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Being in Arashi for seventeen years means that Sho has a good grasp of the members’ preferences—food, fashion sense, even the kind of stuff they’d definitely have inside their luggage during concert tours.
Sho would even say he knows what gets some of them going—and by some, he's mostly referring to Jun.
Jun has been particularly vocal about his fetishes, unabashedly admitting his preferences in front of more than a dozen cameras on multiple occasions in different TV stations. It’s nothing new. Sometimes Ohno, Nino, Aiba and even Sho himself join in, telling the public what they like and what they’re drawn to.
It’s harmless; Sho isn’t exactly truthful about what he discloses in front of the cameras and sometimes in magazine interviews. He answers based on his public image; it’s what he’s used to doing. The degree of sincerity isn’t the topic of concern; he’s an entertainer. If he provides an answer that gets the crowd going, it’s deemed good enough.
But Jun is different. Sho knows the extent of Jun’s honesty, that when Jun's embarrassed he says things that are the furthest from the truth. Jun dodges questions about his interests that he thinks no one will remember, especially if Jun considers them part of a phase of his life that he’d rather forget.
It’s a pattern that Sho has grown accustomed to. In all the years he has known Jun, he’s seen on more than enough occasions how Jun hardly ever settles. Jun aims higher, gives more, pushes harder if it meant that the rewards would be greater. Jun is the one who doesn’t hesitate to go the extra mile without expecting spoken praise or congratulations.
It’s one of the things Sho respects (and admires) about Jun. He finds that he can forgive Jun’s tendencies of downplaying the things he did and said if Jun remains his never-changing determined self towards their work.
With that said, it’s odd to Sho that despite the intimacies that he and Jun have engaged in on several occasions, Jun has never breathed a word about the fetishes he once boldly admitted in front of the cameras. When they’re together, it’s mostly just hands finding their places in parts of their bodies that would be hidden during costume fitting or blemished over by the right amount of makeup. Jun knows what gets Sho going, and often, he uses that knowledge to render Sho boneless and too satisfied to even think of dealing with the aftermath (like cleaning themselves up).
It’s nothing to complain about. Jun, despite his sadistic image and his control freak self that surfaces during concert rehearsals, is nothing but gentle behind closed doors. Sho would even say Jun is a generous partner, giving Sho what he wants and how he wants it. Jun has never done anything that would put Sho off.
What bugs Sho is that Jun has never asked. It's not that Jun doesn't make certain demands during sex; he’s a very exacting person through and through. Sometimes, he makes Sho hold a particular pose until he’s satisfied with the strain he can see in Sho’s muscles—Sho grunting with effort and still trying because he wants to please Jun. Sometimes Jun makes Sho work for it, depriving Sho just up to the edge of reason, until Sho’s a writhing mess of arousal that he can feel in his marrow.
But Jun’s demands never extend to anything beyond playful teasing. He just gives. He provides, adapts, makes things work in his own Jun way. It usually takes a while for Jun to get to it—he’s intensely specific about the details even in his personal life, Sho has discovered—but when he’s all set and comfortable, he delivers as always.
They’ve been together for a while, so it’s no longer a surprise when Sho rings Jun’s doorbell right after a recording session that runs late. Sho lied about going home on his own, allowing his manager to drop him off his apartment building. He called for a taxi as soon as he saw the company van speeding away and turning a corner.
The door unlocks on its own; Jun must’ve simply buzzed to let him in. Sho shuts the door behind him and smells something divine from the direction of the kitchen. He hurriedly puts on the slippers he always uses whenever he’s here.
“I knew you weren’t going home,” is how Jun welcomes him when he crosses the threshold. “So I made extra.”
Jun is seated on his dining table, a glass of wine for company, and he gestures to a plate of vongole that’s twice the normal serving size he has for guests. There’s even a can of beer beside it, implying that Jun has indeed expected his arrival tonight.
It’s late and Sho has no defenses, so he allows his cheeks to warm at the thought of Jun knowing what’s going on in his mind. He takes a seat and grabs a fork to begin eating.
“I didn’t want to order takeout,” Sho reasons when his cheeks are slightly bloated from the vongole. It’s insanely good, but then again, Sho likes whatever Jun makes. “Aiba-chan mentioned MSG to me the other day and now I’m as paranoid as him.”
“You do need to cut down on all that takeout ramen and soba,” Jun says, his chin resting on his knuckles as he watches Sho stuff himself.
From this angle, Sho can’t really see Jun’s eyes because of the reflection of the light overhead on his glasses. Still, he thinks Jun may be close to smiling, since there are no cameras rolling. Jun only allows himself to be this transparent when he’s exhausted enough.
Sho has a pretty accurate gauge of Jun’s stamina, and he can’t quite see the telltale signs of bone-deep exhaustion in Jun’s features yet. It gives Sho a bit of hope that the night isn’t too late. He didn’t come here just to enjoy more of Jun’s cooking, no matter how suitable it is to his palate.
“My sister says my cheeks are rounder,” Sho says, and Jun inclines his head. “And don’t say it—I know that my double chin is a frequent topic on twitter.”
“With all the work you have, I think it’s justified that you eat as much as you do.” Jun takes a sip from his wine. “Congratulations on wrapping up filming, by the way.”
“I still don’t think it should have been me,” Sho says, shoving another forkful in his mouth. “But I’m glad that’s done.”
“I think the fans have missed your acting,” Jun tells him.
There’s something in Jun’s tone that makes Sho laugh a bit.
“Did twitter tell you that?”
Jun doesn’t answer, and instead finishes his wine without looking away from Sho. Sho meets Jun’s stare calmly, licking up bits of sauce smeared on the edges of his lips. He’s all too aware how Jun views his acting; Jun once recorded all the episodes of Sho’s first drama series. He wonders what Jun did with those old tapes.
“I didn’t come here just to eat,” is what Sho says when he feels that they’ve looked at each other long enough for an understanding to fall between them.
Jun laughs. “I know. But I also know you’ll go looking for food inside my fridge if I don’t feed you before we start.”
Sho finishes the last bits of vongole on his plate and says his graces. “How thoughtful of you, Matsujun.” He collects his plate, fork, and even Jun’s wine glass before heading for the sink. “I’ll go wash these.”
“Leave them,” Jun says, his voice deeper now and more suggestive in a way that never fails to make warmth coil in Sho’s body.
He does as Jun asks and leans against the kitchen counter. “Are you free tomorrow?”
Jun blinks in thought. “Yes. I haven’t made plans yet.”
Sho nods. “Wouldn’t want to be woken up by a ringing phone from an angry manager.”
He’s watching Jun’s face as he speaks, and he smiles as he observes the shift in Jun’s expression. Without makeup, the marks left by puberty are more visible under the lighting of the kitchen and the dining room, but they’re all imperfections that Sho likes looking at. Not a lot of people get to see Jun like this: tired from a long day of working hard, open but not too fatigued for whatever Sho has in mind.
“If you snore,” Jun says, standing and stretching, “you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“I’ll do my best,” Sho promises, lacing it with sarcasm that Jun glares at. Sho laughs.
Sho takes the liberty of heading to Jun’s bedroom, and soon he hears Jun turning out all the lights, his footsteps gradually growing louder as he enters the room. Sho remains standing by the foot of the bed. Only a few seconds of silence pass before he feels Jun’s fingers tickling his hips, Jun’s body flush against his back.
“Whatever happened to your fake jeans?” Jun whispers against his ear, sending shivers that Sho doesn’t bother to suppress.
“You hate those,” Sho says with a laugh. Jun often criticizes Sho’s comfortable sweats and camouflage-patterned clothing, but it’s not like Jun can talk big, considering his rather outlandish fashion sense. Jun owns pairs of shoes that Sho can’t help quirking an eyebrow at.
Jun delivers a light pinch to the crest of his hip. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“They’re still in my closet, worn only in front of those who have the heart and mind to appreciate their ingenuity,” Sho replies, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “They don’t grace the unimpressed with their presence.”
“They’re horrible,” Jun says, now breathing against his nape. “You’ve got to let those things go, Sho-san.”
“Don’t come anywhere near my closet, Matsumoto.”
Sho turns and loops his arms around Jun’s neck instead. Jun’s been stacking up on the hours he spends at the gym because it’s almost concert season, and it’s definitely paying off. Jun is bulkier; the muscles that formed his arms and shoulders are considerably more prominent in the tight shirt he’s wearing. Sho likes what he sees; the rise and fall of Jun’s chest is more obvious despite the lack of light, and Jun’s breathing is already turning labored.
“Been a while since I was here,” Sho comments as he remembers.
“You had a drama to film,” Jun whispers; he’s closer now and his breath smells like aged wine. “And before that, you had to go to Rio.”
Sho hums. “I’ve got time now.”
