Butoukan, Hush

Title: Hush [Yara/Yamamoto]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Butoukan goes to the onsen to bond; Yamaryo and Yara bond a little more closely than originally intended.
AN: Written for yararanger‘s birthday present. Happy birthday, kouhai~ Also this is pretty much entirely based on the ‘plot’ of the Go Guy Plus DVD Laun(dry), which is pretty much the cutest GG+ thing ever.

Hush

It had been Takizawa’s idea initially, a trip to bond before the hard work started, but none of them had objected. After all, who was going to say no to a trip to the onsen on Tackey-senpai’s dime? Yara had offered to drive, the van more convenient than trains and buses since the place was rather out of the way, but with it already getting dark and the roads getting narrower and more winding the further they went, he was starting to wonder if maybe somebody who actually knew where they were going would have been a better choice.

At least that way he would have preserved the image that Yara-senpai always knew what he was doing until they actually started practicing as Butoukan.

In the back, Tsukada was having an exchange with Bunichi which could only be described as puzzling, while Senga’s Tsuka-translation attempts were not improving the matter. In the front passenger seat, Yamamoto was obviously listening in to the extent that if he’d had cat ears they would have been perked cutely, but every time Yara looked over, Yamamoto was holding up the map studiously.

“I wouldn’t mind, you know,” Yara finally said. He shrugged a shoulder towards the backseat when Yamamoto looked up, a question mark practically visible over his head. “If you wanted to move back and join them?”

“Oh!” It wasn’t so dark yet that Yara couldn’t see the stripe of pink appear over Yamamoto’s nose. “N-no, that’s, I mean I don’t, I…” An explosion of giggles from the backseat interrupted Yamamoto’s stammer. Yamamoto took a deep breath and tried again. “You need help with the map. I don’t mind helping Yara-san.”

“Okay,” Yara agreed simply, turning his attention back to the road. “But you don’t have to call me that, you know. We’re in the same unit now, there’s no need to be so formal.”

“W-what,” Yamamoto asked, “should I call you?”

For a split second Yara considered any number of things Yamamoto might call him in that cute stutter when he was stretched out under Yara, wrists pinned and more than just his nose flushed pink, before he got a hold of himself. No, he scolded himself, bad Yara! He was supposed to be focusing on unit bonding, not on the myriad of Arashi-approved sexual positions that involved the use of yukata ties.

“Yara-kun?” he suggested, in answer to the question. “You could try Yaracchi, I suppose. You’re cute enough I might let you get away with it.”

Whoops, that might have been a little far, Yara thought when Yamamoto’s face went even pinker and he busied himself with the map for the next three kilometers without looking up. Yara wasn’t completely unaware of Yamamoto’s interest in him, of how he’d been using Tatsumi as cover to creep steadily closer to him. It was probably one of the reasons Tackey had picked Yamamoto for the project, damn his habit of meddling like a little old lady.

But as easy as it would be, Yara wasn’t trying to give the poor kid a heart attack, since they did have to work together after all. He was just trying to loosen Yamamoto up, so he wouldn’t trip all over either his feet or his tongue when Yara was next to him on stage. It was going to take a light touch, clearly, something Yara was emphatically not a master of, even when the kouhai in question wasn’t proving to be just a little too interesting, just a little too adorable to resist poking at.

Like a snake with a cute mouse, he could practically hear Tatsumi laughing at him. It’s not nice to play with your food~.

“I think it’s the next turn, Yara-kun,” Yamamoto said softly, eyes appearing just over the edge of the map.

Well, shit, Yara thought, pressing his legs together a little more tightly.

*****

When they did finally arrive and tumble out of the van, everyone was in need of a stretch and food, and had been cooped up way too long. Yara felt more like a kindergarten teacher than a group leader in the lobby as he tried to sign them in and get the keys all while making sure Tsukada didn’t ask other guests weird questions and Senga didn’t wander off and stop making a tower out of our bags, for crying out loud!

“Honestly!” he shooed all of them out the door and off to their room, making sure nobody left their stuff or anybody else’s lying around. Yamamoto was last to go, sneaking looks over his shoulder as if to make sure Yara was still behind him. “Keep moving, Orpheus.”

“Who?” Yamamoto asked, taking a long enough look that he tripped a little over an uneven part of the path. “W-what?”

“He’s the guy who goes to the underworld to get his wife back,” Bunichi chimed in from in front of them. “But he has to promise not to look over his shoulder at her the whole way back, only he can’t, so he loses her after all.”

“Isn’t Orpheus about Germans?” Senga asked, face scrunched in confusion.

