Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1123012.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Soul_Eater
  Relationship:
      Giriko/Justin_Law
  Character:
      Giriko_(Soul_Eater), Justin_Law
  Additional Tags:
      Stair_Sex, Blow_Jobs, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot,
      Established_Relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-06 Words: 2592
****** Negotiation ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     “‘And what if you come up here?’” Giriko tries to pick a fight and
     Justin negotiates a compromise, of sorts.
“Hey.”
Giriko isn’t shouting, just projecting his voice so it echoes off the walls of
the house. He doesn’t need to shout. He knows from past experience that Justin
leaves his earphones out when he’s out of sight of the chainsaw so he can hear
if Giriko yells, which means that if he’s not responding as he is right now
Giriko is being ignored.
“Hey priest.” Still nothing. Giriko grimaces in frustration. He can’t see
anything from his position at the bottom of the staircase to the second floor
and he has no idea where Justin is. “Justin.”
There’s a pause. Then the sound of footsteps, shortly followed by Justin
himself leaning into view over the top railing. “Giriko,” he offers, like he’s
responding to a greeting. “Did you need something?”
“Come down here,” Giriko calls up. “What are you doing up there anyway?”
“Come up and find out.” Justin grins with the words. “You could try to distract
me from it.”
Giriko smirks at the implication that it would be an attempt and not a sure
thing, but then Justin starts to turn away and he calls out again. “Hey! No way
I’m coming up there for nothing, you come down here.”
Justin pauses, and Giriko can see even with the priest’s back to him the way
his shoulders draw tense. When he turns back around his smile is gone; there’s
still amusement at the edge of his mouth but it’s not touching his eyes, now,
and it’s at Giriko’s expense rather than a shared joke.
“Are you that lazy? Honestly? You want to pick a fight about who goes where?”
Giriko shows all of his teeth in what is ostensibly a smile. “Sounds a lot more
fun than the alternative.”
The chainsaw can see Justin raise one eyebrow, even from the odd angle almost
directly above him. “Do you think so?” The priest moves sideways, trailing his
hand along the railing as he paces out the perimeter of the stairwell. “What
exactly do you think is the alternative?”
Giriko shrugs and leans heavily on the railing at the base of the stairs. “You
stay up there being boring and I stay down here getting myself off.”
“Hm.” Justin pauses in his pacing and steps back from the railing for a minute.
Giriko can still see the shift of the priest just at the edge of his vision and
stays where he is. After a moment Justin comes back into sight; his hands are
full, and as he leans back out over the railing Giriko can’t quite see his face
around the obstruction. “And what if you come up here?” He drops what he is
holding; as it falls Giriko reaches out to grab it, and once its in his hands
he recognizes it as Justin’s outer robes. He looks back up and Justin is
leaning deliberately far over the railing, so for a breath Giriko worries the
priest is going to fall over the edge. He’s grinning bright and Giriko can see
the thin fabric of his white undershirt and the skin exposed by the loss of the
robe.
The chainsaw raises his eyebrows and drops the fabric he’s holding at his feet.
“If I keep stalling will you keep throwing your clothes at me?”
Justin pulls his cross-shaped amulet over his head and drops that too. Giriko
snatches it out of the air and keep looking up hopefully. Justin is smiling,
the expression so bright he actually looks his age for a moment.
“What else do I have?” he half-wails, all mock concern. “Hm.” He tosses down
two socks in quick succession; Giriko doesn’t try to catch them, just watches
Justin’s face. He’s laughing himself, chuckling as he stares up at the blond.
“I’m running out,” Justin observes as he looks down. “I mean I guess I’ve got
my shirt still.” Giriko holds his hands out without speaking and Justin twists
his shirt up over his head before dropping it over the railing. Giriko closes
his hands on the fabric and tosses it to the side without looking away from the
priest.
“What about your pants?” Giriko shouts up. Justin leans back from the railing
and for a minute Giriko thinks he means to walk away. Then the blond comes into
view at the top of the staircase and steps down onto the topmost stair. He’s
just got his black jeans on, now, and Giriko always forgets how tight those fit
when they’re hidden underneath the stupid robes. Giriko can see the curve of
the priest’s narrow hips through the fabric and the tight shift of skin over
his chest and stomach, and the dark looks so good against the priest’s pale
skin that Giriko almost thinks Justin looks better in just the pants than in
nothing at all.
