Work Text:
The plushies in Noé’s bedroom were turned toward the wall more often than not these days.
Vanitas wasn’t exactly sure how he’d ended up straddling Noé on top of the bed, his own coat left behind in a crumpled mess on the floor, and the sequins that adorned his revealed stage costume glittered in the light. Noé had walked him home from his shift at the strip club, so Vanitas had decided it was both safe and advantageous enough to only throw a coat over top of it before leaving. He’d wanted to tease Noé a little, after all.
Yet nothing felt teasing like this, Noé splayed on the bed, chest rising and falling with every breath, and Vanitas sat atop him, sure that if he moved back by the smallest margin he’d feel a certain problem he could very much fix.
Vanitas knew what he should do. Hell, even if Noé had only picked him up tonight and nothing more, he was still his highest paying customer despite their current relationship status. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? A boyfriend wouldn’t be hesitant to indulge their partner. It was part of the hidden and unsaid expectations of being a couple.
“Vanitas,” Noé breathed, his voice near reverent as he uttered his name with a smile. A sickening jolt spiked through Vanitas. His name wasn’t meant to be said with something so close to love. “You look beautiful like this.”
Words clogged Vanitas’ throat. Even if the outfit was revealing, he hadn’t stripped yet, his body what everyone ultimately wanted to see.
Despite it all, Vanitas just grinned as he straightened and sat back just to see Noé squirm. “Oh? What do you want me to do about it? Ride you?”
Noé wouldn’t agree. Riding was something that would be about Vanitas' own pleasure, or at least, he was pretty sure that’s how it was supposed to go. Noé may have somehow made sex okay, pleasurable even, but everything and everyone had limits. It was Noé alone who could make Vanitas’ broken body react as it was supposed to, but it was also Noé who should be the one pleasured instead of Vanitas.
Noé’s eyes lit up. “Would you?”
Vanitas’ mouth dropped open. Noé wasn’t supposed to take it seriously. Maybe Vanitas could make it a show of sorts, he’d done it before, but somehow that had felt almost worse in a way than when people would just take from him. Riding… That signaled he wanted it.
As much as Vanitas liked the idea of doing everything himself, control also meant he’d be the one responsible for the slimy rot that was sure to grow beneath his skin one day as it had with everyone else he’d been with. This impossible bliss wouldn’t last forever.
“You!” Vanitas started before he cut himself off. He supposed that he was the one who’d suggested it in the first place. He just barely kept himself from crossing his arms. “Seriously, don’t you like it when I bottom more? Pretty sure that’s supposed to feel better for you.”
Heat rushed to his face, and the realization of such a humiliating reaction only caused his face to scorch hotter. He’d thought he’d moved past such juvenile embarrassment long ago, the streets and strip clubs having no place for any degree of modesty or shyness. He’d performed for people just a few hours ago, gyrating against poles and had given someone a quick lap dance, yet he was blushing like some virgin now with his boyfriend.
Noé cocked his head to the side in confusion. “But I like to see you enjoying yourself.”
Vanitas opened and closed his mouth, yet no words came out. Ridiculous. Noé was a foolish idiot too good for him.
He still had to come up with a response.
“Fine! But only because you asked,” Vanitas grumbled as he got off the bed just long enough to grab the lube in Noé’s dresser. Nerves zipped through him even as he shimmied out of his skin tight pants and returned to how he’d been straddling Noé, who’d also made quick work of his own pants.
This wasn’t what Noé would be expecting. Sure, Vanitas could give him a good performance as he did best, but he’d never bothered with self pleasure before. How he felt had never been important until Noé had come along.
Could he even coax out pleasure from his own body? Vanitas peeled off a singular glove and drizzled lube over his bare hand. He could just fake it and that would be good enough. Just maybe it wouldn’t be as horrible as the other times because he was with Noé now. Noé who he was dating. Noé who’d somehow made sex something good that Vanitas now enjoyed.
It was a mistake to glance at Noé again instead of his original plan of detaching from himself and treating it as a show. Instead, he found himself staring into violet eyes which gazed up at him as if he of all people had somehow hung the stars in the sky. As if Noé truly meant, once again, that he wanted Vanitas to enjoy himself.
Noé didn’t want a show.
Vanitas took a steadying breath before he began to stretch himself open. He still wasn’t used to the feeling or the sheer self-consciousness that came with performing the action in front of someone, yet Noé only gazed up at him with adoring eyes as if waiting for some treat.
Vanitas almost cursed under his breath. Noé had always made it feel good for him, hell, the man could work miracles with his fingers, but Vanitas had no experience in such an area. He could swear Noé actually cared about Vanitas’ own pleasure in sex just as much as his own if not more, even if such a thing sounded delusional to his own mind.
