fqf re-post
Title: Aural Fixation
Pairing/Group: Masuda Takahisa/Nakamaru Yuichi
Rating/Warnings: NC-17-- rimming
Word Count: 2883
Summary: Nakamaru must be seeing things. Or maybe he isn’t.
Notes: It was a tough decision to choose what to write (or maybe not). Anyway, ryogrande, I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to elizajet for beta-ing. <3<3
Originally posted here.
Nakamaru is having an afternoon out with Massu on a scarce day off when it strikes him. The late afternoon sun glints off of something in Massu’s left ear as he animatedly talks about the latest gyoza restaurant he’s been to, and Nakamaru is immediately curious. He misses the last part of what Massu says, feeling foolish as he eloquently responds with an absent “Huh?”
Nakamaru hopes his expression isn’t as ridiculous as he feels, even if he has been told that he has an excellent poker face (though in Koki’s case, it had been said with more petulance than admiration).
Massu looks back at him, brow furrowed and lips slightly pouting, and Nakamaru is slightly alarmed to notice such things. It’s not like he goes around checking out other guys, even if his band mates can’t seem to stay dressed, especially during concert season.
The moment passes, and he chalks it up to a hallucination brought on by tour exhaustion. Massu’s pout has disappeared, and their conversation picks back up; Nakamaru focuses once more and follows the thread.
He misses the musing look that flits across Massu’s face when he glances down at his watch.
*
Weeks have passed, and Nakamaru’s forgotten all about the glint of metal he imagined in Massu’s ear. He’s also forgotten the way it had stopped him in his tracks, figuratively speaking.
It comes up again on another day together, a brief flash catching Nakamaru’s attention. He can’t stop staring; the angular metal intrigues him, and Massu catches him staring. Nakamaru yanks his gaze from Massu’s ear, mentally cursing himself when his stare zeroes in on Massu’s full lower lip. Maybe if he plays it cool, Massu won’t notice, and Nakamaru won’t have to lock himself in his apartment out of shame.
Once again, he misses the fact that Massu only looks contemplative, and not upset about Nakamaru’s newfound staring problem.
*
Now that Nakamaru knows he was never imagining things, he can’t stop thinking about it. Is it an actual piercing? Or is it just a cuff? He’s only seen it intermittently, so it must not be pierced. All Nakamaru knows is that he feels the need to touch it, feel the cool metal against his fingertips, and to do so preferably with his mouth.
Nakamaru feels a little embarrassed about his fixation, but he’s been able to keep it from his band mates, though he knows that if they get the slightest whiff of it they’ll tease him mercilessly. In some aspects they’re like sharks scenting the tiniest drop of blood in the water, and he tries his best not to think about any modifications his best friend may or may not have while he’s with his group.
Of course, that means the times he slips up and thinks too much about Massu, he has to cover up the noises he really wants to make with basslines and clicks while he’s furiously jerking himself off in the showers of too many shared dressing rooms and hotels. At least Kame has the decency to only stick around long enough to spin amusing tales about him beatboxing in the shower.
*
Nakamaru has a few free days to himself, which he plans to use wisely by staying home, lazing about his apartment, and finishing up some assignments that he’s neglected a bit too long.
He’s made plenty of progress on a research paper, still in his thin pyjama pants and a worn t-shirt. Nakamaru is about to take a break from his coursework to relax and give his brain, as well as his writing hand, a chance to rest. The happy chime of his doorbell interrupts him, though, and he peels himself from his couch to shuffle across the room and answer it.
Massu is standing on his doorstep, dimply smile and fluorescent pants a welcome change from endless lines of text and the slightly cloudy sky. Nakamaru also notes the silvery bronze flash of his current fixation peeking through the cherry-red strands of Massu’s hair and stands in the doorway, frozen for a moment. Gently, Massu pushes past him to toe off his sneakers, grinning all the while.
“You should close the door, and also your mouth, Nakamaru-kun. Wouldn’t want to catch any flies in there, you know?” Nakamaru does as he’s told, throwing the locks behind him and striding into the kitchen, ever the gracious host in the face of Massu’s teasing.
“Can I get you anything?” Nakamaru calls from within the depths of his fridge, certain that he has something to drink other than bottled water.
“Yeah, there is. I need to borrow your shower. With you in it,” is the cocky and quite unexpected response. Nakamaru bangs his head on the edge of the door when he hears Massu’s answer, cursing softly. Surely he imagined that.
