Alright, this is a fic requested by the dear, sweet and lovely Tomomi-Mizuna-Tio. There's not really a lot of forking, but I hope you still enjoy it. And sorry it's taken…what, two weeks? Yeah, sorry about that. Still, hope you like it.
This story is set before either of these two meet Tohru. Why does that matter? Don't know, but that's just the feeling I got while writing it.
Characters belong to their respective owner! I just can't remember her name right now
Edit: A fabulous continuation of this story has been made by Tomomi. You can find it here fanfiction .net/s/5954557/1/Train_Ride
Ayame was pouting. Mine had toddled off to her family's summer home on the other side of the country, leaving him all alone in the middle of a heat wave. He sighed and tilted his fan so that the breeze could whisk his white hair and relieve the muggy heat trapped beneath the heavy tresses. It would be better to tie the whole thing back, but the nearest hair elastics were in the till on the other side of the store. Ayame slouched further in his chair and glanced direly around for a suitable replacement within arms reach and triumphantly turned up a lacey garter.
That distraction out of the way, Ayame sank back into his moodiness. It wasn't that he was angry that Mine was gone, nor was he without anything to do; just that morning he'd had three new custom requests. One was a regular customer, a handsome business man in his thirties that wanted a stewardess dress. The other two were the customary ugly otakus with sparse mustaches that had perused his catalogues and fabric swatches while ravishing him with sidelong glances. Flattering though t may be on a normal day, today it only worsened his mood.
Why couldn't Mine worship him like that? The night before her flight had been all planned out; a romantic dinner, a walk beneath the starlight, then an entire night of costumed goodbye sex. However, due to the blasted heat wave Aya had transformed before they could get to the fun bits and remained in his snake form the entire night, only turning back moments before her taxi arrived.
The grating part of all of this was that she just didn't care! She left, looking cheerful as can be, not at all upset that she'd missed a night of passion with a gorgeous prince. In fact, when he transformed she had giggled! Then she went down to the workshop to finish a costume! Sometimes he felt like she cared about her job more than she cared for him and that was inconceivable.
Ayame picked up his sketch pad, began a doodle of one of the pasty otakus in a sailor uniform he was to design, then threw it to the coffee table with a sound of disgust. He just couldn't lose himself in his work like normal. Curse that Mine! No maid cosplay for her for a week!
The bell chimed to announce the entrance of a customer. Ayame sighed and heaved himself to his feet, grabbing a paper fan as he sauntered into the store.
"Welcome, customer," he said, fanning himself and masking his mood with a pheromone pumping smile.
"Ayame niisan!" Ritsu gulped.
"Ah, Ritchan! This is a surprise! Did you bring another dress for me to alter?" Ayame asked cheerfully. Ritsu blushed and clutched a bundle of blue fabric to his bosom.
"I'm so sorry! I always trouble you with these stupid requests, but you're the only person I feel comfortable asking! I'm so sorry!" Ritsu said, bowing repeatedly.
"Ritchan! I command you to stop this at once!" Ayame ordered, pointing at him with his fan. Startled, Ritsu straightened with a panicked hiccup.
"Now, go into the changing room and put on that dress. I'll be in the back. Hurry, before you become a bother."
"Yes!" Ritsu squeaked and scurried into the back. Ayame followed him and turned in to the workshop where he reclaimed his armchair in front of the fan. Ritsu was in the dress and standing in front of him before Ayame had time to wipe a handkerchief across his glistening forehead. Ayame cast a despairing eye over the dress that sagged across the bust and hip and sighed.
"Ritchan, how many times must I tell you? If you need a fitted dress I will make one for you," Ayame scolded. Ritsu blushed and pinched his eyes shut.
"I'm sorry! I intrude too much just by asking for the alterations, I wouldn't dream of bothering you to that extent! I'm sorry!" Ayame clicked his tongue reproachfully and stood, circling Ritsu with a critical eye.
"I see you have no confidence in my abilities to design. I'm certain that you abhor the styles of the dresses in my shop and that's why you refuse my offers," Ayame teased. Ritsu's dress was quite pretty; a simple blue sundress with white trim. It was rare for him to wear anything outside of women's kimonos. But the dress was too simple for Ritsu's gorgeous Sohma features. He was much more suited to something like the gold silk evening gown Ayame had sold the week before. Ritsu was sputtering.
