pairing: Urie/Mutsuki
warnings: NSFW, pwp.
summary: Mutsuki’s trying to read, but Urie’s got other ideas.

“Urie,” Mutsuki mumbled into his book. The words were becoming increasingly hard to focus on. “I’m almost done with this.”

Really. Just half a chapter left and he’d be done with his book. But if Urie was one thing, he was stubborn. And insistent when he wanted his way. 

Well, two could play at that, Mutsuki thought, pressing his face closer to the book. As if the closer he got to it, the easier it’d be to soak in the words. But all it served to do was hide his face.

Mutsuki was foolish to think he’d get alone time out in the living room. Mostly because he thought Urie wouldn’t do anything out there, not in an area where it had the most traffic. Sure, Sasaki and Shirazu were out, but Saiko was in her room. She could come out at any moment and see them.

There was no reason for Mutsuki to think that Urie would go from kissing Mutsuki’s neck (clearly wanting attention, but unable to get any because Mutsuki just wanted to finish his book. And no, Urie, there’s not enough room on the arm chair for us both. Please, let me finish this and then we can do whatever you want) to, well…

And at first, Mutsuki thought things were settled because Urie was silent. 

But he should have known silence didn’t mean anything when it came to Urie.

Cold hands touched his thigh. Mutsuki squeaked and swatted away wandering hands. He should’ve worn something else other than loose shorts. But he was doing laundry and they were the next most comfortable thing to sweats.

“Urie, can you please just,” Mutsuki drew his legs closer to himself in an effort to get them away from Urie’s hands, but gloved fingers traced up his foot and ankles, a small tingle drawing goose bumps along flesh, “wait?”

“(I’ve waited long enough.)”

“Huh?” Mutsuki lifted his book so he could glance at Urie from beneath it. Give it to his stoic squadmate to have an unreadable expression. Mutsuki pursed his lips, waited for Urie to do something else, but when he didn’t budge and continued to sit on his knees, Mutsuki gave him one last suspicious look before bringing his book back to his face.

He managed to read two words before his thighs were pried apart and a face shoved itself between his legs.

What happened next wasn’t his fault. If Urie hadn’t just gone and shoved his face there, then Mutsuki wouldn’t have yelped, nor would he have reflexively smacked Urie’s head with the book. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Mutsuki stammered, feeling terribly flustered yet indignant because Urie dared to have a sour look on his face like this was all Mutsuki’s fault. “If you’d just wait…”

“You can keep reading,” Urie said, voice low, and if Mutsuki didn’t know Urie better, he’d think he was sulking. “Just don’t hit me again,” he continued, suddenly nipping the inside of Mutsuki’s thigh (”Ow!”), “and I’ll help myself.”

“What does that mean?”

“Read to me.”

Mutsuki furrowed his brows. “But… you wouldn’t know what’s going on.”

“That’s fine,” Urie drew circles on Mutsuki’s knee. Was Mutsuki the only one who thought this position was awkward? With Urie sitting on the floor, on his knees while Mutsuki had one leg drawn up and the other hung loosely over Urie’s shoulder? “I want you to read to me.”

He should’ve been a little more suspicious. But it sounded innocent enough. But that devilish gleam in his eyes should’ve set off warning bells. And it kind of did except Mutsuki chose to ignore them. Which proved to be his undoing.

“Okay.” He found where he left off, cleared his throat, and read aloud: “There were still many things to consider, many things left unsaid. But after everything they’d been through, every worry, every thought, every unsaid word didn’t seem to mat–” Mutsuki stuttered on his words. Leather-clad fingers rubbed his inner thighs. He tried to squeeze them closed, but Urie’s shoulders and arms prevented that, “matter.”

It occurred to him that he could stop reading. For one thing, it was embarrassing reading aloud one of his guilty pleasures: a romance novel. For another, Urie was clearly trying to rile him up.

“W-well, that wasn’t all true,” Mutsuki continued, gulping as his shorts were pushed further up his thighs, “There was still one thing that Lena could say. The only thing there was to…” Thumbs pressed into flesh, right where the lines of Mutsuki’s panties and thighs met. They moved in circular movements as Urie’s other fingers slipped beneath the flimsy band of Mutsuki’s panties, touching waist and stomach as muscles fluttered, “to, um. To say.”

“And what did Lena say?” Urie asked, his voice a quiet drawl. He didn’t sound interested in the story or what this Lena character had to say. His eyes were focused on tan thighs and the legs spread out in front of him; on the lewd view of shorts bunched high, of the hem so loose and wide it gave Urie a teasing view of the white panties beneath them.

His thumbs nudged lower, closer to the center, where a sweet, musky scent drifted from. He’d always had a good sense of smell. And there, in that place, it drew his attention the most. It took every bit of his willpower not to bury his face there again and inhale. Soon. Soon he would.

“Um. She. Lena…” Mutsuki realized he wasn’t looking at his book. It trembled in his hands. Or his hands trembled as he lifted it back up. Or his whole body trembled or the whole world was trembling. He couldn’t tell.

“Hmm?” Urie hummed.

Hummed. Urie. Oh that was unfair, Mutsuki thought. A lot of things were unfair. 

“Lena squeezed Nate’s hand. She’d spent so long telling herself it wasn’t a good time. It was never a good time,” Mutsuki hurried, his voice breathless because Urie’s thumbs were rubbing a less innocent spot. Not that they were ever rubbing an innocent spot to begin with. But now they were beneath his panties, rubbing the folds of his, you know. It didn’t matter how many times he’d been touched there by Urie, just the fact that Urie was touching his pussy (any part of it) made his face and neck red.

“N-Now wasn’t a good time either. They were tired and dirty from their battle. The blood on them was still…still…” Mutsuki slumped back against the arm chair, his face pressed close to the book, “W-wET!”

