Fic - Man With a Movie Camera - Chapter Five (2/2)
Title: Man With a Movie Camera
Group: Nightmare / Sendai Kamotsu
Pairings: Ruka x Yomi, Ruka x Ni~ya, Hitsugi/Sakito (platonic?), + Sendai
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17
Genre: Sex comedy
Chapter Five, part 2: Gigaflare manages to hold himself back for the five minutes it takes to get on the tour bus, where the only task left before he gets into Chen-chen's pants will be to hide from Chiba...
The Sendai tour bus, unlike Naito's, was not exactly the height of luxury. The back section had two tiny bunk beds in case anyone felt the desperate need to sleep (or hide from Chiba), with a curtain for privacy, but that was about it. Which was why the band tended to congregate in the regular seats in front of the curtain, far enough towards the back to give their manager and assistants some peace. When Chen-chen led Giga up the narrow aisle between the seats, he saw that only Satty and Fullface were present, meaning Chiba was still doing god knows what inside the building, or that he was in bed. Chen-chen hoped not. He needed that bed, and if Chiba got wind of what they planned to use it for there was no hope in hell he'd just let it go without making a spirited bid for a three-way.
The two guitarists were sitting together, both engaged in the Herculean task of getting the knots out of Fullface's black-and-blonde hairdo, which was extremely impressive in volume and reminiscent of a stylish Sideshow Bob, but was murder to untangle. They looked like a couple of monkeys, thought Chen-chen with amusement: Satty had his knees pulled up to his chin as his slender fingers picked delicately at the back-combed splendour, while Fullface was tugging resignedly at the other side of his head with a comb and making a variety of strange expressions. Occasionally Satty would lean in close to say something innocuous and comforting in Fullface's ear, which would nevertheless make the younger man start and blush a little.
“Oi!” hissed Chen-chen at Satty conspiratorially, beckoning. He took a covert hold on Giga's hand, felt his impatient tremble. Their willowy bandmate levered himself out of his seat, leaving Fullface pouting at his own fringe.
“What is it?” he asked in a stage whisper. Chen-chen grinned through his frustration: Satty was so much less poised than Sakito, and it tickled him.
“Do me a favour,” he said in more hushed tones. He could sense Giga behind him, tense and needy, and felt his own pale cheeks heat up. “Keep everyone out of the sleeping area, okay?”
Now if it had been Sakito, he would have grasped the implications of this in an instant. Being Satty, it took him a few seconds, but after he had looked the pair of them up and down, he seemed to get it.
“Ohh.” He giggled softly, eyes shining behind his glasses. “You know you've only got forty-five minutes?”
“All the more reason,” said Chen-chen, tightly, “for us to start and not be interrupted, especially by certain people. Certain short people.” Satty glanced at Giga's suddenly urgent expression, grimaced sympathetically, and nodded.
“I'll do my level best.”
Chen-chen winked at him, gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, and immediately turned away, tugging his drummer towards the delights that lay behind the curtain. As he lifted it aside he heard Satty slide back into his seat, turn to Fullface coyly and say,
“Hey, guess what...!” He kind of wished he could stick around to watch their youngest member suffer at the hands of Satty's experimental flirtations. But there were more important things to take care of.
Stumbling in the half-dark Chen-chen let the curtain swing back, took a step forward and immediately fell over Fullface's horror manga collection, which was, for reasons unknown, in the middle of the floor. Giga caught him with his ever-surprising reflexes before he took a nosedive.
“Crap!” complained the bassist, who had stuck his hand out to break his fall and come into contact with the unseen mountain of junk that formed a sea of untold and suspicious depths over the bottom bunk (some of Sendai are total slobs: who'd believe Satty could be that untidy?!). “It'll have to be the top, then.”
Giga needed no further urging, just scrambled up the narrow ladder and wriggled his way onto the bed (his feet hung off the end, but you couldn't have everything), sliding round on his stomach to pull up the blind that covered the high back window and shedding flickering light onto them both. He looked glad he had done so: Chen-chen, always thinking ahead, had decided it would be easier to get undressed first, and was performing a nonchalant strip in the small space available to him. His red boiler-suit pooled around his feet, underwear following; then he looked up. The drummer was watching him breathlessly, dark eyes running eagerly down the length of his pale body.
“Take your time, why don't you,” said Chen-chen drily; it wasn't as if all five of them had never seen the others naked before, or as if Giga hadn't had his hands all over him in the past, albeit in rushed, cramped conditions (not that this was going to be any different). Giga blinked, looking amazed (quite rightly) at his good fortune, and extended his hand, helping Chen-chen swarm up the ladder and into the bed beside him. The younger man tucked himself in behind the safety rail with difficulty, ending up nose to nose with Giga and with his conveniently naked body pressing against him.
“Roomy up here, isn't it,” he observed, throwing one leg over Giga's to give them some breathing space. Giga's hands directly closed around him, running in a long, hungry sweep down the length of his back to grab his hips (Chen-chan has the most incredible hips, don't you think?) and tug him even closer; his mouth met the bass player's, tongue parting his lips fiercely. Chen-chen, who had been about to make another caustic remark on their lack of romantic locale options, grumbled to himself as he was silenced again, but soon got over it as he felt Giga's erection press into his thigh. Chen-chen likes to be liked, and all that evidence of the fact was very flattering.
“Take off your clothes,” he whispered into the kiss, this time making a more successful attempt to unzip Ruka's costume. At this juncture the difficulties of undressing in a smaller-than-single bunk bed filled with two rather tall men became apparent. It wasn't helped by the fact that Giga didn't seem to want to let go of him at all, and for the next couple of minutes the air was filled with whispered, heated discussion.
“Move it over, you load!”
“...I can't, my arms are stuck in the sleeves.” Some hushed rustling.
“Then stop trying to grab me!” The sound of a hand connecting sharply with a stomach. “What did I just say?!”
“Dunno.”
“Hang on...ow!”
“Sorry.”
“...Now move your hips... Not into me, you great big oaf! ...That's better.”
“...Mmm.”
“Ohh...!” Chen-chen, sounding startled, then thrilled. “Ohh, I think that's got it...”
He melted against Giga, who was finally equally naked, and the shocking sensation of skin against skin all along his body made him swallow heavily with arousal. Giga's hands were back on him and felt like they were touching him everywhere, not stopping anywhere long enough to be really satisfying but intent on exploring everything.
Chen-chen, conscious of the time, was about to slide down Giga's body and offer to perform the ultimate favour that would leave the drummer in his debt forever more when he heard the engine start; then he felt the bed vibrate as the bus began to move. Which must mean the arrival of...
“Wotcher,” came Chiba's hoarse, exhausted voice from the other side of the curtain. “That's all over, then.” Giga froze at the sound and made a panicked little noise; Chen-chen clapped a hand across his mouth before anything else could escape. Really, his drummer was a complete baby.
