#disgustingg

the fact that it’s a realization in the first place should be insulting; ran doesn’t spend a good portion of his mornings and nights faithfully performing his skincare routine and then wasting rindou’s by making him comb his hair for his husband of all people to just now realize that ran is handsome, yet here he stands now, voicing his revelation like an epiphany that’s thrown off the axis of his world. ran stays in place, obedient as per his request, but there’s no stopping the way his lips purse into a petulant pout, a hand raising to lay on his hip in indignation.

luckily for mikey, ran happens to think he’s adorable: the bluntness of his words that cut sharp like a knife, the lack of respecting other people’s personal spaces, eating sweet treats one moment and ordering a kill the next, the bottomless abyss of his pitch black eyes that would unnerve anyone else – a culmination of undesirable traits that give form to the man standing before him, oblivious to the way he makes ran’s hands itch to reach out and touch him, to slide his arms around his deceptively small frame and bring him closer until their hearts beat in tandem side by side.

ran leans down a little instead, head tilted sideways so the tip of their noses are brushing lightly.

Tommy’s all kinds’a desperate right now. Head buried in Steve’s neck, eyes closed so tightly. And, God, he’s fuckin weak. Real fuckin weak. Craving that fuckin’ release, swallowing back each noise that tried to escape him. A switch from how he was moments ago, crying out and begging, needy. All full’a pleases and broken sobs. ‘Cause Tommy can’t help it when it gets like this. Can’t stop the falling of tears, the whimpers. Mouth all wide open and-

And, Tommy has to be quiet. So, it’s just him mouthing at Steve, nothing but choked back noises and heavy, crashing breaths. Hand pressed firmly against the seat of the car behind the other, just for his own little leverage. Stopping himself from touching his dick. He’s not allowed. He wants to. Fuck, he really wants to. Needs that release.

And, it was Steve. He’d do anything Steve said. No touching. Be quiet. Just be fucked, any which way: like this, hidden in some dead parking lot with Tommy all blissed out on Steve’s cock; or head down, ass up in Tommy’s basement, high off their asses with no worries; maybe even all sweet, hushed by kisses and tenderness. No question about it. Mind still casting back to how they got here. Stupid little promises. Teasing words.

And, Tommy maybe let’s a noise slip as he thinks it over. Let’s that fucked out, brain dead ‘please’ fall from his lips, rocking his own his down. Not as loud as he had previously been, that’s for sure, but louder than quiet. “ Please, Stevie... ”