Work Text:
Johnny slowly oozed back into consciousness. He squinted into the dark. It was still night, the heat oppressive on his bare back as he sprawled on his stomach in the small beds there were given at Wu Shi Academy. He dropped his head back to his pillow, annoyed at being woken up by whatever it was that woke him up. He laid there with his eyes closed, focusing on his own breath, trying to lull himself back to sleep.
Then he heard…something.
A shifting, a soft breath, a slightly wet sound coming from the other side of the room where his roommate/rival Kenshi Takahashi had his own bed. And once Johnny heard it, he couldn’t hear anything else.
He opened his eyes, again squinting into the darkness. Moonlight filtered through the high windows, and Johnny waited for his eyesight to adjust.
He could finally make out Kenshi’s profile, the light catching his tongue swiping over his lips, making them shine.
Johnny ached to kiss him.
He was man enough, and certainly bisexual enough, to admit that Kenshi was gorgeous. That smoldering glare, that cocky smirk that sometimes Johnny felt put his own to shame, that hard body. There’d been a few times after they’d been sparring where Johnny had to quickly duck into the shower, desperately stroking himself and cumming embarrassingly fast to the memory of Kenshi’s hands and body against his.
Johnny’s eyes moved down to the sweat shining on Kenshi’s chest over his tattoos. Johnny was obsessed, wondering how far they went down his body, wanting to get the full image that was inked into Kenshi’s skin. He knew Kenshi was incredibly self-conscious about them, and Johnny didn’t blame him. But any glimpse he got of the artwork on Kenshi’s flesh drove him wild.
Then Johnny saw Kenshi’s shoulder shifting, rotating, and felt himself go cold all over. He recognized that motion. Part of him knew he should close his eyes, turn away, ignore what was happening and never speak of it.
But.
Well.
He never did have good impulse control.
His eyes moved lower of their own volition, now seeing how Kenshi’s chest moved as he panted. Down the flat line of Kenshi’s stomach, sweat accenting the lines of his abdominal muscles like the universe was trying to kill Johnny right then and there.
Lower. Kenshi’s wrist against his lower stomach, working up and down.
Lower.
Johnny’s breath caught in his throat.
Kenshi had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, stroking slow, twisting his fist at the head, over and over. His dick glistened in the moonlight, and Johnny could finally connect that soft wet sound he’d been hearing.
Johnny’s mouth went dry and his cock grew hard, pressed between his own body and the mattress. This was a gross invasion of privacy. This was rude. This was…
God, it was hot as fuck.
Johnny felt his hips flex against his mattress, searching desperately for relief. Part of his mind called him pathetic, shamelessly humping his own bed while watching the other man jerk off, but it was quickly silenced when the tight boxer-briefs he’d worn to bed finally dragged against his hard dick in the most delicious way, making him shiver. He bit his bottom lip viciously to silence the moan he felt clawing it’s way up his throat.
Johnny watched as Kenshi’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, his free hand scrubbing across his tattooed chest like he was mindlessly searching for something to hold on to. Johnny’s breath shortened to little pants, his hips grinding against his bed. His underwear was soaked at this point with a combination of pre-cum and sweat, and this time he couldn’t stop the soft whimper in his throat at the lack of friction.
He gave up the pretense, flipping over on to his back, shoving the black boxer-briefs down his legs, and finally wrapping his hand around his aching cock. He could have sobbed in relief.
“Cage?” Kenshi said softly and when Johnny looked over at him the other man’s eyes were wide and unreadable in the dark. He had grabbed the sheet that had been bunched up under his legs and pulled it over his groin.
“Just go with it,” Johnny whispered back, his voice a wreck. “Don’t stop, Kenshi,” The other man’s name came out as a breathy moan as the actor finally stroked himself, long and slow and deliberate.
Johnny’s legs shook with need but he kept his pace slow, watching Kenshi, waiting for the other man to continue. But Kenshi just watched him right back, tongue darting out to wet his lips again.
Johnny dragged his free hand up his own body, slowly, teasingly, and took two of his own fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, eyes still on Kenshi’s. When he drew them from his mouth he knew Kenshi would see them shining, dripping with his own saliva, as he deliberately moved his hand back down his body. He saw Kenshi’s dark gaze follow them down, down, between his thighs, back further. Johnny rubbed his fingers over his own entrance and when Kenshi’s eyes flickered back up to his face, Johnny pushed one into himself.
Electricity jolted through his own body, making his eyes close and his back arch, mouth wide open but only letting loose a small whimper. He gripped his cock hard at the base, barely holding back the orgasm that tried to sneak up on him. He panted, gasping into the darkness as he quickly turned one finger into two. He didn’t go in deep, the angle was too awkward for that and his wrist was already beginning to hurt, but just the tight clutch of himself around his fingers was enough.
When he finally regained enough of his mind to open his eyes he saw Kenshi still staring at him, but he’d pushed aside the sheet and once again had his own cock in his hand, stroking himself faster. Johnny matched the pace, curling his fingers inside himself. He was breathing harder, the sound almost too loud in the room, mouth agape and eyes fixed on Kenshi’s. It was almost annoying how composed Kenshi appeared to be while Johnny knew he was falling apart. He wanted to cross the room, push Kenshi’s hand away, straddle his hips and sit on his dick. Ride him until he was a shaking, needy wreck like Johnny was. He wanted Kenshi to grab his hips until they bruised, bury himself so deep inside that Johnny would feel it for a week and fill him with cum. He wanted his own orgasm to be so intense he couldn’t move.
He wanted to slump onto Kenshi’s chest and feel the other man’s arms around him, their lips meeting.
“K-Kenshi,” Johnny whispered, breathless and barely there, his hips rolling against his hands as his release barreled toward him.
“C’mon,” Kenshi whispered back, his hand nearly a blur on his cock. “Come for me,”
Johnny gasped as he did just that, back arching off the bed almost painfully, panting with the force of it, barely suppressing the moans he choked down in his chest. He forced his eyes open and saw Kenshi follow him over the edge, eyes fluttering closed as he came all over his own chest. The swordsman was panting as well, and Johnny could’ve sworn he heard his own name in there, but that couldn’t be right.
Johnny milked himself firmly as his other hand gripped at the inside of his own thigh, watching Kenshi shiver through his own aftershocks. When the actor also shivered in overstimulation himself he finally let go, his fingers mindlessly kneading into his thighs with a need to ground himself.
They laid there in silence, Johnny watching Kenshi while Kenshi stared at the ceiling, his breathing finally slowing down. They remained like that, Johnny feeling the urge to say something but not wanting to ruin his own afterglow. His eyes had begun to slide shut as sleep took hold when he heard Kenshi move. He watched the other man get off the bed and pad his way over to the connected bathroom.
