Balance - Uruha/Miyavi
Title: Balance
Author: Kagome
Warnings: BDSM, D/s, flogging, rimming, smut (of course), sap.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Uruha (the GazettE)/Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: “How good are you at balancing, Miyavi?” Uruha purred.
Comments: This was another one that I hoarded. ^^; My Uruha-muse had something very specific in mind for Miyavi, and I tried my best to make sure that you all would be able to visualize what’s going on well. I hope you like it!
Balance
“Close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to.”
Miyavi did so without question, not even peeking as Uruha took his hand and led him through the apartment. When they stopped moving, he knew that they were in the bedroom (he was familiar enough with the layout of Uruha’s apartment by now to figure that out), but he did not know why his lover had told him to close his eyes. Nevertheless, he hadn’t yet been given permission to open them, so he did not.
“Turn around,” Uruha said. “I need you facing the mirror for this, not the bed.”
Again, Miyavi did as he was told without question. He was trembling slightly, anxious to know what the blonde had in store for him. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long.
Miyavi heard the clinking of chains and then he felt one of Uruha’s hands on his right forearm. A padded cuff was placed on his right wrist, and he heard the metallic click of the cuff closing and locking into place before Uruha did the same to his left wrist. Oh, yes, he was very curious now.
“This just arrived today,” Uruha told Miyavi, lips brushing lightly against his cheek for the briefest of moments before the blonde moved away. “I set it up and decided that I wanted to try it out sooner rather than later, which is why you’re here earlier than I had originally intended you to be. Lift your arms above your head.”
Miyavi did as instructed, heard another sound of metal on metal, and simultaneously, the chains tightened. The pressure on his wrists increased, and he was forced to compensate by rising up so that his feet were no longer flat on the floor.
“How good are you at balancing, Miyavi?” Uruha purred, and the chains tightened again. Miyavi had no choice but to follow as best as he could-he was almost standing on his toes now.
“I don’t know,” Miyavi replied, wondering what balance had to do with anything. Knowing his lover, though, balance more than likely had everything to do with this situation. “Can’t say I’ve actually practiced balancing before, so I--”
“You’re going to practice today,” Uruha interrupted, and the chains tightened again until Miyavi really was forced to stand on his toes. He heard a duller sound then, like the chains were clanking against wood, and then he felt Uruha standing close to him once more.
“Each time you lose your balance,” Uruha continued, “you’ll get three lashes with this.” Miyavi then felt the tassels of a flogger trailing lightly along his ass and he very nearly lost his balance right then, shuddering at the soft touch of leather on his skin.
“Good,” Uruha told him, just barely pressing his lips to the back of Miyavi’s neck. “If you lose your balance, the chains will keep you from falling; they will keep you suspended, but you had better get back on your toes quickly. I will not let you come until I’m satisfied with your ability to balance. Do you understand, Miyavi?”
“Yes,” Miyavi replied, voice barely above a whisper. He knew - he just knew - that this sort of ‘balancing act’ would take practice, and he would fail several times before getting the hang of it. He was no ballet dancer-he was not used to standing on his toes, and he knew that Uruha was well aware of that fact. This was the game that Uruha wanted to play, and Miyavi had no choice but to play to the best of his ability.
“You may open your eyes now.” Uruha’s husky voice issued from somewhere below, nearer to the floor, but when Miyavi opened his eyes, the first thing he looked at was not Uruha. His gaze moved upwards, landing on the cuffs around his wrists, and then his eyes followed the chains, lingering on the two metal loops in the ceiling which the chains were threaded through. He couldn’t turn his head far enough to see what the chains were attached to, though he could see the foot of Uruha’s bed out of the corner of his eye, and he guessed that the chains were secured around the spindles of the headboard. A glance at the mirror told him that he was correct in his assumption.
“Well?” Uruha asked, and only then did Miyavi look down, seeing that Uruha’s mouth was very close to his erection and the blonde was looking up at him sultrily through his lashes. It was quite a sight, Uruha on his knees before him, lips slightly parted, eyes promising that he would make this good for Miyavi, provided that Miyavi - quite literally - stayed on his toes.
