Chocolate Fic for alchemy_of_yaoi
To: alchemy_of_yaoi
From: crystallekil
Title: Spin Right Round
Pairing: Kusano Hironori X Rihanna, cameo by Katou Shigeaki
Rating: R for oral love in the club
Summary: PWP - music can bring anyone together.
A/N: for alchemy_of_yaoi for je_whiteday 2009. I hope this makes you smile. :)
If he were asked the main similarity between America and Japan, Kusano would reply without hesitation, "the music." No matter whether he's in a club in Tokyo or New York City, the bass flows through his veins and his body moves to the beat regardless of what language is being sung.
The irony does not go unnoticed that while he's legal in Japan, he isn't here, the glowing green bracelet notifying everyone of that fact. He doesn't really mind though, he can give or take the liquor in favor of the atmosphere. Not that many clubs allow minors anyway, and after what happened he's not about to get a fake I.D. like his friends.
It's a school night but he's out anyway, needing to get away in the middle of the week. Perhaps that's why he came here in the first place, maybe even why he'll leave. He spends all day being told how to move when all he wants is to move freely, rocking his hips and turning his shoulders naturally.
People are probably staring, but he doesn't care. People are probably whispering about his sexuality, but he doesn't think there's anything wrong with dancing by himself. He doesn't like to dance with girls because for the most part they can't; dancing isn't even their intention as they grind against him and try to turn him on.
Nothing turns him off more than a lack of rhythm. So he dances alone.
His eyes closed, his breath even, his mind in another place where all that exists is the music until there's a density before him. She's taller than him, her hips fitting nicely in his hands, her forwardness taking him by surprise. He wants to push her away but she can actually move, picking up on his tempo and fitting right in.
She's dark, darker than the club as he peeks through his heavy eyelids. Her shoulder shines in the neon lights, the smooth skin interrupted by a thin strap that doesn't look strong enough to hold up her slinky dress. She's soft and thick and just the way he likes them, hair loose and lips shimmering and hips that rival his own.
He wants to ask her name, but that would break the rhythm. Instead he struggles to keep up with her, hands firm on her waist to hold her steady when she threatens to move faster. If he's going to let her dance with him, they're going to do it his way.
A laugh courses through her as she complies, maintaining his pace while lacing their fingers together. She stretches their arms out and brings them closer together, Kusano's groin fitting neatly between the curves of her backside as their bodies roll together. Abruptly she lets go of his hands and grabs onto the fabric on the outside of his thighs, making his breath catch in his throat as the music and her touch combine for a different kind of arousal.
She has to feel it, it's her fault it's there, he can't even be embarrassed as he rocks against her, faltering in his rhythm as the pounding bass leads him to switch focus. She turns and offers a smirk, hooking a finger in his belt loop to pull him across the dance floor while he's too dazed to stop her.
He knows who she is, of course he does. He couldn't live here for a month without hearing her voice on the radio. He starts to say her name in surprise but is halted by her mouth, gets as far as "Ri-" before the same tongue that forms those beautiful words is now stealing his. His back vibrates as he's pushed up against a speaker, feeling the bass even more as it thumps through his entire body.
Her hands are all over him, kissing him fiercely as they continue to move together, rubbing against each other just enough to be teasing. Finally he sinks his fingers into the thin material covering her ass and pulls her close, groaning into her mouth as the pressure accumulates.
Slowly she pulls away, her lips still glossy as she presses a single finger to his panting mouth and slides her other hand down the front of his pants. He arches into her touch, his eyelids falling shut as he becomes even more aroused and starstruck at the same time.
Since he's not looking, he doesn't see her drop to her knees before him, and he's taken completely by surprise when she unfastens his pants and takes him into her mouth. This isn't just any other blow job - it's her and they're here and he chokes on his own breath as he dares his eyes open and sees her looking up at him.
Her nails slide up his chest as she sucks him in and out, and he spares a thought to her level of drunkenness until he sees the matching green bracelet on her wrist. It makes him feel better about it and let go, bracing himself against the back of the speaker as his tension coils.
