[Fic] Hanabi (2/?)
Summary: Naoto makes a move.
Pairing: Naoto/Naoki
Rating: M
Chapter 1 | 2
The concert is a success. Naoki has just finished his turn in the showers and is putting on a shirt in the dressing room when Naoto pokes his head around, wearing nothing but his boxers.
“Naoki, I seem to have misplaced my towel. Can I borrow one from you before the rest finish their showers?” He sidles up to his co-leader with a grin, tugging at his sleeve for added effect.
“Ah, sure. Give me a moment.”
He turns around to pass him a clean towel, and Naoto’s on him in a flash, making him stumble back, slamming him into the wall. He opens his mouth in surprise, and Naoto shoves his tongue inside.
Naoki’s gasp is muffled. Naoto’s all over him, tearing his shirt off, pulling him down, pinning his shoulders, trapping his lips, thighs against his, bare torso against his. Crotch against his. The sensations are overwhelming, and for a brief moment, Naoki’s brain short circuits.
Naoto’s mouth is warm. Naoto’s lips are soft. Naoto is so, so attractive, but Naoki’s eyes are closed. He dares not look at the perfection that is Naoto. Naoto knows exactly what he’s doing; his lips shift, and his tongue tenderly explores Naoki’s mouth, sliding over the roof and his teeth, tentatively pressing at Naoki’s tongue. Just as hesitantly, Naoki lifts his tongue up, and then they’re wrapping around each other, slipping between their mouths and wrestling.
Naoto’s broad shoulders feel too good beneath Naoki’s fingers. His body rubs against him, skin to skin, generating delicious friction and heat. His hands caress the back of Naoki’s head, fingers threading through his hair.
Naoki’s running out of air, but he doesn’t want it to stop. When Naoto pulls back, he whimpers just a little. He’s breathing a little too heavily. Naoto’s cheeks are flushed, his breathing just as hard. His pupils are dilated, and the corners of his lips lift in a smile.
He reaches to his left. The towel. Naoki dropped it. Forgot about it. Naoto sits on his thighs, saying, “Thank you, Naoki.”
Too quick for the other to respond, Naoto leans in and hooks a finger beneath his chin, pulling him closer for a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Then he’s drawing back and getting up and sashaying out the door, and Naoki’s frozen solid with a burning need in him that he can’t explain.
Pairing: Naoto/Naoki
Rating: M
Chapter 1 | 2
The concert is a success. Naoki has just finished his turn in the showers and is putting on a shirt in the dressing room when Naoto pokes his head around, wearing nothing but his boxers.
“Naoki, I seem to have misplaced my towel. Can I borrow one from you before the rest finish their showers?” He sidles up to his co-leader with a grin, tugging at his sleeve for added effect.
“Ah, sure. Give me a moment.”
He turns around to pass him a clean towel, and Naoto’s on him in a flash, making him stumble back, slamming him into the wall. He opens his mouth in surprise, and Naoto shoves his tongue inside.
Naoki’s gasp is muffled. Naoto’s all over him, tearing his shirt off, pulling him down, pinning his shoulders, trapping his lips, thighs against his, bare torso against his. Crotch against his. The sensations are overwhelming, and for a brief moment, Naoki’s brain short circuits.
Naoto’s mouth is warm. Naoto’s lips are soft. Naoto is so, so attractive, but Naoki’s eyes are closed. He dares not look at the perfection that is Naoto. Naoto knows exactly what he’s doing; his lips shift, and his tongue tenderly explores Naoki’s mouth, sliding over the roof and his teeth, tentatively pressing at Naoki’s tongue. Just as hesitantly, Naoki lifts his tongue up, and then they’re wrapping around each other, slipping between their mouths and wrestling.
Naoto’s broad shoulders feel too good beneath Naoki’s fingers. His body rubs against him, skin to skin, generating delicious friction and heat. His hands caress the back of Naoki’s head, fingers threading through his hair.
Naoki’s running out of air, but he doesn’t want it to stop. When Naoto pulls back, he whimpers just a little. He’s breathing a little too heavily. Naoto’s cheeks are flushed, his breathing just as hard. His pupils are dilated, and the corners of his lips lift in a smile.
He reaches to his left. The towel. Naoki dropped it. Forgot about it. Naoto sits on his thighs, saying, “Thank you, Naoki.”
Too quick for the other to respond, Naoto leans in and hooks a finger beneath his chin, pulling him closer for a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Then he’s drawing back and getting up and sashaying out the door, and Naoki’s frozen solid with a burning need in him that he can’t explain.