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Fuma is up far later than he intended, but his entire Pokémon binder needed reworking after his latest haul, plus he got special sleeves for his Eevee collection that he simply didn’t want to wait to put on, which meant re-sleeving several pages, and sure, maybe he likes to look at them and admire them a little bit when they’re in his hand. It’s possibly why he puts so much effort into the photo card pictures they take - he simply understands the appeal of collecting.
By the time he finishes washing up and gets comfortable in bed, the last thing he’s expecting is a phone call.
Earlier, he’d sent Yudai a selfie with a few of his new cards, and sure, he looked good in it (a little collarbone exposure never hurt anybody), but it wasn’t anything crazy. Certainly not anything to warrant a phone call. But his friend (member? long-time crush? teammate? potential situationship?) has been busy filming for a not-so-secret project, which involves him keeping odd hours and the occasional need for outside validation when his imposter syndrome sneaks up on him out of the blue.
So of course Fuma is going to answer, even if he has to be up in - oh god - three and a half hours.
“Kei, it’s late.” Fuma’s voice is a little rough from disuse. He clears his throat.
Only Yudai doesn’t answer.
Fuma checks to make sure his volume is turned up and that’s when he hears the faint rustling of sheets, the almost frustrated little gasps, and an unmistakable sound of skin on skin.
Fuma freezes.
Is Yudai having sex with someone else? His heart starts racing at the thought of it, but no, that’s not what this sounds like at all. Shit, why was he still even holding his phone? He should hang up! But no, Yudai would see the call now. He would know it had gone on for - he checked his screen - almost a minute now. Jesus fucking Christ. He has to let Yudai know, otherwise he has to keep this a secret from him and it’s going to be weird otherwise and - holy hell, was that a whine? He really needs the blood that just started rushing south at that sound to go back wherever it came from, he seriously cannot be getting hard at the noises his, uh, whatever, his Yudai is making on the other end of the line right now.
Before he can stop himself, he starts hollering into the phone, “Yudai? Koga Yudai!” No answer, “Kei, baby, you called me.” The pet name slipped in there so naturally, like it owned the place, or at least like it owned whatever vacuous black hole existed between Fuma’s brain and his mouth currently.
He heard a sort of frantic scrambling noise before Yudai’s strained voice finally came through, “Fuck, Fuma? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I-”
The thing about Koga Yudai is that Fuma isn’t so sure he believes it was an accident. “Just looking at the pic I sent and hit call with those slippery fingers of yours?” He doesn’t know where the urge to tease the man came from, but it rips from his chest like second nature and it’s 3am so what the hell. Fuma is leaning into it.
“Something like that.” Yudai answers breathlessly.
“You sound frustrated, baby.” Fuma switches over to headphones quickly, getting an idea of where he hopes this is going.
“Mmh.” Fuma can almost picture the pout on Yudai’s face when he makes the noise, “I am.”
“Frustrated. Can’t get there on your own. So you called me, didn’t you, honey?” He’s maybe having too much fun with this, but part of him also needs to hear Yudai admit it, given the fact that he lived for nearly a minute of his precious life thinking it was an accident that would change the course of their friend-whatevership permanently, for better or for worse.
“I-”
“Say it, sweetheart.” Fuma cuts him off, “Say it like a good boy and I’ll talk you through it.”
Yudai’s breath stutters over the line and Fuma knows he’s got him, “Fine.” He huffs, “I called because I wanted to,” he lets out another soft whimper, “Saw your picture and wanted to hear your voice.”
“Feeling really flattered that you saw past the cards and were so focused on a little exposed skin that it did it for you.” Fuma beamed.
“Murata Fuma, I have essentially been edging myself for the past ten minutes now, do not make me hang up and call Nicholas right now, I swear to god.”
Nicholas?! Nicholas was his back-up option?! Fuma would unpack that part later. “Hands off of yourself.” He commanded. “Stop touching and let me see how worked up you are, baby. Show me.”
“You’re going to kill me.” Yudai grumbled, but Fuma could hear that his request was being acquiesced, “If you don’t make me cum soon I will dye all your clothes with Skittles.”
Fuma would have retorted but just then the picture came through. He couldn’t help the breathy gasp that escaped at the sight.
Yudai’s free hand was gripping into the soft flesh of his thigh as close to his painfully hard cock as he could get without touching it where it lay flushed and leaking on the soft, smooth skin of his stomach. He wasn’t so worked up that his abs were engaged yet, which made Fuma grin despite himself. He himself was aching in his thin pajama pants, straining against the light blue fabric, begging to be touched. “No touching again until I say so.” He gripped around the lowest part of his shaft, accentuating the outline of his (rather sizeable, thank you very much) cock through the fabric of his pants and took a picture of his own, making sure the small wet patch right at the head could be seen (and yes, he did flex his abs, simply because he was enjoying being a little mean) before sending it, “Look what you’re doing to me, Kei.”
