7 - Just Another Rainy Morning
Title: Just Another Rainy Morning
Author: chokingsmoker
Rating: NC - 17
Disclaimer: Not for profit. Fiction.
Pairing: Yama (Ohno Satoshi and Sakurai Sho)
Word Count: 1,794
Summary: Satoshi and Sakurai spend a rainy morning together. That’s it. Plot? What’s that? :P
Just Another Rainy Morning
Sho feels the cool light breeze caress his cheek as he wakes up to the tap-tap-tap of light steady rain. He yawns sleepily, then, sensing the calm breathing of the man beside him, looks up at his bedmate. He sees a half-awake, rumpled-haired Satoshi and lightly nuzzles the older man’s shoulder. Satoshi, curved along the taller man’s spine, slowly grins at him and drops a peck at the top of his head.
Sho looks at the bedside clock and shakes off the first stirrings of sadness. He struggles to keep his head blank, to not think about his busy day ahead, but knows that life will catch up with them sometime soon. If only they didn’t have to work later, he complains inwardly. It would’ve been wonderful to curl up under the sheets with his lover, to heat up some soup and sip it as they watch their concert DVDs. Instead, he will be driving to different work locations and weaving his way through the traffic, missing his Satoshi. He closes his eyes, his mind filling with images of pavements splattered with water and umbrellas dotting the roads.
Chill, Sho tells himself, think of happy thoughts; and he starts with the memory of how cute Satoshi was when they tiptoed to Sho’s room at two in the morning. As if guessing what’s on Sho’s mind, the older man wraps his lean arms around his partner, who finally smiles, and pushes himself against the shorter man’s chest.
Satoshi embraces his partner tightly for a few seconds, disentangles himself from the taller man, stretches and tries to get up, much to Sho’s disbelief. The younger man turns around and pins his lover with a leg, murmuring it’s too early. Satoshi doesn’t put up a fight and stays, pressing himself against his partner’s side. Sho sighs, wanting nothing more than to linger in bed just a little more.
They lie together, not speaking, listening to the early morning sounds, burrowing their boxer-clad bodies deeper into the covers. Sho gently rubs the soles of his feet on Satoshi’s legs, feeling the hairs tickle him while Satoshi runs his beautiful fingers in the younger man’s hair. Sho lies on his back and Satoshi begins to trace patterns on his lover’s sensitive neck. Sho shivers, looking up to see Satoshi gazing at him with such intensity that all thoughts fly out of his head. Sho swallows audibly.
The alarm goes off. They snap out of their daze and quickly prepare for work. Satoshi scampers to the bathroom as Sho opens his closet for a shirt and a towel to lend his Leader and for suitable clothes for himself. If they didn’t have to hurry, Sho would’ve joined his lover for some pickupthesoap games but they are in a hurry, so he just resigns himself to brushing his teeth, idly thinking that he would have to buy a toothbrush for his partner; it wouldn’t do to have his beloved use a spare each time he sleeps over. Satoshi steps out of the shower and towels himself off, slapping Sho’s butt as he leans over for some cotton buds.
Sho twists the water valve, wets his hair first, then the rest of his body, thinking of his schedule for the day-Arashi taping until mid-afternoon, a production meeting for a drama special, a quick coffee meetup with a music arranger, and finally, a shoot for a documentary that may last until midnight. He mentally maps his route to and from each location as he soaps his feet, reminding himself to bring an extra umbrella, just in case.
Sho steps out of the bathroom, covering himself unnecessarily with a towel, and sees Satoshi, still in his boxers, put the hair dryer back on the dresser and flop back on the bed. Sho switches the dryer on, and ogles the shorter man’s reflection on the mirror.
Seduced by the sight of a relaxed reclining Satoshi, Sho checks the time and goes back to bed, too. He places himself in front of his lover, pulling Satoshi to him spoon fashion. The shorter man snuggles his face behind Sho’s ear and lazily asks if anyone would notice that they smell like each other, having used the same bath products. Sho chuckles in response, already envisioning Masaki sniffing them both, an Aha on their resident scientist’s lips.
Sho feels the soothing rhythm of Satoshi’s palms running up and down his abdomen and almost lets himself be pulled by the allure of sleep. But he notices the subtle change in mood, the urgency gradually seeping into Satoshi’s long elegant fingers. Sho shifts slightly, tilting his face towards the smaller man; and the air is gradually filled with the sounds of mouthsteethtongues grinding together - of lips gliding on soft lips, of teeth nibbling upper and lower lips, of outlines of mouths being licked, of tongues being sucked- transforming the room into nothing more than an echo of the textures and sensations of kissing. Neither of them hear the ringing of a mobile phone, nor the footsteps lingering by their door.
Satoshi slides his pink wet tongue inside Sho’s mouth, as Sho demandingly draws circular patterns on the older man’s skin. When he tries to remove his lover’s boxers, however, the taller man’s efforts are stopped, and his hands are pinned to his sides, as Satoshi slides his lips from Sho’s chin to neck. Sho growls helplessly.
