Hakkai shudders, at last, all over and convulsively, as if his nerves have suddenly remembered how to work.
"I couldn't give you as much as you give me," he whispers, and squeezes Jedao's hands back, equally hard. He's only a man, after all. Only a half-ruined fool, good at all the things he doesn't ever want to do again. But-- he can love Jedao. That much, he knows how to do. That he can be proud of.
"But you have all of me that I can give you. Until the stars are iron." He leans up, ignoring the way his eyes still sting and water, finds Jedao's mouth and kisses him as if he could drink him down, as if he could protect Jedao from ever having to live without him. He can't, and he knows it. But they can make a home before then. With Edwin, and... perhaps with Gojyo, too.
"You give me what I need," is all Jedao says, and he's said so much but that's the truth, right down in the marrow. Hakkai looks at him and sees someone worth loving, Hakkai who is so prickly and cautious, who notices every time, all the little ways Jedao tries to be careful, who sees him, sees the best of him. Hakkai, whose real hands are claws for not letting go, who makes Jedao want to let Hakkai take care of him.
He kisses back, and kisses back, and kisses back, easy and clear, and doesn't let himself think about the future at all; then, he'll have this moment to think about.
He's no less ashamed for it, doesn't see himself as any better... but, if he gives Jedao what he needs, at least he has the right to be here. He lets himself be lost in the kisses, lets his hands roam across Jedao's back and up under the hem of his shirt, spreads his fingers over Jedao's belly and counts the knobs of his spine.
It makes him remember that his hands are clean. Not metaphorically, but Jedao had washed them, had cleaned every particle of the real blood away after he had stopped seeing blood that wasn't there. It's all right, to touch Jedao with those hands, no matter how he might hesitate with anyone else.
Jedao shudders and gasps and moans for it, pressing into every touch, wants Hakkai's hands on him, always, always. He peels his shirt off almost without breaking the kisses, all the skin that feels so much more like his now, a few small starburst scars from when he's been shot, and a shiny racing-stripe burn down the outside of one arm from the library fire, and he shudders more when Hakkai touches them, all yearning hunger.
Hakkai keeps trading kisses with him, sweet and open: he doubts himself so often, fears being cast away or left behind by the people he--
The people he does need. The ones he doesn't want to live life without. But Jedao he can trust. Jedao would never: not because they're married, not because of any of the marks of possession Hakkai wants to draw all over him, the graffiti of bracelet and ring and little leaf shaped cuts. None of that could hold him, but he wants to be kept, and that will.
He finds Jedao's nipple, the one that had been lost under a sheet of scar tissue before, and tweaks it, just a little meanly.
"Fuck me?" he asks, soft against Jedao's mouth, and drops a little bite there, on his full lower lip.
Jedao has wanted to be kept before; he wants it as a rather foundational desperation, in fact, but that doesn't mean he'll let himself have it from just anyone who wants to keep him. He chose for Hakkai to keep him, which is a stronger order of certainty altogether.
He yelps a little, surprised by the jolt of sensation, the raw right newness of it, hips jerking against Hakkai, and then he laughs, bright silly delight that Hakkai can play on him so easily.
"Yes, love," he promises, working on Hakkai's clothes.
Hakkai wriggles, only sort of helpfully, as Jedao gets the last of his shirt buttons open; he kicks his pants off, taking every opportunity to press close against him, to kiss the places on his shoulders that aren't scarred anymore, to nibble his way along Jedao's collarbone. He doesn't bother taking off his shirt, leaving it open and puddled around his torso as his hands explore and caress.
He's smiling in echo of Jedao's laugher, more relief than anything else, although it's not without joy.
"I love you," he murmurs, lifting his hands to frame Jedao's waist - slighter than it had been, his build a little leaner as his body shifts subtly younger to match his mind. "Every inch of you, for always."
It's a look that Jedao is extremely into, and he kisses Hakkai's sternum on his way down, settling where he can pull one of Hakkai's legs over his shoulder to get him ready.
"I love you," he answers back, stroking the long, strong line of his thigh a few times while he floats the lube over from its drawer. "I'm going to be so good to you. And keep you."
"I should deck you out in gold and garnets," Jedao suggests, eyes laughing-bright, mouth warm with grinning as he presses his fingers inside, knowing and steady. "Come home to you lounging around waiting for me."
Hakkai chuckles, breathless, as he cants his hips up for Jedao.
"Jade is more my color," he teases, voice dipping from breathy to a lower rumble. "I could steal that robe of yours and lay about in an open robe and expensive jewelry, however you like me...."
He'd last five minutes of laying about being decorative before he had to get up and scrub a toilet to make himself feel useful, and Jedao surely knows it as well as he does, but it's a charming image.
"But garnets are my color," Jedao points out, groaning softly in appreciation for the image of Hakkai in his robe like that, leaning over to kiss Hakkai's chest as he works his fingers in faster, deeper.
"Then I'll wear your garnets," Hakkai agrees, breathless as he lets his head fall back to bare the long line of his neck. Perhaps in that future, he'd wind up taking over the household if he tried to be a kept man. In this moment he's only too glad to surrender control, to open under the slick pressure of Jedao's fingers and groan as the faster pace stokes the heat growing in his belly.
