Five Times Naruse Tried to Seduce Dai + One Time He Didn’t Have To
Ryo Naruse/Dai Kawatori Pink and Gray 6400~ words. NSFW.
What it says on the tin. Five times Ryo Naruse tried to seduce Dai Kawatori and the one time he didn’t have to try. Very NSFW. Canon divergent.
Ryo Naruse had never had a face to go with the name Rengo Shiraki mumbled beneath his breath when the alcohol had gone to his head and the touch of a beautiful woman was no longer enough to distract him. Dai Kawatori, he’d said when Naruse asked, fingers twisting tight in the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him across the couch between them. My Riba-chan…
When the invitation had come in the mail signed Dai Kawatori, Naruse poked around for answers.
It had taken his agent less than twenty-four hours to deliver an envelope to him personally.
The information was concise and clear, a failed actor who had been tossed into the public eye when Shiraki committed suicide, innocent and doe-eyed in the bright camera flashes.
The pretty face, the softly curling black hair, the wide, wide haunted dark eyes of a man who had seen too much too quickly in life… Naruse had been intrigued. And though he hardly considered himself to be a friend of Rengo Shiraki, he agreed to come to the funeral just the same.
How would he explain not coming, after all? The public eye thought they were close friends instead of drinking buddies who became just slightly more when Shiraki needed it.
Less than overcome with emotion and more than curious to learn more about the late Shiraki’s supposed childhood best friend, Naruse allows himself to be the comforting shoulder he knows Dai needs in a time like this. He looks lost at the wake, gaunt and paler than his headshots had shown in the all-black attire he’s worn. So Naruse sidles up to him, pats him on the back.
It would be almost too easy, he knows. The more time passes, the more Dai drinks until his hands tremble too much to hold tight enough to a glass. And Naruse stays by his side, plying him with stories of his friendship with Shiraki, brushing his hand against the small of his back, his fingers along one artistic cheekbone, until Dai blinks at him and flushes and looks away.
Instead, Naruse tucks him into a cab and sends him to his apartment for the evening.
He isn’t too surprised that this is the man Shiraki had adored so much until the very end.
“He talked about you a lot, you know. I think he must have missed you terribly,” Naruse says.
The club is an exclusive one in this city, and he has Dai alone at a booth with him, putting the alcohol on his tab. The two of them have grown closer in the few weeks since the funeral.
Dai hums, not looking up from his glass. “I don’t really know much about that.”
“I do, though.” Naruse stretches out a hand to squeeze Dai’s. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
He can understand why Dai had caught the eye of the same agency that first snapped up Shiraki now that he can see him in this ambient lighting. In his slightly too big sweater, his face slightly strained, his elegant fingers wrapped around his glass… Dai Kawatori is a beautiful man.
“He had everything he could ever want in the world, so I’m not sure why he would have missed me of all people. Sally, I could understand.” Dai smiles wistfully, takes a sip of his beer.
“You didn’t know the same man that I knew,” Naruse says easily, and it’s true. Three years is a long time, and people change quickly in their business. “He talked about you all the time.”
Dai shakes his head. “It’s probably not a big deal. We were close, I mean. That’s all.”
“Riba-chan is so handsome and talented, I wish we could have been in a movie together.” Naruse sing-songs the words, watches Dai’s face flush scarlet. “He had such a pretty smile and a—”
Whining, Dai ducks his head, splaying one hand across his face, shaking his head firmly. “Stop, stop, I’ve heard enough.” He peeks through his fingers, and Naruse smiles. “I get it.”
“He had a very good life, your Rengo,” Naruse muses, lifting his own wine glass to his lips, watching Dai over the brim of it, “but I think I lucked out, getting to know you, Dai.”
When Dai drops his hand, he swallows so hard that his Adam’s apple strains, and Naruse wonders what it would be like to trace over the shape of that with the tip of his tongue.
But yet again, he sends Dai home and tells himself he needs to behave.
Dai has a way with words, and he guides the production team with ease and confidence.
Naruse has a copy of the script at his knee and Dai’s novel Pink and Gray splayed across his lap, a drink within reach while he watches Dai and Rei Mikami discuss a particular scene.
He isn’t sure why he said yes when Dai asked him to play “Daiki Kawada.”
The request had been sprinkled into one of their many nightly conversations, Dai fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater and refusing to make eye contact until Naruse tipped his chin up.
