Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/1761477. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: 弱虫ペダル_|_Yowamushi_Pedal Relationship: Makishima_Yuusuke/Toudou_Jinpachi Character: Makishima_Yuusuke, Toudou_Jinpachi Additional Tags: Inline_with_canon, Wall_Sex, In_Public, Hand_Jobs, Blow_Jobs, No_Plot/ Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot Stats: Published: 2014-06-27 Words: 3498 ****** Rules ****** by tastewithouttalent Summary "Toudou has found him afterwards during both of their last races; Makishima’s half-expecting it, half-hoping, but it’s not enough of a habit for him to count on the other boy’s appearance." Makishima accidentally breaks Toudou's rules and Toudou has to clarify. It’s after their third race that Toudou implements The Rule. It’s not that Makishima is opposed to the idea as it stands. It’s that he doesn’t know that Toudou has set up this scheme in his head. As far as he knows, they’re racing for the thrill of winning, for the greater charm of competition, for the sheer joy of cycling together. Toudou is gorgeous on his bike, glowing with life and energy and delight, and there’s always a period of at least of a few minutes when Makishima's world narrows to the road and the motion of his pedals and Toudou just in his periphery, shining hair and sparkling smile and present as more than constant text messages or a slightly staticy voice over his cell phone. It’s Makishima's favorite part of the race, the favorite part of his life though he will never ever tell Toudou that. So he smiles when Toudou beats him in spite of his best efforts, appreciates the moment as long as he can, and lets the adrenaline fade away as it always does without lessening the experience by trying to hold to it. Toudou has found him afterwards during both of their last races; Makishima's half-expecting it, half-hoping, but it’s not enough of a habit for him to count on the other boy’s appearance. So he doesn’t wait around for a visit he’s not sure will come at all, just packs up his things and catches his breath in preparation for the slow ride home. Toudou’s not shown up by the time Makishima's ready to go, and he’s not going to wait, even if there is a prickle of disappointment at the back of his head. He tries to crush it down, tells himself that he really shouldn’t have expected anything, that this is why expectations are dangerous, and starts to make his way out through the lingering crowd and into the maze of side streets before he hits the straightaway to get home. He’s just turning a corner when there’s a call, “Maki-chan!” from behind him, and even if he didn’t recognize the nickname he knows the shrill irritation under the sound. He turns off into a side alley, off even the unoccupied street he’s currently on, because he suspects this isn’t going to be a short conversation from the tone of Toudou’s voice. The other boy is breathless and frowning when he brakes sharply to a stop alongside Maki. “Why did you run away? I was looking for you!” Makishima shrugs, tips his head so his hair swings forward to half-hide his face and cover the pleased surprise he’s sure is visible on his expression in spite of his best attempts to hold it back. “I was ready to head home.” Toudou huffs, swings off his bike and wheels it down the alley so he can lean it against the wall. “If you didn’t want to see me you could have said something, Maki-chan.” His petulant irritation is undermined by the assumption that is leading him to unclip his helmet so he can shake his hair back from his face, but his back is still to the other boy so Makishima can let himself smile at Toudou’s shoulders, oddly charmed by the other’s melodrama. Toudou keeps talking while Makishima follows his example, unclips his helmet and balances his bike against the wall. Makishima can hear the hurt under Toudou’s voice, even if the other boy didn’t have his arms crossed and one hip jutting out in a perfect picture of haughty frustration. “You can’t just leave without saying goodbye after a race, Maki-chan. That’s against the rules.” “Are there rules?” Makishima asks Toudou’s back. The other boy spins on his heel, his pretty face pulled into lines of irritation. “Of course there are rules.” He stomps forward; Makishima stays where he is as Toudou approaches, even when the other boy leans into his personal space, so close a loose lock of his hair brushes against Makishima's own. “You idiot, I barely get to see you as it is and then you just take off?” Toudou tosses his head, gusts a pointed sigh. “At least I was able to catch you before you were entirely gone.” His expression is still sharp with anger, which is part of why Makishima doesn’t see it coming. The fingers closing on the thin fabric of his jacket start to tip him off, but he doesn’t have time to more than start to say “What --” before the other boy drags him in by the fistful of cloth and kisses him. It’s relatively chaste, as far as Toudou’s kisses go, but that’s not saying a whole lot. His lips are still shifting warm and gentle against Makishima's mouth, like the other boy is actually kissing back instead of going stiff