Drabble batch #4
I'm sorry. These are random, and mostly dirty... Not that anyone is surprised by that, I'd wager.
TegoShige (PG-15)- "Haha, how to have an anti-climax with Tegoshi. XD" bananyphophany
Sleeping with Tegoshi is like tightrope walking. He likes a challenge but his competitive spirit complicates things. One slip to the wrong side and you either end up bottoming or empty-handed.
“Tegoshi,” Shige growled against the bathroom door. “I know what you’re doing in there. You get out here now.”
“No! I told you not to tease.” Shige told himself that the breathy quality to Tegoshi’s voice was just from being muffled by the door.
“You always say that. You were fine last night!” Silence, then a muted groan on the other side. “Fuck, Tegoshi.” In his mind he could see the man jerking himself to thoughts of Shige behind his closed eyes. “We can make that real,” he said, making his voice low.
Nothing. Then a high moan shuddering to completion.
Shige banged his head against the door in frustration.
Tegoshi opened the door and breezed past him a few minutes later, cheeks still flushed, to enter Shige’s bedroom. Shige turned to follow him hopefully, but, stopping just inside the door, Tegoshi faced him and said with a blinding smile, “I know you don't mind, thanks for taking the couch,” before shutting the door in his face.
“Hooker boots” (Technically G) Tegoshi, Shige, Koyama bananyphophany's Prompt #22
They all stared at the boots.
“Um,” Shige supplied helpfully.
“I think Tegoshi should wear them,” Koyama says. “He likes dressing like a girl and acting slutty anyway.”
Tegoshi looks a bit affronted. “I do not act slutty.”
Shige snorts.
“Anyway,” he goes on, glaring at Shige. “They’re too big for me. Koyama should wear them because he’s got the longest legs.”
Koyama splutters at him. “What? No!”
“No. He’s got a point.” Shige looks at Koyama’s legs contemplatively.
“And Shige would totally fall all over himself, anyway. You’d be saving him from definite injury.”
Shige wants to be angry but he just ends up sighing, deflated. “Yeah,” he agrees.
The rest of NewS hoots raucously and makes him do a runway walk for them, his face practically matching the fire-engine red of the thigh-high boots. Secretly, everyone wished Tegoshi had worn them, anyway, except Tegoshi who was rather pleased with himself all around.
Jumpin' the Gun Koyama-centric (R) - from Koyama's Member Love 500th special translated by foxhana
Q1. (Kyoto Prefecture . Chichon)
What is the first thing you do when you reach home? ★
A1.
After reaching home
Will take off necklace, watch, earrings, rings, and put them into a small box ★
Then, wash my hands, go to the kitchen, feed Nyanta
And after checking that Nyanta is eating the cat food, I will go for a bath
Because I can reset the me that is outside, and become the me at home so I will go for a bath first
Then.........
This question shall stop here
Koyama shuffles into his room, tiredly unclasping his necklace, slipping off rings and earrings and placing them in the small box on his dresser. He rubs his hand over his face and peers at his reflection, noting with distaste the bags under his eyes. Making his way out to the kitchen, he gets Nyanta’s cat food out and feeds him, crouching down and running his hands down the cat’s silky back as he eats. He loves the way Nyanta’s little body rumbles under his fingers and arches up to meet his touch and he smiles fondly at the cat. He stays that way a moment, lost in the sensation, before shaking himself a bit and going back to his room to get his things together for a bath.
A nice, long one, he decides. He’s earned it. He drinks a glass of water while he waits for the bath to fill and then clips his bangs up out of his face before slipping into the water, adjusting long legs and sliding down until he’s covered up to the neck. He soaks for a while, just enjoying the feeling of his body overheating in the humid room, before grabbing the bar of soap. He runs it over himself lazily, the slickness of it on his skin under the water feeling like a smooth, sleek tongue. He moves it slowly across his abs, trailing the fingers of his free hand along his sides, imagining the tickle of glossy black hair as it trails in the wake of the tongue. When he makes it up to his nipples, he can’t suppress a low moan or the movement that has his fingers pinching a nipple and twisting it slightly.