He leans in, discovering that Jun indeed tastes like fermented grapes, that this is something he hasn’t had for a while. He finds that he missed the feeling of having Jun with him, this close without minding about anyone, their work put on hold. Jun’s fingers frame his hipbones, thumbs lightly stroking the skin.
It’s Jun who breaks the kiss, reaching up to remove his glasses. Jun makes an annoyed noise at the sight of them, foggy and smudged at the corners.
Sho laughs against Jun’s mouth. “Forgot you had them on, sorry.”
“Liar,” Jun says. He steps back and approaches his nightstand, depositing his glasses there as Sho sits on the edge of the bed.
Jun returns, stands between Sho’s legs, lithe fingers cupping his chin to tilt his face up, but before Jun can lean down, Sho stops him with a hand on his chest.
Jun blinks, confused. It’s an adorable look on him; his big, expressive eyes so dark but also full of wonder, his thick brows furrowed.
“I want to ask you something,” Sho says. He has thought this through, rehearsed in his head what to say when the moment comes, and he waits until Jun gives a slow nod.
Jun crouches, his face now at eye-level. Jun is holding on to Sho’s thighs, but he doesn’t caress nor squeeze, instead waits for what Sho has to say.
Sho knows that the best way to approach the topic is to be direct about it. If he’s shifty, Jun would think he’s uncomfortable and he’d never get the chance to finish. Jun would close off, and they’d most likely have a few days of civility and silence. It’s something Sho wants to avoid.
“Your fetish,” Sho says, and he’s certain he’s not imagining things when he sees Jun’s shoulders tense. “The one you talk about a lot on TV.”
Jun looks away. “That’s just something I say all the time.”
Sho expected this, that Jun would brush it off. He doesn’t let that deter him. “It’s not. You wouldn’t talk about it that much if it was.”
“It gets ratings,” Jun says defensively, and Sho reaches out, touches the side of Jun’s face to have Jun look at him. Jun resists at first, but Sho applies a smidgen of pressure, and eventually, Jun sighs and faces him. “Fine. What about it?”
“You never did something about it, not in all the times we’ve done this,” Sho says, watching Jun’s expression for any signs that he’s crossing boundaries. “Why not?”
Jun is facing him, but his eyes are focused somewhere behind Sho. It embarrasses him, Sho realizes. Sho doesn’t want to make Jun uncomfortable, but he needs to know why Jun never mentions it whenever they’re like this. To Sho, they’ve been intimate for a while that it shouldn’t be an issue anymore.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jun says finally, shutting his eyes briefly. “I’m happy with the way things are. I like this. I’m okay with what we have.”
“I know,” Sho tells him patiently, not looking away from him. Jun needs to know that he means every word. “I’m not saying you’re not.”
“So what are you trying to tell me?” Jun asks, his tone now clipped.
“That it’s okay,” Sho answers. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. We’ll forget I brought it up and continue just as is. But it’s also okay to talk about it, if that’s what you want. If there’s something you want to try, it’s okay. We can talk about it.”
Jun pulls away and stands, and Sho watches him pace. Sho wonders if the night has turned sour and if he should go home, postpone for some other free night that’ll likely come once the first leg of the tour is over.
Jun suddenly halts, and his back is turned to Sho when he speaks again. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it.”
It’s a quiet admission, somewhat overshadowed by the steady hum of the air conditioning unit, but Sho catches it. He thinks he’s partly at fault in this situation; he’s honestly satisfied with what they have that he assumed that Jun couldn’t have anything else in mind.
“You know you can tell me anything,” Sho says, tilting his head in confusion. “You know that, right?”
“I do,” Jun says, almost like a snap. Sho can see the tips of Jun’s shoulders almost protruding with the way his trunk stretches the fabric of his shirt. “But it never surfaced before, and I thought…”
Jun trails off, and Sho finishes his statement for him. “You thought it wasn’t something I’d be all right with because I never implied anything.”
“In front of the cameras is one thing,” Jun acknowledges. “You’d indulge me whenever I talk about it, laugh with the others as I talk about what I like. That’s how it is. But here it’s different. Whenever we’re here, I don’t want to do anything you’re not okay with. Because I know you’d never do anything like that to me as well.”
“And I’m here telling you that it’s okay to talk about it if you want to,” Sho says, wanting to reassure him. Jun’s hard to predict when Sho can’t see his face. His body language often speaks volumes about him, but when he’s deliberately shielding himself from Sho, Sho knows it’s best to just wait instead of meeting him head-on, to wait for him to open up on his own. “If there’s something you want to try, tell me. This isn’t just about me, you know. We’ve been...involved for a while.”
“Involved,” Jun repeats, something close to a laugh escaping from him.
“I didn’t want to spook you if I say ‘together’,” Sho explains. He has no problems with labels, but he doesn’t want to jump into conclusions. The past few months kept them apart because of conflicting work schedules, and now that they’re attempting to pick up where they left off, it’s a little difficult for Sho to find his proper footing again.
“Is that what we are?” Jun asks, the tension in his shoulders dissipating.
Sho inclines his head, considers. “Why would I be here in such a late hour?”
Jun stays silent for a moment, then he looks over his shoulder, his eyes apologetic. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know,” Sho says with a nod. Jun tends to get defensive when cornered, and Sho has braced himself for this kind of reaction even before he called a taxi to take him here.
Jun faces him and moves to crouch between his spread legs once more. His hands find their place on the space behind Sho, and he takes a few deep breaths before he sighs.
“I need time.”
Sho gives him a small smile. “Okay.” He brushes away some of Jun’s hair that’s falling over his eyes. “I’m not rushing you. When I said you can talk about it, I didn’t mean now. Whenever you’re ready.”
“But it’s true,” Jun murmurs, soft enough that Sho’s glad for their proximity; otherwise he wouldn’t have heard it. “What I talk about on TV. It’s true.”
Sho only gives him a knowing look, smiling a little at the sight of Jun’s cheeks coloring. He can’t resist, so he reaches out to thumb at Jun’s warm cheekbone. Jun scowls.
It makes Sho laugh. “With all the things we’ve done, I’m just finding it funny that this hasn’t come up until tonight.”
“We don’t exactly talk much when we get to this part,” Jun points out.
“Ah, true.” Sho smiles. “Would you say we’ve talked enough for now?”
Sho receives a glare for that question. “You’re the one who started this talk.”
“And I’ve already gotten my answer.” Sho wets his lips deliberately, knowing they must be glistening despite the darkness. “So?”
“We’ve talked enough,” Jun decides, and he cranes his neck a little to bridge the gap.
Sho meets him halfway.
--
The rehearsals kept them busy, with Jun adding improvements after every show and taking out a couple of things that didn’t work in their favor. It gives him more work and Sho has had to cancel a few scheduled sleepovers because Jun sometimes stays in the meeting rooms until it’s only a few hours till dawn.
They find time to themselves after they’ve finished the first leg of the tour, an hour or two after the celebratory drinks they had in Ohno’s hotel room.
Jun invites Sho to his room and Sho doesn’t refuse, especially not when Jun boasts about having a bottle of liquor they can share since they’re not as tipsy as they allow themselves to be.
Sho is nursing a glass of what he assumes to be expensive Scotch when Jun starts talking. The beer from earlier has certainly made his tongue loose, and he seems less hesitant to talk about such things compared to the last time.
“I like legs and butts,” Jun admits, as loud as he would have said it had they been on TV.
Sho just nods; it’s not anything he doesn’t know.
“I like those more than any part of the body,” Jun says, tipping his glass to his own mouth.
“Between legs and butts, which one do you like more?” Sho asks, the rim of his glass resting close to his cheek.
Jun purses his lips as he gives it a thought. Then after a moment, he says, “the latter.”
“I thought so. And?”
There is a respectable distance between them, with Jun leaning against his dresser and Sho sitting on the bed. The hour is not so late, and Sho wonders if Jun has any plans tonight.
“I like yours,” Jun admits quietly, hiding half of his face behind his Scotch as he finishes all of it. “I like yours a lot.”
This is something Sho’s aware of; Jun has professed his preferences more than once, and Sho’s not an idiot to not know that he has what Jun likes. He just never addressed it before because a part of him was still under the impression that if Jun likes it as much as he says he does, he’d talk about it to Sho on his own.
That never happened, which brings them to the present.
“I see,” Sho says. He watches Jun’s face, finds his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, eyes glassy. There are no Yakai staff to film him while he’s nearly drunk, so Sho files away this moment as a rare happening only he is allowed to see.
“There are…things,” Jun begins, now refilling his glass and focusing on the task instead of on Sho’s face, “things that I want to do, to try. With you.”
Sho places his empty glass on the floor beside his feet and gives Jun his undivided attention. “I’m listening.”
“If you’re not okay with it—”
“I’ll tell you,” Sho says, cutting Jun off. “I promise.”
