Winter Porn Drabbles
warning for D/s & bondage ->
? / ryo :: like a heaven
The rope is tight and unforgiving across his skin, keeping him firmly in place -- one arm strapped close against his chest, the other against his torso. It's an awful pleasure, because if he relaxes, the rope will cut deep and painful into his skin, but his muscles are growing tired holding his limbs in place. He's been here for hours, tied up and then left alone while the other went into town to run some errands. The cold of the floor only adds to his discomfort, and he can't help but think this misery was the plan all along.
The door creaks open. A man walks in carrying a few bags. His eyes crinkle at the sides.
"Aw, you haven't moved at all? What a good boy," he says, smiling.
The man on the floor, tied up with ropes, wants to snarl and curse, but he knows he shouldn't.
"I'm so proud of you!" The other man chirps. "I almost didn't think you'd make it until I got back, but you're strong, so I shouldn't have doubted you."
He stalks over, and runs a soft hand through the bound man's hair.
"I'm surprised, though, that you're taking this so well." He crouches down. "Are you really going to take all this lying down?"
"Do I have a choice?" He snaps, and the other man frowns.
"I don't like that tone from you."
He grabs the ropes, pulls him to a stand, and drags him down the hallway. The bound man can only follow, stumbling awkwardly on his feet. He's thrown onto the bed, face first, and struggles to lift his face out of the plush, down comforter.
"If you didn't want to be here, you would have found a way out of the rope. I left a single flaw, on purpose, to give you that opportunity if you really wanted out. But, you didn't take it." He crawls over the bed, like a stalking beast. "Now, do as I say."
The bound man trembles, knowing the truth in those words, and nods.
"Sing for me," the man whispers.
"W-what?"
"Sing. I think I'd like to hear Ordinary."
It's like they're both frozen, until the man reaches up and pinches soft skin between his fingers, hard and sharp.
The lyrics fall, shaky and imperfect, from Ryo's lips, as he feels with something between horror and excitement as the man studies his body, like he didn't do this hours earlier when the ropes were put on.
He gropes between Ryo's legs, his hands rough, and the lyrics falter. The man gives Ryo a displeased look.
"I'm sorry," Ryo whines, but he's not sure why he's the one apologizing. "But, I'm really uncomfortable."
"And?"
"... I can't focus."
The man leans over Ryo's back, whispering low in his ear, "Ryo-chan can find a way to focus. Now, sing."
Ryo tries to finish Ordinary, but it's tough, with the jute rope tight and horrible and amazing against his skin, and this man exploring Ryo's body with his tongue in all the places that Ryo never thought another person would ever see.
The song finishes, and immediately, the man calls for Code.
"I bet you wrote it for me. You won't admit it, but I bet you did," he laughs into Ryo's skin.
Ryo can't see what this man is doing, has no way of knowing what will happen, and can't lift himself up to look. It's terrifying and humbling to be at someone's mercy like this.
The lyrics die, morphing into a startled moan when a slick something pushes into him, and his dick twitches.
"I didn't tell you to stop, Ryo-chan."
"W-wha-"
"Sing."
Ryo whimpers, and picks up where he left off.
That something in him moves, paired with a low, electric buzz, and Ryo's thighs tremble. He thinks he knows, but can't be sure. It's pushed in deeper, and it becomes a struggle to remember the lyrics of a song he spent months slaving over to perfect.
The man, from somewhere behind him coos, happy and enthralled, "I wonder how much of this you can take?"
He pushes it in deeper, and the buzzing thing brushes against something, and Ryo lets the lyrics die on his lips again, opting instead of hump the mattress with that little leverage he has.
The man puts a hand on the small of Ryo's back, pushing down with enough weight to still him.
"Please," Ryo begs. "Just let me-"
"Finish with Monologue. If you mess up the lyrics, I'll stop you again."
Ryo nods as much as he can, and the man lets up.
He doesn't even really know what he's singing anymore. Something about a town and cigarettes, and then it doesn't matter, because that thing in him is in just the right spot, and the duvet cover gives him just the perfect touch of friction. The lyrics are butchered and only half-formed, but the man must find them acceptable enough, because he doesn't stop Ryo, who's humping the blanket like it's something else entirely.
He feel oddly embarrassed, but can't bring himself to care. He must look like a fool; tied up with a black rope, limbs immobile, rubbing off against a bed, while something mechanical whirls in him, singing the lyrics to one of his own songs. But, he doesn't care much at this point -- he just wants to get off. Partly because he wants it, and partly because he knows that this man wants it too, and Ryo wants to please him.
Ryo comes with a furious groan, chocking out a few words as he stains the sheets and his muscles contract, moving the rope over his skin in a lovely burn.
