[fic] midnight directives
Title: Midnight Directives
Characters/Pairing: Yokoo/Fujigaya
Rating: nc-17
Summary: pwp
Notes: Written as part of the 'quick and dirty late summer pwp exchange' for omoikkiri. I tried, and I hope this might sort of fill her prompt but I'm going to cautionarly say now I owe you something better in the future. Thank you to rockthecliche for the beta.
Links to other exchange fics: omoikkiri - orange_c_c - un_sanzo - noella84 - mousapelli
.
There’s that jolt of fear and unease that comes with waking in a dark, unknown room before remembering where you are. It passes quickly once Yokoo hears a voice drift, softly muffled through the thin hotel wall, and memories and realisations come back. He tsks softly to himself and his pillow that whoever it is should be asleep, but then the soft glow of his alarm clock tells him that it’s not actually that late. He just went to bed too early.
They went to bed too early but after watching playbacks and taking notes and discussing planned concert changes over shared plates of room service, there really had been nothing else to do. Yokoo rolls to his side and wills sleep to return. From across the room there’s an echo of the same sound of restless movement and when his eyes flicker open again, he instantly meets Fujigaya’s returning gaze.
“Can’t sleep?” Yokoo asks, a soft hmm the only response, then the rustle of stiff hotel sheets as Fujigaya rises, followed by the soft pad of footsteps traversing across the room.
Without much ado or permission, Fujigaya crawls with still sleepy slow limbs into Yokoo’s bed, shoves the blankets down and away and throws a leg over to straddle Yokoo’s thighs. There’s a familiarity and ease between them, like old worn habits, and with small, deliberate twists and circles of his hips grinding down Fujigaya works them both hard while his fingers rake up Yokoo’s chest, dragging the t-shirt up and off as they go. Yokoo makes steady work undressing Fujigaya in return before settling back against the pillows, watching as Fujigaya does as he pleases.
Through the adjoining wall, Yokoo hears the melody of an anime opening, the chords of Kitayama strumming on a guitar followed by the rise and fall of Tamamori’s voice. It’s annoying and distracting and the small noises Fujigaya’s making aren’t nearly enough to drown them out - but Fujigaya is often quiet, often hard to see when his bangs fall forward, obscuring and casting shadows across his face. And while Fujigaya leans sweetly into the delicate touch of Yokoo’s hand cupping his cheek, allows Yokoo to tilt his head up, his eyes fall frustratingly closed, hiding, still.
Normally Yokoo is happy with just this, likes how the shared air between them gets hot with each breathy, silent gasp but tonight it isn’t exactly what he wants.
“You have everything in your bag, right?” Fujigaya’s voice is just a whisper but it breaks so loud through the silence.
Yokoo nods and wordlessly works his way out from under Fujigaya to rummage through his luggage. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Fujigaya move little from his spot on the bed except to wiggle out of his boxers and then, completely naked, strokes himself impatiently. Something of the scene triggers a spark inside Yokoo, a restlessness of Fujigaya always just taking.
It’s easy at first to turn the tables and take control. Fujigaya willingly lets himself be pushed down onto his back, spreads his own legs and draws warm hands up and down Yokoo’s arm, encouraging, but grows confused when all Yokoo does is trace his entrance with a slick lubed finger.
“What are you-” but Fujigaya cuts off and just squirms at the tickle of the sensation.
“Waiting for you to ask for it.” Yokoo replies to the hanging question and then bites back a laugh, humoured by the way Fujigaya’s mouth falls a little agape, then shuts as his eyes shift dark like turning storm clouds and he stays firmly silent. Stubbornness was the expected response and Yokoo doesn’t push the demand for the moment, but he does reach up with his clean hand to comb back Fujigaya’s bangs out of the way so he can watch his reactions, see as his eyes flutter almost closed with the first slide of Yokoo’s finger.
It’s a painful tease, just one finger barely to the second knuckle in gentle movements and Fujigaya tries to push down, but Yokoo only pulls his hand back in response. He takes his time before adding a second, matches the steady in and out and stretching to the rise and fall of Fujigaya’s chest, each exhale and inhale deep and slow as the other tries to slow his rising pulse. Yokoo tweaks a nipple just to break the pace and Fujigaya clenches around his fingers, tight, as his eyes flash open.
“Still waiting for you to ask,” Yokoo smiles serenely as he grinds himself in slow circles into the mattress to control his own urge for release. And while the reply is once again still silence Yokoo has always been weak to Fujigaya’s almond pleading eyes and, despite not being able to hear his name falling from Fujigaya’s breath, he can read it by the movement of swollen bitten lips.
