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puss_nd_bootsTitle: But Is It Art?
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure PWP smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, threesome, voyeurism
Pairing: Aoi X Kai X Ruki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Kai just needed to borrow Ruki’s computer for a moment. He wasn’t expecting to see that he’d been made the subject of a very special kind of art – and it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you’d put on a CD cover.
Comments: A fill for the GazettE Kink/Porn Meme. Prompt: Someone discovers that Ruki's been making fantasy art/fan art with his band mates as subjects.
It was one of those days where Kai suddenly had a leader crisis. Like those were uncommon in his life, right? But this one was a bit special.
“What do you mean, we don’t have the right cord?” he asked the rather panicky-looking staff member. Sound check was only an hour away, Uruha’s new guitar was mounted on a stand and ready to go . . . except there didn’t seem to be a way to connect it to the amp.
“Sorry, Kai-san!” the staff member said, bowing low with a look in his eyes that conveyed he expected to be hit at the very least. “We thought we had the right one, but it turns out it was, well . . .”
Oh, hell. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. On days like this, he considered Google a sacred artifact sent from the heavens. “Hold on, I’m going to . . .” He sighed and poked at the screen. “Is the service in here always this terrible?” It figured that the stage area would be a cell phone black hole.
“We didn’t know!” another staff member said, bowing again. At this rate, Kai was half-expecting them to start groveling on the floor. He wasn’t as bad as his reputation for handling the staff made him seem – really.
“I’m going backstage,” he said. ‘I’m bound to get better reception there.” He headed to the rooms where the band had already set up something of a little camp. Aoi was in one corner, poking away at his own phone – most likely on Twitter. He could hear Reita and Uruha’s voices in another room.
And there was a laptop open on the table. The Black Moral decal on the back identified it as Ruki’s. Its owner was nowhere to be seen – no matter. He’d just borrow it for a few seconds – Googling on a computer was faster, anyway. (At least the wifi here seemed to be better than the cell reception).
He found a place to buy the proper cord within five miles of the arena and quickly dialed the staff member he’d been talking to. Fortunately, there was enough reception for the guy to pick up – even though the connection was staticky.
Kai was about to just go back to the stage area when he caught sight of a file that had been saved to the desktop with his name on it. Something Ruki had meant to give him, but forgot? Probably. He’d just take a quick look while he was here. . .
The file opened. And it was most definitely not a set of instructions, or ideas for merchandise, or some new lyrics.
“Oh . . my . . . God . . .” Kai said in a voice several octaves above his normal speaking tone. He could sing soprano in a choir at this point.
He knew Ruki had artistic talent, of course. He wouldn’t be able to do all that Black Moral stuff if he didn’t. So it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d be able to do such a detailed, anatomically correct drawing of Kai.
It did surprise him, however, that the Kai in the drawing was naked, reclining on pillows and masturbating, a blissful expression on his face.
He just stared at it. Holy hell. It did look like him, didn’t it? Ruki got the proportions right. Even . . . that. But why would he draw something like this? Why . . .
“Whoa, HOT!” said a voice behind him, and Kai whirled around, protecting the computer screen with his body as if it contained the highest of military secrets. There stood Aoi, grinning ear to ear.
“It’s nothing!” Kai said.
“Oh, it’s something, all right,” Aoi said, gently pushing Kai aside.
“Aoi, I don’t think we’re supposed to be looking at . . .” But Kai’s words fell on deaf ears. The guitarist was gently sliding the computer out from behind the leader, peering at the screen.
“He seems to like the idea of you doing this a lot,” Aoi said. “Look at the detail. It’s like he’s watched you . . .”
“He hasn’t!” Kai said, waving his arms frantically. “I mean . . .”
“Are you sure?” Aoi said. “You think maybe he’s been spying on you, hmmm?”
“No!” Kai said. If his voice was high before, it was flat-out squeaky now. He could audition to be the new Japanese voice of Mickey Mouse. “I mean, Ruki doesn’t spy!”
“Well, as far as we know, he doesn’t do erotic art, either,” Aoi said. “Hey, here’s another one . . .”
This one was even worse. It was both Aoi and Kai, both on the cushions this time, on their sides, with Kai in front . . .
And it was pretty obvious what Aoi was doing to him. Especially with the hand wrapped around drawn-Kai’s erection.
“Oh, my God . . .” Kai said again. Well, hey, Ruki had real talent, didn’t he? Oh, yes, the way he drew the way Aoi’s muscles rippled and flowed, the veins standing out from his arm, the sexy look on his face as he was lost in bliss . . . the whole thing was sexy, wasn’t it? Very much so.
“You’re enjoying looking at it,” Aoi said. It was a statement, not a question.
“What?” Kai tore his eyes away from it – wait, tore his eyes away? He wasn’t looking at it THAT intently! – and looked at Aoi. Damn, he was as gorgeous as he was in the art, wasn’t he?
“Oh, yes, you’re turning bright red, aren’t you?” Aoi said, his hands on Kai’s shoulders. “You’re sexy when you blush.”
“Aoi!” Good Lord, he was making the situation worse, wasn’t he? And why the hell couldn’t Kai take his eyes away from him? He was looking at Aoi’s face, and thinking of his face in the drawing, the way he looked when lost in desire, and . . .
“It’s okay,” Aoi said. “I think the drawing’s hot, too.” The hands tightened on his shoulders. “Because I thought about that before, you know.”
“You . . .you did?”
“A hot guy like you? You bet I did. You think I haven’t imagined the way you look, the way you sound, the way you . . .”
“What the fuck is going on here?” And there was Ruki’s voice from the door, bringing them both back to reality and making Kai jump a mile in the air.