“Come sit with us,” he heard Satty say.
“Yeah, please do!” added Fullface, slightly desperately. Satty must really be up in his space, thought Chen-chen, and smirked.
“I was gonna lie down,” protested Chiba. “I am knackered!” Chen-chen heard the sound of people moving, and then the old-man-like sigh as Chiba sank reluctantly into a seat.
“You can't go back there, anyway,” Satty told the little singer.
“Oh, why?”
“Chen-chen and Giga.” Now it was the bassist's turn to tense up; he didn't trust the other two not to give the game away, even if they didn't mean to, through sheer overacting. “They're having a fight,” Satty continued. Chen-chen relaxed marginally.
“'S a pretty quiet fight!” commented Chiba, who, from the pained sounds emanating from their seats, had joined in the epic battle to restore Fullface's hair to normal.
“I told them to keep it down; I don't want them to bother Fullface, he's upset. Aren't you!”
“What?” came the younger guitarist's startled voice.
“You're upset!”
“Oh!...Oh, yeah.” Fullface settled down. “Actually, I am!” He made a little noise between pleasure and worry; Chen-chen would have bet anything that Satty had just given him a consoling hug. He waited a few moments, but no more objections from Chiba seemed to be forthcoming, so he took his hand away from Giga's mouth and leaned in to replace it with his lips. He felt the drummer tremble with longing and apprehension.
“It's okay,” he whispered, sliding a hand between their bodies in an effort to make his friend forget about Chiba's proximity. Giga let out a low sound against his skin. “Let's just do this.”
“Want you,” murmured Giga ardently, squirming in the cramped space until he could push his leg further between Chen-chen's thighs.
“'Course you do,” said Chen-chen; it hadn't ever occurred to him to think otherwise.
“I mean I want you.” The drummer ran his hand down Chen-chen's back again, and latched onto the sensitive spot behind his jaw, making the bassist close his eyes with pleasure, lashes two quivering crescents against his white cheeks. “...All of you,” Giga muttered in his ear.
Chen-chen's eyes shot open: to illustrate his point, the older man's hand had continued its downward movement and was now approaching a very presumptuous place indeed.
“You've got a bloody nerve!” Chen-chen hissed, whining softly as Giga's thigh moved teasingly between his legs. “...What makes you think...I'd let you now?!”
“...Because now I need it.” Giga raised his spare hand, palm briefly cupping his friend's cheek before he kissed him again plaintively. Chen-chen scowled through the pleasure; he had never done this before, what Giga wanted, since their time together had necessarily been limited by circumstance and Chiba and he had never been very attracted to any other man. And it had to be today, when Chen-chen himself was feeling so off-kilter and emotional, that the drummer had to ask.
“I suppose you want to be on top,” he said dourly; he had sensed, from that very first kiss, that Giga was holding back, and his pent-up feelings were bound to explode in one direction or another. From the way he was insinuating himself between his legs, Chen-chen could make an educated guess which direction it would be. Giga nodded against his shoulder, lips travelling over his collar bone and down to his pale nipple.
“Typical...” Chen-chen bit back a groan at the movement of the other man's talented tongue, one hand coming to rest in his hair, though even he couldn't be sure if he meant to tug Giga away or drag him closer. His thoughts were scattering, swirling as they congregated to follow Giga's mouth; he still managed to feel pleasantly superior, though, and it was this delightful sense of self-worth, rather than any logical reason, that made his decision for him.
“All right,” he whispered; Giga froze in his downward path, which was fine because Chen-chen hadn't finished. “But we'll have to make some changes.” With that he took a firm grip on Giga's shoulders and rolled the drummer underneath him. Giga made a concerned, doubtful noise - he clearly had a complex about having someone on top of him, and Chen-chen tried not to imagine whatever it was Chiba had done (there was no possibility of anyone else having such an effect) to make him feel that way.
“Quit worrying,” he said impatiently, thumb brushing over Giga's bottom lip. “Just lie there and be quiet and let me take care of everything.” He laid himself along Giga's body, nudging his hip against the older man's hard-on deliberately and feeling his own skin flush at the contact. Really, this philanthropist thing might have more benefits than he had supposed at first, he thought, as Giga groaned in approval beneath him.
“I said sshhh!” whispered Chen-chen against the drummer's lips. “What if Chiba hears us?!” Giga's eyes flashed with panic for a moment, and he bit his tongue to stifle the moan that his talented friend had been drawing out of him with each roll of his delicious hips. He did his level best to keep silent, which meant Chen-chen was the one to jump and let out a surprised little sound as Giga's fingers snuck up on him and slipped between his legs experimentally.
“All right...!” muttered Chen-chen, for whom the sensation was entirely new and rather disconcerting. But Chen-chen isn't scared of anything (other than his vocalist, obviously), and he wasn't about to turn all whimpering uke for his bandmate. He pulled himself together. “Just hold your horses and give me the lube...””
( The narrative stops abruptly. I look up, trying to assemble my features into an expression of polite enquiry instead of a horrified rictus.
“Problem?” I ask. The heretofore enthusiastic narrator folds his arms.
“Look. It was totally a mercy fuck!” says Ni~ya, looking shifty. “He was being kind, letting Giga take the lead. He was being a good friend, that's all. I mean, look at this!” He spreads his arms emphatically. I look: tall, gorgeous, spoiled, that's Ni~ya. No, wait, not Ni~ya: “Chen-chen's obviously a top.”
“I believe you,” I assure him hurriedly, before he can start listing, in detail, all the other attributes that make him a natural pitcher.
“You do.”
“Of course!” I do hope I'm not about to have Ni~ya's first experience of a masculinity crisis on my hands, especially when it's not even his crisis. But no, he looks satisfied at my reassurances; he nods, hikes up a corner of his mouth in a grin, and continues. )
“Giga waved a silent hand in the direction of his bag, but didn't appear to be able to move. Chen-chen, muttering to himself, slid away from his friend's excited body and off the bed, stubbing his toe on Satty's glasses case before he managed to locate the sex supplies pocket of Giga's BPN backpack.
“Do I even want to know what you and Chiba do with this?” Chen-chen asked as he held up the lube, a smirk curling at one side of his pretty mouth. Giga looked mortified.
“No. You definitely do not.” Chen-chen sniggered, hopped back up the ladder and squeezed himself into the bed, where the drummer's arms caught him urgently. Then Giga was leaning up to kiss him, taking the half-empty tube from his hands; Chen-chen let him have it, supposing that for once he should bow to experience and let the other man show him what to do.
“If I'm hurting you,” whispered Giga into his neck, breath raising shivers on his skin, “tell me.”
“Oh, I will,” Chen-chen assured him emphatically, a ripple of pleasure washing over him as his bandmate's hand closed over his erection. The next moment he bit his lip on a nervous sound, one of Giga's long fingers slipping inside him carefully - the hand with short nails, and now Chen-chen knew why.
