Fic: Beginner's Luck [Byou X Manabu, NC-17]

[puss_nd_boots]

Title: Beginner’s Luck
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, romance
Warnings: Male/male sex, first time gay sex, frottage, oral
Pairing: Byou X Manabu
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Manabu has just joined SCREW and is hiding a secret – his shyness has kept him from fulfilling his fantasies of being with another man. When Byou is sent to figure out what’s wrong with their newbie, they both get a lot more than they bargained for.
Comments: Written for Season of Kink’s Holiday Season of Kink challenge, where you had to choose three or more kinks from the master list and combine them into one fic. The mission I set for myself with this was to write a multi-kink fic that revolved around an innocent character. Kinks used were First Time, Held Down, Secrecy and Frottage/Grinding.

By this time of his life, Manabu should have been used to living in a state of confusion.

It started when he was a young teenager. He knew that there was something different about him – and it went far beyond wanting to play the guitar instead of going to class. No, it had to do with the fact that he just wasn’t interested in girls – at least not the way his classmates were.

Indeed, he found himself interested in some of the classmates instead – though they didn’t return his affections.

He tried having girlfriends – he had a relationship with one young lady for over a year, including sex. But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him -it was almost like he was wearing clothing that was too small.

When he got out into the world of visual kei, though, he found out that there wasn’t anything unusual about him at all. On the contrary – the world was a haven for young men who didn’t “fit the mold” of straitlaced Japanese society. That included a lot of gay and bisexual men.

Indeed, “not entirely straight” seemed to be the default setting for the world he found himself in. There were plenty of guys who’d take advantage of the large amounts of bangaya throwing themselves at them, of course – but they were just as happy to make out with a bandmate as they were a female fan. (Indeed, he’d once walked in on two ex-bandmates of his in the shower of a livehouse, and they weren’t exactly scrubbing each other’s backs.)

He should be happy with this – in fact, logic should dictate that he’d be swimming in cock and getting laid all the time. But there was one thing standing in the way.

Manabu was painfully shy and introverted. He didn’t know how to approach a guy about dating, much less sex. He couldn’t just hit on someone backstage and drag them into bed. He ended up doing a lot of looking, but no touching.

So it was that when SCREW promoted him from session guitarist to full-blown member, he’d never been to bed with a member of his preferred gender.

* * *

“What’s with the new guy?” Kazuki asked his bandmates as they lounged around the hotel bar. Well, at least Byou, Jin and himself were lounging. Yuuto was nowhere in sight and Manabu . . . well, he was last seen in the hotel lobby, in search of vending machines.

“He seems nice enough,” Jin said. “He fits in with us. He can take a joke. He’s a great musician. What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Kazuki said. “He seems . . . well, quiet.”

“Compared to you, anyone’s quiet,” Byou said.

“It’s just that he acts like something’s bothering him sometimes,” Kazuki said. “Maybe one of us should try talking to him.”

“Which one of us?” Jin said. “Are we going to settle this the way we settle any important matter?”

“Rock-paper-scissors?” said Kazuki. “Of course we are. And the loser goes to talk to him.”

“In his room?” said Byou.

“Wherever he is,” said Kazuki. “Come on, start!”

* * *

Byou found himself getting off the elevator at Manabu’s floor, looking around him. The new guitarist had the room opposite the one he was sharing with Kazuki. This, of course, was a novelty this tour – that the band was being housed in three rooms, with a different lucky guy a night getting a room to himself. Up until now, all of them had crammed into one room – and sometimes, the staff as well.

He’d lost the rock-paper-scissors game, of course, and it was now his job to find out what was bugging their newbie. Which is why he was glad it was Manabu’s night to room alone. He didn’t want to have any of the others bursting in on this discussion.

He knocked on the door. No answer. Good, maybe this meant he could get out of this assignment. He’d just go back to the bar and tell the others that Manabu hadn’t been in his . . .

Except the door was opening and the guitarist was poking his head out. “Byou?” he said, looking almost startled.

“You have a minute?” Byou said. Well, that was a dumb question – it didn’t look like he was doing anything productive, did it? There were no guitars taken out of their cases, the TV wasn’t even on.

“Sure,” Manabu said. “Come in.” He shut the door behind him, then went to sit on the end of the bed – which was a couple of steps from the door. Like most Japanese hotel rooms, this one was very small.

