[ tadashi has always prided himself on being able to anticipate ainosuke's needs and to meet his often incredibly challenging demands, no matter the nature of it. it's what he has sworn himself to do, but in his unwavering devotion to ainosuke's goals and successes, he's missed out on one awfully crucial, important thing: that what shindo ainosuke really, truly wants has been under his nose all along.
what they had once, what they had lost, what they could never quite have in its purest form again; and it had been langa who taught it to ainosuke. tadashi would pay with his entire life for choosing not to stand up to ainosuke's father, and he will bear the burden of ainosuke's distaste and loathing, but what he's missed are the underlying signs of ainosuke's desire for more, couched in desperate, over-the-top overtures and twisted bids for attention. his attention, beyond the confines of their daily work schedules and ainosuke's professional growth.
after all, tadashi had been the one to teach him how to skate, the serpent according adam (not eve), the fruit from the tree of knowledge, and here they are.
here they are, with adam having to deal with another loss, a reminder that not even the brightest star in the sky is infallible. after all, stars collapse all the time. this time, like the others, tadashi will be here to pick up the pieces and lovingly put him back together again.
tadashi faithfully takes him home, his beloved, treasured, capricious and damaged master. he has a better understanding of him now -- oddly enough, illuminated by reki and langa both, and this time, instead of immediately running the bath once they reach his room, tadashi closes the door behind him with a quiet click.
he understands a little more, now, and he wonders if it's still too late. ]
Mr Ainosuke. [ he says quietly, stepping close and gently brushing the small of his back, seeking permission in silence. ] If I may...?
Vulnerability is discouraged -- punished -- by the Shindos. Vulnerability is a weakness that is thoroughly stamped out, choked out, and stunted, along with any sense of frivolity or childlike wonder (even when Ainosuke was only a child). It was a thing to be hidden away behind closed doors and in dark corners, silently nursed and never acknowledged. A severe upbringing comes bundled with its own brand of triumphs and tribulations, but in Ainosuke's case, it only managed to create a monster.
Love has always always meant pain. Even loving Tadashi was anguish, sweet though it tasted for a short time. Tadashi was different, gentle; Ainosuke could openly carry that wounded part of himself, and Tadashi honored it without question or shame. His love was kind, soft, infinitely pleasurable, and Ainosuke should have known he was bound to pay a hellish price for something that felt like paradise.
Then Tadashi turned away, put a wall between them, and Ainosuke learned.
Still, Tadashi had a stranglehold on him, coiled tight and fangs buried deep, his venom coursing through Ainosuke and poisoning every piece. Ainosuke hated and loved it in equal measure. It was closer to the love he'd always known. Distant. Cold. Suffering. And at times, he was content to embrace that pain; other times -- seldom, but too often -- he ached for the pleasure of Tadashi's gentleness. Moments of weakness, when Ainosuke reached out, lashed out, clawed at Tadashi, utterly gripped by desperation to pull him back in. Chaos, violence, anything to break Tadashi's stoicism. To make him think, make him feel, to drag him back.
Ainosuke does not feel vulnerable. But he does feel weak -- so incredibly broken and needy and wrong, and moreso now than he's felt in so long -- and maybe that's exactly the same thing. But stranger still, this weakness feels safe. Bared and raw though he is, it doesn't feel dangerous to press these moments into Tadashi's waiting hands. And that--
It's impossible for Ainosuke to know what to do with that. But Tadashi's hand rests low on Ainosuke's spine, and his body instinctively remembers the cadence of that touch. Like an afterimage suddenly lighting up after a sunburst, like cooling embers fanned to life. One touch arrests thought, breath, heart, and Ainosuke's shoulders stiffen to a hard set.
There's more to this; Ainosuke knows there is, and the shiver it sends down his spine is as much terror as it is anticipation. He huffs, tamps down on a swell of incredulity, and pushes a hand through his hair. What he speaks is assent, but subdued, guarded: ]
the truth of the world is this: you don't always get what you want, in the way you want it, and nothing worth having comes without cost. for tadashi, the price cuts deep, scoring into the love he carries for ainosuke. in punishing ainosuke, aiichiro sent a message to them both: tadashi is icarus, flown too close to the blazing, glorious sun that is ainosuke and his warmth. and ainosuke, whose gentleness and kindness and loneliness is at odds with the loveless shindo manor, where violence and cruelty is couched as love, hemmed into ainosuke's very being.
tadashi can only watch, because love commands its very own sacrifice -- to protect ainosuke is to be removed from his presence forever, left without a chance to atone for his sins or to protect him as best as he can. ainosuke is a monster of their making, his and the shindos both, but what is a monster if not a lonely, loving creature bereft of the love he craves?
something else has broken between them throughout the course of this evening (and the past few days), something that has kept them locked together in an impossible impasse. in the pieces of it is ainosuke at his weakest, broken and needy and wounded, and tadashi will do anything to put him back together properly, to show that weakness is not wrong, that he will honour him without question or shame. he will nurse the flame of that nascent warmth, a silent partner instead of the serpent coiled lovingly around his heart.
he feels that shiver down his spine, and tadashi gently loosens the bones that keep the outfit closed. one by one, he undoes the catches, up until he's done, and he reverently, delicately sets it aside. undressing his beloved master, his ainosuke is a ritual in itself, and his hands are impossibly gentle, sliding up underneath the smooth material, over heated, tense skin and coiled muscles. he peels it off slow, easing past those broad shoulders, and it is tadashi's lips that press over the bruises that were once there, along the line between neck and shoulder.
he steps closer, bold. his sins are incalculable, but ainosuke is the only one who can give him absolution. ]
Let me help your body remember me. Let me have tonight with you.
[ please. tadashi misses him so very, very much that he aches with it. ]
[ There's a vindictive part of Ainosuke that wants to pull away from this. To prolong Tadashi's suffering, force him into and through that same brand of agony Ainosuke's endured for years. But a more reasonable part realizes that raising his hackles against this is pointless; that Tadashi must be intimately acquainted with the pain of this chasm between them, and that these pieces wouldn't have fallen into place in any other way.
Maybe it was all inevitable. Maybe they had to walk through fire from there to here. Maybe they wouldn't fully appreciate this moment -- the first tenuous threads to bridge the maw of loneliness -- if things happened differently between them.
Either way, Tadashi's touch consumes him. He's never understood the hold Tadashi has over him; golden, sliding like light against his bare skin, warming all the frigid reaches and melting the ice away. Even Ainosuke's flesh betrays him, raising to goosebumps breath Tadashi's fingertips, wracking him to shivers beneath Tadashi's lips. Everything he's missed, everything he's ached for so keenly. Fabric falls away under Tadashi's hands like a shed carapace, his breath washes hot over Ainosuke's neck, and for the first time in what feels like an eon, Ainosuke comes undone.
The costume is hanging low on Ainosuke's hips when he turns, and his grip twists into Tadashi's shirt at either side of his waist. There's so much behind his eyes right now, and Ainosuke's too overwhelmed to disguise it. To Tadashi, it must be plain to read; hurt and need and terror and a deeply aching love, all tangled behind weeping scarlet wounds. ]
If you leave me again-- [ Ainosuke's whisper is practically a growl. ]
Tadashi...
[ Please, please never leave me again. He wants to say it. He nearly does, but the words are all flooded out, muddled to silence, like struggling to speak around a mouth full of blood. ]
[ tadashi says quietly, firmly, two syllables cutting through the chaos of ainosuke's roiling emotions. in the wake of the breakdown, he knows, too, that ainosuke has never been more vulnerable, the sea of pain and anger and turmoil and the impossible longing, hurting and raw across the chasm they have made for themselves.
tadashi aches for him, his heart clenching at the sight of ainosuke like he's never seen before, in the limited moonlight, crimson eyes blazing in the dark. ainosuke has suffered for years, hurting and lashing out, and tadashi has taken everything that he has to dole out. he looks up into that handsome, pale face, reminded of what remains after a storm, and he reaches to cup his cheek.
the chips have fallen where they ought, and tadashi has been given leave to finally bridge the distance. so bridge he does, cupping ainosuke's face with unyielding tenderness, bolstered by his unwavering, unrelenting love for him, no matter the weight of his transgressions. tadashi has sinned against him, but his desire for redemption is part of what brought them here, securing ainosuke in his loneliness.
his other hand smoothes up to splay possessively over the span of his back. he coils around ainosuke again, his lips pressing against the side of his mouth. ainosuke is heartbreakingly beautiful when he falls apart, but tadashi will put him back together again. ]
I will never leave you, I promise.
[ ainosuke is the light of his life, the one thing that tadashi finds himself orbiting around, for better or worse. he doesn't look away when they're practically nose to nose, and it is now or never for tadashi, to bridge that gap anew and to fill the emptiness with everything he has ever wanted to tell him. he has left his own feelings buried for too long, his love for ainosuke hidden underneath guilt and penance. guilt, it seems, is a paralyser that has dammed them both.
tadashi's next words are just as raw, just as true. in the mire of muddled words and the fierce desperation of long-buried sentiment, tadashi will provide clarity. ]
[ The breath that leaves Ainosuke is closer to a sob than a sigh; a hurried rush of air, tremulous against Tadashi's waiting lips. I love you. I never stopped. There's no ambiguity there; nothing to misinterpret, nothing left to chance. Nothing to question or argue.