“Of course, Dai.” He smiled, giving Dai’s chin a small squeeze with his fingers. “I’d be glad to.”
The press has been nothing but positive with the public buzzing about the friendship blooming between them, chalked up to the fact that he had been friends with Shiraki first.
Naruse never bothers to inform people that he was the last person that Shiraki would want around Dai because of the sheer fact he knew all of the secret fantasies Shiraki had about the other man. He knows too much, and managed to sidle up closer to Dai in the near year since Shiraki’s death than the two of them had been in the three years leading up to Shiraki’s suicide.
His slow seduction has been more carefully developed than this film could ever be.
He has never been a fan of the overly dramatic and wrought angst that Dai inspires with his novel and with his every decision in terms of dialogue and lighting, but Naruse can respect it enough to bite his tongue. After all, Dai only wants to leave something lasting in memory of Rengo.
“Comfortable?” The voice of the man who has been occupying his thoughts interrupts him.
Naruse tilts his head back, blows his bangs up and out of his eyes. “I am. You look so handsome.”
The suit jacket, the turtleneck, the glasses. Dai blushes and lowers his eyes. “You’re too much.”
“I’m serious. Very handsome. Come here, sit with me.” Naruse pats the empty chair next to him and Dai sits down without hesitating, biting at the corner of his lower lip. “Ah, you look so much nicer in turtlenecks than Shiraki ever did. He would be jealous, I think. You look so good.”
Dai laughs and tips his head back, and Naruse eyes the long, lean stretch of his throat defined by the heavy black cuff of fabric protecting his skin. If he had a bruise on his skin, it would be invisible. “Why do you say things like this, Narucchi? He’s been gone for so long now.”
Naruse’s lips stretch up at the nickname, carefully sprinkled into their conversations as if Dai is afraid of what he will say about it. “You’re right,” he says, leaning over to squeeze Dai’s shoulder, sliding his hand across his shoulder blades and watching Dai shiver. “But you are gorgeous.”
“Mm.” Dai relaxes, his eyes soft and warm behind his glasses. “I could almost believe you.”
“You should believe me. I have no reason to lie to you, Dai.” Naruse runs his hand down the side of Dai’s face, brushes his thumb over that soft lower lip just once, as lightly as possible, before leaning back and out of Dai’s personal space. “Can you sing for the bedroom scene, then?”
Dai blinks at him, pupils blown, cheeks slightly flushed. “W-what?” he asks softly.
“The bedroom scene.” Naruse taps the page his script is open to, cocking his head. “I’ve never heard you sing before, you know. I didn’t know it was one of your many talents.”
“You’re ridiculous. Yes, I can sing. If you’re really that impatient to see, I can always show you before we have to film the scene.” Dai’s voice falters, his cheeks darkening once again.
Naruse could have fucked him in his trailer while he sat and listened to him sing. He didn’t.
Dai likes his sweaters. Overly big on his slender frame, the sleeves always trying to hide his fingers from view. Even the few t-shirts that Naruse has been privileged to see him in (privileged, he thinks, turning the word around in his head) have been too big, too soft.
This afternoon is no different. Naruse invited him over for lunch during a short break in filming so they can all get some much-needed sleep and prepare for the emotional scenes to come, to wrap filming up once and for all. Pink and Gray has been an interesting venture to add to his resume, but otherwise Naruse has thought little about the film itself. Instead, his brain has been focused on the young man he shares the screen with, who comes out of his shell a little more each day.
But this afternoon, he has Dai all to himself, and he smirks to himself when he thinks about how Mikami would be pissed if she found out about this. Curled up on the window seat overlooking the city, a mug of hot chocolate cupped in his palms, Dai is quiet, staring out the window. Naruse sits in his favorite chair, feet propped up on the coffee table, and stares at Dai.
“Do you think he loved me?” Dai finally asks, not tearing his gaze away from the window, and the question throws Naruse off enough that he almost chokes on a sip of hot tea.
“Who?” he asks, confused, but his mind makes the connection before he fully realizes it.
“Gocchi.” Dai is quiet as he sets his hot chocolate on the small side table beside the window, drawing his knees up to his chest. “You said he talked about me a lot. I was just…”
Anyone else would have been annoyed by that question, especially when Naruse has been on the verge of tearing his hair out at the roots over this man for weeks. “He did talk about you a lot.”
