Pairing: Reita (the GazettE)/Aoi (the GazettE)/Miyavi (solo, SKIN)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Maybe their relationship isn’t exactly orthodox… True, it’s just a little complicated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? At least, that’s what Aoi hopes, but uncertainty isn’t as easy to dispel as he’d like for it to be.
Comments: Sequel to In Good Company and Who Needs an Alarm Clock?. This is ridiculous. XD I had not planned for this fic to reach this length, but it did and… well, what can you do? *LOL* I was planning on the beginning of it to be a bit different, but, well, something happened somewhere along the way and it wound up like this instead. I like it better this way. This was so much fun to write, even though I got a bit stuck in some places, wondering what to do next. This pairing has really grown on me. I hope you readers enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Part One can be found here.
Aoi expected Miyavi to finish what he was saying, but he didn’t. Instead, he took the ‘actions are better than words’ approach, promptly and deftly undoing the button and the zipper of Reita’s pants, freeing Reita’s erection from the confining material and stroking it lazily. Aoi decided – or rather, was firmly reminded – in that moment that actions most definitely were better than words, and he had the idea that Reita believed that as well. If Reita’s low, throaty moan was any indication, then yes, Reita and Aoi were in perfect agreement.
“Oh. Oh, god,” Aoi whispered, his fingers and his cock twitching. His pants felt entirely too tight and his entire body ached; he wanted to touch them. He wanted to touch himself, watching them like that. But he couldn’t – Reita and Miyavi had made quite sure of that.
Miyavi smiled almost sweetly at Aoi as his hand continued to work over Reita’s length, stroking and squeezing, thumb rubbing over the head every now and again. “Don’t worry baby,” Miyavi purred, and for an instant, Aoi thought that Miyavi was talking to Reita, but his next words convinced Aoi that they weren’t. “We’ll get to you soon. I promise you.”
Aoi didn’t doubt him, and Aoi wasn’t complaining, exactly. He always enjoyed watching them together, but the fact that he was watching and he couldn’t touch either of them or himself… it was torture, plain and simple. However, Aoi would have been lying if he’d said that he wasn’t enjoying himself, because he was.
Miyavi kept on stroking Reita’s cock until Reita’s hips were snapping forward and Reita was shuddering against Miyavi and gasping insensible words against Miyavi’s shoulder. Miyavi rubbed the palm of his hand over the head of Reita’s cock before he stopped altogether, and Reita made a noise that sounded very much like a whine of protest.
Miyavi licked the palm of his hand, and then crooked a finger at Aoi, beckoning him. “Come here, Aoi-chan. Looks like your pants are getting a little too tight, as well. Rei and I can take care of that for you, since we’ve made certain that you can’t.”
Aoi didn’t need to be told twice. He went to them on shaky legs, cursing himself for being so fucking weak-kneed when it came to them. They always reduced him to this.
“Want to take his pants off for him, Rei?” Miyavi asked, fingers disentangling themselves from Reita’s hair and running lightly over Reita’s cheek. “I’ll keep him steady while you do it. Not so sure I trust his balance right now~.”
Reita pulled Aoi close, pressing his lips to Aoi’s forehead as his fingers worked to undo Aoi’s pants. Reita’s hands were shaking, though only slightly, barely noticeable. Conversely, Miyavi’s hands weren’t shaking at all, Aoi realized as Miyavi slid his arms around Aoi’s waist from behind, holding onto him as Reita began tugging both Aoi’s pants and his boxers down his hips and legs. Though Miyavi’s hands were quite steady, his breathing wasn’t. It was slightly erratic and hot against Aoi’s ear, and for some reason, Aoi found it insanely erotic and he shivered against Miyavi without really meaning to.
“Lift your right foot, Aoi,” Reita instructed, and Aoi did as he was told, though it was difficult to think well enough to do much of anything with Miyavi sucking on his earlobe like he currently was. Within the span of a second or two, Aoi was lifting his left foot and stepping out of his pants and boxers completely, thankful for the arms firmly wrapped around his waist, because he was so fucking lost in his desire at that moment – the room was spinning, he was certain – that he wasn’t entirely sure he would have managed to keep his balance otherwise.
Reita pressed the lightest of kisses to the tip of Aoi’s cock and Aoi shuddered against Miyavi again, gazing down at Reita and soundlessly begging him not to stop. Pleasepleasepleaseplease… But Reita merely smiled at him and stood, only to press himself against Aoi, their cocks brushing together. Aoi hissed, his nails digging painfully into the palms of his hands. God, he wanted…
“I think it would be best if Aoi-chan sat down,” Miyavi said, tugging lightly at Aoi’s navel-piercing. “Since he seems to be having such difficulty staying on his feet.” He leaned in, past Aoi, and pressed his lips to blonde hair. “Rei-chan, why don’t you have a seat over there, and take him with you?”
Reita went to the nearby table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He looked at Aoi pointedly, and Miyavi patted Aoi lightly on the back as if to say ‘go on’. And Aoi did. He moved to stand in front of Reita, head still reeling, body aching. “Turn around,” Reita told him. “I want you to sit on my lap.”
Almost blushing, Aoi turned around, letting the gentle press and pull of Reita’s hands guide him downwards until he was seated firmly on Reita’s lap. He could feel the material of Reita’s jeans against his skin, and he could also feel Reita’s cock pressed against him – against the upper curve of his ass and the small of his back. Due to his shirt, however (which he still wore – it was merely unbuttoned), he could not feel that particular part of Reita’s anatomy against his skin. Aoi released a choked whimper and shifted farther back, attempting to grind himself against Reita, but the hands on his hips kept him from doing so. Aoi’s pleasured whimper turned into one of protest. “Reita, Reita… let me… We could…” He was quite aware that he wasn’t making much – if any sense – but he was sure that Reita knew what he was getting at.
“All in good time,” Reita replied, fingers lightly caressing Aoi’s hips. “Be patient, baby. Be patient with me. With us. We’ll get what we want soon enough.” He pressed his lips to Aoi’s neck, kissing softly. “Right, Miyavi?”
