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After a certain point in their relationship, Haru no longer complains each time he gets whisked away on a jet of the Kanbe fleet to some faraway country for the foreseeable future, if for no other reason than to be Daisuke’s arm candy and to keep him sane. It ends up being a reason for Haru to finally get on top of renewing his passport, and as the pages fill up with the stamps from places they’ve been, his heart swells at the memories they bring. He may not know a thing about whatever meetings or business-y things Daisuke does most of the time, but he’d be severely lying if he said he didn’t enjoy making mischief with his boyfriend wherever they go.
They’ve gone to Singapore this time around, and Haru admits wholeheartedly that he’s fallen in love with the city after barely being here for a few days. Daisuke often leaves early and returns late, spending the day cooped up in some high-rise building with other obscenely Rich and Powerful People doing Rich And Powerful People Things. In the meantime, Haru spends his day on the ground where he most enjoys, sightseeing and filling his belly with as much local food and snacks as he can handle, before returning to their hotel – or rather, penthouse – suite to enjoy the quietness of the evening with Daisuke.
Today is no different, and Haru emerges from the bathroom just as he hears the faint jingle signaling Daisuke’s return to their room just as the moon rises above the horizon. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he continues toweling his hair dry in front of their egregiously large bedroom mirror, and reaches for the new hair oil Daisuke managed to get him hooked on recently; he pretends to ignore the price tag on the Sisley oil whenever Daisuke buys him a new bottle, and instead relishes in the luxurious bounciness it gives his hair with each use.
Okay, so maybe dating Daisuke has refined his tastes a little bit. Just a little.
(Not like he’ll ever admit it.)
He’s oblivious to Daisuke’s presence until he picks up on the distinct, low hum that comes from behind him. Haru’s towel, once securely wrapped around his waist falls away like silk, leaving him deliciously exposed to his boyfriend’s gaze; he finds the corners of Daisuke’s lips upturned in a devious grin, his gaze following the natural curve of Haru’s body until it lands right where he wants it to be.
Look, Daisuke is a simple man. Present him with a firm, gorgeous ass and hips that make him dizzy, and he’s going to look. So he does. Stopped in the doorway, he watches as Haru continues primping in front of their mirror, making a show of it before he turns around to meet his gaze, quirking a curious brow when he realizes he’s caught him staring. Perhaps earlier on in their relationship, Daisuke might have been more subtle, maybe denied staring altogether; but now?
Not an ounce of shame.
“You’re quite the sight for sore eyes,” Daisuke sighs, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it onto the bed; next come his tie, his waistcoat, his cuff links. Try as he might, Haru will never understand the need for so many stupid layers of clothes; even if he does enjoy watching Daisuke peel them away at the end of the day. “Come here.”
Never one to deny his love, Haru lazily saunters over and drapes his arms over Daisuke’s shoulders, dipping down to kiss the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and then finally his lips. Daisuke’s own hands come to rest naturally over Haru’s hips, giving the supple flesh there a delicate squeeze.
“How were your meetings?”
Daisuke huffs. “Don’t.”
Haru chuckles quietly, nuzzling against the side of Daisuke’s face. “In that case, I had a wonderful day, in case you were wondering. Suzue sent me a list of places to visit while you were gone, and- hey, don’t give me that look. I brought back that chili crab you like. Did you eat?”
Daisuke makes another quiet noise, and drops his forehead to rest against Haru’s shoulder, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Haru exhales a pleased sigh, delicately carding his fingers through Daisuke’s hair. “Before I returned, yes.
“I knew skipping on dessert would serve me well,” he deadpans, his hands ghosting over his ass, before firmly squeezing to elicit a quiet groan from Haru’s lips.
A low chuckle, and Haru draws back just far enough to coax Daisuke to meet his gaze. “You’re insatiable, d’you know that?”
Daisuke flits his eyes between the smooth creaminess of Haru’s clavicle and his amber gaze, before soon settling on kissing him there tenderly, reverently.