He forces himself to move slowly, drawing the bar back down his chest to rub down his legs and he shifts the angle enough that his nails scratch against his inner thighs just barely as he drags it up and then repeats it on the other leg. He’s glad he’s grown his nails a little longer; it makes it easier to imagine the nails as part of a smaller, more delicate hand than his own, tracing patterns against his flesh. His shoulders are tense and he consciously relaxes them, letting his head fall a little to the side and back as his hand comes dangerously close to his cock. He modifies his movement to bring the soap down and around and over his balls and he uses he free hand to knead them between his fingers, his abs contracting uncontrollably at the pleasure.
He finally drags the bar up the underside of his throbbing erection, tracing the vein along the bottom, imagining ghosting breaths along its length. He switches the soap to his left hand and finally wraps his hand around his cock, groaning at the delicious friction. There’s no disguising the manliness of his own hand and he bites his lower lip, licking along it slowly, as a distraction. He tries to keep his pace slow, running the soap along his body, but, more quickly than he’d like, his hips are betraying him and thrusting up into his hand faster than he’s stroking and he gives in. He lets the soap drift to the bottom of the tub and brings his liberated fingers up to tease his nipples as he speeds up his pace. It’s suddenly impossibly hot and his abs contract hard just before he comes, biting off a moan to keep it from bouncing loudly over the tiles.
He’s burning up but he can’t move, trying not to pass out from the combination of the heat and the sated feeling. Finally he forces himself to move, making a few last swipes over his body with the soap before rising, feeling suddenly heavy as he leaves the water, and stepping out to towel himself dry. He wraps the towel around his waist and walks to his bedroom to put on a pair of comfortable, ratty sweats and loose t-shirt. The living room is quiet and calm when he enters it and curls himself up on the couch with a purring Nyanta and a book. The warmth, purring, and book put him to sleep in less than twenty minutes and no one has the heart to wake him.
TegoShige (PG-15)- "Haha, how to have an anti-climax with Tegoshi. XD" bananyphophany
Sleeping with Tegoshi is like tightrope walking. He likes a challenge but his competitive spirit complicates things. One slip to the wrong side and you either end up bottoming or empty-handed.
“Tegoshi,” Shige growled against the bathroom door. “I know what you’re doing in there. You get out here now.”
“No! I told you not to tease.” Shige told himself that the breathy quality to Tegoshi’s voice was just from being muffled by the door.
“You always say that. You were fine last night!” Silence, then a muted groan on the other side. “Fuck, Tegoshi.” In his mind he could see the man jerking himself to thoughts of Shige behind his closed eyes. “We can make that real,” he said, making his voice low.
Nothing. Then a high moan shuddering to completion.
Shige banged his head against the door in frustration.
Tegoshi opened the door and breezed past him a few minutes later, cheeks still flushed, to enter Shige’s bedroom. Shige turned to follow him hopefully, but, stopping just inside the door, Tegoshi faced him and said with a blinding smile, “I know you don't mind, thanks for taking the couch,” before shutting the door in his face.
“Hooker boots” (Technically G) Tegoshi, Shige, Koyama bananyphophany's Prompt #22
They all stared at the boots.
“Um,” Shige supplied helpfully.
“I think Tegoshi should wear them,” Koyama says. “He likes dressing like a girl and acting slutty anyway.”
Tegoshi looks a bit affronted. “I do not act slutty.”
Shige snorts.
“Anyway,” he goes on, glaring at Shige. “They’re too big for me. Koyama should wear them because he’s got the longest legs.”
Koyama splutters at him. “What? No!”
“No. He’s got a point.” Shige looks at Koyama’s legs contemplatively.
“And Shige would totally fall all over himself, anyway. You’d be saving him from definite injury.”
Shige wants to be angry but he just ends up sighing, deflated. “Yeah,” he agrees.