When the light was on and before Kenshi closed the door, he saw the other man smiling to himself in the mirror over the sink.
Johnny huffed out a soft laugh, picking up his boxers from where he’d dropped them at the end of the bed and wiping off his hands with them before wiping off the drying cum on his stomach. He tossed them on top of the pile of dirty laundry that Kenshi always scolded him about for being on the floor at the end of his bed instead of in a basket or something like a civilized human being, and briefly considered grabbing a new pair, but he was too tired. He flopped back bonelessly on the bed and sighed, still smiling to himself. Then he flipped back on to his stomach and let himself drift off, not pulling up his sheet.
He did always love putting on a show.
***
Johnny was two fingers deep in himself when he heard the door open. He opened his eyes to Kenshi frozen in the doorway, his face bright red.
“Hey, Kenshi,” Johnny greeted amiably with a grin, his breath catching when the tip of his middle finger nudged against his prostate. “Join in or leave but either way, close the door.” He let his eyes close again, pulling his left leg tighter against his chest while his right leg hitched out further, trying to improve the angle.
It had been a week since…whatever had happened between them, and Johnny felt like he was going insane. Kenshi had acted like nothing occurred, bickering with him like always, ignoring his rather heavy handed attempts at flirting, and worst of all, no more late night jerk off sessions. Johnny had barely slept, hoping to catch him doing it again, but Kenshi simply slept through the night and then proceeded to kick Johnny’s very tired ass in sparring the next day.
Meanwhile Johnny couldn’t look at him without seeing his naked body wrapped in moonlight and wonder what that beautiful cock would feel like buried in his ass.
He was desperate. Hence Kenshi walking in on him fucking himself on his own fingers.
There was a long silence, then the soft click of the door closing. Johnny was sure Kenshi had just left until he felt the bed shift and a soft hand on his left ankle. He wasn’t sure whether to grin like the cat who got the canary or sob in relief.
He opened his eyes as he felt Kenshi’s hand move up his leg, down to his chest, up his neck. Kenshi looked into his eyes as he slipped his fingers between Johnny’s lips. Johnny moaned, licking at them eagerly. He glanced down and saw Kenshi already had his pants down to his knees, his free hand stroking his hard cock.
Johnny’s eyes rolled back in his head, his whole body trembling. He jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his waist, thumb rubbing at his skin in comforting circles. When he looked at Kenshi again the other man still held his gaze evenly, a small smile on his lips.
Kenshi pulled his fingers out of Johnny’s mouth slowly, dark eyes flickering down to Johnny’s lips, making the actor lick them automatically.
He felt giddy, almost drunk on the thought of Kenshi kissing him. He wanted him to.
Kenshi touched his bare ankle again, lifting his leg and putting it on his shoulder, eyes never leaving Johnny’s. The hand on his waist dragged down the line of his hip, stopping right beside where Johnny’s aching cock was leaking on to his stomach. Johnny had long since taken his fingers out of himself, gripping the inside of his right thigh, pulling his leg up higher. Kenshi’s hand smoothed over the muscle, pushing it back, and as his little finger brushed Johnny’s thumb the actor couldn’t suppress the little shiver that went up his spine.
When Kenshi finally pushed his fingers against Johnny’s entrance, rubbing over it carefully, Johnny let out a sound like a sob, eyes closing tight, head pressing back into his pillow. He was distantly aware of Kenshi gently shushing him, thumb kneading into the quivering meat of his thigh. When Kenshi pressed in with one finger, Johnny gasped breathlessly, his left hand shooting out to grab Kenshi’s thigh, right beside his hip.
“Easy,” Kenshi whispered, words finally filtering through Johnny’s addled brain. “There you go,”
Kenshi was buried knuckle deep in him and Johnny felt his face heat up in embarrassment at the fact that he was losing it so fast at one finger. He could feel it twisting, stroking his walls, and when it drew back the emptiness was too much. But then there were two sliding in to him, crooking, searching.
He jerked with a choked off moan when Kenshi stroked, hard and deliberate, over his prostate. Kenshi was grinning at him, looking insufferably smug, but then Johnny saw the flush in his cheeks, how heavy lidded his eyes were, the way he was panting, and finally, how the swordsman’s cock was hard and flushed and leaking on to the mattress, and it was a comfort to know that the other man wasn’t nearly as composed as he was trying to appear.
“Kenshi,” Johnny whispered, adjusting his grip on his own thigh so he caught more of the other man’s fingers under his own. Kenshi’s eyes shot up from where he’d been watching his fingers slide into Johnny’s body to the actor’s light brown eyes.
“You’re gorgeous,” Kenshi whispered back, and Johnny felt his face grow redder. He closed his own eyes with a soft gasp, fingers digging in to Kenshi’s leg, overwhelmed.
He wasn’t sure what this was supposed to be, what they were supposed to be to each other, but Kenshi’s words made him feel flayed open and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t expecting.
Johnny felt a third finger pressing at his rim, stroking over it, and had to let go of his own leg to grab his dick hard to fight off the orgasm he felt growing quickly. “Fuck, Kenshi,” He choked out as he felt his body give way, accepting another finger.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Kenshi murmured, letting go of Johnny’s thigh to brace himself over the other man, forcing the leg still pressed against Kenshi’s shoulder into a deeper stretch. Johnny felt Kenshi’s dick moving against his knuckles, where his hand was still wrapped around his own hardness. “Vulnerable. Open,” Kenshi was babbling, unaware of what he was saying. Johnny barely had the presence of mind to uncurl his fingers, wrapping his hand around the girth of both of them. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Kenshi moaned, moving his hips and his hand like his cock was buried in the heat of Johnny’s ass rather than his fingers.
“So do you,” Johnny murmured brokenly, arching beneath him, hand moving from Kenshi’s thigh to his still clothed shoulder, right next to his own ankle. He didn’t even have to move his hand on their cocks, just gave Kenshi something to thrust into while the delicious drag of their flesh pushed him closer to the edge.
“Come on, Johnny,” Kenshi whispered, face bowed so painfully close to his own that Johnny could feel his own hot, gasping breaths against the other man’s cheek. “Come with me,” His fingers thrust in deep, all three dragging mercilessly over the bundle of nerves deep inside the actor, and Johnny obeyed with gasp. Kenshi let out a groan through clenched teeth and thrust hard, grinding his dick against Johnny’s before tumbling over the edge with him.
