Cherries Chap 5
Title : Cherries
Chap : 5/15
Pairing : Ruki/Uruha
Genre : Romance, angst, smut
Rating : R/17 for this one
Warning : swearing, sexual activity, smut, manxman relationship
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, if I did I wouldn’t be writing this - I’d be playing with Uruha’s hair like the big doll he is!
Summary : Uruha thinks he’s straight but he’s starting to have some disturbing feelings for his band mate - or are they really that disturbing?
Note : a longish chapter - it's the date! whoo-hoo! finally, more smut! *grins*
Having showered and changed, choosing his outfit with extra care, Uruha made his way to Ruki’s apartment. In the lift he studied himself in the mirrored walls. He knew the tight, dark pants suited him, hugging his slenderly muscled legs, making them seem even longer than normal.
He’d taken so long to get ready but now he wondered if he’d overdone it a little bit. Was he over-dressed? Would Ruki even notice the effort he’d made? Maybe he really shouldn’t have bothered so much.
He noticed he was playing with the hem of his shirt. Was he nervous? Hell, yes, he had to admit he felt physically sick at that moment. He hadn’t felt this bad since his first appearance on the school football team when he was twelve. He’d been so nervous he’d tripped over his own feet when the ball had come his way in the final ten minutes of the game, allowing the opposing team’s striker free run to inevitably score the winning goal. He still blushed when he thought of it, and right now he was feeling that same fear of failure and humiliation.
Standing in front of Ruki’s door, unable to knock, Uruha wondered just what exactly it was he was doing. Why had he asked the vocalist out on a date? Did he really like him that way? He knew he felt some attraction for the younger man. He was willing to admit that now, but he couldn’t put it into words, these feelings were so new and unknown to him.
This is ridiculous, he thought, I’m acting like some love sick schoolgirl embarking on her first romance.
He hesitated for a moment longer, taking a deep breath before knocking loudly.
Ruki took his time opening the door, or so it felt to Uruha, his nerves twanging painfully, and grinned at the sight of the guitarist.
‘Will I do?’ he asked, twirling round so Uruha could take in his whole appearance. Tight black trousers in a soft satin material that caught the light as he moved, a low-slung silver belt round his hips, another at his waist. A blood red silk shirt, open several buttons at the neck exposing his long, white throat, a silver chain with a skull pendant lying against his chest bone. A tailored black jacket with silver pinstripes completed the outfit. There appeared to be silver highlights in his hair, which fell in soft waves to his shoulders, and a hint of silver round his eyes which shone darkly up at Uruha.
‘You look amazing, Ruki-kun.’ He breathed, silently cursing himself for the way the words had left his mouth in a whisper, not bothering to check with his brain first.
‘Good!’ laughed the shorter man, cocking his head to one side as he gave Uruha’s outfit a quick once-over, ‘You’re looking very smart, Uru-chan. Are we going somewhere nice?’
The restaurant was modern and chic, not to mention expensive, all silver and black fittings and subdued lighting. Ruki had laughed, telling Uruha he’d made a good choice as the décor matched his outfit perfectly.
‘You must be psychic, Uru-chan,’ he giggled, smiling approvingly as he looked round the restaurant, noting the smart, fashionably severe uniforms of the waiters, the simple, clean lines of the furnishings, and the subtle yet costly pieces of art that adorned the walls.
Uruha watched the vocalist’s reaction, barely breathing. He was relieved Ruki liked the restaurant. It was important the younger man, who had a much greater interest in and appreciation of fashion and style than the guitarist, should think his friend also had good taste. Though even as he thought this, Uruha wondered why it should matter so much to him.
They ordered food and a fine bottle of French red wine, but sat in silence, Uruha not sure what to say and Ruki more than content to wait for the guitarist to speak. He almost felt guilty, sitting there with a smirk on his face, enjoying the other man’s discomfort, but it was just too much fun to even think about giving him a break just yet.
