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Chuuya loves the night. He loves walking into Mori’s office to see Yokohama’s skyline through the glass wall and seeing Mori’s smile, the crinkle of his eyes, the lines on the edges of his lips. He loves tempting Mori away from his desk with sways of hips and half-lidded eyes, loves to strip his boss from the scarf and suit and responsibility that hung heavy on his shoulders, loves to return him into a creature of flesh, twisting between the sheets in pleasure.
And yet, as much as he loves to hear Mori call his name in that little sob when he’s close, to taste the saltiness of tears, of come, the sweetness of his lips, loves to watch as his eyes blown up wide, there’s something else he loves better than the night.
The mornings. It’s the one thing he loves above all.
It’s only in mornings where he can have Mori sleep tucked under his chin, a warm weight in his arms. The sun slants over them and the messy sheets, highlighting every lashes that trembles every time Mori dreams. It’s a privilege granted to so few people that running a hand through his black hair, made copper and gold by the sunlight, is an experience almost religious.
The trust given to him from the open body, the closed eyes, fills Chuuya’s chest to the brim, it almost overflows, making him feel so full he’s near bursting. Even like this, belly up and vulnerable against any threats, his lover trusts Chuuya not to hurt him, to protect him if anyone enters their room. Mori doesn’t squirm away and tries to crack a joke when Chuuya explores his body, pressing kisses on his lips, on his skin, on his nipple, along the ridges of his pronounced ribs. How ashamed he would be at nights to receive such tenderness. He would turn back and arch along the line of Chuuya’s cock in him, letting the bow of his back distract his younger lover from the secrets and the fragility hidden beneath half-lidded eyes. At night Mori is a shadow, a lingering smoke after an exhale in the snow. He’s there and he’s not, and Chuuya’s sometimes afraid he’ll melt into the darkness when he’s not carefully observed.
But now, as morning sunlight pours from the skylight, there are no corners for shadows to huddle together. In mornings, Mori is a solid presence made of everything that makes one human.
Mori’s skin, warmed by sleep and naked from last night, he caress and kiss softly. Mori’s hair, so messy unlike the carefully controlled style of a leader, he combs with his fingers. Mori’s lips, red and parted, he kisses.
Asleep, there’s no words used to deflect, no smiles to lead Chuuya astray. The reaction of his body is honest, a small sigh when he presses down on the bruises on Mori’s hips, a perfect match for his fingers, a shiver when he flings the blanket away and bares Mori’s body to his sight.
Lovely.
Chuuya places his fingertips over Mori’s collarbone, dragging them down feather-soft to his groin. He gives Mori’s cock a small caress, not enough to wake him up, just a small whisper of pleasure that carries to his dreams, making his eyelids twitch. He traces a vein under delicate skin, down brushing past his perineum until he circles his fingers around his entrance. A small push unfurls the muscles, soft and yielding from the night before.
Chuuya murmurs soft encouragements to the nape of Mori’s neck, and reaches for the half-empty bottle of lube on the bedside table. He coats two fingers in slick and pushes them in, Mori’s flesh yielding easily for him. There’s softness and heat inside, the walls contracting when he presses down and scissors carefully, pumping them and listening to the hitches in his breathing.
With one last kiss to the back of Mori’s neck, Chuuya rises to his knees and straddles the older man. Admiring the halo of black hair and his soft skin, his elder looking so small when he’s not up and carrying the regal air worthy of a king.
Lifting one of Mori’s knee, Chuuya places it on his shoulder and lines himself up, watching intently when Mori swallows him into that tight, slick hole as with every push more of him disappears into Mori’s flesh. He sighs, skin prickling all over from the tight heat around him, not stopping until all of him is inside, throbbing with need.
He tests the water by rolling his hips in a slow circle, satisfied when all Mori does is turn his head to the side and sigh. Still, there won’t be much time until Mori wakes up, so Chuuya pulls back until his cockhead is catching on the rim and nocks Mori’s knees securely on his shoulder. Then he thrusts in as hard as he can.
Mori jerks along with his cock, breath punched out of his lungs in a small whine. The second time, the third and he trashes in bed, a hand reaching down to relieve himself from what must be a white-hot aching in his groin, burning him inside out.
The fourth, Mori’s eyes flies open. There’s no recognition in them, still half in that world of sleep and dream. His back arches and he blabbers something unintelligible, hands flying off to twist on the sheets.