“Okay?” breathed Giga against his cheek.
“Shut up and keep going.” Chen-chen knew he sounded brusque, but he wanted to get used to the feeling as quickly as possible and take back control; he liked that Giga was considerate (he had been reliably informed that Ruka was anything but), but at this rate they could go on all night, and he didn't have all night.
Giga obeyed him, one hand still moving teasingly over his cock; he arched up against him, and Chen-chen felt his head spin, it was intense, it really was, and he didn't know how long he would be able to keep a hold on himself if it went on. Giga's previously worried face was now filled with understated delight, eyes half-closed and dreamy as Chen-chen leaned down to kiss his shoulder, and the bassist was sure his own expression looked just as dopey.
By now Giga had three fingers inside him and he could just go on forever like this, it felt so good; Chen-chen could hear himself letting out little whimpers of desire into Giga's mouth, his hands clutching at the drummer's arms. He took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together: he was sounding way more girly than was allowable, and Giga seemed to be enjoying it a little too much. Time to man up.
“Enough,” said Chen-chen throatily, trying to sound normal; he was going to dictate the pace of this, dammit. He shifted away from Giga's body slightly, rising to his knees and scooting back just enough to take the condom his bemused friend held out to him and slide it over the man's hard-on. He glanced down: Giga was blinking up at him, looking charmingly befuddled at having the reins taken away from him yet again; it suited him, thought Chen-chen. He placed a hand in the centre of the drummer's chest for balance and, not without some well-hidden apprehension, lowered himself onto his cock.
“Nnn...” Chen-chen swore silently to himself as the sound escaped him, but there was nothing he could do about it: he'd chosen this position precisely so that Giga wouldn't have any say in how fast they could go, but he was still big, bigger than three fingers had really prepared him for, and the feeling was a bit of a shock. But Giga was gazing up at him so adoringly, looking so sweetly stupid with his mouth open like that, and Chen-chen was not about to give up and disappoint him. Besides, Chen-chen is a winner.
“...Good?” he demanded softly, sinking down further and working hard not to gasp as Giga entered him fully. He rested his elbows on the drummer's midriff while he got used to it, black hair spilling across Giga's chest, which was rising and falling rapidly with his excited breathing. Giga didn't reply, but a moment later Chen-chen felt a hand cradling the back of his head, fingertips stroking his scalp encouragingly. Giga really could be sweet when it mattered.
After a while Chen-chen felt better, and decided he was confident enough to move (having looked at his watch and found that there were only twenty minutes left of their journey). Having, as I may have mentioned before, totally awesome hips, he found it very easy to do and, once he had got over the intensely strange but pleasurable sensation of having another man's cock moving inside him, was able to proceed as slowly as he pleased.
“Chen-chen...” came Giga's low, pleading voice, which the bassist liked and always had, “...stop...fucking teasing...!” His hands closed around Chen-chen's slim waist entreatingly, but the bassist was too big to be moved if he didn't feel like it.
“Oh,” whispered Chen-chen, executing another tantalisingly slow rise and fall and observing Giga's dilated pupils, “but you like it.”
“Please...!”
Chen-chen gave another smirk at that, though he was feeling too turned on to make it really snarky. As a reward for using the magic word he relaxed his body and allowed Giga to lift him, fingers biting into the curve of his hips and adding darts of rather wonderful pain to the melting pot of sensations. Giga, being enthusiastic and quite strong when he put his mind to it, managed to push him up very high and fast.
“Ow!!” And now Chen-chen had the full inconvenience of the top bunk brought home to him yet again, as his head met the roof of the bus with a crack. He froze, listening for any sounds of inquisitiveness or comprehension from the other side of the curtain; or at least he tried to, but was rather hindered by Giga, who was now getting into the swing of things in a most untimely way, moving the bassist into a quicker rhythm that made him throw his head back with sheer bliss.
“Goddammit, ow! Will you quit that!?” hissed Chen-chen, who had banged it again. He tried leaning back down, but it was very difficult to lie flat over Giga and keep up that wonderful tempo at the same time.
“Should've let me go on top,” Giga mumbled, almost too quietly to hear. Chen-chen opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again to keep in a moan as the drummer's hands slid down to squeeze his ass fondly. Chen-chen gave up: Giga was too good at this and he wanted more of it; he supposed he could suffer a minor concussion in exchange for all that pleasure. He pushed himself back up carelessly, hands heavy against Giga's ribs - well, if he was in for some bruises, the other man should have his own share. He began to move again, tentatively, until he found that rhythm and almost bit his own tongue at how good it felt.
Giga was staring up at him, looking intoxicated, his long fingers running over Chen-chen's damp skin as far as he could reach, as though he could never get enough of touching him. Chen-chen was thoroughly gratified by this awed attitude toward himself, and was hard put to stop himself gazing back in uke-ish adoration at this man who could do such amazing things to him by basically lying there on his back. But there was still plenty to grumble about, and the bass player was never one to pass up the opportunity.
“...Normal rock stars,” complained Chen-chen breathlessly, “they get to - ouch - do it with groupies in hot tubs and the back of limos!” He leaned further forward to kiss Giga untidily, then pushed himself up to keep the momentum going. “...What is - ow - wrong with us...?!” From the front of the bus came the sound of their three bandmates singing 'Eye of the Tiger' in appalling and enthusiastic English, evidently over their melancholy spell. “This is...ridiculous!”
“Mmph,” murmured Giga in guttural agreement, but didn't seem able to come up with anything more articulate. Chen-chen, gasping for breath but still going with all the energy at his disposal, saw his eyes slide closed blissfully, hands convulsively tight on the bassist's waist (Chen-chen knew he'd have marks tomorrow, his skin was so fair, and how was he going to explain that to Miki?). He didn't care, just began to rise faster, harder, hand braced against the roof of the bus to minimise the damage to his skull while he attacked his drummer with all the sexual competence he possessed (which, as you can imagine, is considerable).
Giga bit his full underlip as the younger man dragged a low, amazed sound out of him; Chen-chen looked down sharply, because he'd heard that urgent little moan in the past and knew exactly what it meant.
“You bastard!” he hissed in alarm, doing his level best now to stop moving, “don't you dare-”
But Giga, face locked in a frown of insular concentration, had stopped listening and was rocking his friend's body down onto his cock faster and faster, muscles taut in his forearms. Chen-chen screwed his own eyes up, the tight, ecstatic feeling spiralling up through his stomach, he was getting close, so close, he only needed another minute...
And then Giga froze, nails cutting into the flesh of Chen-chen's hips, and let out a helpless growl of pleasure, tugging the bassist down onto him hard, neck curved back and brown hair spreading in an abandoned wave across the blankets. For several seconds, which felt like a lifetime to Chen-chen, he didn't move, in all probability couldn't move; then his hands rose shakily to cover his face in exhaustion.
