Archive of Our Own

The crowd exploded when the last guitar riff ended the song.

Sakura grinned at the ocean of his fans. Loud cheers and cries were ringing in his ears now that he took out his IEMs [1] after the last note echoed in the stadium. Sweat drenched his whole body under the bright lights of the stage, but he wasn't feeling it. Blood was pumping through him, accelerating his heartbeat, and he shouted to the crowd that was screaming his name.

"Don't do stupid shit on your way home!" He felt how his cheeks hurt from his wide grin. "Thank you for everything!"

With that, his encore after a four-hour concert has ended.

The confetti and lights went off one last time. The roar of his fans lingered like thunder after lightning, vibrating in his bones as he jogged backstage. Someone slapped his shoulder—crew or bandmate, he couldn't tell. It all blurred together as noise filled out his hearing. Sakura laughed, breathless, and after bowing to everyone in appreciation, he disappeared into the maze of cables and flight cases where black curtains smelled like metal, sweat, and electricity.

And then, abruptly, it was quiet.

His dressing room door shut behind him with a soft, final click. The silence was so sudden it made his ears ring worse than the speakers ever did. Sakura leaned his back against the door, feeling how his legs shook from exertion. All that jumping was probably bad for his knees, but he couldn't be still when performing. Sliding down, he plopped on the floor, tipping his head back and closing his eyes in exhaustion.

The adrenaline drained out of him like water down a sink.

His hands trembled a little as the aftershock set in. His legs were aching with muscle fatigue, his shoulders felt stiff, and his throat was sore. He grunted and pushed up to his feet, wincing from how he wobbled for a second. Shuffling towards the couch, Sakura scrunched his face in disgust as sweat cooled on his skin, making it sticky. Pulling off his sweat-drenched tank top and tossing it on the chair, he dropped onto the couch, sprawling with his boots still on. Guitar calluses stung now that he was aware of them, but it was a pleasant pain that came after a good show he put on.

Singapore was lovely. A bit more humid than he was used to, but beautiful. His fans were cool on this side of the globe, and he enjoyed performing like always. This was the last concert in Asia. The end of this leg.

Tomorrow he'd be on a plane again. Another airport. Another hotel. Another city.

USA next.

The thought should have thrilled him. It had, once. When the tour was first announced and everything still felt shiny and infinite, he'd bounced on his heels like a kid. Venues and setlists, rehearsals, and talks about how to make the show groundbreaking and how insane it all was.

Now, all he felt was the hollow ache in his chest.

It shouldn't have been like this. The high after charged air of the stage should have lasted longer. It did. In the first few weeks, it did. But then, after bright lights shining down on him, after thousands of people cheering and singing along with him, Sakura would come back to the empty dressing room, and then he'd be escorted back to his hotel through flashing cameras and fans, and when the door closed deep at night after the blazing show, he'd be alone in bed, unable to fall asleep.

Looking at the ceiling and missing long hair tickling his skin.

Kyotaro.

He missed his boyfriend.

Sakura pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the image of Sugishita from forming. It didn't help, though. As tall as a lamp post, his boyfriend was always in the back of his mind, vivid and stubborn, like a bruise you keep poking just to see if it still hurts.

Shit.

It did hurt.

Sakura remembered how he had kissed him goodbye at the airport. They had to hide from paparazzi once again, sneaky like a couple of high schoolers. A rising champion of the middleweight division of Japan's MMA and a international rock star who took the hearts of millions being together would have blown every single media outlet off its rocket. They kept it secret, though the pressure of hiding all the time was piling up.

Sakura hated it, no matter how much Nirei, his manager, kept telling him that they needed to choose the right time to break the news.

He could tell Kyotaro hated it too.

He remembered how his fingers curled in the fabric of the grey hoodie, tugging the taller man closer. His heart was thumping out of his chest as Sugishita was kissing him senseless and Sakura kept nuzzling into the hollow of his neck, not able to breathe enough of his cologne. There was an unspoken sadness in the way his boyfriend held his waist, pushing Sakura into his chest for the last time before whispering in his deep, raspy voice.

"It'll be quick."

They managed to steal a couple more hurried kisses before Nirei found them and stuttered that Haruka was going to be late for boarding. And ever since Sakura saw his boyfriend through pixelated video calls and exchanges of pictures.

It didn't feel quick at all.

It's been three months.

Three months of calls and smiles with distorted voices through shit connections. They've made it work somehow. Sakura would finish rehearsal and call him from the tour bus, sweat-soaked and buzzing, and Sugishita would answer sitting in some locker room or empty gym, the tight ropes of the ring behind him. With a towel around his neck and with his hair in a bun, he would grunt his hello, making Sakura blush as his tired eyes softened endlessly at the screen.

But once in the USA, Sakura knew it'd be difficult to make it work. They'll be in different time zones, and even if he was ready to set alarms for ungodly hours just to catch Kyotaro awake, Sakura knew it would be hard.

Even now, when they were in semi-close time zones, Sakura always felt hollow after their calls.

