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Strict Machine

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Nino climbs onto the table, and for a minute everything seems weirdly normal, like the four of them aren't about to make a porno in their leader's apartment while he’s gone fishing. Even being the only one naked doesn’t seem that weird, considering everything else they've gone through together.

Then Jun says, "You have to be facing away from the machine for this to work," and suddenly it's not any kind of normal anymore.

Nino turns around, sitting on his knees. The lacquered wooden surface is a little cool to the touch, but not uncomfortable. He's glad that Sho had remembered to turn on the heat, though.

"How's the lighting?" Jun asks.

"I think we might need the overhead on," Sho says, adjusting the settings on the second camera. He's already got the tripod where he wants it, but they all thought they might want to take close-ups, too.

Aiba comes back in from the bathroom, and flips the switch on his way. "Oooh, looking good!" he says.

"That's definitely better," Sho says. Nino watches him put the second camera's strap carefully around his neck; it's just like him to take that kind of precaution.

Jun fiddles a bit more with the machine. Nino resists the urge to look when he hears the distinct sound of the bottle of lube being opened.

"You'd better have prepared yourself," Jun says, and the bottle makes a hilarious squirting noise when he squeezes it. Aiba giggles in the corner at the noise, bent over their bag of supplies.

Nino rolls his eyes, and relaxes a little bit, because if Aiba's being immature - if Jun is being a dick - if Sho's feigning professionalism when it's really not necessary... then maybe this is normal, for them. "Don't worry about me, director-san," Nino says. "I took care of it." He peeks over his shoulder to more effectively smirk at Jun, but he catches sight of the machine again when he does that, and can't look away for a second: he hadn't quite imagined how big it would be, in person, and it still grabs his attention.

"Matsujun's just disappointed that he can't make you regret something," Aiba says, grinning.

"Hey, hey," Sho shushes them. "I'm filming already!"

"Nino," Jun says, "bend over."

Nino looks away from the machine, back to Jun's face as Jun watches him, expectant. He turns around again and lowers himself onto his elbows, dropping his head down between his arms and exhaling slowly in an attempt to breathe out some of his tension.

Then Jun turns on the machine. The sound of it whirring slowly into action makes Nino's hair stand on end for a second; it's a shock in the relative quiet. He can feel the vibrations from its movement all along his shins, and on his elbows, and on the tops of his feet where they're pressed to the table. It makes his bangs move gently in front of his face, though the table itself seems sturdy underneath him. He forces himself to breathe slowly.

"You okay there, Nino?" Jun asks, still standing behind Nino, near the machine's controls. Somehow, when Jun smirks, he smirks not just with his mouth but with his whole body: his posture, his hair, his voice.

"Yes, yes," Nino says, a bit more sharply than he'd meant to. "Shut up."

Aiba and Jun share a grin over the machine gleaming dully under the overhead light, its pistons rotating slowly, softly.

Sho makes another adjustment to the tripod, then holds the second camera up and comes closer. "Man, we haven't even started yet and it already looks pretty hot on the screen," he comments.

Nino chuckles into the table. "Things I didn't want to know about you, Sho-chan. Things I didn't want to know."

"But we can get started for real, right?" Aiba bounces in place, just the once, but that's more than enough. "Everyone's ready? Yay!"

Everyone laughs - of course Aiba would relieve tension by being an idiot. Still, Nino takes a deep breath to steady himself. He's starting to feel okay about this, about the machine droning rhythmically behind him even as everyone else grows quiet and watchful. The excitement and anticipation take over the anxiety, and he waits calmly for the feel of the machine.

But it's not the machine that he feels. "Hey!" He looks over his shoulder again. "What the hell, Jun-kun. Your cold hands are not the point of this."

Jun glances at him and tuts, "I'm just making sure."

Nino drops his head back, pointedly not squirming against Jun's fingers methodically rubbing at his hole and pushing in.