Byou sat down on the chair that was next to the bed – meaning, he had to move his legs out of the way to keep from bumping into his bandmate. “We were just talking downstairs,” he said. “and we couldn’t help but notice that something doesn’t seem right with you.”

Manabu suddenly looked panicked. “Is there a problem with my playing?”

“Not your playing,” Byou said. “It’s you. You seem quiet. More quiet than normal.”

Manabu looked away. “Just getting used to the new band, I guess,” he said.

Byou caught the look in his eyes before he glanced in the other direction. He could tell there was more than that. Manabu looked, well, sort of haunted. Like there was some deep-seated pain there that he didn’t know how to deal with.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Byou said.

“Yes,” Manabu said, not looking at him.

All right, he was definitely hiding something. Byou suddenly became determined to get to the bottom of this. Was it a personality conflict with the other guys? Was it something that had happened in his previous band? He was just too damn cute to be that unhappy . . . and wait a minute, where had that thought come from?

“You can tell me, you know,” he said.

Manabu shifted uncomfortably. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said.

“I won’t tell the others,” said Byou. “Promise. Whatever it is, it won’t leave this room. Is it something involving the other guys?”

“No.”

“Maybe a guy in another band? Someone harassing you?”

Manabu shook his head in the negative. “Nothing like that.”

“Is it a girl, then? Your love life?”

There was a much longer pause this time before Manabu said, quietly, “Not a girl.”

“Did I hit a nerve with that one?” Byou said.

“I . . .” Manabu looked down at his hands. “I don’t date girls. At least not anymore.”

“You used to?” Byou said.

“In high school,” Manabu said. “There was one girl. We dated for a while, and then we broke up.”

“She left you?”

Manabu shook his head. “I . . . it wasn’t right for me. I’m not . . . that is, I’m . . . “

“You like guys instead?”

Manabu nodded, slowly.

“If that’s what’s bothering you, you don’t have to worry,” Byou said. “There isn’t a straight guy in this band. I think Yuuto’s the straightest, and even he sleeps with guys sometimes.”

“It’s not that . . . exactly,” said Manabu.

“But it is something to do with guys?” Byou suddenly found himself genuinely concerned. He knew how hard it could be sometimes – he had his own experiences with coming out to friends and family.

Manabu looked at him, shyly. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I swear it,” Byou said. “It won’t leave this room.”

Manabu looked away again. “I can’t talk to guys,” he said. “That is . . . I can’t seem to tell a guy I like him, or want to date him, or . . .”

“Want to get in his pants?”

Manabu turned bright red. “Something like that.”

“When was the last time you were with a guy, Manabu? You know – a relationship, or sex?”

He swallowed hard, looked down, and said in a small voice, “I haven’t.”

Byou blinked in surprise. “Did you just say . . . you haven’t?”

Manabu nodded.

“You’re a virgin?” Byou couldn’t believe this. This hot guy hadn’t slept with anyone?

“I’m not,” Manabu said, quickly. “I’ve had a girlfriend.”

“But you haven’t been with another guy, have you?”

Now Manabu was flat-out gripping the bed. “I want to so much,” he said. “I think about it all the time. Sometimes I look at a guy and I want him so badly it hurts.”

“Anyone in particular?” Byou said. “Like, anyone we know?”

Manabu swallowed hard. “Nobody really, no . . .” And he was looking away again.

Byou suddenly put his hand on Manabu’s. An idea was welling up in his head . . . one he really shouldn’t be having, one he should push away. But it was also too late to stop now.

“What if I offered to show you?” he said. “What it’s like, I mean.”

Manabu suddenly raised his head and stared at him, shocked. “You . . . you mean, make love to me?”

“Yes,” Byou said. “Not all the way, not penetration, just showing you what pleasure feels like between men.”

Manabu leaned toward him a bit – just a bit, his eyes wide and wondering. “You promise you won’t tell the others?” he said.

“It’s just between us,” Byou said. “That is, unless you want them to know. Some guys like to brag afterward.”

Manabu laughed softly, shaking his head. “No bragging,” he said. “Just between us.” He looked down, pushing hair behind his ears. “So . . . now what?”

“Well, first I lock the door, then I come over here, and then . . .” He leaned over and placed a small kiss on the guitarist’s neck, making him shudder. “Whatever we want to do.”

