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silverfoxflowerTitle: The Last Temptation of Kyosuke Kawachi
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silverfoxflower
Fandom: Yakitate!! Japan
Genre: Crack/Humor, Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~2200
Pairing: Kawachi/Azuma
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Underage sex (character is 17 but acts younger), a whole lot of ageplay
Notes: Written for 'Plushies/Furries' for the kink bingo. See my card here.
Summary: Kawachi thinks Azuma's too young for sex. Azuma and Mr. Bear seduce him.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Please be no with the suing.
It was hard to forget how young Azuma was.
Even though he had celebrated his seventeenth birthday just last week, there were still times when Kawachi felt like nothing but a creep for touching his thin shoulders, his tender mouth, his limbs quivering like a jackrabbit willing itself to stillness. The little bread-genius was a baker and craftsman respected world-wide for his work. Still, in almost all other areas, he was still impossibly inexperienced.
“You’re always overdramatic, Kawachi,” Tsukino scolded him. “You’ve got, what, all of three years on him?”
“I’m not being overdramatic!” Kawachi put down his hands before he could make any sweeping gestures. “Have you seen the kid’s eyes? Every time I kiss him I feel as I should be offering him candy out of the back of my van.”
“Well he’s grown-up enough to whine to me daily about how ‘Kawachi thinks still I’m a kid’, and ‘Why won’t he give me anal sex?’”
“What was that?” Kawachi sputtered, “Nevermind. I … I don’t want to talk about it!” He turned back, viciously pounding the dough in front of him into submission.
Tsukino sighed, smoothing her lacy skirt over her knees. “I’m just trying to help, Kawachi. I mean, I know for a fact that Kai would like nothing more than to pounce on poor Azuma like a hungry wildebeest-“
“Wildebeest are herbivores, Tsukino.”
“-and Kanmuri already molests him almost daily. Don’t even let me get started on Kuroyanagi.” Tsukino flipped her hair and sighed again, louder. “Don’t you remember when you were a seventeen-year-old boy? Mark my words, if you don’t satisfy Azuma, he’s gonna roll over and wave his cute little butt around like a savannah lioness in heat.”
Kawachi sputtered. “What is with the African wildlife metaphors? And more importantly, where did you even get the idea-“
“Yaoi.”
“Don’t you have something to do … like sell bread or be eye candy or something?” Kawachi ground out.
Tsukino’s eyes narrowed, a sure sign that her maidenly patience was being sorely tested. “I’m serious, Kawachi, Azuma deserves at least three quarters of a goal.”
“Three quarters of what?” Kawachi turned, only to find himself staring into his own reflection, mirrored in the Manager’s dark aviators.
“I believe she meant ‘third base’. As in the American game of baseball where runners begin batting at home plate, running to first, second, third and finally back home again to score a point. In this case it is slang for-“
Kawachi groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re part of this, too.”
Manager snorted. “I’m here to tell you to get back to work, pedo.”
At that moment, Azuma walked in, arms full of flour, eggs, and less common ingredients. To Kawachi he looked so innocent – cheeks flushed from the cold, hair escaping his brightly colored headband and falling across his eyes, baby-pink lips pursed in concentration as he set down first one bag, then the other on the counter.
No matter what anyone else said, Azuma was just too young. One whiff of the perverted things running through Kawachi’s brain and he’d run crying. To the police. After all, this was the kid who asked him out by leaving heart-shaped pieces of bread all over the bakery with Azuma+Kawachi carefully stenciled onto the top of every one.
Unfortunately, Kawachi didn’t get the chance to taste, much less read any of them, because by the time he came to work, the bakery had already become infested with mice, and he was greeted at the door by an irate Manager yelling at him to “Fucking take Azuma to the movies or something.”
“… what is he doing?” Azuma pressed his index finger to his bottom lip, waving his other hand wildly over Kawachi’s glazed eyes.
“It’s called an internal monologue.” Manager growled. “Doesn’t anyone actually bake bread in this godforsaken excuse for a bakery?”
At this moment, Kinoshita walked in, swaying slightly under the load of seven pans of bread rolls, three of which were balanced on his head.
“With everyone shittin’ around like this, I wonder how we make enough money to pay the mortgage.” Manager continued, pointedly staring in the other direction.
