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2014. The Winter Olympics were, as they were every four years, all the world wanted to talk about. For the third time in history, Japan would be hosting, yet again bringing the city of Sapporo into prominence. There were some who found that Japan hosting the Games again so soon to be unfair, but their voices were drowned out by the raucous excitement surrounding the quadrennial tradition.
And none looked forward to it more than lovers of ice hockey. American fans sat with bated breath, watching out for the rosters, waiting to see exactly which of their beloved players would be selected.
It came as a surprise to exactly no one, when Boone Darlington and Toshiro Hironaka, of the Carolina Devils and San Diego Sharks respectively, were 2 of the first 6 players announced. In the tongue-in-cheek spirit so inherent to sporting communities, old clips of the pair's rookie days were put back into circulation. Their famous first fight, promotional events, ad campaigns. Post-game interviews with one that always dissolved into questions about the other. America’s Darling, and the Hiro from Japan, their rivalry was one for the ages. Seeing them on the same team would certainly be a sight to behold.
And Boone for one, had never been more excited in his entire life. The Olympics were a major step in his career, to be sure, but since his and Toshiro’s rivalry had calmed down from the initial wildfire to a healthy spark, he knew that he wouldn’t be as proud of himself if Toshiro wasn’t selected as well.
“You’re playin’ for the States, right?” Boone had yelled into his phone at an ungodly hour some months prior. Toshiro’s voice was hoarse, clogged with sleep, and Boone had to repeat the question before he drifted off again.
“Wh- of course I am….”
And all was right with the world again. Boone wouldn’t have blamed Toshiro for wanting to play for the country he was born in, but hell if it wouldn’t sting to play against him on a level like this. And how would they be roommates, he continued, if they were on different teams? He’d laughed as Toshiro hummed his groggy assent.
It was real now. Months of training later and it was finally time for the Olympics. Toshiro, it turned out, was much more enthusiastic when he hadn’t just been woken up by a phone call. The plane ride to Sapporo was abuzz with anticipation, every player onboard a livewire. Boone and Toshiro talked more than they had in ages, heads bent together, occasionally interrupted by their teammates. But Toshiro more often than not lowered his voice so only Boone could hear, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like the luckiest man on earth.
“It’s strange…”
The lights were dimmed and the rowdiness from earlier had faded along with them. Toshiro’s brow was furrowed, and he wasn’t looking at Boone.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace, ‘shiro.”
Toshiro punched his shoulder lightly, and Boone chuckled. A couple seconds of silence followed. He seemed to be trying to find the right words.
“I never thought I would play hockey in Japan again.”
That sobered Boone up. He leaned forward and peered into Toshiro’s face. His dark eyes flicked to him for a second but didn’t linger. There was something unnamable in them. Boone didn’t know what to say, so he bumped the toe of his shoe against Toshiro’s. Keep talking.
“There was a time where I would have given anything to go back, but now…” Toshiro’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “I think I found something more important.”
Boone felt something bloom inside his ribcage and he kicked Toshiro’s foot. “Pack it up man, you’re gross.”
“Wh- I just gave you a compliment, asshole”
“Yeah, and it was weird, you’re weird, Toshiro.”
“Oh my god, shut up.”
Boone pulled him into a headlock, and Toshiro spluttered out a laugh as he ruffled his hair. If he’d needed a reason to play well before, he had one now. Toshiro Hironaka thought he was more important than hockey, than going home. He would ride this high for weeks.
And like no time had passed at all, the plane landed, and the US hockey team was ushered into the New Chitose Airport and onto the shuttles to Sapporo. Toshiro hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d landed and he kept grabbing Boone’s arm to point out things as they passed them by.
Time was a blur when they arrived at the athlete’s village. Boone and Toshiro would be rooming together of course. A couple of their teammates, namely Isaac and Harlan, had made fun of them for it, but Boone watched them examine their matching room keys and lug their bags up the stairs together. The Sharks and the Devils had struck up a truce this Olympic season.
