[identity profile] kryss-delrhei.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] delrhei_writing
Title: Craving
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kryss_delrhei
Fandom: DRAMAtical Murder
Type: Video Game / Visual Novel
Characters/Pairing: Mizuki/Aoba
Word Count: 5,845
Genre: Romance
Rating: R
Warning: public blowjob, excessive drinking
Summary: Mizuki spends the whole night drinking copious amounts of alcohol to try and cheer Aoba up after a rough day. He never though he'd be confessing the way he did, but it couldn't be helped.
Disclaimer: I do not own DRAMAtical Murder nor the characters, just borrowing them from Nitro+CHiRAL for a little while.
Author's Notes: I finally de-anoned this on AO3 the other day. So, I'm just following up and adding it here. :)
Prompt: [livejournal.com profile] dmmd_kink_meme : Mizuki/Aoba - Feelings

--

“Aoba!”

“Yo,” he responded to the greeting by lifting his chin slightly and gave a partial wave as he came around the corner. The alleyway opened up, many of the Dry Juice members were hanging around and waved when they caught sight of him. It wasn’t like he was a threat to their territory, nor were any of them fusing because he was at their HQ unannounced. He had known most of the guys on the team for years, something Aoba figured was a good thing at least in this day and age.

“You looking for Mizuki?” one called out from the stairs, where the aforementioned brunette usually stood as lookout.

Aoba shoved his hand back into his jacket pocket and chuckled, walking up to the member, “Yeah, kinda.” He paused, when the Dry Juice member clapped him on the back, trying to loom over him, yet doing a horrible job, especially with the lopsided grin spreading across his face.

“So when you going to finally join Dry Juice?” the team mate asked, jokingly. Aoba glanced at the tattoos that marked him as a Dry Juice member, knowing full and well he didn’t want to ever have a tattoo marking his body.

Aoba disguised his annoyance that had continued building by wrinkling his nose and giving a effortless shrug, his smile strained, “Ahhh, I don’t know. I’m not really one that wants to get caught up in all the Rib business. Ya’ll know that.” He had a hard time remembering the member’s name, but that was not what he was here for, “Anyway, where is Mizuki?”

The Dry Juice member patted him on the back again before stepping back, “He’s up in the bar. He had a couple of new recruits that needed their tattoos.”

Nodding, Aoba shifted the bag on his shoulder and started to head up the stairs, “Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he gave a wave, turning around to keep up a strict guard of the alleyway. Aoba gave a roll of his eyes and shook his head as he opened up the door to the bar. He stepped past the waiting area for the tattoo parlor he knew was in the back, and headed to the long counter, where several patrons were conversing near.

He spotted Mizuki behind the bar, mixing a drink, and sliding it across to the customer. Aoba set his bag aside that held Ren inside, currently on sleep mode, as he stepped up and sat himself on the barstool. He kept quiet, letting Mizuki take his tips before he turned to serve him, stopping short, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Oi, it’s rare you come in,” Mizuki chuckled, leaning on the bar in front of Aoba, setting his chin in the palm of his propped up hand.

As usual, Mizuki was wearing a black muscle shirt, yet he had forgone his favorite studded jacket as well as his gloves, leaving his hands bare and his slightly toned muscles visible. Mizuki always seemed to dress down when he worked in the bar, leaving his tough look for the streets when he played Rib, and it was this side of him that made Aoba enjoy his company even more. Not that Mizuki wasn’t good company when his mind was completely focused on Rib, just that games wasn’t something that was what was bothering him today.

He eyed Aoba with those sharp green eyes of his, making Aoba give a nonchalant shrug, “Didn’t wanna go home,” he said easily, as if the topic was boring and unimportant.

Mizuki raised a brow, dropping his hand to rest on the countertop, “Eh? You okay?”

“Just had a bad day, you know?” Aoba gave another loose shrug as he stared back at him, pale eyes meeting vibrant green. The brunette gave a nod and glanced around the small lounge, music pulsing, but not to loud for them not to hold a decent conversation. It was a good night for business and there were many patrons mingling about, the faint sounds of a tattoo needle at work drifting from the back parlor.

“Anything I can do?” Mizuki leaned forward, eyeing Aoba with a more concerned look this time, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Aoba released a sigh, and tapped the countertop with a finger, “Pour me something.”

