[team four] Ravage

[snow.livejournal.com]

Mimi: "What should I write for shiritori?"
Jojo: "KENTO'S PANTS"
Mimi: "NO"
Jojo: "YES"

& that is how this fic came to be.


Better not let anyone notice you staring, Fuma thinks to himself, and balls his hands into fists in his pockets as he watches Kento dance - more accurately, watches Kento's hips and ass dance. He curses under his breath. He had teased Kento about those pants when he had first seen them - what are you going to do, paint those on? - but, as it turned out, the joke was on him, because Kento is driving him crazy, that bastard, and all he's doing is rehearsing. Fuma knows he's probably going to step it up for concert performances and makes plans to never, ever watch those performances in the company of other people.

"Fuma-kun?"

He looks up to find Shori standing before him, the strangest expression on his face.

"Hm?" Fuma grunts, and he's amazed that he manages to make any sound at all.

"Kento is finished, so..."

Fuma hoists himself to his feet, grateful his pants are loose, and meets Shori's gaze. Shori is staring up at him almost defiantly and Fuma raises an eyebrow. He wonders what the hell that's about.

"I forgot something in the dressing room, so you go ahead."

And with that he stalks off, trying to ignore the feeling of Shori's eyes boring into his back.

---

When Fuma reaches the dressing room, Kento turns around to see him and looks up in surprise. His hair is still damp with sweat, framing his face oddly after being trapped under a hat, and he's already divested himself of his shirt and jacket, but the pants - the fucking pants - are still clinging obscenely to the curves of his body.

"Fuma? Weren't you--"

"Shut up," Fuma replies, crossing the room in long strides to grab Kento's face in both hands and kiss him, taste him. Kento whimpers and wraps his arms around Fuma's neck, pressing their bodies together. Fuma grabs his hips and pulls him forward, rocks against him so that there can be no mistaking his intentions, and Kento moans deep in his throat, low and delicious.

"Lock the door," he pants, his only protest, and Fuma is happy to oblige him.

"You think it's funny, huh?" Fuma asks as he makes his way back, his voice rough with arousal. "Teasing me..."

"It's not teasing," Kento replies, but the tone of his voice tells Fuma that he knows exactly what it really is. "It's dancing."

"Teasing," Fuma insists, and turns Kento around, pushing him forward so that he's all but bent over the couch. "Teasing, and I'll show you what happens to people who tease me."

"I'd better be the only one you show this t-- ahh--"

Kento doesn't expect Fuma's hand to find its way between his legs, cupping him in one hand and squeezing gently.

"You were saying?" Fuma noses the back of Kento's ear and smiles, kissing a slow line down the back of his neck and over his shoulder. Kento is sweating again and Fuma momentarily thinks of how convenient it is that he hasn't showered yet. They'll both be needing one now, won't they...

"You're evil." Kento throws his head back on Fuma's shoulder and Fuma kisses him, satisfied with this response. "You have stuff? Demon."

"I have stuff any time I might be alone with you."

"Pervert."

"You love it," Fuma replies, nonchalantly squeezing Kento once again and wrapping an arm securely around Kento's waist when he feels his knees shake.

"Only if it's you," Kento pants, and Fuma knows he has him.

"Good."

Fuma reaches around Kento's body, feeling blindly for the fastener of his pants, and with some effort, tugs them down to his ankles. There's something incredibly hot about this, Fuma thinks, Kento naked with his pants pooled at his feet, draped over the sofa with his ass right there, and all Fuma needs to do is draw out his cock, take him while still fully clothed...

"Fuma," Kento whines, and Fuma takes hold of him, thrusts against him and bites back a moan when Kento pushes back and squirms against his cock.

"Impatient."

But if Kento is impatient, Fuma's situation is even worse, and he doesn't waste any more time, reaching into his pocket. He finds the small object he's looking for and within a few moments is sliding two slick fingers into Kento's willing body, holding onto him as Kento works himself open on them. Kento whimpers his name and Fuma kisses the top of his head to reassure him.

"My hair is gross," Kento protests, and Fuma rolls his eyes, kissing it again.

"Sex is gross, too. Should we not?"

"Who's the tease now..." Kento laughs, and Fuma slips in another finger, sliding down his own zipper and palming his cock with his free hand. He can't remember the last time he was this hard and it feels good.

"Okay?"

"Okay. It's enough." Kento steadies himself against the couch, gripping the back so tightly that his knuckles appear white. "Do it." He knows how Fuma is when he reaches this point, how hard he fucks, and it's everything he wants at this moment.

Fuma doesn't need to be told twice. He withdraws his fingers and fists his cock, pushing it into Kento slowly and smoothly, his cheek pressed against Kento's so that he can hear every whimper, every hitch in his breath. He knows that this isn't Kento's favorite position - he likes to be able to see Fuma's face, kiss him, hold onto him - so he wants to stay as close as possible, make it as good for him as he can.

Kento nods almost imperceptibly and Fuma begins to move, slowly at first, then more wildly, until all he can hear is the sound of skin against skin coupled with Kento's cries and his own grunts. Fuma runs his hands over Kento's back, so smooth under his fingertips, and lets his touch wander down over the crease of Kento's thigh to take hold of his arousal. Kento absolutely keens and Fuma smiles, using his own momentum to help Kento thrust into his hand.

"You're close," Kento pants, "I can feel it," and Fuma moans out loud at the realization that Kento knows him so well like this that he even knows when he's going to come. Fuma knows Kento's body, too, and shifts a bit, changing his angle slowly until Kento gasps and shudders.

"I can feel you, too," Fuma responds, and fucks him just there until Kento moans unintelligibly and comes into his hand, hard and fast. Fuma doesn't slow down, doesn't stop thrusting into him as Kento's body clenches around his cock, fucks him through it until Kento sags against the couch, chest heaving. Wordlessly, Fuma helps him stagger to the other side of the couch and sits down, stroking his still-hard cock and looking up at Kento expectantly.

Kento looks confused for a moment, then flushes as realization dawns. He climbs onto Fuma's lap, wraps his arms around him and buries his face in Fuma's neck as Fuma slides back into him. Fucked out and overstimulated, Kento can do nothing but brace himself as Fuma thrusts unceasingly. All at once, though, he sits up, his hands exploring Fuma's chest. Fuma looks at him with half-lidded eyes, letting them fall shut again and biting his lip as Kento's thumb catches on a nipple.

"What is it?"

"You're going to come," Kento murmurs. "And I want to watch."

He's right about that; Fuma can't hold back even a second more and grabs hold of Kento's hips as he releases inside him. True to his word, Kento watches every moment of it, stroking Fuma's hair out of his eyes, moving with him, kissing him. Unable to even sit up anymore, Fuma shifts to lie down, pulling Kento with him so that he's lying on his chest.

"This is why they tell us not to practice in our costumes," Fuma says in a teasing voice. "They're in danger of getting messed up."

"I had to make sure I could move in those pants." Kento pouts and Fuma kisses him until he's smiling.

"I think you move better out of those pants."

"If it were up to you, I'd be naked all the time, so your opinion doesn't count."

Fuma rolls his eyes, but he's laughing - it's true. He stretches out on the couch, Kento still tucked securely into his arms, and realizes they're both covered in sweat come, and who knows what else.

"We really need to shower."

"Yeah, like I'm going to fall for that. Anyway, I don't think I can move."

"Want me to carry you?"

"Be careful or I might take you up on that."

Fuma kisses his cheek and nudges him to sit up.

"Come on. I'll wash your hair."


Next up is funkysparks c: