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The months they spent in the underground shelter together became a blur at some point.
It only took one day to change their relationship yet again, and for almost two years when they weren’t eating or walking around the endless corridors of the facility, they were going at it in their narrow, uncomfortable beds. Pushed together to give them more room, the cheap metal frames creaking and scraping against the concrete floor.
And it wasn’t even like Keisuke was always the one to initiate it. More often than not, it was Akira who would bluntly kiss him after waking him up from yet another nightmare, making him calm down; or reach for the hem of his pants when he noticed that Keisuke once again was hard after watching him dress, or undress, or after having bathed together in the communal baths. It didn’t always lead to full on sex. More often than not, they’d give each other a handjob while making out or just grind against each other.
Keisuke sometimes wondered if Akira only did it for his sake during their time at the shelter. Compared to his own overactive libido and boundless energy that made his entire body itch with the urge to move in some way that usually only subsided once he just ran for miles on the treadmill in the gym room, Akira, though he very much seemed to get into it, just seemed to not be overly… well, horny.
Truth be told, that kind of made Keisuke feel guilty. He wanted to say that he was smart enough not to tell Akira that, not wanting to upset him or piss him off by insinuating that Akira WAS only really doing it for his sake, but sometimes it did make him feel that way.
Was Akira the type to do that? Not really, no. If he truly wasn’t in the mood, he was brutally honest about it. He’d push him away and tell him that, no, he didn’t want to do it. Sometimes, he’d snap at him before hesitating and rephrasing it with a “Not now.”
Of course, Keisuke was fine with that, no matter how needy he was in that moment.
He only vaguely remembered what happened after he first used Line. Between his nightmares adding new things on to it, it all was a mess of blood and gore to him. Only one thing he was certain about, and that was that he had truly hurt Akira.
But yet, Akira was still here with him. Accepting him, fully.
It couldn’t be fully pleasant for Akira, though.
As careful as he tried to be, and despite the saliva and pre-cum – and cum, usually, after giving him head – easing the friction, he was almost painfully tight, even when he relaxed. He could hear him moan underneath him, heard his name said in that uncharacteristic, high-pitched voice; between voice cracks, gasps and whines, could see him come undone from getting fucked and yet; something inside of him could just think about how much it had to hurt sometimes, and that usually was the thing that made him want to stick with handjobs for the next week or two before they tried again.
But Akira, more often than not, embraced him readily, hiding any pain he felt. As much as he'd usually try to hide how he felt, Keisuke was good at reading his expressions.
He could see him screw his eyes shut in pain when he entered him sometimes, heard the hiss of pain soon to be replaced by all those sweet noises spilling out.
And afterward, more often than not, Akira would let himself be embraced, even putting his own arms around him. There was no resistance in those moments, as if Akira wanted to be held as much as he wanted to hold him. They'd usually fall asleep after that, and after that, it was the same as always.
Even after they were transferred to a different part of the shelter about five months in, with Akira’s name being cleared once Emma’s involvement had come to light and the two of them being able to join the “regular” crowd, they kept up their scheidule.
Wake up, eat, wander around the facility, bathe, make out, repeat. There were little variations, but in essence, their days boiled down to that. It was oddly comforting to stick to that sort of routine.
And it was good to be with each other. For the first time in a long time, Keisuke felt kind of at peace.
---
They deemed them eligible to leave the shelter and move back to the surface after before the war had officially ended, just slightly under two years after their escape from Toshima. The CDC, despite having had the upper hand at first, was being held back by the countries allied with Nikkouren. Aside from Toshima there were no active war zones as of now and ceasefire was called out while the leaders were negotiating terms.
All in all, as able-bodied young men, the higher-ups said it was alright for them to leave and they took that offer.
With Keisuke having some work experience from his time in the factory, he had been approached about a job while in the shelter. It came with housing in a nearby building and while Akira, his name cleared or not, still had to go through questioning for his record to be wiped clean, he could live with him, and start training for the same job the moment all the bureaucratic mess was dealt with.
It was December afternoon, a few weeks before Akira’s birthday, when they first stood before the drab building annexed to the repair shop he’d work at for the foreseeable future. Two stories tall, their own apartment being of the top ones. Probably built after the Third Division, though it looked like it was older. Neither of them had had a chance to look at it before coming here but neither of them really cared. It was just nice to be outside again.
