JE, Share and Share Alike

Title: Share and Share Alike [Hashimoto/Snowman]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, orgy
Summary: Hashimoto is looking for some attention, and the Snowmen could use a new toy to share.
Author’s Note: Written for FQF Get Off Season Challenge. Hasshi invades the Snowmen dressing rooms so often I feel like there’s no way this hasn’t happened at least once. Especially not after Hasshi and Iwamoto got to be such BFFs during BBJ filming. Also, Tottsu and Hasshi’s hammock chair in their dressing room is not made up and I totally want one.

Prompt: #9 – The group shares a senpai/kohai/actor/actress.

Share and Share Alike

They’ve done a million Densetsu shows and have a million more to go, it feels like, but Hashimoto likes this middle part of a run the best. The show is well-practiced, the rough edges all smoothed out, but everybody still has most of their energy.

Well, almost everybody. Hashimoto closes the door to his and Totsuka’s dressing room quietly so he doesn’t wake up Totsuka, out cold in their hammock chair. Since he’s the one usually giving Hashimoto the hard time about napping, it makes Hashimoto chuckle to himself. Even though he’d been coming in to get some attention for himself from Totsuka, Hashimoto doesn’t mind.

This show in particular, Hashimoto doesn’t have to go far for a new batch of playmates.

The Snowman room is this side of too small to contain all their chaos, and no amount of Watanabe trying to tidy up after them can make it anything but a clusterfuck of practice sweats, hair spray, and combini bags. When Hashimoto sticks his head in, only Iwamoto and Sakuma happen to be sitting there, both of them sitting on the floor, Iwamoto holding one of Sakuma’s feet while Sakuma tries to stretch out a cramped leg muscle.

“Hiiiiii-kun~!” Hashimoto sings as he plops down beside Iwamoto, leaning his head onto Iwamoto’s shoulder cutely. “Tottsu’s asleep and I’m lonely. You’ll play with me, right?”

“Ah, sorry,” Iwamoto says, rubbing his cheek against the top of Hashimoto’s head since his hands are too busy to pat him. “Tonight’s been blocked out for member-ai. Snowmen only.”

“Awwww,” Hashimoto pouts, but it’s resigned. Group time is important, after all.

Sakuma gives a relieved whine and flops onto his back, muscle apparently easing up. He kicks at Iwamoto’s hand a little. “Hey, invite him along.”

“What?” Iwamoto asks. Hashimoto makes a very interested noise. Snowmen are second only to A.B.C-Z in stamina and bendiness, after all.

Sakuma pushes up onto his elbows to grin at them. “Aw, it’s like kicking a puppy when you tell him no. It’s just Hasshi, he’s in here enough he almost wears Shota’s costume on stage half the time. Anyway, it’s still Snowmen time even if we bring a toy, right?”

“Well…” Iwamoto hedges, but he has to give in between Sakuma’s obvious interest and Hashimoto’s hopeful grin.

Hashimoto is all about how serious Snowmen are about group time, because as it turns out they’ve all gone in for a hotel for the night. He guesses they can’t depend on tour hotels so much, since they’ve been in Tokyo the entire year. It’s why Tackey likes them so much, because they solve their own problems.

Iwamoto, Sakuma, and Hashimoto are the last ones to arrive since they had to gather up Hashimoto’s stuff and tell somebody where they were going so Kawai didn’t think he’d been kidnapped again. Iwamoto texted when they were almost there, so Miyadate is waiting in the lobby for them, hair still damp from the shower and looking comfortable in his stolen staff hoodie.

“Guess there’s no point in dressing up any fancier than that,” Hashimoto says in approval, reaching over to tug one of the hoodie’s strings. “Since you won’t have it on long.” Iwamoto shushes him, but Sakuma laughs.

Upstairs, Abe is already sprawled on his back in the middle of the king-sized bed, Fukasawa leaning down to kiss him lazily, both of them in barely-tied hotel yukata. Watanabe is watching them shamelessly, predictably wearing nothing already. At the sound of the door, he turns around with a grin that’s all for Miyadate.