With a laugh, Mizuki nodded, “Alright, your usual coming right up,” he said turning to go grab what he needed.

“No,” Aoba stopped him, a hand gripping Mizuki’s bare arm. The rib leader glanced at him with a questioning look, trying to figure out what exactly had Aoba acting unlike himself.

“You want a drink… or not?” Mizuki said, the brief pause broken as Aoba let go of Mizuki’s arm.

He gave another strange shrug, before one of his deviously attractive grins bloomed across his face, “I want something with more of a bite to it. Something the usual doesn’t have.”

All Mizuki could do was return the grin with one of his own, glancing to look over his alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, “Ah… this calls for a Mizuki special then.”

“Is it strong?” Aoba asked, leaning onto the counter.

He received a laugh, “You bet it is!” Mizuki pulled a couple bottles down, making Aoba nod as he leaned back and crossed his arms, eyeing the brunette patiently as he worked behind the bar.

---

Mizuki shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he sipped from his glass, “I think you are a little drunk, Aoba.”

“I’m not drunk!” The blue haired male slurred, trying to stand, his glass of alcohol clutched in one hand, the amber liquid swishing close to pouring out with Aoba’s staggering moves.

“Aoba!”

Quickly, he sat his glass on the coffee table in front of them, his other hand grabbing Aoba’s belt and tugging him a little to gain his attention. “Sit back down!” he grumbled, his own voice a little raspy from the straight whiskey he’d been drinking alongside Aoba.

The boy begrudgingly found his seat on the sofa, his knee bumping into the side of the table as he did so. Hissing in pain, Aoba grumbled and massaged at the tender spot, his glass of alcohol still clutched in one hand. Mizuki watched him with a close eye, his hand gently tugging on his gauges in his left ear to keep his attention focused through the hazy feeling that was brought on by the copious amount of liquor they had both ingested.

“Oi, Mizuki…” Aoba slurred, his shoulders slumped as he leaned forward heavily on his thighs. The brunette glanced at him, following the line of his back through the black long sleeve shirt that was made to fit him like a glove. Aoba had long since tossed his jacket over the back of the lounge, soon after they had entered one of side rooms that the bar had specially for groups and parties.

“Yeah?” Mizuki mumbled, watching closely at the way Aoba’s shoulders rose with each breath he took. He could feel the heat of the alcohol that was in his system, warming his body even against the cold air that filtered in through the vents above. Aoba didn’t say anything in response and it took Mizuki a bit til he tore his attention away from where it had finally landed, along the column of Aoba’s throat.

Clearing his throat, he reached for his glass off the coffee table and crossed his legs, his other hand dropped to were his ankle rested on his thigh. “So what made you have a bad day?” He asked, effectively pulling Aoba from his thoughts as he took a swig of the smooth whiskey in his glass.

Aoba snorted and leaned back, resting his head on the sofa as he slumped down, his legs spreading to accommodated his position, “These stupid kids keep coming in the shop and tearing apart the store,” he grumbled, his voice slurred from the heavy amount of alcohol in his system. The blue haired male took a large swallow from his glass, Mizuki watching with a close eye at the adam’s apple that bobbed just under the skin as Aoba drank.

Mizuki rolled his eyes and let out a gruff laugh, “So you’re drinking because of some adolescents? Oh, that’s rich!”

Aoba elbowed Mizuki in the ribs. “That’s not it at all! Hey! Stop laughing!” He sneered, his upper body shifting as he tried to hold his balance in the upright position. The face Aoba made only caused Mizuki to chuckle even more, earning him a few more well placed thumps from his comrade, though he was still unsure of how Aoba managed to maneuver with how much alcohol he had consumed between the both of them.

He calmed, downing the last of amber liquid that had been in his glass. Aoba followed suit and offered the empty glass to him, in a silent askance for a refill, which the brunette indulged him with a generous amount. “Alright, alright,” he set the bottle aside and clinked their glasses together, “What else?”

“I’m getting more propositions,” Aoba mouthed, after a considerable pause, slightly swishing his alcohol in his glass, staring down at it as it swirled.

I wouldn’t doubt it. Mizuki gave a light hum, and cleared his throat from the burning the alcohol left in its wake, “Ahhhh…” He tossed a sideward glance, watching as blue tendrils of hair slipped from behind his ear, framing his face. The far away look in Aoba’s eyes drug him out of his musing, enough for him to give a better response, “Koujaku know?”