“Che...” he began, rapturously, but was cut off mid-praise by the murderously frustrated tones of his bass player.
“Fuck,” snarled Chen-chen, thumping Giga's heaving chest with a clenched fist, “...I knew you were going to do that!”
“...I'm so sorry,” came Giga's satiated, embarrassed mumble from behind his hands. Chen-chen glared at him accusingly; he could have carried on berating the drummer into next week, but his hard-on was demanding that he forgo the satisfaction and deal with it right now.
“Fuck your sorry,” he muttered, between quick catches of breath. “Make those damn hands useful!”
To his relief Giga immediately obeyed (if nothing else, Chiba had him well trained), reaching out and tipping him over beside him, skilled fingers gravitating straight to Chen-chen's insistent erection and apologetic lips to his throat.
“Oh, better,” gasped Chen-chen, sliding his arms around the taller man's back and clinging as Giga's tongue flicked out against his hot skin and the movement of his damp hands sped up into a fast, unrelenting pace. He gritted his teeth, getting some payback as his own nails dug into Giga's shoulders, making the drummer wince silently and set his teeth to Chen-chen's white neck (that was a Ruka trait, he thought, but it felt good).
“Ready?” whispered Giga, lips against his ear. Chen-chen nodded frantically, mouth pressed to the other man's shoulder, the salt taste of sweat on his tongue. He felt the shape of the drummer's tentative smile, and that was the last thing he was aware of before every single neuron in his body fired at once, Giga's hand tight and perfect on his cock.
Chen-chen had no idea how loud he cried out as he came, just that Giga had grasped him by the hair and shoved his face down into his chest to muffle the sound, holding him close as he shuddered in gratification.
“...Well...” puffed Chen-chen eventually, when his surroundings had stopped spinning and Giga had sat up and was cleaning them both off with a handy pillowcase. “...I hope you're happy now!”
Giga looked down at him and gave him a sweet, brief grin. Now that he had gotten off, Chen-chen was inclined to feel grumpy and resentful again at this whole state of affairs, but couldn't help a corresponding smile rising to his lips as he lay there waiting for his heart rate to return to some semblance of normality. He raised one arm languidly and peered at his watch.
“Shit! Five minutes!” He heaved himself up on his elbows. Giga grimaced at him and slid down to the floor, throwing on jeans and tshirt in the half-dark (Chen-chen thought they were probably his, but it didn't really matter too much). The bassist followed, limping down the ladder hurriedly. He stood shifting from foot to foot for a minute while Giga dug around and located more clothes for him, then shuffled into them and attempted to straighten out both their hair.
“Right. What do we look like?” he demanded, fanning himself with his hand.
“...Like we just fucked in the back of a bus,” Giga told him honestly.
“Oh well. No help for it.” Chen-chen exhaled deeply and tugged the curtain back, stepping out as firmly as possible with his backside in its current put-upon state. He wandered nonchalantly down the aisle, and straight away came face to face with his three bandmates. Giga gulped down a nervous laugh behind him, and Chen-chen himself wasn't sure whether to snigger at the tableau or apologise profusely. Chiba was sitting between the two guitarists, who were clearly the only things keeping him in his seat: Fullface was pinning him down by the shoulders while Satty's slender hand was clapped across his mouth; both men were bright red and carefully avoiding eye contact with one another.
“...Thank god,” exclaimed Satty upon catching sight of them. “Do you have any idea how long we've been sitting like this?!”
“Huh?” said Giga, intelligently.
“Well he figured it out about fifteen minutes ago; and we wanted to give you the chance to at least finish,” Satty told them, blushing prettily and grinning in a sheepish way. He took his hands off the struggling Chiba with evident relief.
“Spoilsports!” cried the singer indignantly. “You guys don't let me have any fun!” Fullface smacked him across the head at this blatant falsehood, and Chiba turned to him. “Think of how nice we could all play together,” he said slyly, pinching Fullface's cheek teasingly. The guitarist spluttered for a few moments before abandoning the attempt to think of a comeback and curling up protectively in his seat like a hermit crab.
“So,” carried on Chiba, turning to Chen-chen and winking outrageously in the direction of the silent Giga. “Didn't I do a good job with him?”
“Shut it,” Chen-chen told him, collapsing into a seat opposite the rest of his band. Chiba observed his expression of discomfort as he tried to find a position that didn't make him ache, and grinned wider.
“What, did you let him go on top?” He shook his head sagely. “What a waste of a perfectly good-”
“All right, that is enough!” broke in Satty repressively, at Giga's look of profound embarrassment. He pushed Chiba out of his seat and beckoned the drummer to sit between himself and Fullface. Chiba, undismayed, bounced down next to Chen-chen. They all looked at each other. “Let's just go home,” suggested Satty. One by one they nodded. And then, because they were friends and they were still a great band and because even Chiba knew when to shut up and let it be, they all broke into smiles.”
“Right!” says Ni~ya, still looking slightly uncomfortable at this revelation of his other half's spell on the bottom, “is that all clear now?”
“You made it abundantly clear,” I tell him glumly. He leans back, lounging comfortably on his cushion, and takes a long swig of Asahi.
“That none of it was Chen-chen's idea,” he confirms.
“Chen-chen's name is clear,” I assure him wryly. I can't believe I just said that... I cast about for some scrap of comfort after yet another over-eighteen ramble down memory lane (I swear, if I hear the word 'cock' one more time I'm taping my own down and joining a nunnery!). Well, I suppose Gigaflare is marginally more bearable than Ruka in terms of obscenity levels. Is that really a comfort? I slump behind my camera, and sip weakly at my own Jack Daniels (though Dutch courage apparently has no effect on me...).
“What's your problem?” asks Ni~ya oh-so-kindly, lighting up while observing my fainting form. He blows out an elegant trail of smoke. “I kept it tasteful!”
If that was tasteful, I never want to hear one of them do tasteless. But who am I kidding? If I'm determined to persist with this project, I know it's only a matter of time.
**************
Hopefully this chapter helped erase the memories of the last one ^^;
Giga is, and will remain, a total wuss, mind you...
In other news, on Wednesday I went to see Naito at Zepp Nagoya! (first time in 7 years, so v. exciting!)
Obviously they were brilliant. They started off with Mimic and worked backwards through to Jisho Shounen Terrorist, it was awesome hearing all the old songs. And of course they were all totally hot (well, could barely see Ruka behind his hair, and he managed not to say a single word for the whole live, but still! And Sakito's legs, mmm...). Yomi's MCs were hilarious, as usual.
We were stood right in front of Hitsu, whose hair is now black and orange and looks completely adorable. He was having a lovely time XD
The point is that am now in a totally Hitsugi mood, but that will have to wait because next week's chapter will be more Yomi smut.
