just being self-indulgent, is all
So this came about from a combination of getting lost on pixiv with je_levy, and ensuing discussion of certain almost-fetishistic clothing choices. Pure self-indulgence (perhaps at its finest).
A Cheeky Sort of Fellow
Taguchi Junnosuke/Tanaka Koki
NC-17-- roleplaying meta-cosplay, body paint, light bondage, probably historical and clothing-type fallacies (all I had to go on was this, really :s)
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
During concerts, Junno and Koki spend a lot of time looking at each other. It’s just something that happens, and of course they still manage to be aware of their bandmates and the audience. However, it’s during the skit portion of every show that he notices it. Junno has seen the way Koki sneaks glances at him when he thinks he isn’t looking; by now he’s sure Koki should know that he loves his samurai costume. The glances seem to come more frequently once he’s slipped fully out of his tabard, though.
Maybe Koki loves his samurai costume as well, and that tends to remind Junno of the way he looked when he’d played Ren in Hissatsu Shigotonin, all fierce and strangely adorable. The way he’d been at both ends of the spectrum, and maybe the way he’d casually slip an arm out of his kimono had been Junno’s favorite part of the drama. He’ll refrain from going into discussion about wet Ren, of course.
As it stands, the whole situation gives Junno something to think about. Something that involves a slightly mad samurai and how best to get Koki on board.
Junno decides that he’ll casually drop hints to Koki; see how he takes them. He knows that Koki doesn’t really mean it when he tells their coworkers things like how he’d never want to go on trips together. That’s just the way Koki is.
The first time Junno vaguely mentions taking a trip to Koki, just the two of them, his only response is Koki’s lips twitching upward for the barest second and his gaze sliding off to the side.
The second time the subject comes up, Koki looks like he’s vaguely considering the suggestion.
The next several times Junno brings it up, Koki seems more and more interested. Everything is going as planned; all Junno needs to do is mention that he’ll be bringing his costume. Perhaps not his actual samurai costume, because as much use as he’s put it through over the past years is one thing, but having it not hanging in his closet in its place of honor for something other than work is a bit frightening. Besides, he had another one, just the slightest bit more subdued, made specifically for his leisure time.
Junno finally manages to drum up the courage he needs to ask if Koki perhaps has any sort of Ren-like clothing he’d be able to bring with them, and is pleasantly surprised at Koki’s answer.
“Of course I do, Junnosuke, I was given a Ren costume to keep. Jewelry too.” Koki had grinned a bit, as his eyes had slid up to meet Junno’s. “I’ve an idea, and I want you to just bring a plain mesh undershirt. No questions!”
They get a five day break mid-tour, and Junno and Koki make their way to an out of the way inn, adjoining rooms and a private bath, and even their own hidden courtyard. Junno knows how to pick them, as the saying goes; he’s modest, to boot.
It’s early in the afternoon when they check in, and once they reach their rooms Koki marches himself and his bag straight into his room before returning to Junno’s. He’s surprisingly pushy as he takes his garment bag and stands on tiptoe to hang it on the back of the door. “Go take a shower, Junno. Then come to my room.”
Junno shrugs his shoulders and goes, wondering just what it is that Koki’s grinning about. He finds out when he steps into Koki’s room, towel wrapped around his waist. The sliding door is open to let in the light breeze and scent of leaves, not quite blocking out the faintest stench of ammonia. Koki’s got some jars open on the low table and a small bag next to them.
“Come on, have a seat for me,” Koki says, patting the spot on the floor next to himself. “I want you to know that I’ll need you to sit still for me.”
“I can do that, Koki.” Junno tries not to sound too petulant; as it is, his curiosity has been awakened. He smoothes the wrinkles out of his towel as he sits facing the table. “What’s all this?”
Koki’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him to face away from the supplies on the table and look out at the courtyard. He seems distracted as he trails fingers along his back and over his right shoulder to his chest, and mutters a little quietly. “Well, that saves me some trouble. I won’t ask you why your skin is so smooth and you aren’t going to say anything weird.”
Junno can’t help the affronted noise he lets slip, and he glances over his shoulder in time to watch as Koki squeezes a bit of lotion into his hands. Koki glances up at him, a small smile playing around his mouth, and he finally answers Junno’s question. “It’s liquid latex; it will look way better than your pretend ink shirt. Just relax, and don’t fidget. I know you can do it.”
Oh. Junno can follow instructions, and he settles in to watch the wind play along the branches of the trees. Koki’s hands are warm along his shoulders and back as he gently massages the lotion into his skin. He jumps a bit as Koki’s hands slide around to his front and up his chest. It seems like Koki is leaning into him, and he feels the slightest puff of warm breath against his ear. It’s a struggle to not shudder, but Junno manages. He tries to focus on the light shifting amongst leaves and not on how the room seems the slightest bit warmer.
Koki withdraws, small rustling noises behind Junno. He must be fussing with the bag; he isn’t expecting the cool stickiness or the slight roughness of a brush against his shoulder blade. “You have to stay still, Junno, remember that,” Koki says. “I’m starting with white. Then we’ll let it dry for a few minutes and I’ll keep going. I brought a blow dryer to make it go a little faster, but it will still take a while.”
Junno nods, closing his eyes and listening to Koki’s even breathing. He moves when Koki’s fingers gently press him to, the rough foam brush transforming into a featherlight sweep against his skin. By now Koki has moved from his back and on to his chest. He sucks in a breath as Koki’s brush barely skims his nipple. Koki chuckles a little, and Junno hears him shift away.
There’s more rustling behind him, and the white noise of the blow dryer drowns out the chirping birds in the courtyard. Junno bites his lip as Koki holds him still with one hand as he passes the dryer over the areas he’s painted so far. It feels like the latex is just barely tightening against his skin, and Junno almost doesn’t hear Koki when he asks, “Is it too close? Too hot? Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”
Junno opens his eyes, and catches one of the most tender looks he’s ever seen. Koki catches him looking and glances away as he turns the blow dryer off and sets it aside. “I’m going to let that rest for a few minutes before I continue. I’ll be doing the blossoms and petals next.”
“Okay,” Junno says, surprised that his voice catches. Koki smiles, then returns his attentions to his supplies on the table.
“I thought about this when you kept hinting how we should go on a trip, you know. I figured it would be easiest to make a stencil for this part,” Koki speaks softly, sounding almost shy. It gives Junno a warm feeling somewhere in his middle. “I’ll start with your back.”
Junno nods, a happy noise slipping out as Koki’s fingers delicately press a stiff piece of cardboard against his back. He wants to lean into the touch, but it would definitely not count as holding still. There’s a brief whisper of laughter and Koki swabs the base color of the first flower onto his skin. Koki lets the stencil and his hand rest for a moment before pulling away, and then there’s a slightly smaller-feeling brush dabbing in vague curves.
“I’m giving it a bit of depth,” Koki whispers, and it’s entirely too close to the back of Junno’s neck. He can do this, though, he’s capable of sitting still for however long Koki wants him to sit. Koki repeats the process in another spot, still quiet and gentle as he paints. Junno doesn’t have any idea how much time passes as Koki works; he barely registers the tickle of the paintbrushes even when they come dangerously close to his nipple again. He hears and feels the blow dryer again, and Koki breathes a soft “Good.”
Junno blinks his eyes open again, shifting a bit to make himself more comfortable. He’s long since air-dried and his towel isn’t necessary, but he doesn’t say anything about that. Instead he asks, “How much longer, Koki?”
The only sounds for a long moment are the outdoors and the rustle of Koki’s supplies. He swallows, then the words spill out rapid-fire. “All that’s left are the blue swirls, and then we wait for the latex to dry completely. After that we’re ready for whatever.”
Junno makes a noise of assent, noticing that the sunlight has shifted somewhat. He wonders how long they’ve been sitting there. Koki’s voice shakes him out of his musing, once again far too close to the nape of his neck. “You’ve been doing well, you know. I’m starting the last part now.”
The words are almost a purr, and Junno barely nods in agreement. Koki’s next words are utterly startling.