“Indeed,” Miyavi replied, snatching up Aoi’s glass, which was still half-full with melting ice, and practically strolling to the chair which Reita and Aoi were currently occupying. He smiled at Aoi in a way which clearly said, ‘I know something you don’t know’ and swirled the ice around in the glass. “You left some ice in your glass, Aoi-chan,” he said, voice light and teasing. “I think we can put some of it to good use.”
Aoi looked up at Miyavi and licked his lips. He was admittedly a bit curious and obviously more than a little aroused, and the way Miyavi was gazing at him made him feel even more aroused and even more curious. “You think?” he asked, voice husky. “And how are you going to go about doing that?”
“Reita knows.” Mischief was practically dancing in Miyavi’s dark eyes. “And you’re about to find out.”
“I do know, Aoi,” Reita breathed against Aoi’s ear. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”
Aoi didn’t doubt either of them. When he spoke again, he had to try twice before he could manage to keep the words from getting stuck in his throat. “Then show me.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Show me, so I can know, too.”
Miyavi removed one of the mostly-melted ice cubes from the glass, set the glass on the table, and traced the cube along the line of his lips. Those lips parted just enough for Miyavi to place the ice cube between his teeth, and then he gently nudged Aoi’s legs apart.
“Legs more open,” Reita told Aoi. “Let him move between them.” His hands moved from Aoi’s hips to his inner thighs and rested there, giving Aoi the opportunity to rock back against him, and that’s exactly what he wanted. Aoi kept his eyes on Miyavi as he spread his legs wider and planted his feet more firmly on the floor, taking the opportunity to rub himself against Reita’s length. Even his fingers couldn’t resist the temptation, and they lightly brushed against the head of Reita’s cock; Reita rewarded him with a breathy moan and a bite on the neck, in nearly the same place that Miyavi had bitten him. This, in turn, caused Aoi to moan as well, head tipping back and eyes closing.
Aoi opened his eyes again when he felt another pair of hands on his body – Miyavi’s hands, of course – and he noticed that Miyavi was no longer holding the ice cube between his teeth. It was tucked into his cheek, and Miyavi was smiling and shaking his head slightly at him.
“Even with your hands tied behind your back, you can’t keep them to yourself.” Reita didn’t sound annoyed in the least by it, though. Aoi could have sworn that somewhere in all that want, he could detect a hint of amusement. But then, the palm of Reita’s hand rubbed over the head of his cock and Reita’s fingers squeezed just a little, promptly making Aoi forget all about the amusement that might or might not have been in Reita’s voice. In fact, Aoi forgot about pretty much everything except for the fact that what Reita was doing felt might damn good.
Miyavi apparently chose that moment to promptly make Aoi remember that Reita wasn’t the only person in the room who could tease with mouth and hands. His fingers moved over Aoi’s inner thighs, gifting him with featherlight touches that made Aoi whimper softly and try to lift his hips, wanting more of his touch and wanting more of Reita’s touch. But Reita’s left hand moved to Aoi’s hip once more, holding firmly and preventing Aoi from lifting his hips much at all. “Be still,” Reita murmured, and then the hand that had been rapidly driving Aoi perfectly insane ceased in its movements altogether and settled on Aoi’s hip. Now both of Reita’s hands were on his hips, applying even more pressure, more restraint.
“You stopped,” Aoi stated, self-control already torn to shreds. “You stopped. Why?!” He was whining – he could hear himself whining, but he didn’t care. They were torturing him, damnit!
… But then again, he supposed that he shouldn’t have expected them not to.
“Because it’s Miyavi’s turn,” Reita said simply, as though that explained everything. For Aoi, though, it didn’t explain much at all. Or rather, it didn’t, until Miyavi leaned in closer, and even closer still until he could press his lips against Aoi’s chest. It was then that Aoi realized Miyavi had placed the ice cube between his front teeth once more, because all he felt at that moment was the sudden chill of the ice move over his skin, close to his nipple, and Aoi gasped at the sensation, eyes sliding closed.
Aoi forced his eyes back open rather quickly, barely stifling another moan as Miyavi circled the ice cube around and then over one of his nipples. “Miyavi. Miyavi, that’s cold.”
Miyavi paused momentarily, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow in what Aoi interpreted as a ‘well, duh’ expression, and Aoi instantly felt more than a little silly for saying what he’d said. He decided to blame the sudden loss of intelligence on Miyavi and Reita; after all, they were the reason why blood was currently not circulating very well to his brain.
“Do you want him to stop?” Reita asked, nuzzling at Aoi’s neck.
“No!” Aoi answered quickly, and repeated himself for good measure. “No. Just because it’s cold doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel nice, and I--”
Miyavi apparently decided that he didn’t want to hear whatever else Aoi would have said, because he leaned down again, this time circling the ice cube over his other nipple and effectively stealing his words away, making him completely forget about whatever else it was that he might have wanted to say. It didn’t really matter anyway, because now, Miyavi’s lipring was scraping lightly over his skin, and that felt quite nice, too. Aoi arched his back a little, wordlessly asking for more, and then he felt Miyavi’s tongue against that sensitive nub of flesh – just the briefest touch. Due to the ice cube, Miyavi’s tongue felt cold as well, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation in the least.
Miyavi began trailing chilled lips down Aoi’s chest and abdomen, occasionally teasing him with the ice cube along the way, and oh god, Aoi definitely knew where this was going. Again, his wrists twisted; he seemed unable to keep his hands still despite the burn and the bite of the cloth on his skin.
Reita chuckled softly, and Aoi almost told him to shut the fuck up because there was nothing funny about this, but then Reita’s lips closed over a patch of skin on his neck once more, and Aoi instantly forgave him for the laughter. His lips and tongue were warm, a stark contrast to Miyavi’s lips and tongue—for the time being, at least. Reita kissed and nibbled and sucked on that patch of skin, and Aoi made a mental note to wear shirts with collars for the next few days – thank goodness they didn’t have any photoshoots or PVs to deal with in the immediate future – because there would definitely be marks. Aoi didn’t mind the marks, either; he enjoyed the fact that they marked him – marked him as theirs.
