The Yukata Incident
Hello there.
No flames, please. If you don't like slash and lemon, maybe you shouldn't be here...
Disclamer: Noblesse belongs to Son Jae Ho (author) and Lee Gwang Su (artist).
Just having some fun; no offence or disrespect intended.
Enjoy!
I shiver when I hear your name
Think about you but it's not the same
I won't be satisfied 'til I'm under your skin
Maroon 5 – Shiver
M-21 hadn't meant to look; he was simply passing by. It was a moment of weakness, when curiosity overtook common sense. As he stood guiltily there, peeking through the half-closed door, all coherent thoughts left his mind.
Of course Rai bathed; he was eternally spotless. But this...
Glued to the spot, M-21 dared not to even breathe. The only relief he found in this situation was that Frankenstein's house seemed mercifully empty – for the moment, at least. He looked on, only because he could bring himself to do nothing else.
There, in the center of the grand bathroom, behind a lazy veil of steam, stood a very wet Rai. He wasn't naked; no. Then again, M-21 would have been able to look away from nudity – look away, rush out, and never glance back. But this… Somehow, this image was infinitely more sensual, more mesmerizing. He drew a shuddering breath, feeling the blood race through his body.
A yukata. A yukata of pure red silk . And Rai was clearly having trouble with it. Elegant brows creased lightly in dignified annoyance; eyes cast down on the offending fabric; and full lips pouted in regal concentration. In his battle with the deep blue obi, the loose garment itself was neglected. Quietly, blood-coloured silk slipped a few inches down creamy shoulders, exposing just enough to draw a barely-suppressed groan out of the observer.
M-21 thought he might go insane. The part of his mind – the rational part, as it seemed – that screamed in protest had long since been silenced. Numbly, he blinked, as if reassuring of reality.
"M-21."
Suddenly, that soft yet authoritative voice brought him out of reverie. He had been discovered; there was no escaping now. Like the proverbial deer caught in headlights, he awaited whatever punishment was coming, wondering idly if death by Rai's hands would be painful.
Each quiet step on the glossy tiles was torture.
It wasn't long before Rai came uncomfortably close, having now swung the door wide open. M-21 swallowed thickly, still unable to tear his eyes away from the delicious mess in front of him. It was torturous, being this close to such a creature. Now he could see the droplets water travelling from Rai's gleaming black hair onto snowy skin, and then disappearing into the tantalizing depths of red silk.
For some excruciating minutes, no one spoke. The house was eerily silent.
"This sash…" Rai finally said; he glared at the obi, and then looked up at him with a certain expectation.
In a moment of immense relief, it occurred to M-21 that Rai was perhaps asking for help. At once, his muddled brain searched for a suitable reply.
"I…don't know how to tie it, either." He managed, unable to maintain eye-contact as he felt blood rush to his face – and a few other less mentionable areas.
In response, a neat file in a waterproof report cover was handed to him. The title read:
For Master
A Guide to Wearing Men's Yukata
By Frankenstein
Good Luck~ ^^
M-21 might have laughed at the absurdity of it, but he stopped himself. Frankenstein really did think of everything when it concerned his master. Surely, if he was there, M-21 wouldn't have been in this ridiculous situation.
Frankenstein would have dressed Rai impeccably.
For an instant – a tiny, miniscule instant – something inexplicably akin to jealousy flared within M-21.
Like all men equipped common sense, he dismissed the feeling and moved on.
He obliged the unspoken request hesitantly, and was lead into the bathroom.
Once again, M-21 took in the dishevelled folds of fluid red (barely) covering Rai. Sincerely, he hoped that his trousers would not get any tighter.
He cleared his throat, "Maybe we should start from the beginning?"
Rai nodded in acknowledgement, his slender fingers quickly went to undo the tangled knot in the obi.
Rustle, Rustle.
Silk on silk; silk on skin; silk was flowing all over.
The knot held stubbornly. M-21 thought he would lose control. Without a word, he softly brushed off the other pair of hands, and began to untangle the mess of deep blue himself. Rai didn't protest; he was used to being tended to, after all.
