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Title: Teaser, Pleaser
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance, smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, teasing, begging, mild to moderate D/s, holding down, frottage
Pairing: Aoi X Kazuki, Byou X Manabu (with action between both pairings)
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Kazuki is planning to execute a leaderly duty – until he gets some tantalizing, teasing tweets from Aoi. He delegates his chore to Byou and Manabu – but they just might discover a pleasant distraction of their own.
Comments: Written for the Teasing square of my Penisy Kinks Bingo card. (I imagine it would also count for Held Down, but hey, one square per fic). Aoi handed this one to me on a silver platter with his tweets over the past week.

All visual kei bandleaders have regular duties, especially when a band is getting ready for a tour. Some of them like to delegate – like Nao, who passed the tradition of doing that on to Shou. Others, like Kai, prefer to be hands-on, keeping most aspects of the process to themselves.

Kazuki fell between the two. He liked to get his hands dirty, so to speak, but there were also times when he asked his bandmates to pitch in. Mostly, this happened when his boyfriend had some time off (since moments together were precious and rare for lovers in different bands).

He actually had every intention of performing tonight’s task – sending out VIP invitations for their tour opener and tour finale – by himself. And he would have, if he hadn’t left his Twitter feed open on his desktop.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his lover’s name appear at the top of the feed. That was nothing unusual. Aoi was done with recording, which meant he was tweeting at the speed of light. Kazuki figured he wouldn’t pay it much mind – he’d just glance upward and see what was going on.

What he saw were the words, “Ah – I just want to tease that guy.”

Okay, THAT got his attention. Was Aoi about to flirt with another man over Twitter again? Not that he hadn’t done that before. Many times. And Kazuki knew that he didn’t really mean it.

He knew he was the one who held Aoi’s heart.

Kazuki refreshed again, and saw, “Even if you ask me who that guy is, I forgot his name. Like, what was the band with the propeller-like name again? Him him.”

Propeller-like name: What the hell? He couldn’t possibly be talking about them, could he?

He kept refreshing, and saw, “I forgot. Someone from SCR*W? Well, I don’t know. Isn’t their guitarist Mana –“

“Aoi!” Kazuki said aloud to the screen. Oh, it was obvious now who was being teased, and why. Aoi just loved to do this to him – and, yes, he wouldn’t admit it at first, but he loved it as well.

Even if Aoi tended to drive him crazy at times.

“Kazunore?” Now Aoi was using the alternate reading of the second kanji of Kazuki’s name. “If it isn’t Kazu, then isn’t it King Kazu?” And now he was referring to him with the nickname of a pro soccer player. He obviously wasn’t going to stop until Kazuki responded.

He typed back, “Aoi-san!!! It’s Kazuki! KA-ZU-KI! P. . . .please tease me . . .” He added a blushing smiley for emphasis.

Kazuki sat back and waited for another tweet. What he got instead was a message pinging into his phone. “I forget who I was supposed to be texting. Some guy from a band with a funny name.”

“You know it’s me!” Kazuki typed back.

“Me?” Aoi replied. “Who’s me? Kazoo? Kazootle? Kaz-“

“Kazuki! Just like I said on Twitter!”

“Did you mean the OTHER thing you said on Twitter?”

Kazuki suddenly found his breath catching. “What other thing?”

“That you wanted to be teased. Because that could be arranged. In person.”

He didn’t even have to think. “Yes! Please tease me! I’m at my apartment now, alone . . “

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Aoi replied. “Be over in a few.”

Kazuki put the phone down. Oh, yes, it was going to be a fun evening. And that was Aoi’s intention when he sent the first tweets, wasn’t it? Get his attention, get him in the mood . . .

Get him distracted from what he was supposed to be doing. Oops.

Time to do the leader delegation thing. He picked up his phone again and pressed the first contact on his list. His ex-roommate, ex-lover and perpetual close friend was always good for a hand in times like this.

“Chawan!” he said into the phone. “You ARE there, aren’t you? This isn’t your voicemail?”

“Do I sound like voicemail?” said Byou’s voice on the other end. “What’s up?”

“That depends on what’s up with you,” Kazuki said. “Got a few minutes for band duty?”

Kazuki heard Byou cover the phone, and then muffled speaking – obviously, he had a guest at his place. Oh, crap, had he interrupted a date?

When Byou unmuffled, he said, “All right – what is it?”

“VIP invites for the first and last shows,” Kazuki said. “Basic E-mail template, I’ll send you that and the mailing lists. It’ll take you ten minutes, I swear.”

“Sure, send them over,” Byou said. “We’re not doing much. Just eating takeout and watching TV.”

“Who’s we?”

“Manabu is here,” Byou said. “He dropped in on the way home.”