Manabu just sat there, feeling his body tremble as he watched the vocalist get up and throw the lock. Oh, my God, this was happening, this was really happening . . .

He hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone – not even himself – that he’d desired all his bandmates to some extent or another. But he desired Byou most of all. He’d look over at him on the stage, all sensuality and the promise of ecstasy, and feel something stir inside him . . .

And he was going to touch him, and kiss him, and give him pleasure. He was going to be his first male lover. Oh, GOD.

Byou came back to the bed and sat down beside Manabu, leaning over toward him, and Manabu closed his eyes, sucking in a long breath, feeling his heart thudding against his ribs. There was a feather-light touch along his cheek, across his lips, then down his neck.

And there were lips on his, hot and soft yet firm – nothing like being kissed by his old girlfriend. They slipped against his, gently, tenderly, and Manabu felt himself kissing back with an urgency that surprised him.

When the lips on his parted, and he felt something firm and hot and wet probing his mouth, he shuddered. His hands gripped at Byou’s shoulders, pulling the vocalist closer, his own tongue rubbing against the other man’s.

He tipped his head back, panting, and he felt Byou start to kiss his way down his neck, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. He was going to strip him. He was going to feel those hands on his body. Manabu felt himself lift the top half of his body with surprising grace, holding his arms over his head, encouraging Byou to rid him of his T-shirt.

The garment hit the floor, and before Manabu had a chance to wonder what was coming next, there was a mouth enveloping his nipple and sucking. He found himself letting out a sound more akin to an animal than a human, grabbing the back of Byou’s head, arching against him and panting loudly.

“Let me touch you,” he moaned. “I want to touch you . . .”

Byou didn’t seem to hear him at first, moving his mouth to the other nipple and sucking it hard, letting his hand rub the one he had been pleasuring, a touch just rough enough to be exciting. He raised his head just enough to flick his tongue over the bud, teasing it to hardness.

“Byou . . . “ Manabu gasped. “Please . . .”

Byou raised his head, and the gazes of the two men met, each as heated as the other, and Manabu thought, do you want me as much as I want you . . .

The vocalist grasped Manabu’s hands and brought them to his lips, kissing the callused fingertips, then running his tongue along the side, a tease and a promise. Manabu found himself moaning softly, and when Byou slid a finger in, starting to suck, he leaned against the other man, feeling his whole body burn up.

Byou pulled Manbu close to him, kissing his neck, his breath hot on the guitarist’s skin. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I want to feel your body,” Manabu whispered. What he wanted? What a question. He wanted everything.

Byou pulled back from Manabu long enough to pull his own shirt off, then grasped the guitarist’s hands, putting them gently on his torso. Manabu responded by sliding them up and down, feeling the other man’s flat stomach, so firm and smooth, and the broadness of his chest, so different from the soft curves of a woman.

Before he knew it, he was leaning over, kissing the flesh, thinking he felt so good, so hot . . . he brushed his tongue along the skin, and when he encountered a bud, he stopped, licking back and forth across it, feeling the other man shiver against him.

He wasn’t even thinking now – he was in an erotic trance. He sucked the nipple, sliding a hand down, and down, encountering the zipper of Byou’s pants, starting to unfasten it – and then suddenly stopping. Was that too much? Was he going too fast?

But Byou put his hand on Manabu’s and said, “Keep going,” and Manabu yanked the zipper down, just wanting, needing to get to what was beneath . . .

Byou eased away from him – but just long enough to stand up next to the bed. He took both of Manabu’s hands and put them on his waistband – a message of what he wanted him to do.

Manabu shoved Byou’s pants down, and waited until the other man stepped out of them. He paused, and then pushed the underwear down as well, slowly.

The thing that met his eyes was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. True, he’d beheld plenty of male organs before – it was unavoidable in school locker rooms, men’s rooms, even backstage at lives. He’d never seen a cock offered to him for pleasure, though.

He brought his hands up to either side of it, touching it gently, as if it were a sacred relic. His fingers ran from the tip to the root, then back up again, rubbing back and forth as he went.

His eyes were fastened to the thing in front of him, memorizing every inch of it. It was . . . glorious. He bent over, gently kissing the tip of it, then pulling back.

