Fic: Stripteased 2: The New Guy (Byou X Ruki, NC-17)

[puss_nd_boots]

Title: Stripteased 2: The New Guy
Chapter: Sequel to Stripteased
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Stripper AU. Pure PWP Smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, some fighting for dominance
Pairing: Byou X Ruki, some Aoi X Kazuki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Ruki is a stripper with a specialty - who is aghast when a new dancer arrives at the club who can perform the same move just as well as him. But is what he’s feeling just jealousy?
Comments: I’ve always wondered if Ruki ever watched SCREW’s tongue-action-heavy PVs and thought, “He fucking stole my act!” (Not that Byou actually did - I think blatant oral displays just come naturally to them both. ~_^). That, plus the fact that I wanted to do another fic in the strip club setting, became this fic.

Ruki hadn’t thought much about a new dancer arriving at the club. They came and went all the time, those would-be actors, musicians and models. They usually got a little money in their bank accounts and left before they could do any damage to their “real” careers.

(Personally, Ruki didn’t see anything shameful in stripping. It was just another way to make a living, that’s all. Or, in his case, to support his art career when he was between sales to wealthy patrons.)

The newcomer was, according to gossip, yet another would-be actor. Had his picture in magazines a couple of times as part of a “star search” program. Was picking up some heavy interest from the regulars - which was nothing unusual. Interest always spiked in newbies when they first arrived, then the regulars usually went back to their favorites.

Ruki only started paying attention to said gossip when he was sitting in front of the mirror, putting on his makeup in preparation for going onstage. Two other dancers were behind him, talking about the new guy - Byou, he called himself.

“Oh, my God, is he hot,” the first dancer said. “Look, I don’t get affected by what I see here usually, but him? I think I had a boner like a telephone pole by the time he got offstage.”

“I hear you,” said the other boy. “That ass? Oh, my God. And that tongue? I’ve never seen tongue action like that onstage!”

Ruki suddenly snapped to attention. Tongue? Did they say tongue?

“He licked that pole like he was born doing it,” said the first dancer. “Oh, my God, he made me FEEL it. I’ll bet you could come just from watching him long enough.”

“I don’t know about that,” said the other dancer, “but I’d sure like to try it!”

They both laughed, leaving the dressing room and heading for the stage area.

Ruki just sat there, hands clenched, staring into the mirror.

Pole-licking was HIS trademark. It was how he’d first gotten noticed. It was what his regulars always told him they liked best about his act. This newbie . . . he had STOLEN his act.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. He’d watch it first. He’d determine if this Byou, this would-be actor, really had stolen his act.

And if he had? He’d kick his ass from here to Brazil, and back again.

* * *

Ruki pushed his way back into the main showroom. He’d just given one of his regulars a private lap dance upstairs. He had to admit he’d hurried through it a little so he could get downstairs to see this act. (Well, the guy still got off, and still gave him his full tip).

There was a cluster around the stage and an excited buzz in the air - apparently, word of mouth about this guy had spread quickly. Ruki even saw other dancers scattered around the room - Aoi, who was usually the club superstar, was off in the corner with his new love, Kazuki. The two of them were actually paying attention to the performances instead of each other - for once.

And then, the lights dimmed, and spots hit the stage, as music burst from the speakers - a sensual rock-blues groove, rather than the techno most of the dancers used. And from the wings emerged a creature so stunning that he flat-out demanded every eye in the room be on him.

He had hair down to his shoulders, with bangs, frosted blond. His eyes were piercing, his lips full and sensual. One would think he belonged on one of those big-screen TVs playing ads in the subway, not in a gay strip club.

Until, that is, he actually started to move. His body had a pantherlike grace that seemed the essence of sex itself. He slid the jacket he was wearing down his arms and let it fall to the floor, slowly, as if even gravity itself was cooperating with his show to make it hotter.

And, dammit, the emphasis was on hot. Ruki realized his body was getting warmer as he watched the newbie unbutton his shirt and let it fall. Of course, he would have an absolutely beautiful torso, to go with his absolutely beautiful . . . well, everything else.

