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03 August 2010 @ 04:17 pm
.014 - Restraint [SCREW]  
Title: Restraint
Pairing/Group: SCREW – SCREW x Yuuto, but mainly Byou x Yuuto, Kazuki x Yuuto, Byou x Kazuki x Yuuto, Jin x Manabu, and OT5; implied SID!Aki/Yuuto
Rating: NC17
Warnings: slash, a bit of crack, porn, abuse of parantheses, light crossdressing (if you count stage costumes), exhibitionism
Summary: An alternate reality where SCREW is a band that acts like a band, not an orgy that breaks for music-making, is too good to be true. So why aren’t they fucking Yuuto? The soon-to-be-former member investigates.
Notes: For jrock_xmas 2009. I win at x-posting in a timely manner. Happy Holidays to koboshi_ichigo! I was really excited to get your request—I hope this level of kink is what you wanted, and I hope you love it. Thanks to Liz and Ellie for reassurance. ♥ Cut text comes from Genitorturer’s Pleasure in Restraint.

I wanna jump your bones
Every single second of the eleven hours that I’m awake
And I’m quickly becoming the master
The master of restraint

- Keller Williams, Restraint

It’s the typical uneventful day that consists of practice and meals, of somewhat futilely attempting to convince the band to focus and having it somehow happen anyway. It’s been completely unremarkable, in fact, until Yuuto undresses after he’s returned home, and realizes that he’s wearing the same clothes he wore to work. He didn’t have to change or grab a cheap shirt the way home to cover come stains or spilled food or drinks (which occasionally precede the come stains). His hair is still relatively untangled, and he hasn’t had to fix it at all other than a quick brushing post-practice.

In short, Yuuto has managed to accomplish what was formerly the impossible and unthinkable: he had made it through a full day with his group without being debauched, ravished, thrown against a wall, bent over a surface, fucked, “punished,” blown, or molested.

The bassist stares at his reflection in the mirror while the bath water runs. It must be a dream, or he’s just forgotten. Too much sex has blurred the memories together. He pinches his arm to be sure, and confirms reality.

It’s just a fluke. They’ve all been stressed as his final live with them approaches.

Yuuto is sure that they’ll make up for lapse tomorrow.


He half-expects to be grabbed and stripped the moment he walks in the door, so he gets to practice a bit early to at least remove his shoes and sweater first. Jin arrives soon after him, and Yuuto waits quietly in his chair for the order to strip. However, after a brief, “Good morning,” Jin sets up his drum kit and focuses on tightening screws and fussing with minor adjustments rather than screwing Yuuto, who remains on his chair and begins to grow tense.

He wonders if he’s done something to “upset” the group, something that would inspire them to create a truly diabolical "punishment." Maybe it’s a new game, to screw with his mind. Cautiously, with one eye on Jin, he takes out his bass and begins to tune it, listening with one ear for the footsteps that never come toward him.

Manabu arrives next, and chats with Jin as he prepares. Yuuto is too wound up to carry his thread of the conversation, and after a moment of concern from Manabu that he shrugs off, he is ignored.

He is certain that, when Kazuki enters the room a split second before Byou, it’s about to begin. He’s so certain, in fact, that he’s already set aside his bass and is bracing himself for a yank that will pull him to his feet while he scrambles for balance.


Turning to look at Byou, he realizes that the band is standing and waiting for him, instruments and microphones ready. He hurriedly slips his shoes back on and waits for his place while Jin counts off.

The break then, they must be waiting for the break, he thinks.

The first break comes and goes, and Yuuto stops waiting next to the emptier (more comfortable) closet. Two weeks ago, he’d been near the other one, and a shelf had collapsed, bringing several bottles (closed, thankfully) down on top of them, scaring him out of orgasm and into extreme tightness, and Kazuki had tried to bring in the others to frighten him for a week afterward because of it.

Lunch is equally uneventful, but Yuuto remains alert and wary. Kazuki asks after his health, Byou hands him a can of hot tea, and Yuuto continues to wait.

After two more breaks, they declare practice to be over. Yuuto has decided by this point that it must not be an orgy that awaits him (for they would never pass up so many opportunities if it were), and so he packs up slowly, waiting to be approached. When he finally looks up from where he’s been dawdling over his bass case, he realizes that he’s the only one left in the room.

Yuuto checks the room again, going so far as to open the closets for their jackets and equipment. He is, in fact, alone, in the same unstained clothes he’s been wearing all day, without a hickey or a scratch, without chafe marks, bruises, or welts—well, without new ones. The marks from the day before yesterday (and the days before that) are, of course, another matter.

He goes home feeling surprisingly energetic, and even accepts an invitation from Aki to go out drinking (the last two times, he’d been too exhausted to accept, much to his disappointment, and he’d feared that his senpai and idol wouldn’t ever invite him out again). Feeling vaguely like a slut as he changes shirts (one that he’d never wear around SCREW, because they don’t need fashionably low v-necks to be horny), Yuuto hopes that Aki, at least, will be interested (though it is Aki, and he’d certainly been more than interested the other times, when Yuuto wasn’t too tired).

He’d never admit it out loud, but Yuuto feels just a little neglected.

To say that he’s shocked when he comes home—to his own apartment—at three in the morning, alone, is something of an understatement. He’s a little drunk, a little floored, and he’s sure that they’d come thisclose to kissing at least four times, not to mention the run-in (literally) in the bathroom, when Aki had looked so hungry . . .