"Of course not, Ayame niisan! You are a genius! Your clothes are the best in all of Japan!" Ritsu cried.
"Then you will accept one of my dresses?" Ayame asked, pinching the loose fabric at the bosom.
"Well…um…" Ritsu stumbled. Aya sighed and turned away, but not before allowing Ritsu a glimpse of the fat silver tear he had been mustering since the conversation began.
"I'LL ACCEPT! I'LL ACCEPT!" Ritsu cried, clasping the back of Ayame's tunic.
"Wonderful! I'll start the designs right away!" Aya turned and beamed, all traces of tears vanished. "Remember to thank me profusely."
"Or course! Thank you Ayame niisan! Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart!" Ritsu said, bowing so much that he was a blur of flipping copper hair.
"Ha ha ha! Of course! Now, I will begin right away!" Ayame said, skipping to his armchair. He ripped the ugly otaku out of his sketchbook and started scribbling furiously on a fresh page.
"Um…" Ritsu mumbled.
"Yes, Ritchan? What is it? If you want to thank me some more there's no need. It's a pleasure to do this!" Ayame said flippantly
"Um..no, I MEAN YES! THANK YOU VERY MUCH! But…" Ritsu said.
"But?" Ayame prompted.
"But what about the alterations to this dress?" Ritsu asked, plucking at his skirt. Ayame slapped the sketchbook against his knee with an impatient sigh.
"Ritchan. I am making you a dress! How can you interrupt my artistic vision with that boring old thing?" Ayame demanded.
"You're right! I'm sorry!" Rtisu said.
"Now, go take off that second rate sack and fetch us a couple of strawberry ice creams from the convenience store on the corner!" Ayame commanded. Ritsu was changed and out the door in the blink of an eye. Ayame lifted the sketchbook and resumed his brainstorming, his eyes constantly shooting up to scan his fabric inventory for ideas. He soon became so absorbed in what he was doing that he barely noticed Ritsu's hasty return until a shadow fell over the page.
"Ah ah ah! Ritchan! It's a gift, you aren't allowed to see it yet!" Ayame scolded, the sketchbook clasped to his chest. "There! Sit right there and don't move!" Ayame shoved Ritsu to the sofa across from him and glared him down until he was certain there was no risk of peeking. He turned back to the sketch, reworking the shape of the skirt at the hips and erasing a few details on the sleeves. He held the sketch out, squinted at it, then shaking his head he tore it out and left it crumpled at his feet as he started anew.
Ritsu sat with his shoulders tensed and his skirt gripped in his clenched hands. His body was quaking with the happiness of Ayame's gift, it was a struggle to keep the tears from his eyes. Ayame was his idol, just being around him and having his charisma and confidence wash over him was comforting. He often felt that if only he could stay by his side and watch him, maybe some of his self esteem would rub off on him. Mustering up the courage to impose was the problem, many days Ritsu would find himself pacing in front of Ayame's shop for hours before giving up and cowering home.
The rare times he did find himself entering the store, he spent as much energy as possible studying Ayame's postures and gestures. Then he would go home and practice in front of a mirror. However, it just wasn't the same and within minutes he would crawl back into his women's kimonos and stuff his face with sweets.
Now he peeked through his dangling hair and peered at Ayame, watching his rigid posture and sure movements. The muscles of his face twitched with thought, it was easy to tell when he was pleased or frustrated with his work, he didn't hold anything back. But smack dab between his eyebrows was an uncustomary crease that stayed even when the rest of his face relaxed.
It was then that Ritsu realized just how hot it was! Was it the heat that was bothering Ayame? Ritsu looked down at the sweating cartons of ice cream and balked at his own stupidity! He had completely neglected to bring spoons! And Ayame in all his greatness had been too kind to bring such an idiotic mistake to light!
"I'M SORRY!" Ritsu said, jumping to his feet. Ayame guarded the sketch pad against his chest.
"What now?" Ayame asked. Ritsu's entire face rippled and tears fell in thick pearls down his cheeks.