“Nothing!” Kai said. “Um, I borrowed your computer for a moment . . .” He shifted his body, making sure he covered the screen. “And I’m done using it, and we were about to leave, and . . .”
And he was bumping into it, knocking it off the table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. He grabbed at it and caught it, avoiding one disaster – and inviting another.
Ruki had seen precisely what they were looking at.
“Fuck,” he said.
“And you’re very good at drawing that,” Aoi replied.
“You weren’t supposed to see those.” The vocalist snatched the computer away from Kai. “Ever.”
“But you left it sitting around open,” Aoi said.
“I thought I was just going to be walking away for a moment!” Ruki snapped. “How was I going to know I’d end up talking to those people for half an hour?”
“I’m sorry,” Kai said, bowing even lower than their staff had to him. “I just needed to use a computer, and . . .”
“Forget it,” Ruki said, waving his hand. “In fact, forget you even saw it.”
“I don’t think he’s going to,” Aoi said.
Okay, Kai was turning beet-red again. “Aoi!”
“He appreciated your art,” Aoi said. “A lot.”
Now it was Ruki’s turn to be beet red. “WHAT?”
“Oh, you know.” Aoi put a hand on Ruki’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s nice to discover that someone you’re close to has . . . hidden talents. Especially when they’re put to such good use.”
Kai couldn’t say anything now. He could only squawk. He just stood there making noises more akin to a duck than a human being (wait a second, wasn’t Uruha supposed to be the duck?). Fortunately, he wasn’t alone, because Ruki seemed to be making similar noises. Between the two of them, they’d probably invent some sort of secret code.
Aoi just kept on speaking over all the squawking, voice as smooth as velvet. “So, tell me, Ruki, how did you come up with those pictures? I’ll bet you had that image in your mind a lot.” And the hand not on Ruki’s shoulder was on Kai’s, rubbing it, making it feel like it was on fire.
“What’s it to you?” Ruki nearly hissed – but he was making no move to get away from the hand. Furthermore, his eyes were very much fastened on Kai.
“Oh, I’d say there’s plenty to me,” Aoi said. “Especially if you like the idea of me fucking Kai so much. Would you like to watch?”
“Fuck you,” Ruki said.
“Oh, you want me to fuck you, too?” Aoi said. “Or maybe you want Kai to fuck you while I fuck him?”
This wasn’t happening, Kai thought. Aoi wasn’t going on and on like this, wasn’t putting thoughts in his head, making him think about things that had, yes, been in the back of his mind all along . . .
“You have a hell of an imagination,” Ruki told Aoi.
“No, you’re the one with the imagination,” Aoi told Ruki. “If you come up with that . . .”
And then, a knock on the backstage door, and a staffer calling, “Kai-san!” Saved by the bell. Kai couldn’t remember the last time he’d been more happy at Leader-san duties getting in the way.
“Coming!” he said, rushing away from the other two, feeling cool air on flushed skin as he moved, and did he hear Aoi say, softly, “You will be?”
Sometime in the middle of dealing with the latest crisis, a text message managed to break through the lousy reception and land in his phone. It said, “Art becomes life. After show, room 367.”
It was from Aoi. Kai felt a tightening in his stomach, and his hand tightened in response.
He figured that Ruki had gotten the same message.
* * *
Kai was supposed to be in room 369 of the hotel. He knew that quite well. It was on the cardboard sleeve his key was kept in. (He’d lost the key, and the sleeve, twice since checking in, so it was a good thing he remembered the room number).
His feet, however, stopped at room 367. Refused to go another step, in fact. His mind was willing his body to move, and it was going nowhere.
Of course, it was part for the course with everything since the discovery of Ruki’s art. The show had been even more sexually-charged that usual. Ruki seemed to be licking everything in sight, performing his hip-thrusting dances with extra gusto. Aoi was wriggling like a stripper. And Kai . . well, he had performed a record number of “drumgasms.”
They were all waiting, he knew. Waiting to follow through on Aoi’s invitation . . .
This was crazy. Utterly crazy. So of course, he was knocking on the door, wasn’t he?
It opened, and Ruki was standing there, Aoi behind him, arms around the vocalist. “Well, hi,” Aoi said. “We were wondering if we were going to have to start without you.”
“Start . . . without . . .” Oh, hell.
“Come on, you know why we’re here.” Aoi pulled Kai in, closing the door behind him. “We want Ruki to see his art come to life, don’t we?”
Ruki glanced at Aoi. “I still say you’re insane,” he said.
“Maybe,” Aoi said, wrapping his arms around Kai. “But sometimes, you need the good kind of insane around, don’t you? Keeps things interesting.”
“I still don’t believe this,” Ruki said, walking over to the edge of the bed and sitting down.
Aoi, meanwhile, was pulling Kai in for a kiss. Well, why not? It made as much sense as the rest of this. And so, Kai let himself relax into it, let his lips part softly, the other man’s tongue slip into his mouth.
And it was good. It felt wonderful, in fact. Why the hell hasn’t he thought of doing this before, of kissing this man? He leaned into it, letting his hands brush the back of Aoi’s head, his tongue pushing further into his mouth.
He could hear Ruki making a small sound of . . . interest? Pleasure? Yes, they were in the surreal situation of having his bandmate watch them together because it was his drawing that inspired the insanity. Which Kai wasn’t supposed to see in the first place.
Their lips parted, and teeth nipped at Kai’s neck. “Now, Ruki,” Aoi said, “what happened in your drawing before the moment you captured?”
“You pretty much fucking know,” Ruki said.
