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He’s not sure how much he can take of this. Three days in a row, Jotaro has done something so unfairly attractive it only makes Kakyoin wish he could kiss him stupid. Does Jotaro even know how fuck-able he looks when he uses one hand to strike a match against a matchbox and light the cigarette in his mouth, not bothering to take the other hand out of his pocket at all?
Kakyoin barely cares if Jotaro used up all the hot water in the shower, it’d be good for him to freeze his erection now to avoid walking out with it. At least he made it in the steamy bathroom before Jotaro noticed.
The wire hanger against the door takes his button-up and he sheds his undershirt, folding it up before putting it on the counter. He catches his own body in the mirror and an odd jealous vanity washes over him. He doesn’t look as nearly as good shirtless as Jotaro does. But everything Jotaro does is effortless. Maybe there’s pride in hard work to look sexy.
“This hotel sucks,” Jotaro calls out, “they don’t even have porn on the TV.”
Kakyoin nearly chokes on his own spit. The tepid light rope of attraction slacks enough for being a tease to jump forth ahead of his struggling desires. He pops his head out of the bathroom, half mindful of the fact he’s still shirtless. Jotaro sits on the edge of the bed with his legs spread as always, thumbing through TV shows at random.
An incredulous laugh rolls out. “You can’t be serious. Do you really want to look your grandfather in the eye tomorrow morning and ask him to pay the tab on your pay-per-view? Besides,” the adrenaline of the funny comment is wearing off. He returns to the bathroom and half-shouts his following comment. He regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. “What am I supposed to do? Sit in here while you take care of yourself?”
“Well,” Jotaro sighs mildly, “you could join me.”
Everything freezes.
Kakyoin’s hand stills in the middle motion of undoing his belt and he stops short of closing the bathroom door.
He’s joking, right? That first sentence was, at least, but Kakyoin’s too keyed up to grab the right tone out of Jotaro for the other comment. It hits way too close to the idle fantasies Kakyoin keeps private and Jotaro is brazenly offering the exact thing he’s been daydreaming about.
He’s joking.
The TV shuts off.
He’s joking.
Kakyoin’s already idling way too long to make a follow-up remark not seem awkward. He could open the door wide and face Jotaro, ask him if he’s serious, though the amount of ways that could go wrong is spectacular. Or he could just… ignore it. Pretend he didn’t freeze and is all suave and confident as Jotaro is. But—Jotaro literally just offered mutual masturbation. He doesn’t want to ignore that at all.
The other Crusaders praised Kakyoin for his smarts and here he was letting the blood in his brain drain toward his hardening cock.
Kakyoin weighs a cost-benefit analysis on if trying to flirt back is worth it. He could fuck it up. He could be joking. He could be reading too much into it. He could be serious.
Kakyoin doesn’t finish taking off his belt, but he does open the door back open to gauge Jotaro. He’s still sitting on the bed, but instead of upright and flipping through channels, the remote is on the dresser and Jotaro is sitting back on his hands. He still hasn’t bothered to put on clothes yet. Water drops off his black hair and onto his chest, sliding down his abs and beautifully scarred skin before landing on the bed. The towel around his waist hangs on, but due to his spread legs, it threatens to unravel at his hip.
There’s a very dangerous dip between Jotaro’s hip and his belly. Not for the first time Kakyoin imagines himself dragging his hand down Jotaro’s chest, marveling at the plush curves and sharp divots, before sliding his palm, then wrist, in that valley.
Jotaro bends his head back and looks at Kakyoin. The curls in his hair bounce as he settles the side of his chin on his shoulder. Even with direct eye contact Kakyoin can’t tell what Jotaro is doing. He’s not wearing his usual scowl, he just looks tired. Fed up. Bored. Simply looking at him, not saying a word. There’s really no way to tell if Jotaro’s serious about the proposition, but Kakyoin’s pretty sure he’ll throw something if it turns out that Jotaro was flirting with him and he ignored the remark.
There’s much more value in erring on the side of caution. Jotaro’s own impulsivity is proof of that—how many of those scars on his chiseled ads were caused by punching first and asking questions later? It’s really not much to divert the line of questioning here either.
Kakyoin thinks back to earlier that day when Jotaro heaved the massive crate of leaking jerrycans of water and gas over his shoulder and out of the broken Jeep and remembered that Jotaro probably carried his passed-out body just as easily.
Okay. This attraction was getting worse. He either needed a private hour with lube or kiss Jotaro into apologizing for how hot he is.
He leaps into the stupid middle ground.
Kakyoin swallows, his throat dry, and tips his head forward. “Join you?”