The rest of NewS hoots raucously and makes him do a runway walk for them, his face practically matching the fire-engine red of the thigh-high boots. Secretly, everyone wished Tegoshi had worn them, anyway, except Tegoshi who was rather pleased with himself all around.
Jumpin' the Gun Koyama-centric (R) - from Koyama's Member Love 500th special translated by foxhana
Q1. (Kyoto Prefecture . Chichon)
What is the first thing you do when you reach home? ★
A1.
After reaching home
Will take off necklace, watch, earrings, rings, and put them into a small box ★
Then, wash my hands, go to the kitchen, feed Nyanta
And after checking that Nyanta is eating the cat food, I will go for a bath
Because I can reset the me that is outside, and become the me at home so I will go for a bath first
Then.........
This question shall stop here
Koyama shuffles into his room, tiredly unclasping his necklace, slipping off rings and earrings and placing them in the small box on his dresser. He rubs his hand over his face and peers at his reflection, noting with distaste the bags under his eyes. Making his way out to the kitchen, he gets Nyanta’s cat food out and feeds him, crouching down and running his hands down the cat’s silky back as he eats. He loves the way Nyanta’s little body rumbles under his fingers and arches up to meet his touch and he smiles fondly at the cat. He stays that way a moment, lost in the sensation, before shaking himself a bit and going back to his room to get his things together for a bath.
A nice, long one, he decides. He’s earned it. He drinks a glass of water while he waits for the bath to fill and then clips his bangs up out of his face before slipping into the water, adjusting long legs and sliding down until he’s covered up to the neck. He soaks for a while, just enjoying the feeling of his body overheating in the humid room, before grabbing the bar of soap. He runs it over himself lazily, the slickness of it on his skin under the water feeling like a smooth, sleek tongue. He moves it slowly across his abs, trailing the fingers of his free hand along his sides, imagining the tickle of glossy black hair as it trails in the wake of the tongue. When he makes it up to his nipples, he can’t suppress a low moan or the movement that has his fingers pinching a nipple and twisting it slightly.
He forces himself to move slowly, drawing the bar back down his chest to rub down his legs and he shifts the angle enough that his nails scratch against his inner thighs just barely as he drags it up and then repeats it on the other leg. He’s glad he’s grown his nails a little longer; it makes it easier to imagine the nails as part of a smaller, more delicate hand than his own, tracing patterns against his flesh. His shoulders are tense and he consciously relaxes them, letting his head fall a little to the side and back as his hand comes dangerously close to his cock. He modifies his movement to bring the soap down and around and over his balls and he uses he free hand to knead them between his fingers, his abs contracting uncontrollably at the pleasure.
He finally drags the bar up the underside of his throbbing erection, tracing the vein along the bottom, imagining ghosting breaths along its length. He switches the soap to his left hand and finally wraps his hand around his cock, groaning at the delicious friction. There’s no disguising the manliness of his own hand and he bites his lower lip, licking along it slowly, as a distraction. He tries to keep his pace slow, running the soap along his body, but, more quickly than he’d like, his hips are betraying him and thrusting up into his hand faster than he’s stroking and he gives in. He lets the soap drift to the bottom of the tub and brings his liberated fingers up to tease his nipples as he speeds up his pace. It’s suddenly impossibly hot and his abs contract hard just before he comes, biting off a moan to keep it from bouncing loudly over the tiles.
He’s burning up but he can’t move, trying not to pass out from the combination of the heat and the sated feeling. Finally he forces himself to move, making a few last swipes over his body with the soap before rising, feeling suddenly heavy as he leaves the water, and stepping out to towel himself dry. He wraps the towel around his waist and walks to his bedroom to put on a pair of comfortable, ratty sweats and loose t-shirt. The living room is quiet and calm when he enters it and curls himself up on the couch with a purring Nyanta and a book. The warmth, purring, and book put him to sleep in less than twenty minutes and no one has the heart to wake him.