“W-what?” Miyavi asked, fighting for concentration, fighting to keep still and to keep his balance.
“Do you want my mouth on your cock?” The question was direct and required only a simple yes or no. There was no way in hell that Miyavi would have said no, either, even if Uruha hadn’t been looking at him like he currently was.
“Yes,” Miyavi replied, breath catching in his throat the instant Uruha leaned down, lips wrapping around the head of his cock, tongue teasing the sensitive area surrounding the piercing just below the head. That was the moment that Miyavi realized just how difficult keeping his balance would be. He had been doing okay, he thought, up to the point when he felt Uruha’s warm, wet mouth on him. It was then that his concentration was broken, and he wobbled, losing his balance for the first time that afternoon, and he knew that it was only the first of many-how was he expected to keep his balance if his lover was going to torture him like that?
The second he lost his footing and was left suspended in midair, struggling to touch his toes to the floor and rebalance himself, Uruha’s mouth left him; the blonde guitarist stood, shaking his head and tsking softly. “Oh, that’s too bad,” he said in a tone that was a mockery of sympathy. “I thought you would do better than that.” He moved so that he was standing behind Miyavi, and Miyavi heard - and most definitely felt - the leather smack against his skin as Uruha brought the flogger down, delivering three blows, as was promised.
“Again,” Uruha commanded, voice low, and Miyavi scrambled to find his balance once more. His concentration had been broken, and it wasn’t easy to regain it; the lack of concentration accounted for the fumbling and the delay, and his lover apparently was not very patient today. “You’re going to have to be much quicker than this,” he told Miyavi, long fingers trailing teasingly along his hip and outer thigh.
Miyavi, who had finally managed to settle himself on his toes once more, teetered dangerously when those fingers brushed against his skin, but he managed to stay balanced this time. Again, he was quite proud of himself, until Uruha’s fingers wrapped around his length and he reflexively thrust his hips forward into his fist, succeeding in losing his balance yet again and earning himself three more lashes from the flogger.
And so, the game went on like this for what felt like hours: Miyavi would regain his balance only to lose it fairly quickly when Uruha would touch him, and Uruha would punish him for losing his balance. Finally, finally, Miyavi managed to get the hang of it, and he did not falter even when Uruha pushed two fingers (slick with sweat and Miyavi’s saliva) inside of his body and curled them, brushing the tips of them against his prostate.
Miyavi had lost count of how many times the leather tassels of the flogger had kissed his skin, and he had lost count of how many times he had begged Uruha to stop torturing him and just fuck him already. He was pouring sweat and breathing heavily; his whole body ached, and he knew without looking that his entire backside - from his shoulder blades to upper thighs - was red. There would probably be bruises later as well. His toes were killing him (he was sure they’d hurt a lot worse tomorrow) and his calf muscles burned. His arms would be very sore tomorrow too, but it was all worth it now, because he was balanced. He was balanced, and Uruha’s fingers were inside of him, rewarding him with a very different sort of burn-one that did not go unappreciated. The fingers of Uruha’s other hand were curled around Miyavi’s length, stroking him slowly, building that sweet ache between his legs.
“Very good,” Uruha praised, twisting his wrist and thrusting his fingers inside of him in such a delicious manner that he almost stumbled. He did sway slightly, but his toes remained in contact with the floor, and that was the most important thing.
Uruha’s fingers left him and Miyavi made a soft hiss of protest at the loss of them, though any further protests died in his throat when Uruha wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. “You can relax now; I’ve got you.”
Miyavi exhaled slowly and allowed himself to rest back against his lover’s body, now that he no longer had to worry about keeping himself balanced. Now, he was free to fully concentrate on the feel of Uruha’s hand moving along his cock as that hand pumped him harder and faster, fingers squeezing every now and again, helping to heighten the pleasure and helping to push him closer to release.
“Uruha,” Miyavi gasped out in between moans, “why…?”