A different kind of vibration demands his attention, his phone going off in his pocket, and he's determined to ignore it until it's fished out and he looks down to see her holding it out to him, not once wavering in her motions.
It's clear that she wants him to answer it, and all he can do is pray that it's not his mom as he flips it open and manages a "hello."
"Kusano!" a familiar voice yells in a way that seems louder than the booming music. "Where are you?"
Kusano bites his lip to keep from moaning into the phone. "Shige?"
"I can't hear you!" Shige exclaims, follows by a series of high-pitched laughter. "Did you go out on a school night?"
Worse than his mother, Kusano thinks as he tries to form an answer. A hot, wet mouth is squeezing around him and it's difficult to remember his own name right now. "It's- it's early there," he sputters out, the Japanese syllables feeling foreign on his tongue after so long.
"What are you doing?" Shige asks, his voice sounding a little slurred and answering Kusano's unspoken question about why he's still up at four a.m.
Kusano's not sure how to answer that question without traumatizing his friend, but he quickly becomes more concerned with how he's going to end the call before he can't hide it anymore.
"Hold on," he sputters, pointing the phone away as his head falls back and his body shudders in orgasm. A deep groan is torn from his throat and immediately he stares downward, scared that he imagined the whole thing and it really isn't Rihanna between his legs, but her big eyes shine up at him as she slowly licks her lips.
He wants to ask why, mostly why him, but he seems to have lost control of his voice as she stands up and smoothes out her dress. Instead he just gapes at her, speechless as she smiles and points to his phone.
Still catching his breath, he returns the forgotten object to his ear. "Shige?"
A very loud snore answers him. Kusano rolls his eyes and hangs up, returns to his companion - who is nowhere to be found.
"It's easy for a good girl to go bad," her voice echoes in his head, making him look around at the empty faces as he inconspicuously fastens his pants.
He thinks there's some lesson to be learned in her words, but he's still too intoxicated from her mouth to make much sense of them. All he can do is suppose that music isn't the only universal language anymore.
From: crystallekil
Title: Spin Right Round
Pairing: Kusano Hironori X Rihanna, cameo by Katou Shigeaki
Rating: R for oral love in the club
Summary: PWP - music can bring anyone together.
A/N: for alchemy_of_yaoi for je_whiteday 2009. I hope this makes you smile. :)
If he were asked the main similarity between America and Japan, Kusano would reply without hesitation, "the music." No matter whether he's in a club in Tokyo or New York City, the bass flows through his veins and his body moves to the beat regardless of what language is being sung.
The irony does not go unnoticed that while he's legal in Japan, he isn't here, the glowing green bracelet notifying everyone of that fact. He doesn't really mind though, he can give or take the liquor in favor of the atmosphere. Not that many clubs allow minors anyway, and after what happened he's not about to get a fake I.D. like his friends.
It's a school night but he's out anyway, needing to get away in the middle of the week. Perhaps that's why he came here in the first place, maybe even why he'll leave. He spends all day being told how to move when all he wants is to move freely, rocking his hips and turning his shoulders naturally.
People are probably staring, but he doesn't care. People are probably whispering about his sexuality, but he doesn't think there's anything wrong with dancing by himself. He doesn't like to dance with girls because for the most part they can't; dancing isn't even their intention as they grind against him and try to turn him on.
Nothing turns him off more than a lack of rhythm. So he dances alone.
His eyes closed, his breath even, his mind in another place where all that exists is the music until there's a density before him. She's taller than him, her hips fitting nicely in his hands, her forwardness taking him by surprise. He wants to push her away but she can actually move, picking up on his tempo and fitting right in.
She's dark, darker than the club as he peeks through his heavy eyelids. Her shoulder shines in the neon lights, the smooth skin interrupted by a thin strap that doesn't look strong enough to hold up her slinky dress. She's soft and thick and just the way he likes them, hair loose and lips shimmering and hips that rival his own.
