You're like a burning flame (and I'll never be the same) (oneshot, NC-17)
Ryo has always had the luck for meeting people that, in one way or another, managed to successfully change his life. It’s a good thing - it keeps him away from the usual stagnation of the life of a regular businessman; but on the other hand, it gives him a lot of troubles, considering the fact of his nature which is extremely prone to outer stimuli. Maybe it’s because subconsciously he’s craving for something to brighten up his days, protecting him from daily routines, maybe it’s just him being born under an unlucky star, but whatever it is, it’s chasing after him everyday, not giving a break for even one breath of normality. Honestly, Ryo isn’t sure if he should be cursing this life or be grateful for it, but it’s not like he has enough time to think about it - he’s way too busy in taking it and bearing with himself and everything that environment gives him, to actually care about considering any pros and cons.
It’s a sheer luck when he meets this man on the way back home from his office, working overtime to gain some respect in the eyes of his new boss. He’s standing on the edge of a sidewalk in a small alley between buildings that leads to nowhere in fact. Ryo assumes he must be lost - he doesn’t look like he has any specific goal in being there, but he’s glancing around, almost as if looking for something or waiting for someone.
“Sorry,” he starts, stopping just a two, maybe three steps in front of the man. Only now he can see him clearly, face only partially hidden in the shadows. Ryo can’t quite grasp what it is about the other one, that he can’t take his eyes away from him for a few long moments - long legs wrapped in tight, black jeans, handsome face with mysterious expression or maybe styled hair that goes well with fashionable clothes? But it doesn’t really matter, not when he’s eyeing him curiously, like it’s not Ryo who wonders what is he doing there, but the other way round. “Are you looking for something?”
He feels a bit taken aback when he sees the man suddenly starts laughing, his features more relaxed and natural now, shoulders twitching lightly. Normally, in such a situation, Ryo would be irritated and ready to snarl loudly something not really friendly, but he’s too lost in the soft sound of the other one’s laughter to actually think about any blunt reply to that attitude of his.
“Please, forgive me,” the man says, brushing his fingertips over the sleeve of Ryo’s suit, the gesture being a non-verbal question to Ryo to not get offended. “I didn’t want to scare you off. It’s just that, well, you’re not a frequent visitor of these areas, are you?”
Ryo stays silent for a moment, thinking about his reply. It’s true, he usually just takes the train from the station near his office, but thanks to his brilliant idea of working overtime, he’d missed the last one and was forced to take a three stations long walk.
“Not really,” he answers, wondering where this talk is supposed to lead them.
“I can tell. You’d know me otherwise.”
“And what are you, local drugs dealer?” Ryo asks, somewhat annoyed. This man may be a pleasure for his eyes, but it’s not that pretty face, long legs and nice ass (not that Ryo had the time to check him out that deeply yet, of course) makes him someone exceptional. Well, at least not almost in the middle of the night, when Ryo is tired and in one of his worst moods.
“Do I look like one to you?” he asks in a response, looking somehow amused. The left corner of his full mouth lifts a little in a soft, lop-sided smile, when he leans in a bit, looking right in Ryo’s eyes. He feels his own hand gripping his suitcase harder at the action - he has never really been comfortable with such a closeness to the other person, especially when she - or he, it doesn’t matter - is a complete stranger. Furthermore, unbelievably and mind-blowingly hot stranger. “For your information, I’m not. But my profession might be considered as a very similar when it comes to… Effects on other people’s minds and bodies.”
Ryo couldn’t stop a muffled gasp escaping his mouth when the hot breath hits his skin, contrasting with it’s coolness almost painfully - and when at the same time, realization hits his mind with an incredibly strong force.
*
When the following day Ryo takes overtime once again, it’s not entirely because he wants to appear as the best worker of the year (he has never had such an ambitions anyway - he’s more of a person, who does what he is expected to do, the very least he needs to show in order to get his monthly salary). It’s more likely that he can’t help but think about how it’d be to try that kind of drug, the one he met the day before. It had been nagging him from the first second after he moved away from the other man, startled by his discovery, wanting nothing but to come back to home and forget about that strange meeting. He just couldn’t shut his mind, couldn’t concentrate on his work, couldn’t throw away the image of sharp but delicate features of that face, of dark eyes, of the smooth and deep voice sounding so perfect in his ears.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to see, get or do. It’s more like his legs are moving on it’s own, leading him in he same place, through the same alleys, dark and gloomy just like yesterday. It’s like the sample of the drug he’s offering to sell to his clients has already made him an addict, dictating his mind what and how to do.
“Sorry,” after a few moments of looking around, he suddenly hears a familiar voice right beside him. He freezes dead in his tracks, all senses keen, well aware of it’s surroundings. “Are you looking for something?”
The other one’s voice is smooth and deep, exactly like yesterday, a soft melody to his ears, even if he can sense the evidently mocking tone. He can’t help but close his eyes for a few short seconds, enjoying the warm feeling against his cheek when hot breath hits it once again.
“Maybe,” Ryo answers, somehow calmed by that sensation.
“And it depends on…?”
“On how demanding you are,” he replies turning his head to the right, enough to catch the look in the other one’s eyes.
He snickers softly then. “I’m sure you can afford me,” is his answer, soft but seducing smile stretching his lips for a split second, right before Ryo nods his head almost unnoticeably and starts walking in the direction of his apartment.
Ryo has no idea what exactly he’s doing. Feeling attracted to the man whore, taking him to his own home and planning to spend on him an insane amount of money which will probably oscillate somewhere around his monthly earnings, he’s almost sure he has gone mad, or something like this. But on the other hand, he can’t really help it, and he knows it well. No, he has never done anything like that, but there were numerous of times when he felt really similar. Meeting someone, finding out something, and in an instant knowing that he just has to do the certain thing, almost sure his life would lost it’s meaning if he’d missed the chance. So here he is, once again trapped in his life’s unexpected turn, being able to do nothing, but let it be, allowing it to go in it’s pace in whatever direction it wants.
