As time has passed, Kazuya has come to accept one universal truth – Eijun looks good in red.
Kazuya is partial to Seido blue, but there’s just something about the warmth of the color red. There’s nothing that brings out the undertones of Eijun’s skin, highlights the gilded metal of his irises, or makes Kazuya want to catch his mouth beneath his own quite like seeing him in ruddy hues.
And God, does Kazuya love Eijun’s mouth.
The way it splits open wide around a bright smile. How it parts around pleased sounds when Kazuya trails his fingers over Eijun’s skin. How easily it curls around sinful, delightful words that make Kazuya tremble with desire.
But Eijun’s lips traced in crimson?
Kazuya isn’t prepared for it.
He kicks his shoes off in the entryway of his apartment, dropping his backpack in the hall. He tugs at his tie, itching to get out of the dress clothes he’d had to wear for a class presentation earlier. It’s finally Friday, and Kazuya can’t wait to spend the weekend with Eijun.
“I’m home,” he calls out in greeting as he steps out of the hall. Eijun should have arrived a couple of hours ago. He hears shuffling in the living room and smiles softly to himself, looking forward to seeing his boyfriend.
But he stops short, nearly stumbling over his own feet when his eyes finally land on Eijun.
“Hi,” Eijun greets, immediately stepping into Kazuya’s space. This is familiar – Eijun usually greets Kazuya with a kiss whenever he sees Kazuya again after any period of time apart. But Kazuya’s brain short-circuits, stumbling over the alluring color of Eijun’s lips as he speaks, catching on them.
Eijun’s wearing lipstick.
“Hi,” Kazuya manages to say back, trying to dig up the instructions on how to articulate properly. Oh no, he thinks, heat prickling beneath his skin. This is not a kink Kazuya thought he had before this moment.
But he certainly does now.
Eijun smiles softly, fingers sliding up over Kazuya’s tie, wrapping around the knot at his collar, tugging him down closer. Kazuya’s breath catches in his throat as Eijun tilts his chin up, dangling his enticing mouth right in front of Kazuya, just a hair’s breadth out of reach. “I missed you. Welcome home.”
“Oh,” Kazuya says, eyes dragging over Eijun’s skin, along the light dust of freckles over his cheeks, settling on his mouth. “You, too.”
At this, Eijun grins, delighted by the way Kazuya’s brain struggles to keep up. What a tease. Kazuya is going to make him pay for this later. “Do you like what you see, Miyuki Kazuya?”
Kazuya swallows down the quiet whine that threatens to escape his throat as his hands come to settle on Eijun’s hips. “It’s okay,” Kazuya jokes, but his words come out breathless, betraying how affected he is by the sight of Eijun in lipstick. This is not what Kazuya had expected to run into in the first five minutes of seeing his boyfriend after a couple of weeks apart - but he's certainly not upset by it.
“Just okay?” Eijun purrs out the question, taking the tie and sliding the tip of the fabric over Kazuya’s jaw. He runs the material over Kazuya’s lips, feather-light and deliberately taunting.
Kazuya swallows, parched, feeling his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. Good God, Sawamura Eijun is going to be the death of him. “What’s the occasion?” He manages to ask in response, voice raspy already – and Eijun hasn’t even kissed him yet.
The thought of kissing Eijun and having his own lips come back painted red makes fierce, gripping arousal drip down Kazuya’s spine. He is entirely out of his element. He is completely and totally smitten with this boy in a way that makes him want to do things he normally would never volunteer without being pushed to his limit.
Seriously, the things he would do for a kiss right now. Drop to his knees. Take Eijun in his mouth.
“Just felt like it,” Eijun responds simply, tracing his fingers along the collar of Kazuya’s shirt. “I thought it was pretty. Thought you might like it, too.”
Kazuya swallows and fingers the material of Eijun’s shirt. “Uh,” he says intelligently. “I do. Like it. Yeah.”
At this, Eijun’s mouth turns into a wide smile that seems impossibly more vibrant than usual because of the hue of his lips. Eijun's cheeks dimple, eyes dancing, pleased by Kazuya’s admission. “Yeah?” Eijun breathes out, working his fingers to loosen Kazuya’s tie slightly, dragging adrenaline through Kazuya’s veins at the thought of what’s to come.
“Mhm,” Kazuya agrees again because it’s true – and also because he knows Eijun wants to hear it. And right now, he’s willing to give Eijun anything he wants. Fuck. “It’s pretty. You’re pretty.”