“Keep going,” Byou said, breathlessly, running his hands over Manabu’s shoulders and back. “Go on, do whatever you want.”

Manabu leaned over, kissing it again. He let his tongue flick out, tentatively, touching it to the skin . . .

Oh, this was heavenly. He felt so hot under Manabu’s tongue . . . and then there was the sharp, salty taste , the musky scent . . . he began to lick downward, savoring it, feeling his own pants getting tighter . . . yes, he was still wearing pants, wasn’t he?

He stood up long enough to strip off his pants and underwear, his own erection springing free, and God, he didn’t know how hard he was until now. He found himself wrapping his fingers around his own cock and stroking – until Byou put his hand on his.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “I can.”

Manabu let go, and Byou took over what he had been doing, making Manabu close his eyes and let out a loud moan. Byou clearly knew his way around a cock, the way he was running his fingers down the front of his erection, then wrapping his hand all the way around it, pumping quickly.

They shifted so that they were lying on their sides on the bed, facing each other, allowing them to wrap their hands around each other’s hardness, stroking one another, Manabu trying to imitate what Byou was doing, matching the speed, the way the fingers fluttered along the shaft, the way he rubbed back and forth over the head.

It was so good, so blissfully naughty, being completely lost in male heat, in the textures and scents of another man. Manabu writhed as he caressed Byou harder faster, feeling the temperature of his own body rise, knowing if they kept this up, he was going to come hard.

But he didn’t want to do that yet. There was one more thing he wanted first.

“I want to feel you against me,” he moaned.

Byou lifted his head. “You want my cock on yours?”

“Yes,” Manabu murmured.

Byou wrapped his arms around the other man, bringing their lips together . . . and flipped them both over, so he was lying on top of Manabu. There was a moment when the guitarist felt crushed by the older man, overwhelmed by him, his chest pressing down on him, his weight holding him down.

It was dangerous, and a bit scary – and a lot thrilling.

Byou shifted his weight, pulling himself up on his elbows, and Manabu pulled his legs apart, letting Byou settle between them. And then, their cocks made contact with each other, and Manabu let out a gasp. If that thing had felt good under his tongue, in his fingers . . . it felt spectacular now.

The two men began to move together, slowly, one hardness sliding against the other, their voices becoming soft moans. “You feel so good,” Manabu whispered.

“Look at you,” Byou murmured as he began to speed up, grinding against Manabu, as Manabu lifted his hips, starting to grind back. “You’re so beautiful, so very gorgeous, more than you’ve ever been . . .”

Manabu could only lift his legs wider and higher, pushing his hips up against and again, grinding against his lover, feeling their bodies press together, all hardness and flat, smooth planes. He lifted his arms over his head, closing his eyes, losing himself entirely in their shared pleasure.

They began moving faster, rubbing against each other harder, and Byou suddenly seized onto Manabu’s wrists, holding him in place, making a shiver of dangerous thrill run through Manabu’s body – he couldn’t get away if he wanted to, and that was the last thing in the world he wanted.

Byou leaned over and nipped at Manabu’s neck, a tiny shock of pain in the warm sea of pleasure, and Manabu cried out, his whole body shivering, he was close, he felt tense all over, he just needed a little bit more . . .

The vocalist’s tongue tenderly licked at the spot he’d just bitten, and that did it. Manabu arched upward, letting out a primal cry, ecstasy of an intensity he didn’t think was possible bursting over his whole body, until he finally sank down, feeling entirely drained – in the most delicious way.

Above him, Byou thrust against him a few more times, then matched Manabu’s cry with one of his own – and Manabu felt come splattering all over his skin, just making the whole thing all the more hot an intense.

Byou collapsed atop him, and they lay there for a long moment, panting and clinging to each other, before leaning toward each other and kissing, softly.

“Thank you,” Manabu said

Byou stroked his face, tenderly – the way he did when their lovemaking began. “It was my pleasure,” he said. “A lot of pleasure.”

Manabu laughed, quietly. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy, this fulfilled – the right word for it would be “on a high.” Not even playing live could match this.

He’d had a first experience that surpassed even his wildest fantasies.

Somewhere, he was aware of Byou going to the bathroom to get wet rags to clean them up. He let his lover take care of him – and when Byou got back in bed with him, he wrapped his arms around him.