There's so much that comes with those words. Love has never been unconditional for Ainosuke; it has always hinged upon an expectation, like some alchemical exchange. Ainosuke's skin still carries the reminders of it, and his arms faintly ache with Tadashi's confession. For a moment, Ainosuke hates it. He hates that he's like this, he hates everything that has made him this way. In another life, in another time, he could hear these words without fighting the urge to flinch. Why can't he have that now? Why can't he just keep and love Tadashi without this subtle undercurrent of horror?
Ainosuke's grip tightens on Tadashi's shirt, clawing him infinitesimally closer, even through a short and violent shake of his head. ]
You don't know what that means.
[ To love Ainosuke -- really and truly love him -- is to embrace all these shattered parts, and chance the thousand bone-deep cuts along the way. He'll leave Tadashi in ribbons like this, he'll tear him to pieces. And worse still, Ainosuke wants to do just that. He wants Tadashi to hold him despite his razor blade touch, wants Tadashi to kiss him through his knife-sharp tongue. He wants Tadashi to bleed for him, as Ainosuke's heart has bled for Tadashi since the very beginning. And he wants it so badly, he's finally -- at long last -- crying for it.
The tears are hot and wild. They spill down Ainosuke's face through a silent shudder and a hitched gasp, and though Ainosuke's grip on Tadashi doesn't loosen, he slowly sinks to his knees. It feels like begging, like silent supplication, with his forehead pressed to Tadashi's hip. He can't ask for it. He doesn't have the words. Love is a foreign tongue that hurts to speak, but perhaps this is enough.
Tadashi's always understood what Ainosuke needs; surely he can interpret this plea as well.
Need me. Love me. Show me love. And never, ever stop. ]
[ his confession must feel like a slap in the face, or the sting of a switch on open, trembling palms, the painful welts sealing a solid declaration of love, that it must not be love if there is no pain. and pain is all that ainosuke has known all his life, his own needs subordinate to the vanity of the shindo family, that he is only as good as what his aunts can boast about while his father rots in his grave.
tadashi's heart breaks when he hears that sob, the unwelcome reminder that ainosuke has willingly swallowed the lies of those who falsely pledged to love him, unable to face the horror of their selfishness and unfettered desires, with him serving only as a tool for progress. tadashi has watched it all unfold, forced to keep his silence or forever be torn from his beloved's side, but here and now is a shining moment to mend the tattered pieces of his psyche, to show, as he never could, what it means to be loved.
he aches to love ainosuke, to coil around him so tightly that all ainosuke can do is breathe him in. it is a bold thought, terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and he feels the shake of those shoulders, the hot, wet sting of his tears as ainosuke sinks to his knees and cries, finally spilling what langa has broken open. tadashi, who can never bear to see him alone in his hurt, finally has a chance to make things right, to get on his knees together with him, pressing his lips to those tears, kissing them away.
his hand comes to curl in that thick, unruly hair, cradling the back of his head to him. he knows his master, he knows the words that catch in his throat, thick like the blood in his moth. he doesn't have to ask, he doesn't have to beg -- tadashi will happily rend himself to pieces on the knife-sharp edges of ainosuke's whims; he will ache for the way ainosuke tears into him and leaves him bleeding. ainosuke loves him like a forest fire, grand and uncontrolled and wild and just as beautiful, and he grips his hair just a little tighter, forcing him to look at him.
oh, his lovely, lovely ainosuke. tadashi has been silent for far too long, suppressing his own heart, his own desires -- tonight, he can bear his own reticence no longer. ]
I know exactly what it means to love you.
[ ainosuke, adam, with all of his cruelty and his violence, his obsessions and his desperation, the heart that never stopped bleeding for his sake. another kiss, another. tadashi lovingly tastes the salt of ainosuke's tears, claiming them for himself. tadashi's love is tender but unyielding, painless but overwhelming, different. here. he has always been here, before adam, before eden. after all, he helped create them both.
his other hand cups ainosuke's face now, lips barely inches from his as he meets his eyes again. don't run away from him, ainosuke, not this time. tadashi, quietly determined, lets his own passion show, green eyes dark and intent. ]
I remain yours to do with as you wish. [ he leans in deeper, before finally pressing the softest of kisses to his mouth, sealing a promise. ] Let me give you what you need.
[ What Ainosuke needs -- and it takes a moment for this realization to truly sink in -- is a complete mystery even to himself. He's subsisted for so long on dogmatic acceptance; that he must be what his family expects him to be, that his own true self must be hidden away behind late nights and ornate masks, that his own desires must be thoroughly quelled, and that any deviation will be punished. Tadashi offers an opposing force, as unfamiliar and tenuous as the kisses that ghost over Ainosuke's face; a love that embraces the whole of Ainosuke, sweet and bitter, broken and whole, with neither demand nor expectation. Tadashi offers himself. It's all Ainosuke has ever wanted, and he's lost for what to do with it.
How should he handle something like this? How is he meant to hold it? Something that feels as if it will fall to dust in his hands, slip through his fingers, and scatter to the wind? How could he possibly carry these two hearts that feel so delicate?
But this feels like the surest place to start. Despite the torrent of doubt, Tadashi's lips feel more like home than these cold manor walls ever have. Ainosuke's hands finally abandon their grip on Tadashi's shirt, and scramble up to sink through his hair instead. They sink in, grip tight, his jaw a hard set as pulls Tadashi eye level, forces their gaze to meet. Crimson to verdant, raging storm to deadly calm, and god--
How did Ainosuke forget this? How beautiful Tadashi's eyes are? The depth he's always found behind them? How they move him, pull him, beckon and call to him?
They turn him traitor so quickly. The walls fall all at once, collapse beneath the weight of memory and the promise of more. Ainosuke forces their lips together like rebellion, like revolution, like inferno; razing all his foundations under the demanding slide of his tongue, tearing up the roots beneath a desperate pull of teeth. He wants this, wants Tadashi, wants him so much -- too much -- and all his defenses are failing him.
So he'll consume Tadashi. He'll eat the very heart out of him. He'll be devoured in kind, and he'll smile through the desecration. And they'll lay new roots, to nurture whatever blooms in the ruin. ]
Touch me. [ Ainosuke practically sobs, staggered gasps between the crush of their lips. ] Tadashi, touch me. Kiss me. Love me. I need you.
[ what adam needs is something tadashi sees even more clearly than the man himself. but then again, it's not a surprise -- ainosuke has fought to survive, to exist and live on his own, underneath the thumb of his aunts and the family name. tadashi still remembers the scars on his forearms, the way ainosukes hides tears, how he has grown into a twisted version of himself, desperate to believe that what they've done to him is love.
it still makes him sick, and the memory of it twists in tadashi's gut as he feels ainosuk's uncertainty, grappling with the different versions of love he presented to him. but tadashi's heart is irrevocably his; it has been his the moment tadashi spotted the young boy peeking over the hedge at him. he feels the roughness of that tuck, the aching pain in his scalp, but he knows that ainosuke's is only operating on what he knows.
there's a storm that roars in the sea of his gaze, but tadashi is the harbour that he will return to, his own calm reflected in the depths of his eyes, and he parts his mouth to kiss him back with a low, approving moan, telegraphing his intent, his need for him in turn. tadashi needs him like a drowning man needs air, and as ainosuke's own defenses fail, tadashi wastes no time flooding his senses, filling his helplessness with his strength, his own passion.
he offers his own heart up in sacrifice but he takes ainosuke's, too, coiling around his heart and squeezing. his hands move now, span down over the muscles of his chest, his abs, down and down to push the rest of his costume off him. he licks into his mouth fiercely, firmly claiming his mouth for another kiss, another, another, pushing the costume down to his thighs.
he's pushing him back onto the carpet, intent on getting the last of that outfit off of him, his hands possessive, roaming, breaking the kiss only to press heated ones down his neck, over his collarbone. he moves above him, caging him down with his own limbs. ]
I need you, Ainosuke-sama. [ he breathes, raw and fierce, finally allowing himself his own agency. they are laying foundations anew, stretching across the ruins of what they were, and tadashi knows it's now or never. he will take his master's bleeding heart inside of his own and tend it. his free hand slips between his legs now, palming his balls, thumbing up the thick root of his cock to reacquaint himself with him. then, again, because he needs to hear it, because tadashi wants to push the memory of his aunts' words out of ainosuke's mind, little by little. after all, serpents are territorial creatures. ] I love you.
[ The pleasure floods Ainosuke along with Tadashi's words, his quiet I love yous; so far and away from the pain Ainosuke has always associated with them. It leaves a sharp sting of cognitive dissonance in its wake, reality crashing hard against the fantasy the Shindos have constructed. Wasn't it like this the first time around, too? Back before all the hurt between them, hadn't Tadashi assaulted him with pleasure and soft affections, uprooted everything Ainosuke believed about love?
