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For who-knows-how-long now, Yakumo lays there, tense as a taut bowstring with a few shuddering ends. Rei had been flat-out teasing him ever since the beginning of the afternoon, when the researcher had promised him a chance to browse the textbooks he had amassed over years of rigorous study. It ultimately ballooned into a fiasco the second the ashen-haired's hands demonstrated the basis for indirect essence transfer, fingers spreading what it feels like dark elemental static, pricking on the serpent spirit's skin until it had caused gooseflesh. Before long, the alterations with their essence sparks interest in their loins, the ache unmistakable, their eyes reflecting the extent of their desire—boundless.
Harmless, he says, yet here they are, rushing out of their clothes to rid themselves of any barricade.
There's mercy in the way Rei beguiled him, hips gyrating against the outcrop of Yakumo's pelvis—then again, could Yakumo really call such a thing mercy, when all of this afternoon's frustrations were jump-started by the former?
All thoughts really vanish the second Rei whispers, "flip us over." The younger could barely register that with an able mind; having to play placid despite the burgeoning want and a raging erection destroys a man.
"W-what should I do now..." Yakumo questions, his wrists held by Rei, hands redirected to prop on the researcher's exposed midriff. Sweat, for all it is, is just water with several partitioning solutes—but all it does is aggravate Yakumo's lurching senses. It's still essence, after all. Traces of it, but still. "Mr. Rei... It's too much..."
"Guide it in." Rei murmurs, freeing Yakumo's hand in favor of touching him by the hair, two-toned strands untangled by the gentility of his fingers.
Yakumo lets out a hoarse whine upon being directed to breach Rei's entry. His soft taint, pallid flesh, the attar of his essence—it makes the youkai jut out his hips, acquainting the blunt head of his cock with Rei's opening. Yakumo reflexively hisses once he was able to veer the glans through the tight ring, and once that was wholly slotted in, Rei adds in a languid purr, "—just the tip."
“…. H-huh? Just the tip?”
"Just the tip."
"Mr. Rei—" Yakumo gasps, and Rei releases a short stab of laughter. His sweet, sweet cruelty vexes Yakumo, and it delights the latter to no end. "I–hah... Please... I c-can't go on like this..."
"Of course you can." The researcher huffs out, pink rising on his cheeks. Determined to prove his point, he bears down, lightly propelling forwards to simulate shallow thrusts. The friction makes Yakumo buck—it's unbelievably tight, the squelch that follows incomprehensibly loud. "I know you can. You've been so good to me so far," Rei continues, encouraging, until Yakumo does naught but struggles with the burden of fitting so little of himself. "Mh, see? That's not so hard, is it?"
Yakumo's gut is coiling, his cock weeping with pre-ejaculate, his hips straining a muscle from the constraint imposed upon himself that each thrust is supposed to be limited. Eyes glossy with unshed tears, he finds reprieve in the fact that Rei must be pushing himself to exertion as well, that the neglected cock dripping against his toned abdomen is an indication that they're both on thin ice. That it's equally difficult for both of them.
"Mr. Rei..." Yakumo trails off, lower lip pincered by his sharpened canines, his eyes squinting in pleasure. "Nh, fuck, let me—let me fuck you in earnest. Please. Pleasepleaseplease—nh, I can't... Feels too good–you, hah, feel too good."
"Is it that bad for you already?" Rei huffs out, lips in a loose, lopsided smirk that makes Yakumo squeak out a sheepish moan. Rei is unbelievably gorgeous, ashen hair framing his sweaty face, fringe falling perfectly on his cheeks... Just looking at him in such bright green, cat-like eyes makes Yakumo want to betray Rei's instilled commands. "Just a bit more. You can be patient, can't you? Do anything to deserve that tight little hole until you're fucking it with abandon?"
"Yes—hah, I believe I can." Yakumo nods, eager despite the tremor in his hold and the pitting in his stomach. His throbbing cock just flails at one point, and Rei recognizes it for the peak of Yakumo's sensitivity. They've been edging for a while now, after all. Tenting through their pants, wet on the underwear, and now, pulsing with need—he feels Yakumo's oscillations bounding.
