Fic - Heel - 2/2 (+ Sakito fanart)
Title: Heel
Group: Nightmare
Pairing: Ruka x Sakito
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Mildly kinky smut. And shoes.
On to part two, in which Ruka will get what's coming to him XD
Plus fanart of Sakito looking hot...
Thank you for reading!
Sakito gives me a chiding look, but takes some of the weight off my stomach. I'm getting ready to breathe and sit up when he slides his foot down, past my belt buckle, tortuously slow and barely touching me; I freeze as the heel comes to rest over my crotch. Okay, that's not a safe sensation; I've taken slaps, scratches, punches from Sakito in the course of our twisted relationship, but this is too unnerving. And what's most troubling, I realise, is that I'm suddenly harder than I've ever been in my life.
“You are a sick puppy,” says Sakito, observing this with a superior raise of the eyebrows.
“Please.” I don't really care at this point how desperate I sound.
“Yes? What do you want?”
“You.”
Sakito allows a triumphant little smile to curl across his face, and flushes, just a bit. He lets his heel linger over my erection another few seconds, then deliberately lowers his foot to the floor between my legs. I wriggle out of there before he can change his mind and inflict some serious damage, and clamber to my knees. My entire body is burning with nervous desire, and when I slide my hands up his thighs it feels like I must be scorching him.
“Sakito...” I hate the way I say it, the worshipful tone, but he deserves it, looking like he does tonight. Believe me, I know how shallow that sounds, and I can't bring myself to care. Not now. I press my lips to the pale jewel piercing his navel, his hand holding the fabric aside so I can kiss my way down his stomach unimpeded. He's silent throughout, as if it's only his due.
I whisper to him under my breath, all the compliments and wistful endearments I'll never say out loud because that's just not how the two of us work. I can tell he's listening curiously, but that doesn't stop his shivers as my mouth brushes his skin. I'm low enough to reach denim now, and I can feel his hard-on through the fabric as I kiss it; my cock perks up even further. I increase the pressure of my lips.
“Ohh,” says Sakito, and trembles. I take a firm grip on his slender hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over his skin.
“Not trying to toot my own horn here,” I tell him, “but you might want to sit down.” I slide up his body until I'm standing pressed against him, his heat radiating into me. In the shoes he's as tall as me, maybe even an inch or so above me. He likes that, I can tell; well, it's how he usually sees himself in relation to me, mentally, morally, sexually.
“You're that good.” Sakito looks me straight in the eye, quietly thrilled that he doesn't have to tilt his head back to do it, if his expression of ineffable smugness is anything to go by.
“You know I am.” We could stand about all night like this, competing over who's the bigger man, but I'm dying to get my hands and my mouth on him before I go crazy (also, I know I'll lose). So before he can give me any more backtalk I scoop him up in my arms; he's so light it's almost no effort at all.
Sakito makes an indignant noise, but I can tell his ego doesn't really object to being carried about like a princess; his arms slide around my neck, and I whirl him round and deposit him back on the sofa. He's laughing a little, breathless. I tug the jeans down over his ass, and he shifts his hips obligingly.
“Let me take them off,” I murmur, noticing that he's thoughtfully gone without underwear for my convenience. Sakito pouts.
“They won't fit over the damn shoes.”
“Then they'll have to come off too.”
“Pain in my ass,” he mutters impatiently, as I unbuckle the fiddly ankle straps and work the shoes off his feet. He takes the opportunity to wiggle his pretty toes in relief while I finish removing his jeans, dropping his head down luxuriously against the sofa back.
“Mmm,” he purrs, relaxing his feet. Then, “Oi, what're you doing?” This, I assume, is in response to my grabbing his ankle and sliding him back into the shoes.
“It's my birthday.” This is my answer to everything tonight.
“...All right, you deviant,” sighs Sakito, and holds still. I run my hands slowly up his legs, pale and smooth as satin beneath my fingers, and grab his hips to tug him in towards me. The tight, gauzy fabric of his top rides up with the movement, baring his white thighs and proving beyond a doubt how hard I've made him despite all his complaining. For a moment I just feel proud that someone like me can do this to someone like Sakito; then arousal takes over and there's nothing left in my head except the desire to please him.
“Go on then!” he says, with a little note of frustration I rarely get to hear because I've been trained to give him whatever he wants as soon as he wants it. I don't need telling twice. I sink my head between his legs, dropping kisses along the fine, easily bruised skin of his inner thighs, and the next thing I feel is his hand twining in my hair and urging me upwards, none too gently.
Sakito's cock is as beautifully proportioned as the rest of him, and even when I'm feeling so resentful that I want to throttle him I'll never refuse the opportunity to play with it. And I'm not about to start tonight. I glide my fingers teasingly up his length, catch his sharp inhalation of breath, then kiss the tip, my tongue flicking out to taste him. His hand tightens in my hair and I wince; it's a plea and a warning all at once, and as I pause his leg shifts closer and I feel a sharp heel drag threateningly along my ribs. I flinch away, a ripple of excitement washing over me.