“Nah… he’ll just get angry with me,” Aoba slurred, taking a bigger swallow than his mouth could handle, a trail of whiskey dripping down the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

Mizuki’s heart skipped a beat, watching the wet line that traveled down Aoba’s chin. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, listening to the blue haired male curse, using the material of around the neckline of his black shirt to wipe away the excess whiskey. Watching as Aoba grumbled, slurring his string of words, Mizuki swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. Aoba shot him a even stare, causing Mizuki to release a forced chuckle as he distracted himself with taking a deep swig of liquor.

When Aoba had settled down, leaning back against the worn cushion of the lounge sofa, taking another swig of his whiskey, yet being a bit more cautious, he continued his train of thought, more solemn now, “It’s just happening more lately. And it’s been awhile since one of them came into the store.”

“Ah, that’s what this is,” Mizuki said.

He received a pinch to his bare forearm, Aoba grumbling childishly at him in his slightly intoxicated state, “Oi! Let me finish!”

“Sorry. Continue,” he said, motioning with his hand towards Aoba’s glass, who declined as he poured more liquor for himself. He sat back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, avoiding the myriad of discarded or empty liquor bottles that littered the surface from the hours leading to the current moment. Mizuki shoved his thumb past the top of his faded jeans and relaxed comfortable as Aoba sat next to him, nursing his glass.

Again, it took the blue haired male to work his words out of his mouth. Mizuki suspected the alcohol was starting to take a toll. He, himself, could feel the fuzzy tingling tugging at his nerves, the heat pooling in his body, relaxing and yet his mind was dizzy and heavy. He licked his lips, watching Aoba run his palm along his knee, most likely gathering his thoughts through the muddled brain functions.

“I can’t talk to Koujaku about it,” Aoba started, releasing a sigh as he leaned his head back, staring up at the black ceiling, the lights dim as per the purpose of it being a private seating area. The music was still pounding in the background, but he knew the bar would be doing a last call soon. “He’ll just get so angry that he won’t see straight. And I don’t need that. It’s like some times… I feel like I can only talk to you about it.”

The blue haired male snorted, rolling his eyes to himself. Mizuki gazed at him, getting lost in the motions of his movements. Aoba brushed his long hair out of his face, barely flinching as pain tugged at his nerves that shot the sharp pain through him.

“You’re so sensible and all. And you don’t really judge. I mean… I don’t know what I’d do if… these people… they just… won’t leave me alone. And today…”

Aoba’s voice drifted off, Mizuki loosing focus on what he was saying, his eyes concentrated on the fullness of his friend’s mouth as it contoured to form slurred words that he didn’t even care to comprehend. A spark of desire rolled through his system, firing his nerves into all alert, settling in his lower abdomen. He ran his tug along the line of his teeth as he parted his lips, feeling the heat rise, his thumb brushing back and forth along his own skin, near his navel.

He dropped his feet to the floor and gripped the bottle of whiskey, and poured himself more in his glass as well as Aoba’s, who didn’t protest the refill this time. Mizuki downed the burning amber liquid, wiping the back of his hand across him mouth. He leaned back on the sofa, green eyes wandering back to Aoba, who was still talking, but he couldn’t make out the words that was forming from Aoba’s mouth.

He was lost in watching him, the way the blue haired male leaned forward, seeing the lean muscle shift underneath the long sleeved material of his shirt. Aoba fanned himself, with his hand, his face flushed from the heat his body was retaining due to the copious amount of alcohol he had ingested. Mizuki drug his bottom lip through his teeth, slowly licking on the tender spot afterward.

“You even listening to me?” Aoba grumbled, slapping at Mizuki’s chest, regrettably dragging him from his stupor.

With a roll of his eyes he leaned forward, slamming his empty glass on the coffee table, “Aoba…” he stressed his name, causing Aoba to raise a questioning brow.

“What?” he snapped in response.

Mizuki leaned on his elbows, braced on his thighs. With a deep inhaled breath, he paused, raking a hand through his hair before, “I love you,” was said on exhale.

His response was a narrowed look as Aoba tossed him a sneer, “Not you too!” Aoba punched his arm, not with his usual force of power behind him, but still enough to cause a pain to spring up.

“Hey! That hurts,” Mizuki growled.