“Hi, Kazuki!” the other guitarist called in the background.

“Hi,” Kazuki called back. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

When he hung up the phone, he found his heart was pounding in anticipation. Nobody, but nobody, could make him feel like Aoi. And the prospect of being “teased” – he could only imagine what that was.

Oh, and there was the buzzer from downstairs. Nice timing. (He really had to get Aoi his own set of keys). He jumped up to answer the door.

* * *

“What was that about?” Manabu said after Byou hung up. He turned his attention back to his bowl of takeout noodles – about half-eaten at this point. He’d been hungry after the interview.

“Aoi was coming over,” Byou said. “Kazuki passed what he was doing on to us. Happens all the time.” Actually, Kazuki didn’t cite Aoi by name, but he didn’t have to. Byou knew just from the tone in his bandmate’s voice. Aoi had brought a joy into Kazuki’s life that was equaled only by music itself. “You didn’t have any plans for tonight, did you?”

“Other than being here?” said Manabu. “No.”

“You planned to come here all evening, did you?” Byou said, with a bit of a teasing edge in his voice. “I’m honored.”

“Well, um, your place was on the way,” Manabu said, suddenly taking an interest in the contents of his bowl again. “It seemed a good thing to do.” (Except he’d totally planned it. Not that he’d admit that to his bandmate.)

“So I’m more entertaining than a pachinko parlor, then?” (Byou couldn't help but notice the little blush on the other man’s face as he dug back into his food. He could be so adorable sometimes, really. Sometimes? Try most of the time.)

“Pachinko?” Manabu wrinkled his nose. “Do we even know anyone who goes to pachinko parlors?”

“No,” Byou said. “And if you ever catch me going into one? Shoot me.” He leaned over to his computer, which was sitting open and turned on in the midst of the food containers. “Looks like he sent over what he wants us to do. It’s just an E-mail blast.”

“I have my computer, too,” Manabu said, pointing to his goes-everywhere-miscellaneous-junk-bag, the musician’s “don’t leave home without it.” “Forward it to me, you take half and I’ll take half.”

“Fair enough. And then we can figure out what we’re doing afterward.”

“NOT pachinko,” Manabu said, turning his own machine on, shifting containers around and setting it next to Byou’s.

“I don’t intend to die from boredom,” Byou said.

“We have meetings with our manager for that.” Manabu peeked up from the screen. Why, after all this time, did he still find this man so damn gorgeous? He’d never made a move on him because, well, he wasn’t exactly the forward type. Plus, there was the risk of him being rejected, and the fallout that would bring.

They’d gone through enough trauma when Yuuto had left. They didn’t need something like that ever again.

Byou, meanwhile, was looking at the other man dividing his attention between the noodles and the screen. He could be any college boy in a ramen shop – except he’d be the kind that attracted attention from everyone who passed by. Was he aware of how cute he was? He always seemed to be the quiet, retiring one during interviews.

And he’d better say something before he got caught staring. “By the way, how did the interview go?”

“Good,” the guitarist said. “I’d never talked to this guy before. It’s like when you’re a major label act, suddenly the magazines send different people to talk to you. People who actually wear suits.” He poked his chopsticks in the noodles again. “It’s nice being asked about our music for a change.”

“As opposed to what kind of girls we like and if we’re afraid of bugs?” Byou forwarded the E-mail to his bandmate.

“You know I hate bugs!” Manabu said.

“So do I,” Byou said. “That’s why Kazuki doesn’t like rooming with us. He has to kill the bugs.” Many a time, the bandleader had to go into the bathroom, wielding a shoe or a book like a weapon of mass destruction, while his two bandmates cowered in the next room.

“We really have come a long way, haven’t we?” Manabu said, softly, as he opened Kazuki’s E-mail. “It’s not too long ago that we were sleeping in cars when we were on the road.”

“I don’t miss that,” Byou said. “I like to sleep without knees or elbows poking at me.”

“How are you at sharing a bed, then?” Oh, CRAP. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that. “I mean, do you have problems sleeping when you’re, um . . .”

Oh, now, this was interesting. Suddenly, the cutie was presenting him an opening. He usually didn’t flirt with bandmates, though Lord knew he did it with half the guys on Twitter. (Some of the flirtations had led to actual hookups – which were just casual. Which was okay with him.) Manabu usually wasn’t the kind of guy for flirtations or casual hookups. But maybe . . .

(And, yes, part of him knew damn well that if they hooked up, it wouldn’t be casual. He wouldn’t want it to be).

Oh, yes, he was going to seize the opportunity. Byou leaned over the top of his computer, smiling slyly. “You’re interested in what sharing a bed with me is like?”