They got lost twice trying to find their own room and had to stop to ask the village staff for directions. It wasn’t often that Boone heard Toshiro speak Japanese, but he supposed it was to be expected now. He was grateful for it, especially the second person they’d asked recognised them both and asked for a picture.
“He said his kids are huge fans, and they used to ask if they could get haircuts like yours when they were younger.” Toshiro explained, as they finally came to a stop outside their room.
“See, I told’ja it looked good, I knew what I was doing when I was rookie.” he scoffed. “Those shampoo commercials weren’t cuz I was good at hockey, y’know.”
“Of course not, you’ve never been good at hockey.” Toshiro replied serenely.
“Ughhh, I take it back ‘shiro, rooming with you is gonna suck.”
Toshiro laughed as he opened their door, and beckoned him to follow. Boone rolled his eyes and dragged his suitcase in after him.
The room wasn’t huge, but it didn’t feel cramped. Identical twin beds with stark white sheets sat on either side, and there was a TV fixed to the wall. There was an official Olympic-brand towel on the end of each bed, and a small ensuite, which Toshiro was currently inspecting. Not too different from any hotel room Boone had ever stayed in. There were even what seemed to be mints on the pillows.
“I honestly expected it to be smaller.” Boone set his bags down next to Toshiro’s and looked around the room before sitting down on one of the beds. It made a weird noise and he frowned. “Uh.”
“What?” Toshiro walked out of the bathroom.
“Bedframes.” Boone muttered, bending over and lifting the sheets. “They got us cardboard bedframes for the Olympics, what kinda bullshit—”
Toshiro snorted and ran over to his own bed. “How did you notice that and not these?” Boone looked up to see him holding up one of the mints.
Except.
“Is that a condom.”
Toshiro nodded and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Kinda confused about the message they’re tryna promote here.” Boone said, struggling to keep a straight face as he gave his bed an experimental kick. The damn thing didn’t budge and he laughed. “Feels pretty sturdy though!”
“We can test that later.” Toshiro murmured.
Boone snapped his head up. “Jesus Christ,Toshiro, take me to dinner first!”
“That’s the plan.”
Boone flushed and looked away. “Somethin’ possessed ya when we landed, what is happening.”
“I could always... go by myself. Leave you here..” He walked over to the door, casting a glance over his shoulder. Boone felt something hot flutter in the space between his hips.
“Yeah, uh. That’d be pretty—”
The door clicked shut.
“Toshiro- Toshiro, fuck you, get back here or I swear to god—” Boone scrambled to his feet and burst out into the hallway, which Toshiro was almost at the end of already. He passed two players from the Sweden Team, who gave him a strange look as he went. He nearly pounced on Toshiro to make sure he didn’t get into the elevator.
“You think yer sooo smooth, and- and-” He grabbed Toshiro’s shoulders and shook him.
“I was gonna wait for you, don’t be such a baby!”
“Push the damn button, Hironaka.”
“You do it.”
Boone went even redder. “Yeah, ok.”
The common area of the Olympic village was packed with athletes, all decked out in their team jackets. It may have been freezing outside, but the energy from the room alone was enough to make it disappear for a while.
“So..” Toshiro looked up at Boone. “I have a place in mind. We’re in Sapporo, so you need to try Sapporo beer.”
“Ain’t that against the rules?” Boone teased, nudging Toshiro’s side.
“Well yes, it is, but what if I don’t get another chance to show—”
“Toshiro!”
Toshiro stopped talking and looked around with a frown. Boone glanced at the athlete’s around them too and spotted a man about their age with the brightest eyes he had ever seen in a Team Japan jacket coming towards them.
“Hey, uh, do you know that guy?” Boone asked, tapping Toshiro’s arm and jutting his chin in the guy’s direction. Toshiro turned to look, and his face flooded with recognition.
“Daiki!!” Toshiro broke away from Boone and ran to the other man. Boone’s mouth fell open as the other guy— Daiki, Toshiro had called him— almost lifted Toshiro off of his feet as they crashed into each other for a hug. The minute they broke apart, they immediately began to talk in rapid-fire Japanese, and Boone did not miss how the guy held onto Toshiro’s shoulders.
