Ohmiya SK fic: On Sunday
Title: On Sunday
Author: Mitsuhachi
Pairing: Ohmiya SK
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1,182
Notes: I recognize that “shibari” doesn’t mean the same thing in Japan as it’s come to be used to in the west. That doesn’t make me any stronger when presented with Ohno making the face and saying, “I like shibari. <3” like that. I mean really. If Arashi keeps turning up stuff like this, I just can’t be held accountable for what I might do. Also, huge thanks to Darkeyedwolf for the beta, and for getting me into this fandom in the first place. Anything worth reading in this fic is entirely blamed on her.
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with J-Storm or Arashi in any way, obviously don’t own the boys or even seriously think this is the sort of thing that really happens (Though I wouldn’t complain if it did-those boys are HOT).
/edit: ALKJGDLSDHG!!! Omg, guys: Super-awesome fanart in the comments. GO LOOK. It's kind of win. Like. A lot.
“Hey,” Ohno said softly, looking up from where he’d been sketching the glow from the TV monitor on Nino’s face. “Can we try something?”
He’d just beaten the last temple in his Zelda game, so Nino switched the machine off without worrying about trying to find a new save-point. “I’m game. Whacha want, Captain?” Ohno just got up and headed into the other room, wiping charcoal smudges from his fingers onto the thighs of his blue jeans in long dark strokes as Nino padded barefoot after him, wondering what Leader had in mind now.
Nino had to admit, though, that the thick length of cherry-red rope Ohno was pulling out of his dresser wasn’t what he’d been expecting, as much as you could expect anything from a guy so easy to talk into weird ideas. Nino leaned up against the doorframe a little hesitantly, watching as Ohno carefully measured out the rope, folding it in half.
Something of his apprehension must have communicated itself to Oh-chan, though; he looked up and smiled vaguely at Nino. “I saw some photos in an art book, yeah? And I thought, ‘I want to try that.’ It’s no good though?” He’d stopped fussing with the rope, looking calmly at Nino like he’d be just as happy to go back to sketching if this was too much, and Nino held that open gaze for a long moment before reaching up to pull his shirt off by the collar.
“Nope. If it’s Oh-chan, then that’s ok,” Nino mumbled into the cotton. “You’d be in as much trouble as I would, if I got hurt or anything anyway.” Ohno’s soft smile widened a fraction, and he stepped forward to slip the loop of the doubled-over length of rope around the back of Nino’s neck while Nino fumbled nervously with the button on his cargos.
The backs of Oh-chan’s fingers brushed against Nino’s chest as he pulled the ends of the rope around to lie even and flat down the front of his body. Nino almost flinched at how hot they were, following their progress curiously as they made the first knot, just below his collar bone, and then slid down his chest to make another just below his ribs. They trailed distractedly across the muscles in his stomach, and Nino found himself shucking out of his pants, letting them fall to the floor and kicking them behind the bed, almost before he even realized that Oh-chan was frowning at him like that because they were in the way.
Leader had a way of looking at you, Nino thought-quiet, and so still, so full of some inner space you couldn’t ever quite reach, eyes fixed right on yours-that made it suddenly hard even to breathe. It froze you to an answering stillness, he thought, and Ohno took advantage of his open stance to take up the rope again, make a new knot to rest against the hollow of Nino’s hips. Ohno’s hands, impossibly soft and pale against Nino’s tanned skin, were brushing tantalizingly close to where Nino wanted them, gentle and teasing. Nino could feel himself getting hard under the attention.
Ohno poked the inside of Nino’s thigh to get him to spread his legs and, pulling the rope down between them, tied two more knots. The first settled just below the base of his cock, pressing against his balls and pushing them down away from his body; the other was far enough back that it slipped between the cheeks of his ass and teasing at his opening, distracting enough that it took him long moments to realize Oh-chan was muttering to himself as he wove the left-over rope through the double lines between the knots, pulling them into a tight net around Nino’s torso.
“Should have gotten the black rope after all, I think… The red looks really good, but it’s Sho-kun’s color, right? I couldn’t find orange-the woman looked at me so strangely, I was afraid she’d recognized me or something, though I still don’t see what’s so weird about orange rope if they have red ones. But maybe the black really would have been better…” Ohno’s voice was washing over him, and the rope was pulling tight around him, coarse and harsh like it was burning Oh-chan’s touch into his skin. “Maybe it would be better to go back and get it, and I could give this one to Sho-kun,” Ohno concluded, threading his fingers with Nino’s and giving them a light squeeze before guiding Nino’s hands back behind him, and Nino only managed a strangled noise that was more of a moan than anything so coherent as words in reply. He was almost painfully hard now.