“That’s an anime, idiot,” Yara chided, grabbing Yamamoto’s shoulders when he tripped again and nearly went down in a flailing heap, distracted by trying to look between all of their conversations. “You, face front! Watch where you’re going. I’m here, okay?”

“It’s ’cause it’s dark!” Yamamoto protested, but not dark enough to hide how he was blushing, unfortunately for him.

The whole evening was a string of things that Yamamoto looked entirely too cute doing, all of it multiplied four times over by the way the hotel yukata draped alluringly over his skinny frame, the way it kept slipping open a little because he’d gotten distracted several times while trying to tie it. It had taken every ounce of Yara’s willpower not to reach over and undo it to start all over, except he knew himself well enough to know that once it was undone, it was unlikely that he would do it over instead of just leaving it.

He tried to distract himself with food during dinner, which was sort of a success since they were all starving and the food itself was excellent and abundant enough to even satisfy Johnny’s, even ones who had had dance practice before bundling into a van for hours. But it wasn’t long before Yamamoto’s noises of pleasure cut through even Yara’s Food Mode.

“Oooh,” Yamamoto was humming happily, “this is so good, oh my god.” When he noticed Yara watching, Yamamoto squirmed a little, but was too pleased to get that embarrassed. Instead he asked if Yara wanted some too. “If there’s anything of mine you wanted to try, I m-mean.”

Wow, Yara thought, quickly taking some tempura-ed sweet potato and hoping it at all looked like that’s what he’d been staring at. Beside him, Yamamoto kept up a string of delighted noises and sighs that had Yara fidgeting the rest of the meal.

They tried out the onsen after that, which was even more very very danger, but at least Yara could slouch in the water and hope the steam made it too dark to see anything. The others were horsing around while Yara loitered near the wall, Tsukada and Senga splashing each other like idiots, since it was late enough that there were no other guests to bother at the moment. Yamamoto was fooling around with them at first, but when they got a bit rough and Yamamoto came up spluttering and coughing, he snuck over to hide out near Yara’s (rather dubious) safety.

“Save me?” he asked, plainly trying to tease. Yamamoto’s cheeks were pink and hair was sticking to his cheeks in little whorls, and Yara submerged himself just that much deeper. He was definitely not going to be able to get out of this pool anytime soon.

“What makes you think I’m so safe?” Yara asked with a snort.

“Yara-kun would definitely take care of me,” Yamamoto said earnestly.

“Kid, you have no idea,” Yara said under his breath, then cleared his throat when Yamamoto tilted his head. “Speaking of taking care, you know you’re pink all over right? Don’t stay in here until you’re totally overheated, if you come back with a cold, Tackey’s going to kill me.”

“Ehehe,” Yamamoto chuckled sheepishly. Yara pursed his lips and pointed back inside, and Yamamoto scrambled out of the pool without any more encouragement than Yara’s say-so.

And if Yara happened to sneak a peek, well, they were all men, right? No harm in looking.

*****

At least, that was what he was trying to tell himself later that night when the others were all asleep and Yara was lying awake at the end of the row, wishing the moonlight weren’t highlighting Yamamoto’s sleeping face quite so perfectly. Yamamoto stirred and gave a soft sigh, hair in his face and begging to be brushed back, and Yara was forced to admit that even just looking was not in fact harmless so far as Yamamoto was concerned.

He heaved a frustrated sigh, irritated with himself for turning a relaxing trip into a marathon of self-control, then froze when Yamamoto stirred again.

“Yara-kun?” Yamamoto blinked at him, eyelids heavy with sleep. “Can’t you sleep?”

Yara glanced over Yamamoto at the other three, all sleeping soundly and at least two of them snoring. They were all worn out from the early practice and the long day, but tomorrow they would be well-rested and not nearly such heavy sleepers. If Yara was going to make his move—his gaze flicked from Yamamoto’s sleepy confusion back to the lumps of the other three in their futons—tonight would clearly be safest.

Sighing in self-defeat, Yara told himself sternly that this was the worst idea ever, and then promptly ignored his own advice.

He slide over to the very edge of his futon, close enough that he could whisper as quietly as possible. “Ne, Ryota…do you like me?”

Yamamoto’s eyes widened and darted to the side, panicky, and the cute pink strip re-appeared over the bridge of his nose. But after a couple seconds, he nodded.

“Mm, good. Then shall we play a little?” Holding his breath, Yara held up the edge of his blanket in invitation. He wasn’t sure Yamamoto would go for his offer, sudden as it was, but just as he was about to back off and claim he was joking, Yamamoto shuffled over until he was tucked up against Yara’s side, skin impossibly warm. “Are you sure?”

“Mm.” Yamamoto nodded once. He glanced over his shoulder. “What about…?”