Jun sips his drink and exhales, runs a hand through his hair. It’s a little cute to see him weighing his options and evaluating what words to say, different from what he does when he’s at work. Right now, this is the unguarded version of Jun, and Sho doesn’t want to tear his eyes away from him.
Sho has an inkling of what Jun wants to do with him, with that particular part of his body. He needs Jun to say it, but minutes pass and Jun is still avoiding to meet his eyes, his lips pursed.
“Do you want to spank me?” Sho asks, amazed at the composure in his own voice. He never had reason to ask such a thing before, and he can feel his face burning.
Jun whips his head to face him, and he gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Along with other things. There’s...a lot I want to do, but it’s not something I can just say, can’t I? I don’t know if it’s okay with you, if it’s something you’re willing to try.”
This is where Jun is wrong, Sho thinks. With Jun, Sho finds he’s okay with anything. He trusts Jun, knows that Jun won’t do something that’ll hurt him or scare him. Sho thinks Jun should know that by now, but as he ponders on it, perhaps it’s the reason why Jun never said a word about this side of him; he probably thinks it would scare Sho away.
But Sho’s not afraid, merely curious. If it’s about Jun, he wants to find out more. There are many sides to Jun, and Sho wants to know if he can like and accept all parts of him, including the bits and pieces that Jun safeguards out of fear of rejection.
“We’ve been going out for a while; you can’t not know that with you, I’d try anything,” Sho says, frowning a little. “I know you won’t do something that I’d hate.”
“You might not hate it, but you might think it’s weird,” Jun says, but Sho shakes his head fiercely.
“It’s not. Just because I’m not attracted to the same thing doesn’t mean your attraction to them is weird. You like butts more than any part of the body. That’s your preference, and that’s part of you. I like knowing parts of you.”
Jun sets down his drink and meets his stare head-on. “Are you sure?”
“If I’m not, I would have told you. You gave me an out. You are still giving me an out, and I’m starting to think you’ll always give me one,” Sho says, smiling a little.
“That’s how it is,” Jun tells him. “I can’t be the only one enjoying it.”
Sho sighs, and he pats the space next to him. Jun approaches without a word of protest, sitting beside him and looking at their feet.
“I’m serious about this,” Sho says slowly, allowing the words to sink in. About you, he doesn’t add. “Will it make you happy? If you get to do whatever it is that you wanted?”
Jun licks his lips once and huffs out a “yes”, lifting his head to look at Sho.
“Then I’m willing to try it.” He carefully removes Jun’s glasses, and Jun takes it from him to set it on the nightstand.
When Jun turns to him again, Sho can’t read his expression. “We don’t have to do it again if you hate it.”
“I know,” Sho says, nodding. “I trust you.”
Jun breathes out, a deep, rushing exhale, then he tilts his head a little as he leans in, and Sho finds that Jun tastes nothing different from the feel inside his mouth. They kiss slow, as if Jun wants to savor this moment, and Sho, like always, indulges him. Jun’s hand finds his thigh and squeezes, and Sho reaches up to cup his nape and pull him closer.
With the first leg of the tour now behind them, Sho feels relatively free and that makes him bolder, their kiss turning heated as he licks up the roof of Jun’s mouth.
Jun breaks away to plant short pecks on his neck, lingering on his pulse. The brush of his lips is a bit ticklish, and Sho bites on his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing a little. He tangles his fingers in Jun’s hair to have him closer, and when Jun gives him the slightest push, he leans back and allows his body to be guided down so he can lie on the bed.
Jun resumes with his kisses, nipping on his collarbone but not too hard that it’d leave a mark. He soothes the tender flesh with flicks of his tongue, tasting Sho’s skin and making Sho arch a bit against him.
Sho clutches at Jun’s biceps for support, digging his fingers on the hard muscle. Jun’s body is covering his, mouth teasing and licking whatever is exposed by Sho’s shirt. Jun takes his time, his kisses traveling up to Sho’s jaw, his cheeks. Sho gasps when Jun’s teeth gives his chin a playful bite, and Jun muffles his laughs against Sho’s mouth.
They make out languidly, with Sho’s hands mapping the expanse of Jun’s back, Jun with cupping his face and angling his head so he can kiss Sho deeper. When Jun finally pulls away long enough to tug Sho’s shirt off, his mouth latches immediately onto the newly exposed skin, hands tracing Sho’s sides and making Sho squirm.
Jun always touches him with deliberateness; his focus is entirely on making Sho feel good, but tonight Sho wants things to be different. When Jun reaches his navel, tongue swirling over and around it, Sho gets his attention by tugging on his hair.
It gets Jun to look up, his large, dark eyes blinking questioningly at Sho.
“I can’t be the only one enjoying this,” Sho says, remembering Jun’s words from earlier.
“I enjoy seeing your reactions,” Jun affirms, sounding a little smug since he already has Sho panting and anticipating on his bed. Jun gives one of Sho’s nipples a light pinch to make his point, and it’s enough to make Sho gasp.
But Sho shakes his head once, and doesn’t look away from Jun’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
Jun crawls on the bed to loom over him, and he kisses Sho briefly before saying, “Lie on your stomach.”
Then Jun draws back to give him a bit of room, and Sho scoots to the center of the bed and does as Jun asked. He still has his sweatpants on, but Jun doesn’t seem to mind. He feels Jun’s fingers trace his spine, then the waistband of his sweats before disappearing, only to reappear again on the backs of his thighs.
“We need a safeword,” Jun says, like he just remembered it. “I’m not going to spank you, not tonight, but just in case what I do makes you uncomfortable, I need to know so I can stop immediately.”
“Tokoroten,” Sho says, half muffled by the pillows, but he smirks against them when he feels Jun’s fingers halt in their movements. He leans on his elbows and looks over his shoulder. “Nothing like the food you hate to make you stop, right?”
“I still don’t get the point of tokoroten,” Jun mutters, sounding a bit annoyed. “But okay, tokoroten it is. Lie back.”
Sho situates himself back to his original position, and when he feels Jun grasp the elastic of his sweatpants, he lifts his lower half up. He shudders at the sudden cold; Jun pulled off his underwear too, and now he’s exposed, his ass on display.
Sho shivers at the thought. He wonders how he looks right now, if Jun likes the view so much that he’s staring and appreciating it for a few seconds more.
Deciding to find out, Sho sneaks a glance and finds Jun kneeling at his side, his mouth slightly parted. Jun blinks and his mouth snaps shut, but Sho has seen enough. He smirks, makes sure that Jun sees it, and angles his hips a little so his ass juts out.
“Are you just going to stare tonight?” he asks, feeling confident now that he knows exactly how much Jun likes this part of his body.
“I’m just going to touch tonight,” Jun says, and now his fingers are back, ghosting over the dimples beside Sho’s tailbone. “We’ll start small. I want you to put your head on your forearms.”
Sho folds his arms, rests his head on top of them. Jun’s fingers move to his shoulder blades, pressing on the spine before straying lower, tracing his back in fleeting, ticklish touches.
When Jun’s fingers reach his tailbone, he stops, withdraws. Sho waits, breath catching and heart hammering, shifting a little on the sheets to get a bit of friction on his cock. Jun hasn’t done much yet, but the idea of Jun taking his time to savor every moment of this is getting to Sho, and he wills himself not to hump the mattress.
Jun’s touch returns, his forefinger running over the cleft of Sho’s ass, from tailbone to perineum, and Sho bucks to the touch when it disappears. He settles back on the bed, feeling deprived, until Jun’s finger returns to trace his crack once more, over and over until Sho has his face buried against his arms, his hands turned into fists.
Jun’s fingers skim over the folds where Sho’s ass ends and the backs of his thighs begin. This time Sho squirms; he can’t help it and he moans quietly at the friction it gives his cock.
“I haven’t done much to you yet,” Jun says, his palm resting on one ass cheek.
“Your fingers tickle,” Sho retorts.
Jun doesn’t respond, instead runs his palm over the skin of Sho’s ass, spreading warmth, rubbing in circles and kneading the flesh. It feels like a massage, except it’s Jun so there’s an underlying promise with each caress.
Soon there are both of Jun’s hands, lightly squeezing each buttock, and when Sho tries to calm and even out his breathing, he hears it: Jun’s panting, exhaling a little heavily; what he’s doing is getting to him. Jun’s hands are big enough to cover most of each cheek, and when he gives a particularly hard squeeze on both, Sho ends up humping the sheets, his precome leaving a damp spot.
“You really like that,” Sho manages to huff, but he’s unable to stifle a surprised moan when Jun goes for another squeeze.
“You’ve probably heard this from somebody else before, but you’ve got a really perky ass.”
Sho laughs, the sound muffled mostly by his forearm. “You like it when I do Cliff Climb,” he concludes.
“I like it when you’re struggling to scale that wall and whenever you’re dancing in front of me,” Jun confirms. He keeps kneading the soft flesh, but Sho’s breath hitches when Jun’s thumbs run over the cleft once more.