Aoba set his glass on the coffee table, grumbling underneath his breath, his stance wobbly as he stood, “I’m going to head home.”

Seeing his chances slipping away, Mizuki grabbed his belt again, pulling him back to the sofa, “You’re drunk, sit down!” he grumbled, yanking, but Aoba stood fast, stumbling, “See you can hardly stand! Sit down!”

In the end, Aoba flopped back onto the sofa, huffing, as he slurred out a few choice curses at being hindered, “Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, as he tossed a drunken snarl at Mizuki, “And I’m only drunk, because you made me!”

Laughing, despite his anger, Mizuki shook his head, pointing at the coffee table to the scattered liquor bottles, “Did I force you to drink? You came here, remember.” He narrowed his eyes and heaved a sigh, raking his hand through his brunette hair again to distract himself from the thoughts that were racing through his mind.

“I know, I know,” Aoba pouted, his face flushed from his anger and probably the alcohol. Mizuki didn’t care which as long as Aoba’s face stayed that embarrassingly shade of red that made heat shoot through his body, his lower abdomen churning with the force of his lust.

They stayed like that, quiet, brooding, not saying anything to each other. What broke the silence was when one of the Dry Juice members that had taken over the bar for Mizuki, stuck his head into the room. “Hey, boss, we’re closing on schedule. You need any of us to stay for a bit or can you handle it?”

Mizuki waved his hand, “I can do it. Thanks again and make sure to split the tips with the other guys that were working.”

The Dry Juice member nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he gave a return wave, slipping out of the room just as quietly as he had entered. The two of them were alone again, the silence of the room filling with tension, even worse when the thumping music from the bar silenced. Mizuki released another sigh and chewed on the inside of his cheek before tossing a sidelong glance at Aoba, who had stopped pouting, somewhat.

“I mean it,” Mizuki said, his voice low, too afraid that he might anger the blue haired male again.

Aoba turned to look at him, his earlier annoyance fled as he gave him an honest stare, one Mizuki could have swore was full of fear, “What?”

“That I love you.”

It was simple.

It was honest.

Mizuki pressed his palm to his face, hiding his expression as he looked down, his other hand mindless messing with the earrings dangling from his lower lobe. He was unsure of where to go from here, and for once… he was completely at a loss.

“Mizuki,” Aoba whispered, his brows furrowing when he spoke. His voice was calm, hardly a slur to his tone, betraying the fact that he’d consumed a copious amount of alcohol in the last three hours he’d been here at the bar.

Mizuki shrugged and reached for the liquor bottle, pouring whiskey in his glass he had set aside earlier. The last of the amber colored liquid filled the cup, while he tossed the empty bottle to the floor. “Hear me out, Aoba…” he mumbled, taking a quick swig of whiskey to give him some semblance of courage to continue what he’d started.

Aoba stared at him patiently.

Mizuki inhaled, took another large swig, coughed when the whiskey burned down his throat, filling his abdomen with warmth. When he spoke, he felt like he was preparing for battle, “This isn’t recent, not like all these prospectors calling Heibon for you.” Mizuki swirled the liquid in his cup, staring into it, trying to find a way to continue, “This has been going on for a while. I wanted you to join Dry Juice… so I could more easily protect you, keep you safe like the rest of the guys, like a family would.”

He laughed, though it wasn’t happy, “Somehow, it got mixed up in these feelings. I want you to join now, still… but so you’ll be by my side.”


Aoba tried to speak, but he was cut off by Mizuki holding up a hand to keep him quiet. He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass and slammed it to the coffee table, “Now… I can hardly get you off my mind. Your face is there, staring back at me when I close my eyes. I don’t even know when I started feeling like this.”

Mizuki gave a sarcastic snort, pushing his tongue against his teeth in annoyance at himself for letting things get that bad. Aoba stood, his balance still off from the intoxication, yet he stood, tugging on the hem of his shirt, unbeknownst to Mizuki, who didn’t notice the movements in his peripheral.

He gave a short bitter laugh, “I just know this is what I feel—”

Soft lips caught his broken words.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was all that was needed.

Aoba had the right intentions and yet he was off a little bit, which he corrected the second time he leaned in, his thumb guiding him to the corner of Mizuki’s lips. It was awkward at first, yet Mizuki was too stunned to do much of anything.

