Black beauty - Aoi/couch
Chapters: Oneshot
Genre: Crack, Smut
Rating: R
Warnings: "sex" with a couch, possible stains
Summary: The first time he laid his eyes upon it, just sitting in the far right corner of the show area, he was smitten. It seemed so wrong.
Word count: 1,164
Disclaimer: I'm in no way affiliated with the GazettE or PS Company.
Characters are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental.
Comments: The idea for this pairing was mentioned to me by heygeorge and josietries. I just wrote something for it.
Also written for jrockfetishfic, prompt L - leather.
Great many thanks to heygeorge!
The first time he laid his eyes upon it, just sitting in the far right corner of the show area, he was smitten. It seemed so wrong. Its rightful place should have been in the centre of the room. But he was grateful to the unknown fool obviously misplacing it and cramming the centre with other garish pieces of furniture. Had it not been for that person, someone would have taken it away from him.
By nature he wasn’t an impulsive man, truth be told he had a somewhat volatile temper, but when it came to important life altering decisions, he always thought everything through before acting. This time it was different, the decision made the moment he’d seen it. For the first time in his life he felt like he understood the concept of love at first sight, at that moment he knew he just had to take it home with him, no questions asked.
Purchasing it with his golden Visa, he paid extra for a fast delivery and spent the rest of the day pacing around his apartment impatiently, ignoring calls on his mobile phone and angry messages from their manager. He failed to show up at a meeting scheduled for that afternoon. He didn’t care, one meeting more or less, they would survive without his presence. On the other hand the delivery men could miss him, finding his doors locked and his apartment empty, they’d be forced to return some other day. He couldn’t risk that happening, waiting through just a single day more would kill him, waiting for a few hours was already a torture enough.
Jumping to the long awaited buzz, he pressed the button for the unlocking of the building entrance, not bothering to check who it was. He yanked his front door open and practically ran to the stairwell. Straining his ears and peeping over the fence, he could hear the grunts of two men climbing up, see the glimpses of the new couch they were carrying each time they turned a corner. They reached his floor and it was finally here, in all its black beauty.
“Put it in the centre,” he directed once they were inside his apartment, barely holding down his bubbling excitement.
Ushering the delivery men out and stuffing the protective plastic wrapper he practically ripped away in their hands, he slammed the door behind them, locked it and turned around. His back resting on the door, his gaze travelled to the couch placed in the centre of his living room, right where it belonged.
“Finally,” he murmured.
He started to approach it but an idea came to him. Rushing to the kitchen and fumbling around loudly in the drawers, he was back to the living room in a matter of seconds with a pack of candles in his hands. He lit a whole dozen, strategically placing them around the room. Turning the light switch off, his breath caught in his throat. Everything looked perfect, magic even. Taut black leather practically glowing in the soft golden light.
He closed in on the couch slowly, his steps graceful. He loomed over it, taking in the sight in front of him before reaching out a tentative hand to touch it. With light strokes, almost caresses, he marveled at the feel of soft, yet undeniably hard leather under his fingers. He sat carefully then, both hands resting by his sides, leaning his head on the back rest, he sighed and just stayed like that for a moment, or a few.
Opening eyes he couldn’t remember closing in the first place, he scooted to the middle, his back sliding down the slick surface, he lay down, marveling at the feel of the whole hard length of the couch under him. Turning on his side, he dug his nose in the crook between the seat and the back rest. The scent was overpowering, so fresh, so strong and so masculine. He couldn’t get enough of it, so he stayed lying like that for who knows how long, just breathing in and almost forgetting to breathe out.