The food arrived and Uruha became mesmerised watching Ruki eat with an overtly physical enjoyment. Lifting each mouthful slowly to his lips, parted in anticipation, he’d chew slowly, eyelids fluttering in ecstasy, tiny groans of pleasure sounding in his throat, and then that quick, pink tongue would shoot out, licking his lips as he smacked them together with relish.
Uruha could barely eat his own food, as wonderful as it looked. He found himself refilling his wine glass yet again and simply gazed at the vocalist from beneath his lowered eyelashes.
It was only when the waiter appeared to clear their plates and asked if they would like to see the dessert menu that Uruha realised they hadn’t spoken throughout the entire meal.
‘Thank you, but we’ll just have the bill.’ It was Ruki who spoke, giving the waiter a perfect smile.
Humiliated to the core Uruha handed over his card. He’d been an idiot. Why hadn’t he spoken to Ruki? Why hadn’t he made a joke, or talked about the upcoming tour, or the food, or anything, anything at all to make a conversation? Ruki was bored and wanted to leave. He’d bored him. He’d failed. This was the worst date ever.
‘I’m sorry, Ruki-kun.’ He muttered, staring at the floor, ‘I’ll get you a taxi.’
‘Don’t be silly, Uru-chan,’ Ruki smiled up at the taller man, hugging his arm and propelling him along the pavement, ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
Uruha found himself helplessly stumbling next to the vocalist, his arm still held by the shorter man who was dragging him along with a big smile on his face. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. Ruki appeared to be happy, smiling and humming to himself as if they’d just had a wonderful time together at the restaurant instead of the awkward silent failure Uruha knew it to have been.
He was further stunned when Ruki started talking animatedly.
‘Thank you for taking me to that restaurant, Uru-chan,’ he bubbled, ‘I’d been wanting to try it since it opened. The food was delicious, ne.’ He grinned up at the guitarist, ‘Did you have fun?’
‘Eh?’ Uruha was struck dumb with confusion but it seemed it wasn’t necessary for him to reply as Ruki continued talking.
‘I appreciate that it wasn’t really your style, Uru-chan, I know you don’t always feel comfortable in places like that.’ He patted the guitarist’s arm, ‘You know, I kinda expected we’d go to a bar or something, so I was surprised. I would have been happy to go to some cheap Izakaya (*) with you, it was going out with you that mattered after all.’ He gave the captured arm a light squeeze, ‘I’m touched by your consideration, Uru-chan.’
All this praise was too much for Uruha. What was Ruki talking about? They’d had an absolutely horrible date, hadn’t they?
‘Ruki, are you serious? I-It was fucking terrible!’ he spluttered, ‘I didn’t speak to you the whole time, I couldn’t. I acted like an idiot. How can you stand there and say all that? I don’t deserve your praise. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the worst date you’ve ever been on.’
Uruha felt like running head first into the nearest wall. Yes, he’d chosen the restaurant knowing Ruki would be impressed. And yes, Ruki was right, it wasn’t his kind of place at all, but he’d wanted everything to be right for the vocalist. He’d wanted Ruki to know he’d done it for him.
But Ruki did know that, he’d just said so, hadn’t he?
‘Oh!’ realisation hit Uruha. The vocalist knew how uncomfortable he’d been, how desperate he was to impress him, and he’d appreciated it.
‘You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that Uru-chan?’ Ruki grinned, leaning up to place a quick kiss on his cheek, ‘An adorable idiot.’
‘Eh, yeah, I guess. I’m sorry Ruki-kun.’ Blushing deeply, yet smiling for the first time since he’d left his apartment that evening, Uruha gave Ruki a small bow of apology.
‘Don’t apologise, Baka-chan.’ Ruki chuckled, giving the guitarist’s arm a playful swipe, ‘But don’t put yourself out so much next time.’
Next time? There’d be a next time? Ruki was going to give him another chance. Uruha almost exploded with relief and happiness, impulsively hugging the shorter man and making him squeal.