The sigh of relief is barely audible as Yokoo hikes Fujigaya’s knees up and slots into the space between them, hips snug together. He jabs bluntly at his entrance, still holding back just to torture, but then the groan of desperation is so loud Yokoo freezes, taken aback in surprise and Fujigaya’s cheeks colour in embarrassment. It’s an alluring image and Yokoo pushes into the tightness harder than originally intended, then stops as he waits for Fujigaya’s body to relax around him.
The thrusts start shallow and controlled, nothing akin to their usual pattern of Fujigaya riding him fast and erratic. Yokoo enjoys that too but Fujigaya’s current frustration at dragging it out gives him a new satisfaction. Fujigaya reaches a hand down to touch himself in search of any release but Yokoo catches his wrists deftly and pulls it away. Catches the other, too, when it heads south with a similar intention.
“Manners Taisuke. If you want that, you should ask for it too.”
Instead of replying Fujigaya just leans up to fuse their mouths together desperately, arches so the wet tip of his cock slides along Yokoo’s stomach with each thrust. The kiss is sloppy and hot with tongues tangled but it’s not what Yokoo wants from Fujigaya’s pretty mouth and it takes all his restraint to break the kiss and lean back putting distance between their bodies.
“Watta, please,” Fujigaya’s voice catches on the words.
Yokoo’s hips slow waiting to see if Fujigaya will continue “Please what?”
“Just-” and Fujigaya stops again, tries to pull his wrists free of Yokoo’s hold.
“It’s so unlike you to be so quiet, you should let out your voice," pauses to draw one of Fujigaya's captured hands towards him and brushes lips across the knuckles, "Since you have such a beautiful voice.”
“I thought you liked how I danced.” Fujigaya states to be complacent and starts to roll his hips up in a countering fast pace as if to prove a point.
Yokoo releases his grip on Fujigaya's wrists to reach down and grasp at his hips instead in attempt to control the way Fujigaya moves his hips and curls legs around him, egging him on to go faster and deeper. It’s a mistake as Fujigaya doesn’t touch himself once free but instead touches anywhere and everywhere of Yokoo he can reach. Fingernails scrape along the back of Yokoo’s neck and it echoes between his shoulderblades and down his spine, making his hips snap sharp and Fujigaya moans loudly, brazenly, as it must have hit the right spot.
“Again.” Then adds a desperate, almost annoyed, please when Yokoo doesn’t initially comply. The rhythm of Yokoo’s thrusts shudder as the timbre of Fujigaya’s ensuing moans and noisy pleas tickle across Yokoo’s skin. He has to bite his own lip down now to hold himself back from eliciting an equally loud noise; squeezes his eyes briefly shut to escape the image of Fujigaya writhing beneath him.
When he opens his eyes again there’s a dangerous moment when their gaze connects instantly like always and then Fujigaya’s lips curl into a devilish smile as his eyes gleam bright in the dark with realisation.
“Fuck. Me.” Fujigaya’s tone has changed, loud and clear now instead of a mumbled appeal, and Fujigaya dances warm fingertips over all his skin and repeats it loudly over and over. They rock faster together and Fujigaya keeps talking, half the things he‘s saying might probably be lines Fujigaya’s learnt from a porno but they work their effect leaving Yokoo panting and his ears burning.
Yokoo tries to say stop, to slow down, to gain back control but when Fujigaya launches into a teasing soliloquy about how much he loves Yokoo’s cock, needs it, how he wants it, Yokoo can barely breathe in reply as his orgasm spirals up and hits like a brick wall, unexpected.
“Fuck you,” Yokoo grouses as he pulls out gently before falling forward to collapse by Fujigaya’s side, hissing slightly at the feel of skin on skin as aftershocks keep rolling through .
“Uh-huh, fuck me Yokoo-san, keep fucking me.” Fujigaya calls loudly, the end lilting up into a musical laugh that breaks off into a garbled moan as Yokoo reaches down to jerk his cock roughly. Yokoo growls, dragging teeth across Fujigaya’s sternum and then he’s coming too, spilling over Yokoo’s hand spent and falling quiet again.
Yokoo is eyeing the stains on his sheets left by cum when Fujigaya whispers “My sheets are still clean,” as if reading his thoughts. They barely make the few stumbling steps across the room before falling into Fujigaya’s bed and back asleep.
