Work Text:
Megumi does not remember exactly when Yuuji became the center of his gravity.
But he’s reminded, in moments like these – undeniably, inexplicably, that the other man is now the very thing around which all his thoughts drift. In the dark of their room, in the comfort of their bed, nothing else exists except the man beneath him, the beautiful sounds he makes, and the little space left between them.
And Yuuji – Yuuji is already trembling.
He’s flushed all the way down his chest, lashes wet at the corners, cheeks stained a lovely, shy shade of pink that matches his hair. His fingers grasp at Megumi’s shoulders, digging in until his nails leave little crescent marks, searching for anything to steady himself, anything to regain some of his usual self-control.
Because Yuuji is never truly helpless. Not in his everyday life, not in battle, not in any situation he’s ever gotten himself into, or been forced into either. But here –lying under Megumi’s body, shuddering under his touch, utterly entwined with him– he comes so devastatingly undone, becomes so wonderfully pliant, that it almost feels like witnessing something impossible.
Something holy.
And Megumi is the only one who gets to see it.
His teeth drag along Yuuji’s jaw, his thrusts lazy and shallow, and Yuuji gasps beneath him, a sound so small and raw that it nearly burns right through his composure. That soft, startled sweetness – like Yuuji has no idea how adored he is, no idea how worshiped. No idea how much he deserves to feel good, too.
It makes Megumi’s chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with lust, and everything to do with pure devotion.
He presses his cock in deeper, groaning quietly at the tight warmth, but keeps his movements painfully slow. All it does is make Yuuji squirm further, fingers digging into Megumi’s shoulders with that same silent desperation that never intends to be demanding, only earnest.
Always earnest. Always giving. Always thinking of others first, always worrying – every breath of Yuuji’s life like an exhale of service, like his sole purpose is bending his spine to meet the needs of others.
But Megumi wants to unbend him. Wants to take that weight and carry it on his own shoulders, again and again, as many times as it takes, until Yuuji finally understands what it’s like to be the one taken care of.
Another soft moan falls from Yuuji’s mouth, and his hips twitch up like he’s trying to escape the pleasure Megumi insists on giving him, even after he’s already cum once across his own stomach. But Megumi catches the movement, one hand pressing flat against Yuuji’s waist, guiding him down again – not harsh, but firm.
“Too much?” Megumi asks, punctuating the words with kisses along his collarbone. He doesn’t even need to hear the answer; he can read it in the way Yuuji’s breathing falters.
Yuuji shakes his head, though – and it’s frantic, and pleading, and thoroughly unconvincing. He’s blushing so hard it’s dizzying, rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed, like his body hasn’t quite learned how to hide anything from the man above him.
“No, I just–” he starts, and it comes out so close to a whine that his cheeks somehow deepen in color with the embarrassment of it. “Just – please.”
That one word –please– really shouldn’t undo Megumi so completely, but it does. It always does. Because Yuuji doesn’t ever beg. Yuuji offers. Yuuji gives. Yuuji lifts, cares, protects – like his heart is trying so desperately, so honestly, to always beat for everyone else.
And Megumi’s own heart can’t stand the thought.
“You don’t know how to be taken care of,” he whispers against Yuuji’s cheek, and doesn’t miss the way the man beneath him shudders. “Let me show you.”
He trails his hand down Yuuji’s side, then over the mess on his stomach, savoring the way the muscle trembles, the way Yuuji can’t stay still beneath the constant attention. Megumi touches him like he’s trying to memorize him, like every square inch of Yuuji’s skin contains a secret that was meant for him alone to learn.
As his hand wanders, he continues grinding his hips, falling into a steady rhythm that makes Yuuji’s voice crack on a moan every time their bodies meet. At one point, Yuuji tries to hide his face – tries to turn away from the intensity of it, the fire of it, burying his cheek into the pillow to muffle the sounds that slip out of him.
But it’s in vain.
“Don’t, my love,” Megumi murmurs, softly scolding. He grabs Yuuji’s chin, fingers sticky, and guides him back firmly, insistently, until their gazes meet again. “I want to see.”
