It was a dare, Aya realized. And he wasn’t falling for it. He wasn’t going to get caught in a round of one-up. He had no need to prove his courage to the blond.
However—it was his birthday. And it was good cake. Batter. Aya grabbed the slender wrist and sucked Yohji’s little finger clean, staring over the sunglasses into those emerald eyes.
“Dear gods…” Yohji breathed. Aya licked his lips, stuck the blond’s ring finger in his mouth. Drew it out slowly, carefully, using his tongue to make sure he got every speck—Yohji’s knees buckled, he grabbed the counter behind him with his other hand.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Aya suggested before savoring another finger.
“The…the chibis are in the shop…” Yohji protested.
“Good.” Aya took the cigarette, tossed it in the sink. “This is delicious,” he told the blond. “You should try some.” Your turn, Kudou. How far was this going to go?
The playboy tossed his sunglasses on the table, then wiped the back of his hand from Aya’s ear to his collarbone.
“Incredible,” he breathed against Aya’s neck. The redhead shivered and let his arms slide around the blond and just hung on, enjoying that talented mouth. When his own knees went weak, those wiry arms caught him. “Ayan,” Yohji whispered, pulling away to peer into his teammate’s face, “it is delicious. I want more.”
Aya dipped a finger in the bowl, swiped it across his lips. Dabbed a little on the tip of his tongue. Yohji groaned and kissed him. Kami-sama, lemon and strawberry and Yohji…Aya let his fingers slide into soft hair, clutching the blond to him, savoring his taste, wrestling his tongue, feeling the heat pour through him and pool—
With a thump and a crash he found himself on the table. Yohji leaned over him, that sultry smirk on his face as he dipped his hand in the batter. His other hand shoved Aya’s sleeveless shirt up. Aya watched the blond write ‘happy birthday’ on his chest. And let his eyes roll back as Yohji licked it off.
“I think,” the blond murmured, Aya blinked into focus on that smirk above his stomach, “you should have birthdays more often.” He yanked Aya’s shorts and underwear down, wrapped a batter-coated hand around Aya. “I really like this flavor,” he said, stroking.
“Then…” Aya gasped, hands clenching around a dishtowel and…something, “…have some more…”
“You’re too kind.” Yohji put that facile tongue to use, Aya moaned and wrapped his fingers in honey hair and was glad to be alive. That mouth, that smart damn hot talented mouth…he heard himself whimper when the soft heat withdrew. More batter and strong hands, but—
“What do you want?” Yohji asked softly. Aya pried his eyes open to look into those sexy eyes, darkened now with lust. “What do you want, birthday boy? We’re going to run out of batter soon, tell me what you want. Should I use it all here? I’ll blow your mind big time.” A strong, slow stroke. “Or do you want to fuck? Me, or you? On the table, under the table, or up against the counter? Tell me, birthday boy, and I’ll make it happen.”
Aya wriggled and caught the end of Yohji’s belt, yanked. The yukata fell open. As he’d guessed, there was nothing but gorgeous man underneath. Aya grabbed again, Yohji shivered.
“Give me this.”
“It’s yours,” the blond moaned. One long arm snagged the oil from the counter. “Oh, it is so yours!” He lifted Aya’s leg over his shoulder. Aya stuck his hand in the batter, pushed himself up to paint Yohji’s chest. Both men gasped. “So…flexible…” Yohji ground out, leaning into Aya’s tongue.
“Shut up and hurry,” Aya ordered, and smeared some more.
“I am!” Yohji shivered. Aya painted that spot again and bit.
“Now!” he snapped.
“I am!”
“Do it!”
“I am!” Yohji gasped. Aya fell back on his forearms, panting at the feel of the blond inside him. He clenched his legs, pulling the man deeper. Yohji groaned and grabbed his hips. “Aya…”
“Fuck!”
“Like I could…” Yohji drew back, “…stop myself…” He slammed forward.
“Harder!”
“Yes…”
“More!”
“Demanding…bastard…”
“Shut up…and fuck…or I’ll…get my sword…”
Yohji barked a breathless laugh and fucked. Aya clutched the blonde’s biceps and met him, rocking the table. Yohji fucked. Thumps and gasps and groans…the oil fell over. Yohji fucked, Aya rocked, the table banged. The batter fell with a splut! Aya gasped a laugh, they didn’t need it anymore.
“Ayan…” Yohji panted, “…kami, Ayan…beautiful…”
“…touch me…”
Yohji smeared a hand in spilled batter and clutched Aya’s straining erection. Aya fell back with a shout. Yohji groaned and shuddered in the circle of his legs.
“Daaammmnnn,” he breathed after a long moment of panting. Aya smirked at him. Yohji blinked, then grinned.
“You,” he said, “are a mess.”
“So is the kitchen,” Aya pointed out. “And I don’t have to help. It’s my birthday.”
“Ayan! Hidoi!”
Aya chuckled and picked himself off the table, fixed his clothes enough to get him to his room. “It’s my birthday,” he repeated. “Though come to think of it…” he smirked at the blond, “…I don’t believe I gave you a present this year, Kudou.”
On his way out the door he grabbed the can of spray frosting. Butter cream. Yum.
Behind him, Aya heard the rattle as Yohji brought the candy sprinkles.