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unmeiboyBossy
Nikaido/Kitayama (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 1600 words, NC-17. Office sex, exhibitionism
“Treat me to lunch tomorrow,” he finishes, as if that's a good excuse to let Nikaido do him on his office desk.
A/N: This is very inspired by the kisubusa episode where Nikaido pushes Kitayama up against a desk. Yes, it almost took me a year to finish. lol
“Kitayama...” Nikaido eyes his co-worker from his own desk. “Everyone has gone home.”
“No.” It is true that everyone has gone home; they're the only ones left working overtime tonight. But that's not what Nikaido is trying to say.
“Please?” He rolls over on his wheeled chair, grabs onto Kitayama's, making him unable to escape.
“We're in the office.” He stands up, grabs his cup that was previously filled with coffee. “We don't even have things to do it with.”
Nikaido smiles smugly at him, and Kitayama isn't sure he likes the way it looks. “What if we do?”
Kitayama just shakes his head and takes the first step away from there; at the same time Nikaido raises from his chair, pushes it aside, and grabs Kitayama by the shoulders. Before he knows it he has been backed up against his own desk, and Nikaido is holding him in place.
“I want you,” he whispers, “now.”
They're close, really close, and then Nikaido pushes even closer, grinds his hips against Kitayama's, and the many protests he had in his mind decrease rapidly.
“We shouldn't.” Contrary to his words, he sets the cup back down on the desk.
“Who cares.” Nikaido is looking down at him with challenge in his eyes, and it's hot. Stupid Nikaido, he curses to himself, inside his head, stupid Nikaido. Then he angles his head backwards, stares up at him for a second or two in a way he hopes make it look like Nikaido isn't the one in charge here. Not true, but he's pleased to see him waiting before attempting to kiss him.
“Treat me to lunch tomorrow,” he finishes, as if that's a good excuse to let Nikaido do him on his office desk, and that's when Nikaido takes over, kisses him in a way that lets Kitayama taste just how much he wants him.
Kitayama isn't sure how he feels about being lifted onto his desk, but Nikaido's lips feel good against his own and his legs spread automatically when Nikaido steps closer. Sitting on the edge of the surface isn't the most comfortable position he has been in, still it's forgivable because the hands on his ass that squeeze as Nikaido pulls him against himself make up for it. The calm kissing and the lazy rhythm goes on for so long that Kitayama almost starts thinking this is all it will be, that Nikaido will settle with just making out in the office. But then he takes a short step back, pushes Kitayama's legs together and tugs on his pants, tries to pull them down. With the sudden lack of Nikaido's body against his own Kitayama is brought back to reality, and he responds to the pulling on his pants with a harsh tug on Nikaido's tie.
“What?” he questions, because they're obviously doing this, here, right now; getting Kitayama's pants off is very necessary.
“I am not going to work by a desk that I have rubbed my bare ass on.” He manages to keep his voice steady even though Nikaido is massaging his cock through his underwear now.
“But...” he starts, but then something clicks in his brain and of course, only Nikaido could make Kitayama's statement sound so much worse. “Do you want me to bend you over it instead?”
“Get on with it,” and Kitayama wishes he hadn't said that when he is pulled off the desk and turned around in less time than it takes for him to even blink. Within another couple seconds Nikaido has slid his fingers under the hem of his pants and shoved them down to mid-thigh, kneading one of his ass cheeks while he reaches for his office bag with his other hand. Kitayama rolls his eyes at the movements behind him even though he knows it won't be seen; trust Nikaido to carry lube and condoms around to meetings.
“Spread,” Nikaido pushes at the inside of his thigh, obviously doesn't realize that Kitayama can't part his legs much more with pants still on his legs. He still tries, though. A little.
