Archive of Our Own

This encounter of theirs had been completely different from the very start. 

Their usual meetings, the times they clashed together in a different way, had always happened as a product of Sampo's reckless selfishness and Gepard's stoicism being pushed to his limits. Sampo had delighted in flirty remarks, innuendo, way-too earnest compliments, whatever he could do to watch pink tint Gepard's skin or make him stutter, trip over his feet a little. Charming smiles and winks, brushes of his fingers over the smallest straps of skin his uniform didn't cover, all between traded blows and dodged half-hearted attacks and punches narrowly missing Sampo, handcuffs that rarely made it on his wrists.

It had spiraled out of Sampo's control during a chase, the first time being something he should've seen coming from miles away.

It had been in the Underworld, a closed off abandoned town that Wildfire kept under tight wraps. It'd been slated for demolition and reconstruction under the Supreme Guardian's order, Silvermane Guards enlisted to clear it out. Naturally, Sampo had enlisted a group of vagrants and scavengers and thieves fellow businessmen to do their own demolition work right when the Guards were recalled.

He hadn't accounted for Gepard to stay behind and make sure no one trespassed. He hadn't expected Gepard to see him, alone, and chase him into a back alley. He couldn't have possibly thought of how Gepard, alone without his precious lackeys, in a town now populated by opportunists with a violent grudge against the Silvermanes, would make him feel strangely protective.

Gepard had seemingly cornered Sampo behind a brick building, the alley blocked by debris, spouting about Sampo's trespassing and the criminal affairs he was no doubt up to. He was panting, out of breath, they both were, but Gepard was too busy trying to state Sampo's rights to hear the scavengers approaching around the corner. Sampo acted without thought, cutting Gepard's monologue short by grabbing his stupid furry collar and manhandling him. 

Sampo shoved him into the shallow alcove of a back entrance to the half deconstructed building, dust and dirt pluming around him as Gepard's back was shoved into the door. Sampo pressed Gepard into the alcove with his own body, a hand shoved over Gepard's protests. He stood on his toes as he pressed the Captain into the door, flattening him and ducking his own head down into Gepard's collar. He didn't let himself breathe at the sound of approaching voices. Gepard struggled imperceptibly, Sampo's hand circling his wrist and pinning his gauntlet between their chests.

"Hey! Y'sure you saw the Cap'n?" A gruff voice barked out just down the corridor, the sound making Gepard freeze. "You ain't fuckin' with us? Tryna cover for that Koski bastard flaking out on us?" 

"N-no, no! I swear!" A feminine, low voice squeaked out, close. Way too close. Sampo gritted his teeth and pushed his hand hard over Gepard's mouth, the back of his head digging into the door like he was trying to shove him through it. Sampo's fingers dug into Gepard's sleeve, the thin sliver of skin exposed. "I-I thought I saw Mr. Koski as well, but--"

"Screw that Koski guy, he jus' dipped with whatever he wanted." A growl, paused right at the mouth of the alley. Gepard was harsh and tense under Sampo's body. "If you not lying, maybe we could get the drop on him, the Architects' guard dog." They laughed throatily, more people than Sampo had expected, sounding out in agreement and joking about putting the Captain ‘in his place.’ 

He didn't move, not even as the voices and heavy, shambling footfalls far passed their little hiding spot. Not even as nothing but the creaking silence of the Underworld permeated for a few moments longer. It wasn't until Gepard shuffled and protested something muffled under Sampo's tight grip that he peeled his hand back, his fingers having left indents into his cheek. Still, he didn't step back, now more aware of the gauntlet he'd pinned between them and considering whether he could step away without getting knocked out. 

His laugh was stilted as he craned his neck back to look down the alley. "Talk about close calls, eh, Captain? Good thing you had ol' Sampo Koski here to keep you out of harms' way! And surely my noble act of protection should be awarded by, say, calling a truce? Maybe let bygones be bygones? You could do me the honor of postponing our little cat and mouse game just this once and letting your pal here go on his merry way, right? After all! Who knows what those dastardly brutes would've--"

"Sampo."

Whatever else he was going to ramble on with died in his throat in a low squeak at the strained sound of Gepard's voice. His first name in his mouth was enough to catch him off guard; it had always been "Koski, stop right there" and "Sampo Koski you are under arrest" and "Stop resisting arrest, criminal". But that time his name sounded rough and gutted in Gepard's teeth and Sampo could feel the puffs of breath on his face with each syllable and it'd reminded him of the hundreds, thousands of times he'd imagined Gepard saying his name in another context, sweaty and hot and blushing and tears in his eyes as he'd bite back whimpers.

Sampo had bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood to keep his thoughts from straying any further. But any attempts to will his traitorous mind into place vanished as soon as he looked at Gepard.

