So I've been reading a lot of yaoi on a different site lately. They're not fanfiction, most of them written by male authors. It's really fascinating, partly because they're so different and so much more...I dunno, raw? I don't want to say crude because it's not, even though the language is more descriptive and probably leagues more anatomically accurate.
Anyway, I was inspired after reading them, and now I'm itching to write. This is a new multi-chapter, though won't be very long. Progress might be a little slow but I hope you guys will find it interesting. :)
"Aw, shit!"
Startled by the sound of the doorbell, Ichigo jerked in his seat, his right knee smashing into the desk and knocking over his inkwell. He could only stare, aghast, at the spreading pool of black ink as it seeped into his drawing.
"Fuck!"
"Yes! I thought you'd never ask!"
"Shinji…" Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose.
His best friend, Hirako Shinji, stood at the door to his study, one hand on his hip and a wide grin on his face. Ichigo groaned when he saw Shinji's outfit. Bright yellow button-down shirt, pink checkered tie, and purple skinny jeans; Shinji was as flamboyant as they came and was not afraid to flaunt it.
"Come on, Ichi, why are you still in your pajamas?" Shinji complained, wagging his finger. "We were supposed to be at the club," he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes ago!"
Ichigo rubbed his face. Of course, it was Friday night. He had completely forgotten, lost in his fantasy world of ancient Japanese swordsmen and their sexy escapades. A talented artist, Ichigo was an amateur mangaka with a dozen or so yaoi doujinshi under his belt. His dream was to have his work picked up by a publishing house and finally earning money for his hard work. As it was, he was barely making ends meet. Bar hopping through the night was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he would never hear the end of it if he bailed.
"Ichi…"
Grumbling under his breath, Ichigo grudgingly got up to get dressed. So what if he was still in his pajamas? It wasn't as if he had to see anybody during the day.
Half an hour later, they were finally lining up to enter Riot, the busiest dance club in town. It wasn't officially a gay bar, but Ichigo knew it was a popular place to pick up your next trick. He had done it once or twice, only because he was frustrated with artist's block and was desperate for an outlet. Hooking up with random men wasn't exactly his idea of a healthy hobby.
He was sweating by the time they got in, and the noise and heady smell of the place immediately hit him like a punch in the gut. Everywhere he looked, there were people gyrating to the god awful techno music.
Carefully dodging the other sweaty bodies around them, the two of them made their way to the bar. Renji and Shuuhei were already there and looked about half way through their second round of drinks.
"Thought you weren't going to show up!" Renji yelled over the music as Ichigo hopped onto a stool beside him.
Shinji rolled his eyes. "I had to tear his sorry ass from his precious drawings or he'd never come."
Ichigo ignored them both. He was used to it by now. His friends were always complaining that he was becoming a recluse at the ripe old age of twenty two. Instead, he turned and surveyed the sea of people on the dance floor with a critical eye.
It was a typical Friday night. The club was packed full of young people, mostly guys. More than a few looked two steps away from fucking, the way they were grinding against each other. After a moment Ichigo looked away, not finding anyone particularly interesting.
Shit. This was going to be a long night.
Some time between his third and fourth beer, Ichigo allowed himself to be dragged out to join the crowd. He paired off with Shinji, as usual, and let the music carry him away.
He was laughing at Shinji's silly antics when he accidentally bumped into someone behind him. Jerking away, he turned around to apologize...and promptly froze.
Right in front of him was the most perfect specimen of manhood he had ever seen. The man was taller than Ichigo, his leather jacket snug around wide shoulders and a well defined chest. Wavy black hair, styled in a rugged bedhead, framed an angular face. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, full lips, and most of all, those piercing blue eyes...Ichigo couldn't look away if his life depended on it.
The spell was broken when the man smirked. Blinking, Ichigo blushed in embarrassment.
"Sorry," he managed to croak.
"No problem," the stranger drawled, his voice low and a little raspy.
Ichigo shuddered. That voice...shit, it had gone straight from his ears to his cock, apparently.
His reaction didn't go unnoticed. The man chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that made Ichigo's skin break out in goosebumps. In a good way. Or not. He was so embarrassed he wanted the floor to swallow him up. Anything to save him from this disaster. It was just his luck; he'd finally found someone he wouldn't mind hooking up with, and here he was acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl.