Ainosuke can't help noticing -- for what must be the millionth time -- how utterly, perfectly matched they are. To Ainosuke, love had always been a rose; vanity on the surface and barbs beneath. But Tadashi showed him a gentle love, razed the roses and left his soft chrysanthemums blooming in their stead. And for his own part, Ainosuke has never known exactly how to rectify the two, how to tend something delicate when he only knew pain; Tadashi abandoned him before he ever truly learned how.
And now here they are again, and Ainosuke's faced with the realization that he never idealized anything about their time together. Nothing rose-colored, nothing misremembered. Tadashi's touch is every bit as arresting now as it had been then, pulling Ainosuke apart with every kiss, pushing fire through his veins with each shift of his hands. ]
I love you. [ Ainosuke breathes. ] I love you, Tadashi. I've always...
[ It's like a cage beneath Tadashi, bracketed by his limbs; trapped, and yet exactly where Ainosuke wants to be. It doesn't stop his hands from wandering, intent to lose themselves, slipping beneath Tadashi's shirt to spread over the his back. Even touching him is like electric, a rush straight from his fingertips to the aching hardness in Tadashi's grasp, and--
Ainosuke needs more of it. More skin. He shoves Tadashi back just enough to start peeling him bare; jacket first, shirt next, making such a quick and efficient disposal of Tadashi's clothing. He's working his way through the zipper of Tadashi's pants before he speaks again: ]
Off. Off.
[ It's the best he can manage for a demand -- an order -- through the desperate crush of his lips to Tadashi's temple, his cheek, his jaw; over and over, wherever he can reach. ]
[ here they are again, and ainosuke is a revelation, his confession breathtaking all in itself -- and tadashi could have kicked himself for it as it all falls into place, the pieces that were scattered when tadashi chose silence and turned away from ainosuke, a necessary sacrifice if only to be by his side, loathed and hated.
ainosuke has always loved him, and the truth of it makes him pause, looking up to see if it's true, to search his gaze for confirmation, that he has always loved him, that even through that well-deserved spite and anger, he --
-- his breath catches, and tadashi lets go of him only to make quick work of his jacket, shirt, pants, helping him with it and kicking the rest off, craving to feel his skin against his all over again. this time, he thinks, this time it's different, this encounter charged not with anger and rage but desperation and passion, vulnerability threaded in every movement.
he tosses the last article of his clothing aside with a low groan and cups his face to connect with his lips in a proper kiss, unable to keep a soft noise of heartache, of wonder, of painful, wonderful longing. he's leaning into his touch, and when he breaks the kiss, his hands smooth down the solid length of his body, memorising him for himself all over again.
ainosuke is lovely, charged like a livewire underneath him, and so rarely is tadashi allowed to touch him that he gluts on it, memorising every inch of him anew. he bites gently, tasting him, giving in to everything that the younger man seeks from him. here it is now, the pleasure rediscovered, and he breaks the kiss to trail hungry lips down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, right over his heart. ]
I've missed you. [ he murmurs, low and quiet, fingers rubbing over the divot of his hipbones, possessive and soothing in equal measure. it's bold, the words that he's put between them, but he has, and his kisses betray his longing. he will show him what love is, all over again. he will make his body remember just what it really is, his hands coming to part his thighs firmly, thumbing over the sensitive inside of them as he savours everything that ainosuke is willing to give to him. ] Let me remind you --
[ So much has changed since they were last like this together, and yet there's so much familiarity left between them. Ainosuke's body is different -- heavily muscled and broad planed -- but it responds to Tadashi's touch just the same, all shivers and a pleading moan. His eyes are heavier, but they still spark to fixation when they meet Tadashi's gaze, and beckon him on with with a hungry leer. And his lips are more desperate, more demanding for every taste they steal from Tadashi, despite the same sharp bite behind them.
But Tadashi? He's also different, and nothing could have prepared Ainosuke for that realization. With his clothing gone, Ainosuke can appreciate it fully, and Tadashi's body holds him rapt. Where did this come from? Where was he hiding it? He's like a masterpiece chiseled from marble, and Ainosuke's been given leave to touch, to revere, to defile. And he does; his hands are greedy, tracing the sharp cuts of his abs, the softer stretch of his pecs, grasping softly at the rise in his shoulders, and God help him, Ainosuke finally -- fully and truly -- knows madness. He wants to tear Tadashi apart piece by piece, devour him whole, consume his heart and his soul and his love, and carry him forever within. Perhaps Tadashi does too.
They are, after all, ravenous; so much as to trap them on the floor, tangled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed. Tadashi is slipping away from him, down, and Ainosuke can't manage more than to sink a hand through his hair. He could lose himself in this. In the softness of Tadashi's hair, in the gentle push between his legs. Ainosuke's thighs spread eagerly at Tadashi's insistence, welcoming him between, even through a silent plea in Ainosuke's eyes. He wants more; more touch, more kisses, more and more until he drowns in Tadashi and floats away with him together.
And still, there's that instinct; to either flinch away or to lash out. Ainosuke resists it so valiantly, even when he can see it so clearly in his mind. How can this truly be love? How can Tadashi breathe his I love yous without delivering a blow in its wake? How can Ainosuke claim to love him in kind, absent the agony? How can he reconcile one without the other? ]
Show me. [ Ainosuke whispers, and his fingers curl tight into Tadashi's hair. ] Remind me. I want you.
[ they should get to the bed to do this, tadashi knows, but every shred of good sense has flown out the window in the wake of ainosuke's greedy permission, the matching ravenous nature of ainosuke's desire. it's like the floodgates have opened after years of being banished to the scorching desert. parched of ainosuke's favour and love, tadashi has only sought to survive and exist by his side, never allowing himself to want more.
after all, it is tadashi that had turned away first, putting up the wall between them that ainosuke had kept up out of spite and betrayal and hurt and pain, crumbling in places as the years wore on.
and now, here, this permission is as invigorating as it is intoxicating, as is the way ainosuke opens up to him now, those gorgeous crimson red eyes burning for him. tadashi shares the same madness, the burning, scorching fever of desire that makes him press his mouth to the inside of his thigh, to kiss and lick and gently nip and worship. he doesn't miss how his beloved master opens up so eagerly to him, a veritable feast for the taking.
so take he does, committing every precious inch of him to memory anew -- the last time they had done this was a lifetime ago, and he can't help the thudding of his heart as he nuzzles his cheek against the bob of his long, thick cock, massive when jutting proudly between firmly muscled thighs. he makes his way down, down, nosing against the softness of his plump, full sac, before pressing his tongue to the patch of skin underneath. ainosuke is so very beautiful in this light, magnificent and willing and no longer the young man once tangled in him. he smells like clean musk and light sweat, so very much like him that tadashi finds himself burning for him, relishing those fingers in his hair while he licks his own and seeks him out, a single finger pressing between both those firm cheeks to trace a circle around the tight ring of his hole, gently teasing.
of course, tadashi wastes no time in sealing his intent, his love and adoration on every inch of him. watch now, darling, as tadashi proves that love doesn't come with violence or pain, and all there is is tenderness and affection, bright and unrelenting in deep green eyes. he keeps ainosuke's cock pinned against his lower abdomen, his soft lips taking his balls into his mouth, laving and licking shamelessly, a single saliva-slick finger teasing into his entrance at the same time. he finally gets to do what he's long yearned to do, reclaiming what has been his all along. ainosuke's confession still rings in his ears, making him giddy, but now, first, he wants to please him and make him come, make him understand just how much he's loved.
they've lost so much time, tadashi won't allow him to waste a minute more. ]
[ Ainosuke feels so much; wants so much. It's been a slow eternity since he's been permitted either. Tadashi's touch is absolute luxury, and Ainosuke swears it's turning his body to gold. It's all there each time Ainosuke closes his eyes, precious gems blooming across his skin like petals beneath Tadashi's fingers. He could make Ainosuke priceless like this; completely spoil him for anyone else, unattainable for those destitute of the fortune behind Tadashi's lips and the wealth of his hot, plying tongue.
There's a touch of madness to Ainosuke already. He can feel it in the way his thighs shake on either side of Tadashi's head, and god that's right-- Ainosuke remembers now. Obscene, the way Tadashi welcomes -- or, perhaps demands -- Ainosuke's balls in his mouth; profane, how Tadashi's already invaded his body with a single digit. And licentious, how it feels as if they've simply picked back up where they left off, and Ainosuke is lost already in his own notions of impropriety. The hand in Tadashi's hair tightens, smoothes, then tightens again, as if it can't decide between violence and decadence.
Tadashi will stay like this, with Ainosuke, for all time. Ainosuke will make sure of it. He'll trap Tadashi inside this gilded cage with him, and even if they never truly know freedom, at least they'll be chained eternally to each other.
Tadashi, Tadashi... A soft hymnal of moans, Ainosuke's voice deep and thick with lust, practically singing Tadashi's name. His lips are suddenly so loose, and his praise so liberal: ]
More, Tadashi... My love, my life, my Tadashi. Give me more...
