Gift fic for arashijun! (1 of 2)

[fic2mod]

Gift fic for arashijun!

Title: Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall
Pairings/Members: Yokoo/Fujigaya, Kitayama/Senga
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Genderswitch, het, slash
Summary: When Fujigaya falls through a mirror into a parallel world, he finds that no matter how much things change, the important things are all the same. Or almost.
Notes: For arashijun. This got longer than expected, I hope you enjoy it all!

Fujigaya looked into the mirror and sighed. Yet another drama role, yet another drama haircut, much shorter than he would have preferred. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been allowed to have long hair.

“It's not that I regret anything,” he told his reflection, only a few centimetres in front of his nose. For his career, he had given up a lot more than his hair, as had the others, but the perpetually short hair bothered him in an irrational way few things that weren't Kitayama Hiromitsu did. He was alone in the practice room for the moment, the others still on break. “I just wish I could let my hair grow past my ears without interference for once.” Impulsively, he closed the small distance between his mouth and the mirror, touching his lips to the glass.

The next moment he found himself falling, the whole world pink and swirling around him. There was a curious ringing noise in his ears, like a doorbell but not, like air chimes in a summer evening, tiny bells pealing behind his eyes as he fell through the swirling colours.

“Tai-chan! What have you done to your hair?”

The question startled him out of whatever dream he'd slipped into. Fujigaya straightened, but didn't turn around, didn't open his eyes.. “I didn't have a choice, Watta,” he replied, trying to keep the sulk out of his voice. His boyfriend was blunt by nature and he didn't want a fight with Yokoo today.

He heard Yokoo step closer, felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What happened to your voice? Takara, did you catch a cold?”

At the unfamiliar name he turned around and froze. The woman in front of him shared a face with Yokoo, her features not much softer but decidedly feminine, pretty in all the ways Fujigaya liked. Which only made sense, Fujigaya thought, since Yokoo was everything he liked.

~~~

Fujigaya looked at Kitayama's bored face, then Yokoo's worried one. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You're telling me the whole company is a sausage fest?”

She ignored Nikaido and Senga snickering behind her; those two never had any sensible answers - she didn't expect them to be any smarter in this world. They were actually less likely to have any answers, being boys.

“I watched an anime like that once,” Miyata offered. He was the same as always, including the way he stood closer than necessary to Tamamori. “A guy made a wish in front of a magic mirror and fell through it into a world where all his friends were girls.”

“Well, you are not girls,” Fujigaya replied, irritably. Though if her other-world counterpart was the “hero”, that meant he had to make the annoying choices and overcome the difficulties to get them both home. If she knew her luck (and his probably wasn't much different), those difficulties would involve Kitayama in all his annoying, infuriating glory. “I wished I could cut my hair short and that's exactly what I'm going to do now,” she announced. “If the wish had anything to do with it, that might be enough to bring me home.”

Kitayama made a disbelieving noise, but she ignored him. Yokoo followed her out of the practice room, his long legs allowing him to keep up with her easily. “I can drive you,” Yokoo offered.

“Thanks, Watta.” The words came naturally, and she didn't correct herself. She might not have known him, but she knew his counterpart quite well and the nickname seemed to be one of the things to have carried over.

Later, in the car, after having made an appointment with her favourite hairdresser (whose number was saved in other-Fujigaya's phone, proving yet again how much they had in common), she asked, “So, you and my other self?”

“Yes,” Yokoo replied, simply.

Fujigaya nodded. His reaction at her discovery and subsequent behaviour towards herself had been obvious enough that she'd had no doubt about it. “Me and Watta too. She's a girl, by the way.”

“I gathered as much,” Yokoo replied, sounding amused.

~~~

Fujigaya washed his hands, thinking that it was decidedly weird to have boys' and girls' bathrooms in the jimusho - one of the few things that were obviously different about this world. His group had two dressing rooms too, though they did share a break room. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted - all those explanations and speculations had been seriously draining. At least it was late enough that scheduled dance practice time was over. They usually stayed longer, practising on their own, but under the circumstances they had all agreed to go home on time for once.

He went back to kisumai's dressing rooms. While he didn't really want to talk to anyone, he needed to get his things and go home to sleep. Perhaps Yokoo could tell him where to find the apartment she'd mentioned - evidently his other self had been more decisive about moving out. He opened the door and stopped short. There, on the couch, were Kitayama and Senga, Senga sitting in Kitayama's lap.

Fujigaya had known that some of his bandmates were female in this world, but on some level he hadn't really believed it - they'd cross-dressed often enough that faces and hair and hell, even shapes hidden by clothes were evidence but not proof. But here there was no doubt, Senga's breasts, and they were large Fujigaya noted without really wanting to, were clearly visible. Senga's shirt had been pushed up, Kitayama's face covering her left breast, but the right was visible to all the world, or at least to anyone who walked in without knocking. She wasn't wearing a bra, or perhaps it had been pushed up far enough that Fujigaya couldn't see it. Her shirt was up high enough that he could see the lower half of her breast, her nipple and everything above it still covered.

Senga giggled. “Gaya! Hi!” Then she flushed, perhaps realizing that Fujigaya was not the Fujigaya she knew and male to boot.

“Sorry!” Fujigaya retreated quickly, almost slamming the door shut in his haste.

“Did those two forget to lock the door again?” Yokoo asked, coming up behind him.

“That happens often?” Fujigaya asked, still trying to process the fact that Senga really was a girl. He turned his head to see Yokoo smiling at him, her face more amused than exasperated. All at once, he realized that she wasn't the Yokoo he knew and loved - wasn't, and yet was, in a strange way. There was an ache in his chest - he missed Yokoo, his Yokoo, but at the same time he found himself strangely drawn to this female version of his boyfriend.

