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Mahito comes by fifteen minutes after Junpei’s mom leaves for her job – working the night shift at a local hospital where she’s the nurse in charge of a whole floor. He lets himself in with the code that he’s not supposed to have, announcing his presence with the rustling of plastic bags as he toes off his boots in the genkan and hangs his coat up on the hook by the door
“You got here fast,” Junpei says, coming out from the kitchen. Comfortable in his own apartment and with his boyfriend, he has his dark hair pinned back from his scarred up forehead and he’s dressed in one of Mahito’s black band t-shirts. His legs, long and skinny with a bruise high on his pale right thigh, are bare without a hint that he’s wearing anything underneath them. “Did you run here or what?”
He stands at the little step in front of the genkan, toes curling at the edge, and peers at Mahito with his eyebrows drawn together over his big green eyes. He looks curious, not suspicious, and Mahito decides to reward (distract) him with a kiss.
That first kiss – a pop kiss that earns him a giddy giggle bubbling free from Junpei’s throat – isn’t enough. All it does is make Mahito want more.
And so, more he gets.
Mahito’s plastic bags of snacks and drinks drops to the floor with a quiet clatter that he’s sure they’ll regret later. He wraps his left arm around Junpei’s narrow waist, hauling him in close until Junpei takes the hint and loops his arms around his shoulders.
“I just missed you,” Mahito says, even though that’s not even remotely the truth. It’s what Junpei needs to hear, however, instead of “I’ve had your mom’s schedule memorized for months and watched until she drove off”.
Junpei’s next giggle is a little louder, a little more embarrassed and his face tints with an obvious flush. “Mahito,” he whines, fingers fisting in the fabric stretched over Mahito’s shoulders. “You’re so greasy!”
His mouth is curved up in one of those small, pleased smiles that he only gives to Mahito and, before long, Mahito leans in to kiss him again. This second kiss is hungrier, hornier, and quickly leads to Junpei moaning as Mahito’s tongue slides against his. They’ve kissed before, plenty of times, because that’s about as far as Junpei will let Mahito go before he gets anxious, but Junpei always reacts like he’s shocked that someone could want to suck on his tongue or kiss his lips until they’re swollen.
When Mahito breaks the kiss, he notices the thin line of saliva stretching between their mouths, and his dick twitches against Junpei’s belly where they’re pressed together.
Junpei, the most innocent pervert Mahito has ever met, doesn’t notice. He’s busy panting against Mahito’s throat and trying to calm down. Even if Junpei won’t tell him, Mahito knows that his boyfriend is turned on and antsy about the heat building between his legs.
A heat that usually goes unfulfilled.
“You get like this every time I kiss you,” Mahito points out, stroking his hand up and down Junpei’s back but stopping just shy of his ass. He’s going to get his hands on it tonight, that’s the plan, but he has no intention of scaring Junpei (this early, at least). “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now, Junpei?”
Junpei shakes his head without pulling away from Mahito’s neck. He clings to Mahito shamelessly, pressing close and squirming in a way that makes Mahito imagine fucking him right there in the genkan.
“I can’t believe you make me feel this good just from kissing,” Junpei confesses. “It’s hard to get used to.”
Mahito licks his lips. “Oh yeah?” He risks it then, sliding his hand down to palm Junpei’s sweet little ass through the oversized shirt in a lingering caress that earns him a startled yelp right against his ear.
But the loud sound can’t drown out the rush of blood to his ears when he realizes that all he can feel underneath his fingertips is the warmth of Junpei’s skin. Not the telltale shift of fabric against fabric.
“You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?” Mahito asks, pulling back so that Junpei has to look at him and can no longer hide his face. “Why?”
Mahito isn’t complaining. He’s just… startled. The most that he’s been able to get Junpei to do with him has been grinding in the back of a movie theater, some over the clothes clit rubbing, and teaching Junpei how to suck his dick in the bathroom of a club that he snuck Junpei into. He’s never seen his boyfriend’s pussy despite how often Junpei soaks his thigh when they sit together.
Months of getting blueballed, of fucking his hand or an onahole and picturing Junpei’s teary eyed gaze fixed on him.
And now, here he is inches away from that sweet little pussy without underwear in the way.
Junpei hiccups something that sounds like an apology and he tries to fling himself at Mahito’s throat to hide again.
“I – I just got out of the shower an-and I didn’t have any clean underwear left.”
