Kink Bingo_Class Fantasy
Title: Leather Dreams
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Shou, implied Tora x Shou
Genre: PWP, hints of fluff
Warnings: Masturbation, semi-public sex, mentions of male x male, foul language, adult themes
Summary: Sometimes Shou can' t help himself but dream about what the future has in store for him.
Commentary: Whew long time no see y'all! As some of you might have read in my latest personal entry, I was off stuffing my face with my mom's food babysitting my monstrous siblings for the week while my mom went on vacay so I was pretty quiet around here, but I'm back! Yay! This is my offering for the "Class Fantasy" square on my kink-bingo card, and as per my usual habit I decided to take a completely unusual spin on it and this came out of it. I hope you guys will enjoy this :) It takes place just before Alice Nine started as a band...
***
It was the fifth time Shou was walking by the store this week. He just couldn't help it.
It was on the way to his work at the modelling agency, where he struggled daily to make ends meet while his music career slowly took off. Very, very slowly.
His two first bands had ended in failure, the first one dismal, the second one not so much because he had made a great, like-minded friend, and lover, in the shape of a talented, beautiful raven-haired guitarist. He was hoping that this third band would be his final one. They were still bouncing around names and styles, but there was a cohesion to them that there hadn't been in his previous bands. Things were looking up.
Maybe it was the positive thinking that got him to enter the store that day, instead of walking by and looking longingly through the window.
The bell chimed as he entered the store, and an elegant salesgirl welcomed him with a smile, eyeing his rather eclectic style with an arched eyebrow and his face with appreciation, an odd mix. He didn't need help picking things out however, he already knew what he wanted to try.
"That outfit in the window, with the leather jacket, could I try it on?" he asked politely in his low, reedy voice.
She nodded.
"Of course! I'll gather the separates for you…size small right?"
He nodded with a shy, slightly embarrassed smile. He knew that he was skin and bones, and not really by choice, a little too broke to eat properly on a regular basis. He and Tora had pooled all their savings to rent a studio space, and they survived however they could, the both of them too proud to ask their parents for help. It wasn't much, but at least they had a roof over their heads, a bed they shared, and they could write music, who cared that they ate instant noodles and rice every day. Music was all that mattered. Music and each other.
He looked on as the girl gathered the clothing quickly and efficiently, setting it all down in a large dressing room fitted with mirrors.
"If you need anything else please don't hesitate, I'll be over at the register." the girl supplied, walking back to the counter where the register and the jewelry displays were.
The store was empty this early in the day, it was only him and the salesgirl, and somehow that made him feel more at ease. He entered the large dressing room and shut the door behind himself, locking it. It was one of those large rooms with mirrors on each wall, and flattering lighting, unlike the ones you found in the average department store.
Despite the flattering lighting, he could easily see that he looked beyond tired, shadows underneath his eyes, hollows underneath sharp cheekbones, his skin milk-pale and a little waxy even. He winced at the dark circles, knowing that the makeup artist at the agency would complain at having to make him presentable for his photoshoot. He always gave them a lot of work, with his long, silvery blonde unmanageable hair and tired face, but at least he did the job right. And there was the clothing too, a pair of scuffed sneakers, and tight jeans a thousand times mended at the knees, a black band tee pilfered from Tora's pile, worn soft and thin, loose on his slender frame. And then a hoodie, black with a subtle grey pattern, altered here and there with rips and decorative zippers. He looked like the average teenager, which he was. But he ached to be more, so much more, grow into that rockstar that he had in his heart.
And that was why he was here today, to get a glimpse of that rock star within.
He took off his messenger bag and hung it on a hook, followed by the hoodie. He slipped out of the soft tee, stepped out of his mud-stained, worn sneakers, and then his hands were at the tab of his studded belt, prying it off along with the zipper closure of his jeans. He pushed the fabric down his slender thighs, carefully piling each article of clothing on the hooks. Until he stood there pale and frail under the warm light, naked but for dark grey boxers. He examined his body intently, the sharp angles of collarbones, the hint of ribs, the way his belly caved in very slightly, tense skin. He appreciated how his waist narrowed delicately, the smooth flare of narrow hips and sharp bones, long, slender thighs. He fingered the purple and red mark underneath his belly button, and the other in the hollow of his hip with a little smile. Making love with a tiger held its share of risks. Risks he gladly took night after night in their narrow bed, whispers of sheets and lips and bated breath, and then release and calm and sweet murmurs mouthed against his neck in a soft, husky barytone.
We'll make it baby, don't worry…
He believed him. Wanted to believe him, and once again he wondered if the previous night's tenderness and sweet reassurances on their unsteady future had somehow given him the courage to enter the little store that day. He grabbed on to the clothes the salesgirl had put together for him and laid them out reverently on the little bench recessed against the wall, freeing them of their hangers.