“More often than you'd think,” Yokoo replied. There was understanding in her voice and Fujigaya wondered how much of his inner turmoil showed on his face, or perhaps she could read him as well as her male counterpart could. “Come on, I'll show you the way. Tai-chan's apartment is a bit hard to find on your own. I've got your bag and coat.”

~~~

Fujigaya shook her head, enjoying the lightness of it. She hadn't realized quite how much all that hair had weighed her down until she'd cut it all off. Her bangs were falling into her eyes and she pushed them back, behind her ear. “Well?” she asked. Yokoo had picked her up after her hairdresser's appointment and hadn't yet said anything about her new haircut.

Yokoo kept his eyes on the street. “It suits you,” he said. She raised an eyebrow and he continued, “You are gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” she replied, pleased by the compliment.

“Have you decided where to go yet?” Yokoo asked, ever practical.

Fujigaya shook her head - she had moved into her own place a year ago, but this world's Fujigaya still lived with his parents. Staying there was out of the question.

“You can come home with me,” Yokoo offered. “I'll sleep on the couch.”

She accepted gratefully, but unless he wasn't into girls, she had no intention of letting him sleep on the couch.

~~~

Senga flopped down on Kitayama's bed, burying her face in the pillow. Practice had run late because of Fujigaya's... little accident. If you could call falling through a mirror into an alternate world an accident. If that's even what happened. Senga rolled over onto her back and looked at her boyfriend. “Do you think Miyacchi's theory is right?”

“Sure,” Kitayama replied, not really listening.

“I mean, Taipi was definitely a man today, but if that mirror did things like that more often, we would have heard about it before.”

“Gaya's always trouble,” Kitayama grumbled. “Bet she got herself sucked into another world just to make sure everyone's talking about her.” Finally naked, he asked, “You want to shower first?”

Senga shook her head. “If I go first, you'll fall asleep waiting.” She was strong enough to carry him to the shower if necessary, but Kitayama was grumpy when woken up and if they showered together, nothing productive would get done. She watched Kitayama's naked ass walk out of the room, appreciating the view.

She yawned and stretched - it had really been a long day. She probably shouldn't be lying in Kitayama's clean bed, sweaty as she was, but it was just so comfortable and smelled vaguely of Kitayama. Senga turned her head to sniff the pillow, then giggled at her actions. She could hear the shower, the sound of water penetrating the thin walls of Kitayama's apartment easily. Her thoughts drifted to Kitayama, naked and wet in the shower, washing the sweat off his body with the melon soap she'd given him for Valentine's day.

Heat flooded her body as she remembered the feel of Kitayama under her fingers, hard muscles and smooth skin. Perhaps she should have joined him in the shower after all. She could still join him, surprise him. Kitayama certainly wouldn't mind. Thinking about it, she trailed a hand up under her shirt, teasing at the lower edge of her bra. Her other hand went down and unzipped her jeans.

Once they were unzipped, her jeans were loose enough that she could fit a hand in her underwear, slipping two fingers between her legs right away. She was wet already, slick and swollen just from the thought of Kitayama naked in the shower. She should probably take her panties off - they were getting soaked already - but instead she just plunged her fingers in deeper.

The fingers of her other hand had worked their way up under the band of her bra. Senga pushed her bra up, out of the way, and began to lightly knead one of her breasts, shielded from view by her shirt. With her eyes closed, it was easy to imagine it was Kitayama touching her, her boyfriend's touch almost as familiar as her own. She didn't bother pinching her nipple - they were not particularly sensitive, not compared to some others' anyway. She knew from fanservice and play wrestling that Nikaido had highly sensitive nipples that hardened at the lightest touch, the accidental arousal often making Nikaido cranky.

“Couldn't wait for me?” Kitayama's voice intruded on her thoughts. When Senga's eyes snapped open, they met Kitayama's heated stare. Senga flushed, happiness and arousal coursing through her - even when she was half-naked in his bed and touching herself, Kitayama's first look was at her face.

“Just warming up,” she replied, picking up where she'd left off. Her touch felt so much better now that her boyfriend was watching, his eyes devouring her as if she were a feast laid out for him. Senga let her eyes wander over Kitayama's body in return, nothing blocking her view since he had elected not to put on any clothes or even put a towel around his hips. There was a towel over his shoulders, catching the drips of water falling from the tips of his still-wet hair, but occasionally an adventurous drop of water escaped, rolling down Kitayama's muscular torso in a leisurely manner.

She closed her eyes again, concentrated on working her fingers inside herself. The bed dipped down and she grinned. Just as expected, a moment later Kitayama's lips touched hers, a gentle kiss, full of liking. Senga sighed into the kiss, then pulled her hand out from under her shirt to grab at Kitayama. She tried to pull him down onto her, but he braced himself and stayed where he was. “Leader...” she pouted, looking cute.

“Don't call me leader,” Kitayama muttered as he moved down to kiss her stomach. He slowly kissed and licked his way upwards, nosing at her ribs. He pushed her shirt up to her armpits. One of her breasts was still half covered by her bra, the other wholly exposed. He pushed her bra the rest of the way up, then nuzzled the skin between her breasts. Senga still had one hand down her pants, fingering herself, but she pulled her hand free now.

With a hand on each breast, she pushed them together, squishing Kitayama's face in the middle. “Got you!” she giggled.

Kitayama's face appeared, red and spluttering. “You...” he laughed. “Oh, you'll get it.” He kissed her again, more forcefully. Senga opened her mouth easily, their tongues meeting in the middle in a slick dance. She tried to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but got a handful of towel instead. Laughing into the kiss, she flung the towel away and wrapped her arms around Kitayama, finally pulling him down.

His body settled on top of her, a comfortable weight. Senga let her hands trail up and down over his back and shoulders, mapping the muscles with her fingertips. She couldn't comfortably reach his ass in this position, but resolved to give it a good squeeze later. Kitayama was nuzzling her neck, but her shirt, which he'd pushed up as far as it would go, was getting in his way, so he moved on faster than usual. He kissed one of her breasts, sucked the nipple into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue, at the same time kneading her other breast gently.

He couldn't fit her whole breast into his hand - his hands were too small for that - but he didn't let that stop him. Senga moaned happily, enjoying her boyfriend's caresses. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, not quite pushing him downwards yet but strongly hinting.

Kitayama nosed at her stomach. “What's got you so desperate? Don't tell me it's my ass.”

