It's a Work of Art
Title: It's a Work of Art
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Nate/Eliot
Summary: Eliot loved Asia and misses it sometimes. Determined to distract him, Nate puts his researching skills to use and surprises him.
Word Count: 1,701
Warnings/Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for ryuutchi 's prompt over at comment_fic ; “Any, Any, nyotaimori” (nantaimori in this case)
Reference: here
The first time Nate visited Eliot in his actual apartment was about four months after they had gotten serious about their relationship, and he was nervous. Excited but understandably nervous. Eliot was a private man. He liked his space, and he didn't invite people into it lightly.
It was dark inside. There were a series of lamps that Eliot turned on, completely bypassing the light switch. When Nate reached for it, the other man hissed at him.
“I don't use those. They're loud and bright. I don't like them.”
Nate pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”
The apartment was...beautiful. There was carpeting all over the place, and he noticed Eliot had left his shoes by the door. He followed suit. They must be in the living room. Wall scrolls from his travels around the world decorated the walls, bookshelves were pushed against every wall, stacked on top of each other and crammed full, two zen gardens were in corners diagonally across from each other. There was no TV.
He smiled to himself. Bemused and a little taken aback at the tranquility in the room. “The woman in Osaka have something to do with this?” Nate asked with a raised eyebrow.
Eliot had a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was wonderful to me. Taught me how to rake an outdoor zen garden, clip the Banzai and even pour tea in a classic ceremony. I was her 'Taikomochi.' It's like a male geisha, but he is renowned for the stories he tells. She said that people liked to listen to me talk. So that's what I did. When we went to parties together, she supervised, and I would perform the early evening entertainment. She was the star. Not me.”
“You were happy with her,” he said a little sadly. Not a question.
Eliot squinted, looking thoughtful. “Not like...not like with you. It was different. I wanted...No. I was in love with her world. See? It was her world that I wanted to be a part of. I loved Osaka. Naomi-san knew that.”
Uncomfortable with the seriousness of the topic, Nate pointed to what looked like a guitar with a really long and thin neck. “What's that?”
“A shamisen. Go get it for me.” Eliot knelt down on the floor. His movements graceful and calm.
When Nate brought it to him, he ran his hands lovingly down the polished wood. “I haven't played in a long time. Don't laugh,” he said with a flash of a smile.
Nate sat down, cross legged in front of him and listened as Eliot strummed a sweet soft tune that ached of loneliness and romance. Of a time so long ago that it hurt to remember.
*
“I just don't know that much about geisha,” Nate admitted to Sophie the next day.
She looked thoughtfully at him. “They're certainly interesting. Works of art in and of themselves. What's got you on this?”
“Eliot.”
Eyes bright with interest, she leaned closer. “What did he tell you, Nate?”
“He was a Taikomochi while he was in Japan.”
She startled a little. “Well, that's interesting. What a man our Eliot is. Did he tell you what Taikomochi means?”
Nate shook his head.
“It's a bit like a geisha, referring to a male obviously and just as focused on transforming the body and its movements into perpetual living art. It's quite amazing to see actually. Did he show you anything?”
“He played his shamisen for me.”
“Well, that sounds quite dirty there.”
*
But it was Sophie who guided him to Mistress Lenore, owner of Club 28 in the red light district and a renowned sex shop there as well. It was kink night on Monday, so he arrived just in time to catch the tale end of a show with Sub Clarence and Master Victor. Victor had secured Clarence to a hobby horse and had just finished paddling his ass raw and fucking him into orgasm twice. When they bowed at the end of the scene, Clarence molded himself to Victor's side. Backstage, he met with them both and was startled to find out that they were life partners. Victor was shy and wore glasses, and Clarence talked forever.
Clarence was a nurse at a nearby hospital, and Victor was a free lancing columnist, who had a penchant for sexual research and advice.
“I want to do something special for him.”
The two men smiled and then Clarence spoke, “Well, any friend of our Sophie is a friend of ours. What does your Eliot like?”
“We've played with scenes before, but I don't think that will do it for him. He used to live in Asia. Do you know any...um...” He blushed. “Do you know anything that will remind him of the culture that we can try together?”
“Trim the Banzai?”
Victor elbowed him in the ribs. “Don't tease. He's worried and wants help.”
