どいつもこいつも

a smut au sideblog to tttt117.

[tmyfcks-blog]

bababoner:

The way Tomoya said his name along with how his body seemed to melt against Yuuji’s was almost too much to take for him. “I love when you call me Yuuji-san,” he muttered and put a hand on Yuuji’s cheek to caress it with tender affection while he locked their gazes, “It makes me feel like I have found an actual wife in you…”

His hands sneaked between their bodies to tug on Tomoya’s pants to slide them just a little lower on his hips while he stepped his a little closer to have the older fully trapped between him and the wall. The kiss that followed, made his head spin, though, and caused a small firework inside his stomach, so he kissed him back eagerly and curled his tongue around the other’s while his hands wandered up and down the other’s sides restlessly.

“Dinner can wait…” he whispered after a while when he pulled back to take a proper breath again and licked his moist glistening lips, “As delicious as it smells, I have something way more delicious in front of me right now.” He didn’t even wait for a reply, when he squatted down just far enough so he was able to put his hands on Tomoya’s buttocks and lifted him up, for him to wrap his arms around Yuuji’s hips, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want you right now in this adorable little apron, when you look way too hot all day every day anyway.”

A feigned sigh left Yuuji’s lips and he just carried Tomoya to the kitchen where he set him down on the table and pecked his lips quickly, just to turn around and turn off the stove, so their dinner wouldn’t get ruined due to his horniness. And exactly that was what Yuuji worried a little – they weren’t dating for all too long and Tomoya hadn’t seen the darker sides of him yet, but how much longer could he suppress them in favor of the sweet fluttering inside his stomach whenever they met? A hand came up to scratch the other’s neck tenderly, “Would it be too awful to ask you to go on your knees and suck me off?”

It was like living some kind of fairytale, being carried around the way he was. Tomoya admittedly wasn’t used to it -- in his other serious relationships (a whopping two of them) he’d been the one carrying other people around, but what else was he expected to do, having petite girls to date and all? Maybe it was embarrassing, the way his heartrate sped up as he was set on the kitchen island, the way he flushed at the feel of Yuuji’s hand on his neck, but it wasn’t as if Tomoya could help it.

Feeling special was new.

But even around all this -- around the flip-flopping mess of his heart, around the fact that the fondness and sheer want in Yuuji’s eyes looked too honest to be faked and Tomoya didn’t know what to do with that -- he grinned, head dipping to brush a kiss against Yuuji’s palm. “Nothing’s too awful for my Yuuji-san,” he said, and it was only emphasised as his mouth brushed up Yuuji’s wrist, as Tomoya leaned in to give one more peck on his mouth, and as he slid off the table with both hands slipping over the narrow angles of his partner’s hips.

There were moments for taking one’s time, but there were moments for this, too: Tomoya squeezing over Yuuji’s hips as he sank to his knees for him, lips touching the fabric of Yuuji’s shirt over where his stomach was in the smallest sign of adoration. He moved to undo his belt, glancing up at Yuuji with a cheerful smile that looked more innocent than lecherous (but he was happy, so surely it made sense to wear such an expression on his mouth?), and as metal clinked and Tomoya’s fingers removed the fastenings to his trousers, he let out a soft sigh at the way Yuuji’s undergarments peeked through the triangle of his undone clothing.

“Not gonna lie,” he murmured, tugging enough on the hem of Yuuji’s bottoms to pull them lower, “Yuuji-san’s might be the best one I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

And he’d say more -- Tomoya was good at blunt honesty, speaking such things with a candidness that made it impossible to mistake as dirty talk -- but by then Tomoya’s hand was pulling Yuuji out, and his tongue was swiping over his lip in clear anticipation, and he was leaning in to press that same tongue to the underside of his head.

He licked up over the slit, fingers curling around the base of Yuuji’s cock, and with the same smile he brought curved lips down over the head, the lowest sigh of appreciation reverberating around sensitive flesh.