Behind him, Ohno did something with the rope he couldn’t follow, and the abrasive texture of the rope wound over his thumbs and wrists until his arms were completely immobilized. He’d expected the vulnerability-being trapped and helpless to whatever your lover wanted from you was what people always did this sort of thing for, right? For the thrill? But he hadn’t expected the sensuality of it, the way the ropes forced his legs to spread, pulling tight against his cock when he tried to stand with them together, the way the rough texture of the ropes curled around his chest like an embrace, teasing his nipples into stiff, aching buds, or the way being unable to touch made him hyper-aware of every time Ohno’s long elegant fingers brushed his skin.
“You like this,” Ohno observed, somewhat unnecessarily in Nino’s opinion. “You’re beautiful like this, you know?” Ohno trailed his fingers down Nino’s thighs, blatantly and appreciatively looking him over. “Your cheeks are flushed a little-the red brings it out, or I wouldn’t have noticed-and the ropes show off the way you’re breathing so hard.” Nino moaned and arched his hips towards where Ohno’s hands were still caressing him; the movement made the rope-knots brush up against the base of his cock and press hard at his opening. “I want you.”
Nino only got as far as, “Oh-“ before coming hard onto the wood of Leader’s bedroom floor. Ohno reached up and pulled something, and the whole work came unraveled surprisingly quickly; Nino was still trying to catch his breath when Oh-chan cuddled up to him, guiding him the few steps it took to collapse onto Ohno’s western-style bed. Nino leaned his head back against Oh-chan’s conveniently placed shoulder and looked up at him seriously for a minute.
“Two things,” he said finally. Ohno just watched him, listening quietly, and it occurred to Nino that he could pretty much ask Leader for just about anything, and the older boy would do his best to provide it, regardless of how difficult or outlandish the request might be. It was a little sobering, that trust.
“One, I want you to get your pants off so I can finish you off,” he said, flashing an upside-down grin at his partner, “and then two, I want you to call Sho-kun over so I can watch you do that again.”
Author: Mitsuhachi
Pairing: Ohmiya SK
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1,182
Notes: I recognize that “shibari” doesn’t mean the same thing in Japan as it’s come to be used to in the west. That doesn’t make me any stronger when presented with Ohno making the face and saying, “I like shibari. <3” like that. I mean really. If Arashi keeps turning up stuff like this, I just can’t be held accountable for what I might do. Also, huge thanks to Darkeyedwolf for the beta, and for getting me into this fandom in the first place. Anything worth reading in this fic is entirely blamed on her.
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with J-Storm or Arashi in any way, obviously don’t own the boys or even seriously think this is the sort of thing that really happens (Though I wouldn’t complain if it did-those boys are HOT).
/edit: ALKJGDLSDHG!!! Omg, guys: Super-awesome fanart in the comments. GO LOOK. It's kind of win. Like. A lot.
“Hey,” Ohno said softly, looking up from where he’d been sketching the glow from the TV monitor on Nino’s face. “Can we try something?”
He’d just beaten the last temple in his Zelda game, so Nino switched the machine off without worrying about trying to find a new save-point. “I’m game. Whacha want, Captain?” Ohno just got up and headed into the other room, wiping charcoal smudges from his fingers onto the thighs of his blue jeans in long dark strokes as Nino padded barefoot after him, wondering what Leader had in mind now.
Nino had to admit, though, that the thick length of cherry-red rope Ohno was pulling out of his dresser wasn’t what he’d been expecting, as much as you could expect anything from a guy so easy to talk into weird ideas. Nino leaned up against the doorframe a little hesitantly, watching as Ohno carefully measured out the rope, folding it in half.
Something of his apprehension must have communicated itself to Oh-chan, though; he looked up and smiled vaguely at Nino. “I saw some photos in an art book, yeah? And I thought, ‘I want to try that.’ It’s no good though?” He’d stopped fussing with the rope, looking calmly at Nino like he’d be just as happy to go back to sketching if this was too much, and Nino held that open gaze for a long moment before reaching up to pull his shirt off by the collar.
