[Pippa] Just Enough Time
Just Enough Time
NC-17; Yara/Yamamoto; total PWP.
No really, total PWP. This is going to be one of those things I regret writing in the morning, isn't it. ;;
~
When Yamamoto dropped to his knees in front of his chair in the practice room, Yara's breath momentarily hitched. Running one hand firmly down over Yara's abs and skating over his belt before pressing the heel of his palm against the rapidly-swelling bulge in Yara's pants, Yamamoto flicked his gaze up to meet Yara's eyes and gave a quick, secretive smile. "We've got time for this, right?"
Whether they did or not, Yara wasn't exactly about to say no. He gave a terse nod, tongue darting out to wet his lips as Yamamoto's hands unfastened Yara's belt and tugged at the fastening of his baggy jeans.
It didn't take long for Yara to be fully hard, and as he leaned back in his chair he watched Yamamoto's concentrating expression with keen interest; the slight part of his lips, the darkness of his eyes, the way he shifted on his knees as his arousal nudged at the material of his own pants. Yamamoto looked up then, a brief flash of communication before he ducked down and lightly swiped his tongue across the reddened head of Yara's cock.
Yara exhaled without realising he'd even been holding his breath; the slight noise made Yamamoto glance up with a small grin, but before Yara had time to process this that tongue was back again, swirling around the tip of his cock before Yamamoto lowered his head and slid his warm, slick lips over Yara's over-heated skin, swallowing him down while Yamamoto's hand loosely stroked the parts his mouth couldn't take.
Yamamoto hummed a question, glancing up at Yara through his bangs, and Yara felt sparks fizzle along his nerve endings as the hum buzzed through him. How is it? Is this okay? He knew the question without needing to hear words, and in return he gave a short nod. It's good. Yamamoto's tongue swirled around Yara's head, licking a trail up the sensitive underside of his cock as he bobbed his head up and down, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, and licked, and moved his hand more… Yara almost swore then, cursing that the brat had learned too well how to make him unravel but god, don't stop, whatever you do don't stop doing that.
Yara slowly felt pressure building inside him, as though energy was travelling from all the different parts of his body, crackling as connections sparked inside him and then Yamamoto stopped, pulled away and paused to catch his breath, and for a wretched moment he looked more lovely than Yara could have imagined and he almost said something he might come to regret, something that needed to wait for a time that wasn't now… But then Yamamoto's tongue darted out again, and his movements sped up, and Yara knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Unless…How much time was there?
"Ryota," Yara said, and his voice seemed loud to himself in the stillness of their practice room. Yamamoto paused and pulled away, lips reddened. Yara wanted to kiss him, weirdness be damned. He resisted. "Go and get my bag."
"I've got stuff in mine," Yamamoto responded, not bothering to waste time on embarrassment as he reached across the short distance for his bag and pulled out lubricant and a condom. He pulled down his own jeans and underwear, kicking them off altogether before he turned back to Yara, struggling to keep his breathing even.
Yara slicked his fingers without a moment's pause, shifting so that his jeans slid down to his ankles and then reaching out with his free hand to pull Yamamoto half onto his lap, facing Yara with his knees either side of Yara's hips. Yamamoto moaned softly as Yara reached down between his legs, resting his arms on Yara's shoulders and then leaning his head on his own arm as Yara worked him open. Slick fingers circled, rubbing and teasing until Yamamoto gave a choked sob of want and Yara pressed a firm, hard kiss to Yamamoto's cheek before he slid his fingers in, one and then the other in quick succession, then a third, scissoring, twisting and stretching until Yamamoto was practically riding his hand, cheeks burning, skin hot.
Tomo, Yamamoto whispered, and with presence of mind Yara had not really expected he pulled the sealed condom packet from Yara's other hand and tore it open, rolling the pre-lubricated sheath over Yara's cock and slicking it with yet more lube. Yamamoto planted his feet on the floor and moved, bringing their bodies closer together before he slid down onto Yara's cock, breath leaving his lungs with a whimper that sent a jolt through Yara's body.
Okay? Yara could barely hear himself over the rushing in his ears, and it was only as Yamamoto began to move by himself that he understood the answer. Yes, like that, more of that, just there; Yamamoto's arms were around Yara's neck again, and his arousal was hard between the two of them, and the muscles of his stomach and legs tensed and moved as he slid against Yara, cheeks red and eyes dazed.
Yara didn't know how he had the presence of mind to wrap his hand around Yamamoto's erection, thumbing the precum-smeared head and tugging with an unintentional slowness borne more of distraction than deliberate teasing. It only served to push Yamamoto further, thrusting up into the tight tunnel of Yara's fist before sinking back onto Yara's cock once more. Sweat beaded on Yamamoto's forehead and upper lip; his hair stuck to the back of his neck and on impulse Yara leaned forward to lick a line up Yamamoto's neck to just below his ear. He inhaled then, breathing in the mixed scents of Yamamoto's shampoo and fresh sweat, and with a growl Yara snapped his hips up against Yamamoto's, fist tightening around the other man's erection as he came.
When the world righted itself again Yara realised his hand and his shirt were both sticky with Yamamoto's come. He couldn't bring himself to care, wiping his hands off on his shirt and helping Yamamoto climb off his lap. The condom went in the trash; Yamamoto relocated his clothing, and Yara pulled off his shirt. He gave a juddering sigh, then grinned at Yamamoto, who grinned back.
"Shall we be nice, and pick another practice room for the others to work in today?" Yara asked as he refastened his jeans, tilting his head with curiosity.
Yamamoto laughed. "Maybe we should," he said. Then he paused, quietened and grinned, this time with a more mischievous glint in his eyes. "...No, let's not bother."
