nothin'."
Daisuke almost tripped over himself trying to tug his boots off.
The jeans didn't go any easier, clinging to his legs like they knew how eager he was and were determined to cockblock him at every angle. By the time he got them shoved down, and steadied himself on his feet, Swansea was already stretching out on the bed, staring at Daisuke with hunger in his eyes.
"C'mere."
In a daze, Daisuke teetered closer, tugged the rest of the way by Swansea's index finger hooked under the elastic of his briefs. Then, he was falling into Swansea's arms, cradling his round jaw as he kissed him with more passion than he ever imagined he could possess.
Swansea would pull him on top sometimes while they made out. Daisuke could tell he liked the feeling of it, of having a sweet young thing writhe against his aging body. And Daisuke absolutely adored being held this way, how easy it was to grind his hips against Swansea's and rut their cocks together. How Swansea's soft belly cushioned his toned abs, and how his lush chest hair clung to Daisuke's skin with such sweat and desire, he'd find them still hanging on even after a shower. Being this close to Swansea was a luxury; it gave Daisuke the upper hand.
It gave him power.
He dragged his lips over Swansea's cheek to whisper in his ear. "Help me get these off."
The hands that had been groping Daisuke's ass slid upwards, thumbs dipping beneath the elastic, pushing it over his supple cheeks. Daisuke wriggled his hips, kicked his legs to fling the sticky briefs aside. Their cocks were bare now, satin-smooth skin gliding against one another with a scorching, liquid heat. Swansea groaned into the crook of Daisuke's neck, and began to scratch his blunt fingernails up and down his back.
"Fuck, that's good. You're gonna make me pop, you keep that up."
Daisuke couldn't do that; not this soon. Not when he knew Swansea—horny old man that he was—still had to abide by the passage of time, his body only capable of getting it up once per night. If Swansea wanted Daisuke in his ass, then he was going to come with Daisuke in his ass. No exceptions.
His bravado fading with each scrape of Swansea's nails, Daisuke shivered, and brought his lips to his ear again. "C-Can I—"
"Whatever you want, sweetheart," Swansea murmured. "I'm all yours."
That word—the way he spoke it—lit a fire in Daisuke's belly that nearly consumed him from the inside out.
He attacked Swansea's lips with blazing fervor, pushing them open while Swansea's arm tensed around his chest, and his other hand seared the skin at the small of his back. Their tongues were seeking, dancing, melting into that soft, sweet candy Daisuke simply could not get enough of. He moaned into Swansea's mouth, and Swansea welcomed it, open and pliant and damn near submissive.
He was Daisuke's. He was all fucking his.
Sharp teeth catching Swansea's bottom lip, Daisuke greedily began to nip down his chin and along his jaw, over to his earlobe, where he could suckle and redden the flesh without causing too much suspicion among the others. They weren't stupid; Daisuke had seen how Anya's eyes would brim with concern whenever he smiled a little too sweetly at Swansea during dinner. He'd heard Captain Curly whispering to Jimmy in the halls, and Jimmy scowling back like it was none of his business. "Smartest thing that asshole ever did," Swansea said when Daisuke had told him about it. Still, he was kind enough to assuage Daisuke's fears by taking care never to leave any marks above the collar.
Daisuke feared nothing now; he only hungered.
He let Swansea's earlobe pop from between his lips, and trailed his mouth lower, kiss after kiss blooming red like flowers on Swansea's neck. They gathered in a bouquet just below his Adam's apple, and when Daisuke reached the spot on his chest where buttons and fabric were sure to stake their claim, he sucked so hard, Swansea's back arched off the bed.
"Goddamn." There was a wantonness to Swansea's tone that Daisuke could feel all the way to his cock. "You got some fuckin' mouth on you."
Daisuke snorted through his nose, and kissed a path to Swansea's nipple.
