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It wasn’t like Hanawa didn’t know it was wrong. His face burned, constantly aware of his wrongdoing, but already too far gone to stop.
At first it was an accident. He was going to speak to Kiryu, but he wasn’t in his room, like he expected. Instead, Hanawa was greeted by a pile of neglected dirty laundry. The room smelled like Kiryu, that smell that always made him take a step closer to him when they talked. It felt irresistible, so wrong, but so infinitely tempting. He picked up that first pair of underwear with sweat beading at his temples, looking around like someone might have seen what he did. Except no one was around, and whatever he wanted to talk to Kiryu about could wait until tomorrow.
Hanawa hated how the shame made him so hard he could barely walk home. He hated to think about how far he had fallen, and especially hated to think about what had become of the man he used to adore. Who he still adored. So it was easier this way, misery turned into obsession, professionalism nothing, but a lie, when every night one of his hands clutched a pair of Kiryu’s dirty clothes, so shamefully taken from his room, the other working on his dick furiously, to get it over with fast, to not have to think about it any longer than necessary.
Unfortunately for him, this little game has become what kept him going lately, the obsession taking root, digging its claws deep under his skin. He had a rhythm going, he knew Kiryu’s schedule, he knew everything about him, and with routine, he became less and less anxious over getting caught.
Ultimately, that was exactly what became his downfall.
Kiryu’s room was cleaner than usual when he walked in to swoop around. It wasn’t laundry day, Hanawa knew that, otherwise he wouldn’t have come and invaded Kiryu's privacy like this. His cheeks still burned with shame, knowing Kiryu would probably never forgive him if he knew, still, like he was possessed, he crouched down, trying to peek under the dresser. Jackpot. He had to kneel to reach under, until he could finally grab a hold of the fabric.
The floorboards creaked and Hanawa’s blood froze. The breath he was going to exhale got stuck right there in his throat, unable to move.
Maybe if he thought about it hard enough, those same floorboards would open up and let the earth swallow him. Or by some kind of miracle, the person standing behind him wasn’t Kiryu and he could strike up a deal of never telling anyone about this.
The man behind him cleared his throat, making it painfully clear that Hanawa had been caught red-handed by Kiryu himself. Hanawa still couldn’t move, stuck with his hand clutching onto the pair of boxers, kneeling in front of Kiryu’s dresser. He slowly let go, dropping the fabric back onto the floor, thoughts running through every single way he could apologize for this, or excuses he could make.
When he turned around, Kiryu was standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable as usual, sunglasses pushed on top of his head.
“K–Joryu–” he started, a part of him hoping that Kiryu didn’t notice what he had been holding and he could explain somehow why exactly he was on his knees in his bedroom.
“Hanawa-san, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, nonchalantly, almost strangely so. It made Hanawa squirm, no reasonable thoughts forming in his head. The worst part was that Kiryu smelled so good when he took a step closer.
“I…I’m sorry,” Hanawa managed to finally say, simply unable to look into Kiryu’s eyes.
“Weren’t you going to grab that for me?” Kiryu asked, which wasn’t even close to what Hanawa was expecting him to say. It made him finally look up to meet his eyes, only now noticing that he was smiling. Subtly, but it was there in the corner of his eyes, amused.
“What?”
Kiryu nodded towards the dresser, leaving him with no choice, but to turn around and grab the pair of underwear. Maybe humiliation was exactly what he deserved for this, he wasn’t going to run from that. He fished the pair of black boxers out from under the dresser, turning around with it in his hands.
“Why did you think I wouldn’t notice half of my wardrobe missing? Is that how little you think of me, Hanawa?” Kiryu asked. The strangest thing was that he didn’t seem to be angry. There was still that little glimpse of amusement in his eyes, looking more alive than he had in weeks of meditating all alone. It made it even harder for Hanawa to reason.
“I didn’t, I don’t…” Hanawa mumbled, still wishing the earth would open a hole to swallow him up. Send him straight to hell.
Kiryu crouched down in front of him, taking the underwear out of his hands. “You’re the last person I would think would do something like this. Isn’t that interesting?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you do this with everyone, or just me?”