“It's cause we didn't get anywhere fun earlier,” Senga replied, referring to the make-out session Fujigaya had interrupted that afternoon. She thought for a moment. “Speaking of your ass... Taipi, I mean guy Taipi, said that the Senga in his world is a guy... I wonder if he's with the other Kitamitsu too.” She giggled. “I bet he pounds Kitamitsu's ass so hard.”

Kitayama tugged on her bellybutton piercing with his teeth, making her groan. “Probably. I know if I had a boyfriend, I'd let him do all the work.” He tugged on her piercing again. It wasn't like being with a girl kept him from being lazy either - Senga rode him most days. “Maybe I'm a girl over there.”

“Oh.” Senga hadn't even considered that possibility. “I'll ask Taipi later.” She shoved at Kitayama's shoulder, wanting him to get to the good part soon.

“Lift your hips.” Senga did, and Kitayama tugged her jeans down, then threw them on the floor carelessly. He kissed her calf, her knee, her thigh, spreading her legs further in the progress. He licked at her through her underwear, a teasing touch. He tugged her underwear to the side, just far enough to slip a finger underneath it and inside her. She moaned, already really sensitive, and Kitayama grinned. “So desperate for me.”

“Mitsu,” Senga moaned, “leader...”

“Don't call me that,” Kitayama muttered. He wasn't leader, and it was seriously weird to be called that in bed by his girlfriend. He pulled his finger out and removed her underwear, dropping it on the floor on top of her jeans. Now with unhindered access, he pushed two fingers in and licked at her again.

She moaned happily, without the fabric of her panties in the way his tongue felt so good, and his fingers, pushing in and out of her slowly, felt better with every moment. “Fuck me,” she demanded, “leader, fuck me.”

Kitayama flicked his tongue against her one last time. Arguing just wasn't worth it after a certain point. He held his hand out. Senga laughed at his laziness, then leaned over to the dresser to get a condom out, handing the foil packet over to Kitayama, who ripped it open and rolled it on quickly.

“Who's desperate now?” she asked, raising her hips to meet him. He slid into her easily, all the way in one smooth thrust. “Oh,” she moaned, “oh yeah.” She'd wanted him for hours, to finally have him inside her was so good, she just wanted more, more. Kitayama pulled back, almost completely out, then pushed back in, but slowly, so slowly. Senga dug her fingers into his shoulders, pushed her hips up against him - it felt good, so good, but the slow pace was driving her crazy. She needed more and she needed it now.

Despite her best efforts, Kitayama kept his movements slow, his thrusts deep and long but agonizingly, tantalizingly slow. “What's the rush?” he asked, grinning down at her and for a moment Senga knew exactly why Fujigaya found him infuriating. Deciding quickly, she rolled them over. Now in a position to go as fast as she wanted, she did just that, riding his dick as quickly as her legs would allow. Kitayama grinned up at her, even more smug than before - he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

Senga pulled her shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra to add it to the stack of her clothes piling up on the floor. She rolled her hips, feeling him shift inside her. Riding Kitayama's dick was easy; she'd practiced this move a lot and could go on forever, or nearly. Between her accent dance on stage and riding her boyfriend nearly every day, her legs didn't tire easily. His hands were on her thighs, not to help her move, but simply because he enjoyed touching her.

She braced herself on his chest with her hands, changing the angle. It had the added advantage of letting her look down at him more easily, always an appealing sight. The ends of his hair were still wet, giving it a surprisingly fluffy appearance. “You're so cute, leader,” Senga said, snickering when Kitayama's eyes narrowed. He deserved it for being a lazy ass.

“Move it,” Kitayama said, snapping his hips up just once, “Don't fall asleep up there.”

“You're one to talk,” Senga giggled, but she did pick the pace up, moving up and down on Kitayama's erection with speed. There were few things she liked more than having Kitayama hot and hard inside her. The only thing that could even compare for pure enjoyment was dancing on stage with her whole group, getting cheered by thousands of fans.

She leaned down to kiss him, a sloppy kiss, wet and full of tongue. She couldn't move as easily at this angle, so she sat up again and squeezed tight. Kitayama moaned. “Kae-chan,” he murmured, “Kaede...”

Senga rolled her hips, started the regular up-down, up-down movement again. She raised her arms above her head, arching her back, well aware that Kitayama was following every one of her movements with greedy eyes. She trailed her fingers down, over her face, her neck, her chest and stomach. One hand went to cover Kitayama's hand on her thigh, the other went between her legs. She gasped at the first touch of her fingers, then moaned, sweet and low, Kitayama echoing the sound. She rubbed the sensitive little nub, lightly at first, going harder as she went on.

“You look so good like this.” Kitayama's eyes kept flicking from Senga's face to between her legs and back up.

“Keep talking?” Senga asked. She liked his voice, especially when it was dark with want like this. She was riding his dick pretty hard at this point, bouncing up and down with abandon, at the same time rubbing herself with two fingers. So Kitayama talked, about anything he could think of - how good she looked with her face all flushed, how cute the little gasps interspersed with her moans were, how tight she squeezed around him and how hot his dick vanishing into her looked.

Senga gasped suddenly and rubbed herself faster, almost hectic in her desire to get off. She threw her head back, moaning wordlessly, goosebumps running down her back as she shivered. She clenched tight around Kitayama, who helped out by thrusting up into her, pushing through the tightness. “Oh,” she moaned, “oh!” Her orgasm seemed to go on forever, shivers twitching her limbs. She finally slumped forwards, bracing herself on Kitayama's chest as she gasped for breath.

Waiting patiently for her to recover, Kitayama reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes. Senga grinned down at him. “I love your dick,” she said, still panting for breath.

“Thanks,” Kitayama replied, “I'm quite fond of it myself.”

Laughing, Senga leaned down to kiss him, their mouths fitting together easily. While she was in easy reach, Kitayama used the opportunity to touch her, to stroke her cheek, run his fingers over her flat stomach, play with her breasts. When she sat up again, his hands went back to her thighs. She rolled her hips in slow, teasing waves, feeling Kitayama brush against her inner walls in turn.