"And I'll-- buy you jade-- come here, come here," he demands, one hand finding Jedao's hair to drag him up for a proper kiss.
Jedao feels feral looking at Hakkai's neck, and he cups one hand on Hakkai's thigh as he moves, right under the knee, shifts it up, pulls and presses, holding him open. He lets Hakkai guide them into the kiss, eager and messy, groaning as he lines himself up to press in.
Hakkai exhales on a long groan of his own as Jedao presses in, kissing him fiercely. His teeth scrape over Jedao's lower lip, catch and bite for a moment before his mouth goes open and pliant again, and he presses his foot against Jedao's ribs, cants his hips up so that they move together.
He doesn't know how Gojyo will react tomorrow, doesn't know if he can have his old family and his new one. But he doesn't want to lose anyone else without trying.
And at least he knows he has Jedao, no matter what happens.
Jedao moans into the kiss and rocks forward, squeezing Hakkai's thigh as he fucks in harder, fast and deep. He wants Hakkai to feel it for days, wants to give it to him so roughly it rattles the worry off his ribs.
The worry might be in Hakkai's bones, and not just on them: but he can forget it like this, can let himself be swept up in Jedao's rhythm until the heat between their bodies burns everything else away. He clenches his hand in Jedao's hair, knuckles white, and moves with each thrust to take him deeper.
Lust shakes him, building hot and low in his belly with the sweet burn of almost-too-much; his hamstrings ache as he crosses his ankles at the small of Jedao's back, his cock aches heavy against his thigh, streaking Jedao's belly with beads of leaking precome. He loves it, wants more of it, knows he will feel it for days as endorphins glitter through his bloodstream.
"Could you come like this?" Jedao growls, low between panted breaths, all in rhythm, low and close before nipping at Hakkai's earlobe. "Just like this. Just for me."
"Maybe-- I don't know--" Hakkai's response is gasped all out of rhythm, snatched gulps of speech. He yearns up towards Jedao's body, hips tilting up a fraction more. The next thrust hits just right, deep and perfect and fountaining pleasure up his spine like a firework.
His words fall apart into a cry of pleasure as he loses his shaky grip on language, and his body bucks and shivers under Jedao's, weighted down and taken, remade for pleasure instead of pain. He can come like this, he's sure he can, he wants to do as he's asked with a blissful desperation that he knows will embarrass him later-- and, even knowing better, he can't bring himself to care.
"Please," he gasps, not knowing what he's begging for. "Please-- harder--"
Hold him until he bruises, fuck him until he aches, bite him to bleeding: anything, harder, all of it.
Hakkai's reaction drives Jedao feral. He slams in again, keeping that same angle, biting him in sharp, cascading bites: his ear, his jaw, his throat.
"Mine," he growls, nails digging in hard as he grips Gonou's thigh, breathless and almost mindless. He half wants to tear Hakkai apart, like a dog with a favorite toy; he wants to leave toothmarks on all his bones. He presses with gravity, adding that little bit more to the strain of his own weight holding Hakkai apart, holding him down, so that couldn't get away, even if he wanted to, pinned, pierced, pressed, kept.
He's gasping and chanting, biting on every thrust, pressing the word into the abused skin every time he pulls back, like Hakkai is enough for him to live on, a substitute for breathing. "Mine, mine, mine -"
Hakkai cries out wordlessly as Jedao's teeth close on the skin of his throat, the sound stuttering with the force of his need: his hips yearn upwards into each thrust. Harder, more-- his hands fall to the sheets, gripping with desperate strength, and then he feels the weight press down against his body. Jedao's power pins him to the mattress, holds him still with the ease of a hand pinning a kitten, and he cries out again.
His voice breaks into a wail this time, as his body tries and fails to arch from the mattress: he's helpless, pinned perfectly where Jedao wants him, he doesn't have to--
Tension drains from his body abruptly, leaving him pliant in Jedao's hands. He shudders against each perfect thrust, each sting of teeth, time spinning out like hot sugar. When he comes between them untouched, it's the hardest he ever remembers coming in his life.
Jedao fucks him savagely through it; when he comes himself, ragged and ferocious, he imagines it feels like dying. He imagines he's been clinging onto the shreds of himself with his fingernails and they've finally torn out, the blazing agony-intensity of pleasure indescribable by any saner comparison.
He loses control of the push at the same time he loses control of the rest, and then it's only Jedao's own weight again holding Hakkai down, both of them completely boneless, shuddering and gasping in a soft heavy heap.
When the heavy force of Jedao's power spirals to nothing, it leaves Hakkai weightless in its absence: he's breathing in shuddery gulps of air, open and aching and scraped clean as a vanilla bean on its third dish. For a long time -- or, at least, it feels like a long time -- he floats there, Jedao's weight collapsed over him the only thing that keeps him from bobbing up to the ceiling and drifting away.
Eventually, he lifts one arm, marveling at its limp weight, and slings it across Jedao's shoulders to hold him close.