At the gentle praise, Eijun’s skin blossoms with a delicate blush that only makes the entire situation worse for Kazuya. The dust of pink above the roses of Eijun’s lips pulls deep-rooted yearning and affection from the cavity of Kazuya’s chest. “Thank you,” Eijun says sweetly, wrapping one of his hands around the nape of Kazuya’s neck, tangling his fingers in his hair. “I missed you,” he repeats his earlier sentiment. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Kazuya’s licks his lips, eyes roaming over Eijun’s features. He tries not to stare too wantonly at Eijun’s painted mouth, tries to keep the swell of desire at bay. “Have you now?” Kazuya murmurs, sliding his arms up to wrap around Eijun’s waist more securely. The space between them is warm, humid, crackling with a rolling tension. “What were you thinking about?”
When Eijun tugs at the knot around Kazuya’s neck and dusts his lips against Kazuya’s, Kazuya groans. He chases after Eijun, desperate to be kissed properly, to taste the rouge on Eijun’s lips. Eijun pulls back, taunting, denying, making Kazuya squirm. “Kissing you,” Eijun answers, eyes heavy-lidded as they skim over Kazuya's features, roaming between his eyes, down over his nose, pausing at his mouth. “Making up for the past couple of weeks. Leaving marks all over you. Going down on you.”
Kazuya swallows a groan and bumps his nose against Eijun’s. “I have the best boyfriend.”
At this, Eijun smiles saucily and tilts his chin up, teasing Kazuya’s lips with his own again, leaving Kazuya filled with nothing but longing. “I am pretty darn great,” Eijun playfully retorts.
Jesus, Kazuya adores Sawamura Eijun.
“Eijun,” Kazuya murmurs, following after Eijun’s mouth, impatient, too turned on for someone who has just walked in the door and hasn’t even been kissed yet. His fingers slide beneath Eijun’s shirt, pressing into warm skin, “C’mon, where’s my welcome home kiss?”
Eijun takes mercy on him and wraps his arms around Kazuya’s neck. “You know all you have to do is ask, Kazuya,” he says, and then finally takes Kazuya’s mouth with his own.
Kazuya groans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Eijun so that he can pull him flush against his own chest. Eijun’s lips are soft beneath his, smoother than usual, the lipstick adding an extra layer of texture against Kazuya’s lips. Hot arousal skims through him as he imagines Eijun practicing putting on the lipstick, imagines Eijun running his fingers over his own lips to see what it would feel like for himself.
Eijun lets out a soft sound as he licks into Kazuya’s mouth, raking his nails through Kazuya’s hair, tilting his hips forward. Eijun kisses him slowly and sensually, like he really has been planning this all day, like he wants to drag Kazuya down into the abyss with him, wants to make Kazuya melt beneath him.
Kazuya lets Eijun drag him towards the couch. Lets Eijun push him down against the cushions, lets Eijun climb into his lap. Kazuya’s hands find the skin beneath Eijun’s shirt, running over cords of muscle and tendon, relishing in the way Eijun shifts beneath his hands. When Eijun pulls away, he tips Kazuya’s head back and looks down at him with an expression that makes Kazuya thrill, makes him want to be devoured.
There is lipstick smeared around Eijun’s lips, ruddy and tempting, and Kazuya can imagine the way it must tint his own lips, a tangible souvenir of Eijun’s touch. The thought makes Kazuya warm on the inside, attracted to the idea of being claimed, but when he tears his gaze away from Eijun’s mouth to meet his eyes, he becomes molten.
The gold of Eijun’s irises burns, dark and charred as his eyes skim over Kazuya’s face, catching on his lips. He trails his fingers over Kazuya’s jaw and thumbs over Kazuya’s lips, fingerprints catching on the lipstick Kazuya knows is there, and fuck, Eijun seems just as into the idea of leaving his mark on Kazuya as Kazuya is himself. The realization pulls a soft sound from Kazuya’s throat, makes his lips part around Eijun’s thumb.
Eijun whines when Kazuya flicks his tongue over the sensitive appendage, nibbling at his fingerprint. “Kazuya,” Eijun rasps, cupping Kazuya’s jaw with his other hand, trailing his thumb back over the tint smudging at the corner of Kazuya’s mouth, “Can I – “
“Yes,” Kazuya croaks out, not even bothering to hear what Eijun has to say. He doesn’t care. He wants whatever Eijun wants to give him right now. He’ll take it all.
