Honey and Clover (Nomiya/Mayama)
Jul. 5th, 2007 11:42 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: After Hours
Author: MzXanthER
Rating: R
Warning: Vague mention of who's after who.
Word Count: 1231
A/N: This prompt was more difficult than I though! but I enjoyed it immensely. There needs to be more H&C fic out there.
Prompt:Honey and Clover, Nomiya/Mayama: Duct tape and office chairs - Nomiya shows Mayama how to be cool.
It had been a prank, really, to show Mayama how he couldn't hold his liquor. He had chuckled as Mayama matched him drink for drink, watching how his face flushed with each progressive drink, how his eyes unfocused, and finally how his speech began to slur and stutter. Once they had reached that point, it was fairly easy to coax him into one of the office’s most uncomfortable chairs. When Mayama had passed out, it was even easier to tape him to it.
Miwako, and Yamazaki found it hilarious, of course. They each had taken pictures of Mayama, putting him into different positions. Miwako kept mentioning how Rika-san would find the pictures eye opening, and how after she had seen them would stop giving Mayama the time of day.
Nomiya kept quiet, slowly sipping his shochu. Yamazaki offered to take Miwako and Leader home (which of course she refused and took a taxi); he had told them to go ahead, that he would take care of Mayama. They didn't question his motives, or the unusual kindness of the offer.
After they had left the office was quiet; with the lights out and nothing but the moon to guide him, Nomiya lit a cigarette and settled back to watch Mayama sleep.
It had bothered him at first, the attention he gave his co-worker. Usually he was enveloped with work, women, everything that did not include wondering about his drama-drowned co-worker.
Yamada made it interesting. She was pretty, and very sweet. Not really Nomiya's type, but she was useful in helping him annoy Mayama. He didn't know why he took such pleasure in seeing how flustered the other man got, how upset he'd become everytime he spoke with her.
He put out his cigarette and quietly walked over to where the other inebriated man softly snored. Mayama's arms had been taped to the chair arms, his chest to the back, his legs left free. His hair was askew, and his glasses crooked. Nomiya took it all in, a feeling of calm settling over him. He carefully removed the glasses and put them on the workman's table. Without them Mayama looked younger, more innocent, less angry.
Afterwards, he could never figure out if it was the peaceful look on Mayama's face that prompted him, or the tranquil atmosphere of the office. He found himself leaning closer, Mayama's breath ghosting against his chin. He carefully pressed his lips closer, wanting a taste, wondering how far he could go before Mayama woke up.
Mayama's mouth was slack, but it still responded, his lips parting and tongue moving sluggishly. Nomiya pulled back slightly, noticing Mayama's eyes were open while his body remained relaxed. His gaze was unfocused without his glasses, looking confused. Mayama's mouth parted, maybe to say something, but Nomiya wouldn't allow it, becoming more aggressive as he kissed him once again.
He should have ended it there, but the soft moan elicited from Mayama captivated him. He leaned in closer, one hand balancing on the back of the chair; the other pressing down on Mayama's arm still strapped to the chair. That moan infuriated him, created desire, where before there had only been a sort of numb non-feeling churning in his gut.
He pulled his mouth free, vaguely noticing that Mayama mouth hung open on panting breaths, his lips slightly swollen, He moved down to the unbuttoned collar of Mayama shirt, attacking his throat, using teeth this time just to hear the groans that spilled from Mayama. His brought his hands around, finding Mayama nipples through the button down, and rubbing against them, pinching, wanting more of those strange haunting sounds that seemed to goad him further. Mayama was panting, but no words came from him, no complaints, and no demands for Nomiya to stop.
His hands traveled down Mayama's sides and onto his lap, amazed that Mayama could even get it up at this point. Tracing the erection through Mayama's pants, feeling and stroking it turned Nomiya on even more. He dropped onto his knees in front of the chair, and for the first time since this strange turn of events, glanced up to meet Mayama's eyes.
They were glassy, but more focused than before .His face was flushed and his chest heaved. Nomiya couldn't recall moving his hands, but the next thing he knew Mayama's pants were undone and his cock exposed, glistening from excitement already. He didn't think, barely breathed, just moved in and took Mayama in his mouth. Released a moan that echoed Mayama's when he licked at the bead on the tip.
Mayama's voice became louder the further down Nomiya worked him; swallowing, licking, worshipping.
