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Hidaka chose his new apartment because of the bathroom. There are other things he likes about it too, like the view over the bay where you can see the supports of Rainbow Bridge reflected in the water at night like lasers, and the second bedroom that he's planning on turning into a studio instead of having all his equipment jammed into a corner like it is now, where you have to keep climbing over the couch, but mostly it came down to the bathroom. It's nearly six tatami size and has two doors, which impressed him right off, although still not, admittedly, as much as the plate glass mirror that covers the vast majority of the wall behind the arty-looking washbasin. Hidaka figures that the previous occupant of the place was either an interior designer, or just really enjoyed looking at themselves naked.

The only thing that it's lacking right now is a TV to veg out to while he's soaking in the tub. Seeing as his cell's waterproof, that's about the only thing that gets him out of there some evenings. Hidaka's always enjoyed the entire bathroom experience immensely, whether its a leisurely shave, or ducking under the showerhead, rubbing the kinks out of muscles overstretched in rehearsals, and he practically had an orgy of excess when he broke this one in. There's something about breathing in the steam and the slippery ride of his own soapy hands that he finds incredibly sensual. The acoustics are good, too. He comes up with the backbones of a lot of songs in the bathroom.

Outside, darkness has settled itself in. It's still early enough in spring for the evening to turn into night suddenly, when you aren't looking; still early enough to feel the chill blowing in off the ocean after you lose the sun, but Hidaka doesn't mind. Really hot water's even better on cold skin: he likes the faint shock and the contrast, the gooseflesh it pricks up. He finishes washing off what's left of the day and finger-combs the damp strands of hair out of his eyes, slops a line of toothpaste on the brush and sticks it in his mouth.

He tries to zone out for a while as he scrubs and just enjoy the totally relaxed, clean-inside-and-out feeling, but every time he twists his hand to get the brush around an awkward place or bends to spit, he keeps catching his own gaze in the mirror. Hidaka eyes his reflection, his rhythm slowing a little. The mirror makes the place look modern and classy, but he's wondering if it's too distracting. It's normal to check yourself over when you walk past a mirror, but he's starting to feel like he's putting on a strip show for an audience of one when he takes his clothes off in here, and he's not even that narcissistic. He gives in to a couple of glances at the flat mesa of his belly above the towel knotted around his hips, how the muscles work when he rolls his shoulders. He's in pretty good shape these days. When he slides his free hand up to rub away a few lingering droplets of water, his palm grazes his nipple, and a breath catches in his nose, his skin more sensitized than he'd been aware. Hidaka has a sudden urge to lose the towel, and then to watch what he does with himself afterwards.

The damned mirror's going to have to go, he thinks.

A flush from the toilet next door signals that Nishijima's done. It's not like he's far enough away that going home's exactly a major effort, but he winds up staying over a lot more often than he doesn't. Sometimes Hidaka sleeps across at his place for a few nights until it starts to mess with his head and feel too tidy. In another moment, he appears in the mirror, wearing an old green-striped yukata of Hidaka's he's evidently dug out from somewhere and that's about two sizes too big for him without the belt. Hidaka feels the squeeze of his arms as Nishijima wraps them around his waist. He props his chin on Hidaka's shoulder and smiles at him in the mirror.

"Hey," he says, the puff of air just briefly discernable through the fine hairs on Hidaka's neck. "Whatcha doing in here for so long?"

Hidaka takes the toothbrush out of his mouth and shoves it in Nishijima's direction. "You want me to still taste like chicken teriyaki in the morning?"

"I love teriyaki." Nishijima leans forward on his toes, angling his mouth across the corner of Hidaka's and giving him an uncoordinated kiss. He grins when Hidaka reaches back to lightly bat his head. "Dacchan is so romantic."

"I'm romantic. I just don't get romantic in the bathroom."

