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unmeiboyToxic
Senga/Kitayama, minor Senga/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 2600 words, NC-17. Exhibitionism, public sex, mentions of drugs and alcohol
The other reason Senga enters the underground club has nothing to do with business.
A/N: Highly related to Sha la la☆Summer Time covers. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
natsunishi for the idea ;3
Senga walks through the underground club with a straight face, paying no mind to the people around him; the pretty girls, the pretty boys, all with make-up and clothes gradually getting more and more disheveled from the dancing, the drinking. The money being exchanged for pills or powder in dark corners will be what gets them all the way to the top, will make them fall down, and come back for more. Money that will end up in Senga's pockets.
He's there to check up on business, and judging by the look of both his dealers and the guests, it is thriving. It's not the only reason he's there, though. The other reason is much more of personal interest, and also the reason he's headed for the bar. It's not a large club but there's still a decent crowd in front of it, and he decides to wait by the side where the bartenders leave and enter. He'll have to go through there at some point.
“Fujigaya is over there,” someone points out from behind him; when he turns around he's facing the one he was looking for. Kitayama Hiromitsu, bar manager. His short stature, soft, fairly long hair and round face makes him look around Senga's age if not younger – the truth is that he's a least five years older. Senga doesn't know his exact age, but it's not exactly something that matters.
“Not here for him,” Senga says, although it is true that Fujigaya hasn't been selling a lot lately. Or ever. But since they're not losing money on business, rather earning quite a lot, it's not a problem for now. Perhaps he'll make sure Fujigaya learns a lesson another night, though.
“He's not doing well, but I guess you know that.”
Senga doesn't respond to that, Kitayama having the answer in his own statement. “Come outside.”
He turns and leaves at that, casually strolls through the staff only door that eventually leads to the back door of the club. Over the music he hears Kitayama calling for another bartender to take over for him, then footsteps following him out onto the dark back alley the back door opens to.
“Fujigaya would sell better as a prostitute, I swear.” There's a smug smile on Kitayama's face when Senga turns around to look at him.
“If he wasn't so easy already,” Senga throws back, returns the smile. Fujigaya is the one he pulls into one of the toilet cubicles to fuck when he has finished working; he has never been turned down by him, and by the sound of it, Kitayama has gotten into his pants too. “You should try him when he's high.”
“Maybe I will,” Kitayama considers it seriously, still strolling towards where Senga has stopped next to the wire fence that disconnects the delivery space for the club and the business next door. “He says you do it best though.”
“Yeah?” Senga has heard that before, but always assumes Fujigaya is sucking up to him. That he's been telling Kitayama makes him feel more like it could be true. “I'd do him more often if he wasn't so loose.” He thinks he can see on Kitayama that he knows where this is going. “Get over here.”
Kitayama may be short, but he has a nice body. Strong thighs and a round ass, arms worth mentioning and a set of abs he gladly shows off on theme nights at the club. Senga has been eyeing him for quite a while, knows he can if he wants to, and it's what he has come for tonight, besides the business. Kitayama's willingness may suggest that he has noticed the looks, and so may the lack of questions.
As soon as Kitayama gets close enough Senga grabs onto one of his arms, pulls him close then around, up against the fence. Kitayama's hands comes up against it on instinct, grabs onto the wire but doesn't fight when Senga's other hand smooths down his back, all the way to where his long shirt ends, then back up to brush against his ass as his hand sneaks under the shirt.
“I bet you feel better than him,” Senga mumbles behind his neck. He doesn't expect the approving hum Kitayama gives him, nor the way he pushes his hips back against the touch when Senga slides his hand down the back his pants. Turns out that Kitayama is easy too, or perhaps it's just when it's Senga. A few squeezes to his ass and he's turning his head to the side to look at Senga through the corner of his eye; Senga leans closer as he brings his hand up again, then around to the fastenings of Kitayama's jeans.
“Here?” Kitayama's voice sounds a little weak, either because he's starting to understand that maybe Senga isn't intending to change locations, or because Senga has wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly stroking him from an increasing interest to an actual erection. The response he gets is all the way up against his neck.
“Right here. No deliveries coming any time soon, I assume.” It's 2 am, the only ones possibly delivering alcohol to a bar at this time would be the smugglers, but Senga knows for a fact that the only illegal business going on in Kitayama's club is his own. “Scared someone will catch the bar manager getting fucked in the back alley?”