And to live together with Akira. In an actual apartment.
He could feel and see his fingers shaking as he turned the key in the lock. It wasn’t like he had never done it, he had lived on his own back in the CSC too, but this was to be the first time he’d share an apartment with Akira. It wasn’t his home.
It was theirs.
The lock gave a click as it opened and Keisuke still felt weird when he pushed the door open.
It wasn’t like the shelter or their old places at all. A little bigger than the room they shared underground, and a little bigger still than the standard apartments in the CDD, at least from what he could see as he stepped inside. Angling his body a bit so the rolled up futon he held under his arm and the gym bag filled with their belongs dangling from his elbow weren’t too in the way, he let Akira, carrying pretty much the same things, enter too. Still, after toeing off their shoes, they all but crab-walked out of the entrance, past the bathroom and the kitchenette, turning on the light on the way, until they could finally dump all the stuff they were holding in the main room.
“Whew,” Keisuke heard himself sigh as he stretched his arms, a bit numb from the uncomfortable position they’d been in. Akira did the same, though he didn’t comment on it, and instead went to open the window.
As cold as it was outside, this place was in dire need of some fresh air. Keisuke almost stumbled over the small kerosene heater – one of the very few items in the room – as he went back to the door, closing it.
“It’s not bad,” Akira said once Keisuke was back. His expression was neutral, but his voice sounded just a little more content than the matter-of-fact statement in itself. And he was already walking around the room, opening the storage closet and all the cupboards, until he spotted the broom leaning against the bathroom door. He grabbed it, sweeping the slightly dusty floor.
When he looked more closely, he could see the edge of exhaustion in Akira’s face, not that he was showing much. He probably just wanted to put down the futons and relax for a bit. God knows they had done a lot of that in the past couple months.
Not one to keep him waiting, Keisuke picked up the low table and the three floor cushions in the middle of the room, putting them in the corner for now. As he grabbed the heater, Akira looked up.
“I saw a can of kerosene in the closet.”
His eyes rested on him for a bit longer and as Keisuke gently shook the heater to feel the liquid in the tank slosh around with the movement, he looked over to the still somewhat rolled up futons.
“Do we need to get tatami mats for these?”
Neither of them had slept on a futon since their time in the orphanage. Keisuke couldn’t even remember when he last saw a room with tatami flooring. That kind of thing had become rare in the more populated parts of the country, even before the war.
The laminate underneath his feet felt smooth, the cold seeping through his socks. It probably would be okay to put down their futons like that, if they just aired them out again. They hadn’t really said much at the shelter as they requested them, knowing that their new place wouldn’t have a bed, either.
Putting the heater back down, he shrugged, stepping out of the way so Akira could sweep the part of the room he was in.
“Dunno… I guess it should be fine like this for now?” he finally replied, unrolling both futons, first shaking them out, then doing the same to the comforters. For some reason, as he put them down on the floor, his hands tensed up. It was really starting to sink in now. He would share an apartment with Akira. Not a room in an underground shelter, and actual apartment. Like a real… couple.
He swallowed, hard, and put the futons down down next to each other. They had shared their beds so much in those past two years, but still, doing this felt oddly intimate, too intimate, almost. But it was as if there was no other way to do it. It felt natural.
Another part of his mind tried to rationalize it with “it’s cold out” and “it’s a small room” but for the most part, he just couldn’t imagine sleeping apart from him anymore.
With how small this place was, Akira finished up sweeping in a matter of a couple minutes, leaning the broom against the closet. Then he kneeled down next to Keisuke, unzipping their two bags.
“It’s pretty clean,” he said, pulling out a few solids and tossing Keisuke a green curry one before taking an omurice one for himself. “Guess they cleaned it before we got here.”
He was right. From how run-down the building looked from the outside, the inside was pretty comfortable. There was no mold from what he could see, and despite the laminate having some chips and scuffs, it was in a great condition. Nothing like the concrete boxes back in the CDC. Granted, he hadn’t taken a closer look at the bathroom or kitchenette yet, but honestly, he was just excited to have a bathroom he didn’t have to share with a dozen other people again.
If anything, mold or chipped paint or a leaky faucet was nothing to worry about. They’ve been through worse. This place was fancy compared to the other places they’ve lived in.
