Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid. Hell, I don't even own a copy of the software
A Word About Warnings: There's no good way to write out the whole list of warnings. There will be lots. So, I'm going to take it on a chapter-by-chapter basis, so you actually know what's coming when.
Why so many warnings? This story's going to be rather explicitly into BDSM, with the guys having a lot of varied fun in the bedroom. You can imagine what a list of that would look like, particularly since I'm not even sure what they're going to get up to. The rating will move up to M, though, and sooner rather than later.
As for this chapter: language, sex references.
(Don't forget, authors live on reviews, constructive ones in particular.)
For the first time since five A.M., Kaito finally began to relax.
He lay flopped on his stomach, head buried in the couch cushion. He'd kept the T.V. off, all the better to hear the blessed silence of the room. Tension slowly melted out of his muscles, leaving him draped limply over the furniture.
A few minutes of that, and Kaito had mustered all the energy he could. He was going to put it to good use.
Any apartment in this city was going to be small, and maybe there were disadvantages to this. But just then, with the kitchen just a few feet from the living room, he felt rather lucky.
The kitchen was a little square off the living room, always lit with warm sunlight from the southern windows. Kaito reveled at the warm tiles under his bare feet.
However, the most important part was the fridge. Or, rather, the freezer attached to that. Kaito opened the door and ducked his head inside. His roommate would always complain about the space it was taking up, but yes, three cartons of ice cream – minimum – were needed to run the household. He snatched up one of the three, a chocolate one, and let the freezer door swing shut.
As he grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer, his tie flopped down and across the counter. He could feel the silk knot slipping from around his neck, and fixing it was almost ingrained. He paused with one hand grasped around the knot.
After a moment's thought, he tugged it loose, letting the length of blue silk practically fall into the silverware drawer.
Of course, he ended up folding it carefully, a kind of compromise, before grabbing his spoon and hurrying back to the couch. Once sprawled safely there again, he was free to attack his ice cream with the abandon it deserved.
The afternoon was warm, and the ice cream pleasantly cool. The sound of distant traffic echoed up from three stories below, almost soothing. Kaito didn't know how many minutes passed like that, and he didn't much care.
Presently, though, he heard the soft snick of a key entering the lock on the front door. "It's open," he called, his own voice startlingly loud. He regretted it the instant he spoke; he knew exactly who was there.
No response. Just the sound of a key being removed and the handle of a door jiggling.
The door swung wide, and Kaito's roommate walked in, while Kaito studiously avoided his eyes. He'd screwed up badly; why couldn't he have just taken the ice cream into his room?
Gakupo's hair swung in a curtain over his eyes, hiding his expression from even Kaito's boldest glances. In his arms, he carried a couple of what appeared to be grocery bags, and these he took to the kitchen.
Kaito's stomach churned with each echoing of Gakupo's steps. The spoonful of ice cream in his hand was melting off and falling back into the carton with thick plops. He didn't feel much like eating, not anymore.
He could always slink back to his room. Gakupo would have known what he'd done, of course, and why he'd done it. In fact, the man would probably give him all the space he wanted. But even as he willed himself off the couch, Kaito just couldn't do it.
"Something the matter?" Gakupo's smooth, soft voice forced Kaito's blush.
"N-no. Just... Ice cream." Kaito gulped audibly and stared down at the carton, even as he heard Gakupo sweep by, scoop up the remote, and toss himself into an armchair.
And then he laughed, a soft chuckle that brought a pleasant shiver to Kaito's spine. "Yeah. I got you another peppermint, I thought you were out."
Kaito nodded and looked up for the first time. Gakupo was watching him carefully, one eyebrow delicately raised. And that – the tight silence between them, the burning of Gakupo's gaze – that brought the memories flooding back...
'Twenty-four years old, and never seen one of these," Gakupo purred. He flicked the remote, and the ring laying in Kaito's palm first jittered and then vibrated against his hand. Like a small jolt of electricity, those sensations ran through him again, all heat and abandon. Someone moaned softly, and Kaito promised himself that it wasn't him.
Gakupo stepped closer, close enough to whisper in his ear, "Tell me where you think it goes."
And then Kaito couldn't ignore it any longer – the friction of his jeans, the heat he could feel rolling off Gakupo's skin. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and licked his lips. "How... how about you show me?"
Gakupo's elevated eyebrow dropped as he returned his attention to the remote. The fanfare announcing the evening news flooded the room. "Kaito, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine." Kaito cracked a smile then, though it felt unnatural. "Probably too much ice cream." He scrambled off the couch, previous lethargy forgotten.
"Oh, good," Gakupo grinned. "I thought you were upset about me fucking you last night."
Kaito froze and choked on air.