silence of fireflies/trope and kink bingo fill
Title: Silence of Fireflies
Pairing/Group: Taguchi Junnosuke/Tanaka Koki
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, because dubious consent.
Word Count: 1358
Summary: Koki's a bit tired of being bored.
Notes: Written for the au:circus square of my trope_bingo card, as well as the suspension square of my kink_bingo card. This makes a bingo for trope, and a blackout for kink!
It's midsummer, hot and sticky and uncomfortable, and Koki never wants to leave the cool of indoors. Except he has to, because he's been shut in so long that he's almost forgotten what the outside world is like, not to mention how bored he's gotten.
However, he can't stand the thought of going out in the scorching heat. Koki waits until the last rays of the sun are a murky orange purple to leave his flat. Surely he'll be able to find something to do. Maybe there will be a street festival, or something going on at a club.
Koki wanders the streets aimlessly, the sounds of the city streets mixing with the faint song of crickets. It's relaxing, and he feels much better, even if he's a little uncomfortable from the humidity. He's not far from the neighborhood park when he hears it-- there's a commotion of drums and something reedy sounding. Interest piqued, Koki walks a little faster.
The grounds of the park are completely different from how Koki remembers them. There are brightly colored lanterns strung along the main path, and they lead to a tent, huge and black and white-striped. He's glad he'd actually left the house, and Koki steps through the flap.
Even though the sounds he'd heard from afar were chaotic and sounded like a crowd, the tent is dark and empty. It’s actually a little creepy, but the light from the full moon filters through the fluttering tarpaulin, so Koki isn’t completely blind. From the center of the ring, crimson lengths of silk hang, and Koki feels compelled to look more closely.
He steps over the ring, careful not to trip over the wood, and shivers. Somehow, it’s cooler here than it is just on the other side of the dividing line. Koki ignores it in favor of reaching out for the silks; they’re cool to the touch, just like he’d thought they would be, smooth and slippery and a little stretchy. He’s seen this kind of thing before, flexible ladies tying themselves in knots high in the air, and Koki wonders what that would be like. Probably too high for his tastes; he’s not as much of a daredevil these days as when he was younger.
Koki is lost in thought when he feels it. He's not alone anymore; it feels as if someone is staring a hole in the back of his neck, and he breaks out in goosebumps. He lets go of the silks and turns, but there isn't anything to see.
The slightest touch against his bare arm has Koki whirling back around, tangling one of the lengths of crimson around himself. Footsteps ring out even though there's only bare earth under the big top.
"What have we got here?" The voice echoes in the stillness, and Koki swallows. Even if he could find his voice, he's not at all sure he'd want to respond. “A visitor, it seems. It’s been some time since we’ve had one.”
The owner of the voice steps into view. He’s taller than Koki, dark hair and darker eyes that seem to have a faint glow. He reaches up, one calloused hand cupping Koki’s chin, and tilts his face from side to side. Koki feels his cheeks flush, and he tries to look away; the stranger in front of him isn’t having any of that, though.
“Now, now. You’re meant to be here. You always were. Don’t be frightened.” The man lets go of Koki’s face just to trail his hands everywhere he can reach, his touch light and inquisitive. It’s everything he can do to stay still; besides, Koki’s still tangled in the silk. “You know, this is my area of expertise, and that means I get to keep you. It’s only polite to introduce ourselves. Call me Junno. Your name, pet?”
Koki fidgets again, still trying to get free. Junno’s fingers bear down on his arm in a stern prompt, and he answers. “My name is Koki.” He glances away, wondering why he doesn’t feel as alarmed as he probably should be.
“Delightful,” Junno says, right against Koki’s neck. Something flutters in his chest and Koki leans into Junno’s touch as well as he can; both of his arms are tangled now. That doesn’t matter though. What does matter is the fervent way Junno is whispering against his skin and pulling open his shirt.
Koki feels a tug against his arms, and looks down to watch as Junno deftly releases him from the silk holding him in place. He’s only free for a moment, just long enough for Junno to pull his shirt sleeves away; once Junno’s done that, he holds Koki’s wrists together and he can only watch in stunned silence as the material caresses his shoulders and wraps its way down his arms. When it reaches his wrists, the silk crosses itself and binds them together.
“This will be fun,” Junno murmurs, grinning as he raises Koki’s arms above his head. Moments later, Koki can barely feel the earth beneath him; only his tiptoes scrape, just barely.
