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The officers meeting had dragged on far too long, with inconsequential men blustering about inconsequential things. Daigo appeared unruffled—to most of the men, no doubt, but Yoshitaka could see the faint tension bracketing his mouth. He could almost feel Daigo’s urge to roll his eyes and his own burned in sympathy.
The latest filibuster had dragged on long enough, apparently, as Daigo raised a hand to gesture for silence. His mouth moved as he spoke, but Yoshitaka didn’t recognize any of the words as his attention was caught by the bruise ringing Daigo’s wrist, barely visible as his sleeve shifted, and quickly hidden when he returned his hand to his knee.
No doubt he should be paying attention to what Daigo was saying, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to the origin of the bruise.
Daigo had been skeptical when Yoshitaka had produced the handcuffs, though his argument against them had been token at best. It had been mere minutes later that his clothes had been folded neatly on a chair and he’d stretched naked across Yoshitaka’s bed, watching Yoshitaka’s face with an eyebrow quirked as Yoshitaka snapped a handcuff around Daigo’s wrist and fastened the other end around the wrought iron rails of his headboard. His breath had quickened as Yoshitaka repeated it with his other wrist, leaving Daigo with his arms spread over his head.
Daigo had tested the restraints, then turned his attention back to Yoshitaka with a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Now that you have me where you want me, what do you plan to do with me?”
Yoshitaka had laughed as he stripped off his jacket, hanging it over Daigo’s on the back of the chair, then methodically removed the rest of his clothes and piled them with much less care over Daigo’s. “Isn’t it obvious?” When Daigo merely frowned at him, Yoshitaka had laughed again. “I wonder how much it’ll take before you’re screaming my name.”
Daigo had rolled his eyes at that, and a pang of fondness lit in Yoshitaka’s chest—a pang he ruthlessly shoved down to ponder later. “I don’t scream,” Daigo had grouched.
Yoshitaka had hummed an acknowledgement but left the assertion uncontested as he’d sat on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Daigo’s ankle. Daigo twitched beneath his hand and Yoshitaka had let a smirk play over his lips as he rolled onto a hip to allow him to replace his hand with his mouth, nipping at the protruding joint.
Daigo’s curse had been his reward, and Yoshitaka had circled the joint with his tongue before catching Daigo’s foot and running his fingers over the sole. Another curse had accompanied the reflexive kick at Yoshitaka’s inadvertent tickling, and Yoshitaka had chuckled as he relinquished his hold to instead run his fingertips up Daigo’s shin.
“You’re an ass,” Daigo had grumbled as Yoshitaka’s fingers reached his knee, dipping to stroke behind it in a playful caress. Despite his complaint, his cock had already been showing an interest, hardening as Yoshitaka resumed his upward journey. The muscle of Daigo’s thigh had been firm against Yoshitaka’s palm, flexing under his touch as Daigo drew his knee up, as though chasing more contact.
When Yoshitaka had abandoned Daigo’s thigh to repeat the process up his other leg, Daigo made a frustrated sound and spread his legs in obvious invitation. Yoshitaka had chuckled and replaced his fingers with his tongue, licking a broad swipe up Daigo’s thigh, delicately tracing the lines of tense muscle with the tip.
It wasn’t until Yoshitaka’s tongue dipped toward Daigo’s inner thigh that Daigo had pulled against the cuffs, rattling the chains binding him to the headboard. Yoshitaka had glanced at his face, eyes meeting Daigo’s briefly before he turned his attention back to his path, lapping his way over Daigo’s balls. Daigo’s cock had leapt at the contact and Yoshitaka had had to tamp down his swell of pride—he was responsible for that, he held Daigo at his mercy.
It was with thoughts of a reward that Yoshitaka had run his tongue up the length of Daigo’s shaft, drawing an inarticulate sound from Daigo as his hips bucked. A moment later, Daigo had barked a laugh. “You don’t eat meat.”
Yoshitaka had lifted his head to give Daigo the scornful glance that deserved, then ruined it with a chuckle. “I’ll make an exception.” He’d smirked at the widening of Daigo’s eyes, and held eye contact as long as he could before he had to turn his attention to the tip of Daigo’s cock as it slid between his lips.
Although Daigo’s low groan had its appeal, a clumsy blowjob wasn’t what Yoshitaka had in mind, and he’d simply swirled his tongue around Daigo’s captive cock before releasing it to nip the skin below Daigo’s navel. The dip of his tongue in the sensitive divot had made Daigo’s belly heave as he shuddered and sucked in a breath, and Yoshitaka had pinned Daigo’s hips with his hands to hold him down as he did it again.
His position had become awkward, a situation Yoshitaka had remedied by shifting to his hands and knees, nudging Daigo’s legs farther apart as he settled between them and pressed a kiss to Daigo’s belly, just above his erect cock. The handcuff chains had rattled again and Yoshitaka smiled to himself as he nibbled his way over Daigo’s abs, nipping sharply at the swell of tight muscles.
