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“Uru, I said I was sorry.”
The scowl on Uruha’s face only deepens as he stares at the pitiful man in front of him, with his head hung low and long strands of black hair falling over his shoulders and obscuring his face.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it, Aoi.”
“I know,” Aoi rushes to clarify. “It was an accident, really. Look—I could go down to the convenience store right now and buy you a six-pack to replace it!”
“I don’t care about replacing it, it’s too late anyway,” Uruha sighs heavily, leaning back against the kitchen counter in their shared apartment with his arms folded.
It’s been fourteen hours since The Incident, but it’s still as fresh in Uruha’s mind as if it happened fourteen minutes ago.
The adrenaline after another successful concert courses through his veins as he sprawls on the floor backstage, damp towel tucked under his neck. Uruha exhales a content, satisfied breath and heaves himself up into a sitting position.
There’s only one thing he wants after an incredible performance like that.
Uruha steps over an equally exhausted, yet pleased, Reita – laying on the floor covered in cold towels – as he makes his way to the vending machine in the hallway. He’d spotted it earlier on his way to get his makeup and hair done, and one particular drink had caught his eye.
Suntory Highball. An old favourite. A classic.
The perfect congratulatory drink.
The can drops into the tray with a satisfying ‘thunk’, and Uruha chuckles to himself when he sees the “sold out” label light up. Lucky last.
Unable to stop himself, he cracks the can open and takes a few generous gulps, chugging like he’s been stuck in a desert for months. It’s just as perfect as he’d imagined.
Stepping back over Reita, Uruha realises nature is calling and sets the can down, eager to return to the delicious drink once he gets back from the bathroom.
If only he’d known.
When Uruha walks back into the room, the first thing he sees is Aoi finishing off a cigarette, eyes scanning the area – presumably for an ashtray. Uruha is about to tell Aoi that it’s right behind him when the other guitarist does the unthinkable.
Aoi stubs his cigarette out on the surface of his Highball can.
And then he drops the crushed remains inside.
Uruha watches, frozen in shock and quickly rising anger, as Aoi grabs the can and lifts it off the table, likely expecting it to be empty.
Aoi’s own body freezes when it clicks that he’s just put his cigarette in an unfinished – barely even touched – drink.
And not just any drink.
Uruha’s.
Sensing his presence – fight or flight activated – Aoi whips around and sees Uruha standing in the doorway, visibly livid.
“Uru—shit, I’m sorry! I thought it was empty,” he hastily explains, stumbling over his words as he realises the gravity of the situation, painted so clearly on Uruha’s face.
Reita, sensing a shift in the room’s atmosphere, lifts the wet towel off his face to investigate. Seeing the unbridled rage bubbling in his childhood best friend, he gets to his feet in record speed. “Gonna go find the others!” he yells quickly, words almost strung together as he rushes to get out of the room unharmed.
“I can go get you another one,” Aoi offers somewhat slowly, treading carefully as if he’s approaching a dangerous wild animal.
“No, you can’t,” Uruha says firmly through gritted teeth, restrained anger threatening to break free at any moment. “That was the last one in the machine.”
Aoi pales.
Aware that there are still plenty of staff members around, and that Kai will likely tear him a new one if he does anything to make them look unprofessional or impolite, Uruha merely turns on his heel and briskly walks out of the room.
The remainder of the night is uncomfortable for everyone. Uruha’s rage doesn’t quiet, merely sits deep in his chest and waits for someone to poke at him hard enough for him to snap. The rest of the band knows better.
Kai watches him like a hawk, prepared to jump if Uruha explodes. Reita avoids eye contact and jabs Ruki in the side whenever it looks like their conniving little vocalist is going to do something to fan the flames. Aoi is the quietest he’s ever been, clearly at war in his head over his mistake and how he’s going to fix this.
The van drops them off at their shared apartment first. Uruha rushes to bed without saying a word.
Aoi looks just as sorry today as he did last night. Moreso, even, considering Uruha didn’t even say goodnight to him when they’d gotten home.
“I’ll be more careful next time, hell, I’ll buy every single one of your post-concert drinks for the rest of time,” Aoi insists. “I just hate when you’re mad at me and I wanna make it up to you.”
Uruha raises a challenging eyebrow.
“Well buying my drinks is a start, but I’ve got something else in mind.”
Aoi perks up immediately. “What is it? I’ll do it, promise.”
How naïve.
“Come on then,” Uruha pushes himself away from the kitchen counter and leads Aoi into their bedroom, beelining to the drawer where they keep all their sex toys.
“Oh, this isn’t what I was expecting,” Aoi all but purrs, watching Uruha with interest. “You wanna use a toy on me? I was expecting a harsher punishment if I’m honest.”