Slowly, she began to ride him again, rising up until only the head of Kitayama's dick remained in her, then sinking down until his whole length was buried inside. After her orgasm, she didn't feel as impatient anymore, so she had quite a bit of fun teasing him with the slow pace. She knew she'd won when he growled her name and thrust up into her. “Touch me and I'll go faster,” she offered.

Kitayama squeezed her thigh, then moved his hand up between her legs. At the first touch of his fingers, she moaned. “Mh, yeah, Mitsu.” He knew how to please her, knew exactly how she liked to be touched. He rubbed her sensitive cluster of nerves, lightly at first, using more pressure when she moaned happily. As promised, she picked the pace up, riding his dick faster. She lifted herself up as quickly as she could, sank down with speed, moaning all the while. Kitayama's moans joined hers, a deeper counterpoint.

Senga squeezed tight, drawing a strangled groan from Kitayama. “You going to come before me?” she asked, teasing.

“Not in this lifetime,” he replied, gritting his teeth. He rubbed her faster, thrusting up into her at the same time. He didn't have to hold out for long; it was always easier to get her off a second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. She gasped in surprise as her second orgasm rolled over her. Eyes squeezed shut, Senga moaned wordlessly as pleasure soared through her.

She finally had to shove his hand away as she was getting sore, over-stimulated. “Your turn,” she gasped. Occasional shivers, aftershocks, still twitched through her body, but that didn't stop her. She rode him hard and fast, clenching rhythmically, and it was only a minute or two later that Kitayama gave in, thrusting up roughly and spilling himself with a gasp of her name.

He grabbed at her right away, drew her down for a kiss even though he didn't have the coordination to kiss her properly just yet. Senga giggled into the kiss, not at all bothered - she found it cute when Kitayama was like this. She didn't mind when he fell asleep a few moments later either, she needed to shower anyway.

~~~

“Your apartment is the same as Watta's,” Fujigaya said, looking around as she took her shoes off. “She only found it by accident when she was looking at the one three doors down. I didn't think the same coincidence could have happened here too.”

“Why not?” Yokoo replied, already on his way to the kitchen. “All the important things seem to be the same, I don't see why apartments should be an exception.”

Fujigaya put her shoes orderly side by side; there was no reason to annoy Yokoo after all. She followed his voice to the kitchen, where Yokoo was already washing some rice. She sat down in her favourite chair to watch him and the way Yokoo smiled at her action told her that her counterpart likely preferred this chair as well. Yokoo puttered around, preparing food and offering her bits and pieces to taste while she talked.

They ate in front of the TV, curled up together on Yokoo's couch, sharing a blanket. The food he had prepared was every bit as tasty as what she was used to from her girlfriend. Yokoo kept eating long after she'd put her empty bowl back on the table - he could easily eat for three. Fujigaya didn't pay much attention to the show playing on the TV, the man next to her much more fascinating than explosions and school uniforms, though school uniforms in a kinky context might have been interesting.

When Yokoo finally set his bowl down, sated at last, she climbed into his lap without preamble, straddling his hips. As she leaned in to kiss him, he looked more amused than surprised. He wrapped his arms around her, all the confirmation she needed, and met her kiss right on. Her lips brushed against his, a soft kiss, but not at all tentative.

She kept the kiss light and teasing, at the same time exploring his upper body with her fingers. His shoulders were surprisingly wide, which she quite liked. Just like her Yokoo, he was much too thin, his bones protruding alarmingly. He was touching her in return, one of his hands had landed flat on her ass and he seemed to have no intention of moving it any time soon. His other hand went up the back of her shirt, caressing her spine.

With two fingers, Yokoo unhooked her bra. “Wow,” Fujigaya said, impressed. Caressing his cheek with a finger, she asked, “Do you have any more secret skills?”

Yokoo grinned, flashing his fangs. “I'll be glad to show you.” He pulled her shirt over her head and began to fold it, but her pointed “ahem!” stopped him. “Sorry, habit,” he apologized. He didn't finish folding the shirt, but he did put it on a side-table, safely out of the way, before turning back to her.

With two fingers, he took a hold of one of her bra straps and slowly slid it down, caressing her arm the whole way, raising goose flesh in his wake. He did the same thing on the other side, then put her bra away on top of her shirt. Never one to wait, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. She flicked one of his nipples with a fingertip, then trailed her fingers over his ribs. He was so thin, even thinner than her Yokoo.

Leaning down, Fujigaya kissed him again. She licked at his lips, eager for more. He distracted her by cupping one of her breasts in his hand, kneading it lightly, then when she gasped in surprise, Yokoo used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue, making her moan.

Getting impatient, Fujigaya reached down and groped Yokoo through his pants, squeezing his already hard cock. “I want you, Watta,” she murmured against his lips. She jumped up, quickly got rid of the rest of her clothes and helped to undress Yokoo as well. Then she sunk down to her knees, pushing Yokoo's legs apart in the progress. She nuzzled his cock, rubbing her face against it. It felt so nice, so smooth against her skin. She grinned and licked playfully at the tip, eliciting a groan of her name from Yokoo.

“It's been entirely too long since I last got some dick,” she said, more to herself than to him. She didn't give him any chance to reply as she sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth eagerly. She moaned around it, caressing it with her tongue, then quickly bobbed her head, taking it in deeper. She loved the feel of a hot, hard cock in her mouth, against her tongue and she loved Yokoo's moans just as much, loved all the signs of his enjoyment.

Yokoo brushed her bangs out of her eyes, looked down at her with such adoring eyes that Fujigaya flushed. “Takara,” he said. Of course he remembered her name after only hearing it once. Stroking his thumb over her cheek, he continued, “You're beautiful.”

She wanted him, wanted him inside now. Fujigaya let Yokoo's dick slip out of her mouth and climbed back into his lap. Kissing him breathlessly, she asked against his lips, “Condoms?”

He dug around behind the cushions for a few moments, finally emerging with a tube and some foil wrappers. He dropped the tube back behind the cushions - he wouldn't need that with her, since women made their own lubricant. Fujigaya plucked one of the foil wrappers out of his hand, ripped it open impatiently, and rolled the condom quickly down over his dick.

Without hesitation, she sank down onto his dick, taking him in all in one go. “Oh!” she moaned, “Oh, yes.” He felt so good, so right, as if he was made for her. She rolled her hips, enjoyed feeling him shift inside her. She hadn't quite realized how much she'd missed riding a nice, hard cock. Of course she loved Yokoo, her Yokoo (though she liked this one quite a bit too) and was happy with her, but for now she was more than prepared to enjoy this unforeseen opportunity.

Squeezing tight around Yokoo, she asked, “Ready?”

“You wouldn't believe how ready,” Yokoo replied. His voice was calm but his hands on her hips shook ever so slightly.

Fujigaya placed her hands on Yokoo's shoulders for balance, then rose up slowly until only the head of his dick was inside her, at which point she sunk down again, taking it in deep. She hadn't done this for a few years, hadn't done this move on stage either, but her legs were still fairly strong. She rocked up and down on Yokoo's dick enthusiastically, and after a bit Yokoo helped out by thrusting up into her. She gasped at each and every thrust, moaning constantly.

One of Yokoo's hands was suddenly between her legs. Fujigaya's eyes rolled back into her head as pleasure washed through her, overwhelming her. Her hands clenched where she was holding onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she came and came, squeezing tight around his dick.

“That was easy,” Yokoo commented.

Fujigaya dragged her eyes open to look at him, but her eyes refused to focus. Instead she leaned in and kissed him, a sloppy kiss because she was still twitching with occasional aftershocks. “I love your hands,” she said once her tongue cooperated again. “Such amazing fingers.”

She rolled her hips, feeling him shift inside her and they both moaned. She kept it up for a while, just to see if she could make him beg. Yokoo showed no inclination to beg - instead he let his hands wander, caressing her body. He trailed teasing fingers up her back, along her spine and at the same time kissed her breasts. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, flicked his tongue against it.

