Kagome (_newworld) wrote,

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Something Eternal - Reita/Aoi

Title: Something Eternal
Author: Kagome
Theme: Lyrics # 9. Lyrics are located at the beginning of the fic.
Warnings: Shower smut, dirty-talk, sap.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Reita/Aoi (the GazettE)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Eternity doesn’t really exist, does it?
Comments: Written for 10_encounters. The lyrics, which are at the beginning of the fic, are from NewS’s Snow Express. Inspired by shinjimimura03’s gorgeous artwork, which can be found here. I am so sorry that this took so long, everyone. Please forgive me! <333

Something Eternal

Let's become stars so we'll be able to attain an eternal love
Time comes to a standstill, as if it's the request of the angels

Aoi stares at the night sky through the hotel window, admiring the stars. His only problem is that he can’t truly appreciate their beauty as much as he’d like to, because there are too many lights. There are always too many lights in the city.

Part of him is still thrumming with energy because of their earlier performance – the last one of this tour – and part of him is utterly exhausted because of said performance. Part of him wants to snap like a rubber band and go bouncing around the room just to get rid of his pent-up energy (and how he can have any energy at the moment is beyond him), and part of him wants to do nothing more than take a shower and then curl up in one of the beds with Reita (they are sharing a room with two beds, although they’ve only been using one of them) and go to sleep.

He ignores both of those urges – which are polar opposites – for the time being, choosing instead to perch on the window seat and gaze outside, his nose pressed against the glass. He’s pretty sure he’s leaving a smudge, but he’s not too concerned about that at the moment. He is watching. He is thinking.

“Rei?” Aoi asks softly, and he hears Reita pause in rifling through their bags, “What does it mean to possess something that’s eternal? There really is no such thing, is there? Something eternal, I mean.”

The sound of footsteps on carpet, and then Reita’s arms are around him, warm and inviting. Aoi leans back against him (yes, there is a smudge on the window), and Reita presses a kiss to the top of his head. “How is your brain even functioning well enough for you to be able to think anywhere near coherently right now? I was looking for something a minute ago, and then I forgot what it was. I kept looking in the hopes that I’d remember what it was I was looking for. I must be getting old, or turning into Kai.”

“I don’t know,” Aoi responds truthfully. “I don’t think I’m being very coherent. I was just… I was thinking. About what it means to be eternal. What do you think it means to be eternal, Rei?” Of course, it’s simple enough to look up the definition of ‘eternity’ in a dictionary. He knows what the word means, and that is, in essence, what is so confusing about it.

“Eternity is forever, Aoi,” Reita says, and then he pauses, as though he is pondering over his next words. “Eternity is an infinite amount of time. It’s endless. It’s always.”

They are just words. Definitions. Synonyms. Substitutions. But what do they really mean? “So when you tell me that you’ll always love me, you mean that you’ll love me eternally?” Aoi chooses his words carefully and says them gently. He doesn’t want an argument—he just wants to know what Reita means. He wants to know if Reita understands what he’s telling him.

Reita’s eyes narrow slightly, though Aoi can tell that the action isn’t due to anger or mistrust. It’s due to confusion, and Aoi can’t really blame him for that. He probably isn’t making much sense, anyway. “Yes, Aoi. Why are you asking me this?”

“I know I must sound like a complete idiot,” Aoi says, one corner of his lips turning upwards in a half-smile, “but I was just… thinking, is all. Pretty amazing that I have the ability to do much of that right now—you know I’m typically more than a little out of it after lives.” He turns away from Reita, his gaze once again settling on the stars. It’s funny how some things can be in plain sight and yet so far out of reach. “The first time you told me that, I was about to fall asleep, and you didn’t think I heard you, but I did. At that time, in my near-sleep state of what might’ve been something like insanity, I wished we could be like the stars—have real eternity.” He licked his lips, pausing momentarily and toying with the corkscrew piercing. “But I don’t want that.”

He hears Reita swallow, and when he speaks, he sounds unsure of himself, or perhaps unsure of what Aoi means. “Why don’t you?” he asks, and there is also something like fear in his voice—Aoi has more than likely unintentionally given him the wrong idea.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you as long as I can,” Aoi rushes to explain, turning around fully and meeting Reita’s eyes. “I’m saying… even the stars die, Rei. Forever isn’t… it’s not feasible. You won’t be here forever, and neither will I. But it’s okay. Now is what’s most important, anyway. That’s what I was thinking.” He smiles brightly, hoping to reassure the bassist that he is all right and that they are all right. He wants Reita to know that he has nothing to worry about (aside from Aoi’s current mental state, perhaps), and that Aoi is happy with what time they do have together.