“Finally!” he says. It’s only after Miyadate plops down beside him on the edge of the bed and tweaks Watanabe’s waist that Watanabe turns his attention to the others. “So you guys really did bring a stowaway.”

“We didn’t pack him in our luggage,” Sakuma laughs.

“It’s okay, right?” Hashimoto asks, just to make sure. He slides arms around Iwamoto’s waist and hugs him from behind, resting his chin on Iwamoto’s shoulder. Watanabe waves off Hashimoto’s concerns. “Are you sure? I didn’t even get a hello from my other drama buddy.”

“H’lo,” Fukasawa mumbles against Abe’s mouth. Watanabe whacks him over the back of his head, making him look up. Underneath him, Abe’s cheeks are already pink, hair mussed from Fukasawa’s wandering fingers.

“Hey, Hasshi-kun,” Abe greets. He tries to sit up, but both Watanabe and Fukusawa casually push him back down.

“Hey,” Hashimoto replies easily. Abe sure looks good all spread out like that, better even since he seems a little flustered. Hashimoto is awfully jealous of his spot though, between his two drama ex-co-stars. “Ne,” he says in Iwamoto’s ear, fingers toying with the hem of Iwamoto’s shirt. “Being in the middle like that looks fun, doesn’t it? Can I really be your toy?”

“Hmm,” Iwamoto says, like he’s thinking that over really hard. “I don’t know, can you really handle all of us?” He waits until Hashimoto is done laughing to shrug out of his hug and shove him towards the bed. “Pick your spot then, and remember you asked for it.”

Hashimoto’s clothes are gone faster than a mid-solo costume change, and he flops down in the middle of the bed right next to Abe, the surrounding Snowmen only shifting a little like throwing a rock into a pond of ducks. He turns his head to grin at Abe. “Hi again.”

“Hi,” Abe says, distracted by Fukasawa holding down his wrists while Watanabe unties his yukata the rest of the way. Fabric out of the way, Watanabe draws circles around Abe’s bellybutton until Abe whines and squirms. “Shotaaaaa. Pick on Miya-chan, he’s still dressed!”

“Ryota can take care of himself,” Watanabe assures. He glances over to see Miyadate with a lapful of Sakuma and hums his approval. He flicks a glance over at Iwamoto, just watching so far. “Looks like Gan-chan might need some help, though.”

“You offering some help?” Iwamoto asks, spreading his hands wide as if he’s confused by all these silly buttons and zippers. Watanabe gives Abe’s tummy a last tweak and scrambles to the edge of the bed, reaching out to tug Iwamoto close enough to kiss by the belt loops. He sits up on his knees to collect a kiss as prepayment for his de-costuming services, not that it stops him from having Iwamoto’s zipper undone in half a second flat.

“Nice,” Hashimoto approves. He nudges Abe with an elbow. “But we can totally beat them, right?”

“R—” Abe’s answer is cut off by Hashimoto’s mouth. Abe is a shy kisser at first, but Hashimoto isn’t in a rush, he’s here to enjoy himself. It’s worth the wait when Abe starts kissing back, lips plush and warm against Hashimoto’s, making a tiny noises when Hashimoto brushes a thumb over Abe’s cheekbone.

“That looks so good,” Fukasawa says. Hashimoto breaks the kiss to find Fukusawa grinning at them from very close, leaning up on one elbow for a better view. He leans in to collect a kiss of his own, and Hashimoto is just fine with Fukasawa’s enthusiasm too.

Hashimoto isn’t surprised to feel a hand on his bare hip, not sure if it’s Miyadate or Sakuma. Either’s fine, so he doesn’t stop making out with Fukasawa to see for sure. Instead he just bends his knee when the hand trails over his ass, ever helpful. It’s not until Abe starts squirming, winning back Fukusawa’s attention, that Hashimoto looks over his shoulder to see that it’s Sakuma teasing at his rim with a fingertip. Miyadate is behind Sakuma, with a couple fingers already inside him.

“You guys don’t waste time,” Hashimoto says with approval, and Sakuma hums breathily in agreement.

“Date’s fingers are the best,” Sakuma praises, arching his back and wiggling his ass a little for emphasis.

