Fic: Hand in Glove [Byou X Ruki, NC-17]
Title: Hand in Glove
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure PWP Smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, glove fetishism, spanking
Pairing: Byou X Ruki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Ruki has always had a fetish for gloves, but he’s never explored it with a partner - until a chance encounter with Byou at a party.
Comments: Written for the Non-Body Fetishes square of my Penisy Kinks Bingo card.
Ruki realized that there was something very special about gloves from the moment he first put a pair on as part of one of his stage costumes.
There was just something about looking at his hands and seeing them covered with fabric, accentuating every part of his fingers, making every gesture he made seem all the more dramatic.
They gave his hands a power, an authority that they didn’t normally have. Ruki wasn’t all that crazy about the way they looked in everyday life - they seemed small and weak. But wearing gloves, they became powerful, majestic - and sexy. Definitely sexy.
He’d catch himself admiring the way they looked, flexing the fingers as he held a hand in front of his face. And sometimes, he’d do more than look. When his bandmates weren’t looking, he’d stroke his fingers lightly over his face, feeling the texture against his skin.
It seems they were always made of sensual material, either leather or something velvety. The touch of naked fingers was nice enough, the warm feeling of flesh on flesh, but with gloves included . . .
It was something extra-sensual. The feel of the material, the so-close-and-yet-so-far aspect of having a layer of cloth between you and your lover, the visual of the contrast between fabric and flesh . . .
Before long, his erotic fantasies were including lovers wearing nothing but gloves, touching him everywhere, running fabric-covered fingers along his thighs and stomach, wrapping around his cock and stroking. He imagined thrusting into the person’s hand, rubbing against the fabric, literally fucking the glove.
He’d have that image in his head during sex with one of his several friends-with-benefits, and sometimes, it was that image that made him come as much as what the other man was doing to him.
Ruki never directly asked any of his lovers to wear gloves for him during sex. He didn’t know how they’d react - it wasn’t exactly one of the more common kinks, like wanting to be tied up and blindfolded. (Not that he didn’t enjoy that as well). He didn’t want anyone thinking he had, well, a crazy fetish.
It didn’t feel crazy. Not to him. It was, well, personal. Gloves were, to him, objects of power, of charisma, of sex. It only made sense to bring them into lovemaking - right?
* * *
For some odd reason, most of his friends-with-benefits were other vocalists. (Then again, it wasn’t so odd when one considered that musicians tended to gravitate to others who had the same part in the band - guitarists to guitarists, bassists to bassists, and so on.) One of said friends, Ryoga, was giving one of his regular parties on a certain Friday night.
He pretty much begged Ruki to attend, even though Ruki said he wasn't exactly in the mood for partying. The band had been busy getting the new single ready, which meant Ruki was double-busy - the cover art was his responsibility. Not to mention he’d been finalizing the line of Black Moral merchandise for the tour.
But, fine, for Ryoga, he’d go, at least for a little while. He took a shower, put on makeup and started to get dressed . . .
And his eyes fell on something on the dresser. A pair of soft black leather gloves, a souvenir from a photoshoot. The stylists for these things always seemed to sense how much he liked those things, and let him keep them.
The stylists didn’t have to know that there were a couple of pairs of said gloves - the leather, easy-to-clean type - kept in his nighttable drawer for masturbation purposes.
This particular pair was, however, innocent, so to speak. Ruki picked them up and slid them on, admiring how they looked. If he was going to dress for the evening, might as well go all-out.
* * *
Byou was literally coming to the party straight from a magazine shoot. He hadn’t planned on going, but Ryoga was pretty insistent. He certainly didn’t want to turn down and upset a friend-with-benefits.
Well, the stylists had him looking good for the camera, there was no need to get changed into different clothes for the party. It was a nice outfit, too - a fitted suit, a tasteful assortment of bling, and a nice pair of long, black gloves. He’d just go as he was - he wasn’t planning on staying long, anyway.
He arrived and saw that the place was more crowded than usual - there was the usual suspects for these parties (Ryoga’s bandmates, guys from most of the other PSC bands) plus some new faces (a couple of BORN’s staff members, some non-PSC musicians here and there). Good, there were plenty of people to talk to if he felt sociable, and it would be easy to slip out of he got tired.
The course of his evening was altered, though, about half an hour later. He’d just gotten done talking with some people he hadn’t seen in while and was going to take a drink of his canned coffee, when he noticed something usual in the form of a few ashes around the perimeter of the hole.
He sighed. He’d set the can down when he was talking. Their host had been in the vicinity. Which meant . . .
“Ryoga,” he said, “did you use my can as an ashtray again?”
“Oh, you were still drinking that?” The BORN vocalist turned toward Byou with a look of faked innocence. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
Byou sighed. “You do this every time I come to one of your parties.”
“At least I’m consistent! Look, there’s more coffee in the kitchen. A whole bunch of cans.”
“I’m going,” Byou said, looking for a garbage can to toss his makeshift ashtray in. Well, he couldn’t find one. Guess he was going to have to look for that in the kitchen, too.
As he walked in, he saw Ruki rummaging around in the fridge, coming out with a can of coffee of his own. Byou smiled to himself. Now, here was an interesting twist to the evening. Ruki was always one of his favorite people to spend time with - especially when said time was spent naked and writhing on rumpled sheets.
“So you’re here for the same thing I am,” Byou said, walking over to Ruki. “You’re saving some coffee for me, aren’t you?”
“I’m not about to drink Ryoga’s entire stash. If I have that much caffeine, I might explode.” Ruki pulled out a can and held it toward the other vocalist. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Byou reached out and took it from him - and he noticed Ruki’s eyes going straight to his hands. Oh, yeah, the gloves. He should have taken them off before he left the shoot. “I came straight from work - photoshoot. A magazine article for the new album.”
