Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1817248.
  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:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, No_Plot/Plotless, Established
      Relationship, Blindfolds, Fluff_and_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-23 Words: 3124
****** Perception ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "It is not that Aoyagi is trying to cut off Teshima’s perception, at
     least not all of it." Aoyagi has a surprise and Teshima is delighted.
It is not that Aoyagi is trying to cut off Teshima’s perception, at least not
all of it. He loves that about Teshima, as he loves everything about Teshima.
He likes that he doesn’t have to speak to be understood, that he can touch or
sigh or blink and Teshima will react as if he’s given a full speech, that
sometimes Teshima seems nearly psychic with his perception and Aoyagi can trust
his understanding even if he doesn’t know how Teshima is doing it. It seems
easier to let it happen, and it’s not like he wants to stop it, so he just
accepts it, mostly.
But curiosity is starting to creep into his mind, interest rather than doubt,
and besides, he knows Teshima will at least like the novelty of his plan. The
perception works both ways, after all; just because Teshima talks more doesn’t
mean he’s saying more, and Aoyagi is very good at reading under and between the
other boy’s words. So when he reaches for Teshima’s hand on the way home he is
expecting the raised eyebrow, the “What are you planning?” Teshima offers with
a smile, and he wants it to be a surprise so he’s very careful to think about
their training rather than what he has waiting at home.
Teshima tips his chin and laughs, takes a quick half-step forward so he’s right
alongside Aoyagi instead of trailing him. Their fingers fit into each other
without thought, Teshima’s hair catches on Aoyagi’s shoulder when the other boy
leans in to kiss his shoulder.
“Fine, keep your secret,” he says against Aoyagi’s jacket. “As long as I don’t
have to wait too long.”
Aoyagi smiles -- as if he would keep Teshima waiting on a surprise long -- and
tightens his hold on the other boy’s hand, just for a moment. Teshima lifts his
head and smiles at the blond, and Aoyagi glances at him sideways and smiles
back from behind the fall of his hair.
It’s a short walk but they still make it in half the time it usually takes.
Aoyagi doesn’t realize at first that Teshima is speeding up, that he is
unconsciously lengthening his own stride to match the other boy, but at some
point they drop into an actual jog instead of a walk and that’s a giveaway.
Aoyagi doesn’t complain, though he does shoot Teshima a look that says
something along the lines of in a hurry for your surprise? Teshima doesn’t
bother denying it -- it’s not like either of them would believe him, anyway -
- just smiles so bright his eyes light up like stars. Aoyagi loves it when he
smiles that way. He’s ready to run the rest of the way home, if he can keep
Teshima smiling like that.
The house is empty when they get there, like it usually is for the first few
hours after school and practice. Aoyagi opens the door, and Teshima reaches for
the light, and by the time Aoyagi has slipped his shoes off Teshima is already
taking the lead down the hallway so the other boy can pad in his wake while he
slides the knot of his tie loose.
Teshima doesn’t turn around until they get to Aoyagi’s room, until he’s turned
the light on and glanced around the familiar setting to confirm that there’s
nothing visibly different from the day before. By the time the other boy is
turning back to Aoyagi, the blond has his tie undone, is sliding it free from
his collar so Teshima closes his mouth on his unvoiced question, tips his head
and smiles warm at the other boy.
“That is a surprise,” he say. His voice says it’s a good one, even if Aoyagi
hadn’t known it would be already, even if Teshima weren’t reaching to pull his
hair free of its tie the way he only ever does in Aoyagi’s room, now. “You
always have the best ideas.”
No, Aoyagi wants to say, you do, but he doesn’t speak, and Teshima gives him a
look that says he knows what he wanted to say even if the words didn’t make it
out.
“You do,” he reiterates, just to underline his point, as he turns his back to
the other boy without being told. “You’ve got the creativity of the two of us.”
He reaches up to hold the fabric in place over his eyes when Aoyagi loops the
tie over his head, keeps talking while the blond knots the makeshift blindfold
in place against the inky shadow of Teshima’s hair. “You’ve got to make good
use of it on my behalf, after all.” He lets go of the tie but doesn’t turn
around like Aoyagi half-expects him to -- his hand hovers in midair for a
moment, like he’s reaching for something or waiting for contact. Then he
twists, sharp and fast from his waist, and Aoyagi extends his hand so his
fingers are directly in the arc of Teshima’s movement, so the other boy’s wrist
smacks solidly against his palm.