“You seem to be enjoying this a lot, Junno. Why don’t you get some actual ink? It’s just as relaxing as this once it really gets going.” Koki’s free hand is lightly stroking against the curve of his hipbone, and Junno can’t help squirming beneath it. “It wouldn’t have to be as big as what I’m painting on you, you know.
“It could be something small, right here on your hip,” Koki says, and Junno can feel that he’s got that small, secretive smile he sometimes gets on his face. “Or maybe it could be high on the inside of your thigh. It would be our little secret.”
Junno clears his throat and swallows. “It would hurt, though. You know I like to avoid as much pain as possible.”
He feels Koki’s silent laugh before he continues, still daubing at his skin. “There’s a good kind of hurt, though, and that’s what it would be.”
Junno thinks about what that would feel like; he’s not completely convinced. He’s quiet as Koki continues with the last layer of latex. The breeze has subsided somewhat, and he stays still at the persistent press of Koki’s fingers as he finishes the last swirl on his chest. Koki’s eyes are dancing with mischief as he runs the blow dryer one last time.
“Now comes the really hard part, Junno. The latex is still sort of sticky until it’s completely set,” Koki smirks a bit as he says the words.
“How long will it take, then?” Junno hopes it’s not long; it feels like he’s already waited too long for this.
There’s a pause before Koki meets his eyes. “About four hours. But!” he interjects, “that just gives us time to have some discussion. Especially about things like will Ren be your prisoner?” Koki leans in close to Junno’s ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “You could paint Ren’s fake prisoner markings on my arm.”
Oh. Junno hadn’t even considered that possibility. His mouth seems to have gone dry, and he nods. Koki looks so pleased, and Junno smiles at him.
“I’ll go rinse off, then.” Koki looks stern suddenly as he adds, “And you can’t touch or the latex will tear. Sit on your hands if you have to. I won’t be long.”
“Got it.” Junno nods and shifts, going with Koki’s suggestion. He folds his hands beneath himself and lets his mind wander as the shower spray comes on. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear the water shut off, and Koki’s touch against his arm surprises him.
Koki pulls one of his hands out from its resisting temptations place, and places the lotion bottle in it. He offers his right arm to Junno and murmurs, “You only need a little bit of lotion. Otherwise the tape I’ve got to mark off the lines will slip.”
Junno pulls his other hand out from beneath himself and uncaps the lotion. He squeezes a dollop against his fingers, glancing to Koki for approval. Koki nods and makes himself comfortable next to Junno, towel rumpled against his thighs.
He tears his gaze away from Koki’s towel and busies himself with rubbing the lotion onto Koki’s arm. “Your skin is surprisingly soft.”
Koki shifts a little, looking away and busying himself with his bag. He pulls out a roll of masking tape, and Junno resists the urge to say something silly, like how cute Koki is when he gets fidgety like this.
Junno finishes with the lotion and Koki hands him the tape. He tears the first piece off and holds it just below Koki’s elbow. “Is this good?”
Koki nods, and Junno wraps the tape around his forearm, taking care to make certain that it’s as straight as possible. He repeats his actions twice more under Koki’s guidance, then takes the brush Koki offers. Carefully, Junno dips it into the jar of black latex and swipes the brush over the guiding lines of the tape. The latex glides on smoothly and Junno feels like he’s leaving more than a temporary mark on Koki. It’s a feeling he enjoys, surprisingly.
Wordlessly Koki slides the blow dryer across the table to Junno and holds still. Once Junno finishes, Koki holds his arm up, inspecting the thick lines. “This is good. Go ahead and peel the tape away, really carefully.”
It’s a meticulous task, but Junno is good at these sorts of things. He carefully slides a fingernail under the edge of the first piece of tape and slowly pulls it away. It doesn’t tear the latex, and he confidently carries on. A few moments, and all that Koki’s left with are two rings of stark black around his upper forearm. Junno sort of wants to lick his way along them, but he keeps that thought to himself.
Koki stretches and smiles at Junno. “All that’s left is waiting for everything to set. Will you be a weary warrior returning to my shop from an assignment, just to make sure I haven’t fled?” He holds his arm away from his torso carefully, and begins screwing lids on jars and packing their supplies away.
Junno considers, then adds another scenario. “What if I’ve brought you back to your shop after I’ve taken you from a work camp? You’d be my reward for loyal service to the daimyo. Did you happen to bring any rope?”
Koki nods. “I even brought basting needles and spools of heavy thread. That sounds like a good idea, you know. You gonna manhandle me in here and force me to submit to your will?”
Well, it sounds positively provocative the way Koki says it. Junno nods in agreement and adds, “I kind of want you tied up and at my mercy. If it got to be too much you’d tell me, right?”
“Of course, Junno. If everything gets to be too much for either of us, all we have to say is ‘red,’” Koki says. “I wouldn’t agree to this sort of thing otherwise.”
Junno feels a tiny twinge of something like jealousy flare in his chest, but it’s overshadowed by how trusting Koki sounds. “Sounds fine to me. Can I lay down? I’m tired of sitting like this.”
Koki looks up at Junno from where he’s sprawled on his back, right arm carefully propped up against his side. He eyes Junno up, consideringly, and finally answers. “Only if you stay on your side. I’ve set my phone alarm for four hours, so we can doze until it’s time to get dressed.”
Junno shifts carefully and arranges himself so he faces Koki. He can’t help looking at him, eyes drawn to the markings on his arm. Koki gazes back at him for a long moment, then closes his eyes to rest. Junno follows suit, slipping easily into a cat nap.
The shrill chirp of Koki’s phone alert startles them both awake. Junno blearily watches Koki fumble with his phone to shut off the offending noise, then gingerly pushes himself upright. Koki stretches and yawns, then mumbles something about food. Junno watches silently as Koki crawls to the room’s phone and orders something from room service; it’s a capital idea, especially since Junno is still in that sleepy stage of never wanting to move again.
Koki finally has the willpower to stand, and drops his towel in favor of pulling on the robe provided by the inn. Perhaps Junno should get his own, and he rises to his feet. He grabs Koki’s towel from the floor and pads into the bathroom to drop his towel as well. Koki follows him, a bottle clutched in his hand. Junno stops to look at Koki’s handiwork in the mirror, admiring the swirls of blue and white that emulate the wind scattering petals across his chest and shoulder. Koki catches his eyes in the mirror, looking completely self-satisfied.
“This is amazing, Koki,” Junno says. He’s still kind of in awe at the detail Koki put into his ‘tattoo.’ Koki glances down, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands.
“Thank you,” he whispers, then seems to find his voice again. “I just have to do one more thing, then you can get dressed.”
Koki twists the bottle top and puffs out a small handful of talcum powder. He sets the bottle on the counter and lightly rubs his hands together before patting them against Junno’s back. Carefully he presses the powder to the design, and Junno bends his knees to make it easier for Koki to reach the top of his shoulder. He turns around when Koki’s fingers prompt him, and he leans against the counter as he watches Koki concentrate on smoothing powder across his chest.
Satisfied, Koki pulls away to powder his own markings as Junno continues to watch. Koki clears his throat. “You can get dressed, if you want to.”
Junno nods and slips into his inn-issued robe as a knock sounds at Koki’s door. He listens to the pleasantries exchanged and returns as Koki is closing the door. He glances at Junno and grins. “Let’s have our meal on the verandah.”
The two of them each take a tray and have a seat near the edge of the verandah. It’s late in the afternoon now, closer to early evening, and the breeze has died down. The air is still cool as the light slowly changes to orange. They eat in a companionable silence and listen to the sounds of early spring.
Koki glances over at Junno, a hand in front of his mouth as he finishes chewing and swallows. “I know we’re sort of secluded here, but I guess we should make an effort to be quiet.” Koki’s lips quirk up in a rakish grin as he says, “You might just have to gag me, Kin-san.”
