Warnings: Smut, double-penetration, language, sap.
Pairing: Reita (the GazettE)/Aoi (the GazettE)/Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Aoi has a plan that will put his lovers at his mercy (or so he thinks). Problem is, he’s having difficulty sticking to said plan.
Comments: After forever and a day, I finally managed to get this done. *wipes brow* This follows In Good Company, Who Needs an Alarm Clock?, Just a Little Complicated, and Mistake # --. Posted because I promised adronicus that I’d try my best to post this week and because beevosteethos is a slave-driver. :P Dedicated to coiled_iris, because she wanted Reita to be the one in charge this go-around. ^____^ Hope this meets your expectations! Enjoy, all~. Part one can be found here.
But then, Reita’s fingers left him and Aoi protested by grunting and trying to follow the heat of those fingers without parting his lips from Reita’s. Less than three seconds later, Miyavi’s hands were on his hips and Miyavi’s hips were jerking up without warning, and suddenly, Miyavi was inside of him in one, forceful thrust. Aoi tore his mouth away from Reita’s, crying out and nearly coming right then and there.
“Fuck, yeah,” Miyavi moaned, his hold on Aoi’s hips tightening. He was still for several moments—completely and utterly still, and it frustrated Aoi. But when Aoi tried to move, Miyavi would not let him. “Just for a second,” he whispered hoarsely. “Stay still for me. Let me just… feel you.”
Aoi nodded, though what he really wanted more than anything at the moment was for the man beneath him to just move already. He stayed still save for his trembling, staring down at Miyavi as Miyavi gazed up at him through his lashes. That look was devastatingly beautiful, utterly sexy, and Aoi couldn’t help but shiver. Apparently, Reita had noticed that look as well, because Aoi heard him inhale sharply.
“Miya-chan,” Reita began, his voice shaky but holding just a hint of a warning tone, “let him move now. Want to… I fucking need to watch….” He trailed off then, growling and nipping at Aoi’s shoulder.
Reita’s hunger – his near-desperation - fueled Aoi’s need, made him even more impatient, and judging from the way Miyavi’s eyes fluttered closed and the way he throbbed inside of Aoi, the tone of their blonde lover’s voice most definitely affected him as well.
“Please,” Aoi whispered, almost surprised at just how desperate he sounded, but then again, perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. He felt Reita’s tongue then, warm and wet on the back of his neck, and his breath caught in his throat. So good… If only Miyavi would just let him move!
“Miya-chan,” Reita said again, and this time, the warning in his voice was much more evident. “Now.” Aoi felt the blonde’s teeth again, scraping lightly along the nape of his neck, and he shuddered, whining, nearly begging Miyavi to allow him the freedom to move.
Miyavi relaxed his hold on Aoi’s hips, reaching up with one hand to brush the hair out of Aoi’s eyes (Aoi briefly wondered when his hair had fallen into his face, but that was a trivial matter—something he did not want to focus on at the moment, or any time soon). “Ride me, Aoi,” he said, the words barely more than a whisper. “Hard,” he added a moment later, both hands once more resting on Aoi’s hips, though not restricting movement this time (thank goodness—Aoi truly felt that if either of his lovers made him wait any longer, he would go utterly insane. Of course, they’d made him wait before and he hadn’t gone insane… Maybe his patience was simply close to non-existent today).
“I can do that,” Aoi replied without thinking, his answer falling from his barely-trembling lips. He lifted his hips, drawing back, stilling for just an instant when only the tip of Miyavi’s length was still inside of him. Then, he thrust his hips down hard, just like Miyavi wanted, groaning as he took all of Miyavi back inside of him and shivering again as Reita whispered something unintelligible against his shoulder.