“Stay with me?” Manabu said. He wasn’t ready to let this go. He wasn’t ready to let HIM go.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Byou replied, kissing the top of his head.

Manabu snuggled against the other man, drifting off to sleep, the happy and content feeling still there. But he did say one more thing before losing consciousness – “I’m glad it was you.”

* * *

He rolled over in his sleep, flung an arm out like he usually did – and hit another person.

Manabu blinked. What was that? What had happened? You mean this wasn’t a . . .

He raised his head. Byou was lying beside him, asleep. It wasn’t a dream, it had really happened.

The other man stirred when he felt the limb lying on him. He tried to push it off, yawning, and then opened his eyes.

“Hi,” he said. “Sorry – my brain doesn’t work this early.”

“It’s okay,” Manabu said. “Nobody’s brain does.”

“You look happy,” Byou mumbled, shifting toward the other man, half-closing his eyes again.

“It’s because I am,” Manabu said, leaning over so his head was resting against Byou’s. “Thank you again for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Byou murmured. “I wanted to do that.”

“You did?” Manabu said. “You mean, all along?”

“’Course I did,” Byou said, closing his eyes fully. “You’re hot.” He reached out, letting his fingers trail along Manabu’s flat stomach. “Still can’t believe you hadn’t done that before.”

“I . . .” He shuddered a little at the touch, putting his hand atop his bandmate’s. “I want to do it again.” And then, quickly, “Not now. I mean, not now necessarily. Whenever you want to – that is, if you want to . . .”

Byou raised his head, opening his eyes, and reached up, pulling the guitarist’s head down so they could kiss. As they eased apart, he said, “Whenever you want.”

Manabu looked stunned – and thrilled. “You mean it? Really?”

“Really,” Byou said. “Any time you want me, I’ll be there for you.”

“Whether we’re on the road or not?”

“Whenever,” said Byou. “You just need to ask.”

Manabu was stunned. Surely Byou had other lovers? He’d seen him around with various women . . . and men, including guys from other bands. “Should . . . should I call you first?”

Byou suddenly hugged him. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Manabu leaned a head on his shoulder. This felt so, so nice – the way he always imagined having someone to love would feel. Although he shouldn’t be thinking like that. Byou was a friend and a bandmate, and now a part-time lover – to ask for more would be, well . . . selfish?

But he was going to linger like this for a good, long moment – or as long as Byou would let him.

“We can’t let the others know,” he said.

“Why not?” Byou said. “We’re not the first two guys in a band to do this. We sure as hell won’t be the last.”

“I don’t know how the others are going to react,” Manabu said, turning his face toward Byou’s chest. “I don’t want to risk what we have with this band.”

“I don’t think they’re going to react badly,” Byou said. “But if you want it to be our secret, it can be.”

The idea of having a secret, of meeting without the knowledge of the others to indulge their passions . . . there was something delicious about it. Manabu had to admit that the thought of that was making him almost as excited as the prospect of more sex.

And oh, how he liked the prospect of more sex. He was running his fingers along Byou’s chest already, caressing one of the nipples – and making his new lover stir beneath him.

“You want more now, do you?”

Manabu looked up at him. “Yes,” he said, breathlessly.

“Well, then . . .” Byou pulled him in, bringing their lips together once more. Suddenly, Manabu knew he had all he’d ever thought about – and more.

* * *

TWO YEARS LATER

The band was sitting around the bar, as they frequently did after lives. Or at least, three-fifths of the band was sitting there.

Rui was next to Jin, a sure sign that the new bassist was fitting in very well, thank you. Kazuki was sitting on the drummer’s other side , checking his phone every so often to see if there were any messages from Aoi. His significant other of two years did tend to surface at odd times.

“Where did Byou and Manabu go?” Rui said. “They vanished awfully quickly.

“Where they always go,” Kazuki said. “Straight up to their room and onto their bed.”

“Oh,” Rui said, looking confused. “You mean, they’re . . .”

“They’ve been for years,” Jin said. “Of course, we’re not supposed to know about it.”

“They act like it’s a secret,” Kazuki said. “And we pretend it is.”

“They don’t know we caught them in the shower backstage,” Jin said.

“Or how many times we’ve heard them through the hotel wall,” Kazuki added.