Yuuji tries to reply, but his words dissolve into a breathy groan as Megumi’s hand drops away from his face, sliding down between their bodies. His fingers wrap around Yuuji’s cock, and he gives it a slow, single stroke that has Yuuji arching up with a strangled, almost pained sound.
It’s too much. Way too much. His cock is already flushed, already wet at the tip, already aching from being spent once before – but then Megumi tightens his grip and strokes him again, thumb gliding over the sensitive head, and Yuuji’s hips buck mindlessly despite his reservations.
It’s a sight that Megumi could never tire of. He drinks it in greedily, hungrily, like a man dying of thirst finally finding the one thing he can drown himself in.
“Megumi,” Yuuji whimpers, bringing him back from his thoughts, the name half a gasp – as if Megumi’s nearness alone is too much, too overwhelming, too intimate. His back arches slightly off the mattress again, this time weakly meeting one of Megumi’s thrusts, and he bites back another wrecked groan. “W-wait, I already – I don’t – I – I can’t, please–”
Megumi feels something inside himself break.
He dips his head again, kissing along Yuuji’s jaw, his collarbone, his shoulder – fluttering little kisses that do nothing but spur on the heat he’s trying to stifle behind his own naval.
“You’re too sensitive?” he asks, a little breathless.
And Yuuji nods hard in response this time, eyes wild and frantic, blown dark with something close to panic – but he thrusts up into Megumi’s hand anyway, urgent, needy, shameful in his desire.
It’s answer enough.
The pace Megumi sets is cruel, but it’s full of love. Care. Damning affection. The best way he knows how to give.
His hand moves with slow precision along Yuuji’s length, squeezing at the base, sliding up the shaft in time with his thrusts. While he works, he tips his head back down, capturing the other man in a kiss – open-mouthed, all-consuming. Their lips move in a messy, breathless rhythm, with Yuuji moaning into it every time Megumi’s grip tightens, every time Megumi’s thrusts hit that beautiful, sinful spot inside of him.
Eventually, Yuuji tries to pull back, tries to gasp for air, or ask for mercy, or collect his racing thoughts – but Megumi just follows his mouth. He kisses him again, rougher this time, more insistent, chasing every desperate noise that Yuuji makes as he jerks wildly under the touch.
When he finally ends the kiss, it’s just barely; his mouth ghosts over Yuuji’s, their breaths mingling warm and unsteady between them.
“You’re doing so well,” Megumi whispers against his lips, letting the praise bleed out into every syllable. “You always do.”
Yuuji shudders, the blush deepening across his skin.
It’s almost obscene, the tenderness of it. The pure honesty. The sheer, unbearable gentleness of giving, of touching for no reason other than to show Yuuji he’s something precious, something good, something worthy–
Megumi kisses down his neck, savoring every twitch, every shaky exhale he earns in response. He doesn’t want to rush this. Doesn’t want it to ever end, and doesn’t intend to let it any time soon. He just wants – he needs, with a visceral fierceness that burns like fire, for Yuuji to finally see. To understand.
To know that someone can give and give and give to him.
Because he deserves it.
Mercifully, Megumi finally takes his hand away from Yuuji’s cock, placing it instead on the bed for leverage. But the relief only lasts on Yuuji’s face for a split second before it’s contorting back into twisted pleasure, and Megumi’s thrusts grow faster, less deliberate, less controlled.
Just for a minute. He can’t help it.
Not when his beautiful Yuuji, his strong, talented Yuuji, is writhing beneath him – begging for more, begging for less, begging for anything to clear his foggy mind. Yuuji’s fingers slide from Megumi’s shoulders to his back, his nails digging into flesh as he frantically tries to ground himself.
“I – I can’t–” Yuuji chokes out, as Megumi shifts his angle just slightly. “It’s – too much, too much, I–”
Megumi lifts his head, hair falling messily across his face, damp with sweat. He rocks back on his heels, pulling almost all the way out, until the head of his cock catches just on the rim of sensitive muscle. Yuuji chokes out another plea, another curse, eyes rolling back as his fingers scramble for purchase.
