Disenchanted [Oneshot]

[h_itoshi]

Title: Disenchanted
Fandom: Hey! Say! JUMP
Pairing: Yuto/Yamada
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 6554
Warnings: Classy business AU, douchebag Yuto, kind of angry sex.
Summary: "Nakajima Yuto. Pleasure to meet you too." Yuto says, but there's an ironic lilt to his voice, like he's mocking Yamada's choice of words, and even though his smile is beautiful, Yamada still somehow wants to punch him.
Notes:  Written for the YutoYama exchange 2017 over at Ao3 for sanadas_sanity. I have never had more fun writing an exchange fic since I talk to her every day and had to pretend like I didn't write for her at all. It went well, she had no idea. So I wrote two fics for the exchange in order to stay seemingly innocent. Suits, champagne, angry sex and riding felt obvious for her, so I went with that. Hope it's enjoyable~

 

The strict suit looks surprisingly good, Yamada must admit as he corrects his cuffs while watching himself in the mirror. The black vest with shiny black buttons, the crisp white shirt and impeccable suit with a clean cut, the pocket with a sleek trim of white keeping it fresh and modern. His tie is dark too, a bright colour neither his style nor anything that'd be acceptable at an event like this.

He doesn't want to be here. He's not the business child, but his sister couldn't make it and somebody needs to represent the family since his parents are abroad, his younger sister too inexperienced.

It's a private party to settle good relations amongst a group of investors in the same project, a set of new skyscrapers about to be built in central Tokyo, and it's all a big deal. Yamada just doesn't care much about it.

He simply plays along for his father not to disown him. He accepts things like going to meetings or dinners when his sister can't, but he doesn't want the company, doesn't want to work for it or be in charge of it. He just represents his family, smiles and says polite things, then he can go back to his own life wearing T-shirts and ripped jeans and being a general disappointment for his father.

But for tonight, he's an heir of a great company and behaves after it.

“It looks good.” A voice says behind him, and Yamada glances up from his own reflection to face their head of business relations standing in the doorway. He's a man of nearly 50, and the one who's meant to do most of the talking tonight. Yamada's just “decorative” as his father so insensitively put it, but Yamada's used to it.

He doesn't bother replying, just goes back to fixing his suit, curling fingers around the jacket edges to straighten it a little, then strokes back his clean soft hair just to have it fall back against his forehead again. No hair products, barely any styling. No earring. Just staying professional and proper looking.

“I'm ready.” He says instead, and the man smiles at him from the doorway, one of those fake smiles he's often offered in official situations, ingratiating and plastic as everyone wants to stay on his good side. It's disgusting.

The party is big enough to not have a seated dinner, but there's still buffet tables full of appetizers and fancy small dishes. The house is an old mansion, furnished Victorian to match the exterior, and it all looks expensive and overdone.

The host of the party is the Nakajima family, their company running the project, a grandfather with his son and grandson the main characters to take notice of. Yamada never met either of them, but he's heard things about them that makes him a little curious. Like they're too rich for what they do, that they get money elsewhere that might not be the most legal route. And also that they're newcomers and have a taste for exaggeration to the point of bragging. Generally, Yamada doesn't listen to rumours, but if the house says anything about the family, he already agrees about the bragging.

His room was over the top to begin with, he thought the second he walked in, a staff member following him with his bags. Even though there are a lot of attendees tonight, only a select few are offered to stay over night to discuss business in the morning. A casual, familiar meeting apparently, but Yamada's not so certain that's what it is. An invitation to stay over night could either have ulterior motives, like getting everyone so hungover nobody can make a decision tomorrow, or just show off how they can afford to accommodate 10 people like a high class hotel.

The rooms are ridiculous, Yamada thinks, the massive mirror he'd been looking at himself in before attached to a dressing table with a golden, intricate framework, the bed mahogany with a heavy canopy, walls a deep red and a wall to wall carpet covering the floor. He half expected there to be candle lights rather than electricity, but apparently not even this family was that eccentric. It felt almost rebellious to dress in such a crisp suit in the ancient looking room.