The knot still held stubbornly. M-21 pushed back the silver-gray bangs that always fell in his eyes, and got back to work; Rai seemed to have a hidden talent for knot-making. He sighed in frustration, pretending that he didn't see a long, creamy leg through an opening in the folds of red.
No, he definitely did not see a naughty droplet of water trail down the porcelain skin. And he certainly didn't want to follow said droplet with his tongue.
When the steam had dissipated, M-21's moment of triumph was near. The obi would come loose with one more little tug. And then those red, red folds of silk would open –
Suddenly, his hands were slapped away (albeit gently) and only then did M-21 think to look up from his blue nemesis.
He was stunned.
It was subtle, yet unmistakable – a tint of red on Rai's cheeks.
Some unknown courage possessed M-21 to lean in closer, to see that rare, flustered expression better. This wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence. He had to. He simply had to examine the long eyelashes which trembled with some unknown emotion, the ruby eyes that now looked at anything but him, and the soft bottom lip being worried by pearly white teeth.
What did this mean?
Rai began to push him away, but he easily, almost instinctively slipped an arm around that waist...
They were close to each other now. Perilously, sensuously, deliciously close.
Rai couldn't push the man away. No, he could. He could put distance between M-21 and himself with various, painful methods. But he didn't. He didn't want to, and the notion made him indignant.
He was nobility, after all.
Such thoughts were silenced quickly. That powerful hand on his lower back pressed their bodies together, so that there was nothing between them but fabrics. At that moment, Rai began to hate the simple black suit that M-21 wore so handsomely as a security guard. He felt pleasantly warmed by the man's body heat. The contact was delightful; he couldn't think.
And then there was that thing hardening against his lower abdomen...
"So," M-21 murmured softly, seductively. His hot mouth was hovering near the cross that dangled from Rai's left ear, "the fact that I'm not dead right now..."
He trailed off, looking at Rai with feline eyes that were a wicked, smouldering gray. Rai's breathing became slightly erratic. This man was oozing lethal doses of sex appeal, and he hadn't even undressed.
Yet.
Just then, there wasn't even room for breathing anymore; they had caught on fire.
Who kissed whom? Neither cared to find out; they were already much too busy tasting, devouring each other.
Rai didn't think that, in his long life, he could have wanted anyone so much.
M-21 was far beyond thinking.
After forever and a minute, they parted with reluctance, short of breath.
There was no going back now.
"The fact that I'm not dead right now," M-21 began anew, electricity buzzing through his body, "means that this is... alright?"
A soft sigh escaped Rai's now-swollen lips; he'd never been one for much talking. One long, slender arm wound around M-21's neck, the hand toying lazily with his silver-gray hair, making him tense. The other hand rose too; a curious finger traced the long, thin scar which cut through his lips vertically.
"I suppose." Rai spoke softly, barely audible.
But M-21 had heard, and that was all he needed.
Another kiss, reassured, fervent with need. Hands, hands. There were hands roaming and sliding and rubbing and kneading. Everywhere.
God, oh God.
Feeling his jacket being undone, M-21 shrugged out of it. His skinny black tie was the next to go. And then a cold rush of air assaulted his skin as his white linen shirt was torn off. The buttons hit the floor like raindrops. Frankenstein would have a fit later, he mused. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care, because now those cool, smooth hands were exploring his bare skin.
He withdrew from the hypnotic kiss, earning a look of annoyance, and began to pay attention to Rai's bare neck and shoulders. He ravaged the smooth flesh relentlessly; kissing, sucking, nibbling, biting, leaving love-marks all over. Rai was clearly not a vocal lover. There were little sighs and shudders, and M-21 wondered how he could change them into moans and screams. His hands travelled languidly, sensually down that silk-covered back, pausing at the waist to tease the loosened obi, and then cupped those criminally tempting mounds of flesh. Hearing a sharp in-take of breath, he smirked. Without so much as a warning, strong arms lifted his partner up, so that, by instinct, Rai wrapped those long, creamy legs around his waist. M-21 growled playfully at the feeling of being gripped by strong, delectable thighs.