[ tadashi's attentions are penance, worship, a bold adoration of him in every stroke, every kiss. ainosuke writhes and claws at him so sweetly that tadashi, too, shares in his madness, in the obscene wonder of his love. ainosuke is priceless, is everything that he has ever wanted all of his life, and he can almost taste his master's indecision, his ainosuke's passion and wonder.
here they are, crossing every imaginable line possible, drawing together like they have before, as if the years between them are inconsequential. and perhaps they are, especially when tadashi already knows every inch of his body so intimately. he explores him anew, delighted when he hears his throaty purr for more -- goodness, how it sends him spiraling, how ainosuke's pleasure is his own, how he adores him to no end, that he draws out of him and gently coaxes him onto his hands and knees. ]
I will, I promise.
[ he murmurs, gently trying to coax him over and giving him space. how his words ring so sweetly in his ears; my love, my life, my tadashi. how tadashi would die for him a hundred thousand times over, if only to be with him just like this. he will gladly be twined in a gilded cage with him, chained to his beloved, his sun and stars.
he wants to make ainosuke sing just like this, every single time. ]
Hands and knees, Ainosuke-sama. [ he's more aggressive now, urging him on. he's hungry for him, and he won't be denied. ] Let me give you everything you need.
[ Hands and knees, Tadashi demands, and Ainosuke feels some compulsion to argue. Not like that, not where he can't see Tadashi. The softness of youth has melted away from Tadashi's face, and the span of years has made Ainosuke hungry. He wants to see Tadashi as he is now, to memorize what this face looks like all screwed up in agonized bliss, to savor some hint of emotion -- finally -- behind the verdant numb of his eyes.
But in the end, there's no argument. Ainosuke's driven by something beyond himself, some desperate need to keep Tadashi close -- closer -- to take him inside. To consume him physically, metaphorically, any way he can, and by any means. Ainosuke thought he was past this, above this; untouchable, unshakeable. And now Tadashi's touching him, shaking him, dragging out a starving creature that Ainosuke left to die long ago, and all Ainosuke wants is more.
Under Tadashi's insistence, Ainosuke shifts, turns, and immediately presses himself up against Tadashi. It brings Ainosuke's back to Tadashi's chest, and a subtle tilt of his hips forces Tadashi's cock between the warm cleft of his ass, brushes the most maddening friction against Ainosuke's waiting hole. It begs a quiet whine, and Ainosuke reaches over his shoulder to hook a hand behind Tadashi's neck; holds him close enough that Ainosuke can tip his head back to catch Tadashi's earlobe with his teeth, and pant breathless pleas against his throat. ]
[ tadashi's words are choked when he feels the other man so cheekily, wonderfully tuck his cock between those firm, soft asscheeks. he's unable to bite back a soft moan before he grips his hip to keep him in place, pre-cum on the plump tip of his cock smearing over soft, smooth skin. he will wreck him tonight, take him apart and build him back again so that ainosuke will forever be marked by tadashi's kisses and touches, the shape of him buried deep inside of his tight, tight hole.
he feels raw, fierce, his heart pounding with every plea from those sugar-sweet lips. he captures his mouth then, passionate and searing, before he pulls away to spit onto his hand, letting it slide down to grip ainosuke's cock tight, stroking him from root to tip. he fucks him slow, snug between his thighs to rub up against his balls. ]
Come for me first. I need to get your tight little hole ready.
[ There's a pained longing in the tenor of Ainosuke's moan. Tadashi's touch, the hand tight and slick around Ainosuke's cock, is searing. It strikes him hard, a tremble in his stomach that shakes the rest of his body in kind, and every stroke pulls him tighter, higher, dizzying. The pleasure of it melts him molten, has him falling back in hard twists and sensuous writhes against Tadashi's chest, gripping at the back of his neck to keep them trapped together, close, god.
But then his fingers shift, tremble, push up the side of Tadashi's neck and sink into his hair. And in the softness he finds there, he remembers more. Their first-- It was in the garden, tangled together just like this. Night fallen, in an alcove of rose bushes, in the cradle of Tadashi's arms, lips and breath hot on Ainosuke's shoulder, Tadashi's hands beneath his shirt and between his legs. Hadn't they been watching the stars? The Leonids, wasn't it? Then honeyed words, and plush kisses, and heat, heat, heat, burning away all the doubt and the shame, turning their repression to ash, and--
Ainosuke's eyes fly wide when it hits, his cries fill the room, a wounded mantra of Tadashi's name. He doesn't know when his free hand found Tadashi's wrist, but he grips it tight, a ballast to steady him through each paralyzing wave of his pleasure. He shudders through the thick, heavy spill of cum, over his chest and Tadashi's hand, and it's like finding paradise. Like coming home to Eden, finally theirs again, only in Tadashi's arms.
He also doesn't know when he started crying. But he's blinking back tears when he collapses against Tadashi, suddenly bereft every ounce of tension. ]
Our first was like that. [ Ainosuke whispers, breathless, and smoothes his fingers over Tadashi's hair. ] In the roses, Tadashi. Just like that. Do you remember?
[ tadashi responds, low and husky and weighted with love, with adoration. this is special, between them -- the feeling of ainosuke coming into his hand, the sudden tension that slips away so sweetly, ainosuke clinging to him like he had that fateful night, when tadashi had given all of his heart and soul to him. they were teens, then, in love and terrified and exhilarated, making love to each other amongst the intoxicating scent of blooming roses.
he presses soft kisses against the side of his neck, encouraging him, crooning soft, barely audible words of praise as he slicks his fingers up with his cum, scooping more up to slide over his own cock. it's filthy and intimate, using ainosuke's cum as lube after such a long, long while, preparing to fuck him with just it.
but it is a reunion that has been long in coming, and he gently nips at his throat before he pushes two fingers inside of him, knowing how ainosuke likes it a little rough at first. he thinks of their youth, of how he'd lost himself in ainosuke's eyes, and he searches him out to kiss his tears away again before sealing his mouth to his.
his fingers move, slow and deliberate, and his heart skips a beat when he feels just how wonderfully snug and tight he is, the way his body clings to his slippery fingers when he fucks him, nice and slow. ]
You are the most beautiful creature I've ever set my eyes on. I wanted to keep you with me in that garden forever.
[ There's barely time for Ainosuke to recover. He's still shaking softly in the wake of his peak when Tadashi's fingers slip inside, and push him to breathless cries all over again. They brush that spot within him, and it forces Ainosuke's spine into a hard arch, too sensitive and too responsive to Tadashi's touch, even through the faint ache of his breach.
Some part of him wants to hold onto that pain, wants Tadashi to spare him the mercy and sink directly into him. Once upon a time, he'd craved it -- practically demanded it -- just like that. Because that edge of pain was always what felt comfortable, what he always understood love to be, even with Tadashi touching him so tenderly. And that's all he ever wanted from Tadashi. Love undying, love unconditional, because he'd always been the only spark in this neverending void, and Ainosuke would cling to his light in any way he could.
They were never meant to cause each other this pain. They were never meant to be alone. It wasn't agony or abuse that bound them, all those years ago. It was love, from the moment their eyes met. The kind of love that should have been held gently and tended with a delicate touch. The kind of love that should have bloomed in the sun and flourished in the soft warmth of summer.
Instead, they let it wither. They crushed its petals under careless hands and left it to dry. To die. Nothing but arid wastelands for their souls. And now here is Tadashi. An oasis, kissing life back into their love, flooding Ainosuke's entire being with his devotion. It's like suffocating. It's like breathing. Ainosuke can't decide which from one moment to the next.
He tilts his head to press kiss after kiss to Tadashi's cheek, to his jaw and his throat, then back up again. His thighs shake when he pushes himself hard against Tadashi's fingers, angles himself for more of that overwhelming rush, and breathes soft whimpers into Tadashi's ear when he finds it. ]
[ what a strong word, forever. no one knows the infinite potential of it, no one but tadashi, who looks into ainosuke's eyes and knows that that is what he wants to do, that being with him is everything that he desires in his life. tadashi's breath catches at every warm, soft kiss, the press of roses against his warm skin, and he reaches in deeper, the tips of his fingers brushing up against where he senses the sensitive knot of nerves are.
it's overwhelming, being allowed to do this together with ainosuke again after so long -- his longing and desire almost chokes him, as do the words he never thought he would hear. they were never meant to be apart from each other, even if tadashi's inaction and ainosuke's rage and grief poisoned their bond, it was always unbreakable, and tadashi's love for ainosuke has always been absolute.
it's clearer than ever now and here, when love blossoms between them with every kiss, every touch. he pulls his fingers away now, taking the chance to slick up his own very hard, every slippery cock, yearning to bury itself inside of that tight, familiar clutch of him again.
he can do little to resist that plaintive begging, and he angles himself now, with one hand curled around his hip, the other grasping the base of his dick to gently, slowly push inside of him. he shudders with every inch that stretches ainosuke's tight little hole, and looking down into where his body is taking him in almost drives him mad.
how is it possible to be even more in love with him, recklessly, wonderfully, wretchedly so? he's halfway in when he returns the kiss, nudging him so that he can kiss him squarely on the mouth as he forces him to keep still. he wants to feel this, all of this, until he bottoms out inside him, balls pressed up against the firm globes of his ass. god, he loves his ass so much. ]
[ 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. ]
[ tadashi gasps, breathless and panting, desperately arching forward to capture his mouth. his hand comes to grasp ainosuke's chin, tipping it upwards so he can steal kisses, counting them as he goes -- two, three, four. tadashi is splitting ainosuke open with every thrust, and he feels so impossibly good, so tight and so slick, like ainosuke's devouring him just like this.
he ruts up into him, baring his throat to ainosuke as he obeys the violence of that tug, reading the blessed desperation in those crimson eyes. ainosuke needs tadashi as much as he needs him, and in this, he's intoxicated. ]
I promise.
[ he breathes, leaning forward to kiss him again, again and again, grinding his hips into him when he bottoms out, ruthlessly pressing against the knot of sensitive nerves that tadashi had once known so intimately, so long ago. they have much to make up for, much to do together, and now is the best place to start. tadashi coaxes him on with a low moan, urging him onwards with every shallow thrust, so deep inside of him. ]
[ Ainosuke has often thought that, from the very first time Tadashi touched him, he made Ainosuke's body strange. He was always without defense, without recourse, and Tadashi's hands twisted him to ruin like they were made to destroy him. His skin felt barren, bereft Tadashi's flesh against it. His body felt hollow, without Tadashi within it. He could try to fill that space with whomever he wished, and they never completed him -- never came close -- because all of him always belonged to Tadashi; all of him, always, was ravaged by this touch.
Even now, his desire is some visceral thing. Shapeless, formless, endless and hungry as the void within him, single-minded and ravenous. Tadashi bottoms out deep and quick, assaults him with the same ruthless precision Ainosuke loves him for. It overwhelms him without warning, floods him, shocks him through and through with each stroke and drowns him in a pleasure that feels endless. Crippling. Harrowing. But in the midst of this madness, Ainosuke can finally find the shape of his desire, firm out the blurry edges and make Tadashi out of its design at last.
Ainosuke's teeth catch hard on the side of Tadashi's neck, and when he obeys -- when he comes again, right on the edge of Tadashi's demand -- Ainosuke tastes blood. It can't be helped. It rips through him, shakes him body and soul, leaves decimation in its wake. Tadashi's throat is all that muffles the cry, and Ainosuke clings to him as he shivers apart. He swears it's all of him, every single piece, that spills out of him now, unravels him even as his body clenches tight and throbs around Tadashi's achingly perfect cock. ]
Come with me, Tadashi. [ Ainosuke gasps, weeps, pleads. ] Come in me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aftermath.
what they had once, what they had lost, what they could never quite have in its purest form again; and it had been langa who taught it to ainosuke. tadashi would pay with his entire life for choosing not to stand up to ainosuke's father, and he will bear the burden of ainosuke's distaste and loathing, but what he's missed are the underlying signs of ainosuke's desire for more, couched in desperate, over-the-top overtures and twisted bids for attention. his attention, beyond the confines of their daily work schedules and ainosuke's professional growth.
after all, tadashi had been the one to teach him how to skate, the serpent according adam (not eve), the fruit from the tree of knowledge, and here they are.
here they are, with adam having to deal with another loss, a reminder that not even the brightest star in the sky is infallible. after all, stars collapse all the time. this time, like the others, tadashi will be here to pick up the pieces and lovingly put him back together again.
tadashi faithfully takes him home, his beloved, treasured, capricious and damaged master. he has a better understanding of him now -- oddly enough, illuminated by reki and langa both, and this time, instead of immediately running the bath once they reach his room, tadashi closes the door behind him with a quiet click.
he understands a little more, now, and he wonders if it's still too late. ]
Mr Ainosuke. [ he says quietly, stepping close and gently brushing the small of his back, seeking permission in silence. ] If I may...?
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Vulnerability is discouraged -- punished -- by the Shindos. Vulnerability is a weakness that is thoroughly stamped out, choked out, and stunted, along with any sense of frivolity or childlike wonder (even when Ainosuke was only a child). It was a thing to be hidden away behind closed doors and in dark corners, silently nursed and never acknowledged. A severe upbringing comes bundled with its own brand of triumphs and tribulations, but in Ainosuke's case, it only managed to create a monster.
Love has always always meant pain. Even loving Tadashi was anguish, sweet though it tasted for a short time. Tadashi was different, gentle; Ainosuke could openly carry that wounded part of himself, and Tadashi honored it without question or shame. His love was kind, soft, infinitely pleasurable, and Ainosuke should have known he was bound to pay a hellish price for something that felt like paradise.
Then Tadashi turned away, put a wall between them, and Ainosuke learned.
Still, Tadashi had a stranglehold on him, coiled tight and fangs buried deep, his venom coursing through Ainosuke and poisoning every piece. Ainosuke hated and loved it in equal measure. It was closer to the love he'd always known. Distant. Cold. Suffering. And at times, he was content to embrace that pain; other times -- seldom, but too often -- he ached for the pleasure of Tadashi's gentleness. Moments of weakness, when Ainosuke reached out, lashed out, clawed at Tadashi, utterly gripped by desperation to pull him back in. Chaos, violence, anything to break Tadashi's stoicism. To make him think, make him feel, to drag him back.
Ainosuke does not feel vulnerable. But he does feel weak -- so incredibly broken and needy and wrong, and moreso now than he's felt in so long -- and maybe that's exactly the same thing. But stranger still, this weakness feels safe. Bared and raw though he is, it doesn't feel dangerous to press these moments into Tadashi's waiting hands. And that--
It's impossible for Ainosuke to know what to do with that. But Tadashi's hand rests low on Ainosuke's spine, and his body instinctively remembers the cadence of that touch. Like an afterimage suddenly lighting up after a sunburst, like cooling embers fanned to life. One touch arrests thought, breath, heart, and Ainosuke's shoulders stiffen to a hard set.
There's more to this; Ainosuke knows there is, and the shiver it sends down his spine is as much terror as it is anticipation. He huffs, tamps down on a swell of incredulity, and pushes a hand through his hair. What he speaks is assent, but subdued, guarded: ]
You may.
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the truth of the world is this: you don't always get what you want, in the way you want it, and nothing worth having comes without cost. for tadashi, the price cuts deep, scoring into the love he carries for ainosuke. in punishing ainosuke, aiichiro sent a message to them both: tadashi is icarus, flown too close to the blazing, glorious sun that is ainosuke and his warmth. and ainosuke, whose gentleness and kindness and loneliness is at odds with the loveless shindo manor, where violence and cruelty is couched as love, hemmed into ainosuke's very being.
tadashi can only watch, because love commands its very own sacrifice -- to protect ainosuke is to be removed from his presence forever, left without a chance to atone for his sins or to protect him as best as he can. ainosuke is a monster of their making, his and the shindos both, but what is a monster if not a lonely, loving creature bereft of the love he craves?
something else has broken between them throughout the course of this evening (and the past few days), something that has kept them locked together in an impossible impasse. in the pieces of it is ainosuke at his weakest, broken and needy and wounded, and tadashi will do anything to put him back together properly, to show that weakness is not wrong, that he will honour him without question or shame. he will nurse the flame of that nascent warmth, a silent partner instead of the serpent coiled lovingly around his heart.
he feels that shiver down his spine, and tadashi gently loosens the bones that keep the outfit closed. one by one, he undoes the catches, up until he's done, and he reverently, delicately sets it aside. undressing his beloved master, his ainosuke is a ritual in itself, and his hands are impossibly gentle, sliding up underneath the smooth material, over heated, tense skin and coiled muscles. he peels it off slow, easing past those broad shoulders, and it is tadashi's lips that press over the bruises that were once there, along the line between neck and shoulder.
he steps closer, bold. his sins are incalculable, but ainosuke is the only one who can give him absolution. ]
Let me help your body remember me. Let me have tonight with you.
[ please. tadashi misses him so very, very much that he aches with it. ]
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Maybe it was all inevitable. Maybe they had to walk through fire from there to here. Maybe they wouldn't fully appreciate this moment -- the first tenuous threads to bridge the maw of loneliness -- if things happened differently between them.
Either way, Tadashi's touch consumes him. He's never understood the hold Tadashi has over him; golden, sliding like light against his bare skin, warming all the frigid reaches and melting the ice away. Even Ainosuke's flesh betrays him, raising to goosebumps breath Tadashi's fingertips, wracking him to shivers beneath Tadashi's lips. Everything he's missed, everything he's ached for so keenly. Fabric falls away under Tadashi's hands like a shed carapace, his breath washes hot over Ainosuke's neck, and for the first time in what feels like an eon, Ainosuke comes undone.