Jotaro lets a short puff of air out through his nose—dismissal—and bobs his head back towards the blank TV. He remains silent and he doesn’t attempt to grab the remote or move to dress. Realization hits Kakyoin like a train. Jotaro is waiting for him.
The embarrassment over being shirtless or of the prospect of sex dies off like mayflies. Jotaro could easily shift the conversation too, but he’s waiting for Kakyoin to make a decision. He looks bored, but there’s that calculating spark of anticipation. What is there to be afraid of when Jotaro is suggesting sex in the vaguest most indirect way possible? Is he shy? About this? Interesting.
Kakyoin smiles and walks around the bed to stand between Jotaro and the TV.
“What?” Jotaro huffs, his expression bleeding boredom. “I thought you were going to take a shower.”
“And leave you here all by yourself?” Kakyoin smirks, satisfaction skyrocketing when Jotaro’s face twitches into surprise. Tension grabs Jotaro by the neck, then shoulders, and even at his gut. All the way down, Kakyoin has made him nervous. Good.
Kakyoin breaks eye contact, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders loosen. A demonstration of Jotaro’s cool untouched self moments before. For good measure, he mimics the same dismissive puff of air through his nose and walks back to the bathroom. With each step, his throat tightens in anticipation but he gets all the way through the door and is able to shut it without any motion from Jotaro.
Maybe he gets to look cool for a moment, but it’s not enough for Jotaro to stop him from moving away. There’s a thick moment of only the bathroom fan running, before Kakyoin sighs and lets the ball roll back into Jotaro’s court.
Kakyoin finally takes off his belt, finding himself still hard. His fingers twitch to take care of it, as it was his original plan in the shower anyway, but he restrains himself. He has hope that his fantasies aren’t going to fade away when he steps out of the bathroom. Or Jotaro won’t take the challenge at all and they’ll have to awkwardly sleep on the queen bed with their back to each other the entire night. Not to mention the morning. Kakyoin may have just fucked up the fabric of their friendship. Jotaro may have triggered the first move, but Kakyoin could’ve backed out before it got too far. This is what he gets for thinking with his dick. A screwed-up friendship.
But… he’s not going to say no if Jotaro offers.
He slides on his striped pajama bottoms but forgoes the rest. He spots Jotaro in bed immediately, peaking over the bedspread his wet hair—come on really?—and bare shoulders. His birthmark looks purple in the low light of the room. As casual as Kakyoin can summon with the ball of pressure in his gut, he slides into the other side of the bed. The bed is big enough to avoid touching, especially with Jotaro on his side, back towards Kakyoin.
Dead air wraps around their heads as Kakyoin waits for a miracle, but it doesn’t come and his shoulders grow cold exposed to the drafty hotel room. He turns onto his side, chilled and regretful that he didn’t put on his shirt.
“Fuck you.”
Jotaro’s voice bounces across the sheets with an echo. Half his hearing is muted from the pillow and Kakyoin at first isn’t sure he heard him right. “I’m sorry?”
Jotaro doesn’t say anything for a moment. Frustration and regret build but Kakyoin chooses to just bottle it. He doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of an argument.
“You didn’t get off, did you?” Jotaro mutters and Kakyoin snaps his eyes open to the moonlight darkness, his gut performing a somersault. “I’m sick of waiting,” the bedspread shifts, and Jotaro's voice hits with clarity, “let’s just get this over with.”
Huh?
Kakyoin looks over his shoulder and finds Jotaro on his back looking right at him with a steel glint in his eye. He’s frustrated all right. “What?” Kakyoin cautiously prompts. Jotaro glares, the light barely catching his squinting eyes.
“Jacking off,” he states as if that’s an answer that makes sense to Kakyoin.
“Oh,” was this actually happening? “Why… why didn’t you, um, do it earlier?” The opportunity was certainly there. Kakyoin left for the bathroom and he spent plenty of time in there for Jotaro to get relief.
Visible tension winds Jotaro’s neck and jaw. It’s the same tremble as the one Kakyoin left him with earlier. He’s not just desperate to get off, Kakyoin’s eyes widen, he’s still waiting. Hatless, Jotaro is unable to run away from this desire and to his credit, doesn’t cower in embarrassment over his next words. “Because… you didn’t get off in the shower.”
Holy shit, Jotaro tried to listen to him masturbate? The image falls on top of Kakyoin like an avalanche. Jotaro near the bathroom door, towel on the floor, cock in hand, and eager to scratch the itch but holding back. Because he wants to hear Kakyoin get off.
Kakyoin takes back everything he’s ever said about Jotaro’s suaveness. The parts that look natural are unintentional and the intentional, when it comes, is the hottest thing Kakyoin has ever heard. Kakyoin’s voice shakes when he speaks, “you weren’t joking.”