Junno finishes his drink, thankfully before Koki completed that thought. He side-eyes Koki and responds, only half-joking. “You’ll speak to me respectfully, or not at all, Ren. Address me as ‘Kin-sama’ or ‘sir,’ nothing else. Are we clear?”
Koki stills, then turns to Junno, briefly locking eyes before respectfully looking down in acknowledgement. Junno blinks for a moment, then touches Koki’s shoulder for a second. “Relax for now, we haven’t started, okay?”
“Alright, will we start once we’ve gotten dressed?” Koki is smiling at him, and Junno feels sort of fluttery in his guts. It’s sort of a weird feeling, and he simply nods.
They finish their food, and put the trays outside the door before throwing the deadbolt on it. Koki looks up, claps a hand on Junno’s shoulder, and turns to rummage in his bags. “I’ll bring the rope to you when I’m done. Tell me if you need any help with your clothes.”
“I will,” Junno murmurs, and strides back to his room. He should be fine; he’s long-since perfected his technique for wrapping himself in so many oddly-layered clothes.
He steps into the loose trousers, foregoing underwear. The pants are black like his stage costume, though less sparkly, and Junno ties them loosely at his hips. Junno pulls his plain mesh shirt over his head, the faint stretching of the latex design on his shoulder a strange, but not unpleasant feeling.
Next Junno pulls his half-gi onto his left arm. It’s a pale cream color, lightly quilted as if it were really used to practice martial arts, and it has a tastefully understated pattern of golden swirls. He’s not really going for a completely authentic costume, but he’s pretty sure that glitter didn’t exist in the Edo period. He twists to tie it shut, then reaches for the next piece.
It’s less like an obi, and more like a cincher made to emulate bandages wrapped around his torso. To save time with squeezing into it, Junno had requested a hidden zipper to be sewn into the right hand side of it. He thinks it was one of his more ingenious moments.
The last big piece is next; Junno’s leisure tabard is the same rich orange brocade as his stage costume. It’s trimmed with soft ecru fur, and perfectly complements the cream of his gi. Junno lets it hang open as he positions his reddish orange sash with the aid of his mirror. He pulls the tabard closed, then loosely ties the sash, pulling the knot to his left hip. Junno pulls the left lapel of the tabard over the right, then pulls the sash tighter.
He’s very nearly finished; all that’s left is the heavy leather belt and its scabbard. Junno buckles it into place over the sash and surveys himself in the mirror. He slides the short sword he’s brought home. The edges are dull, though its pommel is just as heavy and flashy as its stage counterpart.
Junno ties his headband in place, just as blue as the original version, with less showy horns. He fusses with his fringe for a moment, then shrugs his left arm out of his tabard. Finally he’s ready, and he settles in to wait for Koki. The sun has set fully by now, and stars are beginning to peek out one by one.
The door between their rooms opens, and Koki crosses the room to sit next to Junno in silence. He presses a length of soft cotton rope into his hands. Junno looks down at the rope, then stands to light the lamps in the room. He walks back to where his reward from the daimyo is kneeling, the casual black kimono barely pooling around his folded legs. Kin can see the collar of his scarlet under-kimono peeking out at the nape of the man’s neck. He’s quite pretty, both thin ankles wrapped with woven hemp and wooden beads, echoing the cords and chains around his neck and wrists.
The young man refuses to acknowledge Kin’s presence, at least until Kin grabs him by the chin and forces him to look up. He speaks, firm but still gentle as he asks, “What do they call you, boy?”
Kin watches impassively as the man tries to pull his hand away, small hands still delicate though he’d been pulled from a work camp. He’d easily caught Kin’s eye, though at the time he’d been covered in dirt and wearing drab peasants clothing. The man had soft-looking black hair pulled into a messy ponytail and his eyes still sparkled with life as the other prisoners had performed their tasks like life-sized dolls.
“Once more I’ll ask you again. Your name,” Kin says. He grips slightly harder as the man struggles. “If you won’t tell me I’ll call you whatever I wish, and there’s no guarantee that it will be respectful.”
The man’s gaze slides to Kin’s side as his hands drop to clench themselves in his lap. He speaks finally, slightly muffled by Kin’s hand on his chin. “Ren. My name is Ren.”
Kin drops his hand, and slides his fingers gently along Ren’s cheek. He’s positively thrumming with anger. “Before you accompany me back to my manor, I’ll allow you to return to your old home to gather what trinkets you wish to bring. You’ll find that I’m a gentle master, as long as you don’t resist me.”
Ren’s gaze drops to his fists, and he can’t seem to sit still. One of his hands lashes out, and Kin catches it in his large palm easily. “Ah, this is unfortunate. I’ll still allow you the visit to your former home, but you’ll be bound. I’m sure the villagers will understand.”
Kin drops to his knees suddenly, grabbing Ren’s flailing wrists and pulling them behind his back. He gets one hand around both wrists and twists Ren’s kimono sleeves together as his other hand works the rope around them. “All right?” Junno breathes the words against Koki’s ear and is relieved as he nods.
Ren is finally subdued for the moment, and Kin stands, pulling him to his feet. He steadies Ren with a firm grip on his upper arms and guides him from his quarters to the streets. They walk a short distance, until Ren mutters. “It’s here.”
Kin stops, one hand still wrapped in the upper sleeve of Ren’s kimono. The other slides the door open. and Kin pauses. “You’re a tailor? Such a useful skill for someone to have; I’ll allow you to keep practicing your art, especially if you can prove your usefulness and skill in following my orders.”
Ren looks pained, like Kin is being especially cruel. He knows he’s being perfectly reasonable. After all, he could have brought Ren back to his home, then razed it before his very eyes. He says as much to Ren, taking pleasure in the way he looks down at the dusty floor. By all means, Ren still has fight left in him, which Kin values in his toys.
They cross the threshold, and Kin leans down to speak softly into Ren’s ear. “Will you behave if I untie you? I feel I should remind you that I am carrying a weapon, and while you seem to be skilled at unarmed combat, I’m not above seriously harming you.”
Ren’s eyes glimmer as he nods in acquiescence, though Kin can see that the other’s breath hitches slightly at his threats. It seems like his present will give him no trouble as long as he keeps him in line with firm promises. Kin won’t have to break this plaything; he’s already given away all his tells, it seems.
Kin presses down on Ren’s shoulders, urging him to kneel in the center of the room. He carefully unties the knotted rope and squeezes his hands gently down each of Ren’s arms. He would have missed the quiet breath Ren gasped out had he been further away, and Kin can’t resist petting him. Ren easily leans into the touch, then flinches away.
Oh, this one will be so much fun. Kin won’t be able to wait until they return to his manor for playing; he has to have Ren as soon as he possibly can.
Kin snags his fingers in the collar of Ren’s kimono and pulls him to his chest. “Oh, Ren-chan, I need to see your skills for myself. I’m not going to wait until we get to the manor.”
Kin trails his free hand across Ren’s front, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his interest. “Don’t even try to lie to me, Ren-chan.”
Ren struggles in Kin’s grasp, and Junno pauses once more to breathe quietly into Koki’s ear. “How are you holding up?”
Koki swallows, response equally as soft. “Keep going, Junno, please.”
Ren’s hands fly up to grip Kin’s arm, nails scratching against his quilted sleeve uselessly. He wriggles in Kin’s hold as he struggles to turn around. Kin allows it, drinking in the sight of Ren with flushed cheeks, fingers delicately trailing through the fur as he peers up at him through lowered lashes. He waits for Ren to speak.
“Kin-san,” he starts, then he seems to notice the look on Kin’s face. Ren tries again. “Kin-sama, may I see more of you?”
It’s an easy request to grant, and Kin readily slips his right arm from his tabard, shrugging it down. He watches as Ren’s eyes widen, taking in his elaborate tattoo. Ren’s fingers trace the edges of it, poking through the loose weave of Kin’s undershirt.
Kin waits a moment, then loosens his hold on Ren. He pulls gently at the sleeves of Ren’s kimono, pleased that he gracefully shrugs free of them. Kin wraps his fingers around Ren’s right arm and pulls it to his lips, mouthing the edges of the stark black lines marring otherwise lovely skin. Ren shudders in his grasp as Kin gently bites down.
