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Sawamura Eijun is an enigma.
Always has been.
The first time they met, he was nothing more than a scrawny middle schooler. His cheeks were soft with baby fat, his face flush red from shouting, and his eyes wide with the kind of reckless confidence only kids that young seem to possess. Most importantly, he was unfazed by the enormous upperclassman standing in front of him—chest out, voice raised, like he belonged there.
Kazuya sat a few meters away, watching the chaos unfold with amusement. He was curious—what kind of person would be reckless enough to cause a commotion, especially defending someone he didn’t know.
Catching for Sawamura? It had been a whim.
Nothing more.
Yet, something about the boy caught the catcher’s attention. His eyes were bright and unguarded. They gave away everything—no pretense or pause. He didn’t hesitate, trusting Kazuya’s mitt, and for a second, it lit something inside of Kazuya he forgot existed.
It was like Sawamura hadn’t figured out how to hold back—or didn’t care to.
It was blinding.
Eleven pitches (and one disgruntled senpai) later, Sawamura Eijun was gone just as quickly as he came.
Sure, it had been fun catching for such an unusual pitcher, even if his technique was a bit lacking. Sawamura reminded Kazuya of the thrill of being a catcher. But by the time the new school term rolled around, he had pretty much forgotten about the whole thing. Just another weird afternoon at practice, filed away in his memories.
Until he ran into Sawamura sneaking into the first morning practice of his second year.
For the next couple of months, Kazuya’s first impression held up. Sawamura was just as loud and just as reckless as he’d been that morning practice. Making a scene wherever he went, running laps with his stupid tire, facing every batter like it was some sort of challenge he couldn’t wait to win.
Kazuya takes pride in his ability to read people. It was part of what made him a good catcher, and eventually, a good captain.
Sawamura Eijun?
His pitches are wild, his control questionable, his personality bordering on embarrassing.
A total baseball idiot.
A diamond in the rough.
But most importantly, Sawamura is simple.
And Kazuya had him down to a science.
Until the end of his second year.
The reason why yips are terrifying isn’t just the loss of control. It’s because players can’t trust their bodies. Suddenly, everything feels wrong. Movements that were ingrained into their muscles become foreign. And nothing—no advice, no drills, not even physiotherapy—seems to fix it. Slowly, it eats away at your confidence until there’s nothing left. And by the time you notice it, the damage is done.
Kazuya only learned about it in passing. Whispered between players; half-joking, half-afraid. A cautionary tale. He assumed yips was the kind of thing that happened to other players. Washed-up pros and fragile rookies.
Not Sawamura.
So when cracks began to show, the thought didn’t cross his mind.
And sure, Kazuya noticed. He always notices. It was part of his job as captain to notice, but it was also in his nature to be observant. At first, it was small. A bit of hesitation in Sawamura’s eyes, the lingering tension at the start of his wind-up. Troubling, yes, but nothing that wouldn’t pass. It had only been a few weeks since their crushing loss that spring. Sawamura was always one to easily shrug off mental barriers. Whatever was bothering him, he'd bounce back from.
So Kazuya let him be.
What a mistake that turned out to be.
Slowly, the boy who threw every pitch like his life depended on it, vanished. His grin—bright, honest, annoyingly endearing—disappeared. His eyes dulled. Tired. Empty. Kazuya was used to seeing every emotion written across Sawamura’s face; now there was just...nothing.
It was unnerving.
Kazuya is supposed to be Sawamura’s catcher; it was his job to help the pitcher out of a tight spot, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. Sawamura was being so unlike himself, and Kazuya didn’t know how to reach him.
So he went to Chris, someone who knew what it was like to fall apart.
Then began a different struggle entirely.
Watching Sawamura claw his way out of his yips was frustrating, agonizing, at times. For someone so used to being in control, Kazuya had a hard time sitting back and watching things from the outside. Chris started with his outside pitch. Every change was one step forward, three steps back.
But that was ok. It was progress.
And his patience paid off.
Game after game, Sawamura’s confidence slowly returned. Each pitch was stronger. His control sharpened, his repertoire expanded, and Sawamura Eijun began dominating the mound like nothing he’d ever seen before.