“Yeah. I’m gonna check if everything’s alright, but it’s… nice,” Keisuke finally replied, getting up from his half-crouch he’d been in, closing the window. The room was cold, but it was in a pleasant way.
The shelter had been perfectly temperature controlled. Every single day, no matter if it was summer or winter, the rooms and hallways would be pleasant to walk around in just pants and a light t-shirt. Every night, they’d turn down the temperature by a few degrees. Even the humidity was perfectly adjusted to be just pleasant but not noticeable. Light and air circulation, too.
It was supposed to feel good, but days, weeks, months of the same thing would eventually dull anyone’s body.
Underneath his clothes, he knew his skin was covered in goosebumps. Right now, he was still enjoying the cold, eventually, he’d have to turn on that heater, though…
Unceremoniously, Keisuke sat down on one of the futons – the one with the blue and white comforter, the one with the orange one was, in his mind, obviously for Akira – and picked up the solid, turning it in his hands. The restlessness he usually felt if he hadn't moved around much was making his muscles twitch slightly, eager to do something, anything.
“Do you want me to turn on the heater now? Or do you want to finish-” Keisuke gestured around with one hand, at the bags with their belongings and the general area of the room. “- I guess, setting up the room first?”
Akira, still kneeling, moved over, plopping down next to him. In this cold room, he could feel the warmth coming from his body and Keisuke, who had spent the past two years attached to his hip, had to swallow.
Their knees were touching and Keisuke’s grip on the solid tightened.
“It's fine. We can turn it on later. It's nice. Kind of.”
He thought he’d unwrap his solid and start eating, but just like him, he was just holding it. Akira was looking at the fridge, as if he didn’t want to meet Keisuke’s eyes. For a moment, they both just sat like this, and it felt as if those two years of their relationship just hadn’t happened. As if they hadn’t constantly been all over each other.
Wanting to get rid of that nagging feeling of sudden unfamiliarity he put one hand on Akira’s knee, feeling it twitch at the sudden touch.
And finally, he turned his head, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Surprised, maybe a little annoyed. Maybe even comforted?
Keisuke had spent his entire life trying to figure Akira out, and he’d say he was pretty good at it. This time, he felt stumped, until his face softened again.
Akira didn’t smile a whole lot, but his usually sharp eyes would lose just some of their edge and his eyebrows would relax. Sometimes, a smile followed. This wasn’t one of those times, but it still put him at ease. Even in this new place, Akira was by his side and accepted him.
“I’m glad we have our own place now,” he said and leaned in to kiss him. Akira seemed surprised but didn’t turn his face away, angling it a bit instead and leaning into the kiss too. It was short and chaste, but as they pulled away, both of them hesitated for a moment. Just a few inches apart, they looked at each other, before Akira averted his eyes, swallowing hard. It made Keisuke grab the hand closer to his own, intertwining their fingers.
"Me too," Akira said, voice a bit muted, lacking it's usual bluntness. His hand felt cold against Keisuke's, and he just wanted to warm it, despite enjoying the coolness. He felt a light squeeze as Akira moved his hand a little, allowing him to grab it better.
His pale cheeks were pink, and Keisuke couldn't help kissing him again.
It was all chaste, nothing compared to what they've done before but, at the same time, it made Keisuke's head feel light. They kissed again, and again, chaste each time, as if to test the waters in this new situations.
For a moment, Akira pulled away again. He opened his mouth, closed it again. A little noise caught in his throat. Wanting to say something that just wouldn't come out. Finally, he met Keisuke's eyes again, and his expression was more determined.
"I'm glad that we're here. Together."
Keisuke's heart skipped a beat.
Over the years, Akira had gotten better at voicing these kinds of things. It was still embarrassing to him, he could see the blush on his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears, but he had said it. And knowing Akira, it was the truth.
He felt all cold for a moment, then all hot, and then his brain just felt empty. Again, he leaned in, fast enough to almost knock him over. There was some tension, at first, but Akira let himself fall back onto the futons, breaking the kiss to click his tongue.
"Dumbass," he said without a shred of venom in his voice, keeping his arms to his sides so Keisuke could straddle him. And so he did, putting his knees on either of Akira's sides and lowering his body. The awkwardness of the situation was still there, but slowly, it was fading. They had done this before countless times.
