\nAuthors<\/b>: mousapelli<\/a> and rikikomori<\/a>
\nRating\/Warnings<\/b>: R
\nSummary<\/b>: Of all the times Fujigaya should have never answered his phone, riding the bullet train late at night rates up at the top of the list.
\nAN<\/b>: Written for the long-distance kink bingo card, for “dirty talk,” “phone sex,” and “exhibitionism” to complete a diagonal. <\/p>\n
Call Someone Who Cares<\/b><\/p>\n
Of all the times Fujigaya should have never answered his phone, riding the bullet train late at night rates up at the top of the list. It’s not even that he had his ringtone turned on\u00e2\u20ac\u201dit was still on vibrate from rehearsals\u00e2\u20ac\u201dbut one look at the caller ID had him rushing to accept the call, thinking the worst.<\/p>\n
“I’m bored,” Kitayama’s low voice pierces through the hum of the train. “What are you wearing?”<\/p>\n
Fujigaya rolls his eyes. “I actually thought someone was hurt<\/i>, you asshole.”<\/p>\n
“You’re on the train, right?” Kitayama asks, ignoring Fujigaya’s insults as usual, and Fujigaya feels a shiver like Kitayama was actually there watching him. “Is there anyone else awake?”<\/p>\n
“I don’t think so,” Fujigaya answers, looking around as discreetly as he can and only seeing a few businessmen slumped over their briefcases with their eyes closed. “What do you want?”<\/p>\n
“I told you, I’m bored,” Kitayama says firmly, like that explains everything. “And so are you, since there’s no one to talk to and you don’t sleep well in public.”<\/p>\n
He’s got him there, Fujigaya thinks. “Fine, I’ll talk to you. What’s up?”<\/p>\n
“That’s not what I asked.” Kitayama’s voice gets deeper, if that’s even possible, and Fujigaya feels that shiver again. “What are you wearing?”<\/p>\n
“You’re not serious\u00e2\u20ac\u201d”<\/p>\n
“Answer the goddamn question and I might make it worth your while,” Kitayama cuts him off, and there’s something about his tone that has Fujigaya licking his lips and looking around one last time.<\/p>\n
“The same thing I wore at rehearsal,” Fujigaya answers with a sigh. “T-shirt and track pants, jacket zipped up because it’s cold in here.”<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Unzip it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama orders.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya rolls his eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I just said, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cold!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Slow,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama continues, as if Fujigaya hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t said anything. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Slow like I would. Let your fingers brush the front of your T-shirt a little on the way down.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is ridiculous,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya scoffs, but one hand comes up without permission to toy with his zipper pull, and his voice isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t very commanding. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why should I?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Slow, Taisuke,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama repeats, the command silkier this time, Kitayama\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice low enough to make Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s skin prickle. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s as if Kitayama is right next to him instead of half a prefecture away, whispering into Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s ear. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Take your time for me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Whatever,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya says, voice quiet enough that probably Kitayama can barely hear it. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s already dragging his zipper down, though, slow like Kitayama asked. He tugs it down, past his sternum, past his stomach, knuckles brushing over his T-shirt lightly. He shivers a little, as if it really were Kitayama behind him and reaching around to unzip him instead of his own hand. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hmm,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama hums, enough like I knew it<\/i> to make Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hackles rise. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now run your fingers over your stomach, over your shirt, light as you can.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mitsu\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya protests, because he is not doing this on a train, seriously, but Kitayama interrupts him before he gets out another word.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he breathes into the phone. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m pretending it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s you. I love your hands, you know. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s driving me crazy thinking about you having them on me properly, like I want you to. You want me to touch you too, right?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya gives in and lets his head tip back against the seat, closing his eyes. When he grazes his fingers across his stomach, so lightly, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s easy to imagine they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re Kitayama\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hands instead, warm and guitar-callused, familiar from all the times they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been forced to hold hands for some stupid shoot.<\/p>\n
“That was entirely too easy,” Kitayama says with a short laugh. “I should have made a bet.”<\/p>\n