***
After they closed the bakery and finally made it to their apartment, even Azuma seemed too tired to do more than kiss Kawachi on the cheek before they separated into their rooms.
Then he paused, playing with the bottom of his uniform in a manner far too adorable for Kawachi’s peace of mind. “Don’t you know …” Azuma looked down shyly. “What … what tomorrow is?”
Kawachi yawned. “What?”
Azuma looked up, his eyes going puppy-dog wide with disappointment.
“Oh shit,” Kawachi ran a hand through his hair, perversely tempted to tongue at Azuma’s wobbling bottom lip. “Uh … I know it’s not your birthday, or- or mine ..”
“It’s our An Adverse Sari!”
“Our what?”
“One month ago, we went on our first date.” Azuma nuzzled at Kawachi’s neck. He had the attention span of a cocker spaniel and therefore was not one for grudges. “Remember? You took me to dinner at a seafood buffet, and then a movie, but you got sick halfway through Dokidoki Super Speedrift and spent the rest of the night puking?”
“Dammit, I was hoping you forgot that,” Kawachi quickly backtracked at the look on Azuma’s face. “I mean … the whole getting sick thing. Not the date. Which was great. You’re great. I love you.”
Azuma beamed. “I love you too, Kawachi! And Tsukino told me that we should spend our An Adverse Sari at a hotel.”
“Anniversary, Azuma.” Kawachi replied, trying desperately to pop the pervy images that kept blowing up in his mind … of him and Azuma in a love hotel, perhaps one with handcuffs and maid costumes …
Damn Tsukino.
Grabbing some tissues to up his bloody nose, Kawachi said firmly. “We’re not going to a hotel, Azuma.”
“Why?” Azuma just looked confused.
“B-Because I’ve got tickets to the amusement park?”
Azuma’s smile broke, sudden and perfect. It lit his eyes, brought a flush to his cheeks, and made Kawachi want to drag him in front of Tsukino and crow, See? Any person who smiles like that for an amusement park is sure as hell too goddamn young for anal sex.
The furthest they’d gotten physically was a bit of shirtless kissing, tussling on the couch, laughing and sweaty like schoolboys. Before it could go further, Kawachi would always make some excuse and skitter away for refrigerated cokes. One of which he would then shove against the fly of his zipper, allowing the freeze to rein in his dangerous libido.
Everyone at the bakery may have thought that he was a perv, but Kyosuke Kawachi was an old-fashioned boy at heart. Which meant hand-holding and chaste kissing and the finer part of innocence, which this sex-corrupted society seemed to have forgotten, so Kawachi justified to himself, even though Azuma’s brown eyes became more desperate and confused each time he pulledaway.
***
When Kawachi had called Tsukino to ask for a day off for both him and Azuma, she gave it to them cheerfully, dropping several broad sexual innuendos. Kawachi was too tired to call her on it, because he knew that Tsukino would likely pull her ‘maidenly’ act and refuse all knowledge.
Which is why, when Tsukino had advised him to “keep Azuma away from sugar”, Kawachi ignored it as another confusing insinuation.
However, when Tsukino told him to “keep Azuma away from sugar”, what she really meant was “keep Azuma away from sugar”. With italics, several exclamation marks and optional glittery font.
For the first hour, Azuma was normal. Then, like a bottle rocket that had been shaken too enthusiastically and lit with a blowtorch. Then, like a five-year-old whining about a stomachache. Then, a bottle rocket again.
Now he was clinging on Kawachi’s arm, enthusiastically tonguing his face off, one hand buried deep in the fur of the large stuffed bear Kawachi had tried for ages to win, losing most of his cool points in the process, until the female attendant took pity on him and Azuma’s large, large eyes.
“Need to … bed …” It wasn’t what it sounded like. Kawachi groaned into Azuma’s enthusiastic, sugar-smeared mouth, clawing his way through the dark apartment with one of Azuma’s legs slung over his hip. Who’d ever heard of someone becoming horny off of sugar?
The bear banged into the couch during one of Kawachi’s struggles, and Azuma whimpered as if he had been struck, gathering the stuffed animal to his chest.