A moment later, the man is there, patting him on the head, and rubbing soft hands over his skin.
"That's my Ryo-chan," he says, lovingly, turning off the thing. But, he plays with the end of it in his hand, and Ryo moans, overstimulated. "Although, we'll have to work on your enunciation. You were getting sloppy at the end there.
"Sorry," Ryo says, and the man forgives him with a short kiss on his shoulder.
He rubs Ryo's hip with one hand as he pulls out the thing. Ryo exhales breathily, and his hips cant up.
The man laughs, "That must be... 24, or 25 centimeters, Ryo-chan! I didn't think you had it in you to take so much so early in!" He leans forward, kissing Ryo on the base of his neck. "I'm so proud. Such a good boy."
Ryo feels the man tug at the ropes, and just a little, they loosen against his skin.
"Since you've been so good, I'll let you rest a little."
Ryo nods, and closes his eyes, hoping it'll be long enough for him to catch a cat-nap.
tegoshi / shige :: something like you and me
"No, Shige. Move your leg," Tegoshi mutters, voice strained, and reaches behind himself to reposition Shige, "here."
From where he's sitting on the couch, Shige frowns. "I'm going to get a cramp like this."
"If you last that long."
Shige tries to form a retort, but when Tegoshi rolls his hips in Shige's lap, without any awkwardly placed legs in his way, the complaint dies before it can be formed.
Tegoshi grins, lewdly, and balances more of his weight on Shige's shoulders. "Stay like this, Shige."
"And, if I don't want to?"
"Too bad."
Shige lifts his hands, trying to slow down the frantic up-down, roll-roll of Tegoshi's hips; if he comes too soon, it'll be embarrassing, and Tegoshi will find underhanded little ways of teasing him over it.
Tegoshi slaps his hands away. "Stop getting in the way."
Shige grimaces, but only because he's trying to think unsexy thoughts.
"Touch me," Tegoshi whines, and Shige considers refusing. But, the growl and sharp fingernails into his skin make him think otherwise.
Tegoshi keens and licks his lips when Shige wraps a hand around his dick and squeezes just right.
"Let up a little," Shige says, trying to move his shoulders.
"No." Tegoshi's eyes are dark and absolute, and it makes Shige nod meekly, and deals with the limited range of movement he's allowed.
Shige does come first, face flushed from embarrassment. But, it's hard to not come first when Tegoshi's dancing naked on your lap like he's a professional hooker. He tries to get Tegoshi to move off, but the younger keeps riding him, pushing his cock into Shige's hand, and he succumbs to the blatant display of dominance.
Tegoshi comes in Shige's hand and a bit across his stomach; Shige always hates that. It feels gross to have another man's semen on your skin, no matter how many times it happens. But, Tegoshi likes to ride, likes to hold Shige down and drive him mad with touches and teasing and his hips.
After a moment, he lifts himself off Shige's lap, falling next to him on the couch. He takes one look at Shige's face and starts laughing.
"Go wash up," Tegoshi says, giggling. "You're going to start bitching about it any second, I can tell."
Shige stands, grumbling, stepping carefully like he's the bottom.
yamapi / koyama :: night
Koyama is sprawled over the stripped bed, naked, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the ashtray just an arms length away.
He's bruised and stretched in all the right places that he'll feel tomorrow at work, that will remind him of this moment, of the moments just an hour ago, when he was pushed down onto the soft mattress, and he was teased to near-madness by perfect, plump heart-shaped lips and more.
The bed dips, and Koyama looks up -- it's his leader -- crawling toward him, smiling, innocently. He plucks the cigarette from Koyama's lips and takes a deep drag.
"You shouldn't smoke in bed," he says, crushing it out in the ashtray. "It's dangerous."
"Dangerous so good," Koyama murmurs, and pokes a finger into the fleshy side of Pi's torso. "You really do look better like this."
"... You mean naked?"
Koyama laughs. "Well, yes. But, I mean as opposed to how thin you were during filming for Joe."
"I don't seem to remember you complaining about all that stamina and strength."
They're both thinking about those moments when Koyama was held off the floor for what seemed like forever, balanced in Pi's arm while they both went crazy with lust.
"You still look better like this," Koyama repeats, and sits up, kissing Pi's lips, sucking at his bottom lip, and running his tongue across the other's teeth.
"Insatiable!" Pi shouts in feigned displeasure. He collapses against the pillows at the head of the bed, and Koyama's next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the next instant.
They make-out a little more, touching and poking at bruises, but they're both too tired to really be in it for anything else. Koyama practically falls asleep partway through tracing a pattern with his tongue from one hickey to another across Pi's chest. Pi lets him stay there, and passes out just a few short moments later.