But nothing had happened. Not a single thing apart from teasing looks and smirks and a conversation so mixed up in bass talk and innuendo that Yuuto knows he’ll never be able to look at his bass as anything other than a sexual object ever again.

He goes to sleep, grumpy and frustrated and half-hopeful that things will be back to normal when he wakes up.


Unfortunately, nothing changes the following day, or the day after, or the day after that. He doesn’t understand why he’s been shut out of the loop. Maybe it’s their way of distancing themselves before he leaves, except that nothing else has changed—they still go out on the weekends, or out to dinner and karaoke, but it’s not him they’re going home with afterwards, and it’s not him they’re fucking in the bathroom. Or maybe it’s revenge for all the times he’s complained (or “complained”) that they need to fuck each other more often and him less.

Or maybe—and this is the most likely possibility—it’s yet another mind game to put him on edge, and despite Yuuto’s best efforts at maintaining his calm, it’s working. Whatever their plan is, he’s certain that they’ve told Aki to keep his hands off, and Yuuto fervently hopes that Aki’s the only one they told. The worst part of being left alone in that respect entirely is that there’s no teasing, verbal or otherwise, and Yuuto begins to wish that he were being teased, if only for the sake of his trampled ego. He misses the little touches, misses being half-hard behind his bass and knowing that they’re watching in the mirror while they practice. He misses the thrill and anticipation and having reluctance (fake or otherwise) persuaded into eagerness.

Thinking of all the things the four men are doing to each other, thinking of the things they could be (are, knowing them) plotting makes Yuuto horny, and unsatisfied. He hasn’t needed to masturbate in years (to be honest, he hasn’t had the chance or energy), and now, the prospect is just humiliating—masturbating because his sex addict band doesn’t want him. The thought makes him wilt when he tries to take care of himself, anyway, at least initially.

But days stretch into weeks of the same bizarre routine, and Yuuto is by this time highly suspicious, because an alternate reality where SCREW is a band that acts like a band, not an orgy that breaks for music-making, is too good to be true. Not to mention, he’s sure that Kazuki nearly broke the other day, when Yuuto had bent down to tie his shoelaces right in front of the guitarist. He had thought he’d felt fingers sliding through his hair, and Jin had coughed loudly as he looked up. Kazuki had murmured something about a piece of fuzz in his hair, dragged Manabu out of the room, and that had been that.

So Yuuto begins to carefully observe his band, and patterns emerge. He notices that his bandmates tend to leave and arrive in pairs. Oh, they’re mostly discreet, spacing out their arrival and departure, but he catches Manabu idling in the hallway before practice, timing his entrance, and Kazuki enters the room on the heels of the previous night’s partner a few too many times. The poorly disguised touches that serve as foreplay and an invitation for later—Yuuto recognizes it all. When he watches the mirror from the corner of his eye as Jin nibbles on Manabu’s neck, Yuuto feels that he’s reached his breaking point (or one of them), and clearly it is up to him to break the cycle (and maybe even extract some minor revenge for the torment).

He chooses Kazuki as the weakest link because, while Manabu tends to be one of the more sensitive members (or was at one point in time) and is therefore susceptible to the sympathy card, Kazuki lacks the most (or any) self-control. It’s not hard to grab Kazuki as he departs for the band’s smoking break (yet another thing that Yuuto isn’t included in, even if it’s by choice) and hold him back so that they’re the only ones left.

“Did you need something?” Kazuki’s voice is congenial, but there’s a sort of wariness in his eyes, in the way that he leans slightly away from Yuuto, which is a bit thrilling, because it puts Yuuto in the dominant position.

“I was—wondering,” Yuuto murmurs as he steps closer, completely in Kazuki’s personal space, fingers tight around Kazuki’s upper arm and the toes of his sneakers brushing against Kazuki’s. Kazuki wants to get away—Yuuto can feel the rigid tension in the muscles, can feel the pull, but he’s strong, and determined, though he doesn’t really know how to finish the question he started without sounding needy, slutty, or like he’s stealing dialogue from bad porn. He doesn’t move any closer, relaxes his hold, and feels Kazuki relax, too.


Leaning a bit closer, he feels Kazuki’s free hand, warm on his hip, and Kazuki leans, too, enough that Yuuto is starting to close his eyes and is anticipating the brush of Kazuki’s lip ring against his mouth when—


The guitarist jerks back and looks at Jin, who is casually leaning against the doorjamb.

“Right. Break.”

Yuuto takes small satisfaction in the fact that Kazuki nearly flees the scene, though his satisfaction is ruined by Jin’s amused chuckle and the fact that he’s been cockblocked by his own drummer.

The cockblocking isn’t limited to Jin, of course. When Yuuto decides that the sympathy card has merits after all and he tries for Manabu, wistfully, quietly speaking of loneliness and the growing distance between them with a quivering chin and damp eyes (courtesy of eyedrops—Yuuto is only so talented, after all), Kazuki is there to gleefully intrude, complete with a, “Not this time, Yuu-chan~.” A crestfallen Manabu is dragged away, but not before he gets to see Yuuto huff and mutter a swear word under his breath. The sympathy card fails to work on Manabu again.


Jin is complicated. Jin is somewhat unpredictable. His desires fluctuate between the gentle and cuddly and the kinky and sadistic. Yuuto spends several days nurturing the gentle side, putting extra effort into the occasional stammer and blush (the blush is harder to do than he’d anticipated; he’s become more jaded than he’d thought) until he finally turns to Jin and plaintively asks why Jin never hugs him anymore. He should probably feel bad about the emotional blackmail, but it’s not like they haven’t done the same to him.

The drummer looks satisfyingly guilty, and when Yuuto whispers, “I feel so lonely,” Jin finally grabs him in a tight hug. Yuuto imagines being bent over his amp on stage in front of hundreds of fans to achieve the perfect crimson blush.

“Not here,” Yuuto protests as he squirms in Jin’s hold, so that he can draw Jin’s attention to his face. When the drummer looks up, the smirk that Yuuto expects to see slowly begins to tug at his lips.

“Why so embarrassed, Yuu-chan~? It’s just a hug.” Jin’s hands slide down, and Yuuto ducks his head to hide his face, which strategically puts his lips much closer to the blond’s.

“What if—” someone comes, is what he’s about to say (not that he cares, and not that it’s an excuse that anyone else in the group cares about, as they’ve demonstrated over the years). But Jin kisses him, soft and slow, and when Yuuto opens his mouth and Jin’s tongue touches his, he clutches at the drummer’s shoulders, half-afraid that Jin will find his control and leave, because this has been almost too easy.

He’s stopped by fingers twining through his hair and pulling backwards, and the tug at his scalp feels so good that Yuuto doesn’t even think of halting the moan as he shamelessly rolls his hips against Jin—no, against empty air. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is what he wants to scream, but instead he settles for a glare that Byou ignores.

“You were taking a long time,” the vocalist calmly says, even as his fingers tighten in Yuuto’s hair, prompting a shudder and hiss from Yuuto. It feels like the nerves between his scalp and cock are hotwired together; he’s always liked having his hair pulled, but this, and after so long—the rest of his body feels cold and detached, as blood flows towards his growing erection. Every movement of Byou’s fingers, every little scrape of nails against his scalp, makes his cock twitch, and Yuuto watches Jin through half-closed lashes. He doesn’t care that he’s on display; he welcomes it. Maybe temptation will be too much and they’ll both fuck him.

“So I was.” It’s not fair that Jin seems to be completely unaffected as he walks to the door, and Yuuto is having trouble slowing his breathing down. Jin had given in on purpose, Yuuto is positive. It had been a calculated forfeit.

“If you ever want anything,” Jin smiles sunnily just before he leaves, “all you have to do is ask~. Byou?”

With a regretful sigh, Byou walks away, fingers sliding through Yuuto’s hair. Yuuto is left alone with an erection that shows no sign of subsiding, and the desire to strangle one or more of his bandmates.


Byou, Yuuto knows, is harder—not harder than Jin, but harder to crack. Testing Byou’s control is a bit of a gamble, because one of Byou’s favorite games is to test Yuuto’s, and Yuuto knows from experience that Byou can restrain himself for a long, long time. But Yuuto knows Byou better than anyone in the band, knows his weaknesses, so he swallows his pride—it’s approaching week four (because this sort of event deserves to be kept track of)—and pulls out his trump card. He changes into it during break, because the costume room is only just down the hall, and there’s no way in hell that Yuuto’s going to be caught wearing it anywhere other than the short stretch of hallway or their practice room.

The pleated skirt had been short-lived, and had been worn over pants during the time it had been part of his costume, but it had been greatly (overly) appreciated by the band, especially by Byou. For the vocalist, it’s not so much the crossdressing as it is the easy access aspect, though Yuuto can see why short pleated skirts have appeal, especially after seeing Aki in a schoolgirl outfit. Yuuto forgoes the pants but lacks the courage to go without underwear (besides, it's purple zebra print boxer-briefs today) and is more than a little surprised when he opens the door and nearly runs into Byou on his way to the vending machines.

“I was thinking that we should have another themed live, or do one with old costumes,” the bassist says as he recovers, inwardly smug at the way Byou’s eyes linger on his exposed thighs.

“I wonder if Kazuki’s shorts still fit,” Byou muses, and they both quietly imagine the guitarist in his shorts—the obscenely short pair with the navel-baring top.

Yuuto clears his throat. “I’m sure they do.” Or they will, because Yuuto is sure that he and Byou aren’t the only ones who’d like to see Kazuki in them. Kazuki would probably grab for them without being hinted at as soon as they mentioned old costumes, anyway.

They fall silent, and Yuuto doesn’t think that the faint brush of Byou’s fingers along his thigh as they walk is an accident. The vending machines are a bit removed from the studio, and Yuuto is certain that he’s succeeded when he makes a stripper-worthy show out of bending over to remove his can from the machine, knowing that the bottom of his skirt is definitely exposing part of his ass. He holds the pose—legs slightly spread and straightened, arching his back to thrust out his ass, and it’s just a little fun, a little arousing, playing the whore—for just a beat, and then straightens, reaching behind with one hand to smooth down his skirt. But it’s not necessary, because Byou’s hand is already underneath it, fingers tripping along the edge of his short boxer briefs, just below the curve of his ass.

“The shock factor would have been better if you’d gone without,” Byou says, and though his voice is steady, Yuuto can feel his lips almost brushing the fine hairs on his ears, can feel the warmth of Byou’s body. He knows the vocalist is having trouble staying away.