“Well, I don’t know.” Aoi was reaching for the buttons on Kai’s shirt. “There’s a lot of possibilities here. There’s hands, mouths, cocks, asses . . .”
“I didn’t think about it, okay?” Ruki said. “I just wanted to show . . .”
“Kai climbing Mt. Fuji?” Aoi had the shirt unbuttoned, and Kai shrugged out of it, quickly, followed by his pants and underwear. Yes, that kiss just might have made him just a teeny bit hot. So did the idea of Ruki watching them. Hell, so did the whole “climbing Mt. Fuji” remark.
“You said it, I didn’t,” Ruki said.
“Well, then . . .” Aoi moved over toward Ruki, unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re going to have to let your imagination run wild, won’t you? Tell us what you think happened. What you want to happen. What you want to watch. Oh, and while you’re at it?” He tugged at Ruki’s shirt. “You may want to get rid of these. You’re a bit overdressed for watching your fantasy come true.”
“You missed your calling, you know that?” Ruki said, starting to unfasten the garment. “You should have been a porn director.”
“Nope,” Aoi said. “That means being behind the camera. I like being looked at too much.”
By this time, Kai was naked, and he stretched out on the bed, watching Aoi and Ruki strip off. Porno was right. This was the kind of thing that supposedly happened to old-school Western rock stars back in the ‘70s, not to visual kei musicians. Visual kei musicians were supposed to spend their time hanging around Harajuku or Akihibara and playing video games.
But here he was, watching two beautiful men get naked. Okay, he might have had fantasies about both of them. Once or twice. Or three times. Guys thought that way about their bandmates all the time, right? Right?
And before he knew it, his hand was sliding down over his own chest, headed south at a rapid pace.
This, of course, caught the attention of the now-naked Aoi. “Oh, look at this,” he told Ruki. “He’s imitating your first drawing. That’s the fantasy you had, isn’t it? The two drawings connected together? Kai touching himself, thinking he’s alone, and then I come in and see him . . .”
And, damn, this was starting to form a picture in Kai’s mind, vivid as day. Him lying on a bed, alone, touching himself, moaning . . . thinking of Aoi. And then, the door opening, and Aoi walking in, seeing him . . .
As if he could read Kai’s mind, Aoi strode up to the bed, looking down at him. “Well, what do we have here?” he said.
“Oh!” Kai jumped, blushing, playing his part of being caught to the hilt. “I’m sorry . . . I mean, I didn’t mean to . . .I mean . . .”
“Oh, you meant to,” Aoi said, reaching down and running his fingers over Kai’s erection. “This says that you did. What were you thinking about, Kai? Were you thinking about me?”
“I . . .” Kai stammered. “That is, um . . .”
“You were thinking about my hands on your cock, weren’t you? You wanted me to stroke you like you were doing to yourself. Slow and easy . . . making sure I touch all the nice places. The moan zones.”
With that, he swept his thumb over the tip of Kai’s erection, making him leap and cry out. The thumb kept going, down the side, then back up again . . .
“Or maybe it was my tongue you were thinking about,” Aoi said. “Licking you like this . . .” He bent over, sweeping his tongue over the tip of the other man’s cock, swirling it around . . . and making sure that what he was doing was very visible to their audience of one.
“What is it you want?” Aoi murmured, before licking again, running his tongue down one side of Kai’s hardness, then back up, tickling just under the head, making the man shudder. “Tell me.”
“I . . .” Kai glanced over at Ruki. Their bandmate was watching them with hungry eyes, sweeping them over Kai’s body, seeming to devour him.
“No, don’t be shy.” Aoi said, reaching up, fingers finding a nipple and gently squeezing it. Kai cried out again. “Tell me.” And his thumb brushed back and forth over the little bud, making Kai shudder and push his hips forward.
“Fuck me,” Kai gasped. “Fuck me, please . . .”
“What was that?” Aoi grasped both nipples, pinching just hard enough to be right at the border between pleasure and pain.
“Aaaah!” Kai cried. “Fuck me, please, I need it . . .”
“Need what, Kai?”
Kai glanced over at Ruki again. His bandmate was breathing heavily, skin flushed, nipples standing out in hard peaks . . . and Kai had an urge to lick them. “Your cock,” he said. “I want your cock in me.” (Was he saying that to Ruki? Or Aoi? Or both?)
“Good boy.” Aoi reached next to his bed, for a bottle of liquid lube (oh, of course he’d have lube always at the ready. This was Aoi they were talking). “You’re going to get it – as much as you can handle.” He coated a finger, and began to push it into the other man.
“Ooohhh,” Kai gasped, tipping his hips back, trying to get as much of the invading digit inside him as possible. The insanity was now reaching a new level. Truth be told, Kai usually preferred to be on top, but there was something to be said for being on the other end with someone really skilled.
And Aoi had the skills, all right. That finger darted around inside him, teasing him, opening him up and making him feel good while he was at it.
When the second digit slipped inside, Kai let out a louder moan – and locked eyes with Ruki, who now had his hand wrapped around his own cock, beginning a slow stroke. Oh, God, what an erotic sight, knowing Ruki was getting off on watching him with Aoi, that he was getting pleasure from Kai’s pleasure.
And Kai decided he was going to put on a show for the other man, reaching for his own nipple, caressing it and moaning as Aoi fucked him with his fingers, starting to scissor them.
“You want to take a lot of me, don’t you?” Aoi said. “More than you’ve ever taken from any other man?”
“Yes,” Kai moaned.
“You want me to fill you until you think you’re going to burst?” And the third finger slipped in, bringing a fresh moan from Kai.
“Oh, please, Aoi . . .”
