(no subject)
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i finally have you
by . . . ourinteractive
IT WAS A LATE NIGHT when shooting wrapped. Two co-stars, bundled in their own ridiculous mountaineer-esque get-ups stumbled back into the lodge with plenty of adrenaline still pumping through their veins. The warmth of the fire, the low hum of the heat inside, melted the ice from their faces.
The snow had laid it on thick, still with little flurries in the cold dry night air. Perfect for shooting though. HYD Season 2 was coming to an end with plenty of drama, rescue and redemption. On this night, they had just wrapped the scenes of Domyouji flying out in a snowmobile to rescue Makino who had staggered out into the blizzard. A true hot-blooded scene.
Of course, it was all much more romantic than reality. Once inside the lodge, Mao removed her hat, and shook her head, letting the drops of melted snow fall from her lashes. She had spent the last one and a half hours lying in the snow, shouting “Yuki” in a variety of angles, and burrowing her body with Jun’s after standing outside for so many miserable takes. They did have some fun together however-throwing snow around, wrestling each other to the ground… but it was with great relief they were inside again, shooting wrapped up, the night free.
“I don't think I could ever be warm again,” she shivered and giggled, half-delirious. "And I thought it couldn't get worse than New York... what are these conditions..."
Her co-star sauntered in behind her, removing the yellow parka that draped his shoulders. The fire that was crackling in the lobby drew them both in. They stood in front of it, trying however they could to absorb the warmth into their bodies.
“If we burned the whole place down now, it still wouldn’t be enough,” he added. They both stood with their hands outstretched toward the weak flame.
“You’re right,” Mao breathed out in broken gasps, as if her lungs were frozen themselves. “What I need… is… a bath…”
“A bath?” He asked incredulously, smiling. “That’s the warmest thing you can think of, really? Warmer than literal sparks catching a house on fire.”
“Doesn’t a bath sound nice?” She nudged him with her body leaning in.
“It does, yea,” he admitted.
“A bath with bubbles,” she said dreamily. “I wanna eat soup as I take a bath.”
Jun suppressed a laugh. She was an utter child. “Are you sure you’re not just hungry?” In fact, he himself was famished. After a full day of on-set interviews and then strenuous movement in freezing conditions, he was ready to drink some sake, take a hot shower, and collapse into bed. Luckily they were all staying at the lodge which served as their primary filming location.
“Cold, tired, and hungry. What do we do?” Mao whined with her eyes closed.
“Alright, food then,” Jun answered. His eyes twinkled as he turned to Mao. “The usual?” Meaning their slovenly yet deliriously comfortable nighttime routine of sake and cup ramen noodles.
Mao grinned a wide smile. “Ahhh, only Jun understands me. What would I do without you?"
"Starve. Or... eat alone." He grinned.
"No, it feels extra good when you're doing it with someone else. Like you look less pathetic eating cup ramen with someone else." Mao laughed, pleading. "Hey, right??"
"Please, I look pretty fantastic eating ramen alone."
"Okay, I'm actually going to eat alone in my bathtub now--" Mao countered. "Please rescue me from myself."
"Why am I always doing the rescuing? Maybe you should start doing less sad-pathetic looking things." He grinned.
"Please, oh my god, don't be cruel when I'm hungry right now. I have two bowls of ramen.” She batted her eyes, tempting him.
“And I have sake and two cups. Very convenient, very lucky for you.” Jun replied. “Your room or mine?”
“Hmmm, yours, twenty minutes?” Mao said. She removed the scarf from her neck. “I'm going to change first and wash my face.”
“Alright,” Jun said. He lifted a hand up casually to Mao’s reach and she punched him playfully with a loosely clenched fist. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”
"Then why were you denying me in the first place?" Mao laughed, finding this man impossible at times. Or rather, she just fell into his web too easily.
"I never denied; only wanted to point out again how sad this ritual is."
“Hai, hai,” Mao sing-songed. "Commencing sad ritual in 20 minutes!" The two parted ways by the fire.
It was a little ritual for them, a bit funny-looking and not at all enjoyable-seeming to anyone else. Most of the time after evening shoots, they either dined with Shun somewhere simple or prepared bento boxes with a few members of the crew. On rare nights when they had time and energy, they would even go out for drinks. But increasingly, Mao and Jun had fallen into a ritual of eating ramen cup noodles and drinking beer or sake-just the two of them. It wasn’t as if they intended to exclude everyone else. It became more of a convenience because often, they were the only two left on set after a day of shooting.
In her suite, Mao ruffled and smoothed her hair back. It had been frayed by an entire night of horsing around. She slipped her coat and sweater from her body and tossed them to her bed, humming a little tune. Her snow-pants came off next.
