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Bato was disgustingly glad to be heading home. He’d only been away for a little over a week, but apparently in the last few years, quite without realising it, he’d become a homebody. Or maybe that was being derivative – it was not so much the house or the area that he missed, but the people. His family. And in particular, Hakoda.
Kya was away again, having been home for a few nights in the middle of Bato’s business trip but having to leave again. He missed her, missed seeing her not through a screen, but they were used to going longer periods without seeing each other. Such was the nature of her job. Sokka and Katara were so busy with their hobbies and friends that he felt like he barely saw them anyway, but there was a difference between barely and not at all, a difference that he felt keenly as he disembarked from the ferry, spotting them in the crowd.
They rushed towards him, with none of the teenage reticence that they showed occasionally. He let go of his suitcase and braced, the air knocking out of him with an oof as they barrelled into him, jostling each other for space inside his arms. He wasn’t normally one for physical affection in public, but the kids (and occasionally Hakoda and Kya) were the exception.
“Missed me?” he asked, catching a glimpse of Hakoda walking leisurely up to them before he turned to look back down at the kids.
“No,” said Katara, drawing back to grin cheekily at him.
“Definitely not,” said Sokka.
“Would rather you got back on the ferry,” chimed in Hakoda, coming round to grab Bato’s suitcase. He winked at him, leaning over the kids – a forearm laid across both of their heads obnoxiously - to kiss him quickly in greeting.
He must have missed Bato then, to kiss him on the mouth in public. He normally didn’t, knowing Bato was easily embarrassed by it, but this time Bato didn’t care, not when he’d been thinking about kissing Hakoda for days. Shoving the longing down for later – much later, when he could take Hakoda to bed and not stop kissing him – Bato peeled Sokka and Katara away from his front, tucking them against his sides instead, one arm over each of their shoulders. Hakoda followed, stepping in front to lead them to the car when they reached the car park.
Folding himself into the car, Bato sank into the familiar buzz of conversation, answering about how the journey had been and listening to the others talk about the minutiae of the time he was away, the little details that didn’t seem worth mentioning in a message but were nice to share nonetheless. They all piled out when they got home, Sokka and Katara thundering upstairs and returning with overnight bags.
“The sleepover at Aang’s,” Hakoda reminded him, catching Bato’s quizzical look. “They just wanted to see you first.”
Bato remembered now; the two of them had nearly talked his ear off before he’d left on his trip, excited that their friend Zuko would finally be joining their gang for one of the regular sleepovers that rotated between their houses.
Hakoda wandered into the kitchen, hugging both of the kids goodbye on his way. “You want food yet?”
Bato had eaten lunch late, and anyway now that he knew the kids were going out he had a much better idea of what to do with his mouth than eat. “Hmm, maybe later.”
Turning to Sokka and Katara, he looked dubiously at the amount of snacks spilling out of Sokka’s bag.
“Got everything?” At least they were going to be someone else’s problem for a few days. Poor Gyatso. Though, despite his age, Aang’s guardian was just as likely to get involved in mischief as any of the kids.
Katara shouldered a bag that Bato was pretty sure contained water bending scrolls she’d been told not to take out of the house, but he decided not to push it today. “I think so. Sokka?”
“Good to go!”
“Sure you don’t want a lift?” Aang lived only a few streets away, but it didn’t hurt to check.
“No, thank you, Bato!” Sokka darted towards him in more a body-slam than a hug, dragging Katara away to the front door with him. She waved, and the door slammed behind them.
As much as he’d missed them, the moment they left Bato let out a sigh of relief. All he’d been thinking about for the past few days was getting Hakoda alone.
“Koda!” He called back into the house, turning away from the door.
“In here!”
Bato was already checking the living room before Hakoda answered, and was treated to the sight of Hakoda sprawled across the sofa, jumper riding up slightly. Walking over, he sank to sit cross-legged in front of the sofa, hand sliding under Hakoda’s jumper to rest on his stomach. It jumped beneath his hand, the slight ticklish reaction Hakoda could never hide; as Hakoda craned his neck for a kiss Bato revelled in the give of soft flesh over the flex of hard muscle, in the slightly wiry hair of Hakoda’s lower stomach.
There was no pretence with the kiss. It was filthy, Hakoda’s mouth opening under his immediately, his hand reaching up to grab the back of Bato’s neck. Bato didn’t stay sat on the floor for long, shifting to his knees blindly, still kissing Hakoda, and then to his feet enough to slide on top of Hakoda, both of them wedged on a couch too short for Hakoda, let alone Bato.
He didn’t care, one leg hanging off towards the floor and the other tucked up awkwardly beneath him so that he was half kneeling on it. It was enough that his whole weight wasn’t pressed against Hakoda, but he could still feel the full length of him spread out beneath him.