“Look at how much you want it.” And, indeed, Kai was thrusting back against the fingers, putting on a show . . . and watching Ruki the whole time.
The other man’s eyes devouring him were pleasuring him almost as much as the fingers in his body.
“I need it,” Kai moaned . . . as he felt the fingers slide out of him, and Aoi positioning him on his side, matching the pose in the picture. He tilted his hips back as they moved around, fitting their bodies into the most comfortable possible position.
And then, he felt Aoi’s cock push against him, into him, filling him little by little .
He looked over at Ruki again, and the other man was leaning over, tongue moistening his lips, fingers continuing to stroke his own erection . . .
“Oh, fuck, Kai, you feel so goddamn good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Aoi moaned, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder, breaking character for their little put-on-for-Ruki demonstration.
Kai reached up, touching Aoi’s hair, and the other man raised his head, both of them tilting their faces so they could kiss. Kai gently teased his lover’s lips with his tongue, saying to him without words, it doesn’t matter if we didn’t do this before – we can make up for lost time now.
When they felt ready, they started to move together, to thrust, Aoi sliding into Kai, then out again, a curious dance given their positions, but an effective one indeed
Kai leaned his head backward, purring in pleasure. This wasn’t a position he had a lot of experience with, but it was a nice one. He felt enveloped and surrounded, his back pressed against Aoi’s chest,, their legs pressed together, and that cock filling him, and filling him more, then slipping out . . .
It was a cock and a half, too. Aoi was so nicely big, seemingly curved to hit all Kai’s sensitive spots, and oh, yes, was that a piercing at the end rubbing against his prostate so maddeningly? It was, it was indeed.
Kai found himself moaning loudly, thrusting against Aoi harder and faster, wanting more and more and . . .
There was the sound of another moan, louder than his own. Kai opened his eyes and saw Ruki, hand moving on his cock faster, moaning, “Oh, fuck, you two are so goddamn beautiful . . .”
Kai looked over his shoulder, exchanged a glance with Aoi, and then, they shifted position, drawing themselves up so they were both kneeling, Kai in front of Aoi, without breaking the penetration at all.
Then, Kai leaned way over, taking Ruki’s cock in his lips.
“Aaaahhh, oh, oh FUCK!” the vocalist cried as Kai began to slide down on him, and down some more. The position allowed him to give a very thorough blow job, and Kai intended to do just that.
The bandleader closed his eyes, sighing in bliss as he moved his head back, the lovely cock sliding over his lips and tongue, as the other lovely cock started to pump in and out of his ass again.
He heard Ruki groan in pleasure, inside his own fantasy, and felt him grab the back of Kai’s head, holding him in place. Not that Kai was exactly going anywhere. Not when he was being filled from both ends, a vessel for pleasure,
Aoi thrust harder, faster, and Kai felt that wonderful little piece of jewelry rub against him, tickling him, making tingles run through his body . . . and inspiring him to suck Ruki harder, faster.
He heard both men moaning his name, both of them murmuring that he made them feel so good, that he was so damn hot and sexy, and that was on top of the hot, musky scent and taste, the feel of hands gripping his hips, the little shivers that ran through him with every contact against his prostate.
He was getting close, so damn close, he knew he wasn’t going to need much more, and then there was a hand wrapping around his cock, the fingers gently stroking . . .
Kai cried out around Ruki’s cock, sending vibrations running through the other man’s body, and felt ecstasy rush through him like an ocean. He felt it go on, and on, seeming never to end . . .
And as he felt the last shivers, he heard Ruki cry out as well, then Aoi thrust forward hard, filling Kai with hot come from both ends. He thought he was going to overflow, and that would be just fine – in fact, he’d welcome it.
The three of them sagged to the bed, and Kai kissed Ruki, then leaned back to kiss Aoi, then watched as the other two men kissed each other. They snuggled up together on top of the coverlet – it was well-known how much Ruki hated hotel sheets.
“Any more drawings of yours we should know about?” Aoi said, leaning over to kiss Ruki again.
“I’m not telling you,” Ruki replied.
“We’ll just go in your computer again,” Aoi teased.
“The hell you will,” Ruki said. “I’m putting a password on that thing.”
“You don’t want us to see your new art?” Aoi said.
“What new art?”
“The art that’s going to be inspired by this, of course. What just happened.”
Ruki sighed, leaned over and poked Kai, gently “Will you please tell him I don’t draw to feed his ego?”
But Kai just relaxed, and snuggled against the two of them, and sighed with contentment. He didn’t care about the art anymore – what Ruki did before, or what he was going to do. Not that it wasn’t beautiful, and hot.
No, what mattered was the aftermath. He’d had some new experiences tonight. He’d like to keep on having them.
If Aoi was, as Ruki said, a would-be porn director, Kai was all too happy to be his star.
* * *
Of course, best of intentions often go awry, and things we say we’re going to do frequently don’t get done. Like, for instance, putting a password on one’s computer.
They were back at the office a few days later. Their meeting had just broken up. Ruki was out in the hall just outside the meeting room; he’d been waylaid by a kohei who wanted to get his attention.
Good thing he wasn’t going far, because his computer was still in the meeting room, still turned on.
Which Uruha remembered just as he was going out the door. He was supposed to meet up with a friend of his at a place several blocks from the office – and he’d forgotten where the place was. He could always look at it on his phone, but . . .
A full computer gave you a more detailed map. And, hey, didn’t Ruki have his computer at the meeting today? Maybe it was still in there?
Uruha found what he was looking for, all right. And then, he noticed something on the desktop . . .
“Hey,” he said. “What’s this file with my name on it?”