“No!” Manabu said. Oh, no. Oh, no. Had he blown it? “I mean, yes!” And he just blew it even more. Recover, recover . . . . “I mean, I’m just curious!”

“You are?” Now Byou was in full-bodied tease mode. His bandmate’s adorable flustered-ness was just spurring him on. He leaned over toward Manabu. “Curious about what I’m like in bed, then?”

“I . . .” Oh, dammit, busted. It was probably all over his face. There might as well be a neon sign sprouting on his forehead that said, “Hi, there, I’ve wanted you ever since we’ve been in this band together. Yep, for seven long years. Surprise! Always the quiet ones, huh?”

“Because I’ve been curious about you, too.” Okay, all the brakes were off. Byou was going for it in full. How could he not? Manabu looked more delectable than a cupcake right now. Okay, there was the whole “You DO know he’s a bandmate, right?” thing. But . . .

It was obvious how much they’d wanted each other, and how long. This moment was probably inevitable. And if they didn’t seize it, the regret would haunt them for years.

Manabu just stared at him. “You – you have?” He felt his heart leap up his throat, to the top of his head. He just hoped it wouldn’t keep going right out the top of his skull, because that would be one hell of a mood-killer.

“Of course.” Byou reached over and ran his hand over the other man’s hair. He liked it longer like this. It gave a sort of wild contrast to the other man’s usual adorableness. And, God, he wanted to see it wildly spread out around his head on the pillow.

Manabu opened his mouth, started to say something . . . and then, he leaned over and kissed Byou, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. Oh, yes, his body felt fantastic. Strong and firm and sexy and . . .

He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten to his feet himself, or if Byou had hauled him up. All he knew was they were suddenly making their way to the bedroom, kissing all the way.

They had a lot of lost time to make up for.

And the two computers still sat side-by-side on the table, displaying the project they hadn’t done.

* * *

Kazuki opened the door for Aoi, leaning over for a kiss. Instead, the other guitarist walked right past him, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Nice that you let me in right away, Kazudon,” he said, exhaling.

“Kazuki!” He closed the door. “You know my name, Aoi-san!”

“Really?” Aoi said. “Kazoochie, wasn’t it? Kazoogle?”

“KAZ-UKI.” He traced the name kanji in the air. “You must have known my name in order to message me!”

“You’re listed as That Guy From The Propeller Band in my phone,” Aoi said, sitting on the couch.

“No, I’m not!” Kazuki said, sitting next to him. “I’ve seen your phone!”

“Have you seen it lately?” Aoi flicked his ash into the tray.

“Well, no,” Kazuki said. “But did you really change it?” Well, he HAD threatened to delete Kazuki’s number from his phone out of jealously when SCREW got invited to perform on a Hide tribute CD and GazettE did not.

“Maybe,” Aoi said, crossing his legs. “And why did you ask me over, anyway?”

“You saw what I said!” Kazuki said.

“I don’t think I remember,” Aoi said. “What were your last words on Twitter?”

Kazuki swallowed hard. “They were ‘Tease me,’” he said. And then, he realized that’s what Aoi was doing right now. In fact, he was reaching up with the hand not occupied with his cigarette and starting to unbutton his shirt.

Slowly. Maddeningly slowly.

“Is that what you like?” Aoi said, continuing to unfasten buttons and smoke at the same time.

“Y-yes,” Kazuki said, breathlessly, eyes fastened on that hand. It was definitely that of a guitarist, strong and well-developed and graceful, always knowing where it was going and what it was doing.

Right now, what it was doing was pushing the fabric away just a tiny bit – exposing more skin.

“I think I might leave right now,” Aoi said.

“Aoi-san!” Kazuki hoped his voice didn’t sound desperate.

“Can’t think of any reason I should still be here.” And he was getting up from the couch, pulling his shirt together.

“I’ve got a reason!” Kazuki leaped off the sofa as well, his hands coming up to his own shirt, unfastening it as quickly as Aoi had been slow. He flung the garment to the floor so hard it almost bounced – a pretty good feat for a ball of cotton and polyester.

“Oh?” Aoi shifted, letting that tantalizing strip of skin appear again. “You’ve got me interested. Mildly.”

“Does this interest you more?” Kazuki unfastened his pants, letting them and his underwear slide to the floor, removing his socks while he was at it.

“Maybe.” A hand slid down Aoi’s chest, landing on his belt buckle and toying with it – just a little.

“Maybe?” Kazuki reached out toward Aoi – then pulled his hand back. Touching him was against the unspoken rules of the game.

“It depends on what you want me to do.” That hand on the belt again, pulling the leather through the loop just a little bit, then pushing it back.