"Oh, can I see?" Aiba inquires, and before Nino can tell both of them to fuck off, Aiba's helping Jun stretch him out, both their fingers working inside of him at once.

Nino makes a face even though they can't see it. He really had made sure to get ready before they all came over, so it's not that uncomfortable, just - he drops his head down again and keeps breathing against Aiba's stupid running commentary ("You must be really relaxed, Nino!") and the sound of Sho stepping around the table for a close-up.

They don't tease him like that for long, but when their fingers are gone Nino can feel apprehension and anticipation fighting inside of him. It's really going to happen, he thinks.

Then Jun is grabbing his hand and guiding it backwards, onto the attachment at the end of the machine. He positions Nino's fingers around it and says, "Now, put it in."

The piece is silicone and pliable in his grip, slick with lube and almost perfectly smooth as it moves in his hand at a slow, steady pace. He takes a deep breath, carefully lets it out, and shifts his hips up until he feels the blunt end of the attachment nudge against him.

Somehow it feels more like he's being watched now, now that everyone is standing around him, Jun and Aiba near the machine that's slowly working its way into him, Sho with the tripod and the handheld, filming. No one says anything, so that the only sound Nino hears is the droning of the machine and his own pulse pounding in his ears like a drum. He stays calm by reminding himself that the fluttering in his stomach is from his jittery nerves and not the physical sensation; he's stretched enough, Jun and Aiba made sure of that, and he knows the machine's attachment wasn't chosen for its monstrous size or anything. It's not even that big, at least not in porn terms, only a little bigger than Ohno. Still, the slow slide of it as it moves past his resistance, along the palm of his hand and into him - it's a lot, more than he's used to.

It is something he's done and enjoyed countless times before - never with a machine, but still - and he works up to it the way he's done before, too. He shifts minutely until the angle is right, and he lets the attachment slowly fill him. When it's all the way in and moving inside of him, he pulls his hand away and lets his head drop to rest on his arms.

"How's that?" Jun asks.

Nino squirms and considers as his body acclimates to the machine. "Good," he decides.

Jun gives him another moment to feel it out. Then he says, "I'm gonna turn it up, okay?"

Nino says, "Yeah," and then the machine's whirring becomes a little louder, the piece inside of him moves a little faster, and Nino lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Jun asks, "Nino?"

Nino doesn't answer right away. The machine is insistent and unyielding but still so slow, more of a tease than anything. Nino spreads his legs wider, rolls his hips, and tells Jun over his shoulder, "Make it go faster."

Jun does.

The machine speeds up mid-thrust. When it sheaths itself inside of him, Nino's eyes flutter closed, and he makes a breathy gasp before he can stop himself. Now that the machine is at a speed he's familiar with, a speed he enjoys, it's easy for him to pretend that it's a person inside of him, not something synthetic and malleable - it's easy for him to pretend that it's Oh-chan - and that thought goes straight to his dick.

The others keep watching, curious and captivated. Sho is still manning the camera, staying close to the tripod but moving now and again to get a different angle with the handheld, as Jun hovers near the machine and Aiba circles the table. Aiba's making curious and excited observations as if he's holding a clipboard and jotting notes: "Wow, it's going pretty deep," and "Look, Nino's getting into it."

And Nino is getting into it, so Jun sets the machine to go faster, and it's just the right speed, just the right amount. Nino drops his forehead onto the table and arches his back to get just the right angle, and when he reaches between his legs to touch himself, no one tells him to stop.

He starts with slow, languid strokes and lets his mind wander away from this scene. He thinks of Ohno, and imagines him watching this later. He remembers the camera and opens his eyes to look up into it, to play a little, suppressing a smile in favor of an open-mouthed porn-star moan.

Somewhere behind him, he hears a snort from Jun, and then Aiba's voice: "I wonder how much it would take for Nino to not think anymore?"