“You,” Reita begins, cupping Aoi’s cheeks and leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before continuing, “think entirely too much sometimes, you know that?” He chuckles then, and Aoi knows that he understands, and that he is okay, too.

Aoi’s smile turns into what he hopes is a mischievous smirk. “I was also thinking that I’d like a shower.” He stands up, purposefully brushing against Reita as he moves past him—a subtle, yet sensual movement that he knows the bassist won’t misinterpret as an accident, because it is no accident at all.

Reita doesn’t reach for him; he doesn’t try to stop Aoi from moving away from him, but his words are just as effective as a physical restraint—they make Aoi stop dead in his tracks. “Is that a suggestion, baby? Because I was actually thinking that I’d like a shower too, and if you want me to join you, I think you should just tell me. If you do want me to join you, let me warn you that I’m not sure how well I can behave myself. Or was that your point? You want me to misbehave, hmm~?”

Reita’s words are light and playful, but they carry with them an undercurrent of want, and it is the want that makes Aoi stop just shy of entering the bathroom, his breath catching in his throat. A misbehaving Reita is exactly what he wants.

“That’s my point,” Aoi tells him, keeping his back to the blonde as he begins to undress, stripping down to just his corset and arm warmers. “I want you to misbehave. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have made the suggestion.” A somewhat subtle suggestion, but a suggestion all the same.

“Good thing, then,” Reita replies, and Aoi can hear the smile in his voice. “Because I’m not sure I can behave myself at all anyway when it comes to you and a shower.”

There is a slight rustle then—not enough noise for pants, and so Aoi imagines that Reita must be removing his shirt. He is more than a little tempted to look back over his shoulder and watch the bassist remove his clothes, but he doesn’t look over his shoulder. Better yet, he would love to turn around, go to Reita, and help him undress, but he doesn’t do that, either. He forces himself to take those few steps into the bathroom and he doesn’t stop until he’s reached the shower.

As Aoi waits for the water warm up, he hears the sound of a zipper being unzipped, but it’s too loud to be the zipper of Reita’s pants. It sounds more like one of their bags, and he’s pretty sure that he knows what his lover’s searching for right now.

Just to tease, he calls out, “Lube, Rei~! Don’t forget what you’re looking for this time!” Then he steps into the shower, under the spray of the water, neglecting to remove his corset and his arm warmers (a deliberate move). He thinks he can hear his lover yell something back, but his reply is lost in the sound of the water pounding against the tiles.

A few moments later, and Aoi hears Reita’s voice again, though his words are much clearer this time: “They’re going to kill you for doing that, you know.”

Aoi steps away from the showerhead and opens his eyes, blinking questioningly at Reita (who is shirtless, but not completely naked. Yet). “… For the clothes? It’s just water, you know. Was planning on being entirely naked shortly, if you hurry up and get in here.” Lifting one hand, he beckons Reita closer. “Is my almost-nakedness not tempting enough for you~?” More teasing, of course.

Reita snorts. “Aoi, if you were completely clothed, it would be tempting enough. You, in anything or in nothing at all, are tempting enough. Judging by the smug look on your face, though, you already know that, so I’ll refrain from contributing to the swelling of your ego any further.” He steps into the shower then, not even bothering to remove his pants – much less his boxers – beforehand.

Aoi feigns a pout, jutting his lower lip out childishly. He resists the urge to something particularly naughty (and silly)—something along the lines of ‘It’s not my ego that’s swelling’ and instead he unnecessarily informs Reita that he is still wearing his jeans even though he knows Reita is fully aware of this fact. “Trying to be a copycat?” Aoi asks as he moves closer to the blonde, leaving mere centimeters of empty space separating them. “But hmm… I guess if you were trying to be a copycat, you would’ve left your shirt on as opposed to your pants.”

Reita shrugs. “Going with a different trend.” He makes the first move, closing the minimal distance between them and brushing his lips lightly against Aoi’s. He then flashes what appears to be a triumphant smile. “And look, I didn’t forget what I was looking for this time~.” He dangles the lubricant in front of Aoi’s face before setting it beside the half-empty shampoo bottle (that shampoo is Aoi’s current favorite brand, and apparently it’s Reita’s favorite brand too—he’s been using it even more than Aoi has lately).