“Hnng, fuck, Fuma, oh my god.” Yudai’s voice pitched up a few octaves at the end. “You’re insane.”
“You like it.”
“I want it.” Yudai corrected, “In me, in my mouth at least, fuck-”
“Slow down, baby, we can get there.” Fuma chuckled, feeling rather fond, “Let’s start with your fingers in your mouth, hm? Have to work you up to being ready for me.” He felt his dick twitch in impatience at the noise his words drew from Yudai’s throat, “Two fingers, get them nice and wet for me.”
“Mmhftph.”
“That’s right, now why don’t you touch that pretty chest of yours, hm? Pretend your fingers are my mouth around your nipple.”
“F-fuuuck.”
“Bet you’re sensitive, aren’t you, angel?”
Yudai could only whimper in reply.
Fuma was getting high off of this. Yudai, normally so prim and more composed when he needed to be than anyone Fuma had ever seen before, falling apart like this just from his voice alone. Yeah. He would probably have to take a hiatus for how big his head was about to get from this phone call. “Back in your mouth now, baby, can’t let you cum just from touching your chest.”
“But-” Yudai whined.
“Not this time, anyway.” Fuma finished.
Yudai let out another muffled noise and Fuma knew he was listening to his instructions well again.
“Slowly trail that hand down between your legs.” Fuma continued, taking a second to pull down his waistband and finally free his aching cock from the confines of his sleep pants. “Past your pretty cock, ‘till you reach your rim.”
“You’re going to hell.” Yudai commented, but there wasn’t any real venom behind his words. He was too breathless, enjoying this far too much to really mean it.
“I’ll be in good company with you there, babe.” Fuma smiled, spitting into his own hand before grasping himself at last, stroking oh so excruciatingly slowly. “Now you can tease yourself there, no fingers inside yet.”
“Fuma, please, are- are you touching yourself, too?” There was a hint of insecurity in Yudai’s voice that made Fuma’s heart clench.
“God, are you joking? Of course I am, gorgeous. How could I not when you look and sound like that? So pretty for me, Kei.”
“You’ve never said.” Yudai whispered.
“I didn’t know I could, honey.” Fuma admitted. “But I will now. If that’s what you want from me.”
“It is,” Yudai sounded resolute. Open and honest in a way he rarely let himself be perceived, “It’s what I’ve wanted the whole time.”
“You have no idea what you do to me, Yudai.” Fuma worked his hand a little faster, knowing he wouldn’t last long now that they were having this conversation. “Spit in your other hand, baby, go ahead and touch yourself.”
Yudai let out a hiss in relief, “F-fuck, Fuma, oh my god. Not gonna last.”
“Say it again.” Fuma demanded, knowing he would follow right behind, “Say my name, Yudai.”
“Fuma, fuck, Fuma, baby, I- I’m coming-” Yudai was practically babbling by then.
“Good boy, I’ve got you, let go for me.”
Fuma heard the last few strained noises and breaths as Yudai finished, the sounds being just enough to send him over the edge as well, a cry of Yudai’s name right on the tip of his tongue, never quite making it past the wall of his lips. A few seconds later, his phone lit up and he checked their text thread to see a photo come through of the mess Yudai had made on his stomach.
“Jesus, Kei, are you trying to get me hard again?” He smiled at the evil laugh Yudai returned on the other line, “Go get cleaned up, I’ll be right here.”
As someone who spent probably an unhealthy amount of time at his gaming desk, Fuma already had wet wipes ready to go by his bedside table, and elected to use those in lieu of getting up to go to the bathroom and clean up. He could shower again tomorrow.
“Fuma?” Yudai’s voice wavered on the other line. Fuma could practically already hear him overthinking everything.
“I’m right here, baby.” He answered, trying to sound reassuring, though he also was admittedly a little concerned for what this meant moving forward.
“Will you stay?” He didn’t have to finish that sentence, Fuma knew what he was asking for.
“Of course, angel.” Fuma reassured, “Don’t overthink it. I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you.” Yudai let out a long breath. “Wish I was there.”
“Me too, Yudai.” Fuma admitted, “Get some rest, you have a big day tomorrow.”
“Mmh.” Yudai didn’t disagree, “Sleep well, Fuma.”
Fuma wouldn’t sleep well. He would lay awake and run every moment of the whole night over and over again in his head, only to fall asleep about half an hour before his alarm went off, of course. Still, at the end of his ruminations, he wasn’t sure he regretted any of it. No matter how things turned out with himself and Yudai after this, he wasn’t sure he would ever fully be able to regret that phone call.