Satoshi rubs his cheek against Sho’s before letting his mouth hover over the younger man’s collar bone and flicking his tongue at Sho’s nipples, biting at the buds delicately. Then Satoshi pulls himself back and stares deeply into Sho’s eyes before pushing the taller man almost roughly against the pillows.
The older man quickly stretches a hand to the bedside drawer, delves through the contents, forgoes the condom and gets the strawberry flavored lubricant by chance, applying some on himself and squeezing more drops on his hand. He then removes the towel around his partner’s hips impatiently, palming his lover’s erection. He encircles their penises with his exquisite fingers and strokes them together, thumbing the slits and running his thumbs around the heads. Sho can do nothing but moan and clutch at his beloved’s firm butt cheeks.
Satoshi, unsatisfied with the beat of their sliding bodies, hooks his lover’s legs over his shoulders. He grinds himself between the taller man’s thighs, clenching Sho’s cock in both hands. He deftly regulates the rocking of their bodies, until they know nothing else but to writhe in their burning need.
The pleasure of feeling his lover’s touch, of hearing his groans and seeing his facial expressions, and the added sensation of Satoshi’s cock rubbing against his balls, and Sho hears nothing but Satoshi’s breathing and the big fat raindrops striking the roof and his own needful cries, and he drowns in the fast, loud pulsebeats roaring all around his ears and finally, everything shatters-the splinters fly in all directions, stop in mid-air and slowly descend on the damp ground.
Limp, Sho barely registers the flurry of activity on top of him, and the short guttural shout after the world stops shaking.
And suddenly, something heavy and sweaty and sticky is sitting on top of him.
Satoshi grins at his lover, gasping, and reaches for some tissues. Sho, in-charge of his faculties again, grips his partner’s body, not wanting to let go.
Satoshi’s phone rings. Don’t pick it up, Sho murmurs, breathing heavily, hugging the older man. And Satoshi, being the amicable man that he is, doesn’t.
Purururu purururu Shimpuru shimpuru… It is Sho’s cellphone’s turn to start ringing, so with a sigh, Satoshi heaves himself off Sho and gives the mobile to the younger man. Sho sits up but doesn’t answer it yet, waiting at least for the ring tune to repeat at least four times, swaying his head in time with the jingle, before flipping his phone open, much to Satoshi’s delight.
It’s Jun, informing Sho that the taping has been canceled and can he please tell Ohno-kun because he’s not answering his cell?
Sho hangs up, grinning. A morning off with his Leader. What more could a growing Sho want?
Sho holds Satoshi close; they cuddle for a while, then, Satoshi’s stomach grumbles. Sho almost chortles, but the growling of his own stomach cuts him off. They laugh, not with the explosive mirth of people who find something extremely hilarious, but with the laughter of two happy people in bed on a rainy Friday morning.
Breakfast would be nice, Satoshi says. Sho agrees.
They both go downstairs. Everyone has left; even the help has gone to the market for groceries, says the note stuck to the refrigerator, but their breakfast was laid out on the table, still warm.
They bring coffee and newspapers and cigarettes and pancakes back to Sho’s room. Sho decides to play some music before changing his mind. They open the windows and sit by the table to listen to the amplified sound of raindrops but the rain abruptly stops. They look at each other in mock chagrin.
Satoshi makes a volcano of his pancakes and uses the syrup as overflowing lava before showing his creation to Sho, who, impressed with the food art, reaches for his phone and takes a picture.
Sho receives a message from his mother, reminding him to feed Satoshi. You boys are so thin, it’s a wonder you manage to stay alive. Sho snorts. Mothers, really.
They eat, Sho tells Satoshi to eat - he’s so thin it’s a wonder he manages to stay alive. Satoshi snorts. Mothers, really.
They talk-- about things important and mundane, about unbelievable everyday fables, until they refill their coffee cups, until they light their first cigarettes of the day. Until their conversation trickles to a very comfortable silence.
Sho opens his newspaper, and the smaller man unfurls the magazine he found in his bag. The younger man occasionally reads news bits he thinks Satoshi may find interesting aloud. Satoshi looks up from his fishing magazine every once in a while to flash a dazed grin at his lover.
Sho receives another message from another mother, Satoshi’s, asking him if he can come over some time for dinner. Sho shows the message to Satoshi, who looks at him in confusion. She sends a message to you and not to me, Satoshi’s expression seems to say. Sho just smiles and sends his happy reply, sipping his coffee in contentment.
He sees a particularly riveting news item and proceeds to read it aloud to the older man. He looks up expectantly and meets Satoshi’s suddenly piercing gaze over the broadsheet.
The table rocks. A magazine, a newspaper, and a cigarette pack are dropped unceremoniously to the floor, forgotten.
Outside, rain begins to fall.