|Twenty: Subaru's Birthday
||[Sep. 23rd, 2007|01:04 pm]
Title: Subaru's Birthday
Notes: Happy Birthday Subs.
It had been eleven days now since Shota’s birthday, and yet only two days since Maruyama had returned to his own home. Subaru had certainly enjoyed the solid week and a bit of fantastic threesomes with the two males he loved most, but he wasn’t as fit or young as they were, and with another year ticking over for him, he was really feeling it.
“Are you alright?” Shota asked, dropping onto the couch beside his lover and nuzzling him suggestively. Yasuda might have been able to maintain the sexfest for a few more days, but not Subaru.
“I’m tired.” The twenty-six-year-old replied, pouting.
“Does this mean you don’t want birthday sex?” Shota’s hands were already inside Subaru’s shirt, and strangely enough it wasn’t too hard for the singer to ignore him. He pushed the young guitarist’s hands away.
“No, I don’t. Haven’t we had enough of that lately?”
Shota pouted, because he certainly wouldn’t have minded some birthday sex.
“What would you like then?”
Subaru mumbled something about being tired and old, curling up into a ball so his words were lost to his knees. Shota sighed and got up.
Ten minutes later he’d successfully coaxed Subaru into the car, insisting they should have lunch. When the drive took longer than half an hour, Subaru fell asleep. This had been part of Shota’s plan, hinging on Subaru being too tired and grumpy to notice they were driving in circles. Grinning, Yasuda commenced the real drive to his destination.
When Subaru awoke, the cityscape had been replaced by trees, and Shota was trying to guide him out of the car and into a large wooden cabin with a rather suspicious chimney.
“Apparently it’s the favourite thing of tired, old men.” Shota risked as he brought said Ossan to his feet. “So you should like it.”
Subaru pouted a little at the jib, but allowed himself to be led inside to the private room Shota had booked. After an hour long massage that left him so relaxed he wasn’t sure he remembered how to use his muscles at all, Subaru was forced to concede
“Maybe birthday sex is in order...if you do all the work.”
Yasuda stopped putting on his yukata and giggled endearingly.
“Onsen now or later then?”
Subaru looked at the one part of his body that wasn’t completely limp.
“It’s hard now.”
Shota was on him in an instant, giving Subaru a blow job that he felt the guitarist must have been saving for a special occasion. The singer could only lie back and moan as Yasu’s tongue found every nerve ending and lavished them with insufferable ecstasy. Just when the first hint of orgasm began to curl Subaru’s toes, the younger male stopped. Before Subaru could protest – his ability to formulate a conscious thought higher than ‘mmgn’ being lost – Shota was back on him, sitting down on the singer’s cock and riding it determinedly.
“Sho-oh!” Was the sound of the singer’s orgasm.
“Shibuyan; I love yo-ooh!” Was the guitarist’s.
It took another thirty minutes for Subaru to reach enough of an upright state to get to the onsen.