[maru/ohno feat others] runway strip to nowhere
Title: Runway strip to nowhere
Fandom: Johnny’s & Associates (Kanjani8, Arashi)
Prompt: 042, Hear
Characters: Maruyama Ryuhei, Ohno Satoshi, mentions of Yoko, Aiba, Yasu, Ryo, Ohkura, Mabo, Hina
Pairings: Ohno Satoshi/Maruyama Ryuhei
Word Count: 2000
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU
Summary: After six months of going back to his own bed every night, Ohno tells him to stay.
Notes: BAND AU IS BACK WITH PORN!!! :D lol this is procrastination. dedicated to clipsie and spurious. :3
“Oh-chan,” Maru says, breathless, throwing himself into the booth across from Ohno, bag held high so he doesn’t crush his camera with the slide of his hip.
“Ah, hi, Maru-chan,” says Ohno around a mouthful of rice.
Maru puts in an order for ramen and a beer, leaning on the table and looking up at Ohno with a lazy grin.
“How was work?” asks Ohno, eyes suddenly back on the scraps of napkin at his right hand; inspiration comes to Ohno at the weirdest times (even in the middle of sex up against the lighting cabinet at the theater, once-he’d muttered something about how the arch of Maru’s back when he drove into him was beautiful and he needed it for choreography) and a pen scratching at the paper, sketching out words, pirouette en dehors and grand jeté en avant and petit ballonné simple that mean nothing to Maru but make something beautiful on-stage.
“Good! Spent all day taking pictures-” he pauses to take a pretend picture, sound effects and all, of Ohno, who poses, laughing, and again Maru wishes he could record every twitch of the other man’s brow-“of little hair ties for one of the local ladies trying to set up a website~”
“Maru,” says Ohno, suddenly, “what about the photography studio?”
Maru laughs, then, and says, “who knows? They haven’t called me all week. Things have been quiet-it’ll pick up with graduations coming up.”
Ohno blinks sidelong like he wants to say something else for a moment-they both know the money Maru gets from playing at Club Eight isn’t enough to cover his half of the rent-but then Maru’s food comes so everything tumbles to a halt, and there’s no space in the conversation after that to talk about it. There’s certainly no space after the show, either, Ohno’s eyes too fixed on the way Maru’s fingers move over the strings of his bass and the muscles in his shoulders pull at his loose jacket to speak. He takes his time investigating Maru’s shoulders, pushing him up against the door of their apartment, quiet to avoid waking the neighbors again, and finally leads him back to his bed. They settle in silence, afterward, breathing in counterpoint with Ohno’s head pillowed on Maru’s arm and their heads ducked together. It’s only when they start to find a rhythm in their heartbeats that Maru tumbles out of the bed and stumbles back to his own, face pressed into the bedding and filled with words Ohno doesn’t want to hear. He says them anyway, quiet into his pillowcase, and Ohno probably hears but he doesn’t mention it then, or the next morning when Maru makes breakfast.
He applies to get his old job back, the one before Ohno and Ambient Lighting and pictures of trees and dreams, the one at the karaoke place, before lunch even rolls around; Mabo’s mouth does some funny things when he sees him with the paper in hand, but when Maru says he has to make the rent, he sighs and nods him in.
He doesn’t even go home after his shift of delivering drinks and helping newbies with the machines, just jumps straight on the train toward Osaka and gets off at the usual stop, fifteen blocks from Club Eight. Hina and Yoko are talking in low voices (or: low for them, which is hilariously normal volume for most ‘normal’ people) about ‘the budget’, which is Hina-speak for ‘how much we’re paying the guys from the band’. Maru greets them with a noisy, booming ‘PAAAAAN!’, and they both jump, turning to yell at him for interrupting them.
“Are Mom and Dad are fighting again?” Yasu teases from the back room, a crate full of clean glasses perched on his shoulder as he makes his way back to the bar.
“Never go to bed angry,” Aiba calls, “it’s bad for your relationship if you do.”
“I’m gonna put you to bed. Permanently,” Yoko grumbles, good-naturedly, and Hina cuffs him.
“Don’t kill the bartender, it’s expensive to hire a new one.”
“Hey! Is that all I’m really worth to you?”
“No, you come out to about-”
Yoko covers his mouth. Aiba giggles, and reaches into the rack in Yasu’s arms to start putting the glasses up.
“Yuu-chin~,” Maru calls, leaning his chin on Yoko’s shoulder, “Shi~in-chan~ stop worrying so much!”