“Slow,” Miyavi instructed, helping Aoi to begin a rhythm, his nails digging slightly into Aoi’s skin. “Don’t want this to be over before we’ve properly started—nngh, god, Aoi. So good.” Even after all of their time together, Aoi was still amazed at how his lovers would react to him—at how he could make them react and seemingly forget themselves. Perhaps now would have been an almost-perfect time to implement his original plan, but Aoi didn’t really consider the ‘plan’ to be of much importance anymore. Also, Miyavi felt incredibly fucking good inside of him, and he didn’t want to give that feeling up anytime soon in favor of turning the tables on his lovers. That could wait—or, as far as Aoi was concerned at the moment, not happen at all. Besides, Miyavi was writhing beneath him… perhaps not in the way he had originally planned, but it didn’t matter. Just because they were deviating from his original plan did not mean that he couldn’t watch Reita and Miyavi lose their hold on self-control.
“Go slow,” Reita reminded as Aoi drew his hips back again. The blonde’s fingers, warm and soothing, traced invisible patterns over the small of Aoi’s back, and that gentle, innocent touch seemed to be more than it really was; it seemed overwhelmingly erotic to Aoi, insomuch that his inner muscles clenched around the head of Miyavi’s cock, the action tearing moans from both of their throats.
“Fuck,” Aoi hissed, feeling dizzy. Why did they always have this effect on him? “You… you tell me to be slow when slow is not what my body wants… and it’s not what his body wants, either.” Having said that, he thrust his hips down again, a small cry leaving him when Miyavi rocked up to meet him.
“It’ll be worth the wait.” Reita’s voice was full of promise. “You might not want to go slow, but I’ll make it worthwhile for you—both of us will.” Then, Reita’s lips were where his fingers had been, lips and tongue caressing the dip in Aoi’s back. “We’ll make you feel so good, the two of us.”
Aoi paused, reaching back without looking to run his fingers through blonde hair as best as he could in his current position. “You always do.” He might have said more, but then Miyavi was lifting him, slamming deep inside of him again, and all other words were forgotten, save for Miyavi’s name and a string of obscenities.
A few more thrusts, and then Reita was stopping them again, which frustrated Aoi to no end, because he wanted to be able to just let go and give both of his lovers what they wanted, and what he wanted as well. After all, hadn’t Reita said that he needed to see Aoi ride Miyavi? Why was he stopping them?
“Why?” Aoi asked, the question a breathless whine. “Why? I want--”
“Lean down,” Reita interrupted. “Not much… just a little, towards Miyavi. After that, don’t move a muscle until I say so, okay?”
Aoi groaned in a mixture of frustration and protest, not following Reita’s instructions, not even when Reita growled softly in what sounded like a warning. The growl sent a fresh wave of unbidden lust straight to Aoi’s groin and an equally unbidden tremor ran through him, but he otherwise remained still. For the moment, at least. “But--”
“Please just listen, Aoi-chan.” Aoi’s next words were cut off yet again, though this time, it was the man beneath him whom had interrupted. Miyavi reached up with one hand, gently brushing his fingers against Aoi’s cheek whilst he teasingly circled the guitarist’s bellybutton with the forefinger of his other hand, pausing to tug at the piercing there, wringing another low moan from Aoi. “I know what you want. He knows what you want. Trust us, baby.”
“I do,” the brunette answered without hesitation, attempting to make Miyavi’s hand move a bit lower by using the power of his mind alone. It did not work, unsurprisingly. “You already know I do.”
”We know.” Aoi felt the warmth of Reita’s hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, applying gentle pressure, silently urging him to do as he had instructed. “It’s very difficult to wait, watching the two of you writhe together,” Reita continued. “It drives me insane, Aoi. I could just jerk myself off watching you, but I have something much better in mind. Now, will you cooperate, or will we have to resort to using those handcuffs on you?”
Though the question was light and teasing, Aoi knew that Reita would use them, if he continued to—well, Aoi supposed he was being a bit difficult. But he was horny and they were being difficult, too, damnit. Okay, so, Reita and Miyavi were just being the sexy, teasing, tormenting little bastards that they always were, but it wasn’t fair. If he told them as much, however, they would tell him that they were being fair, even though they weren’t.