and awkward with uncertainty, his fingers are still curling against the back of Makishima's neck and sliding down under the collar of his jacket until Makishima whimpers in reaction in spite of his best efforts to fight it back. Toudou purrs, smiles against the other boy’s mouth, and when Makishima tentatively tries pushing back into the kiss Toudou sucks in a delighted breath and drags him in closer. There’s just kissing for a minute -- Toudou’s fingers are drifting lower by an inch down Makishima's spine, and his hold on the other boy’s jacket is going more steadying than angry, but mostly it’s the warmth of Toudou’s mouth demanding Makishima's attention, the slide of the other boy’s tongue past his lips until Makishima doesn’t realize he has forgotten to shut his eyes until the other pulls away. “See,” Toudou says, more breathless now than angry. He tugs Makishima sideways, steps in so close Makishima has no choice but to back up a step. “You shouldn’t have run away, you almost missed out on this.” “Toudou --” Makishima starts, but his voice sounds so rough he startles himself into silence, and Toudou’s face falls back into irritation. “You should stop that,” he says, punctuating by a shake and a push so Makishima falls back into the wall behind him. “Really, who calls his boyfriend by his last name?” “We’re not --” Makishima starts, but Toudou is still talking, increasing his volume so he’s drowning Makishima out and stepping in, sliding his fingers back up over the other boy’s shoulders and into the loose strands of his hair as a secondary distraction beyond just his words. “We would be, if you didn’t live so far away.” Toudou leans in closer, presses a kiss in against Makishima's neck. “It’s mean of you to deny me this.” “I’m not,” Makishima points out, and Toudou bites him, a sharp press of teeth into his skin so he jumps and gasps and goes quiet again. “You try to,” Toudou pouts. His shoulders are pressing Makishima up against the wall, and he’s not that big but neither is Maki, and the other boy has no real interest in attempting to break free anyway, not with the tingle of sensation from Toudou’s teeth and the heat of the other’s body up against him. “You try to run off, Maki-chan, don’t do that, it’s not fair.” “Sorry,” Makishima offers. He doesn’t sound particularly contrite, but that’s mostly because Toudou is licking along his collar and he can’t sound very much of anything but a little shocked and a lot breathless. “You’re not,” Toudou sighs. “It’s unjust, that you have what so many others want and you don’t even appreciate it. You take me for granted, Maki-chan.” His hand is working its way up against Makishima's scalp, his fingernails dragging over understimulated skin and sending frissons of heat down Makishima's spine, tipping his head back in reflexive reaction so his breathing pulls tight and gasping in his throat. “Mmm,” Toudou hums, drags his lips sideways to kiss against Makishima's throat instead of the side of his neck. “It’s lucky for you I’ve so crazy about you.” Makishima never knows if Toudou is being serious when he says things like that. Usually it’s over the phone and easy to write off as teasing, but it’s somewhat harder to assume insincerity when Toudou is licking his skin and grinding clear evidence of his interest into Makishima's hip. Makishima's still considering the question when Toudou lets his jacket go, presses his palm against Makishima's chest and starts to slide his hand down. “What are you doing?” Makishima asks, bringing his head down so he can try to see Toudou’s face. The other boy pulls back, licking his lower lip and still looking inordinately attractive even though his hair is starting to get disheveled. “I’m going to get you off,” Toudou says, so calmly that Makishima doesn’t properly process the words at first. “I won, after all.” “What does that have to do with it?” Makishima asks. He’s aware that he should be protesting, pushing Toudou away or at least voicing some coherent argument, but his hands have drifted up to Toudou’s shoulders and his feet won’t move, and the other boy’s fingers are still sliding down. Toudou’s laugh makes his eyes sparkle, shows his teeth in a flash of white so Makishima's staring at his mouth when he speaks. “So I get to get you off. That’s the rule, Maki-chan.” Makishima forces a smirk of his own even though he feels a little more like groaning and bucking up against the drag of fingers as Toudou’s fingertips come down past the edge of his racing shorts. “I didn’t hear about that.” “Yeah.” Toudou leans in, brushes his lips against Makishima's mouth so the other boy starts to lean in instinctively for more before he pulls back. “You’re my reward.” Makishima wants to protest -- the public space, the premise, the fact that Toudou is dodging away from a proper kiss -- but the other boy’s fingers press against him and blood rushes to meet the contact, and all he actually manages is a groan and a desperate grab at Toudou’s shoulder. It has at least one of the desired effects, at least. Toudou comes back in, pushes Makishima back up against the wall and pulls at his hair with the hand still