Work Text:
3 Minutes After the Battle with Kaiju No. 9:
“Narumi?”
The line’s dead - just static. Hoshina taps his earpiece, checking that it’s in place, and it is. There’s interference, but it’s got power. Just doesn’t got anyone on the other side. Hoshina squints at where Narumi’s kneeling in the dust, some twenty meters out.
“Narumi,” he repeats, louder. Still nothin’. “Captain Narumi.”
“Comms-”
The line crackles to life in Hoshina’s ear. It nearly pierces his eardrums, shrill and loud. Hoshina grabs his earpiece, swiping the dial down. A voice scratches over the line - the Ops team from the First.
“His comms – down, Vice Captain Hosh –”
“Just him?” Hoshina sighs. “What the hell?” He groans as he stretches out his leg, pushing himself up. The dust has settled, and the kaiju are in the ground - whatever smithereens are left of ‘em. He searches the skies for drones. They’ll be there soon. “ETA ‘til he’s back online?”
Kurusu’s voice snaps back through the line, ricocheting around on the airwaves like stray bullets.
“Need to get Captain Narumi off – field -”
“What?” Hoshina cups his hand over his earpiece, trying to piece together Kurusu’s fractured comms. “I’m not copyin’,” Hoshina says, “What’s up with him?”
“– Overheated. We’re not reading – signal, everything is maxed out.”
“Shit,” Hoshina mutters.
His legs scream as he pulls himself onto his feet. His back cries out, bruised and battered. He can’t tell if it’s debris crunching beneath his feet, or just his own bones. No. 10 hugs him like a particularly-clingy boa constrictor, wrapping his thick tail around Hoshina’s midsection. He can’t complain too much - it might be the only thing keeping all his guts in place.
“That one is weak now,” No. 10 roars, “Go for the kill!”
“Shut the hell up,” Hoshina snorts. No. 10 growls, rough displeasure scratching up the underside of his suit. Hoshina sighs. “...Wouldn’t you rather fight him at his best?” he says, “Wouldn’t be much fun beatin’ him now…”
No. 10 instantly smooths out, purring: “Another day… Yes… We will spare him to fight another day!” No. 10 sparks along Hoshina’s sides. “Hoshina! Go recover the weak captain!”
Hoshina rolls his eyes. He rushes towards the middle of the field, letting his suit take the impact of his steps. There’s enough energy running through his augmented spine that he can power through the pain, but he’s spent enough that it’s started to pile up.
“Narumi,” he shouts, kneeling down by his side. The captain doesn’t seem to hear him until they’re eye level. Blood seeps down from a cut by his hairline, leaking down over his forehead. The armor plates on his chest are dull and dented, stained with rusty iron. Hoshina slips his fingers under Narumi’s chin, tilting his jaw up. “Captain Narumi.”
He meets Hoshina’s gaze, slow and unsteady. His eyes are bloody too, burst capillaries and blown-out retinas. Hoshina slips off Narumi’s dead earpiece. He brushes back the tangle of sweaty hair by Narumi’s temple, and the captain shudders. Hoshina’s fingers slip, and the earpiece clatters against the debris.
“Vitals?”
“--Went way over capacity, Vice Cap – It broke the sensors. I can’t even get to his suit - it’s – fail-shut state. –Have to power it down to get – disengaged. –Tain, I need you to bring – back to the extraction point.”
“Roger,” Hoshina barks into the comms. Then, softer, he whispers: “Can you hear me, Narumi?”
Shattered green under the blood, bursting out from his pitch-black pupils. They snap onto Hoshina, tracking him like a kaiju. Only, instead of sighting ahead, Narumi’s senses seem to lag a step behind. His chest stutters, shoulders heaving with labored breaths. His armor plates shift together, metal scraping on metal. It’s a harsh, wrong sound. His shoulder plates catch, locking together where No. 9’s blows bent them in. A stitch of pain stabs through Narumi’s brow.
“V– Captain - I think – forced a manual override.”
“...Roger,” he echoes.