“Kin-sama,” Ren breathes out, “how may I serve you?”
Kin has to adjust himself in his trousers as he considers his options. As lovely as Ren’s clothes are, he’d rather see them off than on. Kin tugs at the simple knot of Ren’s obi and lets it fall. Ren seems to be a quick study, and he pulls away to sit up straight as both of his kimono slide from his waist to pool around him.
Ren meets his gaze, eyes clear as he rests his hands on his knees. Kin smiles at him, and reaches to graze his fingers along Ren’s pouty lips. He makes a delighted noise when he feels the tip of Ren’s tongue dance along his fingertips, and Kin makes his choice.
“You’ll put your mouth to good use first, Ren-chan.” Kin settles back against the table and loosens his belt and sash. Ren’s eyes flash and he slinks his way to Kin’s lap.
Kin watches languidly as Ren busies himself with pulling at his clothing, allowing him to fully push his tabard open and his sash and belt off. There’s a momentary struggle with the wrappings around his torso and his gi, but Ren finally claws them open. Ren glances up at him as he finally reaches his trousers, and almost rips them apart when Kin nods his approval.
Ren wastes no time in swallowing down Kin’s cock; it’s all Kin can do to not immediately begin thrusting at the first wet slide of Ren’s tongue. Kin manages to grab a fistful of Ren’s hair and holds him in place. It only seems to encourage Ren, and he sucks harder as his movement is restricted. Kin files this bit of information away for later.
All coherent thoughts fly out of Kin’s mind when Ren slows to slip his tongue along the underside of his cock. Kin jerks at the persistent press of the tip of Ren’s tongue against the bundle of nerves below the head, and he snakes both hands into Ren’s hair to pull at the silky strands.
Kin can feel the back of Ren’s throat now, and he finally starts thrusting his hips up into the wet heat. Ren moans low in his chest, teasing Kin. He can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, and he forcibly pulls Ren off of his dick. Ren makes an obscene noise and steadily gazes at Kin, breaths coming easily.
Kin looks down at Ren’s swollen lips, still shiny with saliva. He strokes a thumb along the seam and murmurs, “Ren-chan, surely you have oils here?”
“Yes, Kin-sama. Please allow me to bring them to you.”
Kin nods, eyes following Ren as he backs away before standing and crossing the room. Ren digs through a small box and pulls out a vial. He kneels in front of Kin once more and offers the vial.
Kin takes it, clasping it between his palms to warm it. He’s very satisfied with his evening; it’s been far too long since he’s had such a pretty and willing plaything. It’s not often that he can make threats and still get a favorable response.
Kin beckons Ren to come forward once more. “Apart from your little rebellion earlier, Ren-chan, you’ve been very good. I’m going to fuck you.
“Ah, but how to do it? I could bend Ren-chan over the table here, but I really believe he’d enjoy having his face pressed to the floor and his ass in the air, like some sort of stray.”
Ren bites back a moan, and Kin goes in for the kill. “Even better, I’m sure Ren-chan would enjoy it if he were to be tied. Bring me the rope.”
Ren obeys, presenting the rope with downcast eyes. Kin hooks a finger under his chin and presses Ren to look at him. “Open your mouth.” Kin places the vial between Ren’s lips, and murmurs softly, “Hold this.”
Kin smiles down indulgently and takes the rope from Ren. “Arms at your sides.”
Ren is quiet as Kin winds the rope around his chest and upper arms; at the urging of Kin’s fingers he bends his arms at the elbow. Kin wraps the rope around and around, tying Ren’s arms against his chest. He finishes by tying the rope into a bow in the middle of Ren’s chest.
Kin nudges Ren’s knees apart and carefully helps him lean forward after taking the vial from him. It looks like a difficult position to be in; Junno runs gentle fingers along Koki’s spine and murmurs, “Is this okay?”
Koki grunts quietly, then whispers, “Yes.”
Kin sits back, admiring the view. Ren’s arms are tied together in front of his chest and support most of his weight. His brow is furrowed as he takes deep breaths, his spine arches prettily, and his legs are spread wide open. He makes quite the picture, and Kin savors it for a moment.
Finally Kin opens the vial of oil and drizzles some onto his fingers. He slowly trails them down Ren’s crease, then slips a single finger into his opening. Ren gasps at the intrusion and does his best to stay still.
Kin stops moving his hand, leaving Ren on edge. He waits a few moments, then swirls his finger around and out; the next time he pushes in he adds another finger. It’s very enjoyable, to say the least, watching the way Ren shudders beneath him, gasping and mewling.
Kin deems Ren ready enough for a thorough finger-fucking, and he pulls both fingers out, abruptly slipping them back inside. He spreads his fingers apart, sliding them out as he holds them apart. Ren makes a strangled noise as he tries to push back for more. Kin slaps him on the ass, then presses a third finger into Ren and wiggles them. Ren squeals at the movement, incapable of words. It’s just the state Kin likes to tease his playthings into, and he murmurs encouragement, nonsense words to soothe Ren.
Ren is panting under his ministrations, forehead and back covered with a faint sheen of sweat. His mouth is slack from the force of Kin’s fingers, eyes open but focused on nothing. Kin pulls his fingers and a whine from Ren, then slicks his cock and thrusts inside. He simply stops, and waits for Ren to wriggle against him.
Kin strokes a palm down the length of Ren’s back, then rests his hands on Ren’s hips to support him as he pulls out and slides back in. He starts slowly; it wouldn’t do to hurt Ren too badly. As soon as Ren begins babbling bits of words, Kin speeds up. His fingers dig into Ren’s hips, hard enough to leave marks as he begins to thrust with abandon.
It would be problematic if Ren’s cries were any louder; Kin is satisfied with the way he bound Ren just tightly enough to restrict loud moans. He’s still capable of gasps and begging with half-formed syllables, and that’s more than enough for Kin. It’s as Ren is finally gasping out the most coherent words since Kin began properly fucking him that he begins to tighten around his dick, and Kin has to press in even harder. He slips a hand around Ren’s neglected cock, stroking him roughly in rhythm with his thrusts.
Kin relentlessly pounds into Ren, grunting with the force he has to use. Judging from the way Ren’s noises have gone softer, Kin thinks he’s close. That’s fine, but Kin wants to have final say over Ren’s release. He slides his hand to the base of Ren’s cock, then squeezes it hard. The way Ren freezes and finally lets a broken sob slip from his mouth is all that Kin needs to find his release, hips snapping seemingly hard enough to bruise them both.
At the last second, Kin pulls out, spilling his orgasm all over the backs of Ren’s thighs. He relinquishes his hold on Ren’s cock, feeling another wave of pleasure at the whimper that falls from Ren’s lips at the same moment he comes over Kin’s hand.
It takes everything in Kin’s willpower not to simply slump forward over Ren’s back; instead he pulls himself away and gently helps Ren onto his side. Kin stands, letting his trousers fall to the floor away from the mess, and kneels in front of Ren.
Ren is simply lying on his side, eyes closed as he catches his breath. Strands of his hair have fallen in his face, plastered against the sweat cooling his skin. Kin pulls at the knot binding Ren’s arms, loosening it before coaxing Ren to his knees so he can unwind the rope.
Koki rests his head against Junno’s shoulder as he quietly fusses with the rope. “How are you feeling, Koki?” he asks, barely tilting his head to whisper directly into Koki’s ear.
“Tired,” is all Koki can reply with as he tries to bury his face further into Junno’s neck. He’s silent for another moment, and then adds, “Sticky too.”
Junno chuckles a little as he finally finishes with the rope. “You can stand, right? You know I can’t sleep in the state we’re in.”
Koki grumbles a bit, but stands with Junno’s help. He allows Junno to guide him to the bath and watches as Junno finally peels off his mesh shirt and headband as he twists the taps. Junno looks over his shoulder at Koki, unable to keep the mirth from his voice.