The costume is hanging low on Ainosuke's hips when he turns, and his grip twists into Tadashi's shirt at either side of his waist. There's so much behind his eyes right now, and Ainosuke's too overwhelmed to disguise it. To Tadashi, it must be plain to read; hurt and need and terror and a deeply aching love, all tangled behind weeping scarlet wounds. ]
If you leave me again-- [ Ainosuke's whisper is practically a growl. ]
Tadashi...
[ Please, please never leave me again. He wants to say it. He nearly does, but the words are all flooded out, muddled to silence, like struggling to speak around a mouth full of blood. ]
no subject
[ tadashi says quietly, firmly, two syllables cutting through the chaos of ainosuke's roiling emotions. in the wake of the breakdown, he knows, too, that ainosuke has never been more vulnerable, the sea of pain and anger and turmoil and the impossible longing, hurting and raw across the chasm they have made for themselves.
tadashi aches for him, his heart clenching at the sight of ainosuke like he's never seen before, in the limited moonlight, crimson eyes blazing in the dark. ainosuke has suffered for years, hurting and lashing out, and tadashi has taken everything that he has to dole out. he looks up into that handsome, pale face, reminded of what remains after a storm, and he reaches to cup his cheek.
the chips have fallen where they ought, and tadashi has been given leave to finally bridge the distance. so bridge he does, cupping ainosuke's face with unyielding tenderness, bolstered by his unwavering, unrelenting love for him, no matter the weight of his transgressions. tadashi has sinned against him, but his desire for redemption is part of what brought them here, securing ainosuke in his loneliness.
his other hand smoothes up to splay possessively over the span of his back. he coils around ainosuke again, his lips pressing against the side of his mouth. ainosuke is heartbreakingly beautiful when he falls apart, but tadashi will put him back together again. ]
I will never leave you, I promise.
[ ainosuke is the light of his life, the one thing that tadashi finds himself orbiting around, for better or worse. he doesn't look away when they're practically nose to nose, and it is now or never for tadashi, to bridge that gap anew and to fill the emptiness with everything he has ever wanted to tell him. he has left his own feelings buried for too long, his love for ainosuke hidden underneath guilt and penance. guilt, it seems, is a paralyser that has dammed them both.
tadashi's next words are just as raw, just as true. in the mire of muddled words and the fierce desperation of long-buried sentiment, tadashi will provide clarity. ]
I love you. I never stopped.
no subject
There's so much that comes with those words. Love has never been unconditional for Ainosuke; it has always hinged upon an expectation, like some alchemical exchange. Ainosuke's skin still carries the reminders of it, and his arms faintly ache with Tadashi's confession. For a moment, Ainosuke hates it. He hates that he's like this, he hates everything that has made him this way. In another life, in another time, he could hear these words without fighting the urge to flinch. Why can't he have that now? Why can't he just keep and love Tadashi without this subtle undercurrent of horror?
Ainosuke's grip tightens on Tadashi's shirt, clawing him infinitesimally closer, even through a short and violent shake of his head. ]
You don't know what that means.
[ To love Ainosuke -- really and truly love him -- is to embrace all these shattered parts, and chance the thousand bone-deep cuts along the way. He'll leave Tadashi in ribbons like this, he'll tear him to pieces. And worse still, Ainosuke wants to do just that. He wants Tadashi to hold him despite his razor blade touch, wants Tadashi to kiss him through his knife-sharp tongue. He wants Tadashi to bleed for him, as Ainosuke's heart has bled for Tadashi since the very beginning. And he wants it so badly, he's finally -- at long last -- crying for it.
The tears are hot and wild. They spill down Ainosuke's face through a silent shudder and a hitched gasp, and though Ainosuke's grip on Tadashi doesn't loosen, he slowly sinks to his knees. It feels like begging, like silent supplication, with his forehead pressed to Tadashi's hip. He can't ask for it. He doesn't have the words. Love is a foreign tongue that hurts to speak, but perhaps this is enough.
Tadashi's always understood what Ainosuke needs; surely he can interpret this plea as well.
Need me. Love me. Show me love. And never, ever stop. ]
no subject
tadashi's heart breaks when he hears that sob, the unwelcome reminder that ainosuke has willingly swallowed the lies of those who falsely pledged to love him, unable to face the horror of their selfishness and unfettered desires, with him serving only as a tool for progress. tadashi has watched it all unfold, forced to keep his silence or forever be torn from his beloved's side, but here and now is a shining moment to mend the tattered pieces of his psyche, to show, as he never could, what it means to be loved.
he aches to love ainosuke, to coil around him so tightly that all ainosuke can do is breathe him in. it is a bold thought, terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and he feels the shake of those shoulders, the hot, wet sting of his tears as ainosuke sinks to his knees and cries, finally spilling what langa has broken open. tadashi, who can never bear to see him alone in his hurt, finally has a chance to make things right, to get on his knees together with him, pressing his lips to those tears, kissing them away.
his hand comes to curl in that thick, unruly hair, cradling the back of his head to him. he knows his master, he knows the words that catch in his throat, thick like the blood in his moth. he doesn't have to ask, he doesn't have to beg -- tadashi will happily rend himself to pieces on the knife-sharp edges of ainosuke's whims; he will ache for the way ainosuke tears into him and leaves him bleeding. ainosuke loves him like a forest fire, grand and uncontrolled and wild and just as beautiful, and he grips his hair just a little tighter, forcing him to look at him.
oh, his lovely, lovely ainosuke. tadashi has been silent for far too long, suppressing his own heart, his own desires -- tonight, he can bear his own reticence no longer. ]
I know exactly what it means to love you.
[ ainosuke, adam, with all of his cruelty and his violence, his obsessions and his desperation, the heart that never stopped bleeding for his sake. another kiss, another. tadashi lovingly tastes the salt of ainosuke's tears, claiming them for himself. tadashi's love is tender but unyielding, painless but overwhelming, different. here. he has always been here, before adam, before eden. after all, he helped create them both.
his other hand cups ainosuke's face now, lips barely inches from his as he meets his eyes again. don't run away from him, ainosuke, not this time. tadashi, quietly determined, lets his own passion show, green eyes dark and intent. ]
I remain yours to do with as you wish. [ he leans in deeper, before finally pressing the softest of kisses to his mouth, sealing a promise. ] Let me give you what you need.
no subject
How should he handle something like this? How is he meant to hold it? Something that feels as if it will fall to dust in his hands, slip through his fingers, and scatter to the wind? How could he possibly carry these two hearts that feel so delicate?
But this feels like the surest place to start. Despite the torrent of doubt, Tadashi's lips feel more like home than these cold manor walls ever have. Ainosuke's hands finally abandon their grip on Tadashi's shirt, and scramble up to sink through his hair instead. They sink in, grip tight, his jaw a hard set as pulls Tadashi eye level, forces their gaze to meet. Crimson to verdant, raging storm to deadly calm, and god--
How did Ainosuke forget this? How beautiful Tadashi's eyes are? The depth he's always found behind them? How they move him, pull him, beckon and call to him?
They turn him traitor so quickly. The walls fall all at once, collapse beneath the weight of memory and the promise of more. Ainosuke forces their lips together like rebellion, like revolution, like inferno; razing all his foundations under the demanding slide of his tongue, tearing up the roots beneath a desperate pull of teeth. He wants this, wants Tadashi, wants him so much -- too much -- and all his defenses are failing him.
So he'll consume Tadashi. He'll eat the very heart out of him. He'll be devoured in kind, and he'll smile through the desecration. And they'll lay new roots, to nurture whatever blooms in the ruin. ]
Touch me. [ Ainosuke practically sobs, staggered gasps between the crush of their lips. ] Tadashi, touch me. Kiss me. Love me. I need you.
no subject
it still makes him sick, and the memory of it twists in tadashi's gut as he feels ainosuk's uncertainty, grappling with the different versions of love he presented to him. but tadashi's heart is irrevocably his; it has been his the moment tadashi spotted the young boy peeking over the hedge at him. he feels the roughness of that tuck, the aching pain in his scalp, but he knows that ainosuke's is only operating on what he knows.
there's a storm that roars in the sea of his gaze, but tadashi is the harbour that he will return to, his own calm reflected in the depths of his eyes, and he parts his mouth to kiss him back with a low, approving moan, telegraphing his intent, his need for him in turn. tadashi needs him like a drowning man needs air, and as ainosuke's own defenses fail, tadashi wastes no time flooding his senses, filling his helplessness with his strength, his own passion.
he offers his own heart up in sacrifice but he takes ainosuke's, too, coiling around his heart and squeezing. his hands move now, span down over the muscles of his chest, his abs, down and down to push the rest of his costume off him. he licks into his mouth fiercely, firmly claiming his mouth for another kiss, another, another, pushing the costume down to his thighs.
he's pushing him back onto the carpet, intent on getting the last of that outfit off of him, his hands possessive, roaming, breaking the kiss only to press heated ones down his neck, over his collarbone. he moves above him, caging him down with his own limbs. ]
I need you, Ainosuke-sama. [ he breathes, raw and fierce, finally allowing himself his own agency. they are laying foundations anew, stretching across the ruins of what they were, and tadashi knows it's now or never. he will take his master's bleeding heart inside of his own and tend it. his free hand slips between his legs now, palming his balls, thumbing up the thick root of his cock to reacquaint himself with him. then, again, because he needs to hear it, because tadashi wants to push the memory of his aunts' words out of ainosuke's mind, little by little. after all, serpents are territorial creatures. ] I love you.