He wanders back into his living room, absently running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Massu scoffs, rising from his seat to wrap warm fingers around Nakamaru’s wrist and pull him to his own bathroom. He follows along, a bit too surprised to protest. Once they’re both fully in the bathroom, Massu pushes the door shut behind them, nicely muscled arm brushing against Nakamaru’s side, and he tries his best not to shy away nor stare too long.
Massu turns his back on Nakamaru as he fiddles with the tap, letting the water warm up as he returns his attention to Nakamaru. He’s still grinning, though the edges have softened a bit since Nakamaru first let him into his flat. Slowly, like he’s approaching a scared animal, Massu places his hands on Nakamaru’s shoulders. He trails his fingers down his arms lightly, clasping hands for just a moment, then steps closer and slips both hands under Nakamaru’s shirt, almost cheek to cheek with him. Massu’s lips are just barely brushing the shell of his ear, and he has to close his eyes to focus on what’s being said. “Yuichi, you’ve not been very subtle, you know. I’m about to do some things, and I don’t mind at all if you reciprocate.” The words are punctuated with a slow swipe of Massu’s tongue along the edge of Nakamaru’s ear, and he’s unable to stifle the shocked noise he utters.
Nakamaru is quick to engage, his own hands fisting the hem of Massu’s vibrant orange shirt as he cautiously presses his own full lips to Massu’s, tongues slipping together. Their kiss continues until Nakamaru tears himself away, eyes questioning. “You don’t mind... if I do this?”
This happens to be what Nakamaru has been daydreaming about over the past few months. He threads his fingers into Massu’s hair, combing it back enough to expose the cuff in Massu’s ear. Nakamaru makes eye contact with Massu as his thumb grazes the edge of the metal, before he leans in to trace his tongue along its edge and the shell of Massu’s ear.
A deep noise of appreciation rumbles beneath Nakamaru’s lips as he trails them along Massu’s neck, stopping at a collarbone to nibble and suck his mark there. Massu retaliates, sliding his palms up Nakamaru’s sides, bringing the shirt with them, pausing to playfully pinch his nipples. Nakamaru gasps, eyes darting to meet Massu’s, and he pulls away to helpfully raise his arms for Massu to slip his shirt off. It gets dropped in the hamper and Massu makes short work of the pyjama pants as well, warm palms sliding them down Nakamaru’s legs as he leans against the door, fists clenched. He’s already half-hard, unaware of the fact until Massu trails fingers along his length.
Nakamaru’s gasp only encourages Massu to wrap his hand around him, stroking him to full hardness before withdrawing to slip out of his own clothes and neatly place them on the bathroom counter. Massu holds out a hand, smiling as Nakamaru takes it, and he guides them both under the warm shower spray. It’s a bit cramped with the both of them, but Nakamaru can’t worry about that now. He’s pressed against the wall of his own shower, doing his best to bite back high-pitched moans as his best friend licks and kisses his way down his chest, occasionally sliding blunt fingernails along his sides. Nakamaru has always prided himself on his ability to prioritize.
His attention snaps back to the present when he feels a warm tongue swirling around the head of his cock and fingers gently massaging his balls. Nakamaru looks down, feeling a bit incredulous and a lot turned on by the vision Massu makes. He’s peering up at Nakamaru from beneath his damp bangs, eyes laughing and holding so much promise. Nakamaru shakily reaches a hand down to comb through Massu’s hair, accidentally pulling in shock when Massu surges forward around his cock, slurping him down like some sort of treat.
The deep moan around his cock makes Nakamaru scrabble his fingers deeper into Massu’s hair. He finally settles them at the base of Massu’s skull, holding the other in place as he does his best not to thrust viciously. Nakamaru whines when Massu drags his lips away with a slick pop, trying not to look disappointed.
He gapes as Massu smirks up at him, voice a husky rumble. “Yuichi, I want to hear you fall apart. I want you to scream for me.”
Massu dives back in, wrenching a throaty moan from Nakamaru. His knees feel weak, and all Nakamaru seems to be able to do is feebly hang onto Massu’s shoulders. The only thing he knows is the slick wet heat from his best friend’s mouth, and the warmth of the water pounding down on them both. Massu does something with his tongue and moans, and Nakamaru can barely gasp out a warning before his hips buck and it’s out of his control, body stilling under Massu’s strong grip on his thighs.
