|No, Kon, iluMOAR
||[Oct. 23rd, 2007|12:53 am]
Title: Save a drum, bang a drummer
Pairing: Ohkura/Yasada, Maru/Baru
Notes: For the lovely koneho, because she is awesome and awesome and oh god I need sleep. Um, this is AU, quite possibly the only AU I have ever written/will ever write. I had Flash! Bang! Abracadabra! very much in mind when I wrote this.
Yasuda Shota sighed and took another dejected sip of his cocktail. His best friend – Shibutani Subaru – had promised him a great night out (which was apparently exactly what he needed), dragged him into this questionable bar, and disappeared off within twenty minutes.
Shota tried to recall the events to see if there was any clue as to his friend’s whereabouts in them. They had arrived a little while after nine in the evening. Subaru had paid the cover charge for both of them; absolutely insistent that he was treating Shota to a good night. A rather attractive, effeminate young man had accepted Subaru’s money (Shota made sure to look away – it was impolite to watch people pay for you) and parted the curtain into a dimly lit bar. Yasu barely had enough time to admire the décor – colourful without being gaudy – before Subaru grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside. Soon he found himself seated in a cosy little booth near the stage with something that’s fruitiness was only exceeded by its alcohol content. Subaru had polished his off remarkably quickly, and waved at a waiter for another.
The waiter...Subaru had definitely flirted with him...maybe. He certainly looked worthy of a bit of flirting – warm brown eyes and a gorgeous smile adorned with an unreasonably cute mole. Shota couldn’t remember whether it was just the alcohol skewing his memories, or whether the waiter had winked back at Subaru. And then...five minutes later, Subaru had disappeared. There was probably something in that, but Shota for the life of him couldn’t figure out what.
It had been a while since Subaru had disappeared. Yasu wasn’t sure exactly – Subaru hadn’t let him wear his watch for fear he’d keep looking at it – but it was long enough for him to have finished his drink. The only logical option was to drink Subaru’s second, and virtually untouched, liquid hangover. Either the alcohol in the first drink had numbed him to the burn of that in the second, or Subaru had ordered plain fruit juice, because the second cocktail went down a lot smoother. Finally he relaxed and let himself look around a bit. The walls were draped in gold-trimmed red velvet, gathered in places to reveal ornate an ornate purple and gold wall motif. There were plenty of booths scattered around, all with cherry stained tables and couches upholstered with turquoise suede.
At one side of the room was a beautiful (and very well stocked) wooden bar, the other – the side Shota was sitting – a small stage. The band that had been playing when they had walked in had just finished their number, and the next act was preparing. A large taiko drum was brought out, and Shota perked up. Then the drummer walked out and Shota nearly fell out of his seat. He was long, lean, and absolutely gorgeous. His length – he’d have to be nearly six feet tall – was exaggerated by slim-fitting black trousers that left little to Shota’s imagination. As for his shirt, well, that left even less. It was buttoned down almost to his navel, and had all the appearance of wet white linen – clinging almost transparently to his torso and rippling deliciously every time he moved to strike his drum.
Shota wished Subaru was there to fanboy with him, and instantly he felt abandoned again and went into a sulk. He knew he should be enjoying the fantastic display of rhythm and athleticism on stage, but...Subaru! Shota finished the last of his friend’s drink in a single gulp, still undecided as to the alcohol content. He was startled when the seat beside him dipped and a low voice purred the word ‘hello’ in his ear.
“Hi.” Shota squeaked back, turning to face the voice, and finding it belonged to the drummer.
Up close, he was even better. His dark hair looked so soft and shiny that Yasuda had to stop himself reaching out and patting it. Or at least asking what brand of shampoo he used.
“I’m Tadayoshi.” The drummer told him, perfect plump lips curving back into a smirk once he’d stopped speaking.
“Shota.” Yasuda responded, mentally juggling an attempt to count the moles that dotted the drummer’s face and his continued search of the bar for his lost friend.
“Shota.” Tadayoshi purred. “Do you know what I am?”
Yasuda shook his head. The drummer’s smirk intensified.
“I am a whore.” He murmured, lips straying very close to Shota’s ear. “Come fuck me.”