Jun suddenly withdraws, swats lightly on the back of his thighs. “Put your weight on your knees.”
Sho does, and his face burns at the thought of how he must look: ass high in the air, his cock untouched and leaking. He wants to reach down so badly once Jun touches him again.
He voices out that desire to Jun. He’s not as eloquent as he would have liked, but soon he feels Jun nudging his legs apart.
“Go ahead,” Jun says as a permission, spreading his legs wider to get a better view. “Touch yourself.”
Sho wastes no time and takes himself in hand, smearing his precome to make his palm slicker. Jun’s hands resume with their touches and occasional squeezes, palms massaging his ass cheeks.
Sho allows all the filthy thoughts to flood his mind as he chases after his own orgasm. He wants Jun to do more than just touch him, and he wants to know what else Jun wants to do now that Jun allowed himself to have this. How far would Jun go next time? Sho’s body quakes at the thought of a next time, and he’s so close that his knees are shaking.
Jun suddenly spreads his ass cheeks apart, exposing his hole, and when he flicks his thumb over the ring of muscle, Sho comes, spurting all over his hand and on the sheets. His mind blissfully blanks out, and he senses hands clutching at his hips, acting as an anchor for him not to collapse on top of his own release.
When he descends from his orgasmic rush, he hears Jun hurriedly shucking off his pants. The bed dips as Jun settles back, and soon there are sounds of Jun jerking himself off in fast, almost brutal strokes. One of Jun’s hands settle on his ass cheek, squeezing and kneading.
Sho looks over his shoulder just in time to meet Jun’s darkened eyes, and when he licks his lips, Jun curses, his eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes fan over his flushed cheeks, and his mouth parts as he gives in, climaxing in between Sho’s legs, some of his come hitting the back of Sho’s thighs.
Sho feels himself get shoved to the side, just as Jun collapses on the space across him. Their bodies frame the damp spot on the center of the bed, and Sho allows Jun to catch his breath before he speaks.
“That was something,” he says, not knowing how else to describe it. He enjoyed it, and Jun has to know by witnessing how hard he was and how desperate he touched himself while his backside was on full display. “You need to act on these things more often.”
Jun smiles, his first since they got inside this room. “We’ll see.”
--
With the concert tour ongoing, they hardly found time to themselves. Sho focuses on his hosting jobs and upcoming promotions and Jun tweaks intricate concert details only he would notice. He’s a perfectionist, and Sho knows that no amount of seduction (blatant or subtle—it makes no difference) will break Jun out of his drive to constantly make improvements to their shows.
So Sho waits. He does his part, firing off his own ideas and offers his opinions on lightings for his solo. He lends an ear to Jun, listening to him outline each detail with frightening accuracy and giving his input when asked.
Jun comes over to Sho’s hotel room one night after another leg of the tour has concluded, and he’s on his fourth can of Kirin when he’s finally satisfied, setting down papers that are full of his messy handwriting about adjustments to the setlist. They’re on the couch and Jun has his head tilted back, neck exposed as his eyes remain shut.
Sho nudges him with a socked foot. “Shouldn’t you be heading back?”
Jun’s eyes snap open. “Are you sending me away?” His gaze moves to the direction of the nearby clock, eyes squinting behind his glasses. “At past three in the morning? Where’s your hospitality?”
“You came here to brainstorm and now you’re going to pass out on my couch,” Sho points out, his smile resting on the rim of his beer can. “At least go to your own room. Or give me your keycard so I don’t have to deal with a drunk Matsumoto Jun.”
Jun snorts, a rather ungraceful sound. “I’m not drunk.” He gives Sho a look. “Do I look drunk to you?”
Sho grins. “Not as much as that time you and Satoshi-kun went to my room in Hawaii.”
“I didn’t come here just to brainstorm, you know,” Jun suddenly says, and Sho watches him remove his glasses and set it on the nearest table.
“You came here because no one else would listen to you being meticulous about the simplest things right after the concert is over,” Sho says, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I opened my door for you. I was enjoying my ‘me time’.”
Jun licks his lips, and he tilts his head a little as his eyes scan Sho’s form. Sho thinks he’s hardly attractive right now: he’s wearing his pair of beloved gray sweats, his face is flushed and he’s quite sleepy, but their flight back to Tokyo isn’t until past noon.
They have time, but that depends on what Jun has in mind.
“I’m terribly sorry for intruding and disrupting your ‘me time’,” Jun says, his hand now sneakily caressing Sho’s thigh. He also sounds incredibly untruthful.
Sho rolls his eyes, perfectly within Jun’s view. “Stop lying.”
Jun is closer now, scooting to Sho’s side, his chest pressing against Sho’s arm. “Does that piss you off?”
“Yeah,” Sho whispers, but it lacks bite. He’s just playing along, wondering when Jun will snap.
“Then send me out,” Jun dares, his face so close that Sho can feel his breath fan his cheek. “Send me out or take my keycard.” His hand on Sho’s thigh moves to the inside, thumb now stroking in circles.
Sho prides himself with having a remarkable threshold when it comes to Jun’s seduction techniques, but he’s not as strong as he would have liked when it’s been a while and he has been anticipating what Jun would do next.
He throws caution to the wind and pulls Jun close, grabbing a handful of his shirt. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.”
Jun smirks, but Sho kisses it away. He moves to straddle Jun, and it’s his turn to smile when he feels Jun’s hands settle immediately on his ass. The last time they addressed Jun’s fetish seemed to have made Jun bolder with the way he’s shamelessly groping Sho as they make out.
Sho remembers the last time all too well; there are a bunch of things Jun is yet to do to him. He rolls his hips to get Jun’s attention, and he makes sure he’s looking at Jun right in the eye when he asks, “What do you want to do?”
Jun draws in a sharp breath, his eyes now darker. “You know what.” He sounds a bit annoyed, and Sho laughs.
It’s true; Jun has disclosed to Sho what he wants to try only a day or two after that first time. Jun sent this formal-looking email, a list with items enumerated on bullets, ranked from what he wants to try the most to the least.
Sho was honestly not surprised when he saw that spanking had topped said list.
“Really, Matsujun, here?” Sho asks, laughing again when it earns the inevitable click of Jun’s tongue. “Aiba-chan’s in the room next to mine. He might hear.”
“Not if you keep quiet,” Jun says, giving him a challenging look. Then his expression shifts to uncertainty, unguarded because of the lateness of the hour. “We don’t have to if—”
Sho shakes his head once, and Jun’s mouth snaps shut. Sho stands and starts shedding off his clothes; it’s what always gets Jun’s full attention on him. He leaves his boxers on, but he tugs on the elastic, making it snap. “Do I look like I don’t want to?”
“I have to hear it every time, you know,” Jun says, but he’s no longer looking at Sho’s face. “Hear you agree, say yes or anything.”
“I wouldn’t have implied it if I wouldn’t own up to it,” Sho reasons. “I know this is still uncharted territory for us, but you saw my reply to your email.”
“You sent me a thumbs up emoji, Sho-kun.”
Sho laughs; he can’t help it. Not when Jun has this slightly annoyed expression on his face that is countered by this mostly lustful look in his eyes as he continues to stare at anything but Sho’s face.
“Should I have been more direct?” Sho asks, tilting his head in thought.
Jun suddenly stands, presses himself flush against Sho, hands going around Sho’s waist to find his ass. “No need.” A kiss is planted on Sho’s cheek. “Tokoroten?”
Sho nods in affirmation; tokoroten has become their safeword for this. Anything else, Sho opts for a variety of words not related to food, but this one has stuck and will likely be used again in the near future.
Jun guides them both to the bedroom, and once inside, he shuts the door and distracts Sho with his soft, repeated kisses. They tickle and Sho squirms a bit, but soon Jun begins nipping down his throat, tongue swirling at the dip between Sho’s clavicles.
“What have you got in mind?” Sho manages to ask, neck extending as Jun licks from the line of his collarbone up to the angle of his jaw. “Jun.”
Jun steps back, and Sho sees him remove his rings carefully. He hands them over and Sho accepts, clutching them tight in his fist, the studs in one digging a little into his palm.
“The others always complained about my smacks, that they hurt a lot,” Jun says. “Especially with the rings on.” He gestures to Sho’s fist with his chin. “I want those back, so don’t you dare drop them.”
Sho shrugs his shoulders and reaches down to remove his boxers without any prompting. He avoids Jun’s predatory gaze and instead situates himself on the bed, on his forearms and knees, and just waits.
He hears a movement a few seconds later, like Jun hastily removing his top and jeans, depositing them in a messy pile on the floor. The bed dips, and Sho feels Jun somewhere close, but he doesn’t turn. He feels a little cold, being exposed like this, but soon there are Jun’s fingers skimming over his ass.