His heart clenched, and he ruffled his hair, thinking that his one hour in the dressing room was going to come to an end soon and he'd better get ready to go through the crowd of fans outside. But his body melted deeper into the couch as he sulked, struck by melancholy.

His mind was whirling, now that the concert was over, and all his thoughts went back to Sugishita.

He was probably training at this hour. Two times champion in middleweight, he was climbing up in the MMA scene with every fight he won. Sakura grinned to himself, letting out a proud chuckle.

His boyfriend was a fucking badass.

Tall and broad-shouldered, all long limbs and quiet intensity, Sugishita Kyotaro didn't look like the kind of guy who could fold someone in half with a single kick. He wasn't flashy. He didn't snarl or posture or scream like half the idiots in the ring. He just stood there—calm, heavy, and unmovable. Like a wall you were stupid enough to run into.

And then you were on the ground.

Sakura had seen it up close. Ringside, when he was just debuting and had to wear caps and binnies to hide his hair and remain incognito, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat as Kyotaro moved with brutal precision. Every strike was efficient, every step measured.

There was no wasted energy. No mercy either.

The way his corded muscles flexed under his skin, solid abs tightening with his every breath, sweat cutting clean lines down his back, jaw clenched in that familiar grim line of concentration—

God.

Sakura groaned and closed his eyes. He was a mess, thinking about his boyfriend on the ring, sweaty and grinning in the glory of his victory.

It was unfair. Criminal, honestly, how different Kyotaro was both in and out of the ring, disarming Sakura every single time. In the ring he was violence incarnate—focused, lethal, beautiful in the way a storm was fascinating. Sakura was always attracted to his strength, how his eyes were hot with excitement of another fight where he swung and kicked, all snarls and power.

Outside of the boxing, he was painfully domestic, making Sakura's cheeks flush and his breath hitch. His oversized hoodies that Haruka would steal always smelled of his aftershave and the cooling mint of the salve for his bruises, and his long hair was let out of the bun and falling on his shoulder in silky dark strands. Band-aids with cat paws on them and his tendency to mix his tank tops with Sakura's only to abandon them altogether as his broader shoulders would get stuck in them. His boyfriend was all awkward silence and blunt honesty when not in the ring, shoulders hunched like he didn't know what to do with his size. His hands, when not punching the sandbag or someone's face, didn't quite know where to go unless they were holding Sakura.

Those hands—

Sakura's chest tightened.

He missed the weight of Kyotaro behind him on their early mornings. When both of them were grumbling at their alarms, clinging to warm sheets and each other, but eventually stumbling out of the bed at the crack of dawn—Sakura for rehearsals and studio sessions and Sugishita for his morning runs and gym. He missed the way his boyfriend would rest his chin on his head while he was preparing them breakfast because his grumpy post lamp couldn't cook for shit. Without a word, Kyotaro would cling to him all morning, not able to let go of him and the last remnants of his sleep. Sakura missed how his voice was even raspier in the morning, making shivers run down his spine whenever he said his name.

Most of all, he missed how safe he felt wrapped up in arms strong enough to break bones yet gentle with him.

The video calls helped a bit with his longing, but lately those calls were making him even sadder somehow.

He felt how a hollow opened in his chest when he saw Kyotaro half-asleep, with heavy eyes and wet tangled hair after a shower, as he murmured encouragement while Sakura rambled about sound checks and broken strings on his guitar. He felt a different kind of pain when he noticed new bruises and scratches on Kyotaro, and the inexplicable urge to soothe the byproducts of his boyfriend's relentless training was sizzling at his fingertips. Even times when Sakura would wake up to missed calls and videos—Sugishita shadowboxing in an empty ring, grinning into the camera like he was showing off just for him—made his chest tight.

He learned that the distance was a slow, grinding thing. It was wearing them down.

Sakura stared at the ceiling, eyes watering from the lights. He remembered the way Sugishita's attention kept slipping during last calls, how he'd glance off-screen, mutter apologies about training schedules, and his coaches yelling for him.

Haruka had told himself not to be petty. He knew what sport career demanded.

But it kept messing with his head. His anxious mind was restless, asking for answers he didn't have.

Still, there were nights Sakura had ended calls early, claiming exhaustion when really it was the tightness in his chest that scared him. At night he would lie in hotel beds that were too big for one person and refuse to cry about his choices.

But his heart wanted what it wanted.

His fingers would curl in empty sheets as he thought about the weight of Kyotaro's arm over his waist.

The steady heat of him—he missed it.

"I wanna go home," Sakura muttered, feeling how moisture made his vision blurry and he blinked, letting wetness bunch up his lashes.

It wasn't lights that made his eyes wet.

The couch suddenly felt too big. The dressing room was too empty.

Sakura exhaled shakily and sat up, leaning on his knees. He felt how a lump was stuck in his throat and rubbed his eyes stubbornly.

"Idiot," he mumbled to himself. "Get your shit together."

A knock cut through his lamenting thoughts.

Before he could answer, the door cracked open, letting in the noises from the arena that was still buzzing with leaving fans, and Nirei slipped inside. He hugged his tablet to his chest like a shield and gulped audibly, though small smile tugged on his lips.

"Sakura-san," Nirei said, sounding annoyingly cheerful. "Um—there's… someone important asking for your autograph."

Sakura groaned, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair. "You know that I don't give exclusives." He grumbled, his mood worsening by the second. He didn't like the feeling one bit, and he snapped back at Nirei. "There are fan signs for this."

Nirei hesitated, and Sakura heard him shuffling as he finally took off heavy boots. His back was still facing the door when he heard his manager speaking again.

"… I really think you should—"

"I said no," Sakura quipped, irritation flaring hot and sharp. The floor felt cold under his feet when he pulled off his socks. Shit, even his socks were sweaty from all the jumping he did on the stage. He pushed himself up from the couch, groaning from how his muscles protested every movement. "I'm sweaty and exhausted—I'm not in the mood to—”

He finally turned toward the door and everything stopped.

Something died in him and came alive.

Kyotaro stood in the doorway.

For a second, Haruka genuinely thought he'd finally crossed some invisible line and snapped. That his brain, wrung dry by the noise and light and longing, had decided to hallucinate the one thing he wanted most.

His boyfriend looked real in the worst—no, best way. Hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, a cap and a face mask hiding his face, but the way broad shoulders filled out the door frame was unmistakably Sugishita. One of Sakura's merch T-shirts hung loose on a wide chest, the familiar logo distorted with wrinkles. Haruka's heart stumbled when the man pulled away his face mask, tucking it into the front pocket of worn-out jeans, revealing a handsome face.

Mismatched eyes traced every feature like it had been years. Strong dark eyebrows that were perpetually furrowed though the wrinkle between them now looked softer somehow. Chestnut colored eyes were looking back, seeking Sakura. Straight nose, high cheekbones, light bruises on smooth tan skin—Haruka wanted to touch. His eyes fell on stubborn line of full chapped lips and a small cut on them made his heart clench.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon't—

"Hey."

The world tilted.

Sakura made a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and then he was moving. He crossed the room in three wide strides and slammed into Sugishita, arms wrapping around him. His nose jammed into a broad chest, and he clawed at his back as the familiar scent of mint filled his lungs. A moment later, strong arms wrapped around him readily, pushing him deeper into the embrace, and he gulped when he felt how his boyfriend shuddered against him. Hurried heartbeat thumped away under Sakura's ear and he clung tighter to hear it better.

Choking on his emotions, he noticed how Nirei left them alone, silently closing the door. He should buy his lunch some time.

For now, he rubbed his nose against the soft T-shirt, feeling how warm hands caressed his back. Familiar calluses of rough palms were soothing, and skin-on-skin contact made his bones melt.

He was glad he took his tank top off earlier.

"You're—Fuck, you're—" Haruka's voice broke. He gulped, feeling like all exhaustion left his body, and with it came flutters of his heart. "What are you doing here?"

He looked up, biting his lips and saw how Kyotaro's eyes crinkled with his smile.

"I wanted an autograph from a rock star."

To that, Sakura's heart leaped out of his chest and he laughed, feeling how his face hurt from wide grin.

"You idiot! What's wrong with you—"

He was cut off by hot lips, and his knees buckled. Grabbing on wide shoulders, he kissed back just as passionately, seeking his boyfriend's warmth. Chapped lips felt so good against his, and oh, god, he missed kissing. The simple joy of feeling another man's mouth stretch in a smile, the scent of fresh cologne, hot palms on his waist and lower back—

He supposed this was how healing of his heart felt like.

They pulled away, panting, and Kyotaro leaned in to press their foreheads together. Despite grim features that he sported most of the time (just because he never felt the need to smile or be animated when Sakura wasn't around), his boyfriend was grinning. A wide smile lit up his usually brooding face, and Haruka would never admit that something inside him died a little every time he saw how both of Kyotaro's canines scraped his bottom lip.

Feeling how blush threatened to spread down his neck and naked torso, Haruka tried to scowl, though it only made Sugishita's eyes shine brighter in satisfaction of his surprise.

"Seriously, though," he murmured, playing with the belt loops of Kyotaro's jeans. His throat was parching from how body heat was transferring to him as they were pressed together. "What are you doing here?"

His boyfriend reached to kiss his cheek, mumbling in that deep, husky voice of his.

"Missed you."

He nuzzled, leaning lower to reach Sakura's neck, and his cap fell off. His hot lips left sweet kisses along his jaw, coming back to his lips and taking them into another dance. His low hum vibrated in Haruka's ribs, and he pulled away with red cheeks.

"You flew to Singapore." His breath hitched when his boyfriend simply nodded. "For me..."

Sugishita reached up and brushed his thumb under Sakura's eye gently. He nodded again, his face softening without a harsh edge in his eyes, and he leaned in to place a soft peck on Haruka's open mouth.

"And I'd do it again," Sugishita said simply.

His words landed softly but with devastating force.

Sakura swallowed hard. The room felt smaller, warmer, like all the air had been pressed out and replaced with him. His hands curled tighter in the fabric of Kyotaro's shirt, knuckles whitening as if letting go would make this moment dissolve.

"I—" He laughed weakly, the sound breaking. "You can't just say that and expect me to be normal about it."

