Chapter Text
Both of them try to head back inside to the party and stick around it's edges for a while. It doesn't work very well.
Gepard kind of hates to admit it, because he really did want to come here to celebrate his sister, but he's stopped paying attention to anything other than the way Sampo smiles at him and the way they're pressing shoulder to shoulder at the wall, occasionally brushing their fingers together like idiots.
Sampo seems to think the same, because he eventually leans back down to ask over the music, "You want to go back to yours?"
Gepard is probably way too eager to say, "Yes, please," because Sampo snickers at him after.
Gepard also might be too eager to finally give in to that festering urge of his once they begin walking down cobbled, night-time streets: tangling his fingers between Sampo's.
Sampo squeezes him tight and Gepard thinks he can feel the heavy warmth of it even through the metal of his prosthetic. They walk for a while. Gepard likes the clack of Sampo's heels against the stone pavement.
"You have nice hands," he says very stupidly, running his thumb over a knuckle.
"Oh yeah?" Sampo laughs with an addictively ecstatic tone, "I never would have taken you for a hand guy, Geppie."
Gepard burns and hopes the dim light of the night sky can cover it, "Not like that."
There's a devilish curl to what is left of the purple lipstick Sampo wears, "Is it not? I feel like I'm suddenly remembering something that says otherwise…"
"Shut up," Gepard grumbles. They're close enough now to enter into Gepard's apartment building, and even with the teasing, it's reluctance that taints how Gepard pulls his hand away from Sampo's to fish for his keys.
There's a pleased hum from over his shoulder, though, and the soft brush of Sampo's hair when he leans close enough to press a kiss to Gepard's cheek and whisper, "You're really the prettiest when you're embarrassed, by the way. I've wanted to say that for weeks."
Gepard's fingers lightly fumble against the lock. Sampo chuckles but (luckily for Gepard's sanity) doesn't say anything else about how humiliatingly red he must be under the bright overhead lights.
Sampo becomes a lot looser once inside Gepard's kitchen.
He (to Gepard's silent mourning) takes off his heels and blazer at the doorway, since he actually walks through it with Gepard instead of swinging through the window. He situates himself on top of Gepard's counter, softly swinging his legs and eating the proposed leftovers out of one of Gepard's crappy bowls; his hair is no longer quite perfectly styled and he's wiped off the lipstick that was still lingering around. Gepard has similarly removed his shoes and waistcoat, leaning against the counter next to Sampo where his own bowl of finished food now sits.
Their masks are sat somewhere at the apartment entrance.
Everything about it is so domestic Gepard thinks he might melt.
Sampo taps at Gepard's thigh with his foot once he's eaten, an open tilt to his head, "What are you thinking so hard about?"
Gepard flounders a little at how observant Sampo sometimes is, awkwardly picking at the fabric of Sampo's trousers, "Nothing, just… I like having you here like this. You look nice."
Sampo's smile is splitting. He briefly looks down at the floor and says a little wistfully, "Who knew all I needed for unlimited compliments was you as a boyfriend?"
Gepard can't bite down his smile hard enough at that one. At the word boyfriend on Sampo's tongue. He pokes at Sampo's knee a little impulsively, maybe for the attention of Sampo's gaze again, "I'm just saying what I think."
"Yeah," Sampo breathes and does in fact look back to him, "It's very addicting, though."
He leans down a little toward Gepard too, maybe just to speak again, but Gepard is bursting with a lot of things he had previously been trying to keep down, so he leans up to kiss Sampo first — quick and firm and hasty.
Sampo greedily presses back into it anyway, hands reaching up to cup Gepard's face.
They tilt to fit easily, but the angle of their kiss isn't as full as Gepard wants, so he moves to fully place himself between Sampo's legs. Without thinking too much about it, his hands also shift to grab at Sampo's hips and pull him closer to the edge. Close enough that they breathe against each other when Sampo pulls back.
"Eager, aren't we?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
Gepard flusters and realises how quickly he had pushed, "Sorry. I didn't mean-"
"Hey, hey. Stop that," Sampo quickly hushes him and squeezes with his thighs against Gepard, "I like you eager, Geppie. I very much like you eager."
Sampo's eyes are very purposeful and their weight makes Gepard's stomach swoop. His hands curl a little tighter against velvet and silk and he whispers very carefully, "Okay… what else do you like?"