As she bent down in her bra and panties, flipping through her suitcase to find her oversized Snoopy t-shirt, her eyes caught the camisole she had packed thoughtlessly… a pale cotton little slip that went just above her knees, with delicate white shoulder straps.
Mao paused and sat down on the floor, slowly pulling out the little sleep dress. Her face went bright red even though she was alone, mind recollecting the thoughts she had when she stuffed this little garment into her sleepaway a few nights ago.
“Baka,” she shook her head at herself.
Inoue Mao was never “sexy” by anyone’s perception. She felt that very palpably even on set and understood it was in good humor. But whenever she was teased for wearing a touch of makeup or if she wanted to try on a strapless gown for Hanadan press, the boys were relentless. And Mao laughed along, embarrassed, but she wondered if one day she couldn’t walk down the stairs in high heels and a little black dress and knock the wind out of them.
Honestly, she and Jun had grown quite close over shooting. They shared that familial chiding relationship, one with lots of “inadvertent” skinship and little knowing looks. Sometimes, she’d even collapse into his arms, feigning exasperation with particularly difficult scenes they had just shot. For someone who was hated being touched, Jun had an infallible receptivity towards her. And their closeness sprouted very naturally and effortlessly, to the point where Mao would catch herself thinking about Jun in very hot-blooded and stormy ways. Like the seed of a crush had been planted in her heart and it would catch sparks each time he laughed at her, called her cute, grabbed her wrist…
Mao recalled all the different nights when she and F4 would sit around in baggy after-work clothes… she often wore her oversized Snoopy shirt and a pair of glasses, hair tucked messily up. She ruminated for a second, growing somehow a bit agitated and stood up abruptly. Letting a huff escape her mouth, she grabbed the pastel camisole from her bag and slipped it over her head. She was a woman, dammit. She can pull off sexy and smart and cute interchangeably, whenever her heart desired. With a nod, Mao grabbed her room key, two plastic bowls of ramen from the suite’s cupboard, and departed for Jun’s room.
……
In Jun’s suite, a few hallways down from Mao’s, the tall curly-haired man had also changed into more comfortable clothes. He had switched on the stereo which was playing a soft melody of bossa nova guitar strumming from some unknown indie station. It’ll do, he decided nonchalantly. Now in a white v-neck shirt and gray sweatpants, he sauntered into the kitchen area and removed two glasses and a fresh bottle of sake-an assistant must have freshly stocked Jun’s alcohol. It was an unspoken understanding that Matsujun was a gregarious drinker and loved to have friends over to dine and wine.
Lately when it had just been him and Mao alone in the evening eating dinner and sharing some wine or beer, the crew would chide him very subtly the next morning. “Morning you two!” Even if they had walked in together as total coincidence-not the result of any sleepover-it just seemed natural to assume they were a little unit, a pair of companions-Jun and Mao.
There was a cursory knock on the wooden door which was already cracked open. Mao’s smiling face beamed from the crack and she opened it just slightly to slip inside, closing it which clicked with a lock. “Delivery’s here~” She held out the ramen.
“Alright, there’s hot water in the kett-“ Jun answered absentmindedly before turning around to lock into a gaze with Mao. There she stood, short little slip and all, thin little straps betraying her small shoulder and collar bones. She stood with a bit of a nervous-almost-expectant smile on her face. A bout of silence followed.
Followed by a laugh. He had to put the sake on the coffee table to stand up and gave her a once-over. “What are you wearing?” Jun’s thick brows crinkled into amusement.
"What?" Mao practically croaked in embarrassment. She tugged at the bottom of her slip, wishing it was longer suddenly. “Why?? Is something funny?” Her nose was crinkled and turned bright pink. She felt naked and defensive.
“Nope… nothing funny here,” Jun answered, unable to avert his stare. It wasn’t a gawking enchantment either. Just a twinkle in his eye that appeared to have seen something out-of-place. “Where’s Snoopy tonight though?”
“You guys always do this!” Mao protested but placed both bowls of ramen on the table as she reached for the kettle of hot water. “Why does everyone act so weird when I’m not wearing something shapeless or baggy? Only Tonton ever compliments me, and even then, he just thinks I’m a 12-year old.” Her lips pursed into a pout and this made her look even more like a child.
“What are you talking about?” Jun teased still smiling. “We compliment you all the time… remember when Shun said your face was very round and soft lately?”
“Chotto!” Mao couldn’t resist laughing herself and she swatted Jun’s arm as they both sat down on the soft carpet against the coffee-table. Swirls of steam rose from their ramen and Jun poured them two glasses of chilled sake. He was laughing with her.
“You look very cute, Mao.” Jun said in an almost-serious voice. “Even if it is the middle of winter, out-of-place, and looks crazy uncomfortable.” He grinned.
