
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4367516.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Ookiku_Furikabutte_|_Big_Windup!
  Relationship:
      Abe_Takaya/Mihashi_Ren
  Character:
      Abe_Takaya, Mihashi_Ren
  Additional Tags:
      Fluff, Cuddling_&_Snuggling, pushy_Mihashi, Semi-Public_Sex, okay_there
      are_other_people_there_but_they_are_asleep_so, slight_breathplay_if_ya
      squint, also_SHUT_UP_ALREADY_ABE_FFS_KID, spoilers_for_post-Bijou
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-18 Words: 6667
****** Softly ******
by zetsubooty
Summary
     Since the summer training camp, Mihashi's gotten a lot more
     comfortable around Abe. Maybe TOO comfortable. During the trip to see
     Koushien, he seems to be having trouble with little things like
     respecting personal space. But, whatever Abe might hope, it probably
     doesn't mean anything, it's just Mihashi being clueless and weird, as
     always. There's NO WAY he would do stuff like this on
     purpose...right?
     And then, on the bus ride home...
Notes
     If you're thinking HEY isn't this a repost, yes. Yes it is. I'm gonna
     try and put stuff back up slowly so I'm not spamming the tag (and
     also so I have time to edit stuff I'm not happy with) but this one
     was pretty well-liked, and seems like a good place to start, so here.
See the end of the work for more notes
A hotel room ceiling is an exceptionally dull thing to be stuck sleeplessly
staring at. No cracks or mysterious stains, no misplaced daubs of paint, just a
featureless expanse of smooth plaster and a blandly inoffensive lamp. He’s not
sure how long it’s been since Mihashi switched out the lights, but long enough
that Abe’s getting irritated. His leg didn’t hurt much earlier, but, perhaps
just because there’s nothing to distract him now, it’s bad enough to make sleep
elusive. He shifts restlessly, making a frustrated noise under his breath. If I
don’t get plenty of sleep, it’ll set back my healing, and…
And, though he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, it's hard to sleep when he can’t
shake the awareness of Mihashi lying so close by. It feels like something out
of a cheesy romance, us sharing a room like this. He’s not the sort to lie here
imagining what-ifs, but he’s hyper-conscious that he could just sort of...get
up, take a single step (if that) and lie down beside him. Curl around his small
form and stroke his sides and nuzzle his soft hair. It occurs to him he knows
exactly how it’d smell, even, like the hotel shampoo, and then he’s thinking
about Mihashi’s flushed face when he came out of the shower, his hair mostly
subdued by the weight of the water, talking to him so earnestly and
surprisingly direct... And even though he’s showered recently, it’d probably
also smell like Abe's hand did after he’d buried it in Mihashi’s hair when they
measured their heights. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, and glares at the
ceiling resentfully, shifting his hips.
There’s a soft rustle from the other bed, and then, a minute later, “Um.
Is...is... Abe-kun can’t sleep?”
“Yeah.”
Mihashi rolls over, and although Abe refuses to turn his head (on the off-
chance that the dim light from the window is enough to betray his blush), he
can tell he’s watching him. But Mihashi doesn’t say anything more for long
enough that Abe’s decided he’s probably fallen asleep. But then he asks,
softly, “Abe-kun’s leg...?”
“It’s bugging me a little, yeah, but don’t worry about it. Go to sleep. Don’t
forget tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”
Another longer silence. Eventually, Abe turns, impatient curiousity getting the
better of him (and perhaps also the possibility of seeing Mihashi’s sleeping
face).
But Mihashi’s wide awake, staring back at him, and if his face isn’t quite as
sweetly relaxed as it is when he’s asleep, it’s close enough that it makes
Abe’s heart skip a beat. And he’s looking at ME like that. He looks away; at
least his embarrassment is starting to irritate him, give him something else to
focus on.
Then Mihashi sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Ah! I saw!
Down...I can... Ice...ice machine!”
Abe pushes himself up, reaching after Mihashi, a little slow to parse out what
he’s saying. “Don’t bother wi—” But he’s already kicked on his shoes and yanked
open the door, running into the hall. “Key...card...” Abe strangles out,
watching the sliver of light from the doorway narrow. At the last possible
moment, Mihashi crashes back inside, making him jump, and grabs the key card
off the dresser, gone before Abe can do more than blink. He falls back on the
bed, sighing.
He’s mostly regained his composure by the time he hears Mihashi fiddling with
the lock. He stops in the bathroom, coming out wrapping a hand towel around his
prize and giving Abe a nervous little smile. “I put...two! Two bags. So...so it
won’t...wet??”
“Good,” he says with a nod, “Thanks, actually.” Propping himself up, Abe puts
his hand out for the ice, not really processing that Mihashi hasn’t come around
to the side of the bed, is still standing and watching him.
