
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1362661.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Soul_Eater
  Relationship:
      Giriko/Justin_Law
  Character:
      Giriko_(Soul_Eater), Justin_Law
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Blow_Jobs, First_Time, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-01 Words: 3087
****** Composure ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "'Has anyone ever sucked you off before?'" Giriko realizes Justin's
     never had a blowjob and corrects this situation.
Giriko almost regrets how long it takes him to think of it. It would have come
up sooner, he’s sure, except that Justin is so happy to be fucked and
so happy to suck him off that he doesn’t even think about reciprocation for the
first few months. It’s not until they’ve fucked across every surface in the
apartment, multiple times for some of them, that it occurs to him that Justin
hasn’t ever been with another else, and since Giriko’s never gone down on him…
“Have you ever had a blow job?” Giriko asks. Justin’s in the other room,
probably working at the table or something stupid like that, but if Giriko
yells the priest will at least hear him if not clearly. There’s a sound of
protest, and as Giriko sits up on the couch Justin emerges from the other room,
pulling his headphones free.
“You know I can’t hear you from the other room,” the blond starts, but his
earphones are out so Giriko doesn’t bother waiting for the rest of his
complaint before repeating himself.
“Has anyone ever sucked you off before?”
Justin goes utterly still, eyes widening just slightly. It’s the lack of a
blink in response that tells Giriko he’s scored a hit.
“Wh--” Justin doesn’t usually stumble over his words, either. “What?”
Giriko sets his hand against the back of the sofa and pulls himself up onto his
knees so he can lean over the back and grin at Justin. “You’ve never had a blow
job, have you.”
“No, I haven’t.” Justin rocks slightly backward, and blinks, and his composure
is fully back in place. “Seeing as you’re the first person I ever kissed, I
thought that would have been clear. Apologies, I would have been perfectly
clear if I had known you were confused.”
“I wasn’t confused.” Giriko comes up to sit on the back of the couch and swing
his legs over so he can actually come forward towards Justin. “I just hadn’t
thought about it. And I dunno what goes on at the Academy, maybe blow jobs
before kissing is standard or something.”
Justin fights not to laugh but there’s still a choke in his exhale and he bites
his lip. Giriko’s grin goes wider as he closes with the priest, and Justin
doesn’t move away. “No. Your impression of the Academy is fascinatingly insane,
someday I’d really like to know where you get your ideas.”
“So you’ve never had a mouth around your dick?” Giriko says, leaning into
Justin’s personal space. The blond doesn’t step back or lean away; if anything
he tips in a little closer. Giriko can feel his breathing slightly-too-fast
against the edge of his collar.
“Are you volunteering?” Justin’s voice is impressively level.
“You gotta understand.” Giriko reaches out to ghost his hands against Justin’s
waist. Even through the fabric of the priest’s clothing he can feel the way the
blond shifts his weight, arches in in response to his touch. “I don’t generally
blow guys. Fuck them, sure. Getting my own dick sucked is real nice, of course.
But it’s not usually something I’m willing to do.”
“But?” Justin prompts. He turns his mouth so the word blows hot against
Giriko’s skin. When the chainsaw shifts his weight his neck bumps just barely
against the blond’s lips.
“But if you’ve never had one, I’m willing to make an exception for you.” His
hands are a little harder on Justin’s waist now, a hold instead of the promise
of a touch.
“How generous of you.” Justin’s fingers come up, land against Giriko’s wrists
before sliding up the other man’s arms.
“Just want you to be real clear on the exception I’m making for you,” Giriko
growls into Justin’s hair.
“So I don’t ask for it in the future?”
“So you understand the import of this now,” Giriko corrects. “Just something
everyone should experience at least once in his life. And if you’re with me,
and you haven’t had one…”
There’s an implication, there, a hint of almost-commitment that Giriko barely
wants to acknowledge even to himself, much less aloud, but Justin has the good
sense to not call it out. His hands go still for a breath, but then they
continue their slow friction up past Giriko’s elbows and around the other
weapon’s shoulders, and Giriko tightens his grip so he’s actually lifting some
of the blond’s minimal weight as well as locking Justin in place.
