Fic: One Night, Two
Jun. 27th, 2023 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: One Night, Two
Series: Death Mark
Character/pairing: Yashiki/Mashita
Rating: NSFW
Word count: 4k
Summary: In the aftermath of two rough cases and nearly dying, Mashita hooks up with the hot amnesiac. It's supposed to be a one time thing.
For once, Mashita can't let go.
Author's note:
happy pride month y'all
Well past midnight, and he couldn't sleep.
Even though he was completely exhausted, Mashita left his room. A creak on the stairs. He opened his door, and leaned against the balcony.
He'd crawled up and down some abandoned, condemned school and then gone into the murder woods filled with bees. You know, for fun.
At least his mentor could rest in peace now, that O-Shimi wasn't around anymore.
A door opened behind him. Yashiki's soft voice broke the silence of the night.
"Is something the matter?" Yashiki said.
Mashita glanced back.
"Coming out for a smoke. Figured it'd calm my nerves. It's been some couple of days," Mashita said.
He didn't wait for a response. Honestly, he expected the door to close. People didn't usually spend much time with Mashita. A night, maybe. If his prickliness and sharp tongue didn't drive them away.
.
Mashita took a long drag. If it was anybody else, Mashita might've blown the smoke in their face.
"I'm used to almost dying in what I do. Make that what I used to do. Though the private detective years haven't been too kind to me so far. And here I thought I'd spend all my day chasing down cheating spouses and be bored silly."
That and intense boredom and tedium when he got paperwork duty for being out of line. Mashita had gotten disciplined a lot back on the force. His tongue always got him in trouble, one way or another. Be it sassing his superiors, or kissing the wrong men.
And where had it led him this time? Into some strange abandoned mansion, barely escaping death and a curse. With a still-cursed man right behind him.
And the curse, the bite it didn't really matter, now did it? Not to someone like Mashita. Because in the end, past all the fucking stress of it all, it was still there. This--desire. The wanting, lust in spite of everything.
He still had the scent of death on his clothes from traipsing all over the fucking woods and abandoned haunted buildings, and he was still thinking of fucking. Some things never changed.
He glanced back, the look which had gotten him laid more times than he could count. A hint of flirtiness beneath the disdain. Some men got off on that shit. They didn't last past the night, though. They never did.
"I've seen it so many times. Hostages, people in dangerous situations...even if they're complete strangers, sometimes they end up in each other's arms. Getting that close to death and all they want to do is be held, and feel alive. It happens more than you'd think."
"I see," Yashiki said. His voice was rather husky, though Mashita couldn't tell if it was exhaustion or desire. Maybe both, he hoped.
Mashita smirked.
,
"Were you really worried, or did you hope I was out here? Were you hoping I'd get on my knees, taking your cock as deep as I could? You thinking about all the things I could do to you?"
Yashiki's lips were parted. God, he had some kissable, fuckable lips. The kind of lips made to wrap around Mashita's cock.
Even through everything, there was this low grade sexual tension between them. Pretty intense to survive a bunch of brats cockblocking, to say nothing of the monsters trying to kill them, and the horrific corpses.
"Yes, I'm that kind of man. I think you are too. If you want that, come to my room. If not, it hardly matters, now does it?" Mashita's voice was sardonic. Wry even as he offered himself to Yashiki.
"I'll be gone before long, and you'll probably never run into me again. You can pretend this whole thing was dream. Or a nightmare, if you prefer. I won't care either way."
Mashita left the railing of the stairs without another word, and went back to the room he'd taken for the night.
The door closed behind him. Mashita was tense as he smoked down to embers. His cock was so hard it pushed against the seam of the dark pants that he'd been too exhausted to change from.
He'd never think of the scent of roses the same way. They'd been cloying, rotten, even dangerous. The stronger the scent, the closer Hanahiko was.
But, that case had been broken open.
When he'd gotten back, and exhaustedly gone up these stairs, Mashita had collapsed on the bed, barely manage to even think. Only to go up onto the balcony for a smoke because he'd had damned Yashiki on his mind again.
Now that they were back in the mansion, with the curse at bay for a little while longer, he could finally focus on the joy of living that made him want to jump Yashiki's bones.
(Technically, he wanted to do that anyways.)
Of all the things to be running in his head after the days he'd had, almost dying twice in so many days, getting fucking cursed, it was some damned sullen looking middle aged man.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Mashita made bad choices because of his cock. Probably wouldn't be the last, either.
Mashita's smirk was triumphant as heard the door open behind him. The only thing Mashita said before Yashiki closed in was I knew it.