Tomoya wasted no time at all, one hand settling on Yuuji’s hip as his head bobbed. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, lashes fluttering shut, and Tomoya relished the feel of Yuuji hardening against his inner cheek, his own knees parting ever so slightly as arousal burned in the pit of his stomach.

[tmyfcks-blog]

bababoner:

Sitting in the train on he way to his boyfriend’s home, Yuuji was smiling to himself. His boyfriend. Who would have known he’d ever meet Tomoya, let alone miraculously make him fall for him as well, so they would give it a shot at their happily ever after. Tomoya out of all people, the man he had been staring at in his TV, much like a crushing teenage girl he had followed all his drama appearances.

He couldn’t even recall how this had happened, just that his relentless pestering and the initial shyness must have caught Tomoya’s eye. But whatever it was – he surely wouldn’t question it and instead he just embraced it. The only bother he saw was their busy lives. Even with the lack of activeness of his own, the support he played for friends and occasional meetings with his management for Fanclub-related reasons kept him busy enough to not mesh too well with Tomoya’s incredibly busy one. A Janizu was always busy, he had known so before, but finding enough time to even spend an evening with his significant other – the thought of this term made him snicker lowly – in flesh and blood and not just via some modern technology. But when they met, it was as if the world stopped turning for the time being and nothing but them mattered. Well, them and the cute little kitten that tried to sneak his love whenever he was dropped by. Not to mention how well they seemed vibe in the bedroom…

Yuuji cleared his throat quickly and checked the screen above the electric doors, telling him to get off the next station luckily before he’d risk popping a random boner in public. His libido was legendary for a reason and, hand down, Tomoya was too hot not to make him the star of his lengthy warm showers for a few years now. Something he wouldn’t exactly tell him of course.

 A little while later, he had made it to the older male’s apartment and had rang the doorbell more out of habit than to announce himself and absent-mindedly searched for the key he had received the other morning. A smile crept on Yuuji’s face when he thought of the face Tomoya had made that moment, seeming so unsure of himself. Or was he just shy? Such a silly man… But the opening door pulled him out of his thoughts and he was greeted by a mewling kitten, the smell of mouthwatering nikujaga and Tomoya. Wearing an apron. Fuck.

He slipped inside the apartment quickly to close the door behind himself and to tug Tomoya into his arms, both arms sliding around him to rest on the small of his back, “I’m back,” he hummed lowly before he kissed the other full on his lips, pulling back just to kiss him again. It had been way too long since he had last gotten to do that after all.

“What did I do to deserve a greeting like this?” With a wink, Yuuji pulled back to take off his shoes, so he could line them up in the genkan neatly before he hung up his jacket, “I have heard newlywed wives tend to leave he clothes off under the apron, but we can do that next time, mh?” He had planned to be nice, he really had, but it was hard to not just back Tomoya up against the wall of the hallway and brush a few kisses against his neck. And he really had planned to only do this in his thoughts, but his hands had moved on their own. “I missed you quite a lot.”

There was one good thing about always expecting hugs -- it made the kisses Yuuji gave him that much better. Tomoya, ever the sentimental one, found himself reeling for a little while longer since he was smooched, his heart full and his face warm with pleasure. Hell, every response was delayed thanks to the head-spinning quality of that kiss -- from Tomoya’s joking “I didn’t wanna have oil flickin’ onto my nipple, a’ight?” to the realisation that Yuuji had pushed him far enough his back was touching the wall.

“Hey--” Interrupted by the touch of Yuuji’s lips to his neck, Tomoya let out a cross between a soft gasp and a chuckle, his hands moving to settle on Yuuji’s shoulders only to slide up and cup the lines of his jaw. “I missed you too, Yuuji-san.”

The kiss he gave Yuuji was slow, soft; his hands slipped from his jaw to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer at the same time Tomoya’s tongue pressed between eager lips.

