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05 December 2006 @ 03:41 am
fic: Vanilla Videos and Vodka  
Title: Vanilla, Vodka and Videos – Part of the Kritiker A/V club
Author: Seraphim Grace
Archive: www.geocities.com/taliasen1256, if you want it ask, I just like to know where they are. www.livejournal.com/users/seraphim_grace, www.mediaminer.org,
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18
Pairings: AyaxYohji
Warnings: Smut, and some heckling.

Vanilla vodka and videos.

The room was dark and silent apart from the breathing of it’s four occupants. Slowly and deliberately Manx inserted a plain black video cassette, “tonight ladies,” she said with a smile, “we have a real prize.”
The rest of the room’s inhabitants shuffled in the sofa, their hair perfectly styled and their suits immaculate. Four of Persia’s best had gathered for this “briefing”, Manx had individually called them for this. There were even snacks.
“This better be worth it this time, Manx,” Birman said crossing her long legs in front of her, “because after the incident with Crawford and the shower we were understandably upset.”
“I know,” Rex added, “what were the chances of the lens fogging?” She was suitably sarcastic, “in the bathroom of all places.”
“I didn’t think to use an underwater lens, it’s been amended and we just have to wait for our agent to bring us the cassette,” Manx said sitting down on the arm chair and picking up the remote, “but that was a shame,” she kicked off her pumps and folded her long legs under her, “well ladies, believe me, this was more than worth the wait. I present…”
“This can’t beat my contribution of Red Rook doing yoga.” Queen said with a smirk.
“His downward facing dog was surveillance at it’s finest,” Rex agreed with a smile, causing her and Birman to gush together, “oh and Siberian shadowboxing was worth mentioning. Now that was a tape to be proud of.”
“Ladies,” Manx said with a smirk, “you haven’t seen anything yet. I present Balinese gets Abyssinian drunk.”
Queen groaned standing up. “I’m leaving, I have no intention of watching two men vomit on each other.”
“They don’t,” Manx said, “maybe we should relabel this tape Balinese removes Abyssinian’s inhibitions with vanilla vodka to surprising results.” Queen sat back down.
“You caught that on tape?” Birman asked, leaning forward, “I thought the photo of Abyssinian sleeping naked that Botan caught was the best we were going to get, but…”
“I had an ally,” Manx said, “ and a little blackmail goes a long way.”
“Then stop talking and put the tape on,” Rex snapped, reaching out Manx turned on the tape.

Bombay’s cheerful smiling face filled the screen, “hello ladies, I am pleased to present tonight’s feature presentation, Balinese gets Abyssinian drunk, as I’m sure you know it has long since been a request of the entire Kritiker A/V group to catch images of Abyssinian, or Red Rook, as he was once known, and it seems that without outside help you were incapable of this. So I present Weiss gets Abyssinian drunk and naked with Balinese.”

“Manx,” Birman interrupted, “tell me you didn’t set it as a mission.”
“Didn’t need to,” Manx answered blithely.

Yohji had his arm around Aya and was guiding him to the couch, “’M not drunk.” Aya protested, “’M cone sold stober.” Then he thought about it, “mean ‘m sone cold stober, no, ‘m not drunk.”
“Course you’re not.” Yohji said rolling his bright green eyes, “the world really is just off kilter.”
“’Tis,” Aya protested, “it’s spinning funny,” he moved his fingers so they crossed, “lost direckshuns at once.” was only drinking cream soda all night. Not drunk.”
“Aya,” Yohji said leaning in so their faces were inches apart, “you weren’t drinking cream soda, that first drink that you kept asking for the same of, was vanilla vodka and lemonade, you had seven of them, I’d be upset if I wasn’t drunk after all that.”
“Not drunk,” Aya said leaning forward into Yohji’s face, “don’t get drunk, only drinking soda.” He was waving with his hand, and pleasantly flushed, “Yotan, you smell,” he leaned in and took a deep sniff, “like club.”
“You smell like vanilla,” Yohji answered, “now come on, let’s get you into bed.”
“Doane wanna.” Aya said leaning back, “wanna stay ‘ere.”
“Aya, you’re drunk,” Yohji protested, “You’d be better off in bed, if you want we can continue this conversation in the morning.”