He took a deep breath and picked up the jeans first. Smooth, soft, perfectly worn in all the right places like his oldest, favourite pair, dark denim of the highest possible quality. A dark grey wash, studded detailing on the side seams and careful, neatly ripped openings at the knees and thighs. He stepped into them and carefully worked the luxurious fabric up his pale thighs, the garment moulding his every curve like a second skin, caressing and silk soft. They fit like a glove.
He zipped them up carefully, tucking himself in, and then reached for the tee next. A soft white tee, brushed cotton with an artfully silk-screened skull design. It slithered in his hands like a living thing, the fabric filmy and thin and perfectly textured, sliding over his skin like silk as it fell in calculated drapes on his slender body. It felt like one of Tora's old band tees, like the one he was wearing today, washed and worn a thousand times yet all the seams were tight and perfect, the print vibrant and defined.
But the piece he really wanted to try came last. The one that had caught his eye and fed all his fantasies and desires. He picked it up reverently, carefully pushing his arms through the tight sleeves as it draped over his body with delicious weight.
A black leather jacket, with a modern biker cut, narrow sleeves and a high collar sitting against his neck, zippers and buckles adorning it in a rough yet elegant manner. It was subdued yet screamed fashionable rockstar. The leather felt buttery soft underneath his fingertips, giving in to pressure yet bouncing right back with the elasticity of high quality skin. It fell across his shoulders, heavy and cool, embraced his arms, chest, in a veil of musky luxurious scent. He'd always loved the scent of leather, and he felt an intense rush at being enveloped in it in the dimmed confines of the dressing room.
Lust seeped into his blood unbidden yet expected. It had been lurking in his blood from the moment he had slipped into the jeans, a tight heat in his lower belly. He gave into it as he leaned back against the door of the dressing room, admiring his glamourous reflection in the full length mirror from underneath heavy lidded eyes. Aroused by the very idea of being clothed head to toe in an outfit he would have to max out every single credit card he and Tora owned to possess. The trappings of the rockstar he so desired to be.
His hands slipped down the front of the jacket, delighting in the firm slide of leather, the silky softness of the tee, and he closed his eyes when fingertips reached the closure of the jeans, breathing deep. Soaking up the scent of leather and luxurious fabric as his right hand splayed on the slope of his lower belly, the left prying the jeans open. He let his fingers push down, past the waistband of his underwear, delving in and meeting hot velvet skin as his head fell back, ears filled with the heavy thudding of his heart in his ribcage. Would it feel the same when he would stand just offstage waiting to get on? The excitement, his heart racing. Would the clapping and chant of the crowd match that heavy rhythm dictated by his blood?
That throbbing, pulsing ache for adoration, for recognition?
He pulled erect flesh out of the tight confines with a muted hiss, aware of his body, of the edges of the leather sleeve pushing against soft skin, of the dulled sounds the salesgirl made on the other side of the door. Hot and moist in the palm of his hand as he cupped himself, the weight of his arousal pushing against his fingers, aching to be touched and rubbed and caressed.
He thought of his lover, dark haired and fair eyed and glorious, and of how gorgeous he would look equally adorned in designer jeans and leather. Of how perfect they would be onstage side by side, doing what they do best, entertaining a loving crowd, drunk on their screams and cheers and pure adoration. His hand wrapped tight around the shaft of his cock and he stroked, slow and slick, muffling his groan in the collar of the jacket, breathing in a mouthful of musky leather.
He tugged, fingers coming away slick with clear pre-come, easing the downward slide of his hand towards the base and he arched into the caress, spine locking, skin tingling in an avalanche of sensation. Each nerve ending in his body came alive, knowing that what he was doing was wrong, so wrong yet felt so right, jerking himself off to the fantasy of owning this outfit he couldn't even dream to afford. Getting off on the fantasy of success and unconditional love from adoring fans, on the fantasy of being able to give his beloved anything he could dream of. Just because he could.
Stars danced in his hazy vision, light headed with pleasure as his fingers accelerated their wet up and down on his cock, his other hand clenching and sliding on the smooth leather covering his chest, pushing and rubbing against the hard bud of a nipple through the two layers of fabric. Heat pooled in his stomach, a heady rush as he lost himself in the luxurious feeling that enveloped him like a caress. His breath caught in his throat as a hard stroke triggered the beginning of his orgasm, shook his entire frame with delicious tremors.
His mind slipped out of reality, and all he could think of was the sensory overload, tight jeans and silky cotton and the solid reality of leather, of his warm, slick hand on his cock and that rush of forbidden pleasure as he lavished in that outfit he couldn't have. Sweat pearled across his brow, hand slipping, slipping as the heat in his lower belly boiled and overspilled and he came with a gasp, head falling back against the door of the dressing room. His cock pulsed and throbbed, pearlescent come splattering across the mirror facing him in fat drops as his hand clenched and tugged him through the orgasm.