If one thing could be said for Swansea's big, hairy, meaty chest, it was that the guy had an irresistibly squishy pair of man-boobs. Miles from the melons on some of Daisuke's swimsuit-model posters back home, but a million times sexier. Even when Swansea had him crushed to the mattress, Daisuke was always eager to wedge a hand between them so he could grab a fistful. On top, it was so much easier, and he took full advantage of that, reaching to cup Swansea's left breast, and giving it a light squeeze.
Swansea's groan buzzed a beautiful melody against his lips.
Gently, Daisuke squeezed again, rolled his palm over the nipple while his mouth continued to creep towards the other. Swansea's fingers threaded themselves through his hair, mussing it up as Daisuke had known (and had hoped) he would. So much time spent combing and styling only for Swansea to tease and tousle and tell him how hot he looked with his luscious brown locks spread out on the pillow in a soft starburst—it sent a thrill through Daisuke unlike any other. Swansea stroked the back of his head tenderly, drew in slow, calming breaths, though Daisuke could feel the tension in his fingers, the way his body tightened the longer Daisuke fondled him, the closer his lips got to where Swansea ached for them to be.
When he finally pressed a kiss to the edge of Swansea's right nipple, Swansea gave a sigh sweeter than cake.
If Daisuke hadn't been convinced the word "Shy" was missing from Swansea's dictionary, he might have called him as much, too bashful to admit his stiff buds were just as sensitive as Daisuke's own. They were slightly larger, pinkish whereas Daisuke's were tan, and kissed by dark curls that coiled in gentle spirals around them, perpetually sticking to Daisuke's tongue, no matter how carefully he sucked and licked. Sighing, he nuzzled some aside, and felt their threads tickle his nostrils like timid blades of grass. Swansea's fingers twitched, he inhaled sharply as Daisuke parted his lips.
All it took was a single flick.
Every insult, every compliment that Swansea had bestowed upon him rushed out in one long, garbled groan, Good and Stupid and Useless and Sweetheart ringing in Daisuke's ears as he traced the point of his tongue around the rosy border of Swansea's nipple. And—oh—how beautifully Swansea shivered, how deliciously his skin prickled when Daisuke circled him again and again. He was wet, spreading his legs wide in order to brace his heels on the mattress and rut against Daisuke's stomach, the hand woven through Daisuke's hair now shaking and clenching while it desperately fought to let Daisuke set the pace. Fortunately, Daisuke was just as eager.
He swept his tongue over the budding peak, pursed his lips around it and softly sucked. Swansea always tasted like fresh, clean sweat, seasoned by hot blood and hard work. Daisuke could never get enough of burying his face in his chest, or brushing his nose against his armpit, so Swansea's scent, his flavor stayed with him wherever he was. He was crazy addicted, and he let Swansea know by lapping harder and quicker, moaning as Swansea's nipple turned to pure stone. The other was rolled like a marble between his fingers, scissored in the valley that led to his knuckles. Swansea was gently petting his hair now, stroking the nape of his neck. His breath came in gasps, no words to be found. But Daisuke heard everything.
Plucking the nipple with his teeth, Daisuke let it snap back into place, kissed it once more, then slowly made his way lower. There were hairs on his tongue, picked off with a quick pinch of his fingers. Sticky skin pulling at his body, a soft stomach so covered with wispy fur, he couldn't really call it a happy trail. Below its curve laid Swansea's cock, pressed against the edge and angled upwards as far as it could go. He was girthy, uncut. A decent length, the perfect length to hit that sweet spot inside Daisuke. Daisuke wriggled between Swansea's legs, stretched out so his feet hung off the mattress, and brought his mouth a mere inch from Swansea's cock. He exhaled against his shaft, and saw it jump enticingly.
Sucking cock was the fastest thing Daisuke had ever learned. Watch your teeth. Roll the balls. Dip your tongue under his foreskin, because it drives Swansea crazy. And Daisuke could pleasure him for hours, work his mouth until his jaw was sore, twirl circles around Swansea's head until Swansea was bucking and groaning and shooting spurt after spurt of salty come down his throat. Swansea was never too rough with him, but he didn't treat him like a delicate flower, either. There was no doubt in Daisuke's mind that Swansea saw the lust in his eyes, the desire to be praised, to be wanted, to give himself body and soul to the man who'd awoken this need in him, wrapped his fingers around it and claimed it as his own.