“Well,” Aoi murmurs, sliding his arms around Reita’s neck and pressing provocatively against him, “you wanna try getting out of these clothes now?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer—his hands already begin to work on the blonde’s belt. This isn’t going to be one of those nights where they’ll take things slowly; there will be other nights for that. Tonight, Aoi is feeling too needy, and he wants, and he doesn’t think he can wait. They might not have forever, but they have now.

Belt undone, Aoi unbuttons and unzips Reita’s pants, hands trembling slightly with anticipation. He then begins shoving the bassist’s pants and boxers down together, but he barely manages to get the annoying articles of clothing (that are only in the way) below the level of Reita’s hips before the blonde is not only pressing harder against him, but rubbing against him.

The material of Reita’s pants drags along the length of Aoi’s cock, and suddenly, Aoi feels incredibly raw and exposed, in spite of the fact that he isn’t even fully unclothed yet. It feels good, yes, but it’s almost painful too. Almost, but that doesn’t mean that Aoi wants Reita to stop, even though his lover is distracting the hell out of him and Aoi would really like for him to be naked now.

“Rei,” he growls softly even as he presses more insistently against Reita’s body, “you’re distracting me, and distraction makes it difficult for me to get you naked.” He starts to shove Reita’s pants and boxers down again (and pleasepleaseplease let them be more cooperative this time), but he is stopped in mid-motion when Reita abruptly grabs his wrists and shoves him, and Aoi gasps as he suddenly finds himself with his back pressed against the tiled wall of the shower. He’s back underneath the showerhead now, and the water is warmer than the tiles against his back (as is to be expected), and Reita’s body is warmer than the water (or it feels that way, at least—perhaps it is in actuality the other way around).

“I was thinking,” Reita begins, and he tightens his grip on Aoi’s wrists, causing the guitarist to hiss softly, “that I should remove your clothes first.” His mouth, so very hot, presses wet kisses to the side of Aoi’s neck (which is already wet anyway), and Aoi moans low in his throat, fingers flexing, wanting to tangle in unruly blonde locks, though being unable to because of Reita’s current hold on his wrists.

“Rei,” Aoi says again, and he sounds breathless already, damnit, “I--”

“No,” Reita interrupts, and his tone is firm but also gentle. “No more talking for right now, Aoi.” He pauses and smiles, adding what seems to be an afterthought: “Unless it’s begging. You know how I like to hear you say please.”

Aoi knows, all right. He opens his mouth again to reply, but then changes his mind and nods instead. Reita had said no more talking for right now, hadn’t he?

“Glad you understand.” Reita’s lips are on Aoi’s in the next instant, and his tongue is probing and pressing. Aoi doesn’t put up a fight—he doesn’t try to resist or push back, mainly because he doesn’t want to. That can be another game for another night.

Aoi’s lips part willingly, eagerly, and when Reita’s tongue slips past them, Aoi darts his own tongue forward, tasting Reita just as Reita tastes him. Still, he wishes he could touch the blonde, but the pressure on his wrists reminds him that he can’t. At least, not just yet. So, he busies himself with what he can do, which at the moment is kissing Reita just as hungrily as the bassist is kissing him. Now that, he can do.

He can also move his legs, and so he does that, too. Or, rather, he moves one of his legs, hooking it around Reita’s waist and dragging him closer. Reita groans against his mouth - into his mouth – and Aoi swallows that sound, not quite willing to break their kiss yet, because the wet slide of their lips and tongues is addicting and Aoi can’t get enough of it.

Eventually, however, their lips part, and Reita smiles knowingly down at Aoi, baring his teeth, but it’s not a threat. Aoi knows he has nothing to worry about, even when Reita’s hold on his wrists tightens briefly. He trusts Reita implicitly, and he knows that Reita knows what he likes, anyway. Aoi likes this--likes a bit of roughness every now and again. He likes gentle, too, and all of the places in-between the two. Right now, though, rough or gentle isn’t important. Reita can be both or either and Aoi will be happy. Right now, Aoi just wants to feel. He wants Reita, pure and simple, and he’s pretty sure that the blonde knows that.