Sugishita huffed a quiet breath against his temple, something between a chuckle and a sigh. He leaned down slightly so Sakura didn't have to crane his neck, and his forehead brushed Sakura's hairline again.

"You don't have to be normal."

That did it.

Haruka surged forward, kissing him hard, hands fisting in his hair now that the cap was gone.

Even the sensation of silky strands between his fingers, he missed it too.

Their kiss was all heat and relief, months of longing snapping at once. Sugishita backed him up without breaking it until Sakura felt the edge of the makeup table against his hip. Chasing his lips with hunger, Kyotaro groaned and pressed impossibly closer. Their pelvises collided in need, and the sensation of a hot body seeking him so sincerely lit up Sakura's blood on fire. Their breaths tangled, noses bumping together as he gasped whenever his boyfriend's big, rough palms caressed his chest. Overwhelmed, he moaned, bucking his hips and the growing pressure in his leather pants made him hiss.

"We need to—" he stuttered and moaned again as Kyotaro's fingers kept teasing his nipples while he mouthed at his neck. "F-fuck, we gotta—"

Someone cleared their throat very pointedly outside the door, knocking three times.

They froze and Sakura heaved, feeling how his face was about to melt off from embarrassment.

"Shit! Fuck, we should—" he hiccupped when Sugishita let out a protesting groan and squeaked when big hands grabbed his ass lifting him up on the table. Heat pooled in his stomach and he swallowed needy whimper. "What are you—W-wait!"

A loud cough transmitted through the door, now with firmer knocks, and Kyotaro grumbled, pressing his forehead to Sakura's shoulder in defeat. He nuzzled and, with a sigh, leaned away.

"We should," he gulped and Sakura just now noticed how dark his eyes had turned. "We should probably go—"

"Yeah," Haruka nodded with a red face. He swallowed, parched from the feeling of the thick bulge pressing into his crotch. Licking his lips, he saw how dark eyes followed his tongue and pressed his palm on Sugishita's chest, creating a bit of space between them to stop and gain his composure. "We should go—Or Nirei's gonna have an aneurysm."

An ugly snort from his boyfriend made his heart clench in a sweet, sweet feeling, and he grinned, hopping off the table and subtly fixing his half hard dick in his tight pants.

"But we gotta escape first."

Grinning like an idiot, he found a spare shirt and fresh socks to put on. Kyotaro kept grabbing his thighs and ass once he started to put his boots on, giving him hard time. Swatting greedy hands away with screeches of a banshee, Haruka managed to get his hair under the beanie to at least try to disguise himself. With that, they slipped out of the dressing room and stumbled into Nirei who's face was as red as blaring lights of the stage during the concert.

Sakura felt a little guilty but then his manager tugged them both to the side and showed a narrow passage that went under the stage.

"Go this way, Sakura-san! There's a staff exit next to the parking lot!" He looked at Sugishita with a smile. "Your motorcycle should be parked there, right?"

Sakura halted with wide eyes.

"Motorcycle?"

He knew that his boyfriend drove one back in Japan, giving Sakura whiplashes of inappropriate thoughts about how hot the man looked on the monster of a vehicle. But he didn't need another visual attack.

His dick was already throbbing, thank you very much.

Sugishita shrugged and grunted. "I rented it. Your fans wouldn't let us get a taxi in peace."

Well. Fair.

They thanked Nirei (with Sakura promising not to oversleep his vocal lessons ever again), and they ran. A big hand was gripping his tightly, and with his heart ramming into his ribs, Haruka led them out, feeling adrenaline pumping straight into his bloodstream. The night met them with the cool air of July, and Sakura let out a chuckle, stopping to breathe in. Sugishita tugged him forward, now interlacing their fingers and making butterflies flap their wings in his stomach.

They were twenty-three, yet Sakura felt like he was a high schooler on the first date.

The motorcycle was parked all the way at the open gates and they ran through the rows of cars. Its slick silhouette had two bumps of helmets, and Sugishita handed him one, putting on his own.

He then turned to Sakura and tilted his head checking if he clipped it right.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not a kid—"

"I know," Brown eyes rolled in the open visor and his boyfriend grunted. "Just to be safe."

Before Sakura could start to blame the heavy helmet for preventing him of planting a kiss on a stubborn mouth, someone shouted.

"Oh my god! That's him!"

In seconds the stampede of screaming fans was flooding the parking lot. Phones were up, flashes popping like fireworks, and Sakura laughed, adrenaline spiking all over again as he climbed on behind Sugishita. His arms locked around his waist, and his heart grew too big for his chest.

The engine roared to life, and Kyotaro's voice was sharp in the noisy crowd closing in on them.

"Hold tight."

As if Sakura would ever let go.

The motel was nothing special. Small establishment in a quiet neighborhood with a flickering neon sign. The room was dark and smelled faintly of floral detergent.

Sakura didn't care, though.

He barely took off his boots when the door was shut behind them impatiently. The sound of the lock clicking narrowed down the world to the two of them, and strong arms lifted him again, making him shriek.

"P-put me down, you oaf!"