“Hey,” Eijun reprimands, pouting. The way his lips pull down in a frown makes Kazuya’s heart thud with affection, the lipstick making the pout impossibly cuter. “Let me finish.”
“Eijun, you can do whatever you want,” Kazuya grants, raking his fingernails over Eijun’s shoulders, down over his ribcage, tickling him lightly. “As long as you don’t stop. If you stop, I’ll be upset.”
At this, Eijun rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop himself from smiling when Kazuya’s fingers stroke over his sides. “I should stop because you’re being rude,” he mumbles, squirming when Kazuya digs his fingers into his ribs with more intent. He grabs Kazuya’s arms and stalls their movements, looking down at Kazuya with rosy cheeks and tantalizing lips that Kazuya desperately wants back on his skin. “If you tickle me, I will tie you up, Miyuki Kazuya.”
“Oh, how threatening,” Kazuya taunts, digging his fingers into Eijun’s sides just to be a brat. Eijun lets out a shout that makes Kazuya grin, completely and irrevocably in love.
They succumb into warm laughter as Eijun wrestles Kazuya’s hands away, both fighting for dominance. However, Eijun has the upper hand given his position and the fact that Kazuya was ready to drop to his knees for Eijun as soon as he walked in the door. Eijun pins Kazuya’s hands against the couch, hovering over him, breathing heavy from his laughter. “I win,” Eijun victoriously breathes out, pleased.
Any other day, Kazuya would take this opportunity to flip Eijun over, to press him down into the couch and remind him that Kazuya is still very much able to take control here. Today, however, he only smiles smugly and says, “Are you sure about that? I’m the one with the boyfriend who spent the day fantasizing about him. I’m pretty sure I’m the winner here.”
Eijun scoffs. “Are you suggesting you don’t fantasize about me all day, Miyuki Kazuya?”
Kazuya’s mouth snaps shut, gaze darting to the side, trapped. Eijun grins knowingly and grinds his hips down against Kazuya’s, earning himself a strangled moan from Kazuya. “Like I said,” Eijun purrs, leaning down to place a sweet kiss against Kazuya’s jaw, leaving a trace of lipstick behind. “I win. Now keep your hands where they are.”
Kazuya’s competitive side rears its head at Eijun’s jibe, but he does as Eijun requests, curiously watching as Eijun’s fingers begin working at the knot of Kazuya’s tie. Eijun skims his lips over Kazuya’s skin as he works, nipping at his collarbone, dusting his mouth over the fabric of Kazuya’s shirt just to leave his marks behind, leaving Kazuya squirming.
Once Eijun removes Kazuya’s tie, he catches Kazuya’s mouth in another languid kiss, and then shifts them so he can bind Kazuya’s wrists behind his back. Kazuya’s breath stutters in his chest as the fabric brushes over his skin. Even though Kazuya’s into this, wants this, wants Eijun, he still can’t help the way his body responds to losing control of his hands. They are his two most important appendages, his lifeline that keeps him tethered on the field and off of it. It takes all of Kazuya's trust to give this control away.
After the tie is secure, Eijun stands over Kazuya. He traces his fingers along Kazuya's jaw softly, a silent thank you, and looks down at Kazuya with a smoldering, gleeful expression. It's as if Kazuya is a creature Eijun's managed to ensnare within his trap. Which, Kazuya thinks wryly, isn’t too far from the truth.
Kazuya’s fingers flex against their hold, itching to touch, but they fall slack when Eijun slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small black tube, uncapping it. Kazuya’s lips part as he watches Eijun bring the lipstick to his lips, feeling like a starving, depraved animal, absolutely enraptured by the sight. Cheeks burning, Kazuya’s gaze darts away with shameful embarrassment before he looks back, addicted to the way the wax glides over Eijun’s lips.
Eijun sets the tube down and cards his fingers back through Kazuya’s hair, drawing a delicious shiver from Kazuya. Kazuya pouts because he wants to put his hands on Eijun and he wants Eijun to kiss him again - and currently neither of those things are possible nor happening. Eijun smirks at him in return with entirely too much self-satisfaction, and Kazuya is caught between wanting to wipe that smug expression off of his face and wanting to roll in it.
“Kazuya,” Eijun teasingly lilts, popping open the first couple of buttons at the top of Kazuya’s shirt, “you’re cute when you’re frustrated.” Eijun grins like he’s won the lottery and palms at Kazuya’s erection through his pants. Kazuya bows forward, embarrassment flushing over his skin as his hips tilt upward without his consent. “But this tells me all I need to know,” Eijun taunts, teasing his fingers over the hem of Kazuya’s pants. “You’re so into this.”