“Seriously annoying…” She swatted his arm again playfully. Oh well, that was the nicest reaction she would get outta him. Her Jun, as merciless as ever.
….
By the time they finished eating, and eating cheap night-food was their favorite, they were also working on their second bottle of sake. Jun and Mao both had a high tolerance and only when the second porcelain bottle was popped open did the liquid warmth begin trickling into their veins. It all felt so wonderful and comfortable. The dim light in the room, the soft bossa nova music, and the wisps of snow falling outside created a Christmas-like vibe. Mao noticed this and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey, what are your Christmas plans?” Mao asked, sipping from her white cup. She was leaning against the bed as both still sat on the floor.
"Christmas?" Jun almost laughed. He was a few feet from her, his left hand planted in the carpet leaning back, his right cradling his own cup of sake. “Well, as we literally just celebrated Valentine’s Day, I assume you’re talking about the Christmas that’s 10 months from now, so…. Yep, working.”
“Don’t just say ‘working’ like that’s your natural response! I mean doesn’t it feel like Christmas?” Mao giggled, tossing her hair back. “You know? The sake, the snow outside, this gorgeous cabin… and we never even got to celebrate proper Christmas.”
“What about our Christmas dinner in New York?”
“Yea but,” she complained. “It was too cold."
“Did you just negate Christmas because it’s too cold? Does it work like that?” Jun asked smiling.
“Christmas should be warm! Like sitting in front of a fire opening presents and roasting chestnuts kind-of-thing!” Mao shook her head and laughed. “Ok, next Christmas, we’ll get a cabin, get Shun-kun and Toma-kun and Arashi and we’ll throw a party with lots of sake.”
“But I’ll be working,” Jun added. “Probably on another drama. With my new fun co-stars so we’ll probably celebrate Christmas with our own private party.” He was basically grinning, shuffling to lean closer to her, almost chiding her with his response.
“Nehhhh, stop it,” Mao gave an impish groan, “I’m already missing Hanadan and you’ve moved on with your new co-stars already! I can’t believe this-“
“It won’t be anything like Hanadan. How could I replace you guys?” He sipped his sake.
“Will your co-star be cooler than me?” Mao asked. “Are you going to be better friends with her?”
“No way,” he joked in fake-earnest. “I mean, you wear cool stuff like that.” He nodded at her pale camisole which was almost shapelessly shifting against her body. She looked nice, he could admit it in his head… but she was always much cuter in a baggy T-shirt and glasses.
“I’m seriously only going to wear potato-sacks from now on!” Mao protested, swatting an arm at him, pushing his shoulder away from her. “That way I can escape this abuse!”
“You really think it’s abuse?”
“It’s 100% malicious intent.”
“No, I mean…” he said. “You really think we just see you as a 12-year old?”
“Not even a 12-year old girl.” She chuckled.
“Oh come on, you’re definitely a girl.”
Mao lifted her head to stare at him. Their eyes met in a hot flash and she suddenly adjusted herself more modestly, having felt the strap of her bra slip around her shoulders. He noticed her small shift too and sipped a long taste from his cup.
“To be honest…” Mao brought the cup to her mouth and nibbled on the side. “I… I’m-“
“Actually a boy?”
“Abuse!” she couldn’t help but laugh and kneeled on her knees, trying to grab his wrists with her flailing hands in the air, one hand still clutching her cup. He met her swings with his own hands, “hai, hai,” he answered, taking the cup from her hand which threatened to spill over him. “I promise to celebrate Christmas with you next year, how bout that? And I won’t laugh if you wear a frilly pink dress.”
Mao was still kneeling, peering at him with a clenched pout, her wrists caught in his warm hands. His left hand expertly clutched both her bony wrist and sake cup. Ah, he smelled like sake. That mix of warm and cool, that sharp sweetness of a sour plum. Even his grip on her drew her in. She withdrew from him and leaned back against the bed, hair spilling around her bare shoulders.
Jun sipped from her cup. His own was empty. And somehow he felt a bit paralyzed. Like if he leaned forward to refill it, it would break the deep concentration he was in. The sake touched his tongue like a zap, its liquid warmth filling his chest. Jun was barely able to break the spell when he leaned forward to refill both their almost empty cups when Mao spoke:
“A pink frilly dress, my Eitoku uniform, or this?” her voice was soft and teasing. They were both feeling the alcohol.
Jun gave her a puzzled look. He had the ability to look sultry however he was feeling.
“Come on, seriously. At this point, I’ve no clue what looks good on me anymore.”
Jun handed her her cup and he sipped on his. He gave it a thought. There was a silly little amused expression he wore very tightly on his lips.
“Well… no to the frilly pink dress.” When he saw a flicker of protest in her eyes, he kept going. “By that I mean, you’d look unnatural if you were too girly. But that’s why we like you-you’re not obsessed with how you look and you’re not high-maintenance.”