Endorphins jettison Kakyoin to flip all the way over, daring to slide a little closer but not sure if he has permission to touch. From this angle, Kakyoin can see the same surprise in Jotaro’s eyes, it’s just muddled by the stark expression on his face. As Kakyoin settles down, Jotaro takes a short deep breath and brings his hand up. He points his finger up and leans in close as his brow furrows further. With nothing else moving and tension straining them both, Kakyoin is glued to Jotaro’s words of consent.
It’s… not quite consent.
“Before we do this, understand this is just about stress relief. Don’t give me any of that relationship shit in the morning, got it?”
Disappointed, but exactly what he was expecting from Jotaro. Unfortunately for Jotaro, Kakyoin isn’t set on sticking to those rules. Jotaro is still avoiding it, even after being so brazen. There doesn’t need to be a name for whatever is about to happen and even if there is, he’s sure Jotaro wouldn’t be able to pin one down, but that’s fine. All that is fine.
But he doesn’t want Jotaro on the lam.
“Let me guess…” Kakyoin hums, holding back from touching. “No hickeys? No kissing on the lips?”
Jotaro quirks an eyebrow, vulnerability slipping through. With equal parts shock and reverence under a plain tone, he asks, “You’ve done this before?”
Kakyoin shakes his head as best as he can with his head on the pillow. “No. I’ve never had sex… or anything like this before. Have you?” Be honest, Kakyoin says between the lines.
Jotaro grants him the truth, “no.” Good. He squints again at Kakyoin. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
Jotaro works his jaw. Kakyoin can’t read him well enough to know if he is catching on to what’s happening. Either way though, the chase continues and Jotaro continues to give him the truth.
“That I shouldn’t be a virgin,” he waits a beat. “That I have girls all over me.”
“Sure,” Kakyoin answers for him, “but that doesn’t mean you’re interested in any of them.” Before the conversation veers off into a discussion about sexuality, Kakyoin steers it back to what they both want. He sits up on his elbow. “How do you want this?”
The silence that follows is a bit too full for Kakyoin’s taste. He breaks it before Jotaro could even try. “I mean, by if you want to touch me or if we just watch each other. Or—can I touch you?”
Jotaro swallows and throws off the duvet, kicking the edge of it for good measure to let overconfidence override his fear. Kakyoin doesn’t linger to make him uncomfortable, but does get an eyeful of what he’s about to put in his hand. He’s hard too and—Kakyoin refuses to gawk—thick. A good thick. He’d love to have it in his mouth, see what all the fuss is about when it comes to oral sex, but he’d want patience from Jotaro on that first journey and that’s not something he’s going to get in this state.
Kakyoin throws the rest of the duvet covers to the edge of the bed and sits up. He watches Jotaro carefully for signs of discomfort as he swings his legs over Jotaro’s hips and sits down on his tense thighs. It’s not skin to skin quite, but his pajamas are thin and the contact is short-circuiting Kakyoin’s brain. Already, just from sitting on his lap, anticipation boils him and it’s quite obvious to see the effect that’s having. Jotaro’s body is so warm. Comfortably warm.
A new daydream breaks into Kakyoin’s brain—one with his chest flush against Jotaro’s sweaty back and hand wrapped around his heaving torso while Kakyoin palms the length between Jotaro’s legs. Holding him in place on his side in a tight cuddle as Jotaro moans for more.
Finding no signs of discomfort, Kakyoin wraps his hand around Jotaro’s cock and mimics what he’d do for himself. It’s not that different from his own, again, the heat and weight of it is familiar. But what is new is the sharp inhale from Jotaro and the way his dick twitches and leaks in his hand. No wonder Jotaro doesn’t seem to care about lube.
There’s pressure to thrust up into Kakyoin’s hand, but Jotaro is intentionally holding back on it, leaving his thighs and belly twitching. “Cute.”
“Watch it,” Jotaro breathily grunts, but it’s a defanged warning. He’s got his eyes closed and his head rolled back, exposing his neck that Kakyoin only wants to scrape his teeth against. His hands aren’t touching Kakyoin. They’re on the bed, squeezing the sheets.
As attractive as it is that Jotaro is literally wet for him, only using precum to pave the way to orgasm isn’t Kakyoin’s preference. It’s hot that Jotaro seems eager to get it done this way though. Kakyoin slows his strokes and tightens his fist. “Can you get off just from this? You’re so wet already.”