“He reached out to me that night, you know. He wanted me to be the one who found him. The note was to me. He planned this. I just wonder if…” Dai trails off, resting his chin on his knees.
Naruse’s words are, for the first time in a long time, tentative. “You were important to him.”
“I wish I’d known. I wish we’d gotten to have that drink. I wish…” Dai inhales slowly, exhales slowly. His voice is watery when he speaks. “I wish he was here with us now.”
This is different. Dai has spoken about Shiraki in a halting, trembling voice prior to now, but as time has passed and the movie filming went on, he was able to speak about him in firmer, more absolute tones. It’s the first time that Naruse has seen this side of him in months.
He pushes himself out of his chair and crosses the room in quick strides, ignoring the opened bit of window seat in favor of leaning against Dai himself, wrapping his arms around those slender but strong shoulders, pulling Dai against his chest. The way Dai’s fingers fumble for purchase in Naruse’s shirt, the way he presses his face against Naruse’s chest like an animal starved of affection looking for positive affection… It reminds him of Shiraki, but he doesn’t say that out loud.
Maybe his odd fascination with the man clinging to him is the reason he offers himself like this, offers himself for comfort even though he spares very little thought for those around him most of the time. When Dai looks up at him, his face too open and vulnerable, his lips trembling, tears making the deep brown of his eyes glossier, Naruse strokes his cheek, watches his eyes close.
He’s moving before he thinks about it, cupping Dai’s chin, holding his face at the perfect angle so he can brush a slow, easy, warm kiss against Dai’s chapped, cool lips. He can taste the faint hint of chocolate on his tongue, and he can feel the precise moment when Dai melts against him.
“I don’t regret what happened,” Naruse tells him. “That’s how I got to meet you, after all.”
There’s something particular broken in Dai’s eyes at those words, and Naruse reminds himself that Dai honestly believed he and Shiraki were close, so for him to say something like that…
When Dai smiles, it’s soft and sad and self-depreciating. “I don’t think I’m that special, actually.”
There are ways to convince him otherwise, that much Naruse knows. But when he tucks an exhausted and emotionally spent Dai into his bed, he doesn’t let himself join him.
They wrap filming up with the discovery of Shiraki’s limp body hanging from the ceiling of his apartment, and though Dai swears he is fine, Naruse still spirits him away. No one from their respective talent agencies argue; even they must understand the gravity of this moment.
He rarely drives himself anywhere anymore, can afford drivers to do it for him and enjoys lounging lazily in the backseat of expensive cars far too much to want to slip behind the wheel again. But he wants them to be alone, so he waves his driver off and buckles Dai into the passenger seat.
“I’m tired,” Dai tells him, and his voice is hoarse and broken and empty as he leans his head against the window of the car. “I’m glad filming is over. All I want to do is sleep.”
“You need to eat first, and maybe have a shower, and then you can sleep as much as you want. I’ll even make you a deal.” Naruse turns to him at a red light, making sure Dai’s dark eyes are locked with his. “I’ll make you dinner while you shower. You can sleep at my place tonight.”
He knows how dangerous of an offer this is, of course. There is a distinctive difference between Dai taking naps in his bed on occasion and the two of them sharing the mattress for the night, but Naruse is selfish. He knows Dai inside and out, possibly even better than the real Sally does now, having offered his shoulder for Dai to lean on and cry on as needed for well over a year now. He doesn’t want to send Dai home to her when Dai is this wrung out and hollow.
Dai licks his dry lips and Naruse bites down on his tongue at the sight, the familiar buzz of need distinct beneath his skin. Ever since that kiss over a month ago, he has behaved himself as much as he can, but he knows both of them are nearing their breaking point and he knows he’s been veering on the edge of his for far too long now. He’s thought about seducing Dai Kawatori since meeting him at Shiraki’s funeral, and he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out.
He’s starting to wonder if a single night with Dai’s legs around his waist will be enough for him.
“Okay,” Dai finally says, letting his eyes fall closed, “but I’m going to take a nap on the drive. I don’t think Sally expected me back home this early from filming anyway.”
Naruse leans over to brush his fingers along Dai’s cheek. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”
By the time they reach his apartment, Dai has fallen into a semi-deep slumber, a few half-mumbled words leaving his lips along the way. Naruse smiles at the sounds and shakes his head, not having expected Dai to trip any part of him that would find this display at all cute. Gently, he leans over and gives Dai’s shoulder a shake, watching his dark lashes flutter as he wakes up.