A soft crunching sound drew Aoi’s attention back to Miyavi. Apparently, Miyavi had crushed the ice with his teeth, because when Miyavi gazed back up at Aoi and Reita once more, he wasn’t holding the ice cube between his teeth; nor was the ice cube shoved into his cheek. “Can you guess what happens next?” Miyavi asked, lips hovering near Aoi’s cock. He was close, but not close enough, and Aoi couldn’t drag him closer because his hands were tied (literally); nor could he lift his hips towards Miyavi, because Reita had a firm hold of them and would not let Aoi move them.
“I have a pretty good idea,” Aoi replied, voice a low, impatient growl. “I think I’m beginning to realize that you have an oral fixation, Miyavi.” Not that Aoi was complaining about that. That was absolutely nothing to complain about.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Miyavi ran his tongue – his cold tongue – along the sensitive underside of Aoi’s cock, from base to head. His tongue dipped into the slit at the very tip, and Aoi’s hips jerked involuntarily, but they were quickly stilled by Reita. They were enjoying this, Aoi knew; they were enjoying torturing him like this.
Aoi opened his mouth to say something, he was sure—something about the two of them driving him crazy with their methods of torture, but then Miyavi did something rather unexpected: he lowered his head and took all of Aoi into his mouth, his throat. It wasn’t typically like Miyavi to deepthroat immediately like this (Aoi had learned that Miyavi usually liked to take it slow and work his way up to it), but hey, Aoi wasn’t going to complain about that, either. In fact, Miyavi had surprised him in a very similar way their first night together, and Aoi very thoroughly enjoyed surprises like this.
Aoi felt the head of his length brush against the back of Miyavi’s throat and he moaned unrestrainedly, head falling back to rest against Reita’s shoulder once more. It was an odd sensation, the feel of Aoi’s heated skin enveloped by the cold of Miyavi’s mouth. He felt Miyavi suck – hard – and had Aoi already not been sitting down, he would have needed to sit down then. “Oh, oh, Miyavi…” His immediate reaction was to tangle his fingers in Miyavi’s hair, but the cloth around his wrists prevented him from doing so.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Reita asked, and Aoi didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling. “A little strange, because of the cold, but fucking good, right?”
“Miyavi’s mouth always feels good,” Aoi replied, the words falling from his lips before he could even think about attempting to hold them back.
Reita’s tongue tickled at Aoi’s ear, and Reita chuckled again, the sound low and sexy. The amusement was there, but it did absolutely nothing to disguise the lust. “I think he’s trying to inflate your ego, Miyavi. As if it’s not already inflated enough~.”
Miyavi drew back, and Aoi’s cock slid out of his mouth. “Watch it, baby, or I might change my mind and untie Aoi-chan. I might bind your hands instead.” His smile was almost feral. “It’s been a little while since you’ve been the one bound, hasn’t it? Bet you’ve missed it. I’ve missed it, and Aoi here has only had the opportunity to see you like that once. We should do it again, shouldn’t we?”
Aoi felt Reita go very still, save for his cock, which twitched. Aoi could feel that twitch through the material of his shirt, and it made him shudder. The fact that Reita’s cock had twitched like that was answer enough—he’d missed being the one at Miyavi’s mercy. No, at their mercy. Aoi knew – he just knew - that Reita would not snarl this time, not like he had earlier when Miyavi had pulled him away from Aoi’s mouth by using his hair as a handhold. And Reita didn’t snarl, either. When he spoke, his voice was a low purr, and he spoke very close to Aoi’s ear. “As tempting as you make that sound, I must remind you that we’re collecting payment from Aoi-chan right now.”
Miyavi nodded slightly, a show of understanding, of acceptance. “Another time, then. Soon.”
“Yeah,” Reita agreed, lifting one hand and brushing his fingers tenderly over Miyavi’s cheek. Miyavi leaned into the touch, and after a moment or two, Reita placed his hand back on Aoi’s hip once more. “Now… as you were, baby. I do believe that Aoi was paying you a compliment.”
Miyavi turned his dark eyes to Aoi, and Aoi’s breath hitched in his throat at the heat in those eyes. “You’re right. I suppose I should reward you for the compliment, shouldn’t I, Aoi-chan?”
Aoi nodded vehemently, not quite trusting his voice at the moment.
Miyavi shook his head and tsked. “No, no, Aoi-chan. That’s not going to be a good enough answer. You know that I enjoy hearing what you want me to do. So tell me.”
Just barely biting back a noise of impatience, Aoi replied, “I want your mouth on my cock again, Miyavi.” It was almost ridiculous, how much they were teasing him.
“Oddly enough, that’s just what I was hoping you’d say.” Miyavi was smirking again, and he seemed mighty pleased with himself, or perhaps mighty pleased with Aoi’s answer. Either way, he didn’t keep Aoi waiting any longer. He leaned down again, taking just the head of Aoi’s cock into his mouth and sucking hard once more – hard enough to bow Aoi’s spine and make him release a hoarse cry.
“He likes that, Miyavi.” Reita’s voice sounded just as hoarse as the cry that Aoi had just released, and his hands were now moving over Aoi’s body, fingers teasing him just as Miyavi’s mouth was teasing him. And now that Reita’s hands were moving over his body instead of holding his hips down, Aoi took the opportunity to thrust them upwards, forcing himself deeper into Miyavi’s mouth, which was nowhere near as cold as it had been a few moments ago.
Miyavi’s hands quickly moved from Aoi’s thighs to his hips and pushed, forcing Aoi’s hips back down once more. Aoi keened, and Miyavi merely hummed around his flesh, tongue swirling over the head of his cock in a most delightful way.
“You aren’t being fair,” Aoi told them, trying his best to sound as accusing as possible, though at that moment, Reita’s fingers found his nipples and he pinched and rolled them, and Aoi wasn’t quite able to sound as accusing as he would have liked. “Fucking torturing me.”
“And you love it,” Reita whispered, kissing softly along Aoi’s jaw.
“That’s not the goddamned point,” Aoi shot back, feeling more than frazzled at this point and wanting more than anything to just come already, but Miyavi wasn’t moving; he was sucking, but not moving, and it was enough to make Aoi want to come, but it wasn’t enough to actually make him come. “Miyavi, Miyavi, Miyavi,” he said, needy and desperate, “please. Please move.”