The downstairs is just as showy, crystal chandeliers and velvet curtains, old carved tables in dark wood and expensive couches, veranda glass doors open to a dimly lit garden.

Yamada sips his champagne from an elaborate crystal glass as he greets people and small talks politely, having read up on the most important ones and who they are, enough to recognize them and make sure to make a good impression.

A lot of people come up to talk to him, of course, since their company is a big one and nobody favours from getting on bad terms with him. Most of them are old men with their wives in colourful dresses, almost all of them pointing out they haven't seen him since he was a child and it's good to see him grown up, that he's become so handsome and adult.

They're all passive hints about why Yamada's here and not someone else from his family, some interested like he's intending to get into the business, others clearly suspicious, and he makes sure to mention his sister intended to come but got caught up last minute with an important trip.

During the first hour, he keeps getting a prickling feeling of being watched. It's weird, because he keeps discreetly turning around only to find no one is looking at him, and he wonders if he's imagining it.

But then suddenly, when he's looking over the shoulder of a particularly boring middle-aged man talking about his pet shih-tzu, he suddenly meets a pair of dark eyes.

It's a young man, probably his own age, tall and slender with pale skin and hair dark as the night, looking carelessly flawless in a fully black ensemble. His hair is definitely styled, bangs pushed back like he just ran his hand through his hair this morning and left it like that, and it's an intriguing look at a place like this. The man sips his champagne very slowly, but his intense eyes doesn't leave Yamada, doesn't do anything to cover up the fact that he's shamelessly staring straight at him.

The man is attractive, strong jaw and beautifully chiselled face, but his expression is hard and Yamada wonders who he is and what his problem is.

He turns back to the middle aged man he's talking to and finishes the conversation properly, and when the man leaves, those eyes aren't fixed on him anymore. It's both relieving and disappointing, and as Yamada encounters his business manager in the crowd, he uses the opportunity to ask who the young man is.

“... Nakajima Yuto.” Is the reply he gets, tone mild disbelief that Yamada didn't realize, and Yamada inwardly wonders the same. There aren't many young people here, and nobody else would dress so obviously against the dress code. Yamada sticks out enough because of his dyed brown hair, even if it's dark. An all black suit and shirt outfit with styled hair could only be worn by the host.

That still doesn't explain what his obvious problem with Yamada is.

Through the following hours, Yamada keeps noticing Nakajima Yuto sending him those same dark stares, feels them on him even when he can't see them, and he feels oddly bothered by them despite his usual confidence in situations like these. He's not sure if he finds it intriguing or annoying to be so blatantly watched, but it gets to him and occasionally ruins his concentration.

Still, it takes until there's music on and the appetizers are traded for a buffet of bite sized desserts before they actually encounter each other.

“Hello there.” A smooth voice says behind Yamada suddenly, and if he jerks the slightest he manages to cover it up, turning casually to face those dark eyes straight on, realizing just how much taller this man is than himself. “I don't believe we've met.”

“Yamada Ryosuke, pleasure to meet you.” Yamada says automatically, but the polite words only bring out a small smirk like Yamada just said something stupid.

“Nakajima Yuto. Pleasure to meet you too.” Yuto says, but there's an ironic lilt to his voice, like he's mocking Yamada's choice of words, and even though his smile is beautiful, Yamada still somehow wants to punch him.

So he does the most daring thing he can while still being socially acceptable. He doesn't reply, only sips his own dessert wine slowly while looking at Yuto, waiting to see what it is he wants.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Yuto asks after the silence stretches on a few moments too long to be comfortable, but he seems to find that amusing rather than awkward.

“Well enough.” Yamada replies calmly, figuring it's a polite enough answer, but Yuto just raises a well shaped eyebrow for a moment, sipping his own dessert wine slowly.