Hakoda broke the press of their mouths but seemed reluctant to let his lips leave Bato’s skin, even for a moment, instead dragging kisses against Bato’s chin, his jaw, settling against his neck to lick at the skin there. Bato groaned at the scrape of his beard. He spared a second to worry about beard burn, before deciding he didn’t care. The kids wouldn’t be back for two nights and he didn’t plan on leaving the houses tomorrow – no one would see him. Besides, seeing marks left on his skin by Hakoda did something to him, and he had very little occasion to exercise his enjoyment of that.
“Fuck,” he said as Hakoda found that one spot just under his ear. “I’ve been thinking about this for days.”
“I can tell.” Hakoda’s voice was muffled against his skin, but so close to his ear it sounded loud. Bato bit at Hakoda’s shoulder in retaliation for the comment, adjusting his hips so that he lay heavier over Hakoda’s pelvis.
“Like you’re not just as desperate.”
“Hmmm, I’ve been thinking about sucking your cock since this morning.”
Bato felt crazy, turned on and too warm and far too horny for seven in the evening. Hakoda’s hand swept under his shirt and rucked it up, a hot palm rubbing at the rangy muscles of his back, and Bato wanted the shirt gone. His skin was a little tacky with the sweat that seemed to accumulate during travel regardless of the actual temperature but Hakoda didn’t seem to mind, mouth dragging back to meet his own. Their hips were moving now and they were too old to get off like this, but as desperate as he was Bato didn’t want to have to move, instead settling into an uneven rhythm, breathing messily into each other’s mouths.
One of Bato’s hand was braced on the couch’s arm above Hakoda’s head, but with the other he gripped at Hakoda’s ribs, sliding it up and down his side. Each movement of his hand scrunched Hakoda’s jumper up under his armpit more, but Bato’s own body weight trapped the other side of it, stubbornly keeping Hakoda’s chest covered; he reached underneath it to spread his hand across Hakoda’s pec. He wanted his mouth there, wanted to bite and lick at the skin and rub his cheek against the hair of Hakoda’s armpit, but that meant moving.
Instead he rubbed at Hakoda’s nipple with his thumb, Hakoda’s mouth growing slack and distracted. Hakoda’s other hand moved to his ass, pulling Bato down tighter against him. He definitely wasn’t complaining, not with Hakoda’s fingers pressing against the seam of his jeans, curving inwards between his cheeks, not with the hardness of Hakoda’s dick against his hip, not with the friction between them that wasn’t quite enough.
Sweat was beginning to bead on Bato’s temple when Hakoda tore his mouth away, voice hoarse. “Stop, stop a second.”
He was worried for a moment, but one look at Hakoda’s face told him it wasn’t serious. “What’s wrong?”
“The fact I’m not sucking you off right now. Get off me, I can’t do it like this.”
Bato would’ve commented on his pushiness if he didn’t want Hakoda’s mouth around his dick so much. He scrambled back awkwardly, not entirely sure where Hakoda wanted him. He got his answer as Hakoda pushed past him, grabbing him by the wrist briefly to drag him in the direction of their bedroom.
“The kids might not be here but it still feels weird fucking on the couch.” Hakoda’s voice was muffled by his jumper as he pulled it off, and Bato lost himself for a moment in just looking, looking at the breadth of Hakoda’s shoulders, at the bulge of his arms as he lifted them above his head, at the lines and divots of his back muscles. At his hair ruffled and staticky from the material, left loose for once. “And I don’t even want to think about trying to get cum out of it. Besides, I want you naked. There’s no way you’re putting your bare ass on it.”
Once, when he was a far younger and less wise man, Bato had thought being in a romantic relationship with Hakoda would be a welcome break from being bossed around by him. Luckily he now knew that Hakoda was still a little shit, and also that he found it irrationally charming. So did Kya. There wasn’t a malicious bone in Hakoda’s body, although he would protect his family with everything he had, and he was never obnoxious or arrogant with the casual way he took control of situations – he was simply a natural leader. He wanted to take care of people, and that was part of the way he showed it. Sometimes – rarely – that carried over to the bedroom, but Bato didn’t feel like that was the case today. More likely Koda had spent a few hours cleaning the coach recently and was fixating.
Whatever his reasons, Bato was forcibly reminded of Hakoda’s plan by him undoing his jeans and wiggling hurriedly out of them and his underwear; the complete lack of coquettishness in the movement only made it sexier, that Hakoda knew he drove Bato crazy enough without putting on a show, that he was impatient to be naked with him. He pulled off his own clothes with as much haste, until they were both standing undressed.
He moved closer to stand behind Hakoda, curling one hand around his hip but otherwise leaving a sliver of space between them. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop touching Hakoda if he started now.
