Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2062728.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      弱虫ペダル_|_Yowamushi_Pedal
  Relationship:
      Aoyagi_Hajime/Teshima_Junta
  Character:
      Aoyagi_Hajime, Teshima_Junta
  Additional Tags:
      Semi-Public_Sex, Hand_Jobs, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without
      Plot, Established_Relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-20 Words: 3252
****** Miscalculation ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "Knowledge helps Teshima make predictions, smoothes over fumbling
     interactions with other people into something easy and fluid and
     instinctive and makes reading Aoyagi nearly effortless. ‘Nearly’
     still leaves space for mistakes, though, minor adjustments or
     miscalculations, and occasionally Teshima has been known to
     miscalculate. It’s always exciting, to be surprised." Teshima makes a
     minor miscalculation and is pleasantly surprised.
Teshima knows Aoyagi better than he has ever known another person, maybe better
even than he knows himself. It’s easier to understand someone from a slight
perspective, easier to read Aoyagi like a favorite book with the distance of a
body between them, even if sometimes skin is the only thing between them.
Teshima knows the shape of Aoyagi’s handwriting and the crease of concentration
in his forehead, knows the sound of his breathing and the huff of the repressed
laughter Teshima can sometimes win from him. He knows Aoyagi’s potential and he
knows his limits, knows how hard Aoyagi can push and when he has used all his
strength. And he knows the smaller things too, the things that have nothing to
do with cycling and are more than friendship, like the feel of the invisible
scar on Aoyagi’s lip from a years-old forgotten accident, the way Aoyagi’s hips
come up involuntarily when Teshima kisses his stomach, the taste of the sound
Aoyagi makes when he comes. Knowledge helps him make predictions, smoothes over
fumbling interactions with other people into something easy and fluid and
instinctive and makes reading Aoyagi nearly effortless. ‘Nearly’ still leaves
space for mistakes, though, minor adjustments or miscalculations, and
occasionally Teshima has been known to miscalculate.
It’s always exciting, to be surprised.
He’s not actively thinking about anything at all, today. He and Aoyagi have
been pedaling for nearly a half hour, now, slow and easy with an eye more
towards the company and the experience than to the training of their planned
route. It’s still too early on a Saturday for much company on the road, and
after wandering through the city streets they’ve hit a road out of town, made
it past the populated areas and into the dappled shade of the forest
overhanging the path. They’ve been uninterrupted for over a mile and a half,
neither of them speaking to fill the silence. It’s more than comfortable;
Aoyagi’s quiet is always heavy with meaning, unspoken words and occasional
sideways glances that are too easy to miss when there are other people around,
when there are other sounds to fill Teshima’s perception. Like this he doesn’t
miss anything; Aoyagi is steering him instead of the other way around, slowing
their pace and drawing Teshima’s gaze with the motion of his head. It’s like
being borne along on a current, letting the silent force of the other pull him
into calm obedience, free him of the need to calculate and strategize every
action.
By the time Aoyagi glides in a few inches closer, Teshima’s body is warm and
languid with the comfortable isolation of the other’s presence and he doesn’t
even think to move away. It’s easy to bike with Aoyagi this close; they’ve been
closer before, and at full racing speed. In comparison, the slow ease of their
current pace means Teshima doesn’t even have to think about coordinating his
movements, can just lean slightly sideways until his elbow bumps against
Aoyagi’s shoulder. When he glances over Aoyagi is watching him from under his
hair, the curve of a smile pulling at his lips even before Teshima starts to
grin at the contact of their arms. He comes in a little closer at the same time
Aoyagi does, until their handlebars are bumping together and in some danger of
getting tangled if they weren’t so wordlessly in sync. As it is the danger is
nonexistent, even when Aoyagi lifts his hand to reach around Teshima’s waist.
It’s a stretch even as close as their bikes are but it makes Teshima smile
wider, tip slightly farther in so he can fit himself in under Aoyagi’s arm.
Teshima keeps his eyes on the road to watch for the unlikely possibility of an
obstruction and Aoyagi turns in against his shoulder, leans over as far as he
can reach to kiss at Teshima’s neck. He can’t quite make it; there’s only the
faintest touch of his mouth before he has to pull back over his bike to keep
from falling. Teshima laughs, charmed and amused, and Aoyagi shoots him another
smile before he comes back in again, as close as he can, so close his foot is
brushing Teshima’s as they pedal.
He doesn’t try for the bare skin above Teshima’s collar again, but after a
moment to recenter his balance Aoyagi turns his head again, bumps his mouth
against Teshima’s shoulder, and slides his fingers down to the bottom of the
other’s shirt. Teshima knows where Aoyagi is going; still, the first brush of
contact against his skin makes him take a sharp breath out-of-rhythm to the
easy pattern they’ve established. His huffed laugh is more in response to his
own reaction than Aoyagi’s actions, and the other makes no move to pull away,
just works his hand up under Teshima’s shirt so he can set his fingers into the
space just under Teshima’s ribs. It almost tickles, the premonition of
sensation draws Teshima’s breathing shorter and shallower, but the threat is
flushing his skin warm, drawing a smile onto his mouth he can’t fight down.
Aoyagi doesn’t move again for a moment. Teshima keeps watching the road, idly
tracking the flat surface for obstacles while the greater part of his mind
relishes the pressure of Aoyagi’s mouth against his arm and the warmth of
fingers on his skin. He’s just starting to relax back from the edge of ticklish
when Aoyagi shifts again, lifts his head to watch where he’s going in
supplement to Teshima’s attention and drags his hand sideways over Teshima’s
back. For a moment Teshima thinks he’s going to pull away, is just preparing to
tell himself that’s probably safer in an attempt to take the edge of the
disappointment, when Aoyagi’s hand pushes up his spine, high under his shirt.
Teshima’s eyebrows go up, he discards his initial hypothesis as obviously
false, and when Aoyagi scrapes his fingernails gently down his back Teshima
makes a faint whine of pleased response. The flush of reaction washes out over
his skin, down his arms to settle shaking in his fingertips, and Aoyagi brings
his hand back down, slides his fingertips gently across the very top edge of
Teshima’s shorts. Teshima shivers but doesn’t say anything, and after a moment
Aoyagi’s hand circles around his hip, Aoyagi’s fingers come up to spread over
his stomach like he’s holding Teshima in place. Their pace is slowing further;
Teshima thinks it’s probably on his initiative, but it might be Aoyagi too. It
would be hard to tell which of them slowed first even at the best of times, and
he’s significantly distracted at the moment. His pedaling is more out of habit
than thought, now, barely enough to ruffle wind through his hair; it’s taking
active effort to keep his mind on the road, to keep his eyes open and not turn
in to sigh against Aoyagi’s shoulder.
Teshima is distracted by the warm flush of pleasure washing over him, enough
that he doesn’t think to immediately stop Aoyagi when the other boy’s fingers
slide just under the edge of his shorts. It’s barely an inch, at first, and it
feels even better than the slow slide against his back and stomach. The rarely-
touched skin lights up under Aoyagi’s fingertips so Teshima makes a sound, the
leaning edge of a groan of pleasure just from the comfort of the sensation.
Teshima doesn’t stop Aoyagi or protest at all, and when the other’s fingers
work down another inch it’s hard to tell exactly when he should start. It’s
barely any farther than Aoyagi’s already gone, after all, and all of Teshima’s
skin is lighting up until he feels like he must be glowing. He’s not thinking
at all, either about their pace or the setting or what Aoyagi is planning; he’s
just drifting on the shivery pleasure of Aoyagi’s fingers pressing gentle into
his skin, the deliberate drag of the other’s hand across his hip and the curve
of his back.
Warmth is starting to go to heat, and Teshima is just starting to think they
should stop, or at least pull off to the side of the road if Aoyagi wants to
keep going, when the other deliberately smoothes his pace, picks up the rhythm
of their pedaling from Teshima. Teshima expects Aoyagi to pull away, then, but
when he looks sideways Aoyagi’s face says something entirely different, gives
him a moment of warning before the other slides his fingers sideways inside
Teshima’s shorts. He moves up to the edge of decency and straight past it, so
fluidly Teshima is just starting to take a breath of shock when Aoyagi’s
fingers brush over his length.