Sampo chuckles. His thumbs swipe over Gepard's cheeks, tilting his face even further up to look at him. His words are just as soft into the space between them, "We've already done a lot of things just for what I like. Now it's you."
Gepard feels very exposed for the way Sampo eyes sweep over him, "I don't know."
"Gepard," Sampo says lowly. Almost admonishingly.
He shrugs, "I haven't really thought about it."
"Then think about it now," Sampo pushes, still that same tone. Gepard's mouth is a little dry.
"I guess I…" he flusters, "I like when you speak to me like that? You did it last time, too, when I was, um…"
Sampo's legs squeeze him a little tighter when Gepard trails off. He bites his lip and for some reason pinches Gepard's cheeks very lightly, "Aeons, I just wanna squeeze you. You don't even know what that really means, do you?"
Gepard presses his lips tightly together, feeling very bashful to say, "I'm not that inexperienced, Sampo."
"Well yeah, of course not. I meant more…" Sampo tilts his head with a hum, tapping his foot against Gepard's leg, "the scene of it."
He raises an eyebrow pryingly. When Gepard looks only at him in confusion, he snickers. "Yeah, I thought so. At some point we'll have to talk about this properly, but for now we can keep it simple." Sampo smirks and Gepard is a little startled by the very sudden shift when he speaks again, back into rumbly, "You like when I tell you what to do, right?"
The weight of Sampo's hands on his face is heavy. Gepard's heart is suddenly clamouring at his ribcage. He barely brings himself to nod.
Sampo nods back purposefully, "That's it at it's simplest. One person takes some control, the other gives it up."
"Oh," Gepard starts very slowly, fingers curled into the fabric of Sampo's clothes, "You… like the other side of that, then?"
"I'm open to almost anything," Sampo grins very wickedly, fingers slowly edging closer to the nape of Gepard's neck, "But yeah, I do. I like the thrill of it. I like knowing that if I told you to, you would get on your knees right now, just for me. Because you would, wouldn't you?"
If Gepard's mouth was dry before, he thinks it now full of cotton. Sampo's tongue flits out to wet his own lips like he knows Gepard is wanting just that. He still finds it somewhere within himself to answer, somehow, "Yeah."
"Yeah, you would," Sampo repeats with a heavy undercurrent, thumb pushing lightly at the edge of Gepard's lips. His legs are tight around Gepard, almost making them flush against each other at the edge of the counter. Gepard feels like he's tilting heavily into everything Sampo is. "Tell me something else you like, Gepard."
"I like your hands," he whispers when Sampo finally drags at his bottom lip. His voice is strangely croaked.
"I knew that one already," Sampo smiles, fully pressing his thumb into Gepard's mouth now. Gepard sucks and Sampo's eyes droop. "Tell me a different one."
"I like… being useful for you. Making you feel good," Gepard answers a little thoughtlessly when he suddenly pictures the thumb resting in his mouth as Sampo's cock again. He clutches sort of desperately at Sampo's hips.
Sampo leans forward until they're pressed together at the forehead, thumb pushing down harder. Gepard feels like squirming at it. "I like that one too."
"You do?" Gepard manages to say when Sampo regretfully pulls out of his mouth, quickly sliding his hand back to cup Gepard's jaw again.
"Yeah," Sampo breathes into the air between them, "It makes me feel like I'm special to you."
"You are special to me," Gepard mumbles back easily, staring only at Sampo's lips.
"Apparently," Sampo barely whispers with a smile. His next breath is somewhat rugged. "You want to worship me some, Geppie?"
"Yes," he says and knows it sounds far too desperate. "Can I?"
Sampo doesn't reply, only surging in to kiss Gepard again.
It's a lot tighter and more forceful than the last one, considering their teeth clack briefly and Gepard only remembers to breathe when Sampo pulls back to gasp in a breath himself. Even still, they sink back into it quickly.
Gepard kisses greedily. Knowing now that he can press and press and press and all it means is that Sampo will know even more how deeply Gepard likes him. So he isn't that afraid of pushing his fingers underneath the silk of Sampo's shirt. Or resting his weight forward far enough that Sampo has to hold tightly to his neck so as to not tip fully back with it.
In fact, Sampo only arches further the more they go. Legs digging in tight to Gepard's back.