“I thought there was a woman coming.” Yuto says then, much more blunt in his questioning than anyone else has been tonight, but Yamada just pastes on his apologetic smile as for everyone else.

“Unfortunately my sister had to be elsewhere tonight. I'll have to do for now.” He says, but he can't entirely keep up the charade when Yuto eyes him slowly up and down like he's assessing Yamada's business potential through his body type. It's pretty damn irritating.

“You're not very tall.” Yuto comments then, and Yamada's caught off guard for a second, wondering where the hell that came from and thinking that wasn't an okay comment at all.

“... I can't see how that's relevant.” He says after a small pause of wanting to tell Yuto to fuck off and leave him alone.

But Yuto just grins like he said something funny, and that smile is so full of itself and it's grating on Yamada's nerves.

“You're not that engaged in business, are you?” Yuto says then, his dark eyes glittering with some kind of twisted amusement and Yamada just wants to slap him and walk away.

“I'd wait until tomorrow to assess that if I were you.” Yamada replies, a sharp edge slipping into his voice and he doesn't even bother hiding it.

“Oh, you're attending the meeting?” Yuto smiles, but his tone of surprise isn't genuine and Yamada watches his expression, dark eyes still sparking with some kind of amusement, and he feels like he's being played somehow but he doesn't know how. Yuto sips his dark red wine before speaking up again, and Yamada's eyes follow how he raises the glass to his lips.

“Shouldn't I?” Yamada challenges, his tone much fiercer than he intended but he's very interested to hear why Yuto didn't think he would.

“Oh, just.” Yuto shrugs like it's no big deal, but Yamada can already feel something nasty coming and tries to brace himself. “You just look like the kind that'd get wasted off free alcohol and take some half-cute girl to your room and not wake up in time tomorrow.”

Yamada doesn't even think, rage rushing through his blood system at the degrading comment, and before he knows it, he's emptied his half full glass of wine in Yuto's face.

For a moment, time stops as they just stare at each other. Yuto's eyes are wide in surprise as red droplets trail over his jaw and onto his shirt, while Yamada feels paralysed from what he just did, watching the dark stain on the left side of Yuto's chest, the splashes over his cheek and in his hair.

But then he gathers himself, simply turning away from those eyes quickly going from shocked to furious, putting his empty glass down on the nearest surface and turns to leave, managing to smile at the people he passes on his way out of the room. He's done all the talking he needs.

His heart is beating hard in his chest as he starts the stairs to his room, not wanting to think about what he just did and what consequences it could get, but at the same time he's impressed with himself for not throwing the actual glass too. Things could have been worse. Besides, Yuto deserved it, with his self entitlement and taking the right to say whatever he felt like about someone else.

He closes the door behind him and immediately shrugs out of the expensive suit jacket and throws it over a chair, then heads to the bathroom to wash his face and try to calm down. Think rationally.

Worst case scenario, he figures as he undoes the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up his sleeves, is Yuto ratting to his father about it and Yamada will have to be on his hands and knees and beg to be forgiven. Alternatively, they'll be excluded from the project just like that without a warning, he thinks bitterly as he reaches for a towel.

He glares at his own reflection in the mirror, mentally scolding himself for being affected by Yuto's talk. He's well trained in not being affected, but some alcohol and that slow preparation broke him down, being stared at all night and then openly insulted not something he was ever taught how to handle.

His train of thought comes to a stop when he hears the lock of the door to his room being turned, sees his own frown form in the mirror before he turns to look at the bathroom door, but it's closed and he can't see who enters his room, he's just certain somebody does.

He figures it's the business manager coming to yell at him, but he doesn't have a key and Yamada only hears the door closing again and nothing more no matter how closely he listens.

He gives it another minute, but then he figures whoever opened the door must have just left again since he didn't hear footsteps. Still, he opens the bathroom door quietly, glancing at the old fashioned door of his room, but it's properly closed.