“We knew getting into that this wasn’t going to be a one-job life,” Yasu agrees over his shoulder, sliding the shot glasses onto the shelf.
Hina eyes Maru. “Are you making rent?” he asks, bluntly.
“Mmmmm, barely,” Maru answers, “Matsu-nii gave me my job back for now, I’ll be fine!”
“Maru,” says Yoko, sounding pained, and Maru offers him a silly hand motion with his smile before he moves around them to help Aiba get the ice block out of storage.
Ohno’s in the crowd, of course, in between Taguchi and Kiriyama with a bottle of scotch he sips from to keep from licking his lips any time Maru glances up from under his bangs and laughs at the oblivious way Junno and Kiriyama keep yammering around Ohno’s head. He sings a song after Ryo and Yasu’s latest dual-guitar masterpiece, a fun jumping something with a thrumming bassline that has Ohno wanting those fingers in him instead of popping over strings. The night goes on, and eventually Maru and Ryo start stripping; Ohno has to drink a lot of scotch when Maru’s loose-necked white wifebeater, half-sheer with sweat and lighting, is all he’s wearing over low-slung tight jeans, and if the way Aiba grins at him and slides him another drink says anything it’s totally obvious. Ah well, there are worse people to know: Aiba’s been making eyes at Yoko’s halfway-unbuttoned button-down all evening.
The show ends with a song sung by Ohkura, a sweet ballad that lingers over the place, but Ohno’s eyes are on Maru. Maru, who’s mostly still in the un-light of the bar, his eyes closed and his head ducked low. When the last trailing notes spill from Ohkura’s lips, Maru’s eyes flutter open, and his eyes find Ohno’s face, his pupils wide and dark. Ohno takes a breath that makes Taguchi sneak a glance at him, and holds Maru’s gaze until the place begins to find life again.
Maru’s on top of Ohno, right arm braced against Ohno’s headboard and left hand buried two fingers two-knuckle deep inside of him. Ohno’s hands find Maru’s shoulders, and he digs his fingers in so deep Maru will have marks, red angry signs that Ohno was there, and Maru’s fingers crook, suddenly. Ohno groans, pushing fruitlessly against him, and drags his nails down Maru's chest until Maru adds a third finger. Maru pushes all three fingers in as far as they will go and forces his knuckles apart just the way Ohno likes it, and Ohno rewards him with a groan from the back of his throat.
"Now," Ohno half-orders, tilting his face up to look at Maru's face. Maru's fading perm is stuck all around his brow, slick with sweat, and Ohno reaches up to brush it back distractedly before Maru pulls away to grab one of the condoms spilled from the box across the bedside table. Maru puts it on with his tongue pushed between his lips, concentrating, and he digs the lube out from under the comforter half-shoved on the floor to slick himself up. Ohno spreads his knees as far as he can manage, just on the brink of too much exertion, and grabs his cock to slide his hand up and down. Maru's eyes follow the movement, and Ohno almost shifts his hips back to make a better show of it, but he wants Maru in him too much, now.
"Get over here," he says, and watches the pull of Maru's shoulders as he crawls over him. The scratch marks on Maru's chest are vivid against the tan of his skin, and when Maru leans close Ohno leans up to run his tongue down one from collarbone to nipple, teeth scratching skin as Maru's cock finds his opening and pushes him open. Ohno's not sure where to put his hands first, but he starts high, spreading his fingers over Maru's shoulders while Maru drives slowly, slowly into him. When Maru has found himself all the way inside, they take a moment to breathe in tandem, and then Maru's hips swing back. The force of his thrust back in makes Ohno's cock jump, and Ohno scratches down Maru's back in response (which was probably Maru's intent).
Maru sets a pace, eventually, slow but with enough force that Ohno rocks with every twitch of his hips, and by the time his hands find Ohno's cock there are marks all over his chest and shoulders from Ohno's hands and teeth. He pumps Ohno's cock in a rhythm opposite of his thrusts, and when his cock rubs up against Ohno's prostate and his thumb swipes over the head of his cock in eerie parallels, Ohno knows he's not going to last much longer. There's heat building in his belly already, and he shifts his hands to the back of Maru's head. His hair is long enough to wind both of his hands in, and he does it now to wrench Maru's face closer until they're kissing. Maru's tongue flicks against the roof of his mouth, and Ohno smiles a little at the way Maru's carefully plotted out pace starts to stutter and quicken every time Ohno tightens his grip on the hair at the nape of his neck.
