[team 1] not even a little
you'll need to have seen this picture first.
He wanted to try on Tegoshi's outfit. Just for the novelty of it, he told them as he tugged it on. Because I don't wear things like this often, he said as his legs squeezed into the pleather or whatever it was, slit in the thigh revealing everything (yet not enough). Mine is kind of like this, except I have a shirt over it, he said as he straightened the chains falling from what could count as a bra at this point, making them fall onto his (flat and gloriously toned) stomach neatly.
Shige can't decide whether he wants to bang his head against the wall or bang Massu. The former means hurting his head. The latter means public indecency and a disgustingly abnormal amount of PDA.
Or maybe he should hit Tegoshi, because the other blonde is practically drooling at the sight of Massu stuck in his concert outfit, putting his hands all over him, 'helping him get it on right' as a crude guise. The hussy.
This is all Massu's fault.
"Massu, can I speak to you for a minute?" Shige manages to get in between Tegoshi's raucous giggles and the jangling of belt buckles, of skin on leather, fake or otherwise.
Without waiting for an answer, Shige grabs Massu's hand and almost literally drags him out of the rehearsal room, taking a few turns in the mess of halls before feeling safe enough to kiss the living daylights out of Massu, one hand gripping him by the waist, the other winding its way into his hair -- just because he can. Massu reciprocates in kind, gently pushing Shige's back against the wall, using it as a bit of leverage to kiss him deeper. Truthfully, this may be Shige's worse idea yet because kissing Massu always leads to things, he thinks as he licks into the other's mouth, and it's not as if he doesn't know that --
Well, damn.
Shige pulls away, tampering down the shot of lust that bolts down his spine when he hears Massu's whimper at the loss. "You planned this."
And Massu replies innocent as ever, save for the way he licks his lips like he's ready to devour Shige like a piece of meat. "Planned what?" He tilts his head to the side, not unlike a puppy looking up at its owner, confused. "Putting on Tegoshi's costume to make you all hot and bothered so we can make out in a deserted hallway?" Massu's hands slip up underneath Shige's shirt, trails fingers along his spine. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he murmurs against Shige's lips.
"I hate you," Shige retorts.
Massu merely laughs. "No, you don't."
When Massu seals their lips together again, Shige inwardly sighs and gives up and gives in because no...no, he really, really doesn't, not in the slightest, not in the tiniest bit.
miquilis turn! :*
He wanted to try on Tegoshi's outfit. Just for the novelty of it, he told them as he tugged it on. Because I don't wear things like this often, he said as his legs squeezed into the pleather or whatever it was, slit in the thigh revealing everything (yet not enough). Mine is kind of like this, except I have a shirt over it, he said as he straightened the chains falling from what could count as a bra at this point, making them fall onto his (flat and gloriously toned) stomach neatly.
Shige can't decide whether he wants to bang his head against the wall or bang Massu. The former means hurting his head. The latter means public indecency and a disgustingly abnormal amount of PDA.
Or maybe he should hit Tegoshi, because the other blonde is practically drooling at the sight of Massu stuck in his concert outfit, putting his hands all over him, 'helping him get it on right' as a crude guise. The hussy.
This is all Massu's fault.
"Massu, can I speak to you for a minute?" Shige manages to get in between Tegoshi's raucous giggles and the jangling of belt buckles, of skin on leather, fake or otherwise.
Without waiting for an answer, Shige grabs Massu's hand and almost literally drags him out of the rehearsal room, taking a few turns in the mess of halls before feeling safe enough to kiss the living daylights out of Massu, one hand gripping him by the waist, the other winding its way into his hair -- just because he can. Massu reciprocates in kind, gently pushing Shige's back against the wall, using it as a bit of leverage to kiss him deeper. Truthfully, this may be Shige's worse idea yet because kissing Massu always leads to things, he thinks as he licks into the other's mouth, and it's not as if he doesn't know that --
Well, damn.
Shige pulls away, tampering down the shot of lust that bolts down his spine when he hears Massu's whimper at the loss. "You planned this."
And Massu replies innocent as ever, save for the way he licks his lips like he's ready to devour Shige like a piece of meat. "Planned what?" He tilts his head to the side, not unlike a puppy looking up at its owner, confused. "Putting on Tegoshi's costume to make you all hot and bothered so we can make out in a deserted hallway?" Massu's hands slip up underneath Shige's shirt, trails fingers along his spine. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he murmurs against Shige's lips.
"I hate you," Shige retorts.
Massu merely laughs. "No, you don't."
When Massu seals their lips together again, Shige inwardly sighs and gives up and gives in because no...no, he really, really doesn't, not in the slightest, not in the tiniest bit.
miquilis turn! :*