"THE SPOOON!" He sobbed and ran from the room, a long "I'M SOOoory!" tailing after him.
"When did we spoon?" Ayame asked, scratching his pencil against his temple. There was a frantic scurry and clatter overhead of Ritsu ransacking the apartment above the shop. Within seconds he was back, an entire handful of spoons gleaming in his clenched fist. Ayame stared at him and the spoons for a second before realization dawned on him.
"Oh, yes! The ice cream!" Ayame cried, smacking his forehead. "How silly of me! Let's eat!"
As they ate Ayame regaled Ritsu with dozens of fantastic stories about things that had happened since their last meeting. He even let his hair down so that it could blow dramatically in the breeze of the electric fan. If there was one thing Aya could count Ritsu on, it was that the young man would hang rapt on his every word and applaud at every pause. He was a wonderful—and gullible—audience.
"You really saved all those puppies from the fire, Ayame niisan?" Ritsu cried. He was feeling dizzy from the altitude of Ayame's amazingness!
"Of course! Anyone would have done the same in my place! What is a world without the love of baby animals? I always say," Ayame said. He had, in fact, walked by a pet store where a small electrical fire had burst, evacuating the customers with a puff of smoke as the teenager behind the counter spritzed the small blaze with a fire extinguisher. All Ayame had done was break the pedestrian barrier and honk the horn on the firetruck when nobody was looking.
"Oh! You are amazing, Niisan!" Ritsu cried, clapping his hands. Ayame bowed and thanked him for his generous praises.
"Yes, thank you. And now! We drink to my heroic exploits! Ritchan! We need beer! And lots of it! Hurry! Hurry!" Aya cried, thrusting Ritsu's purse into his arms and chasing him out of the store.
Twelve beers later, Ayame was plastered which made him louder and more flamboyant than usual. Surprisingly, Ritsu held his liquor rather well and was still partially lucid, if a bit less apologetic. The sun had set and the floor of the back room was littered with the failed ideas for Ritsu's new dress. Ayame had taken to ranting, shifting from topic to topic with an open beer in one hand while he gripped a pencil in the opposite fist and shakily drew stick figures in princess dresses and swim suits.
"Um, Ayame niisan. I think we've had *hic* enough to drink," Ritsu said, swaying in his seat.
"No we haven't! I'll say when we've had enough to drink! Now you drink this, I'm going to go throw up and then we'll drink some more." Ayame shoved another can of beer into Ritsu's hand—even though the one he was already holding was still half full—then stumbled away towards the bathroom.
He was back a few minutes later with a glob of toothpaste foam still clinging to the corner of his mouth.
"I have an idea," Ayame announced, slightly sobered.
"Wassat niisamasan?" Ritsu slurred, then slapped a hand to his mouth with a surprised snort.
"We'll take a hose and…" Ayame began, motioning towards the store then frowned and turned to Ritsu. "What did you call me?"
"I can't remember, but it was silly," Ritsu giggled. That started Ayame giggling and soon they were both a hopeless mess on the floor. Then Ritsu began retching and that spurred them into a further fit of booze induced merriment.
"What was your idea, niisan?" Ritsu asked breathlessly some minutes later.
"I can't remember!" Aya sniggered. It took them a while to be able to breathe again.
"What were we even doing?" Ayame frowned.
"You were going to make me a dress," Ritsu said, taking a long draw from his can.
"Oh, yes! A gorgeous dress to put all other cross dressers to shame! What is this shit?" Ayame had spread out a few of his crumpled sketches and now peered abhorrently at them.
"Those were your drawings of my new dress. And I'm not a cross dresser," Ritsu pouted. Ayame clicked his tongue at him.
"Ritchan, you're a man who has been dressing like a woman since you were nine years old. That's called cross-dressing. It's nothing to be ashamed of, I do it as well from time to time," Ayame said, smoothing out a few more papers. Then he held them at eye level and squinted back and forth between the pages and Ritsu.
"None of these will do!" Ayame sighed, throwing the papers down with disgust.
"Sorry I'm making things so difficult," Ritsu grumbled sleepily from where he was slouched on the couch.