They were more tangled than the rose vines Hanahiko had left over the ruined school. His hands tangled in Yashiki's hair, and brought their mouths desperately together. Clumsy, with the clack of teeth. They were still strangers. They didn't know each other's bodies. But, in a night, they could learn enough to go by in the dark.
They kissed hard against the door, Mashita moaned against him. He could feel the thickness and the rough outline of Yashiki's hard cock pushed against him. Mashita kissed rough, with teeth. He thought Yashiki liked it, from the moan that escaped in the night.
Mashita pulled back, unable to ever let anyone have the last word. "As much as I'd like to have you screaming my name, you'll wake the children."
"In this mansion? Someone could scream and nobody could hear."
With his luck, and line of work, the scream would be from murder, and not passion. Though it'd be a ghost, not this surprisingly gentle sullen old man who was finally in his arms.
It was almost dawn. They were both so fucking exhausted, to damn old for this, but it didn't matter. Mashita smirked as he removed his coat, his shirt. Yashiki's coat was laid down on the bed, rumpled, stained and forgotten.
On the bed. Seconds waiting. Dawn coming nearer and nearer. Yashiki's hands rubbed at an old scar.
"A bullet hole. Got that from when I was on the job. I'll tell you the story one day. Not in the mood to talk much right now."
And, he knew it was a lie. They both did. Mashita would return to his life and Yashiki to his. Hopefully. If he got rid of that curse.
Not that Mashita could do much about that. He barely believed in that psychic bullshit before Hanahiko. He'd already gotten cursed twice between this whole thing, and he didn't need to dance with death a third time.
He got off the bed only to kneel before Yashiki. Mashita couldn't help but smirk, because he knew he was good at this.
And all that waiting did not disappoint. Mashita might even say it was worth it. The almost dying part. For all the solved cases yes, but the sex was just a nice bonus.
Yashiki had a pretty nice cock. Nice girth. Not massive, sort of middling with the thick heft that fit in his hands perfectly. He sucked the tip, and broke off to lick down the shaft. He liked to tease his partners, make them beg for more.
He wasn't about to see them again, so might as well leave them with a real good memory. Of that one asshole ex-cop who gave incredible head and fucked them so hard they never forgot.
Maybe if they'd have more time, he'd suck Yashiki until he came, and they'd spend all day in bed. But, neither of them had much time at all. And with Yashiki, that lack of time had an entirely different meaning.
Honestly, it was practically charity, sucking Yashiki's cock. The best he could do for a cursed man. Give him the best suck and fuck of his life, however short that was.
Mashita pulled a condom out of his wallet, and rolled it down slowly over Yashiki's cock. Yashiki's breathing increased as Mashita kept a tight grip on he base. Damn, it'd been too long since he'd had a good fuck. And Yashiki had a nice cock. He'd savor riding him.
At least, as long as two men like them, not quite so young as they once were, could handle at this hour after all they'd been through.
First, tease the bottom of the shaft. Suck the tip. Make him on the urge of begging for it. If they were alone in this mansion, and had more time, he might make Yashiki beg for it. But, there were kids in this mansion, and he wasn't about to have them learn about the facts of life this way.
Yashiki's hands tightened in his hair as Mashita took him deep in his mouth, and sucked enough to make Yashiki's fingers tighten.
Mashita pulled back, just when he could feel Yashiki's cock clench. He kept a firm grip on the base, and looked up to Yashiki. He licked his lips.
"You can come when you're inside me. I'll fuck you so tight that I'll feel you come even through the condom," Mashita said.
That was enough to get him a sharp breath. Mashita poured some lube--he always kept a little packet handy--and rubbed it over the condom. Just enough to make Yashiki's hips buck.
"Now, fuck me hard. Hard enough to make me forget the last couple of days for a while."
There was some shifting around. He got up, and reluctantly let go of Yashiki's cock. His weight made the mattress dip slightly as he climbed on.
Mashita bit back a groan as he eased himself onto Yashiki's cock, and felt himself be filled completely. He'd needed some good dick for a while. To ride so hard he couldn't even think about anything but how fucking good it felt. He'd been busy with the case, pissed off as hell after being fired from the force. Stress after fucking stress, drown it in cigarettes and alcohol.
He bucked his hips and took Yashiki as deep and hard as their bodies would allow. They were way too exhausted, and dawn was too near for a long fuck. He needed it quick and hard.
His hands spread out on Yashiki's chest. There were scars there, but if he asked, Yashiki likely wouldn't know. This handsome, strange, wry old man had quite a few mysteries to solve. And Mashita loved solving mysteries.
The bed creaked beneath them. They moved faster as daylight came through the windows. Need outweighed exhaustion.
Mashita made no sound as he came. He bit his lips. He wouldn't want to say something he'd regret in the morning.