Kyotaro grunted something unintelligible into his chest, carrying him with incredible (read, arousing) ease and soon Sakura was on the neatly made bed, panting. Before he could even say anything else, Sugishita was already kissing him.

His larger frame slotted between his legs like he belonged there, and Sakura couldn't believe himself when he felt like he missed this too. Hands tugging off his shirt, fumbling with his belt and tight leather pants all while hungry mouth was devouring him like he was the last sip of water in the desert.

Fuck, he really missed this.

Him.

"Sl-slow down—"

"No."

A bite on his collarbone made him hiss, and he tangled his fingers in long hair, tugging Kyotaro off. Their eyes met, and he shivered with his whole body.

Kyotaro looked feral.

Like he was about to go into a fight.

Haruka's dick jumped in his pants pathetically.

"Okay, fuck, okay," he pulled on a dark shirt with his logo on it and licked the nick on his full lips, kissing the corner of his panting mouth. "Don't slow down."

His dick was throbbing in his half open pants when Kyotaro grinned at him. Another kiss took his breath away, and he propped himself up on his elbows to watch him undressing.

Jesus fuck, he would never get tired of seeing him naked.

Sakura himself was quite fit. He had firm abs that made his lithe core strong. Tones muscles, both on his arms and legs, made him proud of all the hours he put in in the gym.

But if he was considered to have a good body, his boyfriend was the epitome of athletic.

Sitting between his legs, Kyotaro took off his shirt, and the action made Haruka gulp. A strong chest was rising and falling with every breath he took, making Sakura want to bite tan skin. Hard muscles of his stomach were defined, a damn washing board of 6 pack abs. There were faint bruises on his core, and Sakura reached to brush them gently.

"It doesn't hurt."

"Good."

Sugishita let him remember his body and with heat swirling under his skin, Haruka touched. His fingers splayed across tan skin, pale next to the bronze, and he outlined every corded muscle that was earned with hard work. Excitement fluttered his heart as he traced solid abs and felt how Kyotaro shivered when his blunt nails scratched his dark happy trail. His jeans was about to burst open with how hard he was, and Sakura licked his lips in want.

With shaky hands he worked on the belt, fumbling and snarling under his breath, and when finally he tugged jeans and dark underwear down, Kyotaro's dick sprang out, smacking noisily against his hard abdomen.

Thick and long, with prominent veins on the sides, it was straight and deliciously heavy. Proportionate to his enormous height, it made Sakura's mouth salivate despite being parched just a second ago. Its dark tip was shiny with pre cum and his fingers circled around familiar shaft, flesh hot in his palm.

A low grunt made him smirk up at his boyfriend.

"Missed me, huh?"

Sugishita licked his lips, his eyes hooded, and his hand cupped Sakura's face as he nodded eagerly.

Haruka tugged dark underwear lower, freeing heavy balls, and all but purred, stroking throbbing length in slow, unhurried flicks of his wrist. The hand that was cupping his jaw traveled to his hair, and he chuckled when Sugishita tugged, making him look up.

Blush scattered on his handsome face and lit up his ears. Panting, he was furrowing his brows, and a low snarl made Sakura shiver in arousal.

"You're done playing?"

Sakura hummed, swiping a drop of pre-cum with his thumb and spreading it along the shaft. His fingers gripped tighter and he smirked at long moan, muttering before leaning to take it into his mouth.

"You bet I'm not."

Hot flesh slid right home.

He didn't hold back his moan when the thick cockhead pressed onto the roof of his mouth, breaking into his throat. His eyes watered instantly, and he swallowed, stretching his lips over the shaft. In the back of his mind he registered a hand fisting his hair, the rumbling sound of pleasure that he ripped out of Kyotaro's chest, and the tremor in strong thighs as he took him deeper, pressing his nose into neatly trimmed pubes.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head from gobbling up his boyfriend's dick like that.

He didn't know he missed the weight of it on his tongue.

Yet here he was, choking on it.

Long fingers gripped his hair and yanked him off. A hard cock was pulled out of his mouth with a filthy slurp, and Sakura shuddered, feeling how his lips tingled from the stretch.

"C'mon, just—" He licked his lips, reaching and pumping his fist on the slick shaft. Gulping, he looked up at Sugishita as the man still held his head in both hands, not letting him closer. "Just fuck my face."

The scowl made Kyotaro's features sharper, and he growled.

"Your voice," one of his hands travelled down to Sakura's neck, squeezing lightly and making him moan. "You'll lose your voice."

Needy whine left Haruka's mouth without his permission and he pouted, feeling how his own dick was wetting his underwear.

"I'll just suck a little then." He leaned in but was pushed back into the soft duvet. Hot lips captured his mouth hungrily, and he melted under the heavy body. Their chests collided, their sweat mixed, and the silk of dark long hair between his fingers made Sakura's breath hitch. Warm hands kept mapping out his body, and a hot cock pressed to his navel, promising sparks in his eyes.

He snorted when Kyotaro pulled on his tight pants, grumbling when they got stuck on his knees and ankles. They both fumbled getting completely naked and finally Haruka's hand wrapped around his aching dick.