“They did a good job,” Ruki said. “You look terrific.” He opened his can and drank from it. “I’ve been working, too. Doing the artwork for the single.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Byou said. “All the things you do for the band, I mean.” He knew that Ruki was not only the vocalist and lyricist, he wrote a huge share of the band’s music as well, plus handled the merchandise, plus developed the concepts for their PVs. It was one HELL of a workload.
“Sometimes? I don’t even know.” Ruki took a drink from his can. “Just a lot of energy, I guess. And a high tolerance for stress.”
Byou smiled. “That’s what we all need, isn’t it? A way to handle stress? Or at least blow it off?”
Oh, he was thinking of ways to handle his own stress, all right. Especially the “blow it off” part. He was very much looking forward to having the evening end with “blowing off.”
Only, why was Ruki still looking at his hands?
* * *
Byou was talking about the process of recording their new album. Ruki was listening with genuine interest, both of them still drinking canned coffee.
Ruki couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s hands.
Byou was wearing beautiful gloves. They fit his hands perfectly, making them look elegant and graceful. The material looked soft, velvety. And all Ruki could think about was having them all over his body.
The evening was going to end at one of their places, that was for sure, from the way they kept leaning in toward each other, the way their eyes locked from time to time - when Ruki could look away from his gloves, that is.
But would it, could it, end the way Ruki really wanted it to?
“So,” Byou finally said, “what brought you here tonight?”
“Ryoga pestering me with texts,” Ruki said. “What about you?”
“Same thing,” Byou said. “He seems to want us at his parties, doesn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Ruki said. “I wasn’t in the mood.”
“But are you glad you came now?” Byou was leaning in toward him, those sexy eyes seeming to burn with sensuality more than ever. Ruki was clearly being offered an invitation more intriguing than the one he’d gotten from Ryoga.
It was up to him to make the next move and seal the deal.
“That depends,” Ruki said, “on how the evening ends.”
“And . . .” Byou leaned closer to Ruki, so close he could almost feel the other vocalist’s breath on his face. “How would you want it to end?”
Ruki reached up and put his gloved hands on Byou’s shoulders. Yes, the gloves felt right, adding a layer of sensuality to a situation quickly heating up. “At my place,” he said. “With just you and me.”
“Good.” Byou reached up and put his gloved hands on top of Ruki’s, and to Ruki, it was as sexy as a kiss. “Because that’s how I wanted it to end, too.”
“We’re wasting time then, aren’t we?” Ruki said. He pulled away from the other man and headed for the door, giving a glance over his shoulder, an unspoken command to follow him.
They didn’t have to say goodbye to their host. He was busy with other people - and he’d probably figure out soon enough where they were. He’d been this route with both of them in the past.
* * *
They didn’t say a word in the short cab ride to Ruki’s place, though they clasped their gloved hands the whole time. Ruki kept looking down at them, at Byou’s velvet clutching his own leather.
Oh, the fantasies that were going through his head. That fabric on his naked skin, brushing over his nipples, running over his cock . . .
By the time they got into his apartment, he was burning up. Thank God Koron seemed to be asleep - he wasn’t stopping the momentum of this moment for anything. He led the way to his bedroom quickly, Byou following him - he’d been here before, he knew the way.
When they got to the bedroom, Ruki finally wheeled around, grabbed the other vocalist by the shirtfront and pulled them together, tilting his head upward for a kiss - which
Byou gave him, hard and wet, pushing his tongue into Ruki’s mouth, Ruki pushing back.
They wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their bodies together, Ruki pushing his hips forward, grinding himself against the other man . . .
And being very much aware of those hands starting to run over his hair, against his cheek. The velvety substance rubbed over his skin, so not-quite-smooth and delicious. He suddenly found himself pulling his mouth from Byou’s, turning his head . . . and pressing kisses into the palm of the glove.
Byou was startled. What was Ruki doing? He was kissing his hand, rubbing his cheek against it, then kissing it again, moving up the fingers, even letting his tongue flick against it a little . . .
Not that he minded. It was pretty damn hot, the fact that it was unexpected making it all the hotter. Ruki had never reacted like this to his hands before, though. Oh, he’d kissed and sucked his fingers, but never like . . . the word that crossed Byou’s mind was worship.
Yes, it was like worship, the way Ruki was thoroughly kissing each finger, brushing his cheek on them, then moving to the palm, kissing to the heel of his hand. It was almost like what he was interested in wasn’t just his hand, but the fact that he was wearing gloves.
Ruki raised his head, reaching up to clasp Byou’s hand, and said. “Leave these on . . . please.”
Leave them on? Why would . . . and then, an idea formed in Byou’s head, and a smile started to spread across his face.
He’d heard about clothing fetishes before, especially when it came to shoes or leather. This was the first time he’d experienced one firsthand, though - and it opened up some interesting and hot possibilities.
“Will you leave yours on, too?” he said.
“Yes,” Ruki murmured.
“Take the rest of your clothes off, then,” Byou said. “And get on the bed.”
Ruki pulled back, breathing heavily, fingers fumbling as he started to undo buttons and zippers. Oh, my God, he’d really done it, hadn’t he? He’d let Byou know what he was really interested in, and now . . .
He was going to get what he wanted, really wanted, what he usually just fantasized about during “normal” sex. If he’d known it was that easy, he would have done it a long time ago.
When he was naked, Ruki lay on his back, arms over his head, gloved hands resting on the pillow. He looked up at Byou shedding the last of his own clothes - except for what he was still wearing on his hands.
He lay down next to Ruki and reached out, fingers brushing the other man’s lips, tracing their outline with the gloves. Ruki quickly puckered, kissing the fingers as he had before.