Nikaido has long, slender fingers and he's skilled with them, Kitayama is well aware of it and it's just as good as any other time, but no matter how good that is, it doesn't stop it from feeling a little wrong. Kitayama's eyes keep stopping at project names and company phone numbers on the papers still on his desk; he tries to shut it all out by closing his eyes but with every perfectly aimed thrust with those fingers he mindlessly opens them again. He's painfully aware of where he is, but he would be lying to himself if he tried to deny that he likes it. Maybe most of all he likes how turned on Nikaido is by it. He can tell even though he can't see him, that he's rushing a little; when he presses himself against Kitayama's thigh he can feel him hard through his suit pants.
“Nikaido...” Kitayama mutters, or intends to, but it sounds breathier than it normally would.
“Want more?” The arousal is audible in his voice. He adds a third finger before Kitayama nods. “Shit, you're so hot...” A hand squeezes his ass, and while Kitayama wants to question how hot he can be when all Nikaido can see of him is what has been bared when the pants were pulled down, he doesn't, because it might make him pause and he definitely doesn't want that to happen.
He pushes his pen case aside to lean his forearms against his desk when Nikaido pulls his hands away; he hears him putting the condom on, turns his head to be able to see him just when he has positioned himself. Nikaido always looks so good when he pushes inside, sensations visible on his face and he looks dominant to Kitayama and it sends the same rushes of arousal through his body as every other time they have sex. He gives up looking when Nikaido starts thrusting, closes his eyes for real now and even as an adult he feels embarrassed when he hears his moans echo between the walls in the now empty office.
It doesn't surprise Kitayama when Nikaido goes fast from the start, how quickly it gets him closer, how much it seems to turn him on. He should have figured this out earlier, he supposes, then abandons the thoughts as Nikaido hits him just right, over and over again.
“Kitayama,” Nikaido whines, thrusts hard enough to press Kitayama's legs against the desk; he won't be surprised if his skin is bruised tomorrow. That said, he feels like he's on fire inside, burning with embarrassment and arousal, both from the stimulation and the taboo of the place they are in. Just like Nikaido. He tries to not think about the security camera, only hopes they're in a blind spot, tries to not care about the fact that they're probably not. Tries to tell his brain that it isn't turning him on, but lets his body enjoy it. “Kitayama, I can't, I –”
He doesn't have time to finish his sentence but Kitayama knows what he means, let's him push deep inside as he comes; the shaky breaths sound as hot to Kitayama's ears as the moans do. When Nikaido pulls back, leaves him empty, Kitayama lets out a sound he would normally be embarrassed about, but he's high on arousal and his brain wants the pleasure, wants the completion. That's what drives him to wrap his own hand around his cock, eyes closing as he strokes up and down while Nikaido rids himself of the condom (or that's what it sounds like). He's interrupted by hands on his hips as he is turned around, made to lean back against the desk and Nikaido sinks to his knees, lips parted even before he's close to be able to take Kitayama's cock into his mouth.
Nikaido sucks as enthusiastically as he fucks, in situations like this not to tease, just goes straight for the orgasm that Kitayama can nearly taste when Nikaido takes him all the way into his mouth, sucks around him; he makes a happy kind of sound when Kitayama puts a hand on his head and it's almost worth calling cute, if it hadn't been for the fact that Kitayama is too busy breathing and holding on to speak properly.
When he comes Nikaido swallows, like he usually does, and when he stands up to kiss Kitayama the taste is still there, but he doesn't mind. What he does mind is that their clothes are still not in place, and even though Nikaido doesn't seem to want to break away just yet, Kitayama does it forcefully.
“Clothes on,” he mumbles, with a glare up at Nikaido as he does his pants back up.
“Don't look at me like that. You totally liked it.” Nikaido has that smug look on his face, the one that's not appropriate to a senior in the company, but also the one that is kind of hot. Not that Kitayama would ever admit it to him. Or anyone.
“You're the exhibitionist here,” he says, like that counts as proper denial (because he did like it). “I'm not doing that ever again.”
“Mhm,” Nikaido hums, expression unchanged and the tone says he doesn't believe him. To be fair, Kitayama isn't sure he'd be able to say no, but that has less to do with the thrill of public spaces, more with Nikaido himself.
