[ Every inch, Tadashi asks, and Ainosuke is loathe to deny him a single thing. He's denied too much already, after all; spent so many wasted years openly torturing Tadashi for his transgressions, and they both deserve an entire lifetime of respite after that. Specifically, Tadashi deserves an eternity of sweet, as thoroughly and as often as he wants it. It's the least Ainosuke can do, to make up for their lost time.

In service to that, Ainosuke's legs slide up behind Tadashi, bracing his back against strong thighs as Ainosuke anchors his own heels into the mattress. It's leverage, as with all things in their lives. It gives Ainosuke the space to languidly ease his cock free, a slow drag against Tadashi's walls, down nearly to the head before he drives hard back inside again. Again, lazy on the pull and then sharp on the push, angled to assault that knot of nerves within Tadashi on every attack.

There's no pace to it yet, no rhythm. At times, Ainosuke withdraws and then holds, gripping Tadashi's hip with one hand as a silent warning to keep still. And this too is torture, denying them both the invasion for breathless second upon agonizing second, before plunging back in without warning. And all the while, he's entranced by Tadashi's face, enchanted by the shapes it takes when he's full, comparing it against his nigh-desperation when Ainosuke's cock retreats. Beautiful. Achingly, wantonly gorgeous. ]

Tadashi. [ Ainosuke's tone is firm, if a little breathless, squeezing Tadashi's hand as his hips clap flush to Tadashi's ass again. ] Keep your eyes on me. You radiant, infuriating creature. I want to see every moment that you're coming apart.