Thanks for reading!
Forward to chapter six
Back to chapter four
Group: Nightmare / Sendai Kamotsu
Pairings: Ruka x Yomi, Ruka x Ni~ya, Hitsugi/Sakito (platonic?), + Sendai
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17
Genre: Sex comedy
Chapter Five, part 2: Gigaflare manages to hold himself back for the five minutes it takes to get on the tour bus, where the only task left before he gets into Chen-chen's pants will be to hide from Chiba...
The Sendai tour bus, unlike Naito's, was not exactly the height of luxury. The back section had two tiny bunk beds in case anyone felt the desperate need to sleep (or hide from Chiba), with a curtain for privacy, but that was about it. Which was why the band tended to congregate in the regular seats in front of the curtain, far enough towards the back to give their manager and assistants some peace. When Chen-chen led Giga up the narrow aisle between the seats, he saw that only Satty and Fullface were present, meaning Chiba was still doing god knows what inside the building, or that he was in bed. Chen-chen hoped not. He needed that bed, and if Chiba got wind of what they planned to use it for there was no hope in hell he'd just let it go without making a spirited bid for a three-way.
The two guitarists were sitting together, both engaged in the Herculean task of getting the knots out of Fullface's black-and-blonde hairdo, which was extremely impressive in volume and reminiscent of a stylish Sideshow Bob, but was murder to untangle. They looked like a couple of monkeys, thought Chen-chen with amusement: Satty had his knees pulled up to his chin as his slender fingers picked delicately at the back-combed splendour, while Fullface was tugging resignedly at the other side of his head with a comb and making a variety of strange expressions. Occasionally Satty would lean in close to say something innocuous and comforting in Fullface's ear, which would nevertheless make the younger man start and blush a little.
“Oi!” hissed Chen-chen at Satty conspiratorially, beckoning. He took a covert hold on Giga's hand, felt his impatient tremble. Their willowy bandmate levered himself out of his seat, leaving Fullface pouting at his own fringe.
“What is it?” he asked in a stage whisper. Chen-chen grinned through his frustration: Satty was so much less poised than Sakito, and it tickled him.
“Do me a favour,” he said in more hushed tones. He could sense Giga behind him, tense and needy, and felt his own pale cheeks heat up. “Keep everyone out of the sleeping area, okay?”
Now if it had been Sakito, he would have grasped the implications of this in an instant. Being Satty, it took him a few seconds, but after he had looked the pair of them up and down, he seemed to get it.
“Ohh.” He giggled softly, eyes shining behind his glasses. “You know you've only got forty-five minutes?”
“All the more reason,” said Chen-chen, tightly, “for us to start and not be interrupted, especially by certain people. Certain short people.” Satty glanced at Giga's suddenly urgent expression, grimaced sympathetically, and nodded.
“I'll do my level best.”
Chen-chen winked at him, gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, and immediately turned away, tugging his drummer towards the delights that lay behind the curtain. As he lifted it aside he heard Satty slide back into his seat, turn to Fullface coyly and say,
“Hey, guess what...!” He kind of wished he could stick around to watch their youngest member suffer at the hands of Satty's experimental flirtations. But there were more important things to take care of.
Stumbling in the half-dark Chen-chen let the curtain swing back, took a step forward and immediately fell over Fullface's horror manga collection, which was, for reasons unknown, in the middle of the floor. Giga caught him with his ever-surprising reflexes before he took a nosedive.
“Crap!” complained the bassist, who had stuck his hand out to break his fall and come into contact with the unseen mountain of junk that formed a sea of untold and suspicious depths over the bottom bunk (some of Sendai are total slobs: who'd believe Satty could be that untidy?!). “It'll have to be the top, then.”
Giga needed no further urging, just scrambled up the narrow ladder and wriggled his way onto the bed (his feet hung off the end, but you couldn't have everything), sliding round on his stomach to pull up the blind that covered the high back window and shedding flickering light onto them both. He looked glad he had done so: Chen-chen, always thinking ahead, had decided it would be easier to get undressed first, and was performing a nonchalant strip in the small space available to him. His red boiler-suit pooled around his feet, underwear following; then he looked up. The drummer was watching him breathlessly, dark eyes running eagerly down the length of his pale body.
“Take your time, why don't you,” said Chen-chen drily; it wasn't as if all five of them had never seen the others naked before, or as if Giga hadn't had his hands all over him in the past, albeit in rushed, cramped conditions (not that this was going to be any different). Giga blinked, looking amazed (quite rightly) at his good fortune, and extended his hand, helping Chen-chen swarm up the ladder and into the bed beside him. The younger man tucked himself in behind the safety rail with difficulty, ending up nose to nose with Giga and with his conveniently naked body pressing against him.
“Roomy up here, isn't it,” he observed, throwing one leg over Giga's to give them some breathing space. Giga's hands directly closed around him, running in a long, hungry sweep down the length of his back to grab his hips (Chen-chan has the most incredible hips, don't you think?) and tug him even closer; his mouth met the bass player's, tongue parting his lips fiercely. Chen-chen, who had been about to make another caustic remark on their lack of romantic locale options, grumbled to himself as he was silenced again, but soon got over it as he felt Giga's erection press into his thigh. Chen-chen likes to be liked, and all that evidence of the fact was very flattering.
“Take off your clothes,” he whispered into the kiss, this time making a more successful attempt to unzip Ruka's costume. At this juncture the difficulties of undressing in a smaller-than-single bunk bed filled with two rather tall men became apparent. It wasn't helped by the fact that Giga didn't seem to want to let go of him at all, and for the next couple of minutes the air was filled with whispered, heated discussion.
“Move it over, you load!”
“...I can't, my arms are stuck in the sleeves.” Some hushed rustling.
“Then stop trying to grab me!” The sound of a hand connecting sharply with a stomach. “What did I just say?!”
“Dunno.”
“Hang on...ow!”
“Sorry.”
“...Now move your hips... Not into me, you great big oaf! ...That's better.”
“...Mmm.”
“Ohh...!” Chen-chen, sounding startled, then thrilled. “Ohh, I think that's got it...”
He melted against Giga, who was finally equally naked, and the shocking sensation of skin against skin all along his body made him swallow heavily with arousal. Giga's hands were back on him and felt like they were touching him everywhere, not stopping anywhere long enough to be really satisfying but intent on exploring everything.
Chen-chen, conscious of the time, was about to slide down Giga's body and offer to perform the ultimate favour that would leave the drummer in his debt forever more when he heard the engine start; then he felt the bed vibrate as the bus began to move. Which must mean the arrival of...
“Wotcher,” came Chiba's hoarse, exhausted voice from the other side of the curtain. “That's all over, then.” Giga froze at the sound and made a panicked little noise; Chen-chen clapped a hand across his mouth before anything else could escape. Really, his drummer was a complete baby.