Boone couldn’t recall ever hearing about a Daiki. Sure, it was possible that Toshiro had at least one friend when he was still living in Japan, but if so wouldn’t they have kept in touch? And wouldn’t Boone have, at best, heard about him? He scuffed his shoes against the carpet and tried to look as though he was occupied with something on his phone, but just then he heard his own name being called.
He looked up, and saw Toshiro waving him over. He gritted his teeth and made it look like a grin as he jogged over.
“Boone, this is Daiki Yamada.” Toshiro beamed. He never beamed. Boone’s own smile was well-practiced, but it almost faltered at this.
“Good to meetcha, I’m Boone Darlington.” He stuck out his hand, and Daiki took it in both of his and shook it enthusiastically.
“Hi!!! My uh, my English is not great, sorry, but I’ve heard so much about you!” Daiki glanced at Toshiro and then back at him. “I watch your games when I’m not busy with..” He smiled cheekily and mimed hitting a hockey puck.
“Yeah uh, must be fun to watch Toshiro beat the shit outta me.”
Daiki’s face went serious. “No no, not only Sharks and Devils games, other Devils games too. Other than Toshiro, you’re my favourite player.”
Boone flushed and looked away. There was no way this guy was real. “Thanks, I uh.. ain’t ever seen you play, I’m sorry to say.”
Daiki switched back to Japanese and dipped his head.
“He said he doesn’t mind, he knows how busy we get. We barely have time to facetime these days.” Toshiro elbowed Daiki and he elbowed him back.
These days. Boone tried not to dwell on it, but it was already cemented in his brain. “Soo.. guessin’ y’all met… when, like before Toshiro left?”
“God, before we were teenagers I think, but I’m not—” He shifted to Japanese mid-sentence and looked up at Daiki who nodded and bent his knees so he only came up to Toshiro’s shoulder. Toshiro laughed again and nodded, “Yeah, a while ago.”
“Huh…” Again, Boone couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t know about this guy. They broke off into Japanese again, and Boone really felt like he shouldn’t be there. Something ugly was pooling in his stomach, and he just wanted to go to the place Toshiro had been so excited to show him.
“We should go eat somewhere!” Daiki said, patting Boone’s shoulder. It was like the guy was reading his mind. “It’s your first time here, it should be special.”
“I was gonna take him to the Beer Garden tonight, let him try real Sapporo beer.” Toshiro replied, bumping his foot against Boone’s. Daiki’s face lit up.
“Oh, we were going there later! I can talk to my team, change the plan.”
Toshiro’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? If it’s a team thing, I don’t want—”
Daiki ruffled Toshiro’s hair and shook his head. “They want to meet you.” He looked pointedly at Boone and smiled. “You and Boone.”
Boone glanced at Toshiro.
There was a time where I would have given anything to go back.
Toshiro looked up at Boone. “You don’t mind if we tag along, right?”
It physically pained him to shrug and say “Sure, why not?”
The Sapporo Beer Garden was a beautiful old building, Boone would give it that. The interior was all warm light and wood and high ceilings, and the Beer Garden logo— a star flanked by two bears, and in German for some reason— was painted on the left and right walls.
Daiki and his teammates led them to a big table in the middle of the hall. There were upper levels that overlooked the main floor, but Daiki, through Toshiro, explained that they would get their beer faster if they sat closer to the taps. The Beer Garden also served food apparently, which they would need if they were going to be drinking.
“Daiki and I are gonna go order, we’re just gonna get a bunch of different things so you can find something you like.” Toshiro said quickly, and then he was gone.
This was starting to get old, Boone thought. All he had wanted was an evening with Toshiro. Just one, before the games officially started. No one would say anything about two players on the USA team going out together. The news wouldn’t get back to his father, and he would be free, for one goddamn night. He had never, never gone to a place like this with Toshiro before, it was always fast food between games or shitty hors d'oeuvres at award ceremonies. He scowled at the couples on the upper levels and he wished he were in their shoes.
