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Ijin killed the engine and let out a shaky breath. That had been close.
“We should be safe now,” he told 016.
The words were barely out of his mouth that the had a lap full of boyfriend and a mouthful of tongue. Carried by the high of a close call, he didn't waste any time grabbing him by the waist and reciprocating, which was why he was so disappointed when, as quickly as he'd started it, 016 pulled back to stare at him.
Ijin tilted his head in askance.
He felts 016's fingers running through his bangs.
“You look so hot like that.”
Ijin sort of doubted he looked anything with only the light of the moon through dirty windows to illuminate his face.
“I think that's your post-battle libido talking, love” he said, a little cheeky.
“No, really.” 016 turned his head a moment, seemingly embarrassed, before looking back at him with wide, hungry eyes. “032 got me pictures of the last time you dressed like this. It's extremely hot.”
Part of Ijin, the part that tried to avoid cameras at all cost, was a little miffed his comrade had taken pictures of him and shared them like this. Most of him, though, was also affected by post-battle libido.
“Oh? Did you masturbate to those?”
There wasn't enough light for color vision, but Ijin was sure 016 was blushing.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I kept getting myself confused because I couldn't decide if I wanted to blow you and see you go back out still looking unruffled or if I wanted to ruin you.”
Ijin shivered. 016 always had the best ideas. He pulled him in another kiss, half as show of appreciation and half to give himself time to compose a response to that.
“We'll have to put a pin on the first one,” he said when they separated, “I'm already pretty ruffled, what with the blood splatters and all.”
016 twitched under his hands. Did he have a thing for blood? Ijin wouldn't blame him, because he kind of did too. Side effect of their formative sexual experiences being post mission handjobs with the other numbers, he supposed.
He summoned his cockiest look.
“How are you going to ruin me, then?”
016's eyes widened for a second before he rose to the challenge. Leaning very close to Ijin, he whispered:
“I'm going to ruin that neat hairdo by using it like a handle, and I'm going to ruin your pretty face by fucking your throat until you're all red and splotchy from choking and crying.”
Ijin could get behind that. Or in front of that, as it were.
“Then I'm going going to ruin your pressed shirt and your expensive jacket by coming all over them.”
That one was dry clean only, which should have put him off but instead made it even more appealing.
“And if you're very good, I'll help you ruin your own pants yourself.”
Ijin had never wanted to be good this badly in his entire life. A thought made him frown, though.
“It won't stain as much as it could with my underwear in the way.”
016 laughed, rough and cracky, and shoved his hand down Ijin's pants. Between the fit of the trousers and his growing erection it was a little tight, though 016 did manage his objective, which was apparently to pinch the band of his boxers between two fingers and drag it down just enough to free his head.
Ijin gasped. The elastic band was digging in the underside of his dick, the worsted wool of the trousers was rough on his skin, and he could feel the irregular shape of the zipper against his glans even through the underlay covering it. It was going to be uncomfortable pretty soon, but he had a feeling he'd be too fucked out to care by then.
“Anything else?” 016 teased.
Ijin tried to get enough air for an answer.
“No coming on my face,” he managed. He hated the feeling of fluids too close to his eyes.
“Of course not, it'll look much better on your jacket.”
Yeah, he had said something like that, hadn't he? In Ijin's defense, his other head was doing most of the thinking.
016 got off his lap and crawled back to the passenger seat. Ijin barely had time to mourn the loss before 016 was pushing the seat all the way back, spreading his legs and getting his dick out.
Ijin scrambled to him, collapsed on his knees, and dove. He felt 016 grab a hold of his hair and thrust his hips. Ijin gripped 016 as tight as he could and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself. He always struggled with surrendering himself when they played. He'd only survived this long by keeping himself in control of his body, running on willpower to move on his own rather than being moved. Logically, he knew he could trust 016, but crossing the threshold was always a struggle. Thankfully, 016 had gotten good at pushing him through.
Gripping Ijin's hair a little tighter, he shoved his face down as far as it could go, keeping it there and grinding in little circles instead of thrusting in and out. Ijin tried to keep control, at first, swallowing rhythmically around the intrusion in his throat. 016 wouldn't have that though, and he gave a harsh tug on his hair before roughly pushing his hips up. His dick couldn't get any further down, but the force of the sudden movement was enough to knock Ijin off his rythm.