“Hey,” he hears after a twenty minutes of walk when they cross the last street before stopping in front of a tall building. “How should I call you?”
“Nishikido,” he answers without thinking twice. Only after he said it, it starts to be a bit awkward. Because really, how stupid it’s going to sound, someone moaning your surname in possibly the most intimate of ecstasies?
He’s so lost in his thoughts, that he doesn’t even notice how the other man is sliding his finger down the list on intercom, tapping the one name somewhere in the middle.
“Ah,” comes the sound, perfect as everything that escapes that mouth of his. “So it’s going to be Ryo then,” the man replies, smiling bright and widely for the first time since they’d met. Ryo feels a bit dazzled in this one moment, both from that damn smile and the man’s straightforwardness, but he doesn’t comment on either, simply opening the doors and letting him in.
“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” Ryo hears, right when he’s in the middle of hanging his jacket in a small wardrobe. He looks around, staring at the man and wondering what is he talking about. He wasn’t really paying attention to him for the whole ride in elevator, almost as if not noticing him at all.
“I don’t know what are you talking about,” he says, deciding it’s the bluntest reply he can possibly give in that situation.
“Oh my, so it really is,” the other one says, instantly jumping to the conclusions, which Ryo really hates about him. It makes him feel even more intimidated, as if the whole situation isn’t enough embarrassing. “But I can understand it. You’re looking mighty fine and you probably don’t have any problems with getting laid, do you?” he asks, clearly not having any problems with making himself feel like at home, crashing on the couch and rummaging through some papers laying on a coffee table. Well, of course he doesn’t have problem with this - he probably has to bear often enough with such situations to simply get used to it.
“It doesn’t matter though,” is the continuation of the man’s monologue, who clearly doesn’t give a fuck about Ryo’s possible reply. Which is good, because he isn’t going to give him any, deciding it’s not anyone’s business how often he gets a laid. To be honest, he doesn’t care about that himself, not even remembering when he saw a girl, or another man, in his bed for the last time. “Since I’m here, we don’t have to talk about anyone else, right?”
Ryo has no idea why, when and how (okay, maybe he has an idea why, but he still tries to deny it) this damn ideal of man suddenly appears right in front of him, whispering in that seductive tone into his ear, long and slim fingers brushing his messy, after the whole day, hair aside.
Millions of shivers runs down his spine in this one specific moment; he’s completely dazzled because of the contact and closeness, so intensive in it’s simplicity. Ryo doesn’t react when a hand sneaks around his waist - not pulling, but embracing, silently encouraging him to give in to the touch, sensations, desire. He doesn’t know why the other man has such an influence on him, why suddenly he feels like doing everything and anything he tells him - and he won’t even try do inquire into this, not really caring, not thinking it will give him anything more than a bigger mess in the head than he already has.
“Are you always that much absent on your way to bed?” asks the man, amusement glinting in his eyes and small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “A few more moments like this and I’m going to change my mind about you having no problems with getting laid.”
Ryo’s look sharpens at that, when he notices he spaced out indeed, and it must’ve been kind of creepy thing when someone approaches you with intentions that are so obvious, visible all around them.
“Shut up,” Ryo replies after a few seconds, irritated - because no matter how strong impact the man has on him, he won’t suddenly change into some pathetic and weak guy with social problems, whom he’s sure he isn’t. And as if to prove this - to himself and most of all to the smirking man standing right in front of him, still so impossibly close - he reaches with his hand to rest it on the back of his neck, making him lean forward and allow Ryo to claim his lips, licking that damn smirk off of them, hungry for everything they could possibly offer him.
Their first kiss is intensive and rushed, both of them paralyzed by some unknown, invisible spark of electricity, making them wade further and further, not noticing small things like Ryo’s back bumping into a wall with a low thud, or dangerous rustle of the taller man’s shirt when Ryo pulls at the material a bit too hard.
Ryo thinks it’s a bit awkward when he pulls away from the kiss. He doesn’t move away, one of his hand still leaning on the wall just above Ryo’s head, while the other one lays on a hot skin of his hip under his shirt, tugged out of the pants. He’s so close Ryo can feel every puff of warm air on his own cheek, and he feels hypnotized when the other one licks his lips with a soft, wet sound, being like a melody to Ryo’s ears.
“We’re feeling a bit proving, huh?” comments the man, tracing small patterns with his finger on Ryo’s hip. The action, together with incredibly sensual, seductive tone of the other’s voice, really starts to drive him insane, wanting nothing more than go with the wild flow. Which wouldn’t be that stupid and careless, considering who it is that stands right in front him, and how horrendous amount of money he’s probably going to pay him. Because Ryo is sure as hell, that a man like this one just can’t be cheap.
“I don’t think I have to prove you anything,” is Ryo’s late response, and really, he seriously must look like a very slow person in the other’s eyes, considering how long time it takes him to reply to anything he says.
But thankfully, words aren’t the most important thing between them; Ryo isn’t going to pay for his intelligence, and said man isn’t someone who he is because he’s a good talker. Not knowing what to say doesn’t stop them, doesn’t make next deep, intense kisses impossible, and it doesn’t interfere with slowly heading to the bedroom. Sure their steps are messy, and it’s hard not to stumble when tugged off clothes fall right underneath their foots - but they seem to not notice any of this, reaching their target which in fact is a king-sized bed Ryo spent on almost his whole monthly salary. Well, he liked luxury. Be it an apartment, food, men and women - and of course, evening entertainments.
