Title: Of Storm Clouds and Bite Marks
Summary: During the peak of a desolate fall storm, Satou finds room to be creative amongst the dreariest of settings by indulging in his possessive tendencies.
Fandom: Aitsu no Daihonmei
Pairing: Satou/Yoshida
Rating: NC-17 (but still not graphic enough for my liking.)
Warnings: Sex, homosexuals, biting kink, language, PWP.
Disclaimer: Suzuki Tanaka and BexBoy Magazine would have my ovaries if I made any money from writing and posting about these two doing phony (though inevitable), sexier things. So, I don't.
A/N: This is set after their highschool years and well into their domestic life together, if you could call it that. You'll notice they're very comfortable with this whole penetrative sex thing. First times are not too sexy, so I strayed from writing it (though I really, really want to). I also wrote this when I was sick, so I was doing it more for comfort than... uh, readability. It's probably ridden with mistakes and I can't even read it-it's just too cheesy! But hey, porn~! Badly written, romantic porn. OTL

Rain pattered down on the ceiling like a relentless pack of wolves, tearing at the shingles until they were stripped bare of the grime they harbored. The windows were slicked with moisture, amassing streaks and allowing raindrops to race to the bottom, collecting at the base before continuing their journey to soak into the ground and give life to the earth, though it hardly seemed that anything good could come from the pure weight of darkness that enveloped the land in result. A cold chill was settling amongst the wet earth, soon to be frosted to the grass that still held on to life despite the depressing outcome that every oncoming winter brought.

In result of the dreary atmosphere outside of the lives of most, were two people, seeking out warmth in each other to escape the cold that threatened to grip them otherwise. Their skin glided over one another's, and their breaths mingled as intimately as souls intertwined at the very hinges. It seemed impossible, improbable to press any closer every passing second, and yet they managed by some incomprehensible means. Limbs tangled, lips searched and hands explored while muscles rippled with each and every one of those movement. While being outside would mean deploring the very idea of being wet, remaining inside the thin cover of sweat was a relief from the suffocating heat that came from their actions.

It stormed outside and brought the boom of thunder, the sound of rivulets streaming down and dripping onto every noisy surface possible, but the two became deaf to such things and only selected the sounds of skin meeting skin and the throaty—even the breathy and needy—vocals to be worthy enough noise to bear with.

"Yoshida, Yoshida… Yoshida," Satou chanted amongst the symphony two human bodies were able to create, adding but another asset to the track.

The object of those desires answered, patting the head that rested on his bare collarbone, tangling in an unruly mess of dark hair that was ruffled on his own behalf, "Sa…Satou—hah—harder, now."

Satou, while on the verge of being lost but clearly more able to decipher speech that his partner, curled his hand around Yoshida's bony hip, letting his fingers press into warm, peach skin. His large hands fit perfectly around them, as if they had both been molded to each other since being created, and Satou couldn't help but feel a deep sort of self-satisfaction and surety from that alone. It was a warm feeling that rooted from his chest, gained power from the rising sound of Yoshida's voice, and spread throughout his body.

When Yoshida was finally lost to the euphoric realm of pleasure he often drifted to on nights like these, Satou found himself focusing on the pleasing feeling of Yoshida's hand massaging his scalp in a loving, yet heated manner, and smirked into the skin of Yoshida's neck. He felt a desire, an urge to sink his teeth in, to make some kind of mark that would last, but yet wouldn't raise any alarm.

Minding his teeth rather well, Satou began his artistry by soothing his partner into it with the press of his tongue. When all he received in return were keening sounds and the rhythmic pushing of hips to his own, he continued his exploration by puckering his lips around a certain spot and beginning to suck, repeating the motions of sucking and licking in tandem, lovingly stroking out each and every one of Yoshida's reactions. It was clear that Satou wouldn't receive any retaliation from the simple, innocent enough actions, so he continued without faltering even a second in between. His hands worked religiously on soothing the shaking in Yoshida's thighs, wrapped firmly around his hips, though they never stopped fully, much to his growing pleasure. They quivered as if they were cold, but Satou knew differently. This reaction was a good one, it was a proper reaction to his hips constantly jerking back and forth steadily, pleasing Yoshida in a way that knew no bounds.

As much as the feeling of Yoshida enveloping him in warmth and thrill was, it was the littlest things that topped the entire night for Satou. It was Yoshida's hands, that were unable to do anything but search endlessly for purchase, because he felt as though he were falling into a deep pit of oblivion; it was the smell of Yoshida's sweet breaths as they fanned across Satou's cheek whenever he tilted Yoshida's chin upward to glance at the moving, rapturous flexes of his jaws as they tightened and released; it was the warm affection that threatened to steal the life out of Satou's body every time those lashes fluttered open and revealed a swarming typhoon of emotions, clouded with the sheen of pleasure Satou brought upon them, that had Satou wanting more.

More important than any of that, perhaps, was the perverted sense of pleasure and ease Satou felt when looking down on the developing hickey he'd left for all to see, impossible to hide with a shirt, and probably even the thickest of scarves or the stiffest of turtlenecks.

Driven by stubbornness and embarrassment alone, Yoshida gasped, "Quit… staring…"

Amused, fond and aggravated by the interruption, Satou stared harder, smirk widening.

