HOSHI FIGHTING

you were older, more resolved, more used to the weight of things. he was lighter, softer around the edges, still figuring himself out in ways you had already gone through years ago. and eventually, somehow, he had become your person.  if anything, it showed in the way he listened more carefully than most people your age, in the way he paid attention to details others brushed off, in the way he stayed when conversations got too heavy for everyone else.

so that night, when the conversation drifted the way it did, it didn’t feel strange at first.

you were already a little tipsy, the warmth of the alcohol sitting comfortably in your chest, loosening your thoughts just enough that you stopped filtering them so carefully. he was sitting beside you, legs stretched out, head tilted back against the couch, listening in that careful way he always did, like everything you said mattered more than it probably should.

“you know what’s the worst part?” you said, staring at your bottle, turning it slowly between your fingers.

“hm?” he hummed, not even looking at you, but you knew he was listening.

“breaking up,” you continued, your voice softer now, more honest than you usually allowed yourself to be. “everyone talks about missing the person, or the routine, or whatever… but no one talks about missing the sex.”

that made him glance at you.

you didn’t look back. you just kept talking, because once you started, it felt easier to let it out than to stop. 

when you finally turned your head, he was already watching you, brows slightly drawn together like he was thinking too hard about something.

“what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes a little.

he hesitated.

and that was new.

chan didn’t usually hesitate with you.

he looked down at his hands for a second, then back up “i mean…” he started, voice uncertain. “i could help you with that.”

and for a second, you thought you had heard him wrong.

you blinked. “what?”

he let out a small breath, like he was already regretting saying it, but he didn’t take it back. instead, he looked at you properly this time “i’m just saying,” he continued, slower now, choosing his words more cautiously. “you don’t have to… miss it. if you don’t want to.”

you stared at him, trying to process what he had just said, but your mind kept getting stuck on the same thing. he wasn’t joking. there was no teasing tone, no playful smile, no easy way to brush it off and laugh like you usually would.

he meant it, and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was, how his knee was almost touching yours, how his arm rested along the back of the couch, just behind you, how his eyes hadn’t left your face since he said it.

“chan…” 

he swallowed, and you noticed it “i know it sounds weird,” he said quickly, a small, nervous laugh slipping out. “i just— i thought… you know. we trust each other. and it wouldn’t have to be a big deal or anything.”

you let out a slow breath, your heart beating a little faster than it should, because the thing is, he wasn’t wrong. you did trust him, more than most people.

“you’re serious…” 

“yeah,” he answered, just as quietly.

you looked at him again, and it hit you in a way it hadn’t before. chan had always been attractive, in that effortless, boyish way you had never let yourself think too much about. it had never mattered, because he was yours in a different way, untouchable in that sense. and it unsettled you, not because it felt wrong, but because it didn’t feel as impossible as it should.

“and then what? we just… go back to normal?”

he hesitated again, but not for long “if that’s what you want,” he said. “yeah.”

you studied him for a moment, searching for something in his expression; doubt, hesitation, anything that would make this easier to dismiss. but all you found was sincerity, because now the choice was yours. you leaned back against the couch, your head resting where his arm was stretched out behind you, and neither of you moved away.

“you’re insane,” you murmured, but there was no bite to it.

he huffed out a quiet laugh. “i’ve been told.”

you closed your eyes for a second, trying to gather your thoughts, but they refused to settle into anything clear. then uou opened your eyes again, turning your head slightly until you were looking at him.

“you really thought this through?” you asked.

he gave a small shrug, “more than i should have, probably.”

and just like that the air between you two shifts thick and heavy like the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to say yes or no. but you dont say shit, you just look at him this easy boy who’s always been your safe place, and something in your chest cracks open. because it feels too real too ordinary to be this charged.

the way his eyes drop to your mouth, then lower, like he’s been thinking about this longer than he let on. you swallow hard heart hammering stupid in your ribs and mutter “okay chan fuck it show me what you got” your voice casual but your thighs press together a little, because you’re already wet just from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters right now.

he doesn’t waste time, doesn’t make it weird or movie perfect, he just leans in slow his hand sliding up your thigh under the hem of your loose shorts. the calluses on his fingers rough in the best way scraping lightly over your skin, making you shiver and think; shit this is chan,  your chan, the one who brings you coffee without asking.

and now his breath is hot against your inner thigh as he tugs your shorts and panties down in one go, leaving you bare on the couch cushions the cool air hits your pussy, and you feel yourself clench around nothing, already dripping a little because your body’s been waiting for this even if your brain’s still catching up.