~~~

When Senga came back after her shower, towelling her hair dry, she was greeted with the sight of Kitayama's naked ass. He must have rolled over in his sleep and was now lying facedown, one arm stuffed half under his pillow. Giggling, she slapped his ass with her palm. He muttered something but didn't wake up. She slapped his ass again, harder this time, leaving a bright red mark. “Mpff!” Kitayama muttered, but didn't move otherwise. A moment later he started to snore again.

Her fingers tightened on the wet towel and she grinned. Before she could lose her courage, she snapped the towel down onto Kitayama's naked ass. The reaction was instantaneous. Kitayama reared up, suddenly wide awake, and grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the bed.

She found herself looking up at him, his full weight on top of her. He crushed his lips against hers, a bruising kiss. Senga wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on - in her opinion, there was nothing hotter than an angry Kitayama. Most importantly, waking him up suddenly not only made him angry, it was pretty much the only way to get him to take charge and fuck her into the mattress.

Senga moaned happily. His tongue was in her mouth and she could already feel him hardening against her leg. She dug her nails into his shoulders, hard enough for him to feel it, then moved her hips up against him as much as she could with his weight pinning her down.

Breaking the kiss, Kitayama glared down at her. “You woke me up.”

“I did.” Senga grinned up at him, not at all penitent. Waking leader up was dangerous and she loved it.

“I'm going to fuck you so hard,” Kitayama announced, reaching over to get a condom out of the drawer.

“Please do.”

He snorted at her answer, clearly used to insolent kouhai ignoring his need for sleep. He rolled the condom down over his dick, pushed her legs apart and shoved into her. Senga gasped, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Kitayama fucked her with short, sharp thrusts, using all the strength of his soccer-trained legs to give her what she wanted.

Senga reached down to touch herself, but Kitayama grasped her wrist. “Not this time.” He pulled out. “Turn over.” She rolled over, raising her hips and bracing herself on her arms, and he slid into her again, the angle different enough to make her cry out. He took a firm hold of her hips, pulled her into his thrusts as he fucked her from behind. She pushed back against his hips, meeting his rhythm, the bed shaking with their joined effort.

He draped himself over her back, nuzzled her shoulder, and licked at her neck. He grabbed one of her breasts, squeezed it a bit harder than he usually did. “Mitsu,” she moaned, “Please.” Kitayama's panting breath against her ear was the only answer as he made no move to touch her and the pace was too fast for her to touch herself without falling on her face. “Mitsu,” she begged again.

“Come like this, if you can,” he replied. She was able to come just from getting fucked, sometimes. “Or wait until I'm done. That's what you get for waking me.”

Senga laughed, breathless. Squeezing tight, she shoved back against him harder, trying to get off. Of course, if he came before her, she could always sit on his face. Kitayama was good with his tongue, though he was usually too lazy to get her off like that unless she asked him for it. Just the thought got her all hot, a hot flash of desire shooting through her. It joined with the pleasure from Kitayama's dick hot and hard inside her, thrusting. With a gasp of his name she came, seeing stars and squeezing tight enough to make Kitayama groan.

She collapsed on her face, aftershocks twitching through her for several minutes more while Kitayama continued to fuck her, his thrusts losing their rhythm before long. He finally came as well, thrusting into her with a few last, rough thrusts. Spent, Kitayama collapsed on top of her, squishing the breath out of her. “Got enough? Can I sleep now?” he asked around a yawn and rolled off her.

“Mh.” Senga rolled over and stretched, considering it. She trailed her hand down his chest teasingly, but he grabbed her wrist to keep her from going lower.

“I'm tired,” Kitayama said plaintively, and he was, she could see that. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. His nose was scrunched cutely and his voice was starting to sound whiny.