*
He stayed a little longer. Got fucking cursed, almost ended up bee food. Didn't regret it a bit, even though the exhaustion set in. But, that was it. It was goodbye in the morning. It wasn't like Mashita wasn't used to one night stands. They didn't usually come with curses. Damn, he couldn't get over the last words Yashiki had said to him.
I'll miss you.
He'd told Yashiki to cut the crap. But even as he drove away it dug at him.
I'll miss you.
Because Mashita fucking knew, he'd miss that sullen old man too.
*
Mashita chainsmoked through enough packs to wreck his lungs. He didn't care. It was the only thing that helped.
He'd blame Yashiki, and haunt him as a ghost if he died from all this.
When he was the one being haunted right now. And not by any curse.
What the fuck was wrong with him? For the third time that hour, Mashita ran his fingers through his hair. His hair was a mess. Not the way it'd been when he rode Yashiki until they both collapsed around dawn. He didn't even let himself go in for a second time.
It was good fuck, sure. But it was still just a one-night stand. He'd had plenty of those. In fact, he had more of those than long-term relationships, because most people didn't want to put up with his bullshit. He didn't go back to one night stands. He didn't go begging and crawling back, period.
He got the fucking he needed, and got out of there.
He couldn't be so stupid as to go right back into the jaws of death. Quite literally. He'd gotten cursed twice. Once by accident on his own, but the second time he'd stayed. That was on him.
His mind kept on going back to how Yashiki had felt. The scars on his body that he'd traced with his tongue. The one's he'd never figure out, now. How near dawn they'd desperately fucked after almost dying twice. The guy didn't even know his own name, but he sure knew how to fuck.
Damn, the urge to drive right back to the mansion grew higher. To put himself right in the path of fucking spirits, ghost stories of all things. All for what? A booty call? It wasn't like he could catch feelings after only knowing some sullen old man for a couple days.
Even if they had almost died, multiple times. That had to count for something.
God, it was so ironic. Here he was haunted by that ghost guy. The one who solved cases and calmed spirits with things like broken umbrellas.
But, haunted was the only word he could use to describe it. He couldn't get the memory of Yashiki's lips from his mind. The way they'd felt in a kiss, how they'd felt about his cock. How Mashita had run his teeth down Yashiki's throat, gentle and fierce all at once.
It pissed him off how he couldn't let go. Because he always let go. He had one night stands and didn't even call them back, even if the sex was good.
He tried to push it down. It didn't fucking work. The memory of Yashiki, fighting beside him, fucking him, being with him haunted Mashita.
He'd need several drinks to get to sleep tonight.
*
A week had never seemed longer. Pathetic, that he didn't even last a month before he started investigating, and found the missing heir of the mansion looked an awful lot like the man who called himself Yashiki.
A week, and the man with no memory managed to get himself out of his trouble with trash and strangers, and a kindness towards spirits.
He'd promised to buy Yashiki a drink, and he kept that promise. There was a palatable tension between them at the bar. The way two people who'd fucked before could. The way he wanted more, even if it meant the psychic bullshit and spirits came with it.
The way that all the reasoning in the world didn't stop him from calling Yashiki the moment the curse was gone and he could come back without risking death.
And Yashiki said yes, despite it all.
Neon lights and kareoke rooms weren't his scene. A faintly smokey room, faintly nostalgic was where they ended up. Sake for two, and a mahogany bar which hadn't been wiped down in a while.
The music, some Citypop was going on behind them. Too much, too soon.
Mashita leaned in, like he was just dropping the ashes of his cigarette into the big ashtray kept on the bar. He took that chance to slip his hand down Yashiki's thigh and squeeze. Their drinks were almost finished, anyways. They weren't twenty year olds anymore; no need to drink until they swayed and passed out in the gutter.
"We should get out of here. We're too old to drink the night away anymore.Too damn old for these kinds of hangovers anymore."
Translation: I don't want to be drunk when I fuck you.
And then, lowly, "Do you remember?"
A nod. He might've lost his memory once upon a time, but Yashiki sure remembered the morning they fucked.
They didn't talk on the ride back. Mashita had taken a taxi to the bar. He hadn't intended to sleep in his own apartment if he could help it.
Only when the door of the mansion closed behind them did Mashita grab the collar of Yashiki's coat and pull him down to crush their lips together like he so wanted to.
Two night stand, then. Maybe more. Maybe he couldn't quit this man so easily. Quitting cigarettes would be easier than quitting Yashiki. And Mashita had never managed to quit smoking, not for very long.
"Glad you made it, Yashiki," Mashita said.
A kiss at the door, a kiss up the stairs, a kiss stolen, hard and rough as Yashiki pulled his shirt off. He caught him just as he had his arms caught in the shirt, still.