“Watch it,” Jotaro growls again, but does resettle his hands first on Kakyoin’s hips, then drags his fingers down under the waistband. He tries to pull them down, but Kakyoin doesn’t move to help him out. They lock eyes for a brief moment, Jotaro exasperated, Kakyoin teasing. He lets the waistband go, leaving one hand digging a thumb into the sweet valley between his happy trail and hip, while the other hand cups his dick through the pajamas.
The pressure immediately pulls a moan out of Kakyoin. Unexpected, he blushes and steadies his breathing to recover. Jotaro isn’t letting it go. He drags the thin fabric with his grip, spreading pleasure from his cock head to his balls. Fondling shouldn’t feel this good. A damp patch forms where his dick strains and fights the barrier as Jotaro drags his thumb over the patch. “A-Ah…”
Jotaro does something with his wrist and Kakyoin jolts his hips into his loose grip, matched with another gasp. Kakyoin lets go of Jotaro’s cock and sits up on his knees above Jotaro. The motion clicks instantly for its intent and Jotaro’s hand at his hip shoves down the waistband.
When he thought about losing his virginity, Kakyoin admittedly put it on a very high pedestal. He’s never not considered it until far into a relationship, until Jotaro broke that streak. Even still, he thought about that path with him in an ambiguous time sometime after this Crusade. What Kakyoin never bothered to think about was the ‘reveal’. The anticipation and embarrassment of his lover seeing his cock with the intent to make him cum. The headrush hits Kakyoin just as the waistband catches on his hard dick and Jotaro has to maneuver his pants out of the way.
This is unexpected and delightfully erotic. Kakyoin ignores that his cock is on full display as best as he can, he focuses instead of the unexpected delight in watching Jotaro marvel at him. His breathing changes, ever so slightly, deeper and his mouth open a tad. Jotaro licks his bottom lip and his eyes gleaming with need. It’s strangely subtle in Jotaro fashion, but Kakyoin can see how he looks in Jotaro’s eyes.
Desirable.
The ‘first’ passes when Jotaro wraps his large hand around his throbbing cock and gets to work stroking him. It’s great at first, and a second headrush follows with the feeling of Jotaro of all people keeping him hard. However, the lack of lube and doing this upright on his knees isn’t doing it for him. He needs to be closer. He wants to grind his cock against Jotaro’s belly and thighs and just keeping rutting until he cums. Or against Jotaro’s cock to solve the dry issue.
Kakyoin gets back on the bed, on his side, and this time he’s close enough for his chest to crowd Jotaro’s arm against his body. With half the work done, he kicks off his pants and grabs Jotaro’s exposed arm to tug him onto his side to face him. Kakyoin manhandles them successfully until they’re chest to chest and their cocks are almost flush against each other. He slides their legs together, wraps an arm around his waist, and glances up at Jotaro sweaty, twitchy face. “Do you have any lube?”
“No,” Jotaro’s free hand rests on the curve of Kakyoin’s ass. “Do we need it?”
“Yes?” Jotaro is still leaking, giving a lovely slide, but it’d feel and sound so much sexier with the schlap of fucking into a wet and messy fist.
Jotaro rests his knuckles on the seam of their wet stomachs pressed together. He grinds back against Kakyoin’s slow roll, mouth slacking as he does. The effect of sex has made them both debauched—red and gasping and eyes blown wide. Jotaro recovers his syncopated breathing. “Can’t you just—grab your fucking conditioner or something?”
Kakyoin frowns and grinds his hips hard, making Jotaro wince. “I use that for my hair, Jotaro. Or for shaving sometimes. It’s a precious resource and I’m not using it as lube.”
“You’re funny when you’re nervous,” Jotaro mutters and gets a light smack to his back courtesy of Kakyoin. Despite the retaliation, a pleased smile still sneaks onto Jotaro’s face.
“Can you focus on the job at hand?” Kakyoin snarks and moves closer to Jotaro’s face, the approach disguised by an uneven thrust. They’re barely chasing any high like this. Jotaro has the intent resting, idly scratching, in the valley of their pressed stomachs, but he’s not committing to it.
Jotaro actually rolls his eyes and Kakyoin gives a sweet laugh as he does. Jotaro huffs and gazes with dreamy half-lidded eyes. “A pun? Good grief you piss me off,” and then he leans his face towards Kakyoin, closing the gap.
It’s smooth and instinctual, how Jotaro arrives with his chapped lips against Kakyoin’s acne-scarred cheekbone. The action must’ve caught up to him, because Jotaro suddenly stills and only scrapes his lips across his cheek, giving nothing Kakyoin craves for. Jotaro jolts his face away and instead lets his cheek to press against Kakyoin’s face and not his lips and nose.