Hoshina reaches for his headset, switching his own comms to mute. He catches Narumi by the shoulder, steadying him as he sways. He hooks his arms under Narumi’s shoulders. Hoshina grits his teeth as he wraps them around Narumi’s chest and lifts. It takes most of his dwindling energy reserves just to bear Narumi’s ridiculous armored weight. He’s damned heavy. Half of that’s the No. 1 suit, the other half is the whole world that he’s carryin’ on his back - all of the JAKDF.
“You fucking idiot,” Hoshina seethes. Narumi huffs out a laugh as he curls over Hoshina’s side. It’s harsh and stilted - sounds more like he’s choking. But Hoshina feels Narumi’s throat flutter. He feels that cocky, toothy smirk of Narumi's pressing into his skin. “You absolute fuckin’ moron,” Hoshina pants, “Manual override? What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Hoshina lifts them both, getting them onto shaky footing. Narumi’s suit leaks med fluid onto his own, gushing out where No. 9 cracked through his armor plates. Blood spills onto Hoshina too, oozing from Narumi’s eyes. No. 10 perks up as it soaks into his shoulder; Hoshina forces him back down. They take one, unsteady step together, and Narumi’s suit creaks, sparking.
“You okay?” Hoshina murmurs. “Gen,” Hoshina whispers, pressing his lips to Narumi’s temple. “You still with me?”
Hoshina hears him suck in a wet breath.
“...Yeah,” Narumi mutters under his breath. “Don’t forget my gun, asshole.”
3 Months After the Battle with Kaiju No. 9:
It’s easier to fuck than talk, so they don’t really talk.
Hoshina Soshiro re-dresses with all of the pointless, idiotic efficiency fitting of a Vice Captain. Narumi, saving his energy, just watches from the bed. Hoshina pulls on a new set of fatigues, because he’s actually prepared enough to have brought a spare. He watches carefully, lazily flicking on his retinas. His own human eyes can never manage to keep up with this part. Doesn’t help that Hoshina’s just… a hell of a lot to look at.
Narumi’s seen a lot of naked guys before, yeah? It’s kind of inevitable in this line of work - locker rooms, packed wall to wall with meatheads that think they’re strong enough to take on monsters the size of high rises. Half of them are on steroids, and most of ‘em are cleared by med. It’s all about power in the First. Enough muscle to run around carrying heavy artillery without getting winded, enough to pull civilians out of cracking buildings before they collapse. It’s power, yeah, but it’s raw and rough.
Hoshina puts them all to shame.
Yeah, he’s got power, but it’s not the power of a brute. His whole body is carved, whittled down with a knife. He doesn’t carry any more weight than he needs to; he’s built for speed. Hoshina fights with his whole body, flipping and kicking like a maniac with No. 10 at his back. His thighs are thick enough that he could probably crush a kaiju’s core in between ‘em. And his chest ripples with muscles so sharply-toned that Narumi could probably grate his face against them. Hoshina’s built to dash in, to cut out, and to slip away. It’s a lithe, elegant, deadly build - and Narumi knows exactly how it feels under his hands.
Narumi has memorized the shape of it with his fingers and tongue, and he sears it into the backs of his eyelids with No. 1’s blazing outline. It glows in his field of view like a targeting reticle, even as Hoshina covers himself up. He hides the sharp lines of his chest under layers of wicking cotton and baggy canvas. He hides it - all of it - even the kaiju. Narumi’s never quite understood how Hoshina can put it all back so neatly into a box. The heat, the blood, the lust. It pours out of him when they’re together, bleeding like a slit carotid. It spills all over Narumi too. There’s somethin’ there, something that Narumi doesn’t want to name, and Hoshina doesn’t even want to mention. But when they finish, Narumi’s always still stained with it, like gunpowder on his hands. Hoshina just wipes it off.