He bit his lip, his voice involuntarily raising as Urie slipped a thumb between folds. That little contact against his clit sent a jolt through Mutsuki’s body.

“Wet,” Urie agreed, much to Mutsuki’s embarrassment.

“’C-c’mon,’” Mutsuki moaned, unsure if he was saying it himself or he was quoting the book. He had to give it to himself though. He hadn’t broken down just yet with Urie rubbing his clit with one thumb, while the other teased his entrance. Or he thought he was doing pretty good. But a heel was digging hard into Urie’s back and his hands were just about ready to tear the book apart.

He didn’t dare look away from the book though. If he looked at Urie all of his resolve would crumble… “Lena guided Nate away from the others, taking him somewhere where they could be a…lone.”

It took Mutsuki a moment to realize there was a tongue on his thigh. That Urie was sucking his skin there and nipping at it. He whimpered.

“Lena opened her mouth to say some…some…Mm,” His gaze crossed until he was seeing double. The thumbs on him stopped moving. The mouth on his legs didn’t. They moved up and up, closer and closer, as Urie hooked fingers through panties and tugged them aside and all Mutsuki felt at first was cool air against his heated pussy. 

“She told Nate… that…”

Mutsuki’s gaze focused for a split second. Just long enough for him to think he composed himself. Until Urie slipped his tongue - hot and cool and wet - against Mutsuki’s clit and he was done.

He couldn’t be bothered to think where the book fell to after that. He couldn’t be bothered to worry about what Lena wanted to say to Nate, or that someone (Saiko) could walk into the living room and see them. He couldn’t be bothered to tell Urie to stop, because Mutsuki couldn’t tell him to stop now. Not when his tongue was doing such wonderful things.

And should have kept doing wonderful things. But those wonderful things only lasted for three seconds before Urie let Mutsuki’s panties slap back into place. 

“Wh-wha,” Mutsuki started to protest, gaze blurry.

“(I need to smell you).” Only, Mutsuki didn’t hear that. He became aware of Urie’s nose nudging against his panties, of the deep inhale he took. It was only then that Mutsuki’s earlier embarrassment returned as he tried to push Urie’s head away.

“Urie!”

He thought he heard Urie mumble so good. But that couldn’t be right. He dug his fingers into Urie’s hair with the intention of pulling him away. 

Pulling turned to tugging. Which turned into clinging because Urie was eating him out through his underwear.

The material was thin, so thin. And so drenched. From Mutsuki or from Urie’s saliva, or probably a mixture of both. Because it was the next best thing to having Urie’s tongue directly on him. So hot and wet as teeth scraped ever so gently. Just a little tease, just enough to drive Mutsuki wild.

He could feel Urie’s jaw working. Lapping Mutsuki up like he was water, face buried so close Mutsuki felt horrified. That horror, like every other fleeting thought, was just that: fleeting. He finally caught Urie’s gaze and remembered all of those ghouls he’d seen. The hunger in their eyes.

And the sounds. Oh the sounds. The squelching in his underwear. Urie’s throaty groan. Mutsuki’s mantra of Urie’s name. The creak of chair as Urie pressed him deeper into it, as Mutsuki clung to the arms, awkwardly slouched with half of his body hanging over the edge, legs draped over Urie’s shoulders.

His nails dug into cushion as Urie did a rubbing motion with his tongue. The wet fabric tickled his clit, and if Mutsuki was being honest with himself, it excited him more than usual. It made him spread his legs, made him lift his hips with need, made him want more and more as every bit of rationality became unraveled.

Urie’s hands gripped Mutsuki’s waist, keeping him firmly in place. So no matter how much he wanted to toss, to move, he couldn’t. 

Every part of Mutsuki’s body became tight and hot. He didn’t think he’d get off like that, with Urie’s tongue licking him through his panties, but he could feel the telltale signs of an orgasm building up inside of him. It wasn’t slow to come, either. It hit him just as Urie’s tongue jabbed through the fabric, as his gloved fingers pressed tight into Mutsuki’s sides, holding him down so he couldn’t buck along with his orgasm.

So that when it came, Mutsuki cried, loud and sharp, and his thighs squeezed either side of Urie’s head and every lick after that was too much. He whined, tried to get away, didn’t want to feel the oversensitiveness of an aftershock, but Urie’s grip was firm and his tongue was insistent.

And only then did he tug aside the panties so Mutsuki’s oversensitive clit could feel every stroke of tongue. At first he protested. He tugged at Urie’s hair, dug his heels into Urie’s shoulder blades. But eventually his body adjusted and sagged into the chair, as warmth and languidness took over and his legs fell open.

“Enough,” Mutsuki murmured.

“…” Urie lifted his head, licking away at his lips. “That was a good book.”

The look Mutsuki gave him was priceless. “You didn’t even listen!”

Urie had listened. To the sound of Mutsuki’s voice. He loved the sound of his voice, but he didn’t say that out loud. “Let’s finish in the ro–”

The sound of keys jingling and being inserted into the front door was as shattering as a gunshot. The speed and strength at which Mutsuki fixed his shorts and kicked Urie away was impressive, needless to say.

Sasaki and Shirazu were confused when they stepped in to find a disgruntled Urie laying on the floor and Mutsuki’s face buried behind a book.

“Uh… did we miss much?” Shirazu asked, balancing the bag of groceries in his arms.

“Tch,” Urie’s teeth clicked. “(Next time stay gone forever.)”

“Hey, Mucchan,” Sasaki called, already in the kitchen to unload the groceries, “your book’s upside down.”

From his view on the ground, Urie could see Mutsuki’s red ears peeking from either side of his book.

end.