“Wow.” Teshima’s voice is trembling very slightly, like they’ve just finished a
race or like he sometimes sounds over the phone, late at night when they have
to be in separate beds and at a distance. His hand twists, his fingers close
hard on Aoyagi’s wrist, and Aoyagi is just reaching for the blindfold to take
it off when Teshima says “No, don’t,” and lifts his free hand to hover
protectively over his covered eyes. “It’s fine, it’s just disorienting.”
Aoyagi smiles, and Teshima grins, reaches out to feel blindly through the air
until he can touch Aoyagi’s shoulder. “I can’t tell where you are, you breathe
so quietly.” Teshima’s voice is very loud in the space, like he’s trying to
fill the quiet or trying to talk around nervousness. “I can’t see what you’re
thinking, it’s -- like trying to sleep without you.”
“Junta,” Aoyagi says. One hand is already occupied with Teshima’s hand but he
steps in closer while the other boy is sighing in relief at the sound of his
voice, close enough that he can rest his forehead against Teshima’s and breathe
over his mouth. “I’m here.”
“Of course you are,” Teshima says, but his hand is curling into a clinging hold
on Aoyagi’s hair, and the blond shuts his eyes and sighs at the contact so for
a moment they’re in the dark together.
“Do you want me to keep talking?” he says with his eyes still shut. It’s odd to
hear his own voice instead of Teshima’s, odd for the other boy to be so quiet,
but then Teshima laughs and bumps his nose against Aoyagi’s cheek, and the
brief uncanny silence evaporates and Aoyagi opens his eyes so he can watch the
smile collect at the corner of the other boy’s mouth.
“I can hear you breathing from this close,” Teshima says. His fingers shift on
Aoyagi’s hand, let go of the blond’s wrist to fit their hands together instead,
and the hand against Aoyagi’s hair slides down, fumbles out along the edge of
his jacket to the button at the front. “I just lost you for a minute.”
Aoyagi smiles, catches the front of Teshima’s jacket with his free hand, and
they both slide the buttons free at the same time.
You never lost me, he says against the back of Teshima’s neck, spelling out the
words with the press of fingers against skin, and Teshima sighs and smiles and
arches in to press against Aoyagi as smoothly as if he could see.
“We’re off-balance,” he observes, lets the loose edge of Aoyagi’s jacket go so
he can fit his fingers around the knot of his own tie and slide it loose an
inch. Aoyagi pulls at the end as the knot comes free, drags the fabric free and
lets it fall to the floor as Teshima starts undoing his shirt one-handed. When
Aoyagi reaches to take over a button in advance of the other boy’s descent
Teshima leaves the rest to him, reaches out to fumble blind until he finds the
line down the center of the blond’s shirt and can mirror Aoyagi’s movements.
He’s slower than usual, careful with the loss of his vision, so Aoyagi slows,
gives him time to catch up so when he takes the last half-step in to press
against Teshima there’s the warmth of skin-on-skin against him.
Teshima turns in towards him, faintly awkward without the ability to match
Aoyagi’s movements by sight. The bump of his lips against Aoyagi’s cheek before
the blond shifts to compensate and lines their mouths up properly is charming
with novelty as much as Teshima’s usual perfect coordination is intoxicating.
Just as delightful is the way Teshima is laughing, the sound bubbling up under
Aoyagi’s lips until the blond is smiling before he knows the joke.
“I can’t tell where you are,” Teshima says against his mouth, moves
deliberately an inch off-center so he’s kissing the bridge of Aoyagi’s nose.
“I’m not even sure where I’m kissing you.”
It’s not like Aoyagi minds that. The touch of Teshima’s mouth makes him sigh as
warm relaxation washes over him, as knots he didn’t know he had between his
shoulders and under his wrists loosen without any touch at all. He lets go of
Teshima’s hand, just for a moment while he pushes the loose shirt and school
jacket both off the other boy’s shoulders. Teshima finds his waist, rests his
fingers there like he’s grounding himself in place, keeps that touch lingering
while his other hand slides up over Aoyagi’s chest and collarbone to his
shoulder so he can imitate the blond’s motion.