“Ren-chan, are you up for round two? I think there are ways we can use your tailor’s implements creatively.”
Koki whimpers behind him.
A Cheeky Sort of Fellow
Taguchi Junnosuke/Tanaka Koki
NC-17-- roleplaying meta-cosplay, body paint, light bondage, probably historical and clothing-type fallacies (all I had to go on was this, really :s)
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
During concerts, Junno and Koki spend a lot of time looking at each other. It’s just something that happens, and of course they still manage to be aware of their bandmates and the audience. However, it’s during the skit portion of every show that he notices it. Junno has seen the way Koki sneaks glances at him when he thinks he isn’t looking; by now he’s sure Koki should know that he loves his samurai costume. The glances seem to come more frequently once he’s slipped fully out of his tabard, though.
Maybe Koki loves his samurai costume as well, and that tends to remind Junno of the way he looked when he’d played Ren in Hissatsu Shigotonin, all fierce and strangely adorable. The way he’d been at both ends of the spectrum, and maybe the way he’d casually slip an arm out of his kimono had been Junno’s favorite part of the drama. He’ll refrain from going into discussion about wet Ren, of course.
As it stands, the whole situation gives Junno something to think about. Something that involves a slightly mad samurai and how best to get Koki on board.
Junno decides that he’ll casually drop hints to Koki; see how he takes them. He knows that Koki doesn’t really mean it when he tells their coworkers things like how he’d never want to go on trips together. That’s just the way Koki is.
The first time Junno vaguely mentions taking a trip to Koki, just the two of them, his only response is Koki’s lips twitching upward for the barest second and his gaze sliding off to the side.
The second time the subject comes up, Koki looks like he’s vaguely considering the suggestion.
The next several times Junno brings it up, Koki seems more and more interested. Everything is going as planned; all Junno needs to do is mention that he’ll be bringing his costume. Perhaps not his actual samurai costume, because as much use as he’s put it through over the past years is one thing, but having it not hanging in his closet in its place of honor for something other than work is a bit frightening. Besides, he had another one, just the slightest bit more subdued, made specifically for his leisure time.
Junno finally manages to drum up the courage he needs to ask if Koki perhaps has any sort of Ren-like clothing he’d be able to bring with them, and is pleasantly surprised at Koki’s answer.
“Of course I do, Junnosuke, I was given a Ren costume to keep. Jewelry too.” Koki had grinned a bit, as his eyes had slid up to meet Junno’s. “I’ve an idea, and I want you to just bring a plain mesh undershirt. No questions!”
They get a five day break mid-tour, and Junno and Koki make their way to an out of the way inn, adjoining rooms and a private bath, and even their own hidden courtyard. Junno knows how to pick them, as the saying goes; he’s modest, to boot.
It’s early in the afternoon when they check in, and once they reach their rooms Koki marches himself and his bag straight into his room before returning to Junno’s. He’s surprisingly pushy as he takes his garment bag and stands on tiptoe to hang it on the back of the door. “Go take a shower, Junno. Then come to my room.”
Junno shrugs his shoulders and goes, wondering just what it is that Koki’s grinning about. He finds out when he steps into Koki’s room, towel wrapped around his waist. The sliding door is open to let in the light breeze and scent of leaves, not quite blocking out the faintest stench of ammonia. Koki’s got some jars open on the low table and a small bag next to them.
“Come on, have a seat for me,” Koki says, patting the spot on the floor next to himself. “I want you to know that I’ll need you to sit still for me.”
“I can do that, Koki.” Junno tries not to sound too petulant; as it is, his curiosity has been awakened. He smoothes the wrinkles out of his towel as he sits facing the table. “What’s all this?”
Koki’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him to face away from the supplies on the table and look out at the courtyard. He seems distracted as he trails fingers along his back and over his right shoulder to his chest, and mutters a little quietly. “Well, that saves me some trouble. I won’t ask you why your skin is so smooth and you aren’t going to say anything weird.”
Junno can’t help the affronted noise he lets slip, and he glances over his shoulder in time to watch as Koki squeezes a bit of lotion into his hands. Koki glances up at him, a small smile playing around his mouth, and he finally answers Junno’s question. “It’s liquid latex; it will look way better than your pretend ink shirt. Just relax, and don’t fidget. I know you can do it.”
Oh. Junno can follow instructions, and he settles in to watch the wind play along the branches of the trees. Koki’s hands are warm along his shoulders and back as he gently massages the lotion into his skin. He jumps a bit as Koki’s hands slide around to his front and up his chest. It seems like Koki is leaning into him, and he feels the slightest puff of warm breath against his ear. It’s a struggle to not shudder, but Junno manages. He tries to focus on the light shifting amongst leaves and not on how the room seems the slightest bit warmer.
Koki withdraws, small rustling noises behind Junno. He must be fussing with the bag; he isn’t expecting the cool stickiness or the slight roughness of a brush against his shoulder blade. “You have to stay still, Junno, remember that,” Koki says. “I’m starting with white. Then we’ll let it dry for a few minutes and I’ll keep going. I brought a blow dryer to make it go a little faster, but it will still take a while.”
Junno nods, closing his eyes and listening to Koki’s even breathing. He moves when Koki’s fingers gently press him to, the rough foam brush transforming into a featherlight sweep against his skin. By now Koki has moved from his back and on to his chest. He sucks in a breath as Koki’s brush barely skims his nipple. Koki chuckles a little, and Junno hears him shift away.
There’s more rustling behind him, and the white noise of the blow dryer drowns out the chirping birds in the courtyard. Junno bites his lip as Koki holds him still with one hand as he passes the dryer over the areas he’s painted so far. It feels like the latex is just barely tightening against his skin, and Junno almost doesn’t hear Koki when he asks, “Is it too close? Too hot? Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”
Junno opens his eyes, and catches one of the most tender looks he’s ever seen. Koki catches him looking and glances away as he turns the blow dryer off and sets it aside. “I’m going to let that rest for a few minutes before I continue. I’ll be doing the blossoms and petals next.”
“Okay,” Junno says, surprised that his voice catches. Koki smiles, then returns his attentions to his supplies on the table.
“I thought about this when you kept hinting how we should go on a trip, you know. I figured it would be easiest to make a stencil for this part,” Koki speaks softly, sounding almost shy. It gives Junno a warm feeling somewhere in his middle. “I’ll start with your back.”
Junno nods, a happy noise slipping out as Koki’s fingers delicately press a stiff piece of cardboard against his back. He wants to lean into the touch, but it would definitely not count as holding still. There’s a brief whisper of laughter and Koki swabs the base color of the first flower onto his skin. Koki lets the stencil and his hand rest for a moment before pulling away, and then there’s a slightly smaller-feeling brush dabbing in vague curves.
“I’m giving it a bit of depth,” Koki whispers, and it’s entirely too close to the back of Junno’s neck. He can do this, though, he’s capable of sitting still for however long Koki wants him to sit. Koki repeats the process in another spot, still quiet and gentle as he paints. Junno doesn’t have any idea how much time passes as Koki works; he barely registers the tickle of the paintbrushes even when they come dangerously close to his nipple again. He hears and feels the blow dryer again, and Koki breathes a soft “Good.”
Junno blinks his eyes open again, shifting a bit to make himself more comfortable. He’s long since air-dried and his towel isn’t necessary, but he doesn’t say anything about that. Instead he asks, “How much longer, Koki?”
The only sounds for a long moment are the outdoors and the rustle of Koki’s supplies. He swallows, then the words spill out rapid-fire. “All that’s left are the blue swirls, and then we wait for the latex to dry completely. After that we’re ready for whatever.”
Junno makes a noise of assent, noticing that the sunlight has shifted somewhat. He wonders how long they’ve been sitting there. Koki’s voice shakes him out of his musing, once again far too close to the nape of his neck. “You’ve been doing well, you know. I’m starting the last part now.”
The words are almost a purr, and Junno barely nods in agreement. Koki’s next words are utterly startling.