“We’re here,” he informs him, smiling when Dai yawns and stretches his neck. “Let’s go up.”
He makes Dai a sandwich while he showers, stealing a few chips from the bag; he knows Dai likes these, had found a certain fondness for them himself as they spent time together.
When Dai returns from the shower, he’s wrapped in nothing but a towel. “About clothes…”
“On the chest at the end of my bed. Get dressed and come eat. I’m going to hop in the shower while you do, and then we can go to bed. Sound like a plan?” Naruse asks.
By the time he returns from his shower, Dai has only picked at his sandwich; he doesn’t begin eating in earnest until Naruse sits down with one of his own. Clearly, he was waiting. Naruse rolls his eyes, exasperated, but runs his fingers through Dai’s hair just the same.
He’s a close sleeper, a cuddler by nature, nuzzling against Naruse’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his torso, and Naruse grabs him by the waist to pull him even closer. Their bodies fit perfectly together beneath the blanket, even with the clothes.
That night, he doesn’t explore if they still fit together without the clothes. Not yet.
The night Dai shows up at his front door, Naruse isn’t expecting him. They’ve had their fun promoting the movie, but Dai had resolved to finally spend some time with Sally, so when Naruse opens the door to the sight of Dai with one bag hanging from his shoulder and one in each hand, he’s surprised. He’d been watching a recent movie before bed, preparing for what he assumed would be another sleepless night. Things haven’t been well since the night they shared his bed.
“I know I should have called you first but it just kind of settled in and I didn’t even know where I was going when I called the taxi. I’m…” Dai trails off, chewing on that pretty lower lip so hard Naruse is surprised there isn’t blood trickling down his chin, smeared on his teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Naruse’s voice is low and husky; he’d been on the edge of dozing off on the couch but he’s much more awake as he steps back to let Dai inside. “You knew you could come here.”
“I guess I did.” Dai sets his bags down on the floor, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie while Naruse locks the door up for the night. His eyes are fixed firmly on his sleep.
Naruse has never asked about her directly before, except when he wanted to meet her at the movie premiere, but now he breaks his own rule. “Did something happen with Sally-san?”
“We got into an argument. We’ve been arguing a lot recently, ever since Gocchi…” He trails off again, but Naruse can fill in the sentence for himself. Ever since Shiraki had died, his two best friends had been fighting. “But I think this was the last straw for both of us. I don’t think… I mean, she didn’t throw me out, but I… I couldn’t stay there anymore. Not in that place. I just—”
“I understand. You don’t have to stay there, you know that. My home is always open to you.” Naruse doesn’t know what to say beyond that; it’s taken a few minutes but it’s really starting to settle in that Dai had run to him in the middle of the night after breaking up with his girlfriend.
“He asked me to take care of her, you know. I know you know, I showed you the letter he wrote me when he…” Dai shakes his head hard, his expression fierce for just a moment as he speaks. “But I don’t have to do what he says! I don’t owe him anything. He was gone for three years and then he did that to me, made me walk in on that, and he’s… He’s dead. He’s gone forever.”
Naruse doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods as he stands in front of Dai. What could he say to that, anyway? He’s been the one who’s always said that Shiraki is dead and gone.
“And I don’t want to live for him anymore. I don’t owe him that. I don’t owe him anything. He was the one who pushed me into the spotlight, and I didn’t… I was drunk, you know, I had no idea what he was saying at the time.” Dai’s voice is lifting in volume, his tone harsh and angry.
“I told you a long time ago I didn’t regret him dying because I was able to meet you.” Naruse keeps his voice low and even and he sees Dai’s eyes widen, sees the anger begin to drain from them. The words must offer him an anchor back down from his cloud of rage. “I only regret you felt you had to do all of this for him. You should have been able to live your own life.”
“Well, I’m going to now. I already told my agency I didn’t want this life anymore. I don’t know where to go from here, but.” Dai runs his fingers through his hair, making it look darker and wild around his face. “But I’m going to figure it out. Because I deserve this. I deserve to be happy.”
Naruse has spent time with some of the most beautiful women in the entertainment world, models and actresses and idols, but nothing can compare to how wild and beautiful Dai Kawatori looks right now. The mantle of sadness he’s been carrying on his shoulders ever since he began trying to immortalize Rengo Shiraki has given way, and while Naruse had wondered what would become of him when this day inevitably came, he had never expected anything like this.