“Ruka,” orders Sakito breathlessly, and I obey with alacrity, closing my mouth over the head of his cock and easing myself forward until he's touching the back of my throat. His entire body stiffens and I let my tongue go to work as I pull back. I chance a quick look up at him and see his eyes have dropped closed; his exquisite face is a model of concentration as he focuses on the sensations, so I start to move my fingers in tandem with my mouth, just to see each shift in expression.
Soon he's moaning through closed lips, as if he's afraid of what he might say if he opens his mouth. I've got one of his slim legs hooked over my shoulder to give myself better access, while the other is pressed close to me, the flesh of his creamy thigh soft and yielding against my neck. I'm as hard as he is, not because I'm getting any physical stimulation but because the mere thought of what I'm being allowed to do is dizzying; and because, dismaying though it may be, pleasing my master has become almost a reward in itself.
Sakito is breathing harder now, forgetting to look superior; his fingers have left off their painful grip on my hair and are clinging to the sofa upholstery beside his head, as though the pleasure is enough to tear him away from gravity and he has to hold on to stop himself spinning out of control. Which is gratifying. I reward him with more forceful stimulation, my tongue stiffening to work across the base of his cock. He's getting close now, and I waste several seconds wondering whether I should let him have his fun or keep him balanced tortuously on the edge. But a satisfied Sakito tends to be more pliable, especially if I'm hoping he'll do me a favour afterwards.
I increase the speed and the depth simultaneously, and hear him give an urgent gasp above me. Nearly there. Not letting up, I squeeze his balls lightly in one hand, sliding the other across the curve of his ass to slip a finger inside him, and he can't help but cry out as I push deeper, caught as he is on both sides.
“Ahh...Ruka, I...!” It's nice to hear him so incoherent, and even nicer when he comes, because to me it's the only time he really feels helpless, his muscles rigid and trembling with pleasure. I drink him down, wringing every last drop from him, and his amazed whimper makes me grin to myself. It's partly a thank-you, seeing as he's already given me the best present of my life; and partly to make sure he remembers this: that just for a moment he was at my mercy.
“Holy fuck,” pants Sakito, when I finally let him go. “That was...” He trails off, clearly not wanting to praise me too highly. I give one shapely buttock a firm squeeze to let him know I get it, and lick my lips. I love the taste of him.
At last I look up, and give a covert sigh; if I'd expected the warm aftermath of sex to make him look any more ordinary, I was wrong, because he's still so beautiful it almost seems alien, that flushed face cool and poised once more. Everything about him is a shimmering miasma of silver and blue, from his gleaming nails to the necklace sparkling in the hollow of his throat. Under the room's dim lights he looks like the night itself. I find myself gazing up silently, wearing what I imagine is a moonstruck expression of sheer admiration. For almost a minute neither of us move, and that feels like a damn long time when you're waiting for the usual insult or chilly look of disdain. At last he leans towards me, and still I'm waiting for it.
“Happy birthday,” says Sakito, and kisses me, hands cradling my face.
He starts to pull away, and I'm so surprised I almost let him, because it's a rare day that he'll kiss me and even rarer that he'll be sweet about it. I stretch up towards him in the nick of time, capturing his lips again, and he makes no complaint, just opens his mouth and lets my tongue brush his. When he wants to he can kiss as delicately as he moves, and he tilts his head to accommodate me, thumbs brushing my cheekbones as his legs curl around my waist.
“You taste like me,” he murmurs, amused, and I crush him to me, so turned on now I think I could come just from the press of his body against my cock. Sakito evidently feels no such urgency himself, having already gotten off, and I feel him smile against my lips at my ardour.
“I want you!” I exclaim, tugging him harder against me so there's no conceivable way he can miss the fact that I have a massive erection. Sakito removes one hand from my face and slides it deliberately down my body and into my jeans, then raises his eyebrows calmly as if to say 'oh yes, so you do'.
“What's the magic word?” he says. His fingers curl around my cock. I gasp against his neck, and he smiles angelically, rubbing his thumb teasingly back and forth over the slit.
“Please,” I whisper, kissing the pretty moles at the base of his throat.
“What was that?” His nails are trailing across the nape of my neck. I groan into his skin.
“Please!”
“That's better,” says Sakito, disentangling himself just enough that he can grab onto my belt loops and manhandle me onto the sofa beside him. He crawls into my lap, fingers already on my shirt buttons; I help him remove the offending garment as best I can, though it's hard because I don't want to leave off touching him.
“Come on,” I breathe. He's kissing my neck, my shoulder, his hair falling soft and shiny against my chest, and it tickles but somehow that just seems to make me even hornier.