The worn clothes - the ones stained with Narumi’s blood, spit, and come - go back in the duffle bag. Hoshina flits about the room, tidying up the room like a Merry Maid - all he’s missing is the frilly skirts. Hoshina tosses the cut zip ties, candle stubs, and an empty blister pack of painkillers. Everything else goes back in the bag - the whip, the manacles, and the ball gag. Hoshina zips the bag shut. Just like that, it’s all gone - hidden away under black canvas.
“Good to go?” Hoshina hums. His sharp, carmine eyes flit between the bag and the door, never once turning towards Narumi. He’s already on his next mission, securing his objective; Narumi’s still fuckin’ dazed just sitting on the bench. “You don’t need me to stay, do you, Captain?”
Back in the box.
Narumi bites his tongue, and he shakes his head. It’s always been easier to fuck than talk, so they don’t. They never have. He turns away from the vice captain, lying on his back.
“...Nah,” Narumi grunts, “I’m good.”
3 Days After the Battle with Kaiju No. 9:
“You wanna talk about it?”
It’s Narumi that asks, the first time. He catches Hoshina in the corridor while he’s en route to the mess hall. He pulls him aside - oddly quiet, oddly restrained. His pink bangs hang low over his forehead, but not low enough to block his eyes. They’re a soft, cloudy rose color now. Smooth, without No. 1 peeking out. Even without his retinas, Narumi’s eyes seem to pick him apart, analyzing him like a new, unstudied kaiju.
Hoshina stares back, tracing the outline of Narumi’s lips. They wrap around unfamiliar words, and in Hoshina’s buzzing ears, they make unfamiliar sounds. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could borrow No. 1’s foresight. Maybe then he’d be able to see what’s comin’ next; maybe then he’d be able to get a step ahead of it.
“The other day,” Narumi adds. “Hoshina-”
“Nah.”
Hoshina’s kaiju slips out without proper activation. It’s not smart, like No. 1. It’s just a damned monster. Reckless and instinctual, swingin’ with no goddamn sense, just simmering blood. “I’m good,” Hoshina adds, holding his breath.
No. 1 flickers in Narumi’s eyes - an electric bolt of green, slashing through his dark pupils like lightning. It sits heavy on Hoshina’s skin, like gathering stormclouds. Static tickles the nape of his neck - and then it’s gone.
Narumi shrugs, leaning back against the wall. “Okay.”
3 Hours After the Battle with Kaiju No. 9:
Narumi crashes into the barracks’ showers like a totaled car. He looks pretty much like he’s been in a car accident - and like maybe the airbags were fuckin’ broken. His chest is covered in dark bruises and half-healed bones stickin’ up at odd angles. Head to toe, he’s covered in cuts and burns. No. 9 did a number on him. But then again, No. 9 did a number on the whole country. Narumi looks like shit, but he’s still standing. He’s luckier than most of the First Division - hell, most of the whole JAKDF.
It’s over, but it doesn’t feel like it is.
No. 9 is dead, but its many-faced shadow is looming over their shoulder, still haunting them all. That’s why the med bay at Ariake looks a little more like a mass grave, at the moment. Every cot’s filled with a bandaged-up soldier. Narumi doesn’t wanna think about how many they left on the field. The battle’s over, but Narumi’s still in the thick of it.
His senses are still on edge, even with the codeine clogging up his veins like tar. It’s enough to numb the pain, but not enough to put him down. Narumi’s still got enough strength to stand, and he’s got enough of a pulse that his heart is twitchy. And No. 1 is hammering through his head, sucking up all the sensation that it can while it’s trapped in its retinas. It clings to every sight and sound, amplifying it double in Narumi’s mind. Blowing out his retinas does that - lets No. 1 go wild even when he doesn’t activate his sight. They shot him full of epinephrine to let his body keep up with the damn kaiju. So here he is, his heart rattling off like an artillery rifle. He’ll come down soon. In an hour or so. Not yet. His pulse is still blasting through his ears. So Narumi makes for the showers, hoping to deafen himself with the pounding of water on his back instead.
He’s not the only one with that bright idea.