“You seem to be enjoying this a lot, Junno. Why don’t you get some actual ink? It’s just as relaxing as this once it really gets going.” Koki’s free hand is lightly stroking against the curve of his hipbone, and Junno can’t help squirming beneath it. “It wouldn’t have to be as big as what I’m painting on you, you know.
“It could be something small, right here on your hip,” Koki says, and Junno can feel that he’s got that small, secretive smile he sometimes gets on his face. “Or maybe it could be high on the inside of your thigh. It would be our little secret.”
Junno clears his throat and swallows. “It would hurt, though. You know I like to avoid as much pain as possible.”
He feels Koki’s silent laugh before he continues, still daubing at his skin. “There’s a good kind of hurt, though, and that’s what it would be.”
Junno thinks about what that would feel like; he’s not completely convinced. He’s quiet as Koki continues with the last layer of latex. The breeze has subsided somewhat, and he stays still at the persistent press of Koki’s fingers as he finishes the last swirl on his chest. Koki’s eyes are dancing with mischief as he runs the blow dryer one last time.
“Now comes the really hard part, Junno. The latex is still sort of sticky until it’s completely set,” Koki smirks a bit as he says the words.
“How long will it take, then?” Junno hopes it’s not long; it feels like he’s already waited too long for this.
There’s a pause before Koki meets his eyes. “About four hours. But!” he interjects, “that just gives us time to have some discussion. Especially about things like will Ren be your prisoner?” Koki leans in close to Junno’s ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “You could paint Ren’s fake prisoner markings on my arm.”
Oh. Junno hadn’t even considered that possibility. His mouth seems to have gone dry, and he nods. Koki looks so pleased, and Junno smiles at him.
“I’ll go rinse off, then.” Koki looks stern suddenly as he adds, “And you can’t touch or the latex will tear. Sit on your hands if you have to. I won’t be long.”
“Got it.” Junno nods and shifts, going with Koki’s suggestion. He folds his hands beneath himself and lets his mind wander as the shower spray comes on. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear the water shut off, and Koki’s touch against his arm surprises him.
Koki pulls one of his hands out from its resisting temptations place, and places the lotion bottle in it. He offers his right arm to Junno and murmurs, “You only need a little bit of lotion. Otherwise the tape I’ve got to mark off the lines will slip.”
Junno pulls his other hand out from beneath himself and uncaps the lotion. He squeezes a dollop against his fingers, glancing to Koki for approval. Koki nods and makes himself comfortable next to Junno, towel rumpled against his thighs.
He tears his gaze away from Koki’s towel and busies himself with rubbing the lotion onto Koki’s arm. “Your skin is surprisingly soft.”
Koki shifts a little, looking away and busying himself with his bag. He pulls out a roll of masking tape, and Junno resists the urge to say something silly, like how cute Koki is when he gets fidgety like this.
Junno finishes with the lotion and Koki hands him the tape. He tears the first piece off and holds it just below Koki’s elbow. “Is this good?”
Koki nods, and Junno wraps the tape around his forearm, taking care to make certain that it’s as straight as possible. He repeats his actions twice more under Koki’s guidance, then takes the brush Koki offers. Carefully, Junno dips it into the jar of black latex and swipes the brush over the guiding lines of the tape. The latex glides on smoothly and Junno feels like he’s leaving more than a temporary mark on Koki. It’s a feeling he enjoys, surprisingly.
Wordlessly Koki slides the blow dryer across the table to Junno and holds still. Once Junno finishes, Koki holds his arm up, inspecting the thick lines. “This is good. Go ahead and peel the tape away, really carefully.”
It’s a meticulous task, but Junno is good at these sorts of things. He carefully slides a fingernail under the edge of the first piece of tape and slowly pulls it away. It doesn’t tear the latex, and he confidently carries on. A few moments, and all that Koki’s left with are two rings of stark black around his upper forearm. Junno sort of wants to lick his way along them, but he keeps that thought to himself.
Koki stretches and smiles at Junno. “All that’s left is waiting for everything to set. Will you be a weary warrior returning to my shop from an assignment, just to make sure I haven’t fled?” He holds his arm away from his torso carefully, and begins screwing lids on jars and packing their supplies away.
Junno considers, then adds another scenario. “What if I’ve brought you back to your shop after I’ve taken you from a work camp? You’d be my reward for loyal service to the daimyo. Did you happen to bring any rope?”
Koki nods. “I even brought basting needles and spools of heavy thread. That sounds like a good idea, you know. You gonna manhandle me in here and force me to submit to your will?”
Well, it sounds positively provocative the way Koki says it. Junno nods in agreement and adds, “I kind of want you tied up and at my mercy. If it got to be too much you’d tell me, right?”
“Of course, Junno. If everything gets to be too much for either of us, all we have to say is ‘red,’” Koki says. “I wouldn’t agree to this sort of thing otherwise.”
Junno feels a tiny twinge of something like jealousy flare in his chest, but it’s overshadowed by how trusting Koki sounds. “Sounds fine to me. Can I lay down? I’m tired of sitting like this.”
Koki looks up at Junno from where he’s sprawled on his back, right arm carefully propped up against his side. He eyes Junno up, consideringly, and finally answers. “Only if you stay on your side. I’ve set my phone alarm for four hours, so we can doze until it’s time to get dressed.”
Junno shifts carefully and arranges himself so he faces Koki. He can’t help looking at him, eyes drawn to the markings on his arm. Koki gazes back at him for a long moment, then closes his eyes to rest. Junno follows suit, slipping easily into a cat nap.
The shrill chirp of Koki’s phone alert startles them both awake. Junno blearily watches Koki fumble with his phone to shut off the offending noise, then gingerly pushes himself upright. Koki stretches and yawns, then mumbles something about food. Junno watches silently as Koki crawls to the room’s phone and orders something from room service; it’s a capital idea, especially since Junno is still in that sleepy stage of never wanting to move again.
Koki finally has the willpower to stand, and drops his towel in favor of pulling on the robe provided by the inn. Perhaps Junno should get his own, and he rises to his feet. He grabs Koki’s towel from the floor and pads into the bathroom to drop his towel as well. Koki follows him, a bottle clutched in his hand. Junno stops to look at Koki’s handiwork in the mirror, admiring the swirls of blue and white that emulate the wind scattering petals across his chest and shoulder. Koki catches his eyes in the mirror, looking completely self-satisfied.
“This is amazing, Koki,” Junno says. He’s still kind of in awe at the detail Koki put into his ‘tattoo.’ Koki glances down, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands.
“Thank you,” he whispers, then seems to find his voice again. “I just have to do one more thing, then you can get dressed.”
Koki twists the bottle top and puffs out a small handful of talcum powder. He sets the bottle on the counter and lightly rubs his hands together before patting them against Junno’s back. Carefully he presses the powder to the design, and Junno bends his knees to make it easier for Koki to reach the top of his shoulder. He turns around when Koki’s fingers prompt him, and he leans against the counter as he watches Koki concentrate on smoothing powder across his chest.
Satisfied, Koki pulls away to powder his own markings as Junno continues to watch. Koki clears his throat. “You can get dressed, if you want to.”
Junno nods and slips into his inn-issued robe as a knock sounds at Koki’s door. He listens to the pleasantries exchanged and returns as Koki is closing the door. He glances at Junno and grins. “Let’s have our meal on the verandah.”
The two of them each take a tray and have a seat near the edge of the verandah. It’s late in the afternoon now, closer to early evening, and the breeze has died down. The air is still cool as the light slowly changes to orange. They eat in a companionable silence and listen to the sounds of early spring.
Koki glances over at Junno, a hand in front of his mouth as he finishes chewing and swallows. “I know we’re sort of secluded here, but I guess we should make an effort to be quiet.” Koki’s lips quirk up in a rakish grin as he says, “You might just have to gag me, Kin-san.”
Junno finishes his drink, thankfully before Koki completed that thought. He side-eyes Koki and responds, only half-joking. “You’ll speak to me respectfully, or not at all, Ren. Address me as ‘Kin-sama’ or ‘sir,’ nothing else. Are we clear?”