It feels like a repeat of the last time: Jun exploring with teasing, almost featherlight touches, Sho feeling his breath catch when Jun’s fingers move from his tailbone downward, slowly, slowly, like they have all the time.
They don’t, not really, but that hardly matters. Jun’s palm rests on one cheek. “I’m going now,” he whispers.
Sho shakes his head, knowing Jun can see it. “Don’t tell me when.”
Jun seems to still at that, but Sho means it; he wants to not know. He thinks it will enhance the experience, add to that heady thrum of anticipation that’s been building inside him since they kissed on the couch.
The first blow comes, abruptly putting a stop to Sho’s thoughts and reminiscing. He gasps, almost imperceptible thanks to the hum of the air conditioning, but he’s sure Jun has heard it; he gets another smack on the same spot, harder than the previous.
He arches, and Jun keeps going, alternating on his ass cheeks, one smack landing right on where his ass meets his thigh. That makes Sho jolt, a quiet moan escaping from him. He’s trying to keep quiet, but Jun isn’t exactly making it easy.
“How many was that?” Jun suddenly asks, his husky voice piercing the silence.
Sho shuts his eyes, cheeks burning.
Jun knows him too well, is aware that he kept count.
“Eighteen,” he answers in a rush, arms trembling as he continues to hold himself up.
Jun lands another slap, this time right on the cleft of his ass. Sho moans, head hanging low, but he breathes out: “Nineteen.”
He receives a backhanded smack as a reward, and he thinks Jun’s name falls from his lips.
“How many now?” Jun asks as Sho’s body trembles.
The answer escapes through clenched teeth. “Twenty.”
Jun squeezes his buttocks then, his palms as warm as he made Sho’s skin to be. Sho hisses when Jun withdraws; cool air has touched his sensitive skin, and he supposes that’s Jun intention. He’s hard; has been that way since Jun’s first slap, and with Jun’s hands not being anywhere on his person, his body is starting to shake more noticeably.
He calls for Jun, again when there’s no response.
“You look good like this,” is what he hears next, like Jun uttered it unconsciously and he hasn’t fully expected the words to come from his mouth.
Sho flushes all over as he processes the words. His cock twitches, and he keeps his legs together to resist the temptation of dropping to his stomach to hump the sheets. “Like what?”
Jun’s touch returns, now groping each ass cheek. “Like it’s all for me.”
Sho has to bite on his knuckles to muffle his groans; there was an unmistakable dash of satisfaction and pride in Jun’s statement, like he’s truly happy and Sho has managed to please him. He wouldn’t have done this with anybody else, and Jun has to know.
“It is for you,” he huffs, and he can feel Jun’s hands freeze on his skin.
There’s a shuffle of movement, and Sho feels Jun press close to him, behind him. Jun leans down, breath now ghosting over Sho’s nape. Jun is hard; Sho has felt it more than once as Jun shifts.
Sho maintains his position, leaning forward, bracing himself on his forearms. The metal of Jun’s rings must have left indentations on his palm, but he keeps his fist clenched tight around them. “It’s all for you.”
That makes Jun moan, an uninhibited, tiny “oh” that’s uttered right against Sho’s ear. Jun’s hands move to his hips, tugging him close, and Jun bites the flesh of his shoulder lightly.
Sho can hear Jun fumbling for the nightstand, disarranging some of the things Sho deposited there earlier, but Jun finds what he needs; Sho had an inkling that Jun would come over to his room tonight, and he was glad he had the foresight.
“You knew this would happen,” Jun says as he opens the cap. A sharp slap lands on Sho’s ass, and Sho groans in surprise.
Jun’s hand, now slick and warm with lube, rubs against the inside of Sho’s thighs. Sho keeps his legs apart in cooperation, and when the cap snaps shut, Jun presses against him once more.
“Keep your thighs together,” Jun says.
Jun lines himself up, and Sho lets his forehead touch his clenched fists when Jun pushes all the way forward, the tip of his cock hitting Sho’s balls given their position.
Jun moves. He doesn’t hold back, one hand acting as anchor as he drags Sho’s hips back to him. They moan as one when Jun speeds up, but Jun gets a little louder when Sho presses his thighs together tightly, tighter, like it would make him have Jun even closer.
In retaliation, one of Jun’s hands reaches up to find Sho’s nipple and pinches, hard enough that Sho can’t hold back his groan. The hand disappears to give his ass a smack, then another, until Sho buries his face against the sheets in a desperate attempt to keep his noises down.
With his position, Sho can reach down and take himself in hand so he does. He matches his strokes with Jun’s thrusts, the obscene, slick sounds echoing in the room along with their rushed breaths.
Jun keeps on uttering his name now, his grip on Sho’s hips now unforgiving. Jun comes when Sho pushes back and meets Jun’s frenzied movements halfway, Jun’s corresponding moan muffled against the skin of Sho’s back.
Warmth spreads on the insides of Sho’s thighs, and Sho no longer restrains himself. He fucks his own fist, relishes the feeling of Jun’s body still flushed against his.
“Jun,” he says, eyes shut and inhibitions lost, body giving in to its need.
Jun answers by raining three successive blows on his ass, and Sho climaxes, dirtying the sheets under him as his body quakes. Jun has withdrawn from him by the time he descends from his high, and he feels himself getting shoved to the side.
Sho spends a few seconds just panting on the bed, his eyes welded shut, his chest heaving. When he opens his eyes, Jun is staring at him. “Twenty-six.”
Jun blinks. “What?”
“That’s the total,” Sho says, and he smiles when Jun’s expression clears. He kept count, and while his ass feels too sensitive that he’ll probably be sore on the plane ride a few hours from now, he doesn’t regret a thing.
Jun sits up, eyeing the mess on the bed with distaste. Then his gaze moves to Sho, who remains curled up on his side, thighs sticky and some of his own release crusting on his stomach.
“Up you get,” Jun says, reaching out with a hand to help Sho sit up. “To the bathroom with you.”
Sho allows himself to be led around, guided by Jun’s grip on his wrist. “And my sheets?”
“We’ll deal with those later,” Jun promises. He gets the water on the tub running, ushering Sho into it. Sho watches Jun grab a stool to perch himself on, taking the spot behind Sho as Sho gets comfortable in the tub, waiting for the water to fill it up.
He opens his palm in Jun’s direction, and Jun picks up his rings. Jun doesn’t comment on the marks the jewelry left on Sho’s skin, but Sho catches him eyeing them far longer than usual.
Sho expects Jun to put the rings back on but he doesn’t, instead leaves them on the edge of the tub and grabs a washcloth.
“My ass hurts,” Sho admits, eyes drifting shut, but he keeps the smile on his face. “I might fall asleep in this tub.”
“I’ll wake you up,” Jun says, and soon, Sho feels Jun wiping between his thighs, the scent of the soap filling his nostrils.
He does fall asleep as Jun cleans him up, only stirring when Jun presses a kiss to his temple.
“I’ll wash your back, come on,” Jun says, and Sho leans forward, chin tucked between his knees as he lets Jun tend to him. Something like relief and gratefulness combined washes over him.
Jun washes him carefully but methodically. He doesn’t forget Sho’s underarms, and he doesn’t linger too long on the spots where Sho’s ticklish. When he’s done, he guides Sho out of the tub, and Sho feels drowsier than ever, muscles loose and begging for rest.
But he waits, allows Jun to dry him up with a towel, careful on the welts that undoubtedly color his ass. Jun then wraps him in a plush bathrobe, the one that Sho brought all the way from Tokyo and not the one issued by the hotel.
Jun leaves him then, and Sho sees him untucking the stained sheets from the bed. He proceeds to watch Jun grab the extra duvet from the closet. Jun makes the bed, even fluffs the pillows, all without a stitch of clothing on. It’s a little comical to see him so particular over the presentation of Sho’s bed when he’s stark naked.
When Jun returns, he has a bottle of lotion with him. How he found it in Sho’s belongings, Sho has no idea. “On the bed, on your stomach.”
Sho follows, untying the bathrobe and depositing it on the nearby chair as he sinks onto the sheets. He hears Jun climb on the bed, hears him uncapping the lotion.
“I’d fall asleep for real this time,” Sho says in warning, face half-smashed against the soft pillows.
Jun doesn’t say anything, and Sho feels his warm hands applying lotion on the sensitive skin of his ass. The touch is soothing, a far contrast from how Jun touched him earlier, and he lets the comfort lull him to sleep.
Hours later, on the plane, the pain Sho anticipated he’d feel once he sits is non-existent. Jun only has this knowing look on his face when Sho turns, and Sho grabs his phone.
All he types is a thumbs up emoji and he sends it to Jun’s number.
Soon enough, he hears Jun snorting in laughter.
--
They get a few weeks of respite thanks to Aiba rehearsing for Kouhaku. They cut back on the rehearsal hours so Aiba wouldn’t fall behind, but they still fill him in on all the stuff he’s bound to miss.
