"It's really ridiculous," Yohji could be heard grumbling to himself, "when an elite assassin with tons of money is reduced to riding the subway for lack of a ride..."

Ken and Omi responded to this the only way they could, by glancing at each other in a moment of shared puzzlement, then ignoring Yohji. Aya had been gone a lot lately, probably to avoid listening to Yohji beg for the loan of his car as well as depriving him of the vehicle's presence.

Of course, what no one knew was that Yohji had a ¥20,000 train card in his back pocket at all times and ready for use. He was just leery of hopping on the subway again, that was all.

Since Seven's first few days in the shop, Yohji had been forced to use the subway and discovered the sub-genus of sarariman, the chikan, the pervert. From that encounter stemmed Yohji's reluctance to venture onto the subway once more. Today again Yohji had an appointment; if he didn't take care of his Seven no one would, so he was going to badger a certain shop owner about a certain custom part. In doing this he was being forced to confront the source of his wariness.

The bell to the Koneko jingled.

"Well, I'm leaving!" Yohji called, throwing a flirty wink behind him. There was an audible swoon and Omi exclaimed as half the girls in the shop fluttered.

"Wow, you're really going?" Ken said, obviously surprised. He had been expecting Yohji to ask for his motorcycle again. No one but Ken was allowed to so much as touch it; maybe Yohji had learned his lesson.

"Take care, Yohji-kun!" Omi beamed, waving. He was just relieved Yohji hadn't asked to use the shop's delivery bike.

"Right," Yohji said with a weak grin, adjusting his sunglasses.

Let's face it, Yohji, he told himself, being brutally honest, the real reason you don't want to ride the subway is because you're afraid to meet up with those guys again. Thinking that was accompanied by a flash of memory, a broad-shouldered man in a navy suit with dark hair and a wide-lipped mouth and the other one, the cerulean-eyed blond in the fawn-colored trench coat. He remembered expensive gray slacks and two hard cocks and he shuddered with recall.

And the only reason you're this afraid is because you might have to admit you LIKED it.

It was a beautiful day, the sun and cheerful people on the street belying the nature of the beast that Yohji knew slept within the underbelly of this city. In his tight cargo pants and slippery silk shirt, Yohji wondered again if he'd made a prudent choice both in dressing for the day and in this decision to take the subway. Well, it wasn't like he had a lot of choice.

He pushed through the turnstile and made sure he knew which train he was taking, flirting with the turnstile clerk to reassert his masculinity. Laughing, she gave him directions, charmed by his admission that he was virtually a babe in the woods when it came to riding the subway.

It would be different, he would make his destination with no problems... It was the same train line, though, and come to think of it what time of day was it?

The flood of people shocked him again, reeling him along like a fish in the eddies of the undertow. Yohji fought his way upstream, winning a place for himself on the subway as he clung to the support pole. Superstitiously he glanced around his crowded patch of subway car, almost thinking that the two salarymen would appear just by thinking of them. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Once again, he was wedged into a tight corner. The pole he clung to was at the very end of the car, where he had been pushed and maneuvered by the flow of people both leaving and boarding. He was reminded of sardines again, and wrinkled his nose. That was too frightening a thought, when some of these people were smelly and unkempt and jammed in right next to him.

It drove home the point to Yohji how lucky he was, to have his own apartment. People lived like this. Not only did they go to and from school and business on this crowded railway car, but at home they were crowded into a small diameter, and at work and school packed into the smallest accommodation.

"Dammit..." Yohji sighed, resting his head against the cool metal of the subway car pole. He thought of a funny story he'd heard Ken telling recently, of a salaryman who dove from the window of an express car at sixty miles an hour, rolling to a halt in several meters' worth. That train had been an express train that didn't stop at that station. According to Ken the man had dusted himself off, picked himself up, and gone about his business.

The story didn't seem so funny anymore.

Yohji felt an acute desire for the driver's seat of Seven, the wind tousling up his hair, the latest hit blaring from the souped-up stereo. This time he'd get Seven fixed for sure!

"--happy to hear you'll be helping me out with the plans for Sakura-chan's birthday. Without your help, Hiiragizawa-kun, I would certainly be hard-pressed--"

"--enough. We've been having fun, Shige, but I really don't think you should involve Sho. Now, if you said Fuwa I might change my mind--"

"--he's always been after Fuuko to give him a decisive answer. I guess he just can't accept the reality, niichan." "Don't CALL me that, Koganei, you know--"

"--you think I'm joking? Really, Mika, Leon has been bringing cakes and all kinds of sweets to the Count lately...of course, I only had to 'push' him a little." Feminine laughter.

Yohji sighed again, trying to tune out the banality. He had no interest in other peoples' conversations. The jostling subway car bumped him against the pole again and again and he kept his eyes open, scanning the backs of the people hemming him in. There was an uneasy knot in the pit of his stomach. He was reminded again of the two salaryman-perverts who had ambushed him.

How could he not be reminded?

Yohji tossed his loose dark hair back. The railway train had stopped twice since he'd boarded, and now it was slowing for the third time.

The shift and swirl of the crowd forced him to the back of the car, polite murmurs of 'excuse me' and 'pardon' all around him nevertheless easing him from the anchor of his support pole to the furthest corner, back by the locked 'no-entry' door and a lone seat with a metal partition blocking it off from a row of four. A little old man occupied the seat and he got up with a wheeze as Yohji was maneuvered to the rear of the car.

"Damn that Lina Inverse, stealing my Sword of Light and bringing it to such a barbaric place..."

Yohji blinked and immediately 'forgot' that odd tidbit. He was packed into the back of the car again, and he didn't like it.

This scenario was familiar, too familiar.

With a sigh, Yohji glanced around the car again. He was pressed on all sides with humanity. As was the only possible case in such a situation, everyone kept their eyes averted from everyone else. He faced a row of indifferent backs, a few career women, one or two high school-aged kids playing hooky, salarymen wearing trench coats. Yohji was relieved not to see any fawn-colored ones, or men in navy suits. He stepped back to take the seat the old man had vacated.

"Oof!" Yohji bumped into an immovable body. He turned his head. "Hey, sorry, didn't realize..." The flash of recognition seared through him.

The man from before...it was the same damned pervert!

"It's been awhile," the dark-haired salaryman drawled. Getting a better look at him, Yohji had a moment to appreciate how attractive he was, with his sultry brown eyes and wide-lipped mouth, and his spill of chestnut hair gathered back tightly against the base of his skull. He was wearing a dark maroon suit.