“… You won’t have to,” Aoi finally replied, slowly leaning down, towards Miyavi, as Reita had instructed. “I’m being a good boy now, see?”
He could hear the amusement in Reita’s voice when he replied, “I most definitely see. You are being a good boy now. And good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?”
Aoi’s answer was a breathless, needy, “Yes, I believe they do.”
Aoi then felt the blonde’s lips at the small of his back, showering soft kisses there, and he sighed equally as softly, practically melting between his two lovers even though the want that had lodged itself somewhere below his bellybutton was writhing within him--had already geared up to a demand, and he was quickly running out of patience and whatever shred of self-control he still had remaining. Miyavi was still inside of him and it was very tempting to just continue where they’d left off, but he forced himself to remain still, waiting for whatever it was that Reita was going to do. There had to be some reason as to why the bassist had told him to lean over, after all, and he just knew that if he would be patient, said patience would be rewarded. But he was beginning to believe that patience was overrated.
“Miya,” Reita began, one of his hands still running up and down Aoi’s back, fingertips following his spine, “get that pillow and have Aoi put it under your hips.”
Without question or hesitation, Miyavi reached for the pillow that Reita had apparently indicated and wordlessly handed it to Aoi, lifting his hips just enough for Aoi to shove said pillow beneath him and position it properly. With Aoi leaning down like he currently was, the pillow changed the angle of contact and made Miyavi slide deeper into him, which succeeded in making Aoi momentarily forget to draw breath.
“Reita,” Aoi said, voice low with want and need and tinged with impatience, “whatever it is that you’re going to do… please, just do it. I’m--oh.”
He felt Reita’s fingers again, once more slick with lube and gently probing at his entrance, and he felt himself tense slightly without meaning to; they’d never done this before, and Aoi wasn’t entirely sure how it was going to work. Well, he knew how it worked, but….
“Rei,” Aoi began again, “I--”
“Relax,” Reita interrupted, slowly sliding one finger inside of Aoi, causing both Aoi and Miyavi to gasp softly. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna make you feel fucking fantastic, Aoi, I promise you. Don’t you want this? Think about it, me and Miya inside of you, his hand on your cock, stroking you at the same time….”
“Like this,” Miyavi purred, curling his fingers around Aoi’s length and stroking leisurely in a teasing demonstration. “We’re going to make you come so hard… make you forget everything but this--how we make you feel.”
Aoi closed his eyes and let their words – their promises – wash over him. There was no reason to worry; he trusted them with every fiber of his being and he knew that his lovers would not take him anywhere that he did not want to go. He wanted this—wanted what they were promising him, even though lack of experience with what they were currently doing make him somewhat nervous and unsure of himself.
“It’s all right,” Reita breathed soothingly, thrusting that finger in and out of Aoi’s body a few times before carefully adding a second finger. “This is something we wanted to try, but if, at any point, you want us to stop--”
“Don’t you dare stop,” the guitarist practically snarled, looking over his shoulder, meeting the blonde’s gaze and holding it. “I don’t want you to. Of course we’ve never... But I want….” Aoi found that words failed him and he let his sentence trail off, knowing that there was a much better way to show his lovers that he was okay and that he did want this. He shoved his hips forward, into Miyavi’s fist, and then down and back, onto Miyavi’s length and Reita’s fingers. “See?”
Miyavi inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. “Rei, he just… he tightened around me, around us, and you’re expecting me to stay still when he’s so tight and hot and when your fingers are making not only Aoi feel good, but me, too? Near fucking impossible.” He squirmed slightly beneath Aoi, seemingly restless. He wanted more, Aoi knew. All of them did.