Kitayama nods honestly, but Senga feels him swelling in his hand at the words.
“I doubt they'd be surprised. I'm surprised it hasn't happened before.” Kitayama breathes out loudly, enough for it to sound like a weak moan, and Senga lowers his lips the few millimeters to connect them with his skin, where he kisses first, then nips lightly with his teeth; when he feels Kitayama's cock twitching he bites down and earns a proper jerk of his hips. It's a little intoxicating to have him there, in the cool night air behind his own club, a wire fence the only thing for him to lean on, it goes to Senga's head and he wants to get fingers inside him already, but the increasingly heavy breaths makes blood rush to his crotch and he wants to play with Kitayama's mind some more.
“I'm not like Fujigaya,” he spits out, “of course they would be surprised.”
“A first time visitor wouldn't know.” Senga puts his lips on Kitayama's earlobe, pulls lightly on it with his teeth. “And Fujigaya tends to stay inside too.” He knows Kitayama must be feeling humiliated at being compared to Senga's dealer, since Kitayama doesn't do drugs, is an expert in the bar, but it's a fact that he's letting a younger man jerk him off with an expectation of more. In a dirty back alley in the middle of the night, leaving his club to the less experienced bartenders. But he also feels that the humiliation might not be as negative as it could be; there's now little sounds escaping Kitayama on every third stroke or so, and he seems dissatisfied when Senga takes his hands off him to fish lube out of a pocket. He had come with the intention to use it, if not with Kitayama then with Fujigaya, who's always willing to spread his legs. Kitayama doesn't comment on it, only pushes his hips further back when Senga pulls his pants down just enough to access the important parts.
Senga nearly moans himself when the first finger sinks inside Kitayama, muscles tight around it, clenching to begin with but he starts to relax when he moves it back and forth a couple times; Kitayama has come to lean his forehead against the fence, which can't be comfortable but it looks so good. His fingers wrapped around the thin wire to stay steady on his feet, his head resting against it. Eyes closed and lips parted, Senga finds when he moves to where he can see his face. He ends up leaning in to kiss him, gets a half-hearted response since he begins to move his finger faster at the same time and without breaking away he works the second finger inside. Kitayama's body is too busy with the intrusion to care about kissing properly, but Senga enjoys the hitched breaths and the little noises against his lips just as much. It's getting to the point where he would like to open his own pants, just to relieve himself of the pressure, but he doesn't. It's better to get Kitayama ready as soon as possible and go straight from the pressure of his pants, to the hot pressure of being inside him.
He applies some more lube with the third finger, hears Kitayama hissing even though he's no longer at a kissing distance; when he wraps his hand around his cock again he finds it having softened a little, but he easily brings it back with quick, slick strokes and another bite to the side of his neck. There's still some resistance when he pushes his fingers in the last time but he can't wait any longer, he wants to get to the real thing now and judging by how Kitayama tries to part his legs as much as he can with pants not all the way off (or barely off at all, which is the case), he seems eager to get there too. Senga makes quick work of his pants, pulls his cock out once they're open; pushes them down just a little as he strokes himself fully hard, then takes out a condom from the same pocket. It's on before Kitayama even registers the sound of the package opening, and after some more lubrication Senga is positioned against his opening.
It's really tight when he pushes inside, which he does slowly, but he still sees Kitayama's hands gripping onto the fence in what is likely a way to take out what he feels physically. Senga assumes it's that burn edged with pain (the one he has felt too, although not lately), but he keeps pushing until he's all the way inside, Kitayama's firm ass pressed against his hips. He kneads it with one hand while he waits for the contracting around him to stop, keeps an eye on Kitayama's body language; when he straightens up a bit, takes a new grip on the wire, it causes him to push himself back onto Senga's cock and he just can't help it when he gives a small thrust. Or when the second thrust becomes a little harder. Or when he doesn't stop thrusting at all after that, despite Kitayama's still tense arms. They do relax after a while, along with the low moans Kitayama lets slip, but then his arms and hands tense again to keep him standing when Senga goes rougher.