“Noted.”
Giriko pulls Justin in closer so he can feel the blond’s body against him. The
younger man has entirely stopped wearing his Death Weapon attire in the
apartment on the weekend, and he’s so hard that Giriko thinks he might be able
to feel it even through the multiple layers of his priest uniform. His current
thin jeans do nothing at all to hide Justin’s erection, and Giriko grins even
as Justin audibly forces his breathing to stay level while the chainsaw pulls
him in hard against his body.
“Intrigued?” he asks. “You certainly feel interested.”
Justin’s mouth hits Giriko’s neck, warm and wet, and there’s a momentary slick
of tongue against his pulse point. Giriko laughs. “Guess that’s a yes.” He can
feel Justin smile, the scrape of teeth over the sensitive skin of his throat.
When he moves them out of the doorway and down the hallway proper Justin
follows his lead with no protest, and when he backs the priest up against the
wall the blond hums and sucks just under his ear, hard enough that Giriko
suspects he’s leaving a mark.
“Okay.” Giriko lets go of Justin with one hand, catches his hand gently against
the blond’s collarbones, just below his throat, so he can push the priest’s
body flat against the wall. Justin is looking faintly hazy as he goes, his lips
damp with moisture from licking at the chainsaw’s skin, and Giriko comes in to
kiss him although he wasn’t intending to. The promised pleasure has made Justin
unusually pliant, or maybe he’s just in one of his submissive moods; Giriko’s
mouth has barely brushed over the blond’s lips when Justin opens his mouth to
give the chainsaw entrance. Giriko takes the invitation, slides his tongue in
against Justin’s, and the blond hums again in the back of his throat as his
fingers find their way down the back of Giriko’s shirt to stroke over skin.
Giriko presses his mouth against the corner of Justin’s lips, comes sideways to
taste against the blond’s jawline while he gets the priest’s pants open with
the hand not pressing him back against the wall. It’s more difficult with one
hand, but his thumb is resting just between Justin’s collarbones and he can
feel the other’s pulse fluttering against his skin and he doesn’t quite want to
pull away. It doesn’t slow him down much, anyway. He’s barely kissed his way to
the edge of Justin’s neck when the fabric comes open, and then he does move his
hand, hooks his fingers around the priest’s clothes so he can slide down to his
knees and push the cloth free at the same time. Justin steps free as Giriko’s
fingers brush his ankles, leaving him in just a t-shirt that clings to the
sharp lines of his hips. Giriko shoves the other’s discarded clothing aside,
brings his hands back to settle against those lines, and looks up at the
blond’s face. Justin’s watching him, reaching out to touch the chainsaw’s
shoulder with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. His mouth is
red from the pressure of Giriko’s mouth and his eyes are still unfocused just
from anticipation. It makes Giriko smile up at him, offering a lopsided smirk
and tipping his head.
“You ready?”
Justin smiles faintly. His fingers drag through the longer strands of Giriko’s
hair. The chainsaw would shiver if he didn’t fight back the involuntary
reaction. “Sure, whenever you are.”
Giriko composes his expression so he can keep his sharp teeth out of the way,
tightens his hold on Justin’s hips, and comes in to trail his tongue over the
blond’s cock.
He’s expecting a moan, maybe, or a restrained exhale, depending on how hard
Justin is fighting for self-control. He’s not expecting Justin to wail, not
expecting the hand in his hair to make a fist or the blond’s hips to rock up
hard enough that Giriko’s hold is insufficient to keep him steady for a moment.
“Woah!” Giriko draws back, more from shock than anything else. “Holy fuck, are
you okay?”
Justin’s head is tipped back when he looks up, like the blond is staring up at
the sky for some sort of divine assistance, and he can see his throat work
around the strangled whimper that is apparently all Justin can offer by way of
response.
“Justin?”
The priest swallows, takes a breath, and brings his head down to stare at
Giriko. His eyes are wide and dilated, lips parted around his breath, and
Giriko realizes what the reaction is a moment before Justin speaks.