“Patience,” Sakito informs me as his clever fingers unbutton my jeans to the sound of my excited breathing, “is a virtue.” I huff sceptically, and he leans down to rummage among the sofa cushions, emerging with a tube of very expensive lube; nothing but the best for Sakito. It has a bow on it.
“What a thoughtful gift.”
Sakito grins at my efforts to sound deadpan, and kisses me again. If you've never felt it...well, there's nothing like it: his mouth is shaped so precisely, so delicately, it looks like there's no way it could kiss with such voluptuous abandon, all heat and desperation. But it does.
He's so good, in fact, that it almost distracts me from the fact that I need to fuck him, and pronto, before my orgasm is wasted on his teasing hand. Eventually I remember where all this was heading; I fumble the top off the lube, coating the fingers of one hand while the other slides the tight fabric of his top up and over his perfect ass to keep it out of the way.
I push two fingers into him without preamble, and he's ready for it; he lets out a soft little whine and drops his gaze, grey and silver shadows adorning his eyelids, and his arms slide around my back. I give him a minute to get used to that, then add another, as deep as I can go, splaying my fingers inside him to open him up; Sakito likes it when I'm rough, true, but I don't want to damage him. Well, not right now, anyway. He shifts his hips cautiously as I fuck him, forehead resting against my shoulder, his breathing tremulous and happy. His nails dig into my back, and the pain is sweet.
“Ready,” says Sakito in a hushed voice; he's still tight around my fingers, but I guess he knows best. He presses himself against me, and I can feel he's getting hard again.
“...You're sure.” He doesn't bother with an answer to that, just twists me in his arms and pushes me down on my back; my head hits the arm of the sofa with a thud. I should have known better than to expect to be allowed on top tonight.
“If these shoes make holes in my upholstery,” Sakito tells me romantically, “you're paying.” I nod, which doesn't mean much; I think I'd give the nod to anything he suggests right now, up to and including grand theft auto, because he's suddenly poised above me, my erection in his hand as if it's his personal plaything, so astonishingly beautiful he doesn't look real. He eases himself down on my cock, and I forget about all the things that are wrong between us, all the times he's been an utter manipulative bastard, because I feel...oh, I just feel.
He bites his lip as I fill him, and I reach up to clasp his waist and balance him while he gets used to it. His hands cover mine briefly, gratefully; then he begins to move.
“More!” I growl selfishly, fingers biting into his thighs to encourage him; he's going so slowly, and I know it's because he likes to frustrate me.
“Calm...the hell down!” breathes Sakito bossily, wincing a little and batting at my hands as I push my way deeper thoughtlessly. I obligingly remove the offending fingers and run them lightly up his ribcage to attack his nipples. Sakito gives a pleased, irritated groan as I pinch at them, rolling the tender flesh between my fingers until they're deep pink and bruising beneath the sheer fabric, until he's so distracted that he starts to lose his rhythm.
“...Stop it!” he says, backing up the command with a painful tug at my hair. I do as I'm told and grasp his slim hips instead, blue gauze and smooth skin warm beneath my hands as I help steady him and get him back on course. Once he's recovered himself he looks perfectly in control again, registering my short snarls of pleasure with smug satisfaction.
“Saki...” I gulp, “I think I'm gonna...!”
“Don't you dare,” he snaps, as if I can turn myself off at the press of a button. And, sorry to say, I'm so obedient that I don't, though if my dick could talk it would be screaming blue murder right now at this cruel and unusual curtailment of its natural urges.
Sakito braces one hand on the sofa arm above me and rides me harder, head dipping with effort so the fragrant waves of his hair tumble against my cheek.
“Ahhh...Ruka...!” It's not like him to say how he feels, but the expression of pleasure on his flushed, beautiful face is intensely gratifying, and even though I'm incapable of replying at this point I let my hand slide up his spine to tangle in his hair and pull him down to kiss me. He allows it, not stopping the movement of his slender hips, and I have to stifle a full-body shudder of delight as he moans against my lips and drives one heel convulsively into my calf in a determined attempt to get more purchase. The spikes of his ankle straps stab into my flesh, and I'm going to be punched full of more holes than a sieve by the end of this but I don't care, I just grab his ass and drag him down further onto my cock.
“Fuck...!” Sakito grits his teeth and throws his head back, jewellery forming dancing arcs of light at the sudden motion, but this time he doesn't try to stop me, which is just as well because I think I'm actually in pain now from trying to hold back my climax. His glittering nails dig into the sensitive skin of my stomach and I have to suppress a yelp; I retaliate by doing my best to fuck him even harder (it's not exactly revenge because he loves it like this, but it makes me feel better), until his perfect little ass is wedged down securely against my hipbones with each stroke.
I hear Sakito make a faint sound that sends a thrill of triumph through me; I hear it so rarely that it's become like gold dust to me: it means he's losing control. His heel scrapes another strip of skin away on its journey down my leg, and god damn it hurts but it doesn't matter, because all of a sudden he's coming, making that angelic face that tells me he's finally given himself up to pure, straightforward pleasure, leaving my scratched stomach damp and sticky.
