On the Occasion of a Return
Title: On the Occasion of a Return
Fandom: JE - Arashi
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Notes: Written for still_ciircee for the JE fq_fest fic exchange, 2009. ;)
There was warmth all around him, the kind of soft leftover warmth expected of a late hour on a summer day. There were brief caresses of cool air brushing across his skin, skittering along his nerves. Low voices murmured in his ears, deep, velvety, throaty echoes of amused laughter.
The world’s greatest flavor was on his tongue. Salty, a little sweet, heavy with more than memories. A flavor that spoke of more than happiness or love or simple affection. The flavor of shared souls.
He trembled under the touch of smooth fingertips. They traced down his spine, pushed gently against pockets of stress and strain he hadn’t consciously known he carried, freeing him from weeks’ worth of concerns.
Silk was the feeling of hair against his thigh, where a head was nestled. Every so often soft, dry lips would float down to meet his skin. Warmth was the sensation where they touched.
Warmth, softness, sharing. The simple joys that made life worth living.
“I love you,” drifting down from the head of the bed, little more than a whisper. “I love you so much.”
The most amazing sound in the world, that secret confession. “I love you,” it was repeated.
He could have survived for days on the fullness within his spirit when the words were echoed.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you so much.”
Slowness, gentleness. A nose tucked itself behind his neck. The drawing of breath, the release of a sigh, the slightest of shudders. “Please,” the word slid across the back of his neck, not directed at him but sinking into him all the same, “please.”
“Ah,” the cry high and free. “Ah.”
He opened his eyes.
Hands were clasped in his vision. Fingers tightened, knuckles whitening, as the smaller hand shook within the larger. He felt his own lips change their position, slide into a smile, as large fingers entwined with slighter ones. “Steady,” a smoky whisper as the other large hand drifted slowly away from the work it had done.
From his position kneeling by two pairs of feet, gazing up the lengths of golden limbs splayed out on the bed in shameless comfort, he watched as slightly calloused fingers played gentle symphonies on the sensitive body below. “Calmly,” that husky voice caressed the air, “We’re here.”
The hand on his back slid around to rest on the curve of his hip and a sharp chin settled on his shoulder. A trace of vanilla washed over his senses and he inhaled, deeply, savoring the scent. “It’s nice, isn’t it, watching them together,” Jun asked, voice barely a breath in his ear.
“I was sensing more than looking,” he admitted, feeling a hand slide smoothly across his legs in retreat from its slow work on Jun.
The hands before him separated, drifting to either side of his vision. The head on his thigh lifted the merest fraction as its owner stretched out long, nimble fingers to touch the back of the small hand now clenching in soft sheets. The hand on his back stilled, palm warm and grounding at the center of his spine.
Dark eyes opened, still hazy with emotions and desire, and swept slowly from first one pair of eyes to another, then another, and finally to his own. “Welcome back, Nino,” he said.
Thin lips curled up into a smile, and his body ached with the memory of shared kisses. He watched the aftershocks travel through the man before him, watched the firm lines of the other reclining body settle reassuringly next to trembling limbs. Watched as chapped and bitten lips pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of Nino’s eye. Gentle and nurturing was Sho’s style, even in intimate activities.
“Maybe I should go out of the country more often,” Nino’s chest rose and sank in a contented sigh, “if this is what I get when I come home.”
“Absolutely not.” Sho lifted an arm from where it had settled across Nino’s collarbone and reached to tug lightly on a lock of the other man’s short, short hair.
“No more leaving us! It was lonely and cold without you, right, Leader?” On his lap, Aiba’s head twisted shortly from side to side in disapproval.
He hummed in agreement, almost without noticing he was doing so. He looked down, seeing his own hand lift to stroke through the hair spilling across his thighs. One of his favorite textures, that mix of natural silkiness and chemical coarseness.
Toes pressed briefly into his knee. He swept his gaze from the hair in his hands to the lithe legs in front of him and along the smooth skin of Nino’s chest. He took his time, refamiliarizing himself with muscles and beauty marks. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet Nino’s. “No more leaving. Not for a long time from now.”
Solemn, the expression that met his gaze. “No,” the affirmation.
He leaned to one side, breaking the gaze and dislodging the solid weight of Jun’s body from his back. A small cache of supplies had been set on one corner of the bed and he reached now for a damp cloth with which to clean Nino’s stomach.