“Is that a back-handed way to say I’m not pretty?” A sweet laugh.
“C’mon, Mao.” Jun didn’t like it when his co-star did this… Mao very simply and naturally assumed that because she was teased all the time that he and Shun and Tonton and Shota found her sexless. But in reality, she was brightest when she wore slacks and tennis shoes, when she jumps head first into the grass to wrestle with puppies, when she waltzed onto the set each morning, her only accessories a big thermos of soup-her breakfast. “These things aren’t insults, you know? It’s just a matter of what suits someone, what makes them beautiful in their own way.”
“Hhhhuuu,” Mao giggled. She found it funny when Jun got serious. “Okay, Matsujun-sama, how come you look good in everything?”
“Please.” He almost rolled his eyes. “Are you an Arashi fangirl now?”
“Well what am I supposed to do if there’s Junbait in front of me?” she teased him and downed half her cup of sake.
“Oi, keep it in your pants.” He sipped his too.
“What about my Eitoku uniform?”
Jun’s eyes traveled to the ceiling as if in deep thought. “Hmm, right. Your Eitoku uniform looks best.”
“Ehh? What the heck is this?” Mao said. “Seriously…”
“I’m being serious!” He protested.
“I look so short-I look so normal in it.”
“You look great in it.”
“You’re just used to me in it. I’m not Makino or Mao unless I’m in it.” Mao shook her head smiling.
“That’s not it.” He added before shutting up. Mao leaned towards him playfully, almost swinging her shoulders at Jun, who was cute when he was trying to be nice to her. Her eyes dared him to continue… she was waiting for a ridiculous remark to come out of his mouth.
“I was just thinking… every time we’ve had to kiss on set of Hanadan… well, I think every time, you’ve never been in your Eitoku uniform. It’s always a big dress or some cute outfit, but that just seems weird-like I’m kissing someone else.”
Mao paused, wondering if she was hearing his correctly.
“So, I mean,” he faltered, but not without confidence. “I’m not sure why I want to kiss you when you’re in your uniform. Maybe because I’ve never done it… I think the idea is nice, you know? Domyouji and Makino, walking the hallways of Eitoku, being a casual, open couple. Holding hands and sharing kisses.”
“Oh my god… wow, that almost took my breath away.” Mao blinked, mouth agape.
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes.
“Honto…!” She said. “I didn’t know that was even a thought in your head. It’s really cute… romantic, really!”
“It’s called ‘putting yourself in the shoes of your character,’” Jun said. He ran a hand through his curly hair. “What would Domyouji want? What would the annoying Makino want?”
“Ok, so kiss me.” Mao said, feeling the drunk hit her face.
“What are you saying, baka?” He chuckled.
“Makino wants to be kissed-she wants Domyouji not to see her as an innocent girl in a school uniform.”
“I hardly think a school girl’s uniform is innocen-“
His words were cut off suddenly as Jun felt the fell swoop of her body press against his chest, her body leaning forward from where she was leaning to close the gap between their warm bodies. Their lips met very delicately, very sweetly, a taste of metallic and alcohol, of a tart honey. His left hand instinctively put down the cup of sake he was holding and leaned back, feeling her weight.
Mao pulled away at last, her breath a bit hitched. When she blinked and Jun peered into her eyes, almost asking what-was-that, he could hardly suppress his own exhale, as if his own breath was stolen away…
Mao had to break the mood with a soft shy laugh. She was blushing… a strap of her camisole was lying limply against her shoulder.
“Oh god, Jun-I’m sorry-it must be the sake…” She lifted a hand to her forehead, feeling how hot she was.
But he reached up to gently take her wrist. Mao blinked in surprise, feeling his grasp on her. He was staring… staring very seriously now. There was no nonchalance, no hint of joking in his eyes. They were fixed on her. Not as Domyouji but as Jun.
He drew her wrist to him, in turn pulling her forward to feel her breath on his face, to practically feel the blood plumping faster and faster beneath the thin skin on her soft wrist. When he felt her eyelashes on his face and Mao close her eyes, he crashed his lips against hers, feeling her surrender instantly.
They were enmeshed together, lip to lip, tongue grazing each other, tasting their familiarity, the power of their sex. Her body was pressed against him now-Mao just kneeling upwards a tiny bit on her knees, kneeling against his broad chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and her back, bringing her even closer. In their wrestle, her bra clasps came undone, and she shifted, allowing them to slide down her body.
His hand came forward and grazed her chest just slightly, but he felt her pert nipple between his palms and suddenly breathed out in a bit of a half-moan. She dug her face in his neck, planting pecks up and down…
“Is this okay?” He had to ask in a whisper. His eyes were so intense… his cheeks so high, face so stormy.