? / ryo :: like a heaven
The rope is tight and unforgiving across his skin, keeping him firmly in place -- one arm strapped close against his chest, the other against his torso. It's an awful pleasure, because if he relaxes, the rope will cut deep and painful into his skin, but his muscles are growing tired holding his limbs in place. He's been here for hours, tied up and then left alone while the other went into town to run some errands. The cold of the floor only adds to his discomfort, and he can't help but think this misery was the plan all along.
The door creaks open. A man walks in carrying a few bags. His eyes crinkle at the sides.
"Aw, you haven't moved at all? What a good boy," he says, smiling.
The man on the floor, tied up with ropes, wants to snarl and curse, but he knows he shouldn't.
"I'm so proud of you!" The other man chirps. "I almost didn't think you'd make it until I got back, but you're strong, so I shouldn't have doubted you."
He stalks over, and runs a soft hand through the bound man's hair.
"I'm surprised, though, that you're taking this so well." He crouches down. "Are you really going to take all this lying down?"
"Do I have a choice?" He snaps, and the other man frowns.
"I don't like that tone from you."
He grabs the ropes, pulls him to a stand, and drags him down the hallway. The bound man can only follow, stumbling awkwardly on his feet. He's thrown onto the bed, face first, and struggles to lift his face out of the plush, down comforter.
"If you didn't want to be here, you would have found a way out of the rope. I left a single flaw, on purpose, to give you that opportunity if you really wanted out. But, you didn't take it." He crawls over the bed, like a stalking beast. "Now, do as I say."
The bound man trembles, knowing the truth in those words, and nods.
"Sing for me," the man whispers.
"W-what?"
"Sing. I think I'd like to hear Ordinary."
It's like they're both frozen, until the man reaches up and pinches soft skin between his fingers, hard and sharp.
The lyrics fall, shaky and imperfect, from Ryo's lips, as he feels with something between horror and excitement as the man studies his body, like he didn't do this hours earlier when the ropes were put on.
He gropes between Ryo's legs, his hands rough, and the lyrics falter. The man gives Ryo a displeased look.
"I'm sorry," Ryo whines, but he's not sure why he's the one apologizing. "But, I'm really uncomfortable."
"And?"
"... I can't focus."
The man leans over Ryo's back, whispering low in his ear, "Ryo-chan can find a way to focus. Now, sing."
Ryo tries to finish Ordinary, but it's tough, with the jute rope tight and horrible and amazing against his skin, and this man exploring Ryo's body with his tongue in all the places that Ryo never thought another person would ever see.
The song finishes, and immediately, the man calls for Code.
"I bet you wrote it for me. You won't admit it, but I bet you did," he laughs into Ryo's skin.
Ryo can't see what this man is doing, has no way of knowing what will happen, and can't lift himself up to look. It's terrifying and humbling to be at someone's mercy like this.
The lyrics die, morphing into a startled moan when a slick something pushes into him, and his dick twitches.
"I didn't tell you to stop, Ryo-chan."
"W-wha-"
"Sing."
Ryo whimpers, and picks up where he left off.
That something in him moves, paired with a low, electric buzz, and Ryo's thighs tremble. He thinks he knows, but can't be sure. It's pushed in deeper, and it becomes a struggle to remember the lyrics of a song he spent months slaving over to perfect.
The man, from somewhere behind him coos, happy and enthralled, "I wonder how much of this you can take?"
He pushes it in deeper, and the buzzing thing brushes against something, and Ryo lets the lyrics die on his lips again, opting instead of hump the mattress with that little leverage he has.
The man puts a hand on the small of Ryo's back, pushing down with enough weight to still him.
"Please," Ryo begs. "Just let me-"
"Finish with Monologue. If you mess up the lyrics, I'll stop you again."
Ryo nods as much as he can, and the man lets up.
He doesn't even really know what he's singing anymore. Something about a town and cigarettes, and then it doesn't matter, because that thing in him is in just the right spot, and the duvet cover gives him just the perfect touch of friction. The lyrics are butchered and only half-formed, but the man must find them acceptable enough, because he doesn't stop Ryo, who's humping the blanket like it's something else entirely.
He feel oddly embarrassed, but can't bring himself to care. He must look like a fool; tied up with a black rope, limbs immobile, rubbing off against a bed, while something mechanical whirls in him, singing the lyrics to one of his own songs. But, he doesn't care much at this point -- he just wants to get off. Partly because he wants it, and partly because he knows that this man wants it too, and Ryo wants to please him.
Ryo comes with a furious groan, chocking out a few words as he stains the sheets and his muscles contract, moving the rope over his skin in a lovely burn.