Ohno wants to tell Maru that he's so very easy, but he kind of likes thinking that the only person who knows Maru acts like this is him. So he keeps it in, like he can't keep in the orgasm that sneaks up and rips through his body. When he comes, it's all over them both, and Maru pulls back to look at the splash of it on his stomach curiously. Ohno's eyes flick down toward it, and then Maru's fingers swipe across the pool on Ohno's belly. There's sticky white across his fingers when he pulls them up, and Ohno swallows, mouth suddenly bone dry, as Maru pushes his fingers past his own lips and licks them clean.
"Paaaaaan~" Maru whispers, and breaks into giggles against the hair matted to Ohno's ear. Ohno shakes his head, laughter shaking his chest, and loosens the fingers in Maru's hair to slide his arms around Maru's neck.
"Idiot," Ohno says, fondly, "now fuck me."
Maru's breath tunnels past Ohno's ear, even through his hair, and Maru pulls out as he shuffles back on the bed. After a moment of staring at Ohno, eyes serious and lower lip tugged under his teeth, he leans forward to hook his forearms under Ohno's knees. Ohno pushes himself up on his elbows and pulls his knees apart. He leans his weight on his left elbow and reaches out for Maru's cock, guiding it forward, and swings the back of his hand up the trail of hair on Maru's belly. He looks up, feeling bold, and grins when he sees Maru's brow furrowed in concentration. After a second, Maru looks back up, and he drives back into Ohno so hard Ohno's toes curl.
"Fuck," Ohno gasps, then "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," over and over again, like a litany until Maru's release finds him. Maru's fingers press into Ohno's thighs, so harshly Ohno is sure he'll have bruises, and Maru’s face slackens. Ohno rides out Maru riding out his orgasm, and when Maru’s eyes flutter open Ohno uses his knees to drag Maru forward until they’re in a pile of sweat and skin sliding together in Ohno’s bed.
Maru’s breath ghosts past his lips across Ohno’s jaw, and Ohno strokes Maru’s slide slowly, gently. Too gently, apparently, because Maru wiggles half-heartedly away from his fingers, and Ohno turns his face into Maru’s cheek to laugh at him.
Eventually, Maru moves to roll away, but Ohno wraps his arm around Maru’s shoulders, his grip like steel.
“Shut up,” Ohno says, “and sleep.”
(In the morning they’ll regret not cleaning themselves up at all, but for the night at least they sleep well.)
Fandom: Johnny’s & Associates (Kanjani8, Arashi)
Prompt: 042, Hear
Characters: Maruyama Ryuhei, Ohno Satoshi, mentions of Yoko, Aiba, Yasu, Ryo, Ohkura, Mabo, Hina
Pairings: Ohno Satoshi/Maruyama Ryuhei
Word Count: 2000
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU
Summary: After six months of going back to his own bed every night, Ohno tells him to stay.
Notes: BAND AU IS BACK WITH PORN!!! :D lol this is procrastination. dedicated to clipsie and spurious. :3
“Oh-chan,” Maru says, breathless, throwing himself into the booth across from Ohno, bag held high so he doesn’t crush his camera with the slide of his hip.
“Ah, hi, Maru-chan,” says Ohno around a mouthful of rice.
Maru puts in an order for ramen and a beer, leaning on the table and looking up at Ohno with a lazy grin.
“How was work?” asks Ohno, eyes suddenly back on the scraps of napkin at his right hand; inspiration comes to Ohno at the weirdest times (even in the middle of sex up against the lighting cabinet at the theater, once-he’d muttered something about how the arch of Maru’s back when he drove into him was beautiful and he needed it for choreography) and a pen scratching at the paper, sketching out words, pirouette en dehors and grand jeté en avant and petit ballonné simple that mean nothing to Maru but make something beautiful on-stage.
“Good! Spent all day taking pictures-” he pauses to take a pretend picture, sound effects and all, of Ohno, who poses, laughing, and again Maru wishes he could record every twitch of the other man’s brow-“of little hair ties for one of the local ladies trying to set up a website~”
“Maru,” says Ohno, suddenly, “what about the photography studio?”
Maru laughs, then, and says, “who knows? They haven’t called me all week. Things have been quiet-it’ll pick up with graduations coming up.”