Mahito snorts, fingers inching underneath the bottom of Junpei’s borrowed shirt to nudge at his damp pussy lips. He doesn’t slide them in, content to tease Junpei with the slightest pressure against his hole. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“Don’t tease me,” Junpei demands, starting to pull back from Mahito as best as he can. His face is blotchy with an embarrassed flush, and he can’t meet Mahito’s eyes. “I’m really not lying. I just… I didn’t think you’d be over here so quickly. I thought I’d have time to find something.”
As much as Mahito wants to keep messing with Junpei, he knows that’s not the way to get what he wants. So he gives Junpei a break, pulling his hand away after one gentle pat on the ass and kissing the corner of his downturned mouth.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Mahito says, lying because he knows it’s what Junpei needs to hear. “I guess I got carried away. You never let me play with you properly. I thought you were finally comfortable with me touching you down there.”
Junpei’s mouth twists and he clenches his hands in the front of his borrowed shirt. “Mahito, I –”
Mahito cuts Junpei off with a casual wave of his hand and then squeezes past Junpei within the genkan’s narrow confines, scooping up his bag of snacks in the process. “It’s fine,” he says on his way to the kitchen, not sparing a glance backward for Junpei even though he knows his boyfriend is probably staring after him with hurt plain on his face. “I’m not a monster. I won’t make you do anything before you’re ready.”
Junpei doesn’t move at first… And then he scurries after Mahito.
“I’m not not ready,” Junpei mutters once he’s close enough to Mahito that he can snag the loose sleeve of his shirt and pull at him to get his attention. “I’m just… scared.”
Mahito has to bite back a grin while he’s turned away from Junpei. He turns to face Junpei with a slight smile curving up his mouth, something far less manic than the one that’d come to his face upon realizing how close he’s come to getting what he wants from the boy in front of him.
“What’s there to be scared of, Junpei?” Mahito asks, tracing his fingers over the curve of Junpei’s jaw up to his ear and then down to where his pulse leaps in his throat. He leans in and kisses Junpei again, fitting their lips together and sliding his tongue into Junpei’s mouth as if it belongs there. They stand like that for several long moments, kissing in the kitchen with Mahito’s hand inching Junpei’s shirt higher and higher up his back until his ass is bare.
When Junpei realizes that he’s exposed, he yelps into Mahito’s kiss, and his hands fly back in an attempt to yank the hem of the shirt down.
Graciously, Mahito helps him, smoothing the fabric down and subtly copping a feel in the process. “See,” Mahito croons, smiling down at his trusting little boyfriend. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll take care of you. Okay?”
After a quick dinner of the leftover curry that Junpei’d made for his mother before her shift, Mahito and Junpei settle in for the night on the couch facing the television in the apartment’s small living room. While the couch is large enough that they can sit side by side – or lie down together if Mahito doesn’t mind his feet hanging off the edge – Mahito tugs Junpei into his lap.
“Mahito –”
A quick kiss to the curve of Junpei’s cheek silences whatever complaint threatens to escape his mouth and stills the boy’s flailing.
“Relax,” Mahito urges Junpei, resting his hand against his stomach to draw his attention and still his shifting. “Now, what movie was it that you wanted me to watch this time?”
Junpei blinks. “Oh, uh… there’s a new zombie movie out,” he says. “It’s not as scary as I like them. I think it’s a comedy. But… I wanted to watch it with you?” He shifts a little in Mahito’s lap, flinching as his ass rubs up against the bulge of Mahito’s half-hard dick, and then presses his face in against Mahito’s throat, lips pursing in the tiniest of kisses there before he pulls back. “O-only if you want?”
Mahito snorts at Junpei’s small sweetness, something else that’s just for him. “I like zombie movies,” he says, tone light as he starts to stroke his fingers in light circles over Junpei’s soft stomach, dipping them lower and lower on every third pass. “’sides… we can always do something else if this isn’t that interesting.”
Halfway through the movie, Mahito has Junpei spread out across his lap, shirt pushed up until it covers nothing at all from his navel down. He’s gotten this far in stages, easing the fabric higher as his hand pushes lower. It doesn’t hurt that he’s been encouraging Junpei to drink from the canned cocktail he’d bought for just such a purpose. It’s not enough to get Junpei drunk even with his inexperience, but it’s enough to make warm and pliant against Mahito as his attention shifts from the movie to what Mahito is doing with his body.
When Mahito pushes his fingers between Junpei’s legs – just to cup the hot wet space of his pussy and tease his clit, not to finger him – Junpei doesn’t flinch. He sighs out an exhale and lets his head drop back against Mahito’s shoulder, a far cry from how he’d pulled away from Mahito earlier.