This just spurred Byou on to go further. He began to run both hands down the sides of Ruki’s neck, down over his shoulders, letting his fingers trace his collarbones, dipping into the indentations.
“Mmmm,” Ruki murmured, closing his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of velvety gloves starting to sweep down his chest, rubbing his skin, moving in little, maddening circles - but not touching his nipples.
Not yet, anyway.
No, first the gloves were going to sweep over his belly, kneading the firm flesh, and then head for his legs, bypassing his cock entirely. They moved over his thighs, squeezing, his thumbs rubbing the sensitive flesh inside.
Byou had his eyes fastened on Ruki’s face the whole time he was doing this. There was such a blissful expression there - not like typical sex. No, this was like Ruki was lost in a private wonderland of his own - and that was turning Byou on almost as much as the contact of gloves on flesh, knowing he could give Ruki pleasure beyond normal pleasure.
“Oh, yes,” Ruki moaned as the glove ran all the way to the top of his leg, stopping just short of his balls, then moving down again. “Touch me . . .”
“Like this?” Byou ran his hands over Ruki’s knees, sliding down over his calves.
“Yes,” Ruki gasped, feeling the touch move down to his feet . . . yes, Byou was caressing those, too, hands gently squeezing the tops, moving down and caressing his toes.
“But you want more?” Byou said. “Maybe . . . a firmer touch?”
“Firmer?” Ruki raised his head.
“Turn over,” Byou said in his sexiest whisper. “Pull your knees up.”
Ruki obeyed, feeling his breath coming heavier - firmer touch?
He was rewarded by those lovely, gloved hands starting to slide over his ass, caressing the skin, the velvet slipping over firm curves. Byou paused in spots, squeezing harder, caressing, then brushing feather-lightly, then caressing again. Ruki let out a moan.
“You like this?” Byou whispered. “Soft and gentle, or . . .”
He raised his hand and delivered a sharp smack to one cheek, making Ruki yelp. He’d never been spanked with a glove before. The sensation was different - less of a sting, but more of a solid impact.
“More?” And Byou smacked the other cheek, drawing a gasp.
“Yes,” Ruki moaned. “Oh, my God . . .”
Byou drew his hand back, smacking Ruki again, and again, making his skin tingle and burn, but it was luscious . . . and then, he was caressing his ass softly again, the fabric running over sensitized nerve endings, making Ruki feel the velvet ten times more intensely than he did before.
The not-quite smoothness seemed to penetrate every inch of him, right down to his bones. When the fingers grasped him, squeezing the flesh, he pressed his fist to his mouth, eyes squeezing shut, a long, loud moan escaping him.
“Byou,” Ruki murmured. “Please . . .”
“Please, what?” More soft caresses. “Where else do you want to feel my gloves?”
“On my cock, I need it on my cock so badly . . .”
“Do you want me to make you come like that? Do you want to fuck my glove?”
“Yes!” Ruki gasped. “Yes, I want that . . .”
Byou leaned over and kissed Ruki’s ass, the sensation of his lips, of flesh on flesh, so different than the flesh-on-fabric of before. Ruki shivered.
“Turn over.”
Ruki flipped onto his back, panting, looking down at his own cock - it was so hard, so goddamn hard, and Byou hadn’t even touched it yet.
He didn’t touch it now. Instead, he brought his fingertips to Ruki’s nipples, running the gloves lightly over the buds. Ruki cried out, arching forward, and cried out again as they started to brush, velvet on hard little peaks.
“Oh,” Ruki moaned. “So good . . .” Byou began to rub his thumbs in little circles on the buds, and it was a little like the sensation of a tongue rubbing on him, and a little like a regular touch, and a lot like nothing he’d never felt before. He couldn’t even remember his fantasies being this intense.
“Tell me what you want next,” Byou murmured, squeezing Ruki’s nipples gently.
“I want your hand on my cock!” Ruki gasped. “Please!
“Do you?” Byou ran his hands slowly down the other man’s chest and stomach, pressing and rubbing and massaging.
“Yes!” Ruki gasped. “I need it!”
“Like this?” And he began to run his fingers very slowly up the side of Ruki’s erection, rubbing little circles on the sensitive flesh - and Ruki thought his head was going to explode.
He’d touched himself with gloves on before, plenty of times. That wasn’t like this. He knew where his own touch was going to go next. Byou’s fingers were slowly caressing everywhere, moving up and down the shaft . . .
“Lift your head,” Byou said, his voice carrying a wicked tone and a teasing lilt. The man knew how to play an audience, whether it was a pack of fangirls in a live house or a single man on the bed. “I want you to see.”
And Ruki did, watching Byou’s gloved fingers running slowly over the head of his erection, making little circles, tracing patterns. It was like watching his very own private porno.
Byou was fucking gorgeous - perfect face, perfect body. And those hands were beautiful even when they weren’t covered in cloth.
Now? They were more arousing to Ruki than an entire gallery of erotic art.
Those fingers were encircling him, entrapping his cock, the way Ruki had dreamed about so often. He could see the hand moving on his shaft, the velvety material slipping against every bit of his most sensitive flesh, encasing him in sensation.
Byou knew just how to touch, how to stroke, moving his hand slowly, then starting to gain momentum, twisting his hand a little, making more and more hot shivers run through him.
He was fucking Byou’s glove. He was moving his own hips, thrusting into it, plunging his cock into softness, not-quite smoothness, an assault of sensation. And Byou’s other hand was reaching up his chest, finding a nipple and stroking it again, sending more delicious tingles racing through his body.
Despite his resolve to watch, Ruki found himself falling back, eyes closed, mouth open, gasping and moaning. The fingers on his cock were moving faster, and his hips were moving harder, pushing himself against that fabric, the friction getting more intense . . .