It gave him chills.
Kazuya’s battery with Sawamura was some of the best baseball he’s ever played. His heart raced every time with a thrill only Sawamura Eijun could illicit. Gone was the middle school attitude and wild pitches.
Now, Sawamura had finally grown into the potential Kazuya had seen back then.
He’d finally found his partner.
And that changed something in Kazuya.
He started paying closer attention to Sawamura. The more he saw, the more he noticed. Eventually, noticing turned into wanting. Now, in his third year, Kazuya can admit that there has always been something more between them, simmering just beneath the surface, ever since that first pitch.
As time passes, tension builds.
Kazuya had no idea what to do—like most things involving Sawamura. For all his after-school confessions and pretty-boy catcher reputation, he’s never had romantic feelings before. Kazuya was stuck.
Ultimately, he wasn’t the one to do something about it.
It happened after the team returned from a game. Sawamura's pitching was breathtaking, and Kazuya struggled more than usual not to stare. It seemed a losing battle, according to the glares Karamochi was giving him.
Begrudgingly, Kazuya returned to his room without a word to anyone, exhausted and slightly frustrated by his obvious crush, to find Sawamura on his bed.
Before Kazuya could speak, Sawamura crossed the room and smashed their lips together. Then they were making out in his dorm. It was clumsy, the angle was awkward, their teeth kept bumping into each other, but Kazuya couldn’t care about anything other than feeling Sawamura’s lips against his.
When they parted, Kazuya, breathless and a bit confused, asked what had gotten over the pitcher.
Sawamura shrugged, his mouth curled into a shy smile,
“I got tired of waiting.”
Before Kazuya could ask what he meant, Sawamura leaned in for another kiss, and he decided his questions could wait.
This thing between them was still new.
It had been a few weeks since the kiss, but they’d fallen into a rhythm. Sawamarua visits Kazuya’s room more often. Most of the time, Kazuya is busy with scoresheets and homework, so Sawamura makes himself at home on his bed. Sometimes they talked about baseball, other times they sat together quietly, and sometimes they did... other things.
It was a nice routine.
Kazuya sits at his desk, cheek in palm, as his eyes skim over an open scoresheet. He isn’t retaining any of the numbers. Not really. His gaze keeps drifting, drawn to his bed.
Sawamura lounges beside him, legs stretched carelessly, a manga volume resting on his chest. He seems interested in whatever he’s reading, still in a way he rarely shows. His brow furrows slightly as he reads. Kazuya's attention narrows on the curve of Sawamura’s mouth, lips parting to silently mouth the words on the page. Sawamura’s tongue runs across his lower lip, completely unaware of the eyes that follow his wet trail.
Kazuya’s mouth dries. Captivated by Sawamura’s lips, he doesn’t notice when the pages stop turning.
“Miyuki Kazuya!” Sawamura’s voice cuts through the quiet room.
Kazuya blinks, his eyes jumping away from Sawamura’s lips. “What?” Kazuya answers, shaking off his distraction to look at Sawamura.
“Stop doing that!” Sawamura whines, a bright blush spreading across his cheeks.
Kazuya doesn’t even bother hiding his grin. “Doing what?” he teases.
“Staring!” Sawamura argues.
“What?” Miyuki blinks, feigning ignorance. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Sawamura sits up, pointing at him. “And not in a normal way!”
“A normal way?” Miyuki turned to face him, “There’s a normal way to stare now?”
“Don’t play dumb!” Sawamura huffs. “You think I don’t notice?”
Miyuki raises an eyebrow. “Notice what, Bakamura?”
“You think I don’t notice you looking at me.” Sawamura huffs again, narrowing his eyes.
“No, I do—”
“Don’t you dare deny it!” Sawamura says, puffing his cheeks in mock outrage. “I may be stupid, but I’m not an idiot!” That last bit sticks out.
“Don’t say that.” Kazuya stands, stretching the stiffness out of his limbs. No point in trying to work when his mind is already somewhere else. He crosses the room to his bed, leaning over Sawamura’s body with a lopsided grin. He leans down at the boy for a second longer, then softens.
