another wishlist fill
This was written for je_levy: 8. Nakamaru instigating any form of gunplay with Ueda, Koki, or Junno.
It was a blast, and also I learned things. Maybe.
Private Game
Nakamaru Yuichi/Taguchi Junnosuke
NC-17-- gunplay, and the fact that google gave me what scant knowledge i have of the workings of real/replica guns, maybe a General appearance
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
Nakamaru enjoyed his survival games; he loved them especially when he could get Koki or Taguchi to come along. There was nothing like the exhilaration of winning matches.
Nothing except the way he sometimes caught fleeting glimpses of something like hunger flash through Taguchi’s eyes as Nakamaru’s fingers danced along the barrel of his pistol while dismantling it to painstakingly clean it after games.
That look happened often enough to spark an idea, one that Nakamaru normally wouldn’t have nurtured. It was an idea that made him glad that they played their games in a secluded area, that they made weekends of them and rented rooms.
*
Nakamaru considered all of the things that could go wrong; still it was such an enticing thing. Perhaps he could at the very least have Taguchi inspect the gun under pretense of making sure he’d put it back together correctly. At least then he’d have had someone verify that it was unloaded.
*
They had all been so busy lately, but finally a chance to take a break appeared, and Nakamaru jumped at the chance to book a few days at their usual field.
Koki declined Nakamaru’s invitation, claiming he had a string of hot dates with his bed. That was fine with him, especially since that left him a chance to try out his idea on Taguchi. Nakamaru wasn’t sure that it would be something Koki would be into, anyway.
*
The game passed in a blur, Nakamaru easily slipping into autopilot. It was almost too easy, their win this time. For once, though, the win wasn’t the prize Nakamaru was looking for.
Nakamaru strode along the path back to their room, Taguchi following quietly. Survival games seemed to be the only time he ever stayed quiet; Nakamaru wondered if that would hold true later.
The two of them entered Nakamaru’s room, piling their gear on the table. Wordlessly Nakamaru took a seat and began dismantling his guns. He glanced up, catching Taguchi watching him. Taguchi looked away, then began busying himself with his own gear. He missed Nakamaru’s brief smirk.
The only sounds in the room were the whisper of cloth running along barrels and the quiet clink of metal sliding into place, the faint scent of silicone oil lingering in the air. Final piece clean and locked into place, Nakamaru cleared his throat, sliding the pistol by the barrel across the table. Taguchi looked up, eyes questioning.
“Taguchi, I need you to dismantle this, and put it back together for me.” Nakamaru’s voice was soft and impassive, gaze steady.
Nakamaru was pleased with the way Taguchi nodded and reached for the pistol, carefully wrapping his fingers around the grip. Taguchi released the magazine and methodically unlocked the barrel, sliding it off. The pieces were set aside for the moment, and he pulled the slide from the frame. He laid the dismantled gun on the table, moving his hands out of the way for Nakamaru’s approval.
Nakamaru smiled, curtly nodding. Taguchi reassembled the gun quickly; he finally spoke as he clicked the magazine home. “It’s completely empty. I’ve engaged all of the safeties as well.”
Perfect. Nakamaru stood, stepping around the table and straightening his shoulders as he took the gun from Taguchi. He inspected it once more, satisfied that the safeties were in order, then raised it. A curl of deep satisfaction roiled through his gut as Taguchi’s eyes widened and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.
“I want you to stand, Taguchi, and strip. Slowly, you know.” Nakamaru couldn’t help smirking down at him.
Taguchi obeyed, unzipping his vest and dropping it over the back of his chair. His thin t-shirt followed shortly, and Nakamaru motioned with the gun to continue. Hands just the slightest bit shaky, Taguchi dropped to one knee to undo his bootlaces and stood to kick them off. He swallowed thickly, unbuckling his belt; a nearly imperceptible nod prompted him to push his trousers down and step out of them.
“Continue,” Nakamaru spoke, still quiet and perfectly under control. He could see the raw want in the way Taguchi’s eyes shimmered, nearly black in the last rays of sunlight peeking through the window.
Taguchi looked down, then nodded and slid his boxer briefs below his hips, letting them fall. He steadied himself with a hand against the edge of the table and pulled his socks off, then straightened and held Nakamaru’s gaze.