"Jerk…" Yoshida grunted, lifting the heavy weight of both his arms to bring his hands up, shielding his face, just wanting to bring Satou's chagrin to the surface rather than his blatant adore.

This time, to Yoshida's relief, Satou's aggravation overcame his fondness, and he yanked Yoshida's arms away. Finding no other way to go about it, he pinned them above Yoshida's head and continued his activity of simultaneously pissing Yoshida off by once again showcasing his advantage of size and strength, and indulging his hunger of wanting to see the entirety of his lover sprawled, naked and oh so very helpless.

It took a handjob and thrusting with twice the speed and ferocity to finally get Yoshida to surrender to him and for a second Satou was brought back to their days of school, where they would hide their actions on dirty, cold school floors as soon as Yoshida was finally able to give into himself. The only difference was that nothing could make Satou stop, not even Yoshida. Yoshida, with his shaking breaths, suppressed moans and beautiful, lust-clouded eyes, could not even fathom the amount of affection Satou held for him in these moments. Moments tangled up in bed sheets warm and pleasured all on their own while the rest of the world stayed depressed under the heavy fog of rain, or when Satou was able to coax Yoshida to tears by denying sexual favor to the extreme were the moments he found himself loving Yoshida all the more, because every time Yoshida, so tolerant and filled with the same sort of affection as Satou, would only be angered for a bit before allowing Satou to do it all over again.

Yoshida was greedy in his own way, however, and ever so lazy. Yoshida wasn't one to pleasure, but to be pleasured, and Satou was always willing to do just that. Leaning Yoshida over his company desk was always more satisfying than trying to conceal a blow job under it, anyhow, and Satou enjoyed the straight-forwardness of the action whenever one of his secretaries would try to court him. Yoshida was always more willing to spread his legs, much like he was right now, than to get on his knees, unzip Satou's fly and put his talented, shy tongue to use.

Having reached orgasm once already and pliant for more, Yoshida's body was twice as slick as it would have been any other day, and the sound of slapping skin was prominent between them, masking the sound of Satou's sucking. His teeth grazed Yoshida's flesh sublimely, and the sound Yoshida emitted when he gently teased the skin was torturous. His hips, having been steady before, stilled and he tried to calm his breathing again so that he wouldn't black out. Yoshida, sensing his rigidity, brought his hands to his shoulder blades and rubbed soothing patterns on his skin, relieving the muscles there and bringing warmth to wherever his palms touched. Yoshida sighed into his shoulder, trying very hard not to start moving his hips again in impatience.

"You're greedy, Yoshida," he commented, pressing forward purposefully and causing Yoshida to quiver deliciously in response.

"Don't insult me when you're inside me, jerk," Yoshida retorted, his hips shifting down reflexively to meet Satou's own.

"And what will you do if I don't?"

"I'll pull away."

"How likely is that?"

"…not very," Yoshida said begrudged, pressing his face into Satou's neck. "But if I get any more annoyed, I will."

"But I've only just found this," Satou whispered, emphasizing his point by angling his hips upward. In response, Yoshida lost the ability to breath, and very nearly clawed the skin off his back.

"Do it again," he grit out, pleading.

"But you're getting annoyed, I thought."

"Forget me, dammit! Just thrust."

"What do you want me to do, Yoshida?"

Yoshida growled, suppressed the urge to let out a long-suffering sigh in favor of his bodily needs, and did his best to stop the red from crawling up his neck and to his ears. "…me," he breathed.

"Hah? What was that?" Satou crooned, kissing Yoshida's neck tenderly.

Yoshida gave out his instructions with perfect vulgarity, and it pleased Satou to no end not because it was sexy beyond words (because it certainly was), but because of the desperate tone in Yoshida's words. Satou played his part well, moving and touching until Yoshida was so lost he could no longer articulate words. The look in his eyes suggested he was elsewhere, but the way his body flowed against his own was suggesting otherwise. Yoshida was lost in Satou's body, and his eyes betrayed his own lust, one that Satou very openly returned. By the end of it all Yoshida had stopped breathing and resorted to crying out Satou's name in a choked sob of pleasure, pulsating rapidly in his own release.

"What have you done to me," he complained later, when Satou was done cleaning them both up and the rain had stopped falling outside. "It hurts…"

"Still? I guess you are pretty small…" he replied; only lightly teasing.

Yoshida twitched in anger, but soon regretted it as his backside protested painfully, though not enough to have him bedridden and complaining. "Not that! My neck, you bit it, you asshole."

"Oh, that, well…it'll go away. You can cover it with a scarf."

"But what about the pain! Wait… no, never mind, I don't want what you'll give me."

"What will I give you, exactly?"

"Acidic hand moisturizer! I'd really like to know why I tolerate you," Yoshida complained once more, the statement more of an endearment after years of age having been added to the sentence.

"Because you love me?" Satou asked, very invested in the statement.

Having already gotten over his complex of timed love-confessions, Yoshida had no problem stating the truth, and replied with a sigh, "That's exactly why; I love you."

In response, Satou's chest clenched with affection, and he had no choice but to wrap his arms around Yoshida's waist, press his lips to his neck and enjoy the feel of Yoshida's fingers in his hair for the rest of the night.