He wants to kiss him. He wants to taste that anger on his lips, and more than anything else, he wants to rip away his own restraint and kiss every inch of Dai Kawatori’s perfect, perfect body.
“You do deserve to be happy.” Naruse doesn’t dare touch him, not with his intentions looming dark and seductive in his mind. “If you want to stay here until you figure things out, you can.”
Dai laughs, the sound surprisingly loud and jarring, and he runs his hands through his hair again, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he tucks them back into his hoodie pocket. “I spent half of that taxi ride worrying what you would say when you saw me in the doorway. If you would be upset with me for being here so late. If I would wake you up at this hour. I’m such a fool.”
“You’re not.” Naruse closes the distance between them, cradles Dai’s face in his hands, his fingertips brushing against that soft black hair. “You’ve never been a fool, Dai.”
Dai bites down hard on his lower lip, and the emotions in his eyes… Naruse can’t read them. “You’ve always been supporting me and taking care of me,” he says, and Naruse gives a little nod to affirm he knows exactly what he’s been doing. “But you haven’t kissed me since that day.”
“In all fairness, you did have a girlfriend.” Not that Naruse had cared. “But now, I suppose…”
“Please.” Dai grabs him by the front of his shirt, then slides his hands up so he can link his fingers together around Naruse’s neck, and he’s so painfully sweet and innocent. “Please kiss me again.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. His lips are cold and dry and Naruse kisses him with slow, sweet ease, feeling Dai’s lips tremble as he tries to keep up with the kiss. He’s inexperienced, has probably only kissed his ex-girlfriend in all of these years, so Naruse guides the kiss, guides him even as he lets go of his face so he can grab his hips and yank him closer.
When he presses his tongue between Dai’s lips and licks into his mouth, tastes him like he did that afternoon, Dai melts against him again. All of the hardness and the hostility from mere moments ago fades away and he’s soft once again, nervous fingers sliding up into Naruse’s rumpled hair as he lets Naruse curl their tongues together, little breathy noises swallowed by their kiss.
“I want to take you to bed,” Naruse tells him, speaking the words right against his lips and enjoying the way Dai shivers. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for a very long time.”
“Please,” Dai says again, and if Naruse had any hesitation left over, it’s instantly wiped away from that single word alone. “Please… I just…” He presses his face against Naruse’s, nuzzling him instead of finishing his sentence, but that’s fine. Naruse picks him up and carries him to his bedroom.
He isn’t a romantic by any means, but as soon as the idea darts into his mind, he seizes on it and goes with it, and Dai feels good in his arms. He clings to Naruse’s shoulders, face hidden in his shirt, but Naruse doesn’t mind because he can’t even begin to imagine how much fortitude it must have taken Dai to reach this point that he could ask for this in the first place.
And he’s been thinking about doing this far too long to question this too heavily.
Laying Dai out on his bed should not feel like some sort of victory, like the last few pieces are finally slotting into place in a particularly difficult puzzle, and yet here they are. Naruse turns on the lamp beside his bed, but just on its first setting so the warm, ambient glow lets him see the beautiful man stretched out on top of his duvet. In just a pair of jeans and an oversized hooded jacket, Dai Kawatori is somehow every inch a fantasy and yet the most perfect reality of all. Naruse could not have asked for this, could not have had the words necessay to do so.
He wants to look at him for a long time, just really drink in the sight of him flushed, his lips red and his hair mussed, his clothes a little rumpled, lying there and waiting to be touched, to be taken. But Dai reaches for him with trembling hands and Naruse shakes the thought away; it’ll have to wait for later because right now Dai needs him, and what kind of man would he be to deny him? So he pulls his t-shirt off over his head, tossing it on the floor behind him, and smiles a little at the choked gasp he hears as he maneuvers himself onto the bed, propping himself up on his hands and knees above Dai’s body. It’s a better position than just standing beside the bed, certainly.
Their legs threaten to tangle until Dai spreads his wide enough for Naruse to settle between, splotches of red painting his cheeks the most tantalizing shade. “I haven’t… Not with a man.”
“You’re so cute.” Naruse runs his fingers down Dai’s face. “I think I knew that, though.”
Dai turns his head, hiding his face against the palm of Naruse’s hand. “Just be gentle with me.”