“You just can’t stay still, can you?” Reita asks him, though there is no tone of genuine disapproval in his voice. He releases Aoi’s wrists, and the guitarist feels a mixture of relief and disappointment (more of the former than the latter, because now he can touch) when he does. The miniscule amount of disappointment disappears rather quickly, however, when Reita’s hands begin sliding down his body. His left hand moves fluidly over the guitarist’s hip, and then slips further down and back, lightly squeezing Aoi’s ass.

Aoi whimpers. “Rei….”

Reita’s right hand is no longer on Aoi’s body; instead, the palm of it is pressed flat against the shower wall. His left hand is moving again, too, fingers caressing the skin of Aoi’s thigh, which is still wound tightly around Reita’s waist.

“Aoi,” Reita drawls, and he’s not smiling, but Aoi can tell that he wants to, “you really are a dirty, sneaky little cheat. You know that? Distracting me like this….” He leans in, tracing his tongue along the shell of Aoi’s ear before drawing back, and now he is smiling. “Cheater~.”

Aoi wants to tell him that he’s not cheating. He wants to tell him that every move is fair game. However, he finds Reita’s lips to be much more tempting than not-so-snappy comebacks, and so he takes the opportunity to slide one arm around Reita’s neck (the bassist isn’t restraining him anymore, after all) and pull him down for another kiss.

Reita’s lips and tongue are still insistent, still demanding, and Aoi’s still just as happy to relent and give (and take), mouth going slack against Reita’s as the bassist pushes his tongue inside. Addictive, Aoi reminds himself, even though it isn’t necessary, because it’s a given—it’s a constant thought always at the back of his mind. Reita’s kisses are addictive. Reita’s touch is addictive. Reita inside of him is addictive.

Speaking of….

The hand that isn’t currently clutching at one of Reita’s shoulders slips between their bodies, pushing ineffectually at Reita’s pants, trying to shove them down and off. But they’re wet now, and will be more difficult to remove.

“Damn pants,” Aoi mutters when their kiss is once again broken. He is lightheaded and breathing heavily, and he knows that he needs to pause; he knows that he needs to breathe, but he wants to kiss Reita again. Now. So he does, though only briefly. There is the wet slide of tongue against tongue, their lips not touching this time, and Aoi shudders even as he draws back, eyes half-open, lashes fluttering.

“That didn’t sound like begging to me,” Reita says, and he sounds almost thoughtful. “Or maybe it was begging somehow? Maybe you’re impatient and you want my pants off now? Maybe you want me to fuck you, right now?” He rocks his hips forward, trapping Aoi’s erection between them, and he rubs again, though now it is his abdomen that brushes against the brunette’s cock—skin-on-skin as opposed to denim-on-skin.

Aoi moans and clings tighter to Reita, trying to move but he can’t. He’s trapped between the wall and Reita, and he’d really like to move his hips to get some friction, but he can’t do even that much, considering his current position. Maybe if he moves his leg….

“Move your leg, Aoi,” Reita tells him. “I want you standing on both feet from now on. That means no more sneaky maneuvers like you pulled a few minutes ago.”

Great minds think alike.

Aoi hurries to do as he’s been told (and he probably would have done it anyway even if Reita hadn’t said anything about it because, fuck, he’s feeling pretty damn needy right now and sure as hell isn’t one for waiting—at least, not right at this moment. Okay, so maybe he isn’t one for waiting much at all when it comes to Reita. Ever. But that’s beside the point), unwinding his leg from Reita’s waist and letting his foot settle on the shower floor. His cock is no longer jammed against Reita’s belly, but is instead pressing against Reita’s thigh. More denim, but Aoi can’t say that he minds it, really, in spite of the fact that now he really wants Reita’s pants off and he really wants more of the addictive brush of bare skin against bare skin with no barriers between them.

The brunette stands there, still pressed tightly against Reita’s body, unwilling to move and even more unwilling to let his lover go even though he knows that he has to, because this can’t progress if they don’t move. So Aoi dares to act without consent, reaching for Reita’s pants again, but he is stopped short by Reita, who steps back and shakes his head.

Your clothes first, Aoi,” Reita reminds him before tsking softly, continuing to shake his head. “I told you that already, didn’t I? You have such a bad memory.” He is smiling as he says it, though, which tells Aoi that the blonde isn’t the least bit irritated with him (not that Aoi really expected him to be), and is instead enjoying himself whilst teasing the hell out of him. Nothing unusual about that, and it isn’t like Aoi doesn’t enjoy the teasing, but really, doesn’t Reita understand how ridiculously needy he feels tonight?