The star of the moment grabbed the pole and twirled around it, giving the audience flirtatious glances. He unfastened his pants and pushed them down a little, then pulled them up again, then pushed them down.

Okay, so he was all-pro. Ruki had to give him that. He knew just how to tease, he got the audience to desire him. When the pants finally did come down, he bent over so that everyone could have the best possible view of his ass in the black, satin G-string.

And then he turned around, leaning over the pole, licking his lips - then began to lick the pole, slowly, as the audience whooped and cheered.

Fuck. Everything they were saying about this guy was true. He was an ace at this. He performed Ruki’s signature move as well he, himself did.

Suddenly, Ruki was filled with an emotion he couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time - jealous rivalry. Aoi’s status as the superstar didn’t bother him - they each had their own regular customers, and besides, their dance styles were very different.

This? Now, THIS was a threat. He sure as hell didn’t want to lose his hard-earned regulars to this guy.

Of course, there was another emotion inside him that he didn’t admit to feeling right away, either - an aching lust.

* * *

“I saw you watching the new guy last night,” Aoi said to Ruki as they got ready to go onstage, putting the finishing touches on their looks in the mirror.

“Yes, and?” Ruki said. “Lots of people were watching him.”

“You were watching him very intently,” Aoi said. “Studying him, in fact.”

“I’m entitled to study someone who steals my act,” Ruki replied.

“Steals?” Aoi said. “Kind of strong words, aren’t they?”

“You saw what he did,” Ruki said. “Same thing I’ve been doing since I got here.”

Aoi laughed. “You think you’re the only stripper who ever licked a pole before?” he said.

“Well, no,” Ruki said, “but I have a specific way that I do it, and he copied it!”

Aoi leaned over, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You gotta admit, he puts his own spin on it.”

“Fuck him!” Ruki snapped, slamming the lid back on a jar of foundation so hard it almost cracked.

“I’m tempted, but I have Kazuki,” Aoi said. “Besides, I think it’s what you want to do.”

“Me?” Ruki said. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe,” Aoi said, “but it’s the best kind of fucking crazy.” He sprung up from his seat. “See you downstairs. Maybe we’ll both end up catching Byou’s act tonight.”

Ruki just harrumphed at Aoi, finishing his makeup with harder strokes than was needed. Just wait until somebody stole HIS act - he’d see just how funny this kind of thing was.

* * *

He ended up watching Byou’s act night after night. The bastard knew how to change it up, performing different routines every night - to rock, to techno, with a lot of hip thrusting, with an emphasis on slow teasing before he shed his clothes.

But always, always, there was the pole-licking, and it always drove the audience wild.

Of course, it didn’t really have an effect on Ruki’s own act. They still whooped and yelled when he licked the pole, too. But there was still the nagging fear in the back of his head that the audiences would get tired of him, that they’d think out with the old, in with the new.

And so, Ruki began to think of new concepts, new methods for his own act. He changed it up a little - instead of using the pole, he’d bring out an old-school vaudeville cane, twirl it around, and lick it slowly, bottom to top.

He found himself wondering if his rival was watching him. Was he seeing the cane thing and wondering why he didn’t think of that? Was he mentally comparing his own act to Ruki’s?

Was he finding Ruki attractive at all?

Pretty soon, Ruki realized he was getting more applause than he ever did. Hell, he heard one audience member saying that he would challenge Aoi as the club superstar if he kept this up.

Now, that was a high compliment. Having Aoi as a rival? Oh, yes. Ruki could deal with that.

And it probably wasn’t anything that had been said about Byou yet, to boot, he thought - with more than a little satisfaction.

* * *

Ruki ended up talking to his rival face-to-face for the first time about two weeks after he’d arrived. He was packing up to leave for the evening when a voice above him said, “Hey.”

Ruki looked up from his bag. There was Byou, bigger than life and twice as gorgeous. “Hey yourself,” he said. And stop fucking stealing my act, he thought.

“You’re Ruki, right?” Byou said. “I heard Kazuki talking about you. You’re a friend of his boyfriend.”

Well, that was kind of a surprise. “You know Kazuki?” Ruki zipped the bag shut and slung it on his shoulder.

“We’re neighbors,” Byou said. “He told me about this place when I needed a job.”

Neighbors with Aoi’s boy toy? Interesting. An opportunity had opened up for Ruki to learn about his competition. “So I’m guessing you’ve done this kind of thing before?” “Not onstage. What about you?”

“If you mean, was I a stripper before I came here? I worked in another club for a couple of months. Then I came here when this place opened - it was closer to where I live. It’s just a way to supplement my real career, that’s all.”

“Real career?” Byou said, with genuine interest. Damn, why couldn’t Ruki take his eyes off him, even without his makeup? He was just standing there in a goddamn Addidas track suit and he was hotter than the surface of the sun.

“I’m an artist,” Ruki said. “Graphic arts, mostly. I get commissions, I get sales - and between them, I do this.” He didn’t want to say there had been a lot of “between them” lately. “And what about you?”

“I’m an actor,” Byou said. “I’ve had a few small parts here and there. Some stage work. Mostly going to a lot of auditions. And between them - “

“You work here?” Ruki said.

“Same as you,” Byou said. “Oh, and when you’d asked if I stripped before? I actually did - kind of. I played a stripper in a movie.”

“You did?” And suddenly, Ruki realized he wasn’t getting angry. He wasn’t going off on him for stealing his act. Hell, he was having a civil conversation with him - almost as if he wanted to be his friend.

What the hell was happening here? (Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge the desire burning in his stomach. Nope.)

Byou nodded. “Bit part in an independent film - a crime drama. There was a scene where the hero went into a gay strip club to find the suspect, I was the stripper onstage. The director choreographed my routine. He taught me how to do the pole-licking thing.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” And was that a surge of relief through Ruki when he realized Byou didn’t come up with it himself?”

“He said he based it on the best stripper he ever saw. A guy who had everyone in the place wanting him. He said he saw him at Club NIL.”

Ruki suddenly dropped his bag to the floor with a thud. “Wait a minute - did you say Club NIL?”

“Yes,” Byou said.

“How long ago was this?”

“About a year and a half ago, I think,” Byou said.

“Club NIL was the place where I used to work,” Ruki said. “And that was about a year and a half ago.” And as far as he knew, he was the only dancer who incorporated pole-licking into his act. “So the guy your director saw was . . .” And the full realization dawned. “Holy shit.”

“You?” Byou said. “The pole-licking dance came from you?”

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Ruki said. He’d thought that the other dancer stole his act, and in a way, he was right - but in another way, he was very wrong. What he thought was flat-out theft designed to undercut him was actually . . . an homage.

Byou laughed. “Holy shit. Now I know why you’re so hot onstage.”

Ruki did a double-take. “What was that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” Byou said. “Every night. It’s impossible for me to take my eyes off you. And you keep getting better and better.”

“I’ve been getting better and better to stay ahead of the competition.” He didn’t name said competition by name, of course, but Byou was a smart boy - he’d figure it out.

“And I’ve been getting better and better to keep up with you,” Byou said. He laughed again. Goddamn it, why did the sound of it have to be so adorable? It was almost like a torrent of giggles, a sharp contrast to his overheated demeanor - which made it all the more alluring.

There was a pause, and then Byou said, “We’re pushing each other, aren’t we?”

They were. They were pushing each other to be better dancers, to be more creative, to catch the audience’s attention. In a strange way, it had helped to better both of them.

And then, before Ruki knew it, he was blurting out “You know,” Ruki said, “some night after work, I’m going to invite you to have a drink with me.” And then, he realized he’d probably lost his mind. Ruki really didn’t drink. And all the other bars closed the same time as their club - with pretty much meant a drink at his place.

Which meant, of course, that anything could happen. Or, rather, he was inviting things to happen. And that was another thing he normally didn’t do - pick up guys he’d only known a couple of days.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the complete and total loss of Ruki’s sanity. Look out for exploding heads.

“Invitation accepted,” Byou said. “Just let me know.”

“Oh, I will,” Ruki said.

Okay, so he’d pretty much invited the new guy back for a fuck. Might as well give in to the madness. Make sure the apartment was dusted and there were clean sheets on the bed. Also, that he had a supply of condoms and lube.

And the craziest thing of all? How natural going from “I want to beat the crap out of him” to “I want to fuck the hell out of him” had seemed.

* * *

It was a couple of days later that Ruki offered the promised invitation. He’d finally gotten his place in order, complete with a couple of alcoholic drinks for Byou and Orangina for himself. (Deluding himself, of course. He knew damn well no alcohol would be swallowed - just come.)

He just asked casually, when passing the other man in the hall - “Hey, want to have that drink after work tonight? My place?”

“I’ll meet you backstage when we’re done,” Byou replied.

Well, that was fast. No hesitation. No thinking it over. Ruki wondered if Byou had gone as mad as himself.

Ruki watched his act with extra interest tonight, mind racing a mile a minute. He saw the other man roll his hips - he imagined being on his hands and knees in front of Byou, feeling him thrust deep and hard into his ass. If he caressed his chest, fingers lingering on a nipple, he imagined sucking that bud, licking it.

And when he ran that tongue along the pole, Ruki could feel it on his cock already, the heat and wetness enough to drive him wild.

Good Lord, he thought, if this keeps up, I’m going to have to go in the bathroom and jerk off before we leave here.

He managed to hold it together until the other man approached him in the dressing room, wearing one of those tracksuits, looking hotter in it than he would have if he were wearing a three-piece suit.

“I’m ready,” he said. “Are you?”

“Just a second.” Ruki stuck his cigarettes in the bag, zipped it up and rose to his full height (or lack thereof). “All right, we’re going.”

He led the newbie stripper down the steps and out the door. “It’s close enough that I can walk,” he said. “Told you I got this job because it was close.”

“Good,” Byou said. “I don’t feel like going far.” He hoisted his own bag up on his shoulder. “How did I look out there tonight?”

“Hot,” Ruki said. “Very hot, like normal. How do you do it?”

“I just imagine things,” Byou said. “You know, things I want to do, people I want to do them with. I was coming up with totally imaginary guys at first - until I realized the guy I wanted to do things with was watching me.”

Meaning, Ruki himself. Oh, hell. Byou was doing that sexy stage routine while imagining fucking him. And he found himself walking faster still.

Ruki reached his building and pushed the door open. He lived in a second-floor walkup. They both took the stairs two at a time. Ruki unlocked the door, stepped in . . .

And was quickly pushed against the wall, a pair of hot lips pressing on his.

Ruki suddenly froze - it caught him completely off-guard. But not for long - he began to kiss back hard, wrapping his arms around the other dancer and pulling him in. His tongue pushed forward, invading Byou’s mouth, moving around, exploring . . .

Holy shit, was this guy a good kisser. He knew when to attack and when to retreat, when to be dominant and when to let his partner take the lead. He seemed to anticipate Ruki’s next move, when he was going to dart and swirl his tongue, when he was going to pull it back.

They broke apart, and both of them were panting hard. Byou reached out with a rather shaky hand to brush it against Ruki’s face. (And Ruki took a bit of pride in that shakiness. He’d affected the other man as much as Byou had affected him.)

“Where is . . .” the other dancer said.

Ruki promptly grabbed his hand and dragged him across the apartment. He had a small bedroom off the living room/kitchen area - with a full, Western-style bed. The perfect setting for an encounter.

They entered the room, and he paused next to the bed, reaching out for the other man’s hands and guiding them to his body, to the buttons of his shirt. It was a demand to be undressed. Byou was so good at taking off his own clothes in front of an audience? Let’s see how he handled taking off someone else’s.

At first, Byou just unfastened the buttons slowly, his eyes still locked with Ruki’s, a smoldering gaze passing between them - challenging each other to bring it, to raise the level of passion to the max.

Then, Byou leaned over, pressing his tongue to the base of Ruki’s neck and starting to run it upward. Oh, FUCK. This wasn’t just a matter of licking - plenty of other lovers had done that to him.

No, this was a wet and sensual caress, the tongue not just stroking - it was exploring, finding little sensitive spots, pressing harder over them. He paused to brush his teeth over Ruki’s throat - the tiniest of nips - before he licked again, then kissed, then sucked one spot.