They were standing near the entrance to a small park. Paper lanterns were strung along the pathways and some of the trees were spot-lit with coloured lights: it looked very inviting and romantic. Without hesitation Uruha pulled Ruki through the open gate, talking the initiative for a change and steering the younger man under the multi-coloured leaves.
They walked in silence for a while, a pleasant silence though, both men simply happy to be in the other’s company, both enjoying the beauty and tranquillity of their surroundings. It was a few minutes before Uruha realised he had his arm draped casually across Ruki’s shoulders, and the vocalist was nestled against him, one arm comfortably around his waist. The idea of the intimate picture they must be creating filled Uruha with warmth.
They stopped beneath a Maple tree. Ruki gazed up at the leaves, fluttering slightly in the soft breeze, sending refractions of coloured light to pattern the ground.
‘It’s beautiful, Uru-chan.’ he breathed, wrapping both arms round the guitarist’s waist, pulling him gently towards him. Uruha sighed contentedly, his eyes following the play of light around them. Ruki’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the guitarist, watched how the light softened his perfect skin, making it shine, how his blonde hair caught and reflected the colours, how his eyes shone brightly even in this subdued light.
‘You’re beautiful, Ruha.’
Meeting the vocalist’s eyes, Uruha gasped. The brown orbs fixed on his own were so dark, so soft, he was falling into their gaze, moving closer, lost in their depths as their lips came together with a gentle sigh. Soft, plush lips pressed hard to his own, trembling with desire, parting, their tongues joining in a dance, exploring and tasting each other.
Uruha groaned into the other’s mouth and felt the vocalist’s body push tighter against his own until there was no space between them and he was crushing Ruki to him, his mouth hungrily demanding more. He broke the kiss briefly, shoving Ruki roughly against the trunk of the tree, closing the gap between their bodies once more, his lips covering the vocalist’s face, his forehead, the temples, cheekbone, licking along his jaw line and finally tasting the soft, sweet flesh of his neck.
Ruki moaned as Uruha placed tiny kisses from his ear to his collar bone, alternating the gentle brush of his lips with nibbles and sucks, flicking his tongue to tease the tender flesh and causing the vocalist to cry out, his fingers clawing at Uruha’s shoulders.
Sensation took over as his hands found their way beneath Ruki’s jacket, feeling the muscles tense beneath the clinging silk of his shirt, feverishly running his palms down his waist, to his hips and behind, cupping his buttocks and squeezing hard, pulling him harder against his body and grinding his arousal against the vocalist’s own as Ruki groaned in his ear.
Ruki’s hand caught hold of Uruha’s hair and brought his face up to capture his lips in a bruising kiss, the other held firmly onto the back of his waistband, pulling him, coaching his movements, as their pelvises ground together in a rhythm that threatened to send both spiralling out of control.
Uruha growled in frustration as the younger man broke the kiss and pushed him back, holding him at arm’s length with surprising strength as Uruha tried futilely to return himself to his previous position.
Ruki smiled slyly at the guitarist before glancing across the wooded area to check they really were alone, and not about to be accidentally seen by any chance passer by. Satisfied with their apparent privacy he cocked his head to one side and regarded the guitarist with mock seriousness.
‘Are you sure you want to do this here, Uru-chan?’ he asked, smirking in quiet triumph at the way his bandmate’s eyes were narrowed and clouded with lust, at his breath that came in ragged pants through his parted, swollen lips, at his hands which still clawed imploringly at the vocalist’s own.
‘Maybe a little taste of what’s to come, eh?’
Ruki grinned, suddenly spinning the guitarist round, neatly reversing their positions.
‘My turn.’ he breathed against his ear, his tongue licking slowly and firmly over the lobe before taking it between his teeth and nipping gently, eliciting a low moan from Uruha. As his mouth worked over the throat of the other, Ruki’s hands slid slowly beneath Uruha’s shirt, ghosting gently over the tight muscles of his stomach and chest, then taking each nipple between thumb and forefinger he squeezed hard, making the guitarist cry out lustily, his head thrown back against the tree, his back arching and his hips bucking forward.
