
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1836421.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      弱虫ペダル_|_Yowamushi_Pedal
  Relationship:
      Makishima_Yuusuke/Toudou_Jinpachi
  Character:
      Makishima_Yuusuke, Toudou_Jinpachi
  Additional Tags:
      Phone_Calls_&_Telephones, Phone_Sex, Masturbation, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-14 Words: 1394
****** Monologue ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "Toudou’s tracing his fingers over his stomach and thinking about the
     way Makishima’s hair looks in the light when his phone starts to buzz
     from beside him." Makishima calls Toudou back late and Toudou takes
     advantage of the distance.
Sometimes Toudou feels like he spends most of his life waiting for Makishima to
call him back. He calls or texts the other boy multiple times a day, sometimes
multiple times an hour; it’s worth it, for the occasional response he gets, the
pleasure of Makishima’s voice or the bubble of excitement a text message
causes. But most of time he feels like he’s shouting into a void, begging for
attention that the other boy only sometimes deigns to grace him with.
So Toudou’s not expecting the call. He’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling
and idly thinking about jerking off, letting physical pleasure take the anxious
edge off his mood so he can actually fall asleep. He hasn’t totally decided
yet, though he’s tracing his fingers over his stomach and thinking about the
way Makishima’s hair looks in the light, when his phone starts to buzz from
beside him.
He thinks it’s Fukutomi at first, or maybe Arakita, making a change to
tomorrow’s practice schedule or reminding him to bring back the book he
borrowed yesterday. He’d let it ring, if it were one of them; messages can wait
until the morning, there can’t be anything that important for tonight. But then
he sees the icon flashing on his screen, his sleepy boredom evaporates
instantly, and he’s chirping, “Maki-chan!” before he even gets the phone up to
his ear.
“Ah.” It is Makishima, there’s no mistaking the nasal edge to his voice.
“Toudou. I thought you would be asleep.”
“Not for you,” Toudou purrs. “Isn’t the prince supposed to wake Sleeping
Beauty?”
Makishima huffs in incoherent exasperation on the other end of the line and
Toudou laughs, rolls over onto his stomach so he can swing his legs through the
air. “You never call me, Maki-chan, what’s the occasion? Did you just miss the
sound of my voice?”
“I got the new Cycle Time issue,” Makishima says quickly, as if by speaking
faster he’ll distract Toudou from the fact that that wasn’t a no. “You’ve been
bothering me about it for days so I thought I’d let you know.”
“At ten at night?” Toudou grins.
“I got it earlier,” Makishima explains. “But I only thought of it as I was
getting ready for bed.”
“You thought of me as you went to bed?” Toudou suggests, grinning widely enough
his voice goes quivery with amusement. “Maki-chan, I’m flattered.”
“No, I --” Makishima starts, then gives up and huffs. “I just wanted to let you
know while I was thinking about it. That’s all.”
That sounds like a farewell. “No, Maki-chan, wait, don’t go!” Toudou can hear
the hesitation, the sound of the other boy’s breathing at a distance before he
brings the phone back to his ear. “I was having trouble sleeping anyway, talk
to me now. It’s so hard to get you on the phone, I don’t want to waste the
opportunity.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” Makishima repeats back. “I have a way to help with that.”
There is no way he’s going to say what Toudou thinks for a brief moment he’s
going to say. It doesn’t matter. The possibility alone is enough to stall
Toudou’s breathing, to send a wave of heat under his skin so he goes hard
against the sheets, rocks reflexively against the friction before he can stop
himself.
“What do you do?” Toudou manages to ask. He sounds strangled, he knows he does,
but he can’t help it, he’s trying to resist the urge to switch his phone to his
other hand and slide his fingers down between his hips and the bed.
“Take a hot shower,” Makishima says, and Toudou drops his face down against his
pillow, bites his lip to keep from groaning at the vivid mental image that
presents. Makishima's still talking, explaining the logic behind this but
Toudou’s not listening to the words, just the sound of his voice as he shifts
the phone to his shoulder and gets his hips far enough off the bed that he can
fit his hand down into the waistband of his boxers.
