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drop, catch, cradle

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The only time Shouta lets Hizashi take care of him is right after a Scene.

Tonight, the Scene is over after Hizashi finally lets his husband come, whispering pretty words of praise in his ear, his gorgeous Kitty wrapped up in his arms and bucking into his hand as he jerks him off nice and fast. A reward, for being so, so good for Hizashi earlier.

Shouta is so gorgeous when he just lets himself relax. It really is a treat for Hizashi to be the one to help him get there.

Now, he sags into Hizashi’s grip, head lolling onto his shoulder. They remain like that for a quiet few moments, Shouta catching his breath and melting further into Hizashi as the Dom whispers more words of praise and adoration into his ears, kissing chastely at all the skin he can reach.

When Shouta’s breath has been caught and it seems like he’s starting to come down, Hizashi carefully manoeuvres him to lay on the bed. Next, he slips off his harness and collar, leaving him totally bare. Shouta curls towards Hizashi as he pulls away, whining in complaint as he loses contact with his husband.

“Just getting a cloth,” Hizashi says, soothing. He quickly inspects the gear, putting it aside when he confirms they don’t need immediate cleaning. Not a drop of lube or cum on them. Seconds later, he returns to Shouta with a warm, damp cloth and sits himself on the bed beside his husband.

Shouta groans a little, trying to press into Hizashi. Worried Hizashi will leave. “Shh, Kitty,” Hizashi hushes, pressing little kisses to Shouta’s face as he wipes away the mess of cum on his stomach and his pretty, spent cock. “I’ll take care of everything. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

With careful, well practiced movements, Hizashi wipes away ejaculate and lube and spit and sweat, cleaning Shouta up nicely. He hums and sighs under the treatment. Shouta would be grumpy and sticky come morning if he missed anything here.

“Y’okay?” Shouta mumbles, catching his wrist and rubbing little warm circles into the sensitive flesh.

A little part of Hizashi untightens, a something he hadn’t realised was tense until now. He stills, allowing Shouta to reach up with both hands and touch him quietly for a few minutes. Achingly slow, warm and tender. As he soothes Hizashi’s sudden craving for touch and comfort, he mumbles under his breath, his own words praise and affirmation.

“Love you,” Shouta says, smiling a little, “That was so good.”

“I love you too.”

Hizashi draws back carefully, intending to put the cloth somewhere to deal with later, and grab some new, soft clothes for Shouta. As soon as he is no longer in contact with his husband, the man whines and reaches for him, half asleep and still blissed out.

Fingers tenderly stroking Shouta’s cheek, Shouta presses sleepily closer to the contact, and after a moment of awe (and consideration of the very tempting idea to just climb into bed and fall asleep naked with his husband) Hizashi gives a warm kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right back, Kitty, I’m getting you some nice comfy clothes to sleep in.”

Placated by Hizashi’s attention and explanation, Shouta doesn’t complain when Hizashi leaves his side and crosses the room.

(These moments are among the memories Hizashi holds dearest to him. Though Shouta would be embarrassed to remember his vulnerability or lack of lucidity, Hizashi cherishes the absolute trust and closeness implicitly displayed.

Such blessedly simple moments. Where they don’t have to be heroes and teachers who work tirelessly for others, don’t have to be the couple who may not survive to their next anniversary, date, meal. They can just be two husbands, two people in love. Just Hizashi and Shouta.

Hizashi would sooner quit being a hero than give up any part of Hizashi and Shouta.)

He hums under his breath as he picks out Shouta’s favourite pyjamas; pink, cat-patterned flannelette pants, and an oversized and well-loved band shirt of Hizashi’s.

“Alright, sit up for me.”

Shouta does, and Hizashi guides him into his clothes. He quickly goes through his mental list of immediate aftercare and cleanup things, and finally dresses himself once he affirms all of the necessary things are done.

“..Thank you,” Shouta says, quiet. Coming back to himself.

Hizashi props himself up on an elbow and takes in his husband’s healthily flushed face. He can’t help but touch him, trace his stubble-rough cheek down to his jaw with his fingertips. It’s a lot like Shouta himself- looks rough, feels prickly at first, but beneath it all is a supple, oh-so-valuable softness. Hizashi cups his face and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“No need to thank me, love. Just keep communicating with me like before, alright?”

Shouta nods, yawns, and presses his face lightly into Hizashi’s hand. “‘course.”

Smiling brightly, Hizashi kisses Shouta again, on the lips this time- a little longer, a little slower, a little more. “Awesome. Now how about we get some shut eye, Kitty?”

Eyes narrow, glaring briefly. The expression melts away as Shouta instead rolls his eyes and cuddles up to Hizashi.

“You’re making breakfast tomorrow.”

“Sure, sure.”

Hizashi wraps himself around Shouta’s warmth, lets their legs tangle secure and intimate like they’re over-emotional teenagers, and falls asleep with love in his veins and glowing happiness beating his heart.