Aiba, sitting up, pulled the cloth from his hand. “Our turn.”
Now, now that the edge of loneliness and melancholy had been taken away, the desperation for closeness and contact met, eyes began to sparkle and lips to curve.
“It was far too quiet without you, you know.” He watched Sho’s thick fingers play in circles around Nino’s chest before withdrawing.
Nino chortled, visibly trying not to react to the combination of teasing terrycloth and skin. “It could never be quiet, not with Aiba around.” Then, “Ah!”
The slide of Jun’s fingers from the reddening skin of Nino’s ankle was a study in sensuous movement. Perfectly manicured nails scratched lightly over sensitive skin, sending ripples of sensation through the smaller man.
“None of that,” the warning was edged with the same sharpness as the previous pinch. “Sho spoils you. Masaki might want to, but I am not that nice.”
He closed his eyes to revel in the gasp Nino made then as Aiba and Jun descended. These new caresses were firm, the sound a rasp of palms skimming against flesh tacky with sweat. The warmth was blossoming into fierce heat, sparked by the bodies on either side of his own. The entrancing scent of seduction grew in the air.
The intensity of the changed emotions drove a shiver throughout his body. Methodology had changed from pampering to reprimand, impact from hazy sensation to stark physicality.
He opened his eyes.
Two pairs of hands roamed freely across the small body, teasing and taunting. Nimble fingers plucked at dark nipples, danced across flat muscles, circled sensitive areas. When limbs threatened to move, hands mercilessly restrained. The contrast of colors, of skin tones and flushes and dark heads of hair, was one of the greatest natural works of art.
He studied intently as Aiba’s teeth flashed white against the unprotected abdomen. Sympathetic vibrations seared across his own nerves as full lips scraped from navel to neck, where Aiba paused to torment a pulse point.
Jun had inched forward, leaning low against Nino’s legs and mouthing wetly at the juncture of body and thigh. “You earn probation for being away for work, but I think you need to learn something. If you leave for extended periods of time, we will be forced to extract retribution.”
Aiba agreed, huskily. “We couldn't touch you, Nino. Phone calls are only phone calls. It was torture.”
Although it was directed into Nino’s leg, he could perfectly imagine the haughty curl of Jun’s lip. “We are going to touch. You cannot.”
It was a perfectly coordinated dance, nipping and licking and petting and tugging. Nino’s chest heaved with barely repressed cries as the touches settled in particularly sensitive areas.
The sight of Aiba’s tongue meeting with a peaked nipple, of lips closing firmly around it and suckling gently, kindled a slow burn across the back of his mind. The play of Jun’s thin fingers sliding up the length of reawakened erection ignited a searing heat deep within his chest. He licked his lips. “Not all the way.”
Two pairs of eyes turned in his direction. Two chins dipped in short nods of acknowledgment.
His view was partially obscured by the back of Jun’s head as attentions returned to the task at hand. Aiba’s mouth descended to Nino’s clavicle, Jun’s to the base of Nino’s groin. A high gasp signaled their victim’s appreciation, although it was hastily followed by a tremulous, “This is…merciless…exploitation.”
“Indeed,” Jun cooed while Aiba merely chuckled throatily.
His eyes trailed up to settle on Sho, who had pulled back to allow the others full access to Nino’s body. He couldn’t help but react to the indulgent look he saw directed at the bodies between them. “Teamwork. Properly applied.”
Sho’s eyes glittered with content. “The best application possible.”
Whimpers refocused attention to the scene at the center of the bed. Aiba’s lithe form was now draped fully across Nino’s torso, effectively holding the smaller man immobile. Jun was holding Nino’s erection in one hand, head tilted alongside it, tongue darting out to steal quick, teasing tastes.
As Aiba nursed at the sensitive areas of Nino’s chest, the movements of Jun’s head became more quick and purposeful. Swipes of tongue melted into open-mouthed suckling, a simple grasp shifted to short, twisting squeezes.
Beyond the attentive bodies, Nino keened. Hearing it, he licked his lips again, thinking of the incredible flavor of the other man’s kisses.
“Too long,” Aiba sighed happily, tracing designs between straining pectorals with fingers that swooped every so often to pinch enticing nipples. “It’s been too long since we could touch you.”