He doesn’t have long to think about that, about feeling nearly weightless; Koki doesn’t even feel a strain against his shoulder blades. Junno’s hands are all over him, tickling and pinching and unfastening his shorts. One of them slips inside Koki’s pants, and he gasps at how the callouses feel against him as Junno strokes him to full hardness. He can’t keep in his surprised gasp, and Junno chuckles against his throat. “Knew you’d like that.”
The next few minutes pass in a flash, and before he knows it, the only thing covering Koki is the bindings around his arms. Maybe he should feel a little embarrassed, maybe even chilly, but he doesn’t. He simply wants Junno to touch him.
“Oh, if only you could see what a lovely picture you make,” Junno says, mostly to himself, before crowding Koki again. His hands are everywhere, his lips pressing against Koki’s, and Koki can barely keep up. Too soon, Junno pulls away, only to press in from behind him, nuzzling against the nape of his neck and dragging his hands down Koki’s front and roughly gripping his cock.
Koki doesn’t particularly care what he looks like at the moment; all he wants is for Junno to keep touching him. When Junno finally starts stroking him, Koki thinks he might have actually said it out loud, but there are more important things for him to worry about; namely, how he can get more friction. As it is, Koki’s hands are in a useless position for him to grip his binds, and there’s no way for him to brace his feet against the ground.
Junno seems to sense his frustration and speeds up, pressing against the length of Koki’s back. Koki can feel that Junno is just as hard, but he isn’t doing anything to get more contact with his skin. “Don’t you worry about that, pet,” Junno whispers against his ear before biting down against the nape of his neck.
“Please,” Koki starts, unsure of what he’s even asking for. “Please.”
Junno doesn’t respond; he only twists his wrist and pulls more broken noises from Koki. He isn’t going to last for very much longer, and Koki tries to gasp out a warning. Junno seems to realize, but he keeps his rhythm insistent and intense, and Koki’s vision blanks when he comes, crying out as his toes curl and his hands clutch against nothing.
Koki isn’t sure how much time has passed when he wakes. He’s still naked, though the silk that had been holding him covers him now. Junno is standing above him, a serene smile on his face; behind him, Koki can make out several shadows. They seem to be talking amongst themselves, but Koki can’t make out any words. All he can focus on is the spectral lights floating around the group.
“You’ll be coming with us now, Koki,” Junno says. The figures behind him murmur in agreement; if Koki had to guess, they sound pleased.
He’s pleased too; his days of boredom seem to finally be over.
Pairing/Group: Taguchi Junnosuke/Tanaka Koki
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, because dubious consent.
Word Count: 1358
Summary: Koki's a bit tired of being bored.
Notes: Written for the au:circus square of my trope_bingo card, as well as the suspension square of my kink_bingo card. This makes a bingo for trope, and a blackout for kink!
It's midsummer, hot and sticky and uncomfortable, and Koki never wants to leave the cool of indoors. Except he has to, because he's been shut in so long that he's almost forgotten what the outside world is like, not to mention how bored he's gotten.
However, he can't stand the thought of going out in the scorching heat. Koki waits until the last rays of the sun are a murky orange purple to leave his flat. Surely he'll be able to find something to do. Maybe there will be a street festival, or something going on at a club.
Koki wanders the streets aimlessly, the sounds of the city streets mixing with the faint song of crickets. It's relaxing, and he feels much better, even if he's a little uncomfortable from the humidity. He's not far from the neighborhood park when he hears it-- there's a commotion of drums and something reedy sounding. Interest piqued, Koki walks a little faster.
The grounds of the park are completely different from how Koki remembers them. There are brightly colored lanterns strung along the main path, and they lead to a tent, huge and black and white-striped. He's glad he'd actually left the house, and Koki steps through the flap.
Even though the sounds he'd heard from afar were chaotic and sounded like a crowd, the tent is dark and empty. It’s actually a little creepy, but the light from the full moon filters through the fluttering tarpaulin, so Koki isn’t completely blind. From the center of the ring, crimson lengths of silk hang, and Koki feels compelled to look more closely.
He steps over the ring, careful not to trip over the wood, and shivers. Somehow, it’s cooler here than it is just on the other side of the dividing line. Koki ignores it in favor of reaching out for the silks; they’re cool to the touch, just like he’d thought they would be, smooth and slippery and a little stretchy. He’s seen this kind of thing before, flexible ladies tying themselves in knots high in the air, and Koki wonders what that would be like. Probably too high for his tastes; he’s not as much of a daredevil these days as when he was younger.
Koki is lost in thought when he feels it. He's not alone anymore; it feels as if someone is staring a hole in the back of his neck, and he breaks out in goosebumps. He lets go of the silks and turns, but there isn't anything to see.