Ruki had to cling to Byou to keep from falling over. How the hell did he do that? How did he manage to turn Ruki’s neck, of all things, into a sex organ? The thrills running through his body were so intense that it was almost like he was getting a blow job.

He felt his shirt being pushed down his arms (wait, when did Byou finish unbuttoning his shirt?), and then, heard his zipper being pulled down. Good - his cock needed to be freed. It was so hard that it was threatening to burst from his pants.

When Byou pulled away, Ruki tumbled to the bed, and felt the last of his garments being stripped away. His partner moved back, unfastening his own shirt and pants, pushing them off . . .

Oh, no, he was not getting the upper hand like that. Ruki had plans for him. When Byou lay back down on the bed, Ruki wrapped his arms around him, kissing him fiercely and flipping them both over.

“So, you’re good with your tongue?” he said to the taller man. “So am I.”

He began to lick down his new lover’s neck - a rapid, wet trail, in contrast to the slow licking that he’d received. He moved down to his collarbone, where he paused, tracing the shape, nibbling a little, hearing him moan loudly.

Oh, yes. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. And he continued to lick downward, until his tongue encountered a nipple - which he encircled, slowly.

All those men in the club wanted to do this to you, he thought. And none of them can.

He wrapped his lips around it, sucking it hard, tonguing it. Byou’s nipples were delicious. He was getting a thrill just from the texture, from feeling the bud respond to him, hardening.

“Oh, yes, Ruki,” Byou moaned. “Like that . . .”

Ruki raised his head. “You like it?”

“Yes . . .”

Ruki licked one nipple, then the other. He felt Byou shudder beneath him, and a fresh shudder of desire ran through the smaller dancer’s body.

“You’re going to like this even more,” he said.

He began to move down, licking over his lover’s stomach, shifting his body so he was straddling the other man’s shoulders, his ass in the air as he leaned over.

Ruki reached his ultimate destination, and what a lovely cock he had to work with. He tongued the head, softly . . . oh, it felt good. Hot, with a graceful curve, shaped perfectly to slide into a lover’s lips.

And that is just what Ruki did, moving down on it, feeling it fill his mouth. He sucked on it, letting his full mouth experience the shape of it, the texture. Oh, how he loved doing this - the sensations, the musky scent and taste, and the way the other man always reacted.

That was almost as much of a turn-on to him as the sucking itself, hearing his lover moaning, writhing, begging him for more . . .

And moan Byou did as Ruki sucked him harder, moving his head back and forth faster, taking more and more of it in as his lover’s hands began to move over his ass, caressing it, squeezing it . . .

The hands left him for a moment. Ruki heard a faint squish, but it didn’t really register - he was concentrating too much on the cock in front of him. He slipped it out of his mouth and began to tongue it, licking up the shaft, then down, then up again . . .

He let out a gasp as a lubed finger began to slide into his entrance. What the fuck? When did he get the lube? Did he have it stashed next to the pillow all along? This bastard was getting the edge again, wasn’t he? He was . . .

Then, the finger began to move, curving just so, caressing Ruki from within, finding sensitive spots and stoking them to life, causing him to suddenly moan loudly, uncontrollably, his head falling down onto Byou’s thigh.

When the second finger pushed in, Ruki didn’t even mind the bit of pain, because the pleasure that followed was so fucking intense . . . the man knew the true meaning of finger-fucking. He wasn’t just opening Ruki up, he was possessing him, pleasuring him, teasing him for what was to come.

Ruki found himself thrusting backward, fucking himself on those fingers. Oh, it was so good, so fucking good . . . he couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed this part of sex so much.

He raised his head, knowing he had to give back as much pleasure as he was getting.

He began to trace his lover’s balls with his tongue, feeling the answering shudder, licking upward, extra-slow this time. He felt the differences in texture as he slid up to the bottom of the shaft, moving around and around, wanting to thoroughly learn every bit of him. But he had to be careful not to take him too far.

Ruki didn’t want Byou to come. Not until this cock was inside him. Those damn fingers had opened up a need in him that was so intense, it felt like every bit of him was on fire.

