Fic ~ Where The Author Welcomes Her Keyboard To Adulthood...

[amh1988]

Ohmygod! I did it… I wrote something utterly filthy. I feel like I’ve sullied the poor innocent boys ¬_¬

This is the Juntoshi smut I referred to in my last post. It is kind of vaguely connected to my other Juntoshi [HERE] but trust me, you don’t have to read that one to make sense of this. It’s not like this actually has much of a plot anyway.
Thank you to zukko (zukkoke_iero) for all your help and getting me through this!

This story is EXTREMLY ‘R’ Rated. If you’re not considered an adult where you come from, please steer clear. Likewise, if graphic sexual situations bother you, it’s probably best to avoid this fic.

Title: Indebted
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut. (total p0rn)
Pairing: Juntoshi
Total Word Count: 3,000
Type: One-Shot
Summary: Matsujun has been having a rough day. Luckily, things are about to get a whole lot better with the help of Arashi’s Leader.

Disclaimer: I don’t anything or anyone depicted in this work of fiction. (Ohno and Matsujun may breathe a sigh of relief…)

 

Indebted



 

Allowing the water to sluice the hard won sweat from his skin, Matsumoto stifled a yawn. Under the hot spray of the shower he washed away his concerns of the day. The concert rehearsal of the group had gone unusually well: Everyone had seemed to be working extra hard; perhaps to make up for slacking somewhat earlier in the week. The lighting technicians and the prep staff had not faired so well. From the very start, when the LCD screens had malfunctioned, the tech staff had been plagued with problems.

When the rest of the group left just after midnight, Matsumoto had remained behind. He could not fix the problems but he could and did suggest possible alternatives. By the time the hydraulic stage lift was working again, it was two in the morning. As the support staff finally left for their homes, Jun returned, exhausted, to the dressing room. He had peeled off his sweat soaked clothes and stumbled into the tiny shower stall of the venue.

Now, trying to stay awake long enough to get clean, he reflected on the events of the night. Matsumoto did not mind the added responsibility of planning concerts; he revelled in it, in fact. But at times when everything seemed to go wrong, he wished there was someone else to whom he could pass the burden. Closing his eyes and lifting his face to the stream of warm water, the young man sighed. He hated to admit it, but Aiba Masaki had been right.

Earlier that night, when the young perfectionist had nearly completely lost his temper with the endless setbacks, Aiba had reassured him. With surprising insightfulness, the older male had pointed out that it was better to encounter any problems during rehearsals rather than during the concert itself. At the time, Jun had simply shrugged the man off. But, privately, he could confess that the intellectually challenged man was correct. It was far better to find and solve any issues now. That was the whole reason for holding rehearsals, after all.

Still, the sheer number of problems had almost been enough to upset Jun’s recently improved disposition. It was not that he had been reciting poetry or spewing daisies lately, but he had certainly been a lot more forgiving of the failings of others. A fact that Ninomiya had commented on with some suspicion – accusing Matsumoto of mellowing with old age or being in love. Naturally, the young Idol had strenuously denied both charges.

Of course, Matsumoto could not admit that the would-be magician was correct; at least in regards to the latter allegation. The fair-faced young man was in love – or at least suffering from an epic case of lust – and had been for nearly ten years. Somehow, he doubted the one-time Hollywood star would be quite so happy to learn that the object of his affections was none other than their very own leader.

The reason for his recent good mood was an incident with Ohno that had occurred two weeks previously. Jun had not exactly confessed his feelings and likewise, the older man had given no impression of returning them. Matsumoto, however, had made it clear that his admiration of the smaller man extended towards the physical. The sleepy-eyed artist had taken the revelation with his customary calm and hinted vaguely at a future encounter.

And so, while the botched rehearsal had dampened his subtly elevated mood, it could not erase his good humour completely. He did not cling childishly to the hope that the man he idolised would fall head over heels for him, but was happy to know that the friendship they shared had not suffered for his disclosure. So lost was Matsumoto in this private thoughts, he failed to hear the knock on the closed door of the small stall over the noise of the shower.

