[ Even wounded creatures make less of a fuss than Ainosuke does right now.
Perhaps Ainosuke is a wounded creature. If he could think at all, he wouldn't be able to conjure an argument to the contrary. He could even look the part, splayed and twisting over Tadashi's lap like this, hips stuttering as he struggles against the urge to impale himself on this cock he's ached for since he had it last, crying out enraptured agony to the chandelier above them. Is it so different from a doe in the crosshair, a fox amid the hunt? Gasping through shuddering lips, clawing at the back of Tadashi's neck, surrendering himself to oblivion? Is this salvation or damnation he feels?
His head swims, and Ainosuke swears he's falling, like tipping the cliff's edge. A rush, a plunge; and as ever, Tadashi is there to catch him. He feels powerless, he feels limitless. He feels so much, and he's forgotten which way is up, where Tadashi begins and where Ainosuke ends. They're tied, laced, woven. They're one, again, finally.
Stay. Ainosuke whispers through his tears, over and over and over. Through the desperate shower of kisses down Tadashi's throat, through the fangs pressing welts along his jaw, Ainosuke hisses the same hymn: Stay. Tadashi, stay. Please, stay.
Why couldn't these words come, all those years ago? Why couldn't Ainosuke find them then? Why couldn't Tadashi see the quiet plea behind his eyes when Ainosuke was too proud to beg? Why did Ainosuke damn them to that loneliness? Why is he terrified under Tadashi's touch now?
Terrified. More vulnerability, and Ainosuke rebels against it, down to his core. His fingers curl hard into Tadashi's hair, snap his head back to lock their gaze again. To make him look, make him see, make him swear. ]
Tell me.
[ Ainosuke's jaw is tight, voice tighter, weak and needy despite the hard edge of the demand. His stomach shakes when he shifts his hips, body clenched tight around Tadashi's cock as he drags himself to the head and then slams himself back down. ]
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Perhaps Ainosuke is a wounded creature. If he could think at all, he wouldn't be able to conjure an argument to the contrary. He could even look the part, splayed and twisting over Tadashi's lap like this, hips stuttering as he struggles against the urge to impale himself on this cock he's ached for since he had it last, crying out enraptured agony to the chandelier above them. Is it so different from a doe in the crosshair, a fox amid the hunt? Gasping through shuddering lips, clawing at the back of Tadashi's neck, surrendering himself to oblivion? Is this salvation or damnation he feels?
His head swims, and Ainosuke swears he's falling, like tipping the cliff's edge. A rush, a plunge; and as ever, Tadashi is there to catch him. He feels powerless, he feels limitless. He feels so much, and he's forgotten which way is up, where Tadashi begins and where Ainosuke ends. They're tied, laced, woven. They're one, again, finally.
Stay. Ainosuke whispers through his tears, over and over and over. Through the desperate shower of kisses down Tadashi's throat, through the fangs pressing welts along his jaw, Ainosuke hisses the same hymn: Stay. Tadashi, stay. Please, stay.
Why couldn't these words come, all those years ago? Why couldn't Ainosuke find them then? Why couldn't Tadashi see the quiet plea behind his eyes when Ainosuke was too proud to beg? Why did Ainosuke damn them to that loneliness? Why is he terrified under Tadashi's touch now?
Terrified. More vulnerability, and Ainosuke rebels against it, down to his core. His fingers curl hard into Tadashi's hair, snap his head back to lock their gaze again. To make him look, make him see, make him swear. ]
Tell me.
[ Ainosuke's jaw is tight, voice tighter, weak and needy despite the hard edge of the demand. His stomach shakes when he shifts his hips, body clenched tight around Tadashi's cock as he drags himself to the head and then slams himself back down. ]
Promise me. Stay.