Nakamaru stepped forward, gun still trained on Taguchi. Such a wonderful feeling, to have someone so pliant; of course, the gun probably helped to make that happen. He pressed the barrel against Taguchi’s navel, sliding it upward between his pectorals and stopping at his adam’s apple. “Am I correct in my assumption that you’re amenable to anything that happens between us this evening? I have caught you staring, before, just so you’re aware,” Nakamaru spoke slowly, making sure his words were clear.
“Nakamaru-kun, I-- ” Taguchi began, then shut his mouth and reconsidered. “Yes, sir. Please order me as you will.”
The words sent a thrill through Nakamaru. He dragged the gun along Taguchi’s collarbone, digging into the junction of his neck and shoulder, and pressed down. Taguchi promptly dropped to his knees, eyes trained on the toes of Nakamaru’s boots and hands at his sides. Nakamaru slipped the gun under Taguchi’s chin, pressing up in a silent order to look up at him.
“Suck me,” Nakamaru spoke softly, but the press of the gun turned it into an irrefutable order.
Taguchi’s hands ghosted their way up Nakamaru’s thighs, settling at his belt buckle and undoing it and the zipper in one smooth movement. He freed Nakamaru from his underwear, quickly stroking him to full hardness before flicking his tongue along the underside.
Nakamaru jabbed the gun’s barrel into the side of Taguchi’s neck, snaking his free hand into Taguchi’s hair and holding him in place by the back of his skull. “You’ll do it properly, with no teasing,” he hissed.
The words seemed to galvanize Taguchi into action as he leaned forward to take Nakamaru into his mouth as best he could, wrapping his hand around the base. His other hand gripped Nakamaru’s thigh, grip as tight as he dared. He began sucking slowly, cheeks hollowing as he fell into a comfortable rhythm of alternating strokes with suction, moaning deep in his throat. The vibrations around his cock pulled an answering moan from Nakamaru, and he used his grip on Taguchi’s hair to pull him off his dick and to his feet.
“Bend over the table, legs spread.” Nakamaru’s voice was a deep rumble as he punctuated his words with the gun. He released Taguchi, watching as he complied. Nakamaru took the opportunity to holster his gun and pull a condom from a pocket, tearing it open and rolling it on. He made a show of grabbing the gun lubricant he’d left on the table, smirking at the way Taguchi gasped and squirmed, attempting to keep from rutting up against the table edge.
Nakamaru stepped behind Taguchi and out of his line of sight, slipping the silicone oil into a pocket and exchanging it for a proper lubricant, delighting in the shiver that ran along Taguchi’s spine at the sound of the cap popping. Before he slicked his fingers, Nakamaru pulled his gun from its holster and ran it down the knobs of Taguchi’s spine, watching the way he writhed until his gun made its way to his crease. Taguchi stilled then, scarcely breathing, fists clenched against the table.
Just to be the tiniest bit cruel, Nakamaru dragged it down, pressing the muzzle against Taguchi’s perineum before nudging his legs further apart. “Stay,” he whispered.
The order was hardly necessary, as Taguchi barely dared to breathe, breaths coming shallowly. Still clenching the gun in one hand, Nakamaru drizzled the lubricant along the crease of Taguchi’s ass, unmindful of the mess it made as the excess dribbled to the floor. One-handed, Nakamaru closed the cap and then dragged two fingers along the mess before spreading him open, cold plastic and metal in his clean hand raising goosebumps along Taguchi’s flank.
Nakamaru took his time, enjoying the increasingly frantic noises that Taguchi was unable to stifle, lazily drawing a circle around his rim. Once it seemed that Taguchi was on the verge of pleading, Nakamaru slipped a finger in, marveling at the tightness. He wiggled it around, pulling back before slowly adding another finger.
Knuckle-deep in Taguchi, Nakamaru was content to stay in a holding pattern. Patiently he waited for Taguchi to break the silence. It wasn’t very long before he was babbling, words spilling out in a jumble and fists clenching. “Naka-- Sir, please, keep going.” Taguchi’s voice was a throaty whisper. “Please, sir, please continue.”
Nakamaru chuckled, voice much lower than usual. “Well, if you insist, Taguchi.”