he settles between your legs on his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pushing your thighs wider with those big hands, his thumbs digging in just enough to keep you open and exposed, and you watch him watch you. his eyes dark, but still soft around the edges, like he’s checking if you’re okay and that does something stupid to your inside.

he dips his head and drags his tongue flat and slow up your slit, collecting every bit of your slick in one long lazy lick, the wet heat of it makes your hips twitch, and a low “oh shit” slips out of you, because fuck it’s better than you imagined.

the way his tongue feels smooth and warm pressing against your folds, parting them like he’s savoring the taste of you. he moans right into your pussy, the vibration buzzing straight to your clit, making your breath catch.

he does it again, slower this time, circling the tip of his tongue around your entranc, teasing the sensitive skin there before sucking gently at your folds. the soft wet pull of his mouth creating this obscene little suction sound, that fills the room louder than the music still playing low in the background.

and you can hear how wet you are already, the slick sounds of his tongue lapping at your juices like he’s drinking you down, not rushing, his lips seals around your clit and he sucks harder, the pressure building perfect, and filthy the way your clit throbs under the suction like it’s being pulled into the wet heat of his mouth, makes you feel that familiar burn starting low and sharp. the good kind that makes your toes curl against the couch.

he flicks his tongue fast, then slow, alternating between tight little circles, and broad flat strokes that drag over your swollen nub. leaving you gasping as your hand flies down to fist in his hair tugging hard, because chan knows exactly how to work you, like he’s studied every little reaction you might give, and the strangled moan that rips from your throat is nothing like the ones you’ve made alone.

your mind’s spinning, because this is supposed to be just helping out, but it feels too fucking good. the constant schlick schlick of his mouth slurping up your arousal that’s leaking down your thighs, makes you drip onto the couch, but you don’t even care because he’s humming against you like he loves the taste, and it vibrates through your whole pussy making your walls flutter around nothing.

in a blink, his fingers are there. two of them thick and calloused sliding through your folds easily, he pushes one in first slow and deep curling it just right to rub against that spot inside you, that makes your vision blur. the sound it makes is so fucking wet, a loud squelch as he pumps it in and out lazy at first, letting your juices coat his hand completely before adding the second finger.

he's stretching you open, and the burn is perfect, that slight sting mixing with the pleasure as he scissors them apart then curls, both hooking them deep and dragging back out over and over. the rhythm matching, the way his tongue’s still sucking your clit like he’s trying to pull an orgasm right out of you, his fingers thrusting faster, the wet squelching sounds getting louder and messier every time he buries them to the knuckle. 

you’re grinding down on his face without thinking, hips rolling chasing that pressure, because it feels too real, too good, the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, dripping down his wrist, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, even when you tug his hair harder. 

“chan fuck right there don’t stop” your voice all broken and desperate.

he gives the kind of head that ruins you for anyone else, the kind that’s messy and real and so fucking intimate you feel it in your chest too, not just between your legs.

he pulls back just enough to breathe, hot against your soaked pussy, his chin shiny with your juices and he looks up at you eyes half-lidded, you can see the bit of tiredness in his breath, but he looks like he is far from stopping now. 

“you taste so fucking good…” he murmurs, before diving back in tongue fucking into you now alongside his fingers, the combination making your back arch off the couch a choked moan tearing out of you as the wet sounds turn even filthier the constant slick slide of his tongue and fingers working you open.

he pushes you closer and closer and you’re lost in the way your body’s reacting so honest, the burn in your clit from his relentless suction, the deep ache building low in your belly from his fingers curling just right, every thrust dragging more of your wetness out with those loud obscene squelches that make your face heat up, but ends up turning you on even more.

why?

because it’s him doing this to you, your chan, making you fall apart on your own couch like it’s nothing. and you know deep down, this isn’t going back to normal, not after the way he’s devouring you like he’s been starving for it. 

your body locks up tight without warning. the orgasm crashes through you like a goddamn wave you didn’t see coming. your back arches clean off the couch, thighs clamping around chan’s head as that deep burn in your clit explodes into white-hot sparks. 

his tongue still suctioned hard around your swollen nub, pulling every last drop of it out of you, and you cum messy and loud, a broken “oh fuck, chan—” ripping from your throat while your pussy clenches and flutters hard around his fingers, gushing warm slick all over his chin and mouth. 

he moans right into your cunt, loud and deep, like he’s the one falling apart too. his voice vibrating through your pulsing walls, making the aftershocks hit harder. you feel every lick, every swallow as he eats you through it, greedy and filthy, not pulling away even when your hips jerk and twitch, because he’s drinking you down like he can’t get enough. 