Characters/Pairing: Yokoo/Fujigaya
Rating: nc-17
Summary: pwp
Notes: Written as part of the 'quick and dirty late summer pwp exchange' for omoikkiri. I tried, and I hope this might sort of fill her prompt but I'm going to cautionarly say now I owe you something better in the future. Thank you to rockthecliche for the beta.
Links to other exchange fics: omoikkiri - orange_c_c - un_sanzo - noella84 - mousapelli
.
There’s that jolt of fear and unease that comes with waking in a dark, unknown room before remembering where you are. It passes quickly once Yokoo hears a voice drift, softly muffled through the thin hotel wall, and memories and realisations come back. He tsks softly to himself and his pillow that whoever it is should be asleep, but then the soft glow of his alarm clock tells him that it’s not actually that late. He just went to bed too early.
They went to bed too early but after watching playbacks and taking notes and discussing planned concert changes over shared plates of room service, there really had been nothing else to do. Yokoo rolls to his side and wills sleep to return. From across the room there’s an echo of the same sound of restless movement and when his eyes flicker open again, he instantly meets Fujigaya’s returning gaze.
“Can’t sleep?” Yokoo asks, a soft hmm the only response, then the rustle of stiff hotel sheets as Fujigaya rises, followed by the soft pad of footsteps traversing across the room.
Without much ado or permission, Fujigaya crawls with still sleepy slow limbs into Yokoo’s bed, shoves the blankets down and away and throws a leg over to straddle Yokoo’s thighs. There’s a familiarity and ease between them, like old worn habits, and with small, deliberate twists and circles of his hips grinding down Fujigaya works them both hard while his fingers rake up Yokoo’s chest, dragging the t-shirt up and off as they go. Yokoo makes steady work undressing Fujigaya in return before settling back against the pillows, watching as Fujigaya does as he pleases.
Through the adjoining wall, Yokoo hears the melody of an anime opening, the chords of Kitayama strumming on a guitar followed by the rise and fall of Tamamori’s voice. It’s annoying and distracting and the small noises Fujigaya’s making aren’t nearly enough to drown them out - but Fujigaya is often quiet, often hard to see when his bangs fall forward, obscuring and casting shadows across his face. And while Fujigaya leans sweetly into the delicate touch of Yokoo’s hand cupping his cheek, allows Yokoo to tilt his head up, his eyes fall frustratingly closed, hiding, still.
Normally Yokoo is happy with just this, likes how the shared air between them gets hot with each breathy, silent gasp but tonight it isn’t exactly what he wants.
“You have everything in your bag, right?” Fujigaya’s voice is just a whisper but it breaks so loud through the silence.
Yokoo nods and wordlessly works his way out from under Fujigaya to rummage through his luggage. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Fujigaya move little from his spot on the bed except to wiggle out of his boxers and then, completely naked, strokes himself impatiently. Something of the scene triggers a spark inside Yokoo, a restlessness of Fujigaya always just taking.
It’s easy at first to turn the tables and take control. Fujigaya willingly lets himself be pushed down onto his back, spreads his own legs and draws warm hands up and down Yokoo’s arm, encouraging, but grows confused when all Yokoo does is trace his entrance with a slick lubed finger.
“What are you-” but Fujigaya cuts off and just squirms at the tickle of the sensation.
“Waiting for you to ask for it.” Yokoo replies to the hanging question and then bites back a laugh, humoured by the way Fujigaya’s mouth falls a little agape, then shuts as his eyes shift dark like turning storm clouds and he stays firmly silent. Stubbornness was the expected response and Yokoo doesn’t push the demand for the moment, but he does reach up with his clean hand to comb back Fujigaya’s bangs out of the way so he can watch his reactions, see as his eyes flutter almost closed with the first slide of Yokoo’s finger.
It’s a painful tease, just one finger barely to the second knuckle in gentle movements and Fujigaya tries to push down, but Yokoo only pulls his hand back in response. He takes his time before adding a second, matches the steady in and out and stretching to the rise and fall of Fujigaya’s chest, each exhale and inhale deep and slow as the other tries to slow his rising pulse. Yokoo tweaks a nipple just to break the pace and Fujigaya clenches around his fingers, tight, as his eyes flash open.
“Still waiting for you to ask,” Yokoo smiles serenely as he grinds himself in slow circles into the mattress to control his own urge for release. And while the reply is once again still silence Yokoo has always been weak to Fujigaya’s almond pleading eyes and, despite not being able to hear his name falling from Fujigaya’s breath, he can read it by the movement of swollen bitten lips.
