
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3945409.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ダイヤのA_|_Daiya_no_A_|_Ace_of_Diamond
  Relationship:
      Miyuki_Kazuya/Sawamura_Eijun
  Character:
      Miyuki_Kazuya, Sawamura_Eijun
  Additional Tags:
      eijunweek, Bottom_Miyuki, PWP
  Collections:
      Eijun_Week_2015
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-15 Words: 1848
****** When I Give, I Give Myself ******
by TrumpetGeek
Summary
     Being the center of Eijun's focus, the center of his world, makes
     Kazuya pulse with heat.
Notes
     HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEATPEA!!! I hope you enjoy your present from Miyuki
     ;)
See the end of the work for more notes
                                      -+-
              Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity,
                          When I give I give myself.
                         –Walt Whitman, Song of Myself
                                      -+-
 
===============================================================================
 
"Oh, shit," Kazuya breathes, mouth open against the pillows and panting. The
fingers inside of him crook and twist, vicious and unrelenting. He jerks and
moans, comes apart against Eijun's palm. He reaches down with a shaking hand,
fingers trailing down his tummy in an all-too-familiar route south, but he's
slapped away before he even reaches his destination.
 
"No," Eijun says. He sounds almost amused; it makes Kazuya squirm. When Eijun
had told him what he'd wanted to do to him, Kazuya had immediately been
interested, but this is not what he'd expected. Eijun naked and flushed, mouth
parted and wet around sighs and murmurs of appreciation –
 
(appreciation for him, for his moans and sighs, for his skin and his mouth and
his writhing body, god)
 
-eyes like gold watching the place where his fingers are disappearing into his
partner's body. He's intense like this, settled between Kazuya's thighs
like the negative space is his throne. He's intense, and beautiful, and so
much more.
 
"You could come from just this, couldn't you. Just my fingers inside you."
 
It's not presented as a question -Eijun already knows the truth of it. But it's
not what he wants, and Eijun knows that too. His mouth slits into a grin, all
sharp shiny white teeth and yellow eyes and Kazuya remembers how fearless he is
on the mound, how he likes to fuck with the batters almost as much as he likes
doing this.
 
"Say please," he husks, voice low and heavy, curling like smoke in Kazuya's
lungs. Kazuya throws him a nasty glare, but the fingers stroking inside of him
nudge against that spot and take away all of his frustration in a flood of
pleasure that makes his toes curl and his mouth fall open in a hoarse shout.
 
"Hah! God, just -" 
 
"Just what?"
 
"Eijun -"
 
The fingers curl again and he cries out, fingers spasming and twisting in the
sheets at his hips. He feels hot, raw, burnt through like a forest after a
fire, like Eijun's touch is simultaneously breaking him up and putting his
pieces back together. 
 
If anyone is going to break him, it would be Eijun.
 
"One word, senpai," Eijun murmurs. He wields the title like a weapon, voice is
so quiet that Kazuya has to strain to hear him over his own labored breathing.
He gets the feeling that the forest fire analogy isn't really that far off -
beautiful but deadly, heat and energy and life and an intensity that burns
anyone who comes into contact.
 
Yes.
 
Kazuya scrabbles for an anchor to hold on to when Eijun adds a third finger and
sinks them all the way to the last knuckle, twisting and stroking until the
word the pitcher is looking for is dragged out of him, burning his throat and
coating his tongue with heat.
 
"Please!"
 
"Please what?" 
 
"Nng -"
 
The fingers withdraw, and Kazuya has to squeeze his eyes shut and breathe
through the burn in his chest. Wet fingers grasp his chin and jerk his head up,
forcing him to open his eyes and meet Eijun's molten gaze.
 
"Look at me," he says, breathless and fierce. Confident. Demanding Kazuya's
full attention, and giving his in return. Being the center of Eijun's focus,
the center of his world, makes Kazuya pulse with heat.
 
Eijun leans down until his mouth is centimeters away, hot damp breath fanning
across Kazuya's lips and stealing all of his focus.
 
"Please what," he asks again, fingers sliding up Kazuya's jaw and into his
hair, anchoring him in place.
 
"Fuck me."
 
Eijun keeps leaning down, closes those centimeters until he steals Kazuya's
breath, too, kissing him with all the passion and focus he puts into his
pitching and then some. Kazuya parts his lips, invites that velvet soft tongue
inside as he lets himself be consumed. He moans into that mouth, an obscene wet
noise masked by the sound of the sheets rasping against Eijun's skin and the
quiet snick of a cap being popped open.
 
He sits back to slick his cock, heavy and red from going untouched. Kazuya
barely notices -Eijun's other hand is wrapping around his dick, squeezing just
enough to keep the pleasure going. He sighs, lets his shaking thighs fall open,
rolls his hips up into the slow, measured strokes of Eijun's hand.
 
"Ready?"
 
He stares at Eijun incredulously, jerks his hips up into his hand as if to say
'what do you think?' He appreciates the sentiment -Eijun is ultimately a sweet
boy, always wanting to double-check for his consent whenever they do things
sexual or nonsexual- but he is starting to ache. His partner flushes down to
his chest and smacks the inside of Kazuya's thigh. It's light but it still
leaves his skin prickling, and he lets out a sharp gasp. 
 
Eijun watches his face, and after a moment he grins. "So you like that, huh?"
 
"Eijun -"
 
The pitcher slaps him again, harder, and then leans down to press his smiling
mouth to the red patch of skin, tongue darting out for a taste, making Kazuya
sigh and his eyes flutter closed. Warm, calloused hands skim up his calves and
down the backs of his thighs, spreading him apart for Eijun's perusal.
 
