Chapter Text
Yata twirled his enemy’s knife in his hand effortlessly. His boot dug into the other’s throat, just enough to let them breathe with great difficulty. He couldn’t kill him just yet - he needed answers, and he needed them now.
“Look.” He scowled, pushing his heel into the soft flesh to make sure they were listening. “I just need one thing from you.”
The familiar face that was lying flat on the ground simply glared at him, their broken glasses providing no practical use.
“You were never much of a talker.” Yata clicked his tongue and lifted his foot. The other man shot up instantly, gasping for air. After a moment Yata sighed and helped the other up. “You fucking suck at fighting without your glasses.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Fushimi continued to glare at him. “That’s why I don’t fight close combat.”
“You should still be prepared.” Yata punched Fushimi’s shoulder lightly, offering him a smile. “I’ll give you points for lasting longer than last time though.”
They had been sparring in the dim light of the moon. War was likely to break out soon between the United Front and the Green Nation, and Yata had offered to help their best operations man some practice on the field - without his glasses. Fushimi was practically excellent at everything. He had perfect aim and could easily hit his mark with almost any weapon. Without his glasses, however, he was severely crippled, which led to the Embassy’s decision to keep Fushimi away from the battlefield.
Yata, however, wasn’t so lucky. He was one of the Red Nation’s Platoon Sergeants, which required him to have his feet on enemy soil, commanding troops to victory. Fushimi had tried to convince them to change plans and keep Yata in a safer place, but was immediately overruled by the majority.
“The moon’s pretty tonight.” Yata said, staring up at the sky.
Fushimi followed his gaze, humming in agreement.
“It won’t be the last one, too, y’know.” It was a full moon, illuminating everything around him. When he looked back to Fushimi, he couldn’t help but stare at his facial features. The frames he wore for the practice led his eyes to Fushimi’s, and Yata didn’t notice he had been caught until his lips suddenly met the other’s.
They kissed for a long time. Yata’s arms wound around Fushimi’s neck and pulled him close. Fushimi’s was wrapped around Yata’s waist, and if Yata wasn’t so engrossed in their kiss he’d have commented on how Fushimi’s arms were shaking slightly. When their lips parted, Fushimi rested his forehead on Yata’s. “Don’t fucking die out there.”
“Like hell I will.” Yata laughed. “Who else is going to take care of your skinny ass?”
Fushimi was quiet for a moment. “Just promise me.”
“Are you scared?” Yata murmured, placing a hand on Fushimi’s cheek.
“No.” Fushimi was lying, obviously, but Yata let him. They’d been together since they were children on the street, orphaned during an attack that instigated the United Nations’ Peace Treaty. Fifteen years later, however, the Green Nation has decided to break the treaty and waged war on the Blue and Red Nations, which pulled the remaining nations into the battle as well.
“I’m not going anywhere, Saru.” Yata kissed him again. “I mean, I’m gonna go fight and all, but you have my back, right? I’ll be alright - we’ll win.”
Fushimi sighed and pulled Yata in closer.
“We gotta be at the top of the world still, remember?” Yata continued to comfort Fushimi, fully aware that his words were not reaching the other. “I mean we’re having the time of our lives, now, I think… but it’d be night to… you know. Settle. And I can’t settle without you. And you won’t let me die anyways, right? So there.”
“You didn’t promise.”
Yata sighed, smiling a little. “I promise I’ll come back alive.”
“You fucking better.” Fushimi leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was desperate - desperate for confirmation, for Yata’s words to be real. Yata returned the kiss, eager to please and assure his lover. When they finally needed to let go to breathe, Yata snuck Fushimi’s real glasses back on and smiled. “Is that enough?”
“You know that’s never enough.” Fushimi mumbled, looking away awkwardly.
Yata laughed and stepped away before taking Fushimi’s hand. “How about we head back now and help you feel better,
then?”
Fushimi looked at him and nodded, hiding his eyes behind the hair that had fallen in front of his face. Yata couldn’t help but smile as he tugged the other back to their shared room. It was a long and quiet walk; Yata took comfort in their steady footsteps and the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew through the forest. They were still far from the front lines, but soon they’d have to part ways, and to be frank - Yata was terrified of being apart from him.
It wasn’t just Fushimi he was comforting.
“Come on.” Yata pushed Fushimi into their room as soon as they made it. Yata barely had time to lock the door before Fushimi had him pressed onto, pinning him in place while nipping Yata’s nape. Yata sighed, chuckling as he easily pushed Fushimi off and onto the bed. He threw their hats onto the floor as Yata straddled him, taking in the sight of Fushimi’s flushed face and the dirty, ruffled uniform. He leaned down for a kiss, letting Fushimi unbutton his uniform and get the vest and jacket off in one go. Yata shivered with delight as Saru ran his fingers across his bare skin, resisting the urge to moan.