“Come sit with us,” he heard Satty say.
“Yeah, please do!” added Fullface, slightly desperately. Satty must really be up in his space, thought Chen-chen, and smirked.
“I was gonna lie down,” protested Chiba. “I am knackered!” Chen-chen heard the sound of people moving, and then the old-man-like sigh as Chiba sank reluctantly into a seat.
“You can't go back there, anyway,” Satty told the little singer.
“Oh, why?”
“Chen-chen and Giga.” Now it was the bassist's turn to tense up; he didn't trust the other two not to give the game away, even if they didn't mean to, through sheer overacting. “They're having a fight,” Satty continued. Chen-chen relaxed marginally.
“'S a pretty quiet fight!” commented Chiba, who, from the pained sounds emanating from their seats, had joined in the epic battle to restore Fullface's hair to normal.
“I told them to keep it down; I don't want them to bother Fullface, he's upset. Aren't you!”
“What?” came the younger guitarist's startled voice.
“You're upset!”
“Oh!...Oh, yeah.” Fullface settled down. “Actually, I am!” He made a little noise between pleasure and worry; Chen-chen would have bet anything that Satty had just given him a consoling hug. He waited a few moments, but no more objections from Chiba seemed to be forthcoming, so he took his hand away from Giga's mouth and leaned in to replace it with his lips. He felt the drummer tremble with longing and apprehension.
“It's okay,” he whispered, sliding a hand between their bodies in an effort to make his friend forget about Chiba's proximity. Giga let out a low sound against his skin. “Let's just do this.”
“Want you,” murmured Giga ardently, squirming in the cramped space until he could push his leg further between Chen-chen's thighs.
“'Course you do,” said Chen-chen; it hadn't ever occurred to him to think otherwise.
“I mean I want you.” The drummer ran his hand down Chen-chen's back again, and latched onto the sensitive spot behind his jaw, making the bassist close his eyes with pleasure, lashes two quivering crescents against his white cheeks. “...All of you,” Giga muttered in his ear.
Chen-chen's eyes shot open: to illustrate his point, the older man's hand had continued its downward movement and was now approaching a very presumptuous place indeed.
“You've got a bloody nerve!” Chen-chen hissed, whining softly as Giga's thigh moved teasingly between his legs. “...What makes you think...I'd let you now?!”
“...Because now I need it.” Giga raised his spare hand, palm briefly cupping his friend's cheek before he kissed him again plaintively. Chen-chen scowled through the pleasure; he had never done this before, what Giga wanted, since their time together had necessarily been limited by circumstance and Chiba and he had never been very attracted to any other man. And it had to be today, when Chen-chen himself was feeling so off-kilter and emotional, that the drummer had to ask.
“I suppose you want to be on top,” he said dourly; he had sensed, from that very first kiss, that Giga was holding back, and his pent-up feelings were bound to explode in one direction or another. From the way he was insinuating himself between his legs, Chen-chen could make an educated guess which direction it would be. Giga nodded against his shoulder, lips travelling over his collar bone and down to his pale nipple.
“Typical...” Chen-chen bit back a groan at the movement of the other man's talented tongue, one hand coming to rest in his hair, though even he couldn't be sure if he meant to tug Giga away or drag him closer. His thoughts were scattering, swirling as they congregated to follow Giga's mouth; he still managed to feel pleasantly superior, though, and it was this delightful sense of self-worth, rather than any logical reason, that made his decision for him.
“All right,” he whispered; Giga froze in his downward path, which was fine because Chen-chen hadn't finished. “But we'll have to make some changes.” With that he took a firm grip on Giga's shoulders and rolled the drummer underneath him. Giga made a concerned, doubtful noise - he clearly had a complex about having someone on top of him, and Chen-chen tried not to imagine whatever it was Chiba had done (there was no possibility of anyone else having such an effect) to make him feel that way.
“Quit worrying,” he said impatiently, thumb brushing over Giga's bottom lip. “Just lie there and be quiet and let me take care of everything.” He laid himself along Giga's body, nudging his hip against the older man's hard-on deliberately and feeling his own skin flush at the contact. Really, this philanthropist thing might have more benefits than he had supposed at first, he thought, as Giga groaned in approval beneath him.
“I said sshhh!” whispered Chen-chen against the drummer's lips. “What if Chiba hears us?!” Giga's eyes flashed with panic for a moment, and he bit his tongue to stifle the moan that his talented friend had been drawing out of him with each roll of his delicious hips. He did his level best to keep silent, which meant Chen-chen was the one to jump and let out a surprised little sound as Giga's fingers snuck up on him and slipped between his legs experimentally.
“All right...!” muttered Chen-chen, for whom the sensation was entirely new and rather disconcerting. But Chen-chen isn't scared of anything (other than his vocalist, obviously), and he wasn't about to turn all whimpering uke for his bandmate. He pulled himself together. “Just hold your horses and give me the lube...””
( The narrative stops abruptly. I look up, trying to assemble my features into an expression of polite enquiry instead of a horrified rictus.
“Problem?” I ask. The heretofore enthusiastic narrator folds his arms.
“Look. It was totally a mercy fuck!” says Ni~ya, looking shifty. “He was being kind, letting Giga take the lead. He was being a good friend, that's all. I mean, look at this!” He spreads his arms emphatically. I look: tall, gorgeous, spoiled, that's Ni~ya. No, wait, not Ni~ya: “Chen-chen's obviously a top.”
“I believe you,” I assure him hurriedly, before he can start listing, in detail, all the other attributes that make him a natural pitcher.
“You do.”
“Of course!” I do hope I'm not about to have Ni~ya's first experience of a masculinity crisis on my hands, especially when it's not even his crisis. But no, he looks satisfied at my reassurances; he nods, hikes up a corner of his mouth in a grin, and continues. )
“Giga waved a silent hand in the direction of his bag, but didn't appear to be able to move. Chen-chen, muttering to himself, slid away from his friend's excited body and off the bed, stubbing his toe on Satty's glasses case before he managed to locate the sex supplies pocket of Giga's BPN backpack.
“Do I even want to know what you and Chiba do with this?” Chen-chen asked as he held up the lube, a smirk curling at one side of his pretty mouth. Giga looked mortified.
“No. You definitely do not.” Chen-chen sniggered, hopped back up the ladder and squeezed himself into the bed, where the drummer's arms caught him urgently. Then Giga was leaning up to kiss him, taking the half-empty tube from his hands; Chen-chen let him have it, supposing that for once he should bow to experience and let the other man show him what to do.
“If I'm hurting you,” whispered Giga into his neck, breath raising shivers on his skin, “tell me.”
“Oh, I will,” Chen-chen assured him emphatically, a ripple of pleasure washing over him as his bandmate's hand closed over his erection. The next moment he bit his lip on a nervous sound, one of Giga's long fingers slipping inside him carefully - the hand with short nails, and now Chen-chen knew why.