He felt Uruha smile against his neck, and though he hadn’t finished his question, he knew that Uruha understood it nonetheless. “Soon,” Uruha murmured, voice full of promise and desire. “I’ll be inside of you soon….”
Miyavi took Uruha’s word for it; truth be told, he couldn’t have managed to do anything else, because suddenly he was writhing against Uruha, writhing and coming, Uruha’s name falling from his lips over and over again as his body jerked and his cum spilled over onto the blonde’s hand.
Miyavi was still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm when Uruha released him from his bonds and led him to the bed. “Lie on your stomach,” Uruha said, and when he complied, Uruha leaned over him, beginning to soothe the kisses delivered by the flogger with kisses of his own. Lips and tongue caressed reddened skin, pausing (purposefully, no doubt) at ticklish areas, making Miyavi smile.
Uruha moved lower, kissing the dip in Miyavi’s spine, and lower still until his lips brushed against the top of the curve of his ass. Then he paused, and Miyavi made a low, needy sound, lifting his hips ever so slightly, asking for more without using words to do so.
Uruha obliged him, gently spreading Miyavi’s cheeks apart with his hands as his tongue followed the crack of his ass, eventually circling slowly around that tight ring of muscle, making Miyavi shudder and arch his back. He was gifted with a few more swipes of Uruha’s tongue, but just when he thought that that tongue might enter him, Uruha moved on, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his thighs instead.
Miyavi whimpered, caught somewhere between pleasure and frustration, and Uruha reached around, fingers finding his half-hard cock and stroking it to full hardness. Miyavi felt that he was surely going mad, falling apart, all due to Uruha’s mouth and hands. But if this was madness, he sure as hell didn’t mind being labeled insane.
All too soon, those hands and that mouth left him, but before Miyavi could even open his mouth to ask his lover to not stop, Uruha spoke: “Turn over,” he breathed. “I want you on your back.”
Miyavi was all too willing to obey. He rolled over onto his back, thighs spread, hands reaching for Uruha, and the blonde went to him, only pausing for the sake of lube. Within moments, Uruha was inside of him, building a slow rhythm that he met easily. Right now, there was no rush, no need to hurry, and it surprised Miyavi that Uruha was going so slowly-he had seemed impatient earlier. But that was one of the many beautiful things about Uruha: he was full of surprises. He could be gentle and he could be rough; he could be merciful and he could be merciless; he could provide pleasure and he could provide pain (and Miyavi had learned quickly with Uruha that pain can be a pleasure in and of itself). Miyavi’s lover could be a thousand things at any one time, and he loved that about him.
There was nothing frantic about their lovemaking: their bodies moved slowly and sensually together, and the pleasure gradually built between them. Though Uruha’s thrusts were slow, they were anything but shallow. He shoved himself deeply inside of Miyavi, pulled back and repeated the motion, and Miyavi groaned helplessly and writhed beneath him, rocking his own hips upwards to meet the undulations of Uruha’s hips.
Their rhythm did not falter even when Miyavi slid a hand between their bodies and closed his fist around his own cock. Their rhythm did not falter when Uruha moved to link his fingers with Miyavi’s, helping to stroke him. Their rhythm did not falter when Uruha looked down at Miyavi with half-closed, glazed-over eyes, though it very nearly did because that look made Miyavi forget to breathe for several seconds, and he only remembered to draw breath when his vision darkened somewhat and his head began to swim.
Their rhythm did falter when Miyavi came for the second time that afternoon, his body jerking and writhing uncontrollably, muscles clamping down around Uruha’s cock over and over again. The blonde paused and leaned down, pressing his lips to Miyavi’s, and the sounds that Miyavi was making (mostly Uruha’s name) rapidly became lost in their kiss. Uruha continued to kiss him even as he resumed fucking him, and even when Uruha came himself, the kiss remained unbroken.
