Comforts of Home
"Yamashita-kun!" Maki called, careful--as always--to address him formally while they were in public and might be overheard.
Yamapi waved at her.
"Stop sitting on the bench and come play ball."
"I'm fine here. Really."
Maki threw the baseball with deadly precision, and it smacked into Kame's glove. Kame drew his arm back to return the throw, the ball tracing a high parabola that Yamapi followed with his eyes until it dropped neatly into Maki's own glove.
Rather than throw the ball to Kame again, Maki tossed it lightly up in the air and caught it a few times with her left hand. "It's more fun to play with three people."
"Not if one of them keeps missing the ball or dropping it and having to run all over the field to fetch it," Yamapi said.
"Listen to that pitiful excuse," Maki said to Kame, and she shook her head sadly.
Yamapi was about to defend himself, but suddenly there was a baseball flying towards his head and he yelped and ducked. The baseball hit the ground behind him with rather alarming force.
"You were supposed to catch that!" Maki said, sounding torn between horror and amusement.
"I can't!" Yamapi protested. Then he shrugged and stood up. "I might as well try, though. I'm obviously no safer sitting it out on the bench."
Maki flushed. "Sorry," she said. It would have been a more convincing apology if she weren't smiling at the same time.
"Just prepare yourself for me doing this a lot," Yamapi said, gesturing to himself as he jogged off to retrieve the baseball lying fifteen meters away.
The knife in Kame's hands made a regular thwok, thwok, thwok sound as he sliced steadily through his fourth sweet potato. Maki reached for her own knife, and Kame sliced a little faster, until he saw that she was only using it to cut some scallions. Maki hid a wry smile.
It was a bit much at times; just because she was a girl didn't mean that she wasn't allowed to get the occasional blister. But Kame had noticed one day that she had gotten one, and suddenly the cutting board came under his province whenever the two of them were in the kitchen. Maki never let on that she'd noticed, but she started taking out the trash--which both she and Kame hated doing--a little more frequently after that as thanks.
"Smells good," Yamapi said, poking his head around the doorway.
"Twenty more minutes," Kame said without looking up from the cutting board.
Maki palmed one of the apples in the fruit bowl and snuck it to him under the guise of checking on the squid she was searing. He kissed her quickly on the cheek and ducked out of the room again.
"What do you think of some ginger in this?" Maki asked, wandering back to the counter and ignoring Kame's pointedly arched eyebrow.
The apartment was silent when Kame returned from drama filming a little after four in the afternoon, though Yamapi's and Maki's shoes were both in the entryway. He toed off his own shoes and stepped down the hallway quietly, not wanting to disturb them if they were taking advantage of Yamapi's rare day off.
The bedroom door was open, though, and even when he was standing in the living room Kame couldn't hear anything, so he crept closer and peered into their room. As it turned out, Yamapi and Maki were taking advantage of the day off, albeit not how he'd imagined.
The blinds were half-drawn, and the late afternoon sunlight tinted the room sepia. Yamapi and Maki lay on the bed in a cloud of blankets. Maki's head was tucked neatly under Yamapi's chin, and their sleeping faces were still and peaceful. Sleep and the dim light washed away the shadows under Yamapi's eyes, the faint lines he could sometimes see at the corners of Maki's mouth and eyes.
Before he'd reached home, all Kame'd wanted was a shower and a cup of tea and maybe his own nap, but now he leaned against the doorframe for long, quiet minutes to watch the slow rise and fall of the covers and the way Maki's hair was ruffled gently by each of Yamapi's breaths.
"More sake?" Yamapi asked, lifting the bottle.
Kame tilted his head, considering the question, then shook it in negation.
Yamapi shrugged and filled his own cup.
"Ooh, I love this one!" Kame exclaimed suddenly, fumbling for his microphone.
Yamapi grinned. He loved the moment when Kame became tipsy and relaxed enough to focus on the song rather than on how he looked singing it.
"Like flowers blooming in my heart," Kame warbled, eyes closed.
Yamapi took a deep breath, feeling his own heart and lungs swelling with warmth and tenderness and a little bit of pride. He plucked a piece of melon from the somewhat ravaged table and popped it into his mouth. Then he took Kame's free hand in his, listening with a fond smile to the sound of Kame butchering the Kinki Kids.
"Yamapi, wake up, that's you," Kame mumbled into his pillow.
"Huh?" Yamapi blinked his eyes open, then groaned. "No, no, no. It can't be eight yet."
"It isn't," Maki agreed, and she reached over to turn off the blaring alarm clock.
Yamapi's eyes blinked open again, and this time they stayed that way. He stared up at her, a frown creasing his forehead. "What?"
"It's six-thirty," Maki said. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "You can go back to sleep if you really want."
"Why are you up so early?" Yamapi asked.
"No reason," Maki said and leaned down to kiss him. Yamapi's mouth spread into a smile against her lips.
"I'm going to brush my teeth," Kame said, and Maki turned her head just in time to see him staring at the two of them before he slipped out of the bed.
"You, too," Maki said and pointed at Yamapi sternly.
"I know, I know," he said, laughing. He tucked the blankets around Maki before he left the room.
She settled back into the warmth of the bed with a happy sigh, and her eyes slowly...slipped...shut...
The bed dipped suddenly with the weight of another person. "Hey, don't do that," Kame said, tapping her cheek gently. "This was your idea; you should stay awake for it."
Maki smiled, her eyes still closed. "I'm sure you could manage without me."
"Lazy girl," Kame accused her fondly. A small brush of movement and a breath of warm air across her lips was all the warning she had before he kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders--he must have taken off his pajama shirt in the bathroom--and drew him closer. The bed dipped on her other side, and Yamapi's warm hand crept under the covers and slid under her shirt to stroke her stomach.