A third finger pushed into him as Ruki tongued his way around the head of Byou’s cock, trying to get the other man to moan as loud as he’d been moaning, to want him as badly as he wanted Byou.

They thrust into his body, and Ruki felt so filled he thought he was going to explode - but it was a very welcome kind of filled. Especially since he was brushing over extra-sensitive spots, then pulling out, then brushing again . . .

When the fingers pulled out of him, Ruki raised his head, turning his body around, preparing to straddle Byou’s hips. Instead, he found himself flipped over again, his lover on top of him, pulling his legs up and settling between them.

Byou leaned in for a kiss, and Ruki raised his head, pulling the other man down, kissing him hard - and then they pulled back, their lips separating, but their tongues coming out to rub each other. They flicked against one another, brushing and curving, a wet and sensuous dance.

When they pulled apart, Ruki said, “You’d better look like fucking me.”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Byou said. “I’ve wanted to have that ass since I laid eyes on it.”

“Not as badly as I’ve wanted that cock,” Ruki said, arching his hips upward - except Byou was pulling back just long enough to put on a condom and slick it with lube. Dammit - why did setting up for sex take so fucking long?

“Now,” Ruki said when Byou lay back on top of him. “I want to feel that thing in me.”

“Ask nicer?” Byou pushed a little bit inside him, just enough to drive Ruki crazier.

“All right - fuck me, please.” Another push. “Fuck me, please, goddamit!”

“If you put it that way . . .” And then, it was filling him. And filling him more. Dammit, he did this like he did everything else - with perfect timing. He moved maddeningly, deliciously slow, letting Ruki feel every bit of the hardness stroking him from within, opening him up slowly, minimizing the pain, maximizing the pleasure.

Ruki began wrapping everything he had around this man - arms, legs, drawing him in, holding him closer. Hell, if he could wrap his hair around him, he would.

They paused, breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes, the same burning, intense gaze as before.

Then, Byou said, with so much tenderness that it surprised Ruki, “You’re incredibly beautiful.”

Ruki blinked - the words broke the magic spell from their held gaze. “What?”

“I mean, lots of guys look beautiful onstage, but when you see them in their real lives, they put you off. You . . .” He reached up and gently brushed Ruki’s hair from his eyes. “You’re really beautiful. It’s like you radiate it.”

Okay, he’d been complimented on his looks before, but never quite in terms like that. “You think so?”

Byou leaned his forehead against Ruki’s. “I don’t say things like that to just everyone.”

Ruki swallowed hard. What the hell was that feeling in his throat? Oh, yes, it was his heart, trying to choke him. Suddenly, this wasn’t just about a casual fuck anymore. It was potentially the beginning of something more.

“You’re pretty beautiful yourself,” he said. “Hell, I can’t take my eyes off you. Ever. Onstage or off.” He reached for the hand that had been stroking his hair and threaded his own fingers through it.

There was a quiet moment, when they just clasped each other’s hands, tightening their fingers, as if they’d just grabbed onto something precious and were trying to hold onto it.

Then, Byou began to move, a slow, gentle thrust, the two of them still clasping hands, looking into each other’s eyes. Ruki felt a slow pleasure start to build inside him, because, yes, the perfect timing was still there, he knew what he was doing . . .

The rhythm began to pick up, and he thrust harder, faster, filling Ruki up, making him moan loudly. He raised his hips, thrusting against him, wanting to push him deeper, to be completely filled.

They kissed again, tongues rubbing against each other, as Ruki raised his hips, trying to change the angle, to feel stimulation everywhere, to have places stroked that hadn’t been stroked yet.

Byou flipped them over again, Ruki finding himself on top. He raised himself up so he was straddling his lover’s body, sitting on his cock - oh, what a sensation this was. He had complete control. He could thrust like he wanted, this way, that way, until he hit the spot that would make him moan the loudest.

He leaned his head back, eyes closed, focused on pleasure and sensation as he ground his hips downward, taking the hardness in him. Oh, yes, he felt so good, he fit his body so well, he was the best goddamn lover Ruki had ever had . . .

