Futureverse

[oneblackcat]

PSL with Athena. AKA That Game With Insane Amounts of Worldbuilding.

More here later, yada yada yada.

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[crimsonmoon]

If this were any other challenge, Akaya might have given himself the same ten second time limit just to show that he can. But he’s drawing out his own twenty to their full extent for Yukimura’s benefit (or annoyance?). And he can tell it’s working, from the gleam in Yukimura’s eye.

His bracelet falls loose and to the ground but he doesn’t get to anything else before he’s tackled down to the floor with a surprised gasp. When he catches his breath, he looks at Yukimura, reaching up to touch his fingertips to his face.

“That’s too bad,” he says, cheeky.

[senseskill]

"For who, though?" Yukimura counters, undeterred. Oh, he knows this game well, and he went into the tackle fully expecting it. Give him a little credit, Akaya.

He dives down to Akaya's neck and gets started on a fierce hickey above his collar line while his hands feel out the bare skin of his waist for that special spot that drives him wild. He won't speak for Akaya, but he's not here to dally around.

[crimsonmoon]

For me...but also for you. His grin seems to say as much. Akaya isn’t above a little self-restraint to get Yukimura worked up. And whether that’s the reason why, it doesn’t really matter, he gets what he wants. He groans appreciatively as Yukimura’s mouth finds his neck, a sharp sensation that sends a deep shiver down his spine. He arches into it...and then gasps breathlessly when that hand slides across his waist, right there.

[senseskill]

Yukimura smiles into Akaya's neck at the way he gasps and moves under him. This is how it should be. This lean body, this familiar scent, these sounds of pleasure, here is where all of it belongs. With him.

He continues to suck and nibble at Akaya's neck until his mark is prominent and durable. In the meantime, he glides his hand from that spot on Akaya's stomach to his hip, down the top of one thigh and back up on the inside of it, just missing him before settling back onto his waist.

[crimsonmoon]

It’s definitely a shame he’s not naked already as Yukimura’s hand slides down his thigh, outside, inside, and just close enough to make him give a eager sound in the back of his throat. His hands move down the lean sides of Yukimura’s torso, down his back over his hips. Exploring this body like he owns it.

[senseskill]

The answered call is welcome this time. Yukimura plants a trail of kisses and suckling across Akaya's neck to the other side where he concludes with a rough bite. Like the hickey, this mark is meant to last for days.

[crimsonmoon]

Akaya hisses under his breath sharply when Yukimura bites him, his fingers digging in to that hip with equal force. For the moment, he doesn’t consider what it means to have angry red marks on his neck or why he puts them there. He’ll have plenty of time to contemplate it later, as they’re not going to fade any time soon. He hooks his leg over Yukimura’s hip, pulling him close against himself.

[senseskill]

Yukimura shifts himself just enough to get his leg pressed against Akaya's groin. He grabs a fistful of dark curls and pulls Akaya's head towards one side, better exposing his neck and jawline for another string of kisses. Yukimura wants his mouth all over him, reminding every inch of skin how it feels to be with him. The heat and electricity, the shivers of pleasure. And he wants to remember himself, exactly how he tastes, each curve of muscle and every noise he makes.

It's not so much that he's forgotten any of this. He just wants to pay special attention to it all this time, so that the memories don't fade anytime soon.

[crimsonmoon]

If he needed any reminding, it’s certainly coming back to him now, the forceful pull of Yukimura’s fist in his hair, the hot touch of his mouth that moves across his skin, the urgent press of his leg against him. Every gesture feels familiar, hungry, heated. Maybe he’s falling too easily back into this place he once knew so well, the push and pull that has always defined their relationship. The gravitation of it, unmistakable in the moment where he reaches back to grab for the thing that some might call unhealthy or obsessive.

Akaya reaches down between them curls his fingers hard around Yukimura. Twenty seconds were up a long time ago, but who’s counting anymore? There’s always the next challenge, and you can bet Akaya is ready to coax it out of him. A sound will suffice, for now.

[senseskill]

Yukimura grunts with the slightest hesitation to his body when he feels that hot touch around him. This is familiar too, the forwardness, the impatience, the curl of his hand. He wills himself not to push his hips against it.

He knows the hunger. It would be easy to surrender to it without thinking about the consequences that would be waiting at the end of it. But he won't allow this to be quick, if Akaya shows any signs of angling for instant gratification. This time is going to last. It's going to count.

He covers Akaya's collarbone with his mouth, tracing the outline of bone with his tongue to the shoulder before moving down his chest. He bathes his chest, paying special attention to the sensitive skin of his nipples. And Akaya can be damn sure that when he moves to the stomach the same kind of attention is going to that spot that Yukimura knows so well.

Has he found it, too? Yukimura isn't sure which answer would be worse.

[crimsonmoon]

A grunt is all he gets, which isn’t quite so satisfying. It doesn’t seem like Yukimura is in the mood to indulge him either, as he moves further down, out of his reach. Akaya makes a slightly impatient sound, which eventually turns into another gasp as Yukimura’s mouth shifts further and over his stomach. It sends a shiver down his spine, his fingers moving into Yukimura’s hair and fisting tightly.