“Or in the guest room at Ruki’s party,” Jin said. “Of course, Kazuki discovered that one because he and Aoi were trying to use it first.”

“Hey!” Kazuki said. “At least we’re open about it!”

“So . . . are they in a relationship?” Rui said. “Or just having fun?”

“We don’t know,” Kazuki said. “We don’t even know if they know.”

“At this point? It probably doesn’t really matter,” Jin said.

They ordered drinks for the three of them, not even bothering to consider the question of whether they were going to see their bandmates later. They knew they weren’t.

* * *

In their room, Manabu was stretched out on the bed, waiting for Byou to come out of the bathroom.

It was definitely their room. They asked their manager to room them together as much as possible – making up some sort of story about how their sleeping habits were the most compatible out of the band.

He wasn’t sure if the manager bought their story. He hoped so. After all this time, Manabu was still turned on by the idea of this being a secret arrangement. It was a strange thing, this being friends by day, lovers by night – but they’d become masters at it.

Nothing made him warmer inside than the two of them sharing a seemingly ordinary moment – a discussion in the studio, for example, or a band meeting – and then having Byou glance over at him for just a second with a raised eyebrow, a quick half-wink . . . the tiniest promise of what was to come, visible only to him.

This bed was like so many others they’d shared their passion on during tours – plain, simple, generic. No matter, they’d never notice it once they were wrapped up in each other.

Byou opened the bathroom door and stepped out, completely naked, clothes definitely not needed at this point. His eyes swept over the equally naked man on the bed.

“You’re just as gorgeous as you were the first time we were together,” Byou said. “Maybe even more.”

“You get more beautiful every day,” Manabu said, holding his arms out to the other man.

“I don’t know about that,” Byou said lying down next to him and pulling him closer. “I just know I want to do this . . .”

He brought their lips together, the kiss long, sweet and hot, tongues brushing against each other gently. Manabu had definitely become more forward during their time together, lifting a leg to hook around Byou’s hip, grinding them together.

“Mmm,” Byou purred into his mouth and Manabu answered by getting more aggressive with his tongue, pushing it into the other man’s lips, exploring before slipping out. “Show me what else you can do with that tongue.”

Manabu was all too glad to comply. He’d honed his oral skills a lot over their time together, and he was always all too happy to put them to the test. He rolled Byou over on his back, licking his way down his chest in one long, slow stroke, pausing only when he got to a nipple, which he wrapped his lips around and started to suck.

“Oh, yes,” Byou murmured, putting his hand on the back of the other man’s head. “You know just what I like.”

Manabu did – he raised his head to swirl around the little bud before moving to the other side, lowering his head and sucking harder, flicking his tongue across it. He reached down to his own cock, running his fingers along it, just heightening his own anticipation of what was to come later.

He continued to move down the other man’s stomach, thinking that the smooth flatness was a turn-on to him no matter how many times he felt it, tasted it. He thought of all the times that Byou had pulled his shirt off for the enjoyment of the audience, and how all the fangirls had thought about what it was like to touch that torso . . . and probably none of them guessed the one who was allowed to do that was the quiet guitarist to the left side of the stage.

He reached that glorious cock that had brought him so much pleasure in so many ways, and he caressed it lovingly with his tongue, moving along the length in a slow, sensuous manner, tracing the path of a vein up the side. He felt his lover shudder and heard him murmur, “Oh, baby . . .”

Manabu shifted his position so he was kneeling astride Byou’s shoulders, and then leaned over again – an angle that allowed him to wrap his lips around the tip of his lover’s erection and slide down on it, bit by bit – and take him deep. He’d worked on this a long time, experimenting until he got the perfect angle – which Byou had only encouraged, of course, since he was the one who reaped the benefits.

He slid down, and down, and he felt hands on his ass, squeezing the cheeks, parting them, a lubed finger slowly working its way inside. This, of course, just made Manabu suck harder and move faster, going even deeper with the next thrust, nearly taking Byou into his throat – which made the older man let out a loud moan.

“Careful, I don’t want to come yet,” Byou panted. “I want you to ride me. I want to watch you. You like that, right?”

Manabu just responded with an excited moan in his throat as he sucked slower, wanting Byou to last but also wanting to savor every moment, every feel of the hardness gliding over his lips and tongue, filling his mouth – as another finger pushed into him, starting to move.