Koki stills, then turns to Junno, briefly locking eyes before respectfully looking down in acknowledgement. Junno blinks for a moment, then touches Koki’s shoulder for a second. “Relax for now, we haven’t started, okay?”
“Alright, will we start once we’ve gotten dressed?” Koki is smiling at him, and Junno feels sort of fluttery in his guts. It’s sort of a weird feeling, and he simply nods.
They finish their food, and put the trays outside the door before throwing the deadbolt on it. Koki looks up, claps a hand on Junno’s shoulder, and turns to rummage in his bags. “I’ll bring the rope to you when I’m done. Tell me if you need any help with your clothes.”
“I will,” Junno murmurs, and strides back to his room. He should be fine; he’s long-since perfected his technique for wrapping himself in so many oddly-layered clothes.
He steps into the loose trousers, foregoing underwear. The pants are black like his stage costume, though less sparkly, and Junno ties them loosely at his hips. Junno pulls his plain mesh shirt over his head, the faint stretching of the latex design on his shoulder a strange, but not unpleasant feeling.
Next Junno pulls his half-gi onto his left arm. It’s a pale cream color, lightly quilted as if it were really used to practice martial arts, and it has a tastefully understated pattern of golden swirls. He’s not really going for a completely authentic costume, but he’s pretty sure that glitter didn’t exist in the Edo period. He twists to tie it shut, then reaches for the next piece.
It’s less like an obi, and more like a cincher made to emulate bandages wrapped around his torso. To save time with squeezing into it, Junno had requested a hidden zipper to be sewn into the right hand side of it. He thinks it was one of his more ingenious moments.
The last big piece is next; Junno’s leisure tabard is the same rich orange brocade as his stage costume. It’s trimmed with soft ecru fur, and perfectly complements the cream of his gi. Junno lets it hang open as he positions his reddish orange sash with the aid of his mirror. He pulls the tabard closed, then loosely ties the sash, pulling the knot to his left hip. Junno pulls the left lapel of the tabard over the right, then pulls the sash tighter.
He’s very nearly finished; all that’s left is the heavy leather belt and its scabbard. Junno buckles it into place over the sash and surveys himself in the mirror. He slides the short sword he’s brought home. The edges are dull, though its pommel is just as heavy and flashy as its stage counterpart.
Junno ties his headband in place, just as blue as the original version, with less showy horns. He fusses with his fringe for a moment, then shrugs his left arm out of his tabard. Finally he’s ready, and he settles in to wait for Koki. The sun has set fully by now, and stars are beginning to peek out one by one.
The door between their rooms opens, and Koki crosses the room to sit next to Junno in silence. He presses a length of soft cotton rope into his hands. Junno looks down at the rope, then stands to light the lamps in the room. He walks back to where his reward from the daimyo is kneeling, the casual black kimono barely pooling around his folded legs. Kin can see the collar of his scarlet under-kimono peeking out at the nape of the man’s neck. He’s quite pretty, both thin ankles wrapped with woven hemp and wooden beads, echoing the cords and chains around his neck and wrists.
The young man refuses to acknowledge Kin’s presence, at least until Kin grabs him by the chin and forces him to look up. He speaks, firm but still gentle as he asks, “What do they call you, boy?”
Kin watches impassively as the man tries to pull his hand away, small hands still delicate though he’d been pulled from a work camp. He’d easily caught Kin’s eye, though at the time he’d been covered in dirt and wearing drab peasants clothing. The man had soft-looking black hair pulled into a messy ponytail and his eyes still sparkled with life as the other prisoners had performed their tasks like life-sized dolls.
“Once more I’ll ask you again. Your name,” Kin says. He grips slightly harder as the man struggles. “If you won’t tell me I’ll call you whatever I wish, and there’s no guarantee that it will be respectful.”
The man’s gaze slides to Kin’s side as his hands drop to clench themselves in his lap. He speaks finally, slightly muffled by Kin’s hand on his chin. “Ren. My name is Ren.”
Kin drops his hand, and slides his fingers gently along Ren’s cheek. He’s positively thrumming with anger. “Before you accompany me back to my manor, I’ll allow you to return to your old home to gather what trinkets you wish to bring. You’ll find that I’m a gentle master, as long as you don’t resist me.”
Ren’s gaze drops to his fists, and he can’t seem to sit still. One of his hands lashes out, and Kin catches it in his large palm easily. “Ah, this is unfortunate. I’ll still allow you the visit to your former home, but you’ll be bound. I’m sure the villagers will understand.”
Kin drops to his knees suddenly, grabbing Ren’s flailing wrists and pulling them behind his back. He gets one hand around both wrists and twists Ren’s kimono sleeves together as his other hand works the rope around them. “All right?” Junno breathes the words against Koki’s ear and is relieved as he nods.
Ren is finally subdued for the moment, and Kin stands, pulling him to his feet. He steadies Ren with a firm grip on his upper arms and guides him from his quarters to the streets. They walk a short distance, until Ren mutters. “It’s here.”
Kin stops, one hand still wrapped in the upper sleeve of Ren’s kimono. The other slides the door open. and Kin pauses. “You’re a tailor? Such a useful skill for someone to have; I’ll allow you to keep practicing your art, especially if you can prove your usefulness and skill in following my orders.”
Ren looks pained, like Kin is being especially cruel. He knows he’s being perfectly reasonable. After all, he could have brought Ren back to his home, then razed it before his very eyes. He says as much to Ren, taking pleasure in the way he looks down at the dusty floor. By all means, Ren still has fight left in him, which Kin values in his toys.
They cross the threshold, and Kin leans down to speak softly into Ren’s ear. “Will you behave if I untie you? I feel I should remind you that I am carrying a weapon, and while you seem to be skilled at unarmed combat, I’m not above seriously harming you.”
Ren’s eyes glimmer as he nods in acquiescence, though Kin can see that the other’s breath hitches slightly at his threats. It seems like his present will give him no trouble as long as he keeps him in line with firm promises. Kin won’t have to break this plaything; he’s already given away all his tells, it seems.
Kin presses down on Ren’s shoulders, urging him to kneel in the center of the room. He carefully unties the knotted rope and squeezes his hands gently down each of Ren’s arms. He would have missed the quiet breath Ren gasped out had he been further away, and Kin can’t resist petting him. Ren easily leans into the touch, then flinches away.
Oh, this one will be so much fun. Kin won’t be able to wait until they return to his manor for playing; he has to have Ren as soon as he possibly can.
Kin snags his fingers in the collar of Ren’s kimono and pulls him to his chest. “Oh, Ren-chan, I need to see your skills for myself. I’m not going to wait until we get to the manor.”
Kin trails his free hand across Ren’s front, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his interest. “Don’t even try to lie to me, Ren-chan.”
Ren struggles in Kin’s grasp, and Junno pauses once more to breathe quietly into Koki’s ear. “How are you holding up?”
Koki swallows, response equally as soft. “Keep going, Junno, please.”
Ren’s hands fly up to grip Kin’s arm, nails scratching against his quilted sleeve uselessly. He wriggles in Kin’s hold as he struggles to turn around. Kin allows it, drinking in the sight of Ren with flushed cheeks, fingers delicately trailing through the fur as he peers up at him through lowered lashes. He waits for Ren to speak.
“Kin-san,” he starts, then he seems to notice the look on Kin’s face. Ren tries again. “Kin-sama, may I see more of you?”
It’s an easy request to grant, and Kin readily slips his right arm from his tabard, shrugging it down. He watches as Ren’s eyes widen, taking in his elaborate tattoo. Ren’s fingers trace the edges of it, poking through the loose weave of Kin’s undershirt.
Kin waits a moment, then loosens his hold on Ren. He pulls gently at the sleeves of Ren’s kimono, pleased that he gracefully shrugs free of them. Kin wraps his fingers around Ren’s right arm and pulls it to his lips, mouthing the edges of the stark black lines marring otherwise lovely skin. Ren shudders in his grasp as Kin gently bites down.