“Where do you want me?”
Hakoda shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on his shoulders. Bato smirked, dropping his head to trace the little bumps with his nose; Hakoda made no secret of his love for Bato’s voice, and he used it to full advantage. One of their favourite positions when they were all together was for Hakoda to sit leant back against Bato, Bato’s voice constant in his ear, whilst Kya rode him.
“On the bed, on your back. Leave room for me.” That meant lying half-diagonally. They had a big bed, but neither of them were short. Bato pulled himself away from Hakoda and settled onto the bed, propping himself up on a few pillows. He wanted to watch.
Why wouldn’t he when Hakoda was stood in front of him like this? Solid and stocky and lined with muscle, but also with a comfortable softness to him. Hakoda was fit but he trained for enjoyment of it, for functionality and strength over appearance. He stretched up to tie his hair back with a band from his wrist and Bato watched as a divot formed in the muscle by his collarbone, as a vein flexed on his bicep, and he wanted to do filthy things to him. Wanted to grab at the muscle in his thighs, rub his face into the bush of his pubic hair, bite at the tendon behind his knee. He’d missed a patch just above the left corner of his mouth when shaving and probably needed a shower (not that Bato could talk) and Bato loved every inch of him, from the smile lines on his face to the dark bristly hair on his toes.
Loved him more as he crawled onto the bed, flopping to his belly between Bato’s spread legs. His hands reached under Bato’s thighs, hooking up and around to settle on his lower stomach, and Bato had barely registered that sensation before Hakoda got his mouth on his dick.
It was sudden and almost too much, and exactly what Bato wanted. He arched up into it a little, reflexively, trusting Hakoda to hold him down. Hakoda’s mouth was wet around him, loose enough that Bato could feel some saliva dripping down into the hair below, and he pulled back enough to chase it with his tongue, licking a stripe upwards from between Bato’s balls to the head of his cock. Bato moaned, reaching out blindly with his hands. He was watching, watching so closely, but not at where his hands were going.
Not when Hakoda’s traps were pushed together with the position and effort of keeping Bato pinned to the bed, though he wasn’t really trying to move. (Even if he was, he knew Hakoda could hold him down if he wanted. That he had done in the past.) His ass jiggled, just a little, as he readjusted his hips against the bed, and Bato couldn’t wait for him to start pressing down harder, fucking against it as he got off sucking Bato’s cock. He watched the way Hakoda’s toes flexed against the sheets in concentration and sweat glistened in the valley of his spine.
Bato only took notice of where his own hands had landed when he felt two different types of hair under his fingers: the soft, damp hair - some of it escaping the hair-tie to stick to the skin - at the nape of Hakoda’s neck under his right hand, and the coarser, short hair of Hakoda’s forearm under his left. He ran his nails along the grooves of muscle in Hakoda’s arms, wrist to elbow and back again. He tried to time it to the bobbing of Hakoda’s head, but even the slow, steady pace he’d set was too much for Bato to maintain, not when the longer it went on the tighter Bato wound. Hakoda kept his hands on Bato’s lower stomach, focusing only on the upper half of his dick. Bato couldn’t come like this, not even with the flicks of Hakoda’s tongue against the sensitive spot where head met shaft, or the occasional brush of the smooth side of a tooth, but Hakoda knew that.
He knew that, and was waiting for Bato to ask for more.
“Koda.” Bato sounded desperate even to himself. Hakoda just hummed, the vibration making Bato grasp harder at his forearm.
“Please.”
For a long, stretched out moment, Bato thought Hakoda was going to ignore him in favour of flicking his tongue obscenely against the head of his dick, but then he pulled back enough to speak, propping his bearded chin against Bato’s thigh.
“Please, what?”
They were playing this game, then. Well, Bato had missed Hakoda, but not enough to give up on nearly forty years of competitiveness. He played to win.
Letting his fingers curl around the scruff of Hakoda’s neck, he dragged his other hand up Hakoda’s arm, across his shoulder, until he could slide two fingers into Hakoda’s mouth, keeping his gaze fixed on Hakoda’s eyes, the vivid blue of them darkened by dilated pupils.
“Please will you suck my cock again? Will you use your hand on me, your mouth on my balls?”
He savoured the noise Hakoda made around his fingers. Hakoda slid his arm out from under Bato’s hand and un-looped it from around his leg, letting him start moving his hand up and down Bato’s dick, wet from saliva and pre-cum, and pulled away from the fingers in his mouth to instead put it around Bato’s balls.