They eventually broke apart, their heavy breathing and the rapid beating of his own heart loud in Miyavi’s ears. Uruha leaned down again, kissing Miyavi lightly before moving back, slipping out of him and sliding out of bed, heading for the bathroom. Miyavi watched him as he walked, taking a moment to appreciate his beauty. Something twisted inside of his chest (it felt like something twisted, anyway), though it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. After being with Uruha for a little over half a year, Miyavi was used to this feeling by now.
Uruha returned with a couple of damp cloths, which he and Miyavi used to clean themselves up a little. Afterwards, they curled up together in the bed, a tangle of arms and legs, forehead-to-forehead, breaths mingling.
“Just so you know, I’ve never had to do anything like that before,” Miyavi said, wrinkling his nose slightly at his lover. “That was torturous, and I’m going to be very sore later.” He was already sore now, but he knew it would get worse.
Uruha rolled his eyes and smiled. “I know, you dork. But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He ran his fingers along Miyavi’s side, and Miyavi shivered and nodded. “Besides, you learned.” There was a pause, and then he chuckled. “Do you realize how much you talk when I’ve got you at my mercy? You begged me to fuck you when you were struggling to keep your balance. You said my name so many times….”
Miyavi could feel himself blushing. “Shut up. You like to hear me beg.”
“I do,” Uruha agreed, sliding one leg between both of Miyavi’s. “It turns me on,” he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.
Miyavi shivered again and pressed closer to him. “Do you want to hear me beg some more?” he asked, running his fingers over Uruha’s cheek. “I like to beg for you.”
“Yes,” Uruha replied, leaning into Miyavi’s touch. “I want to hear you beg for me some more. You will beg for me.” His words, Miyavi knew, were a promise. “You’re going to beg me until you can’t make sense of your own words. You’re going to scream for me until your voice is hoarse. There are plenty of other things we can play with, after all.”
“Mmm. Looking forward to it.” And Miyavi was looking forward to it.
They had the rest of the afternoon and the entire night ahead of them, and Miyavi knew, without a doubt, that they were going to put those hours to very good use.
~END~
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My Uruha is getting extremely fond of being the one in control. XD;;;
Author: Kagome
Warnings: BDSM, D/s, flogging, rimming, smut (of course), sap.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Uruha (the GazettE)/Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: “How good are you at balancing, Miyavi?” Uruha purred.
Comments: This was another one that I hoarded. ^^; My Uruha-muse had something very specific in mind for Miyavi, and I tried my best to make sure that you all would be able to visualize what’s going on well. I hope you like it!
Balance
“Close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to.”
Miyavi did so without question, not even peeking as Uruha took his hand and led him through the apartment. When they stopped moving, he knew that they were in the bedroom (he was familiar enough with the layout of Uruha’s apartment by now to figure that out), but he did not know why his lover had told him to close his eyes. Nevertheless, he hadn’t yet been given permission to open them, so he did not.
“Turn around,” Uruha said. “I need you facing the mirror for this, not the bed.”
Again, Miyavi did as he was told without question. He was trembling slightly, anxious to know what the blonde had in store for him. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long.
Miyavi heard the clinking of chains and then he felt one of Uruha’s hands on his right forearm. A padded cuff was placed on his right wrist, and he heard the metallic click of the cuff closing and locking into place before Uruha did the same to his left wrist. Oh, yes, he was very curious now.
“This just arrived today,” Uruha told Miyavi, lips brushing lightly against his cheek for the briefest of moments before the blonde moved away. “I set it up and decided that I wanted to try it out sooner rather than later, which is why you’re here earlier than I had originally intended you to be. Lift your arms above your head.”
Miyavi did as instructed, heard another sound of metal on metal, and simultaneously, the chains tightened. The pressure on his wrists increased, and he was forced to compensate by rising up so that his feet were no longer flat on the floor.
“How good are you at balancing, Miyavi?” Uruha purred, and the chains tightened again. Miyavi had no choice but to follow as best as he could-he was almost standing on his toes now.