I wouldn't put it past him to skip off and leave me hanging now he's got what he wants, so I grasp his ass with both hands to make sure he can't go anywhere, and carry on. Sakito's expression wavers between bliss and a kind of sweet anxiety as I continue to ravish (well, sort of) his now hyper-sensitive body, and it makes a lovely change from the controlled look of superiority I usually get thrown at me. Now, I think, as I quicken the pace even more, now is the time to make up for all the occasions he's lorded it over me because I came before him.
“Ruka...” says Sakito in a pleasingly tremulous whisper, “come on...!”
“Say please!” I manage, through clenched teeth. Sakito leans down, biting his lip again as the angle changes, and presses his mouth ardently against mine.
“...No.” He kisses me again, a silent appeal. I know it's the closest thing to begging I'll ever get from him, and his lips are taking me perilously close to the edge. I stifle a low moan, unable to stop myself moving. “Let go,” murmurs Sakito, in the space between our breaths and the brush of our mouths.
And I do, white heat behind my eyes and crackling through my body as I come; I hear Sakito whimper faintly at the feeling, then give a soft sigh of satisfaction, his pliant frame sliding exhaustedly across mine to relax right on top of me. It's a good thing he's so light. I can feel his heart racing against me; one hand slides up to clasp my neck and he buries his face in my sternum, his breathing deep and laboured and matching my own. It feels...good, this rare moment of unity, even if it is all at the level of animal physicality and nothing to do with a meeting of minds.
“Saki...” I murmur, in an unguarded excess of feeling, and slide my hands around his tiny waist to the small of his back. He's completely relaxed in my arms, none of the wary tension of our usual encounters, and doesn't complain when I tip him over onto his side so I can get a full lungful of air. “That,” I say, once I've drawn a few good breaths, “was...” I can't think of the adjectives to do it justice, but then my brain isn't exactly functioning at full capacity right now.
“I know,” says Sakito quietly, his lips against my collarbone. He raises his head indolently and fixes me with a soft, complicated gaze. “Once a year, Ruka. You can play this kinky little game with me once a year. Okay?”
I reflect dourly that if I can put up with another year of painful sexual encounters as they normally occur between the two of us then I might as well convert and get nominated for sainthood. My expression must show exactly what I'm thinking, because he gives me a pessimistic smile and shrugs, bending his graceful neck to kiss my shoulder, a casual, consoling touch.
“Well,” I say, taking a covert whiff of his fragrant hair, “it's been a memorable day.”
“Quite so.” Sakito moves his silky leg lazily against mine, and again his heel sends exhausted stabs of pleasure all the way to my libido.
“You can keep the shoes,” I offer generously; I imagine he knows by now that he can cause enough pain with them to make it worth his while hanging on to them (here's hoping, anyway).
“Thanks a bunch. So...what do I get for my birthday?” he demands, propping himself up on his elbow as I stroke his smooth back beneath what remains of his clothing.
“What do you get the man who has everything?”
For a moment Sakito's gaze slips sideways and turns dark and odd, hungry, but I might well have imagined it because when I blink and look again his eyes are as cool and confident as ever.
“I'll think of something.”
“I won't like it, will I.” Stupid question, seeing as the things I don't like about my relationship with Sakito outweigh the things I do by about twenty to one. But it can't hurt to brace myself in advance.
“Ruka,” he says sweetly (always a worry), one slender hand shifting into my hair. “Stay.” I look at him narrowly, because if this is another offensive dog-training command I may well have to start biting. “I mean stay,” he tells me, and gestures to the darkness that leads to his bedroom. “With me.”
It would be a very sensible thing, right now, to say 'no thanks' and be on my way with nothing but good memories of this night and with my body and ego relatively unscathed. But when has sensible ever had anything to do with Sakito and the things we do together? I look at him, rosy and glowing with predatory, satisfied beauty, and I can see he already knows how I'll answer. It's too much; he's too much. I give in.
“...Yes.”
********
So there you have it. Hope you enjoyed it! I know, it has no plot at all ^^;
Iron Fist is a real shoe brand, btw, and they are hot. I swear, just looking at them on eBay is like porn XD
I procrastinated with this fic for ages, but was inspired to finish it by going to the Fan Club Live at Nagoya E.L.L last night, where Saki looked so fine it was just ridiculous (even though he complained that he's getting fat, ahahaha *sarcastic laughter*). His hair is really long now, with blonde streaks. It was an awesome live, a really small livehouse and lots of fanservice from Yomi/Hitsu/Saki ^^
This is my artist impression of his costume so far as I can remember it (it's new and couldn't find any photos); he says it reminds him of Princess Jasmine from Aladdin, probably 'cos of the harem pants and perfect stomach :)
Well, thank you for reading! More to come...er, sometime.