The fence is far from as steady as a wall would be, and Kitayama seems to be struggling with his balance when the wire follows their movements; his knuckles start turning white from holding on so firmly, but he never says a thing, doesn't suggest to change the way they're doing this. He just takes it, and it turns Senga on to the point where he would almost consider himself high, similar to when on a light drug induced high. Everything feels good, he feels strong and in control more than he likely is, with Kitayama willing in front of him as he pounds him, the cool night air no longer cooling him down very much. He's hot under his clothes and Kitayama is hot around his cock, slick with lubrication and still tight but without the resistance now; when he reaches around Kitayama to his crotch he finds him rock hard, not at all like after the fingers. There's pre-come at the tip and Senga smears it with his hand, begins stroking him again and the groan that leaves Kitayama's throat nearly sounds like defeat. A few hard thrusts and one of his arms give up. Senga catches him before his face hits the fence and he takes a new grip on it, and from then one of Senga's hands stays on his waist to keep him steady. He tries his best to keep on stroking his cock, but it shouldn't be enough to get him off since Senga's focus is on his own pleasure, isn't touching him aiming to make him come. That's why he's surprised when Kitayama seems to choke on his moans, when his body goes tense and the walls around Senga's cock tighten so much that he can barely keep on moving; next thing he knows there's a drop of warm stickiness on the finger closest to the tip of Kitayama's pulsing cock. The rest must be on the dark asphalt, he assumes, because there's no doubt Kitayama just came even though Senga's stroking hadn't been all it could have been.
“Getting off in a place like this...” Senga mumbles, wants to make Kitayama feel ashamed, but instead it turns out to be the key to make him draw a long breath and relax, and Senga can't stop himself from chasing his own release. He gets a little rougher than he perhaps should be, but he doesn't care right now, only feels, and it feels amazing. It's not until after he has come that he feels a little sorry for Kitayama, who had to hold himself up despite Senga's bruising grip on his hips, but he doesn't seem the slightest upset when Senga pulls out.
“You are good,” Kitayama breathes as he turns around, leans back against the wire fence as he pulls his pants up, makes a face at the lubrication that has stuck to his underwear.
“Make Fujigaya go get you a new pair from a convenience store, he's not being useful anyway. He can't judge you either.” Kitayama shrugs as though he thinks that's a decent suggestion, then side-eyes Senga as he tosses the condom he just rid himself off onto the asphalt, successfully has it land where there's wet stains from when Kitayama came. “What? Would you rather I brought it inside and threw it away in front of your employees?”
“I guess not,” he says, hands smoothing out his shirt before he starts walking towards the bar, and Senga follows once his pants are done back up again.
Senga hears a voice calling for him just a few steps after he left Kitayama behind the bar; he recognizes the softness of it despite how loud the music is, knows who it is before he sees him.
“Are you busy tonight?” Full lips, an already pleading tone in his voice, hooded eyes that look just as erotic as always. Fujigaya coming to him means he really wants it, or that he's still not high enough to forget that he does; he moans when Senga grabs him by his semi-long hair and backs him up against a wall.
“How much have you taken?” He tugs his head back by his hair, looks into Fujigaya's eyes and he seems fairly clear in the head still, if anything a little aroused. Likely, as he moans again at the tug. “And how much have you sold?”
“I'll sell more later,” he tries, but Senga knows the peak is over for tonight and the addicts will be the only ones buying now. “Just... please?”
“I'm done for tonight.” Senga lets go of his hair, strokes a thumb over his lips and then pulls back. “Kitayama wanted to speak to you though. Go check with him.”
Fujigaya looks a little disappointed at first, but sets out for the bar with a hopeful shimmer in his eyes. Perhaps he's playing a little too much with Fujigaya, but it's not like he doesn't deserve it. Senga leaves with a nod in Kitayama's direction, contemplates staying to see Fujigaya's face when he understands why Kitayama needs him to run an errand, but decides on having Kitayama describe it next time he gets him alone.
Senga/Kitayama, minor Senga/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 2600 words, NC-17. Exhibitionism, public sex, mentions of drugs and alcohol
The other reason Senga enters the underground club has nothing to do with business.
A/N: Highly related to Sha la la☆Summer Time covers. Thanks to
natsunishi for the idea ;3Senga walks through the underground club with a straight face, paying no mind to the people around him; the pretty girls, the pretty boys, all with make-up and clothes gradually getting more and more disheveled from the dancing, the drinking. The money being exchanged for pills or powder in dark corners will be what gets them all the way to the top, will make them fall down, and come back for more. Money that will end up in Senga's pockets.