“I know,” Megumi groans, hips painfully still now, and the restraint it takes nearly has his vision blacking at the edges. He raises his hand to Yuuji’s face again, his thumb wiping at the wetness slipping down Yuuji’s cheeks. “Just let me.”
And then, without warning, he thrusts his cock all the way back in to the hilt, tilting his hips just the way he knows Yuuji loves.
Yuuji cries out, a strangled sound he tries to stifle but can’t – and Megumi is right there, leaning in, stealing it away with a kiss and swallowing it whole. His legs clamp tighter around Megumi’s waist, heels digging into his lower back, every movement torn between leaning into or away from the touch.
“I want to give you everything,” Megumi breathes against Yuuji’s lips, never slowing, never relenting, ignoring the wave of pleasure that rolls down his own spine. His cock aches, it fucking aches, and Yuuji takes it so beautifully, so perfectly–
Megumi groans, pulling back just slightly, attempting to collect himself. This isn’t about him. It never has been.
It’s always been about Yuuji.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he mumbles, half beside himself, and it comes out filled with something painfully close to awe.
Yuuji whimpers like the words hurt. His eyes widen, glassy and overwhelmed. He tries to speak again, tries to say anything, but it just dissolves into another gasp as Megumi’s hips roll into him with an increasing, demanding rhythm. One meant to unravel, not destroy.
But Yuuji’s already unraveling, as much as he fights it.
His hands shake where they dig into Megumi’s skin. His chest rises and falls too rapidly. Every motion, every whisper, every sinfully gentle touch has his body tightening around the other man. He’s not used to this, doesn’t know how to handle it – being held, being wanted, being the center of someone’s everything.
Megumi can feel it. Can feel it, can taste it, can see it written across every inch of Yuuji’s flushed skin. He still doesn’t understand, still doesn’t believe it, still doesn’t know what it means to be cared for in all the right ways–
“Let me,” Megumi whispers, pressing in deeper, closer, the words nothing more than a kiss against Yuuji’s temple.
He slides his hand back down between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Yuuji’s cock once more; the strokes are rougher this time, more harsh, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. It’s almost cruel how controlled it is, how patient.
Yuuji back arches sharply, his hands flying to Megumi’s hair, tugging fiercely at the dark strands. Tears slip down his cheeks as he sobs into Megumi’s neck – panicked, frustrated, helpless in a way he’s so unused to.
“Please,” he gasps, like it’s one of the only words he has left, hips still weakly rising to meet the other man’s thrusts as if acting on instinct alone.
“What is it, my love?” Megumi breathes out. “What do you need?”
But Yuuji can only shake his head in response – flushed, and lost, and trying so hard to find the words that seemingly keep slipping through his fingers.
“I – I don’t know,” he manages to stammer through his tears, choking around the lump in his throat. “It’s just – it’s – oh god, I–” His voice breaks off into a groan as Megumi shifts the angle of his hips, driving his cock in just a little bit deeper, a little bit faster.
Megumi can feel the tremor that runs through his body, can feel the way he tightens–
It’s perfect. Yuuji’s perfect.
Yuuji’s everything, he thinks. Everything he was ever meant to hold, to shield, to keep safe and warm and–
“Megumi–!” Yuuji pleads. “W-wait, I told you, I – I can’t–”
“You can,” Megumi murmurs against his ear, his own voice trembling with restraint. “I’ve got you.”
And he doesn’t slow down, hips snapping at a pace that’s turning more brutal by the second. It has Yuuji’s whole body convulsing, thighs tightening, hands gripping Megumi’s hair so hard it hurts. His breathing is ragged, choked, a mixture of absolute pleasure and disbelief.
“I can’t–”
Megumi kisses down his throat, nipping softly at his pulse point until Yuuji lets out another breathless moan.
“Yes,” he insists, “you can.”
He pulls Yuuji impossibly closer, his free hand sliding behind his back, lifting his hips just enough to angle him perfectly. The next thrust makes Yuuji cry out, head falling back, mouth open, eyes blurry and unfocused.