Group: Nightmare
Pairing: Ruka x Sakito
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Mildly kinky smut. And shoes.
On to part two, in which Ruka will get what's coming to him XD
Plus fanart of Sakito looking hot...
Thank you for reading!
Sakito gives me a chiding look, but takes some of the weight off my stomach. I'm getting ready to breathe and sit up when he slides his foot down, past my belt buckle, tortuously slow and barely touching me; I freeze as the heel comes to rest over my crotch. Okay, that's not a safe sensation; I've taken slaps, scratches, punches from Sakito in the course of our twisted relationship, but this is too unnerving. And what's most troubling, I realise, is that I'm suddenly harder than I've ever been in my life.
“You are a sick puppy,” says Sakito, observing this with a superior raise of the eyebrows.
“Please.” I don't really care at this point how desperate I sound.
“Yes? What do you want?”
“You.”
Sakito allows a triumphant little smile to curl across his face, and flushes, just a bit. He lets his heel linger over my erection another few seconds, then deliberately lowers his foot to the floor between my legs. I wriggle out of there before he can change his mind and inflict some serious damage, and clamber to my knees. My entire body is burning with nervous desire, and when I slide my hands up his thighs it feels like I must be scorching him.
“Sakito...” I hate the way I say it, the worshipful tone, but he deserves it, looking like he does tonight. Believe me, I know how shallow that sounds, and I can't bring myself to care. Not now. I press my lips to the pale jewel piercing his navel, his hand holding the fabric aside so I can kiss my way down his stomach unimpeded. He's silent throughout, as if it's only his due.
I whisper to him under my breath, all the compliments and wistful endearments I'll never say out loud because that's just not how the two of us work. I can tell he's listening curiously, but that doesn't stop his shivers as my mouth brushes his skin. I'm low enough to reach denim now, and I can feel his hard-on through the fabric as I kiss it; my cock perks up even further. I increase the pressure of my lips.
“Ohh,” says Sakito, and trembles. I take a firm grip on his slender hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over his skin.
“Not trying to toot my own horn here,” I tell him, “but you might want to sit down.” I slide up his body until I'm standing pressed against him, his heat radiating into me. In the shoes he's as tall as me, maybe even an inch or so above me. He likes that, I can tell; well, it's how he usually sees himself in relation to me, mentally, morally, sexually.
“You're that good.” Sakito looks me straight in the eye, quietly thrilled that he doesn't have to tilt his head back to do it, if his expression of ineffable smugness is anything to go by.
“You know I am.” We could stand about all night like this, competing over who's the bigger man, but I'm dying to get my hands and my mouth on him before I go crazy (also, I know I'll lose). So before he can give me any more backtalk I scoop him up in my arms; he's so light it's almost no effort at all.
Sakito makes an indignant noise, but I can tell his ego doesn't really object to being carried about like a princess; his arms slide around my neck, and I whirl him round and deposit him back on the sofa. He's laughing a little, breathless. I tug the jeans down over his ass, and he shifts his hips obligingly.
“Let me take them off,” I murmur, noticing that he's thoughtfully gone without underwear for my convenience. Sakito pouts.
“They won't fit over the damn shoes.”
“Then they'll have to come off too.”
“Pain in my ass,” he mutters impatiently, as I unbuckle the fiddly ankle straps and work the shoes off his feet. He takes the opportunity to wiggle his pretty toes in relief while I finish removing his jeans, dropping his head down luxuriously against the sofa back.
“Mmm,” he purrs, relaxing his feet. Then, “Oi, what're you doing?” This, I assume, is in response to my grabbing his ankle and sliding him back into the shoes.
“It's my birthday.” This is my answer to everything tonight.
“...All right, you deviant,” sighs Sakito, and holds still. I run my hands slowly up his legs, pale and smooth as satin beneath my fingers, and grab his hips to tug him in towards me. The tight, gauzy fabric of his top rides up with the movement, baring his white thighs and proving beyond a doubt how hard I've made him despite all his complaining. For a moment I just feel proud that someone like me can do this to someone like Sakito; then arousal takes over and there's nothing left in my head except the desire to please him.
“Go on then!” he says, with a little note of frustration I rarely get to hear because I've been trained to give him whatever he wants as soon as he wants it. I don't need telling twice. I sink my head between his legs, dropping kisses along the fine, easily bruised skin of his inner thighs, and the next thing I feel is his hand twining in my hair and urging me upwards, none too gently.
Sakito's cock is as beautifully proportioned as the rest of him, and even when I'm feeling so resentful that I want to throttle him I'll never refuse the opportunity to play with it. And I'm not about to start tonight. I glide my fingers teasingly up his length, catch his sharp inhalation of breath, then kiss the tip, my tongue flicking out to taste him. His hand tightens in my hair and I wince; it's a plea and a warning all at once, and as I pause his leg shifts closer and I feel a sharp heel drag threateningly along my ribs. I flinch away, a ripple of excitement washing over me.
