stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

[ Akira considers stating the obvious -- that mouths can do a lot more than they are right now -- but he swallows the words down, because when it comes to actual intimacy Akechi is like a terrified rabbit three seconds away from dying of heart attack. ]

Sorry. [ Akira lets his hand leave Akechi's hip to drift up to his face, instead, dragging his thumb across Akechi's jawline and inspecting his lips. ]

It's a little automatic. Touching you always feels nice.

[His lower lip is already a little red, but not quite swollen, and he mostly just looks baffled that Akira is apologizing, and then a little annoyed.] So I've gathered, but I didn't expect the... [He gestures more with his chin and looking over his shoulder at his own hip than anything else, and then settles, laying his head on Akira's shoulder.]

...I expected to hate the fact that I have to touch you so much a lot more than I do.

[ Akira's smile is a little lopsided, but he slips his hand back up to splay across Akechi's back again, tracing small circles on the base of his spine. ]

I want it to feel good when I touch you. For both of us, I mean. [ Even when it hurts, because he, of all people, understands that the pleasure/pain receptors in both of them are -- misfiring, as a general rule. ]

It's just that we're both terrible at talking about things, so it's easier to show you like this. [ To show Akechi how much he wants him. ]

Are you being intentionally suggestive with that statement, or am I just still stuck on the fact that you just dry-humped me from below? [His tone is dry, but not venomous, and he's definitely still settled against him, eyes closing over at the resumed focus on his spine. He hums, then, affirmatively, opening his eyes to look up at him, a touch glazed.]

...I think it's less you're terrible about talking about it and I'm terrible at listening. You've done your part, on the front of... this, I guess. [He flicks his wrist idly to gesture between them, "this" meaning whatever not-dating status they've entered.]

So. I was thinking. [ Akira says, and then drags his fingers up Akechi's spine carefully. ]

Since you're bad at talking, but you want me to push you -- and I want to be able to push you -- I think we should have something you can do. So.

[ Akira pulls his fingers up, then presses one of them down, deliberately, on the notch of Akechi's spine. ] "Keep going." [ He pushes a second down. ] "Slow down". [ And then, a third. ] "Stop".

[It's always a little unsettling when Akira announces he's thinking.]

[This... this is a particularly unsettling thought that he's sharing. Akechi's spine straightens immediately at the single finger pressed to the notch of one of his vertebrae, startled and pulling taut like a puppet on a string, and doesn't relax at the second or third finger, just blinks owlishly at nothing. One for keep going, two for slow down, three for stop. Does he mean one tap, two taps, three taps, or the number of fingers? The specifics of keep going, slow down and stop send a startled thrill down to his toes from where Akira's fingers press against his spine, and he slowly pans his eyes over to look at him without shifting his head much.] What are you insinuating?

[ Akira presses down, his whole hand flat. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't have to. ]

You want me to hurt you, sometimes. You want to be hurt. And... [ Akira takes a deep breath, because this kind of honesty is the kind that anyone else might reject him for. The kinds of things he likes aren't the kinds of things you talk about in polite company. ]

I like it. When I can see a bruise I put on your skin, or see you pressing on a mark I left. But I don't want to hurt you more than either of us are prepared for. I don't want to move fast enough to injure either of us.

[His jaw slackens so his lips fall just barely apart, and he looks through Akira for a moment. You want me to hurt you, sometimes. Yes, he does. He wants Akira to lash out and rage at him, to put him in his place, to...]

[I like it isn't expected at all, and his eyes widen just enough, his eyebrows creasing his forehead as they raise, to be a noticeably startled expression. He shifts to lay his weight against the bruise on his stomach, letting his features pull into the slightest grimace as he does.] ...tapping would be more effective. If you can't see my fingers it might be difficult to tell how many I've put down.

[A beat, and he pulls in a short breath, not quite a gasp but enough that this close, Akira would hear it, and he looks at Akira with a stunned expression.] ...I didn't peg you for being interested in sadomasochism.

[ Akira's face quirks into a smile at Akechi's surprise, because he can't fathom how Akechi didn't peg that already given everything else -- but it's probably because Akira's been nothing but nice, for the most part. ]

I like leaving my mark on you. I like when you leave yours on me. When we fought in Mementos, that one time -- you landed a couple good hits on me, do you remember? One was on my back, and I felt it whenever I sat down. [ Akira had jerked off to it way more than he wanted to admit, given he had the glove and Akechi's entire speech and then everything had gone to shit, but. ]

I like thinking about it being the same for you.

Tapping works, though.