"Mmm," Maki murmured into the kiss, not sure whom she was responding to.
"Beautiful girl," Yamapi whispered. He huffed a laugh, which confused Maki for a moment until he added, "Beautiful boy."
Kame pulled away--with encouragement from Yamapi's hand tugging his hair--and leaned across Maki to kiss Yamapi on the mouth. She watched their tongues touch lazily and tried not to look up anyone's nose despite the strange angle.
The hand that Yamapi rested on her stomach stroked up and down slowly, hitting more and more territory with each pass. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her pajama pants and then slid up to stroke over her ribs, and Maki felt her breathing quicken with anticipation and pleasure.
On the fourth or fifth repetition, Yamapi's thumb brushed the underside of her breast. His hand slid away again, but only enough to turn so that he could cup her breast and squeeze carefully, rubbing her nipple and making Maki squirm into the touch. The soft, wet sounds of Yamapi and Kame kissing stopped, and Yamapi pulled his hand out from under her shirt again.
Before Maki could consider whether it was a good idea to register a protest, Yamapi's hands were on the waistband of her pajamas and tugging them down. At the same time, Kame leaned down and fastened his lips around her left nipple, visibly hard beneath her white cotton camisole. Maki threaded a hand into his hair and arched into the touch. She could feel her shirt starting to get wet as Kame licked and sucked at her nipple through the fabric.
It took Yamapi a tiny bit longer to pull her pants off, and then he settled himself under the blankets and slid a finger inside her without further delay. Maki's hips rose involuntarily. Yamapi pressed her back against the bed with his free hand and used that thumb to part her labia. Maki shivered, and then Yamapi's tongue brushed wetly across her clitoris and made her moan.
She couldn't keep her grasp on Kame's hair without the danger of pulling it, so she let go carefully and cupped his shoulder instead, warm and smooth under her hand. He bit carefully at her nipple, and Maki made an appreciative noise in the back of her throat. Another couple of sucks, and Kame began to gnaw gently. He traced circles around her other nipple with his finger in counterpoint.
Yamapi's tongue licked soft, fluid patterns--he'd told her once that he would trace imaginary hiragana when he got bored or didn't know what else to do--that made Maki's stomach quiver and her thighs tremble. She guessed that he'd gotten to the second repetition of 'mu' before her orgasm hit in a swelling wave that made her cry out and dig her fingernails into Kame's shoulder.
Kame hissed a little--probably from pleasure as well as from the unexpected pain, based on previous observation--but Maki was feeling too blissed out to really care. She gave him a soft brush of her fingers against his shoulder in apology, either way.
A trickle of sweat ran down her cheek from her forehead, and she blinked. "It's hot," she complained a little breathlessly; she hadn't even noticed until just that moment.
"You're telling me," Yamapi said from the vicinity of her stomach, his voice muffled by the blankets. There was a small upheaval, like a miniature tectonic shift, and then Yamapi emerged from beneath the covers, face bright red and shiny with heat.
Kame laughed at him, even as his hands were busy helping Maki remove her camisole and shoving the blankets down to their waists.
"Can I?" Yamapi asked after her breathing had evened out again, even though she'd never said 'no' any of the dozens of times he'd asked before.
Maki nodded. "Like this okay?" she asked, getting onto her hands and knees. She couldn't see Yamapi's face from that direction, but the look that came over Kame's at the realization of what she wanted was very gratifying.
One of Yamapi's hands stroked over the curve of her ass, and he said, "Yeah, this is fine," with a rough edge in his voice.
Kame got the condom out of the bedside table and handed it to him. Half a minute later, Yamapi slid into her in one smooth, long thrust, grunting softly.
This wasn't typically Maki's favorite position, but after she'd had her orgasm and wasn't particularly desperate for another one, it wasn't bad at all. And it was very convenient in other ways, as Kame stripped off his pajama pants and seated himself on the headboard, his hard cock within easy reach of her mouth.
He had to use his own hand to guide it to her lips, since both of Maki's were busy holding herself up. It slipped into her mouth, slick and salty and hot, and Maki moaned softly. Yamapi's thrusts slid her forward and back on Kame's cock. She sucked when she could and let Yamapi's rhythm take care of the rest.
Kame came first, as per usual; he moaned suddenly and shuddered, hands tightening white-knuckled on the headboard, and Maki swallowed quickly against the rush of bitter heat in her mouth.
Yamapi held off a moment to let her recover and to let Kame get down from his perch on the headboard. Then he looped a secure arm beneath her to grasp her shoulder and fucked her more deeply than had been possible earlier. Maki could feel the pleasurable weight of Kame's eyes on them, though she didn't turn to look at him.
There was a soft touch against her breast, as Kame traced the elongated curve that gravity made of it, then twisted the nipple carefully between his pinched fingers. Maki gasped, and Yamapi chuckled in response.
"You know, it's still only seven-thirty," Kame said. "If you hurried, we could get a little more sleep in before you had to get up for work."
"Fine," Yamapi managed to say, and the pace of his thrusts sped up for another two, three minutes until he came with a low groan.
He pulled out carefully, and Maki curled up next to Kame, basking in the afterglow.
Yamapi clambered off the bed to deal with the condom; Kame refused to let them keep the trashcan near the bed, since he considered it unhygienic. He slid under the covers on Kame's other side upon his return and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Kame stroked Yamapi's arm and said, "Don't forget the alarm clock," in a faintly anxious tone.
"It's already set," Maki reassured him sleepily. She wriggled closer so that she could rest her head on Kame's shoulder. He made a bony pillow--as did Yamapi at times, though not at the moment--but that didn't matter. The two of them were all the comfort she needed.