“Narumi?” Vice Captain Hoshina… His eyes widen a touch as he takes in Narumi. Again - car crash. He looks at Narumi the way you look at a ten-car pile-up; sucking air through your teeth, waiting for the firefighters to show up. Hoshina curses. “...You should be in the med bay.”
Hoshina looks a hell of a lot better than Narumi does, not that it’s hard. He’s still a little banged up - a few cuts, and a huge, violet bruise crawling around his hips and up his back where he got thrown through a damn building. The beating he took would break most soldiers’ spines, even in a suit. And yet, there’s barely a scratch on him, compared to Narumi. It tracks, given how evasive the motherfucker is. But it’s still fucking annoying.
“No way they cleared you,” Hoshina says, snapping Narumi back to the present. His feet barely make a sound over the wet tile as he steps closer. His eyes flicker over Narumi’s battered chest. “You look like hell.”
“Cleared,” he grunts. “They’re over capacity. I don’t need a bed.” Even if he did, his men need ‘em more. He’s still standing, right? That’s more than most. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
Hoshina stares at Narumi’s bloody chest and his bloodier eyes, taking triage. Narumi stares back at him, but he feels his brain lag. Maybe Hoshina’s a little worse for wear too - he’s certainly quicker to curse. It’s hard to get a read on him. Narumi squints at him through the steam. Even with No. 1’s clairvoyance, it’s hard for Narumi to analyze Hoshina sometimes. He’s a lot to take in. Doesn’t help that he’s fucking naked.
“The hell,” Hoshina sighs, “Do you even use the shields on your suit?”
Narumi snorts.
“Never seen a banged up captain before?” he jeers. “Guess your little Ashiro doesn’t really get down and dirty, huh? This is what it looks like when you’re a front liner - it’s a little tougher than all that sniper bullshit.”
“Really?” Hoshina’s eyes glitter. He looks over himself, exaggerating the motion as he bobs his head. “Didn’t realize I was doin’ ‘sniper bullshit’ too. Is that why I don’t look like a punching bag?”
Narumi scowls. He dunks his head under the hot shower. Feels good, but he stumbles a bit.
“Cleared ya with broken ribs?” Hoshina huffs, voice softer, almost soft enough to get lost under the sound of showers. He gets in close - light fingers, just a whisper of a touch, tilting up Narumi’s chin. “Shit,” he mutters, “How much adrenaline did they give you?”
“Enough.” Narumi smirks. “You want some too? I’ll slip you some from med.”
“...First Division,” Hoshina sighs, withdrawing. He turns back, shoving his face into his own shower stall. He shakes his head, tutting, “You’re all fuckin’ psychos, aren’t ya?”
“Yeah?”
Yeah, Hoshina’s hard to read, but not impossible. Narumi puts on his reading glasses, pinning Hoshina under a kaiju-enhanced microscope. He flicks on No. 1, peeling back the vice captain’s front cover. No. 1 leaps to attention, showing the bright energy flowing through Hoshina’s body. It’s as smooth as ever, from the tips of his toes all the way up his legs, swirling in his chest before it spreads down his arms and up his throat. His energy flows like a clearwater creek, shiny and calm. It’s perfectly refined - better than anyone’s in the First, even Narumi’s.
“You’d fit right in,” Narumi says.
“I-” Hoshina turns back towards him, and his eyes narrow into slits. “...You serious?” Hoshina snaps, “Quit that. You’re gonna blow yourself out again, dumbass.”
“‘M not,” Narumi snips. “The fuck would you know about it?”
“I know that you overheated yourself so bad you collapsed,” Hoshina snarls. “I know I had to carry your ass back in a broken numbers suit.”
“You broke yours too!”
“A kaiju broke mine, Narumi,” he snaps. “I didn’t manually override my suit past the point of functionin’ just to-”
“I did what I had to. No. 1 was clutch, so I clutched that shit. We got intel, important fuckin’ intel, that Shinomiya needed to fight 9. If I hadn’t-”
“You took yourself off comms, didn’t you?” Hoshina says. Narumi stiffens. How the hell- “You are such a fucking idiot, Narumi,” he spits. “Do you have any idea how reckless that was?”