Nakamaru pants weakly, leaning against the wall as he recovers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He watches Massu rise to his full height, and he’s not sure what possesses him but the next thing he realizes is that he’s crushed Massu in his arms. He licks at Massu’s lips, tasting himself, unable to restrain his shrill moan as he feels the other’s erection digging into his thigh. Nakamaru is sure he should be more freaked out about what is happening in his shower, but he can’t be bothered with that as he’s overwhelmed by sensation. He pulls back to whisper against the corner of Massu’s mouth. “Takahisa....”
“Let me make you feel good, Yuichi.” Massu’s words are a rich whisper in his ear, and Nakamaru nods mutely. The rest of the shower passes in a whirl of soap suds and lingering touches, and after years of friendship Massu already knows where Nakamaru keeps the towels and is well on his way to dry by the time he shuts off the water. One of his fluffier towels accosts him as he steps onto the bathmat, and Nakamaru flails a hand to get some semblance of control. As soon as he’s mostly dry and wrapped in a towel, Massu hooks fingers into the knot at his waist and teasingly pulls Nakamaru to his bedroom.
Massu lets go long enough to drape his towel over the back of the desk chair conveniently close to Nakamaru’s bed, then his hands are wrapping around Nakamaru’s shoulders once more, pulling him in for a blazing kiss. As their tongues battle for dominance, Nakamaru shucks his towel off and tosses it toward what he hopes is his chair. He’s far more concerned with pushing Massu to the bed.
Massu allows himself to fall back onto the bed, keeping a firm grip on Nakamaru and dragging him down. There are a few confused moments of rolling around and and gasping, and Nakamaru finds himself trapped beneath Massu. He pauses for a moment, studying Massu’s smiling face, then frames it with delicate fingers and pulls him down for one more kiss. “Taka, everything we need is in the nightstand. Please take care of me.”
Massu makes a pleased noise as he laps Nakamaru’s words up before pulling back. Nakamaru watches him rifle through the drawer as he shifts into a more comfortable position and allows his legs to fall open. Massu presses a tender kiss to Nakamaru’s lips once he’s found the lube and rolled on a condom, then he sits back, popping the cap open. He maintains eye contact as he slicks his fingers and trails them lightly up the insides of Nakamaru’s thighs, stilling for a moment as if he’s waiting for something. Nakamaru nods, unsure of where to put his hands. Massu grabs one with his free hand, lacing their fingers together as the fingers of his other hand circle Nakamaru’s rim.
Nakamaru gasps, and Massu slips a single finger inside, gently twisting. It feels a bit strange, but it’s nothing unbearable and Nakamaru squeezes Massu’s hand, hoping he gets the message. Massu does, and he smirks down at him as he adds another finger, pressing them in and out progressively faster. Nakamaru’s eyes close of their own accord and he feels Massu shift around. Massu lets go of his hand in favor of grabbing a handful of thigh, holding him even further open. Nakamaru is unprepared for hot breath and the wet swipe of Massu’s tongue against the soft skin in the crease of his thigh. He starts, jerking forward in an attempt to reach for Massu, but he’s halted by fingers digging into his leg at the same time the fingers inside him spread open to permit Massu’s tongue to slip between them.
Nakamaru can’t hold back his moan of surprise, and they continue getting louder the longer Massu thrusts his tongue inside him. He’s mortified and aroused, and he wishes it would never end. He clutches fistfuls of sheets, groaning when a finger grazes a spot that has him jerking his hips in an attempt to feel it again. Massu obliges, sinful tongue withdrawing in order to press it more firmly with his fingers.
“Fuck me, Takahisa.” Nakamaru has long since abandoned any lingering embarrassment in favor of the way Massu feels inside him. “Now.”
It feels strange, Massu’s laughter rumbling between his legs, and Nakamaru groans. He feels so empty and exposed for the few moments it takes Massu to lube his cock. Finally, Massu is leaning over him, pressing into him, and Nakamaru feels fuller than he ever has before. Massu pushes in as he holds Nakamaru’s hands above his head, stopping as he looks him in the eyes. Nakamaru returns the gaze, but can’t wait for Massu any longer and he wraps his legs around his waist, punctuating his demands with a light kick. “What are you waiting for? Are you tired already?”
