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He hasn’t got a clue what fucking time it is, but he honestly doesn’t care. He’s shaking from head to toe with restless energy, and his body feels like it’s about to explode.
He figures no one else will be on the beach at this hour so he forgoes his blazer, socks, and shoes, and leaves his cottage without a second thought. Just as he’s turning the corner to leave the resort, a strike of white catches his attention, and he turns to look in the direction of the color.
He finds Hajime, sitting by the pool deck with his knees pulled to his chest.
He glances at the clock above the restaurant. Hell, it’s nearly four in the morning. What the fuck was the guy doing out there this late?
Cursing himself for his curiosity, he crosses the deck and steps closer to the pool. His footsteps alert Hajime, who looks up. He looks even worse up close; weak eyes with dark circles and messy hair. His eyes even seem darker, sadder, more tired. The guy looks fucking awful.
He can certainly see why. They’ve been on this island for god knows how long and the majority of them were dead. Hajime had every right to be restless, and look like shit, but it still worried him.
Against his better judgment, he steps closer, and Hajime greets him with a reserved, “hey, Hiko.” The nickname curls its way into his brain and leaves a little grin on his face.
Of the five of them left, he and Hajime specifically had gotten quite close. It started with favors, just common courtesy things. And that somehow evolved into sleepovers and cuddles in the moonlight of their cottages. Neither had a clue where they stood, but it worked for them. So Fuyuhiko greets him right back with a little wave before plopping down beside him.
He positions his arms back to lean against them, and sighs. “What’s got you out here this late?” asks Fuyuhiko, glancing over just in time to almost catch Hajime staring.
Hajime clears his throat nervously, but pushes himself to relax and let his feet dangle into the pool water. “Oh you know,” he replies, “the same old insomnia.” Hajime isn’t lying; it’s something he’s been struggling with for years, and Fuyuhiko knows that, but it’s said with such casualty that it sends a shiver down Fuyuhiko’s spine.
So Fuyuhiko does what he knows, and he says, “come sleep in my room, then.”
But Hajime shakes his head. “I’d have nightmares. I don’t really feel like sleeping.”
Fuyuhiko nods quietly. He gets it. He feels like that sometimes, too, especially after Peko’s death.
Fuyuhiko fishes around in his pocket and pulls a box of cigarettes and a lighter. Hajime glances over at the glint of moonlight on the metal, and grimaces. He hates that Fuyuhiko smokes, but he never says anything, even though Fuyuhiko knows he wants to. He lights one and pops it between his lips, taking a deep inhale before letting it out through his nose. “Like a dragon,” Kazuichi had told him one time, and he supposed he wasn’t wrong.
The two of them sit there quietly for a moment. Hajime is inching closer, slowly enough that he hopes Fuyuhiko doesn’t notice how obvious he’s being. Fuyuhiko lets him, taking drag after breath of his cigarette until the thing is dead and Hajime has his arm around Fuyuhiko’s waist. Fuyuhiko puts the butt of the thing out on the deck and tosses it aside. He’ll get it whenever they get up, but now isn’t the time.
Instead, he puts Hajime out of his misery and climbs to sit sideways in his lap. Another not-new occurrence, but still one that makes them both pink in the face. Hajime lets his head fall forward onto Fuyuhiko’s shoulder without a word. Another few minutes of silence pass by. Fuyuhiko starts to squirm, antsy from sitting still too long.
“Hajime,” he starts, picking up the man’s head with his hands. “Let’s go somewhere, okay?”
Hajime stands up then, not even bothering to put Fuyuhiko down and just carrying him over his shoulder. Fuyuhiko goes, relaxed and calm over this man. Hajime is strong, sturdy. He doesn’t fear being dropped at all.
Somewhere turns out to be the diner. Hajime all but kicks the door open and shut, setting Fuyuhiko down gently in one of the booths and sitting across from him.
There’s more silence, but Fuyuhiko knows that it’s just Hajime thinking about what he wants to say, and when he finally opens his mouth, Fuyuhiko is ready to listen. “I’ve been thinking a lot, lately.” Hajime reaches up a hand to brush across the scar on his forehead, and over the red eye on the left side of his face. “Ya know, sometimes I can still hear him in my head. He’s not saying anything bad or anything. It’s just.. knowing he’s there sets me off sometimes.”
Fuyuhiko nods silently.
“Drives me fucking crazy sometimes,” Hajime curses, reaching up higher with both hands to fist them into his hair. “I tried so hard to separate myself from him, but I just can’t. I can still hear him. He’s still there.”
A quick beat passes.
“It gets worse at night. So I’ve just sort of stopped sleeping until I feel like I’m gonna die.”