Hungrily.
“Can you blame me?”
Haru’s cheeks flush a gorgeous hue, and he sputters before peeling away from Daisuke’s with a pout. He works a comb through his hair and examines its fluff, as if looking for an excuse. (It doesn’t work.) “I just showered.”
Daisuke follows, this time sidling up behind Haru in front of the mirror, his hands wandering over the expanse of Haru’s toned, firm chest. His fingertips dance along the dips and curves of his muscles, circling over his lingering scars, and he sucks a constellation of soft hickeys into Haru’s shoulder, teeth catching against the skin each time he lingers in making a mark. They lock gazes in the mirror, and Haru knows from the predatory glint in Daisuke’s eyes that there’s no escaping him now; he resigns to just having to shower again later.
“When has that ever stopped me before?”
Daisuke finally coaxes Haru to turn around and when he does, gives him no time to think before he’s capturing his lips in a searing kiss; his lips are hot like fire, and Haru chases after the heat with a muffled whimper.
They’re all desperate moans and wandering hands, stumbling across their bedroom suite until Daisuke finally pushes Haru up against the floor-to-ceiling window, his bare skin colliding with the glass with a startling thump. They jolt away from each other for a split second, dissolving into a fit of quiet laughter before Daisuke cranes his neck to press another kiss to Haru’s lips.
When their lips touch for a second time, Haru surges forward with renewed purpose, arms enveloping Daisuke’s frame in a firm embrace. The kiss, though slightly clumsy, fans their flickering sparks of passion into a wild flame; when it engulfs the two of them, their only option is to let it burn. Daisuke pins Haru against the window with a muffled groan and he breaks the kiss only to speak, keeping his forehead pressed against his. "I want you," he breathes, "right here, pressed against the window while I fuck you. Do you want that?"
Haru whines, and it’s all the confirmation he needs.
Their third kiss is more calculated, though no less dizzying than the last, and Daisuke wastes little time in tracing his lips along Haru’s jawline and neck, sucking a string of hickeys into his glowing, sun-kissed skin. Haru tips his head back with a trembling groan, hands sliding up Daisuke’s chest, hurrying to unbutton his silk dress shirt and throw the thing to some forgotten corner of the room. Pleased with the newly exposed skin, Haru lets his nails drag across Daisuke’s chest; just enough to leave a lingering mark for a few hours. He grinds his hips against Daisuke’s, another whine slipping past his lips from the delicious friction against his already half-hard cock.
Daisuke, on the other hand.
Haru’s hand slides down his front to cup the tent in his trousers and is flattered – but still no less surprised – to find how hard he already is, straining against the front of his pants. He pulls away from the kiss with a hum, his breath hot against Daisuke’s lips when he whispers against him.
“Daisuke- ah, ah, wait, you’re so hard, let me—”
They pull away and Haru’s hands soon make quick work of Daisuke’s trousers, the gold buckle of his belt clattering against the floor when he finally pushes them down. When Daisuke kicks them aside, Haru presses a sweet, lingering kiss to Daisuke’s lips before making his slow descent to his knees. He kisses his neck, his chest; swirls his tongue around Daisuke’s nipple, sucks a pattern of vibrantly red marks into the flawless alabaster of his skin before finally reaching where he most wants to be.
Haru kisses his thighs, eyes flitting up to meet his gaze while he purposely avoids putting his mouth on him. Not just yet.
“Haru,” comes the warning. “Don’t tease.”
“Oh, but you can do it to me?” Haru chuckles, wrapping a delicate hand around Daisuke and slowly, almost torturously so, jerking him off. “Let me have my fun.”
Daisuke huffs, but obliges regardless because he’s too engrossed in the sight of Haru on his knees in front of him, in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window to their penthouse suite. It’s the stuff of his wildest fantasies, and though he knows it’s unlikely anyone can see up to the 80th floor, he entertains the thought and curses under his breath just as Haru’s lips circle the head of his cock and take him in.