”I...” There were several reasons Shota’s sensibilities gave him in support of the notion it was a bad idea, but none of them seemed ready to escape his lips. “My friend...”
“I know exactly where he is.” Tadayoshi assured him, long fingers idly toying with Shota’s blond locks. “It wasn’t very nice of Subaru to leave you here by yourself. You don’t look like you’re having much fun.” He let his fingers stray down the blonde’s neck, finding the sensitive spots he’d been trained to find. “I can fix that.”
Shota still seemed a little hesitant, so Ohkura Tadayoshi resorted to one of the dirtiest tricks he knew. He dropped his hand below the table, found Shota’s groin, and rubbed. The smaller male groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Please, Shota.” Ohkura implored. “Let me give you a night to remember.”
The last of Yasuda’s resistance died and he blindly followed as the drummer up and led him through a maze of dark corridors. At one point he could have sworn he heard Subaru’s voice – Subaru was an exceptional and Shota knew of very few people that could hit the same notes with the same power as he did – but that seemed to matter far less now that he was being dragged off by a ridiculously attractive and apparently desperate rent boy.
Said boy had reached the door he was looking for, and he opened it, gesturing Shota inside. The room was equally rich, all red drapes and plush carpet, and a giant mirror along one wall. The bed itself was almost as high as Shota’s waist, and made with thick cotton sheets of the purest white. He’d only just opened his mouth to comment when the drummer scooped him up and deposited him on the bed. Tadayoshi climbed up beside him, pressed chest to chest, and kissed the older male. It was sweet but firm, and Shota found himself melting.
It was then, of course, that Shota had a horrifying thought. Gently he disentangled himself from the taller male.
“Um, I don’t know if I can afford you.” He mumbled, afraid he was going to get kicked out onto the street now.
“Oh, kitten.” Ohkura admonished with a soft laugh. “You wouldn’t have to pay me to get into bed with you.”
“But...” Shota was confused. Nothing that was happening aligned with his ideas of what happened when people had sex with a prostitute.
“Any other night of the week, you might. But tonight...” Tadayoshi slipped a hand up the back of the blonde’s shirt and ran his fingers up and down the shallow groove of the other’s spine. “Tonight I got to choose who I took to bed, and I chose you. Now, before you go asking any more questions, don’t.”
That seemed to satisfy the smaller male, and there was no more resistance when Ohkura kissed him again. He rolled onto his back, pulling the blonde on top of him. Shota moaned a little into the drummer’s mouth, and he took that as a good sign. Really, he had ulterior motives. The first was to force his hands down the back of the blonde’s jeans, squeezing increasingly harder until he’d worked out, based on Shota’s moans, how rough the smaller male liked it. The answer: quite rough. The second motive was that it was much easier to take someone’s clothes off when you weren’t lying half on top of them. As for his own clothes, well, he’d had enough practice getting them off that it didn’t matter what weight he had on top of him.
Shota’s hands had started roaming of their own accord, and Ohkura was pleased. Gently he guided one of the hands between his legs, letting the blonde feel his erection, before dipping the hand lower to tease his entrance. Shota pulled back then.
“I...I prefer to be uke.” He told the drummer shyly.
Ohkura sat up and looked at him enquiringly. Shota had a feeling it was just a tactic to make him blush, and it was certainly working. He glanced down, away from the other’s face. Of course, this landed his field of vision directly on Tadayoshi’s erection. Yasuda felt his ring twitch in anticipation as he marvelled at the size of it.
“Want that inside you?” Ohkura asked, voice once again that low purr that made Shota simply want to lie on his back with his legs spread wide in the air.
Before Shota had time to formulate any sort of following thought, he found himself on his back, legs spread wide in the air, and Ohkura’s tongue probing him in all the most indecent ways. Yasuda could do nothing but twitch and gurgle at the oral assault. No one had ever...before...and the sensation of it was almost enough to make him come.
“Not yet.” Ohkura told him, fingers suddenly pinching the top of Shota’s balls. “There’s still plenty more to come.”
