Work Text:
“Ryuunosuke, that was so good,” Atsushi rasps from somewhere up above him.
Akutagawa would respond, but since he is not the uncivilized buffoon the weretiger is, he knows better than to speak with his mouth full.
He swallows, then responds, “Don’t use my full name, fool.” His voice comes out hoarse and hollow. “We are not that close.”
“You just gave me the best blow job of my life,” Atsushi points out.
“You say that every time."
“They just keep getting better,” Atsushi teases.
He rolls his eyes and adjusts his robe closer around his shoulders as he glares at Atsushi.
This is not the first time this has occurred. Rough missions leads to Atsushi insisting on walking him home, on bandaging him up. The first time, they’d kissed. The second he’d sunk to his knees in front of Atsushi, pulled his pants down to his thighs, and sucked. He couldn’t even say why - some show of gratitude for the weretiger’s time, some desire thrumming through his veins after seeing Atsushi in a fight, or maybe it was the way Atsushi said his name after they kissed, awestruck and reverent.
And so it went, a patch up after a battle and then his attentions on Atsushi- hand or mouth. The oddest thing was that he never got the impression Atsushi did this for the reward. On the few occasions when Akutagawa was too tired or too sick to complete their usual post battle ritual, the weretiger still came over and helped him into bed or with bandages or even just made tea.
Infuriating.
He rolls his eyes at the weretiger now and sits back on his haunches as he swipes at his mouth and cleans himself. Atsushi tucks himself back into his pants and sits up off the pillows.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, as he motions to the bandage on Akutagawa’s forearm.
“It’s fine.”
The weretiger’s eyes train on it for a second. The worst part of being partners is that he knows what’s going through the weretiger’s mind. The injury came because Rashomon was overextended. Atsushi had been thrown through a wall so violently that he’d been dizzy, stumbling about and unable to defend himself. Akutagawa had put up a shield over him, but the size of it meant his own armor was thin. Thin enough that their foe’s blade had cut through.
It was Aktuagawa’s scream that had rallied the weretiger.
He doesn’t want to think about that.
He locks eyes with the weretiger, who is biting his tongue to stop himself from snarking back. Akutagawa rolls his eyes again. “Well, now that you have received what you’ve come for, it is time for you to go,” he tells him.
“Wait.”
Atsushi scootches forward, so their knees brush. “I want to reciprocate. I know you don’t like having your clothes off, but can I suck your dick?”
He stares at Atsushi.
Atsushi misreads his silence. “You know I won’t hurt you. I promise. Can I suck your dick - uh, please?”
He blinks baleful eyes at him. Aktuagawa rubs at his forehead. “Are you perhaps stupid?” he asks.
“Don’t be mean,” Atsushi says. “I want to.”
“Weretiger, you have seen my scars. You know what they mean right?”
“You have a lot of scars, which ones are you talking about? And I don’t see what that has to do with me sucking your cock.”
“I don’t have a cock, you fool.”
He watches as the weretiger’s brain puts one and one together and comes up with two. Akutagawa glowers at him through the whole process. As understanding flashes across the weretiger’s face, he gets off the bed. “Right, so -”
“Can I eat you out?”
He stops.
Atsushi’s expression is open and honest and entirely too earnest. He reaches out towards Akutagawa, then pulls his hands back into his lap. Loathe as he was to admit it, that was a trait that endeared the weretiger to him. He was egregious with his affections, but within the boundaries Akutagawa has expressed. He has asked his question, therefore he will not try for more without permission.
Akutagawa’s eyes seek his. Atsushi meets his gaze. There’s no guile there. The weretiger can be, when he truly wants. He’s seen him lie on missions, holding his anxiety back until the danger is over. Yet with Akutagawa he’s always been forthright. First in his fury back in that alley. Then in his disdain. He cannot forget the way that disdain melted into admiration, to awe. He is not blind. He sees the way Atsushi watches him when he fights.
Perhaps that is why he slowly nods. “Very well,” he acquiesces.
Atsushi moves forward. His motions are smooth, but slow as if he is scared Akutagawa will change his mind. Their lips meet.
An arm snakes around him and he is moved, lips still locked. Akutagawa’s head hits his pillows and Atsushi hovers over him. “Pretty,” the weretiger croons. He has broken the kiss for a second to look down Akutagawa’s body. He is draped in a robe that is tied around his waist. Something thick and fluffy, given that he took a shower after their battle. He is always cold - no, make that he is usually cold. Right now warmth floods his veins. Perhaps it is because Atsushi is hovering over him and the little tiger is a heater. Perhaps it is because fingertips dance down his belly and slip between the folded robe. Perhaps it is because his lips have moved down to his neck and Atsushi is suckling at the skin there hard enough to bruise.
“I want to hear you,” he says. Only then does Akutagawa realize he’s been biting his lip so hard it bleeds.