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Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"I couldn't give you as much as you give me," he whispers, and squeezes Jedao's hands back, equally hard. He's only a man, after all. Only a half-ruined fool, good at all the things he doesn't ever want to do again. But-- he can love Jedao. That much, he knows how to do. That he can be proud of.
"But you have all of me that I can give you. Until the stars are iron." He leans up, ignoring the way his eyes still sting and water, finds Jedao's mouth and kisses him as if he could drink him down, as if he could protect Jedao from ever having to live without him. He can't, and he knows it. But they can make a home before then. With Edwin, and... perhaps with Gojyo, too.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
He kisses back, and kisses back, and kisses back, easy and clear, and doesn't let himself think about the future at all; then, he'll have this moment to think about.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
It makes him remember that his hands are clean. Not metaphorically, but Jedao had washed them, had cleaned every particle of the real blood away after he had stopped seeing blood that wasn't there. It's all right, to touch Jedao with those hands, no matter how he might hesitate with anyone else.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
The people he does need. The ones he doesn't want to live life without. But Jedao he can trust. Jedao would never: not because they're married, not because of any of the marks of possession Hakkai wants to draw all over him, the graffiti of bracelet and ring and little leaf shaped cuts. None of that could hold him, but he wants to be kept, and that will.
He finds Jedao's nipple, the one that had been lost under a sheet of scar tissue before, and tweaks it, just a little meanly.
"Fuck me?" he asks, soft against Jedao's mouth, and drops a little bite there, on his full lower lip.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
He yelps a little, surprised by the jolt of sensation, the raw right newness of it, hips jerking against Hakkai, and then he laughs, bright silly delight that Hakkai can play on him so easily.
"Yes, love," he promises, working on Hakkai's clothes.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
He's smiling in echo of Jedao's laugher, more relief than anything else, although it's not without joy.
"I love you," he murmurs, lifting his hands to frame Jedao's waist - slighter than it had been, his build a little leaner as his body shifts subtly younger to match his mind. "Every inch of you, for always."
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"I love you," he answers back, stroking the long, strong line of his thigh a few times while he floats the lube over from its drawer. "I'm going to be so good to you. And keep you."
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"I've always wanted to be a kept man," he says, laughter in his voice.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"Jade is more my color," he teases, voice dipping from breathy to a lower rumble. "I could steal that robe of yours and lay about in an open robe and expensive jewelry, however you like me...."
He'd last five minutes of laying about being decorative before he had to get up and scrub a toilet to make himself feel useful, and Jedao surely knows it as well as he does, but it's a charming image.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"And I'll-- buy you jade-- come here, come here," he demands, one hand finding Jedao's hair to drag him up for a proper kiss.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
He doesn't know how Gojyo will react tomorrow, doesn't know if he can have his old family and his new one. But he doesn't want to lose anyone else without trying.
And at least he knows he has Jedao, no matter what happens.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
moves with each thrust to take him deeper.
Lust shakes him, building hot and low in his belly with the sweet burn of almost-too-much; his hamstrings ache as he crosses his ankles at the small of Jedao's back, his cock aches heavy against his thigh, streaking Jedao's belly with beads of leaking precome. He loves it, wants more of it, knows he will feel it for days as endorphins glitter through his bloodstream.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
His words fall apart into a cry of pleasure as he loses his shaky grip on language, and his body bucks and shivers under Jedao's, weighted down and taken, remade for pleasure instead of pain. He can come like this, he's sure he can, he wants to do as he's asked with a blissful desperation that he knows will embarrass him later-- and, even knowing better, he can't bring himself to care.
"Please," he gasps, not knowing what he's begging for. "Please-- harder--"
Hold him until he bruises, fuck him until he aches, bite him to bleeding: anything, harder, all of it.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
"Mine," he growls, nails digging in hard as he grips Gonou's thigh, breathless and almost mindless. He half wants to tear Hakkai apart, like a dog with a favorite toy; he wants to leave toothmarks on all his bones. He presses with gravity, adding that little bit more to the strain of his own weight holding Hakkai apart, holding him down, so that couldn't get away, even if he wanted to, pinned, pierced, pressed, kept.
He's gasping and chanting, biting on every thrust, pressing the word into the abused skin every time he pulls back, like Hakkai is enough for him to live on, a substitute for breathing. "Mine, mine, mine -"
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
His voice breaks into a wail this time, as his body tries and fails to arch from the mattress: he's helpless, pinned perfectly where Jedao wants him, he doesn't have to--
Tension drains from his body abruptly, leaving him pliant in Jedao's hands. He shudders against each perfect thrust, each sting of teeth, time spinning out like hot sugar. When he comes between them untouched, it's the hardest he ever remembers coming in his life.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
He loses control of the push at the same time he loses control of the rest, and then it's only Jedao's own weight again holding Hakkai down, both of them completely boneless, shuddering and gasping in a soft heavy heap.
Re: the week after Eiffel leaves
Eventually, he lifts one arm, marveling at its limp weight, and slings it across Jedao's shoulders to hold him close.