“You’ll just have to keep very quiet,” Yara murmured into Yamamoto’s ear, enjoying the delicious shiver that worked its way down Yamamoto’s body. “Do you think you can do that?”

Pressing his lips together tightly, Yamamoto nodded, and Yara moved to kiss him before he could start breaking his own rule.

He rolled them over so that he was firmly on top of Yamamoto, the thin cotton of the yukata barely blocking the heat of Yamamoto’s skin at all. It was the best sort of tease, almost better than being skin-to-skin for the moment, because it hinted at what that would be like but then let Yara’s mind fill in all the gaps. Yamamoto opened his mouth willingly at the first brush of Yara’s tongue against his lips, thin arms wrapping around Yara’s neck with surprising strength.

Yara begin to rock against Yamamoto almost without intending to do so. He was already hard himself, having spent most of the day in that state or close to it, and half-afraid Yamamoto might spook if he pushed too hard. Relief flooded through his veins, fizzing under his skin, when Yamamoto lifted his hips in response and Yara felt a hard length press up against the crease of his thigh. He kisses Yamamoto harder, all but devouring him, swallowing the soft noises he could feel Yamamoto making but not hear.

Yamamoto whined softly when Yara pulled away and sat up, but quieted to a pout when Yara put a warning finger to his lips. He seemed less opposed a second later when he figured out that Yara was going for the ties of their yukata. It took a few seconds to undo the knots, a few seconds more than that when Yamamoto started to ‘help,’ but the anticipation felt good too, the way his skin was prickling with the wait.

Finally he got then both undone enough to tug Yamamoto’s yukata open the whole way down, enjoying the way it hung off his shoulders but hid exactly nothing more than he probably should have. Yamamoto shivered under Yara’s stare but didn’t move to cover himself, just stared up at Yara with those trusting brown eyes, flush working down his chest and cock hard against his stomach.

“This picture is definitely worth a thousand words,” Yara murmured, then choked down a laugh when Yamamoto narrowed his eyes and shushed him.

Making sure he was lined up properly, Yara fell back on Yamamoto, hands coming down on top of Yamamoto’s, pinning them up near his head. He rolled his hips and their cocks slid perfectly together, making Yamamoto curl his fingers through Yara’s and arch against him. Even without a free hand to wrap around them, Yara thought he could probably get off like this if he took his time, the slow burn of it already licking fire over his skin.

It probably wouldn’t end up very quiet, though, Yara was forced to admit through the haze of lust already fogging up his reason. Another time, he promised himself. Next time, at home, he had a few other things planned that he didn’t currently have the supplies or the privacy for, and then he was going to coax every noise possible out of Yamamoto’s delicate little throat.

“Should I get you off like this?” he whispered in Yamamoto’s ear before he could convince himself it was an excellent idea after all, “or is there something else you want?”

“Like w-what?” Yamamoto asked, voice wavering with the struggle to keep quiet.

Grinning, Yara slide down suddenly and licked a hot, broad stripe over one of Yamamoto’s nipples, making him squeak before he slapped a hand over his own mouth. His eyes were huge, asking silently there’s no way you mean what I think you do, right?

Yara licked his lips deliberately in answer. Yup, I mean that all right.

“Please?” Yamamoto whispered, quietly enough that Yara was more lip-reading than actually hearing it, but it was more than enough green light for him. Sliding down the rest of the way, he gave Yamamoto a teasing lick, then had to press his mouth to the inside of Yamamoto’s thigh to keep himself from laughing out loud at the desperate whine Yamamoto gave, muffled behind his hand.

“Okay?” he mouthed, expecting Yamamoto to glare and looking forward to the adorableness of that. But it wasn’t that much of a disappointment when instead Yamamoto just looked significantly over to their three roommates and then back again.

He blinked once, message entirely clear. If you tease, I won’t be responsible for what happens.

Got it. Hooking an arm under Yamamoto’s thigh to anchor him in place and pressing the other flat against Yamamoto’s stomach, Yara wrapped his mouth around the first few inches of Yamamoto’s cock and began sucking in earnest. And really, he was only getting what he deserved for being such a smug tease, because the noises that Yamamoto were muffling so effectively were entirely delicious. Yara shivered to think what they would sound like unmuffled, full-throated, when he held Yamamoto down and made him wail at the top of his—

Yamamoto gave Yara’s hair a sharp yank, clearly as a warning, but they were still going to have words about that later. Yara didn’t move, although he did glance up long enough to see Yamamoto panting silently, eyes squeezed shut, and that was before Yara dragged his thumb down to brush across Yamamoto’s entrance.