Noé would always crook his fingers just so, right around the area Vanitas was stretching out, and —
Vanitas gasped as pleasure zipped up his spine. It seemed impossible for him to have given himself such a feeling, but he couldn’t deny what he’d just felt or the way Noé was gazing at him now with an almost awed look.
Vanitas’ thighs trembled as he pressed against that spot within him in between stretching himself. His face burned as pleasure buzzed through his body. It almost felt wrong that it wasn’t Noé who was giving him those sensations he’d always thought impossible for himself, but he was doing it. Not Noé. Him.
“I… I’m ready,” Vanitas finally announced as he withdrew his hand and wiped it on the bedsheets. He’d make Noé wash them afterwards. His hand felt disgusting.
Noé just smiled, no words needed between them, and reached out to hold Vanitas’ bare hand, sure to still have residue on it, as if he didn’t care at all about the remnants of lube on it.
Vanitas tried not to freeze. It was inconceivable enough Noé wanted to date someone like him, someone who was rotten and used, but he’d at least expected Noé to skirt around any evidence of his own uncleanliness.
But had Vanitas ever been disgusted by Noé when he’d done similar with Vanitas? Had he ever viewed Noé as contaminated? He already knew the answer, but maybe it was because Noé wasn’t already rotten from the very core unlike Vanitas.
Vanitas slowly sank down on Noé’s length. Just like every other time with him, no stinging or piercing pain shot up his spine. Nothing but a stretch and the satisfying feeling of not just being full, but the knowledge that it was Noé who he was with. When it was Noé, sex didn’t have to be something to be dreaded or endured.
It wasn’t difficult to build a slow rhythm, even if it was Vanitas himself who was setting it. Despite the blush that began to dust Noé’s cheeks, the other man didn’t force control or buck up as he had to be aching to do.
Vanitas’ thighs burned and for just a moment of selfishness he allowed himself to merely grind against Noé. He wasn’t used to pleasure or how it would turn his muscles into liquid. He just had to push through a little longer so Noé wouldn’t be disappointed. He already knew Noé wouldn’t become mad or just take from him if he wasn’t satisfied, but the image of a disappointed yet reassuring Noé was almost worse. He just needed to summon a little more strength so that would never happen.
“You’re stunning,” Noé whispered.
Vanitas’ gaze snapped to his face, and instead of any impatience or annoyance, Noé instead gazed up at him as if his entire world had narrowed down to Vanitas and Vanitas alone.
Noé reached up with his spare hand and rested it around the small of Vanitas’ waist, but he didn’t nudge Vanitas to start again or to go along at a specific pace. If anything, Noé just wanted to touch him and nothing more. No expectations or demands. Nothing of what Vanitas had become accustomed to over the years.
A small smile wormed its way onto Vanitas’ face, which he stomped down with a scowl upon realizing its existence. Still, it didn’t feel as though he was forcing himself as he started again. Noé’s hands simply supported him without Vanitas ever needing to ask for help in the first place. Rot didn’t seep into him from his touches, but instead, warmth and a sense of calm blossomed within him. Somehow, with Noé, touch was something good.
Warm pleasure pooled in Vanitas’ gut as he positioned himself so Noé would hit his prostrate dead on time and time again. He couldn’t stop chasing that high, even if he took small moments to catch his breath and just grind against Noé as he had before. Sweat dripped down his body from exertion and the bed creaked with their movement, but Vanitas had never felt so in control as he did in that moment, Noé beneath him and whispering his name, his entire body blushed a beautiful warm red.
Vanitas couldn’t help the small whines and pants that fell from his own lips. Sparks of pleasure rendered his mind little more than mush as he chased the feeling, and Noé’s name soon became the only word he could form.
“Va… Vanitas,” Noé panted before he skewed his eyes shut for a moment. Really, Vanitas didn’t get why he was trying so hard to stave back his orgasm. That was the point of sex, wasn’t it? “I —”
Vanitas cut him off with a particularly sudden drop down and clench just to watch Noé’s attempted words turn into a moan. A grin spread across his face even though his entire body was beginning to become slicked with sweat.
“Want to… Same time,” Noé got out once he’d recovered. Noé’s hand that had been holding Vanitas’ disentangled from his. If anything, Vanitas should be relieved, his bare hands something he rarely allowed anyone to come into contact with so that at least one singular part about him wouldn’t become tainted, but he’d almost forgotten for just the last few minutes why he always wore gloves.