Sho does that by shooting choreography videos should there be any changes to a specific segment. Jun does it by typing out bulleted emails. Sho discovers it when he’s come over one night, just right after Zero.
“Honestly, Matsujun, I’m not even surprised you have each cue timed and indicated in another bullet subset,” he says, shaking his head with a smile after hovering behind Jun.
“Don’t snoop,” Jun says, waving him off. “I’m trying to make sure Masaki knows where to go. By the time he’s back, it’s a new venue.”
“Is this your way of cheering him on?” Sho chuckles. “You should just say it. I send him well-wishes every day, along with a reminder that I look forward to any happenings that might occur since it’s a live broadcast.”
Jun laughs, the kind that has his mouth open and eyes almost crinkling at the sides. It’s one that Sho likes seeing. “What a supportive bandmate.”
Sho leaves Jun to it, instead changing into the clothes he brought with him. Jun has already cleared a drawer for him months ago, but the ones in there are a few sizes smaller since Sho did gain a bit of muscle as he trained for his drama special.
“Don’t put those on,” is what Jun says next, and Sho looks over his shoulder to find Jun leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom.
Just to annoy him, Sho asks, “The shirt?” He lifts the material up, smiling when Jun’s eyes narrow behind the glint of his glasses. “Or the sweatpants?”
“Both,” Jun answers, but not without a click of his tongue.
Sho makes a show of tossing said garments to the direction of his bag, beckoning Jun to him. Jun gives him a look, something he returns. Then Jun relents, but not without a sigh like it’s so troublesome for him to enter his own bedroom to get laid.
Jun likes making things difficult, but what Sho often forgets is that Jun makes things difficult for himself most of the time.
During times like this, Sho initiates. He slings his arms around Jun’s neck, drawing Jun closer, and he plants quick kisses on the curve of Jun’s jaw. Jun removes his glasses, holds them in his hand as Sho’s mouth moves to brush against the pale column of Jun’s throat, at the beauty marks there. Sho has long memorized the precise location of each; his lips know where to linger.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Jun manages to ask.
That makes Sho pause. He draws back, but he keeps his arms locked around Jun’s neck. “What?”
“You heard me,” Jun says. Sho thinks that maybe Jun’s cheeks are coloring a bit, but he can’t quite tell in the darkness.
Sho ponders on what’s the appropriate answer. Jun knows why he’s here and what he wants; Jun always knows what he wants. But Jun also never fails to ask, more so when he’s uncertain and doesn’t want to hope.
It suddenly clicks, and Sho brushes a kiss to the angle of Jun’s lips. “Bullet number three.”
Jun must be frowning, but Sho feels him tense after, like he finally understood that Sho’s pertaining to that email. He asks quietly, “Are you sure?”
“Always am,” Sho says. He wants to admonish Jun for asking every time, but Jun did say that he has to hear Sho’s agreement every time. Sho wants to reach that stage wherein Jun would cease asking and just go after what he wants, but he knows they can’t rush to get there.
Jun steps back, gesturing to the door with a jerk of his head. “Then we can’t do it here. Wait for me on the couch.” His thumbs tickle Sho’s sides a bit. “Lose the boxers, and I want you braced on your elbows.”
“Bossy,” Sho comments, but he doesn’t mean it.
He struts to the living room without another word, does what Jun asked. He proceeds to kneel on the couch, knowing his backside seems presented to Jun once Jun joins him. In his desire to impress, Sho spreads his legs wider and leans down, rests his weight on his elbows, the backrest touching the head of his cock if he lowers his trunk a bit.
Sho tries not to; Jun would definitely say something about him leaving marks. He doesn’t want to get banned from visiting Jun indefinitely; Jun is, after all, the type who withholds sex in favor of his precious furniture.
Footsteps signal Jun approaching him, and Sho raises a perfectly arched eyebrow when he realizes Jun is circling the couch, like he’s appraising Sho’s position and how Sho followed his instruction.
Jun moves behind him, and a quick glance over his shoulder reveals Jun grabbing a cushion for him to kneel on. Then his hands are on Sho’s back, tracing muscles and bones, pressing and massaging in places that undoubtedly ache after a long day of work.
The action makes Sho nearly melt onto the couch, but he maintains his stance. Jun’s touch is as explorative as ever: he starts with light caresses over the expanse of Sho’s back, a finger tracing the ridges formed by Sho’s spine after. Jun moves to his sides, touching him all over, sneakily running the heel of his palms over Sho’s nipples, causing them to harden.
Sho twitches in response, but he manages not to say a word.
“You look good,” Jun says, and it’s so uncharacteristic for him to admit such a thing that it makes Sho lift his head to face him.
Sho finds that Jun’s cheekbones are more attractive when they’re flushed pink in embarrassment. He wants to kiss each, but he also wants to know what Jun would do next.
Without another word, he turns back, leans his weight on his forearms, elbows resting on the edge of the backrest. It’s a compromising position, but it seems to please Jun; his touches are firmer now, like Sho’s a map laid out before him and there are places he needs to mark, to assert claim over.
When Jun reaches his ass, Sho holds his breath. Jun spreads the cheeks, and Sho can’t help the tiny moan that escapes from him when he feels Jun exhale against the crack.
It’s Jun’s only warning for him. It’s followed by the unmistakable feel of Jun’s tongue pressing against his hole: wet, teasing flicks that make Sho’s thighs tremble as he struggles not to collapse against the couch.
Bullet number three in Jun’s email that contained all the things he wanted to do to Sho (and Sho’s ass in particular) read as: eat you out. Overall it is a crude email, with Jun not bothering to choose fancy words, instead going straight to the point. It made Sho blush at first read, half-hard at the second, and agreeing to everything at the third, hence the thumbs up emoji for a reply.
Jun’s hold on him is strong and firm, keeping him exposed. Jun licks around, and Sho doesn’t suppress any of the noises that escape from him; he wants Jun to know how this is affecting him.
Jun continues in this fashion for some time, just licking and tasting Sho, occasionally pulling back to blow a puff of hot air against Sho’s hole, but he returns every time, tongue now prodding.
Sho balances his weight on one arm and reaches back. It adds strain to his shoulders but he doesn’t care; he needs Jun to be closer. The change in position has him arching further, but he manages to card his fingers through Jun’s hair, fingertips now stroking Jun’s scalp as he pushes Jun’s face forward.
When Jun fucks him with his tongue, the sensation sends Sho to a series of moans, interspersed with Jun’s name as he pushes back, wanting more. Jun lets go of one ass cheek to fondle Sho’s balls. Jun’s relentless with his ministrations; a steady blush blooms from Sho’s chest up to his cheeks.
Jun reaches in front, and the first stroke on Sho’s cock has Sho’s breath hitching.
“Jun,” he warns. He won’t last; Jun’s not stopping, stroking his cock in time with each thrust of his tongue. His body moves on instinct, wanting to feel more of Jun.
He feels Jun resist, and Sho lets go of the fierce hold he has on Jun’s scalp.
“Don’t you dare come on my couch,” is what Jun says next, but his voice is gravelly and his statement came out rushed. Sho doesn’t need to look to know that Jun’s as hard as he is.
“Then don’t make me,” Sho hisses.
Jun squeezes one of his ass cheeks appreciatively, lands a light slap on it after. “Hold it.”
Then Jun ducks down once more, continues where he left off. Sho unconsciously reaches behind to grab a handful of hair, his body quaking with each slide of Jun’s tongue in him, and he finally allows his head to drop, his sweaty forehead making contact with his clenched fist. Sho uses his knees to keep himself propped up, but his hips involuntarily move to fuck Jun’s hand, the friction so good but not enough.
Jun withdraws, unhanding him completely, and when Sho turns his head to ask, he sees Jun uncapping the lube and spreading some on his fingers.
Their eyes meet, Jun’s laced with something like hope hidden behind a mask of indifference, Sho’s filled with anticipation.
Sho nods his assent, and he’s loose enough for one of Jun’s fingers to slip inside him with ease. Jun stretches him quickly, slipping another finger as soon as he can take it. Jun keeps him distracted by planting kisses all over his back, the curve of his ass. Sho feels Jun add another finger soon enough, and when he can finally meet the push of Jun’s fingers halfway, he clenches around them to make his point.
Jun curses between gritted teeth, fingers disappearing, leaving Sho deprived and impatient. Sho hears a packet tearing after, and Jun’s fingers are back, this time framing his hips as he lines up.
A hand reaches down between Sho’s legs, gives the base of his cock a squeeze. “Hold it,” Jun says for the second time that night.
Then Jun pushes in, but Sho has to rest his weight on his forearms to compensate. Jun goes slowly, like he’s watching how his cock disappears into Sho’s hole, thrusting forward and pulling back out, until Sho manages to take all of him. Jun’s hands frame Sho’s hips, allowing Sho a few seconds of reprieve before Jun moves.