Ohno blinks sidelong like he wants to say something else for a moment-they both know the money Maru gets from playing at Club Eight isn’t enough to cover his half of the rent-but then Maru’s food comes so everything tumbles to a halt, and there’s no space in the conversation after that to talk about it. There’s certainly no space after the show, either, Ohno’s eyes too fixed on the way Maru’s fingers move over the strings of his bass and the muscles in his shoulders pull at his loose jacket to speak. He takes his time investigating Maru’s shoulders, pushing him up against the door of their apartment, quiet to avoid waking the neighbors again, and finally leads him back to his bed. They settle in silence, afterward, breathing in counterpoint with Ohno’s head pillowed on Maru’s arm and their heads ducked together. It’s only when they start to find a rhythm in their heartbeats that Maru tumbles out of the bed and stumbles back to his own, face pressed into the bedding and filled with words Ohno doesn’t want to hear. He says them anyway, quiet into his pillowcase, and Ohno probably hears but he doesn’t mention it then, or the next morning when Maru makes breakfast.
He applies to get his old job back, the one before Ohno and Ambient Lighting and pictures of trees and dreams, the one at the karaoke place, before lunch even rolls around; Mabo’s mouth does some funny things when he sees him with the paper in hand, but when Maru says he has to make the rent, he sighs and nods him in.
He doesn’t even go home after his shift of delivering drinks and helping newbies with the machines, just jumps straight on the train toward Osaka and gets off at the usual stop, fifteen blocks from Club Eight. Hina and Yoko are talking in low voices (or: low for them, which is hilariously normal volume for most ‘normal’ people) about ‘the budget’, which is Hina-speak for ‘how much we’re paying the guys from the band’. Maru greets them with a noisy, booming ‘PAAAAAN!’, and they both jump, turning to yell at him for interrupting them.
“Are Mom and Dad are fighting again?” Yasu teases from the back room, a crate full of clean glasses perched on his shoulder as he makes his way back to the bar.
“Never go to bed angry,” Aiba calls, “it’s bad for your relationship if you do.”
“I’m gonna put you to bed. Permanently,” Yoko grumbles, good-naturedly, and Hina cuffs him.
“Don’t kill the bartender, it’s expensive to hire a new one.”
“Hey! Is that all I’m really worth to you?”
“No, you come out to about-”
Yoko covers his mouth. Aiba giggles, and reaches into the rack in Yasu’s arms to start putting the glasses up.
“Yuu-chin~,” Maru calls, leaning his chin on Yoko’s shoulder, “Shi~in-chan~ stop worrying so much!”
“We knew getting into that this wasn’t going to be a one-job life,” Yasu agrees over his shoulder, sliding the shot glasses onto the shelf.
Hina eyes Maru. “Are you making rent?” he asks, bluntly.
“Mmmmm, barely,” Maru answers, “Matsu-nii gave me my job back for now, I’ll be fine!”
“Maru,” says Yoko, sounding pained, and Maru offers him a silly hand motion with his smile before he moves around them to help Aiba get the ice block out of storage.
Ohno’s in the crowd, of course, in between Taguchi and Kiriyama with a bottle of scotch he sips from to keep from licking his lips any time Maru glances up from under his bangs and laughs at the oblivious way Junno and Kiriyama keep yammering around Ohno’s head. He sings a song after Ryo and Yasu’s latest dual-guitar masterpiece, a fun jumping something with a thrumming bassline that has Ohno wanting those fingers in him instead of popping over strings. The night goes on, and eventually Maru and Ryo start stripping; Ohno has to drink a lot of scotch when Maru’s loose-necked white wifebeater, half-sheer with sweat and lighting, is all he’s wearing over low-slung tight jeans, and if the way Aiba grins at him and slides him another drink says anything it’s totally obvious. Ah well, there are worse people to know: Aiba’s been making eyes at Yoko’s halfway-unbuttoned button-down all evening.
The show ends with a song sung by Ohkura, a sweet ballad that lingers over the place, but Ohno’s eyes are on Maru. Maru, who’s mostly still in the un-light of the bar, his eyes closed and his head ducked low. When the last trailing notes spill from Ohkura’s lips, Maru’s eyes flutter open, and his eyes find Ohno’s face, his pupils wide and dark. Ohno takes a breath that makes Taguchi sneak a glance at him, and holds Maru’s gaze until the place begins to find life again.
Maru’s on top of Ohno, right arm braced against Ohno’s headboard and left hand buried two fingers two-knuckle deep inside of him. Ohno’s hands find Maru’s shoulders, and he digs his fingers in so deep Maru will have marks, red angry signs that Ohno was there, and Maru’s fingers crook, suddenly. Ohno groans, pushing fruitlessly against him, and drags his nails down Maru's chest until Maru adds a third finger. Maru pushes all three fingers in as far as they will go and forces his knuckles apart just the way Ohno likes it, and Ohno rewards him with a groan from the back of his throat.