“Come on,” Byou murmured, looking down at Ruki. “Just give yourself to it.” Oh, my God, Ruki was so beautiful, so hot right now. He was writhing on the sheets and making all sorts of noises, covering the hand on his nipple with his own, encouraging Byou to stroke it faster, harder, help drive him even faster toward ecstasy.
The visual of someone experiencing his fantasy was like nothing else he’d ever seen.
Byou’s voice was just another layer of the sensuality to Ruki, just making him writhe and moan all the more - until those fingers on his cock tightened on him oh-so-slightly. He thrust his hips forward, letting out an animal cry as an ecstasy so intense he thought he was going to fall apart shot through him, and he came into that glove, all over it.
Byou held onto him until the last shudders subsided. Then, he leaned over and kissed Ruki’s lips. “How was it?” he said.
Ruki couldn’t even form words. He just lay there, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Oh, wow. Oh, WOW. His fantasy had come true, all right - and it was even more intense than he thought it would be.
Byou nuzzled him. “This experience was a first for me,” he said. As in, he’d never been with a glove fetishist before. Well, he’d been with Ruki - he just didn’t know he was a glove fetishist. “It was pretty damn hot.” What an understatement. The notion that he was making someone’s fantasy come true, that he was doing something naughty and forbidden . . .
It all accounted for his own now-swollen and aching cock.
Ruki finally opened his eyes. “My God,” he murmured. He reached out for Byou . . . yes, Ruki was still wearing gloves, too. And his fingers encountered the other man’s erection.
He had to do something about that.
Ruki sat up. “Sit on the edge of the bed,” he murmured.
Byou shifted, legs slightly apart. “Like this?”
Ruki’s answer was to slide off the bed, onto the floor. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the other man’s hardness, letting Byou feel the touch of his own gloves.
Then, he opened his mouth and let his tongue slip out, and slide up the side of Byou’s hardness, and around the tip, and back down again.
“Aaaah,” Byou let out a long breath, reaching for Ruki’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair. Oh, yes, the man was a master at that. All his oral posing in public was no idle boast.
Ruki opened his lips, starting to slide down on the shaft. He had only one thing in mind - give back at least some of the pleasure he’d been given. It was the least he could do. He quietly resolved that he was going to find out what this man’s most secret fantasy was and give it to him - just like Byou had given him his own.
But for now, he moved his mouth up and down the other man’s erection, pulling it out to run his tongue back and forth over the tip, then taking it in his lips, sucking the head, then pulling it out to lick again.
He heard Byou’s moans growing louder and more intense, and it spurred him to suck harder, move his head faster, try to get more in . . . he felt it brush the back of his throat, and he moaned a little, knowing that he was getting it in as deep as he could.
Byou responded, too, hands grabbing Ruki’s hair, pulling it a little. “Oh, yes . . . just like that . . .”
Ruki pushed down hard again, relaxing his throat, taking him deep, and sucking, sucking, reveling in the musky smell and taste . . .
There was a loud groan, and a cry of, “Ruki . . . Ruki, I’m going to . . .” He heard a loud cry, and his mouth was flooded with hot fluid, which he swallowed gladly, eagerly.
He moved back up to the bed, beside Byou, and the men wrapped their arms around each other, tumbling to the mattress, kissing. They broke apart, foreheads leaning together, laughing.
“So how was your fantasy?” Byou said.
“Unbelievable,” Ruki replied, yawning. “Thank you.”
“I guess I can’t give these gloves back to wardrobe,” Byou said, holding up his still come-covered hand. Oh, yes, that glove was thoroughly ruined - but it had suffered a very happy ending.
“I’ll buy you more,” Ruki said, buying his face in the other man’s chest, not opening his eyes. He felt wonderfully languid and drowsy and just plain wonderful. Afterglow? This was an after-inferno.
“Will you buy me special ones, too?” Byou said, stroking Ruki’s hair.
“Depends on what you mean by special,” Ruki murmured.
“Ones to use . . . just for this.” Byou kissed Ruki’s forehead. “Just for you and me, alone.”
Ruki found himself shuddering a bit despite his sated condition. Glove play with Byou all the time . . . with satin gloves, leather ones, and maybe, just maybe, ones reserved just for Byou sticking his gloved fingers up Ruki’s ass . . .
Fucking AND getting fucked by gloves. Oh, YES.
“I’ll buy you all the ones you want,” Ruki murmured.
Or, rather, all the ones HE wanted. It was his fantasy, wasn’t it? Except they both got pleasure from making it come true. Maybe, in a way, it was Byou’s fantasy, too.
He’d have a hell of a fun time finding the answers to that. They both would.
* * *
Ruki woke up the next morning to a text from Ryoga. “I guess it’s not a coincidence that you and Byou left the party at the same time?”
“Nope,” Ruki replied. “And thanks for inviting us.”
“Damn,” the answer came back, “why does everyone get laid at my parties but me?”
“We might remedy that,” Ruki replied. A friends-with-benefits relationship was always flexible enough to accommodate more, and it wasn’t as if both of them weren’t sleeping with Ryoga anyway.
But the glove kink wasn’t going to be shared. That was just for the two of them.
He put the phone aside as Byou started to stir. “Hey,” he murmured.
“Hi,” Ruki said, nuzzling him. “You have work today?”
“Radio show,” Byou murmured, snuggling against Ruki. “Not till tonight. What about you?”
“Video editing. Starting at 3. Which means we have time to shopping.”
“For what?” Byou said, a touch of mischief in his voice.
Ruki took his hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “You know for what,” he said.
Byou smiled lazily. “I can’t wait.”
Yes, they were going to have a good time shopping, weren’t they? And then trying out what they bought later.