The bed creaks.
“What are—” he trails off, watching Mihashi walk closer on his knees. His heart
pounds; he’s paralyzed, willing himself to move, to stop Mihashi from
doing...whatever he’s planning, worried Mihashi will stop, slide off the bed,
leave Abe alone with his bag of ice and his frustration. Apparently failing to
notice his discomfort, Mihashi happily kneels between him and the wall,
breaking up the ice in his little bundle and then gingerly setting it on his
knee. Abe sighs out a relieved breath; surely now, he’s satisfied his need to
be helpful.
He waits. Mihashi’s hands are still there. A few minutes go by. Still there.
With what he hopes is an even, pleasant tone, he says, “That’s good. You can go
back to—”
“But! It might...off!” It takes him a second to fill in the missing words, and
even once he does, he can only squint at Mihashi uncomprehendingly. It’s hard
to tell whether Mihashi is being intentionally dense, or is actually concerned
that if he isn’t there to hold it, the ice will tumble off into the void, never
to be seen again.
Abe rubs his forehead, one eyebrow twitching under his fingers. “It’ll. Be.
Fine.” He feels Mihashi flinch. His voice came out a little harsher than he
meant, a little more revealing of his agitation than he’d like, but maybe
that’s good, maybe it’ll scare Mihashi away. But when he peeks at him from
behind his hand, Mihashi’s just looking down at his hands on Abe’s knee, still
with that weird little smile, but brows drawn together in a worried frown. And
is he...? Also blushing, he’s DEFINITELY blushing.
Abe’s glad for the hand shielding his face, wishes it would shield him from the
hopeful feeling rising in him. That sort of thinking will get him nowhere. He’s
already doing a bad enough job of shutting this stupid crush of his down,
doesn’t need to fuel it with make-believe. Mihashi blushes all the time. It’s
nothing special. He’s just embarrassed because he did something wrong.
“But I...I want... Abe-kun is always...” Mihashi shifts, knee pressing against
Abe's thigh. “I want to...t-t-to be useful to Abe-kun, and... I w-want...” He
dips his chin, looks away.
For a long while, Abe just stares at his feet with a lost expression. What the
hell am I even supposed to DO with this guy, with him saying stuff like this?
Especially while looking so adorably sleep-rumpled, sitting so temptingly
close...
And just how were you planning to end that sentence?
He swallows, takes a steadying breath. “Mihashi. Go...just go to sleep.”
He blinks drowsily at Abe, nods vaguely. And then makes Abe regret his
phrasing, flopping over on his side with a happy sigh, still holding the bag of
ice to his knee with one hand. Abe finally drops his hand from his face,
leaning back, staring down at Mihashi curled against his side like it’s
nothing, like it’s totally normal. Who knows, maybe in his mind, it is. This is
bullshit, this isn't fair. And why do you have to look so damn appealing while
you’re doing these weird things?
He means to shake him awake, tell him to go to his own bed. He’ll throw him
over there if he has to. That’s what he tells himself, as he reaches for
Mihashi's back, that he's going to grab his shirt, he's going to pull him up,
make him leave. But the second his fingertips touch the fabric of Mihashi's
shirt, he can't do it. Abe glares down at his hand, at his fingers pressing
into the warmth of Mihashi's shoulder. Trying to salvage some kind of normalcy,
he stiffly pats Mihashi a few times. He feels like an idiot doing it, but at—
Mihashi makes a quiet, happy noise, and, with another little wriggle, nuzzles
his side.
Heat seems to bloom out from that point of contact, making Abe thankful for the
bunched-up blanket covering his crotch. Lying back, he forces himself to
breathe evenly, trying to slow his racing pulse. Now, the featureless ceiling
seems serene, an uncomplicated refuge for him to focus on as he gradually calms
himself.
Calms himself enough to admit, to remind himself that he could make Mihashi
leave...he just doesn’t want to. And it’s not like Abe can’t control himself,
so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t let him sleep here if he wants to.
Perhaps it’s even GOOD for us, just another (somewhat unusual) bonding
experience. And it's probably also fine if he leaves his hand on Mihashi's
back... MIHASHI seems to like it, even if most people—most guys, at least—would
feel uncomfortable. Abe still feels a bit guilty, feels like he’s taking
advantage of the situation, though. Nevermind that MIHASHI’S the one that put
them in this weird position.
Trying to keep his expression neutral, Abe glances down at Mihashi...only to
find him looking back, eyes heavy-lidded but curious, making Abe’s heart thump
in his chest. Mihashi’s eyes widen when they meet his, but then he makes a
worried face and ducks his head, hunching his shoulders. Abe frowns, confused
and annoyed, especially when he feels Mihashi shaking slightly; the hell was
THAT about...? But he holds his tongue, doesn’t interrogate Mihashi, because
there’s no telling if that’ll be the thing that finally frightens him away. And
now, utterly selfishly and against his better judgment, Abe doesn’t want
Mihashi to leave.