“Okay?” breathed Giga against his cheek.
“Shut up and keep going.” Chen-chen knew he sounded brusque, but he wanted to get used to the feeling as quickly as possible and take back control; he liked that Giga was considerate (he had been reliably informed that Ruka was anything but), but at this rate they could go on all night, and he didn't have all night.
Giga obeyed him, one hand still moving teasingly over his cock; he arched up against him, and Chen-chen felt his head spin, it was intense, it really was, and he didn't know how long he would be able to keep a hold on himself if it went on. Giga's previously worried face was now filled with understated delight, eyes half-closed and dreamy as Chen-chen leaned down to kiss his shoulder, and the bassist was sure his own expression looked just as dopey.
By now Giga had three fingers inside him and he could just go on forever like this, it felt so good; Chen-chen could hear himself letting out little whimpers of desire into Giga's mouth, his hands clutching at the drummer's arms. He took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together: he was sounding way more girly than was allowable, and Giga seemed to be enjoying it a little too much. Time to man up.
“Enough,” said Chen-chen throatily, trying to sound normal; he was going to dictate the pace of this, dammit. He shifted away from Giga's body slightly, rising to his knees and scooting back just enough to take the condom his bemused friend held out to him and slide it over the man's hard-on. He glanced down: Giga was blinking up at him, looking charmingly befuddled at having the reins taken away from him yet again; it suited him, thought Chen-chen. He placed a hand in the centre of the drummer's chest for balance and, not without some well-hidden apprehension, lowered himself onto his cock.
“Nnn...” Chen-chen swore silently to himself as the sound escaped him, but there was nothing he could do about it: he'd chosen this position precisely so that Giga wouldn't have any say in how fast they could go, but he was still big, bigger than three fingers had really prepared him for, and the feeling was a bit of a shock. But Giga was gazing up at him so adoringly, looking so sweetly stupid with his mouth open like that, and Chen-chen was not about to give up and disappoint him. Besides, Chen-chen is a winner.
“...Good?” he demanded softly, sinking down further and working hard not to gasp as Giga entered him fully. He rested his elbows on the drummer's midriff while he got used to it, black hair spilling across Giga's chest, which was rising and falling rapidly with his excited breathing. Giga didn't reply, but a moment later Chen-chen felt a hand cradling the back of his head, fingertips stroking his scalp encouragingly. Giga really could be sweet when it mattered.
After a while Chen-chen felt better, and decided he was confident enough to move (having looked at his watch and found that there were only twenty minutes left of their journey). Having, as I may have mentioned before, totally awesome hips, he found it very easy to do and, once he had got over the intensely strange but pleasurable sensation of having another man's cock moving inside him, was able to proceed as slowly as he pleased.
“Chen-chen...” came Giga's low, pleading voice, which the bassist liked and always had, “...stop...fucking teasing...!” His hands closed around Chen-chen's slim waist entreatingly, but the bassist was too big to be moved if he didn't feel like it.
“Oh,” whispered Chen-chen, executing another tantalisingly slow rise and fall and observing Giga's dilated pupils, “but you like it.”
“Please...!”
Chen-chen gave another smirk at that, though he was feeling too turned on to make it really snarky. As a reward for using the magic word he relaxed his body and allowed Giga to lift him, fingers biting into the curve of his hips and adding darts of rather wonderful pain to the melting pot of sensations. Giga, being enthusiastic and quite strong when he put his mind to it, managed to push him up very high and fast.
“Ow!!” And now Chen-chen had the full inconvenience of the top bunk brought home to him yet again, as his head met the roof of the bus with a crack. He froze, listening for any sounds of inquisitiveness or comprehension from the other side of the curtain; or at least he tried to, but was rather hindered by Giga, who was now getting into the swing of things in a most untimely way, moving the bassist into a quicker rhythm that made him throw his head back with sheer bliss.
“Goddammit, ow! Will you quit that!?” hissed Chen-chen, who had banged it again. He tried leaning back down, but it was very difficult to lie flat over Giga and keep up that wonderful tempo at the same time.
“Should've let me go on top,” Giga mumbled, almost too quietly to hear. Chen-chen opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again to keep in a moan as the drummer's hands slid down to squeeze his ass fondly. Chen-chen gave up: Giga was too good at this and he wanted more of it; he supposed he could suffer a minor concussion in exchange for all that pleasure. He pushed himself back up carelessly, hands heavy against Giga's ribs - well, if he was in for some bruises, the other man should have his own share. He began to move again, tentatively, until he found that rhythm and almost bit his own tongue at how good it felt.
Giga was staring up at him, looking intoxicated, his long fingers running over Chen-chen's damp skin as far as he could reach, as though he could never get enough of touching him. Chen-chen was thoroughly gratified by this awed attitude toward himself, and was hard put to stop himself gazing back in uke-ish adoration at this man who could do such amazing things to him by basically lying there on his back. But there was still plenty to grumble about, and the bass player was never one to pass up the opportunity.
“...Normal rock stars,” complained Chen-chen breathlessly, “they get to - ouch - do it with groupies in hot tubs and the back of limos!” He leaned further forward to kiss Giga untidily, then pushed himself up to keep the momentum going. “...What is - ow - wrong with us...?!” From the front of the bus came the sound of their three bandmates singing 'Eye of the Tiger' in appalling and enthusiastic English, evidently over their melancholy spell. “This is...ridiculous!”
“Mmph,” murmured Giga in guttural agreement, but didn't seem able to come up with anything more articulate. Chen-chen, gasping for breath but still going with all the energy at his disposal, saw his eyes slide closed blissfully, hands convulsively tight on the bassist's waist (Chen-chen knew he'd have marks tomorrow, his skin was so fair, and how was he going to explain that to Miki?). He didn't care, just began to rise faster, harder, hand braced against the roof of the bus to minimise the damage to his skull while he attacked his drummer with all the sexual competence he possessed (which, as you can imagine, is considerable).
Giga bit his full underlip as the younger man dragged a low, amazed sound out of him; Chen-chen looked down sharply, because he'd heard that urgent little moan in the past and knew exactly what it meant.
“You bastard!” he hissed in alarm, doing his level best now to stop moving, “don't you dare-”
But Giga, face locked in a frown of insular concentration, had stopped listening and was rocking his friend's body down onto his cock faster and faster, muscles taut in his forearms. Chen-chen screwed his own eyes up, the tight, ecstatic feeling spiralling up through his stomach, he was getting close, so close, he only needed another minute...
And then Giga froze, nails cutting into the flesh of Chen-chen's hips, and let out a helpless growl of pleasure, tugging the bassist down onto him hard, neck curved back and brown hair spreading in an abandoned wave across the blankets. For several seconds, which felt like a lifetime to Chen-chen, he didn't move, in all probability couldn't move; then his hands rose shakily to cover his face in exhaustion.