He was fairly certain that if Miyavi’s mouth hadn’t already been occupied, Miyavi would have been smiling. Miyavi complied quickly, head beginning to bob, lips and tongue moving slowly along Aoi’s cock and it was good, so fucking good that Aoi didn’t have words for it (not that he ever did), and instead of trying to find the words, Aoi mewled in pleasure, eyes closing. He turned his head, blindly searching for Reita’s mouth, and when he found it, he kissed Reita just as desperately as he had pleaded with Miyavi, and Reita kissed him back with equal desperation, arms sliding around Aoi’s waist.
Aoi broke away from Reita’s mouth only when he felt one of Miyavi’s hands leave his hips and slip between his spread thighs. Aoi gazed down at him and Miyavi gave him that look, his hand beginning to lightly knead and roll Aoi’s balls even as he began moving his mouth over Aoi’s cock faster. One of Miyavi’s fingers pressed against that sensitive spot just behind Aoi’s balls, and Aoi cursed rather loudly, suddenly needing something to hold onto, to keep him grounded in some way. What his bound hands found was the front of Reita’s shirt and he gripped it tightly, knuckles turning white. “Fuck,” he moaned, not quite able to think of anything else to say. “Fuck, fuck!”
Aoi was close now, so very close; the pressure was rapidly building low in his belly and he knew that it wouldn’t take much for that pressure to be released, not now. Not with the way Miyavi was sucking him (he would take Aoi all the way into his mouth and his throat before drawing back until just the tip of Aoi’s cock remained between his lips, and then he would almost immediately slide his mouth back down again, to the very base), and not with the way Reita’s hands were exploring his body again, fingers tugging at his navel piercing and skittering over his sensitive nipples. Not to mention the way Miyavi was still lightly cupping and squeezing his balls like that. No, it wouldn’t take long at all.
And then, Aoi felt both Miyavi’s teeth and his piercing scrape along his skin, applying just enough pressure to dance that thin line between pleasure and pain, and oh, did it ever feel exquisite. “Miyavi,” he began, meaning for his voice to take on a warning tone instead of that strangled almost-there-and-god-whatever-you-do-don’t-stop tone (he failed miserably and really didn’t care, because he supposed that that tone was warning enough in and of itself), “I’m going to…”
Miyavi abruptly drew back and licked his lips, not quite smiling at Aoi, though Aoi could tell that he wanted to smile, the little bastard. “No you aren’t,” he replied, voice even and calm, if not a little breathless. “Not yet, baby. Not yet.”
“Damnit, Miyavi,” Aoi snarled. “Why? You were… I was about to…” His entire body was thrumming, screaming for release. He released Reita’s shirt, wrists twisting purposefully; he was actually attempting to break free now, because he wanted to push Miyavi’s head back down and demand that he finish what he started. But Miyavi had tied a rather skillful knot, and there was no chance of Aoi escaping from it. He knew that already, but it didn’t keep him from trying anyway. The bite and the burn of the cloth did absolutely nothing to stop him, either. Fuck, he had been so close, and Miyavi had stopped… and that was just wrong.
Miyavi placed a finger over Aoi’s lips and Aoi could feel that finger tremble just slightly. “Shh. I know you were, Aoi. Trust me, it will be worth it.” He replaced his finger with his lips and he kissed Aoi leisurely and gently, whereas Aoi kissed him back with a fierce passion, all lips and teeth and tongue and with almost no gentleness and with absolutely no finesse whatsoever. He bit at and sucked on Miyavi’s bottom lip, almost growling into the kiss, and yet, Miyavi remained as calm and gentle as ever, as if Aoi’s urgency wasn’t affecting him, though Aoi knew perfectly damn well that it was.
“Miyavi.” Reita’s voice, rough. Rough with the same need that Aoi felt. He wasn’t trying to hide it, so why was Miyavi trying to hide it? “Miyavi, can’t we? Can’t we now? I want to. You want to. And our Aoi most certainly wants to.”
Aoi broke away from Miyavi’s mouth and opened his eyes just in time to see Reita’s fingers lightly comb through Miyavi’s hair and at the same time that Reita did this, he also shifted a little, deliberately rubbing himself against Aoi’s lower back, and Aoi moaned helplessly, trying to press back against him. Miyavi just purred and leaned into Reita’s gentle touch. “I do want to, and I know you do, and I know he does.” Miyavi sounded relaxed and perfectly in control, and while he might have had control of what was happening, Aoi knew without a shadow of a doubt that Miyavi’s self-control was in shreds as well, and Aoi wanted to see it – his loss of control. He wanted Miyavi to stop pretending that this wasn’t affecting him as much as it was affecting Aoi and Reita. It was only a matter of time before Miyavi dropped the façade, Aoi knew. But he was getting mighty fucking impatient.
“Then can’t we just…” Reita trailed off, mouthing at Aoi’s neck, panting harshly and undulating his hips in a way that made Aoi completely forget to breathe for an instant. If Aoi could just lift his hips and shift back a little, and then lower himself, then Reita’ could be inside of him. Aoi knew quite well that it was pretty stupid to even think of such a thing without using any type of lubrication beforehand, but for fuck’s sake, he wanted to feel him—he wanted to feel both of them.
Miyavi leaned forward and nuzzled at Reita’s leg before placing a light kiss to Aoi’s knee. “No. Not yet. If we take him now, he won’t last. We are going to give him a few minutes to recover from all of the… stimulation. And I know the perfect way to do it.”
“And what way would that be?” Aoi could hear the curiosity in Reita’s voice, and if Aoi himself currently hadn’t been feeling so damn frustrated, he might have been curious as well.
Miyavi didn’t answer Reita’s question. Or rather, he didn’t answer the question directly. Instead, he stood and slid his arms around Aoi, pulling at him gently, indicating in no uncertain terms that he wanted Aoi to stand up. “C’mon, baby. Stand up for me just a second. If your legs feel weak, lean against me. Reita, slide the chair back a little, stand up, and move so that you’re standing a few feet behind me.”
Aoi reluctantly stood up, but less-than-reluctantly leaned against Miyavi’s body. His legs were indeed feeling wobbly, though he was fairly certain that he could have stood on his own. He simply just didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to lean against Miyavi, or to grind his naked hips against Miyavi’s clothed ones (and even though Miyavi was still fully clothed, the fact that he was very aroused was not mistakable. His jeans couldn’t hide that). Miyavi moaned none-too-softly, and Aoi almost smiled triumphantly. Almost, until Miyavi’s hands stilled his hips once again.