Actually, he probably does, and that is more than likely why he is still teasing Aoi. Sometimes, his lover can be almost cruel with his near-constant teasing, but he always makes up for it. Aoi suspects that tonight will not be any different, though he does wish that Reita would just hurry the fuck up already because Aoi wants. He just wants. Maybe it’s a bit greedy of him, but he thinks he’s entitled to a little avarice every now and again.

After what feels like a short eternity, Reita steps close to him again—not close enough for their bodies to be touching, but just shy of it. Aoi wants to reach for him again but doesn’t, thinking that Reita might only pull away again. It’s difficult to stay perfectly still, especially with his lover this close, but Aoi manages, his arms at his sides and his head tilted back slightly so that he is gazing up at the bassist, unblinking.

“Not going to make any more sudden moves, Aoi-chan~?” Reita questions, lifting a hand and trailing his index finger down the front of Aoi’s corset, stopping just short of touching naked skin. More teasing. How is it that this started out with Aoi being the one doing the teasing and now Reita’s the one with the upper hand? Not that Aoi’s keeping score or anything. Really.

“No,” Aoi answers, his voice guttural and low with need. He isn’t surprised, and he’s pretty sure that Reita isn’t surprised, either—after all, Reita’s words and actions are certainly meant to provoke him to such a state. “I won’t. Just… Please, Reita.” It’s the last card that he has up his sleeve (figuratively speaking), and he knows without a doubt that it’ll get him what he wants (what they both want), because Reita absolutely loves to hear him beg. Hadn’t the bassist encouraged it, anyway?

It does the trick ohyespleasethankyou. In the span of time that it takes Aoi to draw his next breath, Reita is shoving him back against the wall and bruising their mouths together, and now he can’t breathe—the air is frozen in his lungs and all he can do is kiss Reita back. He dares to touch Reita again, though this time he doesn’t try to shove the blonde’s jeans the rest of the way down. This time, he only slides his arms around his lover’s waist and holds onto him as they kiss, and this time, Reita doesn’t try to stop his motion.

The kiss ends too quickly and yet almost not quickly enough, leaving Aoi hungry for more and dizzy due to lack of oxygen. Reita’s kisses tend to frequently have that effect on him. He’s never complained and he isn’t about to start now, especially given the fact that he has no reason whatsoever to complain in the first place.

“I think,” Reita begins after a moment, his breathing just as ragged as Aoi’s, “that we can leave these on.” He lightly pats the arm warmers that the guitarist is still wearing before once again moving his hands to Aoi’s corset. “This is what’s really in my way, and I want it off. Don’t you?”

It’s a pretty silly question, but Aoi knows that that is exactly why Reita’s asked it—because it has an obvious answer. Both of them know that Aoi isn’t about to say no, because getting rid of the corset means that there will be more exposed skin for Reita to touch and taste and there’s no way in hell that Aoi would refuse either of them that simple joy. Some part of him wants to growl out a sarcastic reply, but he’s rather convinced that if he does that, nothing good will come of it (or perhaps Reita will up the roughness factor, and it’s a tempting idea for just a moment—almost enough to make Aoi reply to Reita’s smart-ass question with a smart-ass answer, but he isn’t in the mood for anything quite that rough tonight) and so he keeps the sarcastic reply to himself and instead tells Reita the obvious answer, the answer that Reita wants: “Yes, baby, I do.”

Reita smiles and it’s almost feral, giving Aoi the mental image of a cat cornering a mouse. Aoi is the mouse and he has nowhere to go now—he’s sealed his fate and now he has to deal with it, which he will do quite happily, because this is his Reita and in spite of how he’s smiling at Aoi right now, it’s all part of an act. Reita always seems to know what Aoi wants (both inside and outside of the bedroom) without Aoi having to say anything at all, and so Aoi is confident that Reita understands how he’s feeling at the moment—that a little roughness is perfectly fine by him, but he doesn’t want aggression to play a huge part in their lovemaking tonight.

Reita reaches for the strings on the corset, untying the knot at the bottom before beginning the process of unlacing the last item of clothing that Aoi was currently wearing (or, rather, the last item of clothing that actually mattered). It takes patience (a factor which Aoi is running pretty low on, and he’s pretty sure that Reita is too), and Aoi tries not to fidget as Reita works, telling himself over and over again that the damn thing will be off soon and then….