“Tell me the bedrooms are wired,” Birman said, in a low breathy voice.
“They don’t need to be.” Manx replied smugly. “But yes they are.”
“God he’s pretty when he’s drunk.” Queen breathed, “now I know why Knight pined when he left.”
“Hell, they’re both pretty.” Rex said taking a handful of popcorn.

“Doane wanna,” Aya protested, batting away Yohji’s hands. “Wanna stay ‘ere.” Aya was smirking as Yohji lost his balance and fell to the floor.
“You should know better than to accept drinks from strangers.” He said, sitting down on the floor and leaning forward through his open legs. “You are going to be sick in the morning.”
“Not drunk,” Aya protested. “Wasn’t stranger, was Ken, Ken got me soda, like I asked.”
Yohji raised a tan eyebrow over his sunglasses. “Ken got you drunk?”
“Not drunk,” Aya protested, lolling his head back onto the sofa to show an expanse of pale white neck. “Ken wouldn’t get me drunk, I asked for soda, he got me cream soda.”
“Aya, I finished your last drink,” Yohji said patiently, “it was half vodka.”
“Not, vodka,” Aya protested, “hot, swirly,” he touched his lips, “numb.” He grinned, and then tried to pull his T-shirt over his head, it got tangled and when he tried to dislodge himself he fell to the side.

“Look at that,” Birman gushed, so as not to interrupt the broadcast Manx paused the tape, “you could shave with those cheekbones, but I could build a house on that chest and live there happily ever after and he’s got a navel ring.”
“Never mind that chest,” Rex said, “though it is considerable, check out his ass, he’s in leather.”
“And Balinese looks so wanton sat like that.” Queen admitted, sipping her wine carefully so as not to smudge her lipstick.
“I know,” Manx said, “it just gets better.” She took the tape off freeze frame.

“Let me help you,” Yohji said leaning over showing the camera an expanse of golden back where his crop top rode up as he leant forward rising off the floor so that his ass was posed for the tape, perfectly framed in his jeans.

“Kami-sama,” Rex said, “that ass!”

He lifted the edges of Aya’s T-shirt over his head and helped him back into a sitting position. As he did Aya grabbed his shirt and unbuttoned it. “What are you doing?” Yohji asked sitting back into a squatting position.
“If ‘m gonna be nakie, then you gotta be nakie too.” Aya said firmly.
“You’re not going to be naked,” Yohji said.

“Please tell me he is,” Birman said.
“Of course he is, although this tape would be worth its weight in gold even if he didn’t.” Rex said, “Bombay is so getting a bonus for this, and Siberian for getting him drunk.”
“Believe me,” Manx said, “they did.”
“Turn the tape back on.” Queen hissed.

“Why’d you take my shirt toff?” Aya slurred.
“You took your shirt off, I just helped.” Yohji told him, “how about I get you some juice?”
“Not want juus.” Aya told him, then he laughed, “want soda.”
“We haven’t got soda, Aya, we’ve got juice.”
“Rinj juus?” Aya asked, enunciating carefully which just made everything more slurred.
“Yes, orange juice.” Yohji was speaking as if to a child.
“Not like rinj juus.” Aya said flopping forward. “Like soda. Ken bought soda, must be soda in fridge.”
“No, Aya, there’s no soda, now come on, and I’ll take you to bed.” Yohji got unto his knees and put his hands under Aya’s armpits to lift him.
“Yoh-jee,” Aya enunciated the name carefully, “you smell nice.”
“you smell nice too, Aya.” Yohji said patiently.
“Yoh-jee,” Aya said leaning forward and licking his neck, because his face was turned away from the camera Yohji’s expression couldn’t be seen. “You taste like soda.”
“No, I don’t, now you’re drunk, Aya, we can continue this in the morning.” Yohji said pulling back. He wasn’t frustrated with Aya, in fact he was being remarkably patient.
“Fought we were past that,” Aya slammed his hand down flat on Yohji’s back in temper, “not drunk, only had soda.”
“If you feel this way in the morning we can have this conversation then, but you’re drunk.”
“Want you.” Aya said quite clearly.