Mao nodded softly, heart pounding. She felt the desire to shake her head vigorously as if to wake up from a dream… but every ache in her was throbbing, filled with a sudden and overwhelming desire to be touched by Jun. Her Jun. His handsome face was unlike any photo of him plastered in modeling magazines, in Hanadan press… it wasn’t the proud sneer of Tsukasa or the restrained knowing look of Arashi’s Matsujun… it was something altogether different, powerful, intimate.
Mao had a new glow to her too, a soft, warmth in her eyes and face. Her slender hands found their way to the back of his neck, feeling his soft curly strands, bringing their faces closer…
He found himself kneeling upwards too as he kissed her passionately, bringing her to stand up pressed against his tall body… they moved in some senseless direction, too distracted, and Mao felt her thighs bump against the oak dresser behind them. She gave a small yelp as she felt Jun’s hip bone smash against hers. He was practically eating up her neck and her eyes widened when she felt it just very blatantly nestle its hard long length against her thigh. She shivered in delight. He moaned, feeling himself grow rigid between his legs… to be honest, he was already semi-hard when they had been teasing each other sitting on the ground. He did his best to hide it-but now he was surprised at how hard he was getting. His cock strained against the fabric of his sweats.
Their breathing grew more and more irregular with each kiss before Jun suddenly lifted her onto the dresser, his warm fingers on her thighs as she straddled him. He dug his face into her collarbone, planting little kisses on her cool skin.
She rolled her head back, loving the feel and of his hands on either side of her thighs, smelling his curly hair in her face, a simple clean scent of soap and cologne. His hands slid up and down her thighs, warming up her body.
When he lifted his head away from her collar, she brought both her hands to clasp at his crisp white shirt, running her hands down his chest. Then she began to lift it from his body and he quickly helped her-pulled off from the back, the shirt fell to the floor revealing his slender yet somehow defined chest, broad like a swimmer’s. His skin was still cold to the touch underneath-like pelts of snow had just freshly melted away… or maybe the chill of contact had paralyzed him… she buried her face in him, kissing him slightly, gently…
He hugged her, running his hands down her back, burying his face back into her neck. Jun then peeled the cotton straps from her shoulders, then tugged the whole dress down. It slid down her body along with her undone bra, revealing her pert breasts, and slender waist. She had a shy smile on her face. She was still so much younger than Jun.
He kissed her lips with fervent vigor, feeling her soft skin against his. His mouth gradually traveled down her neck, onto her chest, tongue dancing on her erect nipples. She mewed in response, feeling the softness of his tongue arousing her desire. She was wet, completely wet, and she wanted him desperately in that moment.
“Mao,” Jun nearly moaned, looking up at her, his arms holding her so tightly. He wanted her to be his, so completely his, a mix of love and lust filling his dark eyes. It felt impossible. Impossible that they had just been teasing each other with jokes an hour ago, playfully hitting each other, flirting, and now were so starkly in the throes of desire… the thought of it made him hot.
She stared into his eyes in response. Her cheeks were red, warm, her eyes too brimming with desire. She licked her lips but could barely mutter his name with a soft mew.
He moved his hands toward her breasts, cupping them and fondling them. He felt his own erection straining against his sweats. It was rock-hard, growing, somehow getting harder with every lick and kiss and nibble, pulsating against her inner thigh.
Mao felt him throb beneath his pants against her soft skin. So foreign, yet somehow familiar. Their passion rubbing against each other… she had to bite her lip to tell herself it was really happening. Oh my god… it’s Jun… Jun’s pressed up against me right now. Their relationship flashed before her eyes-like every modicum of desire she had ever felt was now pooling very swiftly into her body, her slender frame, filling her heart with a powerful chemical that felt like love.
Jun took her by the nape of her neck and tilted her lips upward so that he could lean down and kiss her with the force of his tongue burrowing into her mouth. She could taste the sake and scent of him. Salty, sweet, hot…
Her hands found their way to Jun’s waistband, tugging at the cotton drawstring. She fiddled with them while their kiss deepened. Jun practically groaned into her mouth, bucking his hips against her unconsciously, daring her to continue. He was so hard, he felt like between his legs grew a literal rod. He wanted his cock to spring free-to meet the warmth of her soft, small hands.
She teased him. Her own tongue in his mouth tasted like alcohol and candy. As his embrace deepened, Mao’s fingers pulled down the waistband of his gray sweatpants and boxer briefs ever-so-slightly, just enough to let the tip of his cock hit the exposed air. He let out a deep breath, wanting to just tear his pants down himself, to expose everything at once.