“Oh god keep going.” Any indication that Justin had any self-control is utterly
gone; there’s nothing in his voice but trembling desire. Giriko can feel his
desperation in the hand on his hair and for once there’s absolutely no part of
him that wants to tease the other weapon. He brings his mouth back in, curls
his lips around Justin’s cock without looking away from the blond’s face, and
Justin collapses. He groans lower than Giriko has ever heard, the sound pouring
up from the depths of his body; Giriko’s more ready, this time, and actually
holds him back flat against the wall, but Justin curls in around him, his
fingers desperately scrambling for contact with Giriko’s skin and folding
nearly in two around the chainsaw’s mouth. When Giriko actually moves his
tongue, sweeps it up and around the blond’s length, Justin sounds like he’s
being strangled, like he’s trying to inhale and moan at the same time and the
air is getting trapped between his mouth and his throat. He coughs, chokes, and
when Giriko slides his mouth back manages to get out “Giriko.” It sounds
desperate, either like he’s pleading for his life or exclaiming to a god, and
the edge of wailing incoherence in the word goes straight to Giriko’s cock. He
pulls away entirely and Justin takes the opportunity to suck in air and force
his hands to loosen on Giriko’s clothes and hair.
“Fuck Justin,” he half-laughs. “If I had known you were gonna react like this I
would have done this way earlier.”
Justin groans wordlessly and Giriko laughs again. He can feel the other shaking
under his hands; he’s pretty sure that if he moved his hands Justin would just
collapse in front of him.
“Here.” He shifts in closer, slides one hand down from Justin’s hip to his
thigh so he can lift the blond’s leg. The priest resists for a moment, or maybe
just takes a minute to realize what Giriko wants; then his hands steady a bit,
take some of his weight so he can get his leg up over the chainsaw’s shoulder.
The second is a little harder, mostly because Justin’s entire sense of balance
appears to have evaporated along with his composure, but then Giriko’s got the
other’s full weight on his shoulders and doesn’t have to focus on pinning
Justin back against the wall.
“Okay.” He shifts, gets one foot flat on the ground and settles his hands on
Justin’s waist to hold him steady. “Mind your head.”
Justin squeaks in surprise as Giriko starts to stand, but the chainsaw moves
slowly so the priest has time to tip in forward to balance his weight on
Giriko’s shoulders and duck so his head doesn’t hit the ceiling. Giriko tips
his head, changes his angle, and reaches out to brace one hand on the wall
before he comes back in to wrap his lips around Justin’s cock.
It’s for the best that he was prepared. Justin wails again, sounding like he’s
dying or coming or both, and curls in so his weight shifts and Giriko nearly
drops him. The hand on the wall is what saves them. Giriko makes a sound of
protest, a half-muffled growl in the back of his throat, and Justin whimpers at
the vibration but gets his hands properly braced on Giriko’s shoulders before
the chainsaw moves again.
Giriko can feel the way Justin’s whole body trembles when he moves, this way.
The blond is barely breathing, just taking short sharp gasps without any rhythm
to them, and his fingers are clutching convulsively at the older man’s
shoulders every time Giriko moves his mouth or his tongue. When the chainsaw
closes his lips entirely around Justin’s length and sucks hard, the blond gasps
and rocks forward into the contact, at least as much as he can; a hand moves
from Giriko’s shoulder and Justin half-straightens so he can reach out and
brace himself on the ceiling. Giriko laughs and dips his head in a little
farther, pulling another groan from the blond, and this time Justin leans back
entirely until his shoulders are against the wall and his head is tipped back.
His legs are trembling, his feet keep sliding against Giriko’s shoulders like
he’s seeking some sort of purchase to buck up harder or more, and his breathing
and moans are inextricably linked, now, increasing in volume until Giriko
wonders if their neighbors are getting an earful. Not that that’s enough to
stop him or even get him to consider stopping. He breathes in deep through his
nose, slicks his tongue hard against the underside of Justin’s cock, and when
he sucks this time the blond jerks up into the contact and chokes on an inhale
before come spills bitter all across Giriko’s mouth. Justin keeps shaking, his
whole body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure and the adrenaline rush of
sensation, so when Giriko finally pulls back and shifts to take Justin’s weight
the priest’s arms do nothing at all to help support him.