“I want you to touch me,” Kazuki said, breathlessly. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

“You do?” Aoi reached out, running a finger along the other guitarist’s collarbone, lightly – just making him shudder and want more. Except Aoi pulled his hand back, bringing it to his side.

“Aoi!” Kazuki said.

“But I touched you,” Aoi said, a sly smile crossing his face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I want your hands all over me,” Kazuki said. “Everywhere.”

Aoi reached out with both palms, putting them on Kazuki’s shoulders. Kazuki braced, breath catching in his throat, waiting for them to slide downward, over his chest and his hardening nipples, down to where he wanted to feel them most.

Instead, Aoi lifted the hands, moved them downward, touched Kazuki’s sides lightly, then his hips. He leaned over to touch his knees, then his feet.

“There,” he said. “I’ve touched you all over.”

“Please, Aoi!” Kazuki was starting to squirm. The more he teased him like this, the more frustrated he got . . . and the more frustrated he felt, the hotter he felt. “Touch my cock. Wrap your fingers around it . . .”

“Sit down,” Aoi said. Kazuki obeyed, and Aoi stepped away, pushing off his shirt, pulling off his pants. He was so, so very gorgeous naked – like a sculpted god. He knew it, too.

Aoi knelt in front of the other man, reaching out, wrapping his fingers around Kazuki’s erection, just like he’d asked for . . .

And just as quickly, he pulled his hand back.

“Aoi!” Kazuki cried. “That’s not what I meant! Stop teasing me!”

Aoi leaned over so that his lips were pressed against Kazuki’s ear, their chests brushing together, naked skin on naked skin. “But I thought you liked being teased,” he said into his lover’s ear in a breathless whisper. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? That’s what you asked for. Because it makes you hot. It makes you really hard when I do this . . .” He brushed his fingers lightly over Kazuki’s nipples, then pulled them away. “Or this . . .” He ran his thumb around the tip of his lover’s cock, then yanked his hand back.

“Ooohhh . . .” Kazuki was leaning back against the couch, eyes closed, knowing he was panting loudly. He felt like his heart was going to burst.

“Or even this.” Aoi leaned over and let the very tip of his tongue flick over the head of Kazuki’s erection, then looked up at him with smirking, devil eyes. Kazuki looked back with eyes full of pleading – and was rewarded with only another little tongue-flick, making him cry out this time.

“What is it you really want, Kazuki?” Aoi gave a quick lick to the shaft. “Tell me.”

“I want you to make me come,” the other guitarist gasped, thrusting his hips forward.

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Another maddeningly fast lick.

“Fuck me,” Kazuki cried. “Please . . . I need your cock in me.”

“Turn around,” Aoi said. “Up on your knees, leaning over.”

Kazuki obeyed, pushing his bottom toward Aoi. “Like this?”

“Oh, yes.” Aoi gave his ass a little smack. “That’s what I like to see.”

“Aaaah!” Kazuki cried. The little spank was serving as just another tease.

“Now, be patient . .” Aoi reached in the pocket of his discarded pants for what he needed. Soon, Kazuki heard the welcome squish of a tube, and felt a finger probing him gently.

Fortunately, Aoi wasn’t teasing when it came to prepping him. He felt the digit slide into his body, moving around, finding the sensitive spots and making him gasp.

Another finger, pushing in and out, scissoring with the first, opening him up . . . Aoi was so good at this, gentle and considerate, but providing wicked little shocks of pleasure at the same time.

By the time the third one pushed in, Kazuki was beginning to feel like he was being teased again. “Please, Aoi, I’m ready. I want it.”

The fingers pulled out, and there was the sound of a foil packet, then a tube squishing again. Aoi gripped his lover’s hips, pressing against his entrance . . . only to pull away. Another tease.

“Please!” Kazuki cried, thrusting backward again.

“Please, what?” said Aoi. Another push a little in, another pull back out.

“Please fuck me. I need you in me. Fuck me hard, Aoi, please!”

And finally, there was a cock sliding into him, filling him, stretching him to the limit, but he didn’t mind. He even welcomed the pain that was inevitable on initial penetration by the aptly named Mt. Fuji.

“Oh, yes,” Kazuki breathed as his lover paused, letting him get adjusted. Aoi just felt so good in him – a perfect fit, like they were made for each other.

“It’s going to get better,” Aoi murmured, and he started to thrust, gently and slowly. Kazuki moaned at the friction, at the painful sensations that gradually began to morph into pleasure.

It was getting better, all right. Aoi was speeding up, thrusting harder, Kazuki moaning as warm and intense sensations started to flood his body. He pushed back, his hips starting to pump in tandem with Aoi’s as his lover leaned over, kissing his neck.

Kazuki turned his head so their lips could meet, tongues caressing each other as Aoi plundered his body deliciously. He felt one hand reaching up, starting to play with a nipple, caressing and rubbing the bud.