“I don’t know,” Miyavi replied, wondering what balance had to do with anything. Knowing his lover, though, balance more than likely had everything to do with this situation. “Can’t say I’ve actually practiced balancing before, so I--”
“You’re going to practice today,” Uruha interrupted, and the chains tightened again until Miyavi really was forced to stand on his toes. He heard a duller sound then, like the chains were clanking against wood, and then he felt Uruha standing close to him once more.
“Each time you lose your balance,” Uruha continued, “you’ll get three lashes with this.” Miyavi then felt the tassels of a flogger trailing lightly along his ass and he very nearly lost his balance right then, shuddering at the soft touch of leather on his skin.
“Good,” Uruha told him, just barely pressing his lips to the back of Miyavi’s neck. “If you lose your balance, the chains will keep you from falling; they will keep you suspended, but you had better get back on your toes quickly. I will not let you come until I’m satisfied with your ability to balance. Do you understand, Miyavi?”
“Yes,” Miyavi replied, voice barely above a whisper. He knew - he just knew - that this sort of ‘balancing act’ would take practice, and he would fail several times before getting the hang of it. He was no ballet dancer-he was not used to standing on his toes, and he knew that Uruha was well aware of that fact. This was the game that Uruha wanted to play, and Miyavi had no choice but to play to the best of his ability.
“You may open your eyes now.” Uruha’s husky voice issued from somewhere below, nearer to the floor, but when Miyavi opened his eyes, the first thing he looked at was not Uruha. His gaze moved upwards, landing on the cuffs around his wrists, and then his eyes followed the chains, lingering on the two metal loops in the ceiling which the chains were threaded through. He couldn’t turn his head far enough to see what the chains were attached to, though he could see the foot of Uruha’s bed out of the corner of his eye, and he guessed that the chains were secured around the spindles of the headboard. A glance at the mirror told him that he was correct in his assumption.
“Well?” Uruha asked, and only then did Miyavi look down, seeing that Uruha’s mouth was very close to his erection and the blonde was looking up at him sultrily through his lashes. It was quite a sight, Uruha on his knees before him, lips slightly parted, eyes promising that he would make this good for Miyavi, provided that Miyavi - quite literally - stayed on his toes.
“W-what?” Miyavi asked, fighting for concentration, fighting to keep still and to keep his balance.
“Do you want my mouth on your cock?” The question was direct and required only a simple yes or no. There was no way in hell that Miyavi would have said no, either, even if Uruha hadn’t been looking at him like he currently was.
“Yes,” Miyavi replied, breath catching in his throat the instant Uruha leaned down, lips wrapping around the head of his cock, tongue teasing the sensitive area surrounding the piercing just below the head. That was the moment that Miyavi realized just how difficult keeping his balance would be. He had been doing okay, he thought, up to the point when he felt Uruha’s warm, wet mouth on him. It was then that his concentration was broken, and he wobbled, losing his balance for the first time that afternoon, and he knew that it was only the first of many-how was he expected to keep his balance if his lover was going to torture him like that?
The second he lost his footing and was left suspended in midair, struggling to touch his toes to the floor and rebalance himself, Uruha’s mouth left him; the blonde guitarist stood, shaking his head and tsking softly. “Oh, that’s too bad,” he said in a tone that was a mockery of sympathy. “I thought you would do better than that.” He moved so that he was standing behind Miyavi, and Miyavi heard - and most definitely felt - the leather smack against his skin as Uruha brought the flogger down, delivering three blows, as was promised.
“Again,” Uruha commanded, voice low, and Miyavi scrambled to find his balance once more. His concentration had been broken, and it wasn’t easy to regain it; the lack of concentration accounted for the fumbling and the delay, and his lover apparently was not very patient today. “You’re going to have to be much quicker than this,” he told Miyavi, long fingers trailing teasingly along his hip and outer thigh.
Miyavi, who had finally managed to settle himself on his toes once more, teetered dangerously when those fingers brushed against his skin, but he managed to stay balanced this time. Again, he was quite proud of himself, until Uruha’s fingers wrapped around his length and he reflexively thrust his hips forward into his fist, succeeding in losing his balance yet again and earning himself three more lashes from the flogger.