“Just you,” Hanawa whispered.
Kiryu’s expression remained unchanged, only that slight amusement in the corner of his eyes.
“Could have just said so, if you wanted something from me. It’s not like I'm in a position to resist,” Kiryu said, the statement making Hanawa’s stomach give a painful flip. He wouldn’t have wanted to take advantage of him, even if what he did wasn’t equally as creepy. “Or is this what you like?” Kiryu continued, “the shame? Sneaking around?”
He was so close to his face now, Hanawa was overwhelmed by his scent, the musk in the crook of his neck and the earthy cedar wood of his skin. There was no sinking any deeper into obsession with it, He was already neck deep, could barely breathe.
So he nodded, honestly.
“Knew it. We all have something to hide around here, hm?” Kiryu said, placing a hand on Hanawa’s chest to push him back against the dresser. He could surely feel how fast his heart was beating, as it reflected on his face. Slight surprise, excitement. His gaze stayed on Hanawa’s face while he reached for his belt, undoing it with ease.
Still in disbelief, Hanawa could only stare, taking anything Kiryu might give him, even though he wanted nothing more than to sink his nails into his skin, to pull him close and inhale that heavenly scent, relishing in the shame of it.
To no one’s surprise, he was already hard when Kiryu unzipped his fly and took his dick out into his hand. Hanawa shivered, unable to take his eyes off Kiryu’s face now, the way he was looking at him. He wanted to know what Kiryu was thinking, if he was disgusted with him, lost all respect, but it was impossible to read.
Still holding the underwear in his hand, Kiryu wrapped it around his dick, squeezing around the base. “Is this what you do with my dirty stuff?” he asked, straddling Hanawa’s thighs, his closeness nearly burning.
Hanawa nodded, just as Kiryu started moving his hand, torturously slowly. He couldn’t take his eyes off it, the dirty fabric wrapped around his dick, just like he would do it at home, except this time under the full control of Kiryu himself. How many times did he imagine exactly this? Kiryu’s hand on him, his breath on his neck. He couldn’t restrain himself from reaching out and wrapping an arm around Kiryu’s middle, pulling him closer. He let his forehead fall on his shoulder, eyes still locked onto the sight between them.
His face burned more than it ever did before, from the fact that he was getting off on this, so ashamed that he couldn’t even find the strength to make excuses and leave.
Kiryu quickened his movements, dragging the dirty underwear over his aching dick, letting it collect the beads of precum leaking from the tip, adding to the mess of it. It was rough, almost hurtfully so, making Hanawa pant against the other man’s shoulder, struggling to keep his eyes open.
“You’re so messy, Hanawa-san,” Kiryu whispered. “Kneeling on my floor, digging for my dirty clothes. Didn’t even try to make excuses for it. Does that feel good?”
Hanawa couldn’t stop a deep groan from slipping past his lips. His head buzzed, sweat beading at his temples from every word Kiryu spoke.
“Tell me, I want to hear it,” Kiryu asked, his voice faltering a bit, breathy in a way Hanawa didn't expect.
“Y-yes,” Hanawa managed, burying his face further into Kiryu’s shoulder, “I can’t help it, I’m sorry,” he choked on the words, his throat feeling too tight all of a sudden. He didn’t want Kiryu to hate him.
Fastening the pace, Kiryu squeezed his hand, making the fabric drag even rougher against his skin. Hanawa’s fingers sunk into his skin, finding their way under his shirt, wanting nothing more than to touch all over. He was already so close, choking back his moans trying not to look even more pathetic than he already did. He forced his eyes open to look down again, at the mess he was making of Kiryu’s boxers, the sight enough to push him over the edge. Tears burned the corners of his eyes, chest tight and heavy as the pleasure crawled up his spine, settling over his shoulders, weighing him down.
He wanted to say something, apologize, but all that came out was a broken moan, his hips twitching and bucking upwards as he came, spilling all over the underwear and Kiryu’s hand.
The orgasm left his head feeling fuzzy, his grip on Kiryu growing even tighter, not wanting to let go just yet, when he had finally gotten a taste. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, only now noticing that he was already crying. It felt like a bad trip, high on Kiryu, yet unable to ignore the humiliation.