“Mm,” Yuuto agrees, shifting his weight to press his ass against Byou’s hand, and Byou’s fingers obediently curve, palm flush against his ass, index and middle fingers sliding over his perineum until they barely graze his balls. His legs spread wider, and the bassist presses his hands against the surface of the vending machine.

He waits for Byou to step closer, for the tug and drag of elastic as Byou pulls down his underwear, but Byou is content to touch and stroke, the touch muted and strangely frictionless over the silk-slick material.

Turning his head to the side, Yuuto wishes that he hadn’t removed his lipring, for that was another weakness of Byou’s; but he doesn’t need to worry—the vocalist is already leaning forward.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs against Byou’s lips as the vocalist’s hand slides over his hip to cup his erection through his boxer-briefs, fingers teasingly gliding over the surface. “Whatever you’re waiting for, just—stop. And fuck me.” As far as pleas go, it’s fairly weak, and comes out more as a demand, but Yuuto’s hopeful that it will peak Byou’s interest enough to continue, to make Yuuto really beg.

“He can’t. The break is almost over,” Manabu cuts in from where he’s standing a few feet away. “You’re blocking the vending machine.”

“It’s not f—“ Yuuto begins, and stops because Byou starts speaking at the same time, and what he says doesn’t quite make sense.

“He asked,” Byou says, fingers never stopping their caresses, and it’s really not helping Yuuto that Manabu’s gaze is firmly affixed to said hand.

“Oh,” the guitarist replies, suddenly looking a lot more cheerful and less serious, “well that’s different.”

Yuuto blinks, trying to follow the thread of conversation. “What?”

“I’ll go tell the others to get ready then,” Manabu says, looking over his shoulder at the last second. “Don’t take too long~.”

Perhaps it’s Yuuto’s imagination, but the short guitarist sounds a lot like Jin there, all kindness and courtesy on the surface, but daring the listener to disobey him underneath. What the hell had they been doing while they were playing together and ignoring him? He doesn’t want to know (he really wants to know).

Byou merely hums in reply, obviously unconcerned about anything Manabu may or may not have learned from the drummer. Yuuto knows that he should be following Manabu, if only because they’re in the middle of the hallway and they’re not the only ones in the building, but Byou’s fingers feel so good, and he’s not stupid enough to walk away from Byou before the vocalist gives permission. Or at least, he hasn’t made that mistake since before SCREW, and it’s a lesson he’s never needed to repeat.

“You want to go in there, don’t you?” Byou asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. “You want them all to watch while I fuck you, even dressed up so I would. Slut,” he murmurs fondly, and it’s still only his hand on Yuuto, the restless fingers of one hand. Yuuto’s palms have grown damp as his body temperature has risen, and they only stay against the front of the vending machine because he’s pressing them so hard against the smooth surface. The temptation to touch Byou is too strong, and he knows that’s not part of the game.

“What if I fucked you out here?” The vocalist whispers, and Yuuto inhales sharply. What if, indeed. What if they got caught, what if they didn’t, and he could finally come from something other than himself.

“Do it,” Yuuto hisses, spreading his legs and pushing his ass backwards, purring in satisfaction when he finally connects with Byou’s groin.

“No.” And with that, Byou pulls away, dragging Yuuto by his wrist back to the dressing room.

He feels like maybe, just for nostalgia and habit and old time’s sake, he should fake a protest or pretend he has something close to dignity, but the door of the practice room is already in front of them. Yuuto’s barely started pushing it open when the doorknob is yanked out of his grasp, and he’s grabbed and pulled into the room with such force that he collides somewhat painfully with Kazuki, chest to chest.

“’S’about fucking time,” the guitarist mutters before kissing Yuuto, fingers sliding down his slides to examine the pleated skirt, dipping under the hem and dragging back up, over his ass. “I like this, why did you wear it?”

Yuuto presses his thigh between Kazuki’s, uses the leverage to rub against him. “You’re talking too much.”

Cooperative for once, Kazuki kisses him again. The outward facing spike on his lipring is prickly on Yuuto’s lip, but he likes the slight pain, the way it teases the place where his lip and skin meet. His underwear is pulled down, and the vaguely familiar, naughtily exposed feeling that comes from wearing a short (drafty) pleated skirt makes his cheeks burn in equal parts arousal and embarrassment.

“Don’t be greedy,” Jin scolds Kazuki as he gently pushes down on Yuuto’s shoulders. The bassist wastes no time, and quickly unfastens Jin’s belt and pants. Yuuto wants to touch, to be touched; he wants to feel Jin’s fingers slide through and twist and tug his hair; he wants to feel the friction of Jin’s cock on his lips, to feel slick, baby-soft skin dragging across the tight seal of his lips again and again. He craves the taste of skin, the bitter saltiness of faded sweat and semen. He wants to hear Jin—all of them—hiss and gasp and curse and moan, and know that it’s because of him, because of what he’s doing to them.

On his knees, Yuuto lets the flared head of Jin’s cock part his lips, and indulges in greed and jealousy and possessiveness. He hears noises in the background: a low string of words that could be from Kazuki, a sigh of pleasure that could be from Byou. They are only white noise to the bitten-off sounds that hover in Jin’s throat as Yuuto slides his lips down to the base of his shaft.

