Work Text:
"This would look so good on you."
Harua was obviously joking. When he pointed at the black and white miniskirt on the mannequin, smug smile on his face, he was making a joke. Harua likes to tell jokes. It was for the camera. A joke for the camera and the fans and not anything else.
So why Maki is now standing in the bathroom, fresh out the shower and staring at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the miniskirt he ordered last night (paying extra for next day delivery), is beyond him. He genuinely debated buying the miniskirt in store just to see Harua's reaction, except he wasn't sure something on a 5 foot mannequin would exactly fit him. But hey, the element of surprise is always better, so here he is. Well past the point of it being a joke.
He feels a little bit insane, but he also knows deep down that he looks good. Not to toot his own horn or anything, but Harua wasn't wrong. It really does look good on him, and he honestly thinks this one looks even better than the one in the store would have done. He's got good fashion sense, after all.
It's pink, plaid, and pleated, stopping at his mid-thigh and fits snug to his figure—fitting as well as a miniskirt can on a six foot tall guy with quite a bit of muscle. His legs are long and toned and the box pleats give the illusion that he has a waist. And his ass looks great, if he says so himself. If he were to bend over, it wouldn't exactly hide anything. For lack of a better word, he feels pretty. He hopes Harua thinks he's pretty too. Not that he wouldn't, he is very secure in his relationship, thank you. But still, he wants to impress. Hopes it drives Harua as insane as it's making him feel.
He slips on a t-shirt and takes a deep breath before scurrying down the hallway on wobbly legs, making sure Euijoo and Nico are very much not in the communal space. He really does not want to look either of them in the eye and explain why on earth he is wearing what he's wearing, particularly because Nico was there when Harua made that comment. God, he would never hear the end of it.
He pauses outside Harua's room and it takes everything in him to actually open the door and not run back into the bathroom and change back into sweats. He bought the damn thing so he may as well commit. Probably. Maybe.
Harua is drying his hair when he finally cracks open the door, leaning in torso first and making eye contact with him through the mirror. Harua smiles at him, soft as ever, before Maki enters the room fully. Harua's smile promptly falls as he tracks his eyes over Maki's body. He turns off the dryer and practically slams it down on the table as he turns to grin at his boyfriend.
"Oh?" Is the first thing he says, wandering over and trailing his hands down the broad expanse of Maki's chest and down towards his waistline, tracing the outline of his muscles through his t-shirt.
Maki lets out a breath. "I… Uh. Yeah." God, he feels stupid. He was planning on making a show of his grand idea, and yet he's already stumbling over his words.
"I was right. You do look pretty." Harua slips his finger under the the top of the skirt, pulling at it to make the elastic snap back against Maki's waist.
It takes everything in Maki not to fucking moan. He knows Harua would like him to, and hell he wants to as well, but it still feels a little early in the evening to be relinquishing all his control like that. He had a whole plan in his head of how tonight would go, but since he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest and he's already fucked up the first words he's said to Harua in the last hour, he knows his knees are going to buckle with the next thing Harua says to him. Or does to him. Or whatever. Harua's effect on him really should be studied. Is it normal to be 5 seconds away from popping a boner after a singular flirty comment from your long term boyfriend?
Harua traces his fingers along the waistline of the skirt, a ghost touch tickling his skin, clearly very aware of Maki's ongoing internal battle. He always sees right through him. "I've been thinking about this too, you know." Harua says, coy. "I've always wanted to see you in a skirt."
Maki whimpers, and Harua uses the opportunity to slide his hand down to Maki's ass and grab.
"Please."
"Please what?" Harua cocks an eyebrow. He knows what Maki wants, he always knows. He also always makes him ask for it.
"Please…" Maki whines. "Please kiss me."
Harua pulls Maki in by the ass, pressing their lips together. The gentle and excruciatingly slow touch of his lips is completely contradictory to the absolute grip he has on Maki's ass, pushing their hips together almost desperately. Like he's trying to pretend he isn't as turned on as he is. He begins pushing Maki towards the bed in the corner of the room, keeping them pressed together completely.
He knocks Maki down onto the mattress, and Maki scoots up until he is sitting at the headboard. Harua smirks when he notices the distinct lack of underwear Maki is wearing, skirt pooling around his hips and doing absolutely nothing to hide how painfully hard he now is. Harua crawls up the bed towards him, kissing him again just as slowly as his hand reaches down to palm at his erection through the fabric of the skirt.