Kazuya groans, feet shifting against the floor. God, isn’t that the truth.
“Someone sure is confident,” Kazuya defensively responds even though he grinds upward into Eijun’s hand with absolutely no restraint, completely taken by the power that Sawamura Eijun holds over him.
Sometimes Kazuya wonders if Eijun has always been the one with the power here.
He thinks about the way Eijun demands his attention, the way he pouts and fusses if he doesn’t get his way, if Kazuya tells him no, Eijun, I’m not catching for you right now, it’s nearly midnight. He thinks about the way his heart rattles in his ribcage when Eijun turns one of his signature sunny smiles to him, the way his stomach flips any time Eijun hits him with his open and honest affection.
Kazuya has never stood a chance.
“How could I not feel confident,” Eijun murmurs, using his free hand to continue unbuttoning Kazuya’s shirt, callouses teasing skin, “when you look at me the way you do?”
Eijun’s tone is warm and affectionate, making Kazuya’s stomach flutter with butterflies. Eijun trails his mouth over Kazuya’s chest, down his abdomen, over the dips of Kazuya’s hip bones. Kazuya is helpless but to watch, entranced at the sight of red painting his skin.
When Eijun looks back up to him and catches his gaze, Kazuya knows he’s going to regret telling Eijun that he can do whatever he wants.
Eijun pops the button of Kazuya’s jeans and dips his hand inside, taking hold of Kazuya’s throbbing erection and pulling it free. Kazuya hisses in relief, but when Eijun settles between Kazuya’s legs, lips tinted and eyes on fire, Kazuya trembles with aching anticipation.
“I wish you could see yourself,” Eijun murmurs reverently, hovering over Kazuya’s cock. “You look delicious.”
Then, red lips skim over the head of Kazuya’s cock, making Kazuya jerk and whimper at the tease. Eijun grins up at him, delighted by Kazuya’s responsiveness, and the expression makes heat dance over Kazuya’s skin, makes him want to keep that pleased expression turned his way but also wants that mouth wrapped around his cock. “Then do something about it, kitten,” Kazuya goads, rolling his hips forward, silently imploring Eijun to put his mouth on him.
Eijun lets out a soft sound, always so responsive to pet names. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Kazuya’s length, and then flicks his tongue out, teasing the sensitive ridge of the head, trailing over the delicate underside. Kazuya’s feet slide against the floor in frustration, hips bucking up as a low, growl escapes his throat, needy and impatient. “Eijun.”
Eijun lets out a sadistic chuckle, something that Kazuya is absolutely certain that he picked up from Kazuya himself, and thumbs at the precome beading at the head of Kazuya’s cock, rubbing at the slit slowly. “You’re so needy,” Eijun rasps out, tone low and gravely, making Kazuya’s toes curl. “I love it. I should wear lipstick more often.”
“No,” Kazuya emphatically says, kicking at Eijun’s thigh with his foot. Kazuya wouldn’t be able to function on a regular basis if Eijun were to torture him like this more often. “Absolutely not.”
At this, Eijun only grins wildly, and then finally, finally, takes Kazuya into his mouth.
Kazuya moans loudly, uncaring of his noise, back arching. Eijun has always been eager and enthusiastic in bed, but he is exceptionally so when it comes to anything that involves his mouth. He was a quick study, learning and memorizing all of the things that make Kazuya fall to pieces with just as much passion and determination as he exhibits when learning about baseball.
The sight of Eijun’s tinted lips around Kazuya’s cock combined with the wet heat that encompasses him is almost too much. Pleasure coils in Kazuya’s abdomen, strong and hot as Eijun pulls Kazuya towards the edge. Kazuya’s toes curl, head thrashing back and forth as he rushes towards his climax, desperately wishing his hands were free so he could grab onto the couch cushions – or, better, tug at Eijun’s hair – to ground himself.
“Fuck,” Kazuya groans, abdomen clenching, orgasm coiling in his belly. “Yes – God, Eijun – “
His orgasm trembles only a couple of seconds away when Eijun stops.
Kazuya should have seen this coming. He should have recognized it in Eijun’s eyes, the way those pretty irises have darkened, the ways his pupils have blown wide, predatory. “Eijun,” Kazuya pants, frustrated that he can’t reach out and touch. He wants to press his thumb against Eijun’s lips, smear the color over his chin, tip that mouth back down to his cock. “Brat.”