It took a few seconds of gasping and panting to collect himself, coming to terms with what he had just done with a mixture of awe and mild embarrassment, hand slick with his release. He reached into his bag with his clean hand and pulled out some tissues, wiping his palm and fingers, himself, a pink flush racing across his cheeks as he tucked himself back in, and then the mirror. He reluctantly shrugged out of the jacket, draping it back on the hanger, feeling bereft without it's comforting weight on his shoulders. Off came the tee and the jeans too, feeling intense loss at having the delicate garments pulled off his skin, like a lover pulling away after an intimate embrace. He dressed into his own clothes, stepping into the mended jeans, sliding into Tora's soft tee, zipping up his hoodie, looking at himself in the mirror to make sure he was well put together before gathering the pricey garb into his arms. He gave the jacket one last longing glance. One day. One day he would be able to afford it. He didn't know how long it would take, but he would own that little piece of the intricate dream he had for himself one day, that he was sure of.
He exited the sanctuary of the dressing room with a sigh, getting the attention of the salesgirl as he emerged.
"Was everything to your liking?"
"Yeah…well, it sat a little loose overall…" he lied, easily.
It was quite an easy lie considering how frail and delicate he was. She made a disappointed face, putting her hands out for the clothes, which he relinquished to her, blushing at the thought that he had jerked off minutes before, while wearing them.
"I could order extra small sizes if you'd like? All we need is a 50% deposit."
He almost gasped. Even a 50% deposit would pretty much put him in the hole. He nodded, plastering an easy, noncommittal smile on his plush lips.
"Thanks, but I guess I have to think about it…I really loved the jacket. I might come back for it."
She smiled and nodded.
"Is there anything else I could do for you?"
"No thanks, I have to head to work, actually…sorry to have bothered you…"
They both bowed to each other, a little awkwardly, and he took his leave, welcoming the fresh caress of the wind on his face as he stepped out onto the street, making his way to the agency.
Mind full of leather and dreams of fame.
***
Tora didn't like shopping too much, yet when Shou stopped in front of a little designer store on their way back from the studio, he paused, giving in to the slight tug of his lover's hand in his.
"See something that you like baby?" he asked.
Shou nodded, smirking.
"I used to stop by here back then, when I worked for the modelling agency, remember?"
Tora whistled, gathering his slender lover in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his nape.
"That was years ago baby…like what, four years, five?"
Their band had taken off full force since then, selling records, going major, touring across the country with brief stints overseas. Not nearly enough to his taste, but it was something. They were still growing, steady and sure, climbing the ladder of fame faster than either of them had even expected to. They were still together, years later, and very much in love.
"Yeah, five years or so…Do you mind if I go in a few minutes, I want to check something out."
"As long as we go eat something after, I don't mind." Tora answered teasingly, palming his lover's lower back as they ascended the few steps.
There was a young salesgirl behind the counter, and she greeted them with a low bow and a slight flush. They were two handsome men after all.
"How could I assist you today?" she asked politely.
"Actually," Shou started, "I'm looking for an older piece, something you might have had five or so years ago."
The girl nodded.
"We do keep old samples sometimes since this is the flagship store, what kind of piece were you looking for?"
"A leather jacket, with a high collar and narrow sleeves, and buckles here." he explained, gesturing at his hip.
"Hmm, that sounds familiar. Let me go have a look in the back store…"
The girl disappeared behind a door and Tora studied his lover with quiet awe.
"Wow…you sure do know what you're looking for."
Shou shrugged, a little secret smile twisting his lips. The girl emerged with a garment bag and a pleased look. She laid it out on the counter and unzipped the dark nylon.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
Shou let out a little excited gasp as he parted the edges of the bag. In it was a lovely, black, buttery leather jacket with an elegant yet edgy cut, adorned with silver zippers and buckles. A gorgeous piece.
"Oh my god…yes! That's exactly the one…what size is this?" Shou asked excitedly.
"Small." the girl replied, looking pleased at having found what her customer was looking for.
"I'll take it." Shou declared with finality, taking his credit card out of his wallet.
The girl gave him a puzzled glance.
"Don't you want to try it?"
Shou grinned then, and there was a feral, dirty quality to that grin that Tora enjoyed very much. That jacket had a story, and he couldn't wait to hear it.
"There's no need. It will fit perfectly."
***
So this was short and sweet…and dirty XD What do you guys think? Once again I wanted to go a different route with this particular square, since the "Class Fantasy" tag on kink bingo is chock full of maid and handyman stories. I decided to have Shou get off on the idea of belonging to an "upper class" in a sense, to fetishize the trappings of a rockstar in a setting where clearly he didn't belong. It still works within the criteria of the square and I'm surprised I haven't seen anything similar in the fandoms I checked out on KB. Anyway, this was loads of fun to write, I've always wanted to write a masturbation fic that relies solely on self satisfaction rather than involving a partner, and it was challenging in a way but I really enjoyed it. I hope you guys enjoyed this too ;D I have a few more KB squares to write (18 to be exact) and I'm working on a few at the same time, I have a feeling the "Held-Down" square might be next, although "Teasing" and "Pictures" are progressing rather nicely too so who knows…Its always a surprise where my muses are taking me with KB so anything could happen…Take care y'all xoxo