Johnny could feel himself clamping down around Kenshi’s fingers as he came, the hand he had on Kenshi’s shoulder slipping under the collar of his shirt and scrabbling across the swordsman’s skin while he tried to not shake apart. Kenshi buried his face against the curve of Johnny’s neck, hips twitching as he rode out his high. Johnny’s leg slipped from between them and wrapped around Kenshi’s waist. He clutched Kenshi close, his panting breaths sounding more like sobs as trembled. Kenshi lifted his hand from the mattress, shifting all his weight to his chest pressed against Johnny’s, and cradled the back of the other man’s head, tucking Johnny’s hot face into the bare skin of his throat. Johnny managed to free his hand from between their stomachs and wrapped both arms around the man on top of him, still fighting to catch his breath. He felt Kenshi’s fingers begin to slip out of him and instinctively tried to tighten around them, to keep them inside, but he was too worn out. Kenshi pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw when he felt the muscles of Johnny’s ass quiver around his fingers.
When Kenshi’s hand was free he slid it between Johnny and the mattress, looping his arm around Johnny’s broad shoulders, cradling the actor against his own body like the man was something precious. Johnny shivered again, for a very different reason.
He wasn’t sure how long they remained like that, clinging to each other as their breathing evened out and their trembling ceased, but when Kenshi began to move, to pull away, Johnny had to force himself to let him.
Kenshi paused for a moment, their faces close, eyes locked, and Johnny licked his lips. Kenshi’s eyes flickered down to the movement, and the actor felt his heart pounding. It would take nothing to close that distance, for them to finally kiss.
Johnny silently hoped his quiet desperation didn’t show on his face.
“You look good like this, too,” Kenshi finally said quietly, smiling rather than smirking as he pulled back. Johnny hoped the other man didn’t feel the reluctance in his limbs as he let him go.
“What do I look like?” Johnny asked before he could stop himself.
Kenshi sat back on his heels between Johnny’s thighs, tilting his head, dragging his eyes over Johnny’s naked body. The actor forced himself to remain still, giving Kenshi a smirk, frantically hiding how exposed he felt behind his usual Cage charm.
He’d been naked on set in front of strangers, and on movie screens in front of even more strangers, but only in front of Kenshi did he genuinely feel stripped bare.
“Honest,” Kenshi finally said, nodding a little to himself. Johnny blinked at that, his smile faltering for a second. It was only a second, but he knew Kenshi saw it.
“Not ‘absolutely fucked out’ and ‘devastatingly handsome’?” He said with a wink. Kenshi snorted softly, shaking his head.
“Well, you definitely look ‘fucked out’,” Kenshi amended, pulling off the orange top of his training clothes. Johnny’s breath caught in his throat as Kenshi’s chest was exposed, his intricate tattoos laid bare before the blonde’s eyes. His fingers twitched in an instinctive urge to touch, to map out the ink across Kenshi’s skin.
Kenshi took the top in his hand, already soiled, and wiped at Johnny’s chest and stomach, cleaning away the evidence of their release. Johnny couldn’t help the tiny bit of disappointment he felt, like Kenshi saw what they’d done as a crime that needed to be covered up. He knew that was stupid, of course, Kenshi was just being considerate.
But still.
Kenshi gave him one more smile before standing up from the bed, letting his pants pool around his ankles and stepping out of them. He was delightfully bare for Johnny’s eyes as he moved across their room, dropping his clothes in a basket of his dirty laundry and grabbing fresh ones as he went into their bathroom. He glanced back at Johnny over his shoulder, smirking, then closed the door.
Johnny waited until he heard the shower running, then pulled his pillow out from under his head, buried his face in it, and groaned loudly.
“Fuck.” He said, with feeling.
***
Johnny laid back, loose limbed and smiling to himself, enjoying the buzz of whatever Outworld wine the royals had served at the post tournament dinner. He heard Kenshi huff a small laugh to himself when he came out of their shared bathroom, finding Johnny in the same position he’d dropped in to when then finally got to their room at Wu Shi Academy.
“How much did you have to drink, Cage?”
“Not enough to forget anything, but just enough to make things interesting,” Johnny drawled, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He was aware of Kenshi moving around outside of his field of view, but then again he was always aware of Kenshi.
Johnny rolled his head to the side, watching Kenshi carefully fold his suit jacket and undo the buttons on his wrists. The swordsman sat down on his own bed and began untying his shoes.
Johnny had already kicked off his own shoes, the pair so broken in he no longer had to bother with the laces. He rolled on to his side on his bed, watching Kenshi with interest.
“Something on your mind, Cage?” Kenshi said without looking up, and Johnny could hear the smirk in his voice.
“I want to suck your dick,” Johnny blurted out after licking his lips. He had absolutely not meant to be that brutally honest but, well, too late now.
Kenshi went still, not looking up. “You’re drunk,” He finally said, removing one shoe and moving on to the other.
“I’m not that drunk,” Johnny retorted, pushing himself up to sit on his bed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m just drunk enough to actually tell you what I’ve been thinking about for like two weeks.”
Kenshi finally looked up at him, squinting. “Two weeks?”
Johnny gave him a grin, feeling some of that Cage defense come back. He’d actually been thinking about it longer, but he didn’t need to be that honest. “What can I say?” He said with a shrug and feigned nonchalance. “I like sucking cock. And yours? A work of art, my friend.”
Kenshi took off his shoe and looked at Johnny, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, expression somewhat bewildered.
“Cage-“
“I don’t know when we’ll see each other again,” Johnny said, that wine making his mouth a lot looser than he would have liked. He didn’t like being vulnerable, he didn’t like being this honest. That left you open and exposed. And he’d learned the hard way that everyone would hit your Achilles heel if the price was right.
Kenshi just looked at him with an unreadable expression. Johnny felt himself squirm slightly under the scrutiny.
“Forget it, it was stupid of me to say that-“ Johnny began with a dismissive wave of his hand, looking away, his brain already running through a list of possible places in the academy that he could curl up and sleep his shame away where he wouldn’t be found and questioned.
“Johnny,” That caught the actors attention. He swallowed hard and looked at Kenshi. The other man had laid back on his bed, pants undone, hand wrapped around his already hard cock. “Come here,” His voice was quiet, not a question, but a command. A command Johnny knew he could ignore if he wanted to.
Johnny took a breath, steadying himself, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt, eyes locked on Kenshi’s. The swordsman began to undo his own shirt as well; one handed, which Johnny silently found impressive.