Which was a crazy thing to think. Him and Toshiro weren’t dating, they weren’t even in love. He was his best friend and his number 1 rival for all time who he just happened to hook up with. They weren’t anything official, they weren’t exclusive. They couldn’t afford to be, and they were so busy during seasons they genuinely didn’t have time for it. They texted, sure, but it wasn’t the same as being in bed together. Boone’s eyes wandered until they found Toshiro again.
God, what a treat it was to look at him and see that they were wearing the same colors. Toshiro had an NTC in his contract that he had requested to keep him strictly on West Coast teams. When questioned about it by the press, Toshiro had given no comment, but Boone knew it was because he wanted to be close to his mom. That strangely noble and heart-warming fact, along with Albert Darlington’s very public intentions to keep Boone in the Devils until he retired, meant that they would never play on the same team outside of All-Stars.
Toshiro laughed again, and it lit up the entire beer hall. It was the happiest Boone had ever seen him in his entire life, and it made him feel violently ill. Mere hours ago, he had felt like the one man lucky enough to get a patch of sunlight in the middle of a storm while everyone around him was drenched to the bone. He had never seen Toshiro so excited about anything in his life, and he had no idea what he would have done if he had decided to play for Japan now. He was looking at Daiki now, with a tenderness he had never seen in his eyes before. If Boone had known him longer would he look at him the same? His heart burned something fierce and it began to eat away at his ribs.
Had Toshiro forgotten the plane already? Surely not, he never said anything unless he meant it, he was weird that way, and oh how Boone wouldn’t change a single thing about him. Toshiro still thought he was the most important thing, right? Their friendship, their rivalry, their nights together. He had never felt like this before, it had all started with Toshiro. The man he’d hated in the beginning who he could not quit now. What did any of this mean? He knew they weren’t exclusive, but Toshiro had never entered a relationship with anyone else before, and neither had Boone. Could they be more than friends who slept together? Was that even possible? They were already taking incredible risks with their current arrangement, but Boone felt greedy all of a sudden.
Compared to Daiki he was no one. This guy was genuinely good, in his looks, in his manners, in his heart, and no doubt in his play if he was competing in the damn Olympics. Boone was a bad person, he was aggressive on the ice and a bastard to his teammates, and he was pretty sure the only reason his father loved him was because he was still one of the best hockey players the United States had ever seen. He’d ruined Toshiro’s reputation during their rookie season, and though that had faded, it still reared its ugly head when Toshiro had a bad day on the ice. He needed to show him somehow, that he was good, that he was still someone worth looking at. He wanted to hear Toshiro tell him that he was good, for him to make the world right as he had when he’d said of course I’m playing for the US, why would I ever leave you?
“Boone?”
Boone blinked and Toshiro appeared amidst his haze. He had a tray in his hands piled high with all sorts of dishes. Boone felt nauseous again, but he smiled up at him anyway. Toshiro took the seat next to him and started passing out the plates. One of Daiki’s teammates called to Toshiro across the table, and Boone felt himself slip to the backburner again. It was fine. There would be other nights. There would be other nights.
The food looked amazing but it didn’t translate onto Boone’s tongue at all. Chew, swallow, smile, nod like he understood, he could do this. Every so often, Toshiro would nudge his arm and encourage him to try something else, and god help him Boone didn’t want to disappoint. His mind wandered all over the place as the conversation continued around him, only broken when Toshiro half-translated a joke that he had missed here and there. Anything would be better than staring at the wall, and so he looked at Toshiro again. The light only seemed to accentuate everything that Calvin Klein had praised him for during their ad campaign, broad shoulders, serious dark eyes, plush lips, those moles beneath his left eye. Boone was starting to feel dizzy. He wished he paid more attention to the small things when he slept with Toshiro. He closed his eyes and frowned, trying to shoo the image from his mind, but he couldn’t help it he really couldn’t. He was sick, he was at the Olympics and all he could think about was how much he wanted to be naked with his teammate again, to be slow as he never usually was, and just drink him in.
