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When Tsubasa comes to the living room, Takizawa is sitting on the floor, idly leafing through a magazine.

"Well?" Tsubasa asks, impatient. He comes to a stop near the couch, swaying slightly; the heels are too high and spiked and unfamiliar on his feet. "What do you think?"

Takizawa lifts his head and freezes for a second, swallows, and gets back on the couch.

"I think my mom is wrong to still believe you're a shy guy, that's what I think." He is trying to look serious, but the corners of his lips are twitching upwards anyway.

Tsubasa laughs so hard he stumbles. He puts his hands on Takizawa's knees to steady himself, breathing hard. His eyes are still gleaming with laughter when he meets Takizawa's gaze.

"Like it?"

"Very," Takizawa's hand caresses Tsubasa's thigh, slowly playing with the skirt's hem. "This is your 'surprise for the fans'?"

"Mm," Tsubasa nods. "Haven't told Yukio, though," he adds. "I'm only going to do it for a couple of days, anyway."

Now more used to the heels, he takes a step back, taking a look at himself in the mirror. Black top, black fishnets, red skirt barely covering his thighs, black shoes. Tsubasa nods to himself, pleased. When he turns back, Takizawa is already sprawled on the couch, ankles crossed, arms folded under his head. Tsubasa smirks, suddenly hit with an idea.

"Wait here," he says. Takizawa's surprised glance follows him as he walks over to the bedroom, but he doesn't move.

Takizawa's bedroom is clean on the surface; as always, everything's shoved messily into the closet and the wardrobe, but on the outside, the room is spotless. Tsubasa hesitates for a second, trying to remember, then opens a small cabinet near the monstrous round bed. He digs around for some time until his fingers touch a silk sash which he tugs out from the depths of the cabinet.

Takizawa is still lying on the couch when he returns with the sash, but his jeans are unzipped now and he's running his fingers lightly over the thin cotton of his boxers.

"Starting without me again?" Tsubasa smiles and waves the sash in the air. "Take off your shirt... Wait," he changes his mind as Takizawa sits up. "Let me."

The shirt slides off Takizawa in a fluid motion. Tsubasa's chest is an inch away from Takizawa's, hands sliding up his ribs.

"Lie down," Tsubasa says. His voice is rough; he clears his throat and repeats, "Lie down."

Takizawa is very obviously surprised, but complies without asking anything. Tsubasa wraps his fingers around Takizawa's wrists, caressing the skin as much as he can, and then ties the sash around them.

"Don't move." After a couple of tries, he thinks his knot looks good enough.

Takizawa sighs, settling into a more comfortable position on the couch. "I take it you've seen our schedule."

Tsubasa nods. He doesn't really want to talk.

"It's just for two months," Takizawa says softly. Tsubasa shrugs and tries to return to the playfulness of the previous half-hour, almost forcing himself into it. He pushes Takizawa's hands away, over his head. Takizawa grins. "I feel like a king."

"Should I go fetch a fan?" Tsubasa looks the couch over skeptically, shakes off his shoes and sits on Takizawa's thighs, putting one knee between his leg and the couch's backrest. The skirt slides up so much it starts to resemble a wide red belt.

"I'm not big on fanning. What else is on the menu?" Takizawa stretches, oozing relaxed laziness with his every move. Tsubasa narrows his eyes and strokes Takizawa's thigh a couple of times, close to his cock, but not quite, drawing patterns on his jeans and boxers. Takizawa loses his calm expression and Tsubasa grins.

"Anything you want," he murmurs, leaning forward. The stockings feel uncomfortable on his inner thighs. Tsubasa shifts and slides up till their cocks touch.

"Ah--" Takizawa tries to wrap his tied hands around Tsubasa's neck but he slips away, smiling, and pushes Takizawa back on the couch.

"Lay still, mister king."

Takizawa laughs, shivers a little, and Tsubasa closes his eyes in pleasure, arching even more into him.

"I'm thinking about throwing a coat on too." His voice is hoarse, almost slurring, as he bends to lick Takizawa's stomach, nipping at it lightly so no mark would appear. "I'll call her 'Tsubasanta's sister'." Higher, to the nipples, gently taking one in his mouth. Takizawa arches up, and Tsubasa bites down.

"Don't move."

Takizawa's head is thrown back, leaving his throat bare and tempting. Tsubasa succumbs, sliding up Takizawa's chest, tracing his collarbones with his tongue, and sucks on his pulse beating wildly under salty, sweaty skin.

Tsubasa is still in his tanktop.

"You're still in your tanktop," Takizawa says, his voice even lower than usual; the sex voice, husky and demanding.

