Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/60169.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shin_Megami_Tensei:_Devil_Summoner
  Relationship:
      Narumi/Raidou
  Character:
      Raidou_Kuzunoha_XIV, Shouhei_Narumi
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-07-10 Words: 1536
****** Tit for Tat ******
by canis_m
Summary
     An early morning stakeout.
The longer they were together, the more Narumi became convinced he'd done a
solid day's work if he made Raidou come at least once before breakfast.
The kid was a tough nut to crack. Even after they'd made a regular thing of it-
-going steady, you might say--Narumi still had to catch him in the right mood
at the right time, or no dice. You'd think it would be easy peasy, sharing
space the way they did--lots of opportunities--but at night Raidou was usually
out doing a number on the Capital's demon population, or working a case, and if
he was at home he'd be all buttoned up with his nose to the grindstone, hitting
the books, or else so dog-tired from a combination of the above that Narumi
couldn't in good conscience (and he did have a conscience, try as he might to
shake it) pull any hanky panky at all.
Well, maybe a smidge. Couple of smooches. Little dab of necking. But that was
it.
He'd studied the problem from all angles, up and down, backwards and forwards,
top to bottom, and the long and short of it was, his best bet was an early
morning stakeout. There were three advantages to the timeframe: one, his mark
was well rested; two, his mark's guard was down; and three, Devil Summoner or
no, higher calling or no, sometimes Kuzunoha Raidou got a stiffy in the morning
same as any other guy. Especially if you helped it along.
That was Narumi's whole mission these days, really. His raison d'etre, you
might say. Helping along.
This morning happened to be one of the mornings in question. The stiffy was a
corker, too. Handsome. Good posture, just like the rest of Raidou (when he was
awake and on his feet, that is). Narumi had never thought of himself as the
kind of guy to fixate on parts--he was more of a big picture man, taking in the
overall figure, though he could admire a fine set of headlights on a dame, and
a fine rear bumper on anybody, and hair was important, naturally, and
bellybuttons, now, bellybuttons were underrated. But a bellybutton had no
function, so it had damn well better be cute (Raidou's was), whereas when it
came to dicks you mainly wanted a working model, never mind the form.
Raidou's was a standout on both counts. Not to mention it was just the right
width to fit in your mouth with no trouble--if by "your mouth" you meant
"Narumi's," because nobody else was getting a lick at it, and if anybody tried
they'd be having words with the conversational end of his Luger. He sighed
through his nose and slid his lips around the head. When Raidou started
shifting his hips and making muzzy noises deep in his throat, Narumi pulled up
and went to work with just his fingers for a while, so he could lean on one arm
and watch Raidou's face and see those killer lashes cut through the last
tatters of sleep.
Then he doubled down and got back to business.
He knew Raidou was awake when the muzzy noises quit.
"Nh...."
Almost there. Not quite.
"Nn...Narumi-san--"
Best sound in the world. The big wobbly breath Raidou sucked in afterward was
pretty swell, too. As for the way his hands balled into fists on the sheets,
well, that was gratifying, but Narumi reached for one of them and put it where
it ought to be, in his own hair. The other one followed suit without any
prompting. Raidou never yanked--his manners were too good--but a little bit of
tugging and clutching was plenty mannerly. Made a fellow feel appreciated.
Narumi let out a contented hum.
After a while he let go with a slurp loud and sloppy enough to make Raidou
lurch halfway to his elbows. Beaming, Narumi cuddled his hips.
"Morning, sunshine," he purred, cheek to shaft.
Raidou shot him a look full of reproach, either for the slurping or the
stopping, or maybe both. Narumi ducked his head. He wrapped a conciliatory hand
where his mouth had been and nuzzled hello to the Kuzunoha family jewels.
Pretty soon everybody was happy again. So happy, in fact, that Raidou started
biting his bottom lip and quivering from bare head to toe with the effort not
to buck. In a fight he could outlast a hundred demons without breaking a sweat,
whereas in bed it was a red-letter day if he made it to fifty licks. But that
was youth for you. Maybe the only place he got to be an ordinary kid was
between the sheets.
Depressing thought, that. Incriminating, too. Narumi decided the best way to
forget it would be to drown his sorrows, or at least to wet his whistle. One
Raidou special, on the rocks, coming right up.
He got up to make coffee with the taste still in his mouth.