But Mao was slow and languid, though not immune to the rising passion in her chest, her groin, and every pulse that ripped through her body. When she pulled his pants down completely, his cock sprang into her grasp, and he moaned deeply. She felt the hot beads of pre-cum on his tip. Even this was unlike any pleasure she knew.
“Jun… you’re wet,” she whispered.
“That’s…my line,” Jun almost laughed, his voice guttural and soft. He wore his signature smile, his thick brows narrowed in a sexy-look of desire. With no time to spare, his hands found their way down her legs too, and he toyed with the soft cotton panties that separated his hardness from her warmth. He felt her breathing grow irregular as he rubbed one index finger against her wetness, a kind of damp warmth even over the cloth.
“J-Jun,” she couldn’t even croak what she wanted. Him, his fingers, his sweaty abdomen against her, contact...
And then, his fingers were suddenly underneath her panties, feeling that velvet softness in his grasp, wet and warm. She opened her mouth as if hit in the stomach, and let out a broken mew, then clenched her eyes shut. How long had it been since she touched herself? All those nights in bed, feeling some kind of nondescript desire in her being, picturing the strong arms of a man hold her… she couldn’t remember when Jun’s face first flashed in her fantasy. It gave her such a sense of forbidden lust… and she never gave a hint about it to anyone. And yet, the fulfillment of her fantasy did not feel strange or foreign at all. It was like two long-lost lovers reuniting after a long separation to grow reacquainted with each other’s touch.
But now, his long fingers against her felt like nothing she imagined. Because here he was, breathing, groaning, with his scent and saliva, very real against her body. His fingers traced a trail against her clit and her feet arched. The tip of his index finger than prodded her entrance, pressing very softly at it, teasing her and then slowing sliding in.
She gasped, throwing her arms around his neck, feeling him penetrate her if she belonged to him. He broke from her embrace to meet her eyes, his own lips pursed, completely focused on her. Mao did not shy away-her eyes locked on him and she removed one hand from his back to slowly stroke his cock, with two fingers at first, then four… her thin digits teasing his sensitive skin, feeling it throb against even her light touch.
And here they were, pleasuring each other, teasing, frantic, as if they were forbidden lovers. Matsumoto Jun and Inoue Mao, co-stars and star-crossed lovers… a Johnny’s idol and a rising actress… he was bent over her with her legs wrapped around him, leaning against her, feeling her softness and familiarity… and she was arching towards him-her Jun-the man who made her feel so secure and happy with every remark, every joke, every rehearsed line.
“Mao, I need to be in you,” Jun practically croaked, unable to hold out much longer. “Is that what you want?” Even now, he was so protective. His bulging cock threatened to release itself into her strokes, which he felt more and more unable to resist. He was so hard, he couldn’t even imagine what the release would feel like anymore. Mao groaned in response; a sexy affirmation, a small and feminine little mew, like expelled air.
His finger which had been sliding in and out of her now expertly and swiftly tug her panties down, down her legs, past her ankles. He did so gracefully, tearing himself away from her soft strokes for an agonizing moment, and discarded the violet-colored panties onto the ground. His heart was beating as was hers.
Jun’s own sweats also hit the floor after she deftly pulled them down, their naked skin facing each other. Her clit, swollen and red, almost dripping waiting for his perfect, hard cock. He stood closer to her, planting kisses against her neck once more, feeling his member press against her inner thigh. Mao planted her hands on the dresser, propping herself forward. They were locked in quiet, teasing kisses, each one daring the other to make a move… each time they made contact-his hard length rubbing against her clit and entrance, they moaned. Every muscle on his body rippled and tensed, as if all the building tension was rushing into his hard member, daring its release.
Soon, he was just rubbing up and down against her wetness, and he knew he had the advantage. Just feeling her small body tense against his embrace, hearing the broken breaths that escaped her mouth, and relishing in the trails of wetness that covered his penis as it grazed her opening, he suddenly felt an immediate need to dominate her. He wanted to ravage her, to throw her onto the floor of the Hana Yori Dango set and take her, covering her mouth, hearing her suppressed screams of pleasure… how he had fantasized about it. All those times they pretended to be just friends to the media, all the little sly grins and prods, all that extra contact… it was obvious how much they longed for each other.
Jun positioned himself against her, his right hand holding his hard long cock against her clit. He plunged forward just slightly, enough for his head to push apart the lips of her opening. Mao whimpered at the sudden pressure… and Jun, panting just slightly, then rested his left hand against her waist and using his right hand, guided himself entirely and fully into her with one smooth stroke. His arms enveloped her immediately after his full entrance and he listened to her sharp moan as he began to rock himself in. His cock was so hard, it had practically begun to grow roots inside her.