[senseskill]

Sorry, Akaya. Yukimura knows it's got to be disappointing for now, but he's confident he'll be more than making up for it over the course of it all. Tonight will either be the resurrection of a relationship long thought dead or their final goodbye to this magic they shared. Either way, it deserves to be made extra special.

The only question is which outcome he's aiming for. That grip Akaya has around his hair will let go when the time comes. Can Yukimura hope for the same of the grip Akaya has around his heart?

He focuses on that lean stomach for the next couple of minutes, occasionally letting his hands glide down over the fabric of those pants that Akaya didn't quite manage to get off in time: over a hip, down a thigh, across a pocket. Finally, he pulls back and looks at Akaya's fly.

"It's too bad, but it doesn't look like I can go any lower than this," he teases. Eventually, yes, the pants will come off, but a little lighthearted penitence to pay first seems like a fair price for Akaya's mischief. And perhaps, for all that Yukimura truly believes they should savor the night for its own sake, and that pacing themselves will make the end all the more intense when they finally get there, there's also a part of him that really just wants to see Akaya get so bothered over him he can't stand it.

[crimsonmoon]

Yukimura knows exactly how to touch Akaya to get him aroused, whether with his hand caressing teasingly across his hip or with his mouth that leaves a hot trail over his skin. He’s not afraid to show it either, because what’s the point in holding back? Isn’t it already obvious how maddening it is to share a space with him again? Which is maybe why he doesn’t quite understand what Yukimura’s game is now.

He loosens his grip on his hair and runs his fingertips across Yukimura’s cheek, tilting his head so he can gaze down at him.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he says with a smirk.

[senseskill]

The gentle touch of Akaya's fingertips on his cheek is almost jarring. Has it been that long since he felt it? Yukimura looks up to meet those eyes, the knowing smirk, and he feels a renewed swell of affection for this impossible troublemaker whose life has intertwined with his own since all the way back to junior high.

"That's correct. God himself couldn't keep me from this." Which was to affirm in this flirting banter that it was his choice not to give that to Akaya yet, and being called out on it wasn't changing his mind.

He clasps his hand around Akaya's extended wrist in a light grip and seeks out its partner with his other to clasp their hands together. Yukimura turns his face in, nuzzling the surprisingly sensitive skin of the inner wrist. He tongues it briefly, a prelude to his shift to Akaya's palm and fingertips. Starting at the pinky, he takes each digit into his mouth and spends an agonizingly long minute sucking lightly.

At the same time, his fingers play with Akaya's other hand, tickling traces of the palm and fingertips.

[crimsonmoon]

All right, then. They’ll do it his way, for now. Akaya exhales as he feels Yukimura’s lips graze over his wrist and palm, and sucks his breath back in sharply as his finger slides into his hot mouth, one followed by another.

He can draw it out as long as he wants. Sometimes it can be like this, breathlessly slow. Whatever sound or shiver Yukimura wants, he’ll give him willingly. What he’ll demand in return, is yet to come.

[senseskill]

Akaya seems to have acquiesced for now. Yukimura has a feeling he's not heard the last of him, but that's something they can address when the time comes. For now, he starts another trail of tasting kisses at the inside of his wrist. He follows the line of a blood vessel up Akaya's forearm to the inside of the elbow, another area with a surprising number of nerve endings. This path takes him over the inside of the bicep and just along the edge of the armpit to the start of the pectoral. Back to where it began.

He finally tugs indicatively at the hem of Akaya's pants for him to lift his hips so this obstacle can come off.

[crimsonmoon]

As Yukimura’s mouth travels up his arm, he tenses and relaxes it in turn, each brush of lips and tongue sending a subtle, erotic sensation down his spine. Such a little thing, but it makes him ache for more. Akaya’s hands reach down to cover Yukimura’s at his hem as he helps push down his jeans over his hips.

[senseskill]

The jeans come off. The boxer briefs don't. Yukimura isn't done teasing just yet-- only at the point that the pants are indeed in the way. His touch travels over the front of the hip, just missing him. He goes down one leg, hitting the inside of the thigh, the underside of the knee, the curve of the calf, the anklebone. He takes a couple of minutes to massage Akaya's feet, then performs the same path in reverse up the other leg.

This time, as he returns to the hips, his nose and lips brush over the bulge in his underwear, his breath falling hot against the thin fabric between them.

[crimsonmoon]

The subtle caress continues, down the length of his legs now and back again, as if Yukimura is exploring his body all over again. Reacquainting himself with every part of him that once knew his touch so well. Akaya moans, fingers twining into Yukimura’s hair as he breathes hotly on him, sending another shiver down his back. He arches into it.

[senseskill]

Credit where due: Akaya has been dutifully patient through this self-indulgent nostalgia tour over his body. Is it cathartic for him to revisit this kind of lovemaking that they did in the past, back before their nights together were spontaneous hookups with an old flame that refused to burn out? He seems strangely unreadable to Yukimura now, and that bothers him. Who is Akaya thinking of when he feels that mouth so close to him?