For a minute his breathing doesn’t work quite right. He’s taking faster inhales
than usual just from the mild exertion of the cycling, and in the first moment
of hesitation between interest and amusement and shock he can’t decide what
sort of a sound he’s trying to make. His hands tighten involuntarily on his
handlebars, Teshima chokes on a lungful of air; then Aoyagi curls his fingers
in more deliberately, saying as clearly as words that he’s not just teasing,
and Teshima gusts his breath out and glances sideways. Aoyagi is watching him,
golden eyes fixed on Teshima’s face in patient expectation of the other’s
reaction. Teshima runs through several calculations very quickly -- the
likelihood of getting caught, the potential for injury if he can’t actually
manage to stay upright, the objective merit of this idea in the first place.
He’s still weighing everything, holding it against the surge of adrenaline and
excitement in his veins and finding them nearly even, when Aoyagi starts to
smile, and Teshima knows, instantly, what he’s going to say.
He would do anything at all to see Aoyagi’s smile.
“Pedal slowly,” he says, suiting his motions to his words. “I might have to
stop.”
Aoyagi inclines his head, a nod that says of course as much as okay. He matches
his cadence to Teshima’s until they’re barely moving quickly enough to stay
upright at all, and steadies his grip on his handlebars so he can steer one-
handed and fully commit to what he’s started. Teshima takes a breath, focuses
on his breathing and watching the road, farther ahead now so he can hopefully
see someone coming in the unlikely event they encounter anyone else. He’s
not trying to focus on what Aoyagi’s fingers are doing; the opposite, actually,
in deference to his attempt to keep pedaling as they do this. But every motion
of the other boy’s fingers pulls his attention irresistibly to the warmth of
Aoyagi’s hands and the friction of his skin, the gentle pressure and slow start
Aoyagi knows Teshima likes better than something harder and faster. It’s not
entirely comfortable, not least because Teshima is trying to keep his legs
moving in a more-or-less even rhythm; he has to keep shifting in an attempt to
find a better position on his bike seat, and the way Aoyagi is working around
his clothes means the fabric catches the movement of the other boy’s hand out
of smoothness. It must be even less comfortable for Aoyagi, but when Teshima
glances sideways the other boy is grinning wider than Teshima ever sees him
usually, his entire face is glowing like he has sunlight under his skin. Just
looking at him flushes Teshima hotter even than the irregular drag of Aoyagi’s
fingers over him, pulls his own lips into a mirrored smile even as his cheeks
warm with self-conscious awareness that he is responsible for the delighted
pleasure spread out clear over Aoyagi’s features. It doesn’t matter that this
is far from their first time, that Teshima has carefully collected information
until he can draw up that expression immediately with just a few minutes alone
with the other boy. It still hits him like the sun coming out, makes him laugh
bright as his lingering panic over his calculations crumbles away into the
pleasure of the moment, the reckless charm of the whole scenario. There’s a
faint echo from Aoyagi, soft laughter still clear under the focus of Teshima’s
attention, and Teshima can feel them both relax into somewhat unsteady forward
motion. Aoyagi’s fingers draw a little tighter before Teshima even opens his
mouth to say anything, pull over him a little faster as if in counterpoint to
the slowing motion of Teshima’s feet against his pedals. Aoyagi is maintaining
his balance, mostly, but between their ever-slowing pace and his current
distraction Teshima is starting to wobble, nearly falls before he can pull his
attention back to steering. It helps to clench his hands into fists on his
handlebars, tighten his hold as if that will tether him to reality and keep his
focus in check, but not enough; Aoyagi slides his thumb up over him and that’s
almost enough to undo all the advantage Teshima has gained by shifting his
grip. His legs are starting to shake, his knees threatening to give out under
his precarious balance, and when Aoyagi takes a breath and draws his hand
tighter Teshima’s hands are closing on his brakes before he has consciously
thought about it.