“I needed full power on 1,” Narumi says, cheeks turning hot.
“No you didn’t. You wanted full power on 1. And you nearly melted your eyes out doing it.”
“I didn’t-”
“They give you adrenaline for that too? Or did med clear you without a signal check on your numbers gear? Is everyone in the First Division fucking cra-”
“You got to 100.”
Hoshina freezes. He stares at Narumi, eyes widening in incredulity. A sudden laugh erupts from his lips, and he clutches his face with both hands.
“...That’s what this is about?” Hoshina giggles. He grins, sharp teeth glinting through the cracks in his fingers. “Incredible. You’re incredible, Captain Narumi. You pushed yourself - you bricked yourself on the field in front of No. 9 because you couldn’t handle me outdoing you, huh?”
“...How’d you get to 100 percent?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Even your precious fucking Captain Ashiro can’t do it,” Narumi seethes, “so how the fuck did you?”
By all rights, Hoshina should bite back. Fuck knows his teeth are sharp enough. But he doesn’t. He turns, stiffly, sticking his head back in his stall like a little bitch. Narumi leans on the plastic panel that separates their stalls, peering over into Hoshina’s. Narumi’s only half in the spray of his own shower. He should be cold, but his skin is fucking blazing.
“Who knows?” Hoshina says sunnily - but his voice is as cold as ice. “It’ll probably never happen again!”
“...What?”
“No. 9 is dead. Strongest kaiju in decades - we probably won’t have to face anything like that for a good while. Might even be retired by then. I won’t have to-”
“...You’re going to hold yourself back?” Narumi gapes.
“...I’m not ‘holding myself back’,” Hoshina says. Even through the false cheer, Narumi can hear him gritting his teeth. “But,” he sucks in a deep breath, “there’s no point in causing unnecessary collateral damage. My usual maximum unleashed combat power level is more than sufficient to neutralize kaiju, certainly all miniature class kaiju. Captain Ashiro-”
“So you’re pussying out.”
Hoshina sighs, a smooth sound creased by a stitch of irritation. “That kinda language is-”
“Just like you did with the First, you’re pussying out.” Narumi snaps. “Because you’d rather run and hide behind Ashiro’s skirts than fight by my side where you actually fucking belong.”
Hoshina stiffens. “I don’t belong in the First,” he says, even icier. He sounds brittle.
“Bullshit. The First is for the absolute strongest,” Narumi says, slowly, viciously. “And that’s you ‘n me.”
“...Really?” Hoshina says lightly, “Numerically, I think it’s just me, actually.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Narumi chokes, “I’m still stronger than you in ten categories.” he spits. “But we’d be stronger together. Unstoppable, and you fucking know it.”
Hoshina swallows thickly. Finally, his energy starts to quiver. Eddies rise up, breaking the smooth flow into something rougher, choppy. There’s an invisible ripcurrent hiding beneath. If Narumi’s not careful, it’ll pull him under.
“The Third Division is where I belong,” Hoshina says. “Captain Ashiro is an extremely strong combatant, and long range dispatch is the most effective method of reducing collateral damage in kaiju elimination. You’ve been in the meetings. You get the same reports I do. The best thing we can do - the best thing I can do - is clear her path.”
“That’s a load of bull.” Narumi spits. “You’re so much fucking stronger than that, Hoshina Soshiro,” he says, retinas flicking over his body. No. 1 clings to Hoshina’s energy like a moth to a flame. It’s searingly bright, even when it flickers like a candle. “You’re an idiot if you don’t see that.”
“I’m not joining the First, Narumi,” Hoshina says flatly. But his energy crackles under his fingertips, trying to burst out. But without his combat suit as an outlet, it just simmers under his skin.
“Because you’re scared?” Narumi growls. His own energy twitches up too. He shoves at Hoshina’s shoulder, turning him. Hoshina’s back presses into the wall, and he winces. He looks at Narumi, his eyes stabbing up at him like bloody blades.