“Compliments won’t make me rush,” Miyadate says mildly. He leans around Sakuma to grin at Hashimoto. “But they might get you the next spot in line, so feel free to try.”

“Heyyyyy,” Watanabe whines from the end of the bed, where he’s got Iwamoto naked and spread out longways across the end of the bed. Miyadate tells Watanabe to shush and share nicely, and Hashimoto stretches just a bit to poke Iwamoto in the ribs with his toe.

“Jerk,” Iwamoto says, slapping at Hashimoto’s foot to stop him tickling. He groans when Watanabe’s mouth slides back over his cock, one hand buried in Watanabe’s hair to urge him to take more. It looks really good, and the soft, wet noises of Fukasawa and Abe kissing are right next to his ear, and Sakuma’s finger needs to be inside him already.

“Come on,” Hashimoto encourages, holding his knee up a little higher, reaching down to grab Sakuma’s wrist. “Are you gonna play with me or what?”

“Toys don’t get to make demands,” Sakuma informs him with a sharp grin, still teasing. His grin turns into a moan suddenly, and Hashimoto switches his attention to Miyadate behind him, pushing his cock inside of Sakuma, slowly like he’s testing the fit.

“Think you might be ready,” Miyadate says, chuckling when he only gets a whine in response from Sakuma. He pulls back out, just as slowly, until he’s almost pulled free, and then pushes right back in. Hashimoto’s cock twitches at the tease of it and he’s not even getting touched.

That doesn’t last long. A weight against his legs makes Hashimoto look down to find Fukusawa sprawled partly across Abe and partly across himself, wrapping one hand around each of their cocks and eyeing both of them as if he can’t decide where to start.

“Try not to come so early this time,” he says to Abe, making Hashimoto and Sakuma both laugh. Abe throws them a dirty look before Fukasawa’s mouth sliding down over his cock distracts him. Fukasawa only bobs his head a few times before turning to Hashimoto and doing the same to him, drawing a low moan out of Hashimoto’s throat. It feels just as good as it looks, Fukasawa’s eyes dark and focused on Hashimoto’s reactions, his tongue lapping at Hashimoto’s head. He keeps switching back and forth like that, only sucking off either one of them long enough to get them really interested before switching again.

“Damn,” Hashimoto says, head tipping back in pleasure. “No wonder Abe-chan has trouble holding back.”

“He looks so good when he gets it in the face too,” Miyadate says over Sakuma’s shoulder. He’s still thrusting slow and deep, holding Sakuma’s hips firmly to keep him from speeding things up himself. “That’s his secret weapon, once you know how hot that is, you never want to hold back.”

Fukasawa laughs, breaking the suction he had going around Hashimoto. “You guys keep telling yourself that’s the reason.”

“Ryotaaaaaaa,” Sakuma whines plaintively, and then whines again in frustration when Miyadate pulls out of him completely.

“Hush, you.” Miyadate gives Sakuma a ringing slap to the ass, pushing him forward. “Play with this guy a bit so I can get him ready without distractions.”

“Pull your knees up so I can see too,” Watanabe says, sitting up from where he was lying over top of Iwamoto. He wraps his hand around both of their cocks at the same time, his long fingers making his slow stroke worth watching as well. “I definitely want to see Ryota’s fingers inside you.”

“I’d take anything inside me right now,” Hashimoto announces. But it’s okay when Sakuma crawls into his lap and sinks down onto his cock. “Mmm, that’s pretty good too.”

“Not so rough!” Iwamoto warns Sakuma from the end of the bed. “The rest of us should get a chance to play with our new toy too.”

Sakuma ignores him, already planting his hands in the center of Hashimoto’s chest so that he can roll his hips, groaning in pleasure as he can finally get fucked the way he wants, even if he has to make all the effort himself. Hashimoto can see why Iwamoto felt the need for the warning; Sakuma isn’t holding anything back after being teased. When Miyadate slides the first finger in, Hashimoto twists his fingers in the sheets, panting for air.

“Good?” Sakuma asks, and Hashimoto nods as fast as he can, in total agreement. “His dick is even better. When he fucks you with it properly,” Sakuma tosses over his shoulder, but Miyadate only laughs at him and pushes a second finger into Hashimoto.