Bato groaned. Hakoda was no longer stretching it out – the intent was to get Bato off. And it wouldn’t take long. Hakoda’s hand was just the right amount of tightness around him, moving in just the right way, the catch of his calluses smoothed enough by the wetness coating Bato’s cock to be perfect, to say nothing of the heat and suction of his mouth around his sac. His mouth moved up a little to suck at the side of Bato’s shaft, right at the base, and Bato had to reach out with his left hand to spread a hand across the side of his face, feeling the heat of his ear under his palm. His right hand had slipped from Hakoda’s hair when he’d started jacking him off and was dug into the meat of his shoulder.
His orgasm was building, drawing closer and closer. He wanted Hakoda to come too.
“I’m - I’m close. You are too, aren’t you.”
Bato didn’t need to ask, not with the way Hakoda was thrusting against the bed, the way his mouth was slack and open against the side of Bato’s dick. His neck and arm must be tired by this point, with the way he was contorted, but he didn’t slow his pace. Bato’s left hand was trapped Hakoda and his own thigh, palm cradling the side of Hakoda’s head, and as Bato’s other hand spasmed around his shoulder Hakoda turned enough to lick a wet stripe across the sensitive skin of Bato’s exposed wrist.
Bato came with a strangled grunt.
He spared a second to muse on the strangeness of that being what pushed him over the edge, when Hakoda’s tongue had seconds before been rasping at his cock, but with the way Hakoda looked up at him, eyes watching him as if re-memorising his face, it had been too much.
He’d thrown his head back as he came, back arching and leg muscles tightening, and his thigh was still twitching as Hakoda’s hand gentled on his dick. He looked down, and nearly groaned at the desperate look on Hakoda’s face, at the tension held in his trembling muscles. He’d stopped moving against the bed, but his other hand had disappeared under his body, and Bato knew he’d got himself in a tight grip.
“Come here,” he slurred, pulling at any part of Hakoda that he could reach. “Want to see you get off.”
Hakoda scrambled to his knees between Bato’s still-spread legs and took himself in hand, and fuck his hand was wet with Bato’s cum. Bato felt boneless but wanted Hakoda’s skin back against him enough to muster the energy to reach out, finding Hakoda’s forearm. He shuffled forwards so that Bato could hook his legs over his spread thighs, knees tight against Bato’s hips, and planted a hand on Bato’s chest.
His arm worked furiously, jostling the both of them. Bato grasped at the tight bicep of the arm posted against his chest, his other hand running up and down Hakoda’s side, reassurance and encouragement and touching just to feel the muscles flex under his palm. A drop of sweat ran down Hakoda’s face and landed on Bato’s collarbone, running off his shoulder to join the dampness under Bato, and all he could think about was their cum mixing too, on his stomach and groin.
Hakoda’s arm buckled suddenly. He caught himself with his hand against the bed by Bato’s armpit, having slipped off of his chest. He had to stretch, the height difference between them barely leaving him room to move his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind, rutting against Bato with his head hanging low. It was nearly too much for Bato, growing sensitive now, and he tried to let Hakoda know, breathless though he was.
“Koda. Koda - ” He didn’t get to finish, Hakoda lunging towards him to crash their mouths together. It was a terrible kiss, objectively, but with Hakoda moaning his name into his mouth as he came, spurting wetly between them, Bato loved it.
Hakoda collapsed against him. He was heavy, but Bato liked the security of it, holding Hakoda closer to him. It was slightly harder to breathe, but he enjoyed the stillness. A few moments passed, Hakoda’s breathing slowing against his neck, before they moved, Hakoda drawing back to his knees between Bato’s legs. He smoothed his hands from knee to hip on the outside of Bato’s legs, trailing cum through his leg hair.
Bato grimaced. “I think we’ve proved that I missed you ridiculously, but not quite that much.”
Hakoda just grinned, leaning over for a kiss, and then clambering off the bed. He reached for the tissues on the bedside table and wiped his hand before grabbing his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans. Before Bato could protest he’d snapped a quick photo of him, spread out on the bed, covered in both of their cum.
“For Kya,” he said wolfishly, typing out a quick message. Bato’s own phone pinged from somewhere in the house, and he rolled his eyes. Hakoda could at least send it to just Kya, instead of the messages between all three of them. Although, it might be nice to see what Kya said. He’d missed her too, and it had been nearly two weeks since he’d touched her. He’d have to make sure they did something nice – or filthy – when she came home next week.
Hakoda came over with some more tissues and cleaned up the worst of the mess, wiping Bato down without embarrassment and scrunching the used tissues into Bato’s hand when he’d done.
“Go shower. I’ll sort the bed and then make you something to eat.”
“That’d be good,” Bato admitted. He’d worked up an appetite now that he’d had his fill of Hakoda. “Thank you.”
He rolled off the bed, one hand trailing across Hakoda’s stomach as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe being away from home wasn’t so bad, if this was the welcome back he got.