"I can get romantic anywhere..." Nishijima kisses him again, and presses himself against the length of Hidaka's back. He hugs him, for all the world like he's a plushie, except a plushie wouldn't be able to appreciate the burn of Nishijima's skin inside the folds of the open yukata. Hidaka can feel him all the way down, from lips to cock, the latter bumping gently but insistently against his ass through the soft terry cotton. He has a mental image of a soaped-up Nishijima under the water, against him and around him, sliding and thrusting, and suddenly he's not just sensitive any more, he's on fire, every pore thrumming and awake. In the mirror, Nishijima's eyes flash, something between arousal and amusement, and at that moment, Hidaka's absolutely convinced that not only does the guy know how to work him, he can read his mind and has x-ray vision that goes through walls.

"You know how I can tell when you want to get laid? You go mushy." He says it just to get one up, although there's really only one thing that he's interested in getting up at this precise moment, anywhere in Nishijima's vicinity. His ass or his mouth both sound like good ideas, although his hand would definitely do as well. Nishijima sitting in his lap on the closed toilet seat. Rubbing off on the bathroom floor with a handful of lube and their erections slick between their bellies.

"I want to touch your beautiful soul," Nishijima says, then immediately gives a snort of laughter.

"Mind touching my cock while you're waiting?"

Hidaka can still feel Nishijima shaking with stifled chuckles as his bandmate works the towel open and drops it to the floor. When he wraps his hand around Hidaka's shaft and gives him a few long strokes, all the way from base to tip, Hidaka goes from just happy to iron-hard so fast that he could swear he's got no blood left anywhere else in his body. The twin Nishijima reflected before him traces Hidaka's earlobe with his tongue, and he sees his own stomach muscles react, tightening and twitching. Fuck, that looks good.

"Your bathroom's amazing, Dacchan," Nishijima comments. His voice buzzes in Hidaka's ear. "There's room enough to do anything you want in here, dontcha think..?"

"Have a party," Hidaka says. He has to grip the basin for a second when Nishijima's thumb flicks across his frenulum, and feels his hips jerk, trying to chase his hand, when it moves away. In the mirror, Nishijima pulls his arms out of the loose sleeves of his yukata, and slips it off his shoulders, letting it join the towel on the damp floor with a muffled flump. He sidesteps the pile of material, coming into full view as he nudges it out of the way with his foot. His cock's standing almost against his abdomen and he's flushed, the lips that normally amuse the crap out of Hidaka but right now just make him want them wherever Nishijima's willing to put them, looking even fuller than usual. When Nishijima's as aroused as he is, being together definitely is something. Like fucking fireworks.

Hidaka turns to face him. Nishijima lifts his hand, and a heavy-eyed smile drifts across his face as he thumbs Hidaka's cheekbone. Hidaka lets him get that far; lets their mouths brush a few times before his fingers round the swell of Nishijima's ass and delve into the crease. Finding his mark and pressing in, just a little way, makes Nishijima shape an oh with his mouth, and drape his arm around him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Like that?"

"Oh, yeah."

Hidaka feels Nishijima shift, a rhythmic side to side sway-wriggle as he tries to get him to go deeper. "You're not on stage," he says, and Nishijima's smile splits into an all-out grin. Hidaka circles his rim a few times, teasing him.

"You ready?"

Nishijima's own fingers brush the back of Hidaka's neck. "'m all yours," he says.

The phrasing's deliberately corny as hell, but it makes something inside Hidaka go strangely soft. Maybe it's because Nishijima's so open, so full and honest and ready to give, that it's always overwhelming to see it laid out raw, all there in his eyes and between his legs, and directed at nobody except him. He has to drop his gaze. He's surprised to see how his own chest is heaving when he looks down. His voice is low in his throat as he says, "Yours too."

Nishijima tilts his head, ever so slightly. "What?"

"You heard me the first time."

Nishijima unhooks his arm. Still grinning, he turns to the basin, and sets the heels of his hands on the edge, leaning forward a little, testing out the best angles to support himself. Hidaka opens the small storage cabinet. His cock feels heavy, like it's a presence of its own, and heated enough that the sticky bathroom air is cool in comparison. He finds a fresh packet of condoms and, after a few hits and misses, the bottle of lubricant, and puts them on the counter. When his hands curl around Nishijima's slim hips, he feels him respond reflexively, his legs parting a shade further. Hidaka reaches up and lifts his chin, directing him to his reflection.

"You're hot," he says. It's easier to talk this way, somehow, when they're only looking at each other by proxy. "You flirt to get all the fangirls' panties wet and you still don't get how hot you really are. You never look at yourself like this."