Jun works up a slow and steady rhythm, like he wants to remember this. It’s been too long since Sho felt Jun inside him, since they allowed themselves to have this much time around each other. He pushes back, tries to meet every thrust, and Jun picks up pace, his need taking over his desires to prolong this.
It’s possible that Jun missed him too, with the way his movements turn erratic and desperate. Noises and other strings of filth escape from Jun’s mouth, and Sho tries to wrap his head around them. He reddens all over when he realizes they’re praises, like Jun’s so pleased and satisfied and thankful and needy—all at the same time.
“You feel so fucking good,” Jun is saying, punctuating it with a sharp thrust that shifts the couch despite their weight on it. “So good, Sho. So fucking good.”
“You said I looked good earlier,” Sho manages to breathe out in between moans.
Jun’s grip on him tightens, and now he’s snapping his hips. “You did. You do.”
Sho twitches at those words, flushes all the more.
“Fuck me,” he demands, pushing back, relishing the feel of Jun’s thick cock sliding in and out of him, again and again. “Keep fucking me, Jun. Fuck me.”
Jun suddenly rakes his nails on Sho’s ass, and Sho’s spine curves as a reaction. He hears Jun’s repeated curses and feels him come, body shuddering behind him, hips slowing down as Jun rides his orgasm out.
It takes Jun a couple of seconds to move, and by the time he eases himself out, Sho’s so close to begging for Jun to make him come. He wants to touch himself, but he’d make a mess all over the couch’s backrest. His arms are beginning to ache from the prolonged strain he put on them, but Jun’s touch is gentle when he coaxes Sho to a sitting position.
Without a word, Jun spreads his legs, kneels between them before lifting them up, anchoring each on his shoulders. Sho’s shock ends in a swift exhale; Jun’s tongue proceeds to lick around his hole before entering him, fucking him with it once more.
Sho reaches down, not caring anymore. He strokes himself fast, focusing on the feeling of Jun’s tongue making repeated swipes around his hole, the warm puffs of breath on his rear. He’s close and his toes are curling, back lifting on its own off the couch.
He comes when Jun’s tongue licks from his hole to his perineum, limbs jolting as he shuts his eyes, both hands trying to catch most of his release before his mind momentarily blanks out.
When Sho’s haze has subsided, he looks down and blinks at sight of Jun: cheek resting against the inside of his now-lowered legs. Jun’s mouth is plush and red, swollen not from kisses but from what he did to Sho. Combined with Jun’s face having this healthy, pink tinge, it makes for such an attractive look, one that Sho can’t resist.
Sho leans forward then down, meeting Jun in a kiss. It’s languid and not forceful, but just as demanding like most of the kisses they share. Sho breaks off the kiss to press his forehead against Jun’s, and he laughs a little.
“I picked a good one for tonight,” he says.
Jun snorts tiredly, but then his eyes search Sho’s. “How was it?” he asks, sounding unsure.
Sho frowns. Then he points to the state of his stomach, at the streaks of his come that are beginning to dry up.
Jun chuckles, a huff against Sho’s cheek. “No, I mean...is it something you’d want to do again?”
“What does it look like?”
Jun smiles, then pushes Sho back against the couch as he stands. Jun then leans down, and Sho wraps his arms around his neck to have him closer as they share another kiss.
“We should clean up,” Jun says, nose scrunching when they part for air. They’re sweaty and Sho’s sticky in some places, but his limbs feel like they shouldn’t move yet, at least not so soon.
“Later,” Sho says, and he’s certain he hears Jun’s defeated sigh before Jun claims his mouth again.
--
Christmas evening is the only evening they have free thanks to Kouhaku rehearsals and other obligations. But Sho is thankful for it, and he actually spends some time with his family before heading to Jun’s place. He lets himself in using the spare key Jun slipped into his jeans a few days ago, and he finds Jun arranging leftover presents under his Christmas tree.
Jun always buys a lot, and while Sho knows that Jun has numerous circles of friends, he still doesn’t understand Jun’s desires to hand over something to nearly everyone he knows.
“Merry Christmas,” Sho says anyway. It’s late but not yet midnight.
Jun returns the greeting, then turns back to his Christmas tree.
Sho takes that as his cue to change into the present he procured weeks ago. It’s nothing much; he isn’t planning to crossdress or get into a skintight outfit. He sheds off his clothes in Jun’s bedroom and changes to what he bought, looks around and marches back outside the living room.
“Camouflage, really?” is Jun’s immediate comment, sounding unimpressed. He’s now on the couch, nursing a glass of wine. There’s an empty glass on the table in front of him, but Sho’s not really in the mood for wine.
Sho’s indeed wearing a camouflage designed underwear, the patterned material covering his crotch. He doesn’t let Jun’s disbelieving tone intimidate him, instead he moves to straddle Jun without another word, hoping his actions exude confidence and don’t betray his underlying nervousness.
“Careful,” Jun says with a frown, gesturing to his wine glass. “You almost made me spill some.”
Sho ignores the disapproving tone and grabs Jun’s free hand to put it on his rear.
He smiles when Jun’s eyes widen.
“Oh,” is all Jun says. Sho’s underwear is the same one he picked up on Yakai that time he was on Nichome, a piece of camouflage-patterned cloth covering his crotch, two straps of thick garter attached to it to support his bare ass. It’s something he’d claimed he’d never wear but didn’t specify that he’d only do so at the right place, the right time, and for the right person.
“Yes,” Sho says, grinning. “Oh.”
Jun finishes the rest of his wine and sets his glass on the table, then he uses both hands to squeeze Sho’s ass.
“Don’t you hate my love for camouflage?” Sho asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Jun cranes his neck, teeth catching on an earlobe and tugging. “This time, I don’t.”
“You like it, then?”
Sho can feel Jun’s grin against his ear.
“It’ll do.”
Things fall into place soon after that: Sho’s hands know where to go, clutching territorially on Jun’s shoulders. Jun cups his ass, presses closer to him, and each time Sho writhes on top of Jun’s lap, he feels Jun’s erection brushing against the inside of his thigh.
Jun’s kisses are slower than usual, softer and the kind that lingers, scattered all over his face. Jun kisses his cheeks, his jawline, his temples, forehead, even the tip of his nose. He’s uncharacteristically patient despite the insistent press of his erection against Sho.
It makes Sho want to wrap himself around Jun, stay there until their time is over. It’s Christmas and he grants himself this, savoring Jun’s sweet and repeated kisses, giving back by meeting him in the middle.
Jun’s fingers find the cleft of his ass, tracing, tickling, until Sho twitches away with a breathless laugh.
“What’s up with you?” he asks curiously, peering at Jun to see his face better.
“Am I doing something wrong?” Jun asks back, but his hands continue in their casual exploration, featherlight skims of fingertips generating gooseflesh on their wake.
“No, but you’re being...slow tonight,” Sho says, trying not to squirm. “Patient Matsujun, who would have thought?”
“I want to take it slow tonight,” Jun tells him, eyes open and hopeful.
Sho would never deny Jun anything, but he has to ask: “Why?”
“I want to enjoy my time with you, now that it’s longer,” Jun admits, burying his face in the crook of Sho’s neck.
“We have work tomorrow,” Sho points out. There’s always a performance they have to rehearse for.
Jun clicks his tongue. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
“Okay,” Sho acquiesces, but he nudges Jun with his shoulder. “You know I’m fine with anything you want. But I want to see you tonight.”
Jun’s large eyes blink at him in confusion.
Sho just nods, reaching up to smooth the furrow formed by Jun’s brows. “Whatever you’ve got in mind, you do it facing me. Looking at me. I want to see you.”
“All right,” Jun whispers, close to Sho’s mouth. “All right.”
They move at the same time, with practiced ease, nothing too different from executing a memorized choreography. Sho discards Jun’s shirt, leaves kisses on patches of newly-revealed skin, feeling Jun’s every exhale and corresponding shudder under his lips.
When Sho’s knees begin to ache, Jun nudges him to lie on his back. They have to break apart for their limbs to find their proper places, and by the time Jun is between Sho’s legs, one of Sho’s ankles resting on Jun’s shoulder, Sho’s already hard and bordering on impatient.
“Hurry up a bit,” he breathes, toes curling as Jun rains kisses on his raised leg, to his knee.
“I like seeing you like this,” Jun says, teeth lightly grazing Sho’s skin.
Sho can feel his cheeks heat up. He’s used to being stared at; it’s part of his job as an idol. But under Jun’s scrutiny, he flushes, becomes self-conscious. He knows he’s got small shoulders which are more obvious because of the girth of his neck.
“I thought you like my ass,” Sho says, not looking away from Jun.
“I do,” Jun affirms, dropping another kiss to Sho’s ankle. “But I never said I like your ass only.”
Sho can feel his heart hammering; his mind now littered with questions.