They might be friends with benefits, but some friends got more benefits than others.
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure PWP Smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, glove fetishism, spanking
Pairing: Byou X Ruki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Ruki has always had a fetish for gloves, but he’s never explored it with a partner - until a chance encounter with Byou at a party.
Comments: Written for the Non-Body Fetishes square of my Penisy Kinks Bingo card.
Ruki realized that there was something very special about gloves from the moment he first put a pair on as part of one of his stage costumes.
There was just something about looking at his hands and seeing them covered with fabric, accentuating every part of his fingers, making every gesture he made seem all the more dramatic.
They gave his hands a power, an authority that they didn’t normally have. Ruki wasn’t all that crazy about the way they looked in everyday life - they seemed small and weak. But wearing gloves, they became powerful, majestic - and sexy. Definitely sexy.
He’d catch himself admiring the way they looked, flexing the fingers as he held a hand in front of his face. And sometimes, he’d do more than look. When his bandmates weren’t looking, he’d stroke his fingers lightly over his face, feeling the texture against his skin.
It seems they were always made of sensual material, either leather or something velvety. The touch of naked fingers was nice enough, the warm feeling of flesh on flesh, but with gloves included . . .
It was something extra-sensual. The feel of the material, the so-close-and-yet-so-far aspect of having a layer of cloth between you and your lover, the visual of the contrast between fabric and flesh . . .
Before long, his erotic fantasies were including lovers wearing nothing but gloves, touching him everywhere, running fabric-covered fingers along his thighs and stomach, wrapping around his cock and stroking. He imagined thrusting into the person’s hand, rubbing against the fabric, literally fucking the glove.
He’d have that image in his head during sex with one of his several friends-with-benefits, and sometimes, it was that image that made him come as much as what the other man was doing to him.
Ruki never directly asked any of his lovers to wear gloves for him during sex. He didn’t know how they’d react - it wasn’t exactly one of the more common kinks, like wanting to be tied up and blindfolded. (Not that he didn’t enjoy that as well). He didn’t want anyone thinking he had, well, a crazy fetish.
It didn’t feel crazy. Not to him. It was, well, personal. Gloves were, to him, objects of power, of charisma, of sex. It only made sense to bring them into lovemaking - right?
* * *
For some odd reason, most of his friends-with-benefits were other vocalists. (Then again, it wasn’t so odd when one considered that musicians tended to gravitate to others who had the same part in the band - guitarists to guitarists, bassists to bassists, and so on.) One of said friends, Ryoga, was giving one of his regular parties on a certain Friday night.
He pretty much begged Ruki to attend, even though Ruki said he wasn't exactly in the mood for partying. The band had been busy getting the new single ready, which meant Ruki was double-busy - the cover art was his responsibility. Not to mention he’d been finalizing the line of Black Moral merchandise for the tour.
But, fine, for Ryoga, he’d go, at least for a little while. He took a shower, put on makeup and started to get dressed . . .
And his eyes fell on something on the dresser. A pair of soft black leather gloves, a souvenir from a photoshoot. The stylists for these things always seemed to sense how much he liked those things, and let him keep them.
The stylists didn’t have to know that there were a couple of pairs of said gloves - the leather, easy-to-clean type - kept in his nighttable drawer for masturbation purposes.
This particular pair was, however, innocent, so to speak. Ruki picked them up and slid them on, admiring how they looked. If he was going to dress for the evening, might as well go all-out.
* * *
Byou was literally coming to the party straight from a magazine shoot. He hadn’t planned on going, but Ryoga was pretty insistent. He certainly didn’t want to turn down and upset a friend-with-benefits.
Well, the stylists had him looking good for the camera, there was no need to get changed into different clothes for the party. It was a nice outfit, too - a fitted suit, a tasteful assortment of bling, and a nice pair of long, black gloves. He’d just go as he was - he wasn’t planning on staying long, anyway.
He arrived and saw that the place was more crowded than usual - there was the usual suspects for these parties (Ryoga’s bandmates, guys from most of the other PSC bands) plus some new faces (a couple of BORN’s staff members, some non-PSC musicians here and there). Good, there were plenty of people to talk to if he felt sociable, and it would be easy to slip out of he got tired.
The course of his evening was altered, though, about half an hour later. He’d just gotten done talking with some people he hadn’t seen in while and was going to take a drink of his canned coffee, when he noticed something usual in the form of a few ashes around the perimeter of the hole.
He sighed. He’d set the can down when he was talking. Their host had been in the vicinity. Which meant . . .
“Ryoga,” he said, “did you use my can as an ashtray again?”
“Oh, you were still drinking that?” The BORN vocalist turned toward Byou with a look of faked innocence. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
Byou sighed. “You do this every time I come to one of your parties.”
“At least I’m consistent! Look, there’s more coffee in the kitchen. A whole bunch of cans.”
“I’m going,” Byou said, looking for a garbage can to toss his makeshift ashtray in. Well, he couldn’t find one. Guess he was going to have to look for that in the kitchen, too.
As he walked in, he saw Ruki rummaging around in the fridge, coming out with a can of coffee of his own. Byou smiled to himself. Now, here was an interesting twist to the evening. Ruki was always one of his favorite people to spend time with - especially when said time was spent naked and writhing on rumpled sheets.
“So you’re here for the same thing I am,” Byou said, walking over to Ruki. “You’re saving some coffee for me, aren’t you?”
“I’m not about to drink Ryoga’s entire stash. If I have that much caffeine, I might explode.” Ruki pulled out a can and held it toward the other vocalist. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Byou reached out and took it from him - and he noticed Ruki’s eyes going straight to his hands. Oh, yeah, the gloves. He should have taken them off before he left the shoot. “I came straight from work - photoshoot. A magazine article for the new album.”