Chapter: Standalone
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure PWP smut
Warnings: Male/male sex, threesome, voyeurism
Pairing: Aoi X Kai X Ruki
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: Kai just needed to borrow Ruki’s computer for a moment. He wasn’t expecting to see that he’d been made the subject of a very special kind of art – and it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you’d put on a CD cover.
Comments: A fill for the GazettE Kink/Porn Meme. Prompt: Someone discovers that Ruki's been making fantasy art/fan art with his band mates as subjects.
It was one of those days where Kai suddenly had a leader crisis. Like those were uncommon in his life, right? But this one was a bit special.
“What do you mean, we don’t have the right cord?” he asked the rather panicky-looking staff member. Sound check was only an hour away, Uruha’s new guitar was mounted on a stand and ready to go . . . except there didn’t seem to be a way to connect it to the amp.
“Sorry, Kai-san!” the staff member said, bowing low with a look in his eyes that conveyed he expected to be hit at the very least. “We thought we had the right one, but it turns out it was, well . . .”
Oh, hell. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. On days like this, he considered Google a sacred artifact sent from the heavens. “Hold on, I’m going to . . .” He sighed and poked at the screen. “Is the service in here always this terrible?” It figured that the stage area would be a cell phone black hole.
“We didn’t know!” another staff member said, bowing again. At this rate, Kai was half-expecting them to start groveling on the floor. He wasn’t as bad as his reputation for handling the staff made him seem – really.
“I’m going backstage,” he said. ‘I’m bound to get better reception there.” He headed to the rooms where the band had already set up something of a little camp. Aoi was in one corner, poking away at his own phone – most likely on Twitter. He could hear Reita and Uruha’s voices in another room.
And there was a laptop open on the table. The Black Moral decal on the back identified it as Ruki’s. Its owner was nowhere to be seen – no matter. He’d just borrow it for a few seconds – Googling on a computer was faster, anyway. (At least the wifi here seemed to be better than the cell reception).
He found a place to buy the proper cord within five miles of the arena and quickly dialed the staff member he’d been talking to. Fortunately, there was enough reception for the guy to pick up – even though the connection was staticky.
Kai was about to just go back to the stage area when he caught sight of a file that had been saved to the desktop with his name on it. Something Ruki had meant to give him, but forgot? Probably. He’d just take a quick look while he was here. . .
The file opened. And it was most definitely not a set of instructions, or ideas for merchandise, or some new lyrics.
“Oh . . my . . . God . . .” Kai said in a voice several octaves above his normal speaking tone. He could sing soprano in a choir at this point.
He knew Ruki had artistic talent, of course. He wouldn’t be able to do all that Black Moral stuff if he didn’t. So it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d be able to do such a detailed, anatomically correct drawing of Kai.
It did surprise him, however, that the Kai in the drawing was naked, reclining on pillows and masturbating, a blissful expression on his face.
He just stared at it. Holy hell. It did look like him, didn’t it? Ruki got the proportions right. Even . . . that. But why would he draw something like this? Why . . .
“Whoa, HOT!” said a voice behind him, and Kai whirled around, protecting the computer screen with his body as if it contained the highest of military secrets. There stood Aoi, grinning ear to ear.
“It’s nothing!” Kai said.
“Oh, it’s something, all right,” Aoi said, gently pushing Kai aside.
“Aoi, I don’t think we’re supposed to be looking at . . .” But Kai’s words fell on deaf ears. The guitarist was gently sliding the computer out from behind the leader, peering at the screen.
“He seems to like the idea of you doing this a lot,” Aoi said. “Look at the detail. It’s like he’s watched you . . .”
“He hasn’t!” Kai said, waving his arms frantically. “I mean . . .”
“Are you sure?” Aoi said. “You think maybe he’s been spying on you, hmmm?”
“No!” Kai said. If his voice was high before, it was flat-out squeaky now. He could audition to be the new Japanese voice of Mickey Mouse. “I mean, Ruki doesn’t spy!”
“Well, as far as we know, he doesn’t do erotic art, either,” Aoi said. “Hey, here’s another one . . .”
This one was even worse. It was both Aoi and Kai, both on the cushions this time, on their sides, with Kai in front . . .
And it was pretty obvious what Aoi was doing to him. Especially with the hand wrapped around drawn-Kai’s erection.
“Oh, my God . . .” Kai said again. Well, hey, Ruki had real talent, didn’t he? Oh, yes, the way he drew the way Aoi’s muscles rippled and flowed, the veins standing out from his arm, the sexy look on his face as he was lost in bliss . . . the whole thing was sexy, wasn’t it? Very much so.
“You’re enjoying looking at it,” Aoi said. It was a statement, not a question.
“What?” Kai tore his eyes away from it – wait, tore his eyes away? He wasn’t looking at it THAT intently! – and looked at Aoi. Damn, he was as gorgeous as he was in the art, wasn’t he?
“Oh, yes, you’re turning bright red, aren’t you?” Aoi said, his hands on Kai’s shoulders. “You’re sexy when you blush.”
“Aoi!” Good Lord, he was making the situation worse, wasn’t he? And why the hell couldn’t Kai take his eyes away from him? He was looking at Aoi’s face, and thinking of his face in the drawing, the way he looked when lost in desire, and . . .
“It’s okay,” Aoi said. “I think the drawing’s hot, too.” The hands tightened on his shoulders. “Because I thought about that before, you know.”
“You . . .you did?”
“A hot guy like you? You bet I did. You think I haven’t imagined the way you look, the way you sound, the way you . . .”
“What the fuck is going on here?” And there was Ruki’s voice from the door, bringing them both back to reality and making Kai jump a mile in the air.