“Such a naughty boy,” Miyavi half-purred, one hand sliding back to lightly squeeze Aoi’s ass. And then, Miyavi’s attention focused once again on Reita. “Reita, baby, you haven’t moved yet,” he said pointedly, sounding a tad disappointed. “Why haven’t you?”
“Sorry.” Reita didn’t sound too terribly apologetic. “I became a little distracted. You can’t blame me for that, can you?” Aoi then heard the sound of the chair scraping against the floor as Reita pushed it back. In the next moment, Reita had moved, and was standing a couple of feet behind Miyavi, just as Miyavi had told him to do. His cock looked painfully hard – no doubt, just as Aoi’s was painfully hard – and Aoi wanted to touch so badly that he moaned low in his throat and gazed pleadingly at Reita.
Reita met his gaze, and there were a thousand emotions visible in those dark eyes. There was desperation, there was lust, there was need, there was love, and they all blended together in such a way that Aoi couldn’t discern them all, but it didn’t really matter. There was such heat in Reita’s eyes, and Aoi knew that his own eyes had to look very much the same. “Soon,” Reita mouthed, and Aoi nodded, leaning more heavily against Miyavi.
“’Salright, baby,” Miyavi said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you. Sit down for a little while, and enjoy the show, won’t you?” He moved then, settling Aoi onto the chair. It was still warm, and that was Reita’s warmth.
“Show?” Aoi asked, gaze now focusing on Miyavi. “What show are we talking about, Miya-chan?”
Miyavi smiled knowingly before turning around so that he was facing Reita, though he moved just a few steps to the left so that Aoi’s view of Reita was not obscured. “Strip for us, Rei.” he told Reita. “Do it slowly.”
Reita nodded but did not speak a word, and he began doing as Miyavi had instructed. His shirt was removed first, and Aoi could see how Reita’s nails scraped lightly over his skin, as he tugged his shirt upwards. His nails left faint red marks on his skin, and Aoi had the sudden urge to kiss that skin – kiss and lick and suck it until it was even redder. But he remained where he was, watching, breath catching in his throat as each bit of Reita’s skin was revealed.
Next were his pants – not much work there, since Miyavi had already unbuttoned and unzipped them for him. He pushed his jeans down his hips and his thighs and his legs until they were finally pooled around his feet, and then he stepped out of them. His boxers were all that remained, and he smiled at both Aoi and Miyavi in a way that might have passed for innocent, had both Aoi and Miyavi not known that Reita was anything but innocent.
Reita then proceeded to curl his fingers around himself and stroke slowly, hips thrusting forward, into the grip of his hand. His eyes slid closed and a moan slipped past his half-parted lips, and Aoi nearly completely fell apart when that moan reached his ears.
“Reita,” Aoi breathed, and that one word was barely audible even to his own ears, but Reita heard it, because he smiled.
“Yes?” Reita asked, the fingers of his other hand sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers.
“Please.” Aoi couldn’t seem to force any other words past his lips.
Miyavi lightly ran his fingers through Aoi’s hair. “I believe that what Aoi-chan is saying is that he wants you to get on with it, baby. And that you’re a tease~.”
Reita squeezed his cock, hissing softly as he did so, and then he began sliding his boxers down as well. “You’re the one that told me to go slow,” he said to Miyavi as he stepped out of his boxers. Now he was naked, and Aoi couldn’t help but stare. He’d seen Reita naked countless times up to this point, but the sight of him like this never failed to take his breath away. He was utterly gorgeous.
“I did,” Miyavi agreed. “But I did not tell you to touch yourself like that and fucking torture us.” Aoi could not detect any malice in those words, though, which indicated that Miyavi had actually enjoyed watching Reita touch himself like that—and who wouldn’t have? “Now,” Miyavi continued. “On your hands and knees, Rei. Facing us.” He reached again for Aoi’s glass of ice, and the ice had melted even more, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. “Believe it or not, but I saw that look on your face when I was using the ice to tease Aoi. I heard what you said, too, and I think that I should tease you like that too, only a little differently, while Aoi watches.”
Reita didn’t hesitate – not even for half a second. He dropped to the floor on just his knees first, and then he leaned down, placing his hands on the floor as well. He was trembling, and Aoi knew exactly why, because Aoi was trembling again now, too.
Aoi then looked at Miyavi, watching as Miyavi swirled the ice cubes around in the glass. He seemed to be looking for the perfect ice cube, and after a second or two, he found it (or he must have, anyway) and reached into the glass, plucking the mostly-melted piece of ice from it before setting it back onto the table once more. He sauntered over to Reita and kneeled down, and though Aoi couldn’t see the look on Miyavi’s face, he knew that he was smiling.
Miyavi kissed Reita briefly before moving so that he was behind Reita, and then he began to slowly trail that piece of ice down Reita’s neck and along his spine. When the ice first touched his skin, Reita sucked in a sharp breath. He held it for a moment or so and then released it in a shaky sigh, and Aoi whined softly, wanting more than anything to just go to them. Reita apparently understood how Aoi felt, because he shook his head and said, “Not yet, Aoi. Not yet. Soon.”
Soon. Soon. Soon wasn’t soon e-fucking-nough in Aoi’s opinion, but he remained seated on the chair, cock throbbing and aching for touch. Meanwhile, Miyavi continued to slide the piece of almost-completely-melted ice down the middle of Reita’s back, lower and lower until he reached Reita’s ass. Aoi saw him grin then, and his hand moved out of sight, though Aoi had a pretty damn good idea of what he was doing with that hand and the ice that he held in his fingers.
Reita groaned, hips rocking back, and Miyavi purred appreciatively, leaning down and replacing the ice (Aoi figured that it must have melted by this point) with his lips and his tongue. Aoi couldn’t see exactly what Miyavi was doing with his mouth, but he knew that he had to be rimming Reita, and he could tell by the look on Reita’s face that Reita was most definitely enjoying it. Reita’s body jerked and he moaned Miyavi’s name, lust-darkened eyes closing once more. The look on Reita’s face made Aoi’s balls tighten painfully and he moaned as well, but he didn’t close his eyes. No way in hell would he miss out on seeing the pleasure written all over that too-beautiful-for-words face.