Stupid, how stupid could he be? He'd been looking for a salaryman clad in navy. How could he think the man would be wearing the same thing?

"Yeah," Yohji said, swallowing. He was cornered again. "Didn't expect to see you again." He faced front again, a shiver tracing up his spine. The same dilemma gripped him all over again.

The subway car started up again, rattling down the tracks as it sped away from the station.

"I was hoping to see you again," the words ghosted across Yohji's nape, and a hand touched the small of his back.

Yohji flinched.

All he had to do was speak up and say no. There would be no repercussions, the man would melt away into the crowd, unable to afford pressing the issue in the face of public disgrace. But if Yohji let himself get in deeper than he was willing...well, last time had been a guilty pleasure but he was an adult! He couldn't just go around letting strangers take his body on a subway car!

A finger made its way into the tight crack of Yohji's cargo pants and he shuddered again, brought back the memory of sitting spread and split open on this man's cock while he leaned forward to stretch his lips around the head of another's.

Breath poured warm over his neck, the back of his ear, prickling the short hairs of his nape. "Tell me that you want it, and I'll make it happen."

Yohji groaned, and the sound was snatched from his lips and taken into the belly of the beast.

The salaryman's hand cupped the swell of his buttock and massaged there.

"I want it," Yohji said hoarsely, green eyes wide and wild as he looked around the subway. But not here, please not here...

"Last time was quite a rush" -- the man lipped at his ear, freezing him in place more effectively than anything else -- "but why don't we take this someplace more exclusive?" His hand moved from the rear of Yohji's cargos to the front, touch invasive and intimate all at once as he cupped the jump-started bulge of Yohji's growing desire.

Not the subway, after all. The feeling of relief surprised him, even as part ofhis brain chortled at the realization of what he was acceding to.

"Let's get off at the next stop, then," the dark-haired man murmured, giving him a last enticing squeeze.

Yohji's mouth worked. "Y-yeah..." He swallowed again, throbbing, trying to understand why he was so worked up over this one man, that recent strange encounter. At the salaryman's nudge, he began to ease his way through the crowd. The man behind him muttered a curse and pushed his way forward, seizing Yohji's wrist and dragging him along.

As they neared the double doors, an unexpected sight caused Yohji to freeze. It was a conservative camel-colored suit and a familiar, almost beautiful face framed in short-cropped golden hair with bangs that feathered into exquisite turquoise eyes.

"You," Yohji breathed, as his 'captor' came to a halt and the brunet's wide-lipped mouth quirked into a wicked grin.

"Don't tell me you didn't see this coming," the blond man said, low smooth voice carrying a hint of amusement. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and gave Yohji a sunny smile.

"This is our stop," the brunet added, lips nearly touching Yohji's ear as he leaned forward. For the second time Yohji noticed how tall the man was; as tall as Yohji was this man was nearly half a head taller.

The railway car began to slow.

The golden-haired man looked surprised, rubbing at the short hair at the base of his skull. "Oh, we're disembarking?"

"Yes, I think this one deserves special attention," the dark-haired man said, touching Yohji low on his rear where no one would notice, in the close-packed car.

"Oh!" The blond man opened both eyes and looked energized. "A wonderful idea...this one's so pretty, too..."

"Hey!" Yohji protested, finding his voice. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

The blond looked at him directly then, assessing, almost proprietary. Yohji felt even more like a piece of meat than he had when the man wasn't looking at him.

The subway train ground to a halt, and the doors opened. There was a narrow corridor in the people crowding around and Yohji felt a brief frenetic urge to run grab his guts. If he ran now, then this wouldn't happen.

If he ran now...

The blond went first, giving Yohji a dazzling smile over his shoulder. The fawn-colored trench coat flared around him. Yohji stepped off the train, still feeling claustrophobic with the people closing around waiting for the debarking flow to trickle to a stop.

Then this wouldn't happen...

The brunet gave him a little push in the small of his back, and he stumbled to catch up with the first salaryman. He was in motion, he was caught between the two of them again.

After they left the subway, the blond and the brunet herded him into a cab.

"Hey...hey, be a little more careful with the goods!" Yohji protested as he was pushed into the cab seat roughly after the blond, then wedged between he and the brunet. He felt even more uncomfortable seeing the cab driver's eyes in the rear view mirror. "Oi...I don't even know your names..."

The blond rubbed his head deprecatingly again, giving Yohji that same smiling look. "You can call me Shiro."

Yohji blinked. It must be a pseudonym. "And you...?" he asked, turning in that tight space to glance at the brunet.

"Call me Kuro," the dark-haired man said shortly, fishing around in his pocket.

Yohji blinked again. "Of course," he said sarcastically. "That would follow, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," Shiro said with a smile, creeping towards him on the seat. It made Yohji want to inch away even though there was no room. "Please excuse me!" and he clapped his hands over Yohji's ears.

"H-hey!" Kuro was saying something, but with the hands muffling his ears Yohji missed it. The cab began to move, and Shiro's hands slipped from his ears, left hand tickling his earlobe playfully. "Stop that!"

"Don't be a child," Kuro admonished him. "Shiro acts for your safety as well."

"Uh, okay..." Yohji thought he would pretend he hadn't heard that. That is, until Kuro pulled a length of dark cloth from his pocket and whipped his hands up, tying it around Yohji's eyes securely as Shiro held Yohji by the wrists. Yohji struggled. "Hey...hey, cut it out!"

"I said, don't be a child," Kuro repeated, his deep voice carrying a trace of impatience.

"Come on, this looks weird!" Yohji struggled against the double grip of Shiro and Kuro.

"It may look weird to others, but it's only for a moment," Shiro's low cheerful voice said in his ear. "And like Kuro said, this is for your protection as well as ours."

Mostly for your protection, Yohji thought to himself, smoldering. This wasn't sexy at all. He thought about some particularly nasty things he could do to either man with a length of wire handy. He didn't want to think about how strange this whole set-up looked to the cab driver.

After an interminable length of time, the car slowed and came to a halt.

Handling him expertly, Kuro pulled him from the cab and Shiro came after, making sure Yohji kept moving. They paused on the curb for a moment, presumably long enough for Shiro to pay the driver. Then they began to herd Yohji again.

From the brief quiet, followed by a metallic ping and the noise of machinery, Yohji could tell they were coming in off of the street and moving from a lobby into an elevator. "Hey, can you take this thing off now?" he asked peevishly.

"Ho, Shiro, I don't think our boy likes the blindfold," Kuro's deep voice said, amused and right next to his ear. Yohji started.