They barely made it to the bed. This time, Yashiki's weight was on top of him. He had to stop kissing to get the condom out. He could barely keep focus as he put it on Yashiki's cock. He wanted Yashiki inside him so fucking badly.
Fuck, Mashita wasn't a screamer. But he had to choke back a cry as Yashiki came in deep. Just like he'd wanted. Just like he'd been waiting for. Just like coming home.
*
He took a drink of coffee and stared out at the view from the mansion. Mashita didn't stay over mornings, but here he was. Coming back for seconds. More than seconds, honestly.
"What are you going to do after this?"
"Take a break," Yashiki said. He laughed, wry and soft. His hands were in his hair and Mashita envied them. He always was in a state of wanting to tangle his fingers in Yashiki's chin-length hair, whether they were fucking or not.
And that? That was dangerous. More dangerous than the damned ghosts that Yashiki was always finding. Because Mashita knew he was a pain in the ass. His relationships didn't last much longer than a night.
Mashita finished his coffee.
"I've got to get going. Call me if you need anything."
Translation: Call me if you need a fuck.
No. More than that. They'd been more than a meeting of sexual tension in a bar. They'd almost died together, multiple times. He'd come back for more, surely. He wasn't even fully sated now. Mashita could see himself staying the weekend, the week until he was moved in and they were fucking waking up together.
"I'll see you around," Mashita said.
He'd end up back here, like the mark bearers who had come to the mansion without any sense of it. Except, for him it would be the lord of the house. It didn't matter what dangers came with seeing him. Mashita knew he'd be back.
"I can't believe I'm falling for you," he muttered to himself. Only when he was out of earshot. Because he wasn't going to admit how fast he was getting feelings for his one night stand.
And if Yashiki ever figured it out, Mashita would temper it with sarcasm. What can I say, your cock is so good I keep coming back for more.
He just sat in his car and smoked for a bit. Waited for the nicotine to hit and calm his nerves. Mashita took in the view of the mansion, a place he'd see again and again, if he had his way.
If he was honest, he didn't even want to go right now.
What was it that led him out here? Mere pride?
Mashita shook his head. He couldn't believe himself. But here he was, going back. Just like he wanted to all those times. Because without a curse between him? Mashita wasn't holding back this time.
"Forget something?"
No, he hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgotten Yashiki for a damn second. That was the fucking problem.
"Let's get breakfast together. Whatever you want. Then I'll go."
He was bargaining for time. Looking for excuses to stay with this man who had perfected the art of haunting him.
"Sure," Yashiki said.
Never mind that it'd was well past breakfast and lunch now. They'd stayed in bed most of the morning, well into the afternoon. If he counted the fucks separately, he was up to probably a five night stand.
Stupid, thinking he could get a single fuck with this man and go out of his life so easily. Because something drew him back in.
Mashita knew there was no way he'd escape that easily.
It was a quick and quiet drive. Yashiki picked a western breakfast in some restaurant nearby, Mashita drank black coffee.
He could see himself here across the other side of Yashiki, days, weeks, months, even years to the future. A paper in hand, thoughts on a case shared between bites. Different restaurants, different days but it'd still be Yashiki and him.
This was supposed to be a final affirmation of life. The way hostages and people who almost died clung to each other for any sort of solace in the desperation after danger. It wasn't supposed to be--what? Falling in love with his one night stand? The man he'd almost been dragged down to hell with twice, cursed to hell and back.
Oh, he was down bad. Real bad. Bad enough to bargain for a drink, a lunch, a fucking sundae. Anything to stay a little longer.
"You could stay over, you know. It's a long drive back," Yashiki said softly. He had this soft, deep rich voice. Fucking captivating, really.
"You drive a hard bargain, Yashiki."
"Fine. Gas is expensive anyways."
He took a drag of his cigarette, and left the embers on the table.
"You know, we might work well together. Think about it."
Yashiki laughed softly.
"I can't tell if you're propositioning me for a relationship or a job," Yashiki said wryly.
"I meant the job, but--I'm not about to say no to more. Time in bed that is."
Mashita pulled at his shirt. He was a grown-ass man and he was not blushing at the thought. He was not in love, he was just a coming back for more dick.
Yashiki folded his hands. "Technically, I'm on break for now. I'll have to get back with you later."
"The other....I'm not opposed."
Mashita took a deep breath. Facing down O-shimi and running into Hanahiko was easier than this. "Neither am I."
So, it was settled. He was packing up an overnight bag. Not to move in, but to make visiting Yashiki easier.
He didn't call him his boyfriend, or lover because that would be too much. Better to call him the sullen old man who kept fucking haunting him until he couldn't let go, because that was all too true.