Determined to redeem himself, Ichigo flashed the stranger a smile. "Wanna dance?"
The man hesitated for a second, then grinned. He moved closer to Ichigo, close enough for their hands to brush against each other. Shinji gave Ichigo a thumbs up and a wink, and went off to find a new partner.
It was a little awkward at first, their moves out of sync as they danced, but soon enough they were pressed up against each other. The man had his knee comfortably tucked between Ichigo's legs, his crotch nudging Ichigo's hip to the beat of the music. Ichigo bit back a moan when he felt the sizable bulge against his hip bone. He was hard as a rock, too, and it was becoming impossible to focus on anything but the need burning in his gut.
"Wanna get out of here?" It was as if the man could read his mind.
Not bothering to try to yell over the music, Ichigo nodded.
It was a relief when they finally squeezed their way through the crowd and out into fresh air. Ichigo sucked in a deep breath with a gasp and laughed when his dance partner did the same. The man grinned back and draped an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, pulling him close.
"So…" Ichigo began, blushing again and suddenly feeling a little self conscious under the glare of the streetlights. He was acutely aware of the man's warmth and intoxicating scent, and it made his cock throb longingly.
"Your place," the stranger purred in his ear.
Ichigo shivered as a puff of warm, moist breath fanned across his cheek. It smelled faintly of cigarette and mint, a combination that, oddly, only turned him on more. He nodded.
The Uber driver gave Ichigo a knowing smile and a wink when he dropped them off. Normally, this would've made Ichigo mortified, but he was too distracted to do anything but smile back stupidly.
The entire ride back to his apartment was torture. They sat hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Any closer and Ichigo would be sitting in the guy's lap. Yet they were too aware of their audience to do anything frisky. The sexual tension was so thick that Ichigo was certain their driver could taste it.
It felt like forever before the elevator arrived. The moment the doors slid closed, the man pounced. Pushed harshly against the wall, Ichigo gasped in surprise, then let out a startled moan when a pair of hot and eager lips descended on his. And oh god, could this guy kiss. He took advantage of Ichigo's parted lips and his tongue delved expertly inside, sliding against Ichigo's, teasing him and pushing him until Ichigo melted into his arms. Rough hands tugged at Ichigo's shirt until they popped out the waistband of his jeans, then those hands were scrambling across his bare skin, struggling to slip past his waistband. Ichigo let out a curse; it was too tight. He was wearing his favorite pair of skinny jeans and there was no way anything thicker than a piece of paper was going to fit in there.
The man let out a frustrated growl, then gave up and promptly went to the front and tried to undo his fly. Ichigo laughed giddily, amused by the other man's urgency.
And just then, the elevator doors slid open with a whoosh. They stared dumbly at it for a few seconds, the sound interrupting their haze of lust, then Ichigo came to his senses and grabbed the man's hand.
"Come," Ichigo urged with a laugh.
They half ran, half stumbled down the hallway. Ichigo fumbled with the lock, then they spilled inside, their limbs in a tangle. The door closed with a bang and Ichigo found himself pressed up against the wall again. He moaned helplessly into the man's mouth before he could stop himself. He had never been kissed so thoroughly, so passionately, in his life, and never imagined he would experience this with a one-night stand. He felt a brief tug of disappointment. He could get used to this, but who was he kidding? This time tomorrow they would've parted ways and most likely never see each other again.
"You're so hot…" the man purred, breaking their kiss to nibble on Ichigo's earlobe.
"Ichigo," Ichigo gasped.
A low chuckle, then the lips were sliding down his neck. "You're so hot, Ichigo…"
Ichigo shivered. Damn! That voice. The man could be reading off a grocery list and Ichigo would still get hard. "So are you," he said breathlessly.
For a moment, Ichigo thought his would-be bedmate would not offer a name, then the man murmured, "Greg."
"Well, Greg," Ichigo pushed the man off and led the way to his bedroom, curling a finger in the universal "come and get me" sign. "I think we should take this somewhere more...comfortable, don't you think?"
Greg grinned, and followed.
They crashed into the bed, both eager to get back in action. Ichigo landed on his back and was immediately pinned by Greg, the man's larger, heavier, frame a comfortable weight on top of him. They stared at each other, noting their matching flushed faces and lust-glazed eyes, and then it was as if a switch was flipped. They sprang apart and started undressing. Ichigo tossed his shirt over Greg's head, then cursed as he struggled out of his too-tight jeans. Once that was out of the way, he lunged across the bed to his bedside table and grabbed his handy bottle of lube and a condom.
