Work Text:
Doppo expects the apartment to be dark and empty when he stumbles in the door. He's already thinking about how he's going facedown into his bed the literal instant his shoes and tie come off, or maybe the couch if he can't make it that far, so it takes until he's got the door locked behind him to register in his exhausted brain that the apartment is neither dark nor empty.
Also, it smells amazing. The odor of curry, garlic, and onions is drifting out of the kitchen, along with a questionable rendition of the Johnny's Entertainment song that Doppo's ears have been afflicted by on every electronic billboard in Shinjuku for the last week.
"I'm home?" he calls like it's a question. One shoe comes off easily but the other is tied too tightly, making Doppo grumble in aggravation.
"Welcome back!" Hifumi calls from the kitchen. Doppo's recalcitrant shoe pops off, leaving a mark on the wall. He ignores it and pads out of the genkan in socked feet, slipping on the wood floor because he's too tired to lift his feet the whole way. He shoots a longing glance towards his couch on the way into the kitchen.
Hifumi is indeed making curry, which Doppo would love him for even if he weren't doing it dressed only in sweatpants and the frilly pink apron his host club friends bought him as a gag gift. Hifumi loves it unironically; Doppo appreciates they way it leaves Hifumi's whole back bare for Doppo to flop against.
"Don't you have work?" he asks, letting his forehead rest against the curve of Hifumi's neck and sagging against him more heavily than he probably should with Hifumi in front of the stove. Hifumi doesn't budge, used to it, patting Doppo's arms where they lock around his waist. "It's Saturday."
"Big client rented out my whole club for her birthday," Hifumi explains. He laughs. "Do you know how much money that is? Anyway, I spilled a drink on her once when she got too handsy, so I wasn't invited. Suits me fine! The only client I want to spoil is the one who just got home~."
"Sap," Doppo mutters. Hifumi smells really good, like himself instead of his cologne for work, a little musky like he'd taken a nap earlier and not showered yet. Doppo turns his face in against Hifumi's skin and breathes in more of it from Hifumi's hair line. He's so warm.
Hifumi doesn't keep up the conversation, focused on what he's doing. Doppo doesn't care; the couch is definitely too far away, so he's content to stand where he is, even when Hifumi goes back to humming that goddamn pop song again. Doppo's hands start to roam, though, the apron fabric textured under his fingertips as opposed to the smoothness of Hifumi's shoulder against his cheek. Eventually he pulls one hand back to slide it under the apron from the side, splaying his palm over the warmth of Hifumi's bare stomach.
"Hey, you," Hifumi scolds, when Doppo's hand drifts lower. "Don't distract the cook unless you want burnt curry."
Doppo knows Hifumi's 'seriously stop' voice, and this isn't it. He stretches up just enough to look over Hifumi's shoulder at the state of the food. "It's simmering. Do you really have to watch it?"
He doesn't wait for Hifumi's answer before he steps back just far enough to turn Hifumi by the shoulder and push him back against the counter. Hifumi blinks at him, the pink flush of his cheeks from leaning over the stove charming under his gold eyes. "Hi."
"Hi," Doppo agrees, stepping into Hifumi's space, hands on Hifumi's back just above the apron's strings to hold him in place for a kiss. Hifumi squirms a little, but doesn't try to escape, so Doppo lets his eyes drift shut. Hifumi's fingers brush his throat, then he undoes Doppo's tie and the top two buttons of his work shirt before Hifumi wraps arms around Doppo's neck to pull him in closer.
He tastes like apple, Doppo thinks, the cuteness of Hifumi giving away his secret curry ingredient by snacking on it making Doppo's mouth curl up at one corner. He slides his hands down past the waistband of Hifumi's sweatpants. Hifumi gives a squeak of surprise at the coldness of Doppo's hands, and Doppo hums at the way Hifumi's ass fits into his hands when he squeezes it, warm and muscled and good.
Doppo uses his grip to rock Hifumi's hips up against his own, too tired to keep a steady rhythm going but good all the same as Hifumi tightens his grip around Doppo's neck and licks into his mouth. He must like it enough, since Doppo can feel Hifumi getting hard against his thigh, not that Hifumi ever doesn't like it when Doppo touches him. Hifumi is making soft, pleased noises against Doppo's mouth, and Doppo drags his lips down to Hifumi's jaw so that the noises will be louder, unmuffled.
"H-hey," Hifumi protests when Doppo presses in with his teeth, and this one is more like stop because Doppo knows the rules about work. Doppo pulls back, licking the skin instead, mouthing at where Hifumi's pulse flutters under his skin. Hifumi winds his fingers in Doppo's hair in apology, murmurs a soft, "Sorry," that digs in, under Doppo's skin.