Please don’t hate me for how much I’m enjoying this.
Kiryu pulled away, getting up from Hanawa’s lap, leaving him cold and overly aware of himself. Hanawa figured he would simply leave, to give him the grace to clean up and never return. He could ask for a job change. Maybe.
“Lay down,” Kiryu instructed instead, making Hanawa finally look up.
He was still holding that pair of underwear, now stained with Hanawa's cum while he waited expectantly. When their eyes met, Kiryu's brows furrowed, pausing for a second at the sight of tears, but before he could say anything, Hanawa was already complying. His sniffle hung in the air heavily for a moment, but he said nothing, hoping Kiryu understood that his tears were not from misery.
Finally, Kiryu was straddling him again, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, as if he expected to be stopped, but why would Hanawa ever stop him? He let him take his pants and underwear fully off too, not really daring to look at him. What about him could ever be impressive to someone like Kiryu?
Hanawa hardly even noticed that he was holding his breath, until a palm was pressing against his chest, fingers dancing across old scars. Kiryu remained silent, but his touch was soft, almost admiring.
Then, Kiryu was finally undressing himself too. Watching his shirt fall from his shoulders, Hanawa wished he could see the tattoo on his back, touch it, but didn’t dare to ask. He unbuttoned his pants then, shuffling out of them quickly, right along with his underwear. For a moment Kiryu almost seemed shy, when he straddled Hanawa again, who had pushed himself up on his elbows to get a closer look. Before he could touch, Kiryu pressed him back down firmly against the futon and he had no choice but to comply.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Kiryu asked, reaching behind Hanawa’s head to grab something.
“I…no. Probably not.”
“Sick.”
Kiryu was smirking, that expression alone enough to bring Hanawa’s dick right back to life. He never wanted this to end, even if humiliation was burning his face, tears slowly drying on his cheeks.
“How long have you known?” he asked instead.
“A while,” Kiryu explained, reaching behind himself.
Hanawa wished he could see, thoughts turning into static, unable to reply, even though he had so many things to ask. Instead, he watched silently as Kiryu prepped himself, how his brows furrowed with pleasure, his mouth slightly parting. He didn’t take long. Before Hanawa could gather his thoughts and say anything, he was already grabbing the base of his cock, stopping right there, thighs flexing.
“Please,” Hanawa managed, pushing himself up again to be closer, but Kiryu still didn’t let him. Once his back was flat against the futon again, he reached for the dirty discarded boxers next to them, drawing Hanawa’s gaze to it.
“What are you begging for? Me?” he asked, before raising his hand with the underwear again, “or this?” He brought the dirty fabric to Hanawa’s throat, pressing down enough to make its presence known. It was wet and messy, making him already breathless, eyes welling up with tears again.
“Yes,” Hanawa breathed, “both, I mean–”
He couldn’t finish as Kiryu’s grip tightened around his throat the same time as he sunk down on his dick with a groan.
Fingers desperately gripping onto the sheets, Hanawa moaned. The smell of the garment and Kiryu being so tight around him was better than anything he could have imagined alone in his bedroom. It was filthy, shameful, and not at all how a superior should ever be seen. Yet he couldn’t stop moaning.
“Is this what you like?” Kiryu asked. His voice wasn’t malicious, it was teasing, breathy and gorgeous, but everything he was saying made Hanawa even more embarrassed about how much he was enjoying this. “Dirty old man,” Kiryu groaned, “so easy to get you off.”
He finally loosened his grip and Hanawa gasped to take a breath, his hands coming to grip Kiryu’s hips, hoping he would let him. He bucked his hips up, fucking into him, unable to say anything other than Kiryu’s name, tears flowing down his face freely now.
Kiryu moaned sweeter than he ever would have expected. He reached between their bodies, gripping his dick firmly with his other hand, the one on Hanawa’s throat keeping him balanced as he stroked fast. Hanawa didn’t think he could last long like this, even with having come just now.
He needed…closer. Wanted to taste Kiryu’s skin, but he was tightening his grip around his neck again and all he could do was stay still, gasping and moaning.