"Bending over a bathroom basin naked with my butt sticking out? Nope, can't say I do." Nishijima's voice is getting to be just this side of too thick for the joke that he makes, just a bit too breathy.

"Ready to fuck." Hidaka's index finger parts Nishijima's lips and slips into his mouth, and his bandmate sucks vigorously, humming a little around it, a miniature mimicry of another act. "You're fucking unbelievable."

His hand, when he moves it, comes away with a wet sound, leaving a few stray beads of saliva, and Hidaka almost wonders if he's going to need any lubricant, but he picks up the bottle anyway. He's damp with sweat, and it's not easy, but he manages to pop the lid and squeeze a dollop out, twisting it off around his fingers. Nishijima rocks a little as he grips and strokes down the length of him, then flattens his palm against the head. When Hidaka uses his cock to draw circles in his slick hand, Nishijima goes, briefly, utterly still, and then lets out a shuddering gasp.


"I dunno..!" Nishijima's hips jerk, making erratic, involuntary thrusts. Still holding him with one hand, Hidaka finds the lubricant again with the other and coats Nishijima's cock liberally, turning him into a slimy, trembling mess. He replaces the bottle on the counter, replaces his palm. Nishijima almost yells, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Hidaka starts circling again, and the moan building in Nishijima's throat turns into something closer to a sob. "Oh, fuck! Oh, God... hurts..!"

"Good hurt? Bad hurt?" It's taking every ounce of willpower Hidaka's got to stop his own hips shoving Nishijima into the basin. He mouths his shoulder.

"Good hurt!!"

Hidaka deliberately intensifies the rhythm, and in another heartbeat, Nishijima grabs his hand and wrenches it away. His head hangs as he pants and shivers, his wrists shaking under his weight. Eventually, he raises his eyes again, and favors Hidaka with a dazed, unfocused smile. "Too much. Couldn't handle it..!"

"You're too much," Hidaka says. He means it. It scares him, sometimes, what he feels. Steadily, he strokes Nishijima's flanks, feeling the muscles there, easing him back down onto level ground. His cock nestles between his bandmate's buttocks, and he slips a couple of fingers in next to it, pressing the slickness on them in and around; slides back and forth through it a few times. Nishijima makes a wordless noise of encouragement that goes straight to Hidaka's balls.


"Go for it."

The wrapper drives Hidaka crazy, and he has to bend over and wipe his wet fingers on the towel, but eventually he gets the condom out and rolls it over his cock. Nishijima likes to do it for him sometimes, but he feels like he can't take it right now; like just the sight of it is going to push him over. He's not going to last much longer as it is, but Nishijima's ready for him, more than ready. When Hidaka positions himself and pushes, he pushes back, trying to take all of him at once, gasping a few times as Hidaka works his way in.

He meets Nishijima's eyes in the mirror. His bandmate smiles, heated but aware. Hidaka sucks at the soft skin in the crook of his neck.

"Fuck, you feel great!"

"You make me feel amazing." Still gripping the basin with one hand, Nishijima reaches between his legs with the other until he touches the rubber circle of condom, feeling his own spread body, how he stretches around Hidaka's cock. "You make me feel... and feel... and... feel..."

Hidaka physically aches with the need to move. His first thrusts are slow, and more relieving of pressure than anything, and Nishijima shifts, straining, searching for his pleasure, the angle that's going to have him spasming. He tips his pelvis, and immediately moans, his eyelids fluttering half-shut. "Keep looking at yourself," Hidaka tells him, breathlessly, bumping Nishijima's back with his chest, and Nishijima steels himself and forces his eyes back to their mirror images, watching heavy-eyed and slack-jawed the way his cock bounces every time he and Hidaka move in counterpoint. "Oh God -" he says, his voice uneven, as a droplet begins to bead at the tip. "Oh, yes - there - s'right -"

There aren't many things Hidaka would rather do right now than feel Nishijima's wet stiffness in his hand, but one of them is watch Nishijima playing with himself and watching himself do it, while he goes to heaven in his ass. Stilling, with difficulty, because all his body wants to do is fuck, he gets hold of his bandmate's hand and deposits another good load of the lubricant in his palm; rubs off the excess over Nishijima's back and buttocks just for the feel of them against him.