“Atsushi,” he breathes out.
“I thought we weren’t close enough for first names,” Atsushi teases.
Akutagawa bites. His teeth glance across the weretiger’s nose.
“Hey!” Atsushi glares down at him. “Knock it off.”
“Make me.”
“Brat,” Atsushi huffs.
Still, he does as Akutagawa has commanded and puts that tongue to good use. Their lips meet again and Atsushi’s tongue darts into his mouth, tasting, exploring, savoring. His hands are not still, as they fish beneath his robe until they find what they’re looking for.
Akutagawa hisses as a large palm flits between his legs. Questing fingers stroke him tenderly. A thumb parts his folds and he tosses his head back in response.
“Oh, you’re really sensitive,” Atsushi comments. Akutagawa snaps his teeth, but they close on empty air. Atsushi just noses at his neck and licks a stripe up it. “Stop that,” he says with no real malice or frustration in his voice. Just patience. Just care.
His tongue on Akutagawa’s skin makes his eyes flutter shut so he can revel in the sensation. His mouth is warm against dewey skin.
The fingers between his legs resume their ministrations. They’re fumbling, clumsy, but do not balk as Atsushi gets himself acquainted. His mouth moves down his collar, across his chest. The robe falls open, his chest on display. Akutagawa knows he is open and vulnerable and that is a terrifying thought, but then a tongue encircles his nipple and there is no thought in his mind other than his pleasure.
“This is what you were talking about?” Atsushi asks.
Akutagawa contemplates kicking him. He does not want to talk. He has agreed to this, so he wants the weretiger to get on with it.
Atsushi reads the impatience in his grit teeth and balks. “Okay, okay. But this feels good, yeah?” he asks as he laps at his nipple.
“Yes,” he tells him. “Trust me, if you do something I do not like, I will let you know. Violently.”
To prove his point he summons a tendril of Rashomon out of the robe he wears so she can hiss at the weretiger.
Disproving his point, she gives Atsushi a little kiss on the tip of his nose and the foolish beast giggles and resumes his silly licking. His mouth moves to the other, leaving the first achingly stiff. He brings a hand up and rubs his own thumb across the nub. At the same time Atsushi gives the other symmetrical treatment. He licks with his entire body, the motion shifting the mattress and causing Akutagawa’s breath to hitch.
Atsushi pulls off and smacks his lips for a moment. A trail of drool trickles down his chin. He swipes it off, then makes eye contact with Akutagawa. His expression is… it’s not one he’s seen before. Glassy eyed with lust. Happy - pleased with himself. Languid, but thrumming with sheer delight.
Still keeping the eye contact he dips down and presses a kiss against Akutagawa’s abdomen. Fingertips ghost against his skin as he brushes the robe further out of the way. It’s still tied around his belly - that is one of the rules. Atsushi cannot disrobe him. He is not allowed to remove any garments. He abides but that gives Akutagawa no modesty now.
The air is cool against him. He’s still a little damp from his earlier shower and now the remaining water catches the air and makes him shiver. His - he never knows what to call it. His pussy, his vagina, his cunt - all seem wrong for some reason or another. Well, either way he shivers and he tries to tell himself it's the cold and not because he has Atsushi looking down at him. His face is inches above. Just enough that he can feel faint exhalations against his skin.
He expects Atsushi to dive in, lick at him twice, and then pat himself on the back. He knows he only does this to reciprocate, because he wants to keep getting his dick sucked after a battle and must make some overtures at giving pleasure back. Akutagawa stares at the ceiling and waits for fumbling fingers to mash against him as he pretends to enjoy it.
What he does not expect are soft kisses against his inner thigh. As he is touched there is a corresponded swoop of pleasure in his gut. The touch of lips to skin is feather light and far more restrained than he would have expected.
Atsushi licks a strip up from his knee. A moan falls from his lips and he shifts. His body adjusts to allow him to spread his legs further, to be attended to more thoroughly.
“That’s good, just like that,” Atsushi says. He looks down the length of his body to see fluffy white hair settling between his legs. Atsushi noses at him and then his tongue finally - finally - flits out and tastes him.
“Gah!” he cries out. He doesn’t mean to, but the sensation is strong than he anticipated. It wasn’t even much, just the flat of his tongue darting into his folds but all traces of the earlier chill are gone and in its place is fire. The fire of Atsushi’s mouth. A hand on his knee. A swirling in his stomach. “Fuck, weretiger.” He hates the way his voice trembles. Or at least, he would if he noticed.
“You taste good,” comes the murmured response.
Akutagawa’s finger clench at the covers. He needs something to hold onto. Atsushi licks again.
This time his tongue probes further. His muscles clench, tightening himself against the intrusion, then releasing. “Good boy,” Atsushi says. “You’re so wet for me.” He moans again. His cunt is relaxing now. His mind still whirls but each lap of the weretiger’s tongue against the length of him.