Series: Death Mark
Character/pairing: Yashiki/Mashita
Rating: NSFW
Word count: 4k
Summary: In the aftermath of two rough cases and nearly dying, Mashita hooks up with the hot amnesiac. It's supposed to be a one time thing.
For once, Mashita can't let go.
Author's note:
happy pride month y'all
Well past midnight, and he couldn't sleep.
Even though he was completely exhausted, Mashita left his room. A creak on the stairs. He opened his door, and leaned against the balcony.
He'd crawled up and down some abandoned, condemned school and then gone into the murder woods filled with bees. You know, for fun.
At least his mentor could rest in peace now, that O-Shimi wasn't around anymore.
A door opened behind him. Yashiki's soft voice broke the silence of the night.
"Is something the matter?" Yashiki said.
Mashita glanced back.
"Coming out for a smoke. Figured it'd calm my nerves. It's been some couple of days," Mashita said.
He didn't wait for a response. Honestly, he expected the door to close. People didn't usually spend much time with Mashita. A night, maybe. If his prickliness and sharp tongue didn't drive them away.
.
Mashita took a long drag. If it was anybody else, Mashita might've blown the smoke in their face.
"I'm used to almost dying in what I do. Make that what I used to do. Though the private detective years haven't been too kind to me so far. And here I thought I'd spend all my day chasing down cheating spouses and be bored silly."
That and intense boredom and tedium when he got paperwork duty for being out of line. Mashita had gotten disciplined a lot back on the force. His tongue always got him in trouble, one way or another. Be it sassing his superiors, or kissing the wrong men.
And where had it led him this time? Into some strange abandoned mansion, barely escaping death and a curse. With a still-cursed man right behind him.
And the curse, the bite it didn't really matter, now did it? Not to someone like Mashita. Because in the end, past all the fucking stress of it all, it was still there. This--desire. The wanting, lust in spite of everything.
He still had the scent of death on his clothes from traipsing all over the fucking woods and abandoned haunted buildings, and he was still thinking of fucking. Some things never changed.
He glanced back, the look which had gotten him laid more times than he could count. A hint of flirtiness beneath the disdain. Some men got off on that shit. They didn't last past the night, though. They never did.
"I've seen it so many times. Hostages, people in dangerous situations...even if they're complete strangers, sometimes they end up in each other's arms. Getting that close to death and all they want to do is be held, and feel alive. It happens more than you'd think."
"I see," Yashiki said. His voice was rather husky, though Mashita couldn't tell if it was exhaustion or desire. Maybe both, he hoped.
Mashita smirked.
,
"Were you really worried, or did you hope I was out here? Were you hoping I'd get on my knees, taking your cock as deep as I could? You thinking about all the things I could do to you?"
Yashiki's lips were parted. God, he had some kissable, fuckable lips. The kind of lips made to wrap around Mashita's cock.
Even through everything, there was this low grade sexual tension between them. Pretty intense to survive a bunch of brats cockblocking, to say nothing of the monsters trying to kill them, and the horrific corpses.
"Yes, I'm that kind of man. I think you are too. If you want that, come to my room. If not, it hardly matters, now does it?" Mashita's voice was sardonic. Wry even as he offered himself to Yashiki.
"I'll be gone before long, and you'll probably never run into me again. You can pretend this whole thing was dream. Or a nightmare, if you prefer. I won't care either way."
Mashita left the railing of the stairs without another word, and went back to the room he'd taken for the night.
The door closed behind him. Mashita was tense as he smoked down to embers. His cock was so hard it pushed against the seam of the dark pants that he'd been too exhausted to change from.
He'd never think of the scent of roses the same way. They'd been cloying, rotten, even dangerous. The stronger the scent, the closer Hanahiko was.
But, that case had been broken open.
When he'd gotten back, and exhaustedly gone up these stairs, Mashita had collapsed on the bed, barely manage to even think. Only to go up onto the balcony for a smoke because he'd had damned Yashiki on his mind again.
Now that they were back in the mansion, with the curse at bay for a little while longer, he could finally focus on the joy of living that made him want to jump Yashiki's bones.
(Technically, he wanted to do that anyways.)
Of all the things to be running in his head after the days he'd had, almost dying twice in so many days, getting fucking cursed, it was some damned sullen looking middle aged man.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Mashita made bad choices because of his cock. Probably wouldn't be the last, either.
Mashita's smirk was triumphant as heard the door open behind him. The only thing Mashita said before Yashiki closed in was I knew it.
They were more tangled than the rose vines Hanahiko had left over the ruined school. His hands tangled in Yashiki's hair, and brought their mouths desperately together. Clumsy, with the clack of teeth. They were still strangers. They didn't know each other's bodies. But, in a night, they could learn enough to go by in the dark.