"Hmm, seems so," Shiro's lighter voice agreed, right behind him and crowding against his other ear.

"Uh..." Yohji was speechless as both bodies crowded up against him, fore and aft.

"I think we should leave it on a bit longer," Kuro said, then a hot mouth captured his ear, flicking the lobe between his teeth with a clever tongue.

"I agree," Shiro said, and there was a smile in his voice as he breathed a prickling line of air down Yohji's neck, then nuzzled the curve of shoulder and neck. One hand worked at the front of Yohji's cargo pants.

Kuro was grabbing Yohji's rear in both hands, pulling him roughly against the tall salaryman's body. It felt good, unbelievably good, being sandwiched between the two forceful men. After all this time, to give up all control to these nameless gorgeous guys, it was like a release of another sort and that was what made it so arousing.

"Ahh...ahh..." Yohji was getting harder, faster, than he ever had. The blindfold only added to it, making him feel almost helpless between the two men.

The elevator chime dinged again as the lift came to a halt. Reluctantly, the hands caressed him again then left him as they crowded him off the elevator, Shiro working at the blindfold, Kuro taking him by the hand and leading him. Yohji heard the sound of a door unlocking as he was pushed inside and the blindfold was pulled free.

"Amazing..." Yohji exhaled as he stood on the threshold. The loft was spacious and luxurious, an evidence of the kind of money even Yohji, a highly-paid assassin, didn't see in his paychecks. Automatically, he toed his shoes off as Shiro did, and Kuro shut the door behind them and did the same thing.

The loft was indeed amazing. It was wide and high enough to be two levels, definitely a top-floor kind of place. Past the entryway where they left their shoes, the main room spread out with polished wood floors, an entertainment center against the brick far wall, a skylight high above. To the right, a gleaming chrome and white kitchen that looked expensive and up-to-date; to the left, a raised area squared off with low plaster walls. Within the area to the left, there was a huge bed with a black coverlet turned down to reveal black silk sheets. Was there a size larger than 'king?' There was, and Yohji was seeing it now.

"This is serious," Yohji said with an admiring whistle.

"Glad you agree," Kuro's deep voice said silkily in his ear, then the taller man was urging him onwards, one hand cupping his rear, the other undoing his tie. They moved through the immense loft without house slippers and neither man seemed concerned.

Shiro gave him a bright smile and that upped Yohji's level of uneasiness a notch.

Around the corner from the kitchen, there was another area deep-set within the apartment. This area was carpeted, and Yohji's eyes dwelled in amazement on the set-up here.

There was an odd kind of frame, almost looking like a weight machine with its leather bench and straps all over the place. At the far end, metal bars curved up from the leather bench, and heavy cuffs dangled there. That was all his eyes could really take in, although there was other apparel in the alcove. Yohji swallowed hard. That kind of bench meant only one thing, really; it was for a man to be restrained on his belly while his arms were stretched out, rendering him helpless.

"Welcome to the dungeon," Shiro said, sounding entirely too cheerful about it.

"Wait, no, this isn't..." Yohji started, completely weirded out. What had started out as an innocent lark on the subway was becoming entirely too hardcore for him.

"It isn't exactly public sex," Kuro purred in his ear, pinching his ass, "but this kind of scenario is definitely something worth the wait of searching for you these two weeks."

Yohji started. They'd been looking for him?

Shiro's shirt dropped to the floor. His turquoise eyes were sultry as he looked Yohji up and down, saying, "It's past time...let's get him warmed up, Kuro."

Warmed up?

Yohji's eyes were wide to the point of being comic. He tried to turn and found a man at either elbow, their smiles matching in predatory lust.

"We'll understand if you want to run away, now," Kuro was saying, fingers brushing over the crack of Yohji's rear over and over, a maddening sensation.

Shiro smiled as he said, "This is why we took so many precautions...and it's up to you." His hand dropped to the front of Yohji's cargos, massaging his burgeoning hardness there. He whispered into Yohji's ear, "This is your last chance to say 'stop.' But we'd really like you to stay."

Yohji's eyes were fixed on the frame in their 'dungeon,' and he couldn't look away as both of the men worked him skillfully with their hands, getting him hotter and hotter. The need that was blossoming in the pit of his belly had the greatest sexual potential he'd ever felt. He was anxious, no, a little scared, but he didn't want to let this go.

Besides, Kudou Yohji didn't 'run.'

"I'll stay," he said huskily, and swallowed. The apprehension was a great lump in his throat.

"Don't worry," Shiro said in his ear, the puff of air distracting and somehow arousing. "Kuro's very skilled. He won't let us give you more than you can handle."

"Ahh--" Yohji had no more time for hesitation as both men maneuvered him with that same skill towards the bench this time. They stood beside it, Yohji in the middle as Shiro stripped the silky shirt off over Yohji's head, rubbing his belly teasingly as he held Yohji's upper body and arms trapped within the shirt. The blond man exclaimed laughingly as Yohji's cock jerked in its confines.

Kuro was unzipping him with those clever fingers that had done just this before. He stripped the cargo pants down Yohji's thighs, pausing for a moment with a catch in his breath as he rubbed his considerable hardness against the swells of Yohji's rear. Kuro's hand worked him, making Yohji pant against Shiro's bright hair as the blond dropped his shirt to the side and tweaked his nipples.

"This is so much more fun than banging you on the subway, isn't it?" Shiro asked impishly, then took Yohji's mouth with his own. Yohji couldn't even nod in agreement, opening his mouth readily under Shiro's pressure, submitting to the tongue that plunged deep in his mouth, brushing against his. Kuro gave him a few more leisurely pulls, rubbing over the head of Yohji's weeping cock-tip with his broad thumb, then stripped the silky briefs laboriously off of his aching hard-on.

"Silk everywhere...you're a luxurious kind of guy," Kuro told him, tugging his cargos off one leg, then the other as Shiro grabbed his ass in both hands and slanted the kiss deeper, more demanding. "That's it, Shiro. He's ready."

"I'll say," Shiro said admiringly, releasing his mouth with reluctance. His beautiful eyes were limpid at this bare distance between them. He gave a pat to Yohji's ass then stood back.

Kuro and Shiro were still half-dressed and Yohji felt the woeful disadvantage as they stared at him hungrily a moment longer. Then Kuro was turning him with firm hands and Yohji faced the leather and metal contraption, at a loss.

"Lie down on the bench," Kuro instructed him.