The almost-kiss reveals his hand, bleeding his cards completely to Kakyoin. It’s such a vulnerable display that Kakyoin nearly feels bad for Jotaro, until he figures that he would hate him for pitying him for something like this. Kakyoin debates pointing out his hypocrisy, but Jotaro makes the decision for him.
Jotaro shoves his hand between their stomachs and wraps his hand around both their cocks. The distraction works—Jotaro is a damn faucet down there and his grip is slick and hot. Not quite to Kakyoin’s exact liking but good enough to draw a guttural moan out as Jotaro sets a fast pace. The size, twitch, and wetness of his cock against his own is so fucking hot that Kakyoin no longer cares about the brush of lips. He whines and thrusts into the grip. It’s perfect luck that Jotaro has big enough hands to hold them like this and be good at getting them off.
“God,” he moans into Jotaro’s collarbone. He couldn’t escape their height difference. “Keep going. D-Don’t stop.”
Jotaro doesn’t say a word, but this close Kakyoin doesn’t even need to look at his face. His breathing is stuttered and he’s starting to match Kakyoin’s own desperate thrusting. He even gives a quiet moan when Kakyoin grabs his ass to pull him closer, closer. Better, it’s getting even wetter and Kakyoin has to privately praise Jotaro’s masturbation skills for his technique. Each long stroke digs his knuckles into Kakyoin’s stomach, right through a barely-there happy trail, but regardless the sensation makes him more desperate. His grip is tight, squeezing and so fucking wet.
“So good,” he mumbles, desperate to lick and kiss Jotaro chest, but unsure if he was allowed to. He splits the difference by pressing his lips against the skin beneath his collarbone. Jotaro nods his head against Kakyoin’s skull, flattening the damp hair.
Jotaro half gasps and grunts with a sudden forceful jolt of his hips, it actually rocks the bed hard enough for the old box spring to squeak. Kakyoin hasn’t been paying attention to anything besides the sounds coming out Jotaro’s mouth, but maybe it’s worth to hear the efforts of their humping like this.
He thrusts off rhythm again and Kakyoin’s cock nearly slips out of Jotaro’s hand. This may be his first time having sex, but he knows at least consistent rhythm is important and he can tell that they’ve slipped down a slope. Kakyoin tries to recover the tension by groping where he can reach—thighs and chest mostly, but Jotaro is steadily slowing down.
“Need help?” Kakyoin murmurs into Jotaro’s chest, his throat sticky and dry.
Jotaro only breathes harder through his nose, grunting more, but it’s all heated forced frustration. Nothing that’s tipping towards a peak. Kakyoin slows down to a crawl and holds Jotaro’s hip in place as he grinds into him. After a moment, Jotaro lets their cocks go. Kakyoin can practically hear the frown and doesn’t bother to ask what happened.
“Do you want to keep going?”
Silence.
Kakyoin pulls his head out of Jotaro’s neck and straightens up to get a good look at him. His brow is digging a trench on his face and his eyes are pinched tight. Kakyoin stops moving all together and rubs his hand all the way up his flank, over his wire-tight shoulders, and up the back of his neck.
Strands of damp red hair stick to Kakyoin’s face, but he doesn’t bother to fix it. He lets his fingers roam the soft locks on the back of Jotaro’s head, dreaming of grabbing him by the hair. “I know you don’t want to, but you have to talk. I don’t mind lying here.”
Jotaro’s lips make an audible sound when they open. “I said none of that relationship shit.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Kakyoin isn’t sure what Jotaro is exactly referring to, it could’ve been anything under that description.
Kakyoin’s never been good at hiding what he wants. No matter what, his intentions end up plain to see either through slip-ups or complete, unnatural dismissals. The truth is that he’s been doomed from the start. There’s no way he could sell Jotaro on the idea of having casual sex, yet here they both were. And suffering from it. This, and so much more.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” worried about being too sensual, Kakyoin removes his hand from Jotaro’s hair and traces the edges of his star-shaped birthmark. “But don’t treat this like it doesn’t matter. This is my first time having sex, you know. I just don’t want you to turn your back on me.”
Jotaro exhales through his nose with the same rush of release as a bomb getting shut off. He opened his eyes and all the tension Kakyoin could see in his body begins to disappear through the gloss in those seaweed eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers.
“Why?” Kakyoin asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“I’m not good at this.”
“It doesn’t matter if you are or not, I don’t care,” Kakyoin rubs his palm down Jotaro’s back. “Listen, you can look at this thing between us however you want to, okay? I just have one condition.”
“Hm?”
“Could you…” Kakyoin licked his lips. His fingers dig into the soft line of flesh beside his spine. “Stop holding back? Go all out. Kiss me. Be kissed. I won’t leave a mark anywhere that someone can see, but for this—please give me your all.”