“I’m not-”
“What are you so fucking scared of?”
Narumi hits the wall hard as Hoshina shoves him back. He finally snaps, and the boiling energy in his fingertips erupts. The shitty plastic divider digs into Narumi’s back, setting his bruises alight with new pain. Narumi groans, and acid pools in his mouth as he thinks of a sufficiently poisonous barb. But then Hoshina’s mouth is on his, soft and hard at the same time - filled with fire.
And then, all of a sudden, it’s gone. Extinguished. Hoshina pulls away, stiffening up. He mutters: “Fuck.”
“Nope-” Narumi grabs him by his sides, just above the bruises on his hips. “You don’t get to run.” He pushes Hoshina against the other divider and leans down to kiss him hard. Hoshina groans as Narumi licks into his mouth. He stops trying to run - can’t do it anyway, he’s pinned. He’s right where Narumi wants him - and Narumi doesn’t know how long he’s wanted him there until he’s got Hoshina squished up between his body and a hard wall. “Don’t pussy out on me now,” Narumi whispers. “You want it, then you fuckin’ take it, Hoshina. Stop fucking running.”
Hoshina glares, and in a flash of red, his lips lock onto Narumi’s again. His tooth snags the corner of Narumi’s lower lip, tugging it down into his mouth. Narumi huffs as Hoshina’s hands wrap greedily around his shoulders, squeezing at his bruised neck. His fingers trace downwards, sharp as his blades. They land on Narumi’s chest, and Narumi gasps as Hoshina’s fingertips press into his fractured ribs.
“Shit, sorry-” Hoshina stiffens, pulling back. But Narumi catches Hoshina’s hand before it slips away, always two seconds ahead. He presses it down into the mottled bruise. It drags a shiver up Narumi’s spine; he lets out a sigh he’s been holding longer than he knows. Hoshina’s eyes flick up to his, red as blood.
“They didn’t give you enough adrenaline for that,” Hoshina whispers.
“Nah,” Narumi agrees. He shakes his head. “They didn’t.”
Hoshina licks his lips, tasting Narumi’s blood and spit on his tongue.
“...You’re fuckin’ with me.”
Narumi shakes his head again.
“You hard?” Hoshina asks. His breath hitches over the words, all choppy like gunfire. Narumi doesn’t need to look to know how much blood’s gone south - he’s felt light-headed since he detected a threat in the shower. Hoshina huffs, “‘Course you fuckin’ are.”
“Sayin’ that like you’re not,” Narumi spits.
He shoves his thigh between Hoshina’s, pinning him back against the stall divider. Hoshina shudders, and his hips push into Narumi’s unbidden. His own hard cock drags against Narumi’s quads. Hoshina’s head bangs against the plastic as he throws it back in a rough moan. Narumi sucks the sound out of his mouth, kissing him roughly as he grinds their hips together. Hoshina’s fingers dig into his chest, pushing at the angry, uneven welts. Bolts of sharp pain crack through the painkillers. Narumi gasps. His own cock leaks between them, flushed and hard. Hoshina’s hand tangles into Narumi’s soaked hair, yanking him back.
“You get off on pain, Gen?” Hoshina whispers, low and sharp, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Narumi groans.
“Seems like you do too,” he spits, “Sick fuck.”
Hoshina’s teeth dig into Narumi’s throat hard enough to bruise. They’re sharp enough that he could probably pierce right into Narumi’s jugular, but Hoshina doesn’t rip out his throat quite yet. And Narumi could get off like this easy - just lazy friction and a bit of pain. He almost does, as Hoshina’s hands roam down his chest, scraping along cuts, and bruises, and friction burns. But it’s Hoshina under him - Narumi remembers it’s fucking Hoshina Soshiro under him.