This was it. Yohji knew if he complied to this command, he was giving consent to whatever these two men wanted to do to him. Kuro had told him before that he could run and this was truly the last chance. Yohji felt the fear collect again in the pit of his stomach. The bench was a short one, but long enough for him to lie with his torso flat and his ass up in the air. And there was an odd oval-shaped hole near the end towards him -- Yohji felt flushed, realizing that space was for his dick.

"Come on," Shiro said encouragingly. "The first submission is the hardest part."

Yohji felt sweat beading along his hairline. It was true. This was so difficult. Beyond the undeniable fact of their first encounter, if he agreed to this he was placing himself entirely in their hands.

"Get down on the bench," Kuro repeated, voice steely.

There was a bit of amazement in him as Yohji obeyed, approaching the bench close enough for his thighs to brush the edge. The leather felt cool against his legs. Awkwardly, he bent over it, bracing himself with both hands at first. As he laid down on the bench he adjusted himself, lowering down and his hard cock slipped through the oversized hole. Yohji's cheeks were burning as he settled his torso on the leather. His chin rested on a slightly raised ridge of leather that seemed curved to support his jaw.

"Good boy," Kuro said, dark voice tinged with amusement. "Shiro..."

In concert they moved towards his head, one on each side, stretching his arms out along the metal bars that branched out from the main bench. The tops of the arms were padded with more leather where his arms rested on them, and Yohji felt the first moment of frantic helplessness as the two men buckled his wrists, keeping his arms out at extreme length, making adjustments to the bench's set-up to do so. He thrashed for a moment as they buckled his wrists snug and tight.

"Easy," Kuro's voice told him, the man moving out of his peripheral vision but laying a steadying hand on his back.

"We're going to make you feel so good," Shiro's voice said happily, sounding far too innocent for the kind of games he undoubtedly indulged in regularly.

"Ahh...haa..." Yohji was already panting lightly and they hadn't even gotten very far. Shiro's fingers combed through his hair as Kuro buckled Yohji's ankle straps, securing him in place. His body was stretched out and he couldn't even move very much. He tried lifting his torso up and made it by a centimeter, maybe a little more.

"Stop that," Kuro said sharply, smacking his flank. Yohji stilled, eyes rolling. What did they have in mind? Probably not the quick bang they'd indulged in on the subway.

"Shall I secure him with the torso strap?" Shiro asked calmly.

"No, only if he misbehaves." There was something dark again in Kuro's silky voice as he stroked Yohji's rear. Even though he knew it was mostly his imagination, Yohji felt like his bottom was lifted up and displayed prominently.

"Wh-what are you going to--"

"Hush," Shiro told him, still stroking his hair. The unzipping sound came from behind him, and was probably Kuro taking his pants off. Shiro's voice was contrastingly gentle when he continued, "I hate it when we have to gag our tricks..."

Yohji's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. He'd hate that too.

"Now, let's get you warmed up," Kuro said with an air of satisfaction. Shiro moved off to the side, and there was the sound of a cabinet opening. At his peripheral vision, Yohji could see Shiro shrugging his pants off, swaying gracefully from side to side and stepping out of them. So it was Kuro who touched his rear next, stroking one cheek, one finger dipping briefly in the valley, then fondling the other.

The sharp crack against his naked buttocks was a shock.

Yohji cried out, the sting of the cane outdone only by his furious sense of betrayal. What the hell was this kind of kink? He'd never been spanked in his life! He struggled against the heavy cuffs, mind rebelling against the very thought that he'd chosen to be restrained like this. He'd given up his will.

"Ohh, Kuro, I don't think he likes your cane!" Shiro laughed, kicking his pants off to the side.

"He'll like it better when he's feeling warm," Kuro replied, and then the second blow fell.

Yohji's face felt purple with wrath and he continued to struggle as Kuro switched him, landing painful stripes up and down his buttocks, each crack of the cane feeling like it stung more than the last. He did not cry out after the first time, however, mindful of Kuro's earlier threat of gagging him.

True to Kuro's word, his ass began to feel unbearably warm in between strokes. Then the cane paused and Shiro moved behind him, touching his rear with tentative fingers, then rubbing the moist fleshy warmth of a hard cock there. "You do such good work," Shiro praised, admiring. "It's such a nice uniform color..."

"Well, I take pride in it," Kuro replied, and a hand stroked down Yohji's burning flank.

Yohji was surprised to find himself unbearably hard and dripping, a fact he discovered when Shiro reached between his legs to tug on him.

"Had enough?" Kuro said with a laugh, giving him another smack high on his ass.

Yohji panted, unsure if he should answer or not.

"Good boy," Kuro said with another laugh, when Yohji remained silent. He tapped the cane thoughtfully across Yohji's hot buttocks.

"I think it's good for a warm-up," Shiro suggested, and a hand was stroking his rear again, fondling him in the crack, one finger tickling the sensitive spot just behind his exposed balls. "Besides, I'm ready for that talented mouth of his."

Yohji tried to move back against that hand, feeling the disadvantage of the bench's set-up. It was arranged so that there was no friction for his aching cock. Shiro and Kuro laughed, a low blend of harmony, then Shiro was moving around to his head, trailing a hand along Yohji's naked back along the way.

Shiro's hands were on his face now, and Yohji looked up the length of that sculpted pale torso, like some Western god's. It was fitting that he used the name 'Shiro,' with his pale flawless skin. Apart from a light dusting of golden hairs at the base of that straining organ, Shiro's body was hairless and altogether breathtaking. Tilting his head as much as he was able, Yohji could see the almost-pretty face of the blond salaryman, smiling, turquoise eyes on him.

"Now open your mouth," Shiro said encouragingly. "Really, it should already be open."

Yohji felt the pressure of the bench against his jaw as he obeyed. From this angle it would be difficult; with his arms bound to either side of him, all of the strain of supporting himself was on his chest and abdomen. Even with the chin rest, it would be difficult to cope.

Shiro didn't seem to care as he gave a quick stroke down his engorged length, then pushed into Yohji's mouth, one hand grasping at Yohji's hair. The blond pumped into his mouth with shallow strokes, making throaty appreciative noises as Yohji sucked at his hard-on.

As he became accustomed to the cock taking his mouth deeper bit by bit, Yohji heard the distinct sound of a cap popping open. He didn't even have an instant to tense as Kuro's thumb pried one cheek away from the other and a cold creamy substance drizzled down Yohji's crack.

The noise of protest was muffled by Shiro's cock, tickling the back of his throat, almost too much. Yohji closed his watering eyes and tried to relax, willing his throat open. He was too aware of what was going on 'back there,' and the bonds that made this more difficult than usual.