Hands drag his hips back, and he’s only able to continue sucking Jin’s cock because the drummer is short enough that being halfway to his hands and knees makes it easier rather than more difficult. The hands slide down to Yuuto’s inner thighs, pushing gently until he spreads his knees lewdly far apart while keeping his ass thrust out. He stiffens in surprise at warm wetness on his balls, the softness of lips as they tighten and suck. The lips travel upwards, wet kisses marking their path until his skirt is flipped up and a tongue drags over his entrance.

“Multitask, Yuu-chan,” Jin laughs, though it’s strained.

Manabu—Yuuto can tell from the calluses and the faint, sporadic pressure of the stud under his lip—doesn’t make it any easier. His tongue presses and—and flirts, with little thrusting motions that aren’t enough to penetrate, just to stretch, to barely stretch the ring of muscle in a way that makes Yuuto completely focused on his ass. Jin jerks his attention to the forefront—literally, with a fistful of hair and a fast thrust of his hips. It catches him off-guard, and Yuuto feels his throat close in panic around Jin’s cock for a moment before he regains control of himself.

“Is that what you want?” the drummer purrs, hips moving smoothly as he tugs in short, relatively gentle jerks, drawing Yuuto’s head forward to meet his thrusts.

Yuuto moans around his cock—not because he agrees (though he does, secretly, deep down in that submissive corner of his mind), but because Manabu’s tongue penetrates him, slick and fuck, just, fuck because it’s good but so obviously not enough. One finger pushes in next to the guitarist’s tongue, and there are voices, but the words don’t register—things about not being ready and tightness and two is too much. He’s too focused on himself, on his need, and it’s when Jin yanks him backwards, pulling Yuuto off his cock with the obnoxious sound of broken suction that he focuses outward again.

It’s probably a sign of how long he’s been in this band (or how long and frequently he’s been having threesomes and moresomes) that Yuuto doesn’t bother questioning why Jin stopped him mid-blowjob (though he’s mildly insulted at being used as a fluffer, even if he’s used to it). More shifting behind him—Manabu switching out with someone, and one finger becomes two. It’s tight, almost painful, in the way that a good, hard stretch is just shy of hurting.

“Shit,” he gasps, body stiffening against his will, even as he savors the ache.

Byou growls, “Relax,” as Kazuki steps in front of Yuuto, hands already making quick work of his jeans. The bassist leans forward to take up with Kazuki what he left off with Jin, but the guitarist takes a step back.

“Patience,” he mocks, wrapping one hand around his own erection and pumping slowly.

“You want to come on my face?” Yuuto asks, looking at him with hooded eyes (only because he wouldn’t put it past Kazuki to spontaneously come just to get it in Yuuto’s eyes). It feels like he’s offering rather than asking, and maybe he is; the dirty shamelessness just makes him harder.

Hips jerking to meet his hand, Kazuki bites his lip and watches as Yuuto begins to stroke his own cock, matching Kazuki’s pace. “Maybe.”

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Byou’s voice is quiet, and Yuuto drops his hand, obeying automatically, closing his eyes as the vocalist uses three fingers to fuck him. The stretch isn’t terrible, but it’s anticipation of vaguely expected pain (it’s been a while, after all) that makes him tense again, and Byou murmurs nonsensical gibberish against his neck, crooking his fingers and moving them slowly until the soft grazing of his prostate causes him to relax in pleasure once again. The motion of Kazuki’s hand draws his attention away from himself, and he focuses on the glimpses of the reddened cockhead as Kazuki’s pulls hand and foreskin back. The guitarist is leaking precome already, and Yuuto bites his lip, unwilling to admit to himself that he wants to suck Kazuki off.

The fingers are withdrawn, and Yuuto hears Byou open a condom wrapper. The head of Byou’s cock rubs against his entrance, and Yuuto opens his mouth to say something insipid and trite like, “I’m not ready,” or “It’s not going to fit,” even though he know it does, and it will, and it is, slowly pushing into him.

“What—” He doesn’t mean to ask what; it’s obvious what. He’d just thought that since he was apparently being the group fluffer, that Byou would be next at his mouth, and he’d be left hanging on the edge for hours. Maybe he meant to say wait.

“You asked me, didn’t you?” Byou says lowly, fingers tightening as he thrusts hard.

He’d like to say something just a bit sarcastic back in reply, but he lacks the bravery (at least, in this situation—maybe if he were more clothed), and he’s so full, so stretched to his limit that he barely has room to breathe, to think.

“Yuuto,” Kazuki murmurs softly, finger-combing Yuuto’s hair.

Bending forward, he takes Kazuki into his mouth, tonguing the slit and sucking the cockhead before working his way lower, lips slick and shiny with spit. Pressing his tongue against the underside, he can dimly feel Kazuki’s pulse on his tongue if he stays still, strong and steady.

He knows that Jin’s fucking Manabu off to his left somewhere, but it doesn’t matter. What matters are Byou’s hands on his hips, Kazuki’s fingers twisted into his hair, the fact that he knows that Jin and Manabu are watching him. Maybe being deprived of it has made him a bit of an attention whore, but Yuuto doesn’t care, as long as he’s the center of attention. His hair is pulled, fisted tightly near his scalp, until his mouth is empty and slack, and Yuuto watches with half-closed, glassy eyes as Kazuki jerks himself off.