"S'not a matter of difficulty but a matter of inspiration!" Ayame said, lurching to his feet. "We just need to find what looks best on Ritchan! Drink your beer and follow me!" Ayame staggered into the main store with Ritsu on his heels, doing his best to finish off yet another can. Aya went to the racks of cosplays and glared at them, pulling some off the racks and tossing them into Ritsu's arms while passing over others with stern admonishments towards them.
"What're we doing, niisan?" Ritus asked from beneath the growing mountain of clothes.
"Getting inspiration!" Ayame sang.
Then it was an hour of drunken dressup, with Ritsu modeling cosplay after cosplay while Ayame instructed him how to walk, where to stand and how to pose. It began with basic summer dresses, but within time Ritsu was in school uniforms and maid costumes, posing like an automaton to Ayame's fevered conducting. Then, the next thing they knew they were both in gothic lolita cosplay with their long hair in ratty braids singing pop on Mine's purple karaoke player. Ayame began choreographing a dance whose composition changed every five minutes. Ritsu somehow managed to keep up with Ayame and they stepped, shimmied, waved and clapped in almost perfect synch.
"Now sashay!" Ayame ordered, swinging his hips. "Your love gives me flight! Your kisses keep me wanting!" he sang, his voice pitchy and off key.
"I'm sooorry!" Ritsu sang in backup.
"Aand…BANZAI!" Ayame cried as the song closed. They both threw their arms in the air, falling backwards onto the couch in a sniggering heap.
"We should make our own band," Ayame slurred, throwing an arm around Ritsu's shoulders. "Me and you'll sing. Tori can play the keyboard and…we'll make Gure learn to play some other kind of instrument. I'll make the costumes and we'll tour Japan and we'll get up on stag and scream TO HELL WITH WOMEN!" Ayame said, singing the last bit into the purple microphone at the top of his lungs.
"To hell with women!" Ritsu sang, sloshing his fresh can of beer. He blinked and frowned. "Wait, why to hell with women?"
"Because they're a pain in the ass!" Aya sang, then dropped the microphone and reached for Ritsu's beer which was immediately relinquished. Ritsu was still confused.
"W-why are they a pain in the ass?" he asked.
"Because they're a red hot aching pain in the ass!" Ayame growled, licking a dribble of beer from the side of the can.
"But not all women are a pain in the ass-" Ritsu began but was cut off.
"Yes they are! I said so, and so they are!" Ayame said.
"Yes, niisan," Ritsu said obediently.
"Anything without balls is a pain in the ass," Ayame continued to rant. "The way they…they…they're a pain in the ass!"
"What about Kagura chan?" Ritsu asked.
"Big big pain in the ass!" Ayame cheered, toasting his beer.
"How about Kisa chan?" Ritsu asked, plucking the lace of his skirt.
"Well…she's not a woman yet, but give her time. She'll be a roaring pain in the ass!" Ayame said, sniggering at his own joke.
"How about Mine san?" Ritus asked. The snigger left Ayame with a startled hiccup.
"She's worst of all!" Ayame keened. "Do you want to know something?" Ayame leaned against Ritsu earnestly until their noses were almost touching.
"What is it, niisan?" Ritsu asked, momentarily confused as to how Ayame's face had gotten so big.
"Mine left me!" Aya said. Ritsu gasped.
"She left you? Is she coming back?" Ritsu asked.
"Yes, in four days. But she's gone! And she's having fun even though I'm not there! She doesn't even care that we couldn't have goodbye sex!"
"No!" Ritsu gasped. He wasn't altogether sure what Ayame was talking about, but the man's indignation was infectious and he felt himself getting more riled up as Ayame ranted more of Mine's treacheries—most of which were spontaneously invented in the fog of intoxication.
"I can't believe it! She always seemed so *hic* nice to me!" Ritsu said.
"No! It's true! If I don't make her a new dress every week she'll beat me with a frying pan!" Ayame said.
"You poor thing! Niisan, that's abuse! You shouldn't put up with that!" Ritsu cried.
"I don't! That's why I told her to pack her bags and get her pain in the ass out of here!" Ayame said. Ritsu blinked at him.
"I thought she went to a family event," he said. Ayame frowned down his nose at the empty can in his hand.