“You’re right,” Kazuya whispers. “I was staring.”
Sawamura blinked, thrown off. “Huh?”
“Can you blame me?” Kazuya whispers, brushing their foreheads together. Sawamura’s mouth opens, probably to pry further, but Kazuya is faster, pressing his lips against Sawamura’s.
They kiss for a while, unhurried and warm. Sawamura’s lips are soft—something Kazuya never fails to enjoy—he gasps as Kazuya leans closer. Sawamura sinks further into the mattress, reaching out to grab Kazuya’s waist, tugging him closer. Kazuya basks in the warmth of Sawamura’s chest against him.
For all the changes to their relationship, getting to kiss Sawamura is one of the best parts. Something that only gets better with time.
After a few more minutes, their lips part. Kazuya playfully pecks Sawamura’s bottom lip before leaning back, delighted to see that Sawamura had gone pink to the tips of his ears.
“You’re such a jerk,” Sawamura mumbles, trying but failing to sound annoyed.
Kazuya grins, thumb brushing lightly over Sawamura’s bottom lip. “Yeah, and I’m your boyfriend. What does that say about you?”
Sawamura grumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t push Kazuya away. The manga is forgotten at the foot of the bed as they lay there, tangled in each other. S leans in once more, softer this time, smitten by his cute boyfriend.
The longer they trade kisses, the bolder Sawamura gets—swiping his tongue against the seam of Kazuya’s mouth. Kazuya feels Sawamura’s fingers move up his arms, sliding past his nape into his hair. Kazuya gasps at the sensation, caught off guard, and Sawamura uses this to deepen their kiss.
Sawamura toys with the shorter strands at the nape before running his fingers through the hair on the side of Kazuya’s head. He snags a knot, and a sharp sensation catches Kazuya off guard. Kazuya lets out a soft moan; his body flushes in anticipation as the growing desire pools in his gut.
They’ve gone this far a few times, more often lately, and it seems Sawamura has no intention of backing down. Kazuya is more than happy to follow his lead, but his conscience is telling him to make sure this single-minded boyfriend has at least thought this through.
“Sawamura—” Kazuya is cut off with another kiss. “Hey.” He tilts his head, but Sawamura latches onto his neck. Kazuya can faintly smell the remnants of Sawamura’s body wash, the top of his head tickling his jaw. Kazuya’s focus slips with the feeling of Sawamura’s hot breath against his skin. “Listen,” Kazuya’s eyes close, desperately trying to ignore Sawamura’s lips brushing a sensitive spot behind his ear, sucking lightly. Kazuya lets out a sound he’d never made before.
It’s hopeless; his boyfriend’s one-track mind is too distracting. He finally breaks when Eijun’s tongue slides along the curve of Kazuya’s tendon.
“Eijun,” Kazuya pleads, breathless. This seems to catch the pitcher's attention.
Sawamura snaps up, finally peeling himself away from Kazuya’s neck. “What?” his eyes are slightly dazed, his lips swollen from all the kissing.
“What are you doing?” Kazuya bites his lip, turned on beyond belief by the pitcher.
“What do you mean?” Sawamura stares at Kayuza, pupils completely blown. He looks like he wants to eat Kazuya alive. Kazuya swallows back a whine. He doesn’t know why, but there was something in Sawamura’s gaze that was…intoxicating.
“I wanna make you feel good,” Sawamura rasps, tilting forward, trying to catch Kazuya’s mouth in another kiss.
Kazuya takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Me too, but I’m talking about how far you want to take things,” he questions, gaze steady.
“What things?” Sawamura blinks, unable to grasp what Kazuya could be hinting at. Is this idiot really gonna make him spell it out?
“Sex, Sawamura,” Kazuya deadpans.
Sawamura’s eyes narrow, “Sawamura? What happened to Eijun?”
Kazuya feels embarrassed that Sawamura noticed his slip. He looks away, cheeks heating. This is so dumb. They were just making out, and now he's blushing at getting called out for saying his boyfriend's name.