“Yosh—“ Daigo had begun, only to snap his teeth shut when Yoshitaka found one of Daigo’s nipples and sucked it hard into his mouth. He had been rewarded by a muffled “Fuck!” instead—an acceptable alternative, much as he enjoyed hearing his name in Daigo’s voice gravelly with arousal. A scrape of teeth over the captive nipple had had Daigo pulling at the handcuffs again, and Yoshitaka chuckled as he licked his way across Daigo’s pecs to lavish the same attention to Daigo’s other nipple.
Yoshitaka’s belly had scraped over Daigo’s erection as he slid further up his body, drawing a groan from Daigo that was muffled by his bitten lip. That wouldn’t do—he enjoyed hearing Daigo’s unfettered sounds much more—and Yoshitaka had rubbed himself against Daigo for a moment before surging up to catch Daigo’s lower lip between his teeth and pull it free from Daigo’s hold.
As close as they were, Yoshitaka had been able to see that Daigo’s eyes were a thin ring of honeyed chocolate around his blown pupils, and the sight of Daigo so aroused had made Yoshitaka’s cock throb. Yoshitaka had kept his eyes locked to Daigo’s as he’d sucked Daigo’s lower lip between his, teeth nipping almost playfully before he had opened his mouth for a proper kiss.
Daigo’s eyes had fallen shut and Yoshitaka briefly missed the connection of his gaze, but its loss was more than made up for by the swell of Daigo’s cock against his as Yoshitaka had finished his slow slide up Daigo’s body, slotting himself between Daigo’s spread legs. The handcuffs had rattled again, but Yoshitaka ignored it as he tangled his tongue with Daigo’s, tantalized by the flavor of whisky that Daigo’s mouth had still held.
Yoshitaka had relinquished his mouth only when Daigo twisted his head to a side, breaking the kiss as he slit his eyes open, studying Yoshitaka from their corners. “If you intend to fuck me, I’d suggest getting to it,” he’d husked, dark tone belying the teasing barely visible in his narrowed eyes and the slight tilt of his lips.
Yoshitaka had caught Daigo’s chin in his fingers and tugged him back for another kiss, barely feathered over his lips, then stretched past him to the bottle he’d long-since learned to keep handy on his bedside table. A pump had coated his fingers and slid down to his palm as he rolled to a side, lazily grinding his cock against Daigo’s thigh as his fingers had teased Daigo’s taint before sliding back to circle his clenching hole.
Another muffled groan had reached Yoshitaka’s ears and he’d glanced at Daigo’s intense expression with a smirk as he’d breached Daigo’s hole with a slick finger. He’d pistoned the digit with careful control, his slow pace forcing an emphatic curse instead of yet another groan. He had relished the sharp tone as much as he had the harsh language and wasted no time in rewarding Daigo with another finger, scissoring them within Daigo’s tight passage.
Daigo hadn’t bothered to muffle his next groan, an eager sound that might have built from his toes before rumbling from his lips, and Yoshitaka hadn’t been able to keep from claiming another kiss, a rough press of lips that Daigo had met eagerly. They’d kissed as Yoshitaka pumped his fingers in Daigo’s ass, until he’d loosened enough for Yoshitaka to slide in a third finger and seek out the bundle of nerves that had Daigo’s teeth snapping shut as his hips had lifted from the bed.
Yoshitaka had hummed a pleased sound and nuzzled the side of Daigo’s neck, then skimmed his teeth over Daigo’s shoulder, tense as he pulled against the handcuffs. “Easy,” Yoshitaka had murmured as his fingers slid from Daigo’s body, and flicked his tongue over the pulse point throbbing at Daigo’s throat.
Daigo’s jaw had tensed, almost as tight as the muscles of his arms as he’d yanked at the handcuffs. “Fuck me, Yoshitaka,” he’d ground out, and it would’ve taken a stronger man than Yoshitaka to disobey the leashed command in his voice.
Another pump of lube had filled Yoshitaka’s palm, cool as he’d slicked it over his aching cock. He had positioned himself between Daigo’s legs and hooked an arm under Daigo’s knee, pushing it up as he grabbed his cock with his other hand and nudged it against Daigo’s hole. He’d held himself steady as he’d rocked his hips, barely pushing in at all before withdrawing again, until Daigo had huffed and glared at him.
“If you’re going to be gentle, you can stop now.”
Yoshitaka had chuckled darkly at Daigo’s gripe, and the next rock of his hips became a hard thrust that buried him to the root in Daigo’s ass. A groan had bubbled from his throat as Daigo had gasped, brows drawing together as he’d bitten his lip again and lifted his hips into Yoshitaka’s invasion.