“Nope. If it’s Oh-chan, then that’s ok,” Nino mumbled into the cotton. “You’d be in as much trouble as I would, if I got hurt or anything anyway.” Ohno’s soft smile widened a fraction, and he stepped forward to slip the loop of the doubled-over length of rope around the back of Nino’s neck while Nino fumbled nervously with the button on his cargos.
The backs of Oh-chan’s fingers brushed against Nino’s chest as he pulled the ends of the rope around to lie even and flat down the front of his body. Nino almost flinched at how hot they were, following their progress curiously as they made the first knot, just below his collar bone, and then slid down his chest to make another just below his ribs. They trailed distractedly across the muscles in his stomach, and Nino found himself shucking out of his pants, letting them fall to the floor and kicking them behind the bed, almost before he even realized that Oh-chan was frowning at him like that because they were in the way.
Leader had a way of looking at you, Nino thought-quiet, and so still, so full of some inner space you couldn’t ever quite reach, eyes fixed right on yours-that made it suddenly hard even to breathe. It froze you to an answering stillness, he thought, and Ohno took advantage of his open stance to take up the rope again, make a new knot to rest against the hollow of Nino’s hips. Ohno’s hands, impossibly soft and pale against Nino’s tanned skin, were brushing tantalizingly close to where Nino wanted them, gentle and teasing. Nino could feel himself getting hard under the attention.
Ohno poked the inside of Nino’s thigh to get him to spread his legs and, pulling the rope down between them, tied two more knots. The first settled just below the base of his cock, pressing against his balls and pushing them down away from his body; the other was far enough back that it slipped between the cheeks of his ass and teasing at his opening, distracting enough that it took him long moments to realize Oh-chan was muttering to himself as he wove the left-over rope through the double lines between the knots, pulling them into a tight net around Nino’s torso.
“Should have gotten the black rope after all, I think… The red looks really good, but it’s Sho-kun’s color, right? I couldn’t find orange-the woman looked at me so strangely, I was afraid she’d recognized me or something, though I still don’t see what’s so weird about orange rope if they have red ones. But maybe the black really would have been better…” Ohno’s voice was washing over him, and the rope was pulling tight around him, coarse and harsh like it was burning Oh-chan’s touch into his skin. “Maybe it would be better to go back and get it, and I could give this one to Sho-kun,” Ohno concluded, threading his fingers with Nino’s and giving them a light squeeze before guiding Nino’s hands back behind him, and Nino only managed a strangled noise that was more of a moan than anything so coherent as words in reply. He was almost painfully hard now.
Behind him, Ohno did something with the rope he couldn’t follow, and the abrasive texture of the rope wound over his thumbs and wrists until his arms were completely immobilized. He’d expected the vulnerability-being trapped and helpless to whatever your lover wanted from you was what people always did this sort of thing for, right? For the thrill? But he hadn’t expected the sensuality of it, the way the ropes forced his legs to spread, pulling tight against his cock when he tried to stand with them together, the way the rough texture of the ropes curled around his chest like an embrace, teasing his nipples into stiff, aching buds, or the way being unable to touch made him hyper-aware of every time Ohno’s long elegant fingers brushed his skin.
“You like this,” Ohno observed, somewhat unnecessarily in Nino’s opinion. “You’re beautiful like this, you know?” Ohno trailed his fingers down Nino’s thighs, blatantly and appreciatively looking him over. “Your cheeks are flushed a little-the red brings it out, or I wouldn’t have noticed-and the ropes show off the way you’re breathing so hard.” Nino moaned and arched his hips towards where Ohno’s hands were still caressing him; the movement made the rope-knots brush up against the base of his cock and press hard at his opening. “I want you.”
Nino only got as far as, “Oh-“ before coming hard onto the wood of Leader’s bedroom floor. Ohno reached up and pulled something, and the whole work came unraveled surprisingly quickly; Nino was still trying to catch his breath when Oh-chan cuddled up to him, guiding him the few steps it took to collapse onto Ohno’s western-style bed. Nino leaned his head back against Oh-chan’s conveniently placed shoulder and looked up at him seriously for a minute.
“Two things,” he said finally. Ohno just watched him, listening quietly, and it occurred to Nino that he could pretty much ask Leader for just about anything, and the older boy would do his best to provide it, regardless of how difficult or outlandish the request might be. It was a little sobering, that trust.
“One, I want you to get your pants off so I can finish you off,” he said, flashing an upside-down grin at his partner, “and then two, I want you to call Sho-kun over so I can watch you do that again.”