And maybe... Mihashi responds so much better to touch than to words, and maybe,
for once, he can actually comfort him. (What he’s comforting him for, Abe still
has no idea, though; looking at him wrong...?) A way to make him feel good
that's acceptable, that's not overstepping. Heart in his mouth, Abe tentatively
strokes Mihashi's back.
And almost cheers when he feels Mihashi's shoulders relax.
Sudden affection hits him, even worse, more embarrassing than getting turned
on. Blushing, Abe clenches his jaw, turning away even though Mihashi probably
can’t see his expression; after a moment, he grumbles out a low sound and
shoves his hand into Mihashi’s hair, messing it up thoroughly. Mihashi
flinches, but the noise he makes in response sounds happy, so Abe’s going to
count that as a successful communication.
Another one. They’ve been happening more and more often, lately, as the two of
them have gotten closer. Mihashi actually seems to like him, not just respect
him, and, even if he still gets upset and frightened sometimes, is evidently
fairly comfortable around him. Maybe a little too comfortable: Mihashi grips
Abe's undershirt, fingertips dragging over his hip through the soft fabric, and
nudges his nose against his side with a contented sigh. Abe barely manages not
to clench his fingers in Mihashi’s hair. Now I’m feeling both affectionate AND
aroused. Great. He glares at the ceiling.
His annoyance only lasts a second, though. It’s washed away by the aching
happiness that's filling him from head to toe. This thing growing between them,
this thing that is almost what he wants, leaves him with a feeling that’s
different from but perhaps no less painful than when he wondered whether
Mihashi might hate him. But he can handle it, can keep himself in check. Has
to. If Mihashi knew, it would freak him right out, undo all of the carefully-
built trust between them, and he’s way too important to Abe, to the rest of the
team to run that risk. Definitely more important than Abe’s own inconvenient
feelings, more important than stupid things like dating and sex. Mihashi seems
almost beyond the reach of those things, those feelings, even if Abe knows full
well he’s not. He’s so peculiarly innocent, just doing whatever the hell he
feels like with no regard for how it looks to anyone else, let alone
consequences, half the time. That genuineness is endearing, but also crushes
any hope: if Mihashi felt attracted to him, there’s absolutely no way he’d be
able to hide it.
He’s almost envious. It would be nice to just let himself act on his feelings,
to pull Mihashi on top of him, and not worry about whether or not he’ll flip
out, not be mindful of his leg, not consider the effect something like this
might have on the team, just kiss him and see what happens. But that’s not who
he is. And it’s probably for the best, because ignoring all those problems (or
being completely oblivious to them) wouldn’t make them any less real.
He can be content with this. He’ll make himself be content with this.
At least the ice is helping with his knee.
===============================================================================
In the morning, Mihashi’s already up and dressed by the time Abe wakes, the
only evidence of his odd behaviour the night before the bag of ex-ice between
Abe’s legs and a slight smear of drool on his undershirt that he’s glad he
notices before they leave. Everything seems normal between them; for all he
knows, Mihashi doesn’t even remember what happened. Really, the whole thing
feels a bit surreal, now, and Abe does his best to put it out of his mind. By
the time they get on the bus that evening, he’s MORE than ready to sleep,
grateful that anyone who sits next to him probably won’t want to talk.
And then, even though there are plenty of seats free, even with Tajima bounding
up the steps behind him, Mihashi decides to sit next to him.
He obviously wants to talk about something, but, despite his curiousity, Abe
decides to beat a tactical retreat and pretend to fall asleep before Mihashi
can work his way around to it. ...And then he wakes him up to chirp at him
about it anyway. Still, it’s touching. Even if it would’ve been just as
touching the next morning. Or next week, when he’s had some time to recover
from last night.
Abe sleeps again, but not so deep that he doesn’t wake with a start when
Mihashi slumps against his shoulder.
It’s just an accident. And it’s not weird or anything. People fall asleep like
this all the time on buses and trains. It’s normal, cliché even. It doesn’t
mean anything. I’ve got absolutely no reason to get excited about it. I’m NOT
excited about it. I’m irritated. It’s annoying, and Mihashi’s probably going to
drool on this shirt too. Gross.
He’s not doing a very good job of convincing himself.
And there’s a tiny part of him that’s suspicious that this isn’t an accident,
that last night wasn’t just Mihashi being his normal peculiar clueless self.