"Calm down, you've taken this before," Kuro told him, then a moist finger rubbed his most sensitive parts, tracing around almost teasingly before slipping inside. Kuro plunged the digit in and out, finger-fucking him, adding more lube before repeating it with two.

Yohji was helpless again, taking on more and more of Shiro's cock until it was buried in the heat of his mouth and Yohji's nose pressed against Shiro's pubic bone. His eyes were watering and somehow, he was enjoying this. He was proud he could open himself up this much.

"Ahh...you're even better than last time," Shiro sighed, both hands threading through Yohji's hair in a loose caress. He began to thrust, the motion shallow and the rhythm of it going straight to Yohji's groin, making him harder than ever.

"You're a beautiful sight, both of you," Kuro told them, and Yohji could feel his hardness pressed between the curves of his ass, held ready there.

"Do him," Shiro said, voice languorous, almost dreamy as he pumped slowly into Yohji's mouth.

Questing, pushing, the hardness invaded him, parting the globes of his ass as Kuro moved slowly but surely into him. Yohji nearly choked, caught by surprise at the feel of Kuro's cock sliding into him and his body's resistance. Shiro backed off of him, perhaps sensing this, fingers combing soothingly through his hair.

The feel of the cock pushing into him was electric. Yohji barely felt the pain, warmed up as he'd been with the cane, concentrated for the moment on Shiro in his mouth. Kuro's thick erection was bigger than he remembered, splitting him open in the way he recalled and pressing up against all the right places.

"I'm halfway in," Kuro told them, and Yohji breathed harshly. Shiro stroked his cheek, untangling one hand to jack himself slowly, then rub his tip against Yohji's panting mouth.

The brunet squeezed out more lube, rubbing it around Yohji's aching hole before plunging deeper and seizing Yohji's waist in both hands. Then Kuro attacked again, sinking his brutal erection into Yohji's already-sore ass.

Shiro muttered something probably intended to be soothing as Yohji cried out, straining against his bonds again as Kuro stretched him wide and fucked him deep. The blond's thumb traced over his lips, then his cock-tip followed the same path, then Shiro was pushing between his lips again as Kuro came to an ultimate depth, balls-deep in Yohji's abused rear.

Rocking back to meet the first of Kuro's powerful thrusts, Yohji felt restless and unsatisfied in his bonds. Tied up, his own hard cock provided with no surface to rub against, he was almost frantic as he gyrated between two extremes, Kuro ramming into him from behind, Shiro making use of his mouth. He wanted it more, and harder, and they gave it to him roughly.

"Can't...last much longer," Shiro panted, as Yohji deep-throated him with every ounce of skill he possessed.

"Come," Kuro commanded him, pace slowing, then he pumped hectically fast, heading for the obvious conclusion.

Wait...no... Yohji's watering eyes opened. He wasn't anywhere near completion, hard as he was!

Shiro pulled out of his mouth completely, like the last time, but now he held the spasming head of his cock near Yohji's mouth and groaned, other hand tightening in Yohji's hair. The pale man began to come, spurting over Yohji's face and lips, rubbing his cock rapturously over Yohji's slack mouth.

"That's good," Kuro said, sounding breathless. "Really good...ahh..." The dark-haired man's exclamation turned into a drawn-out moan and he ground his hard cock into Yohji in a series of harsh short thrusts, finishing with spasmodic slow jerks of his hips at the deepest point.

Yohji groaned too, hanging helpless in his restraints as Kuro got off and Shiro stroked his face, smiling with satisfaction.

Then Kuro pulled out, patting his flaming rump.

"H-Hey!" Yohji protested, humping up the centimeter or two he was able to, hotter and harder than ever and still unrelieved. They'd taken him here...they'd done things to him no one else had...and now they would leave him unsatisfied!?

"Hey!" Yohji repeated more stridently. "Damn you, both of you, I didn't--"

"Shiro," Kuro said, voice thick with sex.

"Right," Shiro agreed, to what Yohji had no idea, until the blond pressed him flat to the bench with one hand, doing so easily with Yohji's trembling restrained body, then buckled yet another strap around him. The torso strap kept him taut against the leather bench no matter how much he struggled.

"Dammit!" Yohji redoubled his efforts, even though he knew he'd never get free. These bonds were professional. "You bastards! You--"

"I warned you," Shiro said, sounding genuinely regretful. Another cabinet opened and closed, and the blond returned with a plastic sphere that looked like a large ball bearing or jawbreaker.

Yohji's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"Too late," Kuro said roughly. "Now open your mouth before I open it for you."

At the tone of command, once again Yohji obeyed before quite realizing it. Shiro slipped the plastic into his mouth, then brought up a heavy strip of silk and tied it around his head, securing the gag so that it didn't catch any of his hair. Shiro was quick and professional about it, as if he'd done this before. Which, of course, he probably had.

"Now," Kuro continued, rubbing Yohji's aching rear, one finger slipping down to tease at his entrance, "for your punishment."

Yohji's eyes rolled wildly. Punishment? But he thought that had been the punishment -- that, and not letting him come.

"Shiro, which one should we use?" That tone of dark humor had entered the brunet's tone. Somewhere behind him, another cabinet opened and closed. Yohji tried to relax in his restraints but he was still hard and, right now, untouched.

"Ohh...this one is my favorite, hands down," Shiro said, sounding entirely too eager for Yohji's peace of mind.

"Then we'll use this one." Somehow Kuro's tone didn't put him at ease any. The mysterious sounds behind him continued. The tube was uncapped again, and the liquid noises increased Yohji's apprehension. It was too soon for Kuro to be lubing himself up again; the man was incredible but no one had that kind of stamina. Then the buzzing noise started.

"Mmph!" Yohji started, but even struggling wouldn't help when he was spread out and bound so thoroughly.

"Go ahead, Shiro," Kuro said politely.

The buzzing noise approached. Yohji went limp, ceasing his struggles. "Calm down," Shiro told him, voice chiding. "It’s just a butt-plug. Or maybe you've never had one of these before?"

"I think he's never had any of this before," Kuro's darkly amused voice said.

The buzzing equipment touched his rear and Yohji flinched. The vibrating butt-plug drove down between Yohji's cheeks, and Shiro rubbed its moist tip thoroughly around Yohji's already-stretched hole. Yohji breathed heavily through his nose, torn between the indignity and trying to pull away, and giving in to his needs and pushing back towards the stimulation, any stimulation.

"Ah, ah," Kuro said chidingly, "Keep your hand away from him, Shiro. He's hard enough."