Somehow, when he feels himself being pushed on his own bed, and soon the taller man hovering over him, Ryo has a hunch he’s not the one to dominate the whole situation. His more on a submissive side there, letting the other’s tongue slide past his mouth, not minding surprisingly strong hand clench around his shoulder, and almost welcoming the slim thigh brushing over his crotch. More than that, he actually enjoys this, that new form of intimacy he denied to acknowledge before. Why he does now, though? He has no idea. But then again, it’s not like it’s important. Not as long as that heat is right beside him, radiating out of the other one and embracing him despite all of the barriers.
“Say, Ryo,” the mans starts, licking his way down Ryo’s neck, sucking on a collarbone and moving further on the hot skin, fully exposed between his undone already shirt. “What do you like?” he asks then, words muffled a bit when his lips are touching Ryo’s body, slim but muscular in somehow delicate way, “And how do you like? Rough?” is the next question, followed by a small bite, leaving a red mark and thousands of shivers, “Or maybe gently?” come the next words right after that, with a slow lick of only the tip of his tongue, tracing the red mark of his earlier bite.
“Shouldn’t it be me asking you, all of this?” is Ryo’s reply, and he’s looking at his hip, the red and wet bite placed right above the band of his pants.
“It’s your evening, not mine.”
“But it’s me who’s going to top you, not the other way round,” he counters, lifting his hips just enough for the other one to tug at them and slide them down his legs. It should be embarrassing, intimidating, that nakedness of his while the taller man is still fully dressed - but it isn’t, not really, not in the way one could expect it to be.
“You sure?” he asks after a while, straightening up and taking a single step back, however not breaking the eye contact. His stare is intensive, heated, and sparkling with visible excitement, which isn’t really something Ryo expected to see in the eyes of someone, for whom situation like this is experienced on a daily basis, probably. But he doesn’t mind; not when those eyes don’t leave him while his whole body, slowly revealing itself from under the clothes, is screaming two obvious words - “take me!”.
Only that Ryo doesn’t really have the desire to take that body. Of course, he wants to claim him, to mark him and let him be his - even if only for that one night - but there is a lot bigger need to submit to him, let him take the control and show him the way to heaven, which Ryo is sure he knows by heart.
It’s painful, to watch him - his body which is perfect in all it’s dimensions - but not being able to touch him. He moves his hips like a dancer, and he smiles with a smile worth millions of dollars, the one Ryo could kill for. He’s everything he could possibly want - and need - now, everything he could think of and ask for. And when he comes back to him, when his naked body touches Ryo’s, and when he can feel his heat, he knows there is no turning back - neither for his spreading legs, soon closing around his thighs and pulling him closer, and for his rushed, slurred words, which oscillated somewhere between “take me” and “closer”.
And he does; he comes even closer, and he takes him - past his plump lips, deep into his mouth, sucking slowly with audible, wet sounds, and making this a pleasure not only for Ryo’s body, but his ears and eyes too. He’s hypnotized by the sight, and it’s probably the most alluring thing he had seen in a long time, eyes half-closed, cheeks hollowed and hair messy, partially falling onto his handsome face.
“Aren’t you curious?” comes the question some time later, when Ryo isn’t sure if he’s a normal human being anymore, feeling more like a undefined body crumbled into millions of pieces, every of them shaking on it’s own from the strong impact of the man’s mouth’s doings.
“About what?” he asks, not trusting his voice when it comes out more like a shaky breath with a meaning which the other one seemed to understand somehow.
“My name,” is the answer, when he smiles and licks off the mixture of saliva and Ryo’s pre-cum of his own lips, looking as if he’s savoring the unique taste. In that one, specific moment, Ryo is sure that if he wanted to, he’d be able to make anything look tasty and delicious. “You know already what can I make you to do and say, so wouldn’t it be nice to moan some actual words, names particularly, than incoherent things while I’m going to show you the whole new form of pleasure?”
Ryo doesn’t answer, the embarrassment striking him once again, but gladly, it’s soon washed off by the other’s voice, “It’s Tadayoshi.”
“And how am I supposed to moan this?” Ryo snorts momentarily, looking skeptical while recovering his usual, snarky self, even if just for a moment. “It’s too fucking long. And pathetic. It sounds like an old man’s name.”
“Then make it short,” he replies with simplicity, not really acknowledging the insult Ryo threw at him. “You seems to be quite a talker, so I’m sure you can come up with something that will easily roll off your tongue. It’s not like I care what you will call me,” he says, hovering over him again, leaning close to his ear and tracing the tip of his tongue along the edge of it’s shell. “I just want to get what I need, nothing else.”
Ryo grunts then; he’s not exactly sure how and when that Tadayoshi guy got his fingers coated in a cold, slick fluid, but he doesn’t mind when he pushes them past the ring of muscles, making Ryo lay back and close eyes in an instant, giving up on any comment he’s been having at the tip of his tongue, ready to be spit out.
He’s skilled; Ryo thinks, and it’s practically the only thing he can think about. Tadayoshi’s fingers, his presence, voice and gaze - everything about him is so mind-blowing, that he doesn’t even know if it’s possible for him to be real. If it’s possible to feel that good, to not have the slightest opposition to being submissive probably for the first time in his life. To being submissive in front of someone like him; and really, how low one can fall, when the whore you pay for, spreads your legs and prepares you for a senseless fuck you know you will enjoy…?
Ryo would laugh at himself, he really would - but he’s too busy moaning his lungs out when both of Tadayoshi’s long fingers hits that special spot inside him, the one which Ryo remembers hitting by himself so many times he had a man in his bed. He trashes on his bed, not knowing where to move and what to do to gain more of that intimate touch; but the other one doesn’t allow him to stay long in that state. He takes his hand back, briefly wiping the fingers in the white, fresh sheets on Ryo’s bed - and it’s really just a moment before he’s close again, making Ryo’s mind numb.