Abe side-eyes him, trying to ascertain whether he’s really asleep, but so far
as he can tell, he is. And almost as soon as it occurs to him, the idea seems
ridiculous, anyway. What the hell is he thinking, that Mihashi’s trying to
start something, that he’s trying to flirt? Even if he were capable of
something like seduction, he seems pretty clearly interested in women, so he
certainly wouldn’t be doing it to Abe. And wouldn’t need to.
And he’ll just be shutting that line of thought down right there, thanks.
He’ll just enjoy this for what it is, another sign of how relaxed Mihashi’s
gotten with him, a bit of pleasant, friendly contact. And if his pulse is a
little fast, if he’s got the urge to put his arm around him and press a quick
kiss to his forehead, no one else is going to know. He does grudgingly allow
himself the luxury of (very casually) leaning his cheek against Mihashi’s head.
That’s still within the scope of things that people do normally. Not usually on
purpose, but it gives him a measure of plausible deniability. Abe breathes
carefully, gradually managing to settle down.
The bus takes a corner a bit fast, and Mihashi’s jostled against him, shifting
in his sleep until he’s leaning on him more, arm falling against Abe’s.
Exhaling a quiet amused breath, Abe adjusts them, sinking down in the seat,
angling his shoulder so Mihashi’s more comfortably cushioned, not in danger of
falling. Their arms are sort of in the way, and he’s not really sure what to do
about that. Really, the easiest, most practical thing probably WOULD be to put
my arm around—
Mihashi wiggles around, snuggling up to him again, now turned almost sideways
in the seat, face pressing into the curve of Abe’s neck.
He can’t seem to breathe. It doesn’t mean anything, though. It’s nothing, it’s—
Fingers brush over the top of his thigh, a skinny forearm following to drape
across his lap.
Every sensible, responsible part of him is telling him he should be gently-but-
firmly pushing Mihashi back upright. What if Mihashi wakes up, finds out I’ve
let him stay in this embarrassing position? ...What if he thinks I did this?
I’m starting to feel like a total creep.
A hand curls around his hip.
...THE HELL IS HE DOING? Any composure he’d regained is gone, just like that;
blushing furiously, Abe inhales shakily, eyes wide, trying to figure out what
to do. Mihashi smooths his hand up to his waist, shifting to lace the fingers
of his other hand with Abe’s. He fails to stop himself from squeezing his hand
back, but manages to resist doing anything more. There’s no way he’s still
asleep, but just the same, he can’t be certain Mihashi’s not just clueless, not
realising this is getting outside the realm of normal stuff between guys.
Well outside: after stroking his side a few times, Mihashi trails his hand up
Abe’s chest to curl around the side of his neck, nuzzles him. But he stills
then, breath hot on his neck. Abe’s feeling hopeful that that’s the end of this
torture, that maybe Mihashi’s even falling asleep, but then his lips start move
randomly against Abe’s skin before pressing in a kiss.
Oh no.
He wants this, wants this so bad that he just trembles for a moment, but WHY
NOW? He could shake Mihashi, this is so stupid. But all Abe does is tilt his
head back, free hand clenched on the seat as Mihashi presses more wet kisses up
to his jaw.
“Mihashi,” he breathes out, “quit...quit...” What the hell was THAT? I should
be telling him definitively to stop right now. Mihashi may be an airhead, but
I’M not some idiot kid who’s going to get caught making out on the bus. Yet
here he is, letting Mihashi slide his hand back down to his thigh, just barely
managing to keep himself still, keep himself from hauling him into his lap and
kissing him until he can’t breathe. It’s shameful, that he should have so
little self-control. And he knows damn well that if they get caught,
embarrassment will be the least of their worries. But Mihashi’s apparently not
plagued by the same concerns, sliding his hand up to the crease of Abe's hip
and thigh, pressing his fingers closer to his crotch. Before he can get any
further than that, Abe grabs his wrist, making him squeak; the last thing
Mihashi needs right now is the encouragement of finding out he’s already
getting him hard.
Maybe he didn’t hear him the first time over the rumble of the motor. “Mihashi,
we can’t...” But watching Mihashi shrink away from him, he can’t seem to get
the words out.
Maybe I can keep us to just making out. Maybe Mihashi will get tired and fall
back asleep. Apologetically, he tugs Mihashi’s hand back up and presses it
firmly against his chest, releasing it to stroke a thumb over his cheek. He
tilts Mihashi’s chin up, hesitating for a moment and then kisses his lips.
Mihashi’s lips slide gorgeously over his own, slightly spit-damp and soft
against his. Abe presses his nose against Mihashi’s cheek, inhaling and
exhaling slowly through parted lips, then tilts his head again because there is
no way in hell he’s doing that just once. He shakes his hand free of Mihashi’s,
sliding his arm around his waist, wincing a little as he follows suit and jams
his hand in between Abe’s back and the seat. His fingers are just shy of on
Abe’s ass, but he decides to let it go for now, especially since it allows him
to haul Mihashi a little closer, fingers pressing into his side as they kiss
again.