When the last button was undone Johnny stood, letting the fabric slide off his own shoulders and drop to his bed. He also undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops with a soft hiss and dropping it to the side. As he approached Kenshi’s bed, forcing his stride to be confident and even despite his eagerness, the other man sat up, still looking Johnny in the eye as he removed his shirt and tossed it aside.
Johnny swallowed, finally recognizing the move for the show of trust it was. Kenshi hid his tattoos from everyone else, but not him, not in the sanctuary of the room they shared.
Kenshi moved up the bed, propping himself up slightly against his pillows to give Johnny room to move between his legs. The actor finally dropped his gaze, hands hesitantly going to Kenshi’s hips, his fingers curling into the waist of Kenshi’s pants. To his horror he felt his hands tremble, his mind painfully sober, and he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. He was Johnny Cage. He didn’t lose it like this. He was cool and confident and sure and…
He was an absolute emotional wreck. A collection of anxieties and insecurities wrapped up in enough bullshit to just barely keep the wolves at bay.
“Hey,” Kenshi said softly, touching Johnny’s jaw so gently he had to take a breath before he opened his eyes to keep from losing it. “We don’t have to-“
Johnny felt panic well up in his gut. “I want to. I do,” He took another breath, closing his eyes briefly, collecting himself. When he looked up at Kenshi again, he was relieved that he felt more calm. “I want to know what you taste like.” It didn’t come out with his usual bravado, but he was relieved that he didn’t sound unsure anymore. He just sounded…honest.
Kenshi gave him a small smile, gentle and affectionate, the pad of his thumb brushing over Johnny’s lower lip. “I’ve been wondering what you taste like myself,”
Johnny’s lips parted slightly, a soft breath of surprise huffing over Kenshi’s thumb. Kenshi’s smile widened, his thumb moving to the corner of Johnny’s lips with the rest of his fingers molded to the line of the actor’s jaw.
“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Johnny finally said, voice rough and lips twitching up into a smile like Kenshi’s. He hooked his fingers into the waist of Kenshi’s pants and pulled them down, sitting back on his heels to pull them off, dropping them on the floor. Kenshi spread his bare legs, wrapping his hand around his own cock again with a smile. Johnny grinned, feeling more relaxed. “Like I said. A work of art,” He said quietly, brushing Kenshi’s hand away to wrap his own around the other man’s girth, lowering his head to lick a stripe from the base up to the crown.
Above him, Kenshi drew in a soft breath.
Johnny started slow, dragging his tongue over Kenshi’s sensitive flesh in long strokes, occasionally flicking it over the slit, curling the tip against the glans. Kenshi’s breathing was slowly getting heavier, and when Johnny looked up at him through his eyelashes it sent a jolt through his body when he saw Kenshi watching him.
“You’re always so gorgeous,” Kenshi whispered in an awed kind of way, and Johnny had to avert his eyes. It felt like too much. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, dragged his tongue up the length of Kenshi’s cock, then took it in his mouth without warning, his lips kissing his fist where it was wrapped around the base.
Kenshi gasped sharply, hands flying out to grab whatever part of Johnny they could. One hand buried itself in his hair, not pulling, just holding, while the other grabbed Johnny’s forearm where it was pressed over Kenshi’s hip to keep the man’s movement to a minimum. Johnny’s hand had been tucked into a fist on Kenshi’s stomach, his whole body tense against the feeling of vulnerability the swordsman seemed to bring out in him, but Kenshi’s grounding grip made his hand relax against the inked skin before he could stop himself.
Johnny hollowed his cheeks, tongue working endlessly over the dick in his mouth, head bobbing in little motions. Then he dragged his lips up Kenshi’s cock, tracing the vein on the underside, pressing the flat of his tongue over the head and tasting the pre-cum already gathering there before he pulled off to breathe, letting his hand continue to work. He looked up at Kenshi still staring at him, the other man’s pupils blown wide with his face flushed, and he whimpered when he realized how hard he was in the confines of his own pants.
“You’re beautiful,” Kenshi said in that hushed, awed way that made Johnny’s dick twitch. He closed his eyes, needing to look away. “Just look at you.”
Johnny jumped slightly when he felt Kenshi’s hand touch his face, thumb wiping away saliva that had gathered on his lips. Johnny tried to turn his head, to escape from the feeling of Kenshi’s fingers stroking through his hair and against his cheek, but he was held firm.
“You’re so good, Johnny. So sweet.”
Johnny dragged his tongue up Kenshi’s cock again, then swallowed him down, nose pressing into the hair at the base, throat spasming around the sudden intrusion. He heard Kenshi gasp over him, nearly a shout, and the hand in his hair gripped tight while the hand on his cheek moved over the nape of his neck. He could feel Kenshi’s thumb rubbing at his throat and swallowed, making the other man moan.
“Fuck, Johnny, you feel so good,” Kenshi moaned, voice going ragged.
Johnny dragged his mouth up, relieved when the taste of pre-cum flooded over his tongue. Kenshi’s words, and the way he was saying them, were getting to the actor, making his ears heat up and his own cock throb against the bed. He needed-
He needed…
He just needed, the yearning a sharp ache in his chest.
He rolled his tongue against Kenshi’s glans as he reached the head, then began quickly bobbing his head, stroking with his hand what he didn’t dare to take back in his mouth.
“Johnny…Johnny, I-“ Kenshi gasped out, barely there, hips twitching against the weight of Johnny’s forearm.
Johnny just nodded, and kept going.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Kenshi gasped, hands gripping at Johnny’s hair and the back of his neck just this side of painful. Johnny could feel the muscles in his arms quiver against the urge to pull him in, force him down on the cock in his mouth and make him choke on the other man’s release.
The silent consideration warmed Johnny in a way he didn’t want to think about.
He took half of Kenshi’s dick into his mouth, kissing his fist as it twisted around the shaft, and swallowed.
“Johnny-” Kenshi nearly sobbed as he came, hips again twitching in a primal urge to fuck into the warmth of Johnny’s mouth.
Johnny just swallowed, some of Kenshi’s seed spilling from the corners of his lips where they were stretched around the other man’s pulsing cock.
Even before Kenshi had stopped cumming he’d stilled his hips, the hand in Johnny’s hair stroking gently over the sting from where he’d gripped too tight. He brought his hand from the back of the actor’s neck to his face, wiping at the corners of Johnny’s mouth almost tenderly.
Johnny couldn’t help the whimper that came from him.
He dragged his tongue over the softening cock in his mouth once the pulses had stopped, cleaning off what remained of Kenshi’s release before drawing away.
Kenshi let him go, let him sit back on his heels, gasping, eyes still closed as he pressed the heel of his hand against his own hard cock, letting out a small whine.