“You never asked me to call you that,” Kazuya answers, eyes trained on the forgotten manga on the floor.
Sawamura slips a hand out of Kazuya’s hair to brush the fringe out of his face, darting over his face. “Well, I am now. I want you to call me Eijun.”
Kazuya tries to keep a straight face; he really does. But Sawamura tilts his head ever so slightly, eyes wide and expectant. It’s the kind of look that belonged on a puppy rather than a person—and it was devastatingly effective.
Kazuya sighs inwardly, already feeling his facade crack. He tells himself he wasn’t giving in. He’s simply…being accommodating. People in relationships call each other by their first names eventually. This is inevitable.
“Alright,” Kazuya agrees, cheeks burning. Eijun's face brightens. “But only when we’re alone,” Kazuya adds. The smile that graces Eijun’s face is well worth the embarrassment.
Eijun leans up, lips brushing Kazuya’s cheek. “That’s fine with me, Kazuya.” He whispers into Kazuya’s ear, sounding far too pleased with himself.
“Now, when did I—” Eijun cuts him off with another kiss. This time deeper, slipping his tongue against the roof of Kazuya’s mouth and sliding against his own. Kazya’s arousal curls in his gut, making him shiver against Eijun's body. The pitcher notices his restlessness; his lips twitch against Kazuya as he smiles into the kiss. Kazuya should feel annoyed at his boyfriend, but all he can think about is how hot Eijun makes him feel.
Reluctantly, Kazuya breaks the kiss and clamps a hand over Sawamura’s mouth, stopping him from chasing the kiss. Eijun falls limp against the bed. “Stop trying to distract me,” he says, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he lowers his hand.
“Why?” Eijun shoots back, eyes gleaming with mischief as he twirls a longer strand of Kazuya’s hair around his finger. Kazuya feels his gut twist. “You make it too easy.”
“Eijun.” Kazuya chides, pinching his cheek.
“Fine,” Eijun rolls his eyes, “You were saying.”
“Brat,” The catcher rolls his eyes, but takes a moment to steel himself. “I want to know what you’re ok with, if I can touch you…” Kazuya slides a hand down Eijun’s torso; he hears Eijun’s breath hitch, and stops his palm just shy of the pitcher’s waistband. Miyuki’s lips quirk into a smirk, “anywhere else.”
Eijun slowly releases a breath, “I’m definitely ok with that.”
“Alright, let me know if you're not ok with something.” Eijun is still staring at Kazuya’s palm. It was cute seeing how affected he is by Kazuya, but what they’re talking about is important. “Promise me, Eijun.”
“I promise,” Eijun agrees easily, eyes dropping to Kazuya’s mouth. “Now, can we go back to kissing?”
“Alright—” Before Kazuya can finish his sentence, Eijun hooks his foot around his calf, flipping them over to straddle the catcher.
Disoriented from getting thrown around, Kazuya almost misses Eijun pulling off his shirt. Once he removes it, he reaches for the hem of Kazuya’s shirt, pausing to ask the catcher for permission. Kazuya nods helplessly, still a bit stunned, and Eijun slowly lifts the shirt over his head, knocking his glasses off his face and onto the floor.
Eijun pauses, his eyes racking Kazuya’s torso from his broad chest down to his happy trail hidden under the hem of his sweats.
“What?” Kazuya asks breathlessly, chest heaving as he fidgets under such intense scrutiny.
“You’re just so…” Eijun’s eyes drop a little further, stopping at the tent of Kazuya’s pants, his erection straining against the fabric, then back up to meet his eyes. “Beautiful,” Eijun says, eyes locked on Kazuya with a gaze so intense it sends a shiver of pleasure straight through him.
Kazuya can’t help himself, reaching up to grab Eijun’s shoulders, crashing their lips together. Eijun gasps softly as Kazuya’s bare chest rubs against him. Kazuya loses track of time, consumed by the sensations—the steady beat of Eijun's heart pressed against his own—and wonders if he can feel Kazuya’s in return.
Kazuya falls back against the bed, adjusting as Eijun follows him, his arms slipping from Eijun’s shoulders and down his torso. Eijun slips a leg between Kazuya’s, bearing his weight to press him into the mattress, moaning against Kazuya.