Jotaro closes eyes and his mouth wrinkles in a miserable arc. “You’re asking for a lot.”
“I want to make you cum, Jotaro.” Underneath Kakyoin’s palm, he shivers. His eyes stay closed, but his face returns to that good tension. “If nothing else, let me take care of you.”
Jotaro shivers again and opens his eyes. He looks so delicate like this—eyes sparkling, sweaty, his damp hair flopping on the pillow at bouncy angles. His words are a whisper that come out as a private realization. “You really want me, do you?”
“Yeah. I do,” Kakyoin smiles and gets his face close enough to bump noses. Jotaro doesn’t turn away. “Can I tell you something?”
The hand pressed against Jotaro’s back drifts down to his ass, then to the back of his thick thigh. He gets a full solid grope of fat and hamstring and lifts it so to settle it over his hip. Their cocks, flagged during the break, harden again as Kakyoin moves to lay on his back with Jotaro strung over him.
Jotaro follows the cue and pushes himself up, but doesn’t break eye contact or step away from his proximity to Kakyoin’s lips. He mirrors Kakyoin’s position from earlier, only he’s big enough to nearly dwarf Kakyoin’s waist between his thighs. They squeeze as he rubs his wet cock against Kakyoin’s. He lies down and props himself up with one forearm under Kakyoin’s bicep and trails the other down his chest. As he goes, he lifts himself up to give space for his hand to wander and admire. Kakyoin lets him touch whatever he wants, it’s attractive to see the strength in his shoulder as he positions himself to get them off again.
He takes his time; running his nails over the scars, pale skin breaking out into gooseflesh, and thumbs pebbling nipples. His eyes dart between Kakyoin’s lips, cheeks, and eyes. Still, he doesn’t move to kiss him yet. Kakyoin wants the pleasure of Jotaro breaking his own rule first before going all out himself. In wait, he grinds back against Jotaro’s deep rolling thrusts, waiting for the pace to pick up and Jotaro to wrap his hand around them again or for him to kiss him. As he clearly wants to.
“What do you want to tell me?” Jotaro reprompts, the timber of his voice reaching so deep, Kakyoin can feel it in his bones.
Kakyoin leaves one hand on Jotaro’s back and brings to other to cup Jotaro’s cheek. He’s not pulling away, he’s letting himself be pulled closer. Looking at him right in the eye, Kakyoin states, “when I masturbate, I think of you.”
Jotaro’s breathing stutters and his hand finally grabs their cocks. The pace is quick, and a tad sloppy compared to what it was before. Is he really riling him up this quickly? He still hasn’t said all that much, but he’s happy to oblige Jotaro’s reaction.
“I think about you moaning my name as I suck you off. You’ll get precum all over my face, so desperate to release or fuck my throat, but you hold back. Like a good boy. Do you want to cum down my throat?” Jotaro thrusts hard and squeezes even tighter to a near painful degree. His stroking is getting faster and he lets a wobbly moan escape. Kakyoin’s hand holding his head manages to keep Jotaro from bending forward and crying into the pillow. As erotic as that would be, Kakyoin wants to hear him.
Jotaro’s eyes flutter closed, his focus narrowing in on getting off. Kakyoin’s not that far behind, but he wants Jotaro to give in completely before cumming.
“I’ve thought about tying you up with Hierophant, holding you still and unable to move as I use you. I want you trembling and twitching to cum but you can’t because I didn’t say that you could.”
“Jesus Christ, Kakyoin,” he moans.
“Noriaki,” he corrects as he struggles to thrust to Jotaro’s pace. “I like to think of you cumming nonstop because I can’t stop touching you. I want to hear you beg for more as you’re covered in your own mess and your legs are spread wide open. So fucking eager for me.”
A half whine involuntarily falls out of Jotaro’s mouth as he humps faster. Kakyoin wants to drown in the sound, getting closer to the edge of oblivion, but he can’t yet. He still hadn’t gotten what he wants.
To burn off his frustration, he drags his nails down Jotaro’s back, leaving red lines. Kakyoin keeps Jotaro’s face right against his. With his whole body bouncing with each thrust, it would take negative effort to leave a kiss on the lips.
“Do you think of me when you get off? The next time I’m not here to give a helping hand, I hope you cum to the thought of me fucking your throat.”
His mouth drops into another guttural moan and instead of using the last of his strength to finish them off, Jotaro opens his eyes again. Glazed a bit but sharp and clear with revenge. Jotaro smashes his face into Kakyoin, insistently licking into his mouth as his nose bruises his cheek from the force of the kiss. Kakyoin’s mouth is dry as hell, but neither of them give a shit and kiss for the first time, not caring about the quality of that either.