He hears Jun hum in agreement. Then the machine speeds up, and Nino gasps and scrabbles for purchase against the table, pressing hard against the smooth surface when he can't find an edge to grip. This speed itself isn't overwhelming, but it usually takes a good deal of prompting to get Ohno to go this fast, and feeling it now, sooner than he's ready for it, catches Nino off guard.

He realizes, in that moment, that pretending the machine is a person maybe isn't the point of this. He feels the machine and how it's different from Ohno - just as steady but faster, harder, more unrelenting - he feels the way his knees are pressed into the table just a little uncomfortably, feels the way his breath is moving noisily in his throat, the way his whole body is rocking with the momentum of the machine - and he knows that the point isn't to pretend at all.

The point is him, on camera, on display, getting fucked - being used - all for Oh-chan -

Nino gives another low moan, genuine this time, and reaches for himself again. If he's going to do this for Oh-chan, then he's going to do it right. He lets himself stop thinking, stop analyzing, stop worrying, and focuses on nothing but his body as it moves with the machine that's pounding into him faster now than Ohno ever could.

It's not long before he's panting, lost somewhere in between the slick piece inside of him and his own steady hand. He keens, and comes, and slumps down against the tabletop, utterly spent.

Afterwards, the room seems strangely silent with just the sound of his breathing and the whirring of the machine. Even now that Jun has slowed it down, the feel of it still moving in and out of him is bordering on too much. As soon as he catches his breath, he'll get Jun to turn it off -

And then Aiba says, "You should get your stuff, Matsujun!"

Nino's head snaps up. He's still breathless, and it takes a moment for him to gasp out, "What stuff?"

Jun's only response is a smile as he moves towards the equipment bag.


The cuffs are made of soft, padded black leather and connected by a short length of black rope threaded through the silver D-rings on each side, and it's not entirely unpleasant when Jun straps one onto Nino's left ankle. "You guys can't be serious," Nino says, watching Jun over his shoulder. He's still a little out of breath.

Jun ignores the comment as he takes Nino's left hand and gently pulls his arm back, slipping the accompanying cuff around his wrist and buckling it snugly. "Is that too tight?" he asks.

Nino tugs a bit, flexing his fingers. "It's fine," he says, and then, "I can't believe you guys are serious."

"It's for Leader!" Aiba reminds him.

Sho is crouched beside the table, getting a close-up on the cuffs. "I think he'll like it very much," he says, and, well, Nino can't argue with that.

With his face so low to the tabletop, it takes a bit of work for him to look over his other shoulder as Jun comes around the back of the table and gets to work cuffing Nino's right ankle. Even after watching him move, Nino jumps a little when he feels Jun's hand on the back of his thigh, pushing his ass up higher before he reaches for Nino's arm. Nino is suddenly and distinctly aware of what he must look like in this position, of his own breathing, of the leather tightening around his wrist and locking him into place, of the machine still humming softly behind him.

"Okay?" Jun asks, quiet and serious for a moment. His thumb is rubbing little circles against Nino's ankle below the leather.

Nino nods once. Jun pats his leg, and then he's gone, walking back to the machine.

Sho asks, "Does it need to be higher?"

Aiba immediately brightens. "I can go get some of Leader's books," he offers, already moving towards the doorway. "He's got those big ones with pictures of people fishing -"

He's halfway to the next room when Jun calls him back with a sigh that might as well be an eye-roll. "Aiba-chan, the machine's adjustable."

Aiba bounds back to his place at Jun's side, surely disappointed at not being able to test how many coffee-table books it would take to create a sturdy foundation.

As the two of them fuss over the settings, Nino squirms on the table, trying to get used to this position. He decides that it's too much strain to keep his head up, so he turns back towards Sho and the camera and lets his cheek rest on the table. He feels exposed and vulnerable, but he also knows that he's safe here with the guys - plus, it's for Oh-chan - so he tries to reason away the heavy sense of anticipation that settles over him as he listens to but can't quite see Jun adjust the machine. He hears the obscene sounds of the lube as Jun reapplies it, hears the rattling of the machine as Aiba moves it, and then he feels it, the slick silicone nudging right up against him - just a cool, blunt pressure at first - and then into him as Aiba guides it forward.

