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A distant thunder wakes Yamato from his unplanned post-dinner nap. Not much time seems to have passed from the last time Akihiko told him to “just to go to bed”. The sky still hasn’t turned dark outside, though the night is angrily approaching.
Akihiko wouldn’t follow him to bed, too busy reading his book to go to sleep just yet, and so Yamato had refused to go. He wrapped himself around his bare leg, lying on the same couch in the opposite direction, and let his eyes rest just for a minute, lulled by the pitter patter of the rain outside the window Akihiko had left open (to enjoy the perfect kind of warm September weather).
His face is still hidden by the book held open on his chest when he wakes up, but Yamato can see his golden hair framing it like a lion’s mane and the wrinkle between his eyebrows. What he’s reading must be either very interesting or very offensive to cause such a cute little frown.
It makes him want to pinch his face the longer he stares at it. He bites the insides of his cheeks to suppress the impulse, hard enough that when he lets go of the flesh, it stings a bit.
The impulse is still lingering in his bones, but Yamato has long accepted the fact that he’s a weak man when it comes to a very short list of people, onto which Akihiko’s name has been sneakily written down while he was distracted trying to get under the boy’s skin. Not that he minds, anyway. Akihiko makes him feel like it’s worth having a weakness or two.
Speaking of which, he could poke a few sensitive spots of Akihiko’s himself to get what he wants.
Yamato wets his lips with a swipe of the tongue and brushes them on Akihiko’s ankle, kissing right where his sock ends.
He feels the boy’s leg tensing before he hears his gasp. “Endou-san! I thought you fell asleep.”
“I bet you did,” Yamato teases him. “I was just resting my eyes.”
“It surely didn’t sound like that, with how loud you were snoring,” Akihiko jabs right back, making him sneer.
Yamato stares at him with eyes filled with ill intentions, like a wolf looking at his next meal, and he knows Akihiko can tell by how his eyes slowly grow wider, cautious.
He brings his leg close to his face and Akihiko props himself on his elbows, not once daring to blink as Yamato brushes the tip of his nose against his skin.
“E-Endou-san.”
Yamato bites at his thin ankle and his leg tenses again. “Finish your book, Nirei-kun. I wanna go to bed.”
Yamato hooks a finger inside the cuff of Akihiko’s sock and pulls it down, exposing his heel that he touches with his mouth.
“Read out loud,” he says, peeping over at Akihiko’s face as his lips brush on the thick skin.
The poor thing had to hide behind the book. He’s shaking like a leaf. Yamato feels it under his palm, and hears it in his unsteady voice as he starts reading out loud.
He teases him by subtly tickling his foot with the tip of his nose, testing his ability to feign indifference. They’ve never done this before, but he can tell it’s doing something to Akihiko. He does a fair job of keeping his cool, he must admit, until Yamato gives a tentative lick to the heel, and Akihiko gasps out loud, retreating his leg instinctively.
Yamato knows his body well enough to know his heart must be rabbiting in his chest. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t like it.
“C’mon, keep reading,” Yamato encourages when Akihiko stops.
“You’re distracting me!” Akihiko jabs at his chest with his toes, and Yamato uses the opportunity to grab ahold of his ankle again.
He wonders if the boy is curious and wants to try again or if he’s just naive. Both options make Yamato’s dick twitch in his pants.
“I’ll behave,” he lies, not very interested in hiding it. “Keep reading.”
Akihiko squints at him and hums, then hides his face behind his book again to pick back up where he left.
Maybe Yamato can behave for a few minutes. Not because he’s merciful. On the contrary: it would just be boring to make his next move right away. There’s no fun in it if Akihiko expects it, so Yamato just goes back to petting his foot with the tip of his nose and his lips.
He caresses his calf, massaging his way up to his inner thigh. He stops at the end of his underwear, squeezing the tender flesh with no particular intentions, before it goes back to climbing up his body. His hand ghosts over his groin, slips under the hem of his t-shirt and then stops again, right where the curve of his tummy is. He likes it here. It’s warm and he can feel him breathing.
Akihiko seems to find a bit of steadiness in his voice, probably relaxed by the intimate touch.
He seems distracted enough by his hand, so Yamato pulls his tongue out and gives a significant lap at the thinner skin on the sole of his foot.
It tastes salty and mostly like skin, but the moan Akihiko lets out in the middle of his sentence makes it all so sweet.
His foot arches in his palm, sock stretching around the toes where they open. Yamato swears he feels a little bump where his wrist lies conveniently on Akihiko’s groin.
Akihiko shamefully pretends the sound didn’t just come out of his mouth and goes on reading, though his breath betrays him. Yamato pushes the sock up with his nose and opens his mouth around the softer flesh and gives it a mean suck.
Akihiko moans again, this time into the back of his hand. He keeps his eyes closed, face getting so red and bright under his freckles it makes Yamato want to eat him alive… and eat him out.
The book slips on the floor with a heavy thud.
Akihiko sits up and rubs his flushed face in the palm of his hands for a long second, like he’s trying to recover from the embarrassment and get ahold of himself.
Yamato gives him a minute and takes his own time studying him.
A thunder in the distance breaks the silence, just as Akihiko parts his fingers to stare at him. He reminds him of The Fallen Angel, somehow, and suddenly Akihiko resembling a painting from Romanticism starts making sense.
He folds his arms over his chest and looks at Yamato with a new glint in his eyes that gives him an electrifying thrill.
“Get up,” he says, and it sounds a lot like an order.
And who is Yamato to mess with his plan?
“Come here,” Akihiko says as soon as Yamato is standing, and he complies. Then Akihiko reaches out to him with his arms, and Yamato bends down to pick him up. “Let’s go to bed.”
Yamato can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as the boy wraps his legs around his hips. He has to pull his tail just once more. “Keeping your feet clean for me?”
Akihiko squeezes his head tight against his chest, probably in a goofy attempt to strangle him, and Yamato has to make his way to the bedroom blindly. “Stop teasing! It’s just that my knees are too weak right now to walk.”
“Are they, now? They seem to be squeezing me just fine.”
“Do you want to sleep alone on the couch that bad tonight, Endou-san?”
Yamato knows it’s just an empty threat, but the idea makes him sweat cold anyway.
“No sir,” he says, trapping him on the bed underneath him, just in case.
Akihiko squeezes him tighter between his legs, and the pressure is somehow relieving and everything he needs.
“That’s what I thought.”