“Are you …” He looked up at Kawachi, eyes dazed and happy and just a little, heartbreakingly, insecure. “Will you come with me?”
Kawachi groaned, his body too stimulated from Azuma’s hyper groping to make a good decision. His boyfriend was sweet and oh-so-fuckable -shirt already unbuttoned, lips swollen with sugar, burying his face in the bear and making little breathy moans …
Okay, the last bit was just so, so wrong …
“I’ll tuck you in,” Kawachi tried to be firm. He turned away before he could see Azuma’s face fall. “You need sleep. And vegetables.”
“I’m not a child!” Azuma protested, climbing onto his bed with the large bear in tow. It was about the size of a toddler and had a jaunty green ribbon tied under its furry chin. Kawachi was suddenly, unreasonably jealous of it.
“Good night.” Kawachi swallowed, before he could do anything he regretted. He turned back when he heard Azuma speak.
“Fine, mister Bear, I think we don’t need that meanie Kawachi anymore,” Azuma’s voice became pouty and high, at the exact decibel where Kawachi began writhing with guilt. “You and me can have fun all by ourselves.”
“No, Azuma.” Kawachi swallowed as Azuma began wiggling out of his clothes.
“Weren’t you going to go?” Azuma didn’t even spare him a glance, petting Mr. Bear on the chest in long, slow strokes.
Mr. Bear’s black button eyes seemed to leer in the lamplight.
“I-I think Mr. Bear wants to play with me, even when meanie Kawachi doesn’t … ” Flushed face revealing the embarrassment that didn’t show in his actions, Azuma quickly stripped off his pants, resorting to kicking when the bottom cuff got stuck on his ankle. Quickly, shyly, he looked up to make sure Kawachi was still watching before he slipped off his shirt. In his eagerness, Azuma forgot his left sock.
Kawachi kept telling himself to walk away, walk away now, and he kept telling himself that right up to the part when Azuma palmed himself through his underwear and began rubbing like he was trying to start a fire.
No more pouty baby-talk. Azuma had buried his enflamed face in Mr. Bear’s chest, and all that was coming out of his mouth were soft, tumbling moans, bitten off before they could permutate to Kawachi’s name. He took his hand away and his lower body curled to rut against the soft fur, making it sticky with his spreading precome.
Usually, the sense of creepy-wrongness in terms of Azuma’s mental youth ran at odds with Kawachi’s arousal. This time, distressingly, it flamed it into an inferno.
In the welcoming arms of Mr. Bear, Azuma’s thin body looked even smaller, his noises softer with genuine surprise, his movements clumsier and more innocent as he gyrated his hips wildly.
Kawachi had never wanted more than to push Azuma into the mattress and completely corrupt him.
“Touch …” Kawachi forced out, breathing for want of air. “Touch your chest. Y-your nipples.”
Azuma nodded eagerly with his eyes shut, but instead of reaching up a hand, he pulled Mr. Bear’s face down, and used his hard plastic nose to thumb one stiff pink nipple, then another, releasing surprised noises each time.
Kawachi by this time was roughly jerking his own cock, one hand on the doorframe for balance. His face had never really shifted out of the stunned expression he first wore when Azuma had christened his new toy Mr. Bear.
“What now?” Azuma continued to rub his sensitive nipples on different parts of Mr. Bear’s body.
“Can you last very long?”
“No!” Azuma cried, shaking his head, and Kawachi was immensely relieved because he had all of twenty seconds himself.
“Okay … okay, then j-jerk yourself off.” The words sounded incredibly pervy coming from Kawachi’s mouth, but it was worth it when Azuma obeyed automatically, wrapping one of Mr. Bear’s hands around his own and pumping into the friction of its felt paws.
Some part of Kawachi wanted to thank the gods for this, no matter how dirtybadwrong it was, because without it he would have never known how Azuma looked when he came, sobbing Kawachi’s name like it was a prayer, body collapsing sweaty and limp and lovely in the sheets.
When Kawachi regained his senses, he was weak-kneed and hanging onto the doorway, with a handful of his own spunk and a stupid, smitten smile on his face.
Azuma looked at his dirtied bear disapprovingly. “Pervy Kawachi.” He commented with a long-suffering sigh, before rolling over and falling asleep.
