Five Ways T&T Celebrated Christmas Together (part 1 of 2)
Title: Five Three Ways T&T Celebrated Christmas Together
Pairing: tackey x tsubasa
Rating: G through R
“Make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon!” Tsubasa had said when he arrived.
In actuality, he would’ve had better luck finding a leprechaun behind the television stand than finding a safe spot to sit, Hideaki grumbles to himself (not that there was any chance of coming across one since there wasn’t a space appropriately labeled mythical creature hiding spot).
He steps his way gingerly around the living room, eyeballing Tsubasa’s latest souvenirs and knicknacks gathered from his travels, careful to keep his hands in his pockets so as to not accidentally knock anything out of place.
He pauses at the far end of the room and stares up, nonplussed. Admittedly, his partner was weird, but this was a whole new level of strange. “Why do you have your groceries up on your walls?”
“Hmm?” Tsubasa wanders into the room, wiping his hands off on his apron.
Hideaki points at the bunch of dried leaves and twigs taped up on the doorjamb.
“I see you found it.” Tsubasa crosses the room and grins.
“Hmm?”
Hideaki doesn’t have much time to process his confusion before Tsubasa’s lips close over his.
***
Hideaki’s hair is a dirty ash blond, falling over his eyes and across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of black growing out from the roots which should by all laws of the universe, look out of place, but on Hide-kun, looks natural.
Tsubasa takes his time in tracing the contoured ridges of Hideaki’s stomach with his finger, working carefully around his cock before running his hands down the inside of Hideaki’s left leg and then back up the right. Goosebumps break out in his wake. By the time he’s done, Hideaki’s chest is rising and falling erratically, his stomach muscles quivering.
Perfection. Like a god, Tsubasa decides. He licks his lips in anticipation, a subconscious action he only becomes aware of in retrospect from watching Hideaki’s pupils dilate. He moves to crouch between Hideaki’s legs and breathes in deeply, feeling his own cock pulse in his pants. He adjusts the velvet bow tied around the base of Hideaki’s cock and looks up. “You know, I don’t think you really want your Christmas present.”
Hideaki wriggles around impatiently, but with all four limbs strapped to their respective bedposts, doesn’t get far. “Imai-san,” he yelps.
Tsubasa lowers his head again, coming short of Hideaki’s crotch by half a palm’s length. “I’ll start when you’re ready,” he says.
Hideaki is staring at him in shock. “You’re joking.”
“And yet, I’m not laughing,” Tsubasa purrs back. “Show me you want it,” he demands.
Hideaki flushes bright red with a mix of embarrassment and arousal but the embarrassment is short-lived. Before long, he’s bucking his hips up, straining to make contact with Tsubasa’s lips.
***
A small get together, Hideaki had said happily over the phone while rattling off the directions.
Tsubasa’s eyebrows shoot up when he walks into the privately reserved room in the yakiniku restaurant. A cursory headcount reports that there are at least thirty juniors elbowing each other in the ribs as they shovel food in their mouths and yell over each other’s heads. The older ones are sipping away merrily at what looks to be a quickly diminishing stockpile of beer.
He sends a look over at Hideaki who smiles back at him sheepishly with cooking chopsticks in hand, clearly in his element. Tsubasa grins wryly back. Well, by normal standards, thirty would probably be massive. By Hideaki’s, it was minimal.
Pairing: tackey x tsubasa
Rating: G through R
“Make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon!” Tsubasa had said when he arrived.
In actuality, he would’ve had better luck finding a leprechaun behind the television stand than finding a safe spot to sit, Hideaki grumbles to himself (not that there was any chance of coming across one since there wasn’t a space appropriately labeled mythical creature hiding spot).
He steps his way gingerly around the living room, eyeballing Tsubasa’s latest souvenirs and knicknacks gathered from his travels, careful to keep his hands in his pockets so as to not accidentally knock anything out of place.
He pauses at the far end of the room and stares up, nonplussed. Admittedly, his partner was weird, but this was a whole new level of strange. “Why do you have your groceries up on your walls?”
“Hmm?” Tsubasa wanders into the room, wiping his hands off on his apron.
Hideaki points at the bunch of dried leaves and twigs taped up on the doorjamb.
“I see you found it.” Tsubasa crosses the room and grins.
“Hmm?”
Hideaki doesn’t have much time to process his confusion before Tsubasa’s lips close over his.
***
Hideaki’s hair is a dirty ash blond, falling over his eyes and across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of black growing out from the roots which should by all laws of the universe, look out of place, but on Hide-kun, looks natural.
Tsubasa takes his time in tracing the contoured ridges of Hideaki’s stomach with his finger, working carefully around his cock before running his hands down the inside of Hideaki’s left leg and then back up the right. Goosebumps break out in his wake. By the time he’s done, Hideaki’s chest is rising and falling erratically, his stomach muscles quivering.
Perfection. Like a god, Tsubasa decides. He licks his lips in anticipation, a subconscious action he only becomes aware of in retrospect from watching Hideaki’s pupils dilate. He moves to crouch between Hideaki’s legs and breathes in deeply, feeling his own cock pulse in his pants. He adjusts the velvet bow tied around the base of Hideaki’s cock and looks up. “You know, I don’t think you really want your Christmas present.”
Hideaki wriggles around impatiently, but with all four limbs strapped to their respective bedposts, doesn’t get far. “Imai-san,” he yelps.
Tsubasa lowers his head again, coming short of Hideaki’s crotch by half a palm’s length. “I’ll start when you’re ready,” he says.
Hideaki is staring at him in shock. “You’re joking.”
“And yet, I’m not laughing,” Tsubasa purrs back. “Show me you want it,” he demands.
Hideaki flushes bright red with a mix of embarrassment and arousal but the embarrassment is short-lived. Before long, he’s bucking his hips up, straining to make contact with Tsubasa’s lips.
***
A small get together, Hideaki had said happily over the phone while rattling off the directions.
Tsubasa’s eyebrows shoot up when he walks into the privately reserved room in the yakiniku restaurant. A cursory headcount reports that there are at least thirty juniors elbowing each other in the ribs as they shovel food in their mouths and yell over each other’s heads. The older ones are sipping away merrily at what looks to be a quickly diminishing stockpile of beer.
He sends a look over at Hideaki who smiles back at him sheepishly with cooking chopsticks in hand, clearly in his element. Tsubasa grins wryly back. Well, by normal standards, thirty would probably be massive. By Hideaki’s, it was minimal.