“Nothing!” Kai said. “Um, I borrowed your computer for a moment . . .” He shifted his body, making sure he covered the screen. “And I’m done using it, and we were about to leave, and . . .”
And he was bumping into it, knocking it off the table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. He grabbed at it and caught it, avoiding one disaster – and inviting another.
Ruki had seen precisely what they were looking at.
“Fuck,” he said.
“And you’re very good at drawing that,” Aoi replied.
“You weren’t supposed to see those.” The vocalist snatched the computer away from Kai. “Ever.”
“But you left it sitting around open,” Aoi said.
“I thought I was just going to be walking away for a moment!” Ruki snapped. “How was I going to know I’d end up talking to those people for half an hour?”
“I’m sorry,” Kai said, bowing even lower than their staff had to him. “I just needed to use a computer, and . . .”
“Forget it,” Ruki said, waving his hand. “In fact, forget you even saw it.”
“I don’t think he’s going to,” Aoi said.
Okay, Kai was turning beet-red again. “Aoi!”
“He appreciated your art,” Aoi said. “A lot.”
Now it was Ruki’s turn to be beet red. “WHAT?”
“Oh, you know.” Aoi put a hand on Ruki’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s nice to discover that someone you’re close to has . . . hidden talents. Especially when they’re put to such good use.”
Kai couldn’t say anything now. He could only squawk. He just stood there making noises more akin to a duck than a human being (wait a second, wasn’t Uruha supposed to be the duck?). Fortunately, he wasn’t alone, because Ruki seemed to be making similar noises. Between the two of them, they’d probably invent some sort of secret code.
Aoi just kept on speaking over all the squawking, voice as smooth as velvet. “So, tell me, Ruki, how did you come up with those pictures? I’ll bet you had that image in your mind a lot.” And the hand not on Ruki’s shoulder was on Kai’s, rubbing it, making it feel like it was on fire.
“What’s it to you?” Ruki nearly hissed – but he was making no move to get away from the hand. Furthermore, his eyes were very much fastened on Kai.
“Oh, I’d say there’s plenty to me,” Aoi said. “Especially if you like the idea of me fucking Kai so much. Would you like to watch?”
“Fuck you,” Ruki said.
“Oh, you want me to fuck you, too?” Aoi said. “Or maybe you want Kai to fuck you while I fuck him?”
This wasn’t happening, Kai thought. Aoi wasn’t going on and on like this, wasn’t putting thoughts in his head, making him think about things that had, yes, been in the back of his mind all along . . .
“You have a hell of an imagination,” Ruki told Aoi.
“No, you’re the one with the imagination,” Aoi told Ruki. “If you come up with that . . .”
And then, a knock on the backstage door, and a staffer calling, “Kai-san!” Saved by the bell. Kai couldn’t remember the last time he’d been more happy at Leader-san duties getting in the way.
“Coming!” he said, rushing away from the other two, feeling cool air on flushed skin as he moved, and did he hear Aoi say, softly, “You will be?”
Sometime in the middle of dealing with the latest crisis, a text message managed to break through the lousy reception and land in his phone. It said, “Art becomes life. After show, room 367.”
It was from Aoi. Kai felt a tightening in his stomach, and his hand tightened in response.
He figured that Ruki had gotten the same message.
* * *
Kai was supposed to be in room 369 of the hotel. He knew that quite well. It was on the cardboard sleeve his key was kept in. (He’d lost the key, and the sleeve, twice since checking in, so it was a good thing he remembered the room number).
His feet, however, stopped at room 367. Refused to go another step, in fact. His mind was willing his body to move, and it was going nowhere.
Of course, it was part for the course with everything since the discovery of Ruki’s art. The show had been even more sexually-charged that usual. Ruki seemed to be licking everything in sight, performing his hip-thrusting dances with extra gusto. Aoi was wriggling like a stripper. And Kai . . well, he had performed a record number of “drumgasms.”
They were all waiting, he knew. Waiting to follow through on Aoi’s invitation . . .
This was crazy. Utterly crazy. So of course, he was knocking on the door, wasn’t he?
It opened, and Ruki was standing there, Aoi behind him, arms around the vocalist. “Well, hi,” Aoi said. “We were wondering if we were going to have to start without you.”
“Start . . . without . . .” Oh, hell.
“Come on, you know why we’re here.” Aoi pulled Kai in, closing the door behind him. “We want Ruki to see his art come to life, don’t we?”
Ruki glanced at Aoi. “I still say you’re insane,” he said.
“Maybe,” Aoi said, wrapping his arms around Kai. “But sometimes, you need the good kind of insane around, don’t you? Keeps things interesting.”
“I still don’t believe this,” Ruki said, walking over to the edge of the bed and sitting down.
Aoi, meanwhile, was pulling Kai in for a kiss. Well, why not? It made as much sense as the rest of this. And so, Kai let himself relax into it, let his lips part softly, the other man’s tongue slip into his mouth.
And it was good. It felt wonderful, in fact. Why the hell hasn’t he thought of doing this before, of kissing this man? He leaned into it, letting his hands brush the back of Aoi’s head, his tongue pushing further into his mouth.
He could hear Ruki making a small sound of . . . interest? Pleasure? Yes, they were in the surreal situation of having his bandmate watch them together because it was his drawing that inspired the insanity. Which Kai wasn’t supposed to see in the first place.
Their lips parted, and teeth nipped at Kai’s neck. “Now, Ruki,” Aoi said, “what happened in your drawing before the moment you captured?”
“You pretty much fucking know,” Ruki said.