Author:
silverfoxflower Fandom: Yakitate!! Japan
Genre: Crack/Humor, Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~2200
Pairing: Kawachi/Azuma
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Underage sex (character is 17 but acts younger), a whole lot of ageplay
Notes: Written for 'Plushies/Furries' for the kink bingo. See my card here.
Summary: Kawachi thinks Azuma's too young for sex. Azuma and Mr. Bear seduce him.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Please be no with the suing.
It was hard to forget how young Azuma was.
Even though he had celebrated his seventeenth birthday just last week, there were still times when Kawachi felt like nothing but a creep for touching his thin shoulders, his tender mouth, his limbs quivering like a jackrabbit willing itself to stillness. The little bread-genius was a baker and craftsman respected world-wide for his work. Still, in almost all other areas, he was still impossibly inexperienced.
“You’re always overdramatic, Kawachi,” Tsukino scolded him. “You’ve got, what, all of three years on him?”
“I’m not being overdramatic!” Kawachi put down his hands before he could make any sweeping gestures. “Have you seen the kid’s eyes? Every time I kiss him I feel as I should be offering him candy out of the back of my van.”
“Well he’s grown-up enough to whine to me daily about how ‘Kawachi thinks still I’m a kid’, and ‘Why won’t he give me anal sex?’”
“What was that?” Kawachi sputtered, “Nevermind. I … I don’t want to talk about it!” He turned back, viciously pounding the dough in front of him into submission.
Tsukino sighed, smoothing her lacy skirt over her knees. “I’m just trying to help, Kawachi. I mean, I know for a fact that Kai would like nothing more than to pounce on poor Azuma like a hungry wildebeest-“
“Wildebeest are herbivores, Tsukino.”
“-and Kanmuri already molests him almost daily. Don’t even let me get started on Kuroyanagi.” Tsukino flipped her hair and sighed again, louder. “Don’t you remember when you were a seventeen-year-old boy? Mark my words, if you don’t satisfy Azuma, he’s gonna roll over and wave his cute little butt around like a savannah lioness in heat.”
Kawachi sputtered. “What is with the African wildlife metaphors? And more importantly, where did you even get the idea-“
“Yaoi.”
“Don’t you have something to do … like sell bread or be eye candy or something?” Kawachi ground out.
Tsukino’s eyes narrowed, a sure sign that her maidenly patience was being sorely tested. “I’m serious, Kawachi, Azuma deserves at least three quarters of a goal.”
“Three quarters of what?” Kawachi turned, only to find himself staring into his own reflection, mirrored in the Manager’s dark aviators.
“I believe she meant ‘third base’. As in the American game of baseball where runners begin batting at home plate, running to first, second, third and finally back home again to score a point. In this case it is slang for-“
Kawachi groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re part of this, too.”
Manager snorted. “I’m here to tell you to get back to work, pedo.”
At that moment, Azuma walked in, arms full of flour, eggs, and less common ingredients. To Kawachi he looked so innocent – cheeks flushed from the cold, hair escaping his brightly colored headband and falling across his eyes, baby-pink lips pursed in concentration as he set down first one bag, then the other on the counter.
No matter what anyone else said, Azuma was just too young. One whiff of the perverted things running through Kawachi’s brain and he’d run crying. To the police. After all, this was the kid who asked him out by leaving heart-shaped pieces of bread all over the bakery with Azuma+Kawachi carefully stenciled onto the top of every one.
Unfortunately, Kawachi didn’t get the chance to taste, much less read any of them, because by the time he came to work, the bakery had already become infested with mice, and he was greeted at the door by an irate Manager yelling at him to “Fucking take Azuma to the movies or something.”
“… what is he doing?” Azuma pressed his index finger to his bottom lip, waving his other hand wildly over Kawachi’s glazed eyes.
“It’s called an internal monologue.” Manager growled. “Doesn’t anyone actually bake bread in this godforsaken excuse for a bakery?”
At this moment, Kinoshita walked in, swaying slightly under the load of seven pans of bread rolls, three of which were balanced on his head.
“With everyone shittin’ around like this, I wonder how we make enough money to pay the mortgage.” Manager continued, pointedly staring in the other direction.