His hands held onto whatever part of Daisuke they could, trembling when Daisuke pushed his legs apart and sucked a patch of skin high up on his inner thigh.
"Kid—" The sound evaporated in the distance. "Please—"
It was all Daisuke needed to hear.
Curling his fingers around the shaft, he drew Swansea's cock to his mouth, and slowly started to rub his lips over the tip.
Swansea's gasp sliced through the air like sweet, creamy butter.
He was soaked. Oozing more precome than Daisuke had ever seen before, and he'd seen so much of Swansea over those past few weeks, tempted him, bent himself into innumerable positions to learn all the secrets about Swansea that his prodding questions couldn't touch. Swansea was good with his fingers; Swansea preferred brunettes; Swansea had a weakness for watching while a pretty face and an eager mouth sucked him off, and Daisuke would use every chance he could to bat his lashes at him, sweep the stray hairs from his forehead and reach between his legs to tug at his cock, moaning so he could prove to Swansea how good he made him feel, how he couldn't wait to drink his come.
He looked up, and immediately met Swansea's gaze.
"Christ," Swansea breathed. "You're fuckin' stunning."
Prideful, Daisuke showed off his glossy smile. Then, coyly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he bowed his head and sucked Swansea between his lips.
The joy of it hit him all at once.
Silky skin and luscious slick seemed to melt in his mouth, Swansea hot and throbbing for the kind of pleasure that Daisuke liked to believe only he could give. Humming, he pressed the flat of his tongue to that beautiful vein on the underside of Swansea's shaft, drew back up to his head and swirled circles around the tip. Swansea half-laughed, half-purred in satisfaction.
"Like when you use that tongue for somethin' other than chewin' my ear off."
Daisuke put it to good use while he worked Swansea over, slurping down his length, squeezing his balls, making all those cute little noises that Swansea liked to pull out of him. The same sounds that Daisuke was hearing now, only in a deeper rumble, an irresistible plea spilled from breathless lips.
"Daisuke—" Swansea was squirming. "You gotta stop. Or—"
Daisuke shoved back abruptly, and let Swansea's flushed cock pop from his mouth. "Roll over and get on your knees."
There could be no mistaking the glint in Swansea's crystal-blue eyes. With a sly smirk, he pushed himself up on his elbows, peered over his shoulder at Daisuke as he climbed onto his knees and reached for the lube on the nightstand. "Here—" He passed it behind his back. "Finger me a little first. Then, when you put your cock in, I want you to fuck me nice and slow. Don't go poundin' away like I'm some kinda sex doll. Jerk me off while you do it. And when you come, don't even think about pullin' out."
Daisuke couldn't think of a goddamn word let alone the idea of pulling out before he'd signed his name in milky-white ink all over Swansea's insides.
Why did he have to order Swansea on his knees in such a commanding tone? Big, brave Daisuke, taking charge of the situation like it was a fucking baseball game and he'd stepped up to the plate ready to bring home the pennant. What a joke. He couldn't score three runs with the amount of girls he'd fucked, but there Swansea was, bent over with his cheek against the pillow and his ass in the air, expecting Daisuke to knock one out of the park.
The tube tumbled from his grasp when he tried to unscrew the cap. A swing and a miss. His knees nearly gave out chasing after it. Two strikes. His hands flew to brace themselves on Swansea's hips, and Swansea belted a groan like he'd never heard before.
…Three? Daisuke swallowed the lump in his throat, and looked down.
Yep. Those were Swansea's cheeks, alright. Round. Flabby. Pale as the moon, if the moon were to cover itself in whipped cream and sprinkle a heaping helping of hair on top. He didn't have any dimples—why would Daisuke think he'd have dimples?—but there was a small brown mole peeking from the edge of his crack that had somehow escaped Daisuke's keen eye, obsessed as he was with ogling every square inch of Swansea, both in and out of his clothing. Captivated by it, he brushed his thumb over the smooth hill, before slipping into Swansea's crack and gently peeling one cheek back.