"You look amazing," he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. Kazuya feels that
heated gaze on his skin and his stomach clenches. Eijun always looks at him
like that, like Kazuya holds Eijun's personal universe in his palm. Sometimes
he wonders if he's worthy of it.
 
When he slides in, he does it all at once, a slow burning drag that fills
Kazuya up and makes the breath stutter in his chest. Eijun is hot and heavy
above him, bottom lip between his teeth and eyes half-lidded like he is
fighting not to come right then and there. Kazuya parts his legs further, uses
what little leverage he has to draw his partner even closer, until Eijun's
hipbones dig into the backs of his thighs and a shivery sigh shakes itself
loose from his lover's throat.
 
"You feel so good, Kazuya," Eijun moans. Sweat drips from his face and his arms
shake with the effort of keeping himself still, trying to allow Kazuya the time
to adjust to something bigger and longer than slender pitcher's fingers. He
doesn't want it though. He relishes the weight and heat of Eijun's cock inside
him, the feeling of almost unbearable fullness between his legs. He tightens
his inner muscles and Eijun groans and sighs above him, hips jerking into him
helplessly. 
 
He relishes that, too. 
 
They start a lazy rhythm like this, hips slapping together when Eijun settles
hard against him, long slow deep strokes that leave Kazuya whimpering and
sobbing, so powerful the bed creaks. Not fast enough, but just right to take
him apart. Sweet words drip from Eijun’s mouth, naughty little things like "you
feel so good around my cock, Kazuya," and "you look so pretty like this, on
your back with your legs spread." Obscene words to play harmony to the symphony
of noises their bodies make when they have sex, and the wet little sounds of
their mouths as they breathe kisses into each others lungs.
 
It drives him mad, sets him on fire.
 
"Faster," he says. Begs, pleads, whatever will get Eijun to keep going.
"Harder." Voice breathy on the edge of a whine as Eijun fucks into him with a
vicious twist of his hips. Kazuya squeezes Eijun's sides with his knees,
settles his heels into the sensitive dip of his partner's lower back to spur
him on. The boy above him moans, skin pink and slick with sweat, arms shaking
and mouth open with pleasure.
 
Eijun is beautiful always, but never more so than when he's made vulnerable
with pleasure.
 
The rhythm changes sharply, and he gasps and sobs as Eijun jerks into him,
finding his prostate with every shift and press of his hips.
 
"Nng! Hah, Eijun -" He's so close, so hard and so full and so turned on that
the rasp of the sheets under his back is almost too much sensation on his skin.
He wants to touch himself, is almost desperate to feel what's building up in
the pit of his stomach, but Eijun doesn't let him.
 
"Don't -" Eijun hisses, teeth gritted and hands making bruises on Kazuya's
hips. He's close too, Kazuya can feel it in the way his hips begin to stutter,
the way his fingers trace along his sides and chest, sparking trails of heat
wherever they touch. Kazuya lifts arms made of lead, frames Eijun's flushed
face in his hands, brings him down for a wet, sloppy, dirty kiss that turns
into many, shared breath and swallowed moans as his body jerks and his back
arches off the mattress.
 
He comes hard, sobbing broken litanies into Eijun's warm wet mouth. He comes
hard, dick twitching and thighs shaking as he paints his stomach white. He
comes hard, mind and vision wiped blank with only Eijun's sobs of "oh fuck" to
keep him grounded.
 
Eijun comes not long after him, voice hoarse, branding Kazuya with his own
name. Makes a mess of Kazuya's hips and thighs, scratch marks and bruises and
come and tired kisses pressed to the center of his heaving chest. His arms
shake and he moans quietly through the aftershocks, and the fondness spreads
through Kazuya's chest like warm honey.
 
"Come here, idiot," he murmurs through a wrecked throat. Eijun lowers himself
as carefully as possible, but his arms give out halfway and he drops on Kazuya
with a grunt, chest to chest and face pressed to the crook of his catcher's
neck. 
 
"Mmph, I'm worn out."
 
Kazuya makes a sleepy noise in the back of his throat and smiles, mouth
pressing sweetly against the curve of Eijun's cheek. He nudges Eijun into a
position that's more comfortable and fits an arm around his waist, holding him
close despite the sweat cooling on their skin and the stickiness seeping
between his thighs and coating his stomach. He knows he should clean up or
they'll wake up gross, but Eijun's body is warm and solid and Kazuya doesn't
think he's ever felt so sated after sex.
 
Eijun's sigh fans warm and light across his collarbones as he snuggles deeper
into the mattress, settling his weight against Kazuya like a breathing blanket.
 
"Mm, we should do that again," Kazuya breathes, grinning when Eijun's thumb
stops its unconscious caress over the naked ridge of his hipbone. He glances up
with one eye, trying not to look too hopeful at the prospect but failing
miserably.
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Mmhm. I know you'll take good care of me."
 
"You're such a shit, Miyuki Kazuya," Eijun says, but there's no bite to his
words and no force to the hand that smacks sleepily at Kazuya's chest. He
catches it in his own, brings it to lie flat over the skin above his heart,
watches Eijun still as he counts its beats.
End Notes
     I apologize if you find any errors or if this doesn’t seem up to par
     for my usual stuff! I’ve been super stressed out about work and
     things and I didn’t get to spend the amount of time on this that I
     wanted. I hope you like it anyway!
     SPECIAL THANKS goes out to mewyukis and southpaws-catcher on tumblr
     for encouraging this idea =^)
     And as always please feel free to drop by my main blog @kuramisawa or
     my writing blog @trumpet-geek on tumblr if you want!
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