Toshiro really did sound even more attractive when he spoke Japanese and Boone wondered if it would be weird to ask him to speak it more around him. With translations, if that also wasn’t weird. Boone really was starting to feel like he should go back to the village before he started feeling worse. Maybe hit up Harlan and find some shitty dive bar instead. But that would be so rude, wouldn’t it? And Toshiro would be disappointed. His chest really was starting to hurt now and all he wanted was for Toshiro to look at him.
Daiki said something in Japanese to Toshiro, and whatever it was made Toshiro blush.
“What’d he say?” Boone said before he could stop himself.
Toshiro shook his head and waved him off. “Nothing, I swear.”
Boone’s stomach dropped. “Oh.”
The plates had been moved to the middle of the table as the last couple of Team Japan players finished eating, and Boone stared at the empty space in front of him. His eyes were starting to sting, and he needed to lay down. Whatever game this was, he was losing, and he couldn’t bear it anymore. The varnish on the table crept into his nose and he tried not to groan. Around him the conversation seemed to falter, and he flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Boone?”
Boone sat up again and found that both Toshiro and Daiki were looking at him, Daiki with concern, and Toshiro with… Boone decided it was better not to place it.
“You…” Toshiro frowned, “You ok?”
He was bringing the mood down. Boone could have kicked himself. “Nah, I’m just tired ‘shiro.” Toshiro’s frown didn’t ease, and Boone cleared his throat. “Excited to try the beer though!”
Daiki smiled and said something to another one of his teammates and they jumped to their feet. Toshiro was finally looking at him, but it was wrong. Boone was doing a shitty job of showing him he was someone to keep around. Toshiro’s hand was still on his shoulder and Boone, ill as he was already, wished he could rest his head against it.
“You sure you’re just tired?” Toshiro asked him softly, and Boone couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed by the way it soothed him. He had a choice to make, for what to say. He had to pick the right one.
He smiled. As warmly as he could muster. “Yeah… Plane ride took a lot outta me.. Just sittin’ back, ‘n watchin’ ya have a good time. Don’t worry about me, ‘shiro.”
Toshiro didn’t look convinced, but Daiki reappeared with an armful of beer mugs and the table cheered. They passed them around, cheers’ed them, and started getting to work.
The beer was sweeter than any Boone had tried before, and to be fair that wasn’t very many. Alcohol was not a vice he preferred, but he indulged from time to time. He sipped slowly. He didn’t want to make his insides feel worse than they already did, and he also really really didn’t want to get drunk around Toshiro. Not here, anyway, not in front of these people. A pleasant haze started to cling to his frazzled mind, and he would admit, it was a welcome change. But watching Daiki across from Toshiro kept him tethered in the worst possible way.
Boone set his beer down and leaned back in his seat. He could see more of Toshiro this way. He wasn’t drunk, he was barely even tipsy, but he felt greedy again. He moved his chair closer to Toshiro’s, and Toshiro shifted so that their legs touched. The contact ran through Boone like an electrical current and it made him hope for a second. Maybe, just maybe… He grabbed his beer and took another sip, for confidence for luck, whatever, and he leaned his head against Toshiro’s shoulder. His gaze travelled down to his thighs, where one of his hands rested. It was under the table away from prying eyes.
He reached for it just as Toshiro moved his hand, and ended up touching his thigh. Toshiro shivered but continued taking a sip of his own beer. He’d given him an inch and Boone really wanted a mile. He moved his hand up slowly, rubbing little circles with his thumb. It was subtle, it was discreet, and Toshiro sighed and—
He jerked his leg away.
“Not now, Boone.” he hissed. “Not here.”
No injury he had ever incurred on the ice had hurt like this. Boone snatched his hand away and straightened up in his seat. What was wrong with him, why had he done that? Toshiro didn’t look at him, and said something in Japanese that he just wished he could understand. He would sit completely still for the rest of the night, he promised himself.