Then his eyes laid on Greg and he stopped, his mouth hanging open. The man was gorgeous; smooth, flawless tanned skin over toned pecs and a well defined six-pack. His biceps, flexing as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, were strong and beautifully muscled. He wasn't going to win any bodybuilding contests but he was ripped enough to showcase hours and hours of hard work at the gym. Ichigo wasn't flabby by any means, but he was more lanky and narrower overall. He got his physique from swimming and martial arts, not the weight room.
"Like what you see?" Greg husked, a note of amusement in his voice. He was completely naked now, and he was looking at Ichigo much like the way Ichigo had been feasting on him. Once again Ichigo was struck by Greg's piercing gaze; his eyes shockingly blue even in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
Ichigo blushed, but he was horny enough to overcome his shyness. "Yes," he growled, slowly stalking towards Greg on all fours. "Yes," he grabbed the back of Greg's head and crushed their lips together. "I like it very much."
Greg let out a deep, rumbling groan and tore his mouth away. He started attacking Ichigo's neck, collarbone, then, with a hard shove, pushed Ichigo onto his back once more. He towered over Ichigo and leered at him.
"Oh yeah? Well, I like this," Greg traced his fingers around Ichigo's nipples, wrenching a startled hiss from him. "And this," those fingers moved southward, tickling Ichigo's flat stomach, dipping into his belly button, then came to a stop just shy of his aching cock. "And definitely...this."
"Shit!" Ichigo cried out when a hot, wet mouth closed over his dick. He felt Greg grin around it, then the man started sucking, hollowing his cheeks then using his tongue to tease the throbbing vein on the underside of it. Ichigo moaned, arching his back. This was perfect, oh god, Greg was good and was clearly enjoying this just as much. Lewd slurping noises filled Ichigo's ears, and he could feel the bed shaking and realized that Greg was jacking himself off.
"Ohhh...oh fuck, fuck!" Ichigo writhed, vaguely aware that he was thrusting into Greg's mouth. Then all of a sudden the precious heat was gone, and Greg surged upwards. Ichigo tasted himself on the other man's tongue and moaned.
"Soon, babe, soon," Greg purred. And then he was back, his mouth wrapped snugly around Ichigo's cock and working up and down the rigid shaft, leaving Ichigo's cock shiny with his spit.
There was a soft "pop" of a cap's bottle, followed by a lewd squirting sound, then slick, cold fingers nudged at Ichigo's entrance, massaging the sensitive hole and slowly coaxing it open. Ichigo shuddered and lifted his hips, rocking back against Greg's exploring digits. He heard Greg groan, then those fingers slid smoothly inside. His nerves endings lit up as they stretched him open, his muscles fluttering around Greg, and he threw his head back moaned loudly, his voice shaky and thick with desire.
"Yeah, baby," Greg's voice was hoarse. The man was panting, and he was nuzzling Ichigo's cock and flicking his tongue over the head now and then. The whole time his hand never stopped, fucking Ichigo with his fingers, spreading him wide open, getting him loose and ready for the main event.
After a few more minutes of this torture, Ichigo couldn't hold back any longer. He fumbled blindly for the condom and tossed it to Greg. "Need you now," he croaked, shocked and a little embarrassed by how needy he sounded. But he was getting desperate, his body was burning up, and his heart pounded like it wanted to burst out his chest.
He watched as Greg expertly rolled on the condom. The man's cock was gorgeous, just like every other inch of him. The lubed latex sheath glistened, stretched to its max around the impressive member. It was magnificent, probably the biggest Ichigo had ever taken so far, and the sight of it so hard for him made his blood boil with anticipation. Greg got into position, his knees nudging Ichigo's thighs apart.
"Ready?" Greg asked, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide with lust.
Ichigo nodded and lifted his hips. He felt the thick, blunt head slide between his ass cheeks, Greg dragging it teasingly up and down Ichigo's crack. He drizzled more lube over his cock and smeared it around Ichigo's relaxed hole, then, he pushed.
