Hey! Say! JUMPPairing:
Yaotome Hikaru/Yamada RyosukeRating:
He wanted to reach out, push the fabric off those shoulder and kiss the sensitive skin around Yamada’s neck to make him moan. He knew all of his secret spots. The ones that made him turn into a puddle under Hikaru’s touch, and he longed to get a finger on him with the way Yamada was making bedroom eyes at him across the room.Notes:
So this was a story in the making. Somehow h_itoshi
and I started talking about how we couldn't read the pairings we wanted to in fic and somehow worked our way to an exchange??? (100% this is probably my fault the more I think about it cause I said I would pay for fic I wanted to read.....) EITHER WAY! I had a lot of fun writing this fic. It was a new pairing that I've wanted to try writing, but never had the guts to attempt.
Something was amiss. Hikaru had already thought it was strange when he walked through the door, no scent of Yamada’s cooking wafting through the air, no “welcome home” floating to his ears the minute his shoes hit the genkan. It was far too quiet, but Yamada’s shoes were tucked near the entryway where he usually placed them.
The thumps coming from the bedroom peaked his interest as he walked into the kitchen, one hand poised to loosen his tie upon entry. That didn’t sound right. Worse case scenarios flashed through his head. Yamada, on their bed, writhing under the sheets as another man had his way with him.
He had no reason to believe any of this was true. The look on Yamada’s face was so pure, so loving, whenever he walked through the door, kissing him senseless when they made love. He felt it in his heart. It couldn’t be fake.
Then again, Yamada had always been a fantastic actor.
He rounded the corner, heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the emotions rise in his face, hitting his tear ducts until he stopped in his tracks. The confusion he felt, running through his veins like an express train, was washed away in a moment.
Yamada was there, standing against the doorframe to their bedroom, dressed only in one of Hikaru’s white button up shirts. Only a few of those pesky buttons were done up, holding the thin fabric to his frame, showing off hints of the muscle curtained behind it.
He wanted to reach out, push the fabric off those shoulder and kiss the sensitive skin around Yamada’s neck to make him moan. He knew all of his secret spots. The ones that made him turn into a puddle under Hikaru’s touch, and he longed to get a finger on him with the way Yamada was making bedroom eyes at him across the room.
A single finger, a little waggle, was all it took to break him, to break the distance, to make him follow Yamada into the lion’s den.
His hips were a wonderland, entrancing Hikaru at the threshold of their bedframe. How he danced, putting on a private show. He knew those hips, knows them like the back of his hands, how many times his hands have traced those curves, wrapped his fingers around them to take hold.
It was like he was seeing Yamada for the first time, tugging the collar of his shirt, opening it for a sweet taste of skin before hiding the tender flesh behind it once more. Yamada’s movements mesmerized him, strutting and swaying his hips with every step towards their bed.
Hikaru dropped his briefcase, feet following like a puppy after his master. His lips longed to taste Yamada’s until they finally meet, Yamada coaxing him onto the bed with the slightest movement of his finger.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Yamada said between kisses, maneuvering their bodies so he was straddling Hikaru’s lap. “You have no idea how long I’ve been planning this.”
“Minutes? Hours?” Hikaru teased.
“Weeks,” he said, rolling his hips and pulling a moan from Hikaru’s mouth. “I wanted to do something special since you’ve been working so hard.”
“A trip to Disneyland?”
“That’s enough out of you,” Yamada said, pushing Hikaru’s shoulder so he fell back onto the mattress. “I’ll make it so the only thing you can do is moan my name.”
His fingers were a godsend, running over his clothed skin, working their way south as Yamada kissed him silly. His lips were an addiction he couldn’t break until they were gone, kissing along his clothed flesh until they were hovering above his pants. His breath locked itself in his throat, eyes waiting, watching for Yamada’s next move.
Dexterous fingers worked open the button of his pants, tearing the zipper down slowly, click by click, as Hikaru quivered. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, how Yamada licked his lips, his eyes so focused on the task in front of him.