When he was allowed to breathe again, he tried pushing himself up once more. “Kiryu… please,” he pleaded, voice rough from being choked.
This time Kiryu didn’t push him back, instead let him sit up and wrap his arms around his waist, lips locking with his jaw, tasting sweat and soapy skin. In surprise, Kiryu let the fabric fall from his hands between their bodies. Hanawa’s kisses trailed closer, until they were begging to taste his mouth. It was Kiryu who closed the gap between them, his kiss somewhat unsure, but pressing even closer.
Hanawa drank it in, hands firmly planted on Kiryu’s hips when he started moving again, abs flexing as he bounced up and down, breaking the kiss. He picked up the underwear between their bodies, pushing Kiryu’s hand aside to instead stroke him with it, just like Kiryu did for him before.
It made him gasp, throwing his head back to expose his throat for Hanawa to kiss. He licked a long stripe up his neck, feeling his pulse flutter under his tongue. Hanawa felt so alive, his own heart beating just as fast, if not even more as he held Kiryu, helping him move, not that he needed it. His thighs were strong, flexing and relaxing with each roll of his hips.
With how good it felt, it was hard to keep up a rhythm, but Hanawa wanted nothing more than to see Kiryu cum on his dick like this, something he imagined far too many times. Perhaps a little differently, with him spread out underneath him, but this was even better.
“Hanawa–” Kiryu gasped, rolling his hips back and forth.
“Hm?” he hummed into his ear, kissing the lobe gently while his hand never stopped.
“K-keep going.”
Hanawa didn’t need to be told twice, he picked up the pace, one hand on Kiryu’s hips to keep him steady, the other stroking his dick with the already cum stained cloth, watching the way the tip peaked out every time he brought it down to squeeze the base and leaked precum on his hands.
Kiryu stopped moving for a moment, his forehead falling onto Hanawa’s shoulder, but he was so tight around him, Hanawa could barely breathe. Still, he didn’t stop, keeping up the rhythm, until Kiryu was moaning into his ear and he could feel the fabric becoming wet, soaking through and staining his hand. It made Hanawa feel almost crazed, overwhelmed with the sight.
He could hardly wait for Kiryu to come down from his orgasm before he was laying him down, still inside him as he kissed across his chest. “Can I come inside you? Please,” Hanawa begged, teeth grazing over Kiryu’s nipples. He dropped the fabric too, instead gripping his strong thighs.
Kiryu nodded, eyes half lidded, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, a sight Hanawa would never forget.
Spreading his legs, Hanawa started pounding into him, no grace, no shame. His fingers shook as they sunk into pure muscle, hips lips finding Kiryu’s again. He only lasted a few moments, groaning into Kiryu’s mouth as he came, even more powerful than the first time. It made him pant, face red from not just shame, but exhaustion now.
Not wanting to overwhelm Kiryu, he pulled away, unsure what to say or do.
Kiryu snorted when he sat up as well, picking up the now entirely messed up pair of boxers and throwing them at Hanawa. “You can keep this one. But do return the rest, I’m running out of underwear.”
Hanawa raised his brows, mostly in disbelief. “You’re not angry with me?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry,” Hanawa repeated anyway.
“Don’t be. I needed that,” Kiryu said, his voice surprisingly soft, eyes gentle when they locked despite the hazy, fucked-out look.
Something about it made Hanawa want to kiss him again, but Kiryu was already getting himself dressed, so instead he did the same, fixing his crooked glasses and hair. It felt useless to ask if Kiryu would tell anyone about this, Hanawa knew he wont, he trusted him, and it seemed like Kiryu trusted him too. What else did both of them have left?
Shamelessly, Hanawa tucked the dirty underwear into his pocket once he was fully dressed, unsure what to say.
“Did you not have a mission for me?” Kiryu asked, fully dressed now, but hair still messy, lips glossy. There was no denying what they had just done.
“No…I was only going to make a bullshit excuse for why I'm here.”
It made Kiryu laugh. “See you, then?” he asked, leaning close to leave a peck in the corner of Hanawa’s mouth.
“Yeah. I will see you,” he said, heart racing.