They kissed hard against the door, Mashita moaned against him. He could feel the thickness and the rough outline of Yashiki's hard cock pushed against him. Mashita kissed rough, with teeth. He thought Yashiki liked it, from the moan that escaped in the night.
Mashita pulled back, unable to ever let anyone have the last word. "As much as I'd like to have you screaming my name, you'll wake the children."
"In this mansion? Someone could scream and nobody could hear."
With his luck, and line of work, the scream would be from murder, and not passion. Though it'd be a ghost, not this surprisingly gentle sullen old man who was finally in his arms.
It was almost dawn. They were both so fucking exhausted, to damn old for this, but it didn't matter. Mashita smirked as he removed his coat, his shirt. Yashiki's coat was laid down on the bed, rumpled, stained and forgotten.
On the bed. Seconds waiting. Dawn coming nearer and nearer. Yashiki's hands rubbed at an old scar.
"A bullet hole. Got that from when I was on the job. I'll tell you the story one day. Not in the mood to talk much right now."
And, he knew it was a lie. They both did. Mashita would return to his life and Yashiki to his. Hopefully. If he got rid of that curse.
Not that Mashita could do much about that. He barely believed in that psychic bullshit before Hanahiko. He'd already gotten cursed twice between this whole thing, and he didn't need to dance with death a third time.
He got off the bed only to kneel before Yashiki. Mashita couldn't help but smirk, because he knew he was good at this.
And all that waiting did not disappoint. Mashita might even say it was worth it. The almost dying part. For all the solved cases yes, but the sex was just a nice bonus.
Yashiki had a pretty nice cock. Nice girth. Not massive, sort of middling with the thick heft that fit in his hands perfectly. He sucked the tip, and broke off to lick down the shaft. He liked to tease his partners, make them beg for more.
He wasn't about to see them again, so might as well leave them with a real good memory. Of that one asshole ex-cop who gave incredible head and fucked them so hard they never forgot.
Maybe if they'd have more time, he'd suck Yashiki until he came, and they'd spend all day in bed. But, neither of them had much time at all. And with Yashiki, that lack of time had an entirely different meaning.
Honestly, it was practically charity, sucking Yashiki's cock. The best he could do for a cursed man. Give him the best suck and fuck of his life, however short that was.
Mashita pulled a condom out of his wallet, and rolled it down slowly over Yashiki's cock. Yashiki's breathing increased as Mashita kept a tight grip on he base. Damn, it'd been too long since he'd had a good fuck. And Yashiki had a nice cock. He'd savor riding him.
At least, as long as two men like them, not quite so young as they once were, could handle at this hour after all they'd been through.
First, tease the bottom of the shaft. Suck the tip. Make him on the urge of begging for it. If they were alone in this mansion, and had more time, he might make Yashiki beg for it. But, there were kids in this mansion, and he wasn't about to have them learn about the facts of life this way.
Yashiki's hands tightened in his hair as Mashita took him deep in his mouth, and sucked enough to make Yashiki's fingers tighten.
Mashita pulled back, just when he could feel Yashiki's cock clench. He kept a firm grip on the base, and looked up to Yashiki. He licked his lips.
"You can come when you're inside me. I'll fuck you so tight that I'll feel you come even through the condom," Mashita said.
That was enough to get him a sharp breath. Mashita poured some lube--he always kept a little packet handy--and rubbed it over the condom. Just enough to make Yashiki's hips buck.
"Now, fuck me hard. Hard enough to make me forget the last couple of days for a while."
There was some shifting around. He got up, and reluctantly let go of Yashiki's cock. His weight made the mattress dip slightly as he climbed on.
Mashita bit back a groan as he eased himself onto Yashiki's cock, and felt himself be filled completely. He'd needed some good dick for a while. To ride so hard he couldn't even think about anything but how fucking good it felt. He'd been busy with the case, pissed off as hell after being fired from the force. Stress after fucking stress, drown it in cigarettes and alcohol.
He bucked his hips and took Yashiki as deep and hard as their bodies would allow. They were way too exhausted, and dawn was too near for a long fuck. He needed it quick and hard.
His hands spread out on Yashiki's chest. There were scars there, but if he asked, Yashiki likely wouldn't know. This handsome, strange, wry old man had quite a few mysteries to solve. And Mashita loved solving mysteries.
The bed creaked beneath them. They moved faster as daylight came through the windows. Need outweighed exhaustion.
Mashita made no sound as he came. He bit his lips. He wouldn't want to say something he'd regret in the morning.