He can't stop himself from desperately pressing with his palm into the small of Sampo's back for it.
Sampo breaks apart with a gasp, wet at the lips from Gepard's tongue. His fingers curl into the hair at Gepard's nape tightly, breathing a lovely staccato, "You better actually take me to your bed now."
"Yes, okay," he flusters and slides his hands under Sampo's thighs. He's a lot lighter than Gepard was expecting when he stands, holding Sampo's weight upright with him.
The other man simply mumbles an Aeons under his breath and kisses him some more.
It's quite strange trying to navigate the (admittedly short) distance from Gepard's kitchen to his bedroom while Sampo is also biting at his lips, but he does it surprisingly well. Or maybe it simply feels that way because Gepard's brain is running a very heavy mile a minute: because one second he's standing on cold tiles with Sampo's legs in his palms, and the next they're pressing into Gepard's mattress with teeth and lips and a lot of heavy breaths.
He doesn't even have time to mourn the fact he hasn't decorated this part of his apartment for Sampo to see, yet.
"Take my clothes off," Sampo orders from underneath him. Low and rumbly and hair spilling out kind of beautifully against his sheets. Gepard spends too long thinking about that instead of moving and Sampo pulls his hair slightly taught for it. He makes an embarrassing sound and fumbles to undo the button of Sampo's trousers.
Sampo purposefully doesn't help as Gepard is pulling all the fabric away from him. Velvet and silk and cotton until eventually Sampo is laying tauntingly bare against the bed with Gepard still kneeling between his legs.
He doesn't really know why he places his hands into his lap and waits afterwards, still fully clothed himself, but Sampo smiles delightfully at him for it, "Oh you do listen well, don't you?"
Gepard curls his fingers at the tilt of Sampo's head. Digging into his palm to distract from the way he's straining against his trousers already.
"You want to fuck me, Gepard?" Sampo rumbles. A soft pink tint to his skin when he teasingly taps at Gepard's arm with his foot.
He nods pathetically, somehow daring to eye how Sampo's dick sits very appealingly against his stomach — pretty and flushed and hard — before they flicker back to Sampo's face. He somehow smiles more lecherously at Gepard for it.
"Worship me like you said you would and maybe I'll let you."
Gepard swallows nothing but air, "You want something specific?"
"Your fingers," Sampo hums easily. Then, much more softly like he's just remembered, "And the same as always, okay? You can tap my knee or say you'd like to stop whenever."
"Okay," Gepard nods. His brain is somewhat foggy though, because he then says "Thank you," like that makes any sense at all. Sampo laughs kind of breathlessly anyway, shoulders shaking. Gepard flusters and scrambles to his bedside drawers while Sampo grabs a pillow to put under his hips.
When he eventually goes back to kneeling between Sampo's legs with a bottle of lube now next to him, Sampo takes a heavy breath and eases out into the sheets even more. He can't stop himself from asking, "Am I only allowed my fingers?"
Sampo curls his hand into the sheet at his hip. His voice is already almost rugged at the edge, "No. You've got a nice mouth, too. And I'm very generous about these things."
Gepard hums and presses a kiss to Sampo's knee, which twitches under his lips. It feels more right this time when he mumbles a thank you against the joint.
Sampo's breathing is heavy enough that Gepard hears it clearly in his own ears. He presses another kiss against skin. Then another. And another. Slowly climbing until he's pressing into the divot of Sampo's hip with enough room to snake his right arm under Sampo's thigh and have it rest on his shoulder.
It's a lot when his gaze flickers up to meet Sampo's, though. Heated and looking like he wants to eat Gepard alive. One of those hands delightfully slides into his hair once more, and Gepard presses metal fingers into the flesh of Sampo's thigh. Carving out divots there. He kisses the side of Sampo's cock too, kind of loving how it twitches just the same as his leg had.
"Fingers, Gepard," Sampo reminds him, dangerously low. Gepard shudders at it and then fumbles to uncap the bottle and coat his skin.
The feeling of Sampo squeezing him with his legs when Gepard finally presses a single finger into him is strangely exhilarating. He also presses a longer kiss to Sampo's pelvis too; sucking at the skin there. Sampo curls his own fingers against blond hair and the sheets.