The light that spilled into the dark cubicle when the door was opened, however, brought him swiftly back to reality. Backlit by the soft florescent lighting of the bathroom, Jun could only see a vague silhouette of the man stood in the doorway. Nevertheless, the young man knew immediately who stood there; he would have known that outline anywhere. “Ohno-kun…?” He breathed. “I thought you went home.”

“I did.” Ohno agreed. Dressed only in a pair of cargo pants that rode low on his hips, the man of many talents entered the dimly lit stall. “I came back.” He stated simply as he closed the door behind him.

With the small cubicle suddenly thrown back into semi-darkness, Matsumoto swallowed a gasp. The moonlight that beamed through the solitary high window bathed the object of his desire in an ethereal bluish light. By virtue of long association, the young Idol had become adept at hiding the effect his leader had upon his body. But, alone and completely naked with Ohno’s eyes fixed upon him, Matsumoto had nowhere to hide.

Trance-like, he reached across the short distance that separated them and placed warm, wet hands on either side of the smaller mans neck. “Leader …” his voice sounded low, thick to his own ears. “What are you doing?” He forced himself to ask. He needed to know that the older –but more innocent– man was fully aware of the implications of his actions. He needed to hear from Satoshi himself that he had not gotten the wrong idea.

“It’s been ten years, right?” He responded quietly. “That whole time you were always…” The sentence trailed off, unfinished, as if Ohno felt further explanation unnecessary, or just tiresome. “I owe it to you.” He finished with a tiny shrug that Jun would not have noticed if not for the fact that his hands still rested upon the shorter man.

Squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, Matsumoto fought for some semblance of control. When he dared to reopen his eyes, however, and saw the look of naïve anticipation on the other mans face, all his efforts proved in vain. Roughly, he pulled the half-dressed man under the spray of water and against himself. Looming over the smaller man, Jun pressed his mouth to the soft lips of his leader. Forcing those same gentle lips apart, he slipped his tongue inside the wet heat of Ohno’s mouth.

Releasing the grip he held at Satoshi’s throat, Jun put his hands to better use. Exploring the expanse of exposed, damp skin that the older man presented with skilled fingers, Matsumoto felt his own excitement rise. Ohno reached up to tangle slender digits in Jun’s wet hair and bucked against his growing erection almost painfully. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of the mans soaked pants, Matsumoto tried to lessen the effect those mesmerising hips could have on his body.

Ohno moaned into his mouth; whether in protest, pleasure or in protest of pleasure denied, Jun neither knew nor cared. He was lost to the sensations coursing through his being. The feel of Ohno’s sculpted chest sliding along his own, the hot breath that mingled between them and the growing pressure at his groin kept all rational thought at bay.

Breaking the extended kiss suddenly, the older man pulled away slightly. He slid his talented hands down the length of Masumoto’s slick torso to curl around his hard flesh. “Ohno-” He gasped in shock at the unexpected action.

The laid-back artist regarded him silently. His mahogany eyes had darkened to the colour of charcoal and burned with resolve. Ohno knew what he was doing, and he intended to do it, no matter what. Jun knew better than to argue when his leader had made a decision. And frankly, this was one decision that he had no desire to question.

Groaning, he thrust into the tight cradle of Satoshi’s hand as the man expertly stroked his hot flesh. Burying his face in the curve of the shorter mans neck; he suckled hungrily on the smooth, slightly salty skin of Ohno’s throat. His heart pounded loudly in his ears and his blood seemed to boil in a veins. The warm water at his back felt cool against his fevered skin.

Breathing hard, Matsumoto rocked his hips to the rhythm that his leader set. The older man tilted his head back and sighed. Without altering his pace, he exposed more of his throat to Jun’s not so tender ministrations. “Ah… that’s good…” He moaned as Jun moved to taste the skin at the hollow of his collarbone. He suckled hard, but briefly, careful not the mark the flawless skin of the smaller man.

Trailing wet kisses along the taunt tendons at Ohno throat, he nipped gently at the soft skin just below his jaw. “Leader…” He breathed warningly into the mans ear, his cock straining in the mans firm grasp. “If you don’t slow down-.”