Gepard was looking at him. His face was close, eyes piercing and pinned onto Sampo's face. There were red marks where Sampo's fingers had been, marked into his cheeks, his lips slightly open. Sampo could feel his breath and as soon as he met Gepard's stare Gepard was all he could feel; his body was warm and hot pressed perfectly against Sampo's and the metal gauntlet was a sharp point into his chest and Sampo's knee had ended up pushed between Gepard's legs and his other hand was flat against the door, right by Gepard's head close enough he could feel the brush of his hair on his forearm. Sampo stared at Gepard's eyes, his lips his nose felt the brush of his breath on his face and recalled the countless times Sampo had been alone late at night, whimpering under his own hands as he imagined pinning the Captain just like that.

He was stuck, he couldn't move. His body willed him to tip forward but his mind wanted him to bolt out of that alley, but he knew either direction led to his destruction. He said nothing and Gepard said nothing. Sampo was hopeless until he saw Gepard's eyes hesitantly glance down to his mouth, watched Gepard's tongue just barely slide over his bottom lip and Sampo's already busted moral compass and last of his resolve broke.

He surged forward so fast and so hard his teeth clattered against Gepard's, the Captain jolting as his head slammed into the door behind him. The surprise or the pain opened Gepard's mouth just enough for Sampo to open his lips further, rolling his tongue over Gepard's, smoothing against the roof of his mouth. Gepard whined at the slight action and Sampo was so hard in his pants it felt painful. 

In the many (many many ) fantasies and wet dreams Sampo had had about this, Gepard tended to fall into the place of the blushing, shy, submissive virgin, inexperienced and moldable under Sampo's hands. The reality had quickly set in when Gepard growled and ripped his hands out from being pinned between them, the same gauntlet Sampo had seen barreling at his face countless times now grabbing his hair and pulling so hard he moaned in something both pained and pleasurable. He felt teeth as Gepard reciprocated and sucked his bottom lip and consumed his mouth until Sampo was gasping for breath. Gepard's hands were in his hair, on his hips, his chest, crawling up his stomach under his shirt, squeezing his ass, roaming Sampo like he was trying to map him out. His dreams were shattered; but, as Gepard shamelessly ground his cock down on Sampo's thigh and smoothed rough fingers over Sampo's crotch, reality was blowing all of his fantasy far out of the water.

Their first tryst had been brief, messy, rushed in a back alley with Sampo's tongue down his throat and Gepard grinding his knee up into Sampo's crotch until he embarrassingly came in his pants. Gepard's dick was barely freed from the layered confines of his uniform, Sampo barely getting his hand in his boxers before Gepard groaned, threw his head back as he came. Sampo had replayed that instance, tracing the line of Gepard's throat in his mind over and over, even as Gepard quickly tucked himself away and left with an embarrassed, shaky threat of "I'll get you next time" while practically running away on unsteady legs and with his uniform unkempt.

Gepard did, technically, 'get him next time', narrowly catching Sampo by sending ice under his feet and causing him to slip and crash into a dumpster. But since then, their chases ended one of two ways: either the usual, of them coming to blows and dodging each other's attacks until Sampo slipped away; or with Sampo pinning Gepard to a wall and fucking him senseless. 

The first time they actually fucked was when Sampo rounded a corner in the abandoned streets near the frontlines, waited for Gepard to inevitably chase him, only to grab the Captain and shove his face into a brick wall. 

"This is-- this is unbecoming, " Gepard had huffed out, glaring back at Sampo's sly smirk. "In some back alley…"

"Hey! You weren't complaining all those other times when I was on my knees instead!" Sampo laughed, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Gepard's pants were around his ankles, sticking his ass out and huffing despite his mock protests as Sampo released his fingers from Gepard and slid his dick inside instead. "B-besides," Sampo groaned, stuttering the slow slide of his hips at the warm heat around the head of his cock, the shivering body he was sinking into a delicious distraction, "You chased lil' ol Sampo in here, all alone, without alerting anyone else that a dangerous criminal such as I was on the premises? Why, that almost makes me think you chased me down for this very reason." 

Sampo's grip was, realistically, not so suffocatingly tight that Gepard couldn't move. He had been rough in return, but still pliant under Sampo's ministrations. It was only at Sampo's remark that he fought against the hand in his hair to look back at Sampo, eyes blown out and face red as he gave Sampo a very blatant, pointed look. 

His mind blanked for just a second before Sampo snapped his hips forward completely in one motion to keep himself from considering the implications. Gepard's yelp and subsequent gasps, admonishing Sampo even as he tried to grind back on his punishment before Sampo stuck his fingers in Gepard's mouth and thrust into him hard until neither of them could speak anymore.

Most of the time, it went like that; Sampo always initiating, Gepard meeting him halfway regardless and matching his energy. Sometimes it was Sampo on his knees, other times Gepard; but it was always Gepard eased open by Sampo's cock. (Except for one very, very memorable instance when Sampo broke into the office of the tired, overworked Captain with the idea of fucking him out of his stressed mind and ruining all his paperwork, only to instead end up bent over Gepard's desk and shoving his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming his name. It had been the subject of Sampo's fantasies for weeks after that.)