Eventually stirring out of his haze, he let his left hand travel upward, caressing the fine leather on its way. Shifting his right hand from his hip to his crotch, he rubbed the rough fabric of his jeans with his palm. He groaned at the sensation, he couldn’t remember the last time he was so hard. Unbuttoning his pants, pulling the zipper open, he slid his boxers down, taking his cock in his hand. His pace was unhurried, just slow lazy movements of his wrist, his breathing relaxed and easy but soon enough he needed to feel more. Pulling his t-shirt off, he threw it on the coffee table, sending the remote control that was there crashing to the floor. Pushing his jeans together with his underwear down, he kicked them to the floor. In a matter of seconds he was left completely naked.
He lay there, completely still, just savoring every little sensation; his shoulder blades digging into the hard surface, smooth leather touching his skin as if caressing his buttocks. His toes curled around the armrest, stretching his arms above his head, he pressed his body more firmly against the couch, wriggling his ass around, enjoying the sweet friction his movements provided him. Turning on his stomach, he plastered himself all over its surface. His nails grazing it slightly, but not hard enough to leave any visible traces, his nipples sticking to it, he enjoyed the cool feeling against his legs and his crotch, especially against his crotch. Rubbing his whole body against the couch experimentally he couldn’t help but moan, a little bit of spit escaping his mouth, sliding down his cheek to the leather.
Picking himself up on his elbow, he grabbed his cock with his free hand and tugged on it vehemently. He could have used some lubrication, but he was too gone to care. His damp palm and a little bit of precum would have to do. Continuing to pump himself, he pressed his sweaty forehead against the couch, strands of hair getting caught in between, his hot breath leaving a delicate trail of condensation on the leather surface. His whole body shaking, it was becoming harder to balance himself the nearer his orgasm was drawing. His body coiling, his hips jerking frantically, he was coming hard, so hard he almost fell off the couch in the process. Breathing heavily, he tumbled on his side, his wet skin clinging to the surface. Coming down from his high, he looked down to the place where white fluid glistened in a beautiful contrast with the black leather. He pulled himself up quickly, shuffling in the direction of the bathroom on his still shaky limbs.
Returning with a wet towel in his hands, Aoi stopped to admire his couch again. Good thing he didn’t have many people coming over, he thought with a smile. He didn’t like to share.
Genre: Crack, Smut
Rating: R
Warnings: "sex" with a couch, possible stains
Summary: The first time he laid his eyes upon it, just sitting in the far right corner of the show area, he was smitten. It seemed so wrong.
Word count: 1,164
Disclaimer: I'm in no way affiliated with the GazettE or PS Company.
Characters are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental.
Comments: The idea for this pairing was mentioned to me by heygeorge and josietries. I just wrote something for it.
Also written for jrockfetishfic, prompt L - leather.
Great many thanks to heygeorge!
The first time he laid his eyes upon it, just sitting in the far right corner of the show area, he was smitten. It seemed so wrong. Its rightful place should have been in the centre of the room. But he was grateful to the unknown fool obviously misplacing it and cramming the centre with other garish pieces of furniture. Had it not been for that person, someone would have taken it away from him.
By nature he wasn’t an impulsive man, truth be told he had a somewhat volatile temper, but when it came to important life altering decisions, he always thought everything through before acting. This time it was different, the decision made the moment he’d seen it. For the first time in his life he felt like he understood the concept of love at first sight, at that moment he knew he just had to take it home with him, no questions asked.
Purchasing it with his golden Visa, he paid extra for a fast delivery and spent the rest of the day pacing around his apartment impatiently, ignoring calls on his mobile phone and angry messages from their manager. He failed to show up at a meeting scheduled for that afternoon. He didn’t care, one meeting more or less, they would survive without his presence. On the other hand the delivery men could miss him, finding his doors locked and his apartment empty, they’d be forced to return some other day. He couldn’t risk that happening, waiting through just a single day more would kill him, waiting for a few hours was already a torture enough.
Jumping to the long awaited buzz, he pressed the button for the unlocking of the building entrance, not bothering to check who it was. He yanked his front door open and practically ran to the stairwell. Straining his ears and peeping over the fence, he could hear the grunts of two men climbing up, see the glimpses of the new couch they were carrying each time they turned a corner. They reached his floor and it was finally here, in all its black beauty.