And as always, Akira accepted him.
Those cool hands were put on his back, one colder than the other, and he could feel them even through the layers of clothing as he looking down at Akira, not being able to help the lopsided smile on his face.
"Yeah, I am," he replied, still straddling him as he kissed him again.
He was overwhelmed, in a way. Here he was, in his apartment that he would share with Akira, the one person he'd loved his entire life. So many things had happened, bad things, worse things, but they were both here, alive and kicking.
And Akira was underneath him, and he'd be there tomorrow, and the day after that too.
The kiss soon turned from chaste to more intimate, and he pushed his tongue past Akira's lips as hid head was swimming with feelings he couldn't name. This felt right, though. No matter where they were, he had Akira, and he could be with him and everything would be good.
Akira didn't seem to mind either. In between the bags of clothes and other stuff, in a cold room, he eagerly kissed him back. Messy, too much tongue, teeth clinking against one another, like always.
Keisuke shifted and put one knee between Akira's legs, still not breaking the kiss. Already getting excited from just kissing, he propped himself up with his left elbow, snaking his free hand under the hem of Akira's jacket. He could feel a slight tremor, but that was gone as soon as it started, and as he pushed up the t-shirt underneath, he could feel his smooth skin.
It all came natural but at the same time, Keisuke felt like a virgin all over again. All this should've become muscle memory already and actually, it was, but doing it felt new, as if he'd never touched him before.
Akira huffed out a breath that was somewhere between annoyed and humored and slightly tugged on the back of Keisuke's two shirts, making him pull away and miss his mouth immediately.
"At least open the zipper, stupid," Akira said, obviously trying to keep his voice even but betrayed by his slightly heavier breathing. Of course, Keisuke didn't make him wait, grabbing at the zipper to pull it down, pushing open Akira's jacket more to expose that favorite orange shirt of his.
Going for another kiss, he pushed it up, earning a breathless little gasp and another one when he traced Akira's side with his hand, resting it near his ribs for a second.
He wanted to touch all of Akira at the same time but he only had two hands, and could only use one of them right now. It found it's way to his freshly exposed nipple, drawing another noise from Akira as he rolled it under his thumb. It was hard, if not from arousal then from the cold air and one of Akira's legs bumped against his knee as he writhed a bit underneath him, deepening the kiss even more to stop himself from making those sounds.
His sensitive nipples would never fail to drive him crazy and in a bout of motivation, he broke the kiss to scoot down a bit and take the other nipple in his mouth. Still rolling the right one under his thumb, applying just a little more pressure, he suckled on the left one.
"Mngh-"
With Keisuke's mouth away from his own and being too proud to bite down on his hand, he couldn't do anything to stifle the semi-startled moan that came out. His hands were on Keisuke's shoulders, fingers clawing into the fabric. He didn't even try to push him away. Emboldened by that, he gently bit down on his nipple, swirling his tongue around it, before going back to just suckling on it. At that point, he could feel that Akira was hard, by the way his still clothed crotch was rubbing against his stomach. His own dick was almost painfully hard already, and Keisuke berated himself for having put on boxer briefs today when he usually didn't wear underwear anyways.
Thankfully, Akira seemed impatient too.
"Ngh- Stop that," he said, face red and heart beating so fast that Keisuke could feel it. Obediently, he pulled away from his nipple - even if he wanted to keep sucking on it - and pushed himself up, reaching for Akira's belt, all the while his gaze stayed locked on him.
He had to be the most beautiful human alive. Sure, he'd love him no matter what he looked like, but Akira just WAS gorgeous in any way. His cock throbbed just from taking in the sight of him splayed out, with his t-shirt resting at his collar bones and his nipples hard and red and begging for more. And his face was more beautiful than even that, pale and flushed, with his messy hair even messier than usual and his sharp blue eyes staring back at him as if to combat the embarrassment he still felt after almost two years of doing this almost daily.
Keisuke had to actively hold back because the sheer sight of him like that was making him go feral each and every time.
He made quick work on his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it out the loop and was just as quick with the button and zipper. Like so many times before, he pulled his jeans off along with the boxer briefs Akira was wearing, tossing both behind him as he heard a soft yelp from underneath.
"Sorry," he said on reflex and Akira gentle kneed him in the thigh for that.
"Don't apologize."