“It feels good, Mahito,” Junpei murmurs, hips shifting restlessly as he rubs himself against the hand groping him. His breath comes out in little huffing moans against Mahito’s throat, just from the lightest back and forth stroke of fingers over Junpei’s slippery pussy lips and stiff little clit. “W-way better than when I do it.”
Mahito barks out a startled burst of laughter at Junpei’s dreamy admission, and he rewards Junpei by dipping the very tips of his fingers inside a hole that is apparently ready to take them at least.
“You really touch yourself like this, Junpei,” he murmurs, dick kicking against Junpei’s ass when Junpei moans his name as the fingers between his legs push deeper, stretching him out with an inexorable slide that gets him slick muscles clenching greedily around his fingers. “Isn’t that something you should’ve told me? Your boyfriend?” He laughs again when Junpei nods his head frantically, and then continues speaking. “I can’t believe you’d be so selfish –”
“Don’t be mean,” Junpei says, complaint heavy in his voice. “You’re hearing about it now, aren’t you?”
Ah, there’s the attitude that drew Mahito to Junpei at first. The way he’d spit back at his bullies even when an ass-kicking was imminent. He’d saved Junpei from the gang of his fellow students on a whim, beating them badly enough that they’d been hospitalized for weeks following their attack, and then let Junpei follow him around like a stray until he’d figured out exactly what he wanted from the boy.
Finding out that he was an insecure mess with a soft mouth and untouched little pussy –
Icing on the cake.
Mahito licks his lips. “I guess I could let you get away with keeping this from me,” he says, pretending that he’s making Junpei a deal that he can’t refuse. “But you’re going to do something for me to make up for keeping such a juicy secret. Okay?”
Junpei nods frantically. “Y-yes,” he stammers, clutching at Mahito’s arm and clawing at the tattoos there when the fingers inside of him crook upward and pulse against his g-spot. “A-anything. Wh-whatever you want. What do you want, anyway?”
“Let me put it in,” Mahito replies quickly. “Just the tip. I want to feel you.”
Junpei stiffens in Mahito’s lap. “B-but, Mahito,” he says, voice breathy. “I-I’m not even on birth control. An-and I don’t have any condoms. What if –”
“I won’t come in you,” Mahito promises, the lie tripping easily off of his tongue. “I won’t even go too deep unless you ask me for it for it. And if you tell me to stop well… I’ll do my best.” He presses a kiss to Junpei’s forehead, right above the cluster of scar tissue above his right eyebrow, and then goes for the kill. “Don’t you trust me, Junpei?”
Nodding, Junpei admits, “I do trust you, Mahito,” in a shaky voice that makes Mahito’s dick get even harder.
“That’s good,” Mahito murmurs as he slowly pulls his fingers out of Junpei’s pussy and wipes his fingers over the boy’s trembling inner thigh before shifting him so that they’re facing each other on the couch. Mahito eases off Junpei’s shirt in between deep kisses that leave Junpei’s mouth swollen and his chest heaving. He takes in the sight of his boyfriend’s naked body for the first time, gaze lingering on the faint swell of his chest and those dark nipples he’s only glimpsed when they’d been caught in the rain together.
“This is going to feel so good. I promise.”
Mahito doesn’t try to fuck Junpei on the couch.
There’s enough room and they’d probably both fit, but he has a plan. A plan that requires him to bend Junpei over the low coffee table in front of the couch and fit the head of his dick against Junpei’s pussy.
“Ah – it’s too big,” Junpei moans, pain in his voice as Mahito presses inside of him. He reaches back, fingers grasping desperately at his boyfriend’s hip in an attempt to stop him. “I-it hurts. Take it out, take it out.”
Mahito doesn’t pull out. He pants against the back of Junpei’s head, hips twitching in shallow thrusts that drag the tip of his dick against Junpei’s g-spot. He’s a lot farther in than the tip, but the wet heat sucking him in is too good to resist. Especially when he glances down and sees a smear of crimson on his dick.
“Calm down,” Mahito demands, slipping his right hand down between Junpei’s legs to rub at his clit. “It’ll feel good soon. You’re just… a tight little virgin.”
It takes several long moments of coaxing, of stroking Junpei’s clit and kissing the back of his neck, before Junpei caves and stops struggling underneath the weight of Mahito’s body. He stops trying to push Mahito away and collapses, trembling, against the top of the low table as pained whimpers pour free from his parted lips.