Nino reacts instantly, flinching away without meaning to but held steady by the cuffs. It's too cold and too slow to be comfortable, and even when it warms with his body heat, even when Jun adjusts the speed, it's still too soon after Nino has come for him to be into it. Without the heady buffer of arousal, the insistent push of the machine is almost too much.

"How does that feel?" Jun asks.

"Yeah," Aiba adds, significantly more enthusiastic, "how does it feel?"

Nino swallows and stutters, "It's, ah - it's a lot." He can barely get the words out. He knows he's been fucked for longer, knows this is nothing compared to some of the things he and Ohno have done, but somehow it's more this time - now that he's come once already, now that Jun and Aiba and Sho are all standing around him and watching and orchestrating - now that the camera is trained on him and the cuffs are holding him in place -

He doesn't realize he's gasping until Sho appears at his side, still holding the camera in one hand, his other hand coming up to touch Nino's shoulder. "It's okay," he says. His touch and his voice are gentle, calm. He moves closer, fingers drifting to brush the hair out of Nino's eyes. "You're okay."

"If you're going to cuddle with him," Jun teases, "at least give me the camera."

Sho smiles and steps away to hand it over wordlessly, and then he's back, kneeling at the head of the table to bring himself eye-level with Nino. "You're okay," he repeats. His fingers sweep through Nino's hair and then lower, knuckles brushing along the curve of Nino's jaw. "It feels nice, doesn't it?"

Nino bites his lip and nods.

When Sho speaks next, his voice is quiet - too quiet for the cameras. "You look good like this," he says, "so hot. Ohno-kun is going to love his present."

The thought of Ohno watching this later, seeing him like this, full and exposed... Nino moans before he can even think to hold it in.

Sho smiles. "You're okay," he says again. Then he's standing, moving out of Nino's field of vision to circle the table, but he doesn't stop touching Nino. His fingertips move up through Nino's hair, down his neck, his shoulder, along his arm, keeping him anchored. Sho finally stops at the other end of the table, where he stands by Jun and links his fingers through Nino's, holding on tight.

Nino breathes.

And Jun ups the machine.


"Ah, look! He's hard again!"

Nino's gasping has begun to fog the lacquered finish of the table below him, and his body is highlighted with a sheen of sweat and flushed red in places - his face, his chest, his knees where they've been pressed against the unforgiving tabletop for over an hour now.

He's panting and glossy-eyed, but he swallows thickly and puffs out, "Aiba, you know you don't have to - ah -" His breath hitches and cuts off as Jun ups the machine again. He shudders and works his mouth around a silent moan, but then Sho is there again, soothing him through it. After a moment he manages to continue breathlessly, "You don't have to narrate everything for the camera."

"I just want to make sure no detail is lost!" Aiba responds cheerily. His eyes follow Sho's hand against Nino's skin for a long moment before he reaches out to slowly, curiously, trail his fingertips up the back of Nino's thigh.

The added touch makes Nino whimper until Jun steps over and smacks Aiba's hand away. Still, something about Nino changes with Aiba's touch: his hips move a little more quickly with the rhythm of the machine, and his arms pull at the cuffs like he wants out of them. Sho moves along the side of the table, letting his hands sweep down Nino's back in what is meant to be a comforting gesture, but the touch only makes Nino twitch and pant.

He bites his lip on the edge of a moan and gasps out, "I need -" but can't quite finish, too lost in whatever sensation is making his eyelashes flutter.

Sho moves his hand from Nino's back to his hair, brushing damp strands off his forehead. "What is it?" he prompts, voice gentle, reaching. "What do you need?"

Nino shivers under him and snaps, "What do you think -"

And that's when Jun turns the machine up just one more notch.