Atsushi’s mouth firmly presses down. With the newly found suction he swallows and Akutagawa keens in response. Hips roll. Atsushi holds him down with one hand and then uses his handhold to bring him to his mouth again. He finds a rhythm. Short bursts of licks followed with longer, more languid applications of his tongue.
He feels it - the moment Atsushi finds his clit. The nubs of his tongue seek it out and Akutagawa almost screams as his thighs quiver and tremble. “Oh, you liked that,” Atsushi says. He sounds too pleased with himself and he tries to snip back, but then Atsushi does it again.
“Oh, fuck - weretiger. Atsushi. There - please, please,” he babbles.
He half expects Atsushi to pull off. To deny him. Because Akutagawa does not get pleasure like this. He does not get his body feeling good, hips rolling to meet a warm and waiting tongue, a hand ushering his leg up to hike over his shoulder, to little murmurs and kisses as he opens himself up.
“What do you want?”
As if it could be that easy. That he could ask for something and just get it. Akutagawa puts a hand over his eyes and sobs, half in pleasure, half because he does not know what to do with this feeling in his chest, in his gut, in his rapidly warming cunt. Something is missing though and he doesn’t know what, just that he is empty and - ah. “Fingers,” he rasps. “Please, fingers, inside - and -”
Atsushi’s lips clamp on his clit as his tongue strokes. At the same time he slips a finger inside.
Akutagawa gasps. It’s just one finger. Just one - yet it glides in. He’s wet. Atsushi had commented on it earlier but now Akutagawa feels it. Wet enough that there’s no resistance, even given Atsushi’s brutish fumbling against him.
“More,” he says. Atsushi listens. Another finger joins the first and now, finally, he feels the pressure. Atsushi is moving his fingers but not with any dexterity. It doesn’t matter. What the weretiger lacks in experience he makes up for in eagerness. Whatever else he has to say of the weretiger’s attentions, there is no hesitation in him. As if Akutagawa’s pleasure is truly the end goal.
Ridiculous.
He makes a mistake and looks down. Atsushi’s eyes dart up to meet his. It’s a ridiculous picture. His tongue is out, the flat of it spreading his cunt open and rubbing against his clit. Akutagawa’s juices are smeared across his lips, which are swollen and red. As he watches, Atsushi licks his lips and then gives him a smile before turning down and twisting his fingers. His other hands grabs Akutagawa’s thigh and leaves him splayed open. He mouths sloppily at his cunt before finding his clit again and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks.
His fingers slide out. Atsushi looks back up at him and he watches with heaving breaths as he licks Akutagawa’s juices off his hand. Like he actually enjoys the taste.
“Monster,” he heaves.
“Delicious,” Atsushi retorts.
Then his fingers slide back in. He was empty, and now he is full again. Akutagawa wails and Atsushi’s fingers start to retreat again. His hips thrust forward of his own accord and he tries to chase them down. The emptiness only lasts for a second before his fingers fuck him again and Akutagawa almost sobs in relief.
The hand on his thigh lets go and he falls down onto the duvet. “Atsushi - fuck, I’m so close,” he begs again. He thinks he might have been begging already. No - shamefully, he knows he has.
“Let go, Ryuu. It’s okay. Cum for me,” Atsushi says. His fingers crook deep inside his cunt. After speaking his tongue swirls around the nub of his clit and the fire that has been building inside him turns into a wave, turns to lightning, turns to a tsunami.
He cums and Atsushi continues to lick at him. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t take his laps off him but he coaxes him along with a pleased grunts and hums of his own. Akutagawa’s body rocks, hips stuttering and quivering. His orgasm overrides everything, his thoughts, his coordination, his tongue. Low moans fill the room, coming from somewhere deep in his chest.
“There, good boy,” Atsushi murmurs softly. He is still two fingers deep inside Akutagawa’s cunt and there’s a wet noise as he withdraws. As a result he is left achingly empty.
The weretiger draws up his body and places a kiss to his lips. He raises a hand to bat him away, but instead his fingers curl into the short hairs on the nap of his neck and he pulls him in for another kiss.
“Ridiculous,” he scoffs, though there is no venom in the words. He tries, but he feels loose limbed and languid. Content.
Atsushi laughs as though this is the funniest thing in the world. Akutagawa grumbles, quietly at first and then louder as Atsushi gets off him and he is left freezing. “Sorry!” Atsushi says. He is standing next to the bed now, but reaches over and adjusts the robe so Akutagawa isn’t quite so open and exposed. Only then does he go grab a towel and come back to clean the slick from between his legs.
“Was that good for you?” he asks as he slides back into place beside him.
“Don’t presume you’re spending the night here,” Akutagawa snaps.
“Of course not,” Atsushi says as he slings an arm around him and sets his chin against his shoulder. He climbs under the covers and wraps it around Akutagawa as well. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”