Three out of four women in the room gasped, the fourth had edited the tape and knew it was coming.

“Back up there, Aya,” Yohji said leaning back on his heels. “I don’t think I heard you.”
“Want you,” Aya repeated, “so pretty and golden and,” he tried to launch himself at Yohji but missed, “slippery.” He was blinking, and leaning forward on elbows and knees.
“Aya, you’re really, really drunk,” Yohji protested.
“You had,” Aya thought about it, “More than me, and I had three,” he held up four fingers.
“You had seven.” Yohji took his hands, showing him seven fingers, “and I had two.” He showed him two fingers.
“Not drunk.” Aya protested, scowling, he had decided that enough was enough. “Want you, now, stop moving.”
“I’m not moving.” Yohji said, “if you want this in the morning I’ll be more than willing, but you’re drunk.”

“Never thought Balinese would be the voice of reason.” Birman said in awe, “and that Abyssinian would be the one seducing him.”
“Have you never had vanilla vodka?” Manx asked with a laugh, “it could make a stone horny.”
“By the look of it it’s made Abyssinian horny,” Queen said, “and I never thought I’d see the day, does it really taste like cream soda?” Manx nodded then started the tape again.

“You want me,” Aya said, “I want you, no problem, come ‘ere.” He tried what was obviously meant to be a leer but looked plain strange on his face. “Stop moving!” He leapt forward like a cat pouncing and pinned Yohji to the floor. Then he kissed him, hard, holding him in place with his thighs.
Yohji tried to wriggle but Aya had him fast.

“If he really wanted out of it, it wouldn’t be a problem.” Queen said, “what kind of assassin would he be if he couldn’t get out of that?”
“He doesn’t want out of it.” Birman said, “I know I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

Aya kissed him again, nipping at his lips until his opened his mouth and rubbing back unto Yohji, his hands were holding down Yohji’s wrists as he plunged his tongue into his mouth. Yohji was clearly kissing him back and had stopped protesting. He tried to lift his hands but Aya had him firm. Then he bucked his hips and flipped Aya unto his back. “You have to stop that,” he said as Aya was grinding his hips into Yohji’s. “Or I will come before I’ve got my pants off.”
“Then take ‘em off.” Aya answered. It was an eminently practical solution and was pure Aya.
“I can’t unless you I get off you.” Aya seemed to weigh it up, it was possible to see the concentration on his face. Then he laughed, as Yohji rolled to his side, he fumbled with the button fly of his trousers. “Yoh-jee,” he whined, “I can’t do the buttons.” He bucked his hips to show Yohji that he couldn’t get his trousers undone.
“And you said you weren’t drunk.” Yohji said getting up on his knees to undo Aya’s pants with a quick jerk of the wrist.
“Sank you,” Aya said pulling off his trousers which meant wriggling into some compromising positions.

Birman leant forward holding the handkerchief to her nose. “A really bid bodus,” she said stemming the flow of blood.

The trousers landed on the camera and for a moment two women held their breath, one whined into a bloody tissue and Manx smirked, then they fell to the floor.

“Oh, Aya, you’re beautiful,” Yohji said lying on his side, with his head propped on his elbow.
“No,” Aya said with the same tone of voice as a small child, “want you.” He added for good measure.
“And you’ll get me, just let me look at you.” A pale flush covered Aya’s neck and chest.

“Kami-sama.” Queen said, wiping away a mouthful of drool that was escaping the corner of her mouth, “he’s blushing.”
“He’s gorgeous, for crying out loud, Abyssinian, strip Balinese.” Rex said shovelling popcorn into her mouth.
“Oh he will,” Manx said smugly, but everyone noticed that she was wriggling in her chair.