"Oh, yeah," he mumbled. "Oh God, it's hot!" Ayama whined, wrenching his arm out from behind Ritsu's shoulder.
"Come on, Ritchan. Let's get naked!" Ayame said cheerfully, reaching for the laces at his back.
"Naked?" Ritsu hiccupped. If he had been sober he would have fainted in embarrassment at the prospect. At the moment he couldn't see anything particularly wrong with the idea. In fact it sounded rather nice. The lace frills were itching his thighs and he was a little shocked when he realized just how hot he was.
"C'mon, c'mon! Naked naked!" Ayame sang, grabbing Ritsu's hands and pulling him to his feet. "Unzip me, Ritchan!" Ritsu obediently unzipped the dress, revealing the flawless white skin beneath.
"I'm so jealous, Aya niisan!" Ritsu cooed.
"Of course you are!" Ayame shrugged.
"As the snake you're guaranteed to have such a slender pretty body," Ritsu continued, running a hand reverently down the groove of Ayame's back. "As the monkey, all I got were flexible toes!"
"And what's wrong with flexible toes? I know some businessmen that would pay through the nose for someone with flexible toes!" Ayame said, leaning back into Ritsu's hand. "Ooh, scratch right there!"
"It's not funny! I would never do something like that!" Ritsu protested, raking his fingers along the pale flesh. "I hate businessmen. They're always grabbing my butt on the trains." Ayame laughed and grabbed Ritsu's hands, pulling them around his waist until the younger man's face was pressed into his silver hair.
"Dear Ritchan, to become the object of a man's fantasy is a compliment," Ayame said. "Whenever someone grabs my butt on the train it makes me feel happy and I play along!"
"Play along?" Ritsu asked, spitting out a mouthful of hair.
"Of course! It does no harm to indulge someone who is weary from a long, stressful day of work with a little public play!" Ayame said.
"I would never do something like that!" Ritsu cried.
"Well you should! It's your duty as a beautiful person with a luscious backside! Here, I'll show you! Grab my butt!" Ayame said. He nudged Ritsu back a step with his shoulder and purposefully placed his hands for him. Ritsu reeled back in surprise and tried to pull his hands away.
"Niisan!" he said, startled. Ayame tightened his grip on Ritsu's hands.
"Ritchan, listen to niisan!" Ayame scolded.
"But I don't want to learn this kind of thing!" Ritsu whined, but his struggling had ceased.
"You must learn!" Ayame ordered. Ritsu sighed as he accepted his defeat. Sidling up behind Ayame he pressed his hand against the layers of black chiffon and lace.
"Ritchan! Be a businessman, not a timid middle schooler! Come on, get your hands under there!" Ayame said over his shoulder. Ritsu whimpered and slid his hands down. It took a bit of sifting before his fingers finally found the bare skin lost in the layers of material. Ayame jumped at the contact, startling Ritsu who yanked his hands back with a cry of apology.
"No, no! You have to keep going! I was acting! If someone touches your butt on a train of course you're going to jump! Now get back in there!" Ayame said. A little shaken, Ritsu flexed his hand and got back into position. Again, Ayame jumped but Ritsu was ready and it only surprised him a little this time.
"Now massage it a little, at this point I'm frozen in shock and don't move. They love the element of surprise. Come on, I said massage! Imagine that you're petting a cat!" Ayame said, pressing back a little. "Now the surprise is wearing off, so I shrink my shoulders shyly and nudge back into your hands, giving nervous approval. This elevates their confidence—Come on! More confidence!—so I push back just a little more."
The layers of their skirts were smashed between them as Ayame stepped backwards, wriggling into the hand that separated his butt from Ritsu's groin. Ritsu's breath shuddered in his chest. Every time he moved his hand to keep massaging Ayame's butt, he moved it against the front of himself.
"See? The businessman enjoys this very much! From here you can't really make any noises or big movements because that might alert the other passengers. You communicate through your breathing. You move your chest so that it looks like you're panting, without actually making the noise of panting." Ayame demonstrated, not that Ritsu would be able to decipher the silence of the staged panting through his own heavy breathing. He found himself massaging faster and faster.