“You have the best ideas, Maki-chan,” Toudou manages when the other boy stops
talking. He sounds a little better, now, is deliberately modulating his voice
into an imitation of normal while he closes his fingers around himself. “Tell
me about the newest issue.”
There’s a pause. “I thought you read it already,” Makishima says on the other
end of the line.
“I did,” Toudou affirms. He strokes his hand over himself, bites his lip and
takes a deep breath through his nose to keep from whimpering. This is a
terrible idea or an excellent idea and he hasn’t decided yet which it is. “But
I have been waiting to hear your thoughts, Maki-chan, don’t deprive me of them
now.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“That is what I want,” Toudou says, his voice dropping a little more sultry
than he intends for it to as he slides his hand back down. “Talk to me, Maki-
chan, I love the sound of your voice.”
Makishima makes a sound of skepticism, but Toudou can hear the sound of pages
turning and after a minute he does start talking, picks up the topic of one of
the articles in the issue. Usually Toudou is jumping in with ideas, comments,
critique that Makishima will answer or listen to or just laugh at, but this
time he presses his face into the pillow, angles the speaker away from his
mouth, and just lets the sound of Makishima's voice fill his thoughts without
paying any attention at all to the meaning. It’s better, it’s so much better
than imagining it, there’s an odd resonance to the other boy’s voice Toudou can
never quite bring up correctly, and the hyper-awareness that Makishima has no
idea what Toudou is doing adds the thrill of secrecy to the whole thing.
Toudou’s going fast, rocking into his hand as much as he’s stroking over
himself, when there’s hesitation on the other end of the line before Makishima
asks, “Toudou?”
“Yes?” Toudou says, sounding breathless and shaky and horribly debauched. He
flinches, swallows, tries again and gets his voice down to reasonably
flirtateous levels instead of raw eroticism. “What is it, Maki-chan?”
“You’re really quiet,” the other boy says, and it is all Toudou can do to keep
from either laughing hysterically or moaning into the phone. “You’re never this
quiet, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Toudou says, sliding his thumb up over himself so his body jerks
involuntarily against the mattress and he loses his breath for a minute. “Just
appreciating your opinion.”
“You’re falling asleep, aren’t you,” Makishima says. His voice is sounding
distant and echoey behind the ringing growing in Toudou’s ears. “I can call you
tomorrow, we can talk about the issue then.”
“You -- you won’t call me,” Toudou gasps. His body is drawing tight with
tension, anticipation pulling aching expectation through his legs and shoulders
and throat until he sounds half-strangled. “You never call me, M-maki-chan.”
“Are you crying?” Makishima asks. “I’ll call you tomorrow, it’s not that big of
a deal.”
“Do you promise?” Toudou says. His voice sounds like it’s at a great distance
in his own ears, he’s arching into the bed as his hand drags desperately over
himself. “Promise you’ll call me, Maki-chan.” Makishima huffs again, and Toudou
twists the phone away from his mouth again so the other boy won’t hear the
desperate gasp of air he takes.
“I promise,” Makishima sighs, and Toudou groans into his pillow as he comes
with the sound of Makishima's voice, the sound of Makishima's breathing in his
ear.
“Oh good,” he says before he’s caught his breath, while he’s still trembling
with aftershocks. “It’s a promise, then. You -- had better call me.”
“I said I would.” Toudou can almost hear Makishima rolling his eyes on the
other line. “Go to bed, Toudou.”
“Until tomorrow, Maki-chan,” Toudou purrs.
There’s a bark of a laugh, a sigh, and then there’s a click and the line goes
dead. Toudou lets out a sigh of relief, let the fear of getting caught fade
from his shoulders and relaxes into the bed.
“I love you, Maki-chan,” he says, clear into the speaker of the unresponsive
phone. Then he rolls over, drops the phone on the nightstand, and closes his
eyes as sleep washes over him.
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