*
He stayed a little longer. Got fucking cursed, almost ended up bee food. Didn't regret it a bit, even though the exhaustion set in. But, that was it. It was goodbye in the morning. It wasn't like Mashita wasn't used to one night stands. They didn't usually come with curses. Damn, he couldn't get over the last words Yashiki had said to him.
I'll miss you.
He'd told Yashiki to cut the crap. But even as he drove away it dug at him.
I'll miss you.
Because Mashita fucking knew, he'd miss that sullen old man too.
*
Mashita chainsmoked through enough packs to wreck his lungs. He didn't care. It was the only thing that helped.
He'd blame Yashiki, and haunt him as a ghost if he died from all this.
When he was the one being haunted right now. And not by any curse.
What the fuck was wrong with him? For the third time that hour, Mashita ran his fingers through his hair. His hair was a mess. Not the way it'd been when he rode Yashiki until they both collapsed around dawn. He didn't even let himself go in for a second time.
It was good fuck, sure. But it was still just a one-night stand. He'd had plenty of those. In fact, he had more of those than long-term relationships, because most people didn't want to put up with his bullshit. He didn't go back to one night stands. He didn't go begging and crawling back, period.
He got the fucking he needed, and got out of there.
He couldn't be so stupid as to go right back into the jaws of death. Quite literally. He'd gotten cursed twice. Once by accident on his own, but the second time he'd stayed. That was on him.
His mind kept on going back to how Yashiki had felt. The scars on his body that he'd traced with his tongue. The one's he'd never figure out, now. How near dawn they'd desperately fucked after almost dying twice. The guy didn't even know his own name, but he sure knew how to fuck.
Damn, the urge to drive right back to the mansion grew higher. To put himself right in the path of fucking spirits, ghost stories of all things. All for what? A booty call? It wasn't like he could catch feelings after only knowing some sullen old man for a couple days.
Even if they had almost died, multiple times. That had to count for something.
God, it was so ironic. Here he was haunted by that ghost guy. The one who solved cases and calmed spirits with things like broken umbrellas.
But, haunted was the only word he could use to describe it. He couldn't get the memory of Yashiki's lips from his mind. The way they'd felt in a kiss, how they'd felt about his cock. How Mashita had run his teeth down Yashiki's throat, gentle and fierce all at once.
It pissed him off how he couldn't let go. Because he always let go. He had one night stands and didn't even call them back, even if the sex was good.
He tried to push it down. It didn't fucking work. The memory of Yashiki, fighting beside him, fucking him, being with him haunted Mashita.
He'd need several drinks to get to sleep tonight.
*
A week had never seemed longer. Pathetic, that he didn't even last a month before he started investigating, and found the missing heir of the mansion looked an awful lot like the man who called himself Yashiki.
A week, and the man with no memory managed to get himself out of his trouble with trash and strangers, and a kindness towards spirits.
He'd promised to buy Yashiki a drink, and he kept that promise. There was a palatable tension between them at the bar. The way two people who'd fucked before could. The way he wanted more, even if it meant the psychic bullshit and spirits came with it.
The way that all the reasoning in the world didn't stop him from calling Yashiki the moment the curse was gone and he could come back without risking death.
And Yashiki said yes, despite it all.
Neon lights and kareoke rooms weren't his scene. A faintly smokey room, faintly nostalgic was where they ended up. Sake for two, and a mahogany bar which hadn't been wiped down in a while.
The music, some Citypop was going on behind them. Too much, too soon.
Mashita leaned in, like he was just dropping the ashes of his cigarette into the big ashtray kept on the bar. He took that chance to slip his hand down Yashiki's thigh and squeeze. Their drinks were almost finished, anyways. They weren't twenty year olds anymore; no need to drink until they swayed and passed out in the gutter.
"We should get out of here. We're too old to drink the night away anymore.Too damn old for these kinds of hangovers anymore."
Translation: I don't want to be drunk when I fuck you.
And then, lowly, "Do you remember?"
A nod. He might've lost his memory once upon a time, but Yashiki sure remembered the morning they fucked.
They didn't talk on the ride back. Mashita had taken a taxi to the bar. He hadn't intended to sleep in his own apartment if he could help it.
Only when the door of the mansion closed behind them did Mashita grab the collar of Yashiki's coat and pull him down to crush their lips together like he so wanted to.
Two night stand, then. Maybe more. Maybe he couldn't quit this man so easily. Quitting cigarettes would be easier than quitting Yashiki. And Mashita had never managed to quit smoking, not for very long.
"Glad you made it, Yashiki," Mashita said.
A kiss at the door, a kiss up the stairs, a kiss stolen, hard and rough as Yashiki pulled his shirt off. He caught him just as he had his arms caught in the shirt, still.