But it’s not only his mind that stays in this state - it’s his whole body when Tadayoshi, after skillfully rolling the condom on and coating himself with a scentless lubricant, presses himself into him slowly, holding Ryo’s hips firmly in place. Ryo lets out a needy moan at the action, lured between burning desire and hints of pain attacking him in one second and fading away in the next one. Tadayoshi waits a few moments before making an experimental thrust against him, rocking Ryo’s body forward with the strength of the movement, his head bumping lightly in the wooden headboard of his bed.
“God,” breaths out Ryo after the third time Tadayoshi rocks into him, the sensation, sound of skin slamming against skin and the view of the other one’s face relaxed into a sheer ecstasy, all of this being just too much to bear.
“Is this how you decided to call me?” the man asks, leaning in and stealing a deep kiss, hips never stopping it’s movements, hands never releasing it’s grip. “I like it. It suits me pretty well, huh?”
“Shut up. Just,” Ryo slams his lips against the other’s ones one last time, biting his lower lip softly, trying to regain at least a little bit of his usual, confident and independent self. “Just shut up and do your thing.”
And he does; oh, he does so well. His speed is slowly dying down for the sake of rising strength of every next thrust - and Tadayoshi drives into the other forcefully enough to make both of them dizzy - breath harder to catch and vision starting to blur - but not to bring any harm. The tip of his cock nudges Ryo’s prostate over and over again, which makes him cry and moan, and make all those noises Ryo has always despised, thinking of them as of not manly and definitely unsuitable for someone as masculine as him. But his pride doesn’t matter there and now, not when he’s living through the best sex in his life, giving himself in completely, relying on Tadayoshi without a second thought. It’s all about those fists clenching the white, now slightly damp sheets, about moans escaping their mouths, and about the pleasure too big to fit it in any of the existing words.
It’s only the matter of time, when Tadayoshi takes a hold of Ryo’s erection which is throbbing painfully and making him lose his mind completely - it’s only the matter of time, time measured with thrusts of hips and movements of hand, before Ryo comes with a name on his mouth, the one he claimed to be too long and definitely not suitable to be shouted out during an orgasm, the one that in the end comes out perfectly, rolling off his tongue easily - loudly but softly, the last syllable lost somewhere in his clenched throat.
Too lost in the intensive sensation, successfully fogging his mind, Ryo seems to not fully acknowledge the final thrusts of Tadayoshi’s hips, slower and even more intensive than all of the previous ones, skin clashing against skin with inhumanly strong force. It’s like he’s not entirely in his body, like his mind is sleeping, too worn out to produce any more coherent thoughts. He can concentrate only on the final feelings - stillness, soon followed by striking emptiness and unpleasant coldness, just to end with warmth seeping through him again, together with a hand encircling his waist.
*
Ryo wakes up the next morning, and it’s to the empty bed with the sheets completely messed up, being an evidence of the last night. For a few seconds he considers not getting up, deciding he doesn’t really want to think about all of this now, especially since the object of his one-night escapade seems to be absent - but then he sees a clothes on the floor, and no matter how sleepy he still is, he’s more than sure those are not his.
It’s thanks to his instincts - and ability to sense the smell of coffee anywhere at any time - that he’s in a kitchen just a few seconds later, standing face to face with the man of his dreams, and nightmares, and confusion, and everything really; the man who’s sipping the coffee, sitting comfortably on the chair. It feels weird, seeing a complete stranger in your own apartment, practically invading your privacy, but still being aware of the fact you can’t say it’s entirely wrong. Because somehow it feels just right, the slim silhouette in a small but bright kitchen, with a soft smile playing on his lips, matching the scene just perfectly.
“Morning,” he says, looking kind of irrational while sitting there with leg bent in a knee, resting his chin on it and staring at Ryo with still sleepy eyes; he must’ve woke up not so long ago. “I made more coffee, so just help yourself,” he nods at the coffee pot and the second, green mug standing on the table.
Ryo only murmurs in a reply, “Shouldn’t it be me who’s saying that,” but it’s not a question, more like a dubious statement, voiced out between one and another yawn. He takes his time in pouring the coffee and blowing at the steaming hot, only then sipping the dark black, strong liquid. “What are you still doing there, by the way?”
Tadayoshi stares at him for a few moments with an unreadable expression, and Ryo can’t quite grasp what is this about, when it suddenly comes to his mind at last, and before he can think about this, he smacks his forehead with hand, “That’s right! Money. I completely forgot. So how much will that small heaven cost me?”
It should feel awkward, and maybe it is, but he doesn’t really care about it anymore. What’s done is done, and there is no turning back now. Or at least that’s what he thought until the moment Tadayoshi starts laughing, and it’s nowhere near the soft, playful laughs he gave him last night. No, this time he just laughs, loudly and whole-heartedly, visible tears forming in his glassy eyes, and Ryo is nothing but a living confusion.
“I can’t believe I really managed to trick you into believing I’m a whore,” he says after a few long, too long as for Ryo, moments of trying to calm down. “But that must mean I’m just good with my seduction skills, isn’t it?”
Ryo doesn’t really know how to react and what to say, the whole situation quite irrational to him, and so the only word he manages to say is a simple, “What?”
Tadayoshi clicks his tongue, clearly amused, “I never said I’m a whore, or a prostitute, or that I take money for sexual services; it was your own finding. Which, I’m not really sad to admit, is false,” he explains, tracing the finger along the rim of his yellow mug. “Yes, my doings are similar to drug’s effects, but what I meant by saying this is that I’m just an incredibly good host,” Tadayoshi adds immodestly.
“A host,” Ryo repeats absent-mindedly, staring at him as if he has seen a ghost, not a person he lost his mind for just a few hours ago.