He heard movement, and suddenly Kenshi’s hands were on him again.
“Come here,” Kenshi whispered softly, pressing Johnny onto his back against the pillow, undoing his pants and pulling his dick free.
Johnny wanted to cry from the relief of it, of having Kenshi wrap his hand around him and kiss the head before taking it in his own mouth. His eyes flew open, focused on the ceiling above him, hands grasping blindly for something, anything, to hold.
Kenshi grabbed his hand, pulling his mouth off Johnny to kiss the inside of the actor’s wrist before their fingers slotted together, holding tight.
“Just let go,” Kenshi murmured, pressing a kiss to his stomach. “It’s okay,”
Then Kenshi’s hot mouth was on him, and Johnny could already feel his climax building.
“K-Kenshi…fuck, Kenshi.” He breathed, free hand grabbing at Kenshi’s wrist as he stroked his cock, not to stop him, but just to hold. “I’m-“ The words caught in his throat, face burning from the humiliation of how quick this was going to end.
“It’s okay,” Kenshi reassured him, flicking his tongue over the head. “I want you to.”
Kenshi’s lips wrapped around him, tongue rolling against the underside of the head, fist giving one more stroke, and Johnny came, arching his back, gripping at Kenshi almost painfully, gasping breathlessly, nearly choking on the lack of air.
He felt Kenshi swallowing around him, no longer holding Johnny’s cock in his fist but instead stroking his palm over the quivering muscles of Johnny’s abdomen, gentling the actor through it. Kenshi’s tongue stroked Johnny, cleaning away his seed, making him shiver.
Kenshi finally released his spent cock, pressing his lips one last time against the head, and Johnny felt the warmth of his body pull away. He let go of Kenshi’s wrist, but when his grip on the hand still intertwined in his loosened, Kenshi squeezed tighter.
Johnny opened his eyes before he could overthink it.
Kenshi was still between his spread thighs, leaning back against the wall, trapping Johnny’s leg. His head was tilted against the wall, looking at Johnny with that same unreadable expression that he wanted to identify as fond, but that couldn’t be right.
Kenshi smiled, giving Johnny’s hand one more squeeze, before letting go.
“Should’ve known a mouth like yours could do more than just run,” Kenshi said, smile growing into a grin.
Johnny huffed out a laugh in spite of himself. “Yeah, you should’ve.”
Kenshi looked at him for a moment longer, then patted his thigh before pushing himself to his feet. His stride wobbled slightly for just a moment, and Johnny couldn’t help beaming with pride.
“I heard that,” Kenshi said with amusement, not turning around as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
Johnny couldn’t help but snicker, his head rolling to the side. His own bed felt so far away, but he pushed himself up with a groan, stumbling over to it. He forced himself to remain on his feet long enough to push down his pants and then his boxer-briefs when he felt the drying pre-cum chafe against his still sensitive dick. He dropped into his own bed on his stomach naked, hugging the pillow under his head, and was asleep in minutes.
***
Johnny stared up at the ceiling, fingers tapping out a rhythm on his bent knees. Something was happening, they didn’t know what, but Liu Kang had asked them to stick around for a mission.
A mission to Outworld.
Johnny was excited for it, feeling keyed up. They’d just been wandering idly around the Academy since the tournament, and he never did well being idle.
“What’s on your mind, Cage?”
Johnny lowered his eyes, looking at Kenshi. The swordsman was sitting on his own bed, mirroring Johnny.
The actor just stared, considering, and Kenshi let him, one eyebrow raised slightly and the corner of his mouth tilted up in an amused smile.
Johnny felt weak against that smile, the way those dark eyes fixed on him.
He could feel that familiar ache in his chest, that yearning that was painful in its intensity.
“You’re not usually this quiet,” Kenshi said, cutting through Johnny’s thoughts like a katana. The dark haired man’s brow creased slightly, looking almost concerned, but Johnny knew that wasn’t right.
“You should fuck me,” Johnny blurted out, like the words had forced themselves from his mouth. Kenshi blinked, looking surprised.
Johnny suddenly had no where to channel the energy in his body so he pushed himself to his feet and crossed their room, straddling Kenshi’s legs and settling in his lap.
“You should fuck me,” Johnny repeated, his voice low and sultry. He smoothed his hands up Kenshi’s chest, cupping his hands around the back of his neck. “I want you inside me.”
Kenshi stared into his eyes, slightly shocked, hands gripping at the blankets under him.
“Cage, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He finally said. Johnny rolled his eyes.
“What? Why not? Dangerous mission tomorrow, hello? This is the best idea,” He groaned.
“I’m not going to fuck you because you think we might die tomorrow,” Kenshi said firmly, looking at Johnny with a familiar expression.
Like he was an absolute idiot.
Johnny went still, sucking in a breath. He was an idiot. Because them rolling around in bed, getting each other off with their hands and mouths was one thing. What he was asking for was something different.
He hadn’t realized he’d opened himself up and asked for something too intimate from someone who had never wanted that in the first place.
“Right,” Johnny said softly, ducking his head and pulling away to stand.
“Cage-“
“No, it’s….I get it. It’s fine,” He turned away, arms crossing over his chest in an instinctive move to protect himself.
“Get what?” Kenshi asked, sounding somewhat exasperated. Johnny couldn’t help the way his back twitched at the sound of it, tensing.
“Nothing,” Johnny murmured, sliding his feet into his shoes and going towards the door.
“Cage, come back-“
“This is what you wanted all along isn’t it? Me gone?” Johnny spun, his face hard despite how much he wanted to cry. He felt cracked apart, gutted, exposed, all those things he’d trained himself to not feel. It wasn’t fair that Kenshi seemed able to just cut him to the quick so easily. “You fucking hate me anyway, right?”
“Cage, I-“ Kenshi was standing in the middle of their room, looking lost.
“I just wanna know, was all this for Sento?” He spat out before he could stop himself. “Were you nice to me, did you touch me like you actually fucking cared, so you could get that damn sword?”
Kenshi’s face went from confused, to hurt, to dark with anger in a quick span. “That’s what you think of me? You really think I would do that?”
Johnny wanted to scream no at the top of his lungs, because he wanted to trust Kenshi, he wanted to believe that everything he felt the other man felt as well.
But.
Well.
Just because you want to believe someone doesn’t make what they’re saying true.
Johnny turned away, hand on the door. “What else am I supposed to think?” He said quietly, then left.
***
Johnny spent the night in the library, tucked in a corner, reading every book they had on Quantum Mechanics. There wasn’t a lot, but he lost himself in the monotony of it, the familiar theories. He dropped off to sleep curled up on the floor.