Narumi snarls as he grabs Hoshina’s wrists, pinning them hard above his head. His retinas snap on, detecting a kaiju. No. 1 goes crazy, mapping all the paths of how the fuck this is going to go, all the possibilities Narumi’s dreamed of, and even some he hasn’t. Narumi’s got a few inches over Hoshina; he’s a little more broad, too. Hoshina's built for speed first - above all else. Narumi's built to tear shit up. So he uses that build, every extra kilo he has, to press Hoshina up against the wall, boxing him in. Hoshina’s throat bobs as he swallows. Narumi studies the motion, following his signal as it blurs between his lips.
“You just gonna stand there and hide behind No. 1,” Hoshina whispers, “Or are you gonna fuck me, Gen?”
Narumi’s retinas nearly blow out. His own electric signals spike, heat bolting down between his legs. Narumi spits out a curse.
“...Dry?” he mutters. Narumi thought he was the masochist of the two of ‘em - but maybe it goes both ways. “You crazy?”
Hoshina rolls his eyes. He easily slips out of Narumi’s lax grasp, and he drops to his knees. Narumi barely has time to brace himself against the divider before Hoshina’s mouth is on his cock.
“Oh, fuck-” he gasps. Narumi tangles his fists into Hoshina’s bowl cut, fingers snagging on the wet strands of his hair. Hoshina roughly grabs his wrist, wrenching it off. “Fuck, got it,” Narumi grunts. He grabs the wall instead, steadying himself as Hoshina swallows him down to the root.
It takes every shred of self control Narumi has left - and he was never working with that much to begin with - not to fuck into his mouth and come right down his throat. Hoshina’s nails dig into his thighs, carving harsh indents on top of the bruises. Narumi’s hips stutter as Hoshina blows him, messy and wet. He glances up at Narumi, eyes half-lidded as he pulls off.
“S’good,” Hoshina pants. Thick saliva drips from the corners of his mouth, trickling down his chin. He doesn’t even bother to wipe it off, just lets it dribble down his chin as he stands and catches his breath. “I don’t need more than that.” Hoshina leans back against the wall. “Fuck me, Narumi,” he whispers. “Or are you scared?”
Narumi growls and shoves him up against the wall. He hooks his hand under Hoshina’s ridiculous, toned thigh and pushes it up. With his other hand, he lines the head of his cock up with Hoshina’s entrance.
“Not on your fuckin’ life,” he mutters, and then he presses into Hoshina.
Hoshina lets out a little gasp as Narumi pushes into him. He’s tight as fuck, clenching around Narumi’s dick like a vise. But Narumi manages to press in deeper and deeper, working his cock in an inch at a time. Hoshina’s energy crackles under No. 1’s gaze. Narumi flicks it on for a second, to find his target. When he bottoms out, he slams into Hoshina’s prostate. Hoshina’s head falls back against the divider. Hoshina’s legs falter for a second, but he grabs the edge of the divider, holding himself steady.
“You good?” Narumi murmurs. Hoshina’s other arm wraps around Narumi’s back. His nails bite into Narumi’s shoulder blade.
“Harder, Captain,” Hoshina sneers, “or are you at your limit?” Narumi curses. Hoshina’s lips find the edge of Narumi’s jaw, and he nips at it. “Give me 100,” Hoshina whispers into his ear, singsong, “if ya can.”
Narumi growls as he grabs Hoshina’s other thigh, lifting him up off the tile. He pushes Hoshina even farther up the plastic divider, shaking his grip on the side of the wall. Hoshina’s legs hook around Narumi’s waist, and he grabs the top of the divider instead, giving him leverage to fuck himself down onto Narumi’s cock. Narumi thrusts up into him with unleashed force, but it’s Hoshina that controls the pace. Narumi slams into him with targeted, kaiju-enhanced precision, and Hoshina lets out a laugh.
Hoshina’s fingers wrap around Narumi’s jaw, then his throat. He curls down over Narumi, pulling him into a breathless kiss. Narumi moans as Hoshina’s knees press into the dark bruises on his side. Hoshina smirks against his mouth.
“You think you can keep up with me, Captain?” Hoshina purrs.