Just once more.
Mihashi wriggles against him, lips parting as they pull back, and it’s too
curious, the brief touch of even more delicate skin against his upper lip, the
huff of Mihashi’s breath, and what would his lips feel like in this new shape,
it’s only sensible to find out. He chases him, pleased with the way Mihashi’s
breath hitches, the way he clutches at the front of his shirt. He’s not quite
sure how to do it, Abe’s paralyzed for a second with uncertainty and the
wonderful feel of just this, but it turns out he only has to part his own lips
and Mihashi follows eagerly, breathing out the barest hum of noise that still
sends fire down Abe’s spine.
He slips his hand down off Mihashi’s jaw, stroking the side of his neck before
running his fingers up into his hair. It seems like Mihashi’s content to let
him direct things now, which is good. I can do this, can keep us from going too
far while still making it clear to you that I want this, want YOU. He sucks on
his lower lip, getting a needy hum of pleasure in response. Abe stops
immediately, frantically pressing a finger against Mihashi’s lips, shaking him
a little.
Mihashi stares back at him wide-eyed, but then leans in, pressing their cheeks
together to whisper, “I...I know... I’ll be qu-qu-quiet. So, please...?” Abe
nods, then turns his head to catch Mihashi’s mouth in another kiss. But he
can’t seem to get that sound out of his head as Mihashi wriggles against his
side, as his hand strays down until it is definitely on Abe’s ass. He can’t
help wondering about what it implies, wondering if Mihashi is getting hard too,
if his dick is pressing against the front of his pants, if he’s squirming
around like that so he can take advantage of the delicious friction of
fabric...
Can’t think about stuff like that. Abe pulls Mihashi even tighter against him,
hoping to still his movements. It mostly works. Except that then, perhaps
misinterpreting it as a go-ahead, Mihashi reaches down, yanking the front of
Abe's shirt out of his pants. Startled, Abe freezes, giving him the chance to
slip his hand under to stroke up to his chest, fingers tracing hot fire on his
bare skin. He should probably make him take his hand out. But at least it’s not
anywhere near his dick. Against all better judgment, he resumes kissing
Mihashi, then tugs back on his hair, producing a mercifully quiet gasp, so he
can trail his own line of kisses down Mihashi’s neck. He works open a few more
buttons of Mihashi’s shirt, then tugs the collar of his undershirt to the side,
kissing along his shoulder.
Mihashi moves his hand in random, almost absent-minded circles on Abe’s chest,
then goes still. Good. If I can keep him distracted, maybe I can keep him from
doing anything more, so I won’t get… Stroking Mihashi’s waist, he presses
another kiss to his collarbone, experimentally sucking, gently at first;
Mihashi shivers, exhaling a rough, shuddering breath. Okay, not TOO distracted,
or we’re gonna have a noise problem again. Still, he can’t help sucking harder
and then nipping him as he looses his hold on Mihashi's hair, smoothing his
hand down, over his cheek until his palm covers his mouth.
That'll work just fine, actually. Abe presses his hand firmly against Mihashi’s
lips, tipping his head back as he kisses up under his jaw. He should really
stop, but having Mihashi squirming around like this, gasping air in through his
nose, pulling his arm out of Abe’s shirt to grip his shoulders with both hands,
is filling him with a powerful, heady feeling, leaving him panting against his
skin, now fully hard. But that's not important, not going to be a problem. He
can still manage this, still keep things from going too far. And besides, now
it’s just him doing stuff, now he’s without the distraction of a hand sliding
over his bare skin, he can focus on Mihashi, can keep himself from getting too
caught up in this.
He slides his hand up Mihashi’s spine and then back down, curling it tighter
around his waist as he kisses the hollow of his throat. Mihashi’s fingers
tighten and relax on his shoulders, but, even if it’s more reminder than
anything else, the hand on his mouth keeps him silent. Abe rests his forehead
against Mihashi’s hot skin for a moment, eyes closed as he exhales slowly. I
should stop. I should really, REALLY stop. I’m GOING to stop.
Abe opens his eyes, finds himself looking down at Mihashi’s lap.