“It still hurts,” Junpei moans, muscles squeezing around Mahito’s dick inside of him despite the pain in his voice “I-I thought you said it’d feel good, Mahito.”
When Mahito looks Junpei, there’s a telltale shimmer of tears on the boy’s cheeks. He wants to lick them away.
Fuck.
Instead, he crowds Junpei further, nuzzling a kiss against the side of Junpei’s face as his dick slides in deeper and deeper. “It will,” Mahito promises. “You said you trusted me –”
Junpei sucks in a sharp breath. “I-I do,” he’s quick to reply. “But… uh – can’t you make it stop hurting faster?” His fingers scrabble over the top of the coffee table, nails scratching uselessly over the wood. More tears spill out from his eyes, trickling down the side of his nose and dripping onto the table.
Mahito groans and his hips piston against Junpei’s ass, finally sinking all the way in until he’s got Junpei stretched out on his dick and squirming. Despite Junpei crying underneath him – literally sniffling and sobbing – his hole grips Mahito’s dick, squeezing him with these sweet little pulses like he’s trying to suck the come right out of Mahito’s body.
“F-fuck,” Mahito groans, grinding into Junpei’s body and wringing a sharp cry from his boyfriend’s slack mouth. “Y-you feel so good, baby.” He gets his hand back on Junpei’s clit, rubbing in tight circles that earn him a low, surprised moan and strong clench of muscles around the girth of his dick. “Come on – mmm – let me feel you come on my dick, Junpei.”
Junpei’s mouth falls open and then he starts letting out these squeaky little moans as Mahito fucks him harder, fucking him across the table until he has to grip the top of the table to keep from being fucked off of it.
“Oh! Oh! Oh,” Junpei bleats, body shaking underneath Mahito’s as he comes, pussy strangling Mahito’s dick. He collapses against the table, twitching as drool puddles underneath his cheek. He’s so out of it, that he barely thinks to demand that Mahito pull out of him. All he can manage is to pant that, “I-it’s n-not a safe day, Mahito. Y-you’ll g-get me pr-pregnant if you come in-inside t-today.”
Mahito groans even louder, hips thrusting harder against Junpei’s ass as he chases his own pleasure. It’s not that he wants to knock Junpei up. Not at all. But the idea of coming inside of Junpei when his boyfriend really doesn’t want it, of filling him up and letting his come drip back out–
“I’ll take care of it,” Mahito promises. “I’ll pay for the pill.”
He’s not lying this time.
Probably.
Junpei flinches when Mahito comes inside of him a few moments later, another one of those little whimpers trickling from his lips as he just kneels there and takes it.
“Can I take a picture,” Mahito asks, already reaching for his cellphone. He pulls up the camera app before Junpei can answer and aims it at where Junpei’s pussy is stretched around his dick, come smeared all over. He takes a video at first, because the camera shutter won’t go off, zooming in at the way Junpei’s pussy clings to him like it doesn’t want to let go as he pulls out.
Then he asks Junpei again. “Lemme take a picture, Junpei,” he coaxes, stroking at Junpei’s side. “Don’t you want to give me something to remember?” He’s already got the camera aimed at the soft gape of Junpei’s pussy, where his hole is dripping come, but he wants to give Junpei the illusion of choice.
At Junpei’s brief nod, Mahito uses the index and middle fingers on his left hand to spread Junpei’s pussy even further open so that he can photograph and record the hole that’d been swallowing him up only a few moments before. When he’s had his fill, and he has Junpei whining with discomfort and shifting away, Mahito tosses the phone aside and pats Junpei’s hip.
“How d’you feel?”
“Sore,” Junpei groans. “You lied, Mahito. It hurt.”
“It won’t hurt next time,” Mahito says, laughing lowly as he pulls Junpei’s body around to sit in his lap, face pressed into Mahito’s throat where he likes to hide under the fall of his hair when overwhelmed. “Next time I’ll stretch you out real good, make you come a couple times first. You liked how it felt in the end, didn’t you?”
At Junpei’s answering nod, Mahito pats his ass again. “Good,” he murmurs. “Now go get the bath ready. I know you’re not going to let me back on the couch until we’re both clean.”
Junpei blinks up at him, his big eyes wide. “Y-you’re not leaving?”
“Your mom’s not coming home for like twelve hours, right?” Mahito asks as if he doesn’t already know the woman’s schedule in deep detail. “That gives us plenty of time to watch your little movie and have another round.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Junpei’s mouth that leaves him squirming atop Mahito’s lap. “You do want to try again, don’t you?”