“Just a bit more baby, I promise,” Reita murmured, leaning closer and brushing a few strands of hair out of Miyavi’s eyes with his free hand. Miyavi closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, a small smile curving his lips. Their blonde lover’s words and his gentle touch apparently had the desired effect—Miyavi stopped squirming, nonetheless.
“Closer,” Aoi said, voice barely audible, tone urgent. “Rei…kiss him.” He wanted to see them kiss; it always seemed to set his body ablaze—always seemed to make him so needy, so wanton. He already felt half-crazed, and he knew that watching them kiss would only make him feel even more crazed, but if he was going to lose his mind, he figured that this would be the most delicious way to do so. Actually, correction: He knew it would be the most delicious way to do so, because he’d lost his mind due to his lovers’ actions countless times before, and he was more than prepared and more than ready to subject himself to those actions again. Right now.
Reita pressed a soft kiss to Aoi’s shoulder and then leaned down, and Miyavi leaned up to meet him halfway. It was awkward and made Aoi feel somewhat cramped even though he moved out of the way as best as he could (and as much as was allowed, considering their current position). But the discomfort was minor, and was nothing compared to the heat that coursed through his body when Miyavi’s and Reita’s lips met. The kiss was full of lips and tongue and even teeth (Aoi heard Miyavi gasp and felt his length throb inside of him when Reita bit down on his bottom lip), and watching them kiss like this made Aoi release a small moan and made him dig his nails slightly into the skin of Miyavi’s chest.
Even as his lovers kissed, they let him know that he certainly hadn’t been forgotten, not even for an instant. Reita slid a third finger into Aoi’s body, and Miyavi squeezed his erection again, thumb swiping over the sensitive spot just below the head. Their actions, combined with the visual of the two of them kissing, caused Aoi to moan again, though much louder this time. He thrust forward and up into Miyavi’s hand, and then back down again, eyes nearly crossing at the almost-overwhelming pleasure that resulted. “Fuck,” he hissed, swallowing audibly, “I need--”
Without breaking away from the kiss he was currently sharing with Miyavi, Reita thrust his fingers roughly inside of Aoi, effectively cutting off his words. Instead of finishing his sentence, Aoi keened, tilting his head back, hands scrambling for the sheets and clutching at them desperately.
Miyavi was the one who broke the kiss, though it seemed that he did so quite reluctantly. Almost before he could even draw breath, however, Aoi all but crushed their lips together, practically shoving his tongue into the taller man’s mouth. Miyavi arched upwards, groaning softly against Aoi’s lips and into his mouth, their tongues tangling. The hand on Aoi’s length stilled completely, but that was just fine with Aoi for the time being; he was far more focused on making Miyavi even more breathless than he already was. Unsurprisingly, he could taste Reita in Miyavi’s mouth, and it made Aoi growl low in his throat and made him kiss Miyavi even deeper—he wanted more of that taste, more of their separate tastes, mixed together.
Aoi only drew back for air, though breaking the kiss was the last thing he wanted to do (stupid oxygen). He took a deep, steadying breath and slowly released it, and before he could do anything else, the fingers of Reita’s free hand were in his hair once more, jerking his head back and a little to one side, and then Reita’s lips were covering his own. Aoi growled softly, lapping hungrily at Reita’s lips, demanding an entrance that Reita did not grant. Instead, Reita tugged at Aoi’s piercing with his teeth. Aoi did not part his lips for Reita, even though he knew that that was what Reita wanted him to do (hell, it was what Aoi himself wanted to do, for the most part), because he wanted to try and dominate the kiss. Reita, however, was stubborn as well and was not the type to give in so easily—or, at least, he wasn’t that type today.
Reita tightened his hold on Aoi’s hair and simultaneously twisted his wrist just a little, enough to make both Aoi and Miyavi groan. Groaning, of course, meant that Aoi had to part his lips to permit the passage of sound, and the bassist took full advantage of the opportunity presented to him, kissing Aoi just as forcefully as Aoi had kissed Miyavi. Aoi gave up on attempting to get the upper hand rather quickly, succumbing and losing himself in the feel of Reita’s tongue brushing against his own and the feel of Reita’s deft fingers moving inside of him, still preparing him for what was to come.