Now the room was full Mayama's quick and heavy panting, the messy sucking noises that Nomiya knew he was making, and the harsh sound of Nomiya pulling breath though his nose every time he bobbed his head. To Nomiya, it still wasn't enough as he sucked even harder, causing Mayama to writhe with pleasure. Twisting in his bonds.
At one point Nomiya had shoved his hand down his own pants, not realizing how quick and desperate his own strokes were compared to how desperate he was to have Mayama finish. The taste had gotten stronger as he used his free hand to pump Mayama as he tounged the tip. He gave it a few pulls before diving back down on it. Moving both his mouth and his hand faster, Nomiya desperately wanted this to end. Then this insanity would stop and his common sense could return.
Mayama began to move, weakly struggling against the bonds, gasping. Nomiya knew that Mayama was close. Nomiya rocked his own hips faster into his hand in response. He felt the flesh in his mouth twitch and throb and pushed it as far down his throat as he could. The noise Mayama made couldn't be called a shout, or a moan, but something caught in between as he finally came. Swallowing, Nomiya pulled off with a harsh gasp, laying his head against Mayama's thigh as his own climax came suddenly, sharp and blinding.
When he came back to himself, his hand was still in his pants, sticky and beginning to feel tacky. Mayama's softening arousal was inches from his face and his breath the only audible sound in the room. Mayama had passed out again.
Nomiya slowly stood up, wiping his hand against the side of his pants. He tucked Mayama back in, and straightened up his clothes. He wondered if he should cut him free or leave him till morning. He didn't know if he wanted Mayama to remember what happened. Picking up his keys, he gave Mayama one last look as he slipped from the office and locked the door.
As the days went on he wondered if Mayama could recall that incident. He never said anything. No confrontations, no accusations. But he refused to sit in that chair again, and would blush whenever his eyes fell on it.
Nomiya would every now and again find himself watching Mayama, but those emotions from that night, of seeing an innocent and vulnerable Mayama never resurfaced. It was as if it had been a spell, or an itch that once scratched, just fades from memory.
Nomiya carefully lit a cigarette, listening to Miwako and Mayama bicker over something Rika had done, and wondered if Yamada was free the next weekend.
Author: MzXanthER
Rating: R
Warning: Vague mention of who's after who.
Word Count: 1231
A/N: This prompt was more difficult than I though! but I enjoyed it immensely. There needs to be more H&C fic out there.
Prompt:Honey and Clover, Nomiya/Mayama: Duct tape and office chairs - Nomiya shows Mayama how to be cool.
It had been a prank, really, to show Mayama how he couldn't hold his liquor. He had chuckled as Mayama matched him drink for drink, watching how his face flushed with each progressive drink, how his eyes unfocused, and finally how his speech began to slur and stutter. Once they had reached that point, it was fairly easy to coax him into one of the office’s most uncomfortable chairs. When Mayama had passed out, it was even easier to tape him to it.
Miwako, and Yamazaki found it hilarious, of course. They each had taken pictures of Mayama, putting him into different positions. Miwako kept mentioning how Rika-san would find the pictures eye opening, and how after she had seen them would stop giving Mayama the time of day.
Nomiya kept quiet, slowly sipping his shochu. Yamazaki offered to take Miwako and Leader home (which of course she refused and took a taxi); he had told them to go ahead, that he would take care of Mayama. They didn't question his motives, or the unusual kindness of the offer.
After they had left the office was quiet; with the lights out and nothing but the moon to guide him, Nomiya lit a cigarette and settled back to watch Mayama sleep.
It had bothered him at first, the attention he gave his co-worker. Usually he was enveloped with work, women, everything that did not include wondering about his drama-drowned co-worker.
Yamada made it interesting. She was pretty, and very sweet. Not really Nomiya's type, but she was useful in helping him annoy Mayama. He didn't know why he took such pleasure in seeing how flustered the other man got, how upset he'd become everytime he spoke with her.
He put out his cigarette and quietly walked over to where the other inebriated man softly snored. Mayama's arms had been taped to the chair arms, his chest to the back, his legs left free. His hair was askew, and his glasses crooked. Nomiya took it all in, a feeling of calm settling over him. He carefully removed the glasses and put them on the workman's table. Without them Mayama looked younger, more innocent, less angry.