***
After they closed the bakery and finally made it to their apartment, even Azuma seemed too tired to do more than kiss Kawachi on the cheek before they separated into their rooms.
Then he paused, playing with the bottom of his uniform in a manner far too adorable for Kawachi’s peace of mind. “Don’t you know …” Azuma looked down shyly. “What … what tomorrow is?”
Kawachi yawned. “What?”
Azuma looked up, his eyes going puppy-dog wide with disappointment.
“Oh shit,” Kawachi ran a hand through his hair, perversely tempted to tongue at Azuma’s wobbling bottom lip. “Uh … I know it’s not your birthday, or- or mine ..”
“It’s our An Adverse Sari!”
“Our what?”
“One month ago, we went on our first date.” Azuma nuzzled at Kawachi’s neck. He had the attention span of a cocker spaniel and therefore was not one for grudges. “Remember? You took me to dinner at a seafood buffet, and then a movie, but you got sick halfway through Dokidoki Super Speedrift and spent the rest of the night puking?”
“Dammit, I was hoping you forgot that,” Kawachi quickly backtracked at the look on Azuma’s face. “I mean … the whole getting sick thing. Not the date. Which was great. You’re great. I love you.”
Azuma beamed. “I love you too, Kawachi! And Tsukino told me that we should spend our An Adverse Sari at a hotel.”
“Anniversary, Azuma.” Kawachi replied, trying desperately to pop the pervy images that kept blowing up in his mind … of him and Azuma in a love hotel, perhaps one with handcuffs and maid costumes …
Damn Tsukino.
Grabbing some tissues to up his bloody nose, Kawachi said firmly. “We’re not going to a hotel, Azuma.”
“Why?” Azuma just looked confused.
“B-Because I’ve got tickets to the amusement park?”
Azuma’s smile broke, sudden and perfect. It lit his eyes, brought a flush to his cheeks, and made Kawachi want to drag him in front of Tsukino and crow, See? Any person who smiles like that for an amusement park is sure as hell too goddamn young for anal sex.
The furthest they’d gotten physically was a bit of shirtless kissing, tussling on the couch, laughing and sweaty like schoolboys. Before it could go further, Kawachi would always make some excuse and skitter away for refrigerated cokes. One of which he would then shove against the fly of his zipper, allowing the freeze to rein in his dangerous libido.
Everyone at the bakery may have thought that he was a perv, but Kyosuke Kawachi was an old-fashioned boy at heart. Which meant hand-holding and chaste kissing and the finer part of innocence, which this sex-corrupted society seemed to have forgotten, so Kawachi justified to himself, even though Azuma’s brown eyes became more desperate and confused each time he pulledaway.
***
When Kawachi had called Tsukino to ask for a day off for both him and Azuma, she gave it to them cheerfully, dropping several broad sexual innuendos. Kawachi was too tired to call her on it, because he knew that Tsukino would likely pull her ‘maidenly’ act and refuse all knowledge.
Which is why, when Tsukino had advised him to “keep Azuma away from sugar”, Kawachi ignored it as another confusing insinuation.
However, when Tsukino told him to “keep Azuma away from sugar”, what she really meant was “keep Azuma away from sugar”. With italics, several exclamation marks and optional glittery font.
For the first hour, Azuma was normal. Then, like a bottle rocket that had been shaken too enthusiastically and lit with a blowtorch. Then, like a five-year-old whining about a stomachache. Then, a bottle rocket again.
Now he was clinging on Kawachi’s arm, enthusiastically tonguing his face off, one hand buried deep in the fur of the large stuffed bear Kawachi had tried for ages to win, losing most of his cool points in the process, until the female attendant took pity on him and Azuma’s large, large eyes.
“Need to … bed …” It wasn’t what it sounded like. Kawachi groaned into Azuma’s enthusiastic, sugar-smeared mouth, clawing his way through the dark apartment with one of Azuma’s legs slung over his hip. Who’d ever heard of someone becoming horny off of sugar?
The bear banged into the couch during one of Kawachi’s struggles, and Azuma whimpered as if he had been struck, gathering the stuffed animal to his chest.
“Are you …” He looked up at Kawachi, eyes dazed and happy and just a little, heartbreakingly, insecure. “Will you come with me?”