That’s not a lie. All of them have noticed, how Hajime comes and goes at odd times of the day, always looks tired, rarely joins them for meals anymore. They know it’s not healthy. But there’s nothing they can do. Not from within this simulation.
There’s another second before Hajime speaks again. “I sleep better with people, but I figured everyone was sleeping right now. I didn’t want to bother.”
“You’re never a bother,” Fuyuhiko retorts quickly. “At least, not in my fuckin cottage.”
Hajime laughs heartily, a lovely little crinkle in his eyes and a weak smile on his face. He lets go of his hair and reaches across the table for Fuyuhiko’s hands. “I know.”
Fuyuhiko feels his face bloom in heat, and he knows he probably looks like a fucking tomato now. However, knowing this, he’s surprised when he looks up to find Hajime blushing as well.
For the longest time, Fuyuhiko has been feeling this kind of warmth with each passing day, but only during his interactions with Hinata. At nights when they rest together. When they’re at the beach with the others. Even just walking side by side. A warmth blooms in his chest like a flower too large and suffocates him until he has to walk away to collect himself.
And it’s just Hajime.
And if Peko were here, she would probably tell him to fucking do something with his feelings.
Maybe now is as good of a time as ever.
“Hajime,” Fuyuhiko starts. “Come back to my room with me and kiss me until neither of us can breathe.” And he has to pause, because that is not what the fuck he wanted to say. His confession was supposed to be kind and gentle and romantic. But, once a yakuza, always a yakuza, and the dirty mouth that comes with him.
And for Hajime’s credit, he starts fucking laughing. Laughing and wheezing and rubbing at his eyes that are shedding fucking tears with how hard his body is jolting. And if Fuyuhiko weren’t staring and thinking about how much he loves Hajime’s laugh, he’d probably be thinking about how much he wants to disappear.
But eventually, Hajime calms down, and finally locks eyes with a flustered Fuyuhiko. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”
There’s a slight pause before both of them stand and then Hajime is picking Fuyuhiko up by his ass and practically racing across the island, both of them laughing as they go. This situation isn’t funny. Their friends are dead and Hajime has a psychopath in his head but finally, finally their feelings are out in the open and it feels so freeing to finally know and be able to say it.
When they get back to Fuyuhiko’s cottage, he fumbles with the key for a moment before sliding it into the lock and shoving the door open. He drops them on the floor once he gets inside, having missed the side table. But that thought flies out the window when Hajime pushes him up against the door and kisses him like he’s trying to pull his soul from his lips. He’s so heated about it, one hand on Fuyuhiko’s ass and the other dragging up under his shirt against his skin.
His lips and tongue move so smoothly against Fuyuhiko’s mouth that it’s almost agonizing how much he’s struggling to catch up. Fuyuhiko would hate to admit it, but this is his first kiss, his first everything, and Hajime is making it so good for him. Hajime backs up soon enough, and breathes hotly into Fuyuhiko’s mouth. “We doin’ this?” he asks, voice soft and gentle.
“Yeah,” Fuyuhiko says without even a millisecond of hesitation. “We’re doing this.”
And two seconds later, Fuyuhiko is laid out on his bed, legs spread and Hajime kneeling between them. He hears Hajime’s knees hit the floor. His hands find the hem of Fuyuhiko’s pants and boxers in a second, and their eyes meet. A silent plea for permission to remove them.
Fuyuhiko’s enthusiastic nod is only partially delayed because he is certainly fucking embarrassed by how hard he is just from Hajime casually devouring his mouth. But the nod comes anyway, and Hajime’s hands are strong as they pull off Fuyuhiko’s pants and then undies in one swift pull. And now, Fuyuhiko is ass naked in his bed, shaking a bit as he tries to gaze into Hajime’s heated eyes past his solid cock. It lays against his belly, rock hard and twitching a bit. There’s already a bead of pre at the slit.
Hajime’s eyes widen considerably, and it almost makes Fuyuhiko think something is wrong until he whispers, “holy hell.”
The second Hajime’s warm hand envelops his dick, Fuyuhiko’s own hand shoots up to cover his mouth to stifle the filthy, loud curse that spews from his mouth. Fuck, his hand is so hot against how sensitive he is, not to mention the delicious friction that comes from Hajime stroking up and then down a second later.
“Oh,” Hajime sighs, all dreamy and warm. It sends butterflies into Fuyuhiko’s stomach. “You’ve been needing me, haven’t you?” Fuyuhiko is half tempted to kick Hajime in the fucking head but the only thing that comes is a heedy whine from his slack mouth.