They barely made it to the bed. This time, Yashiki's weight was on top of him. He had to stop kissing to get the condom out. He could barely keep focus as he put it on Yashiki's cock. He wanted Yashiki inside him so fucking badly.
Fuck, Mashita wasn't a screamer. But he had to choke back a cry as Yashiki came in deep. Just like he'd wanted. Just like he'd been waiting for. Just like coming home.
*
He took a drink of coffee and stared out at the view from the mansion. Mashita didn't stay over mornings, but here he was. Coming back for seconds. More than seconds, honestly.
"What are you going to do after this?"
"Take a break," Yashiki said. He laughed, wry and soft. His hands were in his hair and Mashita envied them. He always was in a state of wanting to tangle his fingers in Yashiki's chin-length hair, whether they were fucking or not.
And that? That was dangerous. More dangerous than the damned ghosts that Yashiki was always finding. Because Mashita knew he was a pain in the ass. His relationships didn't last much longer than a night.
Mashita finished his coffee.
"I've got to get going. Call me if you need anything."
Translation: Call me if you need a fuck.
No. More than that. They'd been more than a meeting of sexual tension in a bar. They'd almost died together, multiple times. He'd come back for more, surely. He wasn't even fully sated now. Mashita could see himself staying the weekend, the week until he was moved in and they were fucking waking up together.
"I'll see you around," Mashita said.
He'd end up back here, like the mark bearers who had come to the mansion without any sense of it. Except, for him it would be the lord of the house. It didn't matter what dangers came with seeing him. Mashita knew he'd be back.
"I can't believe I'm falling for you," he muttered to himself. Only when he was out of earshot. Because he wasn't going to admit how fast he was getting feelings for his one night stand.
And if Yashiki ever figured it out, Mashita would temper it with sarcasm. What can I say, your cock is so good I keep coming back for more.
He just sat in his car and smoked for a bit. Waited for the nicotine to hit and calm his nerves. Mashita took in the view of the mansion, a place he'd see again and again, if he had his way.
If he was honest, he didn't even want to go right now.
What was it that led him out here? Mere pride?
Mashita shook his head. He couldn't believe himself. But here he was, going back. Just like he wanted to all those times. Because without a curse between him? Mashita wasn't holding back this time.
"Forget something?"
No, he hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgotten Yashiki for a damn second. That was the fucking problem.
"Let's get breakfast together. Whatever you want. Then I'll go."
He was bargaining for time. Looking for excuses to stay with this man who had perfected the art of haunting him.
"Sure," Yashiki said.
Never mind that it'd was well past breakfast and lunch now. They'd stayed in bed most of the morning, well into the afternoon. If he counted the fucks separately, he was up to probably a five night stand.
Stupid, thinking he could get a single fuck with this man and go out of his life so easily. Because something drew him back in.
Mashita knew there was no way he'd escape that easily.
It was a quick and quiet drive. Yashiki picked a western breakfast in some restaurant nearby, Mashita drank black coffee.
He could see himself here across the other side of Yashiki, days, weeks, months, even years to the future. A paper in hand, thoughts on a case shared between bites. Different restaurants, different days but it'd still be Yashiki and him.
This was supposed to be a final affirmation of life. The way hostages and people who almost died clung to each other for any sort of solace in the desperation after danger. It wasn't supposed to be--what? Falling in love with his one night stand? The man he'd almost been dragged down to hell with twice, cursed to hell and back.
Oh, he was down bad. Real bad. Bad enough to bargain for a drink, a lunch, a fucking sundae. Anything to stay a little longer.
"You could stay over, you know. It's a long drive back," Yashiki said softly. He had this soft, deep rich voice. Fucking captivating, really.
"You drive a hard bargain, Yashiki."
"Fine. Gas is expensive anyways."
He took a drag of his cigarette, and left the embers on the table.
"You know, we might work well together. Think about it."
Yashiki laughed softly.
"I can't tell if you're propositioning me for a relationship or a job," Yashiki said wryly.
"I meant the job, but--I'm not about to say no to more. Time in bed that is."
Mashita pulled at his shirt. He was a grown-ass man and he was not blushing at the thought. He was not in love, he was just a coming back for more dick.
Yashiki folded his hands. "Technically, I'm on break for now. I'll have to get back with you later."
"The other....I'm not opposed."
Mashita took a deep breath. Facing down O-shimi and running into Hanahiko was easier than this. "Neither am I."
So, it was settled. He was packing up an overnight bag. Not to move in, but to make visiting Yashiki easier.
He didn't call him his boyfriend, or lover because that would be too much. Better to call him the sullen old man who kept fucking haunting him until he couldn't let go, because that was all too true.
