Beautiful (Happy Un-Valentine's Day to me...)
15 February 2007
Shuichi x Touma. For Liana Bluestar. Here's your favourite pairing, sweetie.
--
He wasn't coming.
Shuichi growled, jumping up from the thick throw rug upon which he'd been napping, wincing a little as the shiny PVC of his shorts dug into his hip bone.
Scowling, he stalked over to the coffee table and, for pure spite's sake, swept a hand at the candlesticks and sent them flying. Good thing they'd hadn't been lit yet.
He plunked his little hands down on his hips and glared at the feast laid out.
There was honey, strawberries, a bowl of clotted cream, oysters and choice cuts of beef carpaccio. The ice had melted in the ice bucket, the champagne still corked. There was a gigantic cake at the centre of the table, a tall confection of four kinds of chocolate, strawberries and fluffy cream. At the edge of the table, a tub of flavoured lubricant sat mockingly and Shuichi's eyes narrowed at it. Snatching it up, the singer turned and pitched it full force out the living room door to the hallway.
"Ow!" There was an unpleasant thump as the tub made impact upon flesh.
Shuichi started, eyes widening. "Eiri?"
"Er, no," Touma walked in, rubbing his tummy where the tub had hit him, clutching the projectile in his other hand.
"Argh!" Shuichi turned and snatched up the lovely cake, intending to pitch it at the fancy French doors of the balcony… but the cake was snatched away. Turning, Shu held out his hands, "Give it!"
"No!" Touma harshly replied in the same impetuous tone the singer had just used.
"It's mine!" Shuichi snarled, furious.
"I don't give a shit if it is," snapped the synth-master, using uncharacteristic bad language. He was still holding the cake out of Shu's reach. "It's too pretty to waste on a window, or even my stupid former brother in law."
"Shut up!"
"No."
Clenching his hands, Shuichi glared as hard as he could.
He wanted to remain angry, wanted to be frustrated. It would mean that Eiri still mattered, that he still cared for that bastard of a writer. But his vision blurred, and then he wanted to be angry with himself for giving up. His sadness only meant that…
It was really over.
Even when the tears began to slide silently down his cheeks, Shuichi refused to sob, refused to cry. He just let the tears fall, keeping his face scowled, glaring as hard as he could at his stubborn superior… who had paid him more attention than the writer ever had.
He refused to say a word.
"He's not coming, Shuichi." Touma put the cake back down at the centre of the table, pausing to step back and admire the bounty. "He never did and never will."
Shu bit his lip. He was sad. Sad and hurt, but not angry… nor in pain; how long had it been since he'd been forced to distance himself to keep from hurting over all the shit Eiri so often caused him? Since when had he distanced himself so far that… he couldn't love the writer anymore?
"I'm sorry," Touma whispered, eyes worried, "I know you've always wanted him… more than me."
Shuichi let his scowl fade, and he even let his shoulders droop. It hurt too much to fight to keep his expression and posture, as well as the strength to not break down right then and there.
Touma took his hand and drew him gently to the kitchen. There, the synth-master cooked some rice and made tea. Bit by bit, Shuichi became aware that he was still wearing the naughty costume he had planned to greet Eiri with and he cringed. The tight little PVC outfit was definitely not sulking material and he was most definitely no longer in the mood.
And certainly not the best attire to be parading in front of his 'guest' with. He hopped off the kitchen stool and, passing through the kitchen to the back room, Shu pulled a button-up shirt and a pair of boxers from the clean laundry hamper. Without shutting the door or really trying to hide himself in the dark nook, he pulled the play outfit off and redressed.
Turning around, his eyes met the heated aquamarine gaze of a very still synth-master.
Blinking, Shuichi stared right back. Eventually, Touma's heated gaze calmed and he backed down, turning to continue with arranging the tea cups and saucers on the tray before bringing everything out to the living room. Shu followed sedately.
Adding the tea and rice to the table, Touma snagged a floor cushion and sat down. The singer, uncharacteristically silent, sat and accepted a bowl and a set of chopsticks.
"Shame to let all these foods go to waste," Touma commented. He watched Shuichi expectantly.
"Itadakimasu," the singer murmured, taking up the lead. This was his house after all.
"Itadakimasu," echoed the synth-master, eyes still watchful.
The taste of the food didn't register later, until Touma had commented on how good it was. Shuichi didn't notice until later that the Carpaccio tasted just as good with white sauce as it did with soy sauce… not until Touma had fed him a bite from his own chopsticks.
Heady with the scent of his guest's cologne, distracted by the quiet, intimate conversation of music and performing, Shu didn't notice when it was they had begun to move closer together. He did not notice when it was that he too had begun to share a few things of his own eating habits…
It didn't matter.