He woke up to Kung Lao shaking him awake and a blanket draped over him that hadn’t been there before.
***
He clung to his armor of his Cage persona, acting like Kenshi saying he didn’t want him on the mission didn’t hurt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t resist poking at Kenshi, egging him on, pissing him off.
He desperately shoved Kenshi away, so maybe the other man wouldn’t see how broken he was.
***
Kenshi’s blood was hot on his face. All Johnny could hear were his screams.
The blackness that followed the slam of pain in his skull was a mercy.
***
Johnny’s hands shook. He tied the blindfold tight and hoped Kenshi didn’t notice.
It should’ve been him.
***
“Just leave me.”
Johnny’s heart stopped. He would never do that.
***
He set Sento into Kenshi’s hand, and tried not to cry at the sound of the other man’s voice.
Maybe if he dies here, that will make up for the loss of Kenshi’s eyes.
***
He wandered the halls of the Academy, not wanting to go back to their room and see the blame that Kenshi wasn’t pushing on him.
Johnny ended up back in the library, falling asleep propped up in a corner with an open book in his lap.
Liu Kang was sitting in front of him when he opened his eyes, body language relaxed, as if he had been meditating.
“Talk to him,” Liu Kang told him.
Johnny nodded, then took his book to another part of the Academy. He fell asleep in an alcove that opened to the outside, clutching the book to his chest like a teddy bear.
***
Raiden was sitting beside him when he wakes up. He offered Johnny some of his breakfast, then frowned when he saw the actor go a little green.
“Did you catch something?”
Johnny just shook his head, looking down, his hand rubbing restlessly at his face.
“Are you sure?” Raiden asked, hand gentle on Johnny’s wrist, stopping the motion that had already chafed the actor’s cheeks without him realizing.
Johnny went still for a moment, looking down at his hand. He’d expected there to be blood.
“His blood was on my face,” Johnny finally said softly, voice rough from disuse. It felt detached from himself, like he hadn’t actually said those words.
It was ungraceful, the way he threw himself half out the opening above his head to vomit mostly bile onto the grass, but Raiden just rubbed his back and gave him water without comment.
***
Johnny spent a long minute after he opened his eyes trying to decided if Kung Lao looked angry or tired. Maybe it was both.
“I’m worried about you,” Kung Lao said, his voice rough. “We all are.”
“I’m fine,” Johnny said, his voice still detached from himself. He wasn’t even really here. He was nowhere.
He wasn’t even a person.
But Kung Lao looked at him, eyes rimmed red. “Johnny. Please.” He said softly, eyes shining.
Something cracked inside Johnny, his face crumpling, and Kung Lao grabbed him, pulled him up into his arms. He clung to his friend, and Kung Lao just held him tighter as he trembled.
***
Johnny waited outside the door to their room, trying to catch his breath. He’d go in, and everything would be fine, if he could just breathe.
Suddenly the door flew open and there were gentle hands on his face, his shoulders, guiding him inside, sitting him down on his bed, bending him forward, pressing his head down between his knees.
Kenshi spoke to him softly, stroking a hand down the line of his spine, pulling him back to himself. By the time Johnny was finally breathing at an even tempo he was falling asleep where he sat.
Kenshi laid him back on the bed, taking off Johnny’s shoes and brushing the actor’s long hair back from his forehead. The swordsman gave him a soft smile as his eyes closed, and Johnny’s last thought was that Kenshi was still wearing the blindfold from his armor.
***
He woke up in an actual bed this time. When his eyes fluttered open he saw Kenshi sitting up on his own bed across from his, Sento beside him.
“Good morning,” Kenshi said softly.
Johnny felt something shift on his mattress and looked down. Kung Lao had fallen asleep sitting up with his head pillowed on his arms on Johnny’s bed. Raiden was curled up under a blanket on the floor next to him.
“They were worried,” Kenshi explained, voice still soft to let the others sleep. His brow creased slightly. “I was worried,” Johnny opened his mouth and Kenshi sighed, the sound sad. “Please don’t tell me you’re fine.”
Johnny pressed his lips into a line, staring at Kenshi. He could tell from the soft blue glow behind the blindfold that Kenshi was staring right back.
Johnny just turned on to his other side and stared at the wall until he fell asleep.
***
He’s back in that lab, and Mileena drives her blades into Kenshi’s eyes.
He’s back in that lab, and Mileena rips Kenshi’s throat out with her teeth.
He’s back in that lab, and he drives two blades in Kenshi’s eyes.
He’s back in that lab, and Mileena rips his throat out with her teeth.
He’s back in that lab, and Kenshi drives Sento through his heart.
***
“Johnny!”
The actor jolted up out of his endless nightmares, hyperventilating, eyes and hands searching wildly, blindly, for a weapon.
“Johnny! Johnny, breathe, come on, breathe with me, look at me,” Two hands held his face, and it took a moment for him to connect the face close to his own with a name.
“Johnny, just breathe, nice and slow, come on, I know you can do it for me,” Kenshi said, voice unsteady with something Johnny couldn’t read.
Johnny was aware of his body trying automatically to follow Kenshi’s direction, but his brain was detached, unconcerned.
He was nothing.
“Johnny!” Kenshi barked, slapping his hand against Johnny’s cheek. “Johnny? Fuck, Johnny!”
He watched from outside his body as the door to the room opened.
“Kenshi?!” Kung Lao was at his side, eyes wide and terrified as he pressed his fingers against the side of Johnny’s throat.
“Get Liu Kang!” Kenshi demanded, and Raiden nodded before bolting down the hallway.
“His heartbeat is too fast,” Kung Lao said, voice tight with concern.
“Johnny? Johnny, come on, breathe for me,” Kenshi cradled Johnny’s limp body against his chest, the actor’s fast breaths growing fainter. “Johnny!” Kenshi said, voice sharp, jaw clenching against the tears gathering behind his blindfold.
“Fuck,” Kung Lao said, like a sob, grabbing Johnny’s hand in his.
Johnny sank into the waiting silence willingly.
***
When he woke up this time, he was in the infirmary wing. His whole body ached, his head felt fuzzy, but he felt there, at least.
Like a person.
Liu Kang was sitting beside the bed, face unreadable as always. “We had to sedate you,” He explained, eyes fixed on the window. “A panic attack, brought on by trauma, most likely following a period of high anxiety and possible disassociation.”
He looked over at Johnny finally, and his eyes were gentle. “A lot of that, Kenshi told us. Sento has given him the ability to sense thoughts that others project. He said that your mind was like a tornado siren in a small room.”
