Archive of Our Own ^beta

They've barely made it back to the garage when Peco launches himself at Zack, throwing his arms around his shoulders and lifting himself up on his tiptoes. Zack's hands slide over Peco's hips, to the small of his back, wrapping around him and holding him close, helping him keep his balance.

"You were amazing." Peco is still breathless from dancing, chest a steady rise and fall against Zack's.

"You were pretty amazing yourself." Zack is his own kind of breathless, the kind born from elation and terror. He's sore in all new places, and will probably be feeling even more new hurts by tomorrow. Not just the physical; neither of them have allowed themselves to dwell on Kaito's departure. He's not sure when he will let that sink in, if he'll be the first one to feel it, or if it will be Peco. He doesn't know which one of them will have to comfort and which one will need the comforting first, just that it will happen both ways at some point.

But right now he has Peco wrapped up in his arms, Peco's arms around his neck, and Peco's breaths brushing against his ear, and that's as far as he's allowing himself to think.

"I wish you'd been up there with me," Peco pulls back a little, so that he can meet Zack's gaze. "Dancing beside me."

Zack swallows, losing himself in those bright eyes for a moment. He tightens his grip on Peco. "I had to protect you... your dance."

He lifts Peco up off his feet a bit. He's always amazed by how light Peco is, especially now it seems, after what they've been through, after what he's been through.

"Put me down!" Peco squeaks, and wraps his arms more firmly around Zack's shoulders, kicking his feet a bit. He's laughing though, and Zack knows he's not serious. He knows how much Peco trusts him. How much they trust each other.

Zack walks with Peco still lifted up in his arms over to one of the tables. He sets his little butt down as gently as he can, doesn't drop him, or bump his thighs against the edge. Peco leans back a little, loosens his grip on Zack's shoulders, and slides his hands down Zack's chest.

"Armored Rider Knuckle, huh?" Peco's eyes are following the path of his own hands as his palms glide down Zack's vest to his belt. He's still wearing the driver, and Peco hesitates before he touches it, like something might happen if he does. It doesn't have a face plate, like Kaito's did. Does. And he wonders briefly if others can use it. If maybe someday... no, best not to think about that. He's not strong enough for something like that.

"It just came to me." Zack feels the back of his neck growing warm as Peco touches him, as he gazes at the driver. It still feels a bit like a dream, like it just couldn't be real. That none of it could be real. Him an Armored Rider, them dancing together with Team Gaim, Kaito retiring from Team Baron, Team Baron being left in his and Peco's care.

Peco's fingers glide lightly over the driver, over the blade switch, the socket for the lock seed, the slot for the handle. Zack reaches out hesitantly and touches Peco's elbow as gently as he can manage.

"How's your arm?" This is the first time Peco's danced since his injury, and even through the battle, Zack was aware of the elaborate arm gestures and sweeping motions Peco was doing, up on that stage Zack was protecting.

"It's fine." Peco smiles, his hand still hovering over the driver. "A little tender, but there's no real pain."

Zack nods, about to say something, some words of pride and comfort, when Peco's hand moves lower, when his fingertips trace the shape of his hip through his clothes. The words die before his brain can even properly form them, and he loses even the vaguest thread of them when Peco looks up at him, a lopsided smile on his lips and mischief in his eyes. Zack's hands tighten at Peco's sides just as Peco's legs spread wide, inviting him closer.

Zack doesn't need to think to take that invitation. He nestles in closer, tips his head down, and brings their foreheads together. Peco looks up at him, all half lidded eyes and lips slightly parted, the face he always makes when he wants a kiss, but doesn't want to ask or take it for himself.

"Peco." Zack lifts his hands and cups Peco's face, then he kisses him. Peco's parted lips invite the kiss to deepen almost the moment it starts, and all the energy, all the lingering adrenalin from the battle rushes through him, ignited again. They've shared many kisses, desperate and lingering, soft and rough, but nothing quite like this before. Peco's hand goes still and his eyes close and he makes this soft sound into Zack's mouth that almost makes Zack growl.

The kiss alone is enough to make his dick begin to harden, but then very suddenly Peco's hand is cupping him through his trousers, and his hips jerk forward before he even has a moment to consider the action. He breaks the kiss with a small gasp, blinking rapidly to bring his vision back into focus.

"Peco."

Their foreheads are still touching, and now Peco is biting his bottom lip, his eyes all but sparkling as he rubs a circle with his palm. "It was really... exciting. Watching you fight."

Zack breathes out a slow breath, trying to keep himself from panting; it's too early for that. Peco shifts on the table, squirms around a bit, and one glance down tells Zack exactly why. He moves one of his hands down from Peco's face and cups the small but growing bulge between his narrow little hips, smiling when Peco's bottom lip trembles.

"That exciting, huh?" Zack presses down, feels the heat there against his palm, even through the fabric. He smiles when this only makes Peco squirm more, makes him flush slightly, just a touch of pink dusting across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. The thought of Peco getting hard from watching him fight is... well it's something else. Something he'll have to remember for later, keep in mind, maybe try not wait so long until they're alone next time.

If there is a next time.

"Been excited for that long? Since the fight?" Zack presses firmly against Peco's hardness with the heel of his palm and gives him one slow firm rub.

Peco whines softly, his own hand trembling where it still rests over Zack's growing bulge, his other hand coming up to tightly grip to Zack's sleeve. He nods, blushing harder - or maybe that's just the heat between them coloring his face - and doesn't quite manage to meet Zack's eyes.

Zack rubs a slow circle and leans in a little closer. He brushes at Peco's nose with his own, trying to get him to look up at him, to meet his eyes properly. "Even while you were dancing?"

Peco's eyes flit up and finally meet Zack's gaze once more. He licks his bottom lip and nods again, then detaches his fingers from Zack's coat and moves his hand back down to the driver. At first he just presses his palm flat to the empty socket for the lock seed, his thumb resting over the blade switch. But as Zack's hand keeps pressing and rubbing - slow, so slow - and his dick gets harder beneath Zack's palm, he moves his fingers over to the switch and wraps his forefinger and thumb loosely around the blade.

Zack looks down, notes the way Peco's fingers are looped around the lever, and just that is enough to send a strange little thrill through him.

But then Peco's fingers start to glide along the blade. First up to the point, then back down to the hilt. He's shaking slightly, like a low vibration running through him, and his fingers are trembling. Zack's pretty sure Peco's not even entirely aware of what his hand is doing, not with how much he's twitching from the steady press and glide of Zack's hand, but he keeps doing it, keeps moving his fingers up and down the switch. After a few steady strokes like that he wraps a few more fingers around it, grips a little tighter, and sweeps his thumb over the point.

Zack actually groans, soft and low, as he watches Peco's fingers move, as his thumb circles the blade's tip a few more times. Peco is shifting a bit on the table, rocking his hips into Zack's hand, his butt sliding back and forth on the glossy surface. He's always a little twitchy, but get him aroused and he becomes a body possessed with energy. He's certainly aroused now, fully hard beneath Zack's gliding hand, his dick straining against his clothes.

"Zack," Peco whimpers, speaking with his lips right against Zack's. "Zack. Oh."

Peco's whole hand is wrapped around the driver's switch now, stroking and twisting. His other hand has fallen to his own lap, nails scratching at his thigh, gripping the fabric of his trousers. Peco has barely touched Zack at all, and he's already just as hard as him, just from watching Peco, from watching Peco's hand jerk off his driver.

Zack's hand moves upward to the buckle of Peco's belt. He fumbles just a little, mostly from how much Peco is moving around, before getting it undone. He makes quick work of the closure of Peco's pants, then wraps one arm around Peco's middle and lifts him up an inch or two off the table, so he can yank Peco's trousers and briefs down around his thighs. He can't get them off further than that yet, not with how close they are to one another, and he's reluctant to detach Peco's hand from his driver just yet.

Peco sucks in a sharp little breath through clenched teeth when his dick bobs free of his underwear. Zack has to swallow to keep himself at least somewhat centered; Peco looks almost painfully hard, and if Zack's to believe how long he's been turned on, that's probably not far from the truth.

He settles Peco back down on the table, and returns his hand to Peco's dick. He groans at how hot it is against his palm, savoring just touching him for a moment before he slowly starts to move his hand.

He's matching the pace of Peco's strokes on his driver without even meaning to.

"How long can you hold out?" Zack's voice has dropped since he last spoke, gone all thick and raspy. He wants to make Peco come, but he doesn't want this to be over too soon. Peco is squirming from his touch, panting against his lips, and making a series of soft, whimpery, needy little sounds. Zack twists his hand and Peco practically yelps, eyes going wide.