Not anymore. All that mattered was that they were sitting pressed up together from shoulder to hip. Shuichi liked the heat of the synth-master's body, liked to feel the body heat seep through both Touma's soft silk shirt and his own, and warmed him. He was conscious of it, of how hot Touma was, feeling as though he ought to feel… well, cold. But he wasn't.
If anything, it was too hot.
Then he made a mistake. He looked up into Touma eyes as he fed the synth-master a morsel of carpaccio. Up until that moment, he had watched the man's lips, liking the way they moved, seeming softer than he had ever supposed they might be. And now, he was captured.
Unable to tear his eyes away, Shuichi felt his heart rate quicken. Were those his hands setting his bowl down? Touma leaned over, closer, and Shu's vision blurred…
Soft heat captured his lips and Shuichi moaned. Those soft, hot lips parted and drew in the singer's breath, swallowing the soft sound before pressing closer to slip a heavy, wet tongue past Shuichi's heavy lips. So heady was the taste that Shuichi could do nothing but lean further against Touma, vaguely enjoying the feel of the expensive fabric of Touma's clothing skimming over his own skin, opening his mouth further, hesitantly meeting the synth-master's tongue with his own.
Shu startled, then groaned.
For when their tongues had met, fire had shot sharply through his head, prickling across his scalp. The sensations, as they always had, reverberated powerfully through him. Rising onto his knees, the singer pressed closer, letting Touma's strong hands help lift him to guide him over and forward. Straddling the synth-master, Shuichi clung tightly, moaning again at the feel of Touma's prominent arousal pressed against his abdomen. He angled his position and when his own hardness rubbed erotically over Touma's, he sighed with pleasure.
So good…
The world shifted, and Shuichi felt himself being gently laid down on the rug, his floor cushion now his pillow. Touma's nimble fingers undid the buttons of his shirt then sought out a nipple…
Back arching of the floor, Shuichi gasped, feeling his erection throb in reaction and wanting more of the touch. He threaded his hands through Touma's hair, the strands softer than anything he had ever touched before – even Eiri's hair…
Eiri.
Frozen, Shuichi distantly registered Touma's worried voice.
"Eiri," the singer replied softly, when the synth-master asked him what was wrong.
Touma sat up, looking away and Shuichi sighed. This was not the first time this had happened; not the first time things had happened between them, and then Shuichi would remember that writer and things came to a screeching stop.
But it was, however, the first time that Touma did not pull away, instead he pinned Shuichi with his eyes…
"No more Eiri," the synth-master said softly, "Only 'Touma', from now on."
… and Shuichi liked it.
"Say it, Shu." The singer stared, eyes wide, as Touma ordered severely, "Say it."
Swallowing past the tangle in his throat, Shuichi's voice came out lower than he'd intended it to, huskier than he had ever heard his own voice before. "To… Touma…"
"Only Touma," the synth-master prodded.
"Only… Touma…"
Swiftly, the synth-master bent to seize Shuichi's lips in a passionate kiss, his speed matched only by how quickly the singer lifted his arms to receive him. In a tangle, the pace of their lovemaking escalating, fingers seeking more skin sought to get past knots, clasps and zippers. Quickly, yet what seemed to Shu an eternity, he lay bare before Touma for the first time, his embarrassment fading at the sight of Touma's appreciative and humble gaze…
He resisted the urge to squirm as the synth-master's eyes seemed to drink in the sight of him. The heat of a blush climbed across his cheeks, and Shu buried his face in his own shoulder, eyes clenching, hands lifting to cover the colour… but his wrists were captured and he did not fight.
Reverently, Touma caressed his collarbone, harsh breathing blowing across Shu's skin, making the fine hairs of his body stand straight up… making him want to lean up into Touma whose hands were driving him mad with desire. When those clever hands worked their way down to his hips…
"Oh!" Shuichi lifted his arms over his head and clung to the edge of the couch behind and above him. Arching his back, he revelled in the feel of Touma's touch, not noticing his tub of lube had come into play until one of the synth-master's slicked digits pressed deep inside him.
Shuichi bucked his hips as the finger slid lightly over his prostate, trying to relax his muscles to allow for further invasion. He sighed as Touma slid the finger in and out of him slowly, stretching and lubing the way. Tossing his head back, he hissed as a second, slick finger entered him.
The tight feeling of his bottom made his heart pressure rise hotly, and his cock twitched excitedly. His hands hurt, clutching at the leather couch as hard as he was but he refused to let go, afraid that if he did, he would grab at Touma's hair and hurt him.
The synth-master's free hand teased his nipples, ghosted over his chest before sliding down his stomach and just brushing against his hardness before stroking his sac beneath. With a moan, Shuichi arched into the touch, wanting yet more.