But, whatever this thing they had going on was always, always quick and rough and unspecified. Sampo would carry each sexual encounter in his mind until the next time they met. Sometimes he'd have dreams of Gepard in his bed, underneath him, as he undressed him agonizingly slowly and eased him open for what felt like hours. He'd always wake up rock hard and his chest aching in a different way, but Sampo knows there is a clear line he can't cross. He is fully aware that this little thing they had going on couldn't breach the confines of messy alleyway blow jobs or grinding against each other between Guards' patrol shifts. It didn't matter that he sometimes found himself more caught up staring at Gepard's eyes than anything, or that he'd started spending far too much time in the Overworld trying to even catch a glimpse of him on the street.

There is a line, but this encounter seemed to be breaking all of the boundaries Sampo thought were in play.

It had started differently, which should have been Sampo's first clue everything had changed; Gepard had been the one to find Sampo. It had been a bit after some sort of celebration, welcoming Gepard and his Guards back into the city after they spent nearly three months caught up in the ice plains, dealing with members of the Legion that had started thawing. It had been three months since Sampo had saw Gepard last, and so maybe he ended up hanging around the outskirts of the celebration, maybe hoping he could catch a glimpse of the Silvermane Captain to see he was alright with his own eyes, instead of the occasional reports from the expedition that he'd been snooping on. (Not that he had been keeping a keen ear open for any news about the Captain's wellbeing, of course.)

But he hadn't had any luck; either Gepard was lagging behind to make sure all of his Guards made it into the city safe, which was likely, or he skipped the pleasantries to get back to work, which was just as likely. Still, Sampo hung around as the sun started to set, watching everyone else disperse and keeping an eye on the front gates, just in case the former likelihood was true. He had been far too obsessed with not taking his eyes off the front gate to notice when someone came up from behind him.

There were hands grabbing his shoulders before he could react and unsheathe his daggers. He lashed out and struggled only for the assailant to grab his elbow and spin him around. Sampo was practically growling as he went to kick his attacker away and take out his blades, only for him to stop as soon as he saw blonde hair and blue eyes.

"What the fuck, " Sampo breathed out, loosening the tense line of his body. "Dude, you scared me to death! I was about to gut you like a fish." Gepard just looked at him a moment, something about the way he looked at Sampo, how he held himself, had given the conman pause. "Sorry," Gepard said, not sounding sorry at all.

"When'd you even get in the city? I didn't see you." Sampo asked instead, internally wincing when he unintentionally made it sound like he'd been specifically looking for the Captain, not wanting to admit it out loud. Gepard didn't seem to react, or maybe he didn't notice. "There's other side gates," Gepard said instead, "didn't want to deal with the fanfare. Not now, anyways." 

Sampo didn't really have anything to say to that, instead taking the chance to absorb Gepard. He wasn't in his usual over the top Silvermane regalia, instead in simple loose jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Even without all the padding of the uniform he was all broad shoulders and a strong figure, standing taller than he actually was. Gepard may be barely shorter than Sampo, but he always felt like he was towering above him, above everyone, a league so far above Sampo. His hair is mused and tussled like he'd been running his hands through it. There were the slightest bags under his eyes, a purple bruise on his cheekbone and a thin scabbed cut on his sharp jawline. From that proximity, he could see the faintest, not quite there spots of freckles over the bridge of Gepard's nose. Sampo found himself thinking that, if he'd somehow be able to convince Gepard to leave this planet with him to a sunnier, warmer one, maybe freckles would grow over the skin of his face, his shoulders. Maybe his pale complexion would give way to something warm, sunkissed and glowing. 

And that's a dangerous thought, one that makes Sampo want so bad his stomach churns, one that Sampo quickly forces out of his mind. 

He hadn’t had time to dwell on his weakness for Gepard, instead getting distracted by Gepard stepping even closer to him, calloused hands grabbing the sides of his face as he leaned up and kissed him. It was far too chaste for Sampo’s liking. He leaned forward as Gepard pulled away, the Captain’s gaze unwavering in a new way Sampo didn’t know how to describe. “I missed you.” 

Sampo gawked; he’d said it with ease, like it was nothing, not even the faintest blush on his face nor a single awkward glance away. Sampo’s mouth was dry and a million butterflies were furious in his stomach and threatening to burst out of his throat. Gepard took advantage of his short circuiting brain by grabbing his wrist and suddenly, eagerly pulling him down the street. “Come with me.” It was more a demand than a request, although Sampo would’ve obliged either way, any time, without question.

  It is right this second, as Gepard barely closes the door behind Sampo before shoving him against it and shoving his body against him, that Sampo’s brain catches up to him. 

“Wh-what’s…” Sampo gasps when Gepard spares him some breath, instead smoothing his lips along Sampo’s cheekbone, teeth scraping against his jaw, down his neck, digging bites into his collar. Everything goes out of focus for a second save for the burning trail Gepard’s teeth is leaving behind, leaving Sampo weak and wanting and struggling to figure out what the fuck he is trying to say. 