And goddamnit - Narumi can’t. He’s losing, somehow. Narumi knows it - doesn’t even need No. 1 to reveal it to him with its monstrous clairvoyance. Because Narumi’s already on the edge, and Hoshina’s so far from it that he can fucking laugh. Narumi’s about to burst, and Hoshina’s all put together, wrapped up with a fuckin’ bow. Narumi is fucking Hoshina motherfucking Soshiro into a wall and he’s still fucking losing.
Hoshina bites down into Narumi’s bottom lip hard. Narumi lets out a feral moan. His cock jerks inside Hoshina, throbbing from the pain and pleasure lacing together in his gut. Narumi shoves up into Hoshina, rough and deep. Hoshina’s cock grinds into his stomach as they press together. Hoshina finally lets out a moan of his own, quivery as his energy.
“Nah,” Narumi spits, “I’ll let ya finish first.”
Narumi doesn’t miss. Every time he thrusts into Hoshina, he goes for the kill - and he knows he’s hittin’ his fucking mark. Hoshina’s legs tighten around Narumi’s waist, pulling him in. He finds Narumi’s busted ribs and presses in. Dull, molten pain spreads through his chest, melting his nerves. Narumi’s thrusts get a bit sloppy, yeah, but he doesn’t lighten up. Narumi gives it to him, gives it everything he’s got. Hoshina’s hips tremble, and his fist clenches on the divider.
Hoshina yanks Narumi’s chin up. He sucks the blood from Narumi’s split lip, swallowing it down. Hoshina clenches up around him, spilling between their stomachs. It’s filthy - slick, and stained with blood. Makes Narumi’s mouth water. Hoshina’s hand tightens on his throat, driving all the air out of it, and all his better senses too. The head high hits Narumi like a seismic shock. He instantly comes inside of Hoshina, fucking into him until the rush finally leaves him. It feels like eons - it’s gotta be less than that. But Narumi’s battered senses drag out his climax until it’s stretched thin. His eyes blur until Hoshina’s form starts to multiply, even without No. 1 showing him the multiverse.
Hoshina’s steadier than Narumi, when he’s safely back on the ground. Doesn’t mean he’s steady. Narumi leans over him, still pressed into his space. The mix of blood and spit in Hoshina’s mouth paints his lips a glossy red. Narumi still wants to lick it off.
But Narumi’s still sucking air back into his lungs. They’re both breathing too hard to talk. That’s a good enough excuse, for a few seconds at least, for why they don’t have to break the tense silence building between ‘em. Narumi’s probably not in his right mind. But even concussed, he’s got enough brain cells firing to realize that whatever he says next - it counts. He’s too dizzy to put together the right words. Not too dizzy to realize that this isn’t the time to get them wrong.
Sound erupts from the hall - the door banging open with a crash of metal, then it slams shut. Rowdy voices fill the locker room. Narumi could count them, estimate their numbers, if he was in the right mind. But whether it’s one man or ten, the threat is the same. Hoshina immediately locks up, pulling away. He dunks his head back under the shower and slams the dial all the way to cold.
“Hoshina-”
“Vice Captain Hoshina!” Ichikawa says, perking up as he enters the showers. Furuhashi and Kaguragi filter in beside him, then Izumo too, lagging behind. “You were great out there, sir,” he says brightly. “Oh, and you too, Captain Narumi,” he adds, blushing as he turns to Narumi. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.”
“Glad to see you’re all in one piece,” Hoshina says easily, that slender, sharp-eyed mask of his slipping back over his face. He’s out the door before Narumi can even stand up straight. He pats Ichikawa on the shoulder. “Debrief soon, yeah? I’ve gotta run.”
Narumi swallows down a mouthful of something thick as Hoshina walks away. His head throbs, overtaxed. Adrenaline’s starting to wear off - maybe the codeine is too. When he tries to flick on the retinas, they lag. For a second, all he can hear is the thundering rain of the showers.
“Is the vice captain alright?” someone asks.
“Yeah,” Ichikawa shrugs. “He’s just a busy guy.”