“You’re leading,” he observes. He’s talking more softly than usual in deference
to the darkness over his eyes, smiling faintly even though his fingers are
hesitant and uncertain. “I’m just going to follow you for once, Hajime.”
Aoyagi nods before he realizes Teshima can’t see him, before he realizes
Teshima used his name and his mouth curves into uncontrolled pleasure. His
fingers fit against the other boy’s waist, steer him gently backwards, and
Teshima steps without seeing, without hesitating at all about where he’s going.
They move back two steps, three, smooth and even as if they’re both walking
forward, and when the edge of the bed comes up Teshima slows in response to
some tiny motion in Aoyagi’s fingers against his skin, some catch of worry in
the blond’s movements.
“The bed’s right behind me,” he says instead of asking, slides one foot back
until his leg hits the edge. “Okay.” He tightens his hold on Aoyagi’s shoulder,
lets the other boy take his weight so he can lower himself carefully to the
bed. He’s smiling, faintly -- Aoyagi’s certain he doesn’t realize he’s doing
it, at least until the blond reaches out to touch a fingertip to the curve of
the other boy’s mouth.
“How do you want me?” Teshima asks, turning his head in to kiss Aoyagi’s
fingers. When Aoyagi reaches out to touch Teshima’s shoulder the other boy
leans back almost before he’s made contact, drops smooth and graceful back over
the sheets. His hair is very dark against the pale skin of his shoulder,
curling against the sharp edge of his collarbone until Aoyagi can’t help but
lean in to press his lips against the trailing end of Teshima’s hair. The other
boy jumps at the contact, startled as Aoyagi never sees him, and when he laughs
bright and amused Aoyagi reaches down to slide his fingers down against the
other’s hip.
Teshima’s breath catches, he rocks up against Aoyagi’s touch, and when the
blond moves away to kneel between the other’s legs he starts to talk again to
fill the quiet of the room. “This is crazy, Hajime, I can barely tell where you
are.” His fingers touch against Aoyagi’s face, shoulder, hip, like he’s
sketching out the perimeter of the other’s body with his hands rather than his
eyes. “I can hear you breathing, though, it’s like I can sense you without even
needing to see your face.” His touch is getting better -- when he reaches out
again his fingers skim over Aoyagi’s mouth rather than fumbling against his
hair, his fingertips curl around the loose edge of his shirt. “Take this off,
you’re wearing too much.”
Aoyagi can’t argue with that. He leaves Teshima’s pants for a moment, sheds his
own clothes to crumple to the floor with the other boy’s, and then he’s back,
sliding his fingers against the top edge of the other’s uniform pants until he
gets back to the button he was working on a moment ago. Teshima’s hips come off
the bed in expectation, the other boy presses himself in against Aoyagi’s
wrist, and the blond smiles and huffs an inaudible laugh that Teshima catches
anyway.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he demands, but he’s smiling too, amused in the moment
before Aoyagi gets his pants open and slides his fingers down against Teshima’s
stomach to seek out the jerk of response he knows he’s get. He’s not wrong, as
he’s never wrong with Teshima; the other boy catches his breath when Aoyagi’s
fingers brush against him, arches up into the contact as fast as Aoyagi is
reaching for more, until they’re both moving in together to get closer as fast
as possible. Teshima’s fingers catch at Aoyagi’s pants, fumble one-handed and
clumsy until the other boy lets his weight hit the mattress alongside him,
offers the support of his own free hand to the other’s. It’s a quick process,
then, just a few breathless seconds and then Teshima’s echoing Aoyagi’s
motions, his palm digging in against the blond’s hip with the pressure of a
promise.
“Hajime.” He’s turned in sideways, followed the blond’s motion like a flower
turning in towards the sun, and he’s reaching across to curl his fingers around
Aoyagi’s length as fast as the other boy gains traction himself. “Talk to me, I
love hearing your voice.”