He lifted his hips just enough to help Yamada work his pants and underwear over his ass to free his cock. It was already half-hard, and a sweet, wet heat enveloped him quickly after.
He cursed. “You couldn’t wait two seconds?”
Yamada moaned in response, swirling his tongue around Hikaru’s shaft and bobbing his head up and down the thick length. Inch by inch Yamada took him deeper into the heat of his mouth, and Hikaru barely contained the moans that threatened to fall from his lips.
He always loved how Yamada looked when he had his lips wrapped around his cock. It was as if he was a slutty princess that hungered for anything that dared to escapes from his slit. Those eyes, those beautiful dark eyes, stared at him, fire burning behind hooded lids that made Hikaru’s soul shiver deep within his body. He couldn’t stand it. How a single look ignited a fire within him, threatening to burst with a single touch, a single brush of Yamada’s beautiful tongue against his cock. It tore him apart.
“I prepared myself while I waited,” Yamada groaned, stroking Hikaru’s length. “I thought about you, about us. I thought about how much I wanted your cock and it was easy to work my fingers in after that.” He licked from the base of Hikaru’s cock to the tip, pulling another moan from him. “But my fingers are nothing compared to the real thing. I need you now.”
Yamada’s kiss was searing across his lips, fingers stripping away the few buttons holding Hikaru’s shirt to his flesh. His shirt disappeared over the horizon of the bed, lost in the moment, before Yamada’s hands found Hikaru’s own shirt to work open, finger racking down the toned muscle as he sank lower and lower.
Yamada’s words were turning in his head, his mind painting the picture of him sprawled on their bed, fingers rammed up his own ass, moaning for only those four walls to hear. Reaching desperately into himself for that special spot, the one place that made him melt.
Hikaru had to know. Had to know if Yamada was telling the truth.
He snuck his hand around Yamada’s backside, hands skirting over silky skin. He pushed a finger in then a second and a third, loving how Yamada moaned into his mouth, hips rocking into his touch.
He was well stretched but still tight against Hikaru’s fingers, the warmth dragging his fantasies deeper. He could see Yamada fucking himself with a vibrator, whimpering each time he brushed his own prostate. He could see Yamada scrambling to hide it all once he heard Hikaru walk through the door, moving quick but failing as he bumped into the dresser, banging it into the wall. His eyes clouded with lust, body craving his boyfriend’s thick cock instead.
The need to know more was strong.
“How did we do it in your fantasy?” Hikaru breathed against Yamada’s lips, so close he could have claimed them once more as his own.
Yamada moaned, rocking his hips to take Hikaru’s fingers deeper into his slick, wet heat. “Stop teasing. Do you want me to cum?”
“Maybe.” He went to slide a finger out, but Yamada’s voice cught him.
“Fuck. There were too many,” Yamada moaned, grasping onto the edges of Hikaru’s shirt. “I always like the one where you get me off untouched, but I needed something more to take me higher.”
Hikaru filed that away to ask about last, inching the last finger in bit by bit.
“I needed something rougher,” Yamada said, rolling his hips. “I thought about how hot it would be with you pinning me against the wall. Your hands rough enough to leave bruises on my skin as you barely stretched me before sliding into my ass. How you’d pound me into that damn wall until I was one with it.”
He had lost all control of his fingers, unable to tease Yamada the more his listened to him. Yamada’s eye controlled his attention, daring him to look away. His length was hard between his legs, aching to be the one surrounded in Yamada’s warmth.
“And you know how I like to be tied up.” One of Yamada’s hands reached out, tweaking one of Hikaru’s nipples, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Hikaru’s body. “I thought about you tying me to the headboards, so I couldn’t do a damn thing as you blew me. How you would suck me off until I was right on the edge then pull back. You’d sit on the bed with your stupid smirk as I begged for my release. The moment you’d enter me I’d cum so hard I wouldn’t realize you were fucking me until you came in my ass.”