Uruha only hums in response, carefully concealing his true agenda. Aoi’s smug smirk is infuriating to look at after what he did, but the lead guitarist knows it won’t be on his face for long.
“This one,” Uruha decides, unearthing a small, black butt plug – in his other hand, the device’s remote. “You want me to prep you first?”
“After what I did?” Aoi’s eyes widen as he dramatically presses a hand over his chest. “I don’t deserve that, Uru. Let me give you a show.”
Uruha leans back against the chest of drawers, silently watching Aoi unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs. He passes by the other man on his way to the bedside table, easily locating the opened bottle of lube and tossing it to Aoi as the black-haired man gets on his knees on top of the covers.
“The best view is probably right behind me, babe,” Aoi croons in a low tone, coating his fingers in lubricant before looking up at Uruha with a filthy smirk. “But you can watch from anywhere. I’ll make sure you get a good performance.”
Uruha perches on the seat in the corner of the room, watching the man in front of him with a neutral expression, toy and remote in hand. Aoi drops to his elbows and spreads his knees slightly further apart, hand brushing past his hardening cock and curling upwards between his thighs to press against his entrance.
“The lube’s cold,” he whines playfully, sliding one finger in and pulling out, setting a steady rhythm. Aoi’s gaze finds Uruha’s easily, his eyes dark with arousal. Uruha raises an eyebrow.
“You expect me to believe you need to spend this much time on only one finger? I thought you said you’d give me a show.”
Aoi bites his lip, so painfully weak for Uruha, but especially when he scolds and challenges him like this. “You’re right,” he breathes raggedly, adding a second finger. “Fuck, Uru, I know the toy is going to feel good, but I wish I could ride you instead.”
“Maybe later,” Uruha dismisses easily, getting to his feet. He steps up behind Aoi’s arched form and runs his fingernails bluntly down Aoi’s spine, silently revelling in the way Aoi mewls in response. Aoi whines quietly when Uruha removes his fingers, quickly gasping when he feels the plug sliding in instead.
“Comfortable?” Uruha asks, adjusting the plug slightly.
“Y-Yes, you can turn it on now.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
While Aoi is looking away, Uruha lets a faint smirk grace his lips. He turns the plug on and fiddles with the remote, leaving it on a low setting.
“How’s that?”
“Mm, good,” Aoi hums, swaying his hips slightly as he gets used to the feeling.
“Great!”
And with that, Uruha lifts Aoi’s underwear and pants back up over his ass. “Fix yourself up, we’re going grocery shopping.”
Aoi looks back at him so quickly Uruha winces in sympathy, concerned the movement might have pulled a muscle. “What?”
“I said we’re going shopping. Come on,” tauntingly, he waggles the plug remote still in his hand. “And this is coming with us.”
“Oh fuck,” Aoi whispers miserably.
~*~
“Our fridge is pretty full, what groceries do we need to get anyway?”
Aoi eyes Uruha suspiciously as they walk side by side down the savoury snacks aisle, packets of chips on their left and biscuits on their right. Despite the intrusion currently nestled in his asshole, Aoi is doing everything to keep it under wraps and walk normally. The butt plug remote is nestled snugly in Uruha’s semi-closed hand, small and discreet and barely visible.
But its presence is all Aoi can think about.
“The others are coming over tonight, remember? Kai wants to do a movie night, and our lounge room is the only one big enough to comfortably sit five people. We need beer and snacks. I think I’ve got everything at home to make dinner.”
Ah, he’d forgotten all about it after the events of the morning.
“So, a quick trip, then!” Aoi exclaims hopefully, voice entirely too eager. He ignores Uruha’s raised brow and turns away, already making a grab for consommé flavoured chips.
“Can you get the corn flavoured ones up higher too? Reita likes those,” Uruha requests. Foolishly, Aoi acquiesces to the seemingly innocent request immediately.
Just as his fingers brush the bag, the gentle vibration of the plug increases significantly, sending him crumpling to the floor and only just managing to silence his moan with a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Eyes squeezed shut, Aoi stays curled up as he tries to adjust to the sudden shot of pleasure coursing straight to his dick.
“What is it?” Uruha asks innocently, resting a hand on his shoulder. His voice rises in volume suddenly. “Are you still having stomach pains? We’ll get some constipation medicine on the way home.”
Aoi glances up to see a mother and child about to approach, the two staring at him with blatant discomfort before deciding to skip this aisle and come back later. He looks up to see a smug, triumphant smirk on Uruha’s face.
“You’re evil,” he hisses.