Under the pressure of the request for a moment every thought in Aoyagi’s head
vanishes, evaporates like he’s never thought anything at all. It’s okay,
though, he can take his time with this, wait for coherency to come back while
he slides his hand free so he can tug the last of Teshima’s clothes free.
“I love you,” he finally says, the easiest thing to say as it always is with
Teshima. His voice is odd in his own ears, like someone else is saying the
words he wants, but Teshima sighs and smiles like he’s giving him something
precious, and that makes it easy to keep going even when he pulls away for the
moment needed to wiggle free of his own clothing. “Junta, I love you.” He comes
back in, curls in close against Teshima’s skin as the other boy’s hands land on
him and his sense of separation fades away. “I don’t -- I don’t know what else
to say.”
“That’s enough,” Teshima soothes, and when the other boy’s hands come in
against Aoyagi’s neck and hip it’s easy to mirror them without thinking, drop
back and let Teshima draft for him, leading even with the handicap of the tie
knotted over his vision. “Just that, that’s perfect, Hajime.”
“I love you,” Aoyagi says again, against Teshima’s shoulder this time so he can
feel the other boy tense under his mouth when he brings his hand across and
brushes his fingers over Teshima’s length. “I love you.” He angles his knee in
and Teshima shifts his apart, slots their legs together so their wrists bump
together before Teshima’s thumb hooks around his fingers, draws them into
alignment so they’re lined up under interlocking fingers as well as along the
flushed skin of their bodies.
“Junta,” Aoyagi says, and “I love you,” Teshima finishes. Aoyagi isn’t sure
which of them is setting the pace; it might be the shift of his arm, it might
be the pull of Teshima’s hand over them both, it’s not important in the end.
Teshima is tipping his head in, asking for a kiss he can’t find alone, and when
Aoyagi meets him to gently bump their foreheads together Teshima huffs a laugh,
and smiles, and relaxes like that’s all he needed. Aoyagi isn’t sure if it’s
Teshima’s hand stroking over him or his own that’s catching just the right
friction; it might even be the feel of Teshima hot and hard against him that’s
doing it, the flushing heat of arousal pushing him towards the edge secondhand.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is Teshima, tipping his head in for an almost-
missed kiss that lands on Aoyagi’s cheek instead of his mouth, the choked laugh
of delighted amusement that turns into a groan when Aoyagi shifts his fingers
into a better grip. Aoyagi’s breathing is dropping into rhythm, or Teshima’s is
aligning with him; maybe they’re both adjusting to the perfect medium between
them, that even keel that Aoyagi can only ever find when Teshima’s with him.
“Hajime,” Junta gasps. His hand jerks tighter and Aoyagi hisses in involuntary
reaction. “Hajime, I -- ah, I love -- you, I love you.” Aoyagi arches in
closer, catches his mouth on Teshima’s just as he whimpers, “Junta.” Then
Aoyagi tightens his grip, and Teshima angles his wrist, and Aoyagi’s coming,
shivering speechless against Teshima’s lips while the other boy tenses and
jerks and comes over their entangled fingers.
Neither of them moves after, except to free their hands so they can line their
arms together like their legs and fit in closer without the need for movement.
Teshima reaches up for the tie, slides the fabric free as Aoyagi loosens the
knot one-handed; his eyes seem even darker with their brief absence, almost
purple with the shadows they catch as Aoyagi looks.
“You’re wonderful,” Teshima declares, bumping his nose against Aoyagi’s before
lifting his chin so the blond can fit his head in against the other’s shoulder.
“You are a delight and total perfection, you know.”
Aoyagi smiles, where Teshima can’t see him, and when he shoves at Teshima’s
collarbone with his forehead to say no, you Teshima laughs, tangles his fingers
into a handful of Aoyagi’s hair and presses a kiss into his forehead. Aoyagi
shuts his eyes, imagines what this would be like without sight, without the
guidance of pale skin and dark curls and slow curving smile to lead him.
“I’ll blindfold you next time,” Teshima says over his head. “I’ll use my tie
and you can follow my lead, it’ll be fun, right?”
Aoyagi doesn’t try to fight his smile. He nods, sharp and quick with
enthusiasm, and he can feel Teshima start to laugh with delight even before the
sound makes it past his throat.
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