Ruki glanced downward at the man under him, bathed in sweat and flushed and moaning and beautiful. So fucking beautiful. He grabbed Byou’s hand, leading it to his cock, brushing the fingers against it.

His lover got the message. He grasped Ruki so firmly it made him gasp, but not hard enough to cause pain. And he started to stoke, rapidly, fingers darting here and there, making Ruki moan louder still.

“So good . . . “ he murmured. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m close, I’m so close . . .”

All it took was a few more strokes on his cock, with Byou’s hand twisting just so, just enough to put pressure on just the right places . . . and a hard thrust right down on the sweet spot, causing stars to explode behind Ruki’s vision . . . and he was coming, a burst of ecstasy so intense that he could only arch upward and let out a hoarse cry, not sure if he was going to be able to contain it all . . .

He felt Byou arch up against him, hard, and then heard the other man cry out as well, a long, sustained moan, until he relaxed, exhaling with a long, shuddering breath.

Ruki lay down next to him, drawing him into a kiss, and the men’s lips caressed each other softly. When they broke apart, Ruki leaned his head on Byou’s shoulder.

“Worth the wait?” he said.

Byou turned his head toward him, eyes still closed. “Hmmm?”

“You said you’d wanted my ass since you first saw it,” Ruki said. “Was it worth the wait to get it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Byou opened his eyes, giving Ruki a lazy gaze. “I hope you realize that’s not the last time we’re doing this tonight.”

“You think I’d stop at that?” Ruki yawned. “Only I need a nap now. You tired me the fuck out.”

“Good, that makes two of us,” Byou said.

“Need sleep,” Ruki murmured. “And then . . .”

He closed his eyes, not finishing the sentence. He felt his lover’s hands on his body, starting to clean him up. Well, that was nice. He couldn’t do it himself now, he couldn’t move.

He’d think about “and then” when he woke up. For now, he’d just be very, very glad he ended up with a rival.

* * *

“He didn’t come home for two nights?” Aoi said to Kazuki as they sat before the mirror, putting on their makeup - they were doing their dual strip act tonight, which always got the crowd going in a lucrative way.

“I always see him first thing when I wake up,” Kazuki said. “He goes down to get the mail the same time I do. Except he wasn’t there, and I started to see mail poking out the sides of his box - like it was piling up. And when he did come home . . .” He glanced around. “He wasn’t alone.”

“So?” Aoi said. “Lots of guys get laid, you know. This might come as a shock to you, but guys as hot as him get laid quite often.”

“It’s not just that - when he came home, the person who was with him was Ruki,” Kazuki said. “I tried to say something to them, but . . . they weren’t noticing. They were too busy making out.”

“Are you kidding?” Aoi said.

“I wouldn’t kid about that,” Kazuki said. “They were . . . it was like there was nobody else in the world.”

Aoi laughed. “So Mr. Nobody Licks A Pole But Me has fallen in love. With the other pole-licker, yet. This is too good.”

“I’m not sure they’re really in . . .”

“Oh, they’re in love, all right,” Aoi said. “If they didn’t even know you were there? They’ve got it bad for each other. If I see them . . .”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” came a voice from behind them.

Well, speak of the devil. Aoi and Kazuki turned around to see Ruki standing there, arms folded, gaze burning holes in them like his eyes were two smoldering cigarettes.

“There’s a rumor going around,” Aoi said. “Just a rumor, mind you. And it’s about you.”

“Oh?” Ruki said. “What kind?”

“It seems,” said Aoi, “that you’ve fallen in love.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.” Ruki sat down at another of the makeup tables.

“So you’re not denying it?” Kazuki said.

“I said that it’s none of your fucking business,” Ruki said, opening a jar of foundation and starting to go to work.

Aoi and Kazuki smiled at each other. They had all the proof they needed. And, quite frankly, they were happy for him. For both of them.

If they needed further proof, they got it later that evening - when a new double act debuted right after their own. Ruki and Byo brought down the house, too - especially when they pulled off each other’s clothes, and when they performed a tandem pole-licking, one man on each side.

If one tongue onstage was good, two were even better. And that went double for when they were offstage.