“You're feisty, aren't you?” A smooth voice says from inside the room, and Yamada jumps because he didn't expect it. Yuto's sitting on the dressing table with the mirror, a foot carelessly on the small table placed along the end of the bed like he couldn't care less what this furniture is worth. The cockiness is lacking from his voice though and it's oddly satisfying, giving Yamada enough courage to slowly walk into the room and sit down on his bed like Yuto might as well not be there, not replying to the question.

“Leave my room.” Is all he says, voice hard and demanding as he's learned to do when he wants something, reaching up to undo his tie. “It's rude to enter without invitation.”

“Really? I'd consider it rude to ruin good dessert wine.” Yuto says acidly, and Yamada has to look up at him at the tone, noticing he's wiped his face clean but the stains on his clothes are still there, and his eyes are fixed on Yamada's fingers pulling the tie from around his neck and discarding it on the bedside table.

“It's also rude to call people sluts, question their competence without reason, and to stare at people.” Yamada informs him sharply, wondering what it is Yuto wants.

Yuto just looks up to send him a cold stare, then drops his gaze to his own cuffs that he starts undoing, slowly. “This suit is expensive.”

The sentence is an obvious change of subject and Yamada feels even more like punching him now that they're behind closed doors. But he still can't keep from watching Yuto's long fingers undo the buttons of his cuffs, then reach up to shrug out of his suit jacket lazily.

“I'll have you pay for dry cleaning.” Yuto adds, but as he looks up again his eyes are dark, and Yamada has a feeling this conversation is really about something else and he decides to drop any smidgen of courtesy he had left.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks, trying not to let his eyes widen when Yuto casually goes on to unbutton his shirt, each button falling aside revealing more pale skin.

“My problem?” Yuto repeats, then actually smiles even though it's a cold smile, his fingers coming to a rest as the shirt falls open, the top left sticking to his chest like the wine glued it there. “You are my problem.”

Yamada can't help letting his eyes linger on the expanse of bare skin before him, brain going warm trying to figure out what the fuck is going on here, if there are hidden cameras somewhere and what the hell does Yuto win from sitting here and undressing, from giving Yamada a hard time from before they even met. He just doesn't get it.

“I expected a woman.” Yuto starts, those intense eyes watching Yamada again like it's all his fault. “I was so ready to charm a woman.”

Yamada frowns at the idea of Yuto flirting with his sister, the images it puts in his head surprisingly repulsive, but he also registers the hint of foul play behind the scenes that he hears in that sentence.

“Did I ruin your plans?” Yamada asks sarcastically, but then feels his confidence falter a little as Yuto pushes himself up from the dressing table and leisurely starts walking towards him.

“Yes.” Yuto tells him, voice cold but there's something almost desperate underneath the crisp surface. “I can handle women without a problem. But not beautiful men.”

Yamada startles at the words, leaning back on the bed, away from Yuto slowly approaching, wondering what the hell Yuto's referring to even though subconsciously he already knows what the intensity in Yuto's eyes means and it makes his heart speed up in his chest.

“What the hell does that mean.” He demands, but he doesn't shy away any more as Yuto settles on the edge of his bed, watching him with those dark, dark eyes.

“It means...” He starts quietly, voice suddenly much huskier and his eyes are fixed on Yamada but he doesn't move closer. “That business is the farthest thing from my mind when looking at you.”

“Really?” Yamada demands, but he has to swallow, wet his lips, and his heart is beating in his ears, wondering if he's really hearing this right, if he's being tricked somehow. “What else could possibly be on your mind?”

“Your face.” Yuto starts, and Yamada wonders if he should laugh because that's just ridiculous, but then Yuto goes on and he doesn't feel like laughing anymore. “How badly I want to fuck you until you scream my name.”

There's a pause as Yuto's eyes stay fixed on Yamada's undoubtedly shocked expression, but he feels heat prickling under his skin at the words, finds himself wondering what Yuto can do.

“Then try and make me.” He challenges finally, figuring it's alcohol and his chronic desire to win making him speak the words.

