knees for speed (and other things)

Sweat rolled down his nape, Sora uncomfortably aware of the many things surrounding him. The train car rattled, and he took a shuddering breath, resisting the urge to fidget.

“Hey, Yozora?”

He received a small hum of acknowledgment. 

Sora readjusted his grip on the bicep hanging above him—his “personal hanging strap,” as Yozora liked to call it—ignoring the shifting of muscle beneath his hand as his nails dug into the leather. “Think you could, I dunno, maybe… maybe stand back a little?”

A page flipped. “It’s crowded.”

Out of habit, Sora shuffled on his feet, an action he sorely regretted two seconds later. He released his bottom lip, tasting blood. He was very, very aware of many things at that moment. “Yeah, exactly. Which is why,” Sora tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool off, “You should step back? So it’s not as crowded…?”

Another page, another hum. “I don’t mind crowding with you.”

Sora rolled his eyes. Always the romantic when it was annoyingly convenient. He glanced up, freezing when he met Yozora’s piercing stare, the man no longer focused on his book regarding animal behavior—specifically mating habits.  

His heart hammered loudly in his chest, practically seconds away from bursting out. It was amazing how much smugness someone’s gaze could hold.

“Sora,” Yozora began, slowly lowering his arm, bringing it level to Sora’s side. “I have a theory.” The book was gone, Yozora’s arm acting as a bar that Sora clung on to as the train car continued to rattle, rocking in its movements. 

He laughed nervously, nails lifting the leather from the force of his grip. “Y-Yeah? Is it,” Sora glanced at the other passengers, licking his lips. “Is it for your research?” 

Fortunately, it seemed that no one was paying them any mind, too preoccupied with keeping cool in the packed, metal tin.

Unfortunately, Sora was all too aware of everything as Yozora leaned in close, lowering his head to his level.

Warm air fanned his face, and Sora hated how Yozora was able to make peachy breath smell so damn good—irritatingly arousing if he was entirely honest. The train took a sharp turn, the car rocking, and Sora squeezed his eyes tight, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

A hand ghosted over his face, caressing his cheek. “You’re in heat.”

Sora laughed with false bravado; eyes still clamped shut. “W-Well, you know, it is pretty hot in here, so,” he swallowed, holding up his thumb. “Good jo—”

Yozora gripped his chin, tilting his head down. “Open your eyes, Sora.”

“...Your voice sounds better in the dark?”

He could hear the eye roll above the train’s movement. “Seems like your body isn’t the only thing leaking.”

Sora snapped his eyes open, “That’s not tr—!” 

Just as quickly, his mouth snapped shut. It wasn’t because of his desire not to draw any attention to them, but because he was given a very, very generous view of Yozora’s crotch area. The fabric was strained, heavy weight pressing against it. Sora’s grip on Yozora’s arm tightened, shivering as he felt slick pool generously at the apex of his thighs. 

“Sora,” Yozora said quietly, amusement laced in his voice, “You thought I wouldn’t notice you creaming yourself on my knee?” 

Sora tried to defend himself. “It’s not my fault!” he said in a stern whisper, still eyeing the bulge in front of him, noting the minute twitches in Yozora’s thigh. He tried to gather his reasons, all logical explanations. “The train kept moving and well, your knee, it was right there… and… and...”

He puffed up his chest, lifting his head to meet Yozora’s expecting gaze. “Anyone would rub against a hard knee! Especially if you’re reading animal mating nearby,” he wilted a bit, continuing, “It’s… like a hidden message, y’know?” 

Yozora blinked slowly. Then snorted. “I guess stupid does make cute.”

“Hey—!”

Sora gasped, throwing his head back and hitting the wall. Thankfully, the train had just taken a turn, so no one found the movement suspicious. Sora lifted a hand to cover his mouth, the new pressure on his groin almost agonizingly painful. Yozora pressed his knee up again, digging in between Sora's thighs, his underwear uncomfortably sticky. 

“We have time,” Yozora mumbled, moving Sora’s hand and prying apart his lips. He pushed his fingers in slowly, caressing Sora’s tongue. Sora watched the way Yozora’s chest rose slowly, how his eyes soaked up every reaction, and he knew that the man was holding back.

Slowly, Sora rocked against Yozora’s knee, a quiet cry in the back of his throat as the heat in his belly intensified, friction a sweet relief from the light teasing of before. 

“Of course,” Yozora said, pulling his fingers out with a pop, a trail of saliva following, “We could stop.” He dropped his knee, and for the first time, Sora realized that his feet were touching the ground.

Sora should have been happy that he was given his space as Yozora pulled back, the man reopening his book. He should have been relieved that there was no more light rubbing against his slit, no more numbing pressure in the hot, sweaty, and crowded train—ecstatic even!

Sora should have been a lot of things, but more than anything, he was frustrated.

Wasting no time, he gripped the front of Yozora’s shirt, leaning forward and biting a nipple through the fabric. Yozora’s body tensed, and Sora lifted his leg to hook around Yozora’s hip, pressing his crotch firmly against the strong thigh.

“There’s time,” Sora bit out, grinding the heel of his palm down against Yozora’s arousal.

“Great,” Yozora said, voice strained as he shoved Sora back against the wall, hand already cupping the back of his neck, the book falling to the floor. “We’re on the same page.”

Sora stared at the paper in his hands. Two sentences written in red stood out against the vast sea of words.

Please refrain from traveling on public transit in the future. Thank you for your cooperation.

He turned to Yozora, the edges of the paper crinkling in his grip. “This is your fault.”

Yozora flipped through his book—a miracle he had been able to find it—shrugging. “Desperation looks good on you.”

Sora sighed, sagging against the bench, staring up at the sky. A bird flew by, and he hummed, thinking aloud. “Wanna ride bikes?”

“You could ride me.”

Sora turned to him, snorting. “Dick,” he mumbled, not stopping Yozora as he entwined their hands together.

“Fair, but,” Yozora placed a kiss to his forehead, bangs tickling Sora’s cheek. “You’re the one who got caught sucking mine.”

The headbutt Yozora received was well deserved.