“Careful~” Uruha singsongs, waving the remote in his hand. “I’m still in control here.”
The vibration of the plug is lowered back down to a manageable level and Aoi stands up straight again, breathing still shaky. He snatches the corn-flavoured chip packet off the shelf and throws it unceremoniously into their basket.
Aoi spends most of the grocery shopping glancing suspiciously at Uruha, especially when the other man asks him to collect something. Uruha uses the remote like a master manipulator, increasing the vibration’s intensity infrequently, without rhythm or pattern, making it even harder for Aoi to predict. Still, he becomes somewhat impressed with himself after a while, getting better at controlling his body’s reaction whenever Uruha tries to catch him out.
Just as they’re about to head to the register, Uruha stops. “Ah, actually, we need more mandarin oranges, I forgot.”
Aoi sighs, glancing back at the registers – his salvation – forlornly as he follows Uruha to the fruit section.
Uruha, who is entirely too picky about mandarin oranges – “the smaller ones taste better, trust me” – zones out while inspecting the ones the supermarket has on offer. Aoi, knowing from experience how long this can take, busies himself by examining the apples nearby.
Just as he goes to pick one up, the force of the toy in his ass suddenly increases to a level so high it has Aoi crying out and slumping over the apples display. The erratic movement of his arms sends a few apples toppling to the floor and rolling away. Nearby shoppers jump and turn to look at the source of the sudden yelling. Aoi whines from embarrassment and ducks his head, hiding behind the display.
“What is wrong with you today?” Uruha scolds as he walks over, bag of mandarin oranges in hand. “Well, we’ll have to buy the apples you dropped, so pick them up.”
Aoi looks up at him pleadingly, the powerful sensations setting his whole body alight. It feels like every hair he has is standing to attention. “Uru,” he appeals pathetically.
Uruha rolls his eyes and turns the plug back down, crouching down so he’s face-to-face with Aoi. “You’ll think twice about putting your cigarette ashes in drinks now, won’t you?”
Aoi swallows, nodding seriously. “Yes, God yes.”
Uruha shoots him a sweet smile. “Good, then pick up the apples and we can go.”
~*~
Aoi dumps the groceries onto the kitchen counter with a loud, relieved sigh. The front of his pants is uncomfortably tight.
“That was torture,” he declares. “But I know I deserved it.”
Uruha presses a soft kiss to the side of his head before giggling. “The faces on that mother and her kid – totally priceless.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you found it funny,” Aoi pouts.
Suddenly, a knock on the door.
Aoi’s eyes widen, body frozen as he stands in the kitchen while Uruha goes to answer.
“Uru! We’re early, that’s okay right?”
Reita. Aoi can hear Ruki and Kai, too.
“Oh fuck,” he whispers.
Uruha re-emerges from the front hallway, looking at Aoi with a semi-apologetic look as their guests trudge in behind him. “Oh, Aoi’s still alive?” Ruki jokes, “Guess I don’t need to advertise for a new rhythm guitarist after all.”
“Ha-ha,” Aoi answers, petulantly poking his tongue out at their smartass vocalist. “Go get set up in the lounge, we’ll bring the beer and snacks over.”
Aoi watches as the rest of the band wanders over to the lounge, chatting animatedly about the movies Kai has brought for everyone to watch.
“Uru,” Aoi whispers, turning to the other man, “Please let me go and take it out.”
“I mean, you can,” Uruha begins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he leans closer to whisper in Aoi’s ear. “Or… you can leave it in until they leave and get a big reward after for being such a good boy.”
“What kind of reward?” Aoi frowns, suspicious.
“I’ll let you do whatever you want to my body for the rest of the night, and I’ll do whatever you want me to do to yours.”
Uruha’s promise, paired with his low, velvet-y voice, flies straight to Aoi’s arousal, his pants constricting even more. Thank God these jeans are too tight to pitch any kind of tent. “Done,” he agrees.
Uruha grins brightly at him, pleased with the other man’s decision. “Good answer. Let’s go be good hosts then, hm?”
~*~
Uruha yawns as the credits of the second movie begin to roll on screen, his head resting on the cushion Aoi placed over his lap as they sit on the floor together, their guests occupying the couch. “That one was better than the first movie you showed us,” he praises, directed to Kai.
“That’s not a hard thing to do,” Reita comments, getting out of his seat to remove the DVD from the player. “Where do you find these movies?”
Kai shrugs. “There’s some fun forums online about underrated movies, I keep seeing these ones mentioned everywhere and wanted to see what they’re like. Thought we could get some band inspiration from them too, or something.”
“One of us is really inspired,” Aoi observes, nodding his head in the direction of Ruki, fast asleep on the arm of the couch. “Is he like this when you ask him to watch movies with you, Reita?”