Nino chokes on the last words of his response. His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth falls open, his whole body tenses - he cries out - and then he comes, toes curling and fingers clutching at the rope attached to the cuffs.

There's a long moment where Sho, Aiba, and Jun blink at each other as Nino writhes on the table below them, whining as the machine fucks him through the last waves of his orgasm.

Aiba is the one who breaks the silence, giggling delightedly behind his hand. "Awesome!"


Jun has slowed the machine down again, but Nino's still panting and shivering when Aiba approaches the table. He's holding the gag delicately, with a leather strap in each hand so that the blue rubber ball hangs in the air between them, swinging lightly. Nino catches sight of it and makes a noise like he wants to dash away.

"Let's see how far Nino can go." Aiba smiles earnestly, dazzlingly. "For Leader?"

Nino breathes, and bites his lip, and then he closes his eyes and nods, lifting his head up from the table to open his mouth wide.

For a while the only sound in the room is the continuous drone of the machine as it moves in and out of Nino, its mechanisms working diligently even as the others fall silent to watch Aiba buckle the leather straps at the back of Nino's head.


Nino is on his back, his knees up, his wrists still cuffed to his ankles, the gag shiny with spit in his mouth. Sho is up on the table with him, sitting cross-legged with Nino's head in his lap, his hands gentle on Nino's face. Nino's hips are propped up with a couch cushion, just the right height for Jun to guide the machine back into him; when he does, Nino struggles away, only stopping when Sho smooths his hands over Nino's forehead and down his neck.

Nino looks damp all over and flushed from the tips of his ears down to his chest, staring up at Sho through dark eyes while Sho whispers to him, barely audible, that he's doing just fine. The machine starts to go faster, and Nino shudders, turning away from Sho with a moan. The moment does not pass but stretches out: his legs shake even after the shudder works its way through the rest of his body, and he whines in time with every thrust of the machine.

It's a long time before he's hard again, minutes that stretch out and fill with squirming and whimpering each time Jun ups the machine.

When he finally does get there, Aiba trails curious fingers over his stomach. "Does Nino need a hand?" he asks quietly, his mouth crooked into a smile. Nino's eyes are half-lidded and glassy, and he holds Aiba's gaze for only a short moment before the machine drives back into him and he's drifting away with another moan. Aiba keeps his left hand rubbing slow circles over Nino's belly, while his right hand drifts up along the plane of Nino's softly defined abs, to his chest.

The first time Aiba thumbs over Nino's nipple, Nino tries to jerk away. But Aiba persists, working gradually from light brushing to bolder pinching. Sho joins in, and for a while they work together, drawing gasps out of Nino with every flick against his chest, drawing sighs with every stroke down his neck or along his face, the sounds slurred together by the gag.

When Aiba leans down to tongue Nino's left nipple at the same time that Sho licks his thumb and forefinger and reaches out to pinch Nino's right one, Nino nearly sobs.

When Aiba's hand creeps away from Nino's stomach and lower to circle around his cock, Nino outright wails.

Jun ups the machine one last time, Nino's stomach jolting in answer, and steps away from it to swipe the bottle of lube from the corner of the table. He motions for Aiba's hand and squirts a dollop onto it, then onto his own.

Nino cries out and tries to close his knees when Aiba touches his cock again, but Jun tsks behind his teeth, nudging Nino's legs open and joining Aiba. Together they work his cock, their hands slick and sure, while Sho continues playing with his nipples; they visibly push him to his limits, until his whole body is taut and shivering and arched like a bow, and then even further. He finally comes, sobbing and gasping behind the gag, the machine relentlessly fucking into him.

After Jun turns down the machine and slowly eases it out of Nino's stretched hole, Sho pets his hair and says, "You did so well, Nino - Ohno is going to love it."

Aiba undoes the restraints, his hands gentle on Nino's wrists and ankles, taking a second to massage the creases where Nino has strained against the cuffs. "Look at how red you are," he says, his voice full of wonder.