Senga curled up close, resting her head on his shoulder. “Night,” she whispered. “I love you.” Only a snore answered her, but she didn't mind. He'd told her he loved her often enough.

~~~

Senga sighed. He'd been lying in the dark of his bedroom for what felt like ages but was unable to fall asleep. Just like most nights, his mind drifted - images of Kitayama, bending over; Kitayama, fresh out of the shower with only a towel around his hips; Kitayama, laughing so that his face scrunched up and his nose crinkled; Kitayama, asleep and looking oh so cute.

After months of doing this, Senga didn't even feel ashamed anymore as he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked, imagining it was Kitayama's hand touching him. Senga's fantasy continued, conjuring up memories of Kitayama eating, his lips wrapped around various pieces of food, his nose scrunched in pleasure. It was easy to imagine Kitayama with his plush lips around Senga's cock, sucking him off with all the skill he must surely have. Senga even had an idea of what Kitayama would sound like as he often moaned happily when presented with particularly tasty food.

Senga rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock on the upstroke, imagining Kitayama's little pink tongue in its place, caressing him, teasing him. His hips snapped up on their own volition, and his mind quickly supplied a fitting image - his hands in Kitayama's hair, holding his head still, his hips snapping forward, fucking Kitayama's mouth. Would Kitayama moan for more? Or look smug at having to do none of the work?

His thoughts drifted again, to Kitayama's strong arms, his abs, his ass. Especially his ass. One time, fresh out of the shower, Kitayama had bent over and Senga had gotten a good look at his hole. That was the only time he'd seen it, but that one glimpse had stuck in his mind. Too many of his fantasies involved licking Kitayama's hole, sticking his fingers into it, fucking it.

He thought about Kitayama on his hands and knees, with his legs spread, waiting for him, Kitayama's hole ready to receive him. Senga stroked himself faster and moaned desperately. Kitayama would be so tight, so hot, squeezing around him, taking him in.

Senga tightened his grip on his cock, jerked himself off roughly. Moaning Kitayama's name, he finally came over his own hand. He panted for breath, slowly coming down from the high of his orgasm. Fantasizing about Kitayama was becoming less and less fulfilling. Senga sighed. Perhaps he really should take a chance and confess, before he drove himself crazy with his not-so-little crush.

~~~

Looking around, Fujigaya was pleasantly surprised. The apartment this other Fujigaya lived in was small but neatly arranged and he could definitely see Yokoo's touch. “You helped her set this up so nicely, didn't you?” he asked Yokoo. She had locked the door behind them and was now straightening up the shoes. Some things never changed.

“Yes. Takara might have covered everything in leoprint if I hadn't intervened.” Yokoo led the way to the kitchen and Fujigaya followed. After a few minutes of her puttering around he realized belatedly that he should probably help - he was so used to Yokoo taking care of him that he hadn't even considered she might expect differently from him. “No, sit down,” Yokoo told him, laughing when he opened a cabinet at random and found the mostly empty dishwasher, “you'd only get in the way.”

Watching Yokoo prepare food briskly and efficiently was reassuringly familiar. They had spent many an evening eating Yokoo's tasty food, watching TV and making love. From the look of things, the other pair had done the same. Fujigaya's thoughts drifted, lulled into a peaceful state by tasty food and good company. Before he knew it, it was already midnight. “Are you staying?” he asked, only belatedly realizing that he'd just asked a woman, whom he'd technically known for only a few hours, to stay the night.

Lucky for him, Yokoo laughed before he could apologize. “You know Tai-chan is almost certainly riding your boyfriend right now, unless they finished and are taking a short break,” she said. “She hasn't gotten any dick since we started dating exclusively.”

“And you're okay with that?”

Yokoo shrugged her shoulders. “He's me, in most ways. I don't see it as cheating if she takes the opportunity.” She grinned at Fujigaya, flashing her fang tooth. “You aren't going to be a prude about this, are you, Tai-chan?”

In answer, he leaned close and kissed her. Yokoo pressed closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, her tongue moving slick against his. He wrapped his arms around her middle, held her close. As the kiss progressed, he moved his left hand down, stroking her thigh, while his right hand wandered up under her blouse, trailing over her flat stomach. “Lets go to bed,” he suggested.

Flashing her fangs again, Yokoo agreed and led the way to Fujigaya's bedroom. Once there, Fujigaya pushed her down onto the bed and straddled her hips. He rolled his hips down against her, then blinked, surprised. Yokoo grinned again. “You forgot?”

“A momentary lapse.” He had indeed forgotten for just a moment that she was not his Yokoo, that she didn't have a dick for him to ride. Still, he was sure he could handle this. Girls weren't that complicated. Yokoo, yeah, Yokoo was complicated, but he knew how to handle him, so it stood to reason he could deal with her as well.

He leaned down to kiss her, sucking her tongue into his mouth. While they kissed, her hands began to wander, under his shirt, up his back, and down to squeeze him through his jeans. He gasped against her lips - her long fingers felt good against his dick, even through the material of his jeans. She quickly unzipped his jeans and shoved them down for enough to free his cock. Yokoo wrapped her hand around his dick as soon as it sprang free, coiling her long fingers around his shaft.

Not wanting to be outdone, Fujigaya sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, then tugged Yokoo up into a sitting position. He ended up sitting in her lap, not that he minded. He pulled her blouse over her head carefully, not wanting to damage the fine material. Her bra was simple and black, laid back and practical but attractive.

He kissed the top of her right breast, above the line of her bra, moved up to nuzzle her neck. She smelled so good, a subtle perfume that drove him quite wild. “Watta,” he murmured against her neck. Yokoo reached behind herself and unhooked her own bra, then dropped it to the side. Fujigaya shook his head to clear it from the distracting influence of Yokoo's perfume.

Fujigaya rose to kick off his jeans, then helped free Yokoo of the rest of her clothes. Finally naked, he lay down on top of her again, covering her body with his own. He kissed her cheek, her ear, trailed kisses down her neck,scratched his teeth lightly over her collarbone. Her hands wandered over his shoulders and back, her long fingers caressing him in the most distracting ways.

“You've done this before?” Yokoo finally asked, when there seemed to be no real progress.

“I do like girls,” he said. It was true too. He was just... a bit out of practice. Which would happen to anyone who hadn't touched a girl since he was fifteen.