Sloppy, and yet it had shut him up.

Their mouths brushed together, gentle pressure, dampness, saliva…

All Mizuki could place in his muddled brain was that Aoba tasted of honey…

Sweet honey, that was so very very tempting…

His heart pounded in his chest as Aoba pulled back, a thin line of saliva joining their lips. Mizuki followed the line upward as Aoba licked his lips, breaking the fragile bond of the wetness, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey.

The blue haired male straightened his back. He shifted his footing, only to have his shoe catch the shoulder strap of his bag that had been pushed underneath the table. In an instant, Mizuki’s arms caught Aoba as he fell forward against his chest, the coffee table getting jostled in the movement, knocking the bottles off, left over liquor spilling off the sides and pooling on the floor.

His arms were around him now, cradling him against this chest. It is then that he feels the alcohol dulling his inhibitions. He was breathing heavily, eyes staring into Aoba’s luminescent pale irises. All Mizuki could do was act on every whim and fiber of his being telling him to kiss him. In a flurry of movement, Mizuki tightened his hold, pulling Aoba awkwardly into his lap as he crushed their mouths together.

To his relief, Aoba responded in kind.

Hands tangled in hair, mouths mingled, tongues met.

It was so overwhelming, Mizuki didn’t know exactly where whose breath was who as their pants blended, their cheeks pressed against each others. He couldn’t find the words, and yet he knew he didn’t need to… not at that moment, anyway.

Aoba shifted awkwardly, pulling back. At first Mizuki thought he was going to stand, instead he was proven wrong when Aoba shifted, slipping more easily onto his lap to straddle him in this new position. Mizuki held his breath, hands sliding down to rest on Aoba’s slender hips. He glanced upward, their gazes heated and full of so much that neither was willing to say. His breathing labored, Aoba caressed Mizuki’s cheeks, before holding him still as he crushed their mouths together.

It turned into a battle, Mizuki gripping hair, Aoba panting out as the feelings shot through him turned from pain to pleasure. Their mouths crashed, tongues danced, teeth scrapped. He delved his fingers into the blue tendrils of hair and held Aoba’s head at the perfect angle as their tongues glided along each others, saliva trailing down the corner of his lips.

He felt he might have died, Aoba’s mewls drifting through their kiss, his free hand fisting the material of Aoba’s shirt in his grip. It was when Aoba started rocking his hips in time with the movements of his tongue that tossed Mizuki over the edge.

Quickly he broke the contact, panting for air, his hands gripping Aoba’s hips to stop them. It was then he realized, that they possibly were about to hit the danger zone, a thick warmth circled in his abdomen, stirring his body to physical reaction. “Aoba! Stop, you’re drunk! I don’t can’t do this… if you’re drunk.”

The was a pause and all Aoba could do was pull back and give a light chuckle, “Mizuki… I’m not that drunk.”

“I still can’t do this,” he whimpered, feeling his jeans becoming tight with his arousal at how much his body was trying to show Aoba that… yes indeed he could do it.

“I’m fine,” Aoba laughed again, rocking his hips, applying pressure to where he knew Mizuki would need it most, as he felt his arousal straining against the material of his jeans. They were panting now, their breathing mingling again, and it was so hard for him to distinguish where one stopped and the other ended.

Aoba dipped his head down, hands running along his shoulders, caressing his bare biceps as he nudged his lips along his cheek. Mizuki swallowed back the emotions as he allowed Aoba to kiss a trail down his throat, only causing his erection to strain further, painfully twitching against the weight of Aoba’s heat above him, straddling his hips like it was nothing.

“Your face is so red,” he panted, lifting a hand to caress Aoba’s cheek.

“Shuddaup!” Aoba panted back, attacking his mouth with another forceful kiss that stretched on for minutes. Mizuki bucked his hips. Aoba gripped his shoulders and ground down with intensity, shoving his tongue past Mizuki’s teeth and tangling, dominating, infuriating him…

“Aoba,” Mizuki groaned, head leaning back.

The blue haired male made eye contact, and pressed their chest close and kissed him more, mumbling out, “Mizuki.”

They continued to battle tongues, before Aoba ground his hips against him, causing his erection to throb with the need for release, making Mizuki yank back with a deep guttural groan, “You really do enjoy torturing me.”