He would have been regardless, because he was serious when he said he was sure he knew that Dai had never had sex with another man before, but hearing the request itself spoken between them melts him in a special way that he’s never been warmed before. He nods and presses easy kisses to Dai’s cheek, his temple, down the side of his neck. His skin is warmer now, either with his blush or from having been in the apartment long enough, and he shivers beneath Naruse’s lips.
“I want to see you,” Naruse tells him, tugging at the zipper on the front of his jacket. “Your recent modeling shoots aren’t enough for me. I want to see every inch of you, Dai.”
Dai swallows hard and nods, sitting up slowly to pull the zipper down. “Help me undress?”
Naruse could tell him it would be like opening a Christmas present. He doesn’t. “Of course.”
With every layer of clothing that they remove from Dai’s body, his hunger for the man beneath him only grows larger. Down to his boxers, Dai squirms, bites his bottom lip. “You, uh, ready, Narucchi?”
Naruse nods and leans back to watch Dai wriggle out of the boxers, the plaid fabric sliding down his long, bare legs until he’s finally naked. His smooth pale skin, the muscles shifting on his frame as he stretches himself back out. His broad shoulders, his slender waist, the long stretch of his legs. He’s both delicate and strong, a work of art laid out on his bed, and Naruse bites down hard on his tongue to smother any inappropriate sounds as he strokes Dai’s neck.
“You are a fantasy come to life,” he finally settles on, grinning when Dai flushes and sputters.
“Don’t say things like that!” Dai covers his face with his hands. “You always embarrass me.”
Chuckling, Naruse nuzzles the front of his throat, kisses the skin. “I can’t help myself, you know.”
He’s wanted to explore Dai’s body for almost as long as he’s known the man and he makes good on his fantasies now, running his hands over every exposed inch of him as he kisses and licks at his throat, sucking the tender skin to leave a mark in his wake. Everyone who looks at Dai will know someone has been here, someone has been touching him so tenderly, and Naruse wants them to know it was him. He wants everyone to know this beautiful man is going to be his.
Dai had told him he’d never had sex with a man before, but Naruse wonders how long it’s been since he’s had sex at all. He reacts to every touch, every kiss, every caress like he’s been starving for affection for far longer than any human being should have to. What had happened to him?
He can feel Dai’s heart thumping hard against his ribs when he kisses his chest, pressing his ear to the sound before just a moment before running his tongue over one dark nipple. Dai whines high and in the back of his throat while Naruse sucks the dark bud into his mouth, his eyes fixed on Dai’s face, on the way his expression shifts and the way his lips part around the noises he makes.
Every erotic thing he does to him only makes him harder; their bodies are flush together and Naruse can feel his cock hard and heavy between his thighs, twitching when Naruse runs his tongue over his nipple, sucks it hard enough that Dai squeezes his eyes shut and chokes on a gasp. He needs to be touched. He never should have been this deprived to begin with. Naruse can easily make sure no one ever deprives him of this ever again.
“Mine,” he whispers against Dai’s heartbeat before kissing his way lower, mouthing at the soft skin of his belly, dipping his tongue into his navel, grinning when he squirms a little.
“Okay.” There’s no argument, just Dai meeting his eyes up the length of his body. “Yours.”
He’s gentle when he eases Dai’s thighs apart, massaging the tensed muscles in his inner thighs with his hands as he licks over that pretty pink puckered hole, invigorated by the fact no one has ever done this for him before. The way he gasps, back arching just a little, eyes wide, tells Naruse all he needs to know. He’s the first man to make Dai feel like this, to give him these sensations, and there’s something empowering about that as he licks his way inside of him.
Predictably, Dai’s ass is tight and unused to penetration, even something as easy as this, but Naruse just licks over and inside of him, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses to his spit-slickened hole before thrusting his tongue back inside. He could do this for hours, keep Dai on the very edge of an orgasm while he works him over like this, wet kisses and licks to unravel him at the seams.
He keeps lube in his bedside table, more for his own needs than for the needs of any random partner, but he’s thankful for it now as he works first one, then two, then three fingers into Dai’s beautiful ass. Dai’s tight around his fingers, squeezing around them as he works him open, his eyes closed, his cock straining and leaking wet against his belly. He’s so beautiful it hurts.
“That’s my good boy,” Naruse whispers to soothe him, surprised when Dai moans at him.