Well, they’ll still have the rest of Reita’s clothes to worry about, but progress is progress and progress is a good thing.

Finally, the wet corset is tossed outside of the shower and onto the floor, and it makes a wet noise when it lands. There’s definitely going to be a puddle there, but Aoi can run a towel over it later. It’s not worth worrying about right now. Right now, the only thing that Aoi wants to focus on is Reita.

“Can I--” Aoi begins, meaning to ask if he can remove Reita’s pants and boxers now, but Reita cuts him off, lips and tongue and teeth on his nipple, and Aoi moans, tangling his fingers into wet blonde hair and tugging gently. “God, Rei, let me….” He trails off this time, letting the rest of the question remain unasked, though he knows that Reita understands what he wants.

“No~,” Reita responds almost cheerily, though his voice is so low that Aoi can barely hear it over the sound of the water still pounding on the tiles. They are standing away from the spray, but Aoi can still feel the heat emanating from it—or he thinks he can, anyway. Maybe the only heat he’s really feeling is coming from Reita.

Aoi considers pouting, since it sometimes works. He has the feeling that it might not work at the moment, however, and so he resolves to avoid pouting, but he can’t seem to stop the soft whine that works its way out of his throat and past his lips without his permission. It’s not what he intended, but it’s out there now and he obviously can’t take it back. He has the feeling that Reita will find his whining to be most amusing.

Again, he is correct. Reita chuckles and directs his attention to Aoi’s as-of-yet neglected nipple, and he remedies the situation, giving it similar treatment and causing Aoi to groan and writhe and tighten his hold on Reita’s hair.

After giving Aoi’s hardened nipple one last gentle lick, Reita draws back slightly and straightens so that Aoi has to look up at him once more. He is smiling, clearly still amused. “Turn around, you impatient thing, and put your hands on the wall.”

Well, well. Maybe the whining did the trick, after all (though Aoi has to admit – even if only to himself – that he believes that this has little to do with his whining and more to do with the bassist’s own growing impatience; he sometimes tries to hide that impatience, but Aoi can always see it clearly, even if Reita only displays it subtly).

Aoi turns around, pressing his palms flat against the tiles, which aren’t cool to the touch anymore—not like they had been when he’d first entered the shower, and he releases a shuddering breath, waiting. His body trembles slightly, and he feels like he can’t wait any longer but he obviously can, because the seconds continue to tick by with nothing but Reita’s breath on the back of his neck and it’s the blonde’s breathing that makes his trembling more noticeable (no doubt) and makes his cock pulse and his balls tighten.

From the corner of his right eye, he notices movement, only just within his peripheral vision, and Aoi wants to turn his head to watch but he doesn’t. He can see well enough to know that it’s Reita’s arm that’s moving, and the little tube of lubricant is what his fingers are currently closing around. Oh yes. Please. Not soon but now, Aoi wants to half-demand and half-beg, but his words are lost before his brain can make that connection between thinking and saying; his words are lost because two of Reita’s currently lube-slicked fingers are inside of him and curling and twisting and Aoi is keening and rocking backwards without conscious thought, and he is content to forget about what it was that he wanted to say, because what he wanted (wants) is happening, and he knows it’ll only be a short wait before Reita will replace his fingers with his length.

“Is this what you want Aoi?” Reita murmurs, his lips pressed lightly against the back of the brunette’s neck. He thrusts his fingers and then scissors them, and Aoi can feel him smile. “I can fuck you with my fingers, just like this, and make you come for me.” He adds a third finger and twists his wrist again, and this time, the calloused tips of his fingers brush against Aoi’s prostate.

“Nngh! Fuck, Rei….” It’s all Aoi can manage for the moment—there are other things he wants to say, but he can’t fucking think, and it’s all because of Reita and his damned fingers. In fact, Aoi is under the impression that everything is Reita’s fault right now. Aoi’s lack of coherency is Reita’s fault. Aoi’s lack of control over the movement of his hips is Reita’s fault. The water isn’t as warm as it was, and that is Reita’s fault, because he’s spent so much time teasing Aoi. He’s certain he would be able to think of several other things if more blood were circulating to his brain. Again, Reita’s fault.