With almost every press after the first Gepard puts his lips somewhere new, kissing even further up Sampo's torso. Enamoured by every shiver Sampo makes underneath him. He might also be a little enamoured by how Sampo's left leg pushes up with him, still resting at Gepard's shoulder.
"Second finger," Sampo orders tightly by the time he's just over the man's belly button. Nails scratching at Gepard's scalp. He complies quickly and maybe too eagerly, pressing his middle finger in with his the first. Searching and searching and searching.
Gepard's already kissed far enough up to be at the edge of one of Sampo's pecs when his fingers finally brush something that makes the other man twitch with a groaned out fuck. A full body thing that Gepard feels everywhere they press.
Gepard, because he's close enough now, takes one of Sampo's nipples into his mouth while his fingers press very forcefully against that ridge: rubbing circles there. Sampo's breath drags out of him, hips rocking into Gepard's wrist and back arching up toward Gepard's mouth.
He sucks the nipple harshly between his teeth and Sampo makes a rumbling moan. "Third," he pants, curling Gepard's hair tight between his fingers when Gepard hastily follows the order. Another finger pressing in, stretching out and knowing exactly where to touch, now. Where to push up and into with every thrust of his hand.
He finally rises far enough to smother Sampo's neck in kisses like he's been secretly wanting to, but Sampo's fingers quickly move to tilt his jaw up enough that Sampo can lean down to slot their mouths together instead. His leg is caught between both their chests at this point, but Sampo doesn't seem to care as he aggressively takes and takes and takes some more from Gepard in every slide of their lips. Wet and sloppy and very addictive.
"Aeons, Geppie. Fourth," Sampo bites the moment they break apart, to which Gepard happily follows. Sampo stretches easily and moans for it, clutching Gepard's face still when he digs in harder. He starts to babble like that was the breaking of the dam, and Gepard is still surprised that it even took this long, "So good for me. Keep it- oh fuck- keep right there."
Gepard feels the rush of good for me in his blood like a fever. Hot and bubbling and coming out of his mouth in a whimper. Rocking harder into Sampo's prostate with it.
"Touch me," Sampo pants between his groans, whole body tense with every press, "'M so fucking close, Gep. Just need you to-"
He cuts off very abruptly, groaning a sudden thing when Gepard does wrap metal fingers around his flushed and straining dick.
Gepard can't help but whine with it himself, leaning back again to admire how Sampo truly starts to twitch when he jerks him off. How he tenses under Gepard's hands, a sudden building thing. How his back arches against the pillow with it, hands now clutching at the bed and his own chest since Gepard knelt back too far to tangle in his hair. How his legs try to close in tightly.
How he comes, spilling over Gepard's fist and clenching down against his fingers too.
"Gepard," Sampo moans through it a little desperately.
Frankly, Gepard thinks there's never been anything as beautiful as Sampo right here.
He bites at his cheek when they lock eyes again, feeling just as pink and tousled as Sampo looks despite the fact he's untouched and still in all his very tight clothes. He tries to pull away his fingers, but Sampo clenches tighter against him and stretches forward until he can grab Gepard's shirt and pull him down.
They kiss again. Hot and heady. Sampo is still rocking onto his fingers and Gepard can't help but make a pathetic sound against the other man for it.
"You want me that much?" Sampo whines back in a new type of rumble Gepard thinks he loves. Once again, it sort of feels like coming has left Sampo's tongue even looser than usual. "Have you done enough to earn it yet?"
"Yes," Gepard breathes against his lips.
"Prove it to me," Sampo orders. Gepard still follows like he knows he should, fingers pressing forcefully against Sampo's prostate again. The man almost convulses with the clear edge of his previous orgasm, so soon after that he's still not gone soft. He groans against Gepard's mouth — who thinks he would crumble at the very idea of being overstimulated in this way. Sampo just raggedly says, "Again."
"Sampo," Gepard pleads way too desperately for the fact that he isn't the one being touched at all.
Sampo jerks and arches up into Gepard with the new press, mouth parted, "Again."
Gepard whimpers and follows the order like he doesn't know how to do anything else. He doesn't even wait for Sampo to speak again before he circles some more.
Sampo looks like he's already hanging on the edge again. Back arched and core very, very taught. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Keep going. I'm so- I'm so-"
Gepard is so hard it hurts, feeling the way Sampo quickly builds up from every new bit of pressure just to come again on his fingers. This time almost completely dry against his stomach. A ripple even heavier than the last, clutching at Gepard like he's the only lifeline Sampo has.
"Holy shit," he practically sobs, face twitching now with it too.
Gepard whimpers again at how the sound rushes straight to his own dick. He can't stop himself from panting against Sampo's lips, begging, "Please."
Sampo gasps, body still a quivering live-wire and voice very, very croaked, "How much do you want it?"
"So much. I want you so much, Sampo."
"Yeah?" Sampo keens like the words are sparks under his skin, "More than anything else, Geppie?"
"Yes," Gepard pleads to the affection of Geppie in that ruined tone of voice. His thoughts are far, far away from him. "You look so good. I want- please, Sampo."
Eyes fluttering and cheeks rosy, Sampo clenches around his fingers and pants, "Tell me want you want."
Gepard's tongue is loose at the prospect of being good for Sampo, who looks so pleasingly at him for every action he takes. So he doesn't even freak out when his words roll easily into the hot air they're breathing, "I want to come in you."
Sampo just growls anyway, "And make me yours?"
They're pressing their foreheads together so hard it feels like they're trying to fuse into something else. Gepard emphatically tries to nod anyway.
"Come on then. Come on," Sampo is practically heaving for it, trembling all over, "Fuck me like you need it, Gepard."
He whimpers when Gepard removes his fingers. Gepard barely notices for how he fumbles in a pathetic haste to (finally) remove his clothes and quickly lube himself up. The slick contact of his good fingers and the liquid is so much, when he's been sitting on all this want for so long. It's hard not to squirm with it.
"You want me like this?" Gepard still asks breathlessly.
Sampo's laugh is very open and loose when he says, "Yes. I want to see you."
He quivers something fierce when Gepard lines up against him still, hands reaching out in a silent ask for Gepard to lean down again. Gepard eagerly does so to please him, and when he slowly pushes in Sampo's fingers slide through his hair with a lovely sigh.
"So pretty," he mumbles, affectionately swiping away the small hairs plastering themselves to his forehead. Gepard whines at the sudden softness of it in comparison to the hot squeeze of actually being inside Sampo — who smiles adoringly at him.
Gepard impulsively grabs at Sampo's wrist. He pulls it down so he can kiss into the palm of Sampo's hand, "For you."
"Yeah, just for me," Sampo almost growls again and arches up into him. Gepard tangles their fingers together, skin to skin, and presses their hands into the bed. "Fuck, be good and tip me over again. I wanna come with you in me."
Gepard groans out a ragged thing and buries his face into Sampo's neck. He starts to truly move, metal fingers digging into the soft weight of Sampo's thigh again when those legs fully wrap around his waist.
"You want it so bad, don't you?" Sampo breathes like he can't stop himself when Gepard rocks into him. "Aeons, tell me how you- ah..!"
Gepard unthinkingly snaps his hips and adores how Sampo stutters with it, still so wound from coming twice already. Gepard belatedly realises he's fully holding up Sampo's hips now, so only his shoulders are digging into the mattress.
"I want it," Gepard pleads needingly into Sampo's neck, squeezing their interlocked fingers together tightly.
Sampo whimpers, other hand clawing a little at his shoulder when Gepard starts to build up a pace. A burning drag of in and then out and then in again. "Come on, come on- I need this."
Gepard is nothing but obedient, so he digs in his knees and gives some more. Gives a little faster. Mouth open and wetly sucking against Sampo's skin. Addictively drinking in how he starts to feel hot at the touch from the friction against his dick. Sweaty and panting every new breath. So much. So much.
He tilts a little to the right and Sampo's entire body spasms around him, fingers tangled tight in his, "Don't you dare move, holy shit."
Gepard fucks into that spot even harder, clawing at his thigh. Sampo is trembling and gasping. Clamouring to grasp at Gepard wherever he can with his free hand. His shoulders and his back and then his hair again finally.
Gepard whimpers something truly obscene when Sampo pulls, wound so tightly himself. He wants so fucking desperately-
"So pretty for me, baby," Sampo groans when he pulls hard enough that Gepard actually tilts back to look at him with it. He's so out of it he doesn't even really register the baby on Sampo's tongue, though, enamoured only by the red flush of his face and how's he so, so close.