“What in the Aeons is up with you?” Gepard is dragging his jacket down from his shoulders, replacing the cloth with a bite that made Sampo wince the slightest bit. “I-I mean, I'm sure not complaining! There's nothin' better than a sexy blond trying to suck your soul outta your mouth but you’re not usually this frisky. Not that it’s--”

Gepard’s glare is electric, his pupils blown wide as he shoves two fingers in Sampo’s mouth in the small space between his words. “You talk too much,” he growls out low and Sampo’s knees feel weak. Gepard pulls his jacket down as he burns searing bites along Sampo’s collarbone who can do nothing but whimper. He swirls his tongue around Gepard’s fingers, getting a sharp inhale against his skin as a reaction. He snaps his head up and the way Gepard is looking at him makes his heart squeeze in his chest and his cock throb. He finds himself whimpering when fingers are pulled out of his mouth, a thumb pressing hard on his bottom lip and tilting his head down slightly to meet Gepard’s burning gaze. He’s practically peeling Sampo’s boneless body off the door as he pulls him further into his apartment. “Bedroom. Now. ”

Sampo, of course, knows of Gepard's apartment-- what kind of seasoned businessman would he be if he didn't? He knows well enough that Gepard lived in an unassuming, small apartment above a quaint, forgotten florist. He knows that hoards of potted plants invade every surface and spool along windowsills despite Gepard spending far more time at Serval’s workshop after hours. But his knowledge doesn’t go far beyond what he glimpsed between curtains, because he’s not supposed to be in here. 

He’s mystified, suddenly consumed by it all, the fact Gepard pulled him in so easily as if they aren’t who they are. Gepard pulls him through the entrance and the living room. Sampo watches Gepard and doesn’t notice the low coffee table until he’s kicking it, hard. “Oh fuck! ” Sampo yelps out, pulling out of the hand entwined around his wrist to bounce on his one good foot. “Ow, ow, ow, oooooh that smarts!” 

Gepard is on him again, scowling and grabbing Sampo by the shoulders. “Stop getting distracted,” he huffs out, shoving Sampo past the couch and table. He whines and pouts as Gepard practically shoves him into his barely open bedroom door. “Hey! Have some sympathy, Geppie. Your furniture just assaulted me!”

“You’re technically the perpetrator. You kicked it first.” He blinks, kicking the door closed and shaking his head. “Th-that’s not important.” Sampo opens his mouth to protest or say something more aggravating to push Gepard’s buttons, but he only lets out a squeaking noise when Gepard’s warm hands grab either side of his head, framing his face. Gepard is staring at him and his eyes are blown wide but full of something that makes Sampo feel like screaming and when Gepard pulls him in Sampo goes willingly. 

Gepard kisses him slower, this time, still heavy and intense and barely holding back. But it’s like he’s savouring every touch, every movement of Sampo’s tongue, every desperate noise he pulls out of him. Sampo clutches at his arms, fingers digging into his elbows, throwing an arm around Gepard’s shoulder to pull him closer and pushing his chest out to feel the heat of his body. Gepard smoothes his body against Sampo, pushing his back into the door as one hand falls to the open gap over his hip. But he doesn’t give in to Sampo’s attempts to speed things up, not even gasping when Sampo bites his bottom lip. 

He desperately needs to take some control otherwise he’ll come way too early; it had been three months since their last encounter, after all. His hand shakes slightly as he smooths it down Gepard’s collar, his chest, feeling the fluttering of his abs, before grabbing Gepard through his pants just barely too harshly. Gepard gasps and jolts back slightly, panting. “What do you…” He trails off as Sampo takes the opportunity to sink to his knees, catching Sampo by the shoulders before he can get far. “Y-you don’t have too.”

“I want to,” Sampo says lowly, peeling Gepard’s hands off him and sinking all the way down, his knees splayed wide to accommodate Gepard between his legs. He makes quick work of unzipping Gepard’s pants, just enough to peel his underwear down and reveal his dick. “So let me suck you off, Captain. ”

“Don’t call me tha-- AAa aaagh,” Gepard dissolves into a groan when Sampo takes Gepard into his mouth in one swift movement, nose against his pubic bone. He’s heavy on his tongue, breathing heavy and pulsing deep at the back of his throat. The feel of his mouth full and the sight of Gepard barely holding himself together, chest heaving and his head thrown back, makes learning to suppress his gag reflex absolutely worth it. 

Gepard’s thighs are quivering, Sampo feeling his restraint as he digs his fingers into flesh just under his ass. He can’t help his own groans as he slides his lips up and down Gepard’s cock, his tongue circling the head of his dick every time he leans back before taking Gepard as far down his throat as he can. Gepard moans, a hand falling to Sampo and tingling fingers in his hair, just barely pulling. Sampo whimpers at the slight pain, gulping around the hot length down his throat and feeling Gepard tense above him.