“Ruka,” orders Sakito breathlessly, and I obey with alacrity, closing my mouth over the head of his cock and easing myself forward until he's touching the back of my throat. His entire body stiffens and I let my tongue go to work as I pull back. I chance a quick look up at him and see his eyes have dropped closed; his exquisite face is a model of concentration as he focuses on the sensations, so I start to move my fingers in tandem with my mouth, just to see each shift in expression.
Soon he's moaning through closed lips, as if he's afraid of what he might say if he opens his mouth. I've got one of his slim legs hooked over my shoulder to give myself better access, while the other is pressed close to me, the flesh of his creamy thigh soft and yielding against my neck. I'm as hard as he is, not because I'm getting any physical stimulation but because the mere thought of what I'm being allowed to do is dizzying; and because, dismaying though it may be, pleasing my master has become almost a reward in itself.
Sakito is breathing harder now, forgetting to look superior; his fingers have left off their painful grip on my hair and are clinging to the sofa upholstery beside his head, as though the pleasure is enough to tear him away from gravity and he has to hold on to stop himself spinning out of control. Which is gratifying. I reward him with more forceful stimulation, my tongue stiffening to work across the base of his cock. He's getting close now, and I waste several seconds wondering whether I should let him have his fun or keep him balanced tortuously on the edge. But a satisfied Sakito tends to be more pliable, especially if I'm hoping he'll do me a favour afterwards.
I increase the speed and the depth simultaneously, and hear him give an urgent gasp above me. Nearly there. Not letting up, I squeeze his balls lightly in one hand, sliding the other across the curve of his ass to slip a finger inside him, and he can't help but cry out as I push deeper, caught as he is on both sides.
“Ahh...Ruka, I...!” It's nice to hear him so incoherent, and even nicer when he comes, because to me it's the only time he really feels helpless, his muscles rigid and trembling with pleasure. I drink him down, wringing every last drop from him, and his amazed whimper makes me grin to myself. It's partly a thank-you, seeing as he's already given me the best present of my life; and partly to make sure he remembers this: that just for a moment he was at my mercy.
“Holy fuck,” pants Sakito, when I finally let him go. “That was...” He trails off, clearly not wanting to praise me too highly. I give one shapely buttock a firm squeeze to let him know I get it, and lick my lips. I love the taste of him.
At last I look up, and give a covert sigh; if I'd expected the warm aftermath of sex to make him look any more ordinary, I was wrong, because he's still so beautiful it almost seems alien, that flushed face cool and poised once more. Everything about him is a shimmering miasma of silver and blue, from his gleaming nails to the necklace sparkling in the hollow of his throat. Under the room's dim lights he looks like the night itself. I find myself gazing up silently, wearing what I imagine is a moonstruck expression of sheer admiration. For almost a minute neither of us move, and that feels like a damn long time when you're waiting for the usual insult or chilly look of disdain. At last he leans towards me, and still I'm waiting for it.
“Happy birthday,” says Sakito, and kisses me, hands cradling my face.
He starts to pull away, and I'm so surprised I almost let him, because it's a rare day that he'll kiss me and even rarer that he'll be sweet about it. I stretch up towards him in the nick of time, capturing his lips again, and he makes no complaint, just opens his mouth and lets my tongue brush his. When he wants to he can kiss as delicately as he moves, and he tilts his head to accommodate me, thumbs brushing my cheekbones as his legs curl around my waist.
“You taste like me,” he murmurs, amused, and I crush him to me, so turned on now I think I could come just from the press of his body against my cock. Sakito evidently feels no such urgency himself, having already gotten off, and I feel him smile against my lips at my ardour.
“I want you!” I exclaim, tugging him harder against me so there's no conceivable way he can miss the fact that I have a massive erection. Sakito removes one hand from my face and slides it deliberately down my body and into my jeans, then raises his eyebrows calmly as if to say 'oh yes, so you do'.
“What's the magic word?” he says. His fingers curl around my cock. I gasp against his neck, and he smiles angelically, rubbing his thumb teasingly back and forth over the slit.
“Please,” I whisper, kissing the pretty moles at the base of his throat.
“What was that?” His nails are trailing across the nape of my neck. I groan into his skin.
“Please!”
“That's better,” says Sakito, disentangling himself just enough that he can grab onto my belt loops and manhandle me onto the sofa beside him. He crawls into my lap, fingers already on my shirt buttons; I help him remove the offending garment as best I can, though it's hard because I don't want to leave off touching him.
“Come on,” I breathe. He's kissing my neck, my shoulder, his hair falling soft and shiny against my chest, and it tickles but somehow that just seems to make me even hornier.
