There are so many goddamn doors.
And it doesn’t seem to make any difference at all how many of them Die pushes open, because there are countless more behind every single one; it’s just a maze of brightly-colored doors and there’s never a destination where Die could get some privacy, which is all he wants.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been hard, only that it needs to be dealt with immediately, and if he can’t find somewhere to jack off in peace soon, he will most likely explode in the least pleasant of ways.
He adjusts himself, his pants uncomfortably tight as he hurries past more and more of these doors, swinging randomly on all sides of him. He can’t hold out much longer.
The red door in front of him leads into a stall, walled-off from any further entrances—but utterly impractical: the walls only start at waist level and barely reach the top of his head. If he whips himself out here, he’ll be totally exposed.
And he can’t very well pretend no one is around to see him. As he stands in the stall, one hand cupping the borderline painful bulge in his pants, he’s distantly aware that he’s surrounded. There are faceless strangers on all sides of the stall, and though he can’t really see them, he knows they’re waiting for him to act.
The desperation overwhelms him and he rips his fly open only to look down at himself in shock as he discovers he’s wearing panties, red and silky and doing a wholly inadequate job of containing his erection.
He can’t recall ever having worn such underwear before, but the lace trim is softer than he expects, and when he takes himself in hand the textures of the fabric feel like heaven rubbing against his cock. He knows he’s being watched now, that everyone around can see how his hand moves so eagerly over his length, and it only excites him more. Voices are murmuring indistinctly and Die is sure he hears a few moans as some of his audience follow his example, start stroking themselves off as they watch him.
He doesn’t last, having waited so long for his release, and when he cums he moans loud enough for everyone to hear—the full performance.
He even moans aloud as his hips arch fully off the bed and he wakes alone in his room, shuddering with the remnants of his dreamed pleasure.
The dream doesn’t quite fade from his memory the way so many dreams do. Over the next several days, Die finds himself thinking of it again and again, of the sensation of being watched, of the feel of the satin sliding so perfectly against his cock. He has to wonder where it all came from so suddenly, since he’s never really considered these particular kinks in the past, not consciously.
All in all, it’s more distracting than he’d like, and he’s fighting off a boner thinking of his dream even as he sits in the break room with Kyo after a meeting to discuss the new single.
“Something bothering you?” Kyo asks without looking fully at him.
There was a time a time when Die knows Kyo wouldn’t have asked. But recently they've been spending more time together, even outside of work, and he’s pretty sure he can call Kyo a friend without hesitating. He might not have predicted that he would grow to feel so close to him, but the fact is that he trusts him more than just about anyone.
Perhaps that’s why, rather than wave off the question and move on with is life, Die purses his lips and says, “You’re kind of an exhibitionist, right?”
There’s no one else in the room to overhear them, but Kyo looks at Die with wide eyes for a few seconds before laughing unrepentantly. “Well, shit, what gave it away?”
Die shrugs. “Not asking in a judgey way.” It’s fairly obvious how Kyo gets off on being in front of an audience, and he can’t possibly think other people don’t notice.
For Die, it’s all kind of new. Sure, he loves performing, but until his dream, he hadn’t ever thought he’d like to be watched doing that kind of thing. Now that it’s practically all he can think about, he’s close to desperate to make his fantasy a reality, and he doesn’t have the audience to fill that part of it.
After all, where could he find someone to willingly sit and watch him touching himself? It’s hardly like someone of his semi-celebrity status can pick up a random date for something kinky; the rumor mill risk is too great. And if he’s honest, Die doesn’t really trust easily enough for something like that anyway.
So he needs someone he knows he can trust.
Who might also be into some kinky shit.
Die makes determined eye contact with the coffee table in front of him as he takes a deep breath and asks, “How do you feel about the other side of it?”
In his peripheral vision, he sees Kyo cock his head thoughtfully.
“I guess… it would depend on who I was watching,” Kyo says.
This is the part where Die is supposed to clearly state his proposition, but he’s not sure he can force the right words out of his mouth. Kyo is sitting there, patient but expectant, and even if he knows what Die wants to say, he’s not going to make it any easier on him by voicing his assumptions.
“Would you like to watch me?” Die blurts out, the words nearly tripping over themselves in his haste to be rid of them.
Kyo doesn’t answer right away, and Die gets the distinct impression that he’s about to be let down gently. But then Kyo says, “I think… we ought to be very clear about what we’re discussing here. Would I, hypothetically, or… ? I don’t think you meant it as a hypothetical. But for me… My answer would be yes.”
Something Die can’t quite put into words rushes through him, and he nods. “Will you come over to my place? We can lay out—establish any, um, boundaries, or make sure we’re on the same page.”
Kyo is still looking at him like he expects Die to suddenly say he was joking, but he nods, too, slowly. “When did you have in mind?”
“Tonight?” Die says. It’s soon, too soon, but it gives him less time to lose his nerve. “Around eight pm?”