“That’s right,” he nods. “So just keep your money for our next meeting, will you? Because the next time, you’re taking me for a dinner, and I refuse to go to some cheap restaurant. I like fancy things. But you do too, as you proved last night,” he says smugly, “So I’m sure we’ll get along, Ryo-chan,” he ends, propping his head on a hand, slowly licking his lips in the way Ryo will never, ever, be able to forget.
It’s a sheer luck when he meets this man on the way back home from his office, working overtime to gain some respect in the eyes of his new boss. He’s standing on the edge of a sidewalk in a small alley between buildings that leads to nowhere in fact. Ryo assumes he must be lost - he doesn’t look like he has any specific goal in being there, but he’s glancing around, almost as if looking for something or waiting for someone.
“Sorry,” he starts, stopping just a two, maybe three steps in front of the man. Only now he can see him clearly, face only partially hidden in the shadows. Ryo can’t quite grasp what it is about the other one, that he can’t take his eyes away from him for a few long moments - long legs wrapped in tight, black jeans, handsome face with mysterious expression or maybe styled hair that goes well with fashionable clothes? But it doesn’t really matter, not when he’s eyeing him curiously, like it’s not Ryo who wonders what is he doing there, but the other way round. “Are you looking for something?”
He feels a bit taken aback when he sees the man suddenly starts laughing, his features more relaxed and natural now, shoulders twitching lightly. Normally, in such a situation, Ryo would be irritated and ready to snarl loudly something not really friendly, but he’s too lost in the soft sound of the other one’s laughter to actually think about any blunt reply to that attitude of his.
“Please, forgive me,” the man says, brushing his fingertips over the sleeve of Ryo’s suit, the gesture being a non-verbal question to Ryo to not get offended. “I didn’t want to scare you off. It’s just that, well, you’re not a frequent visitor of these areas, are you?”
Ryo stays silent for a moment, thinking about his reply. It’s true, he usually just takes the train from the station near his office, but thanks to his brilliant idea of working overtime, he’d missed the last one and was forced to take a three stations long walk.
“Not really,” he answers, wondering where this talk is supposed to lead them.
“I can tell. You’d know me otherwise.”
“And what are you, local drugs dealer?” Ryo asks, somewhat annoyed. This man may be a pleasure for his eyes, but it’s not that pretty face, long legs and nice ass (not that Ryo had the time to check him out that deeply yet, of course) makes him someone exceptional. Well, at least not almost in the middle of the night, when Ryo is tired and in one of his worst moods.
“Do I look like one to you?” he asks in a response, looking somehow amused. The left corner of his full mouth lifts a little in a soft, lop-sided smile, when he leans in a bit, looking right in Ryo’s eyes. He feels his own hand gripping his suitcase harder at the action - he has never really been comfortable with such a closeness to the other person, especially when she - or he, it doesn’t matter - is a complete stranger. Furthermore, unbelievably and mind-blowingly hot stranger. “For your information, I’m not. But my profession might be considered as a very similar when it comes to… Effects on other people’s minds and bodies.”
Ryo couldn’t stop a muffled gasp escaping his mouth when the hot breath hits his skin, contrasting with it’s coolness almost painfully - and when at the same time, realization hits his mind with an incredibly strong force.
*
When the following day Ryo takes overtime once again, it’s not entirely because he wants to appear as the best worker of the year (he has never had such an ambitions anyway - he’s more of a person, who does what he is expected to do, the very least he needs to show in order to get his monthly salary). It’s more likely that he can’t help but think about how it’d be to try that kind of drug, the one he met the day before. It had been nagging him from the first second after he moved away from the other man, startled by his discovery, wanting nothing but to come back to home and forget about that strange meeting. He just couldn’t shut his mind, couldn’t concentrate on his work, couldn’t throw away the image of sharp but delicate features of that face, of dark eyes, of the smooth and deep voice sounding so perfect in his ears.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to see, get or do. It’s more like his legs are moving on it’s own, leading him in he same place, through the same alleys, dark and gloomy just like yesterday. It’s like the sample of the drug he’s offering to sell to his clients has already made him an addict, dictating his mind what and how to do.
“Sorry,” after a few moments of looking around, he suddenly hears a familiar voice right beside him. He freezes dead in his tracks, all senses keen, well aware of it’s surroundings. “Are you looking for something?”
The other one’s voice is smooth and deep, exactly like yesterday, a soft melody to his ears, even if he can sense the evidently mocking tone. He can’t help but close his eyes for a few short seconds, enjoying the warm feeling against his cheek when hot breath hits it once again.
“Maybe,” Ryo answers, somehow calmed by that sensation.
“And it depends on…?”
“On how demanding you are,” he replies turning his head to the right, enough to catch the look in the other one’s eyes.
He snickers softly then. “I’m sure you can afford me,” is his answer, soft but seducing smile stretching his lips for a split second, right before Ryo nods his head almost unnoticeably and starts walking in the direction of his apartment.
Ryo has no idea what exactly he’s doing. Feeling attracted to the man whore, taking him to his own home and planning to spend on him an insane amount of money which will probably oscillate somewhere around his monthly earnings, he’s almost sure he has gone mad, or something like this. But on the other hand, he can’t really help it, and he knows it well. No, he has never done anything like that, but there were numerous of times when he felt really similar. Meeting someone, finding out something, and in an instant knowing that he just has to do the certain thing, almost sure his life would lost it’s meaning if he’d missed the chance. So here he is, once again trapped in his life’s unexpected turn, being able to do nothing, but let it be, allowing it to go in it’s pace in whatever direction it wants.
“Hey,” he hears after a twenty minutes of walk when they cross the last street before stopping in front of a tall building. “How should I call you?”