"Sampo. I'm gonna-"
"Not yet," he orders quickly and desperately, grabbing Gepard's jaw as if to stop him looking away. Gepard feels his stomach swoop terribly in exhilaration at it. "Give me one more first. Just one more. 'M so close."
"Please," Gepard begs anyway, feeling that tipping again with every thrust. That thing in his chest that makes his eyes water and his every breath into a whimper. "I've been good for you."
"No," Sampo says firmly even despite the way he's shaking, "One more."
Gepard sobs something strange. He's so fucking near the edge that it hurts.
Still, he bites his lip and presses their foreheads together. Aiming desperately for the spot that makes Sampo twitch. That spot that makes his back arch further, fingers digging into Gepard. Trying not to finally come himself. Trying to be good.
"Yes, like that, yes," Sampo chants into the hot air between them, "Oh fuck, oh fuck-"
When he comes it's dry again. A heavy, heavy quivering to all his limbs. A long sob to his lips. Clenching tight around Gepard.
Gepard thinks he feels it under his own skin.
"Sampo," he begs again pathetically, still thrusting against the drag of Sampo's insides, "Please, oh Aeons, please let me come. Was that enough? I'm- I'm so-"
"I know, baby, I know," Sampo says, delightfully raw with wet, swollen lips and a heaving chest. Thumb rubbing over Gepard's cheekbone and also his knuckles where they're still holding hands. He's spasming for every move Gepard makes. "You've been so perfect. So perfect. Just one thing. You can do that for me, can't you?"
Gepard feels his face crumple and Sampo coos in a way that makes him even harder somehow. Leaking fierce for every slow roll of his hips that he torturously continues, because Sampo hasn't told him to stop.
Sampo whispers dangerously like Gepard's want is addiction, "Say thank you."
"Thank you," Gepard sobs quickly and very desperately, biting at his lips and curling his hands tight into Sampo's fingers and thigh like a lifeline.
He's absolutely fucked though, because Sampo looks like he's wanting to hang Gepard at the edge even more, "Maybe one more thing..."
He shakes his head way too hard for that. Body coiled like a spring that's waiting for just one moment of release, "I can't-"
"You can," Sampo says, almost soft in his tone and the caress of his thumb, except for how the words are like sharp knives to his skin. "Move more."
Gepard thinks he's broken the skin on his lip trying to keep it down. Still, he is nothing but diligent and obedient, so he obeys and follows through much harder with his hips. Sampo convulses, open mouthed and so fucking beautiful. It's the only coherent thought Gepard's brain can cling to.
"Fuck. Say you're mine," Sampo whimpers, very low.
"I'm yours," Gepard barely pants out between his teeth. Between every quick thrust into Sampo. He feels the words curling around his skin.
"Good. And...?"
"And you're mine," Gepard finishes pleadingly. A silent ask for Sampo to let him let go.
"So come for me, Geppie," he demands with a groan, back arched. Finally letting Gepard feel this. "Make me yours. You've earned it and I need it. I need to feel you everywhere. Every fucking inch of me."
"Fuck," Gepard sobs again, hips stuttering when he lets go of that taught tension he's been clinging to with the last of his strength. "Thank you, thank you," he repeats like a mantra, curling up into Sampo underneath him.
It racks through him like a hot wave. Colliding into his limbs and making him weak where it hits. A spread of burning heat out to his fingertips.
He thinks he's never had an orgasm hit him harder in his life.
There's a high chance Sampo is whispering softly to him, but it mostly goes in one ear and out the other until his muscles finally stop twitching and his weight slowly collapses into Sampo under him.
"Aeons, I really love the sounds you make," Sampo says affectionately, untangling their hands to run all his fingers through Gepard's hair softly. To cradle his face and lean up to press their lips together. A firm but gentle thing.
Gepard's cheeks are thoroughly wet with tears when Sampo kisses them next with his tender adoration, even though Gepard hadn't even realised he was crying at any point. He shudders, "I don't know why I'm..."
"Shh, it's okay," Sampo whispers and kisses him properly again. Insistent with something.
Gepard finally wills himself to pull out, and the breathy moan Sampo gives him for it does feel a little rewarding. After he does, though, Sampo quickly tips them both until they're on their sides, lying face to face. Gepard wraps his arm around Sampo's waist to pull him close and the other man tangles their legs together and kisses him some more like he can't stop.