Even Yuto looks surprised for a moment, but then he grins and breaks eye contact with a small laugh.

“What?” Yamada demands, but his voice is lower than last time he spoke and he can't keep his eyes from leaving Yuto's face in favour of naked skin. “Is there a hidden camera in here or something?”

He honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was just another sick game Yuto thought up because he was bored, but the alcohol in his body has already approved the idea of Yuto touching him and now he wants it, ulterior motives or not.

Yuto glances up from under lashes with a dark look, a tiny filthy smirk tugging at his lips. “And if there was?”

“Then you wouldn't touch me.” Yamada says firmly, the words half a challenge and half a statement, but Yuto only picks up on the challenge.

Chapped lips are pressed against his before he's prepared, a hand on his shoulder pushing him back onto the mattress and keeps him there, and all Yamada can do is gasp and reach up for Yuto's shoulders as Yuto settles over him, ready to push him back if needed.

Yamada's not a stranger to messing around with boys, mostly because there are several cute and lonely boys in his social circuits, but the reason he tried it out was to have done all the things his parents would murder him for if they knew. He just happened to like sleeping with boys enough to keep doing it. They were all sweet with him anyway.

But Yuto's kiss is fierce and mindblowing and Yamada feels himself just accepting it, his fingers grasping onto the fabric still covering Yuto's shoulders instead of the muscle that would give him more leverage. Yuto's lips are restless against his, pressing them together over and over until Yamada feels dizzy, parting his lips in a gasp for oxygen, and there's a tip of a hot tongue brushing against his lower lip. His own tongue subconsciously flicks out to lick over that same area to sooth the tingles left from the touch, accidentally brushing Yuto's lip, and then their tongues are tangled and it tastes like dessert wine and forbidden excitement.

Yuto's hand sifts through Yamada's hair, stroking it back and then caressing down his cheek to his jaw, tilting his head up for a better angle, and Yamada just arches, the feeling of being so overwhelmed new to him and it's really damn hot.

The kiss breaks on mutual heavy breathing, Yamada's lungs screaming for air and he feels how his cheeks glow pink from the lack of oxygen, but he catches a glimpse of Yuto's face and he looks to be in the same state.

Yuto gives a tiny smile, then slides down Yamada's body enough to press lips against the pulse point on his throat, one hand reaching down to push Yamada's thighs apart, and he takes the hint to spread his legs enough for Yuto to fall between them.

He's upset for a moment that he's the obvious bottom here, but then remembers that he was the one to challenge Yuto to fuck him. Besides, in this position he can push his hips up against Yuto's, can feel the erection between Yuto's legs that convinces him this isn't just some kind of fraud going on. Arousal is difficult to fake.

There's a groan against his throat at the motion, low vibrations that makes him shiver, and he gets a hand in Yuto's hair to pull him away from his neck, way too sensitive there and he doesn't want Yuto to know. But Yuto just groans at the hair pulling like he enjoys it, and Yamada twists his fingers to give an extra rough tug, which only earns him a serious thrust of hips into hips and Yamada wants clothes off this instant.

He releases Yuto's hair in favour of going back to his shirt, starting to push it off his shoulders since it's already opened, but Yuto just bats his hands away and starts on Yamada's shirt instead. It's just that Yuto's excruciatingly slow unbuttoning Yamada's shirt, lips and hot breath ghosting after his fingers, exploring each inch of skin that's revealed as the buttons pop and it sends shivers all over Yamada's skin.

“Come on.” He finally urges impatiently, the words mostly breath and frustration as Yuto places a wet kiss just above his belly button, his erection pressing against Yuto's sternum and demanding attention but not getting any.

“Impatient?” Yuto asks huskily against his stomach and Yamada shudders involuntarily. “Maybe I could even make you beg.”

The words light Yamada's competitive fire because like hell he would, and he reaches down to twist fingers in Yuto's hair again, rolling his hips up pointedly. “In your dreams.”