He couldn't breathe. Animal panic took over, and he started kicking his legs and clawing at 016's sides. A hand moved to his nape and held firmly, while the other kept an iron grip in his hair, keeping his head still through his increasingly desperate struggles. His throat spasmed. His lungs tried to expand, unsuccessfully. His eyes went blurry with tears, and his ears started ringing. Through it all the thing choking him kept going.
Ijin shook with something that would have been a sob, if he'd had the use of his throat. There was another harsh tug on his hair, and through the ringing he could hear a voice bark his codename. In contrast, the cock in his throat kept its unhurried pace, and something started gently rubbing the side of his neck. 016's thumb, from the hand on his nape.
016.
016.
016 was backup. 016 was safe.
He could let go.
It was like falling in deep water; a great shudder, then stillness.
He felt himself go limp on 016's lap. 016 rewarded him by pulling his head back just enough to let him breathe and started petting his hair while he panted.
“Good boy,” he cooed, “good boy. Let's try that again now you've calmed down, huh?”
Ijin obediently kept his throat as lax as he could as 016 started pounding his dick in him, barely letting him a moment to gasp for air between thrusts.
Ijin didn't know how long it lasted, cocooned in a cloud of cotton, only aware of 016's hands and dick and soothing voice, indistinct words mingling with the sobs and whines he was barely aware of producing.
Eventually, 016 pulled him fully off his dick.
“Come on, up you get,” he ordered, before pulling his head upwards. It took his addled mind a moment to get with the program and start scrambling to get in 016's lap, mirroring their earlier position.
016 did not let him savor this little victory before he was putting Ijin's hand on his cock and wrapping his own around it.
“C'mon, your job's not done.”
Ijin watched him guide his hand through a few stroke then come. 016 had been right, the pearly drops looked fascinating on the slightly hydrophobic surface of his black jacket. It was especially nice in contrast with the blood stains on his white shirt.
016, who had apparently gotten himself back together while Ijin stared, started petting his hair again with one hand, while the other cupped him through his pants. Ijin tried to take stock of his own hands. One was still holding on 016's shoulder for dear life, and the other was still loosely wrapped around his dick. Should he remove that one? It was hard to remember, through the haze, how 016 felt about ongoing stimulation after orgasm. Ijin batted the thought away. 016 would remove it himself if he didn't want it there.
“Huh,” 016 said, sounding a little surprised. “You've come already?”
He had? Focusing, he noted that his dick was, in fact, only half hard, and pressed against damp fabric. Huh, indeed. He tried to think back, through the slowly dissipating cotton in his brain.
Cotton, right. He must have come while going under. It happened sometimes, though not usually this fast.
“You choked me,” he pushed out through his aching throat, hoping it was enough to convey his meaning.
“Huh,” 016 said again. “Damn. You haven't had a proper orgasm in a while, have you?"
Because you haven't taken proper care of me in while, he didn't say. Still, he felt a little bad for thinking it.
"Well, you have been a very good boy, so I guess you deserve a second orgasm.”
The praise made him shiver, but it wasn't quite enough to stop the uncomfortable reality from seeping back in. He let himself fall forward and buried his face between 016's shoulder and neck.
“Do it quick, then,” he whined, “cause I'm waking up.”
“Shit,” 016 breathed.
Shit was right. Ijin would be done once the buzz dissipated fully, and being done and hard sucked. Not in the fun way, either.
“Shhhh, go back down, love, I'll take care of you.”
Thankfully, the soft words, combined with a hand rubbing his back and another petting his hair, were enough to lull him back into compliance.
“There you go,” 016 breathed, “Good boy, let me get you off now, and then we'll take a nap, okay.”
Ijin didn't have anything to say to that, so he just hummed vaguely. 016 started palming him through his pants again, slow and gentle. Heat spread through him, then, and he found himself wriggling against the pressure.
"Alright, alright," 016 chuckled. He started getting a little rougher, alternatively squeezing him and pushing the heel of his palm up, with increasing force behind each gesture. It made the shape of his zipper and the various folds of his pants dig into his sensitive dick. It was a little painful, but, just as he'd predicted, he was at a level of fucked out where that added to the experience rather than detracting from it.
All the while, 016 was murmuring encouragement and praise in his ear. It didn't take him long at all to come again, and as he came down, he didn't so much fall asleep as he gave up on consciousness.
016 had him, it was safe to let himself be ruined.