Hajime continues to stroke him. Though, his hand isn’t providing the smooth, delicious friction that Fuyuhiko needs after a few moments. His hand is too dry. But Hajime seems to be able to read his mind, because he pulls away for a moment to fucking lick his hand, heel to tip. And then, worse, he leans forward and takes Fuyuhiko’s cock into his mouth, causing the other man to shout out in shock. But now, at least, his cock and Hajime’s hand are wet, and Hajime reaches back to take Fuyuhiko’s cock in hand. The slide is much easier this time, much to Fuyuhiko’s chagrin because of the sound it pulls from him. He can’t help but roll his hips up to meet Hajime’s hand, the friction so delectable that it makes his eyes flutter closed. It’s so good.
Hajime is certainly making for a lovely first experience.
Eventually, though, Hajime seems to grow bored of just stroking Fuyuhiko and watching him fall apart. So he pulls his hand away, and as Fuyuhiko is about to curse at him for stopping, he leans forward and once again swallows the cock in front of him all the way down. Fuyuhiko can’t help the whiny curse that falls from his lips, his upper body going limp and melting against his bed sheets.
Hajime’s mouth is so hot and fucking wet around his dick that it’s getting hard to think. He wants to praise Hajime. Beg for more. Tell him how fucking good it feels. But he can’t speak. His mouth is full with curses and moans, falling out with every filthy slurp from Hajime’s mouth. He can’t fucking breathe.
And to make things worse and more humiliating, there’s a hot tie starting to boil up in his gut.
“Fuck, gonna cum-”
And Hajime pulls off, ruining what would have been a mindblowing orgasm for Fuyuhiko.
“You fucker-!” Fuyuhiko starts, trying to squirm to pull Hajime back down. But then Hajime’s warm hands envelop Fuyuhiko’s thighs, and any further complaint dies on his tongue.
There’s a warm smile on Hajime’s face, and it makes that pit of warmth in Fuyuhiko’s tummy burn hotter. “Patience. I didn’t want you to cum just yet. We’re not done tonight.” A small piece of Fuyuhiko wonders how Hajime is being so calm about all this. Like he knows. Like he’s experienced this with someone else. And that thought makes him wonder who it was that got to see Hajime like that, reverent between his thighs and whispering all filthy like that.
Since this is Fuyuhiko’s cottage, Hajime has to embarrassingly excuse himself and run back to his own for.. supplies, as he told Fuyuhiko. Before he can even wonder what that means, Hajime comes back with a box of condoms, a pump-bottle of lubricant, and some clothes to stay the night. And it’s the clothes that make Fuyuhiko’s heart skip a beat, because it meant that Hajime planned on staying when they were done.
Which reminded him, “Hey how..” he coughed awkwardly. “How far do you want to go with this?”
“I should be asking you that,” Hajime hummed back. “You’re the one I’m about to fuck.”
“Jesus, Hajime,” Fuyuhiko groaned. “Why the hell do you know so much? Have you ever even had sex?”
And then Hajime is quiet for a moment, and Fuyuhiko freaks out thinking he’s done something wrong. “Yeah, I have,” is all Hajime says back, and Fuyuhiko knows to shut the hell up. “But,” he says after a moment, perking back up. “Lay down. Comfortably, on your back. And prop your butt up with a pillow.”
Fuyuhiko does as told, his heart racing again. He’s really about to lose his virginity. When his shoulders hit the bed and his legs spread effortlessly, Hajime sighs a sweet sound. “So pretty for me, Fuyu..”
Fuck, that nickname kills him.
Fuyuhiko watches attentively as Hajime lubes up his fingers, rubbing them together for a minute to warm the gel against his skin. Then, he takes position between Fuyuhiko’s legs and locks eyes with him. “This is going to be a bit uncomfortable. Try to focus on relaxing. If you need a distraction, go ahead and stroke yourself.”
“Get to it,” Fuyuhiko rasps, not replying to Hajime’s instructions but keeping them in mind. And then he feels Hajime’s finger at his hole, and loses his breath as the digit presses in. Yes, it’s a tad uncomfortable, but Hajime’s finger is so fucking warm and thick in him that he can hardly focus on anything past how his cock twitches violently on his belly as it happens. “Holy fucking shit.”
“I know, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Fuck, Fuyuhiko feels like he’s falling apart just lying here. He wants to squirm, to writhe. Maybe even roll his hips down for more. But Hajime can read him so well that he does what Fuyuhiko’s mind is screaming for. Because he pushes that digit in deeper and deeper until it’s fully buried inside of him and stretching him in a way he didn’t know was possible.
His finger also feels so fucking close to something but Fuyuhiko can’t figure out what it is for the life of him.