Ayame ceased his verbal instructions and led instead with his body, guiding Ritsu's hand with slight rocks and shifts that would easily by camouflaged on a rattling, crowded train. Then Ayame's hand was on Ritsu's, moving it to his waist. Had they been on a train and had Ritsu been in a suit they would have looked like an ordinary couple, holding each other in the crowd.
Ayame pressed even harder into Ritsu's chest, rocking his hips ever so slightly. Ritsu's knees were getting weak. He clutched Ayame's hand and pressed his face into the man's shoulder, gasping as Ayame rubbed against him ever so slightly.
"At this point, it is my stop and the businessman is putty, so I vanish in the crowd," Ayame whispered, and he was suddenly gone. Ritsu almost collapsed without his support. Ayame was laughing and grabbing another beer on the other side of the room.
"Go smack that baby off in the bathroom and we'll practice what you've learned," Ayame said, nodding at the front of Ritsu's skirts. The layers of fabric hid it well, but they both knew it was there. Blushing, Ritsu shuffled into the bathroom and Ayame finished undressing. He was a little surprised to realize that he had gotten a little hard himself! Shrugging it off he pulled on a pair of slacks and lounged back in his armchair. He sat sipping beer in the aim of the fan and twirled a pencil between his fingers—wait, when did he pick up a pencil?
A few moments later he heard the faint sound of gasping from the bathroom. Over time it escalated into frantic whines, then all at once the room was filled with a high pitched drawn out moan—then silence save for the hum of he fan. The toilet flushed and a moment later Ritsu stumbled back into the room looking tired and pink.
Ayame cleared his throat and stood up, handing the beer to Ritsu who took a grateful swig. Then, without any warning, he stepped up behind Ritsu and slipped his hands under his skirt, finding skin almost immediately. Startled, Ritsu jumped and dropped the beer. It clattered on the concrete floor and amber liquid began seeping around his bare feet.
"Nice reaction," Ayame complimented. Ritsu stood frozen as Ayame's hands slid up and down across his rump, squeezing and fondling. Ritsu knew he was supposed to react somehow, but he was too drunk and stunned to recall just what that reaction was supposed to be.
"Come on, you're not helping me out here, Ritchan," Ayame purred. Ritsu gasped, only realizing as he gulped air that he'd been holding it in the first place.
"Quietly," Ayame whispered. Ritsu nodded and clamped his mouth shut, drawing in his shaky breath slowly. Now what? Ritsu couldn't remember, he could only stand there like a doll. Ayame's hands moved, his fingers slipping somewhere…even more intimate. Ritsu straightened with a gasp as Ayame's finger teased against his clenched hole. Ritsu wiggled a bit in protest.
"That's better," Ayame murmured, pressing his finger harder. Ritsu winced as the fingernail grazed his sensitive sphincter. "Press back!" Ayame ordered. Ritsu took a steadying breath and leaned into Ayame's chest, then gingerly eased his hips back. Ayames finger wiggled, making small circular rotations that eased him into opening up.
"W-wait! Niisan!" Ritsu whimpered.
"Ssh," Ayame hissed. The warmth of his breath brushed Ritsu's ear, making him shiver. He slowly opened his eyes and was shocked to see himself. There was a circular mirror on the wall across the room, he could just see his flushed face and Ayame's cool, collected features leering behind his shoulder. Ayame shoved his finger very abruptly, slipping it in up past the fingernail. Ritsu squirmed and Ayame's smile broadened.
Ritsu wasn't even doing it on purpose, Ayame was just making him squirm! Every time that finger wiggled, so did he and Ayame's face became more and more…Ritsu couldn't describe the transformation of the man's expression. He doubted he would have been able to describe it had he been sober! The closest description he could name would have to be…hunger. Ayame was glowing with hunger.
As this realization struck him, he was whirled around and shoved onto the couch.
"N-niisan?" Ritsu panted.
"This is the part you need to be careful about," Ayame breathed. "When you realize that the train became empty and the two of you are all alone." Ritsu opened his mouth to protest, but found it filled with Ayame's tongue. Ayame tasted like the beer, and at the corner of his mouth was the faint residual flavor of toothpaste. Ritsu squeaked and Ayame pressed down on top of him, one hand slipping back under the skirt and rubbing at his front, pulling and stroking until Ritsu was yelping into his mouth.