“They did a good job,” Ruki said. “You look terrific.” He opened his can and drank from it. “I’ve been working, too. Doing the artwork for the single.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Byou said. “All the things you do for the band, I mean.” He knew that Ruki was not only the vocalist and lyricist, he wrote a huge share of the band’s music as well, plus handled the merchandise, plus developed the concepts for their PVs. It was one HELL of a workload.
“Sometimes? I don’t even know.” Ruki took a drink from his can. “Just a lot of energy, I guess. And a high tolerance for stress.”
Byou smiled. “That’s what we all need, isn’t it? A way to handle stress? Or at least blow it off?”
Oh, he was thinking of ways to handle his own stress, all right. Especially the “blow it off” part. He was very much looking forward to having the evening end with “blowing off.”
Only, why was Ruki still looking at his hands?
* * *
Byou was talking about the process of recording their new album. Ruki was listening with genuine interest, both of them still drinking canned coffee.
Ruki couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s hands.
Byou was wearing beautiful gloves. They fit his hands perfectly, making them look elegant and graceful. The material looked soft, velvety. And all Ruki could think about was having them all over his body.
The evening was going to end at one of their places, that was for sure, from the way they kept leaning in toward each other, the way their eyes locked from time to time - when Ruki could look away from his gloves, that is.
But would it, could it, end the way Ruki really wanted it to?
“So,” Byou finally said, “what brought you here tonight?”
“Ryoga pestering me with texts,” Ruki said. “What about you?”
“Same thing,” Byou said. “He seems to want us at his parties, doesn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Ruki said. “I wasn’t in the mood.”
“But are you glad you came now?” Byou was leaning in toward him, those sexy eyes seeming to burn with sensuality more than ever. Ruki was clearly being offered an invitation more intriguing than the one he’d gotten from Ryoga.
It was up to him to make the next move and seal the deal.
“That depends,” Ruki said, “on how the evening ends.”
“And . . .” Byou leaned closer to Ruki, so close he could almost feel the other vocalist’s breath on his face. “How would you want it to end?”
Ruki reached up and put his gloved hands on Byou’s shoulders. Yes, the gloves felt right, adding a layer of sensuality to a situation quickly heating up. “At my place,” he said. “With just you and me.”
“Good.” Byou reached up and put his gloved hands on top of Ruki’s, and to Ruki, it was as sexy as a kiss. “Because that’s how I wanted it to end, too.”
“We’re wasting time then, aren’t we?” Ruki said. He pulled away from the other man and headed for the door, giving a glance over his shoulder, an unspoken command to follow him.
They didn’t have to say goodbye to their host. He was busy with other people - and he’d probably figure out soon enough where they were. He’d been this route with both of them in the past.
* * *
They didn’t say a word in the short cab ride to Ruki’s place, though they clasped their gloved hands the whole time. Ruki kept looking down at them, at Byou’s velvet clutching his own leather.
Oh, the fantasies that were going through his head. That fabric on his naked skin, brushing over his nipples, running over his cock . . .
By the time they got into his apartment, he was burning up. Thank God Koron seemed to be asleep - he wasn’t stopping the momentum of this moment for anything. He led the way to his bedroom quickly, Byou following him - he’d been here before, he knew the way.
When they got to the bedroom, Ruki finally wheeled around, grabbed the other vocalist by the shirtfront and pulled them together, tilting his head upward for a kiss - which
Byou gave him, hard and wet, pushing his tongue into Ruki’s mouth, Ruki pushing back.
They wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their bodies together, Ruki pushing his hips forward, grinding himself against the other man . . .
And being very much aware of those hands starting to run over his hair, against his cheek. The velvety substance rubbed over his skin, so not-quite-smooth and delicious. He suddenly found himself pulling his mouth from Byou’s, turning his head . . . and pressing kisses into the palm of the glove.
Byou was startled. What was Ruki doing? He was kissing his hand, rubbing his cheek against it, then kissing it again, moving up the fingers, even letting his tongue flick against it a little . . .
Not that he minded. It was pretty damn hot, the fact that it was unexpected making it all the hotter. Ruki had never reacted like this to his hands before, though. Oh, he’d kissed and sucked his fingers, but never like . . . the word that crossed Byou’s mind was worship.
Yes, it was like worship, the way Ruki was thoroughly kissing each finger, brushing his cheek on them, then moving to the palm, kissing to the heel of his hand. It was almost like what he was interested in wasn’t just his hand, but the fact that he was wearing gloves.
Ruki raised his head, reaching up to clasp Byou’s hand, and said. “Leave these on . . . please.”
Leave them on? Why would . . . and then, an idea formed in Byou’s head, and a smile started to spread across his face.
He’d heard about clothing fetishes before, especially when it came to shoes or leather. This was the first time he’d experienced one firsthand, though - and it opened up some interesting and hot possibilities.
“Will you leave yours on, too?” he said.
“Yes,” Ruki murmured.
“Take the rest of your clothes off, then,” Byou said. “And get on the bed.”
Ruki pulled back, breathing heavily, fingers fumbling as he started to undo buttons and zippers. Oh, my God, he’d really done it, hadn’t he? He’d let Byou know what he was really interested in, and now . . .
He was going to get what he wanted, really wanted, what he usually just fantasized about during “normal” sex. If he’d known it was that easy, he would have done it a long time ago.
When he was naked, Ruki lay on his back, arms over his head, gloved hands resting on the pillow. He looked up at Byou shedding the last of his own clothes - except for what he was still wearing on his hands.
He lay down next to Ruki and reached out, fingers brushing the other man’s lips, tracing their outline with the gloves. Ruki quickly puckered, kissing the fingers as he had before.