Nakamaru spread his fingers wide apart, scissoring them back and forth, in and out. He slipped a third finger in, crooking them until he felt Taguchi jerk as he pressed against his prostate. Once he’d found it, Nakamaru kept going, pulling back as Taguchi began trying to back into his probing fingers. He swiped some of the excess lube along his length. “Take a deep breath.”
Taguchi swallowed thickly, sucking in a deep breath as instructed. Nakamaru lined himself up, the head of his cock barely pressing against Taguchi’s rim. He slid inside slowly, hissing at how tight the other still was. Nakamaru still held the gun loosely, managing to scrape it along Taguchi’s shoulder blade and press it against the nape of his neck.
Nakamaru stilled momentarily, then pulled out. He paused for a moment, then began thrusting with reckless abandon. He knew he was pressing angry red marks against the back of Taguchi’s neck, but they could easily be hidden with strategic clothing in the following days.
Taguchi’s noises were coming louder and louder, desperation increasing. Nakamaru dragged his gun down the length of Taguchi’s spine, murmuring gently. “I’m not sure you actually want to come. I mean, I haven’t heard you beg for it.” Nakamaru couldn’t keep the sharp laughter at bay, enjoying watching Taguchi squirm beneath him.
“Please! Sir, please let me come, I’m so close,” Taguchi’s effort to speak was amazing, and only encouraged Nakamaru to thrust even harder.
“Pull yourself off, Taguchi. Make it fast,” Nakamaru spoke a little breathlessly as he increased his speed. He felt Taguchi’s body tensing from his impending orgasm, and snapped his hips even harder. Finally, Taguchi stilled beneath him, crying out as his hips continued to faintly thrust against nothing. The sound was enough to carry Nakamaru over his own edge, balls deep in Taguchi.
They laid entwined for the moment, the table and themselves a sticky mess, chests heaving. Nakamaru was the first to come down fully, gingerly peeling himself from Taguchi and dropping the gun in a chair. It would have to be cleaned again, but that was a small price to pay. He slipped away to run a bath while Taguchi recovered, and Nakamaru smiled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
That had most certainly been one of the more entertaining games he’d indulged in lately.
It was a blast, and also I learned things. Maybe.
Private Game
Nakamaru Yuichi/Taguchi Junnosuke
NC-17-- gunplay, and the fact that google gave me what scant knowledge i have of the workings of real/replica guns, maybe a General appearance
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
Nakamaru enjoyed his survival games; he loved them especially when he could get Koki or Taguchi to come along. There was nothing like the exhilaration of winning matches.
Nothing except the way he sometimes caught fleeting glimpses of something like hunger flash through Taguchi’s eyes as Nakamaru’s fingers danced along the barrel of his pistol while dismantling it to painstakingly clean it after games.
That look happened often enough to spark an idea, one that Nakamaru normally wouldn’t have nurtured. It was an idea that made him glad that they played their games in a secluded area, that they made weekends of them and rented rooms.
*
Nakamaru considered all of the things that could go wrong; still it was such an enticing thing. Perhaps he could at the very least have Taguchi inspect the gun under pretense of making sure he’d put it back together correctly. At least then he’d have had someone verify that it was unloaded.
*
They had all been so busy lately, but finally a chance to take a break appeared, and Nakamaru jumped at the chance to book a few days at their usual field.
Koki declined Nakamaru’s invitation, claiming he had a string of hot dates with his bed. That was fine with him, especially since that left him a chance to try out his idea on Taguchi. Nakamaru wasn’t sure that it would be something Koki would be into, anyway.
*
The game passed in a blur, Nakamaru easily slipping into autopilot. It was almost too easy, their win this time. For once, though, the win wasn’t the prize Nakamaru was looking for.
Nakamaru strode along the path back to their room, Taguchi following quietly. Survival games seemed to be the only time he ever stayed quiet; Nakamaru wondered if that would hold true later.
The two of them entered Nakamaru’s room, piling their gear on the table. Wordlessly Nakamaru took a seat and began dismantling his guns. He glanced up, catching Taguchi watching him. Taguchi looked away, then began busying himself with his own gear. He missed Nakamaru’s brief smirk.