"More people will get on at the next stop, so it has to be quick!" Ayame warned, yanking the skirts up around Ritsu's waist. Ayame undid his fly and freed himself, then covered Ritsu before the younger man had the chance to take in the sight. Ayame used one hand to hold their two penises together, rubbing them vigorously in his clenched fist as they both lost control and began to convulse against each other's bodies. Their breathing came out in strangled primal screeches and throaty grunts. Their mouths moved across each other's faces, not exactly kissing but touching, tracing features with lips and tongue without conscious control of their actions.
"More," Ayame growled, and he rolled, bringing Ritsu with him they both slipped off the couch onto the floor, narrowly missing the sharp edge of the coffee table. With Aya now on his back with Ritsu straddling him and the grip between them broken, Ritsu was free to grind to his heart's content. Tears were streaming down his face as he rubbed his crotch furiously against Ayame's, but it wasn't quite enough yet. Aya's hands were at Ritsu's waist, pulling him forward, guiding him until it was just the right angle and…he shoved in.
It was tight, he couldn't quite make it in the first try but he thrusted persistently until he was buried to the hilt. Ritsu was screaming. So was he. Their voices were getting hoarse but they couldn't stop. They writhed, their bodies moving in a jerking, sweating synch. Ritsu was like a jack hammer, bobbing up and down so quickly that he was a white and copper blur.
Ayame could feel himself growing close. He grabbed at Ritsu's bouncing organ, failing to catch it until Ritsu stilled a moment to take a sobbing breath. Ayame clenched his hand around him hard, pumping him with the same speed Ritsu had been riding him. Then Ritsu was riding again. Their mouths were both agape, they wanted something to lick, something to bite or suck, anything, but their bodies were rigid. Neither of them could bend, not their spine, not their arms, even their toes were stretched to their capacity.
And then they came in a blinding rush of white lights and feral screams until Ritsu blacked out and slumped against Ayame's chest.
Ritsu couldn't remember anything from the night before. He woke at about three in the afternoon the next day on the floor with a painfully full bladder and piercing headache, along with various aches along every inch of his body. He was in a strange black dress with the short frilly skirt up around his stomach leaving him exposed. Blushing, he yanked the skirt down, then took a bleary-eyed look around. Ayame was asleep in his armchair and the entire back room was a mess of empty beer cans, scattered cosplays and fabric scraps. On the coffee table next to his ear was the store's gift bag with an envelope addressed to him leaning against it. Ritsu opened the flap and slid out an untidily written note.
Dear Ritchan,
Here is my gift to you. As much as I'd like to see your face when you see it, I'm horrendously drunk and will need several days to get over the hangover. Open it after you leave, no need to thank me.
~The amazing Ayame
Ritsu quickly scuttled around the room tidying up as much as he could, mopping up spilled beer and taking care of his bladder and manner of dress in the bathroom. Then he grabbed the bag and left, sneaking out the door on his tip toes.
His mouth tasted fuzzy and the sunlight was blinding. Ritsu limped exhaustedly down into the cool darkness of the underground train station where the spaces were packed with the afternoon rush. The train came and Ritsu was hustled on by the massive crowd. He managed to get a spot on the train next to the door, allowing him enough space that he could finally peer into the gift bag. There sitting on top was his blue sun dress, freshly cut and sewn. Ritsu fingered the cotton fabric reverently, then noticed a gimmer of silk beneath it. He shifted the blue dress and squinted into the depths of the bag. Then his eyes widened and the blood left his face only to rush back in a blooming blush.
Then a businessman pressed up behind Ritsu whose clever hand fondled him expertly.
The end.
What was in the bag? How did Ritsu react to the pervert on the train? I'll let you decide! In fact, write or draw it, and let me know!
So…funny thing about writing drunk scenes. This fic was written in bits and pieces in the little time I had to spare these last…ten days or whatever. Everytime I wrote a little of the drunk scene, I would be useless and fuzzy afterward. It was like I had thrown back a few myself, haha. Also, writing this fic, I realize that I didn't know how to write the word "shimmy" or its past tense form.