Nishijima almost fumbles his own cock when Hidaka closes his fist around it, his thumb and fingers slipping and gliding. He straightens. His hand moves, shakily, and a thread of mingled lubricant and come slowly detaches itself from the end of his cock, and Hidaka knows, instantly, that that has to be one of his all-time favorite visuals. He runs his hands over Nishijima's legs.

"C'mon," he says.

He doesn't get to look closely at Nishijima masturbating often enough - not giving himself this kind of attention. The pounding in his groin steps up a notch when Nishijima gives his weight over to him, bracing himself between Hidaka and the counter, the lubricant making slick sucking sounds every time he passes over the head of his cock. He reaches up and rolls a nipple between his fingers, says Hidaka's name a few times. Every time his hips jump, he squeezes around Hidaka's cock, until Hidaka can't hold it; until he's just shoving up into Nishijima as hard and fast as he can; until he can feel himself starting to edge, starting to lose it. He kisses Nishijima's neck, grabs at his ass, grunts into him. Nishijima half-twists around, trying to catch at Hidaka's mouth with his, his words even more slurred than usual.

"Y'gonna come..?"

"Mm!" Hidaka's past formulating beyond that, past anything. The second the words hit him, he's jerking into full-blown orgasm, and what he can see in Nishijima's face makes him come all the harder. He thrusts through it until he can't take any more, and then he just holds himself balls-deep in Nishijima's twitching muscles and rides it out. He feels Nishijima tighten, the unmistakeable shudders beginning in his thighs.

"Me too... 'm gonna come... 'm gonna come... oh - shit - ! Oh - !" Nishijima makes a grab for his cock again just as he spurts for the first time. He urgently milks himself the rest of the way, shorter and harder strokes, until the last of his come splash-drips in the basin and his movements ease, then stop. He holds his cock for a moment, then slides his hand down it once more, caressing it, like a pet. "Oh..." he repeats after a while, sounding completely satisfied this time. The corners of his mouth turn up in lazy bliss.

Hidaka holds him for a minute or two, leaning against his back, both of them just feeling each other, listening to the thump inside both their ribcages and their breathing slowly returning to normal. It surprises him, as always, how good it still feels to be inside Nishijima even after he's come. Their gazes meet in the mirror. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Nishijima swipes his forefinger through one of the trails of come clinging to the basin bowl, and brings it to his mouth. He sucks, gently, and a shiver catches Hidaka off guard, a last lingering aftershock. He bites Nishijima's ear. "You're something else," he says.

He stays as long as he can, but eventually he starts to go soft and the condom slips, and he has to pull out. As soon as he does, Nishijima turns and takes his lips in an open-mouthed, wet-tongued, toe-curling kiss that lasts a good few seconds. "C'mon, now," Hidaka says, when they break apart, but he can't not sense the huge grin on his face any more than he can wipe it off. Nishijima feathers his fingers over Hidaka's chest and belly, feeling the vibrations as they both chuckle. He sighs, happily.


"Feel good?"

"Felt very good." Nishijima contemplates, briefly, then gives him a sly wink. "This is a really, really great place, yanno. D'you come here a lot..?"

"You do. I'm cleaning the basin. And the counter."

"How about cleaning me first, huh?" Nishijima pats his own ass, then lifts his cock and lets it drop. His hand comes away glistening, and he peers at the streaks and smears down his legs and on the floor. "What d'you have, a lotion addiction? I'm scared to move now. I'm gonna slip."

"You loved it, all of it." Hidaka scuffs his fingers through the back of Nishijima's hair.

Nishijima drops another quick kiss on the end of his nose. "I love you. Wanna shower off before bed?"

As Nishijima turns away, Hidaka succumbs to the impulse he has to give his ass a light slap that turns into a squeeze. Maybe, he thinks, he won't have the mirror taken out for a while yet after all. It definitely has major attractions, the same as heading out tomorrow to buy a king-size bottle of lubricant does. That isn't to say that he'd ever put one in the bedroom as well, but it's something good to picture.