higuchimon | [fanfic] Digimon Adventure 02: Say My Name

Title: Say My Name
Pairing: Yamato x Daisuke/Daisuke x Yamato
Word Count: 1,047||Status: One-shot
Genre: Romance||Rated: R
Notes: This takes place an unspecified number of years in the future. You may presume Daisuke is at least eighteen.
Challenge: 2014 Advent Calendar Challenge, day #1; Diversity Writing Challenge, section D, #40: write in the romance genre; Pairing Diversity Boot Camp, prompt #31, sex
Summary: All Daisuke can say is Yamato's name. But that says all that he needs.

Yamato's tongue slowly traced its way down Daisuke's neck, pausing here and there to lick at places he knew were especially sensitive. Daisuke tried to speak, but nothing coherent seemed to want to emerge from his lips except for Yamato's name. His hands clutched at the quilt underneath him and his back arched upward as the blond's teasing fingers found another place that he'd never dreamed could be so delightful.

Daisuke wasn't very big on logical thought and never had been. At the moment, thought of any kind, logical or otherwise, had never seemed so far away. Nor did he care that much about it. He wanted nothing more than to cling to Yamato until the end of time, at least for as long as Yamato kept doing such wonderful things to him with his hands and tongue.

Yamato ran the tips of his fingers down Daisuke's sides, a devilish grin lighting his face up as Daisuke squirmed underneath him.

“Ticklish?” He'd never known that. It was quite an interesting discovery as well.

Daisuke squirmed even more, gasping for breath and for words at the same time, and only managing to gasp out Yamato's name still. He wasn't sure if he wanted to shake his head or nod or do something else altogether.

Thankfully, at least in Daisuke's scattered opinion, Yamato could figure out what was going through his head to some degree. Again he traced a line up Daisuke's bronzed skin.

“Looks like you are. I wonder what some people would give to find that out about you.”

“Y-y-yamato!” Daisuke might have only been able to say Yamato's name at the moment, but the inflection he put on the word carried plenty of meaning along with it. How could Yamato even suggest something like that?

Daisuke suspected that he wasn't serious, but still, just saying it sent a chill down his spine. This was Takeru's brother, after all, and Takeru would probably like knowing one of his weaknesses. He didn't know what Takeru would do with it, but he still didn't want the younger blond to know about it.

And that was about as far as his thoughts went before Yamato started to kiss him again, this time peppering his face with them, while still keeping him pinned to the couch with his own body.

Somewhere in the deepest recesses of Daisuke's mind, he thought that this might not be the best place. Something about parents? No, they were gone for the weekend, visiting... relatives? Friends? Someone who wasn't them. Far away. Not back for days.

Someone else could turn up, but Daisuke couldn't get his head together enough to think of who it was, and he didn't really want to right now. Not when Yamato's tongue was there and doing that, and there just wasn't anything else he could keep himself focused on.

“Yamato...” He'd never heard himself sound like that before. Not that he sat around and took notes on what he sounded like in the heat of passion, and no one else had ever really made a mention of it, at least not to him.

Yamato's teasing began to move downward yet again. He liked to go up and down on Daisuke, from face to chest to thighs, then back up again, over and over, until his boyfriend was little more than an incoherent mess of arousal. Daisuke would frequently do the same thing to him, when he was in the mood for taking charge. It was a fair enough trade for both of them.

Right now, though, Daisuke couldn't have been in charge of a light bulb, much less anything else. All he could think of was every scorching, silken, sadistic touch that Yamato rained down on him, each one cleverly and carefully placed in order to make Daisuke squeal and squirm and wiggle underneath him.

And Daisuke loved every second of it. He wanted so much more, but he couldn't articulate what he wanted, not now. Not when there was that one single word that could fall from his lips.

Oh, but he tried. He tried so very hard. “Yamato!” Please, he wanted to say, please stop teasing me and finish it, make it good, make it the way that I know you can.

He knew Yamato knew what he wanted, what he was trying to say. After all their years together, there wasn't any way that he couldn't know.

And yet Yamato still lifted his head, that far too wicked gleam in his eyes, and asked in that demonic, angelic voice of his. “Yes? Did you want something?” He paused for a moment. “Did you want me to stop?”

“Yamato!” An entirely different inflection this time, one that read something to the effect of 'if you even think about stopping, I will make tomorrow night Hell on earth for you, and don't you forget it'.

Daisuke could be very expressive when he chose to be.

Yamato chuckled at him, though Daisuke didn't find anything very funny about this. He wriggled, trying to squirm a little more, though he couldn't yet figure out which way he wanted to go. There was still the faint little thought of someone maybe coming in, but he didn't focus enough on it to figure out who that might be. How could he, when there was this delicious Yamato doing so many sinful and glorious things to him to concentrate on?

In fact, he almost thought he heard the door opening now, and … no, it was closed. He spared enough of a glance to see that. But then all of his thoughts turned completely back to Yamato as the blond moved in closer, blue eyes shimmering with desire matched by his own, and he groaned loudly as everything began to build up toward the climax.

Jun leaned on the door, breathing hard. She hadn't expected at all to come in on her brother and his boyfriend – and her ex-crush at that – making out on the living room couch. She guess she shouldn't have been surprised, but she just hadn't expected it.

She headed down the stairs, digging for her cell phone. Maybe Momoe could spare her couch tonight.

And Daisuke and Yamato were going to make certain their couch got professionally cleaned, too.

The End