That was the last straw before Yamamoto came undone, stomaching trembling and pushing up against Yara’s hand, thigh muscles shivering where they were brushing Yara’s arms and shoulders. Yara held his ground, sucking and licking Yamamoto clean until he went slack against the futon, chest rising and falling irregularly under Yara’s hand as Yamamoto gasped for breath.

“Y-yara…”

Crawling up, over top of Yamamoto, Yara fused their mouths together before he could say anything else irresistible. His own cock was hard enough to get its own MC corner, but he only ground it against Yamamoto’s hip, unwilling to sit up or to stop kissing Yamamoto. Yamamoto was clutching at him desperately, still shaking from aftershocks, making the tiniest, sweetest noises of pleasure into Yara’s mouth.

“What about—” Yamamoto tried to ask, but couldn’t finish the thought before Yara sucked away the rest of the oxygen, far past the point of reason. And then suddenly Yamamoto hooked a leg around the back of Yara’s thighs (bless the flexibility of his new dancers!) and changed the angle so that Yara was rubbing in a clean line along his own still-damp cock.

“Ryota,” Yara groaned softly, dragging his mouth away from Yamamoto’s and burying his face against Yamamoto’s neck, so that he wouldn’t be the one who broke the only rule they had. Yamamoto clutched at the back of Yara’s yukata with one hand, and combed through Yara’s hair with the other, and Yara’s release was like the slow, hot bloom of a summer firework, all adrenaline and bright afterimages when he squeezed his eyes shut.

When he came back to himself, Yamamoto was still running fingers through his hair, breath rising and falling under Yara’s weight. Yara pushed himself up on a shaky arm to examine Yamamoto’s face.

“Okay?” he murmured, reaching up with his other hand to push hair back out of Yamamoto’s eyes. Yamamoto nodded quickly, nuzzling his cheek against Yara’s palm like a cat, eyes slit in contentment.

His grip tightened when Yara started to roll off. “Stay?”

He shouldn’t, shouldn’t even have considered it given how much they’ve already gotten away with, but Yamamoto was warm and comfortable underneath him, eyes pleading hopefully.

“Just a bit,” he warned, “not the whole way until morning.” He sat up, grimacing a little when their skin peeled apart, and threw the sides of Yamamoto’s yukata back over each other, just enough to make it plausible that it had come loose in his sleep. He did the same to his own before curling back up against Yamamoto’s side, hitching the blanket up over their shoulders.

“Hey, we can do this more, right?” Yamamoto wanted to know when they were snuggled close enough that he could ask without being shushed. “At home?” His eyes flicked nervously up to Yara’s and then off to the side. “This isn’t just the once, i-is it?”

“Yeah, we can,” Yara answered, brushing lips over the sharp edge of Yamamoto’s jaw. “Now go to sleep.” Before you give me any other genius ideas and I stop caring who we might wake up.

There was plenty of space and time for that in Yara’s apartment, once they were home.

~A long while later~

“Yaracchi?” Yamamoto’s voice was soft, but Yara rolled over in his futon at the sound of it. He found Yamamoto bundled under his blanket all except for a bleached poof of hair and sparkling brown eyes.

“Yeah?” Yara snuck a look over Yamamoto’s shoulder at the rest of THEY Budou, all their breathing deep and even, worn out from exploring the onsen baths and stuffing themselves silly during their first day of their own bonding retreat.

“Do you like me?” Yamamoto asked, and when Yara just blinked at him, he held up the edge of his blanket in invitation, revealing a gleeful grin. “Then shall we play?”

Yara chuckled even as he slid over, into the blissful heat of Yamamoto’s pre-warmed bedding. “You brat.”

“Mmm,” Yamamoto just answered, tilting his head up for a kiss which Yara gladly granted him.

Things were just starting to get interesting when a throat was cleared loudly, making both of them startle and turn their heads.

THE were all watching them openly.

“You really did fuck next to Butoukan!” Eda accused. “I owe Tsuka-chan a thousand yen, you perverts!”

“Hush, you.” Hayashi grinned widely at them. “You don’t have to stop on our account.”

“Yeah, hurry up and get to the good stuff,” Takahashi cat-called. “We can’t see a damned thing like that.”

“We did not fuck next to anybody,” Yara informed them crisply, keeping half an eye on how a red-faced Yamamoto was squeaking in embarrassment and trying to hide fully underneath him. “So you can either take Tsuka-chan’s thousand yen, or make him eat it, your choice.”

“We could always keep ourselves occupied?” Hayashi offered, “if that would make you two feel less sh—” then he cut off as the other two began beating him soundly with their pillows.

Yara’s lips twitched in amusement, and he glanced down to find Yamamoto peeking out in interest despite his scarlet cheeks. Clearly, THEY Budou was going to be a very different sort of unit than Butoukan had been.