"Now," Ohno half-orders, tilting his face up to look at Maru's face. Maru's fading perm is stuck all around his brow, slick with sweat, and Ohno reaches up to brush it back distractedly before Maru pulls away to grab one of the condoms spilled from the box across the bedside table. Maru puts it on with his tongue pushed between his lips, concentrating, and he digs the lube out from under the comforter half-shoved on the floor to slick himself up. Ohno spreads his knees as far as he can manage, just on the brink of too much exertion, and grabs his cock to slide his hand up and down. Maru's eyes follow the movement, and Ohno almost shifts his hips back to make a better show of it, but he wants Maru in him too much, now.
"Get over here," he says, and watches the pull of Maru's shoulders as he crawls over him. The scratch marks on Maru's chest are vivid against the tan of his skin, and when Maru leans close Ohno leans up to run his tongue down one from collarbone to nipple, teeth scratching skin as Maru's cock finds his opening and pushes him open. Ohno's not sure where to put his hands first, but he starts high, spreading his fingers over Maru's shoulders while Maru drives slowly, slowly into him. When Maru has found himself all the way inside, they take a moment to breathe in tandem, and then Maru's hips swing back. The force of his thrust back in makes Ohno's cock jump, and Ohno scratches down Maru's back in response (which was probably Maru's intent).
Maru sets a pace, eventually, slow but with enough force that Ohno rocks with every twitch of his hips, and by the time his hands find Ohno's cock there are marks all over his chest and shoulders from Ohno's hands and teeth. He pumps Ohno's cock in a rhythm opposite of his thrusts, and when his cock rubs up against Ohno's prostate and his thumb swipes over the head of his cock in eerie parallels, Ohno knows he's not going to last much longer. There's heat building in his belly already, and he shifts his hands to the back of Maru's head. His hair is long enough to wind both of his hands in, and he does it now to wrench Maru's face closer until they're kissing. Maru's tongue flicks against the roof of his mouth, and Ohno smiles a little at the way Maru's carefully plotted out pace starts to stutter and quicken every time Ohno tightens his grip on the hair at the nape of his neck.
Ohno wants to tell Maru that he's so very easy, but he kind of likes thinking that the only person who knows Maru acts like this is him. So he keeps it in, like he can't keep in the orgasm that sneaks up and rips through his body. When he comes, it's all over them both, and Maru pulls back to look at the splash of it on his stomach curiously. Ohno's eyes flick down toward it, and then Maru's fingers swipe across the pool on Ohno's belly. There's sticky white across his fingers when he pulls them up, and Ohno swallows, mouth suddenly bone dry, as Maru pushes his fingers past his own lips and licks them clean.
"Paaaaaan~" Maru whispers, and breaks into giggles against the hair matted to Ohno's ear. Ohno shakes his head, laughter shaking his chest, and loosens the fingers in Maru's hair to slide his arms around Maru's neck.
"Idiot," Ohno says, fondly, "now fuck me."
Maru's breath tunnels past Ohno's ear, even through his hair, and Maru pulls out as he shuffles back on the bed. After a moment of staring at Ohno, eyes serious and lower lip tugged under his teeth, he leans forward to hook his forearms under Ohno's knees. Ohno pushes himself up on his elbows and pulls his knees apart. He leans his weight on his left elbow and reaches out for Maru's cock, guiding it forward, and swings the back of his hand up the trail of hair on Maru's belly. He looks up, feeling bold, and grins when he sees Maru's brow furrowed in concentration. After a second, Maru looks back up, and he drives back into Ohno so hard Ohno's toes curl.
"Fuck," Ohno gasps, then "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," over and over again, like a litany until Maru's release finds him. Maru's fingers press into Ohno's thighs, so harshly Ohno is sure he'll have bruises, and Maru’s face slackens. Ohno rides out Maru riding out his orgasm, and when Maru’s eyes flutter open Ohno uses his knees to drag Maru forward until they’re in a pile of sweat and skin sliding together in Ohno’s bed.
Maru’s breath ghosts past his lips across Ohno’s jaw, and Ohno strokes Maru’s slide slowly, gently. Too gently, apparently, because Maru wiggles half-heartedly away from his fingers, and Ohno turns his face into Maru’s cheek to laugh at him.
Eventually, Maru moves to roll away, but Ohno wraps his arm around Maru’s shoulders, his grip like steel.
“Shut up,” Ohno says, “and sleep.”
(In the morning they’ll regret not cleaning themselves up at all, but for the night at least they sleep well.)