"You're still in jeans, and I'm not whining about it."

But he's right, actually; the clothes are in the way, Tsubasa thinks, so he gets on his knees to take them off Takizawa. Boxers fly to the floor right after jeans and Tsubasa climbs back, making Takizawa hiss from the sudden touch of rough nylon to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Tsubasa takes the fishnets off then, along with the tanktop and the thong, but leaves the skirt on. It feels a lot better; he tries to get into a more comfortable position, smirking all the while. He can't pull his legs apart as wide because the skirt's hem bites into his thighs when he tries.

Takizawa lets out a slow, ragged breath. "Going to untie me any time soon?"

Tsubasa just shakes his head and smiles, leans to lick his cheekbone, his lips - but doesn't stop for a deeper kiss. His hand travels down Takizawa's chest, coming to rest at his hip.

"Now," he says smugly. "What do I do with you, Takizawa Hideaki-kun?"

"I've got two months of no sex booked for me." Takizawa's words are almost inaudible. He bucks his hips, trying to rub their cocks together. "You can do whatever the hell you want, if you do it *now*."

Tsubasa leans farther down. "I think I can get a ticket to your show." His breath warms Takizawa's ear in fast, uneven puffs as he whispers, causing his partner to shiver and press them together tighter. "See that you get a dressing room all for yourself."

Then he's sliding down in one motion, stroking Takizawa's cock, once, twice, three times - and taking it in his mouth as deep as he can at once. Hmm. He was always good at it.

For some time after, Tsubasa lets himself be lured into pleasure until he catches himself grinding his crotch into the couch. Stopping for a minute, he searches under it. Takizawa looks at him with eyes full of want, he doesn't even try to move anymore; Tsubasa goes back to lazily stroking Takizawa's cock. The skirt still cuts into his skin but he would need to stand to take it off and Tsubasa is not really sure his legs would cooperate.

The condoms are in the same place they tossed them the last time (under the couch), but lube isn't around. Tsubasa clicks his tongue, considers for a moment, and then shrugs, throwing the condoms onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

"You're sure?" Takizawa sounds doubtful.


He doesn't get an answer so he just sucks two fingers into his mouth, staring at Takizawa and rocking back and forth on his hips. Takizawa's hands twitch; Tsubasa grins and takes his fingers out. The air cools warm skin, but not for long - Tsubasa slips both fingers inside himself at once, wincing a little, but he keeps making slow stretching motions. He has to get on his knees to get a better angle, resting his free hand on the couch's backrest, but he never looks away from Takizawa.

It's a couple of minutes before he thinks the show's been going on long enough - Takizawa's eyes are unfocused, his breathing heavy.

Tsubasa takes his fingers out, sitting on Takizawa's cock instead, holding his breath. He can't exhale for a second, and then - Takizawa pushes into him, and again, and Tsubasa finally takes a breath. It's a burning sensation at first, until a wave of pleasure adds to it; Tsubasa digs his heel into the floor to lean more to the right, so Takizawa would hit at another angle--here--Tsubasa shudders, almost howling in low voice, roughly jacking himself off. The red splash of fabric on his hips looks like blood or expensive wine; it digs deep into his skin now, hurting and sure to leave a mark, but that's the last thing to worry Tsubasa right now.

When he's almost ready - almost coming - he feels hands on himself and he laughs breathlessly without opening his eyes.

"Just can't... stay still, can you?" he says in between thrusts, but Takizawa has never been talkative when having sex so instead of answering, he takes Tsubasa's cock in his hands, lightly stroking, almost tickling, from the head down. Then his grip is harder and he moves in fast familiar motions that bring Tsubasa closer and closer to the edge. He shivers, bites his cheek and every gasp is almost a moan, and he's coming, Takizawa thrusting deeply into him at the same time.

Afterwards, he tries to even out his breath, tired, and reaches up, tugging on the sash to untie the knot. When it's undone, Takizawa rubs his arms, yawning. Tsubasa catches his right wrist, squinting at the clock.

"Forty minutes," he says, pleased. "Not so bad, for old men."

Takizawa tries really hard to look scandalized, but his lips trembling with laughter give him away. "Who's an old man? I'm only twenty-six!"

"Not for long," Tsubasa says reassuringly, and winces. "I need a shower, now. What's gotten into me?"

"The Christmas Spirit?" offers Takizawa, earning himself a slap on the hip. "Go take your shower, whiner. This old man wants another round sometime this night."

Tsubasa is at the bathroom's door when he suddenly turns around, smile tugging on his lips.

"So," he says. "Did I mention Tsubasanta's sister is still in middle school?"

He's still laughing a minute later when warm water licks his skin.