“Is that a yes or a no, baby?” Aoi can hear his lover’s control slipping—not snapping, but slipping. Slipping is more graceful than snapping, but when it comes to Reita, the slipping always comes just before the snapping. His voice is still mostly-calm, still mostly-teasing, but Aoi can hear the bassist’s need (just like always) just below the surface. The teasing is just an act now—a way for Reita to hold onto those last few tattered shreds of self-control.

Aoi knows that Reita wants him to say no. Hell, Aoi himself wants to say no (although a tiny part of him wants to say yes, just because he knows exactly what it’s like for Reita to make him come using only his fingers, but that, too, can be saved for another night). ‘No’ is the answer that both of them want, because both of them want more than just this. Aoi can hear it in Reita’s voice—can feel it even in the steady in-and-out of his fingers.

He manages to answer, fighting through the thick haze of lust in order to speak, and when he does, it’s the answer he knows his lover wants to hear: “No. No, Rei. You. Please oh fuck, please.”

It’s obviously enough to convince Reita, because almost before Aoi can finish speaking, Reita’s fingers are gone from his body, and it’s a small but nonetheless significant loss. However, Aoi knows what’s about to happen next, and that is sufficient consolation.

The sound of another wet plop on the floor signifies that Reita’s pants are gone now, and Aoi again has the desire to turn around and look but he fights it. He waits. He is patient. Really. Sometimes. Never. But he tries, damnit.

He thankfully doesn’t have to wait long.

Reita doesn’t shove in, not like Aoi half expects him to. Instead, he is gentle (almost overwhelmingly slow), pushing in slowly, so slowly, until he is all the way inside of Aoi, and it’s un-fucking-believable – beautiful and amazing – like it always is. Aoi nearly chokes on his moan, his blunt nails attempting to dig into the tiles as Reita breathes raggedly against the back of his neck, his hips now still. Aoi knows that neither of them can stay still for long, but it’s okay to be like this, motionless, for as long as they can hold out.

“Aoi,” Reita whispers, and there is no teasing tone now—only raw emotion. “You know I can’t….” He trails off, nuzzling at Aoi’s neck and pressing soft kisses to the skin just beneath his hairline.

The guitarist understands what his lover means—he can’t stay still. The stillness has only lasted for a minute at the most and a handful of seconds at the least, but that’s okay, too, because Aoi still wants--he wants movement and heat and slickness, and he knows Reita wants it too, so he purposefully clenches his muscles around Reita’s cock, and both of them whimper in unison. The moment passes, and Aoi says, “You don’t have to. Move.” Maybe it’s too much like a demand (which it is, really), and although Aoi doesn’t think Reita would mind it because he believes the blonde is also too far gone, he adds, “Please.”

“All right,” Reita agrees, and Aoi feels him nod. “Not that I can resist you when you beg like that, anyway.” His grip on Aoi’s hips tightens, and then, oh yes, he’s moving and it’s still slow but ‘great’ doesn’t even begin to describe how good it feels. It’s not fast enough, but they can work their way up to that (and Aoi’s pretty sure it won’t take long either).

In and out, out and in. Long, slow thrusts that make Aoi’s toes curl. On the next press inwards, Reita does something – swivels his hips somehow – and Aoi moans helplessly, his cock twitching and spilling pre-cum. He feels himself tighten around Reita again, though this time, it’s not a purposeful action—it is completely involuntary.

“Ah, fuck,” Reita half-growls and half-whimpers, his nails suddenly digging sharply into Aoi’s hips, but Aoi hardly notices the sting. What he does notice is how Reita’s breath hitches and how Reita’s cock throbs inside of him.

The next thrust is faster and a little harder—a slow build, more wood to stoke the fire burning low in Aoi’s belly. “Yes,” the brunette hisses, “Yes, Rei, that… that’s….” He can’t even finish his sentence now, but he doesn’t think it matters, because he’s sure that Reita knows what he’s trying to say. He’s sure words aren’t even necessary at all at this point.

“Touch yourself for me,” Reita tells Aoi, and Aoi doesn’t hesitate: his fingers are curled tightly around his cock and stroking in time with Reita’s thrusts without so much as one iota of conscious effort (it’s like he’s in a trance, almost, but is acutely aware of what is happening). He doesn’t have to think about it—he just does it.