“Uh, not yet.” Abruptly the older man released his grip and took a step back. Closing his eyes in guilt and frustration, Matsumoto held back a moan. He thought he must have frightened the usually timid artist. When he looked again, however, Satoshi was searching his sodden pants and taking something from the pocket. Wordlessly, he pressed a small tube into Jun’s palm.

The young man recognised the object immediately. His head snapping up, he met the eyes of the other man. “Ohno-kun, this is…”

“I know.” The man stepped close to him once more. Hesitantly he looked up at the taller man. He licked his lips nervously. “You know how to-? I mean, you’ve done it before, right?”

Numbly, Matsumoto nodded. Ten years ago, his budding obsession with his reluctant leader had shown him where his sexual preferences lay. Over the following decade he had conducted his affairs in private. For the good-looking Idol, there had been no shortage of willing, discreet, partners. But, as much as Jun had fantasised about claiming Ohno for himself, he had never thought it could become a reality. “Leader… this isn’t something…. It’ll hurt you, you know.” He told the man gently. “You don’t have to do this for my sake.”

Satoshi shook his head gently, sprinkling droplets of water with his action. “I’m not.” He leaned into Matsumoto’s body and placed warm hands at his chest. “I want to. I’m kind of curious. Besides,” He added, rubbing against the man suggestively. “You’re not the only one with a raging hard-on right now.” He whispered huskily.

Covered as he was by the loose fitting fabric of his cargo pants, Jun had not noticed Ohno’s growing need. Pressed against him, though, as it was now, there was no denying that the older man was just as excited as him. Finally, he surrendered. Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to the mans mouth tenderly. “I’ll be careful.” He promised. Sliding slowly to his knees, he kissed a path down Ohno’s chest. Gently, he tugged the soaked pants from the artists’ slender hips, freeing his straining erection from the coarse wet confines.

Matsumoto stared. Before him, the silky smooth length of Ohno’s cock bobbed invitingly. He could not help himself; eagerly he leaned in and ran his tongue from the base to tip of his hard shaft. “Uhn…” Satoshi clamped his hands on the kneeling mans shoulders and gave a breathy moan as his legs threatened to give way under him. Emboldened by the response he had elicited from the older man, Jun smiled to himself. Taking the man into his mouth, he drew hard on the throbbing flesh.

He took his time to taste the other man as Ohno thrust impatiently into him. Running his talented hands through Matsumoto’s hair he groaned in pleasure. As the first drops of fluid leaked from the tip of his cock, Jun swallowed them hungrily. But he was not ready to end this encounter so early: Not yet. Rising gracefully to his feet, the tall man captured Ohno’s mouth with his own, knowing that the smaller man would be able to taste himself on Jun’s lips.

Holding the older man at the waist, Matsumoto turned the man and embraced him from behind. Reaching around and taking Ohno’s stiff length in one hand, Jun murmured reassurance softly into his ear. The small man breathed heavily, sliding his body against the man impatiently. Unable to hold back any longer, Matsumoto used his long body to shield them both from the water as he took his hand back and uncapped the tube Ohno had given him.

Spreading Satoshi’s legs further apart with his own, the older man was forced to bend slightly to brace himself on the wall in front of him. Liberally, Jun covered his hand and the tight muscle of Ohno’s ass with the cool, slick liquid. Slowly, cautiously, he pushed the tip of one slender finger inside. Crying out with a muffled curse, the artist clenched against him. “Ohno-kun….” Jun caressed the man back softly with his free hand. “Relax.” The man nodded mutely, trying to do as he was told and Matsumoto was able to slide the rest of his digit into the tight heat.

He stopped there for a moment, giving his leader time to adjust. Gradually, Ohno began to move; rocking his hips shallowly against Jun’s hand. With long, steady strokes, the taller man drew insistent gasps from the other man. “Ahn…it’s alright now.” Ohno panted breathlessly. “Matsujun… ah, more…”

Stretching the man further by adding a second finger, Matsumoto leaned over the man and pressed a kiss to the back of his damp neck. Despite the constant stream of warm water from the shower, both men were covered with a light sheen of sweat. Satoshi arched his back and moaned piteously. His knuckles were white as he clung desperately to the wall, finding little purchase on the smooth tile.