He's there to check up on business, and judging by the look of both his dealers and the guests, it is thriving. It's not the only reason he's there, though. The other reason is much more of personal interest, and also the reason he's headed for the bar. It's not a large club but there's still a decent crowd in front of it, and he decides to wait by the side where the bartenders leave and enter. He'll have to go through there at some point.
“Fujigaya is over there,” someone points out from behind him; when he turns around he's facing the one he was looking for. Kitayama Hiromitsu, bar manager. His short stature, soft, fairly long hair and round face makes him look around Senga's age if not younger – the truth is that he's a least five years older. Senga doesn't know his exact age, but it's not exactly something that matters.
“Not here for him,” Senga says, although it is true that Fujigaya hasn't been selling a lot lately. Or ever. But since they're not losing money on business, rather earning quite a lot, it's not a problem for now. Perhaps he'll make sure Fujigaya learns a lesson another night, though.
“He's not doing well, but I guess you know that.”
Senga doesn't respond to that, Kitayama having the answer in his own statement. “Come outside.”
He turns and leaves at that, casually strolls through the staff only door that eventually leads to the back door of the club. Over the music he hears Kitayama calling for another bartender to take over for him, then footsteps following him out onto the dark back alley the back door opens to.
“Fujigaya would sell better as a prostitute, I swear.” There's a smug smile on Kitayama's face when Senga turns around to look at him.
“If he wasn't so easy already,” Senga throws back, returns the smile. Fujigaya is the one he pulls into one of the toilet cubicles to fuck when he has finished working; he has never been turned down by him, and by the sound of it, Kitayama has gotten into his pants too. “You should try him when he's high.”
“Maybe I will,” Kitayama considers it seriously, still strolling towards where Senga has stopped next to the wire fence that disconnects the delivery space for the club and the business next door. “He says you do it best though.”
“Yeah?” Senga has heard that before, but always assumes Fujigaya is sucking up to him. That he's been telling Kitayama makes him feel more like it could be true. “I'd do him more often if he wasn't so loose.” He thinks he can see on Kitayama that he knows where this is going. “Get over here.”
Kitayama may be short, but he has a nice body. Strong thighs and a round ass, arms worth mentioning and a set of abs he gladly shows off on theme nights at the club. Senga has been eyeing him for quite a while, knows he can if he wants to, and it's what he has come for tonight, besides the business. Kitayama's willingness may suggest that he has noticed the looks, and so may the lack of questions.
As soon as Kitayama gets close enough Senga grabs onto one of his arms, pulls him close then around, up against the fence. Kitayama's hands comes up against it on instinct, grabs onto the wire but doesn't fight when Senga's other hand smooths down his back, all the way to where his long shirt ends, then back up to brush against his ass as his hand sneaks under the shirt.
“I bet you feel better than him,” Senga mumbles behind his neck. He doesn't expect the approving hum Kitayama gives him, nor the way he pushes his hips back against the touch when Senga slides his hand down the back his pants. Turns out that Kitayama is easy too, or perhaps it's just when it's Senga. A few squeezes to his ass and he's turning his head to the side to look at Senga through the corner of his eye; Senga leans closer as he brings his hand up again, then around to the fastenings of Kitayama's jeans.
“Here?” Kitayama's voice sounds a little weak, either because he's starting to understand that maybe Senga isn't intending to change locations, or because Senga has wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly stroking him from an increasing interest to an actual erection. The response he gets is all the way up against his neck.
“Right here. No deliveries coming any time soon, I assume.” It's 2 am, the only ones possibly delivering alcohol to a bar at this time would be the smugglers, but Senga knows for a fact that the only illegal business going on in Kitayama's club is his own. “Scared someone will catch the bar manager getting fucked in the back alley?”
Kitayama nods honestly, but Senga feels him swelling in his hand at the words.
“I doubt they'd be surprised. I'm surprised it hasn't happened before.” Kitayama breathes out loudly, enough for it to sound like a weak moan, and Senga lowers his lips the few millimeters to connect them with his skin, where he kisses first, then nips lightly with his teeth; when he feels Kitayama's cock twitching he bites down and earns a proper jerk of his hips. It's a little intoxicating to have him there, in the cool night air behind his own club, a wire fence the only thing for him to lean on, it goes to Senga's head and he wants to get fingers inside him already, but the increasingly heavy breaths makes blood rush to his crotch and he wants to play with Kitayama's mind some more.