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Ainosuke can't help noticing -- for what must be the millionth time -- how utterly, perfectly matched they are. To Ainosuke, love had always been a rose; vanity on the surface and barbs beneath. But Tadashi showed him a gentle love, razed the roses and left his soft chrysanthemums blooming in their stead. And for his own part, Ainosuke has never known exactly how to rectify the two, how to tend something delicate when he only knew pain; Tadashi abandoned him before he ever truly learned how.
And now here they are again, and Ainosuke's faced with the realization that he never idealized anything about their time together. Nothing rose-colored, nothing misremembered. Tadashi's touch is every bit as arresting now as it had been then, pulling Ainosuke apart with every kiss, pushing fire through his veins with each shift of his hands. ]
I love you. [ Ainosuke breathes. ] I love you, Tadashi. I've always...
[ It's like a cage beneath Tadashi, bracketed by his limbs; trapped, and yet exactly where Ainosuke wants to be. It doesn't stop his hands from wandering, intent to lose themselves, slipping beneath Tadashi's shirt to spread over the his back. Even touching him is like electric, a rush straight from his fingertips to the aching hardness in Tadashi's grasp, and--
Ainosuke needs more of it. More skin. He shoves Tadashi back just enough to start peeling him bare; jacket first, shirt next, making such a quick and efficient disposal of Tadashi's clothing. He's working his way through the zipper of Tadashi's pants before he speaks again: ]
Off. Off.
[ It's the best he can manage for a demand -- an order -- through the desperate crush of his lips to Tadashi's temple, his cheek, his jaw; over and over, wherever he can reach. ]
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ainosuke has always loved him, and the truth of it makes him pause, looking up to see if it's true, to search his gaze for confirmation, that he has always loved him, that even through that well-deserved spite and anger, he --
-- his breath catches, and tadashi lets go of him only to make quick work of his jacket, shirt, pants, helping him with it and kicking the rest off, craving to feel his skin against his all over again. this time, he thinks, this time it's different, this encounter charged not with anger and rage but desperation and passion, vulnerability threaded in every movement.
he tosses the last article of his clothing aside with a low groan and cups his face to connect with his lips in a proper kiss, unable to keep a soft noise of heartache, of wonder, of painful, wonderful longing. he's leaning into his touch, and when he breaks the kiss, his hands smooth down the solid length of his body, memorising him for himself all over again.
ainosuke is lovely, charged like a livewire underneath him, and so rarely is tadashi allowed to touch him that he gluts on it, memorising every inch of him anew. he bites gently, tasting him, giving in to everything that the younger man seeks from him. here it is now, the pleasure rediscovered, and he breaks the kiss to trail hungry lips down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, right over his heart. ]
I've missed you. [ he murmurs, low and quiet, fingers rubbing over the divot of his hipbones, possessive and soothing in equal measure. it's bold, the words that he's put between them, but he has, and his kisses betray his longing. he will show him what love is, all over again. he will make his body remember just what it really is, his hands coming to part his thighs firmly, thumbing over the sensitive inside of them as he savours everything that ainosuke is willing to give to him. ] Let me remind you --
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But Tadashi? He's also different, and nothing could have prepared Ainosuke for that realization. With his clothing gone, Ainosuke can appreciate it fully, and Tadashi's body holds him rapt. Where did this come from? Where was he hiding it? He's like a masterpiece chiseled from marble, and Ainosuke's been given leave to touch, to revere, to defile. And he does; his hands are greedy, tracing the sharp cuts of his abs, the softer stretch of his pecs, grasping softly at the rise in his shoulders, and God help him, Ainosuke finally -- fully and truly -- knows madness. He wants to tear Tadashi apart piece by piece, devour him whole, consume his heart and his soul and his love, and carry him forever within. Perhaps Tadashi does too.
They are, after all, ravenous; so much as to trap them on the floor, tangled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed. Tadashi is slipping away from him, down, and Ainosuke can't manage more than to sink a hand through his hair. He could lose himself in this. In the softness of Tadashi's hair, in the gentle push between his legs. Ainosuke's thighs spread eagerly at Tadashi's insistence, welcoming him between, even through a silent plea in Ainosuke's eyes. He wants more; more touch, more kisses, more and more until he drowns in Tadashi and floats away with him together.
And still, there's that instinct; to either flinch away or to lash out. Ainosuke resists it so valiantly, even when he can see it so clearly in his mind. How can this truly be love? How can Tadashi breathe his I love yous without delivering a blow in its wake? How can Ainosuke claim to love him in kind, absent the agony? How can he reconcile one without the other? ]
Show me. [ Ainosuke whispers, and his fingers curl tight into Tadashi's hair. ] Remind me. I want you.
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after all, it is tadashi that had turned away first, putting up the wall between them that ainosuke had kept up out of spite and betrayal and hurt and pain, crumbling in places as the years wore on.
and now, here, this permission is as invigorating as it is intoxicating, as is the way ainosuke opens up to him now, those gorgeous crimson red eyes burning for him. tadashi shares the same madness, the burning, scorching fever of desire that makes him press his mouth to the inside of his thigh, to kiss and lick and gently nip and worship. he doesn't miss how his beloved master opens up so eagerly to him, a veritable feast for the taking.
so take he does, committing every precious inch of him to memory anew -- the last time they had done this was a lifetime ago, and he can't help the thudding of his heart as he nuzzles his cheek against the bob of his long, thick cock, massive when jutting proudly between firmly muscled thighs. he makes his way down, down, nosing against the softness of his plump, full sac, before pressing his tongue to the patch of skin underneath. ainosuke is so very beautiful in this light, magnificent and willing and no longer the young man once tangled in him. he smells like clean musk and light sweat, so very much like him that tadashi finds himself burning for him, relishing those fingers in his hair while he licks his own and seeks him out, a single finger pressing between both those firm cheeks to trace a circle around the tight ring of his hole, gently teasing.
of course, tadashi wastes no time in sealing his intent, his love and adoration on every inch of him. watch now, darling, as tadashi proves that love doesn't come with violence or pain, and all there is is tenderness and affection, bright and unrelenting in deep green eyes. he keeps ainosuke's cock pinned against his lower abdomen, his soft lips taking his balls into his mouth, laving and licking shamelessly, a single saliva-slick finger teasing into his entrance at the same time. he finally gets to do what he's long yearned to do, reclaiming what has been his all along. ainosuke's confession still rings in his ears, making him giddy, but now, first, he wants to please him and make him come, make him understand just how much he's loved.
they've lost so much time, tadashi won't allow him to waste a minute more. ]
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[ Ainosuke feels so much; wants so much. It's been a slow eternity since he's been permitted either. Tadashi's touch is absolute luxury, and Ainosuke swears it's turning his body to gold. It's all there each time Ainosuke closes his eyes, precious gems blooming across his skin like petals beneath Tadashi's fingers. He could make Ainosuke priceless like this; completely spoil him for anyone else, unattainable for those destitute of the fortune behind Tadashi's lips and the wealth of his hot, plying tongue.
There's a touch of madness to Ainosuke already. He can feel it in the way his thighs shake on either side of Tadashi's head, and god that's right-- Ainosuke remembers now. Obscene, the way Tadashi welcomes -- or, perhaps demands -- Ainosuke's balls in his mouth; profane, how Tadashi's already invaded his body with a single digit. And licentious, how it feels as if they've simply picked back up where they left off, and Ainosuke is lost already in his own notions of impropriety. The hand in Tadashi's hair tightens, smoothes, then tightens again, as if it can't decide between violence and decadence.
Tadashi will stay like this, with Ainosuke, for all time. Ainosuke will make sure of it. He'll trap Tadashi inside this gilded cage with him, and even if they never truly know freedom, at least they'll be chained eternally to each other.
Tadashi, Tadashi... A soft hymnal of moans, Ainosuke's voice deep and thick with lust, practically singing Tadashi's name. His lips are suddenly so loose, and his praise so liberal: ]
More, Tadashi... My love, my life, my Tadashi. Give me more...
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here they are, crossing every imaginable line possible, drawing together like they have before, as if the years between them are inconsequential. and perhaps they are, especially when tadashi already knows every inch of his body so intimately. he explores him anew, delighted when he hears his throaty purr for more -- goodness, how it sends him spiraling, how ainosuke's pleasure is his own, how he adores him to no end, that he draws out of him and gently coaxes him onto his hands and knees. ]
I will, I promise.