Without warning, Doppo pulls his hands out of Hifumi's sweats and drops to his knees, gripping his waist to keep from coming down too hard. It's sort of a failure, his knees probably bruising, but Doppo shrugs it off as he yanks his constricting suit jacket down his arms and tosses it out of harms way. He tugs on the bottom frill of Hifumi's apron.
"Off," he orders. Hifumi blinks down at him from above, confused. "It's in the way."
"Sure?" Hifumi reaches behind himself to untie the bow, and then tugs the whole thing over his head, putting it on the counter behind him. He laughs suddenly.
"What?" Doppo demands, only half interested. He's mostly thinking about how tall Hifumi seems when Doppo's down here on his knees. He's like some bullshit Greek statue, a slender golden-haired Apollo that Doppo, some minor anxiety gremlin of the underworld, doesn't have any business touching. Thoughts like those always make Doppo want to put his hands all over Hifumi more, though, to leave fingerprints all over him to prove that he's really skin and not some roped-off museum piece.
"Only Doppo would make me take off the apron to do something naughty," Hifumi explains, still chuckling. It turns into a gasp when Doppo yanks his sweats and briefs down to mid-thigh, baring him to the air.
Doppo doesn't tease, sliding his mouth around Hifumi's dick and sucking. He can already feel his knees sore against the floor and the ache of his already-strained neck, but he can also feel Hifumi's fingers winding back into his hair, perfectly manicured nails scratching against his scalp. He curls one hand around Hifumi's shaft, thumbing the vein on the bottom, but has to wrap his other hand around Hifumi's thigh for balance or he's going to end up flat on his face. There's half a chance his knees will give out before he can finish Hifumi off; it's happened before.
He slows down a little when Hifumi tugs on his hair gently, reminding himself that he likes doing this for Hifumi. He especially likes how Hifumi isn't quiet about how much he likes Doppo doing this for him, murmuring praise and encouragement in between pleased sighs. Doppo dares a glance up and it's almost the death of him; Hifumi's eyes are dilated to only a ring of luminous gold and focused squarely on him, flush creeping down to his throat to his shoulders, nipples drawn up tight.
Doppo can't help his gravelly moan at the sight, having to reach down and grind the heel of his palm against his own hard-on trapped in his work trousers. Hifumi laughs at him, the throaty laugh that makes Doppo twitch against his hand, and Doppo flushes red, embarrassed.
"So cute," Hifumi tells him. He thumbs the cartilage of Doppo's ear gently, making Doppo twitch and whine around his dick. "Mm, I'm close. It's fine to come like this, right?"
Doppo doesn't bother to answer, just closes his eyes and sucks harder, squeezes his hand around Hifumi's base and shivers at the twitch of Hifumi against his tongue. He wants to use his other hand to roll Hifumi's balls or press into the spot just behind them, either of which is guaranteed to send Hifumi over the edge, but he knows if he lets go with the arm braced around Hifumi's thigh that'll be a more humiliating finish for at least one of them. He settles for digging his nails in a little on the inside of Hifumi's thigh. A few marks there are ok.
Hifumi comes obligingly with a choked-off groan, hips stuttering up suddenly. Doppo refuses to pull back, even though his eyes water from the suddenly thrust, until Hifumi slumps against the counter, breathing hard. Doppo swallows; it's just easier and the bitterness is not nearly as bad at the terrible coffee he drinks at work. Mission accomplished, Doppo collapses backwards onto his butt, then gives up and goes the rest of the way down to his back with a groan as his spine realigns with the flat floor.
"Aw, you worked hard, huh?" Hifumi teases as he tugs his sweats back up. He leans over Doppo with a grin. "Thanks for working hard today~."
"Fuck off," Doppo groans. Hifumi holds out a hand to help him up, but Doppo closes his eyes and goes even limper. The floor is cold and hard, but that's where he lives now. "Just leave me here to die."
"Baby," Hifumi says, ignoring Doppo's brush-off and grabbing his hand to haul him up despite his complaints. Doppo gives him a doleful look while Hifumi brushes him off and kisses his forehead. "Anyway, don't you want me to return the favor?"
"Later." Doppo slumps forward to tuck his face back into the warmth of Hifumi's neck.
"Hm, ok," Hifumi hums, dragging a hand through Doppo's hair again; Doppo wraps arms around his waist and clings there, just a minute longer, he swears. "After dinner, it's a promise. I'll even keep the apron on this time~."
"Quit making it weird," Doppo complains, but he's smiling against Hifumi's skin, just a little.