“Oh you would definitely beg in my dreams.” Yuto says, glancing up from under long dark lashes, eyes glittering with arousal and mischief and Yamada's not sure if he's being insulted or praised. He doesn't have time to figure it out though, Yuto finally pulling his shirt entirely open, pushing himself up enough along Yamada's chest to press lips against his sternum as long fingers find a nipple and Yamada's grip on Yuto's hair tightens.

His groan is mostly frustration, irritation even, as Yuto's lips softly steer to the side to brush the other nipple while his fingers play with theirs, Yamada's erection straining his pants and twitching with each little lick and flick to his hardened nipples.

“Fuck.” He swears, thrusting his hips up against Yuto's stomach without caring how much force he's using, and he feels a puff of breath against his moist skin that is definitely a gasp.

He uses his fingers in Yuto's hair to pull his head back from his chest, the brusque handling clearly surprising Yuto as his eyes widen for a moment before darkening as he looks up at Yamada for a long moment.

Yamada's not sure what their seconds long staring competition is about, but he figures he won when Yuto sits back enough to be able to get his hands just where Yamada wants them.

He throws his head back on a groan as a confident hand cups his erection through his pants and squeezes, already sure Yuto knows exactly what he's doing and he can't wait to feel those fingers inside him.

“Hot.” Yuto mumbles almost inaudibly in that deep voice, and Yamada's not sure if it's on purpose or not but he feels much more like giving in and just accepting whatever Yuto wants to do to him as soon as Yuto speaks, stretching against the sheets like the praise caresses his skin directly.

At the same time, that other hand easily gets his belt open and button undone, then both hands help in unzipping and pulling his pants down.

It's relieving to get rid of clothing, but at the same time he doesn't intend to be naked while Yuto's still dressed, and so Yamada lets his own hands wander, keeping one firmly in Yuto's dark hair but the other trails down Yuto's front to the hem of his pants and Yuto draws a deep breath.

Yamada doesn't care much for teasing, not even when someone has this much potential to writhe before him, so he uses the opportunity when Yuto sucks in air to slip a hand inside his pants and underwear to wrap fingers around him directly. Yuto's cock feels good in his hand, hot and hard and silky, and the moan being stuttered into the room is brighter and not as confident as his other sounds have been this far. Yamada gets in a couple good strokes despite the bad angle before there's a firm grip on his wrist pulling his hand out and pinning it above his head instead, Yuto breathing heavily for a few moments as he glares at Yamada like he did something he couldn't.

Yamada just glares back, and Yuto gives his wrist a clear push down, as if to say stay, before letting go. Yamada automatically lifts his hands again to reach out for something, he's not even sure what, but then Yuto's hands hook in his underwear and he grabs Yuto's shoulders for enough leverage to lift his hips and let his clothes come off. It's only as he feels the smooth material of Yuto's suit pants against his bare erection that he realizes he ended up naked and Yuto almost fully clothed anyway.

He doesn't mind that much though when Yuto pulls a travel sized bottle from his pants pocket and Yamada's eyes narrow, like Yuto knew he would get to fuck a boy tonight all along, and it pisses him off because he sure didn't think he was predictable.

But he also really wants those long fingers inside him, so he spreads his legs when Yuto rubs sticky substance onto his fingers, spilling some on the sheets and Yamada's not even sure Yuto puts the lid back on as he flings the bottle aside.

The first finger goes in slowly, the resistance of Yamada's body matching his mindset, like he doesn't want Yuto to play him too easily, but he also really wants to get fucked, see if Yuto really can make him scream. It's been a while.

Yuto leans over him to brush lips against his as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out, aiming for enough wriggle room for another to fit, and Yamada feels the shirt hanging open against his own chest and he wants Yuto's clothes to go. But he figures it'll take too much effort, and settles with reaching hands up to touch Yuto's bare chest.