[ he murmurs, gently trying to coax him over and giving him space. how his words ring so sweetly in his ears; my love, my life, my tadashi. how tadashi would die for him a hundred thousand times over, if only to be with him just like this. he will gladly be twined in a gilded cage with him, chained to his beloved, his sun and stars.
he wants to make ainosuke sing just like this, every single time. ]
Hands and knees, Ainosuke-sama. [ he's more aggressive now, urging him on. he's hungry for him, and he won't be denied. ] Let me give you everything you need.
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But in the end, there's no argument. Ainosuke's driven by something beyond himself, some desperate need to keep Tadashi close -- closer -- to take him inside. To consume him physically, metaphorically, any way he can, and by any means. Ainosuke thought he was past this, above this; untouchable, unshakeable. And now Tadashi's touching him, shaking him, dragging out a starving creature that Ainosuke left to die long ago, and all Ainosuke wants is more.
Under Tadashi's insistence, Ainosuke shifts, turns, and immediately presses himself up against Tadashi. It brings Ainosuke's back to Tadashi's chest, and a subtle tilt of his hips forces Tadashi's cock between the warm cleft of his ass, brushes the most maddening friction against Ainosuke's waiting hole. It begs a quiet whine, and Ainosuke reaches over his shoulder to hook a hand behind Tadashi's neck; holds him close enough that Ainosuke can tip his head back to catch Tadashi's earlobe with his teeth, and pant breathless pleas against his throat. ]
Fuck me, Tadashi. Take me. Make me yours again.
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[ tadashi's words are choked when he feels the other man so cheekily, wonderfully tuck his cock between those firm, soft asscheeks. he's unable to bite back a soft moan before he grips his hip to keep him in place, pre-cum on the plump tip of his cock smearing over soft, smooth skin. he will wreck him tonight, take him apart and build him back again so that ainosuke will forever be marked by tadashi's kisses and touches, the shape of him buried deep inside of his tight, tight hole.
he feels raw, fierce, his heart pounding with every plea from those sugar-sweet lips. he captures his mouth then, passionate and searing, before he pulls away to spit onto his hand, letting it slide down to grip ainosuke's cock tight, stroking him from root to tip. he fucks him slow, snug between his thighs to rub up against his balls. ]
Come for me first. I need to get your tight little hole ready.
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But then his fingers shift, tremble, push up the side of Tadashi's neck and sink into his hair. And in the softness he finds there, he remembers more. Their first-- It was in the garden, tangled together just like this. Night fallen, in an alcove of rose bushes, in the cradle of Tadashi's arms, lips and breath hot on Ainosuke's shoulder, Tadashi's hands beneath his shirt and between his legs. Hadn't they been watching the stars? The Leonids, wasn't it? Then honeyed words, and plush kisses, and heat, heat, heat, burning away all the doubt and the shame, turning their repression to ash, and--
Ainosuke's eyes fly wide when it hits, his cries fill the room, a wounded mantra of Tadashi's name. He doesn't know when his free hand found Tadashi's wrist, but he grips it tight, a ballast to steady him through each paralyzing wave of his pleasure. He shudders through the thick, heavy spill of cum, over his chest and Tadashi's hand, and it's like finding paradise. Like coming home to Eden, finally theirs again, only in Tadashi's arms.
He also doesn't know when he started crying. But he's blinking back tears when he collapses against Tadashi, suddenly bereft every ounce of tension. ]
Our first was like that. [ Ainosuke whispers, breathless, and smoothes his fingers over Tadashi's hair. ] In the roses, Tadashi. Just like that. Do you remember?
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[ tadashi responds, low and husky and weighted with love, with adoration. this is special, between them -- the feeling of ainosuke coming into his hand, the sudden tension that slips away so sweetly, ainosuke clinging to him like he had that fateful night, when tadashi had given all of his heart and soul to him. they were teens, then, in love and terrified and exhilarated, making love to each other amongst the intoxicating scent of blooming roses.
he presses soft kisses against the side of his neck, encouraging him, crooning soft, barely audible words of praise as he slicks his fingers up with his cum, scooping more up to slide over his own cock. it's filthy and intimate, using ainosuke's cum as lube after such a long, long while, preparing to fuck him with just it.
but it is a reunion that has been long in coming, and he gently nips at his throat before he pushes two fingers inside of him, knowing how ainosuke likes it a little rough at first. he thinks of their youth, of how he'd lost himself in ainosuke's eyes, and he searches him out to kiss his tears away again before sealing his mouth to his.
his fingers move, slow and deliberate, and his heart skips a beat when he feels just how wonderfully snug and tight he is, the way his body clings to his slippery fingers when he fucks him, nice and slow. ]
You are the most beautiful creature I've ever set my eyes on. I wanted to keep you with me in that garden forever.
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[ There's barely time for Ainosuke to recover. He's still shaking softly in the wake of his peak when Tadashi's fingers slip inside, and push him to breathless cries all over again. They brush that spot within him, and it forces Ainosuke's spine into a hard arch, too sensitive and too responsive to Tadashi's touch, even through the faint ache of his breach.
Some part of him wants to hold onto that pain, wants Tadashi to spare him the mercy and sink directly into him. Once upon a time, he'd craved it -- practically demanded it -- just like that. Because that edge of pain was always what felt comfortable, what he always understood love to be, even with Tadashi touching him so tenderly. And that's all he ever wanted from Tadashi. Love undying, love unconditional, because he'd always been the only spark in this neverending void, and Ainosuke would cling to his light in any way he could.
They were never meant to cause each other this pain. They were never meant to be alone. It wasn't agony or abuse that bound them, all those years ago. It was love, from the moment their eyes met. The kind of love that should have been held gently and tended with a delicate touch. The kind of love that should have bloomed in the sun and flourished in the soft warmth of summer.
Instead, they let it wither. They crushed its petals under careless hands and left it to dry. To die. Nothing but arid wastelands for their souls. And now here is Tadashi. An oasis, kissing life back into their love, flooding Ainosuke's entire being with his devotion. It's like suffocating. It's like breathing. Ainosuke can't decide which from one moment to the next.
He tilts his head to press kiss after kiss to Tadashi's cheek, to his jaw and his throat, then back up again. His thighs shake when he pushes himself hard against Tadashi's fingers, angles himself for more of that overwhelming rush, and breathes soft whimpers into Tadashi's ear when he finds it. ]
Please, Tadashi. More. I need you inside. Please.
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it's overwhelming, being allowed to do this together with ainosuke again after so long -- his longing and desire almost chokes him, as do the words he never thought he would hear. they were never meant to be apart from each other, even if tadashi's inaction and ainosuke's rage and grief poisoned their bond, it was always unbreakable, and tadashi's love for ainosuke has always been absolute.
it's clearer than ever now and here, when love blossoms between them with every kiss, every touch. he pulls his fingers away now, taking the chance to slick up his own very hard, every slippery cock, yearning to bury itself inside of that tight, familiar clutch of him again.
he can do little to resist that plaintive begging, and he angles himself now, with one hand curled around his hip, the other grasping the base of his dick to gently, slowly push inside of him. he shudders with every inch that stretches ainosuke's tight little hole, and looking down into where his body is taking him in almost drives him mad.
how is it possible to be even more in love with him, recklessly, wonderfully, wretchedly so? he's halfway in when he returns the kiss, nudging him so that he can kiss him squarely on the mouth as he forces him to keep still. he wants to feel this, all of this, until he bottoms out inside him, balls pressed up against the firm globes of his ass. god, he loves his ass so much. ]
Ainosuke-sama --
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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.
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he ruts up into him, baring his throat to ainosuke as he obeys the violence of that tug, reading the blessed desperation in those crimson eyes. ainosuke needs tadashi as much as he needs him, and in this, he's intoxicated. ]
I promise.
[ he breathes, leaning forward to kiss him again, again and again, grinding his hips into him when he bottoms out, ruthlessly pressing against the knot of sensitive nerves that tadashi had once known so intimately, so long ago. they have much to make up for, much to do together, and now is the best place to start. tadashi coaxes him on with a low moan, urging him onwards with every shallow thrust, so deep inside of him. ]
I'll stay -- come for me --
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Even now, his desire is some visceral thing. Shapeless, formless, endless and hungry as the void within him, single-minded and ravenous. Tadashi bottoms out deep and quick, assaults him with the same ruthless precision Ainosuke loves him for. It overwhelms him without warning, floods him, shocks him through and through with each stroke and drowns him in a pleasure that feels endless. Crippling. Harrowing. But in the midst of this madness, Ainosuke can finally find the shape of his desire, firm out the blurry edges and make Tadashi out of its design at last.
Ainosuke's teeth catch hard on the side of Tadashi's neck, and when he obeys -- when he comes again, right on the edge of Tadashi's demand -- Ainosuke tastes blood. It can't be helped. It rips through him, shakes him body and soul, leaves decimation in its wake. Tadashi's throat is all that muffles the cry, and Ainosuke clings to him as he shivers apart. He swears it's all of him, every single piece, that spills out of him now, unravels him even as his body clenches tight and throbs around Tadashi's achingly perfect cock. ]
Come with me, Tadashi. [ Ainosuke gasps, weeps, pleads. ] Come in me.