He didn’t grace him with an answer other than to switch his attack to the column of his throat, the scent of whiskey trailing along with their exchanged breaths. Aoba nibbled his lower lobe, licking at the gauges that decorated his ear, teething the sensitive part of his upper cartilage. He was lost again, in the sensations… the feelings…

It took him a lot longer that he realized to figure out that past Aoba grinding and rolling his hips, he was undoing his belt. It took another few seconds for him to register that it might possibly lead to something that his best friend was probably not ready for, even if he was under the influence.

Mizuki gripped his wrist, stopping his motions, “Aoba?”

“Just shut up,” Aoba said, shaking his head with a laugh. He kissed him again, softer this time, letting Mizuki taste honey as their tongues touched, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body.

“I… love you…” He said in between kissed, panting softly, “I wouldn’t feel right continuing…” Aoba growled and pulled Mizuki’s hair and deepened the kiss. They broke contact after several minutes, Mizuki still able to focus, “Aoba! Stop pushing me to my limits!”

“You are so loud,” he said, eyeing him with a heavy lidded gaze, his light colored eyes staring at him with a fire. Mizuki’s breath caught in his throat, his arousal swimming up and swallowing him whole. He didn’t even stop Aoba as the blue haired male finally unhooked his belt and undid his pants, lowering the zipper. All he could do was watch as his erection strained against the fabric of his jeans.

“You love me?” Aoba whispered, lips finding the hollow of his throat as he gripped those slender hips, “Say it again.”

The breathless order all but made Mizuki suck in a sharp breath, Aoba’s skilled fingers delving into the opening of his pants, and gently pulled his erection free.

“Touch me.”

Mizuki was lost on a flow of feelings, his head tilted back as Aoba sucked on his collar, nosing his way up to the column of his throat, where his pulse quickened at the contact.

“Mizuki.”

He released a breathless moan. Aoba starting to gently stroke him, causing his hips to rise to meet the friction that was so dangerously good and so tempting to take over and go at it his way. But he refrained, letting Aoba lead him the way he wanted to. “If you keep up… my resolve will break…”

“I think it already has…” the words were light, whispered along his fevered skinned.

He closed his eyes, letting the swell of arousal and the scent of whiskey and Aoba take him to nirvana, “I love you… Aoba…” He could feel the smile against his neck, Aoba teasing his ear with his tongue. He moaned lightly, arching into the hand that gripped him intimately and so proactively aware of it all, that his nerves were sparking and … alive…

Mizuki felt all hope drift from him, his breath catching in his throat, “I love you.”

Aoba nuzzled his throat and lead a trail of open mouthed kisses up his neck and to his chin where he nipped his jaw line. Mizuki cracked his eyes, meeting Aoba’s pale gaze.

They didn’t say anything.

They just acted…

With their breaths mingling, Aoba shifted back, allowing himself a better ability to grip at Mizuki’s cock, jerking it with a semi-tight grip. It was glorious and frightening all at the same time. And he knew when it was all over their friendship would somehow be altered and in the same heartbeat, as Aoba paused to spit into his palm, returning to stroking him with the passable lubricant… Mizuki didn’t care if Aoba acknowledged his feelings.

All that mattered was the here and now.

Mizuki gripped Aoba’s hips, bucking into his hand. Aoba seemed to find delight in the reactions he was producing and Mizuki was a willing giver.

“Ao--ba…” Mizuki grunted, feeling the churning and tugging on this lower abdomen, “close…”

“Let it happen,” Aoba whispered, drawing him into another deep searing kiss that he could almost say he curled his toes in his boots.

And with their tongues stroking each other and the hand on his cock, applying ample friction, he released with a strangled groan, Aoba drawing it out of him as he kissed him deeper than they had that night. When his hips had stopped spasming and he could feel himself going limp in the loosened grip on his cock, Mizuki pulled from Aoba, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths.

It was this time that Mizuki broke the fragile bond, licking his lips as he inhaled a shaky breath. Through heavy lidded eyes, he watched as Aoba straightened his back, bringing hand to his lips, where he licked at the pearlescent liquid that coated his palm.

“Aoba…?”

Aoba gave him a gentle grin, licking at the bitter semen, “So dirty…”

If possible, Mizuki would say that he could feel the flush light up his cheeks. Aoba grinned wider and leaned in, caressing his cheek with a clean hand, fingers daintily tracing the shell of his ear. “Even the tips of your ears get red,” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Mizuki felt weightless.