“Che...” he began, rapturously, but was cut off mid-praise by the murderously frustrated tones of his bass player.
“Fuck,” snarled Chen-chen, thumping Giga's heaving chest with a clenched fist, “...I knew you were going to do that!”
“...I'm so sorry,” came Giga's satiated, embarrassed mumble from behind his hands. Chen-chen glared at him accusingly; he could have carried on berating the drummer into next week, but his hard-on was demanding that he forgo the satisfaction and deal with it right now.
“Fuck your sorry,” he muttered, between quick catches of breath. “Make those damn hands useful!”
To his relief Giga immediately obeyed (if nothing else, Chiba had him well trained), reaching out and tipping him over beside him, skilled fingers gravitating straight to Chen-chen's insistent erection and apologetic lips to his throat.
“Oh, better,” gasped Chen-chen, sliding his arms around the taller man's back and clinging as Giga's tongue flicked out against his hot skin and the movement of his damp hands sped up into a fast, unrelenting pace. He gritted his teeth, getting some payback as his own nails dug into Giga's shoulders, making the drummer wince silently and set his teeth to Chen-chen's white neck (that was a Ruka trait, he thought, but it felt good).
“Ready?” whispered Giga, lips against his ear. Chen-chen nodded frantically, mouth pressed to the other man's shoulder, the salt taste of sweat on his tongue. He felt the shape of the drummer's tentative smile, and that was the last thing he was aware of before every single neuron in his body fired at once, Giga's hand tight and perfect on his cock.
Chen-chen had no idea how loud he cried out as he came, just that Giga had grasped him by the hair and shoved his face down into his chest to muffle the sound, holding him close as he shuddered in gratification.
“...Well...” puffed Chen-chen eventually, when his surroundings had stopped spinning and Giga had sat up and was cleaning them both off with a handy pillowcase. “...I hope you're happy now!”
Giga looked down at him and gave him a sweet, brief grin. Now that he had gotten off, Chen-chen was inclined to feel grumpy and resentful again at this whole state of affairs, but couldn't help a corresponding smile rising to his lips as he lay there waiting for his heart rate to return to some semblance of normality. He raised one arm languidly and peered at his watch.
“Shit! Five minutes!” He heaved himself up on his elbows. Giga grimaced at him and slid down to the floor, throwing on jeans and tshirt in the half-dark (Chen-chen thought they were probably his, but it didn't really matter too much). The bassist followed, limping down the ladder hurriedly. He stood shifting from foot to foot for a minute while Giga dug around and located more clothes for him, then shuffled into them and attempted to straighten out both their hair.
“Right. What do we look like?” he demanded, fanning himself with his hand.
“...Like we just fucked in the back of a bus,” Giga told him honestly.
“Oh well. No help for it.” Chen-chen exhaled deeply and tugged the curtain back, stepping out as firmly as possible with his backside in its current put-upon state. He wandered nonchalantly down the aisle, and straight away came face to face with his three bandmates. Giga gulped down a nervous laugh behind him, and Chen-chen himself wasn't sure whether to snigger at the tableau or apologise profusely. Chiba was sitting between the two guitarists, who were clearly the only things keeping him in his seat: Fullface was pinning him down by the shoulders while Satty's slender hand was clapped across his mouth; both men were bright red and carefully avoiding eye contact with one another.
“...Thank god,” exclaimed Satty upon catching sight of them. “Do you have any idea how long we've been sitting like this?!”
“Huh?” said Giga, intelligently.
“Well he figured it out about fifteen minutes ago; and we wanted to give you the chance to at least finish,” Satty told them, blushing prettily and grinning in a sheepish way. He took his hands off the struggling Chiba with evident relief.
“Spoilsports!” cried the singer indignantly. “You guys don't let me have any fun!” Fullface smacked him across the head at this blatant falsehood, and Chiba turned to him. “Think of how nice we could all play together,” he said slyly, pinching Fullface's cheek teasingly. The guitarist spluttered for a few moments before abandoning the attempt to think of a comeback and curling up protectively in his seat like a hermit crab.
“So,” carried on Chiba, turning to Chen-chen and winking outrageously in the direction of the silent Giga. “Didn't I do a good job with him?”
“Shut it,” Chen-chen told him, collapsing into a seat opposite the rest of his band. Chiba observed his expression of discomfort as he tried to find a position that didn't make him ache, and grinned wider.
“What, did you let him go on top?” He shook his head sagely. “What a waste of a perfectly good-”
“All right, that is enough!” broke in Satty repressively, at Giga's look of profound embarrassment. He pushed Chiba out of his seat and beckoned the drummer to sit between himself and Fullface. Chiba, undismayed, bounced down next to Chen-chen. They all looked at each other. “Let's just go home,” suggested Satty. One by one they nodded. And then, because they were friends and they were still a great band and because even Chiba knew when to shut up and let it be, they all broke into smiles.”
“Right!” says Ni~ya, still looking slightly uncomfortable at this revelation of his other half's spell on the bottom, “is that all clear now?”
“You made it abundantly clear,” I tell him glumly. He leans back, lounging comfortably on his cushion, and takes a long swig of Asahi.
“That none of it was Chen-chen's idea,” he confirms.
“Chen-chen's name is clear,” I assure him wryly. I can't believe I just said that... I cast about for some scrap of comfort after yet another over-eighteen ramble down memory lane (I swear, if I hear the word 'cock' one more time I'm taping my own down and joining a nunnery!). Well, I suppose Gigaflare is marginally more bearable than Ruka in terms of obscenity levels. Is that really a comfort? I slump behind my camera, and sip weakly at my own Jack Daniels (though Dutch courage apparently has no effect on me...).
“What's your problem?” asks Ni~ya oh-so-kindly, lighting up while observing my fainting form. He blows out an elegant trail of smoke. “I kept it tasteful!”
If that was tasteful, I never want to hear one of them do tasteless. But who am I kidding? If I'm determined to persist with this project, I know it's only a matter of time.
**************
Hopefully this chapter helped erase the memories of the last one ^^;
Giga is, and will remain, a total wuss, mind you...
In other news, on Wednesday I went to see Naito at Zepp Nagoya! (first time in 7 years, so v. exciting!)
Obviously they were brilliant. They started off with Mimic and worked backwards through to Jisho Shounen Terrorist, it was awesome hearing all the old songs. And of course they were all totally hot (well, could barely see Ruka behind his hair, and he managed not to say a single word for the whole live, but still! And Sakito's legs, mmm...). Yomi's MCs were hilarious, as usual.
We were stood right in front of Hitsu, whose hair is now black and orange and looks completely adorable. He was having a lovely time XD
The point is that am now in a totally Hitsugi mood, but that will have to wait because next week's chapter will be more Yomi smut.
Thanks for reading!
Forward to chapter six
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