"You're going to be sore," Jun says, lifting Nino up by his shoulders, careful and strong. "Take care for the next few days, all right?"

Sho unbuckles the gag; it is completely covered in saliva when he takes it from Nino's mouth. It's a sign of how wrecked Nino is that he can't even say anything, just nod, nod and squirm, his body still shaking -

Aiba reaches out to the camera and smiles, his teeth white and the corners of his eyes creasing up. "Happy Birthday, Leader!"

The screen goes black.


Ohno sits on the sofa in his living room while the DVD menu song loops. He's in a daze. It feels dangerous to move, to look around - in one direction is his dining room, where they filmed this, and in the other is the door outside, where he might find Nino. It had gotten dark while he'd been watching, and the glow from the TV only makes it feel more surreal to be sitting there, in his living room, not even twenty feet from where his bandmates had filmed Nino and this machine, Nino and them.

He's so turned on. He'd undone his belt and jeans; he had taken himself out of his pants while he watched - but this wasn't a normal porn that he could watch mindlessly while jerking off. He couldn't look away for long enough to think about his hands.

He has to talk to Nino, to hear his voice.

He stands up. He'd left his cell phone by the door, in his bag. He stands there in the entry, waiting for the call to connect. His phone feels like it might fall out of his hands if he isn't careful.

He hears something ringing inside the apartment. He keeps his cell phone to his ear as he listens to - as he listens to where Nino's ringtone is coming from.

His bedroom door has been shut since he got home. He doesn't normally bother, but he hadn't actually noticed anything strange by the time he'd started the DVD. He can hear the ringtone coming through the door, between the cracks.

He opens the door slowly, silently, and goes into his room. It's dark there, too, only the constant city lights sneaking in through the blinds. Nino is asleep on Ohno's bed, his cell phone lit up and ringing on the bedside table. Ohno cancels the call, and sets his phone down just next to Nino's, like a matched set.

Nino's back moves up and down as he breathes, slowly, in and out. Ohno can't look away. He wants to see more, he can't not see more after witnessing Nino pushed past his limits. Maybe it's creepy, but he tugs the blanket off of Nino, and sits down next to him, and admires the smooth movements of Nino's body, the strange and wonderful curves of his joints. The light from the blinds turns Nino's body into a topographical map. He runs his hand down Nino's side, mild as anything, but with enough pressure that he can feel Nino's muscles underneath his skin. He stops at Nino's ass, rubbing a little, almost massaging; Nino shifts below his hand, moaning in his sleep and blinking awake.

"Yo," Ohno says, his voice low, glancing from Nino's ass to his face, then back again, entranced by the appearance of his own hands feeling everything that was done to Nino, or at least - imagining that he can.

Nino leans up on one hand, yawning and looking down the bed at Ohno. "Like your present?" he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep and harsh from exertion, earlier. Ohno glances at his face again in time to see him wince - he must be so sore.

Ohno watches Nino's face, rubbing his fingers more firmly against Nino's ass, and then along the seam. Nino inhales sharply, not quite a gasp or a whimper but close, so close. Ohno smiles at him. "You're pretty worn out, huh?" He can't stop staring at him, but he wouldn't want to, either.

Nino pushes Ohno's hand away. "Oh-chan, seriously," he says, more awake and sounding a little annoyed, "the video was your present."

Ohno leans close but doesn't actually touch Nino for a moment, just hovers over him. "It was a great present," he says finally, "but I think I'm jealous." He waits there, staring, until Nino turns onto his side a bit, facing Ohno, and then Ohno closes in and wraps one arm around him. Nino helpfully slides his hands up around Ohno's face, then through his hair, until his arms are around Ohno's neck.

"Like you could keep it up for that long," Nino says, his voice rough - rough from just waking up, maybe, or rough from spending all afternoon getting fucked and not being quiet about it at all.