The next thing he knows his head is back against the wall, Gepard thrusting forward. He chokes and instantly palms at his own heat, gyrating his hips up as tears spring at the corners of his eyes. But then Gepard is gone, leaving him open mouthed and gasping, eyes bleary. 

“Sh-shit, shit!” Gepard cusses, leaning down and smoothing his hand over Sampo’s forehead, pushing his hair back as he holds his jaw. “Fuck, Sampo, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to--”

“Do it again.” His voice is harsh and coarse, his throat feeling raw and fuck he didn’t think he’d like that. Gepard is staring at him, face red. “Wh-what did you say?”

“You can do it again,” he says, more sure this time. “Fuck my mouth all you want, Captain.” He puts his head back against the wall, opens his mouth and watches Gepard’s jaw drop and eyes darken.

Gepard doesn’t oblige, though. Instead he suddenly yanks Sampo up, spinning him around quickly and making his head spin as he’s practically thrown on the bed. “H-hey, what the--” Gepard is on him in an instant, shoving his tongue in Sampo’s mouth as he presses him into the mattress. He leans back, knees on the bed as he suddenly pulls his sweater up over his head and reveals the smooth plains of muscle, painted over with scars and a few recent scrapes. The sight of him is distracting, especially as he stands up and starts yanking his pants down and Sampo is sure he’s going to die before Gepard snaps him out of it.

“Take your clothes off, Sampo.” He growls it out like an order. “Now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Sampo giggles and salutes, shucking his jacket off quickly. Gepard grabs the edge of his shirt underneath and yanks it up over his head like he’s trying to strangle him. “Mhhph, hey!” He gives a muffled protest but Gepard is gone. He pulls his shirt off to find Gepard at the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. 

“Stop calling me that.” He says it without much heat, more preoccupied in wrestling his pants off and sighing as he kicks off his boxers. He looks up to see Sampo watching him intently from where he's sat on the bed, twisted awkwardly so he doesn't miss any of Gepard. The blush over his shoulders, his cheeks, impossibly deepens but he doesn't shy away from how Sampo's eyes rake over him.

"Calling you what?" Sampo feigns innocence, tilting his head just slightly. Sampo stands, walks around the bed towards Gepard. "Captain?" He purrs out, grabbing the small bottle from Gepard's hand. Gepard wrinkles his nose and frowns, any protests he was going to say cut off when Sampo shoves him back onto the bed. 

He's a sight to behold, laid out in the thick, puffy covers and the way-too-many pillows on Gepard's bed. A distant part of Sampo's mind realizes they've never been fully naked in front of each other, always in partial states of undress or rutting against each other fully dressed. Something bubbles between his ribs and constricts his heart as he looks at the smooth planes of Gepard's muscles, old and recent scars over his shoulders, arms, his chest. His thick legs quiver and Sampo's fingers sink into hard muscles as he slots himself between Gepard's legs.

"I've told you," Gepard breathes, his furrowed brow shaking, "not to call me Captain when we have sex."

"But why?" Sampo hums out so innocently. He leans over Gepard, bottle tucked in his back pocket as he runs his hands over Gepard's skin, feeling the smooth skin broken up by rough divets of scars. Gepard shivers as he ghosts his fingers over his ribs, his pecs, his pubic bones. When Sampo flattens his tongue over warm skin, faint hair just below his navel, Gepard let's out a withering groan.

"What's wrong, Captain? " He growls it out, grinning against skin. His fingers are painfully faint brushing over the inside of his thighs, just barely wrapping his fingers around Gepard's cock. Gepard whines when Sampo lets go, eyes blown wide as he watches Sampo open the bottle and rub lube between his fingers.

"Is it embarrassing?" He murmurs, watching Gepard ravenously as he circles a slick finger around his asshole, just barely sinking in. "The Silvermane Captain, the Shield of Belebog, spreading his legs for a criminal?" Gepard shivers, gasps and groans as Sampo pumps his finger in, quickly adding a second. Sampo watches the way his mouth opens on wordless groans, the pinch of his brow, the shaking rise and fall of his chest. Sampo rubs his fingers on Gepard's warm inner walls, scissors his fingers and gets a high pitched whine in response. When Gepard shoves his fist in his mouth to silence himself Sampo quickly grabs his arm.

"No, I want to hear you, Captain Gepard. " He accentuates his name by wrapping his fingers around Gepard's neglected cock, roughly, slowly stroking him as he inserts a third finger. Gepard is a mess, hair splayed over the bedsheets and matted to his forehead with sweat. He pants against Sampo's lips, chasing him for a sloppy open mouth kiss. He scowls and groans as Sampo leans back, running his tongue over his lips as he watches Gepard, feels his weeping cock spilling over his fingers.