Jun rocked his hips slowly and her legs positioned themselves around him to adjust to the rhythm. He felt so impossibly big, so hard inside her, like a rod sliding in and out. Neither barely had any time to think about condoms in that moment… it was a straight minute from clothes off to penetration it seemed-but Mao trusted him. She felt safe. He was so diligent after all. And that was doubly the joy of seeing him completely lose control, suddenly taken over by his testosterone.
He embraced her and then with a quick grunt lifted her from the dresser. She let out a soft yelp, but kept her arms around his shoulders as he carried her to the bed as he slipped out of her for a second. Placing her softly against the edge, they laid down, him on top of her. She spread her legs out, letting him dictate the pace once more as he pulled off her camisole and bra with one swift movement over her head… He braced himself against her naked body.
It was like liquid pleasure rocking against her. She felt him as he entered her again, his cock still bouncing against her soft clit and rubbing against her with enough friction to set her body on fire. He kissed her aggressively, running his hands through her thick jet-black hair and Mao’s own fingers digging into his back. His sharp hip-bone smashed against hers, establishing a slow rhythm. He had to slow down after all… if he wanted, he could come right now into her velvet warmth. But he was Matsumoto Jun-a man of composure and class, of restraint and control. And what he wanted was to watch the pleasure slowing rise in her face.
“You feel-” Jun clenched his teeth, thick brows almost glaring, eyes closed. His penis slid in and out, in and out, a trail of wetness between their skin. “Fuck. Amazing.”
“Jun-” was all Mao could muster as response, their bodies slapping against each other. Their hands entwined. He was pinning her down to stabilize their movements, as she had begun to meet his thrusts with her own vigor.
Jun lifted his body upwards with her’s still against the bed. He was almost standing, or kneeling, upright, staring at her slender thin body beneath his. He had a look of total dominance in his expression. His eyes glowed, and he smirked, rolling his abdomen only an Arashi member could. Like dancing, only with his cock deeply entrenched in her, he moved in and out, in and out, her tight wetness swallowing him whole.
Mao arched against him, her arms spread on the bed, bracing herself against his movement.
“Mao,” he groaned in broken gasps, “I want… every bit… of you… I don’t want anyone else... to have you.” he licked his lips and looked like a greedy child.
Mao almost giggled, her voice reverberating to the pulses of his thrusts, his hardness sliding in and out. “I’m yours-but how could Arashi’s Matsujun… ever be mine?" her words came out in whimpers.
“I am yours-“ he whispered in groans. “Whatever you want from me… Mao, I’m only yours.”
Their words seemed so sudden and serious for how quickly this had escalated… but yet they sounded so natural. They came from two people who had loved each other forever, deftly joined together now, wanting to promise the world to each other.
Jun’s thrusts grew more and more erratic. At first, he wanted a slow control and finish. But gradually as she began to tweak her nipples, staring into his pained expression, he felt his own hips buckle and lose all restraint. He wanted to coat her insides completely, to plant himself in her and never leave her. She was practically motionless now on the bed, letting him dominate her with hard and deliberate thrusts. His hips moved faster and faster in smooth movement.
“Ah, Jun-!” she could barely suppress a cry as she felt the hard head of his cock stroke her G-spot, expertly spreading the fiction against the rough skin, smelling his sweat against her body.
Like a pulsating warmth that overtook her from her hot face to the rest of her body, she opened her mouth in an involuntary spasm and a wave of pleasure rocked her core, slowly, intermittently, but then completely like a release that felt like she was emptying every drop of wetness onto his cock. She moaned, groaned in her soft mews, toes arched and taking every bit of him…
Seeing her expression of pleasure, he was biting his lips and almost unable to help himself. But no, he would not come until he witnessed every last bit of pleasure quiver from her body. But the flush wetness that squeezed his cock from her orgasm was astounding. He braced himself with both hands rested around her waist, leaning forward to give him a deeper plunge, rotating every angle of his hard rod inside of her. Her whimpers matched the rhythm of his movement…
“I’m gonna pull out,” he suddenly declared, a small bead of sweat collecting above his brow.
Mao nodded softly, feeling like a doll in his grasp, motionless and throttled, his hardness on the verge of explosion.
Jun leaned back and then jerked suddenly in a spasm, his mouth like “o’s” and it was like he lost control of his own body. He intended to pull out, but his own cock inside her refused, sucked in by her warmth. And in a quick second, he moaned, feeling the painful hardness of his groin completely spasm and lose control, its juices violently releasing…
He remembered once, after a long tour with a show each night, the band finally had one night off to themselves in Osaka. And Jun, a lusty teenager, had escaped to a bathroom stall in a public bathhouse… how he had wrapped his hands around his hard member after days of no-privacy to masturbate freely… he remembered how he moaned involuntarily, feeling a hot jet-stream of cum spurt from his hard cock, hitting the wall of the bathroom stall after only 30 seconds of stroking himself. This kind of forceful release he never experienced again… until this moment.