This just spurred Byou on to go further. He began to run both hands down the sides of Ruki’s neck, down over his shoulders, letting his fingers trace his collarbones, dipping into the indentations.
“Mmmm,” Ruki murmured, closing his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of velvety gloves starting to sweep down his chest, rubbing his skin, moving in little, maddening circles - but not touching his nipples.
Not yet, anyway.
No, first the gloves were going to sweep over his belly, kneading the firm flesh, and then head for his legs, bypassing his cock entirely. They moved over his thighs, squeezing, his thumbs rubbing the sensitive flesh inside.
Byou had his eyes fastened on Ruki’s face the whole time he was doing this. There was such a blissful expression there - not like typical sex. No, this was like Ruki was lost in a private wonderland of his own - and that was turning Byou on almost as much as the contact of gloves on flesh, knowing he could give Ruki pleasure beyond normal pleasure.
“Oh, yes,” Ruki moaned as the glove ran all the way to the top of his leg, stopping just short of his balls, then moving down again. “Touch me . . .”
“Like this?” Byou ran his hands over Ruki’s knees, sliding down over his calves.
“Yes,” Ruki gasped, feeling the touch move down to his feet . . . yes, Byou was caressing those, too, hands gently squeezing the tops, moving down and caressing his toes.
“But you want more?” Byou said. “Maybe . . . a firmer touch?”
“Firmer?” Ruki raised his head.
“Turn over,” Byou said in his sexiest whisper. “Pull your knees up.”
Ruki obeyed, feeling his breath coming heavier - firmer touch?
He was rewarded by those lovely, gloved hands starting to slide over his ass, caressing the skin, the velvet slipping over firm curves. Byou paused in spots, squeezing harder, caressing, then brushing feather-lightly, then caressing again. Ruki let out a moan.
“You like this?” Byou whispered. “Soft and gentle, or . . .”
He raised his hand and delivered a sharp smack to one cheek, making Ruki yelp. He’d never been spanked with a glove before. The sensation was different - less of a sting, but more of a solid impact.
“More?” And Byou smacked the other cheek, drawing a gasp.
“Yes,” Ruki moaned. “Oh, my God . . .”
Byou drew his hand back, smacking Ruki again, and again, making his skin tingle and burn, but it was luscious . . . and then, he was caressing his ass softly again, the fabric running over sensitized nerve endings, making Ruki feel the velvet ten times more intensely than he did before.
The not-quite smoothness seemed to penetrate every inch of him, right down to his bones. When the fingers grasped him, squeezing the flesh, he pressed his fist to his mouth, eyes squeezing shut, a long, loud moan escaping him.
“Byou,” Ruki murmured. “Please . . .”
“Please, what?” More soft caresses. “Where else do you want to feel my gloves?”
“On my cock, I need it on my cock so badly . . .”
“Do you want me to make you come like that? Do you want to fuck my glove?”
“Yes!” Ruki gasped. “Yes, I want that . . .”
Byou leaned over and kissed Ruki’s ass, the sensation of his lips, of flesh on flesh, so different than the flesh-on-fabric of before. Ruki shivered.
“Turn over.”
Ruki flipped onto his back, panting, looking down at his own cock - it was so hard, so goddamn hard, and Byou hadn’t even touched it yet.
He didn’t touch it now. Instead, he brought his fingertips to Ruki’s nipples, running the gloves lightly over the buds. Ruki cried out, arching forward, and cried out again as they started to brush, velvet on hard little peaks.
“Oh,” Ruki moaned. “So good . . .” Byou began to rub his thumbs in little circles on the buds, and it was a little like the sensation of a tongue rubbing on him, and a little like a regular touch, and a lot like nothing he’d never felt before. He couldn’t even remember his fantasies being this intense.
“Tell me what you want next,” Byou murmured, squeezing Ruki’s nipples gently.
“I want your hand on my cock!” Ruki gasped. “Please!
“Do you?” Byou ran his hands slowly down the other man’s chest and stomach, pressing and rubbing and massaging.
“Yes!” Ruki gasped. “I need it!”
“Like this?” And he began to run his fingers very slowly up the side of Ruki’s erection, rubbing little circles on the sensitive flesh - and Ruki thought his head was going to explode.
He’d touched himself with gloves on before, plenty of times. That wasn’t like this. He knew where his own touch was going to go next. Byou’s fingers were slowly caressing everywhere, moving up and down the shaft . . .
“Lift your head,” Byou said, his voice carrying a wicked tone and a teasing lilt. The man knew how to play an audience, whether it was a pack of fangirls in a live house or a single man on the bed. “I want you to see.”
And Ruki did, watching Byou’s gloved fingers running slowly over the head of his erection, making little circles, tracing patterns. It was like watching his very own private porno.
Byou was fucking gorgeous - perfect face, perfect body. And those hands were beautiful even when they weren’t covered in cloth.
Now? They were more arousing to Ruki than an entire gallery of erotic art.
Those fingers were encircling him, entrapping his cock, the way Ruki had dreamed about so often. He could see the hand moving on his shaft, the velvety material slipping against every bit of his most sensitive flesh, encasing him in sensation.
Byou knew just how to touch, how to stroke, moving his hand slowly, then starting to gain momentum, twisting his hand a little, making more and more hot shivers run through him.
He was fucking Byou’s glove. He was moving his own hips, thrusting into it, plunging his cock into softness, not-quite smoothness, an assault of sensation. And Byou’s other hand was reaching up his chest, finding a nipple and stroking it again, sending more delicious tingles racing through his body.
Despite his resolve to watch, Ruki found himself falling back, eyes closed, mouth open, gasping and moaning. The fingers on his cock were moving faster, and his hips were moving harder, pushing himself against that fabric, the friction getting more intense . . .