“Nishikido,” he answers without thinking twice. Only after he said it, it starts to be a bit awkward. Because really, how stupid it’s going to sound, someone moaning your surname in possibly the most intimate of ecstasies?
He’s so lost in his thoughts, that he doesn’t even notice how the other man is sliding his finger down the list on intercom, tapping the one name somewhere in the middle.
“Ah,” comes the sound, perfect as everything that escapes that mouth of his. “So it’s going to be Ryo then,” the man replies, smiling bright and widely for the first time since they’d met. Ryo feels a bit dazzled in this one moment, both from that damn smile and the man’s straightforwardness, but he doesn’t comment on either, simply opening the doors and letting him in.
“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” Ryo hears, right when he’s in the middle of hanging his jacket in a small wardrobe. He looks around, staring at the man and wondering what is he talking about. He wasn’t really paying attention to him for the whole ride in elevator, almost as if not noticing him at all.
“I don’t know what are you talking about,” he says, deciding it’s the bluntest reply he can possibly give in that situation.
“Oh my, so it really is,” the other one says, instantly jumping to the conclusions, which Ryo really hates about him. It makes him feel even more intimidated, as if the whole situation isn’t enough embarrassing. “But I can understand it. You’re looking mighty fine and you probably don’t have any problems with getting laid, do you?” he asks, clearly not having any problems with making himself feel like at home, crashing on the couch and rummaging through some papers laying on a coffee table. Well, of course he doesn’t have problem with this - he probably has to bear often enough with such situations to simply get used to it.
“It doesn’t matter though,” is the continuation of the man’s monologue, who clearly doesn’t give a fuck about Ryo’s possible reply. Which is good, because he isn’t going to give him any, deciding it’s not anyone’s business how often he gets a laid. To be honest, he doesn’t care about that himself, not even remembering when he saw a girl, or another man, in his bed for the last time. “Since I’m here, we don’t have to talk about anyone else, right?”
Ryo has no idea why, when and how (okay, maybe he has an idea why, but he still tries to deny it) this damn ideal of man suddenly appears right in front of him, whispering in that seductive tone into his ear, long and slim fingers brushing his messy, after the whole day, hair aside.
Millions of shivers runs down his spine in this one specific moment; he’s completely dazzled because of the contact and closeness, so intensive in it’s simplicity. Ryo doesn’t react when a hand sneaks around his waist - not pulling, but embracing, silently encouraging him to give in to the touch, sensations, desire. He doesn’t know why the other man has such an influence on him, why suddenly he feels like doing everything and anything he tells him - and he won’t even try do inquire into this, not really caring, not thinking it will give him anything more than a bigger mess in the head than he already has.
“Are you always that much absent on your way to bed?” asks the man, amusement glinting in his eyes and small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “A few more moments like this and I’m going to change my mind about you having no problems with getting laid.”
Ryo’s look sharpens at that, when he notices he spaced out indeed, and it must’ve been kind of creepy thing when someone approaches you with intentions that are so obvious, visible all around them.
“Shut up,” Ryo replies after a few seconds, irritated - because no matter how strong impact the man has on him, he won’t suddenly change into some pathetic and weak guy with social problems, whom he’s sure he isn’t. And as if to prove this - to himself and most of all to the smirking man standing right in front of him, still so impossibly close - he reaches with his hand to rest it on the back of his neck, making him lean forward and allow Ryo to claim his lips, licking that damn smirk off of them, hungry for everything they could possibly offer him.
Their first kiss is intensive and rushed, both of them paralyzed by some unknown, invisible spark of electricity, making them wade further and further, not noticing small things like Ryo’s back bumping into a wall with a low thud, or dangerous rustle of the taller man’s shirt when Ryo pulls at the material a bit too hard.
Ryo thinks it’s a bit awkward when he pulls away from the kiss. He doesn’t move away, one of his hand still leaning on the wall just above Ryo’s head, while the other one lays on a hot skin of his hip under his shirt, tugged out of the pants. He’s so close Ryo can feel every puff of warm air on his own cheek, and he feels hypnotized when the other one licks his lips with a soft, wet sound, being like a melody to Ryo’s ears.
“We’re feeling a bit proving, huh?” comments the man, tracing small patterns with his finger on Ryo’s hip. The action, together with incredibly sensual, seductive tone of the other’s voice, really starts to drive him insane, wanting nothing more than go with the wild flow. Which wouldn’t be that stupid and careless, considering who it is that stands right in front him, and how horrendous amount of money he’s probably going to pay him. Because Ryo is sure as hell, that a man like this one just can’t be cheap.
“I don’t think I have to prove you anything,” is Ryo’s late response, and really, he seriously must look like a very slow person in the other’s eyes, considering how long time it takes him to reply to anything he says.
But thankfully, words aren’t the most important thing between them; Ryo isn’t going to pay for his intelligence, and said man isn’t someone who he is because he’s a good talker. Not knowing what to say doesn’t stop them, doesn’t make next deep, intense kisses impossible, and it doesn’t interfere with slowly heading to the bedroom. Sure their steps are messy, and it’s hard not to stumble when tugged off clothes fall right underneath their foots - but they seem to not notice any of this, reaching their target which in fact is a king-sized bed Ryo spent on almost his whole monthly salary. Well, he liked luxury. Be it an apartment, food, men and women - and of course, evening entertainments.
Somehow, when he feels himself being pushed on his own bed, and soon the taller man hovering over him, Ryo has a hunch he’s not the one to dominate the whole situation. His more on a submissive side there, letting the other’s tongue slide past his mouth, not minding surprisingly strong hand clench around his shoulder, and almost welcoming the slim thigh brushing over his crotch. More than that, he actually enjoys this, that new form of intimacy he denied to acknowledge before. Why he does now, though? He has no idea. But then again, it’s not like it’s important. Not as long as that heat is right beside him, radiating out of the other one and embracing him despite all of the barriers.