Nino feels hot underneath Ohno's hands, and his skin is a little damp. He must have taken a bath. He's kind of asleep, too. Ohno feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He wants to look at Nino all over, but he wants to touch him more, and he already knows that Nino's asshole is red and edging toward swollen. He knows that from the video. He imagines that if he tried to push his fingers inside, there would be no resistance.

He presses his mouth to Nino's, quick and light. "I'm hard now," he says, and leans in and kisses Nino again.

Nino kisses back, and shudders against him when Ohno slides his free arm down his back. Ohno starts touching him again, holding Nino close with one hand and feeling down his body with the other, sliding his hand between his cheeks again and rubbing his fingers up against that hot spot, his dick pressed against Nino's belly. Nino winces, pulls away from the kiss and tucks his face into the crook of Ohno's neck, his breath hot and unsteady. Ohno wants to stare at him, wants to look at his face until he's sure he knows every twitch and quiver, but it's too dark for that anyway, so instead he closes his eyes and imagines what Nino's face must look like, superimposing the expressions that had stood out most from the DVD, from all the years of knowing Nino and from the few times Nino has let himself be like this for Ohno - for anyone.

He doesn't do much before Nino starts to make tiny, choked-back noises, like he really will let Ohno do whatever he wants, like he'll let Ohno keep touching him and touching him even past what he can bear. Nino's arms tighten around Ohno's neck and relax almost immediately, like he's bracing himself for more.

Ohno's heart feels like it's going to burst. He's so hard and Nino is so hot against him, hot through Ohno's clothes, hot where Ohno touches him, hot in that darkness where Ohno's cock pushes between their bodies.

Ohno stops teasing Nino and pulls back, holding onto his hip instead, feeling the tension thick and jittery in Nino's skin. He kisses Nino's ear because he can reach it, and then pushes Nino backwards until he is flat on the bed and Ohno is halfway on top of him, Nino's arms still around his neck.

He kisses Nino's cheek, listening to him breathe in tiny catches and exhales. He kisses closer to Nino's mouth, and sees Nino open his eyes slowly. "You're such a creep," Nino says.

Ohno nods, and shifts on the sheets to press closer to Nino's hip.

Nino lets his arms fall back to either side of his head and he laughs, worn out but genuinely amused. "Just fucking do it already - whatever you're thinking about."

Ohno nods again, kissing him one more time for good measure, open-mouthed and wet then sits back up and on his knees. Precome has made the head of his cock shiny and slick, but he licks the palm of his hand once anyway, and doesn't look away from Nino while he jerks off. He's been ready since five minutes into the DVD. With Nino lying there, like he's laid his body out for Ohno to look at and appreciate, staring right back at him - it doesn't take long before he comes, inevitable and perfect, striping Nino's soft skin.

He feels spent from just once, and Nino had done it three times.

Nino clears his throat. "Was that what you wanted, Oh-chan?" he asks.

Ohno blinks, feeling vague and sleepy like he always does after coming. He starts to lie down again, getting so far as curling up against Nino's shoulder before Nino chuckles.

"Oh-chan," he says, soft, "you have to clean up first."

Ohno mumbles something into Nino's skin, he's not sure what. He'll totally clean up, though, just. Later. Not now. Now is for sleeping.

"Oh-chan," Nino says, a hint of whine creeping into his tone.

Maybe if Ohno just doesn't respond Nino won't say anything. They don't have to move. They don't have to do anything but lie there together, and sleep, and wake up together the next day.

He feels Nino slip out from under him, but Nino has to wake him up to get him to take off his clothes for real. "Just this time," Nino is saying, "seriously, this is the only time," so Ohno holds his arms up for Nino to pull off his shirt, and lifts his hips up for his pants to come off.

Nino's belly is damp but they're skin to skin finally, curled up together under the sheets. Ohno might be dreaming Nino saying that next time, it would be his turn. His dreams are very, very good.