They let out matching moans as he slid inside slowly. Ichigo's legs trembled. Even as prepared as he was, it burned, and he gasped and gripped Greg's biceps.
"Oh shit, you're so tight, baby," Greg groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. He rocked his hips, going deeper with every thrust, until their bodies were finally pressed flush against each other. A small bead of sweat trailed down from his temple, and Ichigo watched it slide slowly down Greg's jawline to drip onto his chest. Ichigo cursed at the injustice; how could this man make sweating look so sexy?
And it wasn't just sweating, of course. Everything he was doing now was driving Ichigo crazy. This was insane; he was so hard that it fucking hurt, and he couldn't do anything about it because Greg had pinned his arms to the bed, stretched above his head. Ichigo bucked, arching his back, pushing his cock into Greg's belly in search for friction. Tears of frustration threatened to spill.
Greg was really pounding into him by now, his cock pistoning in and out of Ichigo, hard and fast and pushing Ichigo closer and closer towards the edge. Ichigo howled as thrust after thrust battered his prostate. Blood roared in his ears, blocking out Greg's cries. Then his cock was suddenly enveloped in a scorching hot fist, and it started pumping up and down his swollen length, the friction so sweet, so perfect, exactly what Ichigo needed and craved. He felt his orgasm build, welling from deep inside him and blazing through his body in waves, all the way to the tip of his fingers and toes and spilling out of him in a rush. He gasped, his body trembling as the pleasure ran its course.
Greg groaned in his ear. The man's breath was hot and fast against Ichigo's neck and he could feel Greg's dick start to swell inside him, then with a shout, the man went rigid, his hips jerking as he filled the condom.
The room went quiet, their earlier cries of passion replaced with soft pants as the two of them recovered their breaths. Ichigo felt faint, partly from what was the best orgasm of his life yet, and partly from being crushed beneath Greg. He nudged at the man's arm until Greg finally rolled off of him.
"Damn," Greg muttered with a laugh. "I think you broke me."
"I broke you?" Ichigo snorted. He shifted a bit and hissed at the satisfying ache in his rear. He was going to feel this for a few days, and he loved it.
They lay in silence for a while. It was comfortable, and as he rested, Ichigo replayed their coupling in his head, filing the memory away to revisit when he needed new material for his manga. Shit, why couldn't he pick up someone like Greg all the time? His mind was officially blown.
"Can I stay?"
Ichigo raised an eyebrow in surprise. Now that was a first. His past flings couldn't get out of bed fast enough after fucking him, but it looked like Greg was defying his every expectation.
"Yeah, sure," Ichigo replied. He rolled to his side and watched Greg yawn. He smiled. The man looked adorable with his face all scrunched up.
They settled down and scooted closer to each other. Greg spooned up against Ichigo, his arm a welcome weight around Ichigo's waist. Ichigo found himself smiling. This felt nice. Different. He hadn't cuddled for a long time, not since his first relationship a few years ago. Byakuya was great in bed, but he wasn't much of a cuddler. Ichigo didn't realize how much he enjoyed this.
Behind him, Greg's breathing evened out. Ichigo snuggled deeper into the covers, closed his eyes, and let sleep pull him under.
Ichigo woke up to the sound of the shower running. He blinked, rolling over and immediately wincing when his ass protested. Then he remembered the previous night and grinned.
Since Greg was already up, Ichigo figured he might as well get out of bed. It was too bad; he would've loved to take care of his raging morning wood with Greg.
Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Ichigo padded into the kitchen to make coffee. He was going to need it. They had woken up some time during the night. Sleepy sex had never felt that good.
As he turned on his Keurig coffee maker, Ichigo absently turned on the TV. It was a habit of his, to have the news channel on while he sipped his first cup of joe.
"...already wanted for the murder of his partner, Detective Grimmjow Jaegerjaques is now believed to be responsible for the murder of local drug dealer Nnoitra Jiruga. Detective Jaegerjaques has been on the run for the past forty eight hours. We urge anyone who've seen this man to please call the number on the screen. Do not approach the suspect as he is armed and dangerous, and I repeat, he is armed and dangerous."
The mug slipped through Ichigo's slack fingers and shattered on the floor. On the screen, the photograph of Detective Jaegerjaques showed a strikingly handsome man in his early thirties. Blue hair, high cheekbones, angular jaw, and a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes.
To be continued