"Good boy." Rei praises. The instant reaction that Yakumo made had him licking on his drying lips—a strangled whine, the creasing of his forehead, the determined downturn of his brows... "Such a good boy."
"Nh... So close—" Yakumo gasps, hurtling now that the need to unload is intense, his head thrown back. "Fuck... Hah, can I—"
"Cum inside?" Yakumo's nods were eager, a hushed string of 'yesyesyes' coming out of his swollen, red-bitten lips. The second he sweeps close by, Rei smashes their mouths in a clasp, their moans rumbling out of their mouths the second Yakumo bottoms out, ardent in his chase for climax. “Go on, mhn, god, keep it at that…”
The bed creaks alarmingly loud, repetitive and suggestive of their impassioned rhythm. Yakumo sweeps Rei in a flurry of thrusts, and the second the need topples over reason, the latter finally relents. “Hah, fuck, do me. Do it. Push everyth—”
Walls aflutter around his shaft, Yakumo finally sheathes the full extent of himself into Rei’s rear, a moan ripping out of him. Inch by gratifying inch, Yakumo slips, and Rei groans in the satisfaction of being filled to the brim. “Hah–!” Noises explosive, he hurtles with abandon, fucking wanton moan upon wanton moan from the ashen-haired’s gaping mouth. “Mr. Rei—ah-hah! I’m cumming…”
“Inside.” Rei gasps, clawing on the sheets, hissing, his legs wrapped around Yakumo until they're spilling all over themselves. Ribbons, splatters of white decorate their flushed skin, but they remain unstopping despite reaching a mutual orgasm—instead, they collide harder, faster, the necessity punctuated by the prolonged deprivation of what was to come anyway.
The serpent youkai begins to pin Rei’s hips onto the mattress, hands on either side of his waist, and they rally with the latter bouncing back into his mast. The angle of entry makes the researcher see white, brown noise filling his head, his back arching enticingly off the bed. “Shit—”
“Mr. Rei—” Yakumo says in plea, lovely, lovely tears slipping past his scarlet eyes. Rei’s pupils dilate in his shock; god, the little youkai looks so good, wrecked with need that surpasses his ability to think, crazed with pleasure from a pert little ass that squeezes just right. He belts out a whine when he feels himself cumming again, head lowered to pathetically reach Rei for another kiss.
They stay conjoined, their lips meshed together. When pleasure overtakes the both of them, Rei unknowingly digs his nails into Yakumo’s scapulae, to which the latter replies with another severe thrust, a particularly harsh squeeze on the waist, and his glans pounding into the spongy spot right in the back of his passage. Pleasure ricochets in Rei’s system, finding an outlet, anywhere, everywhere—
“Shit, Yakumo–!”
Rei unloads, enthused, fucked out in his high and a string of whimpers coming out gravelly from his mouth. Yakumo persists, hurried but relentless, and for the second time, he spurts in his triumph, bellying out a moan into the curvature of the researcher’s neck.
They stay like that, entwined and radiant in the aftermath of their coupling. The grey-haired’s lips trace on the shell of Yakumo’s ear, and soon he brings him down beside him. Whatever discomfort comes out of withdrawing the fill within him remains unspoken, they just lay there, chest heaving, their breaths hot.
“Mr. Rei…” Yakumo approaches him, meek in his afterglow. He worries that he might have gone too hard again—
“You didn’t.” Rei says, effectively putting an end to Yakumo’s concerns. Carefully, he brushes some of his hair over the opposite shoulder to free his neck of annoyance. “You’d have to do so much more than that to even dent me. You’re alright.”
“But—”
“Shush. Just rest.” Rei, meanwhile, gathers the pack he had hidden by the younger’s bedside display case. He gathers a random coat thrown haphazardly by the floor—which he assumes is Yakumo’s—bundles himself up with it, before sitting up properly for a smoke.
Yakumo repositions himself so he’s tucked by the centre of Rei’s chest, content with drifting off to sleep while Rei belches out his lungs. Before anything else, he grumbles in his thoughtless state, permanent satisfaction in his bones. “Mr. Rei?”
“Yeah?” The murmur was rasped out. Rei’s head turns for the fumes and the remaining wisps to drift off elsewhere.
“Your lessons are tiring.”
The grey-haired musters a singular syllable for a laugh. “Sleep.”