And so, the game went on like this for what felt like hours: Miyavi would regain his balance only to lose it fairly quickly when Uruha would touch him, and Uruha would punish him for losing his balance. Finally, finally, Miyavi managed to get the hang of it, and he did not falter even when Uruha pushed two fingers (slick with sweat and Miyavi’s saliva) inside of his body and curled them, brushing the tips of them against his prostate.
Miyavi had lost count of how many times the leather tassels of the flogger had kissed his skin, and he had lost count of how many times he had begged Uruha to stop torturing him and just fuck him already. He was pouring sweat and breathing heavily; his whole body ached, and he knew without looking that his entire backside - from his shoulder blades to upper thighs - was red. There would probably be bruises later as well. His toes were killing him (he was sure they’d hurt a lot worse tomorrow) and his calf muscles burned. His arms would be very sore tomorrow too, but it was all worth it now, because he was balanced. He was balanced, and Uruha’s fingers were inside of him, rewarding him with a very different sort of burn-one that did not go unappreciated. The fingers of Uruha’s other hand were curled around Miyavi’s length, stroking him slowly, building that sweet ache between his legs.
“Very good,” Uruha praised, twisting his wrist and thrusting his fingers inside of him in such a delicious manner that he almost stumbled. He did sway slightly, but his toes remained in contact with the floor, and that was the most important thing.
Uruha’s fingers left him and Miyavi made a soft hiss of protest at the loss of them, though any further protests died in his throat when Uruha wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. “You can relax now; I’ve got you.”
Miyavi exhaled slowly and allowed himself to rest back against his lover’s body, now that he no longer had to worry about keeping himself balanced. Now, he was free to fully concentrate on the feel of Uruha’s hand moving along his cock as that hand pumped him harder and faster, fingers squeezing every now and again, helping to heighten the pleasure and helping to push him closer to release.
“Uruha,” Miyavi gasped out in between moans, “why…?”
He felt Uruha smile against his neck, and though he hadn’t finished his question, he knew that Uruha understood it nonetheless. “Soon,” Uruha murmured, voice full of promise and desire. “I’ll be inside of you soon….”
Miyavi took Uruha’s word for it; truth be told, he couldn’t have managed to do anything else, because suddenly he was writhing against Uruha, writhing and coming, Uruha’s name falling from his lips over and over again as his body jerked and his cum spilled over onto the blonde’s hand.
Miyavi was still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm when Uruha released him from his bonds and led him to the bed. “Lie on your stomach,” Uruha said, and when he complied, Uruha leaned over him, beginning to soothe the kisses delivered by the flogger with kisses of his own. Lips and tongue caressed reddened skin, pausing (purposefully, no doubt) at ticklish areas, making Miyavi smile.
Uruha moved lower, kissing the dip in Miyavi’s spine, and lower still until his lips brushed against the top of the curve of his ass. Then he paused, and Miyavi made a low, needy sound, lifting his hips ever so slightly, asking for more without using words to do so.
Uruha obliged him, gently spreading Miyavi’s cheeks apart with his hands as his tongue followed the crack of his ass, eventually circling slowly around that tight ring of muscle, making Miyavi shudder and arch his back. He was gifted with a few more swipes of Uruha’s tongue, but just when he thought that that tongue might enter him, Uruha moved on, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his thighs instead.
Miyavi whimpered, caught somewhere between pleasure and frustration, and Uruha reached around, fingers finding his half-hard cock and stroking it to full hardness. Miyavi felt that he was surely going mad, falling apart, all due to Uruha’s mouth and hands. But if this was madness, he sure as hell didn’t mind being labeled insane.
All too soon, those hands and that mouth left him, but before Miyavi could even open his mouth to ask his lover to not stop, Uruha spoke: “Turn over,” he breathed. “I want you on your back.”