The only sounds in the room were the whisper of cloth running along barrels and the quiet clink of metal sliding into place, the faint scent of silicone oil lingering in the air. Final piece clean and locked into place, Nakamaru cleared his throat, sliding the pistol by the barrel across the table. Taguchi looked up, eyes questioning.
“Taguchi, I need you to dismantle this, and put it back together for me.” Nakamaru’s voice was soft and impassive, gaze steady.
Nakamaru was pleased with the way Taguchi nodded and reached for the pistol, carefully wrapping his fingers around the grip. Taguchi released the magazine and methodically unlocked the barrel, sliding it off. The pieces were set aside for the moment, and he pulled the slide from the frame. He laid the dismantled gun on the table, moving his hands out of the way for Nakamaru’s approval.
Nakamaru smiled, curtly nodding. Taguchi reassembled the gun quickly; he finally spoke as he clicked the magazine home. “It’s completely empty. I’ve engaged all of the safeties as well.”
Perfect. Nakamaru stood, stepping around the table and straightening his shoulders as he took the gun from Taguchi. He inspected it once more, satisfied that the safeties were in order, then raised it. A curl of deep satisfaction roiled through his gut as Taguchi’s eyes widened and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.
“I want you to stand, Taguchi, and strip. Slowly, you know.” Nakamaru couldn’t help smirking down at him.
Taguchi obeyed, unzipping his vest and dropping it over the back of his chair. His thin t-shirt followed shortly, and Nakamaru motioned with the gun to continue. Hands just the slightest bit shaky, Taguchi dropped to one knee to undo his bootlaces and stood to kick them off. He swallowed thickly, unbuckling his belt; a nearly imperceptible nod prompted him to push his trousers down and step out of them.
“Continue,” Nakamaru spoke, still quiet and perfectly under control. He could see the raw want in the way Taguchi’s eyes shimmered, nearly black in the last rays of sunlight peeking through the window.
Taguchi looked down, then nodded and slid his boxer briefs below his hips, letting them fall. He steadied himself with a hand against the edge of the table and pulled his socks off, then straightened and held Nakamaru’s gaze.
Nakamaru stepped forward, gun still trained on Taguchi. Such a wonderful feeling, to have someone so pliant; of course, the gun probably helped to make that happen. He pressed the barrel against Taguchi’s navel, sliding it upward between his pectorals and stopping at his adam’s apple. “Am I correct in my assumption that you’re amenable to anything that happens between us this evening? I have caught you staring, before, just so you’re aware,” Nakamaru spoke slowly, making sure his words were clear.
“Nakamaru-kun, I-- ” Taguchi began, then shut his mouth and reconsidered. “Yes, sir. Please order me as you will.”
The words sent a thrill through Nakamaru. He dragged the gun along Taguchi’s collarbone, digging into the junction of his neck and shoulder, and pressed down. Taguchi promptly dropped to his knees, eyes trained on the toes of Nakamaru’s boots and hands at his sides. Nakamaru slipped the gun under Taguchi’s chin, pressing up in a silent order to look up at him.
“Suck me,” Nakamaru spoke softly, but the press of the gun turned it into an irrefutable order.
Taguchi’s hands ghosted their way up Nakamaru’s thighs, settling at his belt buckle and undoing it and the zipper in one smooth movement. He freed Nakamaru from his underwear, quickly stroking him to full hardness before flicking his tongue along the underside.
Nakamaru jabbed the gun’s barrel into the side of Taguchi’s neck, snaking his free hand into Taguchi’s hair and holding him in place by the back of his skull. “You’ll do it properly, with no teasing,” he hissed.
The words seemed to galvanize Taguchi into action as he leaned forward to take Nakamaru into his mouth as best he could, wrapping his hand around the base. His other hand gripped Nakamaru’s thigh, grip as tight as he dared. He began sucking slowly, cheeks hollowing as he fell into a comfortable rhythm of alternating strokes with suction, moaning deep in his throat. The vibrations around his cock pulled an answering moan from Nakamaru, and he used his grip on Taguchi’s hair to pull him off his dick and to his feet.