Johnny just blinked, still trying to piece together what had happened.
Liu Kang reached out and laid his hand on Johnny’s forearm. His palm was comfortingly warm against his skin. “Rest. We will speak more when you are stronger.”
Liu Kang was a god. Who was Johnny to disobey?
***
Raiden gave him a small, unsure smile when he saw Johnny’s eyes open. Johnny stared at him for a moment, eyes slow to focus.
“You’re the strongest out of all of us, you know that?” The actor said, his voice small to his own ears. His eyelids fluttered, sleep pulling at him once again.
He felt Raiden’s hand on his arm, the same place he had last felt Liu Kang’s. Raiden squeezed, and it felt affectionate.
But that couldn’t be right.
“You’re a hero, Johnny Cage. You just don’t know it yet.” Raiden whispered as he sank back down into sleep.
***
“Perhaps he would be more comfortable back at his own home,” Liu Kang said, his patient voice pulling Johnny up out of the silence.
Johnny’s eyes felt too heavy, his brain too slow, so he just listened, waiting for the pull of sleep to overwhelm him again.
“He can’t be alone right now,” Kenshi insisted, his voice strained. “He’s better off here, surrounded by people who care about him.”
The silence between them felt significant.
“Do you feel a need for atonement?” Liu Kang’s words weren’t accusatory.
The pause before Kenshi spoke didn’t feel like a deflection, just a man trying to collect the right words to honestly express himself.
“I just want to protect him.” The swordsman said softly.
Johnny felt a hand, sword roughened and gentle and as familiar as his own, on his arm before he knew no more.
***
Kung Lao’s hand was a comforting weight on his arm. He smiled tiredly at Johnny when the actor opened his eyes.
“You asshole,” The other man said, his voice weirdly affectionate. “You’re really putting us through the wringer, here.”
Johnny just blinked at him, his mind still trying to catch up with what was happening around him.
“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words small and weak compared to the guilt he felt.
“Don’t,” Kung Lao told him, his voice firm now. “Just…you can talk to us. I promise.”
Johnny turned his arm under Kung Lao’s, weakly curling his fingers around his elbow.
“Are you okay?” He dared to ask.
Kung Lao huffed out a laugh, closing his eyes tight as he bowed his head. Johnny just waited patiently.
“I had to watch one friend get his eyes gouged out and the other have an entire breakdown,” The Shaolin said quietly. “So, no. Not really,” He took a breath and looked back up. “But I will be.”
Johnny nodded, eyes getting heavy again.
“And so will you,” Followed him into the void.
***
“Nobody would think any less of you, Johnny.” Liu Kang told him, his voice patient.
“Maybe not, but I would.” Johnny told him, looking away. A big fight was coming up, and he was determined to be a part of it.
He felt the Fire God watch him silently for a moment.
“Very well, then,” Liu Kang finally relented, and it felt like a hollow victory.
***
“Fucking stop it,” Johnny hissed in Kenshi’s face, pinning him to the floor of the sparring ring with an arm across his chest.
“Stop what?” Kenshi asked, bewildered and slightly out of breath.
“You’re holding back. Stop acting like I’m gonna break and fucking hit me.” Johnny realized with a jolt he was shaking, and Kenshi could feel it, too.
“You think that’s what you deserve?” Kenshi’s voice was too gentle, and Johnny sucked in a breath.
He shoved himself to his feet and fled, ignoring the calls of his name behind him.
***
“I don’t blame you for what happened at the lab. You know that, right?”
Johnny tensed where he lay on his bed, staring at the wall with his back to Kenshi. The swordsman’s voice in their dark room was, again, too gentle. Too kind.
Too forgiving.
“Maybe you should,” He replied, his throat feeling too small.
“Johnny-“
He flinched, and heard the other man sigh softly.
“Good night.” Kenshi whispered after a moment, and Johnny finally fell asleep listening to him breathe.
***
“I wanted to, you know,”
Johnny paused in pulling on his armor, not daring to look at Kenshi on the other side of their room.
“The night before we went to Outworld. Before…when you-“ Kenshi cut himself off and Johnny snuck a glance at him. The other man was sitting on his bed, armor already on and head bowed with Sento held in his hands. “I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you.”
Johnny was frozen in place, staring down at his own hands. Sometimes he still expected to see Kenshi’s blood on them.
“But at that time…it scared me because it felt like you were trying to say goodbye,” He could hear the other man swallow, and felt the intensity of Kenshi’s gaze on him. “And I wasn’t going to come back from Outworld without you.”
He felt like he couldn’t move with the weight of the confession, and heard Kenshi stand up from his bed. “I don’t regret what I did with Mileena, Johnny. Even if I knew it would cost me my sight I would do it again, I would do it a hundred times, I would die if it meant you were safe.”
Kenshi was right in front of him, Johnny’s eyes on his boots, and the hand that tilted his face up was gentle on his jaw. The actor forced his eyes to the other man’s face. Kenshi’s smile was soft and a little sad. His thumb brushed lightly over Johnny’s lower lip.
”I’m fucking broken, Kenshi,” Johnny whispered, his voice shaking. “You’re the only one who looks at me like you actually see me, even now, even with Sento and I don’t get why you won’t admit that I was never worth it.” His whole body was shaking now, and he knew Kenshi could feel it.
The swordsman sank to his knees at Johnny’s feet, setting Sento on the bed to take Johnny’s face in both hands. “I always see you, Johnny,” He said empathically. “And you are always worth it.”
Then Kenshi’s lips were on his, tender and sweet and that yearning was back in Johnny’s chest, so powerful he nearly sobbed from the pain of it. He cupped his hand on the nape of Kenshi’s neck, finally feeling steady, like he could move, like he could breathe.
When their lips parted they didn’t move far, just pressed their foreheads together and breathed.
***
The tips of Mileena’s sais glinted inches from Johnny’s eyes, and he had to remind himself that this wasn’t a dream, and this wasn’t his timeline’s Mileena. The Mileena who apologized profusely to Kenshi and even to Kung Lao and Johnny himself for what she had done at Shang Tsung’s lab was elsewhere on the battlefield, and this was a horrible copy who would have gladly driven her blades into Kenshi’s eyes then licked the blood off later.
Still, when Johnny wrenched the blades around and drove them into her eyes with a vicious cry, it felt a little like justice.
***
His legs burned as he climbed the temple, his whole body ached from the endless combat, but he finally reached the top as Liu Kang traded blows with Titan Shang Tsung. Johnny went to help, but Quan Chi jumped in his way. He held his own against the sorcerer until Quan Chi tossed him aside like he was nothing with his magic.