‘Quietly, Ruha.’ the vocalist whispered, his lips once again at the taller man’s ear as he removed his hands from beneath the shirt and deftly unbuttoned it, pushing the material to the sides and running his palms over the smooth flesh appreciatively.
His lips followed his hands, kissing, licking, sucking gently, freezing Uruha in place, entirely at the mercy of the vocalist’s caresses, his hands loosely pawing at Ruki’s shoulders, wanton gasps and moans catching in this throat.
Ruki swirled his tongue around a nipple, sucking the hard nub into his mouth, enjoying the way the guitarist’s chest jerked beneath his lips, and the throaty moans the taller man was fighting to control.
What little control Uruha had was almost lost when he felt the vocalist’s fingers brush lightly over his clothed erection.
‘Ru-ki!’ The name leaving his lips as a long moan, his stomach clenching with desire, his legs almost too weak to support him. He felt the vocalist’s nimble fingers undo his belt buckle and slowly pull the leather strap out, a quick flick as the button came undone and then pause, holding the zipper for a second before that too was open and Ruki’s hand was massaging his cock through the light cotton of his boxer shorts.
Ruki’s mouth was at his neck, nipping and nibbling the flesh lightly as his fingers traced up and down Uruha’s straining length.
The tumult of sensation and the tension in his body was becoming too much for Uruha to bear.
‘Ruki, please…’ he was panting, his body aching for release.
‘Tell me what you want, Ruha.’ Ruki’s deep tones were husky with lust, his breath hot on Uruha’s cheek.
‘Ungh, please.’ What did he want? He didn’t know. All he knew was that Ruki was making him feel like this and he wanted more. ‘Please Ruki, do … something.’
With a swift movement that left Uruha reeling Ruki dropped to his knees, pulling Uruha’s trousers and boxers down his thighs and freeing his cock momentarily before covering it with his mouth, moaning around the quivering member as he took its full length.
Uruha groaned as the wet heat of the vocalist’s mouth engulfed him, his hands fisting in the soft, dark hair, fire coursing through his body as Ruki pulled back and ran the tip of his tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, flicking over the head and probing at the slit, tasting the salty pre-cum.
Again he took the length into his mouth, sucking hard at the head and rolling his tongue against the shaft, pulling back once more only to suck it in deeper, building a rhythm to match Uruha’s slowly bucking hips. One hand wrapped around the base of Uruha’s cock, squeezing and releasing with each thrust into his mouth, the other cupping, squeezing and stroking Uruha’s balls, two fingers pressed firmly against the hard bridge of flesh behind, as the guitarist moaned Ruki’s name over and over, his hands flexing convulsively in Ruki’s hair.
‘Ah, Ruki, stop! I’m coming… Ruki, ah god…’
He expected Ruki to release him, to scoot back and finish him with his hand but the wet mouth sucked him in once more, harder, twice, three times and Uruha cried out as his fulfilment shot into Ruki’s mouth greeted by a low moan of satisfaction.
Panting hard, Uruha watched as Ruki swallowed his release then licked him clean, his tongue lovingly stroking up the shaft, chasing every last taste, his hands stroking Uruha’s thighs as the guitarist stroked the dark hair.
Smiling Ruki stood up and leant into Uruha, kissing him, gently pushing his tongue between the guitarist’s lips, allowing the taller man to taste himself and causing a deep groan to pass between them.
‘Time to go home, Uru-chan.’
(*) an Izakaya is half-way between a bar and a restaurant, with reasonably cheap food prepared from a set menu, to be shared between the customers while they drink.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed finally seeing some of Ruki's reactions to the situation - I thought we ought to know at least a little of what the horny little devil was feeling!