Massu chuckles and leans forward to press a kiss to the side of Nakamaru’s neck, making a surprised noise when he turns his head in an attempt to capture Massu’s lips. “You do realize what I was doing, don’t you?”
“I do, and I obviously don’t care.” Nakamaru is getting impatient; he shifts beneath Massu and moans as he feels a fresh wave of arousal.
Massu’s only response is to kiss him deeply. Then he pulls out almost painfully slowly, smirking down at Nakamaru. The first thrust is also as slow, then Massu speeds up and Nakamaru has trouble doing much more than moaning and clenching Massu’s fingers, and attempting to take him in deeper by digging his heels into Massu’s ass.
That finally prods Massu into action, and Nakamaru rolls his hips with the movements. Massu shifts his grip, hitching Nakamaru’s legs more firmly around himself and pushing in even deeper. Their rhythm gets faster and faster, Nakamaru’s motions becoming less coordinated the closer he gets to orgasm. It feels like Massu is having to fuck him harder, and it’s all Nakamaru can do to get a hand between them and around his own cock.
Massu leans forward as much as he can, and Nakamaru leans up to close the distance. Their lips brush together, and Massu murmurs into the kiss. “Yuichi, come for me.”
That’s all that Nakamaru needs to fall over the edge, hand faltering as he cries out his orgasm. For a second he sees only white, and barely registers that Massu has stilled, pulsing inside him. He slumps bonelessly, whimpering a little from the awkward discomfort of Massu pulling out. They lay there panting until Massu finally gathers enough energy to roll off of him, heading to the bathroom to clean up. Nakamaru feels sure that he’ll never get out of bed again, especially if Massu is there with him. He gingerly rolls onto his stomach, content to doze. Nakamaru blinks open his eyes when he feels the bed dip, and smiles hazily up at Massu.
“So, Yuichi. Didn’t know you had a thing for ears.” Massu looks sort of smug and self-satisfied, and Nakamaru is okay with that. He’s pretty satisfied too, but he has to add one thing.
“Nah, I just like yours.” Nakamaru slips out of bed to rinse off before rejoining Massu. He’s got plans for Massu, and not just his ear.
Pairing/Group: Masuda Takahisa/Nakamaru Yuichi
Rating/Warnings: NC-17-- rimming
Word Count: 2883
Summary: Nakamaru must be seeing things. Or maybe he isn’t.
Notes: It was a tough decision to choose what to write (or maybe not). Anyway, ryogrande, I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to elizajet for beta-ing. <3<3
Originally posted here.
Nakamaru is having an afternoon out with Massu on a scarce day off when it strikes him. The late afternoon sun glints off of something in Massu’s left ear as he animatedly talks about the latest gyoza restaurant he’s been to, and Nakamaru is immediately curious. He misses the last part of what Massu says, feeling foolish as he eloquently responds with an absent “Huh?”
Nakamaru hopes his expression isn’t as ridiculous as he feels, even if he has been told that he has an excellent poker face (though in Koki’s case, it had been said with more petulance than admiration).
Massu looks back at him, brow furrowed and lips slightly pouting, and Nakamaru is slightly alarmed to notice such things. It’s not like he goes around checking out other guys, even if his band mates can’t seem to stay dressed, especially during concert season.
The moment passes, and he chalks it up to a hallucination brought on by tour exhaustion. Massu’s pout has disappeared, and their conversation picks back up; Nakamaru focuses once more and follows the thread.
He misses the musing look that flits across Massu’s face when he glances down at his watch.
*
Weeks have passed, and Nakamaru’s forgotten all about the glint of metal he imagined in Massu’s ear. He’s also forgotten the way it had stopped him in his tracks, figuratively speaking.
It comes up again on another day together, a brief flash catching Nakamaru’s attention. He can’t stop staring; the angular metal intrigues him, and Massu catches him staring. Nakamaru yanks his gaze from Massu’s ear, mentally cursing himself when his stare zeroes in on Massu’s full lower lip. Maybe if he plays it cool, Massu won’t notice, and Nakamaru won’t have to lock himself in his apartment out of shame.
Once again, he misses the fact that Massu only looks contemplative, and not upset about Nakamaru’s newfound staring problem.