Once he saw what Swansea had been hiding, his mouth went bone-dry.
It was a forest. A goddamn forest growing between Swansea's cheeks. Curls twisted their bodies like leafy branches to the sky. Wrinkles spread their delicate roots, and at the very center, a soft, pink flower puckered its lips at Daisuke, as though calling out to be smothered by his kiss. He grasped Swansea's other cheek and pried him open even wider, feeling the sweat on his palms yet not knowing who it belonged to.
He loved whenever Swansea would do this. Peel him like a fruit, push his face inside to lap hungrily at the pit. He'd make such obscene noises while he feasted on Daisuke's hole, then pull his quivering body into a kiss after, because "You taste too good not to share." And the longer he stared, the more Daisuke began to wonder if he could say the same for Swansea.
His mouth watered. Swansea shifted his hips.
"Dai—"
What remained of his name fell into a groan the moment Daisuke dropped his head and ran his tongue right over Swansea's pucker.
"Daisuke—ffffuck—"
It was everything Daisuke had never known he'd wanted: Soft wrinkles against his tongue, the flavor of sweat and musk and hidden desire. Swansea moaning for him as Daisuke licked from bottom to top, pointing his tongue to tease and tickle his entrance. He smacked his lips together. "You taste amazing."
When Swansea spoke, there was a clear grin in his voice. "Yeah? You like eatin' my ass?"
Daisuke answered with a muffled Yes, his face already buried between Swansea's cheeks again.
Please, please let there be more of this. Every wrinkle was like heaven, every ridge steeped in Swansea's taste, his scent, his longing to be possessed by this slacker kid who couldn't do shit right unless he was on his knees or his back, or riding Swansea like a wanton whore. Swansea was pushing his hips against Daisuke's face—needy, helpless. Gasping and clenching when Daisuke pierced him with his tongue and pursed his lips to suck his sweet, twitching hole. Swansea groaned.
"Daisuke—give me your fingers now."
Slowly, Daisuke withdrew his tongue, swept it over Swansea's furl, then sat back on his heels and grabbed the tube of lubricant. There were more hairs sticking to him—of course—and he paused to pluck them off, almost too enraptured by the marks his nails had left on Swansea's cheeks to get the cap unscrewed. After that, it was smooth sailing—squeeze, spread, pull back one of Swansea's cheeks again, and smear two slick fingertips over his already damp and sensitive pucker. Licking the lingering taste from his lips, Daisuke pressed gently, and watched as Swansea sucked both fingers in like he'd been waiting for that moment his entire life.
Daisuke was so fucking turned on.
Was this what Swansea felt when he fucked him? Soft walls, wet heat, and unbelievable tightness. He struggled to draw his fingers out the slightest bit, Swansea's hungry mouth eager to consume. But once he got the hang of it, Daisuke was thrusting with a gentle rhythm, relishing in how luscious and decadent it all felt, and listening to his heart beat faster when it realized his cock was next on the list.
The squelch of slick fingers gave way to Swansea's contented sigh. "Yeah…that's it. So good."
God, it was. Daisuke's cock could've been called a waterfall at that point, given how eagerly it dripped onto the sheets. Oh man, Swansea's definitely gonna make me sleep in the wet spot. But fuck if he wouldn't sleep in the ocean itself, just to bust a nut inside him. Swansea had all but demanded it.
His legs started to tremble as Daisuke plunged deeper. "Ah, yeah. Curl 'em a little. Like I do with you."
That's right; Daisuke had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one with a sweet spot.
He did as he was told, curled the tips downwards, felt around for Swansea's prostate. He knew he'd found it when Swansea jerked and gave a sudden cry.
"Right there?" Daisuke asked.