Abruptly, Reita broke away from the kiss, though his lips didn’t completely leave Aoi’s. “Now?” he asked, the word a ragged, needy, desperate-sounding whisper. “Ready for me? For us?” He sounded like he was almost on the verge of pleading, and Aoi wanted to both savor the control that he actually had over the situation (he had to have some form of control, after all, to make Reita sound like that) and reassure Reita at the same time. Of course he was ready for them—he always was.
“Say yes,” Miyavi murmured, and Aoi turned his head to look down at the soloist, to watch as his hand began moving along Aoi’s cock again, from the base to the head. Once he reached the head, he rubbed his palm over it, eliciting yet another groan from Aoi. Deep brown eyes gazed imploringly up at the brunette, and he trembled at that look alone, the knowledge of just how badly his lovers wanted him helping to fuel his own desire.
“As if I’d ever say no.” His own words were just as soft as theirs had been, but they were also just as full of want and passion as theirs had been. “Yes, I’m ready. I want to feel you… both of you….” Aoi trailed off, rocking his hips down yet again, hoping that that particular action would make it perfectly clear that he had no doubts about this—that he wanted this, and that he wanted them. The latter went without saying, of course, but the former… well, it would be a new experience, but he was certain that his lovers would make this just as wonderful as they made everything else up to this point.
Another deep, rumbling growl worked its way out of Reita’s throat, and he twisted his wrist again almost viciously before withdrawing his fingers from Aoi’s body, leaving the older man with a sense of loss, despite the fact that Miyavi was still inside of him. “All right,” Reita said before taking a deep, shaky breath. “All right.” The fingers of his other hand were shaking as they brushed over the back of one thigh, and his breathing was erratic; Aoi loved that, the sound of Reita’s breathing as the blonde lost control too, despite his attempts to steady himself. So caught up was he in listening to Reita’s breathing and listening to the slick sound of lube on skin that he himself forgot to breathe for several seconds, only drawing in air when Miyavi’s fingers found and rolled one of his nipples, and Aoi found that it was rather difficult to attempt to gasp and moan at the same time.
Then, there was Reita’s voice again, softly murmuring against Aoi’s skin: “You’re sure?”
“Stop fucking asking me, Rei, and just fuck me!” Aoi tried to press back against the heat of Reita’s length, which was now nudging gently at his opening, and nearly screamed in frustration when Miyavi’s hands stopped him and Reita didn’t budge.
Miyavi chuckled, hands holding Aoi’s hips in place. “I think he’s getting just a little impatient, don’t you?” His eyes were twinkling with amusement, lips curved upwards in that little smirk of his, but the slight shift of his body beneath Aoi’s (and the way he moved inside of Aoi as a result) sent little shockwaves of pleasure through Aoi’s body and told him that he definitely wasn’t the only impatient one here.
“Aren’t we all?” Reita breathed, and there was no humor in his words, no pretenses—just the sheer, unhidden desire, and that was what Aoi wanted to hear.
“Please,” Aoi whispered, trembling between them. He was nearly begging, and he had originally intended for them to be begging him, but that wasn’t the issue anymore, was it? His plan had been abandoned the moment they had joined him on the bed (if not before then), but Aoi certainly wasn’t complaining about his fallen-apart plan. He just wanted Miyavi and Reita to move—wanted them both inside of him, wanted them to make him forget what his plan had been in the first place.
“He’s asking nicely,” Miyavi said, and though laughter still faintly danced in his eyes, it wasn’t evident in his voice. The words were strained, and it sounded like the soloist was very close to pleading, himself.