Kyo’s tongue peeks out, wetting his lips, and he agrees.
From there, they fall into an easy conversation about some horror flick coming out that Kyo’s excited about, neither of them saying another word about their evening plans. It’s comfortable and honest, and Die nearly forgets what it is they’re not saying.
It’s only once he returns home for the evening that Die starts to wonder what he’s done. He doesn’t really know how he could have asked Kyo something like that, so bluntly, with so little lead-in. While he’s confident that he can trust Kyo, feels he can say anything to him, he can’t imagine that something like that wasn’t crossing a line.
Even stranger is how Kyo actually agreed to it. As far as Die knows, come eight o’clock, Kyo is going to show up at his place, and they’re going to—what, exactly?
Obviously this is all stuff Die should have figured out ahead of time, well before even bringing up the subject to someone else, to Kyo.
They’ll have to talk about it more, make sure everyone knows what he’s getting himself into, and then, assuming everything is clear…
Die spends the time until eight getting everything tidied up and ready, and can barely contain his excitement at the thought that he might get to fulfill his fantasy this very night.
He doesn’t have the chance to worry (or hope) that Kyo wasn’t serious about coming, because he’s exactly on time, the doorbell buzzing briefly at eight on the dot.
Kyo’s face reveals nothing as Die invites him inside; not nervousness, amusement, desire. He just nods politely and removes his shoes and jacket once he comes in.
It seems too forward to try and have their conversation in the bedroom, though Die considers it naturally the most comfortable room in his apartment. Instead, he invites Kyo to sit on the small sofa in his living room and sits facing him with a cup of tea.
“So,” Kyo says, before they can sit long enough for it to feel awkward, “you invited me here… because you want someone to watch you.”
Die is a little surprised that Kyo dives right into it like that, but he supposes he shouldn’t be. He nods. “And because I trust you, specifically.”
“And you want me to watch you, doing what, precisely?” Kyo’s eyebrows lift, curious, but without judgment.
Die makes sure to meet Kyo’s eyes, to answer as directly as possible. “Touching myself. I want you to see me, stroking myself off until I cum.”
Kyo looks thoughtful for a few seconds, then one corner of his mouth curves up. “All right, I’m game. Ready when you are.”
It seems like there should be more to talk about, like it can’t actually be that simple, but Kyo is there on Die’s couch, and Die doesn’t want him to change his mind, so they put their tea cups on the end table, and, without any further preamble, Die stands up where Kyo can see him better as he starts palming at his cock through his jeans.
He’s already partly hard just from anticipation, from talking about it, from the way Kyo is looking at him, giving him his full attention.
At the same time, it’s uncomfortable. It’s too quiet, and although Die’s never been one to get stage fright, the intensity with which Kyo is watching him makes it kind of hard to focus. He runs his fingertips up and down the underside of his clothed cock, but he’s lost as to where to go from there.
His eyes close as he tries to keep his focus on himself, on the sensation and the background knowledge that he’s being watched as he brings himself to full hardness. He finally pops the button on the overly tight jeans and lets his hand slide in to cup himself through his underwear, shivering slightly at how the fabric clings to him.
Just as it’s starting to feel better and better, Kyo speaks up, soft and polite, like he hates to interrupt.
“If it’s okay to ask, what should my role be in this? You want me to watch—should I just keep silent, or… or, do you want me to talk to you…?”
Die looks up at Kyo and nearly chokes on his air. It’s an offer he hadn’t expected, one he never thought to plan for, and his cock twitches against his palm at the idea of it; Kyo’s voice, just rough enough, saying all kinds of things—anything—to him…
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Die manages. “Do you… want to say something?”
Kyo nods. “Just to tell you how gorgeous you are. Like you don’t already know.”
Hearing it in Kyo’s voice is a whole other thing, even if Die does know he’s attractive, and he gasps as a pulse of pre-cum soaks the material at the head of his prick. He wants to hear more.
“I think I could watch you all night,” Kyo continues. “Even if I never saw more than this. Just the pleasure on your face, the tremble of your body… Fuck.”
A smile pulls at Die’s mouth. “Glad you’re enjoying the show.” He strokes himself more firmly, already aware of the heat coiling low in his belly.
“I truly am.” Kyo’s gaze isn’t remotely subtle as it travels down the length of Die’s body. There’s still nothing much to see other than Die’s hand disappearing into his pants, but it’s clearly more than enough to keep Kyo’s interest.
Die wants to show him more, show him everything. He wants to bend over and spread himself open, present everything for Kyo’s approval, hear Kyo say what a pretty hole he has, for Kyo to be impressed by just how many fingers he can take.
The fantasy is getting away from him, and abruptly, Die has to grasp himself at the base to keep himself form losing it.
Kyo notices—how could he miss it with the way his eyes are fixed on Die’s every movement?—and asks, “Are you that close already?”