Daisuke’s cock is hot, thick, and heavy against Haru’s tongue, and he moans wantonly the deeper he takes it into his mouth. He stops briefly when the head touches the back of his throat, lingering because Daisuke loves the feeling of his throat stretching to accommodate him. When Haru takes him in his mouth a second time, Haru doesn’t stop until his nose is buried in soft, dark curls and Daisuke groans.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth?” he drawls, gently raking his fingers through Haru’s hair. He thrusts shallowly into his mouth, letting Haru control the pace but still chasing after the intoxicating warmth of his mouth around his full length.
Haru draws back and then drags his tongue over the underside of Daisuke’s cock, tongue flicking just below the slit. “All the time,” he quips, with a coquettish grin. Daisuke laughs.
He continues until Daisuke’s hips stutter and buck into his mouth, but Haru pulls away entirely just before Daisuke can finish, instead pressing butterfly kisses into the soft, supple flesh of his thighs instead.
“You’re cruel,” Daisuke huffs, guiding Haru back up to his feet to kiss him. Haru smiles against his lips, catching Daisuke’s lower lip between his teeth when he pulls away.
“No, I just don’t want you to come yet.”
Something in Daisuke flips and he surges forward to catch Haru’s lips in his, his hand sliding down to wrap around Haru’s cock and stroke him slowly, tugging just the way he likes and drawing out a string of moans from his lips.
“Ah- ah, Daisuke, want- inside—”
Haru can’t help but laugh to himself from the way Daisuke rushes to their bedside drawer to retrieve the small bottle of lube, fumbling with the cap to coat his fingers in it. He kisses him again when he returns, firmly pressing Haru’s back against the glass with the weight of his body.
“Lift your leg up for me,” he instructs, and Haru swings one of his legs around Daisuke’s waist, giving him complete access to the place he wants the most.
Daisuke brings his slicked fingers down to circle lazily around Haru’s rim, reveling in the way it makes his knees buckle and hips jerk. The first pushes inside with little resistance, as does the second, and Daisuke sets a steady pace of thrusting his fingers that’s enough to drive Haru halfway to madness. He knows just exactly what he likes, where he likes it, and as much as Haru appreciates his lover’s attentiveness, there’s only so much he can take before the knot in his stomach tightens, craving something more to fill him inside.
“That’s- that’s enough, c’mon, I want you to fuck me—”
Daisuke’s fingers curl. “I am fucking you.”
Haru sobs when he finds his prostate, voice dying in his throat just before he can come up with a snarky reply. “You know what I mea- ah!”
A third finger makes its way inside Haru and he’s so full it makes his vision foggy and his head spin, and Daisuke expertly presses the pads of his fingers against his prostate, sending delicious shivers up Haru’s spine that are almost enough to drive him over the edge.
Almost.
“Daisuke, Daisuke, please- inside, want your cock in me—”
“Let me have my fun,” he coos, echoing Haru’s words from earlier and never has he ever regretted opening his mouth more. Daisuke continues on until Haru’s thighs are trembling and he can barely take anymore, before withdrawing his fingers entirely and relishing in the way his hole clenches around nothing, craving the fullness that only Daisuke’s cock can give. He kisses Haru one more time, lowering his leg with a satisfied hum.
“Turn around,” he instructs, coating his dick in lube. “I want you pressed against the window when I fuck you.”
Haru shivers at the thought of being so exposed, but he does as he’s told and presses his chest flush against the window, reaching behind him to spread himself open and present himself to Daisuke. Daisuke dips his head down to kiss along the length of Haru’s spine, his cock teasing the rim of his hole for only a brief moment.
When Daisuke enters him, the noise that leaves Haru’s lips is hardly human.