against his scalp before he’s kissing him again, hard this time so Makishima can feel his teeth. “I missed you,” Toudou offers, digging his hips in against Makishima's leg and wrapping his fingers around the other boy’s cock properly. “You don’t call me enough and you don’t text me enough, I miss you all the time and then you leave after a race, this is my time with you, you should know that.” He’s punctuating with strokes of his hand, picking up speed until he falls into a rhythm. Makishima braces his shoulders against the wall and his hand on Toudou’s shoulder; he can feel his legs starting to shake and the other boy has barely started, but exhaustion and confusion and arousal are turning his bones to liquid and his breathing to gasps. The only consolation is that Toudou doesn’t seem at all inclined to stop; he’s purring in wordless satisfaction against Makishima's mouth, like the other boy’s lack of composure is feeding his own desire, and then he drags his thumb over the head of Makishima's cock and the other boy chokes and actually slides an inch down the wall before he can catch himself. “Toudou,” he manages. “If you keep going I’m going to come all over my clothes.” “If I keep going?” Toudou sounds personally affronted, but he jerks his hand faster with irritated force and Makishima's vision goes blurry for a moment while he bites his lip to keep from moaning again. “I’m not going to stop, Maki-chan, you should know that by now.” He lets Makishima's hair go in favor of grabbing at the other boy’s hip to hold him up, which is for the best as Makishima has lost control over his legs entirely. “I spent the entire race watching you in these fantastic shorts, thinking about how you were going to look when I jerked you off.” He leans in again for another bruising kiss; Makishima doesn’t go awkward, this time, he’s too flushed and too shaky to overthink it beyond parting his lips and licking against Toudou’s tongue. Apparently that’s the right thing to do, because when Toudou pulls back again his voice is audibly shaking. “You’re so gorgeous, I wish I could do this every day.” “Don’t tease me,” Makishima protests, though the retort lacks any fire at all. “I’m not,” Toudou says, kisses Makishima again like he can’t help himself. “I’m never teasing you, you just always think I am.” He laughs. “I keep telling you, Maki-chan, I’m a mess for you.” Makishima would have some response if he could remember how to talk. But his throat is working itself into whimpering encouragement without his intention, and his body is starting to shake more with anticipation of pleasure than exhaustion, and Toudou still hasn’t answered his original concern. “Tell me how good it feels,” Toudou purrs against his mouth. “Tell me, Maki- chan, I want to hear your voice.” “Fuck,” Makishima blurts, and shuts his eyes and gives up. “It feels good, your hand feels so good, Toudou. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” There’s the sound of Toudou huffing an exhale. “I told you you should really stop calling me that.” The hand at Makishima's hip pushes harder, the pressure of Toudou’s shoulders moves, and when Makishima opens his eyes to see what on earth the other boy is doing Toudou is just coming down on his knees in front of him. “Oh god,” Makishima says. Toudou looks up at him and offers a grin dripping with promise. “Don’t fall,” he suggests, and then he comes in and replaces his fingers with his mouth. If Toudou weren’t looking up at him, Makishima would drop his head back against the wall, arch into the warm slide of the other boy’s mouth and let the sensation wash over him. But he is, and Makishima can’t make himself look away from the shining delight in Toudou’s eyes, so he curls in instead of back, locks his knees out to keep on his feet, and forgets how to breathe for a minute while Toudou’s tongue drags up over him. It is only a minute; then the tight coil of anticipation that’s been building low in his stomach unwinds, pours warm and liquid into his veins, and Makishima groans and loses track of everything for a moment but the shudder of pleasure that ripples through him. Toudou is humming in satisfaction when Makishima takes a shaky breath and blinks his eyes back into focus. He pulls back so slow Makishima hisses with aftershocks, makes an enormous show of licking his lips as he gets to his feet again. “Mmm, Maki-chan, you taste good,” he says as he comes back in, reaches up to settle his fingers back into the other boy’s hair while Makishima gets his clothes back in place. “I do not,” Makishima protests, but he’s turning his head in to reach for another kiss without thinking so he undermines his own claim. “No one’s come tastes good.” “Yours does,” Toudou grins, and Makishima laughs instead of offering another futile argument. He won’t win, after all, and his usual stubborn resistance is weak and shaky with the lingering heat in his veins. Toudou comes back in, kisses against Makishima's cheek, and Makishima shuts his eyes and sighs in resignation to the tender affection. “What about you?” he finally asks, reaching out to curl his fingers around the edge of Toudou’s