“Put it in the centre,” he directed once they were inside his apartment, barely holding down his bubbling excitement.
Ushering the delivery men out and stuffing the protective plastic wrapper he practically ripped away in their hands, he slammed the door behind them, locked it and turned around. His back resting on the door, his gaze travelled to the couch placed in the centre of his living room, right where it belonged.
“Finally,” he murmured.
He started to approach it but an idea came to him. Rushing to the kitchen and fumbling around loudly in the drawers, he was back to the living room in a matter of seconds with a pack of candles in his hands. He lit a whole dozen, strategically placing them around the room. Turning the light switch off, his breath caught in his throat. Everything looked perfect, magic even. Taut black leather practically glowing in the soft golden light.
He closed in on the couch slowly, his steps graceful. He loomed over it, taking in the sight in front of him before reaching out a tentative hand to touch it. With light strokes, almost caresses, he marveled at the feel of soft, yet undeniably hard leather under his fingers. He sat carefully then, both hands resting by his sides, leaning his head on the back rest, he sighed and just stayed like that for a moment, or a few.
Opening eyes he couldn’t remember closing in the first place, he scooted to the middle, his back sliding down the slick surface, he lay down, marveling at the feel of the whole hard length of the couch under him. Turning on his side, he dug his nose in the crook between the seat and the back rest. The scent was overpowering, so fresh, so strong and so masculine. He couldn’t get enough of it, so he stayed lying like that for who knows how long, just breathing in and almost forgetting to breathe out.
Eventually stirring out of his haze, he let his left hand travel upward, caressing the fine leather on its way. Shifting his right hand from his hip to his crotch, he rubbed the rough fabric of his jeans with his palm. He groaned at the sensation, he couldn’t remember the last time he was so hard. Unbuttoning his pants, pulling the zipper open, he slid his boxers down, taking his cock in his hand. His pace was unhurried, just slow lazy movements of his wrist, his breathing relaxed and easy but soon enough he needed to feel more. Pulling his t-shirt off, he threw it on the coffee table, sending the remote control that was there crashing to the floor. Pushing his jeans together with his underwear down, he kicked them to the floor. In a matter of seconds he was left completely naked.
He lay there, completely still, just savoring every little sensation; his shoulder blades digging into the hard surface, smooth leather touching his skin as if caressing his buttocks. His toes curled around the armrest, stretching his arms above his head, he pressed his body more firmly against the couch, wriggling his ass around, enjoying the sweet friction his movements provided him. Turning on his stomach, he plastered himself all over its surface. His nails grazing it slightly, but not hard enough to leave any visible traces, his nipples sticking to it, he enjoyed the cool feeling against his legs and his crotch, especially against his crotch. Rubbing his whole body against the couch experimentally he couldn’t help but moan, a little bit of spit escaping his mouth, sliding down his cheek to the leather.
Picking himself up on his elbow, he grabbed his cock with his free hand and tugged on it vehemently. He could have used some lubrication, but he was too gone to care. His damp palm and a little bit of precum would have to do. Continuing to pump himself, he pressed his sweaty forehead against the couch, strands of hair getting caught in between, his hot breath leaving a delicate trail of condensation on the leather surface. His whole body shaking, it was becoming harder to balance himself the nearer his orgasm was drawing. His body coiling, his hips jerking frantically, he was coming hard, so hard he almost fell off the couch in the process. Breathing heavily, he tumbled on his side, his wet skin clinging to the surface. Coming down from his high, he looked down to the place where white fluid glistened in a beautiful contrast with the black leather. He pulled himself up quickly, shuffling in the direction of the bathroom on his still shaky limbs.
Returning with a wet towel in his hands, Aoi stopped to admire his couch again. Good thing he didn’t have many people coming over, he thought with a smile. He didn’t like to share.