“Close your eyes,” Byou murmurs, his hips slowing to a steady rocking against his prostate, and Yuuto obeys, unable to stop himself from flinching as the initial spurt hits his cheek and the corner of his mouth. The next drips down his lips and chin, and the rest, he’s sure, land on his clothes, because they didn’t land on his face (should have taken off his shirt). It’s not the act itself that is erotic, it’s the fact that just a little humiliating, a little possessive, like some sort of primitive claiming ritual, and it’s being watched. Kazuki’s hand finally leaves his hair, and he barely has time to inhale when Byou twists a shock of hair about his hand and pulls backward, forcing Yuuto to arch backwards until his head is on Byou’s shoulder.

The fucking resumes, harder, faster, Yuuto held largely in place by his hair. In this position, every thrust slides directly over and against his prostate, and he can barely feel his legs because all the blood, all the nerves in his body go straight to his cock, pointing up towards his navel. And fuck, this position only makes him harder, stretched out and exposed while Kazuki watches and Jin and Manabu finish each other off in the corner.

“Please,” he whispers, hands closed into fists by his thighs. He wants—needs—he’s waited so long, and as Byou’s cock continues to rub over that spot, never letting up, Yuuto feels his balls draw up, feels the first thin cracks begin to appear.

“If I tell you to come, you won’t, will you,” Byou hisses, fingers tightening, and now it does hurt, pain prickling at his scalp, but he’s so far gone that it feels so good, arousal wrapping tightly around his cock. “Because if you don’t, then we won’t stop fucking you, and you don’t want us to stop, slut. Jin will fuck you, then Manabu, and Kazuki, and then we’ll get out your favorite—”

Byou grunts, cutting himself off as Yuuto’s body tightens, but it doesn’t matter; Yuuto can finish the picture in his mind, and it’s enough to release the pressure in his balls, his muscles, in a rush of jittery energy that induces an adrenaline-laced high, and his whole world centers on lost time. His pulse beats in slow motion, body contracting with the beat, while his mind floats and real time seems absurdly fast. It’s not blackness, or even whiteness, and it’s not that he passes out (that would just be embarrassing without breathplay), but there is no sound except his own ragged breathing, and he thinks he sees the rest of his group talking, but they seem so blurry and far away.

“It must have been good if you came before Byou gave you the reach around,” Kazuki comments. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Chr—what.” Yuuto blinks, still feeling a bit fuzzy. “It’s three days away.”

“It’s a bit early, but it’s your present,” Jin beams. “The best orgasm ever.”

“We just wanted to know how long it would take Yuu-chan to ask for it if we stopped. It was my idea~,” Kazuki says proudly.

Yuuto resists the urge to smack his forehead with his palm—Kazuki still has hold of one of his hands, anyway. “Of course it was.”

“But then you waited so long,” Manabu quietly says with his best guilt-tripping sad face on. Yuuto feels his heart twist a bit at that even as he inwardly rolls his eyes (of course the whole thing is now his fault).

“And they say the longer you delay, the better the orgasm, so we thought that since you were taking so long, we’d just wait until Christmas,” Jin explains. “But then you made it very difficult to wait.”

“I hope your next bassist fucks you all,” Yuuto mutters.

Jin laughs. “I hope he tries.” He exchanges a smirk with Byou.

“Change is always interesting,” Kazuki comments lightly, but his grip on Yuuto’s hand becomes tighter.

Manabu glares, and crawls over on his knees to hug the bassist tightly. “That means he’ll fuck you too. You don’t stop being part of SCREW just because you don’t play with us anymore.”

There’s a brief moment of warm, fuzzy silence, where Yuuto feels like he might possibly tear up just a bit.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Kazuki suggests. Yuuto shrugs, used to the randomness, and lifts one hand.

“Yuu-chan isn’t eligible~,” Jin declares in a sing-song voice.

“Why not?”

Byou looks at him, and though he’s not smirking, Yuuto can tell that the vocalist desperately wants to. “Because it’s for your ass.”

“Who—since when—” Yuuto stops. It’s pointless protesting that they don’t have the right to decide that when they’ve been doing it since they’ve been a band.

“But if he wins, he could use a vibrator,” Manabu points out. Several hands make a grab for Yuuto’s arm.

“You can play,” Kazuki declares generously.

Kazuki wins, and he gleefully proclaims that since they’ve tested the effect of not having sex for nearly a month on the orgasm, it’s time to test the effect of delaying the orgasm for as long as possible. Yuuto contemplates telling them that it’s not like he didn’t masturbate during the waiting period (pride only lasts for so long, and after his unsuccessful attempt at seducing Jin, he couldn’t wait any longer). But he doesn’t, if only because they really don’t need any more excuses to torture him (no matter how much he enjoys it).

“Four weeks is probably too long, ne?” Kazuki thinks aloud. ”We’ll start with oh—teasing you until tomorrow. You’ll tell us which is orgasm is better, won’t you, Yuu-chan~? Merry Christmas.”

a prohibition mc: screw - jin&yuuto - tru wuvliangzhu on August 6th, 2010 02:58 am (UTC)
a prohibition mc: screw - byou&yuuto - good friendsliangzhu on August 7th, 2010 12:45 am (UTC)
I win.