And God, Yuuji was eager. Not that Tomoya ever really felt that was a bad thing, not when he kissed just as good as he tasted. Tomoya was the open sort -- in feelings and in reactions, in his thoughts and his words -- and the sweet noise that passed from his mouth to Yuuji’s was every bit the sweet mix of arousal and romance Tomoya believed summed their faux marriage up perfectly.

Pulling back, the sound between their lips was wet, but Tomoya pressed another kiss to the corner of Yuuji’s mouth, and then his cheek, and then the corner of his eye as he brought nimble fingers down to slide down his chest, his stomach.

“But I made dinner.” His hands slotted over narrow hips, thumbs pressing lightly in warning. “So either you an’ I eat that now” -- he nipped at an ear, voice low and filled with mirth -- “or you let me turn the stove off an’ make yerself comfy wherever the hell it is y’want me to put my mouth on ya.”

[tmyfcks-blog]

@yuujibaba

Tomoya’d fallen into the housewife routine far too easily, even if he and Yuuji weren’t necessarily married. They’d not quite moved in together (the scandal would’ve been massive, in the event people put the pieces together) either, but frequent visits were better than nothing at all.

Work would’ve prevented them from spending too much time together regardless, Tomoya supposed. The only times Yuuji came to visit were when their free times coincided, and since TOKIO was busy 6 out of 7 days of the week, and Yuuji’s own career had its own fluctuating tendencies (and random practises, it seemed), those free times came far less often than either of them would’ve hoped. Indeed, a number of intimate moments had to be shared through mailing or phone calls or little video calls and the like, and whilst Tomoya enjoyed the sound of Yuuji’s voice and the adorable way he typed into his silly mobile phone and how sweet he looked, early in the morning, all bedheaded and soft and wishing Tomoya luck on DASH Island, he enjoyed the younger man’s physical presence over a thousand times more.

They were always special occasions to him, these days that Yuuji came to visit (or the days that Tomoya went to see him, though Tomoya’s home in Setagaya was the usual location for their little trysts). Before Tomoya knew it, he’d started to cook elaborate meals for when he came -- things with special vegetable dishes, and meat dishes, and soup, and even a bit of dessert left in the fridge for later -- and it made him feel almost ridiculously like his mother, back when he used to live with her and she’d make meals for the family to have dinner together.

And that was what Yuuji was, wasn’t he? Family? Barring the fact that they’d only started this try at a relationship a few weeks ago (six weeks and five days, not that Tomoya was counting), Yuuji being his boyfriend meant that Tomoya was going to treat him like he treated any other of his loved ones when they came over.

...well, except he’d never put lace on if his mother came, but that was a different matter entirely. (Any dutiful housewife would look especially pretty after reuniting with their husband after a stretch of time, wouldn’t they?)

In any case, his nikujaga was just about ready, a fact he confirmed as he lifted the pot lid and gave the potatoes within a little poke with a chopstick. Tomoya smiled, teeth digging into his lip; he was proud, certainly, and he was even more excited by the prospect of seeing Yuuji’s face when he ate his home cooking. That only made the waiting more unbearable, knowing everything was ready but that Yuuji wasn’t home yet -- and he thought of, perhaps, taking a nap until the doorbell rang, but it chimed just as Tomoya worked to untie the apron wrapped around him.

Mii-chan beat him to the door, her little kitty paws tapping along the hardwood to greet who she’d come to acknowledge as her second father. Tomoya, not wanting to be outdone, hurried himself, deciding he could take the apron off later. In his haste he nearly slid across the floor in his socks, but Tomoya got to the door just as Yuuji finished unlocking it, his arms spreading wide in greeting (he was expecting a hug at the very least) and his head flicking back to get his fringe out of his eyes.

The door pushed open, and Tomoya chirped, “Yuuji-san, welcome home! I made you dinner!”

Of course he kept the -san. Wives always did, didn’t they?