“Kin-sama,” Ren breathes out, “how may I serve you?”
Kin has to adjust himself in his trousers as he considers his options. As lovely as Ren’s clothes are, he’d rather see them off than on. Kin tugs at the simple knot of Ren’s obi and lets it fall. Ren seems to be a quick study, and he pulls away to sit up straight as both of his kimono slide from his waist to pool around him.
Ren meets his gaze, eyes clear as he rests his hands on his knees. Kin smiles at him, and reaches to graze his fingers along Ren’s pouty lips. He makes a delighted noise when he feels the tip of Ren’s tongue dance along his fingertips, and Kin makes his choice.
“You’ll put your mouth to good use first, Ren-chan.” Kin settles back against the table and loosens his belt and sash. Ren’s eyes flash and he slinks his way to Kin’s lap.
Kin watches languidly as Ren busies himself with pulling at his clothing, allowing him to fully push his tabard open and his sash and belt off. There’s a momentary struggle with the wrappings around his torso and his gi, but Ren finally claws them open. Ren glances up at him as he finally reaches his trousers, and almost rips them apart when Kin nods his approval.
Ren wastes no time in swallowing down Kin’s cock; it’s all Kin can do to not immediately begin thrusting at the first wet slide of Ren’s tongue. Kin manages to grab a fistful of Ren’s hair and holds him in place. It only seems to encourage Ren, and he sucks harder as his movement is restricted. Kin files this bit of information away for later.
All coherent thoughts fly out of Kin’s mind when Ren slows to slip his tongue along the underside of his cock. Kin jerks at the persistent press of the tip of Ren’s tongue against the bundle of nerves below the head, and he snakes both hands into Ren’s hair to pull at the silky strands.
Kin can feel the back of Ren’s throat now, and he finally starts thrusting his hips up into the wet heat. Ren moans low in his chest, teasing Kin. He can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, and he forcibly pulls Ren off of his dick. Ren makes an obscene noise and steadily gazes at Kin, breaths coming easily.
Kin looks down at Ren’s swollen lips, still shiny with saliva. He strokes a thumb along the seam and murmurs, “Ren-chan, surely you have oils here?”
“Yes, Kin-sama. Please allow me to bring them to you.”
Kin nods, eyes following Ren as he backs away before standing and crossing the room. Ren digs through a small box and pulls out a vial. He kneels in front of Kin once more and offers the vial.
Kin takes it, clasping it between his palms to warm it. He’s very satisfied with his evening; it’s been far too long since he’s had such a pretty and willing plaything. It’s not often that he can make threats and still get a favorable response.
Kin beckons Ren to come forward once more. “Apart from your little rebellion earlier, Ren-chan, you’ve been very good. I’m going to fuck you.
“Ah, but how to do it? I could bend Ren-chan over the table here, but I really believe he’d enjoy having his face pressed to the floor and his ass in the air, like some sort of stray.”
Ren bites back a moan, and Kin goes in for the kill. “Even better, I’m sure Ren-chan would enjoy it if he were to be tied. Bring me the rope.”
Ren obeys, presenting the rope with downcast eyes. Kin hooks a finger under his chin and presses Ren to look at him. “Open your mouth.” Kin places the vial between Ren’s lips, and murmurs softly, “Hold this.”
Kin smiles down indulgently and takes the rope from Ren. “Arms at your sides.”
Ren is quiet as Kin winds the rope around his chest and upper arms; at the urging of Kin’s fingers he bends his arms at the elbow. Kin wraps the rope around and around, tying Ren’s arms against his chest. He finishes by tying the rope into a bow in the middle of Ren’s chest.
Kin nudges Ren’s knees apart and carefully helps him lean forward after taking the vial from him. It looks like a difficult position to be in; Junno runs gentle fingers along Koki’s spine and murmurs, “Is this okay?”
Koki grunts quietly, then whispers, “Yes.”
Kin sits back, admiring the view. Ren’s arms are tied together in front of his chest and support most of his weight. His brow is furrowed as he takes deep breaths, his spine arches prettily, and his legs are spread wide open. He makes quite the picture, and Kin savors it for a moment.
Finally Kin opens the vial of oil and drizzles some onto his fingers. He slowly trails them down Ren’s crease, then slips a single finger into his opening. Ren gasps at the intrusion and does his best to stay still.
Kin stops moving his hand, leaving Ren on edge. He waits a few moments, then swirls his finger around and out; the next time he pushes in he adds another finger. It’s very enjoyable, to say the least, watching the way Ren shudders beneath him, gasping and mewling.
Kin deems Ren ready enough for a thorough finger-fucking, and he pulls both fingers out, abruptly slipping them back inside. He spreads his fingers apart, sliding them out as he holds them apart. Ren makes a strangled noise as he tries to push back for more. Kin slaps him on the ass, then presses a third finger into Ren and wiggles them. Ren squeals at the movement, incapable of words. It’s just the state Kin likes to tease his playthings into, and he murmurs encouragement, nonsense words to soothe Ren.
Ren is panting under his ministrations, forehead and back covered with a faint sheen of sweat. His mouth is slack from the force of Kin’s fingers, eyes open but focused on nothing. Kin pulls his fingers and a whine from Ren, then slicks his cock and thrusts inside. He simply stops, and waits for Ren to wriggle against him.
Kin strokes a palm down the length of Ren’s back, then rests his hands on Ren’s hips to support him as he pulls out and slides back in. He starts slowly; it wouldn’t do to hurt Ren too badly. As soon as Ren begins babbling bits of words, Kin speeds up. His fingers dig into Ren’s hips, hard enough to leave marks as he begins to thrust with abandon.
It would be problematic if Ren’s cries were any louder; Kin is satisfied with the way he bound Ren just tightly enough to restrict loud moans. He’s still capable of gasps and begging with half-formed syllables, and that’s more than enough for Kin. It’s as Ren is finally gasping out the most coherent words since Kin began properly fucking him that he begins to tighten around his dick, and Kin has to press in even harder. He slips a hand around Ren’s neglected cock, stroking him roughly in rhythm with his thrusts.
Kin relentlessly pounds into Ren, grunting with the force he has to use. Judging from the way Ren’s noises have gone softer, Kin thinks he’s close. That’s fine, but Kin wants to have final say over Ren’s release. He slides his hand to the base of Ren’s cock, then squeezes it hard. The way Ren freezes and finally lets a broken sob slip from his mouth is all that Kin needs to find his release, hips snapping seemingly hard enough to bruise them both.
At the last second, Kin pulls out, spilling his orgasm all over the backs of Ren’s thighs. He relinquishes his hold on Ren’s cock, feeling another wave of pleasure at the whimper that falls from Ren’s lips at the same moment he comes over Kin’s hand.
It takes everything in Kin’s willpower not to simply slump forward over Ren’s back; instead he pulls himself away and gently helps Ren onto his side. Kin stands, letting his trousers fall to the floor away from the mess, and kneels in front of Ren.
Ren is simply lying on his side, eyes closed as he catches his breath. Strands of his hair have fallen in his face, plastered against the sweat cooling his skin. Kin pulls at the knot binding Ren’s arms, loosening it before coaxing Ren to his knees so he can unwind the rope.
Koki rests his head against Junno’s shoulder as he quietly fusses with the rope. “How are you feeling, Koki?” he asks, barely tilting his head to whisper directly into Koki’s ear.
“Tired,” is all Koki can reply with as he tries to bury his face further into Junno’s neck. He’s silent for another moment, and then adds, “Sticky too.”
Junno chuckles a little as he finally finishes with the rope. “You can stand, right? You know I can’t sleep in the state we’re in.”
Koki grumbles a bit, but stands with Junno’s help. He allows Junno to guide him to the bath and watches as Junno finally peels off his mesh shirt and headband as he twists the taps. Junno looks over his shoulder at Koki, unable to keep the mirth from his voice.
“Ren-chan, are you up for round two? I think there are ways we can use your tailor’s implements creatively.”
Koki whimpers behind him.