Chap 4
Chap 6
Chap : 5/15
Pairing : Ruki/Uruha
Genre : Romance, angst, smut
Rating : R/17 for this one
Warning : swearing, sexual activity, smut, manxman relationship
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, if I did I wouldn’t be writing this - I’d be playing with Uruha’s hair like the big doll he is!
Summary : Uruha thinks he’s straight but he’s starting to have some disturbing feelings for his band mate - or are they really that disturbing?
Note : a longish chapter - it's the date! whoo-hoo! finally, more smut! *grins*
Having showered and changed, choosing his outfit with extra care, Uruha made his way to Ruki’s apartment. In the lift he studied himself in the mirrored walls. He knew the tight, dark pants suited him, hugging his slenderly muscled legs, making them seem even longer than normal.
He’d taken so long to get ready but now he wondered if he’d overdone it a little bit. Was he over-dressed? Would Ruki even notice the effort he’d made? Maybe he really shouldn’t have bothered so much.
He noticed he was playing with the hem of his shirt. Was he nervous? Hell, yes, he had to admit he felt physically sick at that moment. He hadn’t felt this bad since his first appearance on the school football team when he was twelve. He’d been so nervous he’d tripped over his own feet when the ball had come his way in the final ten minutes of the game, allowing the opposing team’s striker free run to inevitably score the winning goal. He still blushed when he thought of it, and right now he was feeling that same fear of failure and humiliation.
Standing in front of Ruki’s door, unable to knock, Uruha wondered just what exactly it was he was doing. Why had he asked the vocalist out on a date? Did he really like him that way? He knew he felt some attraction for the younger man. He was willing to admit that now, but he couldn’t put it into words, these feelings were so new and unknown to him.
This is ridiculous, he thought, I’m acting like some love sick schoolgirl embarking on her first romance.
He hesitated for a moment longer, taking a deep breath before knocking loudly.
Ruki took his time opening the door, or so it felt to Uruha, his nerves twanging painfully, and grinned at the sight of the guitarist.
‘Will I do?’ he asked, twirling round so Uruha could take in his whole appearance. Tight black trousers in a soft satin material that caught the light as he moved, a low-slung silver belt round his hips, another at his waist. A blood red silk shirt, open several buttons at the neck exposing his long, white throat, a silver chain with a skull pendant lying against his chest bone. A tailored black jacket with silver pinstripes completed the outfit. There appeared to be silver highlights in his hair, which fell in soft waves to his shoulders, and a hint of silver round his eyes which shone darkly up at Uruha.
‘You look amazing, Ruki-kun.’ He breathed, silently cursing himself for the way the words had left his mouth in a whisper, not bothering to check with his brain first.
‘Good!’ laughed the shorter man, cocking his head to one side as he gave Uruha’s outfit a quick once-over, ‘You’re looking very smart, Uru-chan. Are we going somewhere nice?’
The restaurant was modern and chic, not to mention expensive, all silver and black fittings and subdued lighting. Ruki had laughed, telling Uruha he’d made a good choice as the décor matched his outfit perfectly.
‘You must be psychic, Uru-chan,’ he giggled, smiling approvingly as he looked round the restaurant, noting the smart, fashionably severe uniforms of the waiters, the simple, clean lines of the furnishings, and the subtle yet costly pieces of art that adorned the walls.
Uruha watched the vocalist’s reaction, barely breathing. He was relieved Ruki liked the restaurant. It was important the younger man, who had a much greater interest in and appreciation of fashion and style than the guitarist, should think his friend also had good taste. Though even as he thought this, Uruha wondered why it should matter so much to him.
They ordered food and a fine bottle of French red wine, but sat in silence, Uruha not sure what to say and Ruki more than content to wait for the guitarist to speak. He almost felt guilty, sitting there with a smirk on his face, enjoying the other man’s discomfort, but it was just too much fun to even think about giving him a break just yet.