"Did I push too much? You can tell me if I did," Sampo whispers eventually after they spend too long just indulging in the slide of their lips, nothing but fondness lining every syllable. He's running his fingers across the skin of Gepard's face like he's mapping it out to memorise.
Gepard shakes his head vehemently, hair getting caught in the sheets. His voice is terribly croaked, "I liked it. It was- it was a lot but I liked it."
His words are clearly still somewhat dumb apparently.
Sampo smiles warmly at him despite it. Sweaty and heavily flushed and still clinging to Gepard. Not pulling away at all. "I'm glad. You did so well for me, baby. So well."
Gepard shivers, eyes fluttering. He kind of wants to curl up into Sampo and let him say that some more.
"Yeah, you did," Sampo rumbles, "I knew you would."
Gepard feels strangely giddy, "You feel good?"
Sampo laughs kind of ecstatically and kisses Gepard's nose, shoulders shaking with the force of it, "I came three times. What do you think?"
Gepard flusters and does actually curl up enough that he's pressing his face to Sampo's sternum, now. Arms fully wrapped around his waist. It's only when hiding against the safety of Sampo's chest that he brings himself to ask, "And you feel special, right?"
Sampo goes back to combing through his hair with a pleasant sigh that Gepard feels through his ribs. His foot is skimming up and down Gepard's calf, and even though his words are teasing, his tone sends a pleasant buzz through Gepard, "Yeah. I think I'm kinda addicted to the way you look at me."
Gepard squeezes his arms tight, "Good. It's not going to change any time soon."
"Good," Sampo hums happily, "I also think I'm gonna sleep all day tomorrow, 'cause holy shit."
"Here?" Gepard asks hopefully.
Sampo's fingers pause before he sinks them against his scalp further, "Yeah. If you'll let me."
"I want that," Gepard mumbles, "Please stay here with me."
"Okay," he whispers quietly and presses a kiss to the crown of Gepard's head, "I'll stay as long as I can."
Gepard is reminded painfully of I'm going to leave. He thinks he's still glad he gets to hold Sampo close right now even despite the words' bitter existence in his brain.
Calling Sampo his boyfriend is something Gepard doesn't think he'll ever quite get enough of, even as the weeks pass. He also can't quite deny the joy he gets from Serval saying the same, now that it's actually true and not just some wishful wanting.
"You don't have to make your boyfriend leave when we eat here, you know," she prods with a smirk after taking a bite of her food. Feet up on Gepard's coffee table and relaxed into his sofa. Lynx is sat next to her, cross-legged.
"I'm not making him leave," he grumbles from his spot in his new armchair across from them, blanket over his lap, "He doesn't live here."
Lynx giggles like she knows a secret, "Oh, so I can steal that cool jacket in your wardrobe then? Since it's yours."
Serval tries to smother her smile by eating more. Gepard frowns in embarrassment, "He just keeps some things here. That's not…"
'Some things', it suddenly hits him, means basically all of Sampo's few worldly possessions. The aforementioned jacket and basically all his other clothes — which double Gepard's in number. A surprising amount of books and plants (though he thinks Sampo only bought the latter to dot around his apartment some more, after Gepard actually cared for the first one). Some dishware that Gepard has become a bit attached to.
Oh, and a snow globe that sits on the drawers at Sampo's side of the bed (which he can proudly say has new, better sheets than before, because Sampo called them depressing to have sex on).
Qlipoth. Sampo kind of lives in his apartment.
Lynx and Serval are both looking at him like he's an idiot.
"I'll ask if he wants to join when I see him next," he mumbles, poking at his food and very red in the face. His sisters smile at him in a way he hates.
For some reason, the revelation sticks with him. Like the sun parting the clouds after a never-ending snowstorm. It makes him realise some other things, too.
"I can see your brain working, you know," Sampo mumbles quietly from on top of Gepard's chest in the evening light. They're both stretched out on the sofa after working on a new case Pela had eagerly pushed his way.
Sampo doesn't really ask for anything in return nowadays. He just somehow becomes even more emotionally clingy with Gepard like he still needs some excuse.
(He doesn't. Gepard has said this many a time, but it hasn't quite stuck yet.)
