nealuchi | primary sources

Title: primary sources
Fandom: Bungou to Alchemist
Character(s): Atsushi
Pairing(s): Atsushi/Atsushi
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 834
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Atsushi receives a letter from his other half with unusual contents.
Notes:

The Atsushis exchange notes frequently now.

It was an easy habit to fall into, once they started. The outer half writes long letters that he pours all his fears and anxieties into, short poems that he never believes are truly worthy of his other half, and simple notes of ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’.

The other’s responses are short without fail. He is a man of few words and fewer niceties. If his reply contains more than one or two sentences, Atsushi considers that a rare treasure.

So to find himself holding an actual letter of significant length has Atsushi’s heart pounding before he even reads a single word.

With letter in hand, he settles into bed. It’s late in the evening, and he’d been thinking of retiring for the night anyway. The warm feeling he gets after reading a note is certain to lull him to sleep better than any lullaby.

I don’t wish we were separate, it reads. Wishing is a waste of time, and we were meant to be like this. Together.

But I still want to touch you.

The fond smile that had been growing on Atsushi’s face freezes as he reads that sentence again. Both of them have neat handwriting: he read it correctly.

I would kiss you first, until you begged me to do more. I would bite your throat and leave marks that would last for days, so everyone would understand that you belong to me. You never notice the way people look at you, like you were something they could have, but I do. I would mark you as mine over and over again.

Atsushi’s cheeks flush red. He no longer feels even a bit tired.

I know every sensitive spot on your chest, every place that makes you moan. This time I would make you moan for me.

He moans softly, even though no one is touching him now. One hand is clutching the letter, and the other slips underneath his shirt to rub against those spots. He doesn’t need to be told which ones.

You have no idea how good you’d look underneath me. How good you’d sound gasping my name. How impossible it is to resist you.

I know that you think of me when you touch yourself. Muffling your voice in a pillow won’t hide it from me. You imagine it’s me stroking you with our hand. You have no idea how often I’ve imagined the same thing.

Atsushi bites his lip. His hand slides lower, clumsily pushing his pants and underwear out of the way to take his cock in hand. He’s already painfully hard, and he’s barely done anything.

Do you want it fast or slow tonight? No, you don’t need to answer that, I can tell you’re desperate for me now. Going slowly would just be torment. You want something fast and hard, don’t you?

He does, badly. He strokes himself as quickly as he dares, a trickle of moans escaping his lips. He has neighbors, neighbors who might still be awake, it isn’t that late - but he can’t quiet himself. And hiding his face in a pillow would keep him from reading more.

I would give you everything you’ve imagined. I would kiss your neck while you rutted into my hand. I would bite your lips raw. Say my name. I want to hear your voice this time.

“Atsushi…” It should be strange, groaning his own name as he strokes himself. It should be strange, but right now the name only belongs to the wild and beautiful presence in his mind. He can think of no one else, not even himself.

Would you come for me like that? You’d want to repay the favor as soon as you caught your breath, I know. You’d look stunning on your knees.

A vivid image comes to him: him on his knees before his other half, his cock heavy on his tongue. The other Atsushi’s hand in his hair, urging him to take more, holding his head still while he poured his come down Atsushi’s throat. Atsushi licks his lips and strokes himself faster.

Or would you beg for me to fuck you? Do you want me to throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you hard enough to shake the bed? Do you want me to make you scream?

As if that’s even a question. His whole body is trembling hard enough that it’s difficult to keep reading the waving letter.

Let the whole library hear you.

You are mine.

Atsushi comes with a yell he can’t even try to muffle. Even once climax fades and reality starts to sink in again, he just lays there, panting.

He’s exhausted, too exhausted to do more than wipe his hand off on a bedsheet and set the letter on the night stand. Just in case someone comes into his room before he remembers to put the thing away properly, he sets the paper face down-

Oh god.

There’s more on the back.