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It was meant to be just a way to pass time.
Prison does that to you. The dungeon with no windows had become almost like home by now. The only thing keeping Hen sane was—
"Hen," Toma moaned in Hen's lips, hands gripping the Warrior's kimono desperately, like his life depended on it. That was what Hen loved most: the desperation, the need, the way both of them could hardly keep their hands off each other whenever the metal door closed and the world grew quiet. All that existed was right here, wrapped in his arms.
"I've got you," the assurance was hushed, kisses pressed onto soft lips and hard skin. Toma couldn't feel anything there, not where the frost had cracked his skin and turned it a gnarly shade of purple and blue. And still, Hen didn't neglect it, pressing kisses to the dead skin equally.
"Touch me."
"So demanding."
It wasn't an insult. Toma was so meek, so quiet. Only then, in times like these did he perk up, talk and exist shamelessly. Hen had learned to treasure it.
"I'm serious, I need it," the Hunter outright begged, hips twitching where they sat pinned on Hen's thigh. The temptation hit him and suddenly Hen found himself squeezing soft flesh, up, up until Toma's skirt was pooling around his hips and his thighs were fully exposed.
He was staring. He knew that. Toma knew that.
"Mark me."
Who was Hen to refuse? The position changed in seconds as teeth sunk into flesh, the sweetest gasp escaping from Toma's lips as if he wasn't expecting exactly what he asked for.
"Don't use your mouth," the Hunter asked, "want your lips on mine. Just touch me..."
"You're being soft," Hen pointed out in return, "I'll get attached."
"Good," came the unpredictable reply, cut only by a moan as two fingers slipped into that tight heat Hen had grown well accustomed to. "Maybe that way you'll keep me."
Fuck, Hen could snap then and there, chest tight with emotion. He wanted to keep Toma, be the only one who saw this, touched him this way. He'd broken the Hunter in and damn deserved the reward for it.
"Hen, I—" Toma babbled, helpless against the finger-fucking he was receiving. He was always so sensitive, so responsive. His back arched beautifully and all Hen could do was softly untie the belts and fabrics that kept the Hunter's kimono together. Rough hands took the opportunity to caress every inch of skin, every inch of pale goodness.
"Not my bandages."
"Shh, I know. I said I've got you."
As much as the Warrior would have liked to reveal those peaks, squeeze the small breasts hiding under the tight bandages, he knew Toma would never forgive him. He could hold back, focus on other desires if it meant seeing that beautiful face twisted in bliss. Bliss only he could bring.
"I'm gonna cum..." the Hunter warned in a voice shaky, thighs twitching around Hen's waist. He couldn't fucking wait.
"Go on... Give me one before I fuck you." Hen replied, low and husky, just seconds before Toma cried out, head thrown back in ecstasy.
"Good boy... So good, cumming so pretty for me."
Praise came easy with Toma. All Hen ever wanted to do was praise. And Lords, the reaction it got him. Toma groaned as if overstimulated, the words alone making his core burn with need.
"I need you so badly," he breathed, changing their position once more, Hen being pushed to his back while the Hunter straddled his hips. Hen's mind short-circuited as Toma ground against him, the heat and slick making him groan as he held onto the younger man's hips, guiding his movements.
"You're so dirty, you know. Grinding against me... Can't even wait for me to undress despite already having come once." Hen chided playfully, heart swelling at the little chuckle he managed to pull out of the Hunter.
"I can't help it... I'm so empty without you..." Toma's quiet voice replied as soft hands removed Hen's kimono. Slowly, slowly until—
"Finally."
Hen had to hold back with everything in his body as Toma took a hold of him and buried him in that same wet heat from earlier, moaning something broken and full of relief. Like Hen was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
Hands grasped those narrow hips and squeezed, possessive and desperate in their own way. Hen could feel each flutter, every movement that made Toma's breath grow heavy and hot. He moved before he could bring himself to stop, and Saints, he was really going to die.
"Hen," Toma moaned out the name like a prayer, like it was his favorite word. "More, more,"
"Needy."
"Only for you."
"Fuck—"
And then Hen was pounding away, sinking into the velvet heat of Toma's cunt over and over as he drank in every shift in expression, every squirm, every breathy moan and whine that only made him want to do this forever.
"I can't take it, I can't-"
"Yes, you can."
"I'm gonna die, I can't, I- Hen!"
"You can take it. I know you can."
Hen knew he was pushing Toma's limits but he knew the Hunter liked it that way. He'd learned what signs meant what and the arch of his back meant he could take it.
"You wanted more, so I'm giving it to you."
"It's too much..."
"You wanna be good, don't you?"
"Fuck!" Toma cursed, eyes fluttering shut at the way Hen fucked him, played him like a fiddle. He damn near started crying when the Warrior's thumb brushed over his clit, ecstasy running up and down his spine like lightning.
"I wanna be good, Lords, I'll be so good, take you so well," he babbled, lost in the drag of their hips together. In the way only Hen could make him feel so perfect. "I'm gonna cum."
"Again? So soon?" The Warrior replied, knowing damn well his insistent circling of Toma's clit was certainly not helping the poor Hunter.
"Please," Toma hissed, the way he looked at Hen making the Warrior twitch inside his lover. "Please, please come with me, please, I need it, need it more than I need air—"
And he sounded like it. He really sounded like it.
"I'm there with you, baby. I've got you," Hen shushed, taking a hold of Toma's hand and interlacing their fingers. It was too intimate for two people who only fucked to pass the time. It was too soon for two people who knew each other for a few weeks. Toma only squeezed his hand in return.
In seconds, they were both falling apart, Toma having to catch himself from falling while Hen pressed up into him. The eye contact was intense, both of them just taking in the other's expression like it was the most important part of the process. And maybe it was.
When Hen pulled out, his immediate instinct was to hold his Hunter. Press kisses here, there, anywhere he could reach without letting go. Anywhere he could press his lips against skin. Toma giggled, ticklish, pushing Hen away playfully before they settled.
"Maybe you really should keep me."
How Hen wanted to...
"Maybe."