Eijun slips his tongue back into Kazuya’s mouth, warm and wet as he licks inside. It’s addictive. Kissing him. Touching him. Feeling him. No matter how many times the two of them trade kisses, Kazuya could never get tired of feeling Eijun’s mouth against his own, the sounds he makes as Kazuya kisses him senseless.
Kazuya plants a foot on the bed, trying to press his chest more firmly against Eijun, but instead pushes his thigh right against Eijun’s erection. Eijun lets out a moan so filthy it will haunt Kazuya’s dreams for the next few weeks.
Eijun breaks the kiss, falling over to rest his head against Kazuya’s shoulder. Head tipped back, trembling against his body.
“You like that?” Kazuya whispers, nuzzling into the pitcher’s hair. Eijun shivers at the sound of Kazuya’s voice right next to his ear.
“Yeah,” Eijun groans, voice rough with pleasure, sitting up and slowly grinding against Kazuya's thigh. “Don’t stop.”
Kazuya watches, mesmerized, as Eijun moves above him, absolutely shaking with pleasure. He shudders and moans—so unrestrained—as he rolls his hips against Kazuya. It is the hottest thing Kazuya has ever seen; he is absolutely buzzing, the tension making his pants feel tight.
Kazuya grabs hold of Eijun’s hips, guiding him as he blindly grinds against his thigh. “You’re doing so good for me, Eijun.” Kazuya groans, kissing him on the corner of the mouth. Eijun makes a strangled noise, and Kazuya groans.
“That’s it, baby.” Kazuya encourages as Eijun whines again. His hips start to speed up; the sight alone makes him hotter as he talks Eijun through it. “Keep moving. Show me how much you like it.”
“Kazuya,” Eijun whines, falls on top of the catcher. Overwhelmed and tightly wound. His breath tickles the side of Kazuya's neck as he shakes above the catcher.
“What do you want, Eijun?” Kazuya pants into Eijun’s ear, nudging the side of his head.
“I want you to touch me.” Kazuya moans, gut twisting at the straightforward request. Eijun rises onto his forearms, peering down at the catcher, eyes half-lidded. His bare chest heaving with the effort to form sentences. “And I wanna touch you too.” He brushes the hair away from Kazuya’s face, kissing his forehead in a delicate show of intimacy. Those bright gold eyes are swallowed by dark pupils, overcome by his desire. Kazuya has never felt so vulnerable, bare for Eijun to pick apart.
“How greedy.” Kazuya rasps.
“Mmm,” Eijun hums, leaning down to latch onto Kazuya’s earlobe, pulling on the flesh. Kazuya shivers, head lolling over to give him more room to work with. “How can I not? When you look like that?” The pitcher murmurs, shifting slightly as he slowly rolls his hips. The new angle allows Eijun to grind directly on Kazuya’s erection; they both moan at the friction.
“You’re so hot, senpai. I can barely take my eyes off you sometimes.” Eijun breathes a soft puff of air against his neck, voice teasing the shell of Kazuya’s ear. “And I’m the only one that can see you like this,” he whispers, hips moving in circles against Kazuya. “Falling apart, desperate for me.” A sharp thrust sends sparks down Kazuya’s spine.
Kazuya moans, hot from Eijun’s confession and the constant stimulation, he slides a hand over Eijun’s back. Eijun moans above him, “I love the sounds you make for me, too.”
“Eijun,” Kazuya whines, the heat pooling in his lower belly spreading down his legs. As hot as the grinding is, Kazuya really, really needs Eijun to quit blindly following his instincts—if the pitcher doesn’t do something soon, Kazuya might have to start doing things himself.
Eijun, bless his heart, notices the impatience in Kazuya’s voice. He stops grinding and reaches down, sliding his hand down to finally grab the tent in Kazuya’s sweatpants. Kazuya’s hips buck at the touch. “Shh, it’s ok,” Eijun whispers into his hair as he reaches underneath the band to fish out Kazuya’s erection. “I got you.”