Clarence shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Does he have any hobbies? Things he does to relax and unwind?”
“He likes to cook.”
Victor's mouth curved up into a smile. “I think I know just the thing. Do you know how to use chopsticks?”
*
Nate shivered against. It felt like he was covered in ice cubes, and he wasn't sure if he could keep his position.
“Now, don't worry. He won't expect you to stay perfectly still like someone who's spent months training, and you two are lovers, so there's plenty of wiggle room.”
Clarence shook his head at Victor's soft sigh. “He'll probably just like that you're trying so hard. When did you tell him to meet you?”
“He should be here in twenty minutes or so,” Nate said, flicking his eyes up to look at the clock in the dining room.”
The two left him, picking up all evidence that they had been there. The gloves, plastic and ice were gone, and in their place were chopsticks, soy sauce and a plate of wasabi and ginger.
“Are you home?” The door slammed loudly. “There were people coming out of the building. Nate?”
The lights were low, but he could just make out Eliot's face in the shadows. His eyes widened with surprise, but he smiled, too.
“What's this?”
“I thought you were the expert on Asian fetishes.”
“This certainly isn't Kinbaku,” he mused. “I never knew you ate sushi.”
Nate squirmed and smiled. “I don't have to like sushi.”
“Nice chopstick,” he said waggling his eyebrows.
Nate squirmed from his position on the table as Eliot raked his eyes over him. Clarence and Victor had been thorough. He was covered with fish. The scent tickles his nose and made him want to sneeze. California rolls dotted his waist, butterfly shrimp had been spread over his thighs and butter had been streamed down in vertical stripes to the top of his knee caps, sashimi had been placed on each nipple and a few rolls Nate didn't know the names of framed his abdominal muscles. Not that they were really defined, but it did Nate's ego wonders. Several large flowers covered his cock.
Eliot sat down and picked up the pair of chopsticks and the bottle of soy sauce but didn't pick up the well. Instead, he drizzled the sauce in the middle of Nate's chest, so that it pooled near his belly button. He selected a roll of Yellow Tail.
“Hamachi,” he explained before dipping it in the soy and popping the roll into his mouth. “Very good.”
The next roll was Sabe and then Tamago after that. Rolls made with eel were called Unagi and more traditional rolls included Maki and Nigiri.
“Hungry?”
Nate nodded, suddenly very excited by the way Eliot handled himself and was so knowledgeable about something so foreign. Eliot chose a piece of shrimp and dragged it through the butter and fed it to his lover. Nate chewed slowly before swallowing. When the food was gone, Eliot set down the chopsticks and stood up. He bent down and dragged his tongue across the other man's flesh.
“Oh,” he gasped softly, lifting his hands to gently cradle Eliot's head.
Eliot teased his nipples and savored the salty flavor coupled with Nate's taste. Only when he felt pressure against his entrance did Nate startle. He pressed his fingers against the other man's lips, and Nate was startled when he tasted soy.
“You're using soy sauce for lube?”
“You're not really in any position to complain now, are you?”
He groaned and bucked when Eliot penetrated him slowly with two fingers. They scissored inside of him so slowly that the sensations overwhelmed him.
“Please,” he whispered.
Eliot kissed him, adding another finger as he slipped his tongue into Nate's mouth. “Anything,” he promised. “Anything you want.”
The flowers fell to the ground and Eliot slathered himself in soy sauce before seizing Nate and dragging him down the table. He was still fully dressed, his erection poking out of his jeans and angry red against the denim. Lining himself up with Nate, he pushed in carefully keeping the pace slow and even. They fuck slow and easy. Nate's twisted and arching up, the hard wood of the table digging into his back and his orgasm building furiously.
“Come on. Let go.” Eliot gripped him and pumped up and down firmly, until he was bucking into the hot grip and biting his knuckle to keep from screaming.
He came messily across Eliot's chest and whined when Eliot didn't stop thrusting. The hot rush seemed to go on forever until Eliot slowly pulled free.
“Thanks, baby.”
Still trembling, he pulled Eliot in for a rough kiss. They indulged in the pleasure until Eliot tugged him up.
“Shower. You smell like fish.”
“So do you!” he argued, slightly taken aback.
“Well,” he said pulling Nate against him, “let's save some water and go together.”