Nikaido/Kitayama (Kis-My-Ft2)
AU, pwp, 1600 words, NC-17. Office sex, exhibitionism
“Treat me to lunch tomorrow,” he finishes, as if that's a good excuse to let Nikaido do him on his office desk.
A/N: This is very inspired by the kisubusa episode where Nikaido pushes Kitayama up against a desk. Yes, it almost took me a year to finish. lol
“Kitayama...” Nikaido eyes his co-worker from his own desk. “Everyone has gone home.”
“No.” It is true that everyone has gone home; they're the only ones left working overtime tonight. But that's not what Nikaido is trying to say.
“Please?” He rolls over on his wheeled chair, grabs onto Kitayama's, making him unable to escape.
“We're in the office.” He stands up, grabs his cup that was previously filled with coffee. “We don't even have things to do it with.”
Nikaido smiles smugly at him, and Kitayama isn't sure he likes the way it looks. “What if we do?”
Kitayama just shakes his head and takes the first step away from there; at the same time Nikaido raises from his chair, pushes it aside, and grabs Kitayama by the shoulders. Before he knows it he has been backed up against his own desk, and Nikaido is holding him in place.
“I want you,” he whispers, “now.”
They're close, really close, and then Nikaido pushes even closer, grinds his hips against Kitayama's, and the many protests he had in his mind decrease rapidly.
“We shouldn't.” Contrary to his words, he sets the cup back down on the desk.
“Who cares.” Nikaido is looking down at him with challenge in his eyes, and it's hot. Stupid Nikaido, he curses to himself, inside his head, stupid Nikaido. Then he angles his head backwards, stares up at him for a second or two in a way he hopes make it look like Nikaido isn't the one in charge here. Not true, but he's pleased to see him waiting before attempting to kiss him.
“Treat me to lunch tomorrow,” he finishes, as if that's a good excuse to let Nikaido do him on his office desk, and that's when Nikaido takes over, kisses him in a way that lets Kitayama taste just how much he wants him.
Kitayama isn't sure how he feels about being lifted onto his desk, but Nikaido's lips feel good against his own and his legs spread automatically when Nikaido steps closer. Sitting on the edge of the surface isn't the most comfortable position he has been in, still it's forgivable because the hands on his ass that squeeze as Nikaido pulls him against himself make up for it. The calm kissing and the lazy rhythm goes on for so long that Kitayama almost starts thinking this is all it will be, that Nikaido will settle with just making out in the office. But then he takes a short step back, pushes Kitayama's legs together and tugs on his pants, tries to pull them down. With the sudden lack of Nikaido's body against his own Kitayama is brought back to reality, and he responds to the pulling on his pants with a harsh tug on Nikaido's tie.
“What?” he questions, because they're obviously doing this, here, right now; getting Kitayama's pants off is very necessary.
“I am not going to work by a desk that I have rubbed my bare ass on.” He manages to keep his voice steady even though Nikaido is massaging his cock through his underwear now.
“But...” he starts, but then something clicks in his brain and of course, only Nikaido could make Kitayama's statement sound so much worse. “Do you want me to bend you over it instead?”
“Get on with it,” and Kitayama wishes he hadn't said that when he is pulled off the desk and turned around in less time than it takes for him to even blink. Within another couple seconds Nikaido has slid his fingers under the hem of his pants and shoved them down to mid-thigh, kneading one of his ass cheeks while he reaches for his office bag with his other hand. Kitayama rolls his eyes at the movements behind him even though he knows it won't be seen; trust Nikaido to carry lube and condoms around to meetings.
“Spread,” Nikaido pushes at the inside of his thigh, obviously doesn't realize that Kitayama can't part his legs much more with pants still on his legs. He still tries, though. A little.