the way your mind blanks out completely, just pure heat and mess, and the thought that this is your easy safe chan, now tongue-deep in your pussy moaning like he’s starving for your cum. that alone makes you cum a little harder, he keeps licking you soft and slow through the comedown, his moans turning into these satisfied little hums while your chest heaves and your thighs tremble around his ears.

the second he feels your body start to relax, the tension easing out of your muscles, he’s already moving. no time for you to catch your breath or float down gentle.

he sits up quick, his chin shiny with you, his eyes dark and blown wide, and you watch hazy as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other still stroking your soaked folds like he can’t stop touching you. the metal clink sounds so ordinary against the wet mess between your legs. 

he leans sideways, grabbing his backpack off the floor beside the couch, rummaging fast until he pulls out a condom, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth while his free hand shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. and you’re still blinking through the fog of your orgasm when he rolls it on quick and messy, not even giving you a second to process before he’s back between your thighs, lining himself up.

your eyes fly open wide the moment you feel the blunt head of his cock push against your dripping entrance, and you arch hard, a needy mewl slipping out as he's right there, pushing in, stretching you open while your pussy’s still fluttering and sensitive from cumming. 

the continuity of it hits you so fucking hard, that full heavy slide right after your orgasm making your walls clamp down around him, greedy and wet. you look up at him then, and his perfect abs are clenching tight with every slow thrust, his shirt rucked up just enough to show the way they flex and roll under his skin. his eyes rolling back a little as he bites down hard on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep it together, and you feel it all, the burn, the stretch, the way he fills you so good it makes your toes curl again.

you mewl at him all sly and breathy,  “let me feel you, channie.” 

he doesn’t even hesitate. he grabs your hand quick, sliding it up under his shirt right over those warm clenching abs, letting your palm drag across the hard ridges of muscle while he leans down over you, his chest pressing close. 

his mouth is on yours, swallowing the loud moan that rips out of you the second he bottoms out deep. the kiss is messy and desperate, muffling how fucking loud you get because the stretchand the way his cock throbs inside your still-spasming pussy is too much, balls deep buried inside you, while he's kissing you stupid while your nails dig into his abs and your hips roll up to meet him like you never want this ordinary night to end.

every second surprises you,  like he’s reading your body better than you ever could. right when you think you’ve caught your breath from that first deep thrust, chan grabs both your wrists in one big hand and locks them above your head against the couch cushion, pinning you down easy and firm. his other palm slides flat over your lower belly, pressing hard right where his cock is buried inside you, and fuck the pressure skyrockets.

you feel him thicker, deeper, the head of his dick dragging against that spot with every tiny movement, like he’s molding your insides around him on purpose. your eyes squeeze shut and a broken sob slips out, tears already pricking hot at the corners because it’s too much and not enough all at once.

“chan— oh my god,” you choke, voice cracking into nothing but wet mewls. 

you can feel it in the way his hips snap harder, grinding that perfect pressure against your belly from the outside while he rails you from the inside, like he wants to erase every lonely night you spent missing this exact feeling. every thrust punches the air out of you, wet slaps echoing loud between your bodies, your slick coating his ballsack and dripping down your ass with every pull back. your pussy flutters and squeezes around him so tight it almost hurts.

he leans down close, lips brushing your ear, and gives you that pretty white smile you’ve seen a thousand times, only now it’s filthy and soft at the same time. “i know, baby,” he murmurs in the prettiest voice, all low and sweet and a little breathless, like he’s savoring the way you fall apart for him. “i know it’s good. gonna make sure you never miss this shit again.”

before you can even try to answer, he pulls out sudden and smooth, flips you over like you weigh nothing, and yanks your hips up so you’re on all fours. your knees sink into the couch, ass up, back arched, and he’s sliding back in before you can whine at the loss.

the new angle hits even deeper, his cock dragging along your walls with every brutal thrust, your pussy taking him so loud it fills the whole room. 

you can only mewl, over and over, face buried in the cushion, tears slipping free now “s’good— chan, s’good, please— s’good—”

he laughs soft and fond behind you, that same lovely voice wrapping around the words as he rails you harder, hips snapping in strong rolls  “yeah? that’s my girl. just take it, baby. let me fuck all that missing right out of you.” his abs clench tight every time he bottoms out, balls slapping wet against your clit, and you’re crying into the fabric, body shaking, this night just turning into the kind of sex that rewires your brain, and chan’s the one doing it with that stupidly sweet smile and those relentless hips.

you don’t even remember what you were complaining about anymore. all you know is his cock, his hands, his voice telling you he knows, and the way your pussy keeps gushing around him like it never wants him to stop.