The moment he reaches bare flesh, Kazuya lets out a long, low moan, eyes shutting. Eijun gives an experimental tug, adjusting to the unfamiliar weight in his hand. The shaft is wet with beads of precome, but his hand still feels a bit dry.
Kazuya feels a shiver down his spine, his brow furrowing at the strange yet familiar touch. He feels Eijun’s stare through his closed eyelids, watching his reactions. “Fuck.” Kazuya curses, overwhelmed by the pleasure sparking down his legs. Another tug, this time smoother. “Fuck, Eijun.”
Emboldened by the reaction, Eijun thumbs the tip of his dick. Kazuya’s toes curl, more precome beads from his slit as he moans. Eijun circles the head a few more times, then he makes one long pull from tip to base, carefully watching Kazuya’s face. Kazuya's thighs shake with the effort to keep still, his body tense with pleasure.
Eijun brushes his nose against Kazuya's. "Lube?" he asks. Kazuya takes a moment to process; his attention is stolen by the hand wrapped around his cock. He nods frantically, desperate to feel even better under the pitcher's rapt attention.
“Yeah, let me—” He pushes lightly at Eijun, the pitcher rolling off of him, before getting off the bed to rummage through his dresser across the room. Kazuya silently curses at how weak his legs feel, weakened by the feeling of Eijun’s hand wrapped around his dick, but pushes himself to find the bottle and return to his waiting boyfriend. A few seconds later, Kazuya retrieves the lube from his drawer and turns to the bed.
Only to find a naked Sawamura Eijun sitting at the edge of his bed.
And Kazuya—
His mind short-circuits.
Well, more like he stares. He stares at Eijun, lips parted slightly and heart hammering against his ribcage, as he drinks all of the newly exposed skin. Mapping Eijun’s bare body, from his freckled shoulders to his broad chest to the firm muscles of his abs. His gaze lands between EIjun’s parted legs, an erection lying heavy against his muscled thighs.
He looks good like this—naked, flushed, open and waiting for Kazuya.
Fuck—
He’s so hot.
Kazuya swallows, a shaky breath escaping him. Eijun stares him down—eyes golden and burning. Kazuya still doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s wearing, but it spreads a dark flush down Eijun’s chest. The tension between them feels almost suffocating.
Kazuya slowly reaches down to squeeze his erection, relieving some of the pressure. Eijun’s eyes jump towards the action, mouth parting as a heady expression crosses his face. Eijun looks at Kazuya with such open hunger that it makes his cock twitch in his hand.
“Kazuya,” Eijun calls out, low and hoarse. Kazuya didn’t know that Eijun could sound like that, but it makes his gut twist and his hand tighten around his cock. "C'mere."
The command is hypnotizing. Kazuya lets go of himself and quickly walks over to the bed, stopping between Eijun’s legs. Eijun reaches out, sliding his hands up the outside of Kazuya’s thighs. His muscles tremble at the touch. He continues until his fingers hook onto the band of Kazuya’s sweats, then pauses. Eijun looks up at Kazuya, question dancing in those golden eyes.
Kazuya swallows thickly, a deep desire radiating from the boy below him. “Keep going.”
Unexpectedly, Eijun leans forward and licks the skin below his belly button, not breaking eye contact. Kazuya jumps, the hot tongue tickling his sensitive skin, the feeling making his cock twitch one more.
This was the most pornographic thing Kazuya had ever seen—Eijun between his legs, mouth open, pupils dilated. Eijun curls his fingers around the waistband and slowly tugs Kazuya’s pants and underwear down, lightly nibbling on the skin above his happy trail.
He steps out of his pants, naked before Eijun.
Kazuya has never felt so exposed in his life—and he loved every second of it.
Eijun’s eyes naturally drift towards the newly exposed erection, bobbing in front of him. Hot puffs of breath lightly teasing the tip. Curious, Eijun softly blows on the tip, and Kazuya moans, his cock jumping in the open air.
“Sensitive?” Eijun licks his lips, completely enamoured at the sight.