“Patience,” Sakito informs me as his clever fingers unbutton my jeans to the sound of my excited breathing, “is a virtue.” I huff sceptically, and he leans down to rummage among the sofa cushions, emerging with a tube of very expensive lube; nothing but the best for Sakito. It has a bow on it.
“What a thoughtful gift.”
Sakito grins at my efforts to sound deadpan, and kisses me again. If you've never felt it...well, there's nothing like it: his mouth is shaped so precisely, so delicately, it looks like there's no way it could kiss with such voluptuous abandon, all heat and desperation. But it does.
He's so good, in fact, that it almost distracts me from the fact that I need to fuck him, and pronto, before my orgasm is wasted on his teasing hand. Eventually I remember where all this was heading; I fumble the top off the lube, coating the fingers of one hand while the other slides the tight fabric of his top up and over his perfect ass to keep it out of the way.
I push two fingers into him without preamble, and he's ready for it; he lets out a soft little whine and drops his gaze, grey and silver shadows adorning his eyelids, and his arms slide around my back. I give him a minute to get used to that, then add another, as deep as I can go, splaying my fingers inside him to open him up; Sakito likes it when I'm rough, true, but I don't want to damage him. Well, not right now, anyway. He shifts his hips cautiously as I fuck him, forehead resting against my shoulder, his breathing tremulous and happy. His nails dig into my back, and the pain is sweet.
“Ready,” says Sakito in a hushed voice; he's still tight around my fingers, but I guess he knows best. He presses himself against me, and I can feel he's getting hard again.
“...You're sure.” He doesn't bother with an answer to that, just twists me in his arms and pushes me down on my back; my head hits the arm of the sofa with a thud. I should have known better than to expect to be allowed on top tonight.
“If these shoes make holes in my upholstery,” Sakito tells me romantically, “you're paying.” I nod, which doesn't mean much; I think I'd give the nod to anything he suggests right now, up to and including grand theft auto, because he's suddenly poised above me, my erection in his hand as if it's his personal plaything, so astonishingly beautiful he doesn't look real. He eases himself down on my cock, and I forget about all the things that are wrong between us, all the times he's been an utter manipulative bastard, because I feel...oh, I just feel.
He bites his lip as I fill him, and I reach up to clasp his waist and balance him while he gets used to it. His hands cover mine briefly, gratefully; then he begins to move.
“More!” I growl selfishly, fingers biting into his thighs to encourage him; he's going so slowly, and I know it's because he likes to frustrate me.
“Calm...the hell down!” breathes Sakito bossily, wincing a little and batting at my hands as I push my way deeper thoughtlessly. I obligingly remove the offending fingers and run them lightly up his ribcage to attack his nipples. Sakito gives a pleased, irritated groan as I pinch at them, rolling the tender flesh between my fingers until they're deep pink and bruising beneath the sheer fabric, until he's so distracted that he starts to lose his rhythm.
“...Stop it!” he says, backing up the command with a painful tug at my hair. I do as I'm told and grasp his slim hips instead, blue gauze and smooth skin warm beneath my hands as I help steady him and get him back on course. Once he's recovered himself he looks perfectly in control again, registering my short snarls of pleasure with smug satisfaction.
“Saki...” I gulp, “I think I'm gonna...!”
“Don't you dare,” he snaps, as if I can turn myself off at the press of a button. And, sorry to say, I'm so obedient that I don't, though if my dick could talk it would be screaming blue murder right now at this cruel and unusual curtailment of its natural urges.
Sakito braces one hand on the sofa arm above me and rides me harder, head dipping with effort so the fragrant waves of his hair tumble against my cheek.
“Ahhh...Ruka...!” It's not like him to say how he feels, but the expression of pleasure on his flushed, beautiful face is intensely gratifying, and even though I'm incapable of replying at this point I let my hand slide up his spine to tangle in his hair and pull him down to kiss me. He allows it, not stopping the movement of his slender hips, and I have to stifle a full-body shudder of delight as he moans against my lips and drives one heel convulsively into my calf in a determined attempt to get more purchase. The spikes of his ankle straps stab into my flesh, and I'm going to be punched full of more holes than a sieve by the end of this but I don't care, I just grab his ass and drag him down further onto my cock.
“Fuck...!” Sakito grits his teeth and throws his head back, jewellery forming dancing arcs of light at the sudden motion, but this time he doesn't try to stop me, which is just as well because I think I'm actually in pain now from trying to hold back my climax. His glittering nails dig into the sensitive skin of my stomach and I have to suppress a yelp; I retaliate by doing my best to fuck him even harder (it's not exactly revenge because he loves it like this, but it makes me feel better), until his perfect little ass is wedged down securely against my hipbones with each stroke.
I hear Sakito make a faint sound that sends a thrill of triumph through me; I hear it so rarely that it's become like gold dust to me: it means he's losing control. His heel scrapes another strip of skin away on its journey down my leg, and god damn it hurts but it doesn't matter, because all of a sudden he's coming, making that angelic face that tells me he's finally given himself up to pure, straightforward pleasure, leaving my scratched stomach damp and sticky.