The food arrived and Uruha became mesmerised watching Ruki eat with an overtly physical enjoyment. Lifting each mouthful slowly to his lips, parted in anticipation, he’d chew slowly, eyelids fluttering in ecstasy, tiny groans of pleasure sounding in his throat, and then that quick, pink tongue would shoot out, licking his lips as he smacked them together with relish.
Uruha could barely eat his own food, as wonderful as it looked. He found himself refilling his wine glass yet again and simply gazed at the vocalist from beneath his lowered eyelashes.
It was only when the waiter appeared to clear their plates and asked if they would like to see the dessert menu that Uruha realised they hadn’t spoken throughout the entire meal.
‘Thank you, but we’ll just have the bill.’ It was Ruki who spoke, giving the waiter a perfect smile.
Humiliated to the core Uruha handed over his card. He’d been an idiot. Why hadn’t he spoken to Ruki? Why hadn’t he made a joke, or talked about the upcoming tour, or the food, or anything, anything at all to make a conversation? Ruki was bored and wanted to leave. He’d bored him. He’d failed. This was the worst date ever.
‘I’m sorry, Ruki-kun.’ He muttered, staring at the floor, ‘I’ll get you a taxi.’
‘Don’t be silly, Uru-chan,’ Ruki smiled up at the taller man, hugging his arm and propelling him along the pavement, ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
Uruha found himself helplessly stumbling next to the vocalist, his arm still held by the shorter man who was dragging him along with a big smile on his face. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. Ruki appeared to be happy, smiling and humming to himself as if they’d just had a wonderful time together at the restaurant instead of the awkward silent failure Uruha knew it to have been.
He was further stunned when Ruki started talking animatedly.
‘Thank you for taking me to that restaurant, Uru-chan,’ he bubbled, ‘I’d been wanting to try it since it opened. The food was delicious, ne.’ He grinned up at the guitarist, ‘Did you have fun?’
‘Eh?’ Uruha was struck dumb with confusion but it seemed it wasn’t necessary for him to reply as Ruki continued talking.
‘I appreciate that it wasn’t really your style, Uru-chan, I know you don’t always feel comfortable in places like that.’ He patted the guitarist’s arm, ‘You know, I kinda expected we’d go to a bar or something, so I was surprised. I would have been happy to go to some cheap Izakaya (*) with you, it was going out with you that mattered after all.’ He gave the captured arm a light squeeze, ‘I’m touched by your consideration, Uru-chan.’
All this praise was too much for Uruha. What was Ruki talking about? They’d had an absolutely horrible date, hadn’t they?
‘Ruki, are you serious? I-It was fucking terrible!’ he spluttered, ‘I didn’t speak to you the whole time, I couldn’t. I acted like an idiot. How can you stand there and say all that? I don’t deserve your praise. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the worst date you’ve ever been on.’
Uruha felt like running head first into the nearest wall. Yes, he’d chosen the restaurant knowing Ruki would be impressed. And yes, Ruki was right, it wasn’t his kind of place at all, but he’d wanted everything to be right for the vocalist. He’d wanted Ruki to know he’d done it for him.
But Ruki did know that, he’d just said so, hadn’t he?
‘Oh!’ realisation hit Uruha. The vocalist knew how uncomfortable he’d been, how desperate he was to impress him, and he’d appreciated it.
‘You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that Uru-chan?’ Ruki grinned, leaning up to place a quick kiss on his cheek, ‘An adorable idiot.’
‘Eh, yeah, I guess. I’m sorry Ruki-kun.’ Blushing deeply, yet smiling for the first time since he’d left his apartment that evening, Uruha gave Ruki a small bow of apology.
‘Don’t apologise, Baka-chan.’ Ruki chuckled, giving the guitarist’s arm a playful swipe, ‘But don’t put yourself out so much next time.’
Next time? There’d be a next time? Ruki was going to give him another chance. Uruha almost exploded with relief and happiness, impulsively hugging the shorter man and making him squeal.