Between Nino’s legs, Jun hummed in agreement. The added stimulation caused Nino to curse through labored panting. The angle of Jun’s neck hid the next action from his view, but from the sound of Nino’s agonized cry he could imagine the light scrape of sharp teeth, the point of a tongue pressing against an oversensitive vein. Aiba and Jun were masters of physical manipulation; Nino would not last long against their attentions.
“Stop.” He reached out a hand and smoothed a strand of ink black hair behind Jun’s ear.
With lingering touches, Aiba and Jun pulled back, revealing Nino completely. Sweat glistened across the prone body, begging to be tasted. Limbs that had been weighed down and immobile twitched with the palpable urge to replace questing mouths and provide relief.
“Oh-chan,” a ragged whisper.
He waited, still kneeling, for lust-blackened eyes to slit open and seek his own. “You went away.”
“W…work.” Barely audible past gasping breaths.
“You still left.” He studied the rise and fall of an Adam’s apple as Nino concentrated on calming down. He caught and held the other man’s gaze. “You went away. Make it up to me.”
For the briefest moment, there was utter silence. Then, “Oh-chan.” Nino sat up, stretching forward, and maybe his depth perception had been clouded by the heat in his mind because it seemed that Nino had barely moved before his hands were being held tightly and he was being drawn forward.
A damp forehead met his own. Low and gravelly, Nino uttered his name. “I missed you.”
“Make it up to me,” he repeated.
Small, clever hands slid up the length of his arms, stroking every nerve into wakefulness. He allowed himself to be moved, turned and lowered to the mattress where Nino had lain. Distantly he registered the other three moving to one side.
Liquid fire raced along his veins when Nino’s mouth met his. That incredible flavor, the taste and spice of Nino’s kisses which he’d had but one taste of so far this night, heightened his desire and made him hyperaware of every point of contact between their bodies. He closed his eyes once more, the better to experience the feeling.
Warm and wet, a tongue at his collarbone. It swirled briefly, then alternated with teasing nibbles. Heat across his skin as Nino’s hands explored his. Starbursts erupted in his chest in response to lightly sucking kisses down his torso. A breathtaking pause, a slick tongue swirling around his navel, both of his nipples suddenly pinched just so. The sensation left him quivering.
“Satisfying, isn’t it?” Sho’s voice murmured. “Seeing this?” Two soft hums of agreement.
His erection slid past greedy lips. Shockwaves coursed from his groin. Tweaks to his nipples accompanied intense suction. Sudden, intense, irresistible. He felt a groan bubble in this throat. He was powerless to stop it.
Nothing now at his chest. Hands moving elsewhere, sliding between his legs. Cold air around the moistened base of his erection, searing velvet heat around the head. Slight force on his inner thighs, urging his legs apart. “Yes,” he breathed. Dry fingers stroked at his perineum, slick ones further back. He shivered, gasping.
His ears pricked at the crinkle of foil. Nino’s lips slipped from his penis and he heard a whimper. It must have been his own. Nino rasped, “Give me one too, Aiba-chan.”
Ah, the others were taking care of each other, then. That was good. “Hurry, Nino.”
A sense of pressure, an intrusion. His pelvis rocked up, his head bent back against the mattress. More pressure, the burn of stretching. Two fingers scissored maddeningly inside him. He was impatient. He bit his lip, thrust his hips downward. More burn, more stretching, three fingertips prodding. Lightning danced behind his eyelids.
“I missed you so much,” barely audible. Fingers retreated. More metallic tearing sounds, a short hiss. Firm, unmoving, pressure between his legs. Hands landing on either side of him. An inhalation.
He raised his eyelids to stare at Nino’s face, hovering above him. “Here, Nino. This is where you belong.”
Synchronous cries torn from their throats. A thick length inside him. A slight form above him. Shared heat and sweat and desire. Fireworks where Nino’s lips danced over his shoulder. Earthquakes from the slide of slick erection against receptive nerves. Mist covering his vision, blurring the sharpness of well-known features. Motion, fast, slow, steady, stuttering. Arms entwining, clutching. Holding and grounding. Cries of completion, not his own. Not Nino’s. Gasps and groans driving him to seek his own finish.
Blood thundering in his ears. White light.
Weight lifted, slid against him in the act of separation. A soft, damp cloth brushed across his belly. He smiled, content, finding similar expressions on four other faces colored with personality. Sho’s expression indulgent and soft; Jun’s sly and knowing; Aiba’s sunny and welcoming. Nino’s tired, sated, and nostalgic.