"No one--" Sampo suddenly bites his tongue, hard enough to taste blood, to keep himself from spitting out what he can't say. He sings it like a mantra in his brain, ruthlessly thrusting his fingers into Gepard and abusing his prostate. Gepard is gorgeous, broad shoulders quivering, his hips gyrating towards Sampo, his eyes blown out black and fingers digging into Sampo's arms. No one else , Sampo wants to say. No one else can see this. No one else but me. Only me. 

"Fuck," Sampo hisses between his teeth. His own cock is aching, painful in the horrible confines of his pants. He doesn't give himself any relief, only and entirely focused on Gepard. "Tell me, Gepard. Did you miss this, out on the front lines? Did you spend your nights wishing you were speared on my cock? Or did you have some Guards to sate you? To replace me?"

He doesn't mean to say it so bitterly, doesn't mean to growl it out, to sound almost gutted. But he does and it makes his stomach sink when Gepard's eyes blow wide open, intense on his face. Sampo stills, leans back as if to… apologize? Run? He doesn't know, but suddenly Gepard is surging up, grabbing his arms, wincing as Sampo pulls his fingers out of his hole. "Geppie--"

"Enough," he grinds the words between his teeth, switching their positions as he shoves Sampo towards the bed. "Why the fuck are your pants still on? Off. Now."

"Aeons, you're bossy. Can't even say please?" Sampo teases but obliges anyways, kicking his shoes off and wiggling onto the bed towards the headboard as he struggles out of his pants. It's a surge of relief as he slides out of his boxers, wet from his leaking dick. "Mission accomplished, sir. The pants have been removed." Gepard doesn't give him a response, grabbing his legs and dragging them off the end of the bed. "What's the plan, Captain?" He says, going to stand up. "What are you--"

“If you call me Captain one more time I will leave.” Gepard is being absolutely, completely serious, glaring at Sampo in a way that makes him gulp and hope Gepard doesn’t notice the way his cock throbs. Unfortunately, Sampo can’t resist pushing Gepard’s buttons. “That’s beyond cruel! You wouldn’t leave me here, would you? Alone in your bed. Who knows what I might do-- Oof! ”

Gepard shoves him down, Sampo sinking into the mattress and down pillows suffocating him. He fakes gagging, shoving them off his face. “Why do you have so many stupid pillows? I’d almost guess you’re trying to smother… me…” Sampo trails off, voice getting weak when Gepard practically crawls over him, sitting high on Sampo’s thighs, his dick nearly flush with Sampo's. The ceiling light is behind Gepard’s head and it makes his golden hair look like it’s glowing and if Sampo wasn’t so painfully hard at the sight of him he would’ve thought he’d died.

“You talk…” Gepard hums, eyes half-lidded. He’s drinking every inch of Sampo’s skin in, he realizes, jumping at warm hands sliding over his chest, his abs, his pubic bone. Sampo’s never felt so exposed. It makes his ribs constrict around his lungs. “...way too much.” Gepard licks his lips and Sampo wants to pin his tongue between his teeth.

He tries to sit up but Gepard is quick to shove him back down, his forearm shoved across Sampo’s collar as he pins him to the bed. Sampo feels lightheaded. “G-Geppie, if you don’t get on with. Whatever this is. I am going to lose my fucking mind.” Sampo wiggles and finds Gepard’s weight on him keeping him trapped. He suddenly feels Gepard’s other hand on his dick, fingers swiping at the pooled precum at the head, and he lets out a pathetic low noise in the back of his throat. “Holy fuck hurry up-- ”

“Hey,” Gepard murmurs against Sampo’s skin, teeth against his jaw before he sits up, a hand over Sampo’s mouth. He grins in a cocky way Sampo has never seen as he hovers over Sampo, guiding his cock to his asshole, and Sampo is desperately trying to commit every inch of his flesh to memory. “Just shut up for once and enjoy the ride. Or you can scream all you want, if you can’t be quiet.”

He starts to sink, slowly, tight warm heat enveloping Sampo and making him groan under Gepard’s palm. Gepard’s head is thrown back, throat laid bare.

Sampo’s muffled giggling under Gepard’s hand makes him pause, confused and tilting his head to the side at the gleeful look in Sampo’s eyes. Gepard uncovers his mouth and Sampo’s grinning like a madman. “Enjoy the ride, you say?” Gepard just blinks a moment before it clicks, Sampo’s laughter becoming a cackle as Gepard groans in a different way, shaking his head. 

“Don’t ruin the moment, Koski,” Gepard barks out, but he’s fighting off a smile too. Sampo smiles back at him, genuine, opening his mouth to say something -- only to have all breath punched out of his lungs when Gepard slams his ass down flush in one sudden movement. 

Sampo shakes at the sudden sensation, a moan ripped out of his throat. He grabs at Gepard's legs, his nails digging into the meat of his thighs. Gepard is making a gutted, rough gasp for air in the back of his throat, eyes pinched shut and mouth open slightly like he's savouring the feeling. Sampo is glad for his stillness, fighting every bone in his body not to desperately fuck up into Gepard and cum in seconds. His body is pure heat wrapped around his cock, the pulsing of his walls as Gepard adjusts to the sudden intrusion making Sampo dig crescent scratches into Gepard's thighs.