“I'm not like Fujigaya,” he spits out, “of course they would be surprised.”
“A first time visitor wouldn't know.” Senga puts his lips on Kitayama's earlobe, pulls lightly on it with his teeth. “And Fujigaya tends to stay inside too.” He knows Kitayama must be feeling humiliated at being compared to Senga's dealer, since Kitayama doesn't do drugs, is an expert in the bar, but it's a fact that he's letting a younger man jerk him off with an expectation of more. In a dirty back alley in the middle of the night, leaving his club to the less experienced bartenders. But he also feels that the humiliation might not be as negative as it could be; there's now little sounds escaping Kitayama on every third stroke or so, and he seems dissatisfied when Senga takes his hands off him to fish lube out of a pocket. He had come with the intention to use it, if not with Kitayama then with Fujigaya, who's always willing to spread his legs. Kitayama doesn't comment on it, only pushes his hips further back when Senga pulls his pants down just enough to access the important parts.
Senga nearly moans himself when the first finger sinks inside Kitayama, muscles tight around it, clenching to begin with but he starts to relax when he moves it back and forth a couple times; Kitayama has come to lean his forehead against the fence, which can't be comfortable but it looks so good. His fingers wrapped around the thin wire to stay steady on his feet, his head resting against it. Eyes closed and lips parted, Senga finds when he moves to where he can see his face. He ends up leaning in to kiss him, gets a half-hearted response since he begins to move his finger faster at the same time and without breaking away he works the second finger inside. Kitayama's body is too busy with the intrusion to care about kissing properly, but Senga enjoys the hitched breaths and the little noises against his lips just as much. It's getting to the point where he would like to open his own pants, just to relieve himself of the pressure, but he doesn't. It's better to get Kitayama ready as soon as possible and go straight from the pressure of his pants, to the hot pressure of being inside him.
He applies some more lube with the third finger, hears Kitayama hissing even though he's no longer at a kissing distance; when he wraps his hand around his cock again he finds it having softened a little, but he easily brings it back with quick, slick strokes and another bite to the side of his neck. There's still some resistance when he pushes his fingers in the last time but he can't wait any longer, he wants to get to the real thing now and judging by how Kitayama tries to part his legs as much as he can with pants not all the way off (or barely off at all, which is the case), he seems eager to get there too. Senga makes quick work of his pants, pulls his cock out once they're open; pushes them down just a little as he strokes himself fully hard, then takes out a condom from the same pocket. It's on before Kitayama even registers the sound of the package opening, and after some more lubrication Senga is positioned against his opening.
It's really tight when he pushes inside, which he does slowly, but he still sees Kitayama's hands gripping onto the fence in what is likely a way to take out what he feels physically. Senga assumes it's that burn edged with pain (the one he has felt too, although not lately), but he keeps pushing until he's all the way inside, Kitayama's firm ass pressed against his hips. He kneads it with one hand while he waits for the contracting around him to stop, keeps an eye on Kitayama's body language; when he straightens up a bit, takes a new grip on the wire, it causes him to push himself back onto Senga's cock and he just can't help it when he gives a small thrust. Or when the second thrust becomes a little harder. Or when he doesn't stop thrusting at all after that, despite Kitayama's still tense arms. They do relax after a while, along with the low moans Kitayama lets slip, but then his arms and hands tense again to keep him standing when Senga goes rougher.