It doesn’t matter much. Giriko is grinning, feeling like he’s won an award for
Shattering Justin’s Composure, and the blond is so skinny it’s not even
particularly difficult to get him down off Giriko’s shoulders. The priest looks
a little like he’s in pain and a little like he’s been hit by a truck, but when
he manages to focus his gaze on Giriko’s face he gives a smile that takes his
expression from maybe-pain into utterly debauched pleasure and reminds Giriko
that he hasn’t gotten off yet.
“Damn.” He leans in and Justin leans back to press against the wall as the
chainsaw’s mouth skims against his parted lips. “Glad I got to be the first to
do that.”
“Thought you didn’t give blowjobs,” Justin counters, although his voice is
faint and lacks the bite his words frequently have.
“I make a lot of exceptions for you, kid,” Giriko offers with his mouth warm
against Justin’s ear. He takes a half-step in, rocks his hips forward so his
dick digs into Justin’s stomach through his jeans. “Hey,” he says, slow like
it’s just occurring to him. “I think you give great blowjobs, too, don’t you?”
“You must be thinking of someone else,” Justin says, but his hands are pulling
the front of Giriko’s pants open.
Giriko laughs. “I’m pretty sure no one’s had my cock in their mouth recently
but you.”
“Mm.” Justin shifts his weight to slide his knee between the chainsaw’s legs.
“That’s awfully close to tender, for you.”
“Shut up,” Giriko growls. Justin laughs and starts to slide down to his knees
before Giriko grabs at his waist. “Here, wait a sec.” He pulls the edge of the
blond’s shirt, peels it up over his head; Justin lifts his arms and lets Giriko
strip the last of his clothing off.
“You want me naked?” he asks as he starts to go back down.
“Course.” Giriko reaches out without looking to brace himself on the wall so he
can keep watching Justin settling himself as he works the chainsaw’s jeans down
his legs. “You know I like seeing your skin.” Justin comes in to wrap his mouth
around the head of Giriko’s cock, so when he hums in agreement the vibration
settles warm and pleasant low in Giriko’s stomach. The chainsaw reaches out to
wrap his fingers around the back of Justin’s head, not exerting pressure but
just fitting his hand against the blond’s soft hair, and Justin looks up at him
and smiles as much as he can with his mouth full.
Lack of experience notwithstanding, Justin is enthusiastic about giving
blowjobs, and he has an inherent knowledge of what to do with his tongue and
lips as he moves his head. Giriko purrs in satisfaction as Justin slides his
mouth down over his length, shuts his eyes in pleasure for a moment before he
makes himself look back down to watch the blond’s head moving over him. Justin
is still watching him, blue eyes focused clear on Giriko’s face but still soft
at the edges from the lingering effects of his orgasm. He’s beautiful, though
Giriko is nothing like ready to actually tell him so. He just looks, and lets
his hand stroke gently through Justin’s hair, and the sight of the younger
man’s face and pale shoulders is nearly as effective as the warm friction of
tongue and teeth and lips at pouring hot pleasure into his blood.
The priest is becoming really alarmingly good at giving head, or at least at
matching Giriko’s preferences; Justin’s only been working on him for a few
minutes before he moves his hand, grips the chainsaw’s hips to hold him steady
and brings his mouth all the way down over Giriko’s cock, taking the other man
down into his throat. That’s almost enough -- Giriko grunts and gasps for air -
- and then Justin locks his lips tight around Giriko’s base and sucks and
that is enough. Giriko’s vision veers into white and his fingers against
Justin’s hair tense in time with the rest of his body as he comes into the
blond’s mouth.
Justin swallows before Giriko has entirely recovered himself, slides back and
away so he can smile properly before getting to his feet. Giriko doesn’t pull
away when Justin leans in towards him and wraps his arms around the chainsaw’s
neck, and when the blond comes in for a kiss they’re both smiling.
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