shorts even though he’s half-expecting a rebuff. Toudou’s reaction is the exact opposite of a rejection. The other boy arches in against Maki, drapes himself over the other boy’s shoulder so he can sigh against Makishima's ear, “I just wanted to see you come, Maki-chan, but if you want to get me off…” He caps the suggestion of his trailing sentence with a lick against Makishima's neck, and Makishima laughs and slides his fingers past the elastic edge of the shorts. “It’s only fair,” he points out. Toudou groans but his arms are coming up around Makishima's neck, he’s leaning into the other boy’s touch and rocking against Makishima's hand even as he says, “Yes, very romantic Maki-chan.” “If you want romantic,” Makishima starts, stung and starting to flush with embarrassment. Toudou’s hand catches his wrist to keep his hand in place, Toudou’s fingers curl into a hold on his hair, and when the other boy says, “I want you” there’s no space even for Makishima's doubt in the shiver of desire under the words. Makishima's honestly not sure what he’s doing. He knows what he likes but that might not be same as what Toudou likes, and the angle is all wrong, and now that his own want isn’t pushing him he’s very aware that they are in public, that even though no one has come by yet someone could at any moment. But Toudou’s fingers are tightening against his hair, and the other boy is panting faster with every awkward movement of Makishima's hand, and he’s rocking into the contact so Makishima barely has to do anything at all. “Maki-chan,” Toudou gasps, and Makishima isn’t sure if that is intended as warning or encouragement or indication that maybe he should go down on his knees like Toudou did, but he definitely recognizes the edge under the sound, the oncoming pleasure that turns even the ridiculous nickname gorgeous with desire. Toudou’s fingers come down over Makishima's, and the other boy is starting to rock harder into the pull of fingers over him, so Makishima keeps going, hopes it’s the right thing to do and starts breathing faster than he means to in unconscious echo of the other boy. Toudou arches into him, wails something incoherent into Makishima's shoulder, and Makishima can feel the shudder of orgasm hit the other’s body a moment before Toudou comes, mostly into his own hand. Toudou doesn’t move for a moment; most of his weight is hanging on Makishima's shoulders, but Makishima's mostly leaning against the wall at his back so he’s not really complaining. “God,” Toudou finally says. He gets his feet under him and takes most of his weight back. Makishima lets him go and Toudou straightens; his hair is falling loose of his headband, he’s flushed pink high across his cheekbones, and his mouth is damp and red from the pressure of Makishima's own lips. He looks utterly glorious; for a moment Makishima just stares at him, struck silent by his need to memorize this exact mental image. Toudou smiles, and there’s no edge to it at all for the first time Makishima can remember. He tugs his shorts back up, strips off his jacket so he can wipe his sticky hand across the inside before bundling the fabric around itself. “Won’t you be cold?” Makishima asks, retreating to practicality as a defense against his total loss for words. Toudou tips his chin at an angle, sparkles up at Maki. “Are you offering me your jacket, Maki-chan? How chivalrous of you.” He grins and reaches up to pull his headband down before finger-combing his hair into smoothness again. “I have another in my bag, don’t worry. One of us was prepared.” “Mm.” Makishima pushes up off the wall; his legs support him, even if they shake at first. Toudou is resettling his hair into its usual angle and the heat of arousal is fading from his cheeks; at least he doesn’t look as awkward as Makishima feels. Toudou’s gaze refocuses on Makishima's face before the other boy has a chance to clear away the self-consciousness currently shivering unpleasantly under his skin. “Oh, Maki-chan.” He reaches out, touches his fingers to the other boy’s cheek. “What am I going to have to do before you believe me?” Makishima doesn’t pull away when Toudou leans in; the kiss is gentle this time, just a brief skim of the other boy’s mouth against his. “You really are wonderful.” Makishima can’t answer coherently; his throat is closing up, for one thing, and for another he doesn’t know what he would say. It doesn’t seem to matter; Toudou smiles at him as sunnily as if he has delivered an entire speech of explanation, reaches out to touch Makishima's mouth with the tip of his finger. “Till our next race, Maki-chan.” Makishima nods by way of answer, and Toudou moves to collect his helmet and his bike from the alleyway. He’s just turning out onto the main street when he pauses, looks back to where Makishima is still standing in the shadows. “And text me back,” he pouts. “I want to hear from you, Maki-chan.” That startles a laugh from the other boy. Toudou smiles at him once more -- the warm smile again, the one without any edge to it -- and then he waves, and swings up onto his bike, and is gone. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!