The fence is far from as steady as a wall would be, and Kitayama seems to be struggling with his balance when the wire follows their movements; his knuckles start turning white from holding on so firmly, but he never says a thing, doesn't suggest to change the way they're doing this. He just takes it, and it turns Senga on to the point where he would almost consider himself high, similar to when on a light drug induced high. Everything feels good, he feels strong and in control more than he likely is, with Kitayama willing in front of him as he pounds him, the cool night air no longer cooling him down very much. He's hot under his clothes and Kitayama is hot around his cock, slick with lubrication and still tight but without the resistance now; when he reaches around Kitayama to his crotch he finds him rock hard, not at all like after the fingers. There's pre-come at the tip and Senga smears it with his hand, begins stroking him again and the groan that leaves Kitayama's throat nearly sounds like defeat. A few hard thrusts and one of his arms give up. Senga catches him before his face hits the fence and he takes a new grip on it, and from then one of Senga's hands stays on his waist to keep him steady. He tries his best to keep on stroking his cock, but it shouldn't be enough to get him off since Senga's focus is on his own pleasure, isn't touching him aiming to make him come. That's why he's surprised when Kitayama seems to choke on his moans, when his body goes tense and the walls around Senga's cock tighten so much that he can barely keep on moving; next thing he knows there's a drop of warm stickiness on the finger closest to the tip of Kitayama's pulsing cock. The rest must be on the dark asphalt, he assumes, because there's no doubt Kitayama just came even though Senga's stroking hadn't been all it could have been.
“Getting off in a place like this...” Senga mumbles, wants to make Kitayama feel ashamed, but instead it turns out to be the key to make him draw a long breath and relax, and Senga can't stop himself from chasing his own release. He gets a little rougher than he perhaps should be, but he doesn't care right now, only feels, and it feels amazing. It's not until after he has come that he feels a little sorry for Kitayama, who had to hold himself up despite Senga's bruising grip on his hips, but he doesn't seem the slightest upset when Senga pulls out.
“You are good,” Kitayama breathes as he turns around, leans back against the wire fence as he pulls his pants up, makes a face at the lubrication that has stuck to his underwear.
“Make Fujigaya go get you a new pair from a convenience store, he's not being useful anyway. He can't judge you either.” Kitayama shrugs as though he thinks that's a decent suggestion, then side-eyes Senga as he tosses the condom he just rid himself off onto the asphalt, successfully has it land where there's wet stains from when Kitayama came. “What? Would you rather I brought it inside and threw it away in front of your employees?”
“I guess not,” he says, hands smoothing out his shirt before he starts walking towards the bar, and Senga follows once his pants are done back up again.
Senga hears a voice calling for him just a few steps after he left Kitayama behind the bar; he recognizes the softness of it despite how loud the music is, knows who it is before he sees him.
“Are you busy tonight?” Full lips, an already pleading tone in his voice, hooded eyes that look just as erotic as always. Fujigaya coming to him means he really wants it, or that he's still not high enough to forget that he does; he moans when Senga grabs him by his semi-long hair and backs him up against a wall.
“How much have you taken?” He tugs his head back by his hair, looks into Fujigaya's eyes and he seems fairly clear in the head still, if anything a little aroused. Likely, as he moans again at the tug. “And how much have you sold?”
“I'll sell more later,” he tries, but Senga knows the peak is over for tonight and the addicts will be the only ones buying now. “Just... please?”
“I'm done for tonight.” Senga lets go of his hair, strokes a thumb over his lips and then pulls back. “Kitayama wanted to speak to you though. Go check with him.”
Fujigaya looks a little disappointed at first, but sets out for the bar with a hopeful shimmer in his eyes. Perhaps he's playing a little too much with Fujigaya, but it's not like he doesn't deserve it. Senga leaves with a nod in Kitayama's direction, contemplates staying to see Fujigaya's face when he understands why Kitayama needs him to run an errand, but decides on having Kitayama describe it next time he gets him alone.
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no subject
on 2016-07-28 04:34 pm (UTC)at everyone. BRB IM BACK TO READING
---
i'm done. like... I'M DONE ;_____; it's just so perfect and hnnnngh how was this my idea i literally can't believe myself. FENCE. SENGA TOP. EASY MITSU. BITCH GAYA. perfection.
i can't write coherent comments as you can see. but i loved it to bits. good job, bby ♥
no subject
on 2016-08-28 07:25 pm (UTC)Hehe all the sengatan like top!Senga, I have realized. ... I clearly do too. lol
Ngl I would've been disappointed if you didn't like it. ;P
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on 2016-07-28 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-08-28 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-08-10 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-08-28 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-10-04 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
on 2016-10-10 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-08-20 01:57 pm (UTC)(But I kind of want to see Fujigaya's face at the end there, too, LOL.)
no subject
on 2016-08-28 07:31 pm (UTC)Maybe he should learn to do what he's supposed to. ;P