Kissing snaps something in them both and there’s a lull where sliding tongues is more on their mind than cumming is. Kakyoin winds his hand through Jotaro’s hair a tugs only enough to breathe and say, “Say my name. Cum for me, Jotaro.”
“Fuck,” he swears, pitchy. Jotaro hikes his hips up, off the lap and Kakyoin’s cock falls out of his grasp, but Jotaro tightens his fist over his own. He pumps it furiously, not a single other thought on his mind other than cumming.
“I want to hear you moan my name. Please.”
“Ngh—" he gasps and thrusts harder, “Noriaki—"
He chokes and gasps and his hips slow to languid humps as he spills into his hand. Kakyoin can’t see it but he can feel the way cum drips down in messy wet globs. He can finally hear the slick noises of Jotaro jacking off, still, into his hand. There’s so much cum on his stomach, he feels owned, as if there’s no one else in this world that’s Jotaro’s other than him.
There’s no pressure on his cock, but he might be able to cum just from Jotaro marking his chest in such a debauched way. The sound stops and more lands on his dick—oh God this was beyond fantasy. He could imagine in brief moments of being covered in Jotaro’s cum, but this was so much more than what he had ever dreamed of.
It’s hard to hear Jotaro gasping to get a grip on breathing over Kakyoin’s own choked moans. Kakyoin’s entire body jolts when Jotaro sits back down on his lap. He slides his forearm backwards and leans away for a moment to look down at Kakyoin with a view. They each steal a look down at the new angle to watch Kakyoin’s cock bob and drip with both pre and Jotaro’s cum. Kakyoin is about to throw his values to the floor and beg to be touched but the determined look in Jotaro’s inky eyes makes the words die in his throat.
He leans back into the same position as before when they got off together. Chest to chest, hip to hip, thighs tensing. Jotaro, hand full of his own cum, squeezes Kakyoin’s throbbing cock, who whimpers at the touch. It’s not enough to finish as desperately as he needs to happen. Jotaro rests his lips on Kakyoin’s sweaty cheeks, purposefully teasing a kiss this time, and slides up to nuzzle his nose into the floral scented hair just above his ear. Kakyoin tries thrusting into Jotaro’s grip, to move fucking move, but he can’t.
Jotaro breathes heavily into his ear. He’s so close in every possible aspect and he just wants to finish, how Jotaro wrestled control over before he could cum himself is out of his purview. The way Jotaro sounds too—right there with him. The only thing in the room is Jotaro at his ear, no other thoughts or sounds. Kakyoin can’t help but hang on to every single noise that comes out of Jotaro gasping mouth.
His hand moves at last, setting a steady pace and it’s finally enough for Kakyoin to cum. Wet and fast and exactly how he likes it. Pleasure skyrockets, but what tips him over into ecstasy isn’t at all the hand on his cock. It’s Jotaro’s lips brushing against the shell of his ear and whispering with a slick voice, “when I masturbate, I think of you getting me on my hands and knees and fucking me until I can’t cum anymore.”
Kakyoin cries and chokes an erotic sob as he finishes.
Jotaro holds his throbbing cock and shaking body through it. The tension and release steal his breath, holding him down for what feels like a lifetime. His body is pinned, but he jerks his hips with every shot of cum anyway, chasing euphoria even after he’s spent and even when Jotaro’s hand on his cock begins to feel like lava. Exhaustion hits him everywhere in an instant. He’s limp and fatigued and can’t manage to even think of moving or seeing or hearing. His whole world goes dim, like a flickering light, but he’s brought out by Jotaro rolling off of him. He’d look to see to mess, but decides to just feel it instead.
There’s so much cum on his stomach—Jotaro’s too no doubt—it drips down the sides of his chest. He doesn’t want it on the sheets, but he can’t move to wipe it into his belly. His skin prickles like it’s on fire and his body can’t stop shaking. He’s way too hot, but the cold air of the room is shredding his skin at the same time. The temperature cocktail has him only trembling and must wait for the overstimulation to pass. Jotaro says something, but he doesn’t catch the words. Whatever it is, Kakyoin keeps his eyes closed and nods anyway, focusing on his breathing.
Time passes, a few minutes, he thinks, and there’s thick fingers winding through his hair. They don’t stop to caress and scratch though. The hand cups the back of his skull and lifts and Kakyoin has no choice but to face the music. His lower half feels a bit better at least.