The "for something I wanted you to do" went unsaid, but Keisuke knew what he meant, even if his brain got numb at the sight of Akira's dick, hard and flushed, laying against his lower stomach invitingly. His mouth began to water and he took off his top shirt, suddenly feeling like he was overheating.
"You look really, really good," he choked out, too aroused to really think about what he was saying. That earned another knee to the thigh, though it lacked any real impact. Akira's browns were tightly knit together but his dick was still hard.
"Don't say stuff like that, I- Mngh-?"
He choked on his own voice as Keisuke slicked up two of his fingers with all the saliva that had gathered in his mouth and brought them to his hole, having to lean down to comfortably reach there.
"Keisuke-"
Hearing his own name being said like that made his cock twitch, and he leaned his face against Akira's angled leg to look at his face as he pushed his index finger inside. There was just a hint of resistance for a few seconds before it slipped right inside, even with just the spit easing it's entry. Maybe he should've sucked him off before, use the cum as lube, but he just couldn't wait anymore.
From the looks of it, Akira couldn't either.
"Gh-mhn-"
Despite how much he was holding back, he was keeping things slow to make it easier on him. Rubbing his own thighs together, he couldn't get any relief from that aching erection but Akira was just the most important thing to him right now.
His eyes couldn't decide where they'd rather look, Akira's face or his crotch, so they flicked from one to the other. Once they rested on the face again, Keisuke cleared this throat, voice feeling thick with arousal.
"Is this okay?", he asked like so many times before. And again, like so many times before, Akira slowly nodded, his legs shaking slightly as Keisuke took that as an immediate okay to add another finger.
Akira was taking them both like a champ, even if he was shaking a little. He was always extremely sensitive, though. As soon as they'd get intimate, he was responding to every little touch, and that alone was enough for Keisuke to get even more excited than he already was.
"You alright? I can still stop now."
Well, it'd be hard, but he would be able to stop himself. He'd done it before. No matter how badly he wanted to be inside of him, he'd manage to fight back the urge and leave him alone. But he didn't want that. He really, really just had to be one with Akira right now. Like this, in their new place.
He looked at him to get an answer, almost scared of seeing him shake his head. Instead, Akira's eyes were open, and his lips were parted as he took a deep, shaky breath.
"S-Stop asking. I'm good. Keep- Keep going," he said in that blunt tone that could make Keisuke go crazy - in the best of ways - sometimes. His expression was determined, though it looked almost cute with how flushed he was, obviously trying to keep it together.
A moment later, that expression fell as Keisuke scissored his fingers, drawing a strangled little moan from him as Akira looked away, trying to quiet himself by biting down on his lip. It probably had been the added stretch, not so much the pleasure, but then again, sometimes Akira seemed to enjoy that, too.
His dick certainly wasn't softening, twitching against his smooth belly and the tufts of silvery hair. The head was shiny with precum, and it pooled against his skin. Keisuke wanted to lick it away.
And so he did.
"Ngh- Keisuke!"
It was more the surprise than anything else, especially since Akira reacted by (gently) smacking him on the back of his head. His cheeks were so red that they almost seemed to glow, and his eyebrows were knit together. He looked pissed, in an embarrassed way, making Keisuke grin as he curled up his fingers, changing that expression once again as he found his prostate.
"Gh- Idiot-"
That was something else he kind of enjoyed. Messing with Akira, just a little, making him blush and squirm, watching him be cute in his own way. He didn't truly seem to mind it, even if he'd call him an idiot or a horndog or kick him. He'd always be back right away.
"Sorry. Had to do that," he half-apologized, continuing to target his prostate, making him writhe and grab the comforters while his dick throbbed against his skin. Sometimes, he liked to make him come just like that. Right now, he needed more.
He brought down his head a bit, spitting on his fingers once they were almost out, adding a third one. Akira squeezed down on them, taking a few moments to relax a bit. Both his legs were angled now, and his socked toes were gripping the edge of the futon.
"Mhng- Kei-Keisuke-"
Three fingers were a lot to take with only spit helping to ease them inside but he had to prepare him properly. By now, Akira was pretty skilled at taking them and... he needed to be. If he wasn't able to take his fingers, his dick was out of the question.
With the way his fingers were inside of him, targeting his prostate wasn't really possible anymore. He was pretty relaxed by now though, so Keisuke mainly just wanted to stretch him more.