And he did. He watched Toshiro’s glass grow emptier and his smile grow wider and felt like death warmed up. He didn’t want to check his phone or even his watch for the time. He couldn’t mess up a third time or he would be out.
“Shit. Shit.” Toshiro muttered. “It’s way past curfew we need to go, Boone c’mon on your feet.”
Boone could have cried with relief. They were finally going back. He stood there, spaced out as Daiki grabbed Toshiro into another hug and flashed another smile at Boone before running over to him and doing the same. He pulled back and looked into Boone’s face.
“I’m so glad I met you.”
Shut up Daiki.
Boone Darlington of Team USA. World-class asshole.
“See you on the ice, Yamada.”
Usually, sneaking out and back into places was Boone’s idea of a good time, but not when he was being led by the hand like a kid, and not when he felt like his world was ending. Toshiro was tipsy and disoriented and Boone wanted nothing more than to laugh his ass off about it. He would have, if tonight had gone differently.
The lobby, which had been packed with people when they left for the Beer Garden, was now eerily quiet. Toshiro paused and dug in his pocket for their room key.
“Boone, do you remember our room number?”
Boone shook his head. He really hadn’t been focused on that when they arrived.
“Y’all’re on the third floor, if I recall. Room 17.”
Boone and Toshiro both jumped and whipped around, perhaps the most connected they’d been all night, Boone thought miserably. One of their teammates walked up to them out of the darkness. Jesse Valero, of the Dallas Marshals. He was a damn good player, incredibly focused. And also another person Toshiro had a weird connection with. Boone groaned.
“Scared the hell out of me…” Toshiro exhaled. “Why are you down here?”
Jesse stared at him. “Saw you and Darlington leave, wanted to make sure y’all didn’t do nothing stupid…” He flicked his gaze to Boone. “Hell’s wrong with him, anyway?”
“Hey Jesse…”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t wanna know actually… Look, get outta here ok? You’re lucky it was me instead of a janitor or something.”
Toshiro apologised profusely and led Boone over to the elevator. They were quiet on the ride up. Boone stared at Toshiro forlornly. He needed to make it up to him somehow. He missed him, he wanted to touch him and remind him that he was still there. The floor dinged, and they got off. In the dim light of the halls, Boone stared at Toshiro’s neck. There was a mole right over his pulse and Boone’s mouth went dry as he imagined sucking it, running his tongue over the point. He reached for Toshiro’s hand again, falling short both times. He needed him like he needed air.
They stopped outside their room, and Toshiro began unlocking the door, fumbling a couple of times before succeeding. He looked over his shoulder and smiled.
All of Boone’s twisted horrible emotions from earlier resurfaced, his want, his jealousy, his insecurity pushing him forward. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
Toshiro stepped over the threshold. “Daiki said to tell you he hopes you feel—”
Boone grabbed the collar of Toshiro’s Team USA jacket and kissed him, hot and open-mouthed. Toshiro gasped against him and the sound alone made Boone’s head reel. Their door clicked shut, and Boone pressed him up against it. He could taste the beer on Toshiro’s tongue, and it reminded much too much of the hell he’d endured to get here. He changed pace, moved along Toshiro’s jaw and down his throat, sucking and biting his neck, forehead bumping against his ear and jawbone. Toshiro tilted his head back with a groan and Boone continued hungrily, grinding his hips against Toshiro’s. Forget him, forget everyone but me echoed and echoed in Boone’s mind like a prayer as heat flooded his body. He needed more. He needed Toshiro to know that he hadn’t made a mistake when he’d said he was important.
“Boone, what’s- what brought this—” Boone kissed him again, teeth clacking. Toshiro grabbed the nape of Boone’s neck and tried to look him in the eyes but Boone was a man possessed. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Toshiro’s pants and tugged him to the middle of the room before falling to his knees, crotch pushed up against Toshiro’s shoes. He gazed up at him, lips parted and drenched in spit. He knew he looked pathetic, but maybe Toshiro would take pity on him if nothing else.