“But it's so much easier to keep it inside the company and in your world we are all male,” she finished for him. Yokoo smiled suddenly. “Don't worry, Tai-chan. I'll teach you.” She wrapped her arm around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him again. Then she shoved him off her and rolled onto her side. “Give me your hand.”

He obeyed and she gently guided his hand down, showing him exactly how she liked to be touched, until he could make her twitch and moan his name. By the time her third orgasm rolled around, he was getting pretty desperate. “Watta,” he begged, “I need...”

Smiling, she kissed him, silencing him with her lips. Yokoo wrapped her hand around his dick, her long fingers squeezing him tight. Fujigaya moaned against her lips, rocking into the touch. She brought him off with only a few strokes, drinking in all his moans and little gasps. She brought her hand up to his mouth and let him lick his own release off her fingers. “How long do you need to recover?”

“A while,” Fujigaya admitted. Grinning wickedly, he licked his lips. “Time enough to practice a few more skills.” He crawled down between her legs and showed her what he could do with fingers and tongue.

~~~

“How come you're called Taipi too?” Senga asked. “Takara doesn't have an i.”

“Until elementary school, I was Taka-chan, but my little sister had trouble pronouncing it and called me Tai-chan. Somehow it stuck,” Fujigaya explained. Talking to Senga was surprisingly comfortable. She'd been surprised at first how different Senga looked, more of a difference than with Yokoo or Nikaido, but certain mannerisms of his showed her that his face hadn't always been so square and manly - he had a habit of looking at her with wide eyes and tilting his head that was surprisingly cute, a sure sign that until not too long ago he'd looked as adorable and fluffy as the Senga in her world.

“Do you think it's fate? That nicknames and everything correspond in both worlds? Relationships are the same too, and bands and everything, right?”

“Groups seem to be the same,” she agreed. “But at home, Kae-chan is dating Kitamitsu.” She grinned at Senga. “How is it? Do you have a little crush on Kitamitsu?”

“Everyone had a crush on leader at some point,” Senga admitted, “it's just that mine never really went away.”

Fujigaya pulled a face. “I'm sure I never had a crush on him, unless he's a lot less annoying in your world.” She pulled her feet up onto the couch, sitting more comfortably. “You never tried to do anything about it?”

He shook his head. “He thinks I'm still a kid. When Nika-chan kissed him, Kitamitsu said it was weird 'cause when he looked at Nika, he still saw that rude little brat in his mind.”

“You should take a chance,” Fujigaya said, petting his head. “Kitamitsu is not that much of an ass. Even if he doesn't return your feelings, he won't make your life hard. It would be better for you to know for certain.”

With a sigh, Senga leaned against her side and Fujigaya wrapped her arms around him. “I wish it was that easy,” Senga said.

~~~

Fujigaya pushed herself to her feet. “That's enough. I can't do vocal practice here, but I'll be damned before I sit on my ass all day. Lets dance.”

It was surprisingly easy. The moves were almost the same, and the other members danced almost exactly the way she expected them to. The differences were small enough that by the time they took a second break, she had almost completely forgotten that she wasn't at home.

“Miyata! You are off again,” she glowered. “Stop staring at Tama and watch your damn feet.”

“Sorry, Gaya,” Miyata apologized, snapping back to attention.

The next run went better and the one after that was almost perfect, but then Kitayama suddenly stretched and arched his back. “Break time,” he announced. Fujigaya turned to snap at him, but now that she stood still, she suddenly realized how warm she was. Perhaps a drop to drink would be a good idea after all. Kitayama smirked. The smug bastard had probably seen the whole progression of her thoughts on her face and knew that she had realized that he was right.

A towel dropped on her head. “Come on, Tai-chan,” Yokoo's voice interrupted her thoughts. “I've got the iced tea you like.”

“Yes, yes,” she replied, turning her back on Kitayama.

~~~

“So what's fake about you, do you stuff your pants?” Kitayama smirked. “Gaya's boobs are fake, did you know? She had them done a couple years ago, 'cause hers were even smaller than Nika-chan's.”

Fujigaya stopped to glare. “You're an ass,” he told Kitayama. “Good to know some things are the same everywhere.”

Kitayama looked at him knowingly. “You haven't figured out how to get home yet,” he said slowly, and when Fujigaya's glare intensified continued, “or no, you do know. You just don't want to yet. Is it my ass?” He laughed as Fujigaya stomped off. “I bet it's something really girly, like getting your hair done.”

Turning to Tamamori, Kitayama asked, “Isn't it funny how Gaya's more of a girl when he isn't actually one?”

~~~

Kitayama put the icepack against his eye. “Damn, that girl can throw a punch.” He looked at Miyata with his other eye. Miyata had brought him the ice, but even he didn't look particularly sympathetic.

Nikaido flopped down on the couch next to Kitayama, dragging Senga along with him. “How'd you know Gaya got her boobs done?” he asked, evidently curious.

Putting on his best 'leader knows everything' face, Kitayama replied, “It's the shape, they are unnaturally round and don't bounce nearly enough, considering that she wasn't even wearing a proper sports bra.”

“Ohh,” Nikaido and Senga chorused, impressed by his worldly knowledge.

Tamamori tilted his head. “You said you like small tits. How do you know so much about this?”

“Threesomes,” Kitayama explained smugly, “and foursomes. That soccer player I slept with a couple years ago had a thing for completely fake blondes, so I saw quite a bit of them.”