“At this rate, I might not even last,” Fukasawa says, eyes darting from Sakuma to Miyadate like he can’t decide where to look. “Budge up,” he orders Abe, pushing at him with insistent hands. “Let Hasshi suck you off.”

Abe gets up to his knees, wobbling a little on the mattress before he grabs the headboard for balance, and then shuffles up where Fukasawa is pushing him, careful not to put a knee down on Hashimoto’s hair. Hashimoto turns his head and opens his mouth, making it easy for Abe to feed his cock to him. His tip is already salty from all of Fukasawa’s attention, and Hashimoto moans soft approval. Abe is watching him intently, making sure he doesn’t choke Hashimoto with the way Sakuma is still riding him hard enough to bounce a little, and Hashimoto has no problem relaxing his jaw and letting Abe take care of it. Abe’s the most dependable Snowman, after all.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Fukasawa praises both of them, maybe all of them. He gets up to his own knees to press against Abe’s back, rubbing his own cock between the cheeks of Abe’s ass.

“All set,” Miyadate announces, tugging his fingers free and making Hashimoto whine around Abe’s cock. “Ne, Shota, you want to take him for a test drive?”

Before you can say “Jason Derulo,” there’s a new pair of hands on Hashimoto’s ass, thumbs spreading him open so that Watanabe can have as good a look as he wants. Hashimoto would spread his legs wider if Sakuma’s weight weren’t pinning him down; Watanabe’s low noise as he pushes just the tip of one thumb in doesn’t sound disappointed in his view, though.

“It’s really okay if I play with him first?” Watanabe asks coyly, and when nobody stops him he adds, “I’m coming in~,” as if he’s waltzing into somebody’s apartment. His cock feels amazing to Hashimoto’s overstimulated nerves as he pushes in. When he bottoms out, he wraps arms around Sakuma’s waist and nuzzles at his shoulder, which actually helps Hashimoto since it slows Sakuma’s motion. “Three Snowmen at once is pretty good for a toy.”

“It’s about to be two,” Miyadate says, and he’s not wrong. Abe is starting to thrust more irregularly into Hashimoto’s mouth, obviously close to coming. Fukasawa wraps a hand around the base of Abe’s cock and pulls him backwards suddenly, jerking him off.

“On his face, like you said before,” he orders. Abe’s breath catches and then he’s coming, shuddering against Fukasawa as his come splashes across Hashimoto’s nose and lips. “Damn, that is hot. No wonder you freaks do that to me so much. Look, don’t miss it.”

Hashimoto is licking some of Abe off his lips when Abe manages to peel his eyes open. They’re so dark brown with lust that Hashimoto can only grin.

“Abe-chan tastes pretty good,” he reports. Fukasawa reaches down to wipe a few drops off of Hashimoto’s nose, and then licks it off his fingers, humming his agreement.

It’s too much for Hashimoto, with Sakuma riding him and Watanabe fucking him. He can’t even stutter out a warning before he’s coming, thrusting up into Sakuma as deeply as he can as his orgasm crashes over him and leaves him limp and tingling all over.

“Shouldn’t have ridden him so hard,” Watanabe chastises, getting only an unapologetic “Oops” from Sakuma. “You okay down there, Hasshi-chan?”

Hashimoto stretches, feeling wonderful all over, like he’s glowing from head to toe. “Yup, I’m awesome.” Sakuma’s weight shifts, leaning forward, and Hashimoto feels his cock slip free just before Sakuma presses their lips together. It’s weirdly sweet, given the way Watanabe is still fucking him, and when Sakuma leans back, Hashimoto’s eyes flutter open.

“You’re pretty good.” He winks. “While you last.” Sakuma laughs when Hashimoto splutters at him, then tumbles to the side, asking Miyadate and Iwamoto who wants to help clean him up. Abe has slid back down to the bed, slumped on his side trying to catch his breath, leaving Fukasawa and Watanabe to pay attention to Hashimoto.