It should be a humiliating question, one that Die wants to deny, to escape judgment, but it doesn’t feel that way at all. On the contrary, Die feels the pull, urging him to confess everything to Kyo, to let him know exactly how affected he is by Kyo’s mere presence.
Swallowing, Die says, “I—really like how you watch me.”
There’s a smile, or it could be closer to a smirk, in Kyo’s voice when he replies, “Yeah? It’s a rush, isn’t it? Showing off, knowing someone is looking at you, wanting you…”
Fuck, Die thinks, did Kyo just say he wants me?
“Can you tell me how it feels?” Kyo says lowly.
“Good,” Die says. He’s aching and one hand has wandered beneath his shirt to pluck at his nipples. He feels broken, but like he’s still waiting to hit the ground and fully shatter. “S-sensitive.” The hand in his pants creeps lower, massaging behind his balls, and he moans. “But I want—kinda wish I had something in my ass.”
A pause, then Kyo asks, “Is there a toy you want to grab…?”
Die thinks about it, about Kyo watching him impale himself on the biggest cock he owns, praising him for how well he takes it—but he shakes his head. Maybe next time.
For now, there’s already something he has planned, something he wants to show him, but needs to work up the nerve for, and he sneaks a glance at Kyo where he’s still sitting patiently on the couch. For the most part he seems calm, unaffected, but his eyes are dark, his lips just barely parted. As Die’s eyes rake down Kyo’s body, he finds his palms plastered to his thighs like he’s afraid to move them, and his pants tented unmistakably.
Taking confidence from that, Die moves his own hands to finally push his jeans down his thighs. It’s the moment of truth, if he’s going to take things too far, and he can’t deny that he’s still nervous to see how Kyo will react to the revelation that Die is wearing lingerie under his clothes.
His head is tipped forward, allowing Die to hide behind the curtain of his long hair as he lets Kyo see exactly what he’s wearing, how his cock strains against the red lace.
Die holds his breath, peers at Kyo, thinking at first that he’s put off, but then he can see how Kyo’s grip tightens on his own thighs, how his eyes are glued to the wet spot at the front of Die’s panties.
Slowly, Die lifts his head and drags his fingertips once more up the length of his cock, addicted to how Kyo tracks the movement. He sighs, the freedom of it seeping into his bloodstream, and feeling bold, he whispers, “Do you like them?”
Kyo nods jerkily and a brief, awkward laugh comes out of him. “I feel like I should have expected… You always look so good.”
Die gives a happy moan at the compliment, and goes after himself a bit harder, molding his hand around the shape of his dick as much as he can without pushing the underwear aside. “Feels so fucking good.”
“I bet.” He can hear Kyo swallow. “Goddamn, you look…”
More pre-cum leaks from Die’s cock at the strain in Kyo’s voice. He’s so close now. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Fuck, Die, you’ve got me so hard,” Kyo says, sounding almost regretful. “I want to touch you.”
Die moans again, louder than before. He looks down at his hand, jerking his cock desperately where it’s still trapped within the red panties. He can’t bring himself to take them off now, not when he’s seconds away from spilling.
“Holy shit,” Kyo gasps. One hand is now pressed over his bulge like he’s trying to keep control of himself. “Holy shit, you’re going to cum in them.”
It’s true. Die doesn’t think there’s any chance of that not happening. Still, he surprises himself by suddenly saying, “Take it out.”
It must surprise Kyo as well, because he looks up at him with wide eyes.
“Take out your dick,” Die repeats, since there’s no point trying to take it back now. “I want to see you, too—if you want.” He pauses to breathe. “I want to see you touching yourself, for me.”
Kyo obeys, scrambling to get his pants out of the way and let his hard cock spring gloriously free. It’s as beautiful as Die expected, and just seeing it almost pushes him over the edge, especially combined with the knowledge that that’s because of Die. Die did that to him, and Kyo is letting him see it.
“Talk to me,” Die demands.
“’m so fuckin’ hard, just from watching you,” Kyo says, one hand wrapping around his thick length. “Never been so turned on just looking at someone before.” He bites his lip. “God, I wanna see you cum. Make a mess in those fucking panties.”
“Oh, fuck,” Die grits out through his teeth, and that’s all he manages before everything snaps and he’s suddenly cumming with a cry, so hard that he almost falls to the floor, only barely stumbling the few steps to collapse onto the couch instead, close enough to Kyo that he could reach over and touch him.
“Jesus fuck,” Kyo mutters. His eyes are still on the mess of sticky red lace as he says, “Can… can I see?”
Tiredly, Die nods and pulls the panties down below his balls to reveal his spent, cum-covered cock.
Kyo groans at the sight, mumbles something about Die being beautiful, and before Die can even request that he do so, Kyo cums, spurting dramatically up onto his shirt and covering his hand.
Die smiles as he watches Kyo sag back against the couch, exhausted. “We’ll have to do this again, sometime.” One last thrill of nerves goes through him as he adds, “Maybe with more than just watching.”
Kyo’s laugh is weak but genuine. “I’d like that.”