I wouldn't put it past him to skip off and leave me hanging now he's got what he wants, so I grasp his ass with both hands to make sure he can't go anywhere, and carry on. Sakito's expression wavers between bliss and a kind of sweet anxiety as I continue to ravish (well, sort of) his now hyper-sensitive body, and it makes a lovely change from the controlled look of superiority I usually get thrown at me. Now, I think, as I quicken the pace even more, now is the time to make up for all the occasions he's lorded it over me because I came before him.
“Ruka...” says Sakito in a pleasingly tremulous whisper, “come on...!”
“Say please!” I manage, through clenched teeth. Sakito leans down, biting his lip again as the angle changes, and presses his mouth ardently against mine.
“...No.” He kisses me again, a silent appeal. I know it's the closest thing to begging I'll ever get from him, and his lips are taking me perilously close to the edge. I stifle a low moan, unable to stop myself moving. “Let go,” murmurs Sakito, in the space between our breaths and the brush of our mouths.
And I do, white heat behind my eyes and crackling through my body as I come; I hear Sakito whimper faintly at the feeling, then give a soft sigh of satisfaction, his pliant frame sliding exhaustedly across mine to relax right on top of me. It's a good thing he's so light. I can feel his heart racing against me; one hand slides up to clasp my neck and he buries his face in my sternum, his breathing deep and laboured and matching my own. It feels...good, this rare moment of unity, even if it is all at the level of animal physicality and nothing to do with a meeting of minds.
“Saki...” I murmur, in an unguarded excess of feeling, and slide my hands around his tiny waist to the small of his back. He's completely relaxed in my arms, none of the wary tension of our usual encounters, and doesn't complain when I tip him over onto his side so I can get a full lungful of air. “That,” I say, once I've drawn a few good breaths, “was...” I can't think of the adjectives to do it justice, but then my brain isn't exactly functioning at full capacity right now.
“I know,” says Sakito quietly, his lips against my collarbone. He raises his head indolently and fixes me with a soft, complicated gaze. “Once a year, Ruka. You can play this kinky little game with me once a year. Okay?”
I reflect dourly that if I can put up with another year of painful sexual encounters as they normally occur between the two of us then I might as well convert and get nominated for sainthood. My expression must show exactly what I'm thinking, because he gives me a pessimistic smile and shrugs, bending his graceful neck to kiss my shoulder, a casual, consoling touch.
“Well,” I say, taking a covert whiff of his fragrant hair, “it's been a memorable day.”
“Quite so.” Sakito moves his silky leg lazily against mine, and again his heel sends exhausted stabs of pleasure all the way to my libido.
“You can keep the shoes,” I offer generously; I imagine he knows by now that he can cause enough pain with them to make it worth his while hanging on to them (here's hoping, anyway).
“Thanks a bunch. So...what do I get for my birthday?” he demands, propping himself up on his elbow as I stroke his smooth back beneath what remains of his clothing.
“What do you get the man who has everything?”
For a moment Sakito's gaze slips sideways and turns dark and odd, hungry, but I might well have imagined it because when I blink and look again his eyes are as cool and confident as ever.
“I'll think of something.”
“I won't like it, will I.” Stupid question, seeing as the things I don't like about my relationship with Sakito outweigh the things I do by about twenty to one. But it can't hurt to brace myself in advance.
“Ruka,” he says sweetly (always a worry), one slender hand shifting into my hair. “Stay.” I look at him narrowly, because if this is another offensive dog-training command I may well have to start biting. “I mean stay,” he tells me, and gestures to the darkness that leads to his bedroom. “With me.”
It would be a very sensible thing, right now, to say 'no thanks' and be on my way with nothing but good memories of this night and with my body and ego relatively unscathed. But when has sensible ever had anything to do with Sakito and the things we do together? I look at him, rosy and glowing with predatory, satisfied beauty, and I can see he already knows how I'll answer. It's too much; he's too much. I give in.
“...Yes.”
********
So there you have it. Hope you enjoyed it! I know, it has no plot at all ^^;
Iron Fist is a real shoe brand, btw, and they are hot. I swear, just looking at them on eBay is like porn XD
I procrastinated with this fic for ages, but was inspired to finish it by going to the Fan Club Live at Nagoya E.L.L last night, where Saki looked so fine it was just ridiculous (even though he complained that he's getting fat, ahahaha *sarcastic laughter*). His hair is really long now, with blonde streaks. It was an awesome live, a really small livehouse and lots of fanservice from Yomi/Hitsu/Saki ^^
This is my artist impression of his costume so far as I can remember it (it's new and couldn't find any photos); he says it reminds him of Princess Jasmine from Aladdin, probably 'cos of the harem pants and perfect stomach :)
Well, thank you for reading! More to come...er, sometime.