Kawachi groaned, his body too stimulated from Azuma’s hyper groping to make a good decision. His boyfriend was sweet and oh-so-fuckable -shirt already unbuttoned, lips swollen with sugar, burying his face in the bear and making little breathy moans …
Okay, the last bit was just so, so wrong …
“I’ll tuck you in,” Kawachi tried to be firm. He turned away before he could see Azuma’s face fall. “You need sleep. And vegetables.”
“I’m not a child!” Azuma protested, climbing onto his bed with the large bear in tow. It was about the size of a toddler and had a jaunty green ribbon tied under its furry chin. Kawachi was suddenly, unreasonably jealous of it.
“Good night.” Kawachi swallowed, before he could do anything he regretted. He turned back when he heard Azuma speak.
“Fine, mister Bear, I think we don’t need that meanie Kawachi anymore,” Azuma’s voice became pouty and high, at the exact decibel where Kawachi began writhing with guilt. “You and me can have fun all by ourselves.”
“No, Azuma.” Kawachi swallowed as Azuma began wiggling out of his clothes.
“Weren’t you going to go?” Azuma didn’t even spare him a glance, petting Mr. Bear on the chest in long, slow strokes.
Mr. Bear’s black button eyes seemed to leer in the lamplight.
“I-I think Mr. Bear wants to play with me, even when meanie Kawachi doesn’t … ” Flushed face revealing the embarrassment that didn’t show in his actions, Azuma quickly stripped off his pants, resorting to kicking when the bottom cuff got stuck on his ankle. Quickly, shyly, he looked up to make sure Kawachi was still watching before he slipped off his shirt. In his eagerness, Azuma forgot his left sock.
Kawachi kept telling himself to walk away, walk away now, and he kept telling himself that right up to the part when Azuma palmed himself through his underwear and began rubbing like he was trying to start a fire.
No more pouty baby-talk. Azuma had buried his enflamed face in Mr. Bear’s chest, and all that was coming out of his mouth were soft, tumbling moans, bitten off before they could permutate to Kawachi’s name. He took his hand away and his lower body curled to rut against the soft fur, making it sticky with his spreading precome.
Usually, the sense of creepy-wrongness in terms of Azuma’s mental youth ran at odds with Kawachi’s arousal. This time, distressingly, it flamed it into an inferno.
In the welcoming arms of Mr. Bear, Azuma’s thin body looked even smaller, his noises softer with genuine surprise, his movements clumsier and more innocent as he gyrated his hips wildly.
Kawachi had never wanted more than to push Azuma into the mattress and completely corrupt him.
“Touch …” Kawachi forced out, breathing for want of air. “Touch your chest. Y-your nipples.”
Azuma nodded eagerly with his eyes shut, but instead of reaching up a hand, he pulled Mr. Bear’s face down, and used his hard plastic nose to thumb one stiff pink nipple, then another, releasing surprised noises each time.
Kawachi by this time was roughly jerking his own cock, one hand on the doorframe for balance. His face had never really shifted out of the stunned expression he first wore when Azuma had christened his new toy Mr. Bear.
“What now?” Azuma continued to rub his sensitive nipples on different parts of Mr. Bear’s body.
“Can you last very long?”
“No!” Azuma cried, shaking his head, and Kawachi was immensely relieved because he had all of twenty seconds himself.
“Okay … okay, then j-jerk yourself off.” The words sounded incredibly pervy coming from Kawachi’s mouth, but it was worth it when Azuma obeyed automatically, wrapping one of Mr. Bear’s hands around his own and pumping into the friction of its felt paws.
Some part of Kawachi wanted to thank the gods for this, no matter how dirtybadwrong it was, because without it he would have never known how Azuma looked when he came, sobbing Kawachi’s name like it was a prayer, body collapsing sweaty and limp and lovely in the sheets.
When Kawachi regained his senses, he was weak-kneed and hanging onto the doorway, with a handful of his own spunk and a stupid, smitten smile on his face.
Azuma looked at his dirtied bear disapprovingly. “Pervy Kawachi.” He commented with a long-suffering sigh, before rolling over and falling asleep.
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Date: 2011-09-27 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-29 02:21 am (UTC)