“Look wit your hands, not your eyes,” Aya said pouncing again, “off,” he said pulling at Yohji’s jeans. He had pinned him to the floor with his hips again. Yohji reached down and unbuttoned his jeans deftly, pushing them down with Aya’s help. Then it was Aya’s turn to look. He tilted his head once and then twice then he smiled, it was smug.
He leant down in a way that raised his ass up and kissed Yohji firmly again, sniggering. “Okay, what’s so funny?” Yohji asked, between kisses.
“S’Nothing.” Aya said putting his hands into Yohji’s hair with a groan.
“Something was funny.” Yohji sounded put off. His hands were working designs on Aya’s back.
“That flower arrangement’s looking at me funny.” Aya said looking clear into the camera.

“He cad see the cabera?” Birman asked in a whisper through her third Kleenex.
Manx nodded.

“Then let’s give it a show, koi” Yohji answered turning them around so they were parallel to the camera rather than pointed towards it as they had been.

“A really bid bodus for Balidese as well.” Birman added, “we cad chip id.”
“Kami-sama.” Queen said, “Balinese is hung.”
“It’s like a baby’s arm.” Rex said tilting her head, “though Abyssinian’s is not to be sniffed it, but that’s a monster.”
“A really, really bid bodus.”

“You taste like cream soda.” Yohji said, after he pulled Aya’s lip out.
Aya was rubbing his hips into Yohji’s and his expression was studious. “Told you,” he said and then he started to kiss Yohji’s ear, dipping his tongue into and out of the tiny hole. “Not drunk, drinking soda,”
“Of course you were,” Yohji said deciding he no longer wanted to argue, “Kami sama that feels good.” He yelped as Aya nipped an earlobe, tugging on his earring. Then groaned as Aya’s hand found his erection, it was the one furthest from the camera and gave a rather interesting view. Yohji cast his head back, as Aya nipped at his Adam’s apple. For a moment he seemed intent on just enjoying it but then Aya seemed a little baffled. He sat up as if he had forgotten what he was doing.
“Let me.” Yohji said flipping him over so Aya lay underneath him and began to kiss his neck, leaving red marks where he’d been, kissing one nipple as his fingers manipulated the other mercilessly. Aya groaned, his head cast back and his hands clutching uselessly at the carpet. Yohji was scooting down and speared his tongue into Aya’s navel causing him to cry out, and was tugging on Aya’s navel ring with his teeth.

“Is he going to?” Birman asked, lifting the box of Kleenex from the side table.
“Please, if there is a god.” Queen said.
“Oh Kami-sama,” Rex said, “he did.”

Yohji took Aya’s cock in his mouth with obvious delight as Aya bucked up and screamed. Yohji smiled up at him, “watch me, lover,” he said, “I want you to watch me.” He lifted one of Aya’s legs and put it over his shoulder so it became obvious to the camera what the other hand was doing, he ran it over Aya’s erection so they were covered in slick pre-cum and then started to tease Aya’s ass as he swallowed him down. Aya kicked uselessly with his right foot whilst his hands clutched at Yohji’s head trying to force him off.
“’M gonna, ‘m gonna.” Aya managed, then yelled “Yohji!” His hips bucked up again and after a few moments Yohji lifted his head, and wiped his mouth, swallowing.
“Aya,” Yohji said appreciatively, “that was,” he looked up and then smiled fondly, Aya was fast asleep.

“Wake him up,” Birman shouted at the screen.