Maki bucks his hips, desperate for more friction, before Harua grips his waist hard and pushes him back down to the mattress.
"Be good for me, baby." Harua whispers against Maki's lips. "Can you be a good girl and do as I say?"
Maki mewls in response, hips twitching as he resists the urge to buck up again. "Yes. Yes. Please."
Harua presses a quick kiss to his lips, giggling when Maki chases after him. He pulls Maki's t-shirt over his head before removing his own, throwing them haphazardly out of the way. He lets his hands roam across Maki's chest once again, pausing when he reaches his nipples and pulls.
Maki feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin. Sure, he does usually get worked up when he and Harua do this kind of thing, but its not usually this damn quickly. But Harua had asked him to be a good girl and he's trying so hard to be good and stay still. He's letting out so many involuntary little whines every time Harua flicks or pulls or massages his nipples.
Harua begins kissing down his neck, leaving a trail of saliva in place of where he would mark him up, until his tongue swirls around his nipple in place of his fingers. He laps and nips at the swollen bud, humming into Maki's skin. Harua slips his hand beneath the skirt to smear the precum beading at Maki's tip before pumping him slow and gentle. Maki doesn't know whether he wants more or wants to squirm away—it's not enough and far too much at the same time and his breath is coming in short bursts, whimpering with every pull and twist of Harua's fist and flick of his tongue against his nipple.
Harua pulls his lips away from Maki's chest, instead watching how the skirt obscures his hand stroking Maki's cock. It makes it more pornographic than Maki being completely bare, Harua thinks, only being able to hear the lewd sounds of his hand and the slick slide of precum.
"God, you're beautiful, Maki." Harua says, reverent.
"-Rua." Maki whispers, twitching in Harua's hold. "More. Please. Want to see you. Want you."
Harua momentarily stops his ministrations, and Maki lets out a shaky breath before scrambling upright to help undress Harua fully, hissing when the skirt brushes against his oversensitive cock. He notes that Harua is fully hard by this point too, his cock standing red and angry against his stomach.
"Lie down on your back," Harua says, placing a pillow underneath his hips. He moves back, leaning over to rummage through the bedside cabinet, chuckling when Maki whines and reaches out for him. "Baby, I'm just grabbing the lube." Maki lies back on the bed, frowning slightly, and Harua pops open the cap, allowing a generous dollop to fall onto his fingers as he warms it up. "Good girl, I'll take care of you."
Whatever response Maki was going to give promptly dies on his tongue as he feels Harua circle his rim with two fingers, a broken moan escaping his lips instead.
Harua slowly inserts one finger, his view once again obstructed by the skirt falling over Maki's thighs. He pumps it slowly in and out, before adding in another slick-covered finger and curling to find Maki's prostate. Maki's back arches up off the bed, an incoherent blabber of something that sounds like Harua's name (or at least parts of it) slipping off his tongue.
"You're taking me in so well, Maki." Maki feels light with the praise. "You wanted to get all dressed up for oppa?"
"—Hhngh. —Rua… Ple— Please. More." Maki genuinely feels on cloud nine right now. When he'd put the skirt on earlier, he was hoping that he might be called pretty but hadn't exactly imagined that it would unlock an oppa kink in his boyfriend. Not that he was complaining. He wants to fire back a retort, poke fun at this newly discovered kink, but he'd be lying if he said his dick hadn't twitched in interest at the prospect of calling Harua his oppa.
Harua slides in another finger, and then another, mesmerised by the sight of his fingers disappearing underneath the skirt, crooking them just right to hear Maki's breathy whimpers get louder.
Soon enough, Maki is squirming and panting and whining, his neglected cock steadily leaking precum. "Oppa. I—I'm ready. Need you inside."
Harua groans, removing his fingers and wiping them gingerly on the bedsheets. Maki grabs the lube, pumping Harua's cock (perhaps a few more times than truly necessary) and guiding him towards his rim. Harua begins to push in slowly, leaning down to kiss him, hot and open mouthed, while Maki's tight ring of muscle adjusts to the stretch. "You were made for me." Harua whispers as he bottoms out, pressing his forehead against Maki's.
"Move." Maki murmurs after a moment, wrapping his heels around Harua's back and and grasping at his shoulders.