Miyavi lifted both hands then, caressing each of Reita’s asscheeks before pulling them apart, no doubt so that he could gain more access to better pleasure Reita. Aoi couldn’t quite see it, but he could imagine Miyavi’s tongue lightly flicking over Reita’s entrance, tracing around it before plunging inside. Aoi knew the exact moment when Miyavi’s tongue slid inside of Reita, because Reita shuddered again, though more violently than he had earlier, and he pushed his hips urgently back against Miyavi. “Oh. Oh, god. Miyavi,” Reita groaned before biting down on his bottom lip, and then Reita’s eyes met Aoi’s, and Aoi bit his own lip, not quite aware that he was doing so.
Miyavi remained kneeling behind Reita for several moments, fucking him with his tongue until Reita was practically begging for more than just Miyavi’s tongue. It was then that Miyavi pulled away and pressed his lips to the base of Reita’s spine. With his mouth, he began to follow the invisible trail he’d made earlier with the ice, only backwards. He licked and kissed his way up Reita’s spine, eventually nuzzling against Reita’s blonde hair. “Let me take off my clothes,” Aoi heard Miyavi say. “You take Aoi and help him up onto the counter.”
Aoi kept his eyes trained on Miyavi as Miyavi removed his clothes, only vaguely aware of Reita gently helping him stand, and even less aware of his own stumbling as he and Reita moved to the counter. Miyavi didn’t strip slowly, not like Reita had, and that gave him away. It was a gesture of how eager he was, and Aoi watched with a sense of satisfaction as Miyavi’s calm, controlled pretense cracked just slightly. The look in his eyes was wild, and yes - fuck yes - this was what Aoi wanted to see. He couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from Miyavi as Miyavi removed that last article of clothing – his boxers – even as Reita lifted him up and onto the countertop. Miyavi was undeniably hard; his cock was blood-flushed and nearly touching his belly, moisture gathered at the tip of it. Aoi wanted to lick it away.
Miyavi smiled at him and leaned down, grabbing his pants (which had been discarded on the floor along with the rest of his clothing) and digging around in the left front pocket for a moment. Aoi’s attention was then abruptly torn away from Miyavi for the time being by Reita’s mouth, which was suddenly moving against his own, needy and insistent, and Aoi could not deny him. His eyes closed and his lips parted, tongue darting forward and tangling with Reita’s, and Reita made a soft, growling noise, his hands pushing Aoi’s thighs apart and his hips fitting between them.
They broke apart only when the need for air forced them to do so, and Aoi opened his eyes to find Miyavi standing behind Reita. Miyavi was still smiling, one hand resting on Reita’s hip. The other hand held a tube of lubrication; apparently, that’s what he had been looking for.
“Now?” Aoi asked hopefully, voice deep and hoarse.
“Now,” Miyavi replied, nodding, and Reita trembled between them. Miyavi leaned down, brushing a kiss to the back of Reita’s neck. “Me inside of you while you’re inside of him… Sound good?”
“Yes,” Reita told him, a breathy sigh escaping him.
“Sounds good to me, too.” Miyavi looked at Aoi again. “And what about you? Do you like the idea?”
“Yes, yes, fuck, yes. Please.” Aoi was very much aware of the fact that he was shamelessly pleading, but it didn’t matter. They were his; he was theirs. And they were finally about to stop teasing him.
Miyavi leaned past Reita and pressed his lips to Aoi’s, tugging gently on Aoi’s lipring before drawing back. “Good. Then lay back, Aoi. Lay back and let us position you.”
Aoi obeyed, lying back against the cool surface of the counter. His hands were trapped uncomfortably beneath him, but it wasn’t anything that he couldn’t deal with. He knew that his wrists and his arms would ache later, but that wasn’t something he wanted to worry about at the moment. It wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that they were finally succumbing to his need and to their own need, and that they were going to take him, right on this fucking countertop, and oh god, how many times had Aoi fantasized this very scenario?
Their hands were on him and they were pulling, albeit gently. They seemed satisfied when his ass was hanging off the countertop, and Reita’s hips were still between his thighs, though Reita now had access to much more sensitive areas and he definitely used that to his advantage. Reita’s cock slid over Aoi’s opening, over but not inside, and that small bit of friction caused Aoi to wail, thighs closing reflexively around Reita’s hips. “Inside, Rei,” he breathed impatiently. “I want you inside.” If Aoi had had more leverage, he would have bucked his hips, but he didn’t, so he somehow managed to keep them still.
“About to be,” Reita answered, and Aoi could tell that he was trying to be reassuring, but he was just as frantic as Aoi, just as needy. “Miyavi, lube. Please. I--”
Reita cut himself off with a loud groan as Miyavi ground against his ass, and Miyavi muffled a moan against Reita’s shoulder. “…Okay,” Miyavi finally said after several moments, hips still moving against Reita’s, though not with quite as much force. “But give it right back. I need it, too.”
Reita took the lube from Miyavi with shaking hands, unscrewing the cap and hurriedly squirting some of it onto his fingers before handing the tube back to Miyavi. Reita’s cool, slick fingers found Aoi’s entrance, and without further warning, pushed inside. Aoi moaned Reita’s name, hands jerking between his back and the countertop, and it hurt, but Aoi didn’t fucking care.
Reita moaned then, and Aoi opened his eyes, not remembering when he’d closed them. More than likely when Reita’s fingers slid inside of him. Reita’s eyes were half-closed and his lips were parted. One of Miyavi’s arms was wrapped around his waist, and Aoi knew that Miyavi was doing to Reita what Reita was doing to him.
“Deeper,” Aoi breathed, and Reita probably thought that Aoi was only talking to him, telling him to push his fingers in deeper, but Aoi wasn’t just talking to Reita – he was talking to Miyavi, too. “Deeper, please. Miyavi, find that spot that makes him jump.”