NC-17; Yara/Yamamoto; total PWP.
No really, total PWP. This is going to be one of those things I regret writing in the morning, isn't it. ;;
~
When Yamamoto dropped to his knees in front of his chair in the practice room, Yara's breath momentarily hitched. Running one hand firmly down over Yara's abs and skating over his belt before pressing the heel of his palm against the rapidly-swelling bulge in Yara's pants, Yamamoto flicked his gaze up to meet Yara's eyes and gave a quick, secretive smile. "We've got time for this, right?"
Whether they did or not, Yara wasn't exactly about to say no. He gave a terse nod, tongue darting out to wet his lips as Yamamoto's hands unfastened Yara's belt and tugged at the fastening of his baggy jeans.
It didn't take long for Yara to be fully hard, and as he leaned back in his chair he watched Yamamoto's concentrating expression with keen interest; the slight part of his lips, the darkness of his eyes, the way he shifted on his knees as his arousal nudged at the material of his own pants. Yamamoto looked up then, a brief flash of communication before he ducked down and lightly swiped his tongue across the reddened head of Yara's cock.
Yara exhaled without realising he'd even been holding his breath; the slight noise made Yamamoto glance up with a small grin, but before Yara had time to process this that tongue was back again, swirling around the tip of his cock before Yamamoto lowered his head and slid his warm, slick lips over Yara's over-heated skin, swallowing him down while Yamamoto's hand loosely stroked the parts his mouth couldn't take.
Yamamoto hummed a question, glancing up at Yara through his bangs, and Yara felt sparks fizzle along his nerve endings as the hum buzzed through him. How is it? Is this okay? He knew the question without needing to hear words, and in return he gave a short nod. It's good. Yamamoto's tongue swirled around Yara's head, licking a trail up the sensitive underside of his cock as he bobbed his head up and down, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, and licked, and moved his hand more… Yara almost swore then, cursing that the brat had learned too well how to make him unravel but god, don't stop, whatever you do don't stop doing that.
Yara slowly felt pressure building inside him, as though energy was travelling from all the different parts of his body, crackling as connections sparked inside him and then Yamamoto stopped, pulled away and paused to catch his breath, and for a wretched moment he looked more lovely than Yara could have imagined and he almost said something he might come to regret, something that needed to wait for a time that wasn't now… But then Yamamoto's tongue darted out again, and his movements sped up, and Yara knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Unless…How much time was there?
"Ryota," Yara said, and his voice seemed loud to himself in the stillness of their practice room. Yamamoto paused and pulled away, lips reddened. Yara wanted to kiss him, weirdness be damned. He resisted. "Go and get my bag."
"I've got stuff in mine," Yamamoto responded, not bothering to waste time on embarrassment as he reached across the short distance for his bag and pulled out lubricant and a condom. He pulled down his own jeans and underwear, kicking them off altogether before he turned back to Yara, struggling to keep his breathing even.
Yara slicked his fingers without a moment's pause, shifting so that his jeans slid down to his ankles and then reaching out with his free hand to pull Yamamoto half onto his lap, facing Yara with his knees either side of Yara's hips. Yamamoto moaned softly as Yara reached down between his legs, resting his arms on Yara's shoulders and then leaning his head on his own arm as Yara worked him open. Slick fingers circled, rubbing and teasing until Yamamoto gave a choked sob of want and Yara pressed a firm, hard kiss to Yamamoto's cheek before he slid his fingers in, one and then the other in quick succession, then a third, scissoring, twisting and stretching until Yamamoto was practically riding his hand, cheeks burning, skin hot.
Tomo, Yamamoto whispered, and with presence of mind Yara had not really expected he pulled the sealed condom packet from Yara's other hand and tore it open, rolling the pre-lubricated sheath over Yara's cock and slicking it with yet more lube. Yamamoto planted his feet on the floor and moved, bringing their bodies closer together before he slid down onto Yara's cock, breath leaving his lungs with a whimper that sent a jolt through Yara's body.
Okay? Yara could barely hear himself over the rushing in his ears, and it was only as Yamamoto began to move by himself that he understood the answer. Yes, like that, more of that, just there; Yamamoto's arms were around Yara's neck again, and his arousal was hard between the two of them, and the muscles of his stomach and legs tensed and moved as he slid against Yara, cheeks red and eyes dazed.
Yara didn't know how he had the presence of mind to wrap his hand around Yamamoto's erection, thumbing the precum-smeared head and tugging with an unintentional slowness borne more of distraction than deliberate teasing. It only served to push Yamamoto further, thrusting up into the tight tunnel of Yara's fist before sinking back onto Yara's cock once more. Sweat beaded on Yamamoto's forehead and upper lip; his hair stuck to the back of his neck and on impulse Yara leaned forward to lick a line up Yamamoto's neck to just below his ear. He inhaled then, breathing in the mixed scents of Yamamoto's shampoo and fresh sweat, and with a growl Yara snapped his hips up against Yamamoto's, fist tightening around the other man's erection as he came.
When the world righted itself again Yara realised his hand and his shirt were both sticky with Yamamoto's come. He couldn't bring himself to care, wiping his hands off on his shirt and helping Yamamoto climb off his lap. The condom went in the trash; Yamamoto relocated his clothing, and Yara pulled off his shirt. He gave a juddering sigh, then grinned at Yamamoto, who grinned back.
"Shall we be nice, and pick another practice room for the others to work in today?" Yara asked as he refastened his jeans, tilting his head with curiosity.
Yamamoto laughed. "Maybe we should," he said. Then he paused, quietened and grinned, this time with a more mischievous glint in his eyes. "...No, let's not bother."