Now that there’s nobody in the way, Hashimoto lifts heavy arms to get his hands on Watanabe’s skin, tracing the bumps of his ribs, dragging fingertips over his nipples. Watanabe moans softly in encouragement, still fucking Hashimoto steadily. Snowman stamina is not to be sneezed at, apparently.

“Tell me something he likes,” Hashimoto says, turning his head towards Fukasawa. Fukasawa trails fingers over the drips of white still near Hashimoto’s lips while he thinks a moment, and Hashimoto uses his tongue to coax those fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, teasing at them with flickers of his tongue.

“I know one thing, but you can’t reach,” Fukasawa finally says. He pulls his fingers free and taps Hashimoto’s lips with them. “I’ll help, though.” He sits back up on his knees and leans in against Watanabe’s side, mouth near Watanabe’s ear as if he’s going to whisper a secret. Instead, he sucks Watanabe’s earlobe into his mouth, licking delicately at Watanabe’s double piercing.

“Ohhhhhh,” Watanabe gasps, his grip on Hashimoto’s hips tightening suddenly. “Tatsuya!”

Fukasawa doesn’t let up, licking and sucking at Watanabe’s ear, sliding a hand up his chest to pinch Watanabe’s nipples, the other brushing up and down Watanabe’s side, occasionally bumping into Hashimoto’s fingers. One or both of those is clearly Watanabe’s weak point, because it isn’t long after that that Watanabe gives a beautiful wail and comes. Hashimoto moans softly too, the twitching of Watanabe’s cock inside of him still feeling amazing.

“My turn now, right?” Fukasawa asks, still murmuring into Watanabe’s ear, and Watanabe pushes him away with a laugh, shivering from overstimulation.

“Whatever, have him,” he says, pulling his cock out and all but collapsing next to Hashimoto. He rolls onto his side after only a second though, pouting cutely. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

Hashimoto is happy to comply, Watanabe apparently not caring at all that Abe’s release is still drying on Hashimoto’s face. He licks at Hashimoto’s lips and Hashimoto opens up to him right away, their tongues sliding against each other in a lazy tangle. Fukasawa pushes into Hashimoto just then, and Hashimoto moans against Watanabe’s mouth, turning the kiss messy and breathless.

Fukasawa only takes a few minutes, having waited just as long as Abe, but instead of coming inside, he pulls out to fist himself over Hashimoto’s stomach with a long groan. For a moment he hovers there, admiring his handiwork, then falls down against Hashimoto’s side opposite Watanabe, jostling Abe over. Watanabe and Fukasawa amuse themselves by trailing fingers through Fukasawa’s come, smearing it over Hashimoto’s belly and making Hashimoto giggle helplessly at the tickle of it.

“My turn,” Miyadate says authoritatively, making all three of them look up. He gives Hashimoto a sharp grin. “Roll over.”

“Yes sir,” Hashimoto agrees readily enough, getting up onto his knees while Watanabe comments how much he likes it when Miyadate takes charge. Hashimoto settles down on his elbows, lifting his ass higher. He groans helplessly when Miyadate pushes a finger inside of him, his body trying to squeeze tight around it, but at this point just one finger isn’t even close to enough.

“So messy, Shota,” Miyadate drawls. “Can’t you at least clean up after yourself?”

“I clean up after you assholes all day,” Watanabe retorts, not making any move to go anywhere. “Take care of it yourself.”

Hashimoto is not at all expecting the first brush of Miyadate’s tongue instead of his finger again, and gives a groan that people two floors down probably heard. He keeps groaning helplessly as Miyadate uses his thumbs to spread Hashimoto wide open and licks away Watanabe’s mess. He slides his tongue in as far as he can to chase the rest of it, and by the time he picks his head up, Hashimoto is shaking all over and starting to harden again.

“Please,” he begs Miyadate. “Please get inside me, oh god, please.”

Miyadate doesn’t make him wait, pushing his cock inside with one smooth thrust and fucking Hashimoto hard and deep. Hashimoto pushes back desperately, fisting his hands in the sheets underneath him and making a steady stream of noise, eyes squeezed shut. Miyadate digs his fingers into Hashimoto’s hips, maybe hard enough to leave marks, but it only makes Hashimoto get louder, loud enough that he can’t even hear the sound of their skin slapping wetly.