"Right—there—"
With each stroke, Swansea moaned louder, his ass puckering, insides a wet, sloppy mess. And Daisuke didn't stop for a second. He pushed Swansea to the edge, drew him back again. Rubbed his sweet spot, then slid his fingers almost completely out, over and over, until Swansea was fucking back against him, chasing after the release he so desperately needed. Daisuke would drive him mad, if he weren't close to madness himself.
Pulling his fingers out, he snatched up the lube, knowing the answer to his question long before he asked it. "Can I fuck you now?"
Swansea groaned. "God, yeah."
Daisuke's legs felt surprisingly steady when he pushed himself onto his knees, though his cock was twitching with so much lust, he feared he might come at any moment. He slicked it up with loose, careful fingers, gripped the base, then inched forward to rub the tip over Swansea's lovely hole. His breath hitched; he pushed at the center.
The sight of Swansea opening for his cock was the most breathtaking thing Daisuke had ever witnessed. And when that velvet rim reached the ridge of his crown, and snapped closed around it, the stars themselves went supernova in a flash of pure ecstasy.
A choked-off moan burst from Daisuke's throat as he threw his head back and scrambled to grasp Swansea's hips.
He was inside. He was inside Swansea. Just the tip but already enough to blow his mind. He had to breathe. He had to move, do something to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime experience. His tongue was sandpaper, his eyelids weighted curtains holding on for dear life as he peeled them open and looked down to where his and Swansea's bodies connected. Swansea was stretched, pulsating. Daisuke could hear his gasps and sense his eagerness to continue, to be split wider and fucked into oblivion by Daisuke's long, youthful cock. He was longer, wasn't he? An inch maybe, and ever so slightly slimmer. Hopelessly inexperienced, yet he couldn't take his eyes off Swansea, and he sure as shit wasn't going to let him leave their room without being satisfied.
Little by little, Daisuke pressed forward, one, two inches. His slick length throbbed, flushed and just as hungry for Swansea's ass as it was for him. He gazed in awe as the edge of his vein slipped past Swansea's rim, wondering if Swansea felt it, if he enjoyed—no, loved it. Swansea was breathing slowly; Daisuke was biting his lip.
And then, there was nothing left to swallow; Swansea had completely devoured him.
Every part of Daisuke felt like it was on fire. There were his toes curling, his fingers clenching. His heart beating through his cock while he froze with his hips glued to Swansea's ass, unable to move from how firmly he was being gripped. He bit his lip harder, but couldn't stop the whimper that escaped.
Swansea chuckled. "Well?"
"You're so—tight," Daisuke gasped. "Hot."
"Not bad for an old bastard, huh?" He wiggled his hips, to tempt him onwards. "Now, move. Show me what your cock can do."
Shit, Daisuke didn't even know himself. Still, he dug his fingers in, and slowly began to rock back and forth, pulling out, pushing into Swansea's slick, soft heat. "Is it good—ah—Swansea?"
Swansea met him grunt for grunt. "Better'n—I ever had."
Wait, he'd been fucked like this before? By men (and women?) who couldn't hold a candle to Daisuke? Alright, maybe Daisuke was giving himself too much credit. Competitive as he tended to be, he didn't need his ego stroked twenty-four-seven.
His hands would much rather stroke Swansea's cock instead.
Thrusting steadily, he let go of Swansea's hip and ran his fingers down the bumps in his spine, Swansea shivering against their tips, a delicious sensation that followed Daisuke's touch all the way under Swansea's hanging gut and along the meat of his shaft. He took it in his hand, and tugged from root to tip, Swansea's foreskin sliding over the head exactly how Daisuke knew he liked it. Swansea groaned and started to thrust back against him, faster and faster, until their slapping flesh echoed throughout the room.
"Ah—Daisuke—" His voice was a stammer. "D-Don't stop—I—I love y—I love this."
Daisuke released his cock and pulled out so quickly, Swansea's hole snapped shut with an angry squelch.
"Goddammit, Daisuke," he growled. "I told you—"
"I wanna fuck you from the front." Daisuke felt his cheeks flush as he said it. "I wanna—I wanna see your face when you come."