*
Now that Nakamaru knows he was never imagining things, he can’t stop thinking about it. Is it an actual piercing? Or is it just a cuff? He’s only seen it intermittently, so it must not be pierced. All Nakamaru knows is that he feels the need to touch it, feel the cool metal against his fingertips, and to do so preferably with his mouth.
Nakamaru feels a little embarrassed about his fixation, but he’s been able to keep it from his band mates, though he knows that if they get the slightest whiff of it they’ll tease him mercilessly. In some aspects they’re like sharks scenting the tiniest drop of blood in the water, and he tries his best not to think about any modifications his best friend may or may not have while he’s with his group.
Of course, that means the times he slips up and thinks too much about Massu, he has to cover up the noises he really wants to make with basslines and clicks while he’s furiously jerking himself off in the showers of too many shared dressing rooms and hotels. At least Kame has the decency to only stick around long enough to spin amusing tales about him beatboxing in the shower.
*
Nakamaru has a few free days to himself, which he plans to use wisely by staying home, lazing about his apartment, and finishing up some assignments that he’s neglected a bit too long.
He’s made plenty of progress on a research paper, still in his thin pyjama pants and a worn t-shirt. Nakamaru is about to take a break from his coursework to relax and give his brain, as well as his writing hand, a chance to rest. The happy chime of his doorbell interrupts him, though, and he peels himself from his couch to shuffle across the room and answer it.
Massu is standing on his doorstep, dimply smile and fluorescent pants a welcome change from endless lines of text and the slightly cloudy sky. Nakamaru also notes the silvery bronze flash of his current fixation peeking through the cherry-red strands of Massu’s hair and stands in the doorway, frozen for a moment. Gently, Massu pushes past him to toe off his sneakers, grinning all the while.
“You should close the door, and also your mouth, Nakamaru-kun. Wouldn’t want to catch any flies in there, you know?” Nakamaru does as he’s told, throwing the locks behind him and striding into the kitchen, ever the gracious host in the face of Massu’s teasing.
“Can I get you anything?” Nakamaru calls from within the depths of his fridge, certain that he has something to drink other than bottled water.
“Yeah, there is. I need to borrow your shower. With you in it,” is the cocky and quite unexpected response. Nakamaru bangs his head on the edge of the door when he hears Massu’s answer, cursing softly. Surely he imagined that.
He wanders back into his living room, absently running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Massu scoffs, rising from his seat to wrap warm fingers around Nakamaru’s wrist and pull him to his own bathroom. He follows along, a bit too surprised to protest. Once they’re both fully in the bathroom, Massu pushes the door shut behind them, nicely muscled arm brushing against Nakamaru’s side, and he tries his best not to shy away nor stare too long.
Massu turns his back on Nakamaru as he fiddles with the tap, letting the water warm up as he returns his attention to Nakamaru. He’s still grinning, though the edges have softened a bit since Nakamaru first let him into his flat. Slowly, like he’s approaching a scared animal, Massu places his hands on Nakamaru’s shoulders. He trails his fingers down his arms lightly, clasping hands for just a moment, then steps closer and slips both hands under Nakamaru’s shirt, almost cheek to cheek with him. Massu’s lips are just barely brushing the shell of his ear, and he has to close his eyes to focus on what’s being said. “Yuichi, you’ve not been very subtle, you know. I’m about to do some things, and I don’t mind at all if you reciprocate.” The words are punctuated with a slow swipe of Massu’s tongue along the edge of Nakamaru’s ear, and he’s unable to stifle the shocked noise he utters.
Nakamaru is quick to engage, his own hands fisting the hem of Massu’s vibrant orange shirt as he cautiously presses his own full lips to Massu’s, tongues slipping together. Their kiss continues until Nakamaru tears himself away, eyes questioning. “You don’t mind... if I do this?”
This happens to be what Nakamaru has been daydreaming about over the past few months. He threads his fingers into Massu’s hair, combing it back enough to expose the cuff in Massu’s ear. Nakamaru makes eye contact with Massu as his thumb grazes the edge of the metal, before he leans in to trace his tongue along its edge and the shell of Massu’s ear.