And I still feel crappy today, so we'll see how well this goes, but I felt the need to do something to feel like I'm not just a waste of space today. XD

So... asldjfawi. Everything is coming out all trite and lame in my head. *deep breath* Basically, I love that there is Yuuto all over this fic, and that it is like all of the SCREW x Yuuto fics/drabbles we seem to end up writing, but different enough that it's not like all of the SCREW x Yuuto fics/drabbles we write. XD The end result is the same (PWNage), but the mere idea of SCREW not jumping Yuuto all the time is like, totally novel. For us. I guess. XD


I love that Yuuto is not all reluctant and/or outraged by the pr0n, since sometimes I feel bad when they decide to orgy on him and he's protesting (just a little). XD I love that Aki is involved. >D I love that it comes down to Yuuto and Byou, even with the extra angst factor, and that Yuuto will be a ho for him. I want to use emoticons at the end of every sentence here, by the way. I do not totally love the bittersweetness just because of Yuuto being a bum and leaving, but I really love the "I hope your next bassist fucks you all" line, even though we didn't know who was joining at the time. I'll admit it took me a little while to warm up to Rui, not because I disliked/resented him or anything, but just because Yuuto was gooooone. ;_; But that line totally indicates SEQUEL to me. :D :D :D? I mean, I can't imagine that Yuuto and SCREW have cut off communication entirely... well, maybe for a little bit while Byou was sulking and emoing, but they did manage to end up in two bands together. So. I dunno.

:D? New bassist teaches old bassist new tricks (only to find that you can't teach an old bassist new tricks because SCREW pwns him too much)?

Watch me ramble to make this longer.

I see it going like this. Sorta.
a prohibition mc: screw - jin&yuuto - tru wuvliangzhu on August 7th, 2010 12:45 am (UTC)

Yuuto and Rui are not totally unfamiliar with one another. After all, they've both been in the business long enough, have several mutual friends, and it's not as though it's Rui's fault Yuuto left, so there's no real reason for them to avoid one another. Plus, Yuuto rather likes knowing that his parts are now in capable hands. ((inadvertant snerg about parts and hands.))

They meet over coffee, and end up at Yuuto's apartment after a discussion of basslines. Conversation moves smoothly - if sometimes a little nostalgically, but Yuuto tries his best to not seem like he's blaming Rui for anything, and Rui tries his best to not seem like he's bragging about anything - winding around to a topic that Yuuto has to admit he's been curious about.

"So you mean they've never cornered you and tried to..." he trails off, even his surprise not enough to let him finish the sentence.

Rui shakes his head, leaning way over the edge of Yuuto's tiny balcony to blow a lungful of cigarette smoke away from the apartment. "No, not really. I mean, it's come up, but they've never been that pushy about it."

Yuuto wonders aloud if that's because Byou and Kazuki and Jin still invite him over sometimes (Manabu's pretending to still be sulking, but magically turns up with the others half the time), and Rui gives him a look that he can't quite interpret before suggesting that maybe he just distracts them in different ways, and maybe Yuuto could try those, too.

It turns out that Yuuto's stance on smoking being evil means he can't bribe (under the pretense of gifting) anyone with cigarettes, that he's too soft-spoken to sound convincing when he tries to change the subject, that he's too much of a lightweight to drink anyone under the table, and that his general appearance and demeanor mean that no one really believes him when he tries to at least not be the one bent over or pressed up against the closest convenient surface every single time.

Rui sees the hickey instantly the next time they meet, and nods in understanding. "Maybe you need to change your image. Become more intimidating."

Yuuto's glance flickers to the ink crawling over Rui's skin. "I'm not getting a tattoo." He's pretty sure that the writhing-in-pain that would occur while getting a tattoo would completely negate any sort of manly image it would help him cultivate afterwards.

"You could get another piercing," Rui says as he leans forward, the very picture of helpful sympathy, and Yuuto doesn't know him quite well enough to know when he should been getting that feeling of approaching doom that he is so attuned to with the rest of SCREW. "I think mine are one of the reasons they don't think I'm as much of a pushover. Here," he adds, very kindly, and warning prickles inch up Yuuto's spine, "I'll let you decide which one is most effective."

The warning prickles dig sharp, desperate nails into his mind, but by the time Yuuto reacts, Rui's hand is tight around his wrist, and Rui's other hand is heavy on the back of his neck, and Rui's mouth tastes inexplicably like oranges.

Afterwards, Yuuto makes the mistake of telling Rui - nicely, nicely! it's a joke! - that piercing-wise, he's got nothing on Aki, and Rui decides a direct competition is needed to proove that.

(Yuuto can't keep the horror from his face when Rui ends the call and beams, "What luck! Kazuki said that Aki's completely free tonight."

They say a little knowledge goes a long way, and with Kazuki now aware of what had happened, he knows he might as well write the weekend off.)

(On the other hand, it does end up being almost just like old times, but Yuuto's too busy to feel nostalgic.)


Anyways. I love this \(^______________________________________________^)/ this much.

Also, imagine me using an icon of that Kazuuto kiss instead of repeating this one. XD Yuuto such a ho.
Panpot_and_kettle on August 21st, 2010 08:45 pm (UTC)

"Maybe you need to change your image. Become more intimidating."