“Shut up,” Fujigaya mumbles, shooting a quick glance to the side to see if there has been any stirring amongst the train. There hasn’t. “Shut up and keep going.”<\/p>\n
Kitayama makes a low, pleased noise, and Fujigaya feels it course throughout his entire body. “What makes you think I’m going to do all of the work?”<\/p>\n
“You called me,” Fujigaya answers simply. “And I’m on the train<\/i>.”<\/p>\n
“I am very aware that you’re on the train,” Kitayama says, his voice deepening, and Fujigaya shifts at the lust that seems to tickle his ear. “I wonder how far you’ll go.”<\/p>\n
Suddenly it feels like someone poured ice-cold water down the back of Fujigaya’s shirt, freezing him to the spot. “How far do you want<\/i> me to go?” he hisses.<\/p>\n
“We both know the answer to that question,” Kitayama tells him, and dammit, he’s right. Even on a train, even with just a voice for stimulation, Fujigaya’s hand twitches on his belly with the urge to go down<\/i>. “As long as you don’t stop, neither will I.”<\/p>\n
“What does that me\u00e2\u20ac\u201d” Fujigaya starts, but then Kitayama lets out a noise that cannot be mistaken for anything other than what it is, a soft moan that has Fujigaya squirming and wanting to adjust his pants. Though he doesn’t dare touch himself right now; apparently that’s on the agenda for later, anyway.<\/p>\n
“You can feel it, right?” Kitayama asks, and Fujigaya nods before he remembers that Kitayama can’t see him. “Go higher, Taisuke. Are your nipples sensitive? I bet they are, with as much as you try to hide them. Take one between your fingers for me, over your shirt.”<\/p>\n
Fujigaya makes sure to keep his jacket covering his arm as he follows directions, curling toward the window like he’s sleeping. He’s nearly shaking with anticipation, the thrill of doing this in public, even if he’s not really doing anything yet. He’s already straining his jeans, every move he makes a rub of friction, and he jerks slightly when he runs a finger over a nipple, inhaling sharply.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thought so,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama chuckles, the noise rubbing over Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s skin. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You like that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d When Fujigaya doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t answer right away, Kitayama coaxes, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tell me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya murmurs. He pinches a little harder and the whimpered ah<\/i> he gives into the phone is echoed almost immediately by Kitayama. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now what?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Run your finger over your collarbone,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama answers, so quickly Fujigaya is sure that he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s thought about this, about the things he wants to do to Fujigaya. It makes Fujigaya shiver, wondering how long Kitayama\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been working on this fantasy, if he thinks about it in bed or in the shower, if he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gotten himself off to it. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Slip your finger under your collar and trace it, touch your skin for me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
As soon as he obeys, Fujigaya has to bite down on a groan that is not at all okay for the train, sleeping neighbors or not. Even though he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not touching anywhere very scandalous, it sets off a chain reaction over his skin that reaches down much lower under his shirt, making him want to strip the whole thing off so the fabric isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t tickling his over-sensitive skin.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Even over the phone you sound good,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama praises, and Fujigaya has to say that he agrees, the feeling mutual. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How badly do you want to touch yourself right now?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153A lot,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya mutters, already flushed cheeks going even pinker. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all he can do to keep from groping himself right through his track pants, but he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s afraid if he starts he won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be able to stop.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m already touching myself,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama says, then laughs when Fujigaya hisses a couple choice curse words, the sound rich and low. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You want to, right?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not here!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya hissed, a little panicked because he isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sure he can really tell Kitayama no in his current state, but he has enough sense to realize that anybody could come into the train car and see him at any moment.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have you getting arrested for public indecency, I suppose,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama says. Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s shoulders relax a little until Kitayama suggests, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Are you on the end of the car near the bathroom?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes…\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya says slowly, glancing around. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll have to stroll by some people and walking is going to be awkward, but if he hustles it up nobody will notice.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hurry,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama encourages, then moans softly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get left behind.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Fujigaya is out of his seat like it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s on fire, positive he looks entirely conspicuous as he shuffles down the aisle of the train car as quickly as he can. When he gets to the space between the cars, the bathroom is mercifully unoccupied, and he shuts himself in it quickly and locks it before slumping against the door in relief. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m inside.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
“I wish,” Kitayama says, his voice pure sin, and Fujigaya’s too distracted by the little hitches of breath in his ear to realize what Kitayama had just implied until after the fact. “Too bad I’m not there with you. Do you want to know what I’d do if I was?”<\/p>\n
“Yeah,” Fujigaya replies, and to hell with waiting for instructions\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhis hand is in his pants so fast that he doesn’t even bother untying them. He’ll worry about the circulation of his wrist later. “Tell me, Mitsu.”<\/p>\n
“I’d shove you down onto the toilet and ride you,” Kitayama practically growls, and Fujigaya bites his lip to keep from being too loud; the bathroom isn’t soundproof, after all. “I’d hold onto your shoulders while I bounce on your dick and make you say my name over and over.”<\/p>\n
“Mitsu,” Fujigaya complies, his hand speeding up on its own. “Mitsu, I’m close.”<\/p>\n
“Me too,” Kitayama gasps. “Are you imagining fucking me?”<\/p>\n
Fujigaya wheezes out his next breath. “Yeah.” And he is, his hand tightening around himself like it’s Kitayama’s body, strong thighs on either side of his weighing him down as he rocks back and forth faster than Fujigaya can handle.<\/p>\n
“Good, because so am I.” Kitayama makes a noise that rumbles through the phone, which Fujigaya nearly drops as it brings him to the brink. “Fuck me harder, Taisuke, let me hear you.”<\/p>\n
Tiny moans fall from Fujigaya’s lips as he thrusts up into his own hand, pretending that Kitayama’s on his lap instead of so far away. “Mitsu, fuck, I’m gonna come.”<\/p>\n
“Come for me,” Kitayama hisses. Fujigaya lets go only a second later, pulsing over his hand and shivering all over. Over the phone, which it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a miracle he hasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t dropped right in the sink or worse, he hears Kitayama give a long, low moan that makes the hair on the back of Fujigaya\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s neck rise and sends another wave of aftershocks rippling through him.<\/p>\n
His head falls back against the bathroom door with a thunk as he finishes, panting and thighs shaking like Kitayama had been really riding him. The only difference is that the fantasy wears off right away, leaving him alone in a tiny train bathroom in a pair of despoiled pants he has to wear all the way back to Tokyo.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Fuck,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya sighs.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Fuck yes,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama counters, sounding much more satisfied than Fujigaya feels. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s probably rolling around in his blankets like a little kid, damn him, Fujigaya thinks sourly. But then Kitayama asks, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We can, right? You weren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t just saying that so I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d get you off?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You want to?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Fujigaya blinks. Kitayama having some fun at his expense over the phone is one thing, but this something else entirely. He thinks about having Kitayama in his bed for real, or Kitayama\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bed, or even a hotel bed, and can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stop the soft noise of want from slipping out of his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I told you,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kitayama says. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153As long as you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stop, neither will I.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
“I\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6” Fujigaya starts, still catching his breath as his skin burns even more with the possibility of making this real. “Yeah, okay.”<\/p>\n
“You should hang up before you leave the bathroom,” is all Kitayama says. “You don’t need anyone getting any ideas.”<\/p>\n
Fujigaya hangs up the call and cleans up as much as he can, feeling even more paranoid as he returns to his seat like there had been a camera on him displaying everything he’d just done to the entire train. Naturally nobody is even remotely interested in him right now, letting him relax a little and start to drift off to sleep\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6until his phone vibrates again.<\/p>\n
This time it’s a text: I could go again if you’re up to it<\/i>.<\/p>\n
His nerves spark at the thought, but he just rolls his eyes and sends off one last message before shoving his phone back into his bag.<\/p>\n
Maybe in the morning, and this time I want pictures<\/i>.<\/p>\n
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