He couldn’t breath with how Yamada was speaking to him, how those filthy words caressed his brain, the images sinking lower and lower as both of his hands grasped Yamada’s hips. He wanted to cum. He could feel it singing in his blood. The desire was there. He only wanted Yamada. He only wanted him for the rest of his life, but he would give anything in the world to make Yamada happy.
“But I thought of something that would give you a chance to relax, and let me do all of the work,” Yamada said, licking his lips. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
His breath was stolen from his lungs as Yamada slowly inched down his length until he bottomed out. He could only see his boyfriend’s face, the look of pure pleasure that masked his features as he gripped onto Hikaru tightly.
“You like that?” Yamada moaned, testing his hips with a few rolls.
He couldn’t stop the moans from falling from his lips, bringing one of his hands up to his mouth to bite back a little of the pleasure. He hated how Yamada could do this to him, to bring him to his knees so easily, mouth ready to beg for more. Yet…he craved it. He craved it like the ocean needing the sun and the moon, a delicate dance to preserve the life floating around its surface.
“I can’t hear you,” Yamada said, rolling his hips faster.
The moans that fell from his even surprised Hikaru as he was thrust deeper into Yamada’s ass. Even being well prepared, the tightness continued to pull beautiful sounds the more Yamada danced on top of him, taking him for a ride with those magical hips of his.
Hikaru was already seeing stars. He needed this. He needed this so bad. The sweet taste of release was so close on his tongue. He knew the flavors. He knew them well, and the pressure in his body was too much to handle.
“I know you secretly prefer me to ride you,” Yamada said, picking up the pace with his hips, bouncing up and down. “You like me being on top of you, having control over your orgasm. You don’t need to say anything,” he smirked. “I know I’m right.”
Yamada rose, inching up and up Hikaru’s length until just the top was in before slamming back down, knocking the breath from Hikaru’s lungs once more. He could hardly hear Yamada, not over the sound of his own labored breathing. Another time he’d be able to hear those beautiful moans, but not today. Today he could only struggle to make out those beautiful syllables that passed through Yamada’s lips.
“You like the way I fuck your cock,” Yamada continued. One of his hands found his own dick, stroking it with every beautiful roll of his hips. “I bet you dream of this moment when you’re at work. Me on top of you, hands tied as I torture you with kisses and my ass until you-”
“I’m so close, Ryosuke,” Hikaru moaned, hips buckling and thrusting deeper into Yamada.
His lips were on him once more, kissing him for only a moment. Yamada used the moment to whisper in Hikaru’s ear, “Then cum for me.”
The floodgates opened, and he lost control over himself, letting him be swept up in the river and darkness over came him. He could feel Yamada tightening around him, spurts of cum sliding between their sweat soaked bodies. His own sex noises reached the capacity of Hikaru’s ears but his mind not able to understand them.
He felt warm. He felt something winding between their two bodies that was something far stronger than anything physical he had felt with his previous relationships. Even hair messy, exhaustion seeping through his bones, Yamada had never been more beautiful to him. Even half dressed lying next to his naked partner, it was how he wanted to spend every day of his life.
“I love you,” he muttered, running a hand through Yamada’s hair as they lay together on the bed.
“You should,” Yamada said, nudging Hikaru’s stomach. “We have a place together.” He inches closer, letting Hikaru wrap a weary arm around him. “But,” he whispered, so Hikaru had to strain to hear his words, “I love you too.”
The kiss was sweet. Reminding him of first dates, of the first few tender touches and when he finally worked up the courage to hold Yamada’s hand. How he felt when they kissed like teenagers for the first time and how those innocent kisses turned heated, and how Yamada blew him in the back of his car.
He got jealous. He was worried that Yamada would grow bored of him and find someone prettier or funnier to date, but it was moments like these, curled up in bed sharing chaste kisses, that reminded him that all was okay. Yamada loved him because he was Hikaru and no one else.
Nothing in the world would change that.