Yuuto doesn't know him quite well enough to know when he should been getting that feeling of approaching doom

Rui decides a direct competition is needed to proove that.
I CONCUR. LET'S GET AKI IN HERE. RUI IS MISSING A KEY BASSIST IN ALL OF HIS FELLOW BASS SLUTTERY WITH YUKKE AND ....YUKKE. >.>; I'm sure theere are other bassist but right now I can only think of his guitarist bffs. _A_;

lzkjlkjzlkjlkajsldkfj zouicvb;ajeb ;akjf I'D LIKE TO DECIDE WHICH IS THE MOST EFFECTIVE.

I think Rui's age and experience count for a lot here. Of course, Yuuto isn't exactly a young'un, but whatever. I'm too tired to think about this coherently. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

Hm. I wonder where Rui's other piercings are. >D >DD >D Since, like, I STILL CAN'T FIND PICS OF HIS EARS. *______*



i love you \(^________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________^)/ THIS MUCH.

Panpot_and_kettle on August 21st, 2010 08:39 pm (UTC)
poicovb;aenr;aoishp8˙πøˆ˜¬ßµf;laksdf I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT WHEN I GOT THIS COMMENT THE NEXT MORNING I WAS ALL :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD ALL DAY. AND POSSIBLY THE NEXT. :DDDDDDDD Hahaha yes, totally novel. I don't even remember how I got this idea. I think I was like GOD I NEED TO NOT WRITE THE EXACT SAME SCREWFIC OVER AND OVER and then I think I reversed it out of desperation. I don't even think I had a REASON for SCREW not jumping Yuuto until about midway through, which is why it kept flirting with angst. :X BUT THIS IS KIND OF A REALLY AMAZING COMMENT ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU'RE USUALLY NOT THIS BABBLY AND FLAILY. :DDDDDD OIZHXCLVK *SQUISHES A LOT*

I am actually very fond of this Yuuto. He's all like. Corrupted and used to it and sort of a slut and is a little okay with that because he's used to receiving the attention and secretly thrives on it. Or something. WELL-USED. is what he is. XD

Hahahaha I WAS JUST THINKING I REALLY SHOULD SEQUEL IT. But now Rui is all like. Oh ho lookit me I MIGHT BE MORE S THAN YOU FIRST BELIEVED ME TO BE AND I TOLD YOU I WAS S SO THERE and then he's all A PRETTY GIRL what the fuck I AM SO CONFUSED ABOUT HIM I almost want to write him as an A/B character. Somehow I think if I wrote him he would end up being VERY MAO-ISH in my head. All :Db and :DV and politeness and completely owning you. :( ByouJin do not approve and neither do I. XD Also, I refuse to fic him until I see pics of the tongue piercing. IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING.

New Tricks and Old Tricks/Bassists could be fun. I like this.
Panpot_and_kettle on August 21st, 2010 08:33 pm (UTC)
l33t_dreams: hachi-flaill33t_dreams on May 1st, 2011 09:55 pm (UTC)
Well, here I am, almost a year later since I stupidly neglected to ever friend this journal and you never nudged me about it. >_>


The break then, they must be waiting for the break, he thinks.
I was getting a jittery by this point. And I used to be so good with handling anticipation and delays. Clearly I am way out of practice.

Unfortunately, nothing changes the following day, or the day after, or the day after that. He doesn’t understand why he’s been shut out of the loop.

alternate reality where SCREW is a band that acts like a band, not an orgy that breaks for music-making

Kazuki lacks the most (or any) self-control.
This is why reading/writing SCREW is so fun~

he tries for Manabu, wistfully, quietly speaking of loneliness and the growing distance between them with a quivering chin and damp eyes
This cracked me up, mostly because my mind got sidetracked with scenarios of appealing to Manabu's squishy cuddly side. (Speaking of which, I about died when Byou called him Bubu-chan over twitter.) How skilled Yuuto must be to be able to walk that fine line of forlornness and cheesiness.

and when Yuuto whispers, “I feel so lonely,” Jin finally grabs him in a tight hug
How deliciously manipulative. Emotional blackmail indeed. :D

“I was thinking that we should have another themed live, or do one with old costumes,” the bassist says as he recovers
Hmmm, this has a tinge of desperation. Of course after nearly a month....

Byou’s fingers obediently curve, palm flush against his ass, index and middle fingers sliding over his perineum until they barely graze his balls

“Whatever you’re waiting for, just—stop. And fuck me.”
*whines more*


“You want to come on my face?” Yuuto asks
That is so hot...

(only because he wouldn’t put it past Kazuki to spontaneously come just to get it in Yuuto’s eyes)
...and that is so cruel.

It’s not the act itself that is erotic, it’s the fact that just a little humiliating, a little possessive, like some sort of primitive claiming ritual
*nods knowingly* I mean, what? I wouldn't know anything about this sort of activity.

The fucking resumes, harder, faster, Yuuto held largely in place by his hair.
God, I have seriously missed reading your porn. SERIOUSLY.

Jin will fuck you, then Manabu, and Kazuki, and then we’ll get out your favorite—”
one could be so lucky...

"But then you waited so long,” Manabu quietly says with his best guilt-tripping sad face on.
OMG, I'm sure this look could destroy worlds.

AAAHHHHH I HAVE HAD SUCH A LACK OF PORN IN MY LIFE SINCE....SINCE...FOR LIKE THAT LAST YEAR OR MORE TT_____TT I think I will have to re-immerse myself in jrock and porn to get through my upcoming summer of hell~