“Yeah,” Kazuya closes his eyes to steady himself. "Move back for me?" He brushes Eijun’s cheek with the back of his fingers. Eijun scoots backward, getting his back against the wall. Kazuya follows after the pitcher to straddle his thighs, the bottle of lube forgotten beside them.
They both stare at the other, equally naked and flushed, so full of lust they can barely contain themselves.
Kazuya uncaps the lube, fumbling a bit. Luckily, Eijun seems too distracted to notice, burying his head back in Kazuya’s neck, nibbling at the skin underneath his jaw.
“Again with the neck,” Kazuya complains, trying to keep things light. “What are you, a vampire?” He meant to tease the pitcher, but his voice sounded a touch too breathless.
“I can’t help it,” Eijun pants against the wet skin. He licks a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw, and Kazuya moans loudly. “You make the sweetest sounds.”
A hot wave of possessiveness curls in Kazuya’s chest, warming his body. The thought that Eijun just can’t help himself around Kazuya is hotter than he realized. Kazuya cranes his neck further, a sly smile stretching across his face.
“That’s nice and all,” Kazuya murmurs, voice a low rumble that makes Eijun hum, running his fingers through the pitcher’s brown hair. “But I can’t get my hands on you like this.”
“Hmm.” Eijun pulls back, his golden eyes dancing with mischief. “That sounds like a you problem.”
Kazuya snorts at the absolute nerve of this guy, thinking he could get away with teasing him. “If that's what you think, maybe I should—” He slowly starts to lift himself off of Eijun’s lap. But before he can raise higher than an inch, Eijun clamps his hands onto his hips and pushes him down. Kazuya lets out a soft moan.
“I didn’t mean it.” Eijun quickly backtracks, peppering kisses at the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Kazuya, jerk me off.” He pleads.
It’s crazy how Eijun could say such filthy things with a pout. Usually, Kazuya would tease him about it, but right now, he's too aroused to care about anything but getting off.
“Brat.” Kazuya grins before catching Eijun in a brief kiss. He grabs the lube and squeezes some onto his hand. Eijun watches with a wide-eyed fascination as Kazuya warms the gel with his palm, then reaches for Eijun’s neglected cock.
Eijun lets out an almost pained moan; the sound spurs Kazuya further. He circles his thumb against the sensitive head of his cock, spreading lube, but also teasing Eijun for earlier. Before the pitcher gets too antsy, Kazuya begins to loosely stroke his length, his calloused fingers gently rubbing against his shaft. Eijun tries to buck his hips, but Kazuya’s body keeps him pinned down. Eijun trembles, eyes wide and mouth open, and Kazuya licks his lips.
"Fuck, Kazuya." Eijun slurs, head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, showing off the length of his neck. Kazuya latches onto the skin, mouthing hotly up the sides of his neck. Eijun’s moans take a higher pitch when Kazuya sucks on his Adam’s apple. “Ah, please, please!” Eijun sounds obscene, gasping through every plea, and Kazuya revels in it.
His body shakes as Kazuya works Eijun’s cock, building a comfortable rhythm. Eijun clutches Kazuya’s thighs, helpless against the mounting pleasure—he’s never been so beautiful.
“Oh, God.” Eijun kneads at the flesh, the only outlet he has against the endless waves of pleasure shooting through him. His blush has travelled down his neck and painted his chest. Kazuya feels delirious with arousal, his cock heavy and pressing insistently against Eijun’s thigh—untouched and absolutely aching.
Eijun lets out a whimper—right into his ear—and Kazuya loses his mind.
“Eijun,” Kazuya whispers, panting against Eijun’s open mouth. His face heats in embarrassment at the desperate tone. But Kazuya can’t seem to find in himself care, not in front of his boyfriend. “Me too, c’mon…”
Eijun’s shaky hand reaches for the lube, and Kazuya slows his ministrations—not completely stopping, but not making things easy for the pitcher either. Eijun’s eyelids flutter shut at a particularly nasty twist. Grabbing hold of the lube, Eijun pours a little too much onto his hand, and Kazuya snickers at his obvious struggle. Eijun laughs too, a sheepish expression painting his face.
