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Daigo’s fingers laced with Yoshitaka’s, palms hot against the backs of his hands as they pressed Yoshitaka’s flat against the wall. His fingers squeezed briefly before they slid away with a playful caress down Yoshitaka’s forearm. “Don’t move them,” he murmured against Yoshitaka’s ear, sending a shudder down Yoshitaka’s spine. “I'll stop if you do.”
Yoshitaka frowned, but nodded regardless. It wasn’t often that Daigo took charge in intimacy; he might instigate, but he was generally content to let Yoshitaka take the lead once he’d expressed his interest. When the rare urge overtook him, though… well. It was like a typhoon, sweeping away everything in its path—Yoshitaka’s resistance included.
Daigo’s body was a solid line of heat against Yoshitaka’s back as he wrapped his arms around him. The embrace lingered, almost tender, and Yoshitaka shifted uncomfortably. Daigo chuckled into the side of Yoshitaka’s neck at the movement—which was absolutely not a squirm—but obligingly loosened the cage of his arms to instead run a hand up Yoshitaka’s tie. His practiced hands had it loosened in a moment, tugging it free and letting it fall at their feet.
There was no pause before he turned his attention to the buttons of Yoshitaka’s shirt, swiftly sliding them from their buttonholes until he reached the waist of Yoshitaka’s trousers. Rather than pull the shirt loose, his fingers delved under the snug band to splay over Yoshitaka’s lower belly. They curled slightly, kneading like a pleased cat, and Yoshitaka very nearly purred himself. After a few seconds, though, Daigo scratched his fingernails up Yoshitaka’s abs as he tugged his shirt free and finished opening it.
Daigo wasted no time before tugging the collar of the shirt back and running his lips over the exposed nape of Yoshitaka’s neck—something he seemed to enjoy even more than Yoshitaka did. It always left a trail of shivers over Yoshitaka’s skin, a tingling awareness that a dangerous man was taking advantage of his vulnerability. The awareness only intensified when Daigo raised a hand to wrap it around Yoshitaka’s throat, holding firmly as the brush of lips turned into the scrape of teeth.
No-one else had ever—would ever—touch him in such a way, but when Daigo did it, it was like being touched by a live wire. The grip of Daigo’s hand was firm, not constrictive, but there was a tension in it, an undeniable strength that made Yoshitaka’s breath catch each time.
Now, with his thumb over Yoshitaka’s pulse point and his fingers stretched along Yoshitaka’s jawline, Daigo simply held him in place as he nibbled his way across Yoshitaka’s nape. Despite himself, Yoshitaka swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing against Daigo’s palm, and Daigo hummed, the sound vibrating against Yoshitaka’s skin.
Relenting, Daigo’s hand slipped away, trailing down, between his pecs and over his abs to his waist, stopping just above the band of his trousers. The tips of his fingers tapped consideringly, but didn’t dip under the fabric again, instead creeping around to his side, then his back. Daigo’s other hand joined the first beneath his shirt as his thumbs found the line of Yoshitaka’s spine, centering on it as his hands splayed across Yoshitaka’s warm skin and slowly slid up, tracing his spine as they went.
Yoshitaka hissed out a breath and pressed his hands more firmly against the wall, fingers curling against the plaster as Daigo pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his fabric-covered shoulder. Despite the simplicity of the stroke up his back, it felt as if Daigo’s hands were on his cock instead, stroking his shaft as it hardened within his increasingly-tight trousers.
When Daigo’s hands had trailed as far up Yoshitaka’s back as they could reach within the confines of his shirt, they separated, curving around Yoshitaka’s sides to tuck under his arms. They tugged lightly, making Yoshitaka strain to keep his hands on the wall as Daigo pressed against his back and lowered his mouth to his shoulder again.
It was no gentle kiss this time, but a sharp bite, a bruising force that should have been painful but instead made Yoshitaka’s cock jerk. Even through his shirt, Yoshitaka could feel the warmth of Daigo’s breath as his teeth pressed in, then released, replaced by light brush of lips. No doubt a mark would be revealed when he removed his shirt, and Yoshitaka reveled in the thought of it.
Against his ear, Daigo purred, a low sound that rumbled through them both. Yoshitaka tipped his head against Daigo’s, then cleared his throat and straightened again. It still felt too intimate, too much, and Yoshitaka leaned heavily into his hands in an attempt to put even a little space between them.
Daigo didn’t fight him, let him escape—as little as it was—only to move closer as his hands skimmed around to Yoshitaka’s front again. His fingers played over Yoshitaka’s taut abs, tracing their contours until they disappeared under Yoshitaka’s trousers. This time, however, there was no playfulness, only intent as he unbuckled Yoshitaka’s belt and tugged it loose, then popped the button of his fly, lowered the zipper, and shoved Yoshitaka's pants down to puddle around his ankles.