“Stop,” he says, but he didn’t need to say anything; Aoyagi already has a foot
on the ground, has come forward to stand over his frame before Teshima is sure
he can trust his own legs to hold him. He nearly falls as he takes his weight,
but Aoyagi has let him go for a minute so he can push Teshima’s shorts down by
the inches he needs. Teshima takes a breath, steadies his balance, and stares
off down the road as if his vision is clear enough to actually convey any
information at all to his heat-hazed thoughts. Aoyagi’s fingers brush against
his hip, giving him enough advance notice that Teshima can take a deep breath
before the other boy closes his fingers around his length again. Teshima’s eyes
close, his head drops forward, and all that air leaves his lungs as a groan;
Aoyagi picks up right where he left off, building pressure and speed as he has
been for the past few minutes, and with the brief pause to stop the increase is
enough to send a shiver of nearly-too-much sensation straight down Teshima’s
spine, enough to knock any situational awareness right out of his head. The air
is cool against his skin, enough to remind him where they are if he had any
deliberate thought left; as it is the chill of the air runs up against the
flush of his blood, outlines the heat of Aoyagi’s fingertips, and Teshima can
feel the ripples of pleasure rising under his skin in echo. His legs are
shaking so badly he has to lean forward, lock his elbows out over his
handlebars to hold himself up over the precarious support of his bike. Aoyagi
leans in, bumps his forehead in against Teshima’s cheek, and Teshima smiles
around his panting breathing, manages to say, “Hajime,” as part warning and
part encouragement. He can feel Aoyagi smile against his skin, the pull of the
other’s lips before he draws them into a kiss against Teshima’s cheek, and
Teshima starts to smile too before the expression is interrupted by the rush of
heat under his skin, before his mouth turns soft around a groan as he rocks
forward over his bike and comes over Aoyagi’s fingers. The heat washes out over
him, melts away the tension wound tight in his shoulders and hips and back, and
he slides forward to fold over the frame of his bike for a moment while he
catches his breath.
When he straightens his spine back into support Aoyagi has wiped his fingers
mostly clean on the edge of his shorts, is just looking back up from under his
hair to catch Teshima’s breath with the glow of his smile. Teshima laughs
weakly, navigates himself off his bike with more care than grace, and when he
starts to move to the verge Aoyagi doesn’t so much as hesitate in following
him. There is a part of Teshima that suggests dropping his bike as soon as they
are off the road, turning in to grab at Aoyagi’s clothes in response to the
now-languid warmth suffusing his veins with light, but in the end he can’t
repress his natural conscientiousness, and he does take the time to set the
frame carefully against a tree. Aoyagi is right at his heels, following to
tangle their handlebars together like they’re stand-ins for their bodies, and
Teshima pauses to catch Aoyagi’s eye, to share the brief candleflame flicker of
a smile before he catches the other’s wrist, pulls him around the other side of
the tree and at least minimally out of sight of the road.
Teshima’s favorite thing about cycling shorts, even more than the way Aoyagi’s
legs look in them, is how easy they are to get off. He doesn’t have to even
look at what he’s doing, can just lean in to meet Aoyagi’s chin-tilt of an
offered kiss, taste the sunlight of the other boy on his lips and warm on his
tongue while he settles his fingers against Aoyagi’s hip and slides his other
hand down past the edge of the other’s shorts. Aoyagi matches him in part if
not in whole, presses his fingers into Teshima’s waist and shifts his legs
apart so Teshima can fit their legs together, get as close as he can manage in
the less-than-ideal circumstances. Aoyagi’s hard and hot under his fingers as
soon as Teshima gets past the barrier of cloth, his breathing coming faster
than could possibly be from the ride well before the other closes his fingers
on his length and starts to stroke over him immediately fast. Teshima doesn’t
hesitate anymore about this; it would be too much for him but it’s exactly
right for Aoyagi, draws the fingers at his waist tight with pleasure and the
other boy’s mouth soft and shaky with the beginnings of an unvoiced moan. After
a moment Teshima pulls back, not because he really wants to stop kissing Aoyagi
but because he likes to watch him even better. The other boy’s eyes are shut,
he doesn’t move to open them even when Teshima leans back to watch him; his
lips are parted, his breathing coming so hard Teshima can feel the touch of
Aoyagi’s warmth blowing against the skin at the top of his shirt as clearly as
if he were deliberately trying to distract the other. It makes Teshima laugh,
and that makes Aoyagi smile, and then Aoyagi tips his head back against the
tree, turns his face up so the dappled sunlight coming through the leaves turns
his eyelashes gold for a moment. Teshima takes a sharp breath of appreciation,
and Aoyagi gulps an inhale; his face is still turned up to the light when the
flicker of pleasure washes over his features, and Teshima is still staring at
him, drinking in the way Aoyagi’s features briefly slip into otherworldly
light. Aoyagi takes a breath, lets it out, and then he tips his head back down,
and smiles, and he looks like himself even with the beauty of pleasure clinging
to the curve of his lip and the softness of his eyes.
When Teshima leans in again he can feel the “Love you,” forming on Aoyagi’s
lips just before their mouths come together to say the same on his behalf.
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