Judging by the sound of his voice, the blonde is pleased. “Yeah, yeah, baby. Just like that. Touch yourself while I fuck you. Feels good, huh?” Another thrust. Faster, harder, rougher. There it is—the snapping that Aoi’s been waiting for (because it is inevitable). The sound of Reita’s self-control snapping is nearly audible and Aoi can almost taste it on his tongue, too. It’s sweet and tangy at the same time. Perfect. He likes that taste. He wants to somehow bottle it up and keep it all to himself.

When Reita speeds up, Aoi speeds up. When Reita shoves in particularly hard, Aoi squeezes himself almost to the point of pain. His cock is flushed and slick and twitching and hot in his hand, and Aoi can’t hold on much longer. He tries to tell Reita as much but for some reason, he can’t manage to get out more than, “YesfuckyesReimore.”

Reita gives him what he begs for, changing the angle so that the next time he rocks his hips forward, he hits Aoi’s prostate, and something that is very much like a scream is torn from Aoi’s throat.

“Yeah,” Reita says, repeating the motion. “Like this, yeah? Keep stroking your cock, Aoi. God, wanna watch you come….” He trails off again, groaning, and he sounds as helpless as Aoi feels.

“Yesyesyes,” Aoi replies mindlessly as he continues to work his hand up and down his length, stroking hard. “Yes, Rei. Want.” He can’t put into words what he wants; or rather, he can, but he wants so much: He wants Reita to keep going, just like this; he wants to forever feel Reita’s breath against him, just like this; he wants to feel Reita come inside of him, warm and slick.

Aoi’s own control is torn to shreds as well, unsalvageable right now, and he doesn’t even care. He doesn’t need it. He doesn’t want it. He has all he needs. And when he comes, his world turning to black as he closes his eyes and then to white as his orgasm crashes over and through him, he thinks that if forever existed, he’d want to spend it with Reita.

Somewhere in the middle of his own orgasm, Reita comes too, crying out against the back of Aoi’s neck and Aoi feels him tense and jerk and spill inside of him, and there is more heat and slickness. It’s right. It’s perfect.

Aoi comes back to himself slowly, orgasm fading and replaced with the lazy afterglow. Both his and Reita’s breathing gradually becomes more normal and less discordant, and when the blonde finally pulls out of him, Aoi can’t help the soft grunt that leaves him.

The water is cold now, Aoi notices. It’s probably been cold for a little while, but he doesn’t pay it any mind (just like he doesn’t pay the spatter of his release on the wall any mind), because Reita is bidding him to turn around. When he does, he finds himself enveloped in a warm hug.

“I love you, Aoi,” Reita whispers fiercely against Aoi’s temple. “I will always love you, and it may not last for an eternity, but it sure as hell is going to last until the final breath leaves my body.”

Eternity may not truly exist, but if it does, it’s still made up of brief moments: years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. A lifetime may sound like forever, but it is insignificant in comparison to ten thousand years. A lifetime is nothing more than a handful of decades. An eternity has no beginning and no end.

Even so, eternity is measured moment by moment, in small increments, just as a lifetime is.

It’s the moments that really count: it’s the ten minutes that Aoi and Reita stay in bed cuddled up together after hitting the snooze button; it’s the hasty kiss that lasts about as long as a nanosecond when the two of them aren’t alone; it’s the long and lingering kiss that lasts until one or both of them risk passing out from lack of air when they are alone; it’s the hours that they spend at practice, struggling to make everything just right; it’s the minutes spent grumbling and whining when things don’t go exactly according to plan; it’s the hours spent on stage, making their fans smile and cheer.

It’s times like this, too. It’s times like these that really count. Moments when time stands still, just for the two of them.

Aoi doesn’t need an eternity. He doesn’t need forever. He just needs this. This moment.

“I love you too,” he answers without hesitation.



This took ridiculously long to finish, and it’s not like it’s terribly long—just that it wanted to be a pain in the ass and anime distracted me, and yes. ^^; *hides* Funny thing is, I had the beginning and the end written for a while, and then I couldn’t figure out exactly how I wanted the shower sex to go. XD; I was trying to stay true to the lovely picture that I linked to, and aldskjfpawoeitjwpoetj I dunno why it wanted to be so difficult until just the other day, when I had a brilliant burst of inspiration, and I wrote and wrote and wrote, and last night I finished. FINALLY. Hope you all enjoyed it. ^______^ Thank you so much for being patient, and again, I’m very sorry it took forever.
Tags: 10 encounters, aoixreita, reitaxaoi, the gazette

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