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“Are you okay?” Akira asks.
If he’s going to be honest, he doesn’t know if he’s okay.
Goro takes a few seconds to adjust his arm so it’s no longer squished underneath him. The dim lighting from their bedside lamp casts a golden glow on his skin, the constellation of moles on his back tempting Akira to lean forward and lick.
The thing is—the thing is if he moves now, he thinks he’ll come embarrassingly quickly, and he wants this moment to last, since it’s their first time and all.
It’d been busy around their apartment for the past few weeks. Akira had been working his various part-time jobs, helping Futaba move into her university dorm while consoling Sojiro, who’d insisted he was fine to then sulk in the tiny kitchen of Leblanc for hours, studying for his upcoming exams, and trying to keep up a semblance of a social life.
Goro had been interviewing for internships while keeping up his studies too. His second choice had invited him back for additional interviews, so it seemed promising, but Akira couldn’t help worrying when Goro came back from each one looking more and more haggard.
To get to the point, Akira had been pent up. Any sexual release had to come from his own hand, given that he and Goro hadn’t been able to sync up when they felt active vs when they felt too tired to lift a single finger. And while imagining Goro’s o-face was pretty great, it didn't match up to the real thing.
Pretending the hand on his dick was Goro’s rather than his own led to pretending his lubed up hand was Goro’s mouth led to wondering what it’d be like to bury himself into the heat of Goro’s body.
That had led to one of the quickest jack-off sessions of his life. He’s not embarrassed to admit it when Goro’s as hot as he is.
Anyways, after their exams, after Goro had come back from what seemed like the final interview (one of the interview panelists passed on that she had a good feeling about his candidacy to the professor that had recommended Goro), and after they’d sleepily made out in bed when they should’ve gone to sleep at least an hour ago, Akira had mumbled his curiosity in trying penetrative sex.
Goro, who’d been scratching at Akira’s scalp in the most satisfying way, had frozen so abruptly that Akira’s stomach had dropped instantly. He’d scrambled for some way to take it back when Goro had said, “I’ve been considering it too.”
Which is why Akira’s currently bracing over Goro’s shuddering form, trying to get his own hammering heart to calm down.
He’s not even fully in. They make this look way easier in movies.
“Goro?” he says, ignoring the way his voice cracks.
“I’m fine,” Goro says. It comes out steady enough. Akira kind of wishes they tried missionary now, just so he could see if Goro’s as affected as he is. If he’s the only one losing his mind here, then he isn’t going to hear the end of it for a long time.
“Okay.” Akira clears his throat to cover his groan. “Great. I’m good too.”
He isn’t.
“Just give me—a couple seconds.”
He’ll need at least a minute, tops.
Goro shifts while Akira’s trying to get used to the overwhelming heat around his cock, and it makes him sink in further than he’s prepared for.
“Sh-shit,” he says at the same time Goro lets out a loud moan. Akira blinks hard at the sound—let out involuntarily, he’s guessing, since Goro’s slapping a hand over his own mouth—and wills all his focus on not coming as he pushes forward.
The choked gasp that follows lets him temporarily forget his premature ejaculation dilemma, and he continues pushing in, dropping his forehead into the dip between Goro’s shoulder blades once he’s fully buried.
“Goro. Gorooo,” he slurs, kissing and rubbing his cheek against the plane of Goro’s broad back and shoulders. They’re always so smooth, belying the corded muscle underneath, and Akira never tires of squeezing them with his hands. They move under his lips as Goro tries and fails to prop himself up on his elbows.
“What?” Goro snaps and then immediately breathes in shakily when Akira pulls out an inch. He looks back, hair tossing and falling seamlessly around his neck. The glare sent Akira’s way hasn’t been threatening for years, and at this point, Akira’s pretty sure Goro knows it turns him on.
Akira pulls out a bit more, breathes, doesn’t let himself listen to Goro’s hitched gasps too hard, and pushes back in slowly. The sounds Goro keeps making are pushing him closer to the edge, but he has to ignore them—concentrate on sliding in, breathe, then slide back out.
He nearly collapses when Goro clenches around him. If he thought he was tight before—
With steadier hands than he feels, he grips onto Goro’s hips as an anchor and rubs circles into them with his thumbs, squeezing them gently as he adjusts and Goro’s moans quiet down.
“I'm going to move again, okay?”
Goro doesn’t say anything, but Akira sees his head bob up and down and he figures that’s a yes. Keeping his hands splayed over Goro’s skin, he leans forward and slowly buries himself to the hilt again.