But the writhing continued, and as he looked up, a knee hit him in the cheek.
"I'm. I'm f-fine. Just- Just hurry up!"
Keisuke halted for a second before sitting back up, pulling out his fingers almost a bit too fast, Akira's moan just making his heart beat faster. He was salivating like crazy, and his entire body felt so hot that he thought his blood was boiling. His black undershirt was clinging to him and he wanted to tug at it to grant himself at least some relieve from the oppressive heat his body was producing.
Instead, he just pulled it off completely, tossing it over to the other discarded clothes, and then just reached down, underneath the tied sleeves of his coveralls, unzipping them fully and pulling down his boxer briefs underneath. Good enough, no need to take off his coveralls fully.
He could hear an audible swallow and smell Akira's precum in the cold air as he pulled out his dick. It was harder than it had ever been, heavy in his hand, and slick with precum. Akira was staring at it, his own cock giving a twitch at the sight.
"I'm gonna put it in," Keisuke said, almost cringing at how overly excited his voice sounded as it resonated in his own head. He closed the distance between them again, giving his cock a few strokes, slicking it up more with the precum that was trickling down the head. There was enough of it to make things fairly slippery but still, he ended up spitting on his hand, coating his dick with saliva and wiping off his hand on his thigh afterward.
"Gh-"
Akira gasped as Keisuke settling between his legs, just to grab them and put them at around the height of his waist so he could line his cock up with Akira's hole. They kept eye contact as he began to push in, but both of them screwed their eyes shut as it happened.
"Keisuke- Hgh-"
He was so, so tight. It felt like every time they had sex, he got tighter. Logically, Keisuke knew it was because his dick had gotten bigger over the past few years and that even with preparation and Akira being fairly relaxed, the first few moments were always a struggle, but no matter why it happened, the way Akira clenched down on him made his vision go white.
His left hand found Akira's right one and their fingers intertwined again. He felt the pain of fingernails digging into his skin, but it felt oddly good.
"Easy- Relax- I'll try to go slow," he heard himself babble and maybe, it was to convince himself that he'd go slow. His body, full of energy that wanted out, wanted nothing more to pound away. Keisuke still was holding on to some shreds of reason, though, and he leaned down, feeling Akira's half-naked torso against his fully bare one, to kiss him again.
Akira whined in his mouth but eagerly responded, and with every inch he sank into his warm, tight embrace, he'd moan or gasp. He could feel the heels of his feet pressing into his back, his slender legs closed around him, steadying himself against Keisuke while also caging him in.
"Fuck- you alright?", Keisuke asked into the kiss, feeling like he was going to melt into Akira. His right hand was gripping the comforter, a bit over where Akira was clawing his fingers into it. Both of them were trying to keep it together.
The pressure around his waist lessened a bit but didn't fully go away, thankfully. Akira wasn't letting him go. That was enough of a sign to keep going, but he needed to hear it.
"Gh- Move already-"
And he did. Both hear it, and heed the order. He pulled out, just to slam his hips back into Akira's, maybe a bit harder than he wanted. But Akira's moan made him do it again, then again, again, and again.
He had had enough time to hone his skills but in this moment, he was running on instinct. Keisuke couldn't think. All he could do was look at Akira and kiss Akira and buck his hips into him over and over because he couldn't get enough of being inside of him, the friction just barely eased by how much precum he was producing. Was it painful for him, too?
If it was, he wasn't showing it. The one hand grabbing the futon was now on his shoulder, his entire arm wrapped around his neck, holding him close.
Usually the more quiet on in bed when he wasn't babbling about how much he loved Akira, Keisuke heard himself whine in a way that would have made him cringe if his mind wasn't so clouded with emotions and need, and he picked up the pace, pounded into Akira while their mouths crashed into one another again.
It was a mess. They both were a mess. They hadn't even fully arrived in their new home, and now they were having sex, kissing so hard that both of them had to gasp for breath every time they had the chance to, and Keisuke wanted to cry from how overwhelmingly in love he was with Akira who embraced him even in a situation like this, who wouldn't let him go even if he wanted to.
He gripped his hand tighter, and in return, so did Akira.