Hajime sets a slow pace with his hand. In, out, in, out, in slow, measured thrusts that leave Fuyuhiko trembling and spilling moans mindlessly. It got good fast.
Eventually, Hajime removes his finger. Fuyuhiko remembers himself and tries to ask what he’s doing, but then two fingers press back into him, and his tight muscles all melt into mush in the bed. A truly humiliating sound is pressed past his closed lips, a needy thing that Fuyuhiko would never make in his right mind. But he is not in his right mind, not with Hajime’s fingers wriggling inside of him like they’re on a mission.
And then they brush against something that makes Fuyuhiko see stars, and he’s helpless to the orgasm that curls and boils over in a fraction of a second. He watches through lidded, unfocused eyes as his cock twitches and kicks against his skin, spilling rope after rope of cum across his belly. Some even lands in the baby hairs of his chest.
When Fuyuhiko eventually pulls himself together, he finds Hajime’s eyes locked on the mess on his chest. And then he doesn’t have even a second before Hajime moves up (which changes the angle of his fingers, which, holy fucking shit) and leans to lick the mess off of him. His tongue is warm, just like it was when it was wrapped around his dick, and it makes Fuyuhiko woozy.
“Fuck..” he finally whispers, head falling back from the tense hold he had it in due to his orgasm. Which reminds him that he might have just ruined the rest of the night. But, as if once again reading his mind, he feels Hajime’s fingers wiggle inside him again, resparking that heat in his belly. God, the arousal is building fast this time, even though he just came.
Hajime brushes his fingers against that spot inside him again, and again, and again, just to listen to Fuyuhiko moan and cry as he fucks his fingers gently against it. Fuyuhiko knows, through his blurry mind, that Hajime is going to ruin him in that exact spot with his dick.
And then Hajime works him up to three fingers, and Fuyuhiko feels like he’s going to crumble. It’s so good, and Hajime is speeding up. He can hear his fucking heartbeat in his ears, and Hajime’s breathing down his body. It’s so good. So good!
And then Hajime pulls away, and Fuyuhiko inhales sharply. Fuck, he didn’t realize he was panting until he got some fresh air into his lungs. He tries to blink away the weight holding his eyelids and meets eyes with Hajime again.
Shit, just from finger-fucking Fuyuhiko, Hajime looks probably worse than he does. His eyes are blown out, his mouth is hanging open, and his hair is a wreck. More importantly, there’s a thick tent and a sizable wet patch right at the front of his pants. And Fuyuhiko wants it.
“Fucking undress and get in my damn bed.”
Two minutes later finally finds the two of them naked. Hajime is knelt between his legs, and those legs are wrapped around his waist. They’re so close to finally getting to it, but they’ve been entranced for a bit. Staring at one another. Studying each other’s skin and muscle and scars and bodies.
Fuyuhiko is fucking breathless looking at Hajime. He’s so fucking handsome.
“Come on,” Fuyuhiko whispers, wrapping his arms around Hajime’s neck and breaking him from his trance. “Fuck me, Hajime. Make fucking love to me.” Their eyes meet, and Hajime pushes in.
Fuyuhiko feels like starburst. Like raging tide. Like running. Electric. Fuyuhiko feels fucking electric.
No words are spoken as the two of them pant hot and heavy against each other’s mouths as Hajime presses in and in, every fucking inch punching Fuyuhiko in the fucking chest. He can’t breathe. Distracted. Heavy with relaxation. Full. So fucking full of Hajime, inside and out.
Hajime isn’t faring much better, shaking above Fuyuhiko, hips stuttering and pressing deeper. And when he’s finally in all the way, his arms give out and he collapses on top of Fuyuhiko. And the two of them lie there for a while to breathe, to calm down, to hold one another. The feeling is so fucking much, and the urge to cry is strong in Fuyuhiko’s chest. But he just holds Hajime close in his arms, buries his face in his chest, and breathes.
But the heat building thicker and hotter in Fuyuhiko’s gut won’t let him think straight. So he thrusts up his hips, and relishes in the hot little moan that Hajime makes in his ear. And then Hajime begins to thrust.
And Fuyuhiko feels like he’s going to explode.
Every nerve is alight and his skin is too tight and holy fucking shit it’s so good. Hajime finds that certain spot inside of him almost immediately and starts to bully it with the fat cock lodged inside of him. He can practically feel it in his throat. He feels incredible.
Hajime seems to be feeling about the same, his mouth rambling on and on about how tight Fuyuhiko is and about how good he feels around his dick. And all that talk is going straight to Fuyuhiko’s head.