“Yep, which is why I stopped asking. Maybe if he wasn’t such a night owl he’d be able to stay awake during the day.”
Uruha sits up quickly, grabbing the cushion from Aoi’s lap and hurtling it across the room to smack Ruki in the face. “Wake up! I’ve drawn all over you.”
“You better fucking not have,” the vocalist grumbles, eyes flying open to glare in Uruha’s direction. The lead guitarist only laughs and grins in response.
“Can we grab more beer before we start the next one?” Reita asks, the next movie’s DVD case in hand.
“Sure – Aoi, can you bring some in?” Uruha turns to his lover with a sweet smile, watching closely as Aoi gets to his feet and walks over to the kitchen. “Hey, Kai,” Uruha whispers once Aoi is out of earshot, pulling the plug’s remote out of his pocket. “Use this and see what it does.”
Puzzled, Kai takes the small black remote from Uruha and examines it in silence, fingers tracing the symbols over the buttons. He presses down on the ‘plus’ symbol and turns the device up to full power, looking around for any changes in their environment.
Suddenly, Aoi cries out and drops to the floor in the kitchen, disappearing from everyone’s view as he sinks behind the counter.
“Wait, give it here,” Ruki requests, taking the remote from Kai’s hand and turning the device back down. They can all hear Aoi whining and mumbling incoherently in the kitchen.
“This looks familiar,” the vocalist hums. “Hey, Aoi, what’s the hold up with the beer?”
Tense fingers grip the kitchen counter before Aoi rises to his feet again. “Nothing! Sorry,” he says shakily. “Do we need more snaaAAaAAAA—”
Ruki howls with laughter, Aoi’s exclamation in time with his finger holding the ‘plus’ button down. “Oh my God, I knew it. Rei and I have one of these too.”
“What is it?” Kai asks innocently, still a few steps behind everyone else.
“This is the butt plug one, isn’t it?” Reita asks, looking at the remote in Ruki’s hand. “Wait, we’ve been here for hours – has Aoi had it in this whole time?”
“And when we went grocery shopping,” Uruha grins proudly.
“Fuck,” Reita exhales, eyebrows raised. “You really are evil.”
“So I keep being told,” Uruha huffs, grabbing the remote from Ruki. “This is what he gets for trashing my drink.” He turns to the kitchen then. “Won’t do it again, will you baby?”
“No…” Aoi whines pathetically, hunched over the counter with his forehead pressed against the surface.
“I think he’s suffered enough,” Kai reasons, ever the diplomatic one. “We should go and let you guys, er, sort this out in private.”
“Oh please, like they don’t grope and make out with each other in front of us all the time,” Ruki rolls his eyes. “Especially when we put them in the back of the van together.”
“Any other time I’d let you watch,” Uruha winks, “but Kai is right, Aoi has been on his best behaviour today and I think he’s learned his lesson. Let’s watch the rest of the movies another time.”
“Thanks for the suggestion for next time Reita upsets me,” Ruki grins, a merciless look in his eye as he glances at his boyfriend.
Reita shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Won’t be up to you when it happens.”
“Take the rest of the beer with you, we can get more from the conbini down the street if we need it,” Uruha offers, guiding the rest of the band out. Aoi is still hunched over the counter, ears bright red from embarrassment. Kai pats his head sympathetically on the way out.
“Bye Aoi, hope the orgasm after we leave is worth it!” Reita calls out from the entryway, laughing with the others as they step outside. Uruha says goodbye on behalf of both of them and closes the door.
“Uruhaaaa,” Aoi whines, finally lifting himself off the counter. “I thought my punishment was over after the grocery shopping.”
“Sorry baby, it was too good to resist,” Uruha chuckles, wrapping his arms around the other man with a gentle smile. “It’s almost dinner time, why don’t you go remove the plug while I start cooking?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Aoi asks incredulously, staring at Uruha with wide eyes. “Fuck cooking, we’ll order takeout later. There’s urgent business to get to.”
“Ah, of course,” Uruha smirks, pressing their crotches together and sliding one hand down to the curve of Aoi’s ass. “Your reward.”
“Yes, my reward, I’m going to clean up the lounge first, but you need to go into the bedroom and take all your clothes off, now,” Aoi orders.
Uruha laughs and nods obediently, pulling away to do just that. “Wait,” Aoi calls, spinning the other man around and plucking the remote out of his hand. “I’m taking this, I know better than to leave it with you any longer.”
Uruha pokes his tongue out cheekily. “You loved it. Don’t keep me waiting too long in there or I might make you do it again, during a live next time.”