He began to unbutton Fushimi’s uniform lifting his ass off of Fushimi just enough so it’d barely touch the the other’s bulge. While Yata was busy undressing them, Fushimi let his hands wander to Yata’s chest and back down to rest on his hips. It was driving Yata crazy and Fushimi knew it very well - Yata had quickened his pace and it wasn’t very long before he had the both of them completely naked, but he still kept a distance from Fushimi’s now hard cock.
“What’s the plan?” Yata murmured, leaning down for a kiss.
“We fuck, obviously.” Fushimi frowned.
Yata rolled his eyes. “Well no shit, but like…” He shrugged. “What do you want to happen?”
Fushimi tightened his hold on Yata’s hips and pulled him down gently, letting their cock rub against each other. Yata couldn’t help but moan then, immediately understanding what Fushimi wanted.
“At least get me ready.” He breathed, reaching over Fushimi’s head for a bottle of lubricant that they kept by the bed. It was awkward having to do this part of the routing, but he’s rather stick a few fingers up his ass first then go in completely unprepared. He squeezed some of it onto his fingers and spread it around, watching Fushimi from between his fingers. He knew he had just told Fushimi to do this part, but he didn’t want to give him complete control of the night - so he turned around and steadily slid a finger into his waiting asshole, making sure to give Fushimi a great view as he quickly worked himself up. He stifled a gasp as he added another slick finger, slowing his pace as his body got used to the intrusion. It started to feel very good, but it still wasn’t enough for either of them. Fushimi groaned impatiently and took Yata’s hand, forcing him to add a third finger and slowly, yet at the same time quickly, forcing Yata to finger himself.
Yata assumed it was because he was getting needy himself that it was starting to get easier.
He leaned back down and let his ass eagerly rub Fushimi’s dick, denying it entrance every time it got close enough. He loved the desperate noises Fushimi made when it almost hit home, and it wasn’t until Fushimi had flipped them over he was face-first onto the bed that he finally let the other have his way.
Fushimi had one hand on Yata’s throat, pinning him down as he forced Yata to raise his ass. It always somehow ended up like this - Fushimi would want one thing but would quickly hit his limit and yank Yata under him to fuck him senseless.
Yata honestly loved how quickly Fushimi got desperate to fuck him. Their time in the military wouldn’t let them play for long since they barely got sleep in normal days, so something like foreplay wasn’t something they’d really do.
Maybe when the war was over and they finally got to settle - then they could experience it all.
But for now Yata had the sheets in-between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his voice as Fushimi shoved his cock in his still-tight hole. He only stayed hilt-deep for a minute before pulling away and slamming it back in, quickly finding a rhythm and pulling back Yata’s head by the hair so he could see his lover’s face as he fucked him senselessly.
They were hungry for each other - they’re always hungry for each other. It wasn’t long until Fushimi reached his limit, but before he could push himself over he pulled out, breathing heavily as he flipped Yata over and forced him to sit up, kissing him as he struggled not to jerk himself off. “Fuck, Misaki.” He breathed, taking Yata’s dick in his hand and pumping it hard and fast. Yata was quickly reaching his limit, too, taking Fushimi’s dick and joining him in jerking each other off. He bit Fushimi’s shoulder hard as he finally came, the desire to make Fushimi feel the same ecstasy driving him as he continued to pump Fushimi.
His energy was quickly draining, though, so Fushimi gave him a hand and helped send him over the edge, his body tensing as his load joined Yata’s on their hands.
They sat against each other, breathing hard as they slowly fell from their high. Yata was kind of sorry it had to be only a quickie that night, but the thought of what came after the war filled him with more determination to get it over with.
“The morning bell is in a few hours.” Fushimi murmured, pulling away and looking at the mess of clothes on the floor. “We need to shower.”
Yata sighed and reached out to cup Fushimi’s cheek. “This is why we alternate training nights and sex, dumbass.”
“This was your idea.” He stuck his tongue out childishly before pulling away to pile the clothes all in one spot, using a spare - only slightly used - handkerchief to clean himself off. Yata got off the bed to join him in cleaning up before taking their sex-soiled things and dumping them into the sink to clean another time.
It was already known around here to leave ‘dirty’ things in the sink so that cleaners wouldn’t touch them.
Yata resisted the urge to clean it right then and there, and instead focused on getting Fushimi under the covers so they could catch some shuteye.
“Tomorrow.” Fushimi mumbled as Yata collected him in his arms.
“What about tomorrow?” Yata asked, pushing Fushmi’s hair out of his eyes.
“Not tomorrow.” Fushimi sighed.
“Tomorrow won’t be our last day. Not the next day, not ever.” Yata replied, fighting back a yawn. “Now sleep.”
Fushimi sighed contentedly. “Yeah.”