Even in the dim light, Mihashi’s pants are doing very little to hide his
erection. It’s not like it’s a surprise, it’s just different, actually seeing
the physical evidence that Mihashi is turned on. And it’s because he’s touching
him, and it’s insanely hot. Abe shoves his face against Mihashi’s shoulder with
a (mostly quiet) groan, dropping both hands to grab his hips. With what feels
like inhuman restraint, he drags his palms down the outside of Mihashi’s
thighs. I can’t let you see this, see how much I want this, or I don’t know
what either of us will do. I’ve gotta distract you, gotta do SOMETHING,
anything that isn’t shoving you down on the seat and mouthing your damn dick
through your pants. So, he roughly pulls down the other side of Mihashi’s
collar and bites him. Hard.
Mihashi hisses in a breath; Abe’s worried he’s really hurt him, frozen, just
breathing heavily against his skin.
But then Mihashi dips his head to whisper, “Please...th-th-that again, please,”
lips brushing his ear, sweetly intimate and incredibly indecent all at once.
His mind is all sparking, hot pleasure, and he shudders, hips twitching. He’s
got enough presence of mind that he still feels a little guilty about the bite,
so he licks the mark, already visible on Mihashi’s pale skin, but it’s
impossible to resist gradually sucking it harder. He nips the spot once more
and then sucks kisses along his shoulder, biting him again on the curve of his
collarbone. Mihashi pushes his face against his shoulder, quieting the little
noises he makes, leaving Abe wishing he could drag his head back so he could
hear. Something for later.
And then it’s him choking back a frantic noise against Mihashi’s skin as he
cups his dick through his pants. He hadn’t even noticed his hand wasn’t on his
shoulder anymore.
We NEED to stop, we can’t do this, this is the absolute WORST IDEA. But his
body’s betraying him, hips jerking, pushing his dick into Mihashi’s touch, an
accomplice in this trainwreck of a situation. Abe’s simultaneously delighted
and appalled to discover that no, he doesn’t have enough self-control, not for
this. Not for Mihashi pulling back to fix him with a surprisingly steady gaze,
cheeks flushed dark in flashes of streetlight, breathing hard, clothing and
hair mussed, and palming his dick with an enthusiasm that leaves him spreading
his toes in his sneakers and digging his fingers into Mihashi’s hip.
He gives up on trying to stop this, finally admits to himself he doesn’t
goddamn want to, anyway. Now, his goal is just to keep them both quiet. Abe
pulls Mihashi in for another kiss, then strokes down from his hips once more
before curling a hand over his leg to press his fingers into the plushness of
his inner thigh. He knows he should probably try to get him off as quick as
possible, but he can’t help wanting to just touch Mihashi, now he’s finally
letting himself, just familiarise his hands with the contours his eyes already
know so well. Still, he doesn’t linger too long before sliding his hand up to
feel the length of his dick, delighting in Mihashi’s sharp inhale. He rubs
slowly, enjoying the way Mihashi’s narrow hips rock with the movement. But it’s
not going to be enough, he wants to feel the heat of his skin, wants to really
see Mihashi hard.
Abe fumbles a bit with Mihashi’s belt, then undoes it, gripping the buckle
carefully to avoid any suspicious clinking. Logic doesn’t come easy right now,
but after a second, he tucks the buckle into Mihashi’s front pocket. Lips
twitching up at Mihashi’s urgent, shallow breathing, Abe unbuttons his pants,
and then, with agonising but necessary slowness, unzips them. Holding him with
one hand fitted against the slight curve of his waist, he slips the other
inside his pants, at first simply cupping Mihashi’s dick and panting against
his lips. Hips jerking, Mihashi makes a small noise, full of desperate want for
all its softness. Abe kisses him again quick before tipping his head to look as
he slides his hand firmly against Mihashi’s dick through the soft cotton of his
underwear. Mihashi pushes into his touch, then arches, belly tight on a held
breath, and Abe knows, knows he’s fighting to stay silent, fighting because of
what he’s doing; it leaves him flushed with a strange satisfaction, an intense
arousal that just leaves him wanting more.
It’s intoxicating, the way his hips twitch and his breath catches, the way his
fingers clench on Abe’s shoulder, the way his other hand stills on Abe’s dick
as his body tenses again. Mihashi lets go of his shoulder suddenly, and then
his fingers tuck into the waistband of Abe’s pants, sliding against his stomach
until he hits the button. Eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown, Abe
reluctantly releases Mihashi to knock his hands out of the way; he doesn’t
entirely trust him to do that quietly. He relaxes back on the seat to undo his
pants himself, relieved to take his weight off his injured leg for a moment.
Mihashi watches, leaning against Abe’s shoulder and slipping hot palms up under
his shirt, pressing a wet kiss to the side of his neck. Abe breathes out a
quiet chuckle at his obvious impatience that ends with a tight inhale as
Mihashi shoves his hand in his pants. He can’t seem to move, just smacks his
head back against the seat and mouths silent, incoherent words at the roof of
the bus while Mihashi rubs his dick and kisses his throat.