“Fuck yes,” Miyadate groans, and distantly Hashimoto can feel the pulse of him coming, the hot rush of his release leaving him just as messy as when Miyadate started. Hashimoto’s tired thighs give out and he falls flat on his face against the bed. There’s the muffle thump of Miyadate hitting the mattress beside him, and when Hashimoto turns his head so that he doesn’t suffocate, Watanabe is already gathering Miyadate close and stroking hands over his skin, murmuring fond nonsense and brushing Miyadate’s sweaty hair out of his face.

A small but solid weight lands on Hashimoto in a tangle of elbows and knees, making him grunt.

“Just touch me,” Sakuma says, somehow sorting them out so that their legs are tangled more pleasantly, their cocks close enough that Sakuma can hold them together. He grabs one of Hashimoto’s hands and pushes it down so that Hashimoto is stroking them together more effectively, his fingers longer. “Please, oh, I’m so close.”

He isn’t kidding he’s close; barely a dozen strokes later Sakuma is arching and spilling over their hands, making a mess of their hands and stomachs. He doesn’t stop moving his hand, though, bless him, and even though he maybe shouldn’t, Hashimoto thrusts into the touch, chasing his own release. The burn of heat through his veins is worth the small discomfort of coming again too soon, and Hashimoto comes not so much after Sakuma, adding to the mess already smeared all over his skin.

“Mmmm,” Sakuma sighs, rubbing his cheek against Hashimoto’s shoulder, and Hashimoto pats at his hair clumsily with his messy hand, snickering when Sakuma whines.

Gentle hands nudge Sakuma aside and rolls Hashimoto onto his back. When Hashimoto opens his eyes, Iwamoto is leaning over him.

“Wondered where you went,” Hashimoto says, letting his legs flop open. Maybe it’s not the sexiest invitation ever, but he means it. “Thought maybe you didn’t want to try out your new toy after all.”

“I definitely do,” Iwamoto says, eyes roaming Hashimoto’s skin from nose to navel, all of it a mess at this point. Iwamoto licks his lips. “If it’s okay?”

“Definitely,” Hashimoto sighs, giving Iwamoto a tired grin. “Ebi won’t lose to Snowman, you know.”

Hashimoto is a little sore, but Iwamoto still fills good inside of him, more than good enough to make it worth it. He twines arms around Iwamoto’s neck to hold him close as Iwamoto fucks him perfectly, not slow but not rough either. He’s tall enough to kiss like this, which Hashimoto likes almost more than the actual fucking, and Hashimoto loses all sense of time in the messy slide of their tongues, the throb of Iwamoto inside of him, the hot skin of Iwamoto’s back under his fingers.

Eventually Iwamoto comes with a long sigh, but Hashimoto still doesn’t let go. He clings as tightly as his tired limbs will allow while both of them catch their breath, rubbing his cheek against Iwamoto’s chin and shoulder, licking at the salt of Iwamoto’s throat while Iwamoto purrs low in his throat at the gentle touches. After a while, Sakuma is pawing at their sides for attention, but all they do is lift their arms to gather him in as well, Hashimoto having no objections to an extra heating pad, especially not one who kisses him hello.

Eventually, when they crawl out of bed to at least rinse of before bed, except for Miyadate who is still out cold and Abe pinned under Fukasawa, Hashimoto finds he has a mail from Totsuka asking if he got the attention that he wanted after all.

[Snowmen are taking good care of me] he sends back, followed by a string of emoji which Totsuka can use to decode their actual sexual acts, if he’s smart enough. [They’re kind of messy, though.]

“Speak for yourself,” Watanabe says, plucking Hashimoto’s phone out of his hand and dropping it on top of the pile of his clothing. “Come on, shower time. Toys need cleaned after you get them dirty having fun.”

Hashimoto grins and tags along after them into the bathroom. It’s not every day he gets six guys instead of four taking care of him, after all.

2 people like this post.

1 Comment

  • By Kibounohane, 2017.12.12 @ 10:53 am

    This is probably one of the most entertaining things I have read in awhile xD My favourite part is when it’s finally Iwamoto’s turn <3

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