Jun bends forward, as far as Sho’s leg can go while it’s still anchored to his shoulder. “I like your body,” Jun says, kissing Sho’s pout away. “I like your body because it’s yours.”
Sho can’t say anything to an admission as raw and as sincere as that. It’s similar to that time Jun confessed he likes Sho’s ass and legs. It hits harder now because there’s no alcohol that could’ve made Jun’s tongue loose. Jun has been drinking wine long enough that he has developed tolerance for it.
Instead of replying, Sho hooks his other leg around Jun’s waist, hands reaching for Jun’s face to pull him close and find his mouth. To Sho, each kiss they share now means more. Jun doesn’t like anybody’s assets. He likes Sho’s, and all the underlying implications of that statement alone make Sho shiver.
Eventually Jun takes his boxers off and they’re skin to skin, save for the underwear Sho still has on. Jun cups him through the material over his crotch, squeezing lightly, and Sho digs his nails into Jun’s biceps as a reaction.
“Jun,” he hisses, wanting more but willing to wait, to let Jun take his time.
“You look so good,” Jun husks, hands sneaking behind to cup Sho’s ass. He uses that hold to pull Sho’s lower half closer to him, and Sho feels the press of Jun’s cock against his thigh, the tip leaving a damp trail of precome.
“Even with the camouflage?” Sho manages to ask. He hopes it came out as playfully as he intended. “I wore it for you,” he adds, closing his eyes to avoid seeing Jun’s reaction.
“I know,” Jun replies, knuckles brushing over his cheekbone gently—affectionately. “I like it on you. On its own, I don’t, but when you’re wearing it…”
Jun reaches for Sho’s wrists and pins them above his head using one hand. With his other, he squeezes Sho’s erection through the fabric.
“I want you,” Jun whispers, his eyes so dark. “You don’t even know how much.”
“Then show me,” Sho tells him, bucking back to feel more of his touch.
Sho expects Jun to hasten his movements after that, but Jun does the opposite. He moves as if he’s trying to learn every line, every crevice formed by Sho’s muscles and bones. He touches with his hands, mouth, and tongue, leaving wet trails that make Sho unable to hold back his moans.
But even Jun’s newfound patience has its limits; soon, but not as soon as Sho would’ve preferred, Jun is moving Sho’s legs to give himself more room. Sho allows his limbs to be maneuvered, his legs spread and exposing everything save for his cock.
Jun leans down, face disappearing between Sho’s legs, and Sho feels him plant chaste kisses to the back of his thighs, the heat traveling down, down, until Jun’s mouth reaches his ass.
The first flick of Jun’s tongue against his hole isn’t surprising, but Sho still jolts at the sensation. Jun licks around, opening him up, leaving him writhing on the couch. The last time Jun did this, Sho nearly came from just his mouth alone. Sho wants to do better tonight, to stave off the orgasm building in him to prolong the experience.
Jun’s tongue moves up, past the garter straps and right above the piece of fabric that covers Sho’s erection. He sucks at the material open-mouthed, and Sho arches; he can’t help it.
Jun withdraws to dig under the cushions, and Sho nearly laughs when he finds a tube of lube in Jun’s hand.
“I’m not even surprised you have that ready,” he says, smiling as Jun uncaps it and spreads some on his fingers. “What, you watch porn in your living room?”
Jun ignores his teasing comment in favor of slicking his fingers thoroughly. “You were coming over,” Jun reasons, fingers now glistening under the light. “I knew you weren’t coming over for a glass of wine.”
Jun’s finger slips inside Sho without warning, leaving Sho sighing, relaxing at the attentive way Jun is dealing with him. Jun stretches him slow, fingers scissoring in and out of him, eyes never straying from his face.
“How do I look right now?” Sho asks, truly wanting to know. He’s clenching around Jun’s fingers, hissing when Jun curls his digits and locates his prostate, strokes it in circles.
“Perfect,” is Jun’s answer, and Sho bites his bottom lip as the words course through him like a drug rush. He quakes under Jun’s touch, unable to hide how the praise affects him.
He begins moving along with Jun’s fingers, half-crying, half-laughing at the continuous stimulation. Jun’s other hand finds its way to his lips, and Sho sucks three of his fingers eagerly, letting Jun fuck his mouth and his ass simultaneously in the same slow, maddening rhythm.
A soft moan escapes from Jun, and his gaze feels far more intimate than what his fingers are doing. Sho bites lightly on Jun’s digits, and Jun shudders, mouth parting in lust.
“Fuck,” Jun says, then he fucks Sho faster, the sounds slick and obscene as Sho continues taking Jun’s fingers. “You’re perfect, Sho. You’re so perfect.”
Sho shivers at the unadulterated praise, eyes welded shut as he gives in, loses himself to the continuous stimulations. His cock is straining in his underwear, and in a moment of lucidity, he moans around Jun’s fingers, wondering if he’s coherent.
Jun pulls his fingers out of Sho’s mouth, dragging the wet digits down Sho’s chest. “What was that?” Jun asks, fingers tweaking a nipple before pinching it.
“Touch me,” Sho begs, not caring that he sounds so needy, bearing down on Jun’s fingers that are still fucking him.
Sho feels Jun’s fingers fumbling for the catch of his underwear, and he sighs in relief when his cock is freed, curving heavily on his abdomen, twitching when Jun curls his fingers once more inside him.
Sho lets out a groan when Jun pumps him using the same hand that Jun shoved in his mouth earlier, still somewhat slick from Sho’s own drool.
It doesn’t take long for him to climax. Jun’s touches are precise, like he knows exactly how to bring Sho to the brink, wrist twisting just right.
Sho feels his orgasm ripple through him, Jun’s name spilling freely from his lips, hips lifting off the couch as pleasure washes over him. He barely notices Jun pull his fingers out, and when he finally opens his eyes, he sees Jun touching himself, hand relentless around his own cock.
One of Jun’s hands reaches down to squeeze Sho’s ass cheek, kneading as he goes faster. Jun is panting, the usual pallor of his skin now an attractive shade of red, coloring his torso and cheeks.
“Sho,” Jun moans, the filthy sounds of him working his cock echoing in Sho’s ears. “Sho, Sho.”
Sho licks his lips, hands moving up to pinch his own nipples, hissing at the feeling but smiling at Jun’s eyes widening. He sucks three of his own fingers into his mouth, looking at Jun with half-lidded eyes, his other hand still twisting his nipple.
“Jun,” is all he says around his fingers, and combined with how he looks, it’s the push Jun needs.
Jun comes, face contorting in pleasure, streaks of his warm release dirtying Sho’s abdomen. Sho reaches up to grab Jun by the nape and pulls Jun down to him, plants kisses all over Jun’s flushed face.
“You’re really ugly when you come,” Sho teases, later when he feels Jun kiss back, albeit slightly lethargic.
“I can say the same for you,” Jun says, but he’s smiling and it reaches his eyes.
Sho strokes Jun’s cheekbones using his thumbs, not minding the growing stickiness he’s beginning to feel. He’d definitely regret not cleaning up, but right now, Jun’s proximity is all he needs.
Jun tends to get a little claustrophobic after sex, so Sho pokes Jun’s sides, where Jun’s really ticklish, to keep him from moving just yet. Jun clicks his tongue, but Sho just laughs, wraps his arms around Jun’s form and holds him close.
“You’re filthy,” Jun complains, but he’s not moving a muscle. Sho feels Jun turn him to his side so the two of them can fit on the couch as they breathe in each other’s spaces.
“You like me anyway,” Sho retorts with confidence, laughing again when Jun scowls. “Someday I’ll get you to say it, Matsujun.”
“You’re annoying,” Jun tells him, but there’s a possessive hand resting on the small of Sho’s back, keeping him where he is. As if Sho has the intention of moving.
Sho rolls his eyes before letting them slide shut, exhaustion creeping up his bones. Jun would probably hate it if he dozes off, still sticky with come and his sweat drying off his skin, but he can’t help it.
“Don’t drift off just yet,” Jun whispers against his ear.
“Just a few minutes,” Sho murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be up in a while, I promise.”
The protests from Jun that Sho’s expecting don’t come, and he waits, knowing there must be something else that Jun wants him to know.
“Thank you,” Jun says, tucking an errant strand behind Sho’s ear.
Eyes still closed, Sho asks, “What for?”
“You know what.”
The confidence in Jun’s tone makes him smile, as well as the knowledge that Jun will be there when he wakes up, this time with no reservations and hesitations, ready and eager to meet him halfway, to compromise in order to make it work. For Sho, seeing Jun happy makes him happy. He knows it’ll take a while before Jun’s completely comfortable, but he’s willing to wait.
They’ll get there.
Sho falls asleep to fingers playing with the strands of his hair and stroking his scalp tenderly. There might be a kiss to his hair that followed after, but he’s too drowsy to be able to tell.