It's something between a satisfied sob and a groan, something that rips itself from his throat of its own volition before he can stop it. Daisuke is all over him, everywhere at once, knocking the breath out of him as he presses further, taking special care in being slow. With another cry, he leans forward to press a sweet kiss against his lips as he continues, going deeper, deeper, deeper-
“Move, Daisuke," Haru whines, a string of curses leaving him once he's finally buried completely inside him, all the way to the hilt. He can feel everything of Daisuke’s cock there is to feel -- the heat engulfing the both of them, the slow, pulsating feeling from where they're joined, though he doesn’t know from where it originates; just that it feels good. There’s a dull throb inside him as he pushes just a little deeper, pressing against a delicious bundle of nerves Haru hadn't even known existed. "Please, please, move-"
Daisuke doesn’t need to be told twice; he draws his hips back slowly, almost torturously so, before snapping forward and drawing out another blissful cry from Haru’s lips. He repeats the motion once, twice more before deciding to set this pace for a while, wanting to focus more on just making Haru feel good.
“How does it—ah—feel, Haru?” he asks, grabbing firmly onto Haru’s hips as his thrusts become more intense, the obscenely erotic sound of their hips slapping echoing around their suite. “Do you like the way my cock feels in you?”
“Da- ah, ah! So good, Daisuke, it’s so good, fuck!"
Haru’s palms rest flat against the glass window, his mind blanking pure white each time Daisuke’s cock brushes against his prostate, pressing firmly against the delicate bundle of nerves. He feels so unbelievably full around him, the pleasure building and collapsing around him so maddeningly good that he can’t manage a single thought beyond Daisuke.
Daisuke consumes every part of him he has to give – and he lets him.
“Too much—Daisuke, ‘s too much, I’m gonna—”
Daisuke’s hips slow to a near halt, and the noise that leaves Haru’s lips is some pathetic resemblance of a desperate sob. He makes a sound of approval, fingertips ghosting over the line of Haru’s back and relishing in how he arches beautifully towards him. Just for him.
“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”
Daisuke carefully slides himself almost completely out of Haru, watching with a low groan how his puffy, pink rim stretches around the girth of his cock, as if trying desperately to keep him buried deep inside, right where he belongs. Haru sobs, a pathetic thing, limbs shaking and knocking against the glass from the exertion of holding himself up.
“Please, Daisuke, I’m so close- please just let me—“
He delivers a harsh slap to Haru’s ass, and then another for good measure. When Haru’s fallen lax against the glass, Daisuke slams back into him with a distinct roughness that has Haru’s head reeling from pleasure. His cock slides over nerve endings and buzz and hum from the overwhelming pleasure with each dizzying thrust, before driving home and burying every inch of him inside Haru so deeply that it forces tears to his eyes.
Head falling into Haru’s shoulder, Daisuke groans, his breath hot against Haru’s skin the entire time he whispers obscenities against him. There’s a split second when Haru feels the corners of Daisuke’s lips curve upward into a dangerous grin just before pushing back impossibly deep inside him, wrenching yet another desperate cry from his lips.
“Daisuke! Yes, yeah-ahh, ah, just like that, yes, yes-!”
“If only you knew how pretty you look,” Daisuke drawls, “spread open for me against the window.
“Mine for the taking.”
Haru tosses his head back with a moan, the idea alone being almost enough to drive him over the edge. The tips of his ears all the way down to his cheeks, and down further still to his collarbone is flushed a gorgeous cerise hue. Daisuke can’t resist dipping his head down to bite down on Haru’s shoulder just as he thrusts deep.
“Give me your hands,” Daisuke says, firm and commanding that it elicits a shiver down Haru’s spine. He does as he’s told.
Daisuke pulls away for just long enough to pick up his long-forgotten tie from the ground, and delicately ties Haru’s wrists together. The knot is simple, though strong enough to keep his wrists in place. He tests their strength briefly and gives a lingering, sweet kiss to the nape of Haru’s neck.
“Okay?”