"A little while." Peco kisses Zack sloppily, moaning into his mouth before breaking it just as quickly as he started it. "Want... Zack... please."

It's the tone of his plea that lets Zack know exactly what Peco wants. He groans, a mix of need and mild frustration. Getting from here to there will take a few moments of disentanglement, and Zack is hesitant to detach himself from Peco. He gives Peco one more kiss before steeling himself, trying not to focus on the way Peco whines when he draws his hand away, as he pulls the driver out of Peco's grip.

Peco's got his shoes off and has wiggled his pants and underwear away before Zack has even finished with his own belt, his shoes kicked unceremoniously under the table. He watches Peco's nails drag along his own thighs as he gets his trousers off, remembering to snag a condom from one of his back pockets beforehand. He holds the packet between his teeth, hands moving to take the driver off.

"No!" Peco's voice is so sharp it echoes through the garage, stilling Zack's hands. "No. No leave it on."

Zack gives him a lopsided grin, and moves his fingers instead to the buttons of his vest. It takes a bit of work, but he manages to get his vest and shirt open around the driver, and leaves them and his coat on, but open. Peco follows his lead, fingers practically tearing his buttons off in his haste to get his own vest and shirt open.

Zack pulls a chair closer to the table, then sits, legs slightly spread. He leans forward and wraps his arms around Peco's hips, then slides him off the table and down into his lap, settling him onto his thighs. Their dicks brush against one another, and they both groan. Zack's low, practically guttural; Peco's high pitched and full of need.

Prep doesn't take long, not with how needy Peco already is, not with the practice they've had together. Zack is mildly amazed that Peco manages to get the condom from him and slide it on him, even with how he squirms in his lap from the twists and thrusts of Zack's fingers. After one particularly deep twist Peco lunges forward, grabbing at the collar of Zack's shirt and hiding a moan in a firm kiss.

"Zack," Peco's speaks against Zack's lips, his words breathless and thick. "Please."

Much as he loves to tease Peco, Zack's feeling especially needy himself. So he guides Peco forward, and with one hand guides his dick to Peco's hole. He goes slowly as he slides inside him, his head bowing forward, forehead pressing to Peco's shoulder as he groans. They hover like that for a moment, at that slow glide, until Peco grows impatient and drives his hips down, taking Zack's entire length inside him in one swift motion.

The whimpering moan Peco's lets out makes Zack lift his head, makes him pull back and search Peco's face. His cheeks are flushed and his lips swollen and parted, his eyes wide, pupils dilated.

Zack brings his hand up to brush fingers across Peco's cheek. He cups his face, thumb brushing over Peco's cheekbone. "You okay?"

"Oh," Peco bites his lip, and nods rapidly. They aren't moving yet, but Peco is practically quivering in his lap, all twitchy, squirmy energy. He looks down, and catches sight of his erection pressing against Zack's driver, and he moans. "Oh."

Zack follows Peco's gaze, and even he has to groan at that sight. Peco's dick, hard with need, pressed against the empty lock socket, the blade of the driver brushing against it with each heavy breath Zack draws in. He doesn't understand why that sight is so sexy, but it is, and it only gets more so when Peco's hand moves between them, when his narrow fingers wrap around both his dick and the lever. His hands grip Peco's hips, thumbs pressing against the narrow bumps of bone. His long fingers are spread out over the small of his back, and, with how thin Peco is, his fingertips can almost dig into the line of his spine.

Peco begins to slowly stroke himself, and the driver's blade, and Zack gasps as hard as he would if Peco were touching his own dick. That thought, and that sight, spurs Zack forward, makes his hips start to move.

He rolls up into Peco, not far, with how deep he's already buried inside him, but the movement still makes Peco jump in his lap. With the grip he has on Peco's hips he lifts him up, almost slides right out of him, and then he jerk his hips upwards, and guides Peco down, and the fire that's burning in his gut flares hotter.

"Zack," Peco's gasping, his breaths coming in sharp little bursts as Zack begins to start up a rhythm. Peco does his best to match Zack's thrusts with his strokes, but it's difficult, with how hard his heart is beating, how every thrust fights to drag a high pitched moan from his lips. His free hand moves to rest against Zack's chest, fingers splayed wide, and then he slides his palm up, pressing firmly against his sternum. He can feel Zack's heart thundering under his touch, feel his muscles strain with every gasping breath he inhales.