The slightest touch against his bare arm has Koki whirling back around, tangling one of the lengths of crimson around himself. Footsteps ring out even though there's only bare earth under the big top.
"What have we got here?" The voice echoes in the stillness, and Koki swallows. Even if he could find his voice, he's not at all sure he'd want to respond. “A visitor, it seems. It’s been some time since we’ve had one.”
The owner of the voice steps into view. He’s taller than Koki, dark hair and darker eyes that seem to have a faint glow. He reaches up, one calloused hand cupping Koki’s chin, and tilts his face from side to side. Koki feels his cheeks flush, and he tries to look away; the stranger in front of him isn’t having any of that, though.
“Now, now. You’re meant to be here. You always were. Don’t be frightened.” The man lets go of Koki’s face just to trail his hands everywhere he can reach, his touch light and inquisitive. It’s everything he can do to stay still; besides, Koki’s still tangled in the silk. “You know, this is my area of expertise, and that means I get to keep you. It’s only polite to introduce ourselves. Call me Junno. Your name, pet?”
Koki fidgets again, still trying to get free. Junno’s fingers bear down on his arm in a stern prompt, and he answers. “My name is Koki.” He glances away, wondering why he doesn’t feel as alarmed as he probably should be.
“Delightful,” Junno says, right against Koki’s neck. Something flutters in his chest and Koki leans into Junno’s touch as well as he can; both of his arms are tangled now. That doesn’t matter though. What does matter is the fervent way Junno is whispering against his skin and pulling open his shirt.
Koki feels a tug against his arms, and looks down to watch as Junno deftly releases him from the silk holding him in place. He’s only free for a moment, just long enough for Junno to pull his shirt sleeves away; once Junno’s done that, he holds Koki’s wrists together and he can only watch in stunned silence as the material caresses his shoulders and wraps its way down his arms. When it reaches his wrists, the silk crosses itself and binds them together.
“This will be fun,” Junno murmurs, grinning as he raises Koki’s arms above his head. Moments later, Koki can barely feel the earth beneath him; only his tiptoes scrape, just barely.
He doesn’t have long to think about that, about feeling nearly weightless; Koki doesn’t even feel a strain against his shoulder blades. Junno’s hands are all over him, tickling and pinching and unfastening his shorts. One of them slips inside Koki’s pants, and he gasps at how the callouses feel against him as Junno strokes him to full hardness. He can’t keep in his surprised gasp, and Junno chuckles against his throat. “Knew you’d like that.”
The next few minutes pass in a flash, and before he knows it, the only thing covering Koki is the bindings around his arms. Maybe he should feel a little embarrassed, maybe even chilly, but he doesn’t. He simply wants Junno to touch him.
“Oh, if only you could see what a lovely picture you make,” Junno says, mostly to himself, before crowding Koki again. His hands are everywhere, his lips pressing against Koki’s, and Koki can barely keep up. Too soon, Junno pulls away, only to press in from behind him, nuzzling against the nape of his neck and dragging his hands down Koki’s front and roughly gripping his cock.
Koki doesn’t particularly care what he looks like at the moment; all he wants is for Junno to keep touching him. When Junno finally starts stroking him, Koki thinks he might have actually said it out loud, but there are more important things for him to worry about; namely, how he can get more friction. As it is, Koki’s hands are in a useless position for him to grip his binds, and there’s no way for him to brace his feet against the ground.
Junno seems to sense his frustration and speeds up, pressing against the length of Koki’s back. Koki can feel that Junno is just as hard, but he isn’t doing anything to get more contact with his skin. “Don’t you worry about that, pet,” Junno whispers against his ear before biting down against the nape of his neck.
“Please,” Koki starts, unsure of what he’s even asking for. “Please.”
Junno doesn’t respond; he only twists his wrist and pulls more broken noises from Koki. He isn’t going to last for very much longer, and Koki tries to gasp out a warning. Junno seems to realize, but he keeps his rhythm insistent and intense, and Koki’s vision blanks when he comes, crying out as his toes curl and his hands clutch against nothing.
Koki isn’t sure how much time has passed when he wakes. He’s still naked, though the silk that had been holding him covers him now. Junno is standing above him, a serene smile on his face; behind him, Koki can make out several shadows. They seem to be talking amongst themselves, but Koki can’t make out any words. All he can focus on is the spectral lights floating around the group.
“You’ll be coming with us now, Koki,” Junno says. The figures behind him murmur in agreement; if Koki had to guess, they sound pleased.
He’s pleased too; his days of boredom seem to finally be over.