Afterwards, he could never figure out if it was the peaceful look on Mayama's face that prompted him, or the tranquil atmosphere of the office. He found himself leaning closer, Mayama's breath ghosting against his chin. He carefully pressed his lips closer, wanting a taste, wondering how far he could go before Mayama woke up.
Mayama's mouth was slack, but it still responded, his lips parting and tongue moving sluggishly. Nomiya pulled back slightly, noticing Mayama's eyes were open while his body remained relaxed. His gaze was unfocused without his glasses, looking confused. Mayama's mouth parted, maybe to say something, but Nomiya wouldn't allow it, becoming more aggressive as he kissed him once again.
He should have ended it there, but the soft moan elicited from Mayama captivated him. He leaned in closer, one hand balancing on the back of the chair; the other pressing down on Mayama's arm still strapped to the chair. That moan infuriated him, created desire, where before there had only been a sort of numb non-feeling churning in his gut.
He pulled his mouth free, vaguely noticing that Mayama mouth hung open on panting breaths, his lips slightly swollen, He moved down to the unbuttoned collar of Mayama shirt, attacking his throat, using teeth this time just to hear the groans that spilled from Mayama. His brought his hands around, finding Mayama nipples through the button down, and rubbing against them, pinching, wanting more of those strange haunting sounds that seemed to goad him further. Mayama was panting, but no words came from him, no complaints, and no demands for Nomiya to stop.
His hands traveled down Mayama's sides and onto his lap, amazed that Mayama could even get it up at this point. Tracing the erection through Mayama's pants, feeling and stroking it turned Nomiya on even more. He dropped onto his knees in front of the chair, and for the first time since this strange turn of events, glanced up to meet Mayama's eyes.
They were glassy, but more focused than before .His face was flushed and his chest heaved. Nomiya couldn't recall moving his hands, but the next thing he knew Mayama's pants were undone and his cock exposed, glistening from excitement already. He didn't think, barely breathed, just moved in and took Mayama in his mouth. Released a moan that echoed Mayama's when he licked at the bead on the tip.
Mayama's voice became louder the further down Nomiya worked him; swallowing, licking, worshipping.
Now the room was full Mayama's quick and heavy panting, the messy sucking noises that Nomiya knew he was making, and the harsh sound of Nomiya pulling breath though his nose every time he bobbed his head. To Nomiya, it still wasn't enough as he sucked even harder, causing Mayama to writhe with pleasure. Twisting in his bonds.
At one point Nomiya had shoved his hand down his own pants, not realizing how quick and desperate his own strokes were compared to how desperate he was to have Mayama finish. The taste had gotten stronger as he used his free hand to pump Mayama as he tounged the tip. He gave it a few pulls before diving back down on it. Moving both his mouth and his hand faster, Nomiya desperately wanted this to end. Then this insanity would stop and his common sense could return.
Mayama began to move, weakly struggling against the bonds, gasping. Nomiya knew that Mayama was close. Nomiya rocked his own hips faster into his hand in response. He felt the flesh in his mouth twitch and throb and pushed it as far down his throat as he could. The noise Mayama made couldn't be called a shout, or a moan, but something caught in between as he finally came. Swallowing, Nomiya pulled off with a harsh gasp, laying his head against Mayama's thigh as his own climax came suddenly, sharp and blinding.
When he came back to himself, his hand was still in his pants, sticky and beginning to feel tacky. Mayama's softening arousal was inches from his face and his breath the only audible sound in the room. Mayama had passed out again.
Nomiya slowly stood up, wiping his hand against the side of his pants. He tucked Mayama back in, and straightened up his clothes. He wondered if he should cut him free or leave him till morning. He didn't know if he wanted Mayama to remember what happened. Picking up his keys, he gave Mayama one last look as he slipped from the office and locked the door.
As the days went on he wondered if Mayama could recall that incident. He never said anything. No confrontations, no accusations. But he refused to sit in that chair again, and would blush whenever his eyes fell on it.
Nomiya would every now and again find himself watching Mayama, but those emotions from that night, of seeing an innocent and vulnerable Mayama never resurfaced. It was as if it had been a spell, or an itch that once scratched, just fades from memory.
Nomiya carefully lit a cigarette, listening to Miwako and Mayama bicker over something Rika had done, and wondered if Yamada was free the next weekend.
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