“Welcome back, Nino,” he said again, feeling full.
Fandom: JE - Arashi
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Notes: Written for still_ciircee for the JE fq_fest fic exchange, 2009. ;)
There was warmth all around him, the kind of soft leftover warmth expected of a late hour on a summer day. There were brief caresses of cool air brushing across his skin, skittering along his nerves. Low voices murmured in his ears, deep, velvety, throaty echoes of amused laughter.
The world’s greatest flavor was on his tongue. Salty, a little sweet, heavy with more than memories. A flavor that spoke of more than happiness or love or simple affection. The flavor of shared souls.
He trembled under the touch of smooth fingertips. They traced down his spine, pushed gently against pockets of stress and strain he hadn’t consciously known he carried, freeing him from weeks’ worth of concerns.
Silk was the feeling of hair against his thigh, where a head was nestled. Every so often soft, dry lips would float down to meet his skin. Warmth was the sensation where they touched.
Warmth, softness, sharing. The simple joys that made life worth living.
“I love you,” drifting down from the head of the bed, little more than a whisper. “I love you so much.”
The most amazing sound in the world, that secret confession. “I love you,” it was repeated.
He could have survived for days on the fullness within his spirit when the words were echoed.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you so much.”
Slowness, gentleness. A nose tucked itself behind his neck. The drawing of breath, the release of a sigh, the slightest of shudders. “Please,” the word slid across the back of his neck, not directed at him but sinking into him all the same, “please.”
“Ah,” the cry high and free. “Ah.”
He opened his eyes.
Hands were clasped in his vision. Fingers tightened, knuckles whitening, as the smaller hand shook within the larger. He felt his own lips change their position, slide into a smile, as large fingers entwined with slighter ones. “Steady,” a smoky whisper as the other large hand drifted slowly away from the work it had done.
From his position kneeling by two pairs of feet, gazing up the lengths of golden limbs splayed out on the bed in shameless comfort, he watched as slightly calloused fingers played gentle symphonies on the sensitive body below. “Calmly,” that husky voice caressed the air, “We’re here.”
The hand on his back slid around to rest on the curve of his hip and a sharp chin settled on his shoulder. A trace of vanilla washed over his senses and he inhaled, deeply, savoring the scent. “It’s nice, isn’t it, watching them together,” Jun asked, voice barely a breath in his ear.
“I was sensing more than looking,” he admitted, feeling a hand slide smoothly across his legs in retreat from its slow work on Jun.
The hands before him separated, drifting to either side of his vision. The head on his thigh lifted the merest fraction as its owner stretched out long, nimble fingers to touch the back of the small hand now clenching in soft sheets. The hand on his back stilled, palm warm and grounding at the center of his spine.
Dark eyes opened, still hazy with emotions and desire, and swept slowly from first one pair of eyes to another, then another, and finally to his own. “Welcome back, Nino,” he said.
Thin lips curled up into a smile, and his body ached with the memory of shared kisses. He watched the aftershocks travel through the man before him, watched the firm lines of the other reclining body settle reassuringly next to trembling limbs. Watched as chapped and bitten lips pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of Nino’s eye. Gentle and nurturing was Sho’s style, even in intimate activities.
“Maybe I should go out of the country more often,” Nino’s chest rose and sank in a contented sigh, “if this is what I get when I come home.”
“Absolutely not.” Sho lifted an arm from where it had settled across Nino’s collarbone and reached to tug lightly on a lock of the other man’s short, short hair.
“No more leaving us! It was lonely and cold without you, right, Leader?” On his lap, Aiba’s head twisted shortly from side to side in disapproval.
He hummed in agreement, almost without noticing he was doing so. He looked down, seeing his own hand lift to stroke through the hair spilling across his thighs. One of his favorite textures, that mix of natural silkiness and chemical coarseness.
Toes pressed briefly into his knee. He swept his gaze from the hair in his hands to the lithe legs in front of him and along the smooth skin of Nino’s chest. He took his time, refamiliarizing himself with muscles and beauty marks. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet Nino’s. “No more leaving. Not for a long time from now.”
Solemn, the expression that met his gaze. “No,” the affirmation.
He leaned to one side, breaking the gaze and dislodging the solid weight of Jun’s body from his back. A small cache of supplies had been set on one corner of the bed and he reached now for a damp cloth with which to clean Nino’s stomach.
Aiba, sitting up, pulled the cloth from his hand. “Our turn.”