“Let me,” Megumi repeats, fighting the way his own body is threatening to shake. The words are soft, and commanding, and a vow all in one. “Let me take care of you, Yuuji. Let me show you how it feels.”
And Yuuji finally does.
He breaks.
He nods his head rapidly, without thought, without hesitation, finally giving himself permission to feel, to take, to receive – without guilt, or restraint, or worry there to hold him back–
So Megumi slows down.
Just for a moment, just so the feeling really sinks in.
It’s enough to make Yuuji whimper in frustration – a broken, needy sound that nearly undoes Megumi entirely right then. He takes Yuuji into another kiss, shushing him, and Yuuji moans into his mouth, giving himself over, the fight in his gut finally fizzling out. His cock throbs in Megumi’s hand, leaking over his long fingers, every stroke caught somewhere between torture and bliss.
“You always give everything,” Megumi murmurs, gradually increasing his speed again as he speaks, hand and hips moving in time, the bed beneath them creaking in protest. “Always put yourself last,” he continues, breathless and wrecked in his own way. “Always think about everyone else first.”
He squeezes the base of Yuuji’s cock, probably a little too tightly – but the moan he earns in response only spurs him on. His hips snap forward, driving into Yuuji at a pace that he knows he can’t keep up for long – but the sounds Yuuji makes beneath him, so beautiful and raw and open – he thinks maybe, just maybe, he could do this forever–
“I – Please, wait, I’m gonna–” Yuuji chokes out. “Please, please, wait – please–!”
“Never taking care of yourself,” Megumi groans, his head falling forward to rest on Yuuji’s shoulder. “So let me do it.”
Yuuji lets out a broken sob that sounds like it might have been Megumi’s name. He tries to say something else, but Megumi just shushes him sweetly, lovingly, and whispers into his ear:
“I’ve got you.”
It comes out like a promise, like an undeniable truth – and his thrusts turn painfully harsh, desperate to drown Yuuji in a pleasure that he doesn’t have to earn for once.
And it rips something out of Yuuji. He cries out, clinging – arms wrapping tightly around Megumi’s neck, body shaking with the overstimulation. His breath comes out in shattered little gasps and hiccups as Megumi keeps moving inside him, keeps whispering against his skin, keeps offering him all the things he could never ask for.
It’s all too much.
He spills hot and helpless over Megumi’s hand with a fractured cry, his body arching off the bed, legs trembling uncontrollably. The climax hits him so hard it seems to knock the air out of him – weak, shaking spurts that paint Megumi’s fingers and his lower abdomen, mixing with the release already there. Yuuji absolutely sobs through it, choking on a pleasure so blinding that it almost seems painful.
Maybe it is.
But Megumi gives it to him, and so he takes it.
He barely has time to think before Megumi crashes their mouths back together, never relenting, never stopping, not even as Yuuji falls apart in his arms.
Megumi swallows every whimper, every shuddering exhale, his hand on Yuuji’s cock still stroking – lightly, slowly, coaxing him through the waves. Just enough to make Yuuji whine, to make him twitch, to make him weakly tug at Megumi’s shoulders as if asking him to stop and begging him not to all in the same motion.
And Megumi doesn’t stop.
Doesn’t stop kissing him. Doesn’t stop touching him. Doesn’t stop moving inside him – measured, controlled, intimate enough to keep Yuuji floating in the aftermath for as long as possible. And Yuuji just sobs softly against his mouth through it all, a mixture of curses and pleas, an endless mantra of Megumi and yes and thank you and pleasepleaseplease – exhausted, overwhelmed, far beyond his limits.
“Let me take care of you,” Megumi murmurs against him between bruising kisses, quieting his cries.
“Breathe, Yuuji,” he says.
“You’re safe.”
“I’ve got you.”
“Just let me.”
Yuuji nods feverishly, drunkenly, his eyes shining with a devastating kind of wonder – and the only real response that leaves him is a crushed little exhale that sounds an awful lot like surrender.
So Megumi captures his lips again – slowly, sweetly. Full of love.
And gives him more.