Miyavi’s eyes grew just a fraction wider, and he smiled and nodded. Then, Reita’s fingers pushed in deeper, and those fingers scissored inside of Aoi, and Aoi gave another keening moan at the sensation, his head reeling and his cock throbbing. Reita’s wrist twisted, the pads of his fingers brushing oh-so-sweetly against Aoi’s prostate, and Aoi’s upper body very nearly came up off the countertop. In almost the same instant, Aoi heard Reita’s breath catch in his throat and he felt Reita shudder all over, Reita’s fingers stilling within him for a moment. Miyavi had obviously found Reita’s spot, too.
Another shiver passed through Reita’s body and then his fingers began moving again, thrusting inside of Aoi, stretching Aoi. It burned, not in quite the same way that Reita’s nosestrap burned Aoi’s wrists when he jerked and twisted them a little too hard, a little too fast (like he did when Reita’s fingers brushed against his prostate again, upper body shifting just a little and giving his hands room to move – to twist – before his hands were once more trapped between his back and the coutertop), but it felt good and Aoi wanted more. He wanted to be filled completely; he wanted to feel the burn of Reita’s cock inside of him—the burn of Reita’s cock stretching him.
“Good,” Aoi said, writhing on the countertop, trying to press down against Reita’s fingers. “Good, good, fucking good but I want… I want…” He couldn’t finish his sentence – he simply couldn’t. Reita’s fingers were making his head spin with white-hot dizzying pleasure and the look in Miyavi’s eyes only helped to fuel his desire (he felt that familiar twisting low in his belly again) and reduce him to further speechlessness.
“I know,” Reita replied, voice rough with lust. His fingers withdrew then, and Aoi almost whined at the loss, but then Reita was leaning back against Miyavi, nuzzling at him. “Need the lube, baby. Need the lube again, because I need to--”
“No you don’t,” Miyavi interrupted, and his voice was rough as well. He had removed his fingers from Reita’s body as well, and both of his hands were shaking. At some point, his composure had been lost, his control had snapped, and Aoi reveled in it – at the sound of his voice, at the look in his eyes. “You don’t,” Miyavi continued, before he moved one of his hands, which was now slick with lube (and Aoi couldn’t remember when Miyavi had opened the lube again, not that it really mattered) and he curled the fingers of that hand around Reita’s cock, slowly stroking him.
“Oh god, Miyavi, fuck.” Reita hissed softly and bucked his hips forward, into Miyavi’s tight fist, and Miyavi rewarded him with a few more strokes before pulling his hand away.
“Watch me take him, Aoi,” Miyavi said, voice ragged. “Watch me take him, and I’ll watch him take you.”
“Yes,” Aoi hissed. “Yes, yes.” And then both of Reita’s hands were on his hips and the head of Reita’s cock was nudging against his entrance. “Yes, do it,” Aoi growled demandingly, pressing against Reita. “Do it, fuck me.”
That seemed to be all that Reita needed to hear, because Reita took a firmer hold of Aoi’s hips and thrust his hips, fully burying himself inside of Aoi with that one rough thrust. “God, Aoi,” he said, completely still save for the throbbing of his cock inside Aoi’s body (and Aoi could feel that too), “you’re so hot. So tight.” He drew back, almost all the way out, and pushed forward again, slower this time so that Aoi could feel every single inch of him as he slid inside. Aoi wanted to be able to meet Reita’s thrusts, but he didn’t quite have the proper leverage, not without something for his feet to press against, so instead he encouraged Reita with not-so-soft whimpers and moans, gazing up at him and at Miyavi through lowered lashes. Reita’s hips shifted slightly, the angle changing, and when he pushed into Aoi again, Aoi’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open at the resulting pleasure of Reita’s motion.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s it, isn’t it baby?” Reita asked, even as his hips began a slow rhythm. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” And it was, too. Now, each time Reita moved his hips, his cock slid over Aoi’s prostate, and Aoi closed his eyes and moaned helplessly, knowing that Reita would take that moan as a ‘yes’.
But then, Reita stilled, his fingers digging more sharply in Aoi’s hips. Aoi almost begged Reita not to stop, almost begged him to keep going, but he didn’t. Not yet, at least. He opened his eyes again to find Reita’s eyes wide open and so beautiful that it almost hurts Aoi to look at them. His lips were half-parted and he was shaking again. Shaking, but otherwise not moving. Miyavi’s hands were on his hips, and then Aoi felt the added pressure, felt Reita arch forward and slide deeper into him as Miyavi entered Reita. Reita’s eyes closed and his head tipped back, breath leaving him in erratic little pants.
Aoi was content for the span of several seconds to simply look at them, to admire the pleasure scrawled all over both of their faces. But soon he began to feel restless; soon he began to yearn for movement again. He wanted to feel Reita moving inside of him, and he wanted to feel Miyavi moving inside of Reita. “Move,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, please move. I want to feel you.”
Miyavi and Reita quickly complied with Aoi’s softly-whispered plea, finding their rhythm after a few false starts. And after that, there was no more slowing down and no more stopping. Their rhythm rapidly became something more primal, something more urgent. Aoi tried his best to keep his eyes open (he wished that blinking wasn’t necessary) so that he could watch them, because they were always so fucking beautiful like this, but of course, keeping his eyes open the entire time was impossible. Somewhere between one blink and the next, Miyavi’s hand had wrapped around Aoi’s cock and he was now stroking him in time with their thrusts, and oh, fuck, it was becoming too much. Too much. It wouldn’t be long at all before Aoi toppled right over the edge, because Reita was thrusting into him and Miyavi was thrusting into Reita hard and fast and it was too good. Reita’s thrusts were extensions of Miyavi’s thrusts, and each time Miyavi slammed into Reita, Reita slammed into Aoi with more pressure than would have been possible had it just been the two of them. Miyavi’s fingers felt wonderful wrapped around his cock, squeezing and stroking, thumb stroking over the sensitive head every now and again.
Some part of Aoi wanted them to slow down; some part of him wanted to make this last. Some part of him didn’t want this to be over yet, even though he was rapidly spiraling towards his orgasm. But the majority of him was just as frantic and needy as Miyavi and Reita were, and that part of him spoke louder than the rest. There would be other times, Aoi knew, for them to take it slow. This would not be one of those times.