Miyavi was all too willing to obey. He rolled over onto his back, thighs spread, hands reaching for Uruha, and the blonde went to him, only pausing for the sake of lube. Within moments, Uruha was inside of him, building a slow rhythm that he met easily. Right now, there was no rush, no need to hurry, and it surprised Miyavi that Uruha was going so slowly-he had seemed impatient earlier. But that was one of the many beautiful things about Uruha: he was full of surprises. He could be gentle and he could be rough; he could be merciful and he could be merciless; he could provide pleasure and he could provide pain (and Miyavi had learned quickly with Uruha that pain can be a pleasure in and of itself). Miyavi’s lover could be a thousand things at any one time, and he loved that about him.
There was nothing frantic about their lovemaking: their bodies moved slowly and sensually together, and the pleasure gradually built between them. Though Uruha’s thrusts were slow, they were anything but shallow. He shoved himself deeply inside of Miyavi, pulled back and repeated the motion, and Miyavi groaned helplessly and writhed beneath him, rocking his own hips upwards to meet the undulations of Uruha’s hips.
Their rhythm did not falter even when Miyavi slid a hand between their bodies and closed his fist around his own cock. Their rhythm did not falter when Uruha moved to link his fingers with Miyavi’s, helping to stroke him. Their rhythm did not falter when Uruha looked down at Miyavi with half-closed, glazed-over eyes, though it very nearly did because that look made Miyavi forget to breathe for several seconds, and he only remembered to draw breath when his vision darkened somewhat and his head began to swim.
Their rhythm did falter when Miyavi came for the second time that afternoon, his body jerking and writhing uncontrollably, muscles clamping down around Uruha’s cock over and over again. The blonde paused and leaned down, pressing his lips to Miyavi’s, and the sounds that Miyavi was making (mostly Uruha’s name) rapidly became lost in their kiss. Uruha continued to kiss him even as he resumed fucking him, and even when Uruha came himself, the kiss remained unbroken.
They eventually broke apart, their heavy breathing and the rapid beating of his own heart loud in Miyavi’s ears. Uruha leaned down again, kissing Miyavi lightly before moving back, slipping out of him and sliding out of bed, heading for the bathroom. Miyavi watched him as he walked, taking a moment to appreciate his beauty. Something twisted inside of his chest (it felt like something twisted, anyway), though it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. After being with Uruha for a little over half a year, Miyavi was used to this feeling by now.
Uruha returned with a couple of damp cloths, which he and Miyavi used to clean themselves up a little. Afterwards, they curled up together in the bed, a tangle of arms and legs, forehead-to-forehead, breaths mingling.
“Just so you know, I’ve never had to do anything like that before,” Miyavi said, wrinkling his nose slightly at his lover. “That was torturous, and I’m going to be very sore later.” He was already sore now, but he knew it would get worse.
Uruha rolled his eyes and smiled. “I know, you dork. But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He ran his fingers along Miyavi’s side, and Miyavi shivered and nodded. “Besides, you learned.” There was a pause, and then he chuckled. “Do you realize how much you talk when I’ve got you at my mercy? You begged me to fuck you when you were struggling to keep your balance. You said my name so many times….”
Miyavi could feel himself blushing. “Shut up. You like to hear me beg.”
“I do,” Uruha agreed, sliding one leg between both of Miyavi’s. “It turns me on,” he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.
Miyavi shivered again and pressed closer to him. “Do you want to hear me beg some more?” he asked, running his fingers over Uruha’s cheek. “I like to beg for you.”
“Yes,” Uruha replied, leaning into Miyavi’s touch. “I want to hear you beg for me some more. You will beg for me.” His words, Miyavi knew, were a promise. “You’re going to beg me until you can’t make sense of your own words. You’re going to scream for me until your voice is hoarse. There are plenty of other things we can play with, after all.”
“Mmm. Looking forward to it.” And Miyavi was looking forward to it.
They had the rest of the afternoon and the entire night ahead of them, and Miyavi knew, without a doubt, that they were going to put those hours to very good use.
~END~
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My Uruha is getting extremely fond of being the one in control. XD;;;