The young perfectionist gloried in the image his leader made. The soft whimpers of pleading that issued from Ohno’s throat in breathy gasps were all the encouragement he needed. He spread his fingers inside the man and Satoshi shuddered pleasurably at the sensations that shot through him. “Please…” The quiet man begged. “I need – Ah!”

Thrusting quickly, Matsumoto silenced Ohno’s pleas. Retrieving the discarded lubricant with his free hand, he poured the viscous liquid over his throbbing erection. He pulled out of the man and spread the cheeks of Satoshi’s rear. The small man cried out again as Jun pushed the head of his cock into the tight grip of his ass. As the taut heat clenched around his excited flesh, the experienced lover knew he would not last long within the smaller man. He paused, catching his own breath and allowing Ohno to settle around him.

Jun reached around to caress Satoshi. The mans erection had wilted slightly with the pain, but in Matsumoto’s talented hands it soon sprang back to life. Finally, Ohno was able to relax and his excitement began to rise again. Slowly, the taller man dove deeper into his leader. With deliberate, measured strokes, Matsumoto drove the smaller man to mewling whimpers. Tentatively, the artist began to match his rhythm. With each careful thrust, he brushed Ohno’s prostate with his hot flesh and the small man gasped.

Ohno’s erection throbbed in the younger mans hand, and Jun knew the man was on the brink of orgasm. Letting go, he braced himself at Satoshi’s hips and changed his pace to quick, shallow thrusts. The smaller man pushed against him, blindly seeking the long stokes that would send him over the edge and grant him the release he so desperately needed. Fighting for control, Matsumoto held the other man firmly in place. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted his leader to need him with the same fervour that Jun had felt for ten years.

The older man writhed, clawing at the wet tiles and gasping for breath. “Please!” He cried; his voice a broken sob.

“What?” Matsumoto growled huskily. “Say it, Leader… tell me what you want.”

“Uhmn…” Resting his forehead against his arms, Ohno moaned. “To come…” He groaned, at length. “I want you to make me come.”

The tall man was only too happy to oblige. Burying his cock to the hilt, he pressed deeply into the man. Ohno rocked against him, cries caught in his throat as Matsumoto deliberately sought out and found his most sensitive spot. As rolling spasms shook his small frame and his orgasm overtook him, Ohno clamped down on Jun’s hot flesh. It was enough to send the younger man to oblivion. While his leader shot waves of sticky fluid to the floor, Matsumoto spilled his own hot juices inside the smaller man.

Finally, the overwhelming burst of conflicting sensations settled to shuddering waves of pleasure. Exhausted and boneless, the two men sank to the floor. Cradling the smaller man in his lap, Jun held him, nuzzling his neck affectionately. Ohno allowed the demonstrative act and shifted to a more comfortable position. In the silence that followed, he spoke quietly, his tone normal but his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before…”

Chuckling softly, Jun tightened the embrace he held around the smaller mans waist. “Thank you for letting me.”

His leader gave a shrug. “Payback.” He stated. “For all the times you’ve helped me out over ten years.”

Caressing the soft skin of Ohno’s stomach absently, Matsumoto replied seriously. “You were never in my debt.” He informed the man.

“Yes, I am.” Satoshi insisted.

Jun disagreed. “Truthfully, I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for tonight.”

“Fine,” Ohno turned to look up at him. “Then we’re indebted to each other.” He stated. “Any time you feel like making a similar payment, let me know, OK?”

The younger man laughed. “You’re not serious!?”

“Why not?” The artist pouted. “It was fun. And it probably gets better with practice, right?” At Matsumoto’s dumbfounded nod, he continued with a grimace. “Good, because I think I might have some trouble dancing tomorrow.”

“Are you alright?” The younger man asked, instantly concerned.

“I’m fine.” Ohno reassured him. “But maybe we should clean up before the shower gets completely cold….” Getting to his feet, he offered a hand to the younger man.

“There is just one problem, Leader.” He stated, looking around the small shower stall with a smile.

“What is it?”

“You did bring a spare pair of pants, right?”

“Oh…”





End.
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Obviously, this is my first time writing something NC-17….
Comments and feedback would be much appreciated, but given how shy I was about posting this, you’re welcome to simply lurk anonymously. ^^