A moment later, the man is there, patting him on the head, and rubbing soft hands over his skin.
"That's my Ryo-chan," he says, lovingly, turning off the thing. But, he plays with the end of it in his hand, and Ryo moans, overstimulated. "Although, we'll have to work on your enunciation. You were getting sloppy at the end there.
"Sorry," Ryo says, and the man forgives him with a short kiss on his shoulder.
He rubs Ryo's hip with one hand as he pulls out the thing. Ryo exhales breathily, and his hips cant up.
The man laughs, "That must be... 24, or 25 centimeters, Ryo-chan! I didn't think you had it in you to take so much so early in!" He leans forward, kissing Ryo on the base of his neck. "I'm so proud. Such a good boy."
Ryo feels the man tug at the ropes, and just a little, they loosen against his skin.
"Since you've been so good, I'll let you rest a little."
Ryo nods, and closes his eyes, hoping it'll be long enough for him to catch a cat-nap.
tegoshi / shige :: something like you and me
"No, Shige. Move your leg," Tegoshi mutters, voice strained, and reaches behind himself to reposition Shige, "here."
From where he's sitting on the couch, Shige frowns. "I'm going to get a cramp like this."
"If you last that long."
Shige tries to form a retort, but when Tegoshi rolls his hips in Shige's lap, without any awkwardly placed legs in his way, the complaint dies before it can be formed.
Tegoshi grins, lewdly, and balances more of his weight on Shige's shoulders. "Stay like this, Shige."
"And, if I don't want to?"
"Too bad."
Shige lifts his hands, trying to slow down the frantic up-down, roll-roll of Tegoshi's hips; if he comes too soon, it'll be embarrassing, and Tegoshi will find underhanded little ways of teasing him over it.
Tegoshi slaps his hands away. "Stop getting in the way."
Shige grimaces, but only because he's trying to think unsexy thoughts.
"Touch me," Tegoshi whines, and Shige considers refusing. But, the growl and sharp fingernails into his skin make him think otherwise.
Tegoshi keens and licks his lips when Shige wraps a hand around his dick and squeezes just right.
"Let up a little," Shige says, trying to move his shoulders.
"No." Tegoshi's eyes are dark and absolute, and it makes Shige nod meekly, and deals with the limited range of movement he's allowed.
Shige does come first, face flushed from embarrassment. But, it's hard to not come first when Tegoshi's dancing naked on your lap like he's a professional hooker. He tries to get Tegoshi to move off, but the younger keeps riding him, pushing his cock into Shige's hand, and he succumbs to the blatant display of dominance.
Tegoshi comes in Shige's hand and a bit across his stomach; Shige always hates that. It feels gross to have another man's semen on your skin, no matter how many times it happens. But, Tegoshi likes to ride, likes to hold Shige down and drive him mad with touches and teasing and his hips.
After a moment, he lifts himself off Shige's lap, falling next to him on the couch. He takes one look at Shige's face and starts laughing.
"Go wash up," Tegoshi says, giggling. "You're going to start bitching about it any second, I can tell."
Shige stands, grumbling, stepping carefully like he's the bottom.
yamapi / koyama :: night
Koyama is sprawled over the stripped bed, naked, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the ashtray just an arms length away.
He's bruised and stretched in all the right places that he'll feel tomorrow at work, that will remind him of this moment, of the moments just an hour ago, when he was pushed down onto the soft mattress, and he was teased to near-madness by perfect, plump heart-shaped lips and more.
The bed dips, and Koyama looks up -- it's his leader -- crawling toward him, smiling, innocently. He plucks the cigarette from Koyama's lips and takes a deep drag.
"You shouldn't smoke in bed," he says, crushing it out in the ashtray. "It's dangerous."
"Dangerous so good," Koyama murmurs, and pokes a finger into the fleshy side of Pi's torso. "You really do look better like this."
"... You mean naked?"
Koyama laughs. "Well, yes. But, I mean as opposed to how thin you were during filming for Joe."
"I don't seem to remember you complaining about all that stamina and strength."
They're both thinking about those moments when Koyama was held off the floor for what seemed like forever, balanced in Pi's arm while they both went crazy with lust.
"You still look better like this," Koyama repeats, and sits up, kissing Pi's lips, sucking at his bottom lip, and running his tongue across the other's teeth.
"Insatiable!" Pi shouts in feigned displeasure. He collapses against the pillows at the head of the bed, and Koyama's next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the next instant.
They make-out a little more, touching and poking at bruises, but they're both too tired to really be in it for anything else. Koyama practically falls asleep partway through tracing a pattern with his tongue from one hickey to another across Pi's chest. Pi lets him stay there, and passes out just a few short moments later.