The sigh of relief is barely audible as Yokoo hikes Fujigaya’s knees up and slots into the space between them, hips snug together. He jabs bluntly at his entrance, still holding back just to torture, but then the groan of desperation is so loud Yokoo freezes, taken aback in surprise and Fujigaya’s cheeks colour in embarrassment. It’s an alluring image and Yokoo pushes into the tightness harder than originally intended, then stops as he waits for Fujigaya’s body to relax around him.
The thrusts start shallow and controlled, nothing akin to their usual pattern of Fujigaya riding him fast and erratic. Yokoo enjoys that too but Fujigaya’s current frustration at dragging it out gives him a new satisfaction. Fujigaya reaches a hand down to touch himself in search of any release but Yokoo catches his wrists deftly and pulls it away. Catches the other, too, when it heads south with a similar intention.
“Manners Taisuke. If you want that, you should ask for it too.”
Instead of replying Fujigaya just leans up to fuse their mouths together desperately, arches so the wet tip of his cock slides along Yokoo’s stomach with each thrust. The kiss is sloppy and hot with tongues tangled but it’s not what Yokoo wants from Fujigaya’s pretty mouth and it takes all his restraint to break the kiss and lean back putting distance between their bodies.
“Watta, please,” Fujigaya’s voice catches on the words.
Yokoo’s hips slow waiting to see if Fujigaya will continue “Please what?”
“Just-” and Fujigaya stops again, tries to pull his wrists free of Yokoo’s hold.
“It’s so unlike you to be so quiet, you should let out your voice," pauses to draw one of Fujigaya's captured hands towards him and brushes lips across the knuckles, "Since you have such a beautiful voice.”
“I thought you liked how I danced.” Fujigaya states to be complacent and starts to roll his hips up in a countering fast pace as if to prove a point.
Yokoo releases his grip on Fujigaya's wrists to reach down and grasp at his hips instead in attempt to control the way Fujigaya moves his hips and curls legs around him, egging him on to go faster and deeper. It’s a mistake as Fujigaya doesn’t touch himself once free but instead touches anywhere and everywhere of Yokoo he can reach. Fingernails scrape along the back of Yokoo’s neck and it echoes between his shoulderblades and down his spine, making his hips snap sharp and Fujigaya moans loudly, brazenly, as it must have hit the right spot.
“Again.” Then adds a desperate, almost annoyed, please when Yokoo doesn’t initially comply. The rhythm of Yokoo’s thrusts shudder as the timbre of Fujigaya’s ensuing moans and noisy pleas tickle across Yokoo’s skin. He has to bite his own lip down now to hold himself back from eliciting an equally loud noise; squeezes his eyes briefly shut to escape the image of Fujigaya writhing beneath him.
When he opens his eyes again there’s a dangerous moment when their gaze connects instantly like always and then Fujigaya’s lips curl into a devilish smile as his eyes gleam bright in the dark with realisation.
“Fuck. Me.” Fujigaya’s tone has changed, loud and clear now instead of a mumbled appeal, and Fujigaya dances warm fingertips over all his skin and repeats it loudly over and over. They rock faster together and Fujigaya keeps talking, half the things he‘s saying might probably be lines Fujigaya’s learnt from a porno but they work their effect leaving Yokoo panting and his ears burning.
Yokoo tries to say stop, to slow down, to gain back control but when Fujigaya launches into a teasing soliloquy about how much he loves Yokoo’s cock, needs it, how he wants it, Yokoo can barely breathe in reply as his orgasm spirals up and hits like a brick wall, unexpected.
“Fuck you,” Yokoo grouses as he pulls out gently before falling forward to collapse by Fujigaya’s side, hissing slightly at the feel of skin on skin as aftershocks keep rolling through .
“Uh-huh, fuck me Yokoo-san, keep fucking me.” Fujigaya calls loudly, the end lilting up into a musical laugh that breaks off into a garbled moan as Yokoo reaches down to jerk his cock roughly. Yokoo growls, dragging teeth across Fujigaya’s sternum and then he’s coming too, spilling over Yokoo’s hand spent and falling quiet again.
Yokoo is eyeing the stains on his sheets left by cum when Fujigaya whispers “My sheets are still clean,” as if reading his thoughts. They barely make the few stumbling steps across the room before falling into Fujigaya’s bed and back asleep.