“Say, Ryo,” the mans starts, licking his way down Ryo’s neck, sucking on a collarbone and moving further on the hot skin, fully exposed between his undone already shirt. “What do you like?” he asks then, words muffled a bit when his lips are touching Ryo’s body, slim but muscular in somehow delicate way, “And how do you like? Rough?” is the next question, followed by a small bite, leaving a red mark and thousands of shivers, “Or maybe gently?” come the next words right after that, with a slow lick of only the tip of his tongue, tracing the red mark of his earlier bite.
“Shouldn’t it be me asking you, all of this?” is Ryo’s reply, and he’s looking at his hip, the red and wet bite placed right above the band of his pants.
“It’s your evening, not mine.”
“But it’s me who’s going to top you, not the other way round,” he counters, lifting his hips just enough for the other one to tug at them and slide them down his legs. It should be embarrassing, intimidating, that nakedness of his while the taller man is still fully dressed - but it isn’t, not really, not in the way one could expect it to be.
“You sure?” he asks after a while, straightening up and taking a single step back, however not breaking the eye contact. His stare is intensive, heated, and sparkling with visible excitement, which isn’t really something Ryo expected to see in the eyes of someone, for whom situation like this is experienced on a daily basis, probably. But he doesn’t mind; not when those eyes don’t leave him while his whole body, slowly revealing itself from under the clothes, is screaming two obvious words - “take me!”.
Only that Ryo doesn’t really have the desire to take that body. Of course, he wants to claim him, to mark him and let him be his - even if only for that one night - but there is a lot bigger need to submit to him, let him take the control and show him the way to heaven, which Ryo is sure he knows by heart.
It’s painful, to watch him - his body which is perfect in all it’s dimensions - but not being able to touch him. He moves his hips like a dancer, and he smiles with a smile worth millions of dollars, the one Ryo could kill for. He’s everything he could possibly want - and need - now, everything he could think of and ask for. And when he comes back to him, when his naked body touches Ryo’s, and when he can feel his heat, he knows there is no turning back - neither for his spreading legs, soon closing around his thighs and pulling him closer, and for his rushed, slurred words, which oscillated somewhere between “take me” and “closer”.
And he does; he comes even closer, and he takes him - past his plump lips, deep into his mouth, sucking slowly with audible, wet sounds, and making this a pleasure not only for Ryo’s body, but his ears and eyes too. He’s hypnotized by the sight, and it’s probably the most alluring thing he had seen in a long time, eyes half-closed, cheeks hollowed and hair messy, partially falling onto his handsome face.
“Aren’t you curious?” comes the question some time later, when Ryo isn’t sure if he’s a normal human being anymore, feeling more like a undefined body crumbled into millions of pieces, every of them shaking on it’s own from the strong impact of the man’s mouth’s doings.
“About what?” he asks, not trusting his voice when it comes out more like a shaky breath with a meaning which the other one seemed to understand somehow.
“My name,” is the answer, when he smiles and licks off the mixture of saliva and Ryo’s pre-cum of his own lips, looking as if he’s savoring the unique taste. In that one, specific moment, Ryo is sure that if he wanted to, he’d be able to make anything look tasty and delicious. “You know already what can I make you to do and say, so wouldn’t it be nice to moan some actual words, names particularly, than incoherent things while I’m going to show you the whole new form of pleasure?”
Ryo doesn’t answer, the embarrassment striking him once again, but gladly, it’s soon washed off by the other’s voice, “It’s Tadayoshi.”
“And how am I supposed to moan this?” Ryo snorts momentarily, looking skeptical while recovering his usual, snarky self, even if just for a moment. “It’s too fucking long. And pathetic. It sounds like an old man’s name.”
“Then make it short,” he replies with simplicity, not really acknowledging the insult Ryo threw at him. “You seems to be quite a talker, so I’m sure you can come up with something that will easily roll off your tongue. It’s not like I care what you will call me,” he says, hovering over him again, leaning close to his ear and tracing the tip of his tongue along the edge of it’s shell. “I just want to get what I need, nothing else.”
Ryo grunts then; he’s not exactly sure how and when that Tadayoshi guy got his fingers coated in a cold, slick fluid, but he doesn’t mind when he pushes them past the ring of muscles, making Ryo lay back and close eyes in an instant, giving up on any comment he’s been having at the tip of his tongue, ready to be spit out.
He’s skilled; Ryo thinks, and it’s practically the only thing he can think about. Tadayoshi’s fingers, his presence, voice and gaze - everything about him is so mind-blowing, that he doesn’t even know if it’s possible for him to be real. If it’s possible to feel that good, to not have the slightest opposition to being submissive probably for the first time in his life. To being submissive in front of someone like him; and really, how low one can fall, when the whore you pay for, spreads your legs and prepares you for a senseless fuck you know you will enjoy…?
Ryo would laugh at himself, he really would - but he’s too busy moaning his lungs out when both of Tadayoshi’s long fingers hits that special spot inside him, the one which Ryo remembers hitting by himself so many times he had a man in his bed. He trashes on his bed, not knowing where to move and what to do to gain more of that intimate touch; but the other one doesn’t allow him to stay long in that state. He takes his hand back, briefly wiping the fingers in the white, fresh sheets on Ryo’s bed - and it’s really just a moment before he’s close again, making Ryo’s mind numb.
But it’s not only his mind that stays in this state - it’s his whole body when Tadayoshi, after skillfully rolling the condom on and coating himself with a scentless lubricant, presses himself into him slowly, holding Ryo’s hips firmly in place. Ryo lets out a needy moan at the action, lured between burning desire and hints of pain attacking him in one second and fading away in the next one. Tadayoshi waits a few moments before making an experimental thrust against him, rocking Ryo’s body forward with the strength of the movement, his head bumping lightly in the wooden headboard of his bed.