“Daigo,” Yoshitaka had murmured, then levered himself up on a sticky hand and took in the image they made: Daigo with his bound arms pulling the handcuff chains taut and his knee shoved out and up, baring himself to Yoshitaka’s hungry gaze as he looked down at where they were joined. Yoshitaka hadn’t been able to look away, even as he slowly withdrew, then thrust in at the same torturous pace, not sure if he was teasing Daigo or himself.
“Stop that,” Daigo had ordered, and Yoshitaka had surged over him to bury himself fully within Daigo’s body again as he’d crushed his lips against Daigo’s. His tongue had invaded Daigo’s mouth with the same fervor as the thrust of his hips, setting a punishing rhythm as he’d fucked deeply into Daigo. Daigo had moaned enthusiastically around Yoshitaka’s tongue and dug a heel into the mattress, using the leverage to grind his hips into Yoshitaka’s thrusts, his thick cock streaking Yoshitaka’s belly with wet lines of precum..
Yoshitaka had ripped his mouth away as he threw back his head, words caught behind his clenched teeth—soft words, words that had nothing to do with him, with them. Instead, he had focused on the clutch of Daigo’s tunnel around his cock, slick and hot and so very perfect as he’d driven himself into it over and over again.
The rhythmic flex of Daigo’s hips had turned into a stuttering mess as Daigo chased his orgasm, expression pinched with an intensity that had shot straight to Yoshitaka’s cock. It had become a race then, as Yoshitaka had desperately fought off the pleasure tightening in his balls to see Daigo fall apart.
When Daigo had shattered, it wasn’t with the scream that Yoshitaka had hoped for—but known he wouldn’t get—but with a choked sound that was somehow just as appealing, a sound of weakness that Yoshitaka doubted anyone else had ever heard—a sound that was his. As Daigo had anchored himself with the handcuffs and arched hard enough that only his shoulders remained on the mattress, Yoshitaka had thrust one last time into Daigo and come with an inarticulate shout.
Yoshitaka had pressed his forehead against Daigo’s shoulder as they’d come down, breathing in the musky smells of sweat and cum. Daigo had jostled him by tugging again on the handcuffs and Yoshitaka lifted his head with a breathless chuckle. “Give me a moment.”
Daigo had hummed and dropped his head heavily against a pillow. After a few more breaths, Yoshitaka had reached for the key next to the bottle of lube on the side table and unlocked the cuffs around Daigo’s wrists. When Daigo’s arms had dropped limply, he picked up one of Daigo’s hands and massaged the palm as he studied the angry red mark circling Daigo’s wrist. “I hurt you,” he’d said, and tugged Daigo’s captive hand to his lips to press a light kiss against the mark. “Why did you let me?”
Daigo had studied him silently for a moment, then curled his fingers weakly around Yoshitaka’s. “I wanted it.” He’d chuckled at Yoshitaka’s skeptical expression and sat up to brush his lips along Yoshitaka’s cheekbone. “You really think you could’ve done that if I didn’t?”
Yoshitaka had released Daigo’s hand to pin him down with a hand on his shoulder. “Yes,” he’d said, then kissed away the mutinous turn of Daigo’s lips. When they’d broken apart, he’d continued, “But we’ll never know for sure, will we?”
“We won’t,” Daigo had agreed, and wrapped his arms around Yoshitaka’s shoulders to pull him into another kiss.
“Mine-san? Mine-san.”
Yoshitaka kept his expression blank only thanks to years of practice as he pulled his attention from the memory and turned it to Daigo, who was watching him with amusement sparking his dark eyes.
“What did you think of that proposal?”
Yoshitaka fought a frown at Daigo’s droll question. “I don’t have an answer for you, Sixth Chairman,” he deflected. “I’ll consider it.”
“Please do.” Daigo held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned his attention away from Yoshitaka again.
Yoshitaka sat back as the conversation flowed around him, until awareness of observation prickled over his skin. He’d glanced furtively around the room until he caught the single dark eye that belonged to Majima. He tilted his head slightly in question, unease prickling down his spine when Majima’s implacable expression gave way to a conspiratorial smirk.
As Yoshitaka watched, Majima looked down at his hands and deliberately tugged his sleeves down, straightening the cuffs with a casual flourish. As he tweaked the second cuff into place, he’d blinked—winked?—slowly at Yoshitaka, then settled back into his usual sprawl, hands folded over his belly.
Fuck.
Yoshitaka watched him for a moment more, but Majima had already slid back into his usual insouciance, so he instead turned his gaze back to Daigo and the meeting going on around him. So Majima knew. At least it seemed the man was willing to keep their secret—which was good, as the least of what Yoshitaka was willing to do to protect it was kill.
He flicked a gaze to Majima one last time, then curled his hands over his knees and attended the conversation again. The meeting couldn’t be over soon enough—he had some first aid plans that wouldn’t keep much longer.