He couldn't get in the shower fast enough.
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Nate/Eliot
Summary: Eliot loved Asia and misses it sometimes. Determined to distract him, Nate puts his researching skills to use and surprises him.
Word Count: 1,701
Warnings/Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for ryuutchi 's prompt over at comment_fic ; “Any, Any, nyotaimori” (nantaimori in this case)
Reference: here
The first time Nate visited Eliot in his actual apartment was about four months after they had gotten serious about their relationship, and he was nervous. Excited but understandably nervous. Eliot was a private man. He liked his space, and he didn't invite people into it lightly.
It was dark inside. There were a series of lamps that Eliot turned on, completely bypassing the light switch. When Nate reached for it, the other man hissed at him.
“I don't use those. They're loud and bright. I don't like them.”
Nate pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”
The apartment was...beautiful. There was carpeting all over the place, and he noticed Eliot had left his shoes by the door. He followed suit. They must be in the living room. Wall scrolls from his travels around the world decorated the walls, bookshelves were pushed against every wall, stacked on top of each other and crammed full, two zen gardens were in corners diagonally across from each other. There was no TV.
He smiled to himself. Bemused and a little taken aback at the tranquility in the room. “The woman in Osaka have something to do with this?” Nate asked with a raised eyebrow.
Eliot had a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was wonderful to me. Taught me how to rake an outdoor zen garden, clip the Banzai and even pour tea in a classic ceremony. I was her 'Taikomochi.' It's like a male geisha, but he is renowned for the stories he tells. She said that people liked to listen to me talk. So that's what I did. When we went to parties together, she supervised, and I would perform the early evening entertainment. She was the star. Not me.”
“You were happy with her,” he said a little sadly. Not a question.
Eliot squinted, looking thoughtful. “Not like...not like with you. It was different. I wanted...No. I was in love with her world. See? It was her world that I wanted to be a part of. I loved Osaka. Naomi-san knew that.”
Uncomfortable with the seriousness of the topic, Nate pointed to what looked like a guitar with a really long and thin neck. “What's that?”
“A shamisen. Go get it for me.” Eliot knelt down on the floor. His movements graceful and calm.
When Nate brought it to him, he ran his hands lovingly down the polished wood. “I haven't played in a long time. Don't laugh,” he said with a flash of a smile.
Nate sat down, cross legged in front of him and listened as Eliot strummed a sweet soft tune that ached of loneliness and romance. Of a time so long ago that it hurt to remember.
*
“I just don't know that much about geisha,” Nate admitted to Sophie the next day.
She looked thoughtfully at him. “They're certainly interesting. Works of art in and of themselves. What's got you on this?”
“Eliot.”
Eyes bright with interest, she leaned closer. “What did he tell you, Nate?”
“He was a Taikomochi while he was in Japan.”
She startled a little. “Well, that's interesting. What a man our Eliot is. Did he tell you what Taikomochi means?”
Nate shook his head.
“It's a bit like a geisha, referring to a male obviously and just as focused on transforming the body and its movements into perpetual living art. It's quite amazing to see actually. Did he show you anything?”
“He played his shamisen for me.”
“Well, that sounds quite dirty there.”
*
But it was Sophie who guided him to Mistress Lenore, owner of Club 28 in the red light district and a renowned sex shop there as well. It was kink night on Monday, so he arrived just in time to catch the tale end of a show with Sub Clarence and Master Victor. Victor had secured Clarence to a hobby horse and had just finished paddling his ass raw and fucking him into orgasm twice. When they bowed at the end of the scene, Clarence molded himself to Victor's side. Backstage, he met with them both and was startled to find out that they were life partners. Victor was shy and wore glasses, and Clarence talked forever.
Clarence was a nurse at a nearby hospital, and Victor was a free lancing columnist, who had a penchant for sexual research and advice.
“I want to do something special for him.”
The two men smiled and then Clarence spoke, “Well, any friend of our Sophie is a friend of ours. What does your Eliot like?”
“We've played with scenes before, but I don't think that will do it for him. He used to live in Asia. Do you know any...um...” He blushed. “Do you know anything that will remind him of the culture that we can try together?”
“Trim the Banzai?”
Victor elbowed him in the ribs. “Don't tease. He's worried and wants help.”