Justin has stopped on the top stair; from the angle of his hip he’s aware that
Giriko is staring at him but he looks perfectly content to stay where he is
indefinitely. He tips his head to the side and smiles.
“I’m not going to come all the way down on my own,” he says carefully. Giriko
barks a laugh and swings himself around the bottom railing to set his foot on
the bottom step. Justin extends a bare foot towards the next step and Giriko
imitates him, moving up towards the landing as Justin comes down to meet him
halfway. They make it nearly to the landing before Giriko reaches up through
the railing to catch at Justin’s jeans. The priest leans sideway and smiles and
reaches out to touch his fingers against Giriko’s hair.
“Come up,” he says.
Giriko growls and reaches through the railing with his other hand to pull
Justin flat against the edge. “Take these off and I’ll meet you halfway.”
“And here I thought you’d want to take them off yourself.” Justin isn’t
fighting back at all, but the railing is in the way and drastically offsetting
Giriko’s mobility. The chainsaw growls again and steps sideways, letting go of
the priest so he can reach over the railing instead of through it and close his
fingers into a fist at the waistband of Justin’s jeans. The priest laughs and
stumbles down another step so they are both nearly at the landing. Giriko
brings his other hand around to pull the button of Justin’s jeans free, and
when the priest laughs Giriko hisses and swings himself around the edge of the
staircase to span the last few steps between them.
Justin falls back to sit on the stairs behind him and Giriko lands on the one
below him on his knees, bringing his head in so fast he hits Justin’s shoulder
with his nose before he can get his mouth against the priest’s skin where he
wants it. The blond leans back so he’s almost laying across the stairs and
reaches up to drag his fingers through Giriko’s hair. The chainsaw hisses in
something between pleasure at the contact and irritation at the possessiveness
but he’s got Justin’s pants open, and when he pulls at the waistband Justin
lifts his hips and wiggles so Giriko can slide the fabric free.
He takes a moment to appreciate the angle of the blond over the staircase, the
expanse of skin and muscle stretched tight from the careful balance over the
wood of the stairs. It’s not particularly comfortable for Giriko either -- his
weight is mostly on one knee, currently pressing hard into the edge of a stair,
and he’s going to have bruises if he stays like this for very long, but it’s
worth it for the way Justin is looking at him under his eyelashes.
“Isn’t this a better alternative?” he grins, coming down to exhale hot over the
priest’s cock. Justin gasps and rocks up and when he speaks his voice is
audibly strained.
“I think you met me after all.”
Giriko rolls his eyes. “Oh, fuck you,” he says, and closes his mouth around
Justin’s cock. The priest whines and tries to rock his hips up but Giriko is
ready for that and shoves back down to hold the blond in place. It’s hard
enough to keep his teeth out of the way without the interference of Justin’s
movement, and the priest’s usually remarkable self-control always evaporates
with the contact of Giriko’s mouth around his cock. It’s one of the reasons
Giriko likes blowing Justin, although he has no intention of ever explaining
such to the priest directly. But when he usually has to fight for any crack in
the blond’s facade, the instant gratification of Justin’s gasping inhales and
the involuntary grasp of Justin’s fingers against his hair is almost painfully
satisfying. When Giriko tightens his lips and sucks hard Justin makes a broken
sound and curls in around the chainsaw in spite of Giriko’s pressure on his
hips. Giriko laughs without moving his mouth and Justin gasps for air like the
chainsaw’s hitting him and knocking the wind out of his lungs.
Giriko has more skill at giving blowjobs than he thinks Justin has ever
properly noticed, given how immediately incoherent the blond becomes at the
touch of Giriko’s mouth. He still brings it to bear in this case, sliding his
tongue hard over Justin’s cock to a responding wail, and as Justin arches up
towards him as far as he can manage, Giriko lets the very edge of his teeth
touch the sensitive skin. Justin sucks in an enormous breath of air, says
“Giriko,” like he’s giving a warning, and the chainsaw sucks again and that
pushes Justin over the edge. Come spills hot and bitter over Giriko’s tongue
but the priest is moaning like he can’t breathe or speak or think and the
pleasure of the sound more than makes up for the taste.
When Giriko pulls back and lets Justin go to drag a hand over his mouth, the
priest doesn’t move for a moment, just lies back over the stairs as if he’s
spread out over the comfort of their bed. The chainsaw gives him a minute,
takes advantage of Justin’s closed eyes to stare at the angle of the blond’s
hip and shoulder, but then his patience runs out and he closes his hand around
Justin’s shoulder.