It was immediately slapped away, and a bigger, rougher palm took control.

"F-fuck!"

He heaved as Kyotaro trailed kisses down his neck. Slow strokes were making Sakura squirm, and he raked his nails down his broad back.

"C'mon," he canted his hips, chasing the cruel hand that didn't pump tight enough. "Quit—Oh, shit, nggghh—Quit fucking around!"

Instead of giving him what he wanted, Kyotaro let go and reached over him to the nightstand. Haruka pulled up and bit his chest out of spite, though he licked the spot to soothe it. His boyfriend snarled but let him nuzzle into his chest as he fished out lube. Nearly breaking the cap trying to open it, he squirted some on his fingers, and Sakura gulped, getting ready for the sensation.

It seemed they both stopped breathing when Kyotaro pressed his finger in. It slipped inside with ease, and Sakura's face was lit on fire when his boyfriend looked at him with raised brows. His confusion didn't last long, and a slow, knowing smirk pulled on his lips.

Haruka wanted to strangle him.

"Sh-shut up!" He all but screeched and immediately moaned when one finger became two. "So what if I jerked off?! What, you expected me to fucking hold it all in?"

Sugishita snorted, leaning in and grinning. His face turned stupidly handsome when he was smug, and Sakura was sick of it.

"So you really missed my dick?"

"You motherfuck—"

He shut Haruka up with a kiss, not letting up and licking into his mouth. His teeth kept pulling on Sakura's lips, nipping and sending shivers down his spine. Persistent fingers were stretching him steadily; the relentless pace of a man who knew how to turn Sakura's brains to mush was unfair. For someone who was brutal in the line of his work, Kyotaro had incredibly deft fingers. They were long too, reaching and probing at every sweet spot they could find, and Sakura was melting.

He pushed his face into the sweaty neck, gasping when strong fingers brushed against his prostate. Trying to swallow his moans, he stifled his noises as much as he could, shaking. Embarrassment was burning him up, but so was pleasure, incinerating him inside and out.

Clinging to the larger torso, he breathed everything that was Kyotaro. His body musk, sweat, and a hint of shampoo from the dark hair tickling his face—everything felt so familiar and good he was falling apart. His cock, drooling onto his stomach and brushing against an equally hard one with his desperate bucks, was about to burst. Long fingers kept stretching him, now three in the tight orifice, and Kyotaro's deep, gravelly groans whenever Sakura clenched were almost sending the rock star into an early orgasm.

He wanted to feel the drag of cock inside him again. To feel its weight. The heat of the body pressing on him. Into him. Cum filling him and spilling out. Kyotaro's snarls and those hands gripping him—

Haruka moaned into his ear, so aroused he couldn't think straight.

"W-wait! I'm gonna," he swallowed thickly, all sweat and melting bones in Sugishita's arms. "I'm gonna come soon."

A low, excited grunt made his skin prickle and fingers started to fuck him in hard abrupt thrusts, and he slapped his back, moaning.

"S-stop it! I wanna," He hid his face in the nook of his long neck, nuzzling and almost shy to be bare like this. "I wanna come with you."

"Fuck."

Kyotaro's voice was hoarse as he cursed and took his fingers away. The slick noise of that made Haruka squirm, but he immediately was distracted by a hot cock nudging in.

His boyfriend slotted between his legs, pulling his legs around his waist. Sakura whimpered when Sugishita started to sink in. The stretch was overwhelming, setting his skin on fire. Haruka shuddered, hooking his ankles and dragging Kyotaro closer. Panting into his mouth, he pressed in slowly. His eyebrows were furrowed, sweat made his hair stick to his forehead, and Sakura pushed long strands away, bringing him in for a kiss.

"Tight..." Kyotaro slurred and heaved, his abs flexing as he drove his cock all the way in. His pelvis pressed into Haruka, leaving him breathless, and he grunted, impatient.

"J-just move... Mmm..."

Kissing him, Sugishita pulled out only to ram back in, making him moan. The boxer had lost his patience as well, as he started to fuck him earnestly.

Haruka could feel every throb of his cock when it pressed deeper into him. The thick shaft seemed endless, making his skin buzz with heat. It kept tugging on his walls, spreading him out and making his legs shake. The weight of it, almost unbearable, was making his stomach clench, and he felt his balls aching while his cock bobbed in rhythm with Kyotaro's unrelenting thrusts.

He was looking at him the entire time.

His intense eyes didn't let anything go past them. Sakura bit his lips, stopping his whorish moans, but Sugishita grunted in disapproval and slammed into him harder, making him shout. Gasping, Haruka felt the thick tip brush against his prostate, and he clawed at wide shoulders.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck!" He cried out as an intense tremor made his thighs lock around a sturdy waist. "I'm gonna—Yes! Yes! I'm comi—"

He choked on his spit, reaching to get himself off, but Kyotaro snarled and stopped momentarily to shove both of his hands above his head into a lock.

Sakura hissed, groaning.

"What are you—I want to come!"

Chestnut wild eyes traveled from his painfully hard cock to his face, and the taller man grunted, gripping his hip with his other hand.