Once Eijun finally gets a hand on Kazuya’s cock, it twitches at the feeling of Eijun’s fingers. Eijun stares at him with parted lips, pupils blown completely wide. He skips any pretense and begins to jerk Kazuya’s cock with ferocity. Kazuya moans above him, hiding his face in the crook of Eijun’s neck.
“Yes, Fuck! Eijun,” Kazuya rocks his hips in Eijun’s lap, chasing his hand. Not one to be outdone, he doubles his efforts of jerking Eijun’s cock. “You're so good, oh my God. Don’t stop.” Kazuya can’t stop the words from tumbling out of him, and a moan slips from Eijun in response—loud and a little wrecked.
They create a feedback loop; every one of Eijun’s relentless tugs makes Kazuya tighten his grip, feed into the other’s pleasure. Neither of them is stopping. The closer they get, the faster they stroke each other’s cock.
It was intoxicating.
“Kazuya, I’m—Fuck, I’m gonna—” Eijun gasps, frame shaking and fingers digging into Kazuya’s waist. He’s drooling onto Kazuya's shoulder. Kazuya squeezes the base of his cock, and Eijun lets out his loudest groan yet.
“Me too,” Kazuya pants, jerking Eijun cock even faster. He can feel his orgasm approaching; he won’t last much longer either. “Come for me, Eijun.”
“Ah, I—, Senpai—, Kazuya!” A few more strokes, and Eijun comes, his abdomen clenches as his cock shoots cum all over Kazuya’s hand. He loosens his grip on Kazuya’s cock, overwhelmed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Kazuya continues stroking, watching Eijun’s cock spilling cum all over his stomach. He only stops once Eijun starts trembling.
After a moment to collect his bearings, Eijun’s hand returns, stroking Kazuya with renewed vigour. Kazuya lets go of Eijun’s cock and focuses on thrusting into the fist, chasing his pleasure. It only takes Eijun pressing into the slit of Kazuya’s cock, and it’s over; he falls straight into his orgasms. Kazuya's entire body shakes as he comes all over himself, adding his own coating cum to the mess on their torsos. Eijun moans at the sight of cum shooting out of the tip, slowing his hand as Kazuya rides out the rest of his orgasms.
Kazuya moans again, gently bats the pitcher’s hand away, pleasure dipping into overstimulation. He slowly comes back to awareness as Eijun nuzzles into his neck. Some aftershocks continue to spark through his body as he slumps sideways into the mattress, pulling Eijun down next to him. They lay together, chests heaving with exertion. Eijun stares up at the ceiling, still dazed—a dark flush spreading down his shoulder, lips still swollen from all the kissing.
He looks fucked out.
Kazuya feels oddly pleased with himself.
Then, Eijun breaks the silence. “Holy shit.”
Kazuya snorts, which earns him an indignant noise from Eijun. Laughter spills out of him anyway, head thrown back as he cackles into the quiet room. So incredibly fond.
“Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun shouts. “Who are you laughing at!”
“You,” Miyuki answers honestly, still grinning. “Seriously, ‘Holy shit’. You’ve got such a way with words.”
“Kazuya,” Eijun whines, tugging playfully at Kazuya’s hair. “Don’t tease,” He pouts, sulking.
“Eh, but you make it so easy.” He snickers, falling back into familiar teasing. Eijun’s pout deepens, and Kazuya nearly starts laughing again. He rolls onto his side, slinging an arm over Eijun’s waist.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Kazuya placates the pitcher, running a hand up his side. Eijun shudders beneath the light touch, skin still sensitive.
“You’re the worst,” Eijun mutters.
"Thank you~" Kazuya singsongs.
"That’s not a compliment!"
Kazuya chuckles and pulls Eijun closer, tucking the younger boy underneath his chin. Eijun grumbles but doesn’t resist, burying his face in the crook of Kazuya’s neck.
With how new their relationship was, there must have been a moment before that confession when this affection became familiar, but Kazuya can’t quite pin down when it happened.
He's just grateful that it did.
“Hey Kazuya,” Eijun murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “Did you like it?”
Kazuya presses a kiss to Eijun’s temple. “It was perfect.”
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