Now, now that the edge of loneliness and melancholy had been taken away, the desperation for closeness and contact met, eyes began to sparkle and lips to curve.
“It was far too quiet without you, you know.” He watched Sho’s thick fingers play in circles around Nino’s chest before withdrawing.
Nino chortled, visibly trying not to react to the combination of teasing terrycloth and skin. “It could never be quiet, not with Aiba around.” Then, “Ah!”
The slide of Jun’s fingers from the reddening skin of Nino’s ankle was a study in sensuous movement. Perfectly manicured nails scratched lightly over sensitive skin, sending ripples of sensation through the smaller man.
“None of that,” the warning was edged with the same sharpness as the previous pinch. “Sho spoils you. Masaki might want to, but I am not that nice.”
He closed his eyes to revel in the gasp Nino made then as Aiba and Jun descended. These new caresses were firm, the sound a rasp of palms skimming against flesh tacky with sweat. The warmth was blossoming into fierce heat, sparked by the bodies on either side of his own. The entrancing scent of seduction grew in the air.
The intensity of the changed emotions drove a shiver throughout his body. Methodology had changed from pampering to reprimand, impact from hazy sensation to stark physicality.
He opened his eyes.
Two pairs of hands roamed freely across the small body, teasing and taunting. Nimble fingers plucked at dark nipples, danced across flat muscles, circled sensitive areas. When limbs threatened to move, hands mercilessly restrained. The contrast of colors, of skin tones and flushes and dark heads of hair, was one of the greatest natural works of art.
He studied intently as Aiba’s teeth flashed white against the unprotected abdomen. Sympathetic vibrations seared across his own nerves as full lips scraped from navel to neck, where Aiba paused to torment a pulse point.
Jun had inched forward, leaning low against Nino’s legs and mouthing wetly at the juncture of body and thigh. “You earn probation for being away for work, but I think you need to learn something. If you leave for extended periods of time, we will be forced to extract retribution.”
Aiba agreed, huskily. “We couldn't touch you, Nino. Phone calls are only phone calls. It was torture.”
Although it was directed into Nino’s leg, he could perfectly imagine the haughty curl of Jun’s lip. “We are going to touch. You cannot.”
It was a perfectly coordinated dance, nipping and licking and petting and tugging. Nino’s chest heaved with barely repressed cries as the touches settled in particularly sensitive areas.
The sight of Aiba’s tongue meeting with a peaked nipple, of lips closing firmly around it and suckling gently, kindled a slow burn across the back of his mind. The play of Jun’s thin fingers sliding up the length of reawakened erection ignited a searing heat deep within his chest. He licked his lips. “Not all the way.”
Two pairs of eyes turned in his direction. Two chins dipped in short nods of acknowledgment.
His view was partially obscured by the back of Jun’s head as attentions returned to the task at hand. Aiba’s mouth descended to Nino’s clavicle, Jun’s to the base of Nino’s groin. A high gasp signaled their victim’s appreciation, although it was hastily followed by a tremulous, “This is…merciless…exploitation.”
“Indeed,” Jun cooed while Aiba merely chuckled throatily.
His eyes trailed up to settle on Sho, who had pulled back to allow the others full access to Nino’s body. He couldn’t help but react to the indulgent look he saw directed at the bodies between them. “Teamwork. Properly applied.”
Sho’s eyes glittered with content. “The best application possible.”
Whimpers refocused attention to the scene at the center of the bed. Aiba’s lithe form was now draped fully across Nino’s torso, effectively holding the smaller man immobile. Jun was holding Nino’s erection in one hand, head tilted alongside it, tongue darting out to steal quick, teasing tastes.
As Aiba nursed at the sensitive areas of Nino’s chest, the movements of Jun’s head became more quick and purposeful. Swipes of tongue melted into open-mouthed suckling, a simple grasp shifted to short, twisting squeezes.
Beyond the attentive bodies, Nino keened. Hearing it, he licked his lips again, thinking of the incredible flavor of the other man’s kisses.
“Too long,” Aiba sighed happily, tracing designs between straining pectorals with fingers that swooped every so often to pinch enticing nipples. “It’s been too long since we could touch you.”
Between Nino’s legs, Jun hummed in agreement. The added stimulation caused Nino to curse through labored panting. The angle of Jun’s neck hid the next action from his view, but from the sound of Nino’s agonized cry he could imagine the light scrape of sharp teeth, the point of a tongue pressing against an oversensitive vein. Aiba and Jun were masters of physical manipulation; Nino would not last long against their attentions.