He doesn't give Sampo enough time, though, suddenly rolling his hips and making Sampo shiver, head digging back into the pillows and eyes rolling shut. He looks back at Gepard, not willing to look away from him, just as Gepard lifts himself up and slams himself back down again. 

He sets a cruel, haphazard pace, lifting his hips and slamming himself back onto Sampo's cock, rolling his hips. Sampo can't take it, trying to meet Gepard and slam himself up into Gepard's tight heat, to sit up and bite his lips, to do anything. But Gepard pushes him down, drags his nails over his chest just shy of his nipples, pins him down with a scrutinizing look under the lust in his eyes. 

"Th-three months." Sampo doesn't realize Gepard is speaking between the sighs and groans, fixated on running his hands over Gepard's sculpted legs, his abs, the wet erratic sound of their flesh slapping together. "Three months," Gepard groans out, gyrating his hips and sending Sampo impossibly deeper into him. 

He shakes and falls forward onto Sampo when he his his prostate, his breath wet and warm puffed out on his face. Sampo is transfixed, absolutely captivated as Gepard continues to grind into him. He's so close, the pinch of his eyebrows, the fluttering of his eyes under his tightly shut eyelids, Gepard's cock pinned between them. There's guttural noises being pulled from between his teeth as he uses Sampo to massage his prostate.

"Three en… entire months," he whines out desperately again and Sampo actually hears him, the implications making him short-circuit. Gepard opens his eyes to see Sampo staring and he must see something in Sampo's face because he suddenly surges forward and sucks on Sampo's bottom lip. He diligently opens his mouth, urgent as he kisses back, delighted to let Gepard brush his tongue over the roof of his mouth, across his teeth. 

"Do you…" Gepard whimpers out between Sampo's lips, his hands on either side of his face. "Do you kn-know what you do to me?" Sampo shivers at the whisper of his voice, grabbing Gepard's hips and slamming himself up unto him. Gepard makes a choked noise, thighs quivering. Sampo can feel his cock leaving pre-cum pooling on his stomach. 

Gepard sits back up, Sampo desperately chasing his lips and whining when Gepard pushes his shoulders back. "G-Geppie, please-- " 

"You asked if I thought of you," he says, sounding way too stern, not nearly as wrecked as Sampo feels. Sampo recalls his words and anxiety whirls in his gut, but is instantly chased away when Gepard lifts himself until only the head of Sampo's cock is inside him, slamming back down and making him choke out Gepard's name. He sets a brutal pace, gasping and lifting completely off each time, Sampo desperate and unable to keep his hands off him. 

"I did," Gepard says like it's a confession. He's staring so intently, Sampo can't look away. "You've fucked me over, do you know that? Do you know what you do to me?" 

Sampo doesn't hear himself begging, whining, tears in the corners of his eyes. "Please, please G-Geppie, Aeons please please--"

"I could never " --he slams down, hard, and Sampo sees stars-- " ever. Have anyone else now. Do you get th-that?"

"G-Gepard," his name feels like a prayer, a sin in Sampo's mouth. Heat pools in his stomach, makes him shake and thrust his hips up without rhythm. "N-n-no… no one. Only… f-fuck only y--" 

"So many t-times alone trying to imagine you," Gepard is gasping too, sweaty and leaking, "pretend y-you were touch me, that my fingers w-were yours. Aeons, I can't cum if I don't think of you." 

Sampo wants to cry, to scream, to confess that Gepard is everything now. He wants to say he feels the same, that he sees Gepard, unraveling underneath him every time he closes his eyes. He wants to describe every time Sampo would pleasure himself while Gepard was on that stupid patrol, how many times he'd chant Gepard's name and cum with it choked in his throat. He wants to confess more, that he imagines waking up beside him and kissing him slow without rush and curling up into him. He wants so desperately to admit that Gepard has carved his way through his skin, imbedded himself into his bones. But every sound he makes is a whimper, a groan. "G-Gepard, Gepard G-Gep Gep oh fuck fuck. " I love you I love you I love you .

Gepard hovers over him, each roll of his hips sending lightning shooting up Sampo's cock and through his whole body. He smooths a hand over the hair sticking to his forehead, pulls at his hair and illicits a whimper from Sampo's lips. He wipes at tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and leaves searing kisses over his neck, marks into his jaw. He bites at his earlobe. "I wondered," his breath puffs out against his ear as Sampo drags desperate fingers over his back, "did you find someone else while I was gone? Did you fuck someone else? Make someone else moan as you tore them apart--"

" No!" Sampo screams it out, too loud, shaking his head violently. His vision is blurry, delirious, Gepard pausing in shock just before Sampo bursts. His hips hopelessly chase his orgasm, but the thought of it, seeking anyone else out besides Gepard, is agonizing. "N-no, nonono I couldn't. No one… no one else." 