Okay. Okay. It feels less like he’s going to come at any moment. He can do this.
Staying fully in, he gives an experimental thrust and is rewarded with a whimper. He does it again, groaning when Goro pushes back at the same time.
“Akira,” he hisses.
“Yeah?” Akira slides forward so he’s laying on Goro’s back. He nips at Goro’s ear, kisses the corner of his mouth. “What is it?”
“Hold me down and fuck me already,” Goro says, turning his head and capturing Akira’s lips in a messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.
It takes Akira a moment to process his words after they break apart and he has to shake his head to break out of his daze. “I can—yeah. Yeah, alright.”
Bearing all of his weight on Goro’s body, Akira interlaces his hands with Goro’s and pushes down on them. They’re bigger than his, calloused and rough from years of bouldering and Goro not caring about appearances anymore.
If Goro wanted to, he could easily flip both of them so that Akira would be the one pinned down to the mattress. It's something he's done before, just to be a dick, trapping Akira with unrelenting grip strength. Maybe it’s this thought that causes Akira’s thrusts to get frenetic, stuttering in time to Goro’s rapid breathing, chasing that all-consuming heat.
Goro writhes in his hold, digging his fingers into the mattress, but staying beneath him still. “A-Akira—feels good.” He lets out a ragged breath, choppy ah ah ahs as Akira moves.
Akira takes a moment to indulge in his earlier temptation and uses his tongue to trace the moles on Goro’s back as he grinds into him. He’s so close, he’s so close. He just needs to make sure Goro is close too.
In his achingly horny fugue he almost misses Goro gyrating his own hips, but it dawns on him that Goro’s been humping the mattress mindlessly.
He’s going to be the death of him, genuinely this time, Akira thinks, as he pushes his hips onto Goro’s again, rolling them in tandem with his. “C’mon, honey. You’re doing so good.” He swirls his tongue around the ridges of his ear, humming when Goro shivers in response. “I’m so close. Don’t let me come by myself.”
Goro spasms underneath him, stills, and clenches around Akira as he comes. His mouth falls open on a cracked shout, and Akira grinds down as deeply as he can into that tight heat and follows suit.
When he comes back to himself, he heaves a long breath and groans as he props himself up and off Goro’s back. Once he feels less dazed, he runs his hand through Goro’s hair. “Hey, still with me?”
Goro groans too, and Akira can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. It’s still hilarious that the thing that most effectively shuts Goro up is sexing him up.
“Alright, I’m going to pull out.”
Another groan for a response, and another, another groan when Akira slides out. It’s been long enough in their relationship that Akira can interpret Goro’s garbling pretty well, but these last statements are tough to make out.
“Towel?”
“Guh—”
“I’ll bring two.”
He climbs out of bed confidently enough, then immediately flails before grabbing their bedside table as his legs give out. Holy shit.
There’s a loud snort behind him, and when he turns his head, Goro’s shaking with laughter. Leave it to him to somehow make Akira feel like the idiot when he’s the one laying butt-naked and face planted onto a pillow.
Goro’s stupid pretty face emerges with the biggest smile. “Come back before you hurt yourself,” he says and stretches an arm toward Akira.
“But—the sheets—”
“We can clean them later. Come.”
Akira snuggles up to Goro’s side, sighing when Goro throws an arm over him. He brushes the hair from his eyes to see them looking back at him intensely. “You come here often?” he says, grinning wide when Goro rolls his eyes.
“Not as often as I would like, lately.” He yawns and moves closer. “That should change soon though.”
“Yeah? That’s good. I’m not really a one-night stand kind of guy.”
“How fortunate, neither am I.”
Akira curls his hand beneath Goro’s chin, tracing the line of his jaw with his fingers. He shifts to press their foreheads together and rubs his nose against Goro’s. Their breathing slows as they exchange chaste kisses.
He drags himself back reluctantly. “C’mon. You’ll end up pissed at both of us if we don’t clean up now.”
“I’d like to see how easy it is for you to move when it’s your ass—”
Goro closes his eyes, having already anticipated the kiss, in the brief second Akira swoops back down. He pinches Akira’s nose when they separate again. “Don’t distract me.”
“Okay, okay,” Akira says, pulling him up and out of bed and catching him when he buckles on wobbly legs. They stumble to the bathroom, pushing and leaning heavily against each other the entire way.