The other hand slid below his beltline and wrapped around his cock, starting a rapid stroke in time with Aoi’s thrusts.

“Ah!” Kazuki gasped as Aoi moved his head down and nipped his neck. “Oh, oh, Aoi . . .”

“You’re such a hot fuck,” Aoi growled as he pounded into the other man harder. “Such a tight, hot ass, and you love cock so much. Go on, moan louder . . .”

And he thrust hard into Kazuki, hitting that wonderful spot inside him, bringing forth a loud cry from the other man. “Oh, oh, GOD!”

“Are you going to come hard for me?” Aoi panted as he thrust against the same spot again.

“Yes!” Kazuki gasped.

There was another strike at his prostate, and the hand on his cock twisted just a little. Suddenly, Kazuki was feeling an explosion of heat inside him, and he cried Aoi’s name out, hot fluid pulsing over Aoi’s fingers. He felt his lover grip his hips, and then a few more hard thrusts . . .

Aoi let out his own feral cry, hips pumping forward, his orgasm coming in long waves. He sagged against Kazuki, clinging to him and panting.

Eventually, Aoi slid out and the lovers tumbled to the couch, clinging onto each other and kissing. “I love you so much,” Kazuki mumbled.

“You’ve got hair in your eyes,” Aoi replied, brushing it back with utmost tenderness. Of course, he never said the three little words back to Kazuki. He didn’t have to. It was all in the tone of his voice and the feel of his touch.

“You always know what I need, you know that?” Kazuki reached up and covered Aoi’s hand with his own. It was still sticky with his own come. It seemed fitting.

“You’re easy to read,” Aoi said, pulling Kazuki’s head onto his chest. “Good thing we didn’t knock over your computer over there.”

“Oh, that,” Kazuki yawned. “I was doing something when I saw your tweets. Sending out invites to the first and last shows of the tour. I passed it on to Byou and Manabu. You’ll get one tonight.”

“Cracking the Leader-san whip, huh?” Aoi said. “Making your underlings do your work?”

“Aoi! I don’t do that!” Kazuki snuggled against his lover some more.

“Oh, sure.” Aoi caressed Kazuki’s hair, tenderly. “I’m glad my Leader-san doesn’t delegate,” he added with a yawn. “He’d spend half his time kicking my ass for being a lazy bastard.”

Kazuki didn’t say a word. He was just luxuriating in the moment. He’d had a delicious session with Aoi – with more to come before the dawn. And his project was in good hands. He knew Byou and Manabu would get the job done.

* * *

In all the times Manabu fantasized about he and Byou ending up in bed, he didn’t think their first time together would be so. . . casual.

There was no great preamble, no heartfelt declarations of long-term desire . . . just heated kisses, and stumbling toward the bedroom, and tumbling to the bed together.

Not that he exactly minded. Not the way that Byou was pulling him tighter into his arms, and playing a masterful game of tongue-hockey – pushing it into his lover’s mouth, sweeping it around, pulling it out again.

Manabu was doing his best to keep up, pressing his own tongue against his bandmate’s, pulling back . . . until finally, they just dispensed with the whole idea of kissing altogether and just pushed their tongues out of their mouths, rubbing and rubbing them, flicking against each other.

Their hands reached for one another, clasping . . . and then Byou yanked both Manabu’s arms over his head, pinning him in place, making the guitarist give a startled little cry. That was silenced by the vocalist’s lips crushing against his again, and Manabu kissed back, hard, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs.

Byou was taking charge right away, and he didn’t mind it one single bit.

The vocalist pulled back, starting to kiss down the other man’s neck, still holding his wrists in place. “You like this,” he murmured.

A breathless “Yes” was the only answer possible. Because it was so damn true. He could feel those hands tightening on his wrists, holding him firmly. He wriggled around a little, just so he could test how restricted he was.

Byou raised his head. “Tell me . . . what else would you like?”

Somehow, Manabu managed to get enough air in his lungs (good thing he’d quit smoking) to say, “I want to feel your body on mine, naked . . .”

He found one of his captive hands being brought to the vocalist’s full lips and kissed . . . and then guided down to his chest, placed over the buttons of his shirt. “Undress me, then,” Byou said.

Manabu sat up, eagerly starting to work on the buttons, pushing them out one by one. He was aware of how heavy he was breathing, of the way his head was starting to swim a little.

He knew damn well that his bandmate had two distinct sides to his personality – the silly side (harassing other musicians on Twitter, randomly hopping up and down during photoshoots, gleefully making an ass of himself during SCREW TV and Visual Battle Royale) and the sexy, commanding side – the one that usually came out when he was before an audience. Powerful, commanding, magnetic.