“Well, I don’t know.” Aoi was reaching for the buttons on Kai’s shirt. “There’s a lot of possibilities here. There’s hands, mouths, cocks, asses . . .”
“I didn’t think about it, okay?” Ruki said. “I just wanted to show . . .”
“Kai climbing Mt. Fuji?” Aoi had the shirt unbuttoned, and Kai shrugged out of it, quickly, followed by his pants and underwear. Yes, that kiss just might have made him just a teeny bit hot. So did the idea of Ruki watching them. Hell, so did the whole “climbing Mt. Fuji” remark.
“You said it, I didn’t,” Ruki said.
“Well, then . . .” Aoi moved over toward Ruki, unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re going to have to let your imagination run wild, won’t you? Tell us what you think happened. What you want to happen. What you want to watch. Oh, and while you’re at it?” He tugged at Ruki’s shirt. “You may want to get rid of these. You’re a bit overdressed for watching your fantasy come true.”
“You missed your calling, you know that?” Ruki said, starting to unfasten the garment. “You should have been a porn director.”
“Nope,” Aoi said. “That means being behind the camera. I like being looked at too much.”
By this time, Kai was naked, and he stretched out on the bed, watching Aoi and Ruki strip off. Porno was right. This was the kind of thing that supposedly happened to old-school Western rock stars back in the ‘70s, not to visual kei musicians. Visual kei musicians were supposed to spend their time hanging around Harajuku or Akihibara and playing video games.
But here he was, watching two beautiful men get naked. Okay, he might have had fantasies about both of them. Once or twice. Or three times. Guys thought that way about their bandmates all the time, right? Right?
And before he knew it, his hand was sliding down over his own chest, headed south at a rapid pace.
This, of course, caught the attention of the now-naked Aoi. “Oh, look at this,” he told Ruki. “He’s imitating your first drawing. That’s the fantasy you had, isn’t it? The two drawings connected together? Kai touching himself, thinking he’s alone, and then I come in and see him . . .”
And, damn, this was starting to form a picture in Kai’s mind, vivid as day. Him lying on a bed, alone, touching himself, moaning . . . thinking of Aoi. And then, the door opening, and Aoi walking in, seeing him . . .
As if he could read Kai’s mind, Aoi strode up to the bed, looking down at him. “Well, what do we have here?” he said.
“Oh!” Kai jumped, blushing, playing his part of being caught to the hilt. “I’m sorry . . . I mean, I didn’t mean to . . .I mean . . .”
“Oh, you meant to,” Aoi said, reaching down and running his fingers over Kai’s erection. “This says that you did. What were you thinking about, Kai? Were you thinking about me?”
“I . . .” Kai stammered. “That is, um . . .”
“You were thinking about my hands on your cock, weren’t you? You wanted me to stroke you like you were doing to yourself. Slow and easy . . . making sure I touch all the nice places. The moan zones.”
With that, he swept his thumb over the tip of Kai’s erection, making him leap and cry out. The thumb kept going, down the side, then back up again . . .
“Or maybe it was my tongue you were thinking about,” Aoi said. “Licking you like this . . .” He bent over, sweeping his tongue over the tip of the other man’s cock, swirling it around . . . and making sure that what he was doing was very visible to their audience of one.
“What is it you want?” Aoi murmured, before licking again, running his tongue down one side of Kai’s hardness, then back up, tickling just under the head, making the man shudder. “Tell me.”
“I . . .” Kai glanced over at Ruki. Their bandmate was watching them with hungry eyes, sweeping them over Kai’s body, seeming to devour him.
“No, don’t be shy.” Aoi said, reaching up, fingers finding a nipple and gently squeezing it. Kai cried out again. “Tell me.” And his thumb brushed back and forth over the little bud, making Kai shudder and push his hips forward.
“Fuck me,” Kai gasped. “Fuck me, please . . .”
“What was that?” Aoi grasped both nipples, pinching just hard enough to be right at the border between pleasure and pain.
“Aaaah!” Kai cried. “Fuck me, please, I need it . . .”
“Need what, Kai?”
Kai glanced over at Ruki again. His bandmate was breathing heavily, skin flushed, nipples standing out in hard peaks . . . and Kai had an urge to lick them. “Your cock,” he said. “I want your cock in me.” (Was he saying that to Ruki? Or Aoi? Or both?)
“Good boy.” Aoi reached next to his bed, for a bottle of liquid lube (oh, of course he’d have lube always at the ready. This was Aoi they were talking). “You’re going to get it – as much as you can handle.” He coated a finger, and began to push it into the other man.
“Ooohhh,” Kai gasped, tipping his hips back, trying to get as much of the invading digit inside him as possible. The insanity was now reaching a new level. Truth be told, Kai usually preferred to be on top, but there was something to be said for being on the other end with someone really skilled.
And Aoi had the skills, all right. That finger darted around inside him, teasing him, opening him up and making him feel good while he was at it.
When the second digit slipped inside, Kai let out a louder moan – and locked eyes with Ruki, who now had his hand wrapped around his own cock, beginning a slow stroke. Oh, God, what an erotic sight, knowing Ruki was getting off on watching him with Aoi, that he was getting pleasure from Kai’s pleasure.
And Kai decided he was going to put on a show for the other man, reaching for his own nipple, caressing it and moaning as Aoi fucked him with his fingers, starting to scissor them.
“You want to take a lot of me, don’t you?” Aoi said. “More than you’ve ever taken from any other man?”
“Yes,” Kai moaned.
“You want me to fill you until you think you’re going to burst?” And the third finger slipped in, bringing a fresh moan from Kai.
“Oh, please, Aoi . . .”