“Now what is going on in here?” Their manager was standing inside the door, tapping her foot.

~~~

“I can explain,” Yokoo said.

Their manager whirled around to face her. “Can you? I can't wait for that explanation.”

“It's Tai-chan,” Yokoo began, “she-”

“Don't tell me she's pregnant,” their manager interrupted, exasperated. “She is, isn't she? Is it Kitayama's? You know this is the worst possible time for this!”

“Gaya got sucked into a magic mirror,” Tamamori reported, “but it's okay, we got a replacement. He's a guy though.” Everyone stared at him and Tamamori blinked. “What, was that supposed to be some kind of secret?”

Yokoo used the ensuing confusion to slip away and continue her search. Fujigaya had stomped out of the room after his fight with Kitayama. She walked past a half-open door and paused. That was the practice room in which the mirror stood through which Fujigaya had appeared. She opened the door and found him inside, staring at the mirror.

“Taisuke?” she asked, coming up behind him.

“I want to go home,” he admitted.

Yokoo stepped closer to the mirror, running her long fingers over it. “There must be a way to get you home.”

Fujigaya moved forwards, until he was right behind her and nuzzled Yokoo's neck. She smelled so good. Fujigaya stepped closer, pressing against her back. “Watta,” he murmured, embracing her. “Let me have you?”

Tilting her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, Yokoo laughed, “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“I'm a fast learner.”

She turned in his arms and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Then have me.”

Fujigaya kissed her again, guiding her backwards until her back was against the mirror. “I'll make you feel so good,” he promised. He nuzzled her neck, taking in her scent, then he sank to the floor, kneeling in front of her.

“In a hurry?” Yokoo asked, raising her eyebrow as she looked down at him.

“Break isn't that long,” Fujigaya told Yokoo, tugging on the sweatpants she was wearing for practice. When Yokoo didn't object, he pulled her pants down and she kicked them off. He leaned in right away to lick at her and she spread her legs wider, making it easier for him. She leaned her back against the mirror and rested her hands on his shoulders as he worked her over with his tongue.

Fujigaya licked at her sensitive folds, exploring with his tongue, Yokoo's soft moans guiding him. He licked in deeper, at the same time using his fingers to tease at her clit, putting everything he'd learned last night to good use.

“Just like that,” Yokoo encouraged him between moans, “just like that, Tai-chan.”

After a while, he switched things up by gently pushing two fingers into her and using his tongue on her sensitive nub instead. She felt good around his fingers, silky soft and warm, slick with excitement. When he put his right hand against the mirror for balance, the glass felt surprisingly warm under his palm, almost as if he was touching something alive and not like a mirror at all.

Yokoo cried out suddenly, squeezing tight around his fingers, and he forgot all about the mirror. He kept going while she shivered and moaned until she pushed him away. “Enough,” Yokoo said, panting for breath, “I want you now.” She pulled Fujigaya up onto his feet, kissed him with a startling intensity.

Fujigaya pushed his pants down just far enough to free his cock and quickly rolled a condom on. “Hold on,” he told Yokoo and lifted her up into the air, bracing her against the mirror. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, holding on tight. He slowly pushed into her and groaned at the tight squeeze - they hadn't done that last night and she felt amazing around him.

“Mh, Tai-chan,” Yokoo moaned, “so good.” Fujigaya snapped his hips, fucking her with slow, deep thrusts, enjoying every single one of her moans. He moved his left hand up to cup her breast through her clothes, kneading gently. Yokoo grinned at him. “Should have taken the time to undress properly, hm?”

She squeezed tight around him suddenly and Fujigaya gasped, nearly losing his balance. His left hand slammed against the mirror, palm first and he met his own startled eyes in the mirror. For just a moment, the thought he saw a girl staring back at him, a girl who was him but not, the mirror warm under his fingers. Then the moment passed, his reflection back to normal.

“Harder,” Yokoo moaned, digging her fingers into his shoulders insistently, “do me harder, Tai-chan.”

Shaking his head, Fujigaya mentally put the mirror moment aside and did as he was told.

~~~

“Calm down, Tai-chan.” Yokoo followed her into an empty practice room, the mirrors staring back at them. He closed the door and Fujigaya turned to glare at him.

“That jerk drives my crazy!” she exclaimed.

“Is he any worse than the Kitamitsu in your world?”

Fujigaya drew a big breath and blew it out slowly. “No, I guess not. I just... I miss home and everything here is so weird. Every time I think I know something, a tiny detail throws me off again.” She stared at the mirror. “I just want to go home.”

Yokoo put his hand against the mirror, ran his long fingers over the surface of it. “There must be a way to get you home,” he said. He wanted to say something more, but Fujigaya's lips against his stopped him. She pushed him back, against the glass.

“I want you, Watta,” she said. Without waiting for an answer, she sank down to her knees and nuzzled his dick through his pants.

“Here?” Yokoo asked, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“Like you've never gotten a blowjob in a practice room before,” she said with a laugh. She pulled his sweatpants down and freed his cock, already half hard. She licked at his tip, flicking her tongue against it. She wrapped a hand around him, stroking slowly, feeling him harden under her touch. She put her left hand against the mirror for balance as she took him into her mouth. The mirror felt strangely warm under her palm, almost as if it was alive.

Fujigaya dismissed the thought, instead focused on the dick in her mouth. She sucked her cheeks in, bobbing her head slowly, Yokoo's dick slowly growing to fill her mouth. Yokoo groaned, a stream of praise flowing from his lips, telling her how good it felt, how pretty she looked. His fingers were digging into her shoulders, but he didn't try to grab her head - he must have realized that she didn't like to have her hair touched, just like her male counterpart.

Once Yokoo was fully hard, she rose to her feet. She leaned in to kiss him. “Fuck me against that mirror,” she said against his lips. While she kicked her pants and underwear off, he quickly rolled a condom on. Fujigaya braced against the mirror and spread her legs. Looking back over her shoulder, she asked, “Ready?”

“Not quite.” Yokoo leaned over her and kissed her neck. “Now I'm ready.” He took a firm hold on her hips and pushed into her in one smooth thrust.

“Oh,” Fujigaya moaned. She was slick and sensitive, more than ready for him, and it felt so good to finally have him inside her. She moaned at every thrust, scrabbling at the mirror. “Harder!” she gasped. Yokoo obliged, fucking her fast and hard, exactly the way she wanted it. Her eyes fluttered shut as she moaned, enjoying every thrust. The glass under her left hand felt strangely warm.

Yokoo's hand was suddenly between her legs and Fujigaya gasped in surprise, her eyes flying open. The face she saw in the mirror was her own yet not, a guy that looked almost like her, except for a few details. Then the moment was past and her reflection was her own again, only the fading warmth of the mirror under her palm telling her it might not have been imagination.

On to Part 2