He’s too eager to get his hands on him again to just let himself enjoy this,
though. And really get his hands on him, now. Abe twists to lean his forehead
against Mihashi’s, watching intently as he yanks down the waistband of
Mihashi’s underwear so he can pull his cock out and curl his hand around it,
stroking immediately. He knows he’s impeding Mihashi’s movements, but it’s
unimportant when he’s got him squirming around and fisting his free hand in
Abe’s shirt.
But he’s also starting to make more of those quiet, desperate noises. Beautiful
as they are, Abe brings his free hand up to smooth his thumb over Mihashi’s
cheek, kissing him, making soft shushing noises against his lips. It’s painful
how hot he is, making Abe’s hips jerk, making him wish they were somewhere
private. He presses his thumb over Mihashi's parted lips, as though that could
somehow hold back any sound he made, kissing his cheek.
Mihashi’s movements become erratic, his hand in Abe's pants finally stilling
completely as he tugs on his shirt with an aimless urgency. Abe’s touch on his
dick is firmer, insistent now as he strokes his cheek, his neck, his hair,
whispering nearly inaudible words of encouragement against his skin. When
Mihashi stops moving entirely, save for a tense shiver, Abe pulls back, cupping
his cheek and watching raptly as he bites his lip, inhaling staccato breaths
through his nose. His eyelids flutter open and he stares back at Abe,
trembling, mouth opening soundlessly as he comes into Abe’s fingers.
With a self-satisfied smile, Abe releases his dick as Mihashi lets out a
stuttering breath and drops his head on his shoulder. Gently, he tugs Mihashi’s
underwear back into place, and is trying to figure out how to work his fly when
Mihashi shakes himself and starts palming his dick again, lazy with sleep and
afterglow, turning his head to kiss Abe’s neck lightly. Clumsily, he pulls
Abe’s underwear down, half- freeing his dick. Abe wants to speak, tell him he
doesn’t have to do that, tell him he can just sleep now if he wants, tell him
he’s going to make even more of a mess that they have no way to clean up, but
he can’t trust his voice right now, so he just grabs his wrist, tugging his
hand away.
When Mihashi pushes himself back abruptly, tearing his wrist out of Abe's
grasp, Abe’s chest tightens; Mihashi’s going to take it wrong, going to freak
out like so many times before. He’s still frozen when Mihashi bends over,
yanking his underwear down further and wrapping his hand around the base of his
dick, breath ghosting over the head. Oh. Mihashi hesitates for a few agonising
moments, Abe trying to persuade his limbs to move, to take advantage of his
moment of unsureness to push him back. If anyone woke up, if anyone looked
right now, there’d be no explaining this away. But all that happens is his hips
twitch, nudging his dick against the corner of Mihashi’s mouth, startling quiet
gasps out of both of them. Spurred into action, Mihashi squeezes his dick
lightly and slicks his tongue against the side, over the head, before closing
his lips around it.
It’s all Abe can do to bite back a groan as he slides his lips down a little
ways, spit-slick and warm even against his fevered skin as he pulls back. With
each bob of his head, Mihashi only takes him into his mouth shallowly, but it’s
enough, enough to have Abe pushing his toes against the floor, legs trembling
as he tries not to fuck his mouth. Mihashi’s tongue presses against his skin,
seeming more unconscious curiousity than any sort of purposeful movement, but
amazing as he sucks back up his cock. Every so often, Abe can feel the slight
vibration of sound through Mihashi’s lips, noises he can't even hear, but that
leave him breathless with the knowledge that Mihashi’s finding this hot, that
he’s enjoying it, even after coming himself. His left hand feels empty, now,
and he gropes around until he finds Mihashi's free hand, curling his fingers
around it. Sliding his lips off his dick for a moment, panting, Mihashi turns
his palm, lacing their fingers together against Abe's hip, then sucks him back
in with renewed enthusiasm.
Abe’s close, right on the edge, digging his (carefully kept closed) fist into
his thigh, shoving his head back against the seat, chest rising and falling
rapidly with each tightly controlled breath. And then Mihashi groans around his
dick, loud enough that he can hear, and it pushes him over the edge. Jamming
his knuckles against his mouth, hips rocking up in barely controlled jerks, Abe
comes deep in Mihashi's mouth. He chokes slightly, but before Abe can feel bad,
Mihashi’s sucking, tongue working against his skin as he swallows his come,
humming another happy noise around his dick that makes him push up into him
with each aftershock.
Mihashi lets his dick slip out of his mouth, shoving his forehead against Abe’s
thigh for a moment before lifting his head to smile at him drowsily. Abe smiles
back, dragging their linked hands up to press his lips to the back of Mihashi's
and then holding it against his chest. He swallows, almost speaks.