"Sorry," Shiro replied, unabashed. "I feel sorry for him...we're giving him such a hard time!" They both laughed.

Yohji was unprepared when the tip of the butt-plug plunged into him without warning. It wasn't as long as Kuro's immense tool, but it was wider and it parted him almost painfully as Shiro pushed it all the way in. Then there was the momentary relief as Yohji's hole contracted around the stem, sucking the piece of equipment inside and keeping it there.

He groaned again, tears smarting at the corners of his eyes. Shiro thrust it idly back and forth, then settled it inside of him and cranked the knob. The butt-plug vibrated even more furiously, making Yohji's innards turn to jelly. He was shaking with unfulfilled sexual tension.

"Good," Kuro purred, and then he was reaching below the bench.

Yohji moaned, encouraging, trying to rub against something, anything. He was shocked when Kuro gripped him down there, slipping something down over his cock, settling it against the base, and cinching it there. You're fucking KIDDING me! Tears streamed down his face now as he shook his head from side to side.

"This is your punishment," Kuro told Yohji as he stared blankly at the brick wall of the dungeon alcove. "Now you can't come until we let you."

"No matter how hot the plug gets you!" Shiro added cheerfully.

"Now we'll leave him here for a bit while we recharge," Kuro said casually. From the sound of it he was zipping his pants.

"Aa, I'm starved," Shiro agreed.

Yohji made loud outraged noises as their footsteps faded in the distance, and other noises started in the kitchen. His outraged sounds changed soon to pleading, desperate ones as the butt-plug vibrated deep in him, and he was unable to do so much as hump against the bench or come no matter how hard the vibrator got him. He moaned, throbbing harder than he'd ever been or dreamed possible.

How had he gotten himself into this?

Damn you, Kuro, Yohji thought, furious, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. What makes you qualified to judge what I can handle?

The kitchen noises continued, painful tease and counterpoint to his aching unfulfilled state. Disconnected, Yohji thought of the errand he'd been running across the city. The plug buzzed in his rear and he squirmed, the movement pointless. He wouldn't be going anywhere after this morning...or was it afternoon already?

He should have suspected from the start. What kind of salaryman rode the subway in the middle of the day? Unless they had the day off, or took an unusually long lunch break...okay, so it was useless to speculate. He moaned again, feeling sweat trickle down the side of his face. He was so hard, and the plug vibrating inside him was enough to make him explode with nothing more than that. The floodgates of his climax were pent up inside of him, though, and only Kuro could unloose it.

"Kuro," Shiro's voice said, laughing, from far away. "We shouldn't make him wait too long. It's cruel.

"You should know, I've done the same to you before," Kuro rejoined with a laugh. "I thought you wanted to eat, Shiro."

Yohji stared at the brick wall in front of him and stifled another groan. He was trying to lift his hips back, vainly he knew, but he couldn't help it. The vibrating plug made him feel, almost, as if he could come with just a little bit more...and so every fiber of his body stretched back into that stimulation. He was willing to do just about anything to get off.

With a slight wince, he took that thought back. 'Anything' with someone like Kuro covered too much ground.

"I'm hungry...but we can eat after," Shiro said, his cheerful voice turning sultry.

"How about a quick shower, then?" Kuro suggested. Shiro laughed in reply.

Yohji closed his eyes in misery. They didn't intend on letting him get off any time soon. He humped back desperately again, but his swinging stiff cock encountered nothing, not even the bench. The damned piece of equipment had been designed too well. He could still move barely a centimeter and none of it was satisfying.

The kitchen noises stopped, and, even more distantly, the sound of a shower started up.

"Nng..." Yohji's hips inscribed rhythmic, fruitless circles, still trying to push back against nothing. They would come back. Sooner or later, they would have to come back.

Right?

When Kuro and Shiro approached him nearly fifteen minutes later, Yohji was a quivering mass of nerve-endings, each synapse leaping towards completion. He heard the two men getting close and began to move vigorously again, thrusting his ass back in a desperate plea. Take it, take it out, take me...

"Ohh, Kuro, look how desperate he is!"

Yohji barely registered the words, straining back with every millimeter he could gain. The butt-plug continued its vicious buzz, the sound of it blending into the frenzy churning inside of him.

A hand caressed his rear and Yohji went wild, thrashing this time not in protest, not to get away, but to reach the body behind him. Shiro laughed and the hand was snatched away.

"Now, Kuro?" Shiro said breathlessly.

There was a hand on him again, and somehow Yohji knew it was Kuro's. He had a moment of keen insight, odd as it was with sweat dripping from his brow and his mouth gagged, and a good thing or he'd be begging for sex, for relief, for Kuro to ram him to oblivion and back. Though Kuro was the dominant one, the one who could supposedly judge how much Yohji could take, it was really Shiro who was looking out for him.

Kuro pushed the plug deeper inside of him, making Yohji squirm and wriggle as both men chuckled. He was sure his face was red with humiliation again. Kuro plunged the buzzing piece of equipment back and forth, murmuring something soothing that his ears didn't even register. Yohji was beyond words.

"Good boy..." Kuro began to work the plug free. Yohji groaned until at last the furiously vibrating thing popped out of him. He was breathing heavily through his nose again, tossing his head this way and that. Shiro touched him then, trailing a hand down his back, pausing at the strap, then caressing down to his rear and teasing Yohji some more. "Very good!"

"I suppose we've made him wait long enough," Shiro sighed. "Kuro, what do you think?"

Yohji made a muffled pleading noise, as emotive of desperation as he was able with his mouth gagged. Kuro's slick fingers penetrated him then and he groaned again, lifting back eagerly as much as he was able into the sensation. Flesh was what he wanted.

Briefly, all too briefly, those fingers pumped within him and withdrew. Flesh was what he wouldn't get.

Shiro's laugh was teasing as Yohji made another desperate plea, both straining back and moaning. "This one," the blond said breathlessly. "It's not as wide but it's longer."

Hunh? There wasn't time for surprise as he was split open wide again, pushed forward by the force of Kuro's thrust. He didn't realize for a moment, rocking back to meet it, so grateful for the return of sensation, of fucking. Flesh was what he wanted, and flesh wasn't what he got.

"You like that?" Kuro murmured. "It's one of Shiro's favorites."

Yohji replied muffled, incoherent, thought scattered to all directions. It was a dildo but at this point he didn't care, pushing back into it, existing only in that moment for thrust, for taking it, frantic for it. Kuro was chuckling that warm chuckle and his groin was molten-hot and maddening. Please, please, please...

