A/N: If you haven't watched his entrance at Takeover:Toronto yet...Do so immediately. I wrote this chapter way before I saw that, but Shin's movements made me want to post this one right away... (ahem) Also, in my stories, usually, italics are thoughts/memories. :)

Shinsuke lay restlessly in his bed, having left Jason's house and arrived back at his own (still sporting a raging boner, of course). He wished with all his heart that there was someone he could call to help him with his big problem, but it was way too late at night for all that.

It seemed as though he'd have to take matters into his own hands this time.

With a resigned sigh, he positioned himself so that he was lying comfortably on his back, slipped one hand into the front of his boxers, and the other up to his exposed nipples.

As he lightly tweaked and tugged, Shinsuke let his mind wander back to the events of tonight with Jason Jordan. Of course, he was hard as a rock imagining those strong, supple thighs, and that twitching hole he didn't even get to use. Best of all were JJ's reluctant cries—just on the edge of begging for mercy.

Suddenly, however, Shinsuke's mind wandered to an entirely different moment, with an entirely different person.

He groaned aloud, biting his lip. He didn't want to get off on that particular memory, but it seemed as though his psyche had other things planned.

After all, he would never forget that night...

Shinsuke didn't even hear him open the door, much less come in and stand by the edge of the bed. For someone so muscular, he was more graceful and quiet than a cat...when he wanted to be.

"Holy fucking shit, Tana," Shinsuke found himself saying as he started awake, the form by his bed surprising him out of sleep. "Knock next time, won't you?!"

Hiroshi Tanahashi smiled down at Shinsuke—not his rare, and infuriating, condescending smirk, but a genuine smile.

"Shinsuke...I'm so happy to see you."

He was slurring his words, and Nakamura knew right away that he'd been out drinking with his friends. A rare event, to be sure, but nothing to be surprised about. They had all won big matches tonight, after all; celebrating was certainly in order.

But that still didn't explain why Tanahashi Hiroshi was in his bedroom.

"I came here...I'm so happy..." His words were slow and measured, and Shinsuke rolled his eyes. Deciding that this wasn't going to end anytime soon, he scooted over on the other side of the bed, and patted the newly-empty space.

"Tana, lay down and get some damn sleep. You're kinda drunk."

Hiroshi nodded sagely. "Yeah..." He began to strip away his clothes, and Shinsuke turned away, to give him privacy.

Not that it was anything he hadn't seen before, but, still.

He felt the mattress shift just the slightest bit as Tana climbed in, and couldn't help but smile: It had been a long time since they shared a bed.

The happy warmth radiating from Tanahashi's body was comforting...or, at least, it was until Shinsuke felt a pair of huge arms curling around his waist, and a muscular leg draped over his own.

"What the fuck, Tana?" he asked, mildly annoyed as he tried to roll away, to no avail. Tanahashi was like a squid, tangling their limbs even more. Shinsuke managed to roll onto his back; but, Hiroshi immediately pinned him, as though they were in the ring, and not in a bed.

Nakamura felt a strange pulse in the pit of his stomach as he looked up into Tanahashi's beautiful eyes. The older man had Nakamura's wrists pinned above his head, and the King of Strong Style's waist pinned with his powerful thighs.

Shinsuke struggled, and realized that if he wanted to get free, he'd really have to fight for it.

"I saw you, like this, with Kazuchika," Tana was saying, a far-away look in his eyes. "You were holding him down, and he was squirming and fighting, but you took him anyway. I wanted to have you in the exact same way since then..."

Shinsuke's face became warm with slight embarrassment. He knew exactly what Hiroshi was talking about, and when it had happened...but he didn't know anyone was watching him, at the time.

The thought of Tana peeking in through the door like some kind of pervert as he fucked Okada made Shinsuke hot all over; and combined with the knowledge that the normally-reserved Tanahashi wanted to do the same thing to him made Nakamura bite his lip and moan.

"Tana, go to sleep," Shinsuke said somewhat shakily, cock rock-hard in his boxers.