A deep noise of appreciation rumbles beneath Nakamaru’s lips as he trails them along Massu’s neck, stopping at a collarbone to nibble and suck his mark there. Massu retaliates, sliding his palms up Nakamaru’s sides, bringing the shirt with them, pausing to playfully pinch his nipples. Nakamaru gasps, eyes darting to meet Massu’s, and he pulls away to helpfully raise his arms for Massu to slip his shirt off. It gets dropped in the hamper and Massu makes short work of the pyjama pants as well, warm palms sliding them down Nakamaru’s legs as he leans against the door, fists clenched. He’s already half-hard, unaware of the fact until Massu trails fingers along his length.
Nakamaru’s gasp only encourages Massu to wrap his hand around him, stroking him to full hardness before withdrawing to slip out of his own clothes and neatly place them on the bathroom counter. Massu holds out a hand, smiling as Nakamaru takes it, and he guides them both under the warm shower spray. It’s a bit cramped with the both of them, but Nakamaru can’t worry about that now. He’s pressed against the wall of his own shower, doing his best to bite back high-pitched moans as his best friend licks and kisses his way down his chest, occasionally sliding blunt fingernails along his sides. Nakamaru has always prided himself on his ability to prioritize.
His attention snaps back to the present when he feels a warm tongue swirling around the head of his cock and fingers gently massaging his balls. Nakamaru looks down, feeling a bit incredulous and a lot turned on by the vision Massu makes. He’s peering up at Nakamaru from beneath his damp bangs, eyes laughing and holding so much promise. Nakamaru shakily reaches a hand down to comb through Massu’s hair, accidentally pulling in shock when Massu surges forward around his cock, slurping him down like some sort of treat.
The deep moan around his cock makes Nakamaru scrabble his fingers deeper into Massu’s hair. He finally settles them at the base of Massu’s skull, holding the other in place as he does his best not to thrust viciously. Nakamaru whines when Massu drags his lips away with a slick pop, trying not to look disappointed.
He gapes as Massu smirks up at him, voice a husky rumble. “Yuichi, I want to hear you fall apart. I want you to scream for me.”
Massu dives back in, wrenching a throaty moan from Nakamaru. His knees feel weak, and all Nakamaru seems to be able to do is feebly hang onto Massu’s shoulders. The only thing he knows is the slick wet heat from his best friend’s mouth, and the warmth of the water pounding down on them both. Massu does something with his tongue and moans, and Nakamaru can barely gasp out a warning before his hips buck and it’s out of his control, body stilling under Massu’s strong grip on his thighs.
Nakamaru pants weakly, leaning against the wall as he recovers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He watches Massu rise to his full height, and he’s not sure what possesses him but the next thing he realizes is that he’s crushed Massu in his arms. He licks at Massu’s lips, tasting himself, unable to restrain his shrill moan as he feels the other’s erection digging into his thigh. Nakamaru is sure he should be more freaked out about what is happening in his shower, but he can’t be bothered with that as he’s overwhelmed by sensation. He pulls back to whisper against the corner of Massu’s mouth. “Takahisa....”
“Let me make you feel good, Yuichi.” Massu’s words are a rich whisper in his ear, and Nakamaru nods mutely. The rest of the shower passes in a whirl of soap suds and lingering touches, and after years of friendship Massu already knows where Nakamaru keeps the towels and is well on his way to dry by the time he shuts off the water. One of his fluffier towels accosts him as he steps onto the bathmat, and Nakamaru flails a hand to get some semblance of control. As soon as he’s mostly dry and wrapped in a towel, Massu hooks fingers into the knot at his waist and teasingly pulls Nakamaru to his bedroom.
Massu lets go long enough to drape his towel over the back of the desk chair conveniently close to Nakamaru’s bed, then his hands are wrapping around Nakamaru’s shoulders once more, pulling him in for a blazing kiss. As their tongues battle for dominance, Nakamaru shucks his towel off and tosses it toward what he hopes is his chair. He’s far more concerned with pushing Massu to the bed.
Massu allows himself to fall back onto the bed, keeping a firm grip on Nakamaru and dragging him down. There are a few confused moments of rolling around and and gasping, and Nakamaru finds himself trapped beneath Massu. He pauses for a moment, studying Massu’s smiling face, then frames it with delicate fingers and pulls him down for one more kiss. “Taka, everything we need is in the nightstand. Please take care of me.”