Gepard is staring. He's staring and his face is red and eyes wide and he looks genuinely shocked. Sampo hates it. He puts a hand at the nape of Gepard's neck and drags him down, pressing against his forehead. He slides his other hand down Gepard's spine, down his ass, fingering Gepard beside his own cock. Gepard shivers, arms shaking where they frame Sampo's head. Sampo starts thrusting up again, punching quick noises from Gepard. "Only… only you," Sampo feels the need to repeat it, admit it to himself and Gepard. "I-I can't… imagine anyone fucking you but me. " 

Gepard looks… blissful. Underneath the red heat of his skin and huffed noises and blown-out irises, he looks pleased. Sampo feels him move, matching his rhythm and making heat begin to unfurl in his gut, his movements erratic.

" Good ." Sampo can feel teeth over his jaw, lips by his ear. "Now come inside me."

Sampo can't resist, his movements desperate as he fucks deep into Gepard, hips stilling as he yells out his name, burying himself deep into Gepard as he cums inside. He's shaking, his orgasm hitting him harder than ever before as he gasps to catch his breath, his arm thrown over his eyes.

But Gepard doesn't stop. Sampo whimpers hopelessly, feeling the impossibly wet slide of Gepard's ass around him and sending overestimated electric pins and needles lighting up his nerves. It's too much and everything and not enough and Gepard is stealing his breath again, pulling his arm off his face, touching every inch of him. 

Sampo grabs Gepard's cock stuck between them and Gepard jolts like he's been electrocuted. It only takes a few pulls before Gepard is tensing, gasping. "Sampo, S-Sampo, Sampo," he chants desperately before groaning, cum spilling between Sampo's fingers onto his chest, his stomach. He tightens around Sampo's spent cock and makes him hiss between his teeth. 

Gepard takes a moment, eyes closed and breathing heavy above Sampo. He eventually lights himself up, Sampo spilling out of him, and collapses beside Sampo in the bed.

"Okay, don't take this as a complaint."

It had taken them a couple minutes to recuperate, some sort of comfortable silence Sampo wasn't used to. Gepard had eventually stood up on shaky legs that filled Sampo with a strange sense of pride, vanishing into the bathroom and returning with a rag. It was almost… tender, the way Gepard wiped him down, holding his gaze. He hadn't said anything yet, even as he slipped on a clean pair of boxers and threw sweatpants at Sampo. 

"But…" Sampo hums, fiddling with Gepard's fingers. He laid on Gepard's chest, now, amid the few remaining pillows and sheets they hadn't shoved off the bed. "What, uh, was that about?" 

Gepard hums against Sampo's head, a slow exhale ruffling his hair. Before, they hadn't really lingered after their… encounters. So he hadn't expected Gepard to be so lethargic, content to close his eyes and sink into Sampo. He doesn't say anything, leaving Sampo to flounder. "I-I mean, I'm definitely not complaining! It's just that I'm… in your house. And still here. And wearing your sweatpants. And… uh." 

He bites his lip to keep from saying too much, feeling Gepard shuffle, clear his throat. "I…" his voice is rough, although not nearly as bad as Sampo's scratchy, sore throat. "I just… while away from Belobog, I guess I just. Started thinking about what I want." 

"And what's that?" There's a thin, silver lying scare on the back of Gepard's hand, smooth under Sampo's fingers. 

"I… like you. I guess."

Sampo blinks, letting Gepard's stilted words make his chest warm, before frowning and lifting his head up to look at Gepard. "Excuse me? You guess? " 

Gepard is red, not meeting Sampo's eyes. Sampo laughs, sitting up fully. "So you only guess you like me? After all this?" 

"Aeons, you know what I mean!" Gepard drags a hand over his face, sending Sampo a withering look. "I-I just. I like you a lot . More than just… Whatever it is we have going on. And I want you around more and to actually stay the night and more than just a quick f-fuck in a gross alley way. Okay?"

Sampo is absolutely elated, no doubt smiling like an absolute fool. He laughs, grabbing Gepard's face and feeling the heat of his blush under his palms. Gepard is forced to look at him, eyes lighting up when he does. 

"Aw, Geppie! You are so cute when confessing." Gepard makes a choked, muffled sound that makes Sampo laugh harder. He starts pressing open smiles, awkward kisses over Gepard's cheeks, his nose, his forehead. It somehow makes him blush harder. "Really? You just forced my soul out of my body through my dick and you're embarrassed now? "

"Aeons, don't say it like that!" Sampo kisses Gepard's furrowed brow, earning a smack on the shoulder. 

"I like-like you too, by the way," Sampo hums out when he realizes he technically didn't reciprocate, dropping his head on Gepard's shoulder and feeling him relax just the slightest bit more. Gepard let's out a sigh, staring down as Sampo intertwines their fingers. "Okay…Okay… good." 

"...also, if you don't want me breaking a window by accident you should give me a key to your apartment."

"... I'll get a second key made tomorrow."