Another beautiful thing about Raidou--and there was no shortage of beautiful
things about Raidou--was his sense of fair play. Equal exchange. Reciprocity.
He understood the principle of quid pro quo: it stood him in good stead with
demons, and with people, too. Point of fact he was maybe a touch too rigorous
about it. Maybe more than a touch. So if (just for instance) you took care of
him first thing in the morning, he'd come out of the bedroom and sit down at
the table, and then he'd keep twitching and giving you funny furtive looks from
under his hat all through breakfast, like should I or shouldn't I, should I or
shouldn't I? And if (just for instance) you said to him, in a generous and
reassuring fashion, "Wouldn't want you to be late for class," it only made him
twitchier.
Narumi figured it didn't hurt any to send him to school like that--give him
some savory grist for the brain mill--but sending him out distracted to the
Dark Realm was another matter. Never let your honey go to bed mad, and never
let him go to fight monsters when he's full of the ya-yas, that was Narumi's
motto. So when Raidou got home from school and came into the agency office and
stood there like a ramrod with that glassy-eyed look on his face, Narumi folded
his newspaper and put down his cigarette and said, "C'mere."
Raidou blinked, then started toward him in a rush of something like relief. He
paused only to hurry back up the steps and let out Gouto, who was pawing with
exaggerated violence at the door.
The desk was the wrong place for a heart to heart. Narumi pushed back his chair
and went to the couch. Raidou came to sit beside him, still in ramrod mode,
hands in his lap.
Narumi asked what was eating him. Other than the obvious.
Raidou's eyes met his. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"Doing what?" Other than the obvious.
"That. In the morning." The frown was faint, but it was definitely there.
"There isn't time."
Time to return the favor, he meant. Narumi started to feel a little like a heel
for making him stew all day, even if it was a juicy thing to stew about.
"That was for you," he answered. "No, really. I know this is a tall order, but
I don't want you worrying about it. You don't have to get me back every time.
Think of it like a running tab."
Raidou looked immediately appalled. Narumi smothered a laugh and waved his
hand.
"Never mind, strike that. Bad analogy. But you can think of it like eating out
on the town, see? Sometimes I'll get the check, sometimes you'll get it,
sometimes we'll go Dutch, no worries. It all comes out in the wash." He
stretched an arm along the sofa's back. "What. You don't believe me?"
Raidou looked down at his lap, but his face was softening: the set of his jaw,
the corner of his lips.
He liked going Dutch better, he said.
Narumi huffed another laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "All right, fine.
You want to owe me one? You owe me one. Now what are you going to do about it?"
The office was the wrong place for what Raidou was going to do about it,
especially when the door was unlocked. At least Tae had the sense to knock
before barging in these days, as would most prospective clients with a shred of
common decency, but you never knew. You could never be too careful. Maybe Gouto
could sit out there playing watchdog. Watchcat. That might be too much to ask.
"The door," Narumi muttered, while he could still get his gob to work.
Without lifting his head Raidou pulled a tube from his uniform pocket and
summoned the occupant. He wasn't wearing his holster, but he kept a couple of
tubes on him at all times, just in case. Narumi thought it was sound policy,
even if he did feel all sorts of awkward sprawled there with his pants undone
and an invisible demon lurking somewhere in the vicinity.
"Incubus," said Raidou, "lock the door."
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 the older man gaping at him. "Did I mention I
have no gag reflex to speak of?"
He deep throats him again.
Peter comes a minute later.
*****
The next day Stiles sits on one hip on the hood of his jeep and lazily cheers
as Scott stabs the cambion through the heart with the dagger. As the Pack takes
care of the body and Scott cleans the knife and they chat about pizza and a
movie to celebrate, Peter struts out of the shadows and leans back against the
jeep next to Stiles.
"You going for pizza?"
"You got something better?"
"I have flatiron steak marinating. German potato salad in the fridge. And
there's chocolate cake."
Protein is nearly as good as carbs, and they can always use the sugar rush.
"And what will I owe you?" Stiles asks, but his tired dick is already twitching
in his jeans at memories of the night before and anticipation of what's coming.
"I'm feeding you, what do you think that's worth?" Peter leers at him.
Stiles leers back. "I'm sure I'll think of something in exchange for hot, juicy
meat."
Laughing, Peter heads for the passenger seat. "Get in. The sooner we eat, the
sooner we...eat."
Snorting in amusement and lust, Stiles joins him.
End
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