[His expression pulls into more of a grimace for a moment and he starts to shake his head, starts to disagree, but once he thinks about it...] ...I'm currently laying my weight on the bruise on my stomach from yesterday, I think that's at least somewhat telling.

[He sits up a little again, angling himself so he keeps said weight on the bruise but can look at him easier.] I've only been alive and in your life again three and a half days, and you're already... [He shakes his head.] Let's say I agree to this-- the tapping would only apply when tapping you, specifically. I tap my fingers on things and together as a measure of my heartbeat or just an unconscious motion, as well. Don't get them confused. ["Let's say I agree" when he literally just did.]

I know. If it's more than three, I'll assume it's unconscious. [ Akechi tapped their hands when they were holding them yesterday, after all -- Akira thinks he can tell the difference between things like that. He hopes he can, at least. ]

But I'm trusting you. [ Akira says it with a little more weight to it, because he's trusting Akechi with Akechi, which is a far more terrifying prospect. ]

If you let me go too far, I'll be upset afterwards. I want you to be able to stop me.

[He looks a bit faraway again, but nods.] Understand that you're trusting me when I am not always aware of what is "how far", even for myself.

[Which is to say, he'll probably oblige him? But also he might not.]

I know. We're going... we're both going to misjudge things, in the beginning. [ Akira knows it's going to be hard, at first; he thinks there's going to be a lot of hurt feelings and getting stuck in their own heads for awhile.

But it's a start. ]

But I want you more than I've ever wanted anything before.

[It's the last bit that makes him squirm, pressing down against him to make pain throw little sparks into the corners of his vision. It also reads a bit like he's grinding down on him.] ...you have horrible taste.

[ There's a moment where Akira's breathing stutters and he inhales sharply, his hand flattening out -- to keep Akechi where he is? To keep him from moving? To press him further forward? It's hard to say. ]

Umeboshi. [ Akira offers, again, and then drags Akechi back up to kiss him again. Their hour isn't up and Akira intends to make the most of it, and there's no hesitation or build-up this time, his tongue seeking out Akechi's before he can even think about it. ]

[Akechi's breath does similar before it's stolen by Akira's mouth, and he meets him with a similar fervor, though possibly more curious than as lethally hungry as Akira. He bites Akira's lower lip again and scoffs into his mouth once he's figured out why he just named a food prior to licking into his mouth like a starving animal, but he doesn't let it distract him.]

[ Akira feels like he could devour Akechi if he isn't careful. If they aren't both careful. But Akechi said to push him; there's a system in place--

Akira is absolutely not going to try and have sex with Akechi for the first time when Leblanc is open downstairs, but god if he doesn't want to engage in some particularly inappropriate handsy behavior. He stays where they are for a moment, and then, after a contemplation that's shortened by the feeling of Akechi's lips on his --

He flips them, hard enough to take the breath out of both of their lungs. He cascades them over until he's bracketing Akechi on the bed, and he breaks the kiss but only so he can breathe into Akechi's neck, pressing in with lips and teeth while his hand finds the bruise he'd left on Akechi's stomach. ]

[He feels a bit like his head is threaded onto his body like a screw, and it's loose and spinning looser by the second. Akira's suggestion of what amounts to a safe word but with action keeps him keyed up and anxious for what he'll do next--]

[--and when the world suddenly flips and he's on his back, at first all he can do is wheeze because the air is knocked clear from his lungs. He thinks he may have shouted briefly, but isn't sure, because all he knows right now is Akira, all five senses flooded by him. When the kiss is broken he can only try to draw in more air than his shocked lungs will allow, until Akira is pressed to his neck with his mouth, and a hand puts pressure on the bruise on his stomach.]

[He gasps then, a sharp intake of breath that makes his lungs burn alongside the harsher burn bleeding outward from Akira's hand, radiating and making his fingertips go numb. It's a lot, but he can't tell if it's too much, so when he reaches out with one hand he just finds the sleeve of Akira's shirt and holds onto it, making a thin, high sound, mindful of his volume for the man downstairs trying to run a cafe.]

[ Akira waits when he feels the fingers on his shirt, but there's no tapping, just that desperate clinging accompanied by the sound of Akechi keening, too high and too much and everything all at once. It's overwhelming and addictive at the same time, and Akira gives them both a chance to breathe for a few seconds before he starts again, dragging his lips across Akechi's neck. He reaches up, presses his other hand against Akechi's mouth -- he loves hearing every noise he makes but not now when getting caught is a quiet thrill and a dull terror in equal parts. Once that's accomplished, he leans in to sink his teeth onto Akechi's collarbone. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to raise a welt to the surface, to leave a mark even after their hour is up.