Shiro's fingers combed through his hair again. Yohji jerked, groaning as someone undid the torso strap and he was able to lift back into the serious pounding that he really wanted. Kuro laughed again and indulged him. After the torso strap was gone, Shiro stopped stroking his hair.

"Ready?" Shiro asked him.

Barely sensate, Yohji nodded, focused almost one hundred percent on the feel of the dildo taking him, stabbing his prostate again and again. That was when the final constraint was unleashed, and the climax hit with the sudden shock of a thunderstorm, taking him by surprise.

"Come on," Kuro said with a laugh, forcing the dildo in and in. "Go ahead, you've earned it."

Yohji groaned, convulsing, helpless, the orgasm hitting him hard. Shiro was undoing his gag now. He felt Kuro's hand on his cock, stroking it from him, rendering him powerless as it spun out of him, faster and faster and it hurt, spattering on the mats below the bench, yelling as the ball gag came loose. He shouted himself hoarse as he took the last several strokes and Kuro's hand was joined by Shiro's and they fondled him in the last painful mind-melting instants.

If he could have hung his head, he would have. Yohji rested on the bench, panting, still shuddering with the last of it as Kuro withdrew the dildo.

"That was good," Shiro said admiringly. He patted Yohji's flank, then rubbed more lingeringly. Yohji felt completely limp, unable to respond to it.

"All right, let's unstrap him." Kuro sounded satisfied, no, smug.

He crumpled into Kuro's arms as Shiro unstrapped him and helped him to stand. The shock of climax had left him weak in the knees.

Kuro laughed. "Better than you expected?"

"Bastard," Yohji said hoarsely, and looked at the dark-haired man with wary expectation.

Kuro widened his eyes, still chuckling a little. "Don't worry, I don't do that sort of thing after the scene is over."

"Now we'll clean you up," Shiro said, leaning into him and brushing his lips across Yohji's ear sweetly.

"Ahh..." Yohji sagged in true relief. "That sounds good."

They led him off to the side, a bathroom tucked away beside the open bedroom and its huge black-sheeted bed. Yohji glanced curiously at it. It was definitely large enough for an orgy, and these were the kind of men who did that sort of thing. Much as Yohji liked to brag about his love-annals, he'd never had more than one person at a time until these two men.

The bathroom shower was large enough for five, too, which proved again how much money went into this apartment - a typical shower stall was large enough for one. The glass-walled shower was an exotic change for him from a lone shower and crowded elbows. Kuro and Shiro soaped him up and supported him as his knees sagged again.

"Thanks, that was intense..." he mumbled as they shut the shower and dried him off with the largest towel he'd ever seen.

"Oh..." Shiro smiled at him disarmingly. "You don't think we're done, do you?"

Yohji blinked. "You came, I came..." He fitted his index fingers together, skin prickling as Kuro rubbed his back and shoulders dry with a firm touch. "We're done!"

"Oh, no we're not," Kuro drawled. They led him back into the bedroom area, but they were moving him past it and towards the dungeon again.

"Oh, no." Yohji shook his head, wet hair clinging damply to his cheek. "What could you possibly..."

Shiro laughed now, and the sound wasn't condescending, only amused. "You'll see. You'll enjoy this so much."

From a black lacquered chest, Kuro pulled free some kind of black harness with leather straps and rings, and a length of chain.

Yohji's eyes widened. "Oh, HELL no!" He was kept in place by Shiro's arm encircling him, which squeezed him gently as he fidgeted.

"Relax," Shiro said soothingly. His smile was innocent and boyish and so completely at odds with the man who had slapped a cock across his face. "It's not as kinky as it looks. It's a harness."

"Right," Kuro seconded, dragging out a footstool from behind the chest. In just loose black pants, chest bare, Kuro was both imposing and darkly handsome. He was well-muscled. His hair, loosed from the tight tie that had held it away from his face, was a spill of curls that framed his strong face and jaw.

Kuro lifted up the harness and now Yohji could see what he was after. There were rings in the ceiling, from which the harness could be suspended. Kuro, tall as he was, had to stretch to reach the rings, and he clipped the harness up in four places.

"It's a swing," Yohji said blankly, looking at the thing as it took shape.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" Shiro enthused. "We haven't played with the harness in so long!"

It wasn't like a normal swing, of course. This would strap around someone's thighs and waist to support him, leaving access to everything. Yohji stared as Kuro continued to make adjustments. It was obvious the swing was meant to dangle at just the right height to give either man access to his ass as they stood.

"Oh, Kuro, look! He's blushing!"

Yohji turned his head away, embarrassed. He hadn't blushed since he was a kid, but the things these two men did behind closed doors far outstripped the power of a public assignation on the subway. He felt like he was still green and learning.

"You're going to enjoy this," Kuro assured him, humor in his voice as he finished tightening and testing straps, then dragged the footstool to a new position at the head of the swing.

Yohji regarded it dumbly for a moment, unsure of his response. He still had the power to say no, until they had him in the straps. Shiro had assured him that Kuro was capable of judging what he could take. It still wasn't much reassurance, but for some reason he did feel safe. In that first 'scene' they had sized him up perfectly, what he could take and couldn't endure, and he'd come harder than he could recall.

He stepped forward. Kuro's lips curled up. Yohji was already feeling hot, hard, incredibly so considering it had been such a short time. The taller, dark-haired man was definitely tenting in his loose pants. This anticipation was pressing around all of them, and Yohji wasn't even sure what to expect.

Before Kuro stood him on the footstool, Shiro's hand on his arm made him pause. For the second time, the cheerful-looking blond tied a blindfold over his eyes, but this time Yohji didn't resist.

He had submitted. He was already in the scene.

With Kuro and Shiro's help, he climbed onto the footstool. Shiro steadied him while Kuro strapped him in, making sure the straps were snug around his thighs, knees, and waist. Once he gave up control it wasn't so hard. Then, to make things frustrating once more, there was an extra cord that kept his hands held above his head.

"Lean back," Kuro's voice brushed his ear like velvet.

Yohji did. He fell...

And the swing took up the slack, supporting him. He was suspended mid-air, swinging faintly back and forth in the cradling support of the leather. He felt the burn of leather tightening across his thighs, and the knee-straps kept his legs up and spread open to each side. Yohji felt flushed again, exposed like this and suspended in the air, the blindfold stripping away even more.

"I don't think we need to prepare him much," Kuro's voice said.

A hand glided up his thigh, caressing over his balls, taking hold of his hardening shaft and stroking him up and down. The practiced hand thumbed at the head of Yohji's cock, jacked him for a few more beats, then left with a teasing linger.