“You’re really pretty when you sleep.” Yohji said, “well, sleep tight, lover.” He leaned across Aya and kissed him lightly.
“Hmm,” Aya said waking up languorously, rolling his shoulders and stretching. “S nice.” He said.
Yohji sat back and laughed. “You came that hard and it was only nice.”
Aya pouted a little, “was really nice,” then he smirked, “do it ‘gain.”
“I’m going to get something, Aya, I’ll be back in a minute. Stay there. Don’t fall asleep.” He stood up and went off camera for a few minutes when he came back he had a small tube in his hand.
Aya looked at it curiously. “I’m going to fuck you, Aya, but I need this to do it.” Aya made an oh shape with his mouth. Then with a smirk rolled over so he was on his knees and spread his legs. Then he wiggled his ass.
Yohji groaned. Then spread some of the lube on his fingers running them down the cleft of Aya’s ass, pressing firmly over his entrance. It was Aya’s turn to groan and he pushed back into the touch. “God, you’re tight.” Yohji said, his hand moving against that perfect ass, “you’re like a virgin.”
“Not,” Aya said.
“I said like a virgin, not that you were.”
“Good,” Aya said, pushing himself back on the hand, “really good.” He lowered his head and was panting, his breath coming in rough gasps, “now!” he ordered, “now,”
“You’re not ready.” Yohji protested.
“Doane care. Now.” He thrusted back, “wanna, now.”
“No,” Yohji said putting more of the lubricant on his fingers and then pushing them in to scissor them apart, “when you’re ready.”
“But you’re so big and hard and,” he was saying it deliberately so that Yohji would be pushed to distraction. “`Wanna.”
“You’ll do,” Yohji said, leaning forward to kiss Aya at the top of his cleft before he knelt behind him and slowly, as carefully as he could began to push into Aya. “Now we’ll take this nice and slow.”
Aya was having none of it, he forced himself back and then blinked, his mouth open. “Itai.” He hissed.
“I told you that,” Yohji said, leaning across him.
“Doane hurt,” Aya protested and to prove it he began to rock his hips, hissing a little as he did so.
“Aya, you’ll hurt yourself.” Yohji said, ready to pull out.
“No, good.” Aya argued, “Doane stop, wanna.”
“Are you going to take it slow?” Yohji asked nuzzling into the red hair at the nape of his neck.
“Okay,” Aya said, rocking his hips as Yohji wrapped one hand about his cock, pulling gently. “Hmmm,” he said, “’s nice.”
Yohji started to pull a little harder as he thrusted into Aya, slowly, deliberately causing him to make little noises, “nice am I?” he said, then snapped his hips, Aya cast back his head and moaned, “I’ll show you nice.”
“Yes,” Aya said, forcing himself back, “more.”
“Nice,” Yohji slammed into Aya, his hand pulling hard.
“Please.” Aya said obviously caught between thrusting back unto Yohji or forward unto his hand.
“Nice.” Yohji pulled back until he was nearly completely free of Aya and then slammed back in hard, Aya screamed as he came again, hard, his hips bucking back and forth without control, Yohji clutched his hips hard, burrowing his fingers into the white skin, jerking back and forth and grunting.
“s’very nice.” Aya said finally, his head hung low, “wanna go bed now.” He added. “Knees hurt.”
Yohji laughed. “Just let me clean you up and we can go to bed.” He pulled out and tried to stand, his legs were suspiciously wobbly, he turned and looked directly at the camera, then he winked. The screen went black.

“Bravo,” Queen said, clapping, “I have to know your technique, Manx, honestly it more than lived up to expectations.”
Birman nodded into her handkerchief, “how did you get theb all to play?” she asked.
Manx smiled, “Bombay owed me a favour, Siberian was blackmailed and Balinese did it for free. Said he’d enjoy himself if we pulled it off.”
“I’d say,” Rex said with a smile.
“Perhaps we should find another group of pretty assassins and introduce them to the wonders of vanilla vodka.” Queen said, it was clear what team they were thinking of.
“We tried.” Birman said, “and unless you want footage of Farfarello explaining at some length to Nagi about the sin of Onanism when he caught the boy jerking off, which we didn’t even get on camera, just Farfarello praising him for it for hurting God, I doubt the boy will do it again.” She shuddered, “face it, we’ll never get Schwarz on