Toshiro stared down at him, shoulders heaving. His hair was messed up, his collar was askew and he had the prettiest flush across his beautiful face and goddamn it, it was because of Boone. He rocked his hips experimentally and his mouth fell open into a moan. He nosed against Toshiro’s crotch and ran his tongue over the fabric, which made his knees buckle for a second. A strangled noise left his throat. Boone could feel his cock through his pants and he closed his eyes, hanging onto Toshiro’s hips with his unworthy hands. Toshiro’s hands slid into his hair, and he pulled his head back. He looked like an angel or something, bruises and bitemarks peppered along his neck and hair falling over those gorgeous dark eyes. Boone tilted his face into Toshiro’s palms and exhaled shakily.
“Hey… What’s this about?”
Boone dug his fingers further into Toshiro’s hips and gasped
“Look at me, Boone.”
That brought a whine out of Boone’s throat, and he did what he was told. “I missed ya…” He rolled his hips again and nearly cried out as Toshiro shifted his foot.
“You were so quiet at dinner…Daiki-”
Boone gritted his teeth. “Nevermind Daiki, Toshiro, please just- just..”
Toshiro tugged at his hair. “Hey..”
He was starting to get desperate. “Please let me do this Toshiro, tell me I’m good, I wanna be good for ya.” He lifted Toshiro's shirt and bumped his nose against his stomach, grazing his waistband with his lips. Toshiro shuddered and ran his fingers along Boone's scalp. All he had to do was say the word.
“Show me.”
Boone grabbed Toshiro's waistband with his teeth and tore them. His cock strained against his boxers but Boone made himself look before diving in. Toshiro had moles on his thighs and as he eased him free, he noticed one just at the base. Pre-cum salted his tongue as he swirled it over the tip and licked a long stripe up to meet it. Toshiro swore and tightened his grip on Boone's hair, urging him on. Boone panted and took Toshiro into his mouth properly, gagging as it hit the back of his throat.
“Boone, f- fuck.” Toshiro brought one of his hands up to his mouth. “They're gonna hear us.”
Boone didn't particularly care about that right now. He wanted to hear Toshiro, memorize every sound he made. Everything he had done up until now would be meaningless if he didn't make it known to Toshiro just how much he adored him.
He hummed and bobbed his head, lightly grazing his teeth along his cock. Toshiro moaned against his hand and lurched forward. Boone gratefully took him down his throat again, picking up the pace and relishing in the noises that came tumbling from Toshiro’s lips. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he gagged again but he wasn’t put off. Toshiro stroked his forehead with his free hand and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Boone leaned into Toshiro’s touch like he was starved for it and leveraged himself so that he was properly fucking his throat, almost sounding like a wounded animal as he did.
“Boone, don’t hurt yoursel—” Toshiro braced himself against Boone’s shoulder and gasped. “Boone.” He grabbed a handful of Boone’s hair and yanked him off of his cock, breathing heavily. Boone gazed up at Toshiro and from the way he stared back at him, Boone knew his both pupils were dilated twice their usual size. He leaned his head against Toshiro’s thigh, and smiled against him, drool running down his chin.
“You ain’t hurtin’ me ‘shiro, you never could.” His voice was hoarse and bruised. “I want this to be good for you, I- ” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. I need you to see that I can give without taking something from you. To prove that I’m worthy of you, of this. Of being someone important to you.
“It is..” Toshiro murmured. “You’re so good for me, Boone, you’re so good.” He loosened his grip on Boone’s hair and trailed his hand down to the nape of his neck. Boone’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head and he whimpered. “Take me to bed.”
Boone snapped his head up. Toshiro’s eyes darkened but didn’t lose any of their tenderness. Boone felt like his chest might explode. This was all that he had wanted and Toshiro was offering him more. “Y’know I’d uh.. I’d sit here all night if you asked”
“Mmhm…” Toshiro stepped out of his pants fully and guided Boone to his feet. Boone followed, completely entranced, undressing himself as he did. He watched Toshiro lay back and spread his legs, his mouth going completely dry. “And if I asked for this instead?”
