[Fanfiction] Blood Loss
Title: Blood Loss
Author: RayAnneliese [CrescentRay]
Characters/Pairings: Shirota Yuu x Aiba Hiroki, Matsuzaka Tori
Genre: Romance, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Shirota tries to control himself while watching Aiba prance on stage.
Warnings: Not worksafe. At all.
Shirota Yuu thought he was going to die from excessive blood loss.
He knew that his lover had switched talent agents, to TOPCOAT, and he had been assured by Aiba himself that, no, it wasn't because Matsukaza-san was under them. However, Aiba always warned Shirota from coming to pick him up at the TOPCOAT building, or where ever they were currently filming or having an event, and it irked Shirota.
But one day, the petite brunette had come skipping back to their apartment and handed him a sleek black and gold ticket, kissed him on the lips gently and proceeding on to their bathroom to take a shower. Curious as to what the ticket was for, Shirota followed his lover, and from there, things got, uh, out of hand.
He grinned at the memory.
HOWEVER.
That did not explain why his lover was currently prancing around, dancing to some song that was sang by girls with irritatingly high and squeaky voices, wearing a blouse that was too short for him and a skirt.
A skirt.
The blouse was black and made of some satiny material, which made it loose and able to flow about his body when he moved even the slightest bit. When he raised the microphone to his mouth to speak, the blouse would get hitched up a little and expose a small patch of pale skin. And his bellybutton.
God, Shirota thought that Aiba's bellybutton was the cutest thing in the world.
The skirt was black and red, checkered and short at the front, long at the back. Layered as it was, it stopped mid thigh, leaving just the slightest bit of skin visible until it met the grey socks that he wore. Whenever he jumped, the skirt did as well, enticing and taunting.
It really didn't help that his lover was practically staring at him throughout the entire performance.
And then came the contest, where they made the three of them say something romantic, and Aiba's eyes were fixed on his own as he said, “Tonight... Come to my house...”
Shirota ran out of the auditorium.
Later, when the entire thing was over, Shirota sneaked into the dressing room with a little help from Matsukaza-san, who winked at him and proceeded to ward everyone else away from the room.
“Ah, Matsukaza-san, could you help me see if-”
“What do you think you're wearing, Hiroki?”
Aiba gasped, spinning around to face Shirota. “Sh-Shirotan! I didn't see you come in! When did you-” He was cut off again when Shirota's hands roamed underneath that black blouse, sliding up to his back and stopping when they came to his shoulderblades.
“I said, what do you think you're wearing?”
Aiba bit his lip, inhaling sharply through his nose when Shirota leaned forwards to bite down at his neck. “It's... A skirt, Yuu.”
“Mm, I can see that...” Shirota chuckled, bringing his hands up higher and tugging the flimsy piece of fabric off his lover. “Now, let's see what's underneath the skirt, shall we?”
Getting down to his knees, Shirota pushed Aiba's hips backwards until he fell backwards onto a couch. Placing his hands on his thighs, Shirota started to move them upwards into the folds of the skirt, exposing what his lover was wearing underneath.
“Oh...” Shirota's pupils dilated at the sight. “Does anyone know that you're wearing this?” He breathed, gently plucking at the black g-string. Gods, he was so aroused, and his jeans felt so tight it hurt.
“N-No,” Aiba choked out when Shirota cupped his erection through the cloth. “I did it f-for you. Yuu, please...”
Laughing, Shirota peeled it off. Slowly, he exposed his lover's hard flesh bit by bit, leaning down to take the head into his mouth, and continuing with everything inch of flesh that he exposed, until his nose met the base of Aiba's cock, and he could feel all of his lover inside of his mouth. Deciding to tease, he gave a hard suck.
The effect was instantaneous. Aiba cried out, back arching harshly on the couch. He buried his hands into Shirota's hair and urged him on, hips bucking up into the warm, wet heat. He writhed on the couch, Shirota alternating between harsh sucks and teasing licks with his tongue, bobbing his head up and down while pressing his hips down with one hand, the other reacing up to tweak a nipple.
“Yuu!”
Shirota chuckled, the vibrations sending a shiver up Aiba's spine as the pleasure coursed through him. He leaned up, moving to claim Aiba's lips instead, letting him taste himself while his hand moved downwards to work his lover to release. He could feel it, how close Aiba was, and when he did come, muscles tight and head thrown back, the shout of his name made Shirota growl in satisfaction.
He picked Aiba up gently, cleaning him with a packet of wet wipes stashed in his back pocket, and held the dancer close, letting him come down from his high.
“Shirotan...”
Shirota grinned. “Come on, Aibacchi, you've got to pack up. We need to go home.”
Nodding his head dazedly, Aiba agreed, moving about the dressing room and stuffing his items into the duffel bag he had brought along.
When they were walking out of the studio, Shirota gave Aiba's ass a small squeeze, proceeding to whisper in his ear. “You're not getting any sleep tonight, Hiroki.”
Inspired by the TOPCOAT Collection 2011/2012, where Aiba Hiroki, Matsuzaka Tori and Suda Masaki dance. While crossdressing. Enough said.