The after-effects of what had happened in Toshima, the Line that was long out of his system but still remained in some way, had increased his stamina to a level that was almost not human anymore. He could run for miles on a treadmill and not get tired. When he was with Akira, though, all the stamina was gone. His hips were still snapping into Akira as if his life depended on it, but the friction, even if kind of painful, was getting too much. Akira's cock, trapped between their bodies, rubbing against his tense abs, made it all the more difficult to just stay sane. The bulge of his OWN cock through Akira's belly. Each moan, each gasp that came out of Akira was making it hard to hold back.
He was cursed and blessed with the most perfect person in existence, and he'd probably never be able to keep his hands off him if he kept being this perfect.
Not that he wanted to.
"Keisuke- NGH!"
With how big his dick had become those past two years, and of course with how they were positioned, he was mercilessly attacking Akira's prostate with his thrusts at this point. The friction was driving him crazy, almost hurting him by now, but he couldn't stop. From how Akira was clenching down on him, it looked like he was close or in pain, or both, but his legs were still locked around his waist like a vice, not letting him pull away.
He was close, embarrassingly so, only a few minutes in. He kept at it, though, determined to get Akira off. Which wasn't that hard - Akira was sensitive and usually came fast, and he loved that. Especially if it meant that he wouldn't have to hold back.
Keisuke thought about putting just a little distance between them; or tried to think about it, with his hazed brain unable to form any thought that wasn't just AKIRA being chanted like a mantra. He wanted to reach down and help Akira out, give him a handjob, but Akira's arm was holding him close. His dick was still sandwiched between their abs, and Keisuke's felt hot and slick with precum as Akira's cock slid against the ridges with each of his thrusts.
Good enough.
"Ha-"
The muscles in Akira's thighs were twitching with each thrust and with his enhanced senses in this state of being able to feel and think nothing but "Akira", each twitch felt like a jolt of electricity being sent through his sides, right up to his head, making him see stars. He was so lightheaded that he felt like he'd faint. Maybe he would? Keisuke wasn't sure of anything anymore, just that he wanted Akira, needed him.
"Gh- S-Slow down, I'm-"
He wanted to listen to Akira. Wanted to slow down and drag this out for longer, the entire afternoon, and then the entire night until they'd just collapse in the morning.
But Keisuke was nearing his limits, had been for what felt like hours now, even if it had just been a few minutes.
So he kept at it, with Akira's legs holding him in place, propping himself up slightly with his right hand as he pounded into him, who was clenching down on him so hard that even with his inhuman strength, he felt like he wouldn't be able to move at all again. But he could still move, and so he did, until Akira's fingers dug into his shoulder almost hard enough to break skin. He could feel him bury his face in the crook of his neck to somehow muffle the half-sob half-moan escaping his throat and Keisuke suddenly was hyper aware of the slippery heat against his abs.
Akira came, and despite how much he wanted to let him recover, he couldn't.
Not that it took him much longer. Overstimulation was probably barely setting in as he bucked his hips a few more times, seeing stars as he caught himself chanting "Akira, Akira, Akira" like some weird incantation, and then, his vision went white as he buried himself inside of him for one last time, up to the very base of his cock.
He came, too, mind going completely blank.
All he could hear for a minute was both their labored breathing and their heartbeats. Akira's vice grip on his waist loosened, his legs slipping down. With it, Keisuke was aware enough to help lower him down, pulling out in the process.
His breathing steadied first and he put his dick away, cringing a bit as helt the fabric of his underwear get wet.
"Wait, let me just-"
He grabbed one of his discarded t-shirts, the white one, and cleaned Akira up best he could with it. There was a sort of unhappy grimace on it but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Akira angled one leg to give him better access, and he propped himself up on his elbows once the shirt was resting underneath him, keeping Keisuke's cum from leaking out straight onto the futon.
"Are you doing okay?"
As he settled next to Akira and pulled him a little closer, trying to not move him around too much, he heard him click his teeth and then sigh. Still, he let himself be held, tugging down the shirt that was still pooling around his collarbones, and then looked down on himself. His naked legs, one still angled, skin covered in goosebumps as he calmed down. They were shaking too, with exhaustion – and because of the temperature.
The cold was more noticeable again, creeping up to them as the heat of their activities slowly left their bodies.
"Keisuke," Akira said after a few moments, turning his head a bit. Their faces were close, and he could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Turn the heater on."