Harua pulls back until just the tip remains inside Maki's fluttering hole, and pushes back in slow and gentle, gradually building the pace and strength of his thrusts, watching how the skirt rides up Maki's thighs to pool around his waist again, inching higher with each movement. His cock is weeping against it, precum smearing into the fabric.
"You're so wet, baby."
Maki clenches in response, sucking him in deeper. His nails are digging into Harua's back, and Harua can feel his whimpers where his forehead is still resting on his boyfriend's.
"Oppa—Harder."
Harua feels like he could come on the spot. Part of him had expected Maki to brush off the idea of calling him oppa—he had said it in the heat of the moment and Maki's never sticking to proper honorific rules with the members anyway. He was expecting a laugh, a dismissal, or something, so the fact that Maki is complying with it and enjoying it is hurtling him towards an orgasm a whole lot faster than he was planning.
"Shit, baby. You drive me insane." Harua's pace is relentless, the bed frame rattling with every thrust, Maki's whimpers and Harua's grunts growing steadily louder. Any other day, he'd probably be slightly concerned at the possibility of Nico and Euijoo overhearing them, but Maki looks so good and so utterly fucked that he cannot bring himself to care.
"I'm close." Maki digs his heels into Harua's back harder, lifting his hips to fuck himself back on to Harua's cock.
"Fuck, Maki." Harua grabs him by the waist, pulling him down on to his dick to match the timing of his thrusts, reaching further and further inside him to the point that Maki feels him in his throat. His skirt brushes against his cock with every movement, the slight friction alongside the pace Harua has set sending sparks tingling up his spine, the stimulation sending him careening towards his orgasm at a dangerous speed. "Come on baby, you're such a good girl."
"Fuck—Coming—Rua—Oppa." Maki's entire body goes taut a few strokes later, back arching and thighs trembling as Harua fucks him through his orgasm, his cock spurting all over his skirt and up his stomach.
He's thrashing and whimpering and moaning but Harua does not relent, fucking Maki into overstimulation as he chases his own orgasm, feeling Maki clench harder around him. He's so goddamn close, thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier until he's right on the edge—and then he's pulling out.
Maki cries out in confusion before Harua is leaning over him again, aligning Maki's cock with his own. "You got one more in you?" Maki nods, gripping harder at Harua's shoulders, whole body jittery with the comedown from his first high. "Spit." Maki whines, letting saliva pool in his mouth and watching it drip onto Harua's hand. "Good girl."
Harua takes both of their cocks in hand, working Maki back up to full hardness, pumping slowly at first before building his pace. It's so slick and wet and the slide is so easy, and they're moaning into each other's mouths, drunk on the sensation.
It doesn't take long until they're both on the edge again, Maki having gone slack and eyes hazy, too far gone to do more than roll his hips to increase the friction. Harua speeds up his hand, pumping them both fast and hard until Maki is coming again, a pathetic little spurt landing over his previous release, milking him completely dry. Harua follows right behind him, his come staining the fabric of Maki's skirt and stomach before he collapses over his boyfriend.
They stay like that for a while, catching their breath, until Harua comes back to himself, a short laugh escaping his lips. "Jesus Christ."
Maki snickers underneath him. "Oppa, huh?"
Harua sits up, smacking his harm. "You can't say anything, Riki. Don't act like you didn't enjoy that too."
Maki leans up, wincing as he feels the come drying on his stomach. "You ruined my skirt, oppa."
"Your fault. What were you expecting?"
"Okay, okay." Maki throws his arms up in surrender, smirking. He pulls Harua down onto his lap and kisses him, "I'm going to be aching for days, though. Shit."
"You look good in a skirt." Harua grins, leaning down to kiss him again. "But please never wear one in public because I swear to God if anyone else sees you looking like that you are going to be aching for a hell of a lot longer."
"Yes, oppa. Skirt for Harua's eyes only."
"You're so annoying." Harua laughs, pushing himself off Maki, standing up on wobbly legs and slipping his boxers back on, offering Maki a hand. "Let's get you washed up."
"You love me."
Harua glares at him, dragging him out of bed and back down the hallway towards the bathroom. "Yes, I do." Harua pulls him into another kiss once he locks the door, turning the shower on and turning up the temperature. He carefully unzips Maki's skirt and takes his boxers back off, guiding them both towards the shower.
"Will you fuck me like that every time I wear a skirt?" Maki asks while Harua is washing the dried come off his stomach.
"I think we could make that possible."