Manabu had expected that side to ocme out in bed, of course, just not quite to this extent.

He finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed it down and off, revealing the gorgeously taut, well-formed body. He reached out and brushed his fingers over Byou’s chest, reverently.

“You’re not done yet,” Byou said. “You still have to take off my pants, remember?”

Manabu quickly dropped his hands to the other man’s waistband, undoing the buckle, then the snap and zipper. The fact that he was being commanded to do this was just as hot as the idea of getting his bandmate naked. Somehow, that didn’t surprise him – it felt natural.

Byou shifted enough so that Manabu could push the fabric down and off, dropping it off the side of the bed, where it could all fall through the center of the earth as far as he was concerned. And there, before his eyes was what he really wanted to see.

God, he had a gorgeous cock, majestically formed, with a graceful curve to it. But of course, it would match the rest of him. Manabu ached to touch it – but he didn’t. He found himself patiently awaiting orders.

Byou ran his fingers over his lover’s still-clothed chest. “You want to feel your body against mine?” he said. Manabu nodded. “Undress for me, then.”

He should have known the favor he just gave wouldn’t be returned – but it didn’t matter. It just added another layer of excitement, the feeling that he was being commanded and dominated – and, at the same time, deeply appreciated.

He shed shirt and pants rapidly, pushing them onto the floor next to Byou’s, leaning back on the bed in expectation. He felt the other man leaning over, bringing their lips together again . . .

And their bodies were pressing together, skin on skin. Delicious. Hot and sensual, the way they started to writhe together, chest sliding against chest, hardening nipples pressing against one another.

When their mouths parted, Manabu arched upward, letting out a loud moan as Byou’s oh-so-talented tongue began to move down his neck and then just kept going, painting a wet, hot trail down his chest, moving over a nipple, surrounding it with his lips . . .

He started to suck, hard, brushing it with his teeth just a little, and Manabu arched off the bed, grabbing the back of Byou’s head and moaning. Another nip, and he cried out again, the mixed pain and pleasure sweeping through him like the tides.

The guitarist let out a near-whimper as his lover’s tongue began to move downward again, tracing lazy circles on his belly, teasing him, making him shiver. And he took his sweet time moving downward, too . . .

He paused just above the black curls surrounding Manabu’s hardness, nipping the skin, blowing on it. Manabu braced himself, expecting Byou’s lips to encircle the head of his cock, to start sucking . . .

Instead, Byou licked rapidly along the shaft, circled the head, then licked back down again, the brief flashes of pleasure causing Manabu to shiver and cry out again.

And he kept licking upward. Back up along his stomach, his chest, pausing only briefly at his nipples this time, before moving back up to his lips, kissing Byou deeply. He pulled back, looking deeply into Manabu’s eyes with a gaze that carried endless heated promise.

“Why . . .” Manabu started, and then stopped. Questioning him just seemed . . . wrong.

“But this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Byou said. “You wanted to feel yourself against me. And . . .”

He shifted their hips so their cocks rubbed against each other. Manabu let out a moan, and then gasped as Byou grabbed his hands, pulling them over his head and pinning him down again.

“Skin on skin,” Byou whispered in his most heated voice. “Me on you. It’s what you asked for.” His fingers tightened just a little on his lover’s wrists, just enough to send a tiny shock of pain through Manabu, just as his hips started to speed up, moving faster, grinding harder.

The guitarist found himself grinding against the other man, moaning as their cocks pressed together, hard rubbing against hard, caressing each other, each brush sending a fresh wave of shudders through his body. The delicious captivity, the being held firmly in place, the knowledge that he was at once pleasure toy and object of worship to this man . . .

And then Byou just had to bring his tongue into play, running it slowly up Manabu’s neck, tracing his pulse line, the wicked softness a contrast to the hardness pressing against him.

Manabu could do nothing but become a moaning, writhing thing, his hips moving upward against Byou’s every downward thrust, their erections rubbing harder, faster, precome trickling down from both tips, easing the friction and making it all even hotter.

He could feel his lover’s sweat-soaked skin rubbing on his, his teeth nipping at his throat before another small lick, and those hands holding him in place, trapping him, possessing him. He could feel heat building in his belly, building and swelling . . .

“You’re almost there,” Byou panted, squeezing his wrists. “I can feel it. Let go, Manabu. Come on . . .”

And then, another bite at his neck, and Manabu arched upward, letting out a loud cry that was almost a scream. His hips arched upward, the come pouring from him, feeling Byou thrust against him again and again . . .

Byou leaned back, like an animal rearing, finally letting go of Manabu’s wrists. He and let out a sound that was between a growl and a roar, his body trembling as his own orgasm shot through him. He finally sagged on top of Manabu, panting.