“Look at how much you want it.” And, indeed, Kai was thrusting back against the fingers, putting on a show . . . and watching Ruki the whole time.
The other man’s eyes devouring him were pleasuring him almost as much as the fingers in his body.
“I need it,” Kai moaned . . . as he felt the fingers slide out of him, and Aoi positioning him on his side, matching the pose in the picture. He tilted his hips back as they moved around, fitting their bodies into the most comfortable possible position.
And then, he felt Aoi’s cock push against him, into him, filling him little by little .
He looked over at Ruki again, and the other man was leaning over, tongue moistening his lips, fingers continuing to stroke his own erection . . .
“Oh, fuck, Kai, you feel so goddamn good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Aoi moaned, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder, breaking character for their little put-on-for-Ruki demonstration.
Kai reached up, touching Aoi’s hair, and the other man raised his head, both of them tilting their faces so they could kiss. Kai gently teased his lover’s lips with his tongue, saying to him without words, it doesn’t matter if we didn’t do this before – we can make up for lost time now.
When they felt ready, they started to move together, to thrust, Aoi sliding into Kai, then out again, a curious dance given their positions, but an effective one indeed
Kai leaned his head backward, purring in pleasure. This wasn’t a position he had a lot of experience with, but it was a nice one. He felt enveloped and surrounded, his back pressed against Aoi’s chest,, their legs pressed together, and that cock filling him, and filling him more, then slipping out . . .
It was a cock and a half, too. Aoi was so nicely big, seemingly curved to hit all Kai’s sensitive spots, and oh, yes, was that a piercing at the end rubbing against his prostate so maddeningly? It was, it was indeed.
Kai found himself moaning loudly, thrusting against Aoi harder and faster, wanting more and more and . . .
There was the sound of another moan, louder than his own. Kai opened his eyes and saw Ruki, hand moving on his cock faster, moaning, “Oh, fuck, you two are so goddamn beautiful . . .”
Kai looked over his shoulder, exchanged a glance with Aoi, and then, they shifted position, drawing themselves up so they were both kneeling, Kai in front of Aoi, without breaking the penetration at all.
Then, Kai leaned way over, taking Ruki’s cock in his lips.
“Aaaahhh, oh, oh FUCK!” the vocalist cried as Kai began to slide down on him, and down some more. The position allowed him to give a very thorough blow job, and Kai intended to do just that.
The bandleader closed his eyes, sighing in bliss as he moved his head back, the lovely cock sliding over his lips and tongue, as the other lovely cock started to pump in and out of his ass again.
He heard Ruki groan in pleasure, inside his own fantasy, and felt him grab the back of Kai’s head, holding him in place. Not that Kai was exactly going anywhere. Not when he was being filled from both ends, a vessel for pleasure,
Aoi thrust harder, faster, and Kai felt that wonderful little piece of jewelry rub against him, tickling him, making tingles run through his body . . . and inspiring him to suck Ruki harder, faster.
He heard both men moaning his name, both of them murmuring that he made them feel so good, that he was so damn hot and sexy, and that was on top of the hot, musky scent and taste, the feel of hands gripping his hips, the little shivers that ran through him with every contact against his prostate.
He was getting close, so damn close, he knew he wasn’t going to need much more, and then there was a hand wrapping around his cock, the fingers gently stroking . . .
Kai cried out around Ruki’s cock, sending vibrations running through the other man’s body, and felt ecstasy rush through him like an ocean. He felt it go on, and on, seeming never to end . . .
And as he felt the last shivers, he heard Ruki cry out as well, then Aoi thrust forward hard, filling Kai with hot come from both ends. He thought he was going to overflow, and that would be just fine – in fact, he’d welcome it.
The three of them sagged to the bed, and Kai kissed Ruki, then leaned back to kiss Aoi, then watched as the other two men kissed each other. They snuggled up together on top of the coverlet – it was well-known how much Ruki hated hotel sheets.
“Any more drawings of yours we should know about?” Aoi said, leaning over to kiss Ruki again.
“I’m not telling you,” Ruki replied.
“We’ll just go in your computer again,” Aoi teased.
“The hell you will,” Ruki said. “I’m putting a password on that thing.”
“You don’t want us to see your new art?” Aoi said.
“What new art?”
“The art that’s going to be inspired by this, of course. What just happened.”
Ruki sighed, leaned over and poked Kai, gently “Will you please tell him I don’t draw to feed his ego?”
But Kai just relaxed, and snuggled against the two of them, and sighed with contentment. He didn’t care about the art anymore – what Ruki did before, or what he was going to do. Not that it wasn’t beautiful, and hot.
No, what mattered was the aftermath. He’d had some new experiences tonight. He’d like to keep on having them.
If Aoi was, as Ruki said, a would-be porn director, Kai was all too happy to be his star.
* * *
Of course, best of intentions often go awry, and things we say we’re going to do frequently don’t get done. Like, for instance, putting a password on one’s computer.
They were back at the office a few days later. Their meeting had just broken up. Ruki was out in the hall just outside the meeting room; he’d been waylaid by a kohei who wanted to get his attention.
Good thing he wasn’t going far, because his computer was still in the meeting room, still turned on.
Which Uruha remembered just as he was going out the door. He was supposed to meet up with a friend of his at a place several blocks from the office – and he’d forgotten where the place was. He could always look at it on his phone, but . . .
A full computer gave you a more detailed map. And, hey, didn’t Ruki have his computer at the meeting today? Maybe it was still in there?
Uruha found what he was looking for, all right. And then, he noticed something on the desktop . . .
“Hey,” he said. “What’s this file with my name on it?”
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Date: 2013-03-02 05:48 am (UTC)