“Stop.” He reached out a hand and smoothed a strand of ink black hair behind Jun’s ear.
With lingering touches, Aiba and Jun pulled back, revealing Nino completely. Sweat glistened across the prone body, begging to be tasted. Limbs that had been weighed down and immobile twitched with the palpable urge to replace questing mouths and provide relief.
“Oh-chan,” a ragged whisper.
He waited, still kneeling, for lust-blackened eyes to slit open and seek his own. “You went away.”
“W…work.” Barely audible past gasping breaths.
“You still left.” He studied the rise and fall of an Adam’s apple as Nino concentrated on calming down. He caught and held the other man’s gaze. “You went away. Make it up to me.”
For the briefest moment, there was utter silence. Then, “Oh-chan.” Nino sat up, stretching forward, and maybe his depth perception had been clouded by the heat in his mind because it seemed that Nino had barely moved before his hands were being held tightly and he was being drawn forward.
A damp forehead met his own. Low and gravelly, Nino uttered his name. “I missed you.”
“Make it up to me,” he repeated.
Small, clever hands slid up the length of his arms, stroking every nerve into wakefulness. He allowed himself to be moved, turned and lowered to the mattress where Nino had lain. Distantly he registered the other three moving to one side.
Liquid fire raced along his veins when Nino’s mouth met his. That incredible flavor, the taste and spice of Nino’s kisses which he’d had but one taste of so far this night, heightened his desire and made him hyperaware of every point of contact between their bodies. He closed his eyes once more, the better to experience the feeling.
Warm and wet, a tongue at his collarbone. It swirled briefly, then alternated with teasing nibbles. Heat across his skin as Nino’s hands explored his. Starbursts erupted in his chest in response to lightly sucking kisses down his torso. A breathtaking pause, a slick tongue swirling around his navel, both of his nipples suddenly pinched just so. The sensation left him quivering.
“Satisfying, isn’t it?” Sho’s voice murmured. “Seeing this?” Two soft hums of agreement.
His erection slid past greedy lips. Shockwaves coursed from his groin. Tweaks to his nipples accompanied intense suction. Sudden, intense, irresistible. He felt a groan bubble in this throat. He was powerless to stop it.
Nothing now at his chest. Hands moving elsewhere, sliding between his legs. Cold air around the moistened base of his erection, searing velvet heat around the head. Slight force on his inner thighs, urging his legs apart. “Yes,” he breathed. Dry fingers stroked at his perineum, slick ones further back. He shivered, gasping.
His ears pricked at the crinkle of foil. Nino’s lips slipped from his penis and he heard a whimper. It must have been his own. Nino rasped, “Give me one too, Aiba-chan.”
Ah, the others were taking care of each other, then. That was good. “Hurry, Nino.”
A sense of pressure, an intrusion. His pelvis rocked up, his head bent back against the mattress. More pressure, the burn of stretching. Two fingers scissored maddeningly inside him. He was impatient. He bit his lip, thrust his hips downward. More burn, more stretching, three fingertips prodding. Lightning danced behind his eyelids.
“I missed you so much,” barely audible. Fingers retreated. More metallic tearing sounds, a short hiss. Firm, unmoving, pressure between his legs. Hands landing on either side of him. An inhalation.
He raised his eyelids to stare at Nino’s face, hovering above him. “Here, Nino. This is where you belong.”
Synchronous cries torn from their throats. A thick length inside him. A slight form above him. Shared heat and sweat and desire. Fireworks where Nino’s lips danced over his shoulder. Earthquakes from the slide of slick erection against receptive nerves. Mist covering his vision, blurring the sharpness of well-known features. Motion, fast, slow, steady, stuttering. Arms entwining, clutching. Holding and grounding. Cries of completion, not his own. Not Nino’s. Gasps and groans driving him to seek his own finish.
Blood thundering in his ears. White light.
Weight lifted, slid against him in the act of separation. A soft, damp cloth brushed across his belly. He smiled, content, finding similar expressions on four other faces colored with personality. Sho’s expression indulgent and soft; Jun’s sly and knowing; Aiba’s sunny and welcoming. Nino’s tired, sated, and nostalgic.
“Welcome back, Nino,” he said again, feeling full.