“Chuu--, ya?” Mori’s hips follow his movement, body reacting even before his mind has time to catch up with what’s happening.
Chuuya leans down, folding Mori’s body into two, so he can whisper ‘good morning’ into Mori’s ear. The sound slips past bone marrow and muscles, dragging out a soft ‘a-ah…’ from Mori.
Now that he’s awake, Chuuya slows his thrusts. A slow drag out and a slow press in, letting Mori feel every inch of him, catching on the rim of his entrance, rubbing against the velvet-soft walls. Chuuya shifts his angle and Mori gasps when the shaft rubs against his prostate.
Mori’s hands clench the sheet tightly, twisting harder whenever Chuuya’s thrust wrack his body. Teetering on the edge, it was so easy to push Mori over the edge with a sharp snap of his hips, fucking straight into him, pounding his prostate until he comes with a shout.
Chuuya grunts and lowers his body, trapping the heat between them, and catches Mori’s lips with his own, kissing him deeply as he pounds in with abandon, chasing his own release. It comes to him with all the inevitability of an avalanche, sweat gleaming on the stretch of his neck as he throws his head back and groans.
Chuuya pulls out and falls beside Mori, still heaving for breath but grinning.
“Mm, good morning, Chuuya-kun.” Mori murmurs hoarsely. He curls into Chuuya’s side, tucking his head under his chin. It seems to be his favored position. Chuuya runs his hand across the other’s back, feeling the light sheen of sweat until he caves in and leans down to taste it on Mori’s shoulder.
“Good?”
“Best one yet.”
Chuuya laughs, lightly hitting Mori’s bicep. “You always say that.”
There’s a smile on Mori’s lips, pressed against his neck. “I do? You must be a very quick learner, then.”
Chuuya slips a finger under Mori’s chin and kisses him. Light and sweet, eyes closed. Mori hums into it, one hand caressing Chuuya’s red hair. They part and Chuuya is treated to the rare sight of Mori’s eyelashes fluttering as his eyes open.
A minute passes, or maybe it was ten, twenty. Chuuya doesn’t bother counting when he can lay here whole day and be content.
The peace burst like a balloon pierced by a needle when the door slams open. Like a blur of red and gold, Elise jumps up the bed and lands with a dull thump on her summoner.
“Rintarou! Pancakes! I want pancakes!” She exclaims, slapping his chest with open palms. Mori chuckles, pretending to groan at a particularly hard slap. He reaches up and pulls Elise to his chest, rolling to the side so she’s trapped in his arms.
“Mmm… five more minutes.” He murmurs into her hair.
Elise shrieks indignantly at being restrained, limbs flying and hitting wherever they can reach until Mori loosens his arms and she rolls away. Standing with her feet apart and one hand on her hip, Elise point at him, hair messy and face red from screaming. “Right now! Pancakes! Now!”
When Mori doesn’t answer with anything but a fake snore, the attitude fell off and she tugs on his wrist, whining. Chuuya watches with amusement, because he knows Mori is weak when she starts acting cute. Meeting no resistance from either Mori or the silk sheet, Elise drags him to the edge of the bed and he yawns, finally ‘waking up’.
“Ice cream! Pancakes with ice cream! Come on, Rintarou!” Elise cheers and rushes to the door as Mori sits up, combing back his black hair. He stares at her energetic dash with a fond look and stands up, grabbing a pair of pants and shirt from the floor.
“Coming, coming.” Mori walks to the doorway, hands still busy with the buttons. “You’re staying, Chuuya-kun?”
“Yeah. Be waiting until you come back.”
“Oh.” Mori huffs in amusement, glancing at him from the edge of his eyes. “What makes you think I’m coming back?”
Chuuya stretches out on the bed, knowing full well Mori finds the sight of his muscles rippling arousing. He lets the sunlight become a natural spotlight, highlighting every roll of his muscle as he arches like a cat. He catch Mori staring and smirks at his lover, putting one arm above him in a tempting gesture while reaching for his own crotch with his other.
“I can imagine a few reasons.” He purrs.
Mori stands there for another moment, appreciating the show. His focus, undivided and so sharp it feels like dancing on the edge of a blade, makes blood rushes through Chuuya’s vein, into his cock.
Elise’s voice calling from the kitchen breaks the little moment and Mori smiles, body unfreezing quickly like that never happened.
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he warns playfully and walks out.
Chuuya wakes himself up with long strokes, eyes closed to imagine those eyes still on him. He’d be ready to make proper love to his boss once he returns.
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