They were standing near the entrance to a small park. Paper lanterns were strung along the pathways and some of the trees were spot-lit with coloured lights: it looked very inviting and romantic. Without hesitation Uruha pulled Ruki through the open gate, talking the initiative for a change and steering the younger man under the multi-coloured leaves.
They walked in silence for a while, a pleasant silence though, both men simply happy to be in the other’s company, both enjoying the beauty and tranquillity of their surroundings. It was a few minutes before Uruha realised he had his arm draped casually across Ruki’s shoulders, and the vocalist was nestled against him, one arm comfortably around his waist. The idea of the intimate picture they must be creating filled Uruha with warmth.
They stopped beneath a Maple tree. Ruki gazed up at the leaves, fluttering slightly in the soft breeze, sending refractions of coloured light to pattern the ground.
‘It’s beautiful, Uru-chan.’ he breathed, wrapping both arms round the guitarist’s waist, pulling him gently towards him. Uruha sighed contentedly, his eyes following the play of light around them. Ruki’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the guitarist, watched how the light softened his perfect skin, making it shine, how his blonde hair caught and reflected the colours, how his eyes shone brightly even in this subdued light.
‘You’re beautiful, Ruha.’
Meeting the vocalist’s eyes, Uruha gasped. The brown orbs fixed on his own were so dark, so soft, he was falling into their gaze, moving closer, lost in their depths as their lips came together with a gentle sigh. Soft, plush lips pressed hard to his own, trembling with desire, parting, their tongues joining in a dance, exploring and tasting each other.
Uruha groaned into the other’s mouth and felt the vocalist’s body push tighter against his own until there was no space between them and he was crushing Ruki to him, his mouth hungrily demanding more. He broke the kiss briefly, shoving Ruki roughly against the trunk of the tree, closing the gap between their bodies once more, his lips covering the vocalist’s face, his forehead, the temples, cheekbone, licking along his jaw line and finally tasting the soft, sweet flesh of his neck.
Ruki moaned as Uruha placed tiny kisses from his ear to his collar bone, alternating the gentle brush of his lips with nibbles and sucks, flicking his tongue to tease the tender flesh and causing the vocalist to cry out, his fingers clawing at Uruha’s shoulders.
Sensation took over as his hands found their way beneath Ruki’s jacket, feeling the muscles tense beneath the clinging silk of his shirt, feverishly running his palms down his waist, to his hips and behind, cupping his buttocks and squeezing hard, pulling him harder against his body and grinding his arousal against the vocalist’s own as Ruki groaned in his ear.
Ruki’s hand caught hold of Uruha’s hair and brought his face up to capture his lips in a bruising kiss, the other held firmly onto the back of his waistband, pulling him, coaching his movements, as their pelvises ground together in a rhythm that threatened to send both spiralling out of control.
Uruha growled in frustration as the younger man broke the kiss and pushed him back, holding him at arm’s length with surprising strength as Uruha tried futilely to return himself to his previous position.
Ruki smiled slyly at the guitarist before glancing across the wooded area to check they really were alone, and not about to be accidentally seen by any chance passer by. Satisfied with their apparent privacy he cocked his head to one side and regarded the guitarist with mock seriousness.
‘Are you sure you want to do this here, Uru-chan?’ he asked, smirking in quiet triumph at the way his bandmate’s eyes were narrowed and clouded with lust, at his breath that came in ragged pants through his parted, swollen lips, at his hands which still clawed imploringly at the vocalist’s own.
‘Maybe a little taste of what’s to come, eh?’
Ruki grinned, suddenly spinning the guitarist round, neatly reversing their positions.
‘My turn.’ he breathed against his ear, his tongue licking slowly and firmly over the lobe before taking it between his teeth and nipping gently, eliciting a low moan from Uruha. As his mouth worked over the throat of the other, Ruki’s hands slid slowly beneath Uruha’s shirt, ghosting gently over the tight muscles of his stomach and chest, then taking each nipple between thumb and forefinger he squeezed hard, making the guitarist cry out lustily, his head thrown back against the tree, his back arching and his hips bucking forward.