Zack's thrusts are starting to lose their rhythm, and eventually he has to let Peco take over. He doesn't quite go still, he keeps his hips moving as much as he can, but Peco is practically bouncing in his lap now, and he doesn't have to worry about controlling the friction between them anymore. He keeps one hand at the base of Peco's spine while the other slides as far as it can up Peco's back beneath his shirt, then he tugs it free to continue the rest of the way up Peco's back. He grabs at Peco's hair, not hard, not tugging, just gripping, and guiding, until he can catch Peco's lips in a series of hungry kisses, each of them punctuated by a small peck and a gasp for breath.

Peco knows when Zack's about to come because he starts breathing through clenched teeth, hissing gasps and tight closed eyes. It made him insecure at first, the way Zack would close his eyes. He'd wonder if Zack was thinking about someone else. Kaito, maybe. If in his mind he was somewhere else entirely. He still wonders this, vaguely, sometimes, but Zack always says his name, so it doesn't really matter.

And now, as always, as Zack's hips jerk hard, his eyes flying open, wide and hungry and dazed, and he looks right at Peco, right at his face, as his climax burns through him. He doesn't moan, doesn't cry out. His lips part in a silent breathless gasp. His hips work through his orgasm, jerking thrusts slowing gradually until he goes still, and he pulls Peco down against his chest, arms wrapping tight around him and holding him so close Peco almost can't breathe. He doesn't let go until the last waves of pleasure have burned out of him.

Peco settles back a bit, Zack's dick still inside him, and smiles. Zack meets his gaze, meets his smile with one of his own, lazy and almost dreamy from the aftershocks of his pleasure. After a moment Peco glances down, his cheeks going even darker than the flush already coloring them.

Zack follows his gaze. Peco's still hard, his erection still pressed against the driver, his hand still working at his dick with slow, even strokes.

"Here," Zack holds Peco in his lap with one steadying hand, while he other moves to brush Peco's hand away. He wraps his own grip around Peco's dick and begins stroking him, making sure the head brushes against the driver with the motions of his hand.

Peco is a loud little thing. Not curses or coherent words, but whining gasps and moans so loud his voice cracks from them. He keeps his eyes open, keeps them fixed on the sight of his hardness in Zack's hand, the sight of his dick being jerk off against the driver. Zack's driver. One of his hands grips at Zack's shoulder, to keep himself steady, - as if Zack would ever let him fall - and the other moves between them. It doesn't join Zack's hand, doesn't help with the strokes, instead it wraps around the blade of the driver again, and begins moving it in time with the rhythm of Zack's hand.

"Zack," Between the motions of Zack's hand, and the feel of the driver lever in his grip, he can't hold out any longer. He shouts as he comes, as his dick jerks in Zack's hand. His whole little body tenses up through the duration, goes still as white hot pleasure shorts out his brain for a moment, erases everything else but the feeling of bliss and closeness with Zack.

Peco's gasping breaths slowly ease into small pants. He shakes his head, sweat soaked bangs clinging to his forehead. He glances around, the room beyond Zack slowly coming back into the focus of reality, and then he looks down, and sees the sticky mess he's left all over Zack's driver, and the lower part of his chest. His flushed cheeks darken again, but then he laughs, and Zack can't help getting caught up with his laughter, chuckling along with him.

"I think we need a shower." Peco's voice is sheepish and small, and it makes Zack's laugh turn warm and gentle. Not that it was mocking before- but laughing at how much of a messy state they're in, and laughing happily with his best friend, those are two different very different things.

Zack grips at Peco's hair again and guides his face down, until their lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss. Peco giggles against his mouth after the kiss breaks, bumps their foreheads, and brushes their noses together.

Ryouma leans back in his chair as the feed cuts out, signaling the removal of the driver from its user. To think that he had actually debated whether or not setting up an audio feed with the mass produced Sengoku drivers would be beneficial; this new rogue Armored Rider and his enthusiastic young friend had provided quite the hour of entertainment.

He closes his eyes, remembering the echo of their youthful cries, the vibrations of their moans through his headphones. It bring old memories to his mind, memories of youthful trysts and spontaneous rendezvous. After a long pause, he sits forward in his chair again, reaching for the call button on his keyboard, the one that opens his most private channel.

"Takatora, please come down to the lab." After an affirmative sound from his old friend, he releases the call button, but only briefly, hitting it again quick enough so that he catches Takatora before he leaves his office. "And bring your driver."