He doesn't move his legs, save to bracket Akechi's like he's trapping him there -- he isn't, but he thinks the effect is better, and it's keeping him from acting on his desire to slip a knee between Akechi's thighs.

Too much, too fast, and not enough all at once. ]

[He considers biting Akira's hand when it comes up to cover his mouth, but it's functional so he leaves it be. He's thankful for it a moment later when the bite to his collarbone makes him squirm and another pitchy sound to burst forth from his throat, and he pulls on the sleeve of Akira's shirt. Still no tapping, just holding, just pulling, and a dull voice in the back of his head wonders if he should tap twice to tell him to keep going or if Akira is smart enough to get the picture.]

[He wants to laugh, a little, because he employed the tapping system under the pretense of Akechi not being able to speak, only to cover his mouth and render him unable. Maybe it was a test of the trust he claimed, trusting Akechi to tap him in place of using his voice while he was still lucid enough to use it.]

[ Akira is hyperaware of Akechi's grip, keeping it in mind and making sure it doesn't transition to tapping. He's certain that it will, because Akira thinks he's going to force it. It depends on which one of them gives first, but the sheer want of the situation is building in Akira's chest, dropping low heat into his stomach, and he feels like he doesn't want to hold back.

He feels like he doesn't have to hold back, save for the fact that Leblanc is open downstairs, the muted rumble of a coffee grinder going off periodically as Sojiro serves himself an IV drip of caffeine.

So Akira doesn't stop.

He presses his lips to the minor wound he's just made, worrying at the spot, making it more pronounced without actually adding to any of the pain of it. His fingers loosen on Akechi's mouth, thumb tracing across Akechi's bottom lip almost absently. ]

[Akira's fussing over the welt on his skin from his mouth makes Akechi roll his eyes just barely, growling behind Akira's hand just as he loosens his grip across his jaw and thumbs at his lip, instead.]

It doesn't count as matching if we are both conscious for my bruises, [His voice is a breathy disaster, but dropped low in his chest anyway, quiet and rumbling. He means, of course, that Akira could trail marks across his throat if he wanted, akin to the hand marks slowly purpling on Akira's throat. He's not sure if Akira would have wanted him to consent to that, for as bizarrely fussed as he is about making sure Akechi isn't being forced into anything.]

[To prove a point, he impatiently taps once against Akira's arm, nipping at the tip of his thumb. Keep going, you thirsty fool.]

Edited 2021-04-09 23:52 (UTC)

[ Akira groans at that, because he doesn't need the encouragement but it's a lot to think about. Akechi's already under him, flushed and breathy, and it's already ticking off so many things that Akira has wanted but it isn't nearly enough.

So Akira does, presses a kiss to Akechi's neck before he bites, before he leaves marks that trail underneath where the hoodie might hide unless it shifts just right. They both have concealer now, but Akira thinks that neither of them particularly want to conceal this anymore, and the idea of other people seeing makes his stomach twist into a hot knot that he knows he won't be able to undo.

It's nice to know that if he bites too hard -- and he does, here and there -- that Akechi likes it. And if Akira's knee really does start to press up in between Akechi's thighs, well. ]

[He's dully impressed with himself for letting this happen. Because he does like it-- the kisses that morph into bites, the way he can feel him pulling blood toward the surface so they bruise a deep purplish burgundy, the way he could only hide them completely with very precise concealer or a scarf. A particular bite has him shifting unconsciously, writhing on the futon beneath Akira and exhaling in a rush of air that he has to consciously keep sound out of. The hand not braced on Akira's arm finds and kneads at the sheets, grasping and pulling for some sort of constant motion.]

[Akira's knee draws a gasp out of him and he goes tense and still, uncertain and letting his heartbeat flood his ears. He allowed for this, he started this by challenging Akira with a time limit. Akira said he was trusting him to stop if he needed, but does he, really? If he instigated, doesn't that mean he really just wants it after all?]

[ Akira hears the gasp -- and then feels the way Akechi tenses underneath him. He reaches out, slips his fingers into Akechi's palm, disguises the way he checks his racing pulse by holding his hand instead, and then exhales, slowly, pressing open-mouthed kisses along all the marks he's left across Akechi's neck.

Then he pushes himself up, slightly, looks down at Akechi with a face that's flushed and still --

concerned. ]

You're going somewhere without me again. [ Not literally. But he can tell when Akechi is stuck in a thinking loop. ]

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this icon sort of works,

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