Yukimura pulls down the hem of the briefs, exposing him to the air. He runs his fingers down the length of his cock. This, too, he's going to take his time refamiliarizing himself with. For the next several minutes, he attends to every stroke, nuzzle, lick, kiss, and squeeze with this sense of purpose. Perhaps, as he showers all of this attention on this most personal of spaces, it's also reminding Akaya who it belongs to at the end of the day. Who he belongs to. This is, after all, a question that Akaya will have to answer before they part company.

Because Yukimura understands now what it is that he wants out of tonight, and what he's going to do to achieve it. Whatever happens, he'll ensure he can greet it with no regrets.

No more regrets.

And that means Playtime is over. Yukimura closes his mouth around Akaya and takes him in as far as he can go.

[crimsonmoon]

If Yukimura finds him unreadable right now, it would be because Akaya doesn’t even know, himself. He would find a murky mess of thoughts if Akaya were forced to pry open and examine what’s inside his mind. There’s no concern of what will come later. He doesn’t want to touch upon that complicated reckoning yet. He wasn’t prepared for it. Maybe he never would’ve been.

The past, strangely enough, doesn’t linger in his mind either. At least, not in a conscious way. There’s no how it was or what could’ve been, no why or why not. If there is a piece of their past he fixates on, it is this familiarity - every touch and gesture that his body remembers. It is visceral, and the stroke of that hand and the mouth that closes over him right after can coax out a noise from the back of his throat that sounds almost like a cry. His fingers tighten in Yukimura’s hair. The warmth spreads down across every inch of his body down to his toes, a natural high that Yukimura can take him to. Is that because this is the one obsession he can never seem to shake? Or because of something else that he wanted, now within his grasp again? Yukimura is entangled in that mess of emotions, desire, pain, pleasure. It’s hard to say what part of it he feels when he touches him like this.

[senseskill]

Just because Playtime is over, of course, doesn't mean that Yukimura has changed his mind about the pacing. Akaya's finally getting direct attention where he wants it, but it's going to be drawn out. For the sake of savoring it; for the sake of making it that much more electrifying in the end; for the sake of hearing more of those beautiful sounds he makes. Remember every ounce of this intensity, Akaya, the pleasure and euphoria so strong it makes your toes curl. Remember because there's no choice. Remember because that's the only way this is guaranteed to end well for you.

Yukimura brings him right to the edge of relief, then eases off. He stops because they're not done yet, and that's one thing he knows they agree on. He marks Akaya's midline with another trail of kisses, this time working from the bottom up to the stomach, the chest, the collar, the neck, the ear. He threads his fingers through the hair at Akaya's nape and cups the back of his head, cradling it close to him in a moment of silent intimacy, a pause from the passion and the pleasure to simply focus on the presence.

There are no words for this feeling. It's fulfilling, painful, cherished and yearning all at once. Akaya.

[crimsonmoon]

It’s crazy, all the little things the body remembers. The curl of fingers around him, the way the tongue slides across just so, all the subtle gestures that make him want to pull him closer still, over and over. And surely Yukimura remembers too, he must read him like a book, every groan and shiver that he gives him. And so he knows when to stop - not a moment too soon, just when his body tenses to the point of falling. Akaya is flushed and breathing hard by the time Yukimura travels back up his torso, leaving him achingly unsatisfied. But he would’ve stopped him anyway, if he hadn’t already. Because whatever this is, this undefined moment in time, he at least knows it needs to be like this - something he shares with him.

He cups Yukimura’s cheek with his palm and pulls him back just enough to look up at him. There’s an adorable pinkish hue on Yukimura’s face that he slowly caresses with his thumb. And maybe the moment is supposed to be charged with emotion that leaves him breathless (and it is) but really, he can’t help it. He giggles.

“Yuki.”

[senseskill]

How Akaya manages to giggle like that is something beyond Yukimura's comprehension. It isn't a bad thing. It's simply a quality that Yukimura himself has never quite possessed, this lightness and inner joy that brightens the room and warms the soul. He's forgotten just how it felt to be in the presence of this spirit when it shines like this.

He doesn't say anything back, but he thinks Akaya understands anyway, at least this time. Maybe this started with jealousy and possessiveness, maybe it was fueled on by a need for control and a desperation to prevent this loss from becoming irrevocable. But what's here now is none of that, nor is it the simplicity of a thirst for a hot body to touch on a lonely night. It's a toast to all the good things they had together. And it's a confession that some things are beyond his power to change. Despite his best efforts over the last two years, he still loves Akaya. And, somewhere deep underneath his selfishness and heartache, that love also means he wants him to be happy, and for that light to continue to glow.

He leans in and kisses him slow and deep. No words right now, Akaya. Just breathe.

[crimsonmoon]

Yukimura probably has no idea how cute he can look sometimes. It’s not really a trait that people commonly associate with him, but Akaya does. Just in these brief glimpses where he’s unguarded and vulnerable. Maybe he doesn’t show it to a lot of people, but that would be why Akaya finds it so captivating.

He can feel that now in his kiss. He inhales slowly as their lips meet, his hand slipping up Yukimura’s face and brushing over his ear as he pulls him closer. He does understand. This kiss is different. It’s like the way he used to kiss him, the kind of kiss that is in the moment, suspended in time.