And then remembers where they are with a jolt. Frantic, he jerks the waistband
of his underwear out of Mihashi’s loose grip, gets his dick tidied away with a
speed that surprises himself. Getting his pants done up is more than he can
manage one-handed, though, and he stares blankly at his sticky fingers. Mihashi
pushes himself up, blinking at him in sleepy confusion, then reaches for the
pocket on the back of the seats in front of them, and pulls out...the paper
with weight-training info on it, holding it out. Abe stares back at him, then
at the paper, then gives Mihashi an unimpressed look and pushes the paper away
before wiping his hand as clean as possible on the inside of his underwear.
Gross, but it’ll do. Except that then he thinks about the fact that it’s
Mihashi’s come, that he’s going to spend the rest of this trip with Mihashi’s
come on his underwear. A residual shiver runs down his spine.
When he looks up, Mihashi's smiling shyly; he leans toward Abe, but hesitates.
Abe cups his cheek, coaxing him the rest of the way, drawing him in for a
lingering kiss. Close- mouthed. “Thank you,” he breathes against his lips,
stroking his cheek, adding, with a knowing smirk, “That was amazing.” Mihashi
wiggles against him, and when he leans back to look, he’s smiling bigger than
before, cheeks flushed dark at the praise. Abe smiles back at him (more
pleasantly this time), reluctantly dropping his hand to rebutton Mihashi’s
shirt and trying not to think about bruises.
He gets them as neatened up as possible and then kisses Mihashi lightly before
pulling back and fixing him with a stern look. “Now, why, exactly, didn’t you
do this last night?” he demands, voice barely a whisper but no less forceful
for that.
Mihashi cringes, breaks eye-contact, but still answers, “Um, I... I don’t
know??” With a sigh, Abe presses their foreheads together; at least he’s
honest. But Mihashi continues, “W-wanted to... But...scared? Thought Abe-
kun...but... And then!" Abe blinks at him, surprised to be getting such a
lengthy (if still completely incomprehensible) explanation. "H-hoped...wouldn't
have to... But tonight! G-got excited. And...I thought, if...if Abe-kun didn’t
want...would s-s-stop me??”
“‘Want’ isn’t...” he trails off with a pained expression. None of that answers
his question of why now, in pretty much the worst situation possible, but Abe
decides not to press the issue for the time being. “Okay. Let’s just...let’s
just sleep.” Mihashi nods, and Abe slumps back on the seat, eyes closing as
exhaustion washes over him.
Only to open them wide when Mihashi flops down with his head in his lap. Words
of protest die on his lips; Mihashi nuzzles his leg, tucking a hand underneath,
unfairly adorable. People will just think it’s him being weird anyway.
Probably. Hopefully. With a resigned expression, Abe pets his hair until they
fall asleep.
===============================================================================
Abe waits when the team files off the bus in the morning; he’s still moving
slow, and it’s better to let everyone else off first. Which is why he’s still
sitting, staring off into space when Tajima grabs his hand and gives him a
high-five and a ridiculous grin. Abe stares, horrified, but Tajima just keeps
walking. Izumi’s groggy question meets with the answer, “Eh, nothing, just
buggin’ him!”
I’m going to have to murder him. Hanai better improve his pitch calling real
quick.
But then Mihashi totters up, carrying both their bags, and smiling, really
smiling at him, and everything else is forgotten. Standing, Abe says, “I can
take that,” already lifting the strap off, eyeing the last stragglers getting
off the bus.
“N-no, I--” Mihashi’s protest is cut off when, briefly hidden by arms and bag,
Abe presses a quick kiss to his lips. Mihashi tries to follow him, but Abe
stops him with a finger over his mouth.
Grinning warmly, he says, “Later.” Cheeks pink, Mihashi looks so ridiculously
happy that Abe kisses him again anyway.
End Notes
     I'm sorry, Abe. It...it was me. I'M the reason Mihashi didn't touch
     your dick in the hotel room. uvu I...I have a bit of a...a thing
     for...public sex, so when I read the Koushien trip arc, this is where
     my mind went immediately. But I struggled with myself about writing
     this for a LONG TIME, because the entire premise is just SO
     COMPLETELY OOC for Abe. He would NEVER let them do anything like
     this, not in a MILLION YEARS. He'd almost sooner throw Mihashi off
     the bus. Almost.
     I wrote this Abe a little more self-aware than normal...even if he is
     TOTALLY lying to himself when they're on the bus. Actually, pretty
     much this entire fic. Self-control, indeed. It was really fun writing
     a more forward Mihashi, though! He must be pretty frustrated and
     impatient by now, waiting for Abe to notice that he's 900% into him,
     so I can't blame him. Get that d, Mihashi! *high fives*
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