He’s less surprised when he thinks about how Dai is probably desperate for praise and affection and keeps murmuring to him while he twists and curls his fingers to open him up.
When he replaces his fingers with his cock, his hands braced on Dai’s hips to hold him in place, the heat is almost suffocating and he has to grit his teeth, tensing every muscle in his lower body to keep himself from coming then and there. He drinks in the sight of Dai swallowing him up, revels in the little whimpers and moans that leave Dai’s lips as he works himself inside. This might be his first time, but it isn’t Naruse’s, and he knows how to handle a virgin to maximize their pleasure and minimize their pain. Dai looks beautiful, flushed and naked and full beneath him.
He wraps lube-slick fingers around Dai’s cock and jerks him slowly, timing the motions with his own little thrusts so that Dai has a sensation to seize on, pleasure to relax his muscles and ease the way. Naruse forces himself to breathe, forces himself to remain calm so he doesn’t come from the tightness and the heat and the way Dai arches up into his hand, hot and hard and leaking pre-come all over his fingers. He wants to taste him but takes care of Dai first until he’s buried inside of him, his hips pressed flush to Dai’s ass, their bodies wedded together.
“How does that feel?” he asks, stroking a thumb over the head of Dai’s cock.
“Good. So good, Narucchi.” Dai sounds drunk from the pleasure; his eyes are almost entirely black with the slightest ring of chocolate around his blown pupils. “You feel so good inside me.”
“You feel so good around me, baby. I’d stay just like this forever if I could.” He’s not sure if it’s just dirty talk or if it’s honesty. It’s hard to tell them apart when it comes to Dai.
The sheer amount of lube he’d used to ease the friction as much as possible has a side effect, of course; the slick and wet noises as he pulls out only to thrust back in make him feel that much closer to tipping over the edge. He anchors himself in the noises Dai makes him for, the way he pulses around Naruse’s cock, the way he throws in Naruse’s hand. When he reaches for him, Naruse leans over just enough that Dai can grab his shoulders and cling to him.
“You are so beautiful,” Naruse tells him, and he means it more than he ever has before.
Dai blushes but holds eye contact for the first time. “You always make me feel beautiful.”
He inhales sharply at the words and wonders how long Dai has been using him as more of an anchor than he already thought possible, then focuses on fucking up into Dai’s open and needy body instead. Never in his wildest fantasies did it ever feel this good.
He could get used to this, really. If Dai wants to keep him in his life, if he wants more than just one night. He’d never entertained such a thought before, and this isn’t the first time he’s thought of this.
Dai’s fingers dig into his shoulders, his legs wrapping tight around him as he groans.
When the stabs of heat in his gut only pick up in pace and intensity, Naruse doubles down on how he’s touching Dai. He angles his thrusts to hit his prostate better and strokes him a little faster, twisting his wrist just a little until Dai sobs beneath him. When he can’t hold on any longer, he leans down and kisses Dai as hard as he can, tasting need and desire on his tongue and feeling him come hot and sticky over Naruse’s fingers, crying out against his lips.
He’s careful as he slides out of Dai, falling down on the mattress beside him, licking come off of his fingers as he looks at the man beside him. “How was that for a first time?”
“I don’t think I can move,” Dai informs him, giggling a little around his own words.
Naruse grins at him, leans over to steal another kiss. “Good. You’re cute when you’re relaxed.”
“Mm. Flattery will get you places.” Dai shifts on the mattress. “I’m a little sticky, though.”
Naruse has to carry Dai to the bathroom, and his legs are at least stable enough that he doesn’t risk either of them falling to the floor in the process. He takes his time soaping up Dai’s body, kissing him through the shower steam. They’ll face what comes next together.
Dai Kawatori finds the suicide note buried at the bottom of one of the boxes of his belongings and reads it over once before wadding it up and tossing it in the waste basket, no longer interested in its contents. He does the same thing with the will of Shiraki Rengo that he had chosen from the half dozen, not even sparing its contents a glance. He knows them as well as anyone.
He has awards for acting and directing and writing beneath his belt now.
His resume is miles longer than it was before and he knows he can logically do anything he wants with the fame he has built up from this. The entire country is waiting to see what he does now.
But for now, he just focuses on hanging up the clothing he had picked up from his old apartment this afternoon, setting his personal belongings in the bedroom as he goes. Naruse watches him from the doorway with a fond smile on his face, head resting against the beige wood.