He pulled Aoba against his chest, nuzzling his neck, baring the skin as he pushed blue tendrils of hair from off his shoulder. He feel Aoba chuckle against him, embracing him tightly. He feels it then, strained against material like he had been, pressed against his lower abdomen. Mizuki nibbled on Aoba’s neck, earning a breathless moan.

“What about you?” He asked, nudging his hips, to bring Aoba’s attention to what Mizuki was implying.

Aoba chuckled lightly, “Pervert.”

Without much effort, Aoba pulled back, slipping out of Mizuki’s lap to stand on his wobbly legs. Mizuki gave a grumble, which only earned another laugh from Aoba.

“I’m serious,” he grumbled.

Aoba nodded, “I know, and I’m happy.”

“Huh?”

Aoba shook his head, “Nothing.”

“It is something,” Mizuki grumbled and stood, his pants hanging lower on his hips, as he twisted and shoved Aoba back down onto the sofa. All Aoba did was return a large smirk across his face as Mizuki leaned over, hands working at the studded belt he wore. “You can’t just leave it like that. Blue balls hurt like a bitch.” Mizuki continued grumbling under his breath.

Aoba stretched out, not stopping him, “And you would know?”

“Yes, I would know,” he said.

“Cause of me?”

The sincerity of the question paused his motions, just as he finished undoing Aoba’s jeans. Where his hands hovered, he could feel the caged erection twitching, brushing ever so often against his hand. He would almost say it was enough to instill his arousal, but he knew it wouldn’t be that quick to recover. Aoba gave him such a look that caused him to loose his breath, and not for the first time since he’d come to terms with his feelings for the blue haired male.

“Yeah,” Mizuki said, his lips forming a thin line, “cause of you.”

Without anything else to say, Aoba shifted his hips, lifting them so that Mizuki could tug them down to his knees. He slowly eased the stiffness out of the boxers he wore, tugging them down to pool at his knees with his pants. He found himself breathless and aching with the want to touch Aoba all over. And with a glance to see if he had permission to touch him, and it was granted, he felt he wouldn’t be able to return.

“Aoba…” he panted, climbing onto the couch to straddle Aoba’s legs, where he leaned down and quickly, without much thought, took the cock that twitched lightly into his mouth.

Aoba tensed and arched, feeling the pleasure spark throughout his system.

Mizuki’s hands were on him, pushing up his black shirt, so that he could run his palms flat along the expanse of Aoba’s abdomen, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. He found the blue haired male’s nipples, brushing his thumb across them, capturing them in between his fingertips and tweaking them.

Aoba arched, moan falling from his lips.

And this is what Mizuki had been craving.

Even if Aoba didn’t feel the same.

Even if it was just the alcohol dulling inhibitions.

He was content.

And this is what he wanted.

He bobbed his head in time, matching the boy’s pace with his lightly thrusting hips. Fingers danced through his hair, gripping, moans filling the room. Mizuki ran his tongue along the length of Aoba’s cock, tonguing the slit as he used his free hand to stroke the base.

Aoba panted.

Mizuki soared.

Catching a glimpse of the wanton look upon Aoba’s face, only urged him to duck his head back down, using his hands now, massaging his sac with a gentle touch as he sucked on the head of his cock in time with the stroking of his hand. He was sure in the heat of the moment he’d smacked himself in the nose a few times too forcefully as he gained rhythm and applied more friction.

Aoba didn’t say, but Mizuki could tell. Just with the tightening grip in his brunette hair, and when Aoba came in his mouth, he was ready, swallowing the salty thickness Aoba released as he continued to suck his quickly wilting cock. He pulled back, wiping at the back of his mouth with his hand, catching the pearlescent liquid that had escaped.

“Pervert,” Aoba laughed, his face flushed as he panted.

Mizuki laughed with him, nodding, “Yeah… just a little.”

He leaned over him, embracing him in a tight hug that was returned just as tightly.

They stayed like that, breathing in the scent of each other.

It was silent, but breathless against his collarbone, but he still was able to hear him.

“I… love you… Mizuki…”

And Mizuki was happy, truly happy.

“I love you too, Aoba.”

View Also On: AO3

Originally Posted to: [livejournal.com profile] dmmd_kink_meme on May 29, 2013.

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