It’s intense, for sure. His stomach is tight and he feels so fucking full that it’s almost hard to breathe. His arms and legs are shaking from being wrapped around Hajime and he feels like he’s suffocating with the man’s weight on his chest but he can’t even think straight to ask Hajime to change positions.
Eventually, though, Hajime seems to get the idea, because he pushes himself back up onto his arms and picks up the fucking pace.
Fuyuhiko feels like he’s dying. The pleasure is mounting higher and higher and it’s so overwhelming that he can’t stop moaning and crying. He knows there are tears falling from his eyes, because his cheeks feel wet. His jaw is starting to hurt from all the sounds he’s making. And he feels so good. It’s so good.
If sex always feels like this, he wants it every day with this man.
Then Hajime changes the position again, pulls out for a fraction of a second leaving Fuyuhiko confused and yearning. But then he lifts Fuyuhiko so gently and switches them, Hajime now lying on his back and Fuyuhiko above him. He picks up Fuyuhiko like he weighs nothing and slowly seats him back down on his cock, leaving the smaller man to sigh with pure delight. He could easily get addicted to this.
Then, with a smile and relaxed eyes that shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as they are, Hajime tells him, “Ride me, kitten.”
Fuyuhiko has never been so hard in his entire life.
He picks up his hips slowly, experimentally, and feels the drag of Hajime’s cock even deeper than before. It takes his breath away, resulting in a high keening sound as Hajime settles his hands onto Fuyuhiko’s thighs. And as he gets to the tip, Fuyuhiko breathes out heavily and settles back down, ass meeting Hajime’s hips with a slapping sound that makes his spine shudder. And he continues like that. Picking himself up slowly, then lowering himself back down with heavy sighs. It’s slow, it’s a drag, and it’s keeping him on the precipice of his impending orgasm.
Hajime’s hands are getting tighter on his legs, and he starts to thrust up in response to Fuyuhiko’s hips meeting his. Deeper. It’s even deeper now, and Fuyuhiko is almost nauseous with how deep he can feel him. The coil of heat in his belly is tight and getting tighter. Fuyuhiko is right there. He needs just a bit more to push him over the edge. He’s so close.
He tells Hajime this much, granted through weak moans and whiny sighs. And Hajime tightens his hands one more time and looks Fuyuhiko in the eyes. And then he says, “go on. Cum for me, baby. I’ve got you.”
And Fuyuhiko feels sparks behind his eyes. Feels his entire body tense up and his arms and legs shake and his toes curl as an orgasm from heaven racks through his body. His vision whites out and all he can hear is ringing, but he knows that he’s probably practically screaming with the pleasure that explodes out of him. And then Hajime is right behind him, probably from Fuyuhiko’s body gripping him like that. He feels the hot spurt of Hajime’s cum fill his body, and then more, painting his insides and coating him in a warmth that floods his body from the inside out. And he can hear the noises Hajime is making, and the squirming of his strong body beneath Fuyuhiko. And he can feel when it finally stops, and their eyes meet.
Fuyuhiko chokes, and suddenly he’s crying. He’s crying and sobbing and reaching up to his eyes to rub away the tears. Hajime sits up, changing the angle of his cock in him, but Fuyuhiko can’t feel it, only feels the way that Hajime’s arms wrap around him and Hajime’s face tucked into his shoulder. The two of them sit there like that for what feels like forever. Cum drying on Hajime’s chest. Tears soaking Fuyuhiko’s eyes. Bodies coming down from incredible orgasms. And when Fuyuhiko finally pulls away and meets Hajime’s eyes again, he can’t help but lean down, to kiss him and feel him and remind himself that this is real. This happened, and he finally got those feelings off his chest.
“Are you okay..?” Hajime asks quietly against his mouth.
“I’m okay,” Fuyuhiko echoes back.
And when the two of them are cleaned up (after Fuyuhiko complaining about the cum in his ass to remind Hajime that he brought condoms and then didn’t use them) and dressed for sleep, they crawl into Fuyuhiko’s messy bed, shove around the pillows, and tuck themselves into the blanket.
Hajime’s hands find Fuyuhiko’s cheek and then his hip. “That was..”
“Fucking overwhelming,” Fuyuhiko huffs, eyes already falling closed. He’s exhausted now. But then Hajime laughs, and he smiles sleepily.
“Yeah. Overwhelming. But.. it was amazing..”
Fuyuhiko just huffs him off, shoving his face into Hajime’s bare chest and nuzzling against his skin. “It was. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
Hajime laughs again, a short little thing that gives Fuyuhiko butterflies just like always. “Okay,” he whispers, leaning down briefly to kiss Fuyuhiko’s forehead. “Goodnight, Hiko..”
“Night.. Hajime.”