Nikaido has long, slender fingers and he's skilled with them, Kitayama is well aware of it and it's just as good as any other time, but no matter how good that is, it doesn't stop it from feeling a little wrong. Kitayama's eyes keep stopping at project names and company phone numbers on the papers still on his desk; he tries to shut it all out by closing his eyes but with every perfectly aimed thrust with those fingers he mindlessly opens them again. He's painfully aware of where he is, but he would be lying to himself if he tried to deny that he likes it. Maybe most of all he likes how turned on Nikaido is by it. He can tell even though he can't see him, that he's rushing a little; when he presses himself against Kitayama's thigh he can feel him hard through his suit pants.
“Nikaido...” Kitayama mutters, or intends to, but it sounds breathier than it normally would.
“Want more?” The arousal is audible in his voice. He adds a third finger before Kitayama nods. “Shit, you're so hot...” A hand squeezes his ass, and while Kitayama wants to question how hot he can be when all Nikaido can see of him is what has been bared when the pants were pulled down, he doesn't, because it might make him pause and he definitely doesn't want that to happen.
He pushes his pen case aside to lean his forearms against his desk when Nikaido pulls his hands away; he hears him putting the condom on, turns his head to be able to see him just when he has positioned himself. Nikaido always looks so good when he pushes inside, sensations visible on his face and he looks dominant to Kitayama and it sends the same rushes of arousal through his body as every other time they have sex. He gives up looking when Nikaido starts thrusting, closes his eyes for real now and even as an adult he feels embarrassed when he hears his moans echo between the walls in the now empty office.
It doesn't surprise Kitayama when Nikaido goes fast from the start, how quickly it gets him closer, how much it seems to turn him on. He should have figured this out earlier, he supposes, then abandons the thoughts as Nikaido hits him just right, over and over again.
“Kitayama,” Nikaido whines, thrusts hard enough to press Kitayama's legs against the desk; he won't be surprised if his skin is bruised tomorrow. That said, he feels like he's on fire inside, burning with embarrassment and arousal, both from the stimulation and the taboo of the place they are in. Just like Nikaido. He tries to not think about the security camera, only hopes they're in a blind spot, tries to not care about the fact that they're probably not. Tries to tell his brain that it isn't turning him on, but lets his body enjoy it. “Kitayama, I can't, I –”
He doesn't have time to finish his sentence but Kitayama knows what he means, let's him push deep inside as he comes; the shaky breaths sound as hot to Kitayama's ears as the moans do. When Nikaido pulls back, leaves him empty, Kitayama lets out a sound he would normally be embarrassed about, but he's high on arousal and his brain wants the pleasure, wants the completion. That's what drives him to wrap his own hand around his cock, eyes closing as he strokes up and down while Nikaido rids himself of the condom (or that's what it sounds like). He's interrupted by hands on his hips as he is turned around, made to lean back against the desk and Nikaido sinks to his knees, lips parted even before he's close to be able to take Kitayama's cock into his mouth.
Nikaido sucks as enthusiastically as he fucks, in situations like this not to tease, just goes straight for the orgasm that Kitayama can nearly taste when Nikaido takes him all the way into his mouth, sucks around him; he makes a happy kind of sound when Kitayama puts a hand on his head and it's almost worth calling cute, if it hadn't been for the fact that Kitayama is too busy breathing and holding on to speak properly.
When he comes Nikaido swallows, like he usually does, and when he stands up to kiss Kitayama the taste is still there, but he doesn't mind. What he does mind is that their clothes are still not in place, and even though Nikaido doesn't seem to want to break away just yet, Kitayama does it forcefully.
“Clothes on,” he mumbles, with a glare up at Nikaido as he does his pants back up.
“Don't look at me like that. You totally liked it.” Nikaido has that smug look on his face, the one that's not appropriate to a senior in the company, but also the one that is kind of hot. Not that Kitayama would ever admit it to him. Or anyone.
“You're the exhibitionist here,” he says, like that counts as proper denial (because he did like it). “I'm not doing that ever again.”
“Mhm,” Nikaido hums, expression unchanged and the tone says he doesn't believe him. To be fair, Kitayama isn't sure he'd be able to say no, but that has less to do with the thrill of public spaces, more with Nikaido himself.
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