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Otani Week Collection

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The front door opened and closed in the hall.

“Ogata?” that voice called.

“In the kitchen, Tanigaki,” he quickly set the cooked rotisserie inside the pan before shoving it in the hot oven.

“Did you order delivery?” he appeared with his shoes off.

“No,” Hyakunosuke met him in the archway. “I cooked tonight,”

Dark eyes regarded him with suspicion, “You used the range for something other than lighting your cigarette?”

“I’m not helpless, Tanigaki,” he spat, arms folded over his chest. “I was your superior officer for two years, and during that time, I handled rations once or twice,”

Laughter accompanied a handsome smile, “You threw bricks of reconstituted food at us and said, Boner Petite,”

“That was years ago,” he returned to the range and shimmied the pan of all-ready seared green beans. “We’re different men now,”

“Are we?” Tanigaki poked a finger into the pot of mashed potatoes and collecting a bit, tasted it. “We still use each other’s last names,”

“Can you wait until I plate the food?”

“Plate the food?” Tanigaki laughed. “Who are you, Chen Kenichi?”

“Set the table please,”

“I don’t know how you did it, Chef Ogata,” Tanigaki teased, place mats and silverware in hand. “But those potatoes taste just like the stuff from the grocery store take-out buffet. I hope you kept the containers because I reuse them,”

That goddamn clever Matagi.

“Please tell me you got Saps,” Tanigaki opened the fridge and snatched up a silver can. “I love roast chicken and beer,”

“Don’t drink out of the can, Tanigaki,” he frowned. “You don’t know who handled it before I did,”

“Is that why you always use a straw when we’re out,”

“I’m not putting my lips on a can from a street vendor,”

“You’ve put your lips on worse things, Ogata,”

“That reminds me, go wash up before we eat,”

“I can take a bath after,”

“Chicken’s not done, Tanigaki,” he took the unopened beer from him. “Please, just go bathe, it’ll be ready when you are,”

“You didn’t cook any of this, Ogata,”

“I bust my ass to feed you tonight and what do I get?” he spread his fingers over his chest. “Derision and distrust. That remark just now really hurt,”

Tanigaki shook his head before disappearing into the washroom.

Alone in the kitchen, Hyakunosuke pulled the vial from his pocket and read the back label.

Bear Baiter Lust Juice: The Secret to Awakening the Mountain Goddess within every Matagi Girl.

The old woman at the chestnut stand on their way to Ani last month assured him this Lust Juice knew no gender.

He tipped a few drops into the gravy and then considered Tanigaki’s height and weight. Bigger than a Matagi girl; this dose wasn’t enough. He poured all of it in, whisking the yellow sauce about until satisfied that it was fully diluted.

They sat across from one another at their small kitchen table, Tanigaki freshly clean.

“Good, you bought the right gravy this time,” he laid the stuff on thick over the poultry and potatoes. “I know western food isn’t your thing, but brown gravy never goes on chicken,”

“Anything for you, Tanigaki,” he smirked.

“Does this taste weird to you?” he asked between bites.

Hyakunosuke sipped his beer, “All western food is weird to me,”

He continued to shovel more into his mouth, “It’s familiar, right?”

“I taste chicken” said Hyakunosuke.

“It’s hot in here,” he stood and pulled his t-shirt off over his head. “Are you hot?”

Hyakunosuke unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and then tossed it to the floor.

“Those A-shirts look good on you,” Tanigaki said, returning to his seat.

“You’re wearing sweats, that’s why you’re overheated,”

He pressed the beer can against his cheek, “I’m hot inside, too,”

“Windows are open,” Hyakunosuke dropped his fork when Tanigaki stood and began untying his jogging pants. “What are you doing?”

“I need to be naked,” he panted. “My clothes feel, too heavy,”

“Should I take off my pants, too?”

“Yeah, I want you naked, Ogata,” he swung his powerful arm, sending their full plates and beer to the floor.

On all fours, he climbed onto the table and crawled to him. He hooked his hand around Hyakunosuke’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Tanigaki’s lips tasted of cold beer and chicken.

Without warning, he slid off the table and mounted Hyakunosuke’s lap. He was warm skin skin, firm lips, and wanton hands. The hairs on his chest smelled of soap and his ass wouldn’t stop gyrating under Hyakunosuke’s grip.

He fell back onto the table with his legs parted, touching himself as Hyakunosuke struggled with his own zipper.

“I need you, Ogata,” he begged. “I need you in me,”

Hyakunosuke’s fingers pressed between his lover’s buttocks and found the flesh within slick and pliable.

“I’m so wet for you,

“Tell me what you want, Tanigaki,”

“Put it in me, please,”

“Beg me, Tanigaki,”

“Please, Ogata, jerk me off and put it in me, please,”

There wasn’t time for his logical mind to process the biological impossibility of Tanigaki’s physical response. Cloying tightness came after slipping into him. It was so easy and felt so good, just like that thick hard-on in his hand.

Each shove brought a pleasured cry from Tanigaki who grasped the sides of the table for support until his knuckles went white.

Leg upon his shoulder, Hyakunosuke hugged that hairy thigh tight while speedily working the man’s sex and pounding into him.

Tanigaki inhaled sharply, bit his bottom lip and tensed as if struck by lightning. His completion came in fits and starts, sending a line across his stomach and filling his navel. Flesh tightened around Hyakunosuke’s manhood, milking it dry until there was no energy left for him to stand.

Finished, he peeled himself off and fell winded into his chair.

Tanigaki sat up and looked down on him, a smug look on his face.

“Those lube suppositories that you said wouldn’t work,” he licked his lips and through half-lidded eyes, smiled. “Now we know they work,”

“What are you talking about, Tanigaki?”

“There’s no such thing as Lust Juice,” he fixed a gentle foot to Hyakunosuke’s chest. “Old Matagi women sell it to horny tourists, it’s just tap water with some lemon,”

“You’re a terrible liar, Tanigaki,”

“Maybe,” he kissed him on the forehead before drifting to the washroom. “Let’s wash up and you can try and prove me wrong,”

The goddamn clever Matagi.

 

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