“You planning on staying there long-term?” Giriko asks. “Not you don’t look
pretty lying there, but --”
Justin laughs weakly and sits up. “Not my plan, no.” He comes forward as Giriko
rocks back and they both go down the stairs to the landing proper. Justin is
moving like he doesn’t quite have bones to close the distance between them, and
Giriko shuffles back until his shoulders hit the wall of the stairwell before
the priest closes his fingers on the front of Giriko’s pants. “Not my plan
at all.” He looks up, and his eyes are full of dark amusement. “You did meet me
halfway, after all.”
Giriko tips his head back and laughs, and by the time he looks back down
Justin’s got his hand around the chainsaw’s cock and is sliding it free from
the constriction of his jeans. Giriko hums far back in his throat at just the
casual contact, and Justin looks up with half-a-smile before coming in to take
Giriko as far into his mouth as he can go.
The chainsaw groans in satisfaction, partially from the contact and partially
because there’s nothing quite as pornographically appealing as Justin with his
mouth full of cock and still an inch short of taking all of the chainsaw past
his lips. Giriko rocks his hips forward just so he can hit the back of Justin’s
throat and see the priest half-choke before he pushes back his reflex and gets
a hand back up around the base of Giriko’s cock.
Giriko lets Justin suck him off for a few minutes, appreciating the view and
the pleasure collecting under his skin at the friction, and then he brings a
hand to rest gently on the top of the blond head. Justin glances up but doesn’t
stop and doesn’t change what he’s doing, except to make a faint questioning
noise at the very back of his throat that Giriko can feel vibrate up his own
spine.
“You look good with your mouth full of cock,” he observes, and Justin’s lips
try to twist into a smile and Giriko can feel him almost-laugh although the
sound is interrupted. “I don’t know why you insist on doing anything else with
your day when this is clearly what you were born to do.”
Justin maintains the presence of mind to roll his eyes in a stunning example of
nonverbal communication, and Giriko starts to laugh. Then the priest lets his
hand go to grab Giriko’s hips and hold him in place, and Giriko gets a breath
of warning before Justin angles his head and takes the extra inch down into his
throat.
Giriko’s head goes back to hit the wall and he groans, although it sounds more
like a yell from the sharpness and the volume, and his hand pulls hard on
Justin’s hair without meaning to. Justin pulls back anyway, entirely overcoming
the pressure of Giriko’s hand like it’s not there at all, and when he doesn’t
come back in Giriko looks down.
The priest is smiling but his eyes are hot, very nearly angry. “I can do
a lot of things well,” he informs Giriko while the chainsaw hisses in
frustration and pushes uselessly against his head. “Taunting someone who has
your cock in his mouth is a spectacularly stupid idea.”
“I wasn’t taunting you, idiot,” Giriko growls. “It was a fucking compliment.”
Justin keeps staring at him for another moment. Then he blinks, and the anger
is gone like it was never there.
“Well then,” he says, as if that resolves the issue, and he brings his mouth
back in and that does resolve the issue by all of Giriko’s standards. The
chainsaw loses track of what Justin is doing, exactly, with his tongue and his
lips and his throat, but by the time he groans and bucks forward to come
against the back of Justin’s tongue he’s willing to admit that whatever Justin
might lack in experience he makes up for in natural talent.
It’s hard to keep on his feet as Justin lets his hold on the chainsaw’s hips
go; he didn’t realize how much weight the priest was supporting until he stries
to stand on his shaking knees and drops to the floor somewhat faster than he
anticipated. But Justin laughs, and the amusement reaches his eyes this time,
and when Giriko doesn’t move to get up the blond crawls in to fit his hips
between Giriko’s legs and lean his bony shoulder into Giriko’s chest.
“Ow,” Giriko says, but it’s not much of a protest. He grabs Justin’s far
shoulder and twists him bodily so the angle is less of a direct jab into his
skin. “Better. You should eat more, you know.”
Justin rests his minimal weight into Giriko’s shoulder and leans in close
enough that when he shuts his eyes Giriko can feel his eyelashes brush against
his neck. “I’ve been told.”
Giriko hesitates, but Justin is right there, after all, and he appears to have
no intention of moving, and it would be more comfortable if -- he reaches up to
fit his arm around the blond’s skinny shoulderblades in a semblance of an
embrace. Justin purrs against his shoulder, and leans in closer, and Giriko
smiles where the priest can’t see his expression.
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