“God,” breaths out Ryo after the third time Tadayoshi rocks into him, the sensation, sound of skin slamming against skin and the view of the other one’s face relaxed into a sheer ecstasy, all of this being just too much to bear.
“Is this how you decided to call me?” the man asks, leaning in and stealing a deep kiss, hips never stopping it’s movements, hands never releasing it’s grip. “I like it. It suits me pretty well, huh?”
“Shut up. Just,” Ryo slams his lips against the other’s ones one last time, biting his lower lip softly, trying to regain at least a little bit of his usual, confident and independent self. “Just shut up and do your thing.”
And he does; oh, he does so well. His speed is slowly dying down for the sake of rising strength of every next thrust - and Tadayoshi drives into the other forcefully enough to make both of them dizzy - breath harder to catch and vision starting to blur - but not to bring any harm. The tip of his cock nudges Ryo’s prostate over and over again, which makes him cry and moan, and make all those noises Ryo has always despised, thinking of them as of not manly and definitely unsuitable for someone as masculine as him. But his pride doesn’t matter there and now, not when he’s living through the best sex in his life, giving himself in completely, relying on Tadayoshi without a second thought. It’s all about those fists clenching the white, now slightly damp sheets, about moans escaping their mouths, and about the pleasure too big to fit it in any of the existing words.
It’s only the matter of time, when Tadayoshi takes a hold of Ryo’s erection which is throbbing painfully and making him lose his mind completely - it’s only the matter of time, time measured with thrusts of hips and movements of hand, before Ryo comes with a name on his mouth, the one he claimed to be too long and definitely not suitable to be shouted out during an orgasm, the one that in the end comes out perfectly, rolling off his tongue easily - loudly but softly, the last syllable lost somewhere in his clenched throat.
Too lost in the intensive sensation, successfully fogging his mind, Ryo seems to not fully acknowledge the final thrusts of Tadayoshi’s hips, slower and even more intensive than all of the previous ones, skin clashing against skin with inhumanly strong force. It’s like he’s not entirely in his body, like his mind is sleeping, too worn out to produce any more coherent thoughts. He can concentrate only on the final feelings - stillness, soon followed by striking emptiness and unpleasant coldness, just to end with warmth seeping through him again, together with a hand encircling his waist.
*
Ryo wakes up the next morning, and it’s to the empty bed with the sheets completely messed up, being an evidence of the last night. For a few seconds he considers not getting up, deciding he doesn’t really want to think about all of this now, especially since the object of his one-night escapade seems to be absent - but then he sees a clothes on the floor, and no matter how sleepy he still is, he’s more than sure those are not his.
It’s thanks to his instincts - and ability to sense the smell of coffee anywhere at any time - that he’s in a kitchen just a few seconds later, standing face to face with the man of his dreams, and nightmares, and confusion, and everything really; the man who’s sipping the coffee, sitting comfortably on the chair. It feels weird, seeing a complete stranger in your own apartment, practically invading your privacy, but still being aware of the fact you can’t say it’s entirely wrong. Because somehow it feels just right, the slim silhouette in a small but bright kitchen, with a soft smile playing on his lips, matching the scene just perfectly.
“Morning,” he says, looking kind of irrational while sitting there with leg bent in a knee, resting his chin on it and staring at Ryo with still sleepy eyes; he must’ve woke up not so long ago. “I made more coffee, so just help yourself,” he nods at the coffee pot and the second, green mug standing on the table.
Ryo only murmurs in a reply, “Shouldn’t it be me who’s saying that,” but it’s not a question, more like a dubious statement, voiced out between one and another yawn. He takes his time in pouring the coffee and blowing at the steaming hot, only then sipping the dark black, strong liquid. “What are you still doing there, by the way?”
Tadayoshi stares at him for a few moments with an unreadable expression, and Ryo can’t quite grasp what is this about, when it suddenly comes to his mind at last, and before he can think about this, he smacks his forehead with hand, “That’s right! Money. I completely forgot. So how much will that small heaven cost me?”
It should feel awkward, and maybe it is, but he doesn’t really care about it anymore. What’s done is done, and there is no turning back now. Or at least that’s what he thought until the moment Tadayoshi starts laughing, and it’s nowhere near the soft, playful laughs he gave him last night. No, this time he just laughs, loudly and whole-heartedly, visible tears forming in his glassy eyes, and Ryo is nothing but a living confusion.
“I can’t believe I really managed to trick you into believing I’m a whore,” he says after a few long, too long as for Ryo, moments of trying to calm down. “But that must mean I’m just good with my seduction skills, isn’t it?”
Ryo doesn’t really know how to react and what to say, the whole situation quite irrational to him, and so the only word he manages to say is a simple, “What?”
Tadayoshi clicks his tongue, clearly amused, “I never said I’m a whore, or a prostitute, or that I take money for sexual services; it was your own finding. Which, I’m not really sad to admit, is false,” he explains, tracing the finger along the rim of his yellow mug. “Yes, my doings are similar to drug’s effects, but what I meant by saying this is that I’m just an incredibly good host,” Tadayoshi adds immodestly.
“A host,” Ryo repeats absent-mindedly, staring at him as if he has seen a ghost, not a person he lost his mind for just a few hours ago.
“That’s right,” he nods. “So just keep your money for our next meeting, will you? Because the next time, you’re taking me for a dinner, and I refuse to go to some cheap restaurant. I like fancy things. But you do too, as you proved last night,” he says smugly, “So I’m sure we’ll get along, Ryo-chan,” he ends, propping his head on a hand, slowly licking his lips in the way Ryo will never, ever, be able to forget.