Author: RayAnneliese [CrescentRay]
Characters/Pairings: Shirota Yuu x Aiba Hiroki, Matsuzaka Tori
Genre: Romance, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Shirota tries to control himself while watching Aiba prance on stage.
Warnings: Not worksafe. At all.
Shirota Yuu thought he was going to die from excessive blood loss.
He knew that his lover had switched talent agents, to TOPCOAT, and he had been assured by Aiba himself that, no, it wasn't because Matsukaza-san was under them. However, Aiba always warned Shirota from coming to pick him up at the TOPCOAT building, or where ever they were currently filming or having an event, and it irked Shirota.
But one day, the petite brunette had come skipping back to their apartment and handed him a sleek black and gold ticket, kissed him on the lips gently and proceeding on to their bathroom to take a shower. Curious as to what the ticket was for, Shirota followed his lover, and from there, things got, uh, out of hand.
He grinned at the memory.
HOWEVER.
That did not explain why his lover was currently prancing around, dancing to some song that was sang by girls with irritatingly high and squeaky voices, wearing a blouse that was too short for him and a skirt.
A skirt.
The blouse was black and made of some satiny material, which made it loose and able to flow about his body when he moved even the slightest bit. When he raised the microphone to his mouth to speak, the blouse would get hitched up a little and expose a small patch of pale skin. And his bellybutton.
God, Shirota thought that Aiba's bellybutton was the cutest thing in the world.
The skirt was black and red, checkered and short at the front, long at the back. Layered as it was, it stopped mid thigh, leaving just the slightest bit of skin visible until it met the grey socks that he wore. Whenever he jumped, the skirt did as well, enticing and taunting.
It really didn't help that his lover was practically staring at him throughout the entire performance.
And then came the contest, where they made the three of them say something romantic, and Aiba's eyes were fixed on his own as he said, “Tonight... Come to my house...”
Shirota ran out of the auditorium.
Later, when the entire thing was over, Shirota sneaked into the dressing room with a little help from Matsukaza-san, who winked at him and proceeded to ward everyone else away from the room.
“Ah, Matsukaza-san, could you help me see if-”
“What do you think you're wearing, Hiroki?”
Aiba gasped, spinning around to face Shirota. “Sh-Shirotan! I didn't see you come in! When did you-” He was cut off again when Shirota's hands roamed underneath that black blouse, sliding up to his back and stopping when they came to his shoulderblades.
“I said, what do you think you're wearing?”
Aiba bit his lip, inhaling sharply through his nose when Shirota leaned forwards to bite down at his neck. “It's... A skirt, Yuu.”
“Mm, I can see that...” Shirota chuckled, bringing his hands up higher and tugging the flimsy piece of fabric off his lover. “Now, let's see what's underneath the skirt, shall we?”
Getting down to his knees, Shirota pushed Aiba's hips backwards until he fell backwards onto a couch. Placing his hands on his thighs, Shirota started to move them upwards into the folds of the skirt, exposing what his lover was wearing underneath.
“Oh...” Shirota's pupils dilated at the sight. “Does anyone know that you're wearing this?” He breathed, gently plucking at the black g-string. Gods, he was so aroused, and his jeans felt so tight it hurt.
“N-No,” Aiba choked out when Shirota cupped his erection through the cloth. “I did it f-for you. Yuu, please...”
Laughing, Shirota peeled it off. Slowly, he exposed his lover's hard flesh bit by bit, leaning down to take the head into his mouth, and continuing with everything inch of flesh that he exposed, until his nose met the base of Aiba's cock, and he could feel all of his lover inside of his mouth. Deciding to tease, he gave a hard suck.
The effect was instantaneous. Aiba cried out, back arching harshly on the couch. He buried his hands into Shirota's hair and urged him on, hips bucking up into the warm, wet heat. He writhed on the couch, Shirota alternating between harsh sucks and teasing licks with his tongue, bobbing his head up and down while pressing his hips down with one hand, the other reacing up to tweak a nipple.
“Yuu!”
Shirota chuckled, the vibrations sending a shiver up Aiba's spine as the pleasure coursed through him. He leaned up, moving to claim Aiba's lips instead, letting him taste himself while his hand moved downwards to work his lover to release. He could feel it, how close Aiba was, and when he did come, muscles tight and head thrown back, the shout of his name made Shirota growl in satisfaction.
He picked Aiba up gently, cleaning him with a packet of wet wipes stashed in his back pocket, and held the dancer close, letting him come down from his high.
“Shirotan...”
Shirota grinned. “Come on, Aibacchi, you've got to pack up. We need to go home.”
Nodding his head dazedly, Aiba agreed, moving about the dressing room and stuffing his items into the duffel bag he had brought along.
When they were walking out of the studio, Shirota gave Aiba's ass a small squeeze, proceeding to whisper in his ear. “You're not getting any sleep tonight, Hiroki.”
Inspired by the TOPCOAT Collection 2011/2012, where Aiba Hiroki, Matsuzaka Tori and Suda Masaki dance. While crossdressing. Enough said.