Hey! This is my 1000th tumblr post! Might as well be smut ^^ More of the 30 day NSFW challenge for my Kanji and Naoto feels.
Day 12: Fingering
Warnings: Dreams, boy/boy lovings, pre-Naoto reveal (so “she” is referred to as “he,” which I don’t think I’ve ever written before?)
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It’s all about the details.
It’s easy to notice how sharply dressed the young man is. It’s easy to fall into those cool eyes, that raspy voice, and everything that falls in between the seductive cracks of Naoto Shirogane.
It’s the little things that get to one Kanji Tatsumi. The way he stands with one hand on his hip, the clicking of the heels of his shoes, the hair that slips out of his hat and dances in front of his eyes.
But that’s not what causes Kanji’s complete and total undoing.
It’s Naoto’s hands – small, almost delicate – and his fingers.
It’s on a particularly hot summer day when they catch Kanji’s attention. The small detective is hanging around outside the tofu shop, hands toying with the edge of his bright, yellow tie. They move slowly, curiously, sliding over the fabric in light touches that Kanji can’t get out of his head.
He certainly doesn’t mean for those hands to follow him into his dreams that night, but they do.
It feels like sweet whispers of silk caressing his skin. Those hands are thorough, always thorough, making sure they move across every inch of his body. They pay special attention to the muscles of his chest, fingers trailing along each sharp ridge, Kanji’s body trembling from each touch.
The dream changes gears in an instant and soon Kanji finds himself laying on his stomach, those fingers – those damn fingers – echoing over his back and moving lower, lower, always going lower.
In the realms of his dream all of the insecurities have melted away against his bed sheets. There’s no stuttering, no questioning, just the passions and pleasures of the small detective and the delinquent who fantasizes about him. Those fingers move across his ass, gentle, curious, and Kanji makes sure to keep his head buried against his pillow.
The pillow is more than happy to accept his cries.
The first finger that presses against him is hesitant, unsure, especially when Kanji’s body locks up in protest of the new sensation. Naoto takes his time but Kanji can hear his impatience, the detective’s breaths harsh and floating into the air around them. Naoto’s still dressed, even the hat still remains, but his clothes are wrinkled, tie crooked and body eager to enjoy the tall, naked body in front of him. But if nothing else Naoto Shirogane is a gentlemen, forcing himself to take it slow.
In. Slowly. Always so slowly. That small finger is inside of him, sitting, waiting. Soon Kanji feels the need to squirm against it, the stings of pain meaningless as his body quietly begs Naoto for something more.
Out. Naoto is pulling his finger out, only to push it back inside. Kanji’s body is losing the tension, back arching in an enticing angle that makes Naoto move his finger a tad bit fast. The rhythm is unsteady at first, new and uncertain, but soon they’re creating something that is starting to make the bed creak in a beautiful chorus.
In. Out. In and out. Kanji’s face is flushed, teeth leaving an indent in the cotton of his pillow. He’s getting into it now, so very into it, and when the second finger joins the first there’s no hesitation at all. He’s not quite sure when his hand ended up in between his own legs, when he started whining, lips parted and a hint of drool disappearing into the pillow case. He’s not quite sure when he started stroking his own terribly hard penis, when Naoto’s fingers started to slam into him and hit something that made his eyes water. He’s not quite sure when the dream decided to take such a desperately hot turn.
All he knows is that when he wakes up he can barely breathe, eyes wide and chest damp with sweat. The boxers he wears feel a little gross, sticky, and all of those fluttering insecurities hit him full force. He decides, however, that he’s much too tired to question the meaning behind such a dream, how it relates to a certain flamboyant shadow and the teasings of a certain upperclassmen. He can deal with the insecure consequences later – or never, never sounds good – because, right now, drifting back to sleep sounds like a much better alternative.