Yohji turned his head blindly as another hand touched him, the caress of a person making the circuit of his body from front to back. At the same time hands stroked his thighs in front, getting near to the juncture of his thighs but not close enough. Nails raked lightly over his skin.

Without further ado, hands gripped his hips from behind and a cockhead nudged his buttocks. Yohji groaned encouragement, hardly believing the wanton sound that came from his own lips. Kuro sank into him, already slick. From the front, Shiro was tugging at his cock. Sandwiched between the two men, rocking back and forth with the pull of the swing and Kuro's thrusts, Yohji was in ecstacy.

"Kuro, damn you, you're too tall," Shiro said, laughing. His hands stroked Yohji again and again and he thought he would come right then from the touch and the feel of Kuro's flesh penetrating him again, pressing inside to brush deep against his pleasure-centers.

"Then use the footstool," Kuro replied with a grunt. His cock dug into Yohji as his hips inscribed shorter and shorter circles.

There was a rattle as the footstool was moved again. Yohji ignored it, pulled by Kuro's hands and the motion of the swing and enjoying each repeated inch of penetration. Then hands were on his waist, a slim body leaning into him the way Kuro pressed against him from the back, and he felt the most peculiar sensation. A second slicked-up cockhead was nudging him behind the balls. A second set of hands grabbed his thighs and pulled him forward as Kuro paused.

"Oh, hell no!" Yohji exclaimed, lurching back and succeeding only in impaling himself more thoroughly on Kuro's hard erection.

"Haven't you ever tried it?" Shiro's light and cheerful voice asked.

"Look, what we did earlier is as close to having two men as I want to get," Yohji replied, struggling in the swing and gaining nothing as he was ground between two hard bodies. Kuro made a feral noise in his ear and gripped his hips tight enough to bruise.

"Calm down," Kuro's dark voice told him. "Relax and enjoy this. Trust me, you're going to enjoy it."

Yohji quieted, feeling distrustful as he hung suspended between the two, anchored only by the chains and leather straps hooked to the rings on the ceiling. After a panting harsh moment of stillness, he felt a hand worm beneath him, and Shiro's cockhead pressed further back, sliding against the place where Kuro was buried within him.

"No..." It was a bare whimper, a thread of sound. He clamped his teeth down over his lip, panting through his nose. He was blind and focused completely on the feel of Shiro feeding his cock into a tight already-stretched hole. Behind him, Kuro's breath hissed in his ear as the larger man held still while his partner joined him. Yohji whimpered again.

"Almost...done..." Shiro sounded strained.

It hurt. It did hurt, even though Kuro was holding still and Shiro was pushing inside of him with slow inevitable caution. Yohji breathed, panted, tried to relax.

Yohji felt filled-up to capacity, split wider than was possible, the sensation of two cocks questing within him exquisite and unbearable. Shiro was slipping deeper within him, hands firm on his thighs, until he too was buried as deep as he could make it with the awkward angle. Yohji moaned as his aching penis brushed against Shiro's stomach.

"Ohh...god...I'm gonna split," he warned, head lolling.

"Didn't I tell you to relax?" Kuro whispered, and began to move again. On the other side of him, Shiro mirrored the thrust, a shallow withdrawal and infinitesimal inclination of the hips to fill him up again. The two cocks took him deep and wide, working in tandem.

Yohji was almost sobbing, blindfolded head thrown back, arms pinioned above his head, the two men pounding hard into him from either side. He knew he couldn't last much longer. What they'd done to him earlier had melted down any ability for stamina. With each stroke his flagrant erection bobbed against Shiro's moving stomach.

Shiro cried out hoarsely, moving faster and breaking their triple rhythm, the agony acute as a throbbing heartbeat gone awry, but somehow wildly exciting. The man in front of him grabbed Yohji's shoulders and cut loose a shuddering cry, hips jerking in the onset of his climax. Yohji cried out, too, partly in pain and partly in excitement. He felt Shiro's seed spilling inside of him and it was like a dam tearing free inside of him, allowing him to come again. With a hoarse shout he jutted his hips and came, seeing white against the dark field of the blindfold, everything dissolving into that perfect haze. As Shiro withdrew and he clamped down tight around Kuro's width, the tall man behind him seized the rings to either side of his waist-strap and began fucking him roughly, back and forth, fluid gushing between them, Yohji's ass slapping back and down against Kuro's pubic bone with each circuit.

"Come harder...come harder," Kuro urged, and somehow it was happening, Yohji was still unspooling, the tight stretched thread of anticipation within him finally broken and unraveling forever. He was limp and pliant in the double embrace, still coming and spasming and making desperate little noises as Shiro reached down to finish him off by hand.

Kuro went still and his cock jerked and twitched inside, spreading more come within him. Yohji barely felt it, leaning back, letting the swing and the two men support him, feeling utterly drained but so satisfied.

When Kuro pulled out he gasped in relief.

"So...good..." For the second time he crumpled like a string-cut puppet, this time into Shiro's arms as Kuro undid the straps holding him into the swing.

"Yes, you were very good," Kuro concurred, smoothing a hand over his hair. He untied the blindfold and Yohji blinked through messy hair, green eyes dulling with fatigue. "Now we're going to let you rest. We'll clean you up."

He tried to assist, but the two men ended up mostly-carrying him to the wide black bed on the other side of the apartment. They laid him down on it, and he slept.

Some time later, Yohji's eyes drifted open. To either side of him adrift on a sea of black sheets there was a naked male body, inclined towards him. Yohji opened and closed his thighs, wincing as he felt a slight seep of fluid. Other than that lingering reminder he felt clean and refreshed. He moved again, experimentally, and to one side of him Shiro's eyes opened.

"Awake?" Shiro asked softly, eyes crinkling in a smile.

"Mmm," Yohji answered noncommittally.

"I think we've kept you long enough, haven't we?" That was Kuro's voice on the other side of him, dark smooth honey.

"Well...I did miss my appointment again," Yohji said, a faint grin creeping across his features. "At this rate I'm never going to get my car back!"

Shiro began to laugh and Kuro slid an arm around him, folding Yohji in between the two bodies again.

"Now, why on earth would you need that?" the dark-haired man purred in his ear.

Shiro's smile was disarming as ever. "When we've shown you the benefits of public transport, after all..."

Yohji laughed and relaxed, spooned between them. "What's next, the joys of pedestrian sex?"

"If that's a challenge..."

"Umm..."

+end+