Manabu wrapped his arms around Byou, holding him tightly. He felt his lover’s head drop against his.

“That . . .” Byou panted.

“I know,” Manabu replied, gently kissing his lips.

“You were gorgeous,” Byou said. “Through the whole thing. Seeing you lying there, with your arms over your head . . .”

“Nobody’s ever done that,” Manabu said, softly. “Held my arms like that, I mean.”

“You liked it?” Byou said. He caressed the other man’s face. “I could tell.”

“I want . . . more of that.” And that was a loaded reply. It didn’t just mean “I want you to hold my hands over my head again.” It meant that he was interested in exploring more, to maybe take things a bit further next time. He liked being held in place – would he like being tied up? He liked the little thrills from the biting – would being spanked be pleasurable to him?

He’d never had thoughts like this before with another lover. It was a bit confusing, a bit scary – and a whole lot exciting. Of course, maybe that’s why he’d been so attracted to Byou all this time – because on some level, he knew he might be the one to bring this out of him.

Byou kissed his forehead. “If you do, so do I,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”

“Just talk?” There was a hint of mischief in Manabu’s voice.

“That wouldn’t be any fun, would it?” The two of them laughed, and kissed softly.

This was the beginning of something, on several levels.

* * *

The pinging of a text message awoke Aoi early the next morning. He groped for his phone several times before his hand finally made contact. He squinted at it, frowning. Meeting later? Who the hell called for that? It had to be their manager – Kai would know better.

Well, while he was awake, he might as well check his E-mail. His VIP invite for the opening of SCREW’s tour (since he wouldn’t be around for the finale – it fell during GazettE’s world tour) should be there.

He scrolled through the messages. Nothing. Zip, zero, nada, goose egg. Well, damn. Didn’t Kazuki say it was definitely coming? He said he’d delegated it to a couple of his bandmates . . .

Wait, not just any bandmates. Byou and Manabu. Didn’t Kazuki say – on several occasions – that he suspected they liked each other? And they were at Byou’s apartment? A sly smile spread over Aoi’s face. Maybe they’d found something better to do than send out invites.

He was going to call them out on Twitter. Only he wasn’t going to do it directly. He’d be subtle. (Well, as subtle as Aoi was capable of being).

Aoi opened Twitter and started typing, “Oh, shit, it seems we haven’t been invited to SCREW’s Toraaara tour. “ He added a distressed-looking emoticon and the words “(heavy breathing)” to further drive his point home.

He added, “I guess those kids don’t need us anymore? My pillow is going to get wet from my tears tonight.” Another emoticon.

Immediately, a couple of sympathetic messages from fangirls popped up. He decided to play with them a little. “There’s no way your flat chests are going to ease my sadness! Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m very distraught right now.”

He was on a roll. He was going to take this a bit further. “To make it up to you, you can cry on my chest! It will be 2000 yen/1min. If you cry over 30 minutes you get a handkerchief.”

Aoi chuckled to himself. That should kick them into action. In the meantime, he’d have fun playing with the fangirls who . . .

There was a yawn next to him. “Aoi? Are you awake?”

Aoi leaned over and kissed Kazuki. “It seems Byou and Manabu didn’t send out the invites last night.”

“No?” Kazuki sat up. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t get one,” Aoi said. “Ask your friends – I’ll bet they didn’t get one, either.”

“But that’s not like them!” Kazuki said. “They don’t drop the ball on me! They don’t . . .”

Aoi’s E-mail app pinged. He looked down – and there was the invite. “They didn’t,” he said, showing it to Kazuki. “They were just delayed.”

“What would delay them from . . .” And then, the lightbulb went on in Kazuki’s head. Two bandmates . . . always liked each other . . . in an apartment alone . . .

“Ooh,” he said. “OOOOHHH.”

“Oh, indeed,” Aoi said, putting his phone down. “Looks like your bandmates lived up to the name of your band.”

Kazuki suddenly had a broad grin on his face. “We have a meeting today,” he said. “Wait until I see them.” He was positively giddy about the idea. He’d wanted to see them get together for a very long time. If Aoi was right, this tour was going to be very enjoyable indeed.

* * *

Byou and Manabu were the first to arrive at the meeting. “This is strange, isn’t it?” Manabu said. “Normally, Kazuki’s here first.”

“He had his attention distracted by Aoi,” Byou said. “At least, I hope he did.” He’d woken up this morning to Aoi complaining about not getting his tour invite over Twitter. That led to a big, fat “OH CRAP,” and Byou waking up Manabu so they could do what they didn’t the night before.

Not that he regretted missing their assignment. Not in the least. Not when he’d finally gotten in bed with Manabu – and found out he had a taste for a little kink to boot. It’s always the quiet ones, like they say.

