BSDAWGZ

"You have to mix it with developer, idiot. Are you sure you can even do this?"

As you hover above him, squinting at the white plastic bottle in your hand, Tachihara raises his brow at you dubiously. "Shut up," you snap defensively. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

All he can do is roll his eyes, sighing to himself as you squeeze the bottle's contents into the mixing bowl– "Whatever."

"Come here," you mumble, gesturing at him to sit down. It's been months since you'd last seen Tachihara because of an overseas mission, and his hair had overgrown into a black mullet, bangs falling into amber eyes and trailing down his neck in soft sweeps. He looks kind of cute like this, you think to yourself affectionately, though an impatient "What's taking you so damn long–?" soon interrupts your musing, making you scoff out loud and remember just how fucking annoying your boyfriend can be. "Jesus, relax– and did you even comb your hair today?" you mutter, running your fingers through tangled tresses.

"Shuuush." He finally sinks into the chair, spreading his legs and relaxing as he feels your fingers massage his scalp. You trace the nape of his neck with your fingers, your hands smoothing over the broad expanse of his shoulders before lingering just a little longer over the muscles of his back. You sigh, taking a little bit of time to admire him. You know you should be mixing the developer right now. You know this... but being away from him for so long, you can't help but want to touch him just a little bit more– especially when he looks so good like this, shirtless with his hair disheveled, and– "Mm, what are you even doing back there?" he mumbles, throwing a glance back.

"Mmm!? Nothing!" you stammer, quickly returning to mixing the developer.

"Mhm, okay, sure," he retorts, but you can hear the grin in his voice. Cheeky bastard. "You know, if you wanna kiss me, just say so~" he teases, turning around to grab at your waist–

– and before you know it, that red hair dye is spilling over, all over your shirt and your bathroom floor.

"See, I told you that you'd fuck it up," he groans exaggeratedly.

"Hahhh? You're the one who knocked it over!" you exclaim. "– and I liked this shirt, too," you complain.

You're still going off about just how much you like the shirt – his shirt that you "borrowed" a long time ago, by the way, though you seem to have forgotten that detail– and he's keeping your pawing hands at bay and chuckling as you flail about. "Fuck, okay, I'm sorry," he admits. "Hey, relax, relax, I’m sorry. Alright? No point in arguing anymore. Come on, don't tell me we're not at least gonna finish what we started?" he grins, helping you out of your top and discarding it in the laundry.

What we started–? "That was all of the dye, Michi," you hiss, still irritated. "What is there to finish?"

"Me."

–

It's been too long– way too long. You can feel it in the way Tachihara grabs you, urgency in every touch, like he'd been holding back the entire time since he'd returned to Japan. You wonder why it took so long to get to this moment in the first place– why the fuck were you both so concerned with dyeing his hair red, anyway? Who even cares about that shit?

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his face is buried between your thighs, one hand holding up your leg as he drags his tongue inside you and the other hand intertwined with yours. Tachihara has always been a messy eater, hungry to taste more of you and ready to indulge you, and this morning is no exception; you gasp out as he laps you up sloppily, his fingertips digging into the plush of your skin as he presses his face against you eagerly, turned on by the wet sound of his mouth slurping up your sweet pussy. "Fuuuuck, now there's that face I missed..." he muses as he glances up at your expression, a wicked grin on his lips. "We spent too much time bickering when we could have been fucking all morning long."

You watch in anticipation as Tachihara rolls on a condom, then yelp out as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you toward the edge of the bed where he’s standing. "Breathe, baby," he whispers reassuringly as he towers over you, caressing the side of your face. No matter how many months it's been, your body's no stranger to your boyfriend– or so you thought, but the feeling of being stretched by Tachihara after so long has you wincing, remembering just how full he really makes you feel. You let out a stifled sound, something like a whimper, when you feel the thick head push past your folds, your fingers helplessly grasping at the blankets beneath you. "You can take it– just like that, good, doing so good for me."

You take another deep breath like he instructed– and you feel Tachihara pull out just briefly, then finally push himself back inside of you until he bottoms out completely. He lets out a quiet hiss, fingertips burrowing into your skin before he drags your hips against his in slow, patient strokes. "Missed these sweet lips," he whispers, circling his thumb over the soft plump of your lips, watching you open your mouth obediently to wet it on your tongue. "– And I missed these tits of course," he says, reaching to grope at one of your breasts with his free hand, the other still firmly gripping your waist. You whine out for him as he tugs on a nipple, roughly, smearing your own saliva across them. "You're always so sensitive here, making those cute little sounds...” he teases with a soft flick that sends a pulse straight to your core.

You whimper, covering your blushing face as he continues to play with your nipples, alternating between the now overstimulated buds. Your hips jolt, hands fisting at the sheets. You try to stifle the sound of your cries, but it's no use– before you know it, you’re a moaning mess, rolling your hips desperately toward his. Even with your face hidden by your hands, you can feel his gaze hot on you, that arrogant smirk on his lips as he watches you writhe underneath him. “Michi– ngh… Michi... Please, fuck me harder… please.”

"Mm?” he coos, “Yeah, okay,” he whispers hotly, moving his fingers in between your legs to rub your clit, his other hand squeezing your waist.

You feel him haul you closer, spreading your thighs further apart until you feel like you’re just about to be split open. Then, he pulls the entirety of his length out of you before slamming himself so deep inside with a “Fuck, so good,” muttered under his breath. His pace quickens, each thrust with more force than the last as his thumb continues rubbing on your clit– and there’s nowhere to hide now as you reach your climax. His name spills from you like a faucet, broken syllables until your body convulses underneath him.

“Close, I’m gonna come, I’m –..." he stammers out, and just like that, he unravels, fingertips burrowing into your flesh as he fucks into you harder, desperately chasing after his orgasm. You pull him close, tangling your fingers in his hair, kissing him recklessly as he falters, as his hips stutter, as warmth blooms inside you. He’s so gorgeous, so fucking perfect, you think to yourself as he finally finishes.

“You missed me that much, huh?” you poke at him playfully, sitting up and planting a quick kiss on his lips. It’s your time to tease him now, you think to yourself. “I didn’t know you were the sentimental type~"

“Oh, and you’re not?” he pants out, still catching his breath. “I know, hm, it’s almost as if I love you or something, right?" he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

You blush, then pull him into your arms. “I love you, too,” you tell him. “And I missed you. Welcome back.”