![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: make me so: 15 - sweet and passionate
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 623
Summary:
He said it so casually, when they woke together in the same bed; Masayoshi’s hair tousled and spiked funny, blue eyes drowsy and smile still bright even as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. He would cup Gotou’s face, touch gentle and warm, chirp his good mornings and crawl over Gotou to find whomever’s phone was going off relentlessly.
Masayoshi would say it over breakfast – or the coffee that Gotou thought of as breakfast, sitting bleary-eyed at the table and squinting at the television screen as Masayoshi puttered around in the background getting ready for his day, rambling because he knew that Gotou wasn’t really listening. He knew now at what point into the mug of coffee Gotou started paying attention, although he had yet to use this observation for anything untoward that Gotou was aware.
He liked to touch. He would brush his fingers through Gotou’s hair, lean over him and kiss the top of his head – he was smiling, Gotou could feel it in his skin, that silly-content expression he wore often. He’d murmur it then, as if Gotou couldn’t hear him, arms draped over his shoulders and chin resting on the top of his head.
Masayoshi had no fear of the words, he wasn’t skittish around them the way that Gotou was. He didn’t treat them like a precious commodity, he gave them the same value when they parted for the day, Gotou in his dress uniform and Masayoshi in a hooded jacket, as when they were in bed together - Gotou inside him, pressing him down into the bed, Masayoshi’s legs locked tight over his hips. He would gasp the words then, his voice quavering – love you so much, Gotou-san – he made it sound like a prayer, and maybe it was, in a way.
Masayoshi underneath him, face red and sweat dripping down his jaw, smile so bright he could blind Gotou, so pleased, pliant, satiated – “I love you, Gotou-san.”
“Yeah,” Gotou said, the words twisting up out of him, emerging from deep within. They were true the first time he’d said them, quiet and faltering, and they were no less true right now, his heart so full it felt like he would burst. “I love you too.”
Masayoshi put both his hands on Gotou’s face, palms on his cheeks, his own eyes closed tight. “Don’t stop,” he said, and Gotou could see the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, the tightness of his jaw even as he never stopped smiling. Gotou chose to take him literally, never halting the motion of his hips, never slowing down, Masayoshi’s arms moving over his shoulders, around his neck to hang on tight.
“Love you,” Gotou said, grunted – his words were running into Masayoshi’s, the syllables entangling as Masayoshi kept moaning the words, over and over, rocking against him, begging for his release. He was still afraid if he said it too much it would lose all meaning, but Masayoshi hadn’t lost it, and he said it a dozen times a day.
“Love you,” Gotou said again, into Masayoshi’s hair as they lay tangled together afterward, Masayoshi’s breath steady and even against his skin, Gotou’s arms wrapped tight over his shoulders, holding him close. “I love you, Masayoshi.”
“Mm,” Masayoshi said, orgasm-addled and drowsy, into his skin. “You’re my favorite marshmallow.”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 623
Summary:
He said it so casually, when they woke together in the same bed; Masayoshi’s hair tousled and spiked funny, blue eyes drowsy and smile still bright even as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. He would cup Gotou’s face, touch gentle and warm, chirp his good mornings and crawl over Gotou to find whomever’s phone was going off relentlessly.
Masayoshi would say it over breakfast – or the coffee that Gotou thought of as breakfast, sitting bleary-eyed at the table and squinting at the television screen as Masayoshi puttered around in the background getting ready for his day, rambling because he knew that Gotou wasn’t really listening. He knew now at what point into the mug of coffee Gotou started paying attention, although he had yet to use this observation for anything untoward that Gotou was aware.
He liked to touch. He would brush his fingers through Gotou’s hair, lean over him and kiss the top of his head – he was smiling, Gotou could feel it in his skin, that silly-content expression he wore often. He’d murmur it then, as if Gotou couldn’t hear him, arms draped over his shoulders and chin resting on the top of his head.
Masayoshi had no fear of the words, he wasn’t skittish around them the way that Gotou was. He didn’t treat them like a precious commodity, he gave them the same value when they parted for the day, Gotou in his dress uniform and Masayoshi in a hooded jacket, as when they were in bed together - Gotou inside him, pressing him down into the bed, Masayoshi’s legs locked tight over his hips. He would gasp the words then, his voice quavering – love you so much, Gotou-san – he made it sound like a prayer, and maybe it was, in a way.
Masayoshi underneath him, face red and sweat dripping down his jaw, smile so bright he could blind Gotou, so pleased, pliant, satiated – “I love you, Gotou-san.”
“Yeah,” Gotou said, the words twisting up out of him, emerging from deep within. They were true the first time he’d said them, quiet and faltering, and they were no less true right now, his heart so full it felt like he would burst. “I love you too.”
Masayoshi put both his hands on Gotou’s face, palms on his cheeks, his own eyes closed tight. “Don’t stop,” he said, and Gotou could see the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, the tightness of his jaw even as he never stopped smiling. Gotou chose to take him literally, never halting the motion of his hips, never slowing down, Masayoshi’s arms moving over his shoulders, around his neck to hang on tight.
“Love you,” Gotou said, grunted – his words were running into Masayoshi’s, the syllables entangling as Masayoshi kept moaning the words, over and over, rocking against him, begging for his release. He was still afraid if he said it too much it would lose all meaning, but Masayoshi hadn’t lost it, and he said it a dozen times a day.
“Love you,” Gotou said again, into Masayoshi’s hair as they lay tangled together afterward, Masayoshi’s breath steady and even against his skin, Gotou’s arms wrapped tight over his shoulders, holding him close. “I love you, Masayoshi.”
“Mm,” Masayoshi said, orgasm-addled and drowsy, into his skin. “You’re my favorite marshmallow.”