Johnny hit the stone hard, dazed and trying to find his way back to his feet.
He saw Liu Kang strike Quan Chi down, but before he could warn the Fire God a large serpent made of magic wrapped around him, trapping him. Johnny finally managed to get his legs under him and stumbled gracelessly to his feet. Shang Tsung watched this with a smug smile that the actor wanted to wipe from every timeline with his bare fists.
“What makes you think you can succeed where Liu Kang did not?” The Titan sneered. Johnny grit his teeth, lips pulling back in a snarl, lifted his fists, and proceeded to wipe that smug grin off the man’s face.
As he stood over Shang Tsung’s prone body, gasping to catch his breath, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe Raiden had been right.
Maybe he was a hero.
‘I’m so proud of you, my friend,’ He heard Liu Kang in his head as the battlefield vanished, replaced with the courtyard of Wu Shi Academy.
“Johnny!” Kenshi was suddenly in front of him, hands on his face, his shoulders, his arms, checking for injuries.
“I’m okay,” Johnny managed to say, and gave a breathless little laugh when he realized how true that was.
He caught Kenshi’s hands in his own, and looked at his face. “I’m okay,” He repeated gently, smiling.
Then Kenshi’s arms were firm around him, one hand threaded through his hair to cradle the back of his head, and Johnny pressed his face into the curve of his neck as he held on tightly.
“Johnny! Kenshi!”
Suddenly Kung Lao and Raiden where there, nearly knocking them both over as the two Shaolin embraced the duo, and all four started laughing in relief.
When the group finally drew apart enough to start talking about the experience, Raiden caught Johnny’s eye.
“I told you,” He said, the words smug and his voice proud. Johnny just huffed out a laugh and nodded.
***
They undid each other’s armor slowly in their shared bedroom, brushing fingers and lips over cuts and bruises as they were exposed. Neither Johnny nor Kenshi spoke, conversing instead with smiles and touches, but silent was too harsh a word for what was happening.
The last thing removed was Kenshi’s blindfold, but whereas the rest of their armor had been allowed to fall to the floor, that was reverently folded and laid on top of Sento.
Kenshi’s eyes had been replaced with glass orbs that glowed a soft blue with Sento’s power. Johnny touched his face, his thumb brushing the corner of the swordsman’s eye, making his eyelashes flutter.
They were both smiling as their lips met, soft at first, then growing hungrier. Kenshi began to move towards his bed, and Johnny willingly followed, letting the other man lay him down with a hand cradling his head.
The actor spread his legs, and Kenshi slotted into the space between his hips like he was born to be there.
“Hang on,” Johnny whispered against his lips. “In my bag-“
Kenshi chuckled, and the bottle of lube was in his hand. Johnny couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“You used your telekinesis for that?”
“I’m not leaving this bed until I’ve been inside you,” Kenshi whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple. Johnny’s breath caught in his throat as he shivered.
The fingers Kenshi stroked over his entrance were warm and gentle, pressing inwards like they were asking permission rather than demanding. Johnny sighed as one breeched him, sinking in slowly.
Kenshi had propped himself up on his elbow and watched Johnny’s face as he turned one finger to two, and then three. Johnny stared into his eyes, unable to look away as he gasped.
When Kenshi’s fingers nudged against Johnny’s prostate, the actor’s eyelashes fluttered as he moaned softly.
“Please, Kenshi. I’m ready,” Johnny whispered, his voice a wreck. He felt Kenshi’s cock where it was hard and leaking against the inside of his thigh, and felt a small thrill knowing how turned on the other man was.
Kenshi kissed him before he drew back, finding the lube amongst the sheets. Johnny bent his knees, pulling them up towards his chest, not looking away from where Kenshi was slicking up his cock until the other man moved close again.
Kenshi held himself in one hand while the other went to the back of Johnny’s thigh, covering the actor’s fingers with his own. He guided himself into place, then looked into Johnny’s eyes as he pressed in.
Johnny gave a little gasp as the head of Kenshi’s cock sunk in, and he heard the other man’s breath catch. Kenshi released himself and covered Johnny’s fingers on his other leg, continuing to sink in.
By the time Kenshi was fully buried they were both gasping. The swordsman bowed his head for a moment, collecting himself, and Johnny could feel him shiver.
“Fuck, Johnny,” He finally said, his voice hushed and awed.
“C’mere,” The actor slurred, releasing his own leg to reach out. Kenshi quickly accepted the invitation, covering the body beneath his own, claiming Johnny’s lips in a kiss. Johnny wrapped his arms and legs around him, clinging to him.
“Please move, please,” Johnny begged, his cock throbbing and weeping between their bodies. Kenshi rolled his hips, not thrusting just shifting inside Johnny’s body, and the actor wanted to cry for how good it felt.
Kenshi pushed himself to his hands with some difficulty, looking down at Johnny’s face. “You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” He whispered, beginning to actually thrust. Johnny could only grasp at the other man’s forearms, braced on either side of his shoulders, and roll his hips to meet his thrusts.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, and you’re mine,” He still sounded awestruck. “You’re all mine,”
“I’m yours Kenshi,” Johnny whispered back. “Heart and soul I’m yours, I’m only yours.”
Kenshi managed to lift a hand, his thumb tracing Johnny’s lips. “I’m yours.” He said after a moment, and Johnny felt a jolt like lightning under his skin. “In this timeline, in any timeline, I will find you, and I will love you just like I do now.”
Johnny cried out, his climax fast approaching, and from how short and quick Kenshi’s thrusts had become he could tell the other wasn’t far behind.
“I love you. I love you, Johnny Cage.” Kenshi looked directly into his eyes as he said it. Johnny reached out for him again, hands scrabbling across bare skin as he desperately pulled Kenshi close.
“I love you,” He sobbed as he came across his own stomach, pressing his face into Kenshi’s hair, feeling the other man gather his trembling body into his arms.
The tight, hot clutch of his body pulled Kenshi over with him. The swordsman moaned as he shook apart, buried to the hilt and filling Johnny with his release. One hand cradled the back of Johnny’s head while the other was wrapped around his shoulders, and the weight of the brunette’s body was soothing against Johnny’s chest.
They stayed like that long after their mutual shaking subsided and breaths evened out. When they finally began to move they each pressed kisses to any skin they could reach until they found each other’s lips. They kissed slow, soft.
“I love you,” Kenshi said when they drew apart only far enough to look each other in the eye.
“I love you, too.” Johnny echoed softly, his smile somewhat shy.
Kenshi just smiled, and kissed him again.