Reita suddenly tensed between them, nails digging into the skin of Aoi’s hips. “I can’t,” he said, and he sounded so helpless. “I need to…” He didn’t finish his sentence, he just gazed down at Aoi with a desperation that not only made Aoi’s cock throb in Miyavi’s hand, but also made Aoi’s heart wrench in his chest almost painfully. Had his hands been free, he would have touched Reita. He would have stroked Reita’s cheek—would have reassured him with gentle touches.
But Aoi’s hands weren’t free and he couldn’t touch Reita, so instead, he encouraged him with gentle but urgent words. “It’s all right. It’s all right, baby. Let go. Come for us.”
“Come for us,” Miyavi echoed, pressing his lips to Reita’s neck and shoving his hips forward again, once more forcing Reita deeper inside of Aoi. Aoi felt himself clench around Reita, and Aoi almost came himself right then and there, but he somehow managed to hold himself back, refusing to orgasm before Reita did. He didn’t want to miss the look on Reita’s face when he came – Reita lost in his orgasm was a beauty all its own that simply could not be missed.
The combination of Miyavi slamming into Reita (at just the right angle, no doubt) and Aoi clenching around Reita’s cock must have been all that Reita needed, because that was when he came. His body tensed even further before relaxing, head falling back against Miyavi’s shoulder, mouth falling open once more. He cried out, both Miyavi’s and Aoi’s names falling from his lips, and Aoi could feel the warmth of Reita’s release inside of him, and it was right. And Reita was beautiful. So fucking beautiful that it hurt, and Aoi couldn’t imagine never seeing like this again or never seeing Miyavi like this again. He couldn’t imagine being apart from them and he didn’t want to imagine such a thing.
Reita slumped forward a little, moaning hoarsely. “I’ve got you, baby,” Miyavi assured him, and he resumed his movements, his hand working over Aoi’s length as his hips slammed forward again, even harder than before.
“Miyavi, Miyavi, yes,” Aoi hissed, and Miyavi smiled knowingly, pressing his index finger into that overly-sensitive spot just beneath the head of Aoi’s cock. That was all that it took, and Aoi came with a hoarse cry, cum splattering on Miyavi’s hand, Reita’s abdomen, and Aoi’s own abdomen as well. Now feeling boneless, weightless, Aoi was content to close his eyes and just enjoy the aftereffects of his orgasm, until he heard Miyavi’s breath catch. His eyes immediately snapped back open and he watched as Miyavi came, Miyavi’s entire body shuddering, eyes closing, lips parting as he cried out, and he was beautiful, too. Always so beautiful. Just seeing the look of rapture on Miyavi’s face made Aoi’s already-spent cock twitch.
They stayed that way for several long moments, Aoi still lying on the countertop, Reita still inside of Aoi, and Miyavi still inside of Reita. Aoi listened to their ragged breathing and to his pulse, which was thundering in his ears. They didn’t speak, they just breathed; Aoi gazed up at them, and they gazed right back.
Finally, Aoi shifted a little, wincing at the sudden pain in his hands. “Not wanting to ruing the moment here, but my hands are screaming at me.” He smiled up at them, and both of them chuckled. They both stepped back, and Aoi inwardly moaned at the loss of their pressure and their weight, and at the loss of Reita’s cock.
Reita helped him sit up, and Miyavi licked Aoi’s cum off of his hand before reaching behind Aoi and undoing the knot in Reita’s nosestrap, freeing Aoi’s hands. Aoi twisted his wrists almost experimentally and then looked at them. They were ringed with pink, as he had expected them to be.
“Well, that was interesting,” he said, grinning at Miyavi and Reita like an idiot. “That’s an understatement of course, but still.”
Both of them returned his grin, and then they reached for each of his hands. He blinked at them once, a little confused, but then Miyavi kissed Aoi’s right wrist, lips pressed just above the pulse point there, and Reita mirrored him, kissing Aoi’s left wrist. The tenderness of the gesture made Aoi’s heart wrench yet again.
“C’mon,” Reita said softly. “Come down here with us.”
Aoi moved to the edge of the counter once more and touched his feet to the floor gingerly before sliding off the counter completely. His legs still felt wobbly, though, and he wasn’t entirely sure how far he could walk just yet.
Miyavi went to the sink and grabbed a couple of paper towels, wetting them before going back to Reita and Aoi again. He cleaned himself off a little, and then cleaned Reita and Aoi in turn. “Let’s go back into the living room, shall we?” he asked as he tossed the paper towels into the nearby trashcan. “We can sit on the couch.”
Hands clasped (and still nude, save for Aoi’s shirt, though he left it unbuttoned), they headed into the living room and then all but collapsed onto the couch and cuddled up to each other. For several minutes, they didn’t say anything, but once again, Aoi broke the silence. “You two had better do a damn good job of washing the dishes tomorrow.”
Reita chuckled, and Miyavi said, “We will, don’t worry.”
“I love you.” Aoi wanted to say it; there was no reason not to say it. He hadn’t said those words to them before today, and now suddenly, he wanted to make up for all the times that he hadn’t said them.
“We love you too,” they answered simultaneously, and Aoi snuggled even closer to both of their bodies, sighing contentedly. There was another movie on, but he didn’t care much for watching anything else. He just wanted to hold them, and be held by them.
“So,” Reita began after a few more moments of silence (aside from the television), “next week at practice, secrecy won’t be an issue. If I want to kiss you, I’ll do it in front of them, just like I do with Miyavi. You aren’t our secret, Aoi, and we’re really sorry for making you believe that we don’t care for you just as much as we care for each other.”
“It was stupid, on our part.” Miyavi kissed Aoi’s cheek softly. “But you can believe that we’re going to try our damndest to never make you feel like that again. Because this may be one hell of a strange relationship, considering there’s three of us and all of us are men, but what the hell does that matter? We want this to work, Aoi. We want to be with you.”
“I want this to work, too,” Aoi replied, closing his eyes and all but clinging to them. “I want to be with you.”
And he did. He was already well aware of the fact that things weren’t going to always be easy. He was well aware of the fact that hearts were fragile things and the three of them would have to be very careful. He was well aware of the fact that their relationship was… unorthodox. Unorthodox and just a little complicated.
… But in truth, Aoi wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Author's Note: By the way, the bit with the ice? Wrote it for my Vicke-chan~. She knows why. ^_~