Reita didn’t answer—at least, not verbally. He pressed forward, really pressed, and there was the brief, almost-panicked thought of Just how is this going to work? flitting through Aoi’s mind before Miyavi’s lips attacked his with an urgent hunger, and Aoi gave in, lips trembling just as badly as his thighs (and when in the hell did that happen?) and he let the sweetness of Miyavi’s mouth eradicate the sudden worry—the sudden near-panic that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
Reita murmured something that Aoi didn’t quite catch (perhaps he wasn’t even supposed to), and pressed forward again, slowly and carefully. Aoi wanted to tell him that he was okay, but since his mouth was currently occupied, he couldn’t exactly do that. And then Reita was inside—just the head of his cock, but he was inside, and even though there was the burning and the stretching which Aoi had been expecting, there was also the pleasure that he knew would be there, but he hadn’t even fathomed that it would be like this.
Aoi went still, utterly still, and so did Miyavi. Their lips were still pressed together, and they were breathing heavily, but they were still, waiting on Reita. Reita was the only one still moving, sliding slowly but steadily into Aoi’s body, and when he was finally inside, completely inside, he was still as well save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His breath was hot on Aoi’s skin, and the seconds ticked by as they waited, adjusting.
But they were too still, and the seconds seem to last hours. The feel of both of his lovers inside of him was overwhelming, and yet, not enough at the same time. It was new and it was fucking fantastic and Aoi wanted more--wanted them to move. He finally said as much, his lips brushing against Miyavi’s as he spoke: “Move. Please. Move. Need you--”
Reita did move, drawing back slightly and then pushing forward again, and though it was a very slight motion, it was enough to make all three of them moan and shudder in unison.
“Yes,” Miyavi hissed, lifting his own hips, and Aoi agreed, practically shoving his own hips down, the feel of both Miyavi and Reita sliding even deeper into him making him feel drugged and like he just might be dreaming—like this couldn’t have possibly been real. But Reita’s next thrust – less gentle and more forceful – quickly dispelled that thought. Of course this was real. It couldn’t feel like this and not be real.
“Oh, fuck, oh… yeah….” Reita grated out, thrusting again, and Aoi wished that there was some way they could do this so he could see both of their faces, because he would really like to see Reita’s face right now.
“Don’t stop.” Aoi pressed back again, meeting their thrusts, wanting this to last but at the same time knowing that it probably wouldn’t. His nerve endings were on fire, and the stretch, the feel of being so completely filled… he knew it would all too soon grow to be too much.
“We won’t.” Reita’s words were like a promise, and Aoi took them as such, nearly coming as they all moved again, his inner muscles clenching around them, and Aoi almost came right then, just like that. But he managed to keep himself from letting go so soon—they hadn’t even begun a rhythm yet.
“You feel… oh, god, you both feel so….” Miyavi trailed off and Aoi drew back just enough to watch the taller man’s eyes squeeze shut and to watch him draw in a deep, shuddering breath, most likely in an attempt to bring his own body under control.
“Hold on, Miya,” Reita whispered, voice ragged and seeming to completely lack in the control that he was attempting to urge Miyavi to hold onto. “Let me….” He didn’t finish his sentence, either, but he drew back and slammed in again, and Aoi could have sworn that he saw stars dancing behind his eyes. “Like this?” Reita asked, and Aoi nodded, not trusting his voice.
“Yesyesyes,” Miyavi moaned, hands moving up and down Aoi’s back, nails leaving long, red scratches. “Like that. Move against me. Make him come. I need to—fuck, Reita, please just… Like that. Harder.” The words were garbled, but Aoi understood them, and he knew that Reita did too, because the next thrust of his hips was not gentle in the least. The burning, stretching feeling intensified, and Aoi made a strangled sound, hands clutching at the bedsheets for dear life, knuckles turning white.
“Yeah,” Reita groaned. “Keep making those noises… I know this is how you want it.” There wasn’t a single hint of a question in those words any longer, just the knowledge that he understood and knew exactly what Aoi wanted—and he did, too. Yes, this was what Aoi wanted. Just to affirm Reita’s statement, he thrust his own hips yet again, making another pleasured sound as he did so.
“Not going to last,” Aoi warned them, not quite understanding why he said it, because his lovers more than likely already knew it. “Keep… moving like that, and I won’t… I can’t.”
“Then don’t try,” Miyavi replied, hands soothing over the marks he’d left on Aoi’s back. “It’s more than okay if you can’t. Result is still gonna be the same, and--”
“And we want you to lose it,” Reita interrupted. “Don’t try to hold on.” Another hard thrust, and Aoi bit down on his lip, not quite letting his moan escape. “Come on,” Reita continued, “move with us.”
Aoi did as Reita told him to do, and they soon found a rhythm together, and though it was somewhat awkward, it was just as hard and fast as they all wanted it to be, and Aoi agreed that it didn’t really matter how long it lasted (though he wanted it to last forever), because the end result would be the same. Any remaining thoughts of trying to hold on and trying to keep himself under control immediately disappeared when they changed their angle so that Miyavi was hitting his prostate, and he nearly screamed when Miyavi began fisting his cock, matching the rhythm of their hips.
“Too much,” Aoi almost sobbed, his body shaking violently with the effort of his restraint. “I can’t…I--”
“Then don’t,” Miyavi breathed, squeezing Aoi’s cock and kissing him again, metal clinking against metal and only serving to make Aoi tremble even more.
“Don’t,” Reita echoed, and then his teeth were on Aoi’s skin once more, sinking in as he rocked his hips again, and it was enough and too much at the same time. Aoi tore his lips away from Miyavi’s with a scream, Reita bit him even harder, and Aoi could feel wetness on his cheeks as he came, spilling himself onto Miyavi’s fingers. The wetness could have been tears or sweat or a mix of both. In all honesty, that didn’t matter, either.
He opened his eyes slowly to find Miyavi gazing at him in something akin to wonder. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Miyavi whispered, touching his cheek with the hand that wasn’t still wrapped around his cock.
“He’s still clenching around us,” Reita said, softly kissing where he’d bitten. “It’s almost--”
“Enough to make you come without doing anything else,” Miyavi finished for Reita, nodding understandingly. Then, he smiled. “One more time, Rei. Slide against me. Make him clench again. Make me come.”
“You shouldn’t be allowed to talk like that,” Reita said, the words barely audible. Aoi agreed—it was too sexy for words when Miyavi talked dirty. But then Reita was moving again and Aoi re-opened his eyes again just in time to watch Miyavi come, to watch the way his face changed as he spiraled down into pure bliss. He wanted to tell Miyavi that he was beautiful, too, but he couldn’t manage the words. His body was overly-sensitive now, and Reita’s continued movement sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through him, making him shudder and moan and clench all over again.
Reita kept moving, his thrust growing more and more erratic, signaling just how close he was, and then he cried out, arms sliding around Aoi and holding him, the pressure almost too much, but Aoi didn’t tell him to stop. One of his hands fumbled for one of Reita’s, and then Miyavi’s hand was there too, helping Reita hold on… or maybe helping him let go. Reita cried out and his arms tightened around Aoi, hips moving in quick, spasmodic jerks before he finally stilled, burying his face against Aoi’s back.
Long moments of silence (save for their heavy breathing) passed, and eventually, Aoi shifted slightly. He had to try twice before he managed speech. “Getting cramped,” he said apologetically, and both Miyavi and Reita chuckled breathlessly. They moved, and Aoi winced slightly when they slid out of him, missing their heat despite the sudden discomfort of their position.
They rearranged themselves, and if it had been possible, Aoi would have came again when he watched Reita snatch at Miyavi’s hand and lick his release off of Miyavi’s fingers. Aoi snuggled between them, waiting for his breathing to even out somewhat before he spoke again: “Well, uhm… that wasn’t the plan, but it definitely worked for me.”
”We noticed,” Reita replied, snickering. “And now… I mean, once we get our heads screwed back on straight, are we still planning on heading out to eat, or was that part of your little ‘plan’, too?”
Aoi felt himself blushing, but before he could answer, Miyavi said, “Actually… before we talk about food, I think there’s something more important that needs to be addressed. Rei and I were thinking, and--”
“Miyavi,” Reita interrupted, almost warningly, “perhaps now isn’t the best time to talk about it.”
“If not now, then when, Rei? And why isn’t now the best time?” Their taller lover seemed to be somewhat frustrated, and if he was willing to put off food to talk about whatever it was he wanted to talk about and yet, Reita didn’t seem willing to talk about it right now….
Aoi sat up a little, arching an eyebrow and looking back and forth between his lovers confusedly. “I don’t understand,” he began. “If something’s wrong, we need to talk about it.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Reita said, and then sighed. “We just hadn’t agreed on a time to bring this up, but of course, I shouldn’t be surprised that Miyavi and his big mouth would want to blabber about it now.”
“You love my ‘big mouth’,” Miyavi leered.
Reita paused, his gaze leaving Miyavi’s eyes to settle on his lips. “That, I do,” he answered. He then cleared his throat and addressed Aoi once more. “… We had been discussing that it gets a little tiring, having to go back and forth like this to see each other.”
Aoi sat up a little more, his concern more than likely evident on his face and in his voice. “And…? What does that mean?”
Miyavi was fumbling with the bedsheets now, and his eyes were glued to them. “We were just… We were thinking.”
“About all of us, living together.” Reita sounded nervous. Aoi turned to look at him again, astonished. Reita quickly (and almost meekly) continued: “We wanted to ask you, as I said, but hadn’t chosen when we should, but I guess now’s as good as ever, and if you don’t want to, we understand. Just--”
“This place is big enough,” Aoi interrupted. “Plenty big enough for the three of us.”
“Are you sure?” Miyavi asked, and he sounded just as uncertain as Reita. “I mean, you’re sure you’d be okay with that? The three of us all living under one roof?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Aoi countered. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with waking up to both of you every morning? Why wouldn’t I be okay with being able to fall asleep beside both of you every night? Why wouldn’t I be okay with cuddling up with you on the couch whenever I want instead of having to ask you to come over here or whatever just so we can do that? You honestly think I wouldn’t be okay with that?”
Aoi felt them both relax somewhat. It felt so strange, to have to reassure them about this. Why would they even have thought that he would have told them that he wouldn’t be okay with the three of them living together? It would be perfect.
“So, uhm,” Reita began (it was so unlike him to fumble over his words), “we’re settled, then? Miya and I can stay here?”
Aoi could have whacked him over the head just to knock some sense into him. “Of course you can. As if I would say that you can’t. This will definitely make things more… interesting.”
Miyavi smirked. “Oh, that’s one way to put it. It also means that Rei and I can take advantage of you anytime we want to~.”
Aoi turned his head to press a light kiss to Miyavi’s mouth. “That goes both ways, you know~,” he teased back.
“Oh, I know,” Miyavi replied, his smirk growing wider. He winked and then stretched a little, only to wriggle closer to Aoi and reach over to softly stroke Reita’s arm. “Are we getting up for dinner anytime soon?” he asked. Yeah, that sounded more like Miyavi.
Reita smiled, and his smile seemed almost lazy. “In a minute.”
Aoi sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. In a minute sounded perfect.
He had thought about asking them to live with him before now, but, like them, he just hadn’t known how or when to bring the subject up (he was silly too, he had to admit). It was true that he hadn’t exactly planned on having this conversation or making this decision today, but then again… nothing had really been going as planned today.
But like everything that had happened thus far today, this was just another deviation from the plan that Aoi could honestly say he didn’t mind in the least.
Who needed a plan, anyway?