Carefully, Touma pressed another slicked finger into him and, driving deeper than ever into Shuichi, made the singer gasp hoarsely. Parting his legs further, Shuichi groaned when the fingers pressed inside him where it made a supernova ignite…
"Touma!" Shuichi shouted, dangerously close to orgasm, the fire of sensations raking through him.
"Beautiful…" the synth-master murmured, pulling his fingers free.
"Please," Shuichi pleaded, panting, having forced his eyes open to beg even with his gaze. He watched as the synth-master reached for more lube and slowly, tantalizingly, slicked himself up. "Inside me…"
"Up," Touma said, helping Shuichi move up onto the couch. Again, the singer reached up over his head to find purchase for his hands.
Touma pulled a cushion over and under his knees, then slid his arms under the singer's knees, hoisting them up so Shuichi was completely spread before him. Taking his arousal in one hand, he guided himself to Shu's entrance and pressed but half the head inside.
Thrashing, Shuichi tried to slide down and onto Touma's hardness but the synth-master gripped his hips with both hands and held him still. Moaning, Shuichi tried not to squirm. With both of Touma's hands on his hips, if he moved too much then that hardness he wanted inside him, which was poised tantalizingly just at his entrance, might be dislodged.
On a strangled moan, he begged shamelessly, "Touma…"
"Shuichi," the synth-master whispered back before giving a shallow, measured thrust.
Arching, Shu cried, "Please!"
Another thrust, deeper this time, but pulling back a moment later. Measured and careful, Touma pressed only marginally deeper with each slow thrust, driving poor Shuichi closer and closer to madness with need.
Gods! So good… Shuichi couldn't really think. All he knew was that he wanted this. He wanted Touma inside him, wanted this to continue… wanted the synth-master to quit with the gentleness and just fuck him hard and fast. Hard and fast like…
"Touma…" Shuichi whispered the name carefully and the synth-master paused, almost completely buried inside him.
Forcing his eyes to meet the hard aquamarine gaze, Shuichi looked at his lover, really looked at him. With a kind of reverence, he reached over slowly with one hand and cupped the synth-master's cheek.
"Touma," Shu repeated firmly a small smile slipping across his face. Eyes widening, recognising the importance of the moment, Touma's eyes widened a little with shock.
Shuichi's smile bloomed fully, an expression of happiness. He traced Touma's bottom lip with his thumb, remembering the kisses that mouth had given him, the soft words they had spoken. He closed his hand on the synth-master's shoulder and slowly undulated his hips, flexing against the poised hardness inside himself. He relished this gentle touch, this careful treatment that he had never received from any lover because before, there had only ever been Eiri.
"Shuichi," Touma whispered, bending close and pressing a soft kiss to the singer's mouth, "Thank you."
Heart swelling, Shu undulated again, driving Touma's impossibly hard erection deeper into himself. This time, Touma gasped, eyes clenching as his forehead dropped onto Shu's shoulder; so close to losing control. Well, the singer realised, slow was all good and well when you started but right now… he moaned as he undulated one more time, back arching, hands seeking, pulling all the stops to get his lover to break…
Suddenly, Touma groaned then hissed, composure lost, before rearing back only to pound forward, thrusting so deeply that Shuichi screamed. He drove himself deeply into Shuichi, who arched right back against him, receiving each thrust. Madly, sweating and panting, they made passionate love.
Shuichi couldn't help himself, his senses on fiery overload and he screamed his lover's name as he climaxed, arching his back off the couch and wrapping his arms tightly around Touma's shoulders.
"Shu!" Touma shouted, voice breaking.
The singer felt Touma stiffen, the synth-master's own completion attained, and enjoyed the feel of those strong slender arms wrapping just as tightly around him.
With a gasp, they collapsed together. Panting, Shuichi reached up and cradled Touma's face in his hands. He watched the synth-master force lazy eyes open and meet his gaze, noticing a sparkle of happiness in Touma's eyes he had never seen before. Never had he seen anything quite like it, ever. Not on anyone he had ever known.
It awed him.
"Your eyes," Shu gasped, still breathless.
"Happy," Touma panted, smiling with what looked like… joy.
Shuichi furrowed his brows. Then, that would mean it was… he who had caused Touma's happiness. He felt… astonishingly pleased with himself. He didn't know when he had ever made anyone this happy before.
Nor did he recall when he last felt quite as happy as he did right then. Well, with the exception of being on stage, that is. He felt like his heart was dancing. And in his head, his music whispered a soft and peaceful melody.
"It's…" Sighing, Shuichi smiled back and whispered, "Beautiful."