it tightens in your belly again without any warning, that familiar coil pulling so fast and so fucking tight you’re actually impressed by how quick another orgasm is already building up, like your body’s been starving for this exact feeling and chan’s the only one who knows how to unlock it. 

you don’t even moan anymore. your mouth just drops open in a wide, silent ‘o’, eyes squeezed shut as hot tears slip down your cheeks and you sob without sound, the pleasure so overwhelming it steals every noise right out of your throat. your whole body shakes on all fours, knees sinking deeper into the couch while chan keeps railing you from behind.

his hand sneaks under you then, sliding between your trembling thighs, and he sinks his fat cock completely inside you in one hard thrust, bottoming out so deep the pressure in your belly spikes even higher. his fingers find your swollen clit and start flicking it fast, tight little circles that make your vision spark white. “that’s it, baby, cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

you can’t even answer, just sob silently into the cushion as the orgasm rips through you hard and sudden, your pussy clamping down around him like a vice, squeezing and fluttering so tight it drags him right over the edge with you. he groans deep in his chest, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside the condom, thick pulses you can still feel through the latex while your walls milk him for everything he’s got.

your arms give out completely after that. you can’t even keep yourself on all fours anymore, you just collapse belly-down onto the couch, face buried in the cushion, ass still slightly up because he’s still buried inside you, breathing hard against your back. 

chan stays there for a second, chest pressed to your spine, then he lets out a soft little scoff under his breath, quiet enough that he thinks you won’t hear it, like he’s trying so hard not to make you feel embarrassed about how fast and how hard you just fell apart for him. 

but you do hear it, and it makes something warm bloom in your chest because it’s so fucking him. he pulls out slow and careful, already reaching for something to clean you up like this was never supposed to be a big deal, even though both of you know it just changed everything in the best goddamn way.

[...]

after the quick bath you two took, with chan’s arm wrapped tight around your waist the whole time because your legs were still wobbling like a damn newborn deer, you both ended up freshly showered and completely naked under the fat, hot, white duvet. the room smelled like your coconut soap mixed with his skin, and the only light came from the stupid little lamp on the side table that you always forget to turn off. 

you were curled into his chest, one leg thrown lazily over his thigh, his arm heavy and warm around your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you even now.

you felt boneless and floaty while kssing him, pussy still tingling from everything he did, a lazy throb between your legs that made you shift a little closer. the kiss slows down naturally, like neither of you is in a rush anymore. his mouth moves against yours with a patience that makes your chest ache. you can still taste him, still feel the warmth of him. by the time you both pull back, it’s only enough to breathe, your foreheads brushing, noses barely touching, lips still ghosting each other like neither of you wants to let go fully.

“hey,” 

you tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. “hm?”

his fingers pause for a second, then resume, slower this time. “i need you to know something.”

you don’t say anything, but you feel your chest tighten a little, your attention sharpening.

“this… tonight,” he continues, searching for the right words, “it wasn’t just me trying to help you feel better… or distract you or anything like that.”

you study his face.

“i care about you,” he says, more quietly. “a lot more than i probably should.”

you let out a small breath, your cheek still pressed against him, but your eyes don’t leave his.

he gives you that small smile, the one you’ve seen a hundred times, his hand comes up to brush a damp strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering just slightly against your cheek.

“i’m not… using you,” he adds, almost like he needs to make it clear. “that’s not what this is for me. you’re not just… this.” he gestures faintly between you, then lets his hand settle back against you.

you swallow, your throat tight in a way you weren’t expecting.

“you’re the person i go to,” he continues, “when my day’s bad. when something good happens. when i don’t feel like being around anyone else. you’ve been that for me for a while.”

you shift slightly, your fingers curling lightly against his side, grounding yourself.

“i like you,” he says, more simply this time. “not just like this. just… you.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not empty. you lift your head a little more, your faces closer now, your breath mixing with his. your nose brushes his, and for a second neither of you moves. “i just didn’t want to go back to pretending,” he adds, almost under his breath.

your chest tightens again, but this time it’s warmer.

“and what are you asking for?” you ask.

he looks at you properly now, his expression open in a way that makes it impossible to look away.

“more than just tonight,” he says. “if you want that too.”

your gaze drops for a second, your thoughts catching up to you, then you look back at him.

“you’re serious,” you say.

“i am.”

you let out a slow breath, your hand shifting slightly against him. “and if i say no?” you ask, not because you mean it, but because you need to hear it.

his expression softens even more. “then nothing changes unless you want it to.”

that answer sits with you. you lean in without overthinking it, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. it’s slower this time. when you pull back, you stay close, your forehead resting against his. “you make this very hard to ignore,” you murmur.