"Come like this."

Haruka gaped at him, eyes wide in disbelief, and when Sugishita thrust in without letting go of his hands, he screeched through his moans.

"You fucking—Fuck! Oh, fuck! You can't—" he shuddered, practically feeling his boyfriend's cock in his lungs with how deep the man was fucking him. "I can't—Mm! Ngghh! There's no way—Fuck! There's no way I'll come like this—Oh, shit!"

His poor dick was leaking, ignored, and smeared his pre-cum all over his stomach. Kyotaro didn't give a damn, pounding into him with determination. Blood was rushing in Haruka's ears as he, honest to god, yowled in need.

Kyotaro just grunted back, pumping his hips tirelessly.

His stamina always blew Sakura's mind.

Loud slaps of their skin echoed in the room, and his face flushed as he whined at another particularly deep thrust. It felt like his prostate was being obliterated: every grind of hot throbbing cock inside was sending zaps of pleasure into his groin, making his vision blurry. He couldn't talk anymore, tongue heavy in his mouth as he heaved and moaned. Kyotaro's body heat, their sweaty skin sliding against each other, the weight of him on Haruka and deep inside—everything felt so raw he could cry.

"...ru... Haru...Haruka..."

A quiet whisper of his name between their sloppy kisses set off the supernova behind his eyelids.

It felt like he was stripped out of his skin and left to take it all in.

He heard himself screaming, his vision whitening out as his cock jerked, trapped between them, and burst with cum. It was painful, yet his body shivered against the stronger one, unable to endure this kind of pleasure. He couldn't breathe when Kyotaro pulled his legs higher and fucked into him at a different angle, accelerating. His cock now nailed his prostate with punch-like thrusts, and Sakura was fucking gone.

Heat unfurled in his lower stomach once again, and he sobbed into the tan shoulder, biting into sweaty skin. His hands were freed the second thick ropes of cum burned his insides. He embraced the heavy weight on him, clinging to shivering Kyotaro and gulping the air. A low moan vibrated in his bones as his heart was ramming through his ribcage trying to catch up to another one racing right next to his.

Hot palms cupped his ass, and Kyotaro pulled out, making him hiss. He tugged him on top, lying on his back with a sated sigh. Still speechless after a crushing orgasm, Sakura only had enough strength to find chapped lips and kiss them languidly. They responded just as lazily, chasing his breath, and rough hands rubbed his back in careful massage, turning him into a hot sweaty goo.

"...you're fucking animal..."

Jesus Christ, his voice sounded like he ate sand.

A low, satisfied hum made him roll his eyes, and he flopped on his broad chest, boneless. Their breath quieted down, the heartbeat under his ear turned back into a steady rhythm of a reckless heart, and the world seemed to slow back down.

For a while, they didn't talk. Sakura traced lazy patterns over Sugishita's chest, feeling how their sweat cooled on their skin, leaving it sticky. His thoughts were slow as he tried to blink away sleepiness. Big hands went from caressing his back up and down to tangling in his mussed-up hair, scratching his scalp pleasantly.

Not wanting to succumb to tiredness, he slurred into warm skin.

"You should have told me." He pulled up to see his face. "That you're coming."

"Wanted it to be a surprise." Kyotaro mumbled and pushed Sakura's sweaty hair away from his forehead. He then reached to kiss his forehead making Haruka's heart stumble. "You were cool on the stage."

The fact that he was watching him somewhere in the crowd made Sakura blush, and he grumbled, trying not to smile so widely. His heart swelled in affection until it hurt a little but his traitorous mind spoiled it, reminding him about the anguish of last several weeks.

"I thought—" He exhaled shakily. Maybe this wasn't something as big as his anxious mind suggested, but he needed to voice it anyway. "I got... scared."

Sugishita's brows furrowed in worry and Sakura hurried to continue.

"No, I'm fine! Well, I wasn't at the time, but I," he huffed, getting frustrated at his jumbled words. For a lyricist, he was incredibly inarticulate when it mattered the most. "I mean, I just... It felt like it was too much... For us, you know? You were tired and I was tired, and—Just," he licked his lips, trying to chose words carefully. He looked at Kyotaro as his boyfriend patiently waited for him to finish.

Sakura's heart clenched.

"I just wish... I wish it wasn't like this." He exhaled, twirling a long strand of dark hair between his fingers and averting his eyes. "It was hard… To not have you around." He gulped, feeling how his eyes watered suspiciously, and gritted his teeth stubbornly, sniffling. "I don't know how much of this I can take. And it's been only three months!" He exclaimed and felt his pulse quickening in frustrated agitation. "Tomorrow I'm departing for the US, and you'll go back to Japan, and I just don't know how I'm supposed to—"

"I'm going to the US too."

Kyotaro's voice cut his rushed speech like a blade, and Haruka stared at him with wide eyes.

"Huh?"

His boyfriend cupped his face, and his thumbs rubbed under his eyes, wiping away tears that Haruka didn't feel.

The steady pace of his deep voice calmed his ever-racing mind.