“I love watching you,” Byou said, gently scissoring his fingers within his lover. “I love how you look when you’re really into it, you look so sweet and innocent and so dirty at the same time . . .” Another finger, and Manabu let out another sound, his whole body starting to tremble.

He needed completion, fulfillment. He was aching for it.

Byou slid his fingers out, wiping them on one of the baby wipes they kept with them – they were well-prepared at this point. That was Manabu’s cue to lift his head and reach his hand out for Byou to press a bottle of lube into it.

He poured it into his hand and gently slicked the thing he’d just been pleasuring with his mouth, listening for reactions. He was rewarded with a moan that had a little bit of a whine to it – impatience, to be sure.

“You’re enough to drive a man nuts,” Byou said, as Manabu turned around, positioning himself so that he had his legs on either side of Byou’s hips, allowing himself to gently lower himself onto his lover’s cock.

“You are, too,” Manabu said, reaching back, using his hand to help Byou find the right angle, and then, finally, pushing down . . .

He gasped at the feel of the solid heat pressing inside him. There was pain at first, like there always was – bringing back memories of when Byou had first penetrated him, a few months after they started fooling around. It had really hurt at first, but Byou had held him close, kissed him gently, reassured him that it would go away quickly, that it would be worth it in the end.

His payoff for toughing it out had been bliss unlike anything he’d ever known.

He moved down now, slowly and carefully, closing his eyes as he was filled, then opening them when he paused, his body getting used to the invasion.

Manabu looked down at Byou, their eyes meeting as they both breathed heavily. Byou took his lover’s hand and brought the fingers to his mouth, kissing them with reverence. They stayed liked that as Manabu started to move, a slow and easy thrust.

He could feel Byou’s eyes on his body, moving over him, devouring him, and that was making him just as hot as the stimulation in his channel, the feel of hardness brushing over sensitive spots.

He began to move his hips harder, faster. Byou’s hands slid to his torso, finding the nipples, stroking them – and Manabu moaned loudly in answer, covering his lover’s hand with one of his own. His other hand moved down to his own cock, wrapping around it, then moving up and down the shaft – putting on a show for his lover.

It surprised him, sometimes, how uninhibited he was when he was alone with Byou.

“So beautiful,” Byou moaned, and Manabu began to move faster, hips thrusting downward, filling himself with cock again and again, hand moving at the same speed. He opened his eyes and looked down at Byou writhing beneath him, sweaty and flushed and panting and unbelievably gorgeous.

Byou’s hand came up to join Manabu’s, both of them sliding along his erection, Byou’s fingers brushing around and around the tip. Manabu felt a tightening in his belly, the trembling all over that told him his orgasm was imminent . . .

He thrust down hard, and felt Byou’s cock hit the most sensitive place within him, the one that made stars explode in his head – and he cried out his lover’s name as the come poured all over both their hands.

Manabu wanted to sink to the bed, but he kept thrusting, wanting Byou to feel the same ecstasy as well, and he was rewarded rapidly, Byou arching upward as he let out a sound that was somewhat akin to a roar, both of them finally falling to the mattress, touching and kissing and cuddling.

A long moment of lying in a blissful daze later, Byou reached over for the baby wipes, quickly cleaning both of them off.

Manabu nestled against him, sighing deeply, feeling truly happy – like he always did after they made love. And he knew he’d be able to look forward to this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

Byou had kept his word when he said Manabu could come to him anytime – he’d not taken another lover since that first night. He ran his fingers over the other man’s hair, softly.

“Maybe we should tell them,” Manabu said, suddenly.

Byou raised his head and looked at him. “Why now, after all this time?”

“Rui’s a smart guy,” Manabu said. “He might figure it out.”

“And Jin and Kazuki aren’t smart?” Byou said. He figured their bandmates had already put the pieces together a long time ago – like, for instance, the fact that the game of musical roommates stopped around the time he and Manabu became lovers.

“They haven’t said anything,” Manabu said. “Besides – I like the idea of them not knowing.”

“You get turned on by that, don’t you?” Byou said.

Manabu blushed a little. What his lover said was true – the idea of the two of them carrying on behind closed doors, of them having a delicious secret, was hotter than hell to him.

“I . . . I like it,” he said.