Hence, the cuddling.
"I think I've figured something out, I guess," he says back, softly drawing patterns into Sampo's back. "About that missing feeling in my chest."
Sampo's face goes a little askew for some reason, "You want to talk about it?"
Gepard huffs, "It's… a lot. We can just sit here, too, if you'd rather."
Sampo actually pouts, poking into his side with his fingers. Gepard actually thinks he can spot the worry tilting his eyes, "I'd rather you tell me, really."
"Okay," he hums gently, twirling one strand of Sampo's hair around a metal finger. "I guess.. back when I joined the frontline, I used to think it was all I ever wanted. That…" he licks the edge of his lips that are dry, staring intently at the bookshelf and not at Sampo's face so close to his, "That dying for Belobog was all I ever wanted."
Sampo hums in very simple acknowledgement, hands snaking out from underneath Gepard to cup his face reverently. He leans into the touch.
"Fighting felt inevitable, you know? It… felt like it completed that part of me," he frowns and Sampo's thumb swipes over his cheekbone silently. When he opens and closes his mouth a few times like an idiot, Sampo doesn't push. He simply lets Gepard gather the words onto his tongue. "Then the trailblazers ended it all. But instead of hating it, I was glad," he says like a shameful secret, "Because I stopped wanting to die for Belobog, somewhere along the way."
The fingers on his right hand twitch a little. Sampo presses his own hands tighter to Gepard's face and whispers so lovingly, "It's okay to want to live, Gepard."
"I know that now," Gepard starts again like snow tumbling down a mountain, "but that was so much of me, Sampo. So when I started to want other things- normal things, like… decorating this stupid apartment or spending time with my family or just you. I didn't know what to do with it all."
Belatedly, Gepard realises his eyes are watery. He sucks in a deep breath and tries to calm that part of him by cupping Sampo's face in return.
"I got so used to fighting being the cure to my wants," he continues forward, "I kept expecting it to be filling for these new ones too, because what else would it be? And that made it feel so... so shitty when we never fought anyone at all. It felt like I was missing something that I needed to be whole."
Sampo swipes under his eyes so softly. The weight of him is very grounding, and Gepard thinks it's the only reason he hasn't tipped into crying again.
"You don't have to fight for this," Sampo breathes.
"Yeah, I was an idiot," Gepard whispers back with a choked laugh, "It wasn't even the fighting that felt filling in the first place. It was just feeling like I was giving back to the things I loved. To Belobog. To you."
Sampo eyes suddenly bounce between his. Very very wide. The rest of his expression quivers too, weirdly, before he quickly surges forward to kiss Gepard.
Gepard — as is pattern for him — only realises after this fact that's he's essentially just-
Just said-
"You love me?" Sampo whispers against his lips.
Shit.
"So much," Gepard says and squeezes him desperately tight, knowing he can't take it back now, "I love you so much."
Sampo's voice is tight, "More than Belobog?"
"Yeah," he breathes without even having to think about it. Maybe that should be scary, but he's already somewhat grappled with what loving Sampo means for his oath.
It means picking this good, full feeling in his chest over duty, for once.
"Oh yeah?" Sampo starts, sounding like it should be teasing except for how his expression is once again that crumpled thing that Gepard wants to bundle up in his arms, "We match, then. Because I might love you more than being a Fool, Gepard."
Gepard feels the words dig into his ribs and knows they're going to live there forever, now. Sitting next to I'm going to leave. A nice little pair carved into his very bones.
Gepard smiles a little painfully, "It kind of sucks, doesn't it?"
Sampo laughs, lip tightly curled with something similar, "Yeah. It really does."
Gepard has (very, very gently) been prying information out of Sampo regarding life off-planet. Sampo clearly knows it but he indulges anyway. Talking so openly and happily about it all: the magic of seasonal weather and food Gepard can't even imagine and music and how he apparently wants to gift Gepard every type of flower in all the stars.
All of it except for one thing.
The thing that he only barely mentions by name, brushing past as much as he possibly can (though Gepard can already feel the edges prying up to be peeled away, even if it will take many more months to do it).
So Gepard — as of right now — can only really name one thing for certain about being a Masked Fool:
It's why Sampo loves the theatre so much.
(Gepard supposes he can't complain with that part, at least.)