"My fights in Japan and China got canceled. Sponsors pulled out last second." He stopped for a moment to place a kiss on Sakura's cheek while he lay on his chest, speechless. "So Umemiya-san pulled some strings and I'm going to US for training spars." He searched for something in mismatched eyes while Haruka was completely flabbergasted and continued. "I wasn't sure if I'd be on time with the visa application. So... I didn't tell you right away. Didn't want to get your hopes high."

Sakura opened his mouth and closed it again. His teeth clacked and he winced, finally coming to his senses.

Of course, this big oaf wouldn't tell him unless he was 100% sure about it. It was so much in Kyotaro's nature: to care about Haruka's feelings and choose to struggle by himself in silence with uncertainty gnawing at his nerves.

So unbelievably thoughtful.

He squirmed under Sakura's unblinking gaze, and his eyebrows crinkled in worry.

"The cities line up. Almost exactly, and the dates are all separate so we can," he licked his lips, and his rough palm held Haruka's face like something precious. "We can see each other," he hesitated, muttering. "If you... if you want to."

"Of course, I want to! Are you stupid?!"

Sakura grabbed his face and smashed his mouth on his. Their kiss tasted salty, and he felt gentle fingers wiping away his tears. A low hum of contentment made his blood sing, and he let out a needy, absolutely pathetic whine, but fuck it.

He was allowed to be needy after all these months.

"I thought you—I thought we were growing distant," he mumbled between their kisses, stroking his sharp jawline. "We seriously need to work on our communication."

Sugishita huffed, grumbling and chasing his lips, apparently not having enough of him either.

"I think we're fine."

He ground up into Sakura, hard against his stomach, and singer smacked his chest, face bright red.

"Not that communication!" He gulped, mind distracted already, and his cock swelled at the demanding squeeze of his ass. "You horny—Shit, we need a plan! For the—Can you stop?! I'm trying to be responsible!"

"No."

Sakura was pushed to the side, and the grinning boxer slotted back between his legs. He nosed into his neck, licking and sucking. Pulling away, he kissed under his eye, muttering.

"Press probably got a picture tonight."

Haruka snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah. They definitely did."

"You okay with that?"

Sakura didn't hesitate. "I don't give a fuck."

Kyotaro grinned, and mirth looked beautiful on his face.

"Me neither."

He leaned down, kissing him slow and deep, savoring the warmth and certainty of them. His arms wrapped around Haruka, strong and sure, pulling him close until there was no space left between them.

Sakura smiled into his chest, and for the first time in months, the ache in his heart eased.

He was home.

BREAKING NEWS

Rock Star Sakura Haruka and MMA Fighter Sugishita Kyotaro Are Dating?!

International rock star Sakura Haruka and Japanese middleweight MMA fighter Sugishita Kyotaro were spotted together at Changi Airport [2], sparking widespread attention online.

According to eyewitnesses, the two arrived at the departure terminal together and were seen holding hands while moving through the crowd of dedicated fans. Several photos circulating on social media also show the pair sharing a brief kiss near the security checkpoint.

Sources claim both men were boarding separate flights to the United States, with Sakura Haruka departing for the U.S. leg of his world tour "Wind Breaker." The insiders are already buzzing about a major coincidence: Sugishita's recently canceled fights in Japan and China have reportedly pushed his training schedule stateside—to cities that closely overlap with Sakura's U.S. tour stops.

However, this was not the first time the two were allegedly seen together in public. Earlier the previous day, several pictures went viral showing Sakura Haruka leaving Singapore's National Stadium after his four-hour concert on the back of a motorcycle driven by an unidentified man. Fans were quick to speculate that the rider was Sugishita Kyotaro, citing the fighter's distinctive build and posture.

At the time, neither party commented on the image, and it was dismissed by some as coincidence. In light of the airport sighting, the pictures have resurfaced and gained renewed attention, further fueling speculation about the relationship.

As of now, both camps remain silent, but public interest continues to grow as Sakura and Sugishita head to the United States on overlapping schedules.

Viral video of them together, moving through the departure terminal with zero attempt to hide their closeness, had sparked massive discussion among fans. Witnesses report Sakura clinging to Sugishita's hand, fingers interlocked, while the fighter stayed close, shielding him from the growing crowd.

Here are some of the most viral posts all across social media, depicting public opinion.

ngl they look really good together 🤭

the height difference?? 😩

how tall is Sugishita??? i'd be folding like a loan chair for this man 🫣

rock star + fighter is kind of an elite combo

honestly, good for them

Sakura deserves someone solid like that

Sugishita looks like he's about to knock out some of those pushy fans lmao this man is in love 😩

waiting with bated breath for fanfics to appear on ao3 ifykyk

I can't explain it but they make sense

my pookie looks so happy with his man TwT  i love this for him 😭💜

Neither camp has released an official statement yet, but the silence is only fueling speculation. Judging by the way Sakura reportedly kissed Sugishita before disappearing past security, this seemed to be a cut-and-dry case.

Whether this was a carefully timed reveal or a moment that simply couldn't be contained anymore, one thing is undeniable.

This is the celebrity romance everyone will be watching.

Subscribe to stay tuned!