The gasp against his lips as he pinches a nipple without preamble comes along with a much rougher jab of Yuto's finger that has him arching, and Yuto definitely notices he liked that since the following stretching is a little less gentle. Yamada does his best in reciprocating kisses and exploring Yuto's chest, but at the stretch of a second finger he keeps losing focus at every shift inside of him, only able to keep breathing and focusing on not losing himself entirely and start clinging.

Once Yuto's three fingers deep inside him, Yamada's breath is coming in short, quick puffs and his cheeks are burning, arching at every little bit of friction inside him, those fingers so long he feels like they touch places inside him that's never been touched before. His own fingers are digging into Yuto's shoulders, body rolling in time with Yuto's slow finger fucking and he feels uncomfortably out of control despite the pleasure tingling under his skin, the promise of something even better to come.

So as soon as Yuto withdraws his fingers, wiping them on the sheets to start fumbling with the fastenings of his own pants, Yamada uses the opportunity to roll them over, Yuto making a little sound of surprise as he suddenly finds himself on his back with Yamada on top of him, but then breaks out into a smug grin like he doesn't mind this new position at all.

Yuto's hands still reach down to get his pants open, seemingly having it much easier in this position since he's got them open and shoved down along with his underwear in no time.

“You better have a condom in there too.” Yamada gets out, glancing down at Yuto's pants but then gets distracted by his cock, thick and red and looking so promising resting against his stomach.

Yuto just raises an eyebrow like Yamada would be stupid if he really thought he didn't, fishing one up from his pocket where his pants are only shoved down enough to suffice.

Yamada watches impatiently as Yuto rolls it on, giving himself a quick stroke like he can't help it, then pats around for the bottle of lube that definitely leaked some on the sheets to spread some over himself.

Yamada feels Yuto's eyes on him, knows he's being watched as he can't take his eyes off Yuto's erection but he doesn't care, figures it shows well enough what he wants. He only waits until Yuto's thoroughly coated in lube before reaching down to grab it himself, enjoying the weight in his hand, and Yuto groans even before Yamada holds him still enough to slide down. The initial penetration has him biting his lip from the pressure despite the thorough preparation, but the rest just goes as he keeps sliding down and it feels like it never ends. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses to try and catch his breath, feeling full to his limit and his hands claw against Yuto's chest as his own body clenches before he's ready.

Yuto's moan in response to it is beautiful, and it helps his body ease up a little, enough to give a first tiny push up and slide back down, and it feels good as much as it hurts and it makes Yamada a little light headed. Yuto's hands grab onto his thighs, not guiding but merely holding, and his face contorts in pleasure, lips parting and eyes squeezing shut, and Yamada has to smile despite the strain on his body. Like this, he won't be the one begging.

He slowly, carefully starts out a rhythm, knowing he'll feel his thighs tomorrow but Yuto's half closed eyes are so adoring as they look up at him that he doesn't mind showing off because he knows he can.

Eventually, he picks up speed, when the slide is easier and he can move without feeling like he's going to combust any second, and Yuto keeps moaning so deliciously Yamada feels like this isn't going to last very long for either of them.

When he shifts and finds a flawless angle, he can't keep his own desperate sounds in, moaning shamelessly and probably too loudly, but it makes Yuto's grip on his thighs tighten as he pushes up in time with Yamada sinking down and Yamada sees stars before his eyes.

His own breath is a continuous string of swearwords and moans mingled in with each other, and his eyes keep falling closed as that perfect spot inside him is mercilessly stimulated over and over.

He gasps as the angle suddenly changes again, a rustling of sheets and then there's a puff of breath against his neck, and he opens his eyes to find Yuto sitting up, lips pressing against his throat, tongue flicking out to taste the skin at the same time as a hand wraps around his erection and he cries out because it's too much at once.

He tries to roll his hips both down against Yuto's cock and up into his hand, but the rhythm doesn't match and he makes a frustrated noise because he just needs to come.