“Come on,” Byou murmured, looking down at Ruki. “Just give yourself to it.” Oh, my God, Ruki was so beautiful, so hot right now. He was writhing on the sheets and making all sorts of noises, covering the hand on his nipple with his own, encouraging Byou to stroke it faster, harder, help drive him even faster toward ecstasy.
The visual of someone experiencing his fantasy was like nothing else he’d ever seen.
Byou’s voice was just another layer of the sensuality to Ruki, just making him writhe and moan all the more - until those fingers on his cock tightened on him oh-so-slightly. He thrust his hips forward, letting out an animal cry as an ecstasy so intense he thought he was going to fall apart shot through him, and he came into that glove, all over it.
Byou held onto him until the last shudders subsided. Then, he leaned over and kissed Ruki’s lips. “How was it?” he said.
Ruki couldn’t even form words. He just lay there, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Oh, wow. Oh, WOW. His fantasy had come true, all right - and it was even more intense than he thought it would be.
Byou nuzzled him. “This experience was a first for me,” he said. As in, he’d never been with a glove fetishist before. Well, he’d been with Ruki - he just didn’t know he was a glove fetishist. “It was pretty damn hot.” What an understatement. The notion that he was making someone’s fantasy come true, that he was doing something naughty and forbidden . . .
It all accounted for his own now-swollen and aching cock.
Ruki finally opened his eyes. “My God,” he murmured. He reached out for Byou . . . yes, Ruki was still wearing gloves, too. And his fingers encountered the other man’s erection.
He had to do something about that.
Ruki sat up. “Sit on the edge of the bed,” he murmured.
Byou shifted, legs slightly apart. “Like this?”
Ruki’s answer was to slide off the bed, onto the floor. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the other man’s hardness, letting Byou feel the touch of his own gloves.
Then, he opened his mouth and let his tongue slip out, and slide up the side of Byou’s hardness, and around the tip, and back down again.
“Aaaah,” Byou let out a long breath, reaching for Ruki’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair. Oh, yes, the man was a master at that. All his oral posing in public was no idle boast.
Ruki opened his lips, starting to slide down on the shaft. He had only one thing in mind - give back at least some of the pleasure he’d been given. It was the least he could do. He quietly resolved that he was going to find out what this man’s most secret fantasy was and give it to him - just like Byou had given him his own.
But for now, he moved his mouth up and down the other man’s erection, pulling it out to run his tongue back and forth over the tip, then taking it in his lips, sucking the head, then pulling it out to lick again.
He heard Byou’s moans growing louder and more intense, and it spurred him to suck harder, move his head faster, try to get more in . . . he felt it brush the back of his throat, and he moaned a little, knowing that he was getting it in as deep as he could.
Byou responded, too, hands grabbing Ruki’s hair, pulling it a little. “Oh, yes . . . just like that . . .”
Ruki pushed down hard again, relaxing his throat, taking him deep, and sucking, sucking, reveling in the musky smell and taste . . .
There was a loud groan, and a cry of, “Ruki . . . Ruki, I’m going to . . .” He heard a loud cry, and his mouth was flooded with hot fluid, which he swallowed gladly, eagerly.
He moved back up to the bed, beside Byou, and the men wrapped their arms around each other, tumbling to the mattress, kissing. They broke apart, foreheads leaning together, laughing.
“So how was your fantasy?” Byou said.
“Unbelievable,” Ruki replied, yawning. “Thank you.”
“I guess I can’t give these gloves back to wardrobe,” Byou said, holding up his still come-covered hand. Oh, yes, that glove was thoroughly ruined - but it had suffered a very happy ending.
“I’ll buy you more,” Ruki said, buying his face in the other man’s chest, not opening his eyes. He felt wonderfully languid and drowsy and just plain wonderful. Afterglow? This was an after-inferno.
“Will you buy me special ones, too?” Byou said, stroking Ruki’s hair.
“Depends on what you mean by special,” Ruki murmured.
“Ones to use . . . just for this.” Byou kissed Ruki’s forehead. “Just for you and me, alone.”
Ruki found himself shuddering a bit despite his sated condition. Glove play with Byou all the time . . . with satin gloves, leather ones, and maybe, just maybe, ones reserved just for Byou sticking his gloved fingers up Ruki’s ass . . .
Fucking AND getting fucked by gloves. Oh, YES.
“I’ll buy you all the ones you want,” Ruki murmured.
Or, rather, all the ones HE wanted. It was his fantasy, wasn’t it? Except they both got pleasure from making it come true. Maybe, in a way, it was Byou’s fantasy, too.
He’d have a hell of a fun time finding the answers to that. They both would.
* * *
Ruki woke up the next morning to a text from Ryoga. “I guess it’s not a coincidence that you and Byou left the party at the same time?”
“Nope,” Ruki replied. “And thanks for inviting us.”
“Damn,” the answer came back, “why does everyone get laid at my parties but me?”
“We might remedy that,” Ruki replied. A friends-with-benefits relationship was always flexible enough to accommodate more, and it wasn’t as if both of them weren’t sleeping with Ryoga anyway.
But the glove kink wasn’t going to be shared. That was just for the two of them.
He put the phone aside as Byou started to stir. “Hey,” he murmured.
“Hi,” Ruki said, nuzzling him. “You have work today?”
“Radio show,” Byou murmured, snuggling against Ruki. “Not till tonight. What about you?”
“Video editing. Starting at 3. Which means we have time to shopping.”
“For what?” Byou said, a touch of mischief in his voice.
Ruki took his hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “You know for what,” he said.
Byou smiled lazily. “I can’t wait.”
Yes, they were going to have a good time shopping, weren’t they? And then trying out what they bought later.
They might be friends with benefits, but some friends got more benefits than others.