"Can't." Hiroshi, apparently feeling the erection as well, started to grind their crotches together, never releasing Shinsuke's trapped wrists. "I need you."

Before the King of Strong Style could give his sarcastic reply, Tanahashi leaned down and kissed him, hard, full on the mouth. Their chests, pressed so closely together, revealed that their heartbeats were in sync, both speeding up as the friction between their bodies increased.

"Tanahashi..." Shinsuke managed to pull an arm free, and pointed over to his nightstand. Hiroshi gave him a questioning look.

"There's rope in there," Nakamura explained, dark eyes burning. "If you're going to rape me, Tana, do it right."

Shinsuke's breath hitched in his throat, and he had to force himself to slow down, or else he was going to come too quickly. His cock was painfully hard, and dripping pre-cum freely into his palm. Somehow, Tanahashi did this to him in a way that no one else in Shinsuke's life could.

'Damn, I miss him,' he found himself thinking, and the sadness was almost enough to cool him down completely.

Almost.

However, his imagination remained as faithful as always, and Nakamura resumed the scene in his head without pause, hands beginning their rhythm once more.

Shinsuke pulled against the rope that looped around both his wrists and the bedpost—a clumsy, but effective restraint—while Hiroshi thrust into him as he knelt between his long legs at a slow, but steady, pace.

Nakamura knew that they were being too loud, that their easily recognizable voices could probably be heard from a kilometer away.

But there was no way that they could stifle their moans, their gasps, their cries. Their bodies, in any configuration, always fit perfectly together. Tana, no doubt, was overwhelmed with the tightness of Nakamura's twitching opening; and Shinsuke's pleasure buttons were all being pounded at the same time.

Tanahashi, never stopping his movements—the man had stamina like a god—once again kissed Shinsuke, nipping at his neck after leaving his wet lips. Shinsuke, for his part, was forced into a more passive role this time, only receiving pleasure, able to do nothing more than writhe and buck under Tanahashi's weight.

When he tried to regain some measure of control, Hiroshi shifted, pushing Shinsuke's legs even further apart, driving in deeper and causing the younger man to gasp aloud.

"Your flexible body," Tanahashi was saying, as drunk with lust as he was with alcohol, "I love what I can do to it."

"Your dirty talk is shit," Shinsuke remarked, eyes shut tight against the sensations, more turned on than he would dare to admit by Hiroshi taking him so forcefully.

Tanahashi took the insult in stride, and responded by sticking two fingers in Nakamura's open mouth. Shinsuke stared at him wide-eyed.

"Don't be so rude," Hiroshi scolded, and felt the King of Strong Style's body clench around him. He was one of the few people in this world who knew just how much Shinsuke loved being on both sides of the sadomasochistic fence.

"Answer me," he demanded, thrusting once, hard, and hitting Shinsuke's prostate. Beneath Tana, the younger man moaned and squirmed, nodding once, desperately.

"Good boy, Shin-Chan. Now, let's see how long you can last today. Make me happy, Nakamura."

"Fuck!"

Back arching up off the bed, Shinsuke came hard in his hand, eyes squeezed shut as the memory of that night played behind his eyelids like a well-loved porno.

When the flashes and tremors at last passed, Nakamura lay limp, finally sated from the day's activities. Again, he found his mind wandering back to Japan, and all the people he left there—Kazuchika, Tana, Goto, and so many others. He was too tired to feel regret, but the small pain in his heart served to remind him why he was here, and what his purpose was in coming so many thousands of miles.

It was all like a dream...and the best part of it was getting to love through everyone. There was no way to replace, in his heart, the ones he left behind; but if there's one thing Shinsuke was sure of, was that there was certainly room for more people in his heart...and in his bed, of course.

With that final thought, the beautiful King of Strong Style fell asleep, a small smile on his lips.

I'm having too much fun writing Shinsuke... I hope it's as much fun for you all as it is for me. ;)

Review?