He blinks to focus his vision. “What are you—“
“Sit up,” Jotaro demands and Kakyoin doesn’t feel like arguing so he does. He winces again and keeps his legs spread to mitigate the sharp buzz. He may have cramped something, but isn’t given an opportunity to check before a plastic cup of water is shoved into his hands. He takes a sip, has the ambrosia hit the back of his throat, then drains the cup as fast as possible. Jotaro holds his wrist to get him to slow down. “When the hell was the last time you drank water?”
In the car. When it was sunlight at least, but he honestly can’t remember. He takes a slower sip. “I’m dehydrated? Is that why I feel so… raw?”
“I don’t know,” Jotaro takes the empty and replaces it with another full cup. Efficient. “You’re shivering.”
“‘M cold,” he mumbles around the cup. When he finishes it he hands it over and gets a good look at Jotaro.
He’s sitting, still naked, on the bed but all sign of their activity is gone. He looks down at himself and the cum is gone there too. Just a sore red dick, sweaty thighs, and a vague wetness left behind like a he was cleaned with a wet towel.
“You alright?” Jotaro asks, the smooth rolling tones of his voice clearing the fog a bit more.
“Yeah, I, uh…” he swallows and runs his hands down his thighs. They tingle oddly as if his legs were asleep. “I’ve never… um…”
Jotaro huffs and slides off the bed, empty cups pinched between his fingers. “You said all that shit and now you’re bashful? Good grief.”
“I didn’t expect to pass out. Did I worry you? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That was…” he pauses and puts the cups next to the broken coffee maker, “intense.”
That didn’t answer his question.
The duvet is still stuck at the edge of the bed. Feeling the chill and still shivering from it, he grabs it and fixes the bed as Jotaro walks back. They take their place on their sides of the bed, with Jotaro yawning and flopping on to his side, with his back to Kakyoin.
“Don’t give me any of that relationship shit in the morning, got it?”
Kakyoin remains sitting up, not even against the headboard, unsure what to do. Seeing Jotaro’s defensive sleeping position causes Kakyoin’s brain to hiccup and for a very brief moment he questions of what just happened was real. He’s sore and he still won’t stop shivering so he knows that it was, but to be left high and dry like this is callous even for Jotaro.
“Lay down.”
“Huh?” Kakyoin looks over at Jotaro who’s scowling again at him over his shoulder. Jotaro turns on to his back.
“Lay down, on your side. You looked like a kicked puppy.”
Kakyoin eases a frustrated sigh out through his nose and swallows. There’s a pinch in the back of his throat that he despises, but Jotaro is right that he needs to sleep. Everything else can be saved for the morning. Kakyoin pushes himself down the bed and lays down on his side, facing away from Jotaro.
“Goodnight,” he mutters into his pillow. Disappoint begins to fill his chest, but it cuts off a few drops in when the bed shifts and Jotaro’s hand rests on his shoulder. He flinches at first, but Jotaro is magnificently warm and Kakyoin leans into it, chasing each bit of steady, sure, touch as he runs his hand down his flank then up across his chest. As gentle as a flower petal landing on a pond, Jotaro slots his back against Kakyoin’s and waits for Kakyoin to lean back into him before shuffling even closer. Kakyoin tries to glance over his shoulder but finds Jotaro hiding his face from view by burying it against the back of his neck.
“Quit it,” Jotaro grumbles, “let me take care of you.”
Oh.
Kakyoin smiles wide enough for his cheeks to hurt and covers Jotaro’s hand with his own. He squeezes it against his chest to be tighter against Jotaro. The uncomfortable buzz fades and the worry washes away like sandcastles on a shore. “You’re so sweet,” Jotaro blows a hot breath across his neck. “We should do this more often.”
“Not if you keep talking.”
Kakyoin chuckles with his mouth closed and smiles harder knowing Jotaro can feel his laughter. “I think we’ve proved that you like it when I talk.“
“Good grief… maybe I should’ve just stuck to cigarettes.”
“Right, this was stress relief. I’m glad I was good enough that you’re not having a cliché cigarette after sex.”
Jotaro adjusts his arm and lets Kakyoin thread their fingers together. “You’re funny when you’re fucked out too,” he mutters with a soft, tired cadence.
“And you’re cute all the time. When you’re stressed and when you’re having an orgasm,” Kakyoin rubs his thumb against the side of Jotaro’s index finger and closes his eyes, letting his body relax completely into the bed. Just as tired as Jotaro’s tone before he repeats, “give me your all.”
“No relationship shit,” Jotaro hums, his voice drippy and addled with sleep. He says that, but there’s not a single indication that he’s still on the lam.
“We’ll work on that,” Kakyoin whispers back. His body is warm and no longer shivering.