He wants to ask her name, but that would break the rhythm. Instead he struggles to keep up with her, hands firm on her waist to hold her steady when she threatens to move faster. If he's going to let her dance with him, they're going to do it his way.
A laugh courses through her as she complies, maintaining his pace while lacing their fingers together. She stretches their arms out and brings them closer together, Kusano's groin fitting neatly between the curves of her backside as their bodies roll together. Abruptly she lets go of his hands and grabs onto the fabric on the outside of his thighs, making his breath catch in his throat as the music and her touch combine for a different kind of arousal.
She has to feel it, it's her fault it's there, he can't even be embarrassed as he rocks against her, faltering in his rhythm as the pounding bass leads him to switch focus. She turns and offers a smirk, hooking a finger in his belt loop to pull him across the dance floor while he's too dazed to stop her.
He knows who she is, of course he does. He couldn't live here for a month without hearing her voice on the radio. He starts to say her name in surprise but is halted by her mouth, gets as far as "Ri-" before the same tongue that forms those beautiful words is now stealing his. His back vibrates as he's pushed up against a speaker, feeling the bass even more as it thumps through his entire body.
Her hands are all over him, kissing him fiercely as they continue to move together, rubbing against each other just enough to be teasing. Finally he sinks his fingers into the thin material covering her ass and pulls her close, groaning into her mouth as the pressure accumulates.
Slowly she pulls away, her lips still glossy as she presses a single finger to his panting mouth and slides her other hand down the front of his pants. He arches into her touch, his eyelids falling shut as he becomes even more aroused and starstruck at the same time.
Since he's not looking, he doesn't see her drop to her knees before him, and he's taken completely by surprise when she unfastens his pants and takes him into her mouth. This isn't just any other blow job - it's her and they're here and he chokes on his own breath as he dares his eyes open and sees her looking up at him.
Her nails slide up his chest as she sucks him in and out, and he spares a thought to her level of drunkenness until he sees the matching green bracelet on her wrist. It makes him feel better about it and let go, bracing himself against the back of the speaker as his tension coils.
A different kind of vibration demands his attention, his phone going off in his pocket, and he's determined to ignore it until it's fished out and he looks down to see her holding it out to him, not once wavering in her motions.
It's clear that she wants him to answer it, and all he can do is pray that it's not his mom as he flips it open and manages a "hello."
"Kusano!" a familiar voice yells in a way that seems louder than the booming music. "Where are you?"
Kusano bites his lip to keep from moaning into the phone. "Shige?"
"I can't hear you!" Shige exclaims, follows by a series of high-pitched laughter. "Did you go out on a school night?"
Worse than his mother, Kusano thinks as he tries to form an answer. A hot, wet mouth is squeezing around him and it's difficult to remember his own name right now. "It's- it's early there," he sputters out, the Japanese syllables feeling foreign on his tongue after so long.
"What are you doing?" Shige asks, his voice sounding a little slurred and answering Kusano's unspoken question about why he's still up at four a.m.
Kusano's not sure how to answer that question without traumatizing his friend, but he quickly becomes more concerned with how he's going to end the call before he can't hide it anymore.
"Hold on," he sputters, pointing the phone away as his head falls back and his body shudders in orgasm. A deep groan is torn from his throat and immediately he stares downward, scared that he imagined the whole thing and it really isn't Rihanna between his legs, but her big eyes shine up at him as she slowly licks her lips.
He wants to ask why, mostly why him, but he seems to have lost control of his voice as she stands up and smoothes out her dress. Instead he just gapes at her, speechless as she smiles and points to his phone.
Still catching his breath, he returns the forgotten object to his ear. "Shige?"
A very loud snore answers him. Kusano rolls his eyes and hangs up, returns to his companion - who is nowhere to be found.
"It's easy for a good girl to go bad," her voice echoes in his head, making him look around at the empty faces as he inconspicuously fastens his pants.
He thinks there's some lesson to be learned in her words, but he's still too intoxicated from her mouth to make much sense of them. All he can do is suppose that music isn't the only universal language anymore.