“Bend over the table, legs spread.” Nakamaru’s voice was a deep rumble as he punctuated his words with the gun. He released Taguchi, watching as he complied. Nakamaru took the opportunity to holster his gun and pull a condom from a pocket, tearing it open and rolling it on. He made a show of grabbing the gun lubricant he’d left on the table, smirking at the way Taguchi gasped and squirmed, attempting to keep from rutting up against the table edge.
Nakamaru stepped behind Taguchi and out of his line of sight, slipping the silicone oil into a pocket and exchanging it for a proper lubricant, delighting in the shiver that ran along Taguchi’s spine at the sound of the cap popping. Before he slicked his fingers, Nakamaru pulled his gun from its holster and ran it down the knobs of Taguchi’s spine, watching the way he writhed until his gun made its way to his crease. Taguchi stilled then, scarcely breathing, fists clenched against the table.
Just to be the tiniest bit cruel, Nakamaru dragged it down, pressing the muzzle against Taguchi’s perineum before nudging his legs further apart. “Stay,” he whispered.
The order was hardly necessary, as Taguchi barely dared to breathe, breaths coming shallowly. Still clenching the gun in one hand, Nakamaru drizzled the lubricant along the crease of Taguchi’s ass, unmindful of the mess it made as the excess dribbled to the floor. One-handed, Nakamaru closed the cap and then dragged two fingers along the mess before spreading him open, cold plastic and metal in his clean hand raising goosebumps along Taguchi’s flank.
Nakamaru took his time, enjoying the increasingly frantic noises that Taguchi was unable to stifle, lazily drawing a circle around his rim. Once it seemed that Taguchi was on the verge of pleading, Nakamaru slipped a finger in, marveling at the tightness. He wiggled it around, pulling back before slowly adding another finger.
Knuckle-deep in Taguchi, Nakamaru was content to stay in a holding pattern. Patiently he waited for Taguchi to break the silence. It wasn’t very long before he was babbling, words spilling out in a jumble and fists clenching. “Naka-- Sir, please, keep going.” Taguchi’s voice was a throaty whisper. “Please, sir, please continue.”
Nakamaru chuckled, voice much lower than usual. “Well, if you insist, Taguchi.”
Nakamaru spread his fingers wide apart, scissoring them back and forth, in and out. He slipped a third finger in, crooking them until he felt Taguchi jerk as he pressed against his prostate. Once he’d found it, Nakamaru kept going, pulling back as Taguchi began trying to back into his probing fingers. He swiped some of the excess lube along his length. “Take a deep breath.”
Taguchi swallowed thickly, sucking in a deep breath as instructed. Nakamaru lined himself up, the head of his cock barely pressing against Taguchi’s rim. He slid inside slowly, hissing at how tight the other still was. Nakamaru still held the gun loosely, managing to scrape it along Taguchi’s shoulder blade and press it against the nape of his neck.
Nakamaru stilled momentarily, then pulled out. He paused for a moment, then began thrusting with reckless abandon. He knew he was pressing angry red marks against the back of Taguchi’s neck, but they could easily be hidden with strategic clothing in the following days.
Taguchi’s noises were coming louder and louder, desperation increasing. Nakamaru dragged his gun down the length of Taguchi’s spine, murmuring gently. “I’m not sure you actually want to come. I mean, I haven’t heard you beg for it.” Nakamaru couldn’t keep the sharp laughter at bay, enjoying watching Taguchi squirm beneath him.
“Please! Sir, please let me come, I’m so close,” Taguchi’s effort to speak was amazing, and only encouraged Nakamaru to thrust even harder.
“Pull yourself off, Taguchi. Make it fast,” Nakamaru spoke a little breathlessly as he increased his speed. He felt Taguchi’s body tensing from his impending orgasm, and snapped his hips even harder. Finally, Taguchi stilled beneath him, crying out as his hips continued to faintly thrust against nothing. The sound was enough to carry Nakamaru over his own edge, balls deep in Taguchi.
They laid entwined for the moment, the table and themselves a sticky mess, chests heaving. Nakamaru was the first to come down fully, gingerly peeling himself from Taguchi and dropping the gun in a chair. It would have to be cleaned again, but that was a small price to pay. He slipped away to run a bath while Taguchi recovered, and Nakamaru smiled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
That had most certainly been one of the more entertaining games he’d indulged in lately.