All thoughts emptied from his mind as Noé thumbed at the tip of Vanita’s dick. A jolt of pleasure raced up his spine and Noé only continued his ministrations as the sound of their heavy pants filled the air around them.
Vanitas’ earlier consistent rhythm became shaky as he chased after the wave of pleasure so close he could almost taste it. Just a little more and he’d be there. His thighs shook and he gripped the bedsheets with the hand Noé wasn’t holding any longer.
Noé’s thumb pressed into his slit and the hot coil of pleasure inside Vanitas finally snapped. Distantly, he felt Noé seize under him before sticky warmth filled him, but once again, no rot or disgust flooded him as the other came. If anything, additional satisfaction filled him instead.
Vanitas didn’t make Noé pull out immediately as he had with others in the past, but instead let himself bask in the warm, relaxing glow. Thoughts of a shower barely even registered in his mind when he somehow felt cleaner than he had when leaving the club just an hour before.
Noé finally shifted beneath him, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to move on either. Instead, he sat up and pressed his lips first to Vanitas’ forehead, and then in a kiss. Some final part of Vanitas finally relaxed as he let himself melt into the kiss, nothing about it inherently arousing or suggestive, but just there. Noé pressed against him and the two of them were as close together as they could possibly be.
With Noé, Vanitas didn’t have to worry about the perpetual rotten slime that oozed beneath his skin or what the next day at work would bring him. For just a moment, he didn’t need his guard raised against the real world that lay in wait for him. Even if there was no escape for him, Noé had stumbled upon the way out.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Noé moved to hold Vanitas’ gloved hand. Never once had Noé tried to convince him into taking off his gloves for him or ripped them off himself. His silence about them spoke louder than any reassurances about them he could have made.
A twinge of regret poked at Vanitas from the action as if he truly wanted to touch him without a single barrier between their hands, but he didn’t move to correct him. Despite Noé’s countless social hang-ups, he wasn’t stupid enough to miss what the action would actually mean.
“I’ve told you how handsome you are, right Vanitas?” Noé asked before he leaned forward to kiss him again.
Vanitas turned away, and Noé’s lips found his cheek instead. What a sap. “I’d hope so. Don’t know why I’d strip if I was ugly. Do I get a tip for this, then?”
“Mhm. Extra kisses,” Noé answered as he turned Vanitas by the chin and pressed yet another kiss to his other cheek. “Not just because you look good. It isn’t wise to date for anything besides personality. That’s what Teacher taught me. Vanitas, are frown lines a thing?”
Vanitas gaped at Noé. What he was saying couldn’t be true, but it wasn’t like Noé to lie. As much as Vanitas liked to call him stupid, it wasn’t that he was incompetent, more like it just never occurred to him that he could make something up. Maybe that was worse, though.
“I —” he started. Stupid, utterly idiotic Noé. People weren’t supposed to pick a boyfriend up from a strip club for anything but looks, the one thing Vanitas had in abundance. “You take that back! I take perfect care of my face and frown the normal amount! Meanwhile you’re going to have so many stupid wrinkles from all those curly straws you drink out of!”
Noé just burst into laughter as if they weren’t arguing while being nearly naked in bed, Noé’s cum dripping out of Vanitas’ ass around Noé’s softened cock while Vanitas sat on his lap. The entire situation was ridiculous.
“You’re sleeping on the couch!” Vanitas declared as he got to his feet and valiantly ignored how Noé’s cum trickled down his leg. And the fact he was currently in Noé’s condo. Not his own rundown apartment. “The fucking audacity of you —”
Vanitas stumbled, his legs still not in entirely working order, just for Noé to catch him like the absolute gentleman he was. Vanitas glared up at him even as Noé beamed. They both knew he wasn’t truly upset, but if he thought about Noé’s words any longer, then every defense he’d built up in his mind could come crumbling down.
“Okay,” Noé agreed as he leaned forward to give Vanitas yet another kiss on the forehead. He was about to be babied as he always was after sex, but just maybe he didn’t want it to be any other way.
It was Noé who eventually decided they should take a shower together and made them both tea afterwards. By the time they were snuggled up on the couch together, Noé drooling on Vanitas’ shoulder as he dozed off, Vanitas felt as though putty from both the warmth of the shower and tea, but also of the care Noé smothered him in.
Vanitas pressed a whisper of a kiss to Noé’s sleeping forehead. He didn’t deserve Noé’s care and acceptance, he never would in a million years, but for once, he let himself sink into it as Noé slept. It wouldn’t hurt so long as no one knew.
For that night at least, it looked like they’d both be sleeping on the couch together. Not just Noé.