“I just hope we’re not in trouble,” Manabu said. “That would make things awkward on the road.”

“I hope not, either,” Byou replied. “If he comes in there and starts yelling at us . . .”

And then, the door burst open. Sure enough, it was Kazuki in the doorway. He stared at the two of them – and they stared back, Manabu swallowing hard.

Kazuki rushed forward, clapped the two of them on the back and said, “CHAWAN! BUBUCHAN! I’m so happy to see you two!”

“You – you are?” Manabu said.

“Oh, yes!” Kazuki said. “I couldn’t be happier! I’m going to make sure you two room together through the whole tour!”

“What?” Byou nearly spluttered.

“Oh, come on, you think I don’t know?” Kazuki said. “It’s obvious. Aoi said next time you two should put a camera in the bedroom.”

“Ack!” Manabu said.

“Aoi figured it out?” Byou said.

“Why do you think he sent those tweets?” Kazuki said. He wrapped an arm around each of them and gave them a hug. “So, should we tell Rui and Jin when they get here? Or let them figure it out themselves?”

“You’re not mad about us being late with the invites?” Manabu said.

“Why should I be?” said Kazuki. “It was for a good cause, wasn’t it?”

The two lovers exchanged a secret smile. It was for a good cause all right. A very good one. And Byou gave Manabu a wink that said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be bringing a couple of nice silk scarves with us on the tour.”

What better occasion to take their explorations to the next level?

Kazuki sat back in his normal leader’s place at the table. Oh, yes, he was very glad he decided to delegate tasks this time. It turned out to be the right decision – for everyone involved.


( 11 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 13th, 2013 07:34 pm (UTC)
That was hot and sexy and fun!! Aoi's tweets are something (`^_-)
Jul. 17th, 2013 04:27 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Aoi just handed this to me on a silver platter. Teasing Kazuki would have been enough, but when he followed that up with a huge drama act about not getting invited to the live? It HAD to become a fic at that point!
Jul. 14th, 2013 12:41 pm (UTC)
Oh. My. GAWD.
You tied those tweets into this PERFECTLY!!
And Aoi's 'tude! Gosh how I love that man! XD

This was absolute perfection! I'm going to link some friends.

Because u n f .

Jul. 17th, 2013 04:30 pm (UTC)
Thank you! And thank you so much for spreading the fic around, it is VERY appreciated! Oh, Aoi is a fic writer's dream. He takes great pleasure in creating super-quotable tweets and having a personality that lends itself to just about any kind of story. (Especially when there's humor involved)!
Jul. 14th, 2013 10:39 pm (UTC)

somehow I get curious on aoixkazuki. your writing is simply awsome <3

Jul. 17th, 2013 04:33 pm (UTC)
I've come to really love the Aoi/Kazuki pairing. I swear they come across like a real-life version of Gravitation sometimes. ("I love you!" "I see nothing to like about you - and I'm not gay!" But then, they talk about when they visited both their families over Christmas and the ring Aoi gave Kazuki as a gift.) Thank you so much for reading!
Jul. 15th, 2013 06:54 am (UTC)
Hahah! Good use of those tweets! :D I was so surprised to see Aoi's tweets about not being invited, but now we know why! ;)
Jul. 17th, 2013 04:37 pm (UTC)
Ha, I'm sure what was really going on was he had gotten his invitation, but he decided to publicly tease Kazuki yet again. (Then again, SCREW is being managed by Sakai now - maybe he's had enough of Aoi after putting up with him as Gaze's manager for so long and hid his invite on purpose. XD)

It was a lot of fun coming up with a way to tie the two tweets together! I can just see Aoi doing the "force them to admit they spent the night together" thing, too. XD
Jul. 15th, 2013 07:30 am (UTC)
I have been wondering why Aoi didn't get invited to Screw's live, and now U finally know why :)
Jul. 17th, 2013 04:39 pm (UTC)
Hee, hee, glad you liked my explanation! Of course, what REALLY happened was, most likely, that he actually got the invite but couldn't resist needling Kazuki one more time. Those two really are adorable. XD Thanks for reading!
Feb. 4th, 2015 05:02 pm (UTC)
Amazing fic! Classic Byou/Manabu. Dominant Byou is just perfect!
As for Aoi/Kazuki, I think Aoi's attitide wins it all. As always, I was kinda sad because Aoi never said three little words this time either, but oh well, actions are better than words. I'm waiting for the day Aoi would actually say it xD
It was probably the awesomest way to wrap up Aoi's tweets in one fic. He is such a master of teasing!
( 11 comments — Leave a comment )


Kai Fadeless - by ldybastet

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