‘Quietly, Ruha.’ the vocalist whispered, his lips once again at the taller man’s ear as he removed his hands from beneath the shirt and deftly unbuttoned it, pushing the material to the sides and running his palms over the smooth flesh appreciatively.
His lips followed his hands, kissing, licking, sucking gently, freezing Uruha in place, entirely at the mercy of the vocalist’s caresses, his hands loosely pawing at Ruki’s shoulders, wanton gasps and moans catching in this throat.
Ruki swirled his tongue around a nipple, sucking the hard nub into his mouth, enjoying the way the guitarist’s chest jerked beneath his lips, and the throaty moans the taller man was fighting to control.
What little control Uruha had was almost lost when he felt the vocalist’s fingers brush lightly over his clothed erection.
‘Ru-ki!’ The name leaving his lips as a long moan, his stomach clenching with desire, his legs almost too weak to support him. He felt the vocalist’s nimble fingers undo his belt buckle and slowly pull the leather strap out, a quick flick as the button came undone and then pause, holding the zipper for a second before that too was open and Ruki’s hand was massaging his cock through the light cotton of his boxer shorts.
Ruki’s mouth was at his neck, nipping and nibbling the flesh lightly as his fingers traced up and down Uruha’s straining length.
The tumult of sensation and the tension in his body was becoming too much for Uruha to bear.
‘Ruki, please…’ he was panting, his body aching for release.
‘Tell me what you want, Ruha.’ Ruki’s deep tones were husky with lust, his breath hot on Uruha’s cheek.
‘Ungh, please.’ What did he want? He didn’t know. All he knew was that Ruki was making him feel like this and he wanted more. ‘Please Ruki, do … something.’
With a swift movement that left Uruha reeling Ruki dropped to his knees, pulling Uruha’s trousers and boxers down his thighs and freeing his cock momentarily before covering it with his mouth, moaning around the quivering member as he took its full length.
Uruha groaned as the wet heat of the vocalist’s mouth engulfed him, his hands fisting in the soft, dark hair, fire coursing through his body as Ruki pulled back and ran the tip of his tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, flicking over the head and probing at the slit, tasting the salty pre-cum.
Again he took the length into his mouth, sucking hard at the head and rolling his tongue against the shaft, pulling back once more only to suck it in deeper, building a rhythm to match Uruha’s slowly bucking hips. One hand wrapped around the base of Uruha’s cock, squeezing and releasing with each thrust into his mouth, the other cupping, squeezing and stroking Uruha’s balls, two fingers pressed firmly against the hard bridge of flesh behind, as the guitarist moaned Ruki’s name over and over, his hands flexing convulsively in Ruki’s hair.
‘Ah, Ruki, stop! I’m coming… Ruki, ah god…’
He expected Ruki to release him, to scoot back and finish him with his hand but the wet mouth sucked him in once more, harder, twice, three times and Uruha cried out as his fulfilment shot into Ruki’s mouth greeted by a low moan of satisfaction.
Panting hard, Uruha watched as Ruki swallowed his release then licked him clean, his tongue lovingly stroking up the shaft, chasing every last taste, his hands stroking Uruha’s thighs as the guitarist stroked the dark hair.
Smiling Ruki stood up and leant into Uruha, kissing him, gently pushing his tongue between the guitarist’s lips, allowing the taller man to taste himself and causing a deep groan to pass between them.
‘Time to go home, Uru-chan.’
(*) an Izakaya is half-way between a bar and a restaurant, with reasonably cheap food prepared from a set menu, to be shared between the customers while they drink.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed finally seeing some of Ruki's reactions to the situation - I thought we ought to know at least a little of what the horny little devil was feeling!
Chap 4
Chap 6