Sensory overload. Half-hardened members rubbed together, creating mouth-watering friction. M-21 heard that first, glorious moan.
They were grinding now, their rhythm painfully, erotically slow. The torture was oh-so-sweet.
How long had it been since either of them felt so alive?
"Now." Rai gasped.
Obligingly, M-21 moved about the bathroom until his lover's back was pressed against the smooth wall. He looked into the beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling some connection that he refused to believe was more than lust.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
God, yes.
The nearly incoherent exchange ended with a kiss. M-21 unwound Rai's legs, letting him stand. From a nearby shelf, he grabbed a bottle of lotion and coated his fingers. A hand, the palm lightly calloused, snuck into the secret folds of silken red, and found the entrance.
One finger intruded, and then another. In and out. Deeper, deeper, until M-21 struck the right chord. He felt the lithe body arch deliciously into him, and heard the cry of pleasure like a siren's call.
That voice. That damned voice.
"Now." The Noblesse insisted again, hands fumbling with M-21's belt.
He watched as Rai opened his black dress pants and then pulled down the front his boxer briefs, the yukata becoming less and less decent on the supple frame. M-21, with his straining length freed, lifted his partner by the buttocks once again.
"Deep breath," He uttered softly, more affectionate than he intended to be.
As he felt those now-familiar legs wind around his middle, he lowered Rai onto his shaft.
"Ahh..."
So good, so hot, so tight, so perfect.
Oh, fuck.
Hips and thighs were rolling, gyrating.
Blinding pleasure overtook them in crashing waves, drowning them.
"Ohhh..."
Being penetrated from this angle…Rai dragged his nails down that strong back just for the intensity of it. He heard M-21 rumble appreciatively, and the thrusting became slower, smoother, longer. Rai barely stopped himself from positively mewling; he was clearly being teased, and he could do nothing about it.
Or maybe there was something...
Two devious hands entangled within silver-gray strands, tugging roughly. M-21 let out a shaky breath, but his languid rhythm persisted. Next, a mouth, trembling with pleasure, made its way to the side of his neck, tasting the lightly tanned skin. M-21's lustful groan in response was just about the most appealing sound Rai had ever heard. Still, that sinfully deliberate pace did not speed up. What was the man waiting for? His quivering, swollen lips made their way to the man's right ear.
"M-21..." He called out, lacing the name with moans.
That did it.
Now, more than ever, M-21 wished that he knew his real name. He wanted to hear that alluring voice call it out. Over and over.
There were no restraints now. Deeper, faster, harder the thrusts became, striking that spot every time. The sex was wild, animalistic, and more than heavenly. The walls shook with the sheer force of their passion as they both neared completion.
"Ye-essss..."
The feeling of orgasm was beyond description. Rai felt it with hip-shuddering, toe-curling impact, spilling onto the both of them. More importantly, he screamed – he never screamed. It drove M-21 near insanity; he plunged repeatedly into his lover until he reached his own mind-boggling climax.
In the afterglow, they leaned against the wall, breathless.
Finally, M-21 regained some semblance of composure.
"The silk is ruined," he murmured tenderly, albeit regrettably, nestling against the pale skin.
"There are more," Rai was rather dismissive, "from Frankenstein's time in Japan."
A low, seductive chuckle, "Really?"
In the evening, Seira and Regis returned from grocery shopping, and Frankenstein came from his laboratory with Takeo and Tao. They found Rai sitting elegantly in the living room, dressed in a pale blue yukata. The snowy white obi was neatly done, and as usual, he was sipping tea. Some distance away, M-21, in a V-neck sweater, was reading.
"Ah, Master," Frankenstein smiled easily, gesturing to the garment, "good job."
M-21 smirked into his book.
"You chose this blue one, after all." The blond man commented, "I thought you preferred the red."
The delicate porcelain teacup slipped from Rai's hand, shattering against the floor.
"…Master?"
M-21 tried his hardest to stifle the oncoming laughter.
Fin.
Wow, my first post...and it's PWP.
I've never written lemon before; it was quite an experience.
Hope you enjoyed it, though.
Please review and tell me what you think. :D