Shota was sure his protest had been eloquent and full of words in his head, but all that escaped his mouth was a pained whimper. He wasn’t actually in pain, just...it had been a while and he realised now how desperate he was. Then there was a finger inside him that seemed to know exactly where his prostate was, and he didn’t even bother trying to restrain the long, raw moan of pleasure. It felt as though all the tension in his body had drained into his groin, leaving the rest of him limp. His head lolled to the side and he caught his reflection. There was Tadayoshi, leaning over him, lightly sucking the sensitive head of Shota’s cock while one hand was clamped around his balls – preventing his climax – and the other was half-buried inside Shota’s rectum.
It took all of Shota’s remaining cognitive power to formulate the next sentence.
“Fuck me, Tadayoshi.”
Ohkura laughed and sat up, still leaving his fingers pinched around Shota’s balls.
“I have the feeling you like it rough...” (Shota nodded) “...So, how would you like me to fuck you up against the wall?”
Shota nodded like he was having a fit. Ohkura smirked again, then scooped the small blonde up. After the application of a condom and a little more lube, he gently lowered the other male onto his erection.
“Okay?” He asked, wrapping Shota’s legs around his waist until the older male was completely suspended.
“Mmngh.” Yasuda smiled.
With a well-calculated swing, he landed the blonde against the wall, pushing all his weight against him so they wouldn’t fall. He waited for Shota’s first impatient whimper before he began to thrust, rocking hard and fast against the wall. Yasu moaned erratically as the breath was knocked from his body with each and every thrust. His only points of contact were the wall and Ohkura. And somehow Ohkura had managed to angle it perfectly for maximum prostate stimulation, and then there was the friction between his cock and Ohkura’s lovely rippled belly, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.
He managed to hold out just until Ohkura came (Ohkura, of course, being a professional and being able to control his orgasm – to a degree), and then he came as hard as he could ever remember. There was a vague blur as Ohkura swung him back onto the bed. There was also a vague blur as Shota lay down on the bed and tried to get his eyes in focus. Then either Ohkura switched the light off, or his eyes closed. Either way, everything was suddenly a warm, comforting black.
The next thing Shota knew, Ohkura’s warm eyes were looking straight into his, and a nice warm hand with lovely long fingers that obviously belonged to Ohkura were stroking his morning hard-on. Yasu came within seconds of waking up. Ohkura finally smiled, kissing Shota lightly, then deeply until Yasu – still puffed from his recent orgasm – was out of breath.
“Breakfast is ready.” Ohkura purred. “Would you like it in bed, or downstairs in the lounge?”
“The lounge sounds good.” Shota yawned, and Ohkura was struck by how cute the blonde looked first thing in the morning. “Otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever get out of bed.”
“Would you like a shower?”
“Would you like me in it?”
Shota considered this very seriously for a moment, then answered cautiously
“I think we’d miss our breakfast if you did.”
Ohkura smiled genuinely. He directed the smaller male to the bathroom, and prepared a robe, slippers and clean underwear for him while he was showering. He also folded up the other’s clothes neatly and straightened the bed.
Yasu didn’t take long in the shower. He thanked the drummer for the robe, donned it, and they headed down to breakfast.
The first sound that greeted them was a hollering catcall. Shota winced.
“Good morning, Subaru.” He called gingerly.
“It is a good morning, Shochan.” Subaru (who was sitting in the arms of that waiter – Shota knew there was some connection!) answered sweetly. “But more importantly, did you have a good night?”
Shota blushed. Ohkura patted him on the shoulder and went to pick up two plates of breakfast.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Subaru answered for him. “Oh, by the way, this is Ryuhei.”
Yasu nodded to the waiter. The waiter beamed back.
“Subaru keeps telling me all about you. I’m glad we got to meet.”
Shota looked a little confused, so Subaru explained.
“I come here every week. Ryuhei’s sort of my boyfriend, but this is the easiest way to see him. And I figured you could do with a shag.”
Okay, that really hadn’t clarified matters for Shota.
“Oh, he was intrigued by you. He wanted to meet you.” Subaru continued.
“Now, now, Subaru.” Ohkura lectured, setting down two plates of food and gesturing for Shota to sit. “After last night, I don’t think the poor boy is up to any sort of thinking. So let’s just eat breakfast, okay?”
Shota remained thoroughly confused throughout breakfast. And while he still had no idea what Subaru had organised for him, he honestly wouldn’t mind if it was organised again.