Massu makes a pleased noise as he laps Nakamaru’s words up before pulling back. Nakamaru watches him rifle through the drawer as he shifts into a more comfortable position and allows his legs to fall open. Massu presses a tender kiss to Nakamaru’s lips once he’s found the lube and rolled on a condom, then he sits back, popping the cap open. He maintains eye contact as he slicks his fingers and trails them lightly up the insides of Nakamaru’s thighs, stilling for a moment as if he’s waiting for something. Nakamaru nods, unsure of where to put his hands. Massu grabs one with his free hand, lacing their fingers together as the fingers of his other hand circle Nakamaru’s rim.
Nakamaru gasps, and Massu slips a single finger inside, gently twisting. It feels a bit strange, but it’s nothing unbearable and Nakamaru squeezes Massu’s hand, hoping he gets the message. Massu does, and he smirks down at him as he adds another finger, pressing them in and out progressively faster. Nakamaru’s eyes close of their own accord and he feels Massu shift around. Massu lets go of his hand in favor of grabbing a handful of thigh, holding him even further open. Nakamaru is unprepared for hot breath and the wet swipe of Massu’s tongue against the soft skin in the crease of his thigh. He starts, jerking forward in an attempt to reach for Massu, but he’s halted by fingers digging into his leg at the same time the fingers inside him spread open to permit Massu’s tongue to slip between them.
Nakamaru can’t hold back his moan of surprise, and they continue getting louder the longer Massu thrusts his tongue inside him. He’s mortified and aroused, and he wishes it would never end. He clutches fistfuls of sheets, groaning when a finger grazes a spot that has him jerking his hips in an attempt to feel it again. Massu obliges, sinful tongue withdrawing in order to press it more firmly with his fingers.
“Fuck me, Takahisa.” Nakamaru has long since abandoned any lingering embarrassment in favor of the way Massu feels inside him. “Now.”
It feels strange, Massu’s laughter rumbling between his legs, and Nakamaru groans. He feels so empty and exposed for the few moments it takes Massu to lube his cock. Finally, Massu is leaning over him, pressing into him, and Nakamaru feels fuller than he ever has before. Massu pushes in as he holds Nakamaru’s hands above his head, stopping as he looks him in the eyes. Nakamaru returns the gaze, but can’t wait for Massu any longer and he wraps his legs around his waist, punctuating his demands with a light kick. “What are you waiting for? Are you tired already?”
Massu chuckles and leans forward to press a kiss to the side of Nakamaru’s neck, making a surprised noise when he turns his head in an attempt to capture Massu’s lips. “You do realize what I was doing, don’t you?”
“I do, and I obviously don’t care.” Nakamaru is getting impatient; he shifts beneath Massu and moans as he feels a fresh wave of arousal.
Massu’s only response is to kiss him deeply. Then he pulls out almost painfully slowly, smirking down at Nakamaru. The first thrust is also as slow, then Massu speeds up and Nakamaru has trouble doing much more than moaning and clenching Massu’s fingers, and attempting to take him in deeper by digging his heels into Massu’s ass.
That finally prods Massu into action, and Nakamaru rolls his hips with the movements. Massu shifts his grip, hitching Nakamaru’s legs more firmly around himself and pushing in even deeper. Their rhythm gets faster and faster, Nakamaru’s motions becoming less coordinated the closer he gets to orgasm. It feels like Massu is having to fuck him harder, and it’s all Nakamaru can do to get a hand between them and around his own cock.
Massu leans forward as much as he can, and Nakamaru leans up to close the distance. Their lips brush together, and Massu murmurs into the kiss. “Yuichi, come for me.”
That’s all that Nakamaru needs to fall over the edge, hand faltering as he cries out his orgasm. For a second he sees only white, and barely registers that Massu has stilled, pulsing inside him. He slumps bonelessly, whimpering a little from the awkward discomfort of Massu pulling out. They lay there panting until Massu finally gathers enough energy to roll off of him, heading to the bathroom to clean up. Nakamaru feels sure that he’ll never get out of bed again, especially if Massu is there with him. He gingerly rolls onto his stomach, content to doze. Nakamaru blinks open his eyes when he feels the bed dip, and smiles hazily up at Massu.
“So, Yuichi. Didn’t know you had a thing for ears.” Massu looks sort of smug and self-satisfied, and Nakamaru is okay with that. He’s pretty satisfied too, but he has to add one thing.
“Nah, I just like yours.” Nakamaru slips out of bed to rinse off before rejoining Massu. He’s got plans for Massu, and not just his ear.