The sudden relief of restriction forced a groan from Yoshitaka’s throat, a low sound that he couldn’t help if he wanted to. His head tipped down and his eyes slammed shut as Daigo’s clever fingers slid into his tented briefs, trailing short, blunt nails lightly down the length of his shaft before Daigo’s calloused hand wrapped around it.
Yoshitaka dropped a hand to curl over Daigo’s through his briefs, only for Daigo to abruptly pull his hand away and step back. Blinking his eyes open, Yoshitaka stared at the wall before him, then frowned as he realized what had happened, why Daigo had withdrawn. Slowly, he returned his hand to the wall and leaned against it, swallowing thickly before he glanced over his shoulder to find Daigo’s implacable gaze.
Slowly, Daigo’s heat spread over Yoshitaka’s back as Daigo closed the distance between them, breath hot against Yoshitaka’s ear. “You don’t get another chance,” he murmured as his arms wrapped around Yoshitaka again, holding him firmly for a moment before his hands found the bend of Yoshitaka’s elbows, thumbs stroking lightly through the thin fabric of Yoshitaka’s sleeves.
Yoshitaka nodded as his fingers twitched, sheer will and anticipation the only things keeping his palms anchored to the wall. He held his breath as Daigo’s hands moved up Yoshitaka’s forearms to press over his, pinning them even more firmly, then dropped away to settle at Yoshitaka’s waist.
There was nothing of subtlety, nothing of care or gentleness as Daigo dipped his fingers under the waistband of Yoshitaka’s briefs and yanked them down—and it was perfect. Leaving the fabric banded halfway down Yoshitaka’s thighs, Daigo wasted no time in reclaiming his prize, wrapping his hand around Yoshitaka’s dick and sliding it roughly from base to tip.
Yoshitaka was fairly certain he swore, filthy words falling from his mouth as Daigo’s hand dipped lower to cup and squeeze his balls, tugging lightly until Yoshitaka strangled a moan and rocked his hips forward. With another chuckle against Yoshitaka’s ear, Daigo slid his hand down Yoshitaka’s dick and twisted it at the base, the roughness of his skin almost too much over the silk of Yoshitaka’s own.
When Daigo’s other hand began to toy with his balls as the first continued its torment of his cock, Yoshitaka was helpless to do anything but thrust into Daigo’s grip, his customary collection shattered against the wall of Daigo’s stubborn control. It was exhilarating, if disorienting, and Yoshitaka shifted closer to the wall to press his forehead between his hands.
Daigo was murmuring soft encouragements, as disconcertingly gentle as his grip was torturous, and tension pooled in Yoshitaka's balls a mere breath before pleasure exploded through him. A broken groan ripped from his throat as he came, hips straining against Daigo’s hands as Daigo grunted behind him and rode Yoshitaka’s orgasm, his thick erection nestled against Yoshitaka’s ass.
Only when Yoshitaka slumped against the wall did Daigo release his spent cock, hands instead bracketing his waist as Daigo placed an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck. A moment later, his hands found Yoshitaka’s again, fingers lacing through Yoshitaka’s as he pulled them away from the wall. Instead, Yoshitaka found them pinned to his own chest as Daigo nibbled the side of Yoshitaka’s neck, then released him with a sigh.
Daigo had barely relaxed his grip before Yoshitaka pulled his hands away and turned to crush his mouth against Daigo’s. The kiss was without finesse, a harsh melding of mouths more than a tender mating of lips, but it was perfect for them. Daigo’s groan was lost in the violence of it, buried even further under a gasp when Yoshitaka grabbed his shoulders and yanked Daigo with him as he leaned backwards, pinning himself under Daigo’s bulk against the wall.
Breaking away from the kiss, Daigo blinked dark, hazy eyes that went to half-mast when Yoshitaka shifted until Daigo was straddling one of his thighs, hard cock riding along the muscle as Yoshitaka caught Daigo’s hips between his hands and pulled him even closer. It took only a few thrusts before Daigo’s breath caught and his hips jerked, straining against Yoshitaka’s grip as he ground himself onto Yoshitaka’s thigh.
Yoshitaka watched the expressions flicker over Daigo’s face as he came down, bliss giving way to confusion giving way to embarrassment giving way to amusement—he’d never grow tired of the way Daigo bared more than just his body to him. He brought his hands up to cup Daigo’s cheeks and brushed his lips over Daigo’s, barely a whisper of contact that nevertheless brought a faint smile to Daigo’s face.
“I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager,” Daigo murmured. “You’re a terrible influence, Yoshitaka.”
Yoshitaka merely hummed and kissed Daigo again.