“I had a good teacher,” Eijun quips, kissing Kazuya’s thigh, leaving behind a smudge that makes Kazuya shiver.
Smirking wickedly, Eijun leans forward and wraps his lips back around the flushed head of Kazuya’s cock. He sucks gently, too softly to do anything other than drive Kazuya wild with a yearning hunger, making Kazuya feral at the sight. His groans loudly and lets his head loll backward. Heat licks over his skin, pinpricks of arousal from his denied orgasm drawing goosebumps over his arms. Below him, Eijun lets out a displeased sound, and the next thing Kazuya knows, there are fingers tugging at his shirt, pulling him forward, demanding his gaze.
“Eyes on me, Kazuya,” Eijun commands, licking at Kazuya’s cock. “I want you to watch me make you come.”
Kazuya shudders, moaning hotly at Eijun’s words. He is entirely too affected by everything that is Sawamura Eijun. He is powerless to do anything other than what Eijun demands. Eijun mercifully sinks back down on him, engulfing him in heat, and Kazuya has to stop himself from bucking up into Eijun’s throat. This time, Eijun works him with heavier intent, setting a relentless pace that charges electricity over Kazuya’s skin, makes his muscles flex with anticipation, dragging him to the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Kazuya mumbles, hips stuttering, blood pressure spiking. “You’re so good, Eijun – God – “
Eijun moans around Kazuya, the vibrations making Kazuya stumble over his breath, and when he looks down, he catches Eijun’s hand between his own legs. Somehow, he’d missed when Eijun had pulled his own neglected erection out, when he’d started palming at himself, and the sight makes heat lick across Kazuya’s flesh, hauling him under the tidal wave of pleasure.
His orgasm rips through him, rapture pulling a long, choked off sound from his chest as he spills down Eijun’s throat. Eijun moans as he works his own cock fast and hard, swallowing as best he can and popping off of Kazuya’s length with a ragged gasp. There is lipstick smeared over his chin and his cheeks are flushed with arousal. In his post-orgasm haze, all Kazuya can think is God, he’s gorgeous.
“Eijun,” Kazuya croaks out lowly, trembling from the aftershocks of his own release, “So good. So pretty,” he breathes, reveling in the way Eijun’s eyelashes flutter, in the way he pants against Kazuya’s thigh at the praise. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
Eijun shudders, responding to Kazuya’s command easily. He cries out, tucking his face against the flesh of Kazuya’s leg, smudging crimson over Kazuya’s skin as he comes. His back arches beautifully as he pants against Kazuya, cock spasming, come splattering over his fingers, and Kazuya would do nearly anything to be able to touch him right now.
“Oh,” Eijun breathes out, resting his forehead against Kazuya’s leg as he comes down from his high. “That was – “
“Eijun,” Kazuya implores, interrupting, wanting, “Untie me.”
Eijun climbs over Kazuya with shaking hands and fumbles with the tie. As soon as Kazuya’s hands are free, he wraps them around Eijun’s midsection and pulls him close, yearning for more contact. “You’re perfect,” Kazuya babbles, skimming his mouth over Eijun’s jaw. “I love you.”
Eijun hums contentedly, melting into Kazuya’s post-coital affection. Kazuya catches him in a slow, sloppy kiss and sucks at his lower lip, moaning when his tongue swipes over the lingering wax. Eijun giggles softly, settling against Kazuya’s chest, idly running his fingers through Kazuya’s hair. “You really like the lipstick.”
It’s not a question. Kazuya will probably be embarrassed about this new discovery in two hours, but right now, he is blissfully content. “You like wearing it,” he retorts.
“I like seeing you like this,” Eijun corrects, running his fingers over the kiss marks still marring Kazuya’s collarbone. “I’ll wear just about anything if you’re going to respond like this.”
Kazuya swallows at the admission, warmth blossoming in his chest. Kazuya feels as if he simultaneously holds all of the power and none at all. “Yeah, well,” he says, clearing his throat, “I hate to break it to you, but I love you no matter what you’re wearing.”
At this, Eijun's breath catches, the corners of his eyes crinkling with joy, a red-stained, smudged smile breaking across his features. Kazuya is mindlessly and hopelessly in love. “That was smooth, Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun playfully says, fiddling with the lapels of Kazuya's shirt, “I’m impressed. I guess sometimes you’ve got game off the field.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Eijun’s resulting laughter echoes throughout the apartment, and Kazuya can’t think of a sweeter sound.