Haru looks back to meet Daisuke’s gaze, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Okay.”
Daisuke offers him a tender smile and another kiss to the tip of his nose, before grabbing his hips and sliding back inside with a relieved groan. Haru is tight and warm and wet around his cock, enveloping him entirely and barely giving him a chance to breathe.
“You’re so good, baby, you feel so good,” Daisuke pants, eyebrows knit together as he chases after his own pleasure. One of his hands slides up over Haru’s back and his fingers lace themselves in his gorgeously unkempt hair, delivering at first a soft tug to test the waters. When Haru moans wantonly, it cues Daisuke to do it again, harsher, and Haru whines.
“It’s as if you were made for my cock, you greedy thing. So good for me.”
Haru nods just as Daisuke gently squeezes the hand around his throat; just enough for Haru to feel the euphoric tingle when he teeters between consciousness and unconsciousness, and he forces out a choked-out sob for more. He wiggles his hips defiantly and Daisuke’s thrusts slow substantially, leaving Haru desperately crying for him to continue.
“Wait, you can’t- do that, or I’ll come- ah!”
Encouraged by his response, Daisuke squeezes Haru’s throat again, this time a little harder and for a little longer. Haru curses and struggles against his restraints, his muscles tensing and relaxing with each intoxicating thrust Daisuke gives.
Haru doesn’t realize he’s crying from the intensity until he feels the dampness on his cheeks, but that doesn’t stop him from sobbing, “I’m gonna- oh my God, Daisuke, Daisuke, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come!“
“That’s it, baby. Feel good for me, feel good on my cock.
All at once and as if on command, Haru’s entire world explodes into a flurry of colors, and he’s in a state of both shock and frenzy from the ecstasy of such a high. His throat aches pleasantly as he calls out for Daisuke, begging him to keep going, don’t stop, give it to him right there. Haru’s entire body tightens as he spasms around him, his head reeling as Daisuke continues on, managing to outlast him by only a few seconds before he, too, submits to his release with a guttural moan.
There’s a rush of tingling warmth all over Haru’s body when Daisuke fills him, squeezing down around his cock to milk every last drop of him that he can. They stay like that – breathless and heaving against the window – for a minute or so, enough for them to come back to their senses. Below them, the streets sing with the passing of the evening rush hour traffic and of the people shuffling into lit-up shops and restaurants against the backdrop of the sticky neon of the summer evening. Rows of skyscrapers stretch to the farthest reaches of the sky, and the moon hovers at the fringes of the luminous cityscape with an enchanting glow. Haru sinks into the muted afterglow of their lovemaking with a shaky sigh, and Daisuke pulls out of him with an obscenely wet noise.
Daisuke tilts Haru’s chin to give him a lazy kiss, which he welcomes with a tired, but satisfied hum. They’re both too out of it to say anything substantial, so they convey everything they could ever hope to say in that single gesture.
It works.
Haru somehow manages to turn back around to face Daisuke, his back against the window as he draws his beloved into his arms with a hum. “Feeling better?”
Daisuke slides his hands down to meet Haru’s, and he laces their fingers together. “Mn. You seem to have that effect on me.
It’s enough for Haru that he does, and even though he’s still quite numb in his lower half and can barely support his own weight, kisses the crown of Daisuke’s head once more before he pushes himself off the window and hobbles towards the bathroom, and briefly considers running a bath to soothe the low ache in his hips.
(Damn that man and his stamina.)
“Yeah, well, it’s thanks to you I need to go shower again. And I might not be able to walk tomorrow.”
“I think you and I both know that that’s currently the least of your concerns,” Daisuke remarks, his trademark shameless grin making a comeback as he picks up his forgotten clothes, tossing them into the hamper. Haru clicks his tongue and makes his way inside the bathroom…
…except, he stops when the door catches in his hand, and turns around to find Daisuke behind him. “…What are you doing?”
“I never said I was done with you. Get in.”
“You-!”