Boone couldn’t falter now. He crawled onto the bed and pressed a kiss to Toshiro’s propped up knee, another further up the thigh, and another and another. “I think you know ‘shiro…”
And he started again in earnest. Toshiro called out his name and caressed his face and every so often brought him up to kiss him, becoming less and less coherent as he continued. Boone chased his mumblings fervently. All his worries from the Beer Garden dissipated in the face of Toshiro’s pleasure.
He would have been content to let Toshiro use his mouth and the rest of him as he pleased, but Toshiro didn’t want that. He trailed his hands up and down Boone’s back. He held his face, and stroked his hair so tenderly it made Boone feel ill. He ran his tongue along the underside of Toshiro’s cock, and felt his movements grow more and more erratic.
“Hey, uh- oh fuck, Boone—”
Boone looked up at him through his lashes and took him deeper into his throat. Toshiro arched his back and gasped, his face crumpling as Boone swallowed his release. He was beautiful. He was so beautiful. Boone hummed and the sensation made Toshiro buck into his mouth again.
Slowly, Boone got off of Toshiro and he pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh and rubbed his hips. Toshiro stroked his cheek with his thumb, looking completely and utterly blissed out.
“Want me to take care of yours?”
Boone shook his head. “Nah… this was about you ‘shiro, don’t worry about me.” Toshiro gazed at him through half-lidded eyes and reached forward. His fingers brushed against Boone’s dick and Oh god it made his entire body shudder and he nearly choked on his spit. He clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, but Toshiro just laughed kindly and rubbed his arm.
“There’s lube in my carry-on… I wanna see you finish.”
Boone nearly fell off the bed in his enthusiasm and moments later he found himself grinding against Toshiro’s thigh. He was taking it slow, for Toshiro’s sake more than his, and he spared no amount of affection. With one hand he stroked the inside of Toshiro’s thigh, and with the other he cupped Toshiro’s chest and massaged it. He missed having him in his mouth, but he wanted to give his spent cock a break and so he lavished his attention on one of his nipples instead.
When he came, he tucked his head into the crook of Toshiro’s neck and bit down as he spilled over his hip. Sweaty and shaky, but both utterly euphoric they lay in each other’s arms for a moment. Toshiro pressed an uncoordinated kiss to Boone’s temple and Boone listened to the sound of Toshiro’s heartbeat. He shifted slightly and cringed at the feeling of his cum between him and Toshiro. He moved to get up and Toshiro reached for his hand, frowning a little.
“Gonna grab a washcloth, be right back.” he said softly. Toshiro relaxed and settled back again.
Boone caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and nearly laughed. He looked like a mess. He rinsed his mouth out and ran one of their towels under warm water. He cleaned himself off and rinsed it for Toshiro.
He made his way back into the main room and found Toshiro staring up at him, dark eyes watery. He frowned and hurried over to him. “Hey, hey now ‘shiro, I’m here, ok? I’m here…” Toshiro leaned his head against Boone’s shoulder as he wiped him clean, occasionally shuddering from overstimulation. Boone paused when he did, and rubbed his back, murmuring what he hoped were sweet nothings. They made Toshiro smile, so maybe they weren’t all bad.
When he finished, he tossed the towel in the general direction of the bathroom and glanced at the other bed.
“Well ain’t we lucky.”
Toshiro snorted at this. “You’re gonna have to carry me.”
Boone raised an eyebrow. “Now Mr Hironaka, I ain’t a rookie no more. Don’t you insult me like that.”
He stood and lifted Toshiro into his arms, to which he showed no resistance. He breathed in deeply and exhaled as Boone laid him down and crawled in next to him
“You’re so good to me, Boone..” He whispered it, in that same voice he had used on the plane. Boone’s chest panged and he slung his arm around Toshiro’s waist. It was all he had wanted to hear, and tonight he just wanted to let it be.
Tonight he would lay there with Toshiro and soak him in and no one would take that away from him.