“If you moan my name I'll make it better.” Yuto mumbles against the area just below his ear, and Yamada shudders despite himself. “It's easy. Just say my name. Yuto.”

A perfect stroke and thrust combination follows and Yamada's head falls back as his eyes squeeze shut, because he's so freaking close but he doesn't want to say it. But after that one, the coming strokes are stupidly wrong, too loose or out of synch and Yamada's hands grasp onto Yuto's shoulders again, clawing in frustration and not even feeling sorry about it.

But Yuto doesn't give in, and Yamada can't hold himself together anymore.

“Yuto...” Finally comes over his lips, a breathy gasp, but it seems to be good enough since Yuto's strokes get firmer, thrusts harder as he presses a lingering kiss against his neck.

“Good boy.” He almost purrs, and Yamada's not sure if that's hot or weird but right now anything is hot. “Now moan it as you come for me.”

And Yamada does, any embarrassment over following orders flushed away by the bliss crashing over him, the two syllables leaving his lips in a whine almost unconsciously as his body convulses and he spurts over Yuto's fingers.

He vaguely feels himself be relocated, soft blankets against his back again, and then Yuto starts thrusting before he's even aware, overstimulated and shuddering at each brush to his prostate. It's too soon, but he can't get words out, and Yuto groans into his neck after only a few thrusts, hips going erratic and then stilling as Yamada's body automatically clenches around him.

He moans almost pathetically in Yamada's ear, and it feels a little better, even though Yamada knows how sore he's going to be tomorrow and he's still pissed at Yuto.

He laces a hand into Yuto's hair as Yuto doesn't move away, seemingly a bit out of it as he catches his breath, and places a soft kiss against his neck. He's careful at first, but then gets a little rougher with his mouth until he takes a good patch of skin between his lips and sucks, hard.

Only then Yuto reacts, jerking away and pushing up to stare down at Yamada, cheeks flushed red and breath still heaving as he stares down in horror.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands, it just doesn't sound that authoritative with his voice all breath.

Yamada grins in satisfaction, at least until Yuto pulls out and he makes a face because it stings. “Just figured you should look like someone who insults people just to sleep with them.”

Yuto's facial expression is interesting, like he can't decide whether to smack Yamada straight in the face or just fuck him one more time, and the smile comes back to Yamada's lips again as he wonders what Yuto's father is going to say about that hickey.

“Fuck you.” Yuto finally gets out, raising his hand to the stark red spot on his neck while staring down at Yamada like he's some kind of alien.

Yamada can't keep from laughing at it, for the first time wondering how old Yuto really is and what kind of person he is, but he's silenced by lips against his own and he doesn't mind Yuto crawling on top of him again.

The meeting the following morning is interesting. Yuto's wearing a black turtleneck under his suit and Yamada pointedly doesn't look at him, only focuses on what his business manager says and what the other companies suggest. A couple of the managers from other companies are definitely hungover, but there's no obvious persuasion going on, except Yamada can sense a bit of tension between Yuto and his father when Yamada blatantly says no to a shitty suggestion of how their share should look. It gives him a pretty good guess of why Yuto was supposed to charm a certain woman, and even though he doesn't think his sister would ever fall for Yuto, he's still happy he went and not her.

When the meeting is over, Yamada stands to leave, only moving a little gingerly compared to how he wants to, and he's completely focused on leaving the room with his dignity intact.

A hand on his shoulder stops him, and a receipt is held out before him as Yuto brushes past, the little puff of cologne reminding Yamada of low groans and sweaty skin.

He takes the small paper on instinct, watching Yuto's back as he leaves the room for a moment before taking a closer look at the paper.

It's a dry cleaning receipt of 4880 yen, and Yamada is just about to tear it and throw it away when he realizes there's something written on the back.

If you wish to complain about the check, please do so here. It says, followed by a phone number, and Yamada doesn't know whether to roll his eyes or laugh, but lets the receipt slip into his pocket. Those negotiations sounds like they could be much more fun than dull business meetings.

 

~*~