Clarence shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Does he have any hobbies? Things he does to relax and unwind?”
“He likes to cook.”
Victor's mouth curved up into a smile. “I think I know just the thing. Do you know how to use chopsticks?”
*
Nate shivered against. It felt like he was covered in ice cubes, and he wasn't sure if he could keep his position.
“Now, don't worry. He won't expect you to stay perfectly still like someone who's spent months training, and you two are lovers, so there's plenty of wiggle room.”
Clarence shook his head at Victor's soft sigh. “He'll probably just like that you're trying so hard. When did you tell him to meet you?”
“He should be here in twenty minutes or so,” Nate said, flicking his eyes up to look at the clock in the dining room.”
The two left him, picking up all evidence that they had been there. The gloves, plastic and ice were gone, and in their place were chopsticks, soy sauce and a plate of wasabi and ginger.
“Are you home?” The door slammed loudly. “There were people coming out of the building. Nate?”
The lights were low, but he could just make out Eliot's face in the shadows. His eyes widened with surprise, but he smiled, too.
“What's this?”
“I thought you were the expert on Asian fetishes.”
“This certainly isn't Kinbaku,” he mused. “I never knew you ate sushi.”
Nate squirmed and smiled. “I don't have to like sushi.”
“Nice chopstick,” he said waggling his eyebrows.
Nate squirmed from his position on the table as Eliot raked his eyes over him. Clarence and Victor had been thorough. He was covered with fish. The scent tickles his nose and made him want to sneeze. California rolls dotted his waist, butterfly shrimp had been spread over his thighs and butter had been streamed down in vertical stripes to the top of his knee caps, sashimi had been placed on each nipple and a few rolls Nate didn't know the names of framed his abdominal muscles. Not that they were really defined, but it did Nate's ego wonders. Several large flowers covered his cock.
Eliot sat down and picked up the pair of chopsticks and the bottle of soy sauce but didn't pick up the well. Instead, he drizzled the sauce in the middle of Nate's chest, so that it pooled near his belly button. He selected a roll of Yellow Tail.
“Hamachi,” he explained before dipping it in the soy and popping the roll into his mouth. “Very good.”
The next roll was Sabe and then Tamago after that. Rolls made with eel were called Unagi and more traditional rolls included Maki and Nigiri.
“Hungry?”
Nate nodded, suddenly very excited by the way Eliot handled himself and was so knowledgeable about something so foreign. Eliot chose a piece of shrimp and dragged it through the butter and fed it to his lover. Nate chewed slowly before swallowing. When the food was gone, Eliot set down the chopsticks and stood up. He bent down and dragged his tongue across the other man's flesh.
“Oh,” he gasped softly, lifting his hands to gently cradle Eliot's head.
Eliot teased his nipples and savored the salty flavor coupled with Nate's taste. Only when he felt pressure against his entrance did Nate startle. He pressed his fingers against the other man's lips, and Nate was startled when he tasted soy.
“You're using soy sauce for lube?”
“You're not really in any position to complain now, are you?”
He groaned and bucked when Eliot penetrated him slowly with two fingers. They scissored inside of him so slowly that the sensations overwhelmed him.
“Please,” he whispered.
Eliot kissed him, adding another finger as he slipped his tongue into Nate's mouth. “Anything,” he promised. “Anything you want.”
The flowers fell to the ground and Eliot slathered himself in soy sauce before seizing Nate and dragging him down the table. He was still fully dressed, his erection poking out of his jeans and angry red against the denim. Lining himself up with Nate, he pushed in carefully keeping the pace slow and even. They fuck slow and easy. Nate's twisted and arching up, the hard wood of the table digging into his back and his orgasm building furiously.
“Come on. Let go.” Eliot gripped him and pumped up and down firmly, until he was bucking into the hot grip and biting his knuckle to keep from screaming.
He came messily across Eliot's chest and whined when Eliot didn't stop thrusting. The hot rush seemed to go on forever until Eliot slowly pulled free.
“Thanks, baby.”
Still trembling, he pulled Eliot in for a rough kiss. They indulged in the pleasure until Eliot tugged him up.
“Shower. You smell like fish.”
“So do you!” he argued, slightly taken aback.
“Well,” he said pulling Nate against him, “let's save some water and go together.”
He couldn't get in the shower fast enough.