Swansea snorted, "Aren't you romantic?"
"Please, Swansea?" He whined. "It's my birthday."
He heard Swansea grumble something under his breath before he shifted awkwardly onto his back, spreading his legs wide and pulling them to his chest with his hands locked under his knees. "Like what you see?"
Like? Daisuke was practically drooling. "Yeah. You look smoking hot."
Swansea rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding his blush. "Just stick it in already. If I wanted to spend the night with blue balls, I'd ask my ex-wife to take me back."
Palms gliding over Swansea's thighs, Daisuke lined his cock up, and slid inside with a long yet gentle push.
"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about." Though, in this position, Swansea could do little more than talk. "Fuck me, baby. Come inside my ass."
Not the four-letter word Daisuke had been hoping to hear that night, but a damn good one nonetheless. He tightened his grip and ground his hips into Swansea, and he swore Swansea got even hotter.
I'm gonna come. Before Swansea. The one time Swansea wasn't supposed to make him come first, and Daisuke was locked in and ready to blow. Swansea would be so pissed, he'd never ask him to top again, and how the fuck was he supposed to live that down?
Quickly, he scrambled to grasp Swansea's length, jerking him off in a mad dash to the finish line. Swansea was moaning, dripping all over, juicy ass squeezing Daisuke's cock as if he intended to suck the very life out of him. Daisuke screwed his eyes shut, panted heavier and faster with each thrust.
"Swansea—mmph—I don't know—how much longer—"
"Daisuke—" Swansea groaned. "I'm close—ah, right there—I'm gonna come—"
The instant he heard that, Daisuke tore his eyes open, and caught the most beautiful glimpse of Swansea shooting across his chest, his face twisted in pleasure, caused by none other than Daisuke himself. And, finally, Daisuke let go.
He pumped so much come in Swansea's ass, he could feel it trickle down his sack as his hips stuttered to a halt.
An endless, heaving moment passed before Daisuke could gather his wits long enough to pull his softening cock free. "Fuck—" He gasped. "I can't believe—we just did that."
Swansea was smiling. "Believe it. You're a natural, kid. Grade-A Ass-fucker."
Better than being called a Grade-A Fuck-up. Though he wouldn't be surprised to hear Swansea unleash that one again, if he didn't hurry and clean the come currently dripping out of his freshly-plowed hole.
His muscles now one enormous knot, Daisuke eased Swansea's legs onto the mattress and dragged himself towards the side of the bed to fumble around for the unlucky piece of clothing that would become their makeshift rag that evening. His uniform shirt, go figure. But Daisuke was used to Swansea putting him on laundry duty, so…no harm, no foul?
It felt strange, being the one to wipe Swansea down, instead of the other way around. Kinda sweet, kinda caring. And Daisuke took great care with him, his exhausted hand moving over Swansea's body as gently as it could. When he was finished, he tossed the shirt to the floor again, and sank into Swansea's open arms. Swansea held his head to his chest, stroking his hair tenderly. "You good, kid?"
"Mmh-hmm." Daisuke's words came in a sleepy mumble. "Thanks for the birthday gift."
The soothing swell of Swansea's chest was like a wave beneath his cheek, bidding him off to dreamland. "I know I don't say this much," Swansea breathed. "But you deserve it, Daisuke."
All at once, the waves stopped. Exhaustion whistled goodbye, beacons blared their lights into Daisuke's eyes. Heart fluttering, he craned his neck to look up at Swansea, bravely ready to rock the boat. "Um, Swansea? Is there…another gift you wanna give me? Maybe just something small you wanna say? Like, three words?"
Swansea's thick fingers slowed to a crawl in his hair. A long pause, a drawn-out breath. "You were right," he sighed. "I'm an Aries."
Daisuke stared with furrowed brows, and when he saw the pink that had crept into Swansea's cheeks, he couldn't help but burst out in hysterical laughter.
"Shut up," Swansea grumbled over him, and tipped Daisuke's chin up for a kiss.