But he very forcefully also regained control of himself and pulled his hips from out against her, falling forward with his climax against her stomach. His cock was still straining, releasing itself in short spasms, the pleasure gushing out continuously. She gasped, watching himself, watching his eyes squint in pure ecstasy and lips clench in agony as he spilled himself onto her belly. Hot, sticky, white streams of it.
They were both breathing heavily in a pure daze. Dampness on their warm bodies with the music of the indie station now playing jazz piano. The snow outside seemed to fall even harder.
…..
“Oh my god.” Mao said with a strong sense of finality. She resisted an urge to grin like crazy at the sheer craziness of what just happened.
But he beat her to it and let out a guttural sort of laugh, his lips stretching into a wide smile. “Shit.”
“Why are you laughing?” Mao had to laugh now, placing her hand on his shoulder. She laid still with her back still on the bed, unable to move as his released pleasure pooled in the center of her belly. Unbelievable… pure fantasy! Was she in reality?
“Isn’t this funny-no, incredible?” Jun smiled and he leaned back toward the nightstand and retrieved a matte tissue box. Both pulled out some tissue and wiped themselves down. It was pretty ineffectual until Jun went into the bathroom to bring Mao a towel.
“Oh my god,” was all Mao could repeat, cleaning herself off. Her grin was so wide, cheeks glowing and she was utterly silent for a minute before something so comical just occurred to her. “Did Matsujun from Arashi just come all over me?” It was a teasing remark.
“Hey, don’t make me feel like I just violated a fangirl-“ Jun went to the floor and retrieved his boxer briefs and her camisole. He put them on and she too slipped the soft cotton back over her shoulders, no bra, no panties.
Mao blushed wildly, rolling on the bed and suddenly wrapped the blanket around herself. They were both so shaken yet so bemused at the same time. But there was no awkwardness, no timidity in their new intimacy. Jun watched her with a “what-are-you-doing-now-baka” stare and felt the corners of his mouth turn upright.
“Mao…” Jun said, crawling into the covers next to her. Exhaustion and the sake wearing off made them both suddenly so lethargic. He felt the strongest desire to hold her deeply in his arms.
“That wasn’t just the sake, right?” Mao asked. She rolled against Jun’s bare chest. “Matsumoto-san… Jun-kun… don’t tell me you took advantage of me just now.”
“How are you still joking at a time like this?” Jun smiled. He wrapped his broad arms around her, bringing her closer to him. Their new skin-contact was different. It wasn’t sparks electrifying them but a slow languid warmth that melted their cores together.
“There’s no joke?”
“Absolutely none.”
“Okay.” She breathed out. “I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out I made this whole thing up after getting drunk… like throwing myself at you.”
“Same. I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow to wild accusations that an Arashi member assaulted his co-star,” Jun smiled.
“I’m just in shock,” Mao admitted softly, laughing. “I didn’t know… you liked me so much.” It was said in a joking way too.
“Of course I like you. I like you more than I like most people.” He chuckled, matching her tone.
“Okay… I just want to establish… that we like each other,” she said. “People who like each other do this-and they respect each other. And then they don't get weird and stop being friends or talking to each other."
“What are you saying? Is that what you were gonna do?" Jun asked, eyes growing wide wanting to scold her. She could be so obtuse, so oblivious. "Stop being friends with me?"
“No, of course not! I just don't want you to get all Arashi-god-like and decide you can't hang around me anymore. Y'know, industry stuff."
Jun jabbed her sides and she giggled. "Oi. You think that's how my personal life works?"
Mao grinned widely at him. She remained quiet for a second. "Am I a part of your personal life now?"
"You were, ever since I started liking you."
Mao's eyes bulged. She looked up at Jun, her chin resting against his chest. "You do?" Again, what a kid.
“Mao, you really are cute. Sexy. And I do like you. Baka, start reading the hints, okay? You're too much to deal with.” Jun chuckled and pet her head, closing his eyes. He said this light-heartedly, but Mao could feel something like a shift in both of them. A kind of intractable flame finally dimming into something warm, sustainable... They held each other in a mess of blankets. It felt like Christmas outside.
“Jun... let’s just stay like this. For awhile.”
Jun smiled. She closed her eyes, and he his, feeling sleep spread across their bodies like the shadow of sunset. “Awhile” was open to interpretation.
xx end xx
a/n: This turned out so much longer than I thought it would. I hope my dialogue wasn’t too much in the beginning-I wanted to establish an intimate, flirty, when-will-they-consummate-their-relationship?!?! sort of feeling. Of course, it’s also largely a discourse on their relationship in a platonic sense too. The smut just got in the way cuz I really really wanted there to be smut. Appreciate your feedback!