“Then we’ll keep it quiet,” Byou said. “Although you may have to make up a story about this.” He reached over to the nighttable and retrieved a small box, with a Justin Davis logo on it.

Manabu’s eyes lit up. “What’s that?” he said.

“Belated birthday present.” Byou opened the box and pulled out a shining silver ring with an elaborate Gothic cross on the front and matching, smaller crosses around the band. He took Manabu’s hand and slipped it on the third finger – the wedding ring finger.

Manabu stared at it. “It’s . . . it’s beautiful. Really. I don’t know why you . . .” He threw his arms around his lover, finding tears pricking his eyes.

“Because I’m long overdue in telling you that I love you,” Byou said, hugging him back. “When I first found out you’d never had a man . . . I don’t know why I asked to be your first. Ego, maybe. Or curiosity.Or just the fact that you have a hot little ass. But once it happened between us – once I touched you – I knew why. I’d been waiting for you all my life.”

“Oh, my God,” Manabu said. He’d never expected to hear words like this from Byou. Never. All this time, he’d told himself that this was just a “bandmance,” that there wasn’t anything deeper to it. “I love you too,” he said. “I love you, too . . .”

“Still want to keep this a secret from everyone?” Byou said.

Manabu paused. Secret? A complete secret? Maybe not. Hell, right now he wanted to shout from the rooftops that they loved each other – although PSC would probably frown on that. (The fangirls would be happy, though).

“They don’t have to know about all the places and times we make love, though,” he said. “We could do it backstage, in a closet, or In the bathroom during rehearsal, or . . . .”

“You really are turned on by the secrecy thing, aren’t you?”

Manabu blushed again. “Is that bad?”

“You really are adorable, aren’t you?” Byou said, leaning his head against Manabu’s. “The idea of you getting turned on by anything is good.”

Manabu hugged him closer. “I’m so glad I joined this band now,” he said. “So glad.”

“Not as glad as I am,” Byou said.

Manabu closed his eyes, thinking back to that confused kid he’d been when he first joined the band – not knowing his way around matters of the heart at all. What a long way he’d come since then.

* * *

It took less than a day before Kazuki spotted the ring as they were loading their gear into the tour van. “What’s this?” he said, grabbing Manabu’s hand. “Somebody got engaged?”

“It’s a ring, that’s all,” Manabu.

“Just a ring?” Kazuki said. “It didn’t happen to come from a particular person, did it?”

“Um . . .” said Manabu.

Jin wandered over from the band’s second van, which he had been packing up with drum equipment. “What’s this, now?”

“Manabu suddenly has a ring on his wedding finger,” Kazuki said.

“Oh? Did it just grow there?” Jin said.

“It’s just a ring,” said Manabu.

“Then maybe you won’t mind if I take it?” Jin suddenly made an over-dramatic grab for Manabu’s left hand, as if he were a villain in a silent melodrama. Manabu yelped and pulled his hand away.

“A little overprotective of just a ring, aren’t you?” Kazuki said, teasingly.

“It’s . . .” Manabu said – and suddenly found himself grabbed in an embrace by both his bandmates, one on each side, squashing him between them.

“We’re very happy for you,” Kazuki said.

“For you and Byou both,” Jin said.

Manabu looked surprised – and a bit disappointed. “You knew?”

“All along,” Kazuki said.

“You were kind of obvious,” Jin added.

“We were?” More disappointment was creeping into Manabu’s voice.

“Well, you did start rooming together all the time,” Kazuki said.

“And you were kind of always at his apartment every time I called him,” Jin said.

Rui wandered over and saw the group hug. “Hey!” he said. “What’s this, and can I get in on it?”

“Byou put a ring on it,” Kazuki said, holding up Manabu’s hand.

“Hey, congratulations!” Rui said. “So it’s official now?”

“It always was,” Manabu said. They knew all along? How much did they know?

“So how did you get together, anyway?” Rui said.

Manabu thought of their first lovemaking – the fact that Byou had come to him to find out what was wrong and found out he was a virgin , as least as far as man/man sex was concerned. And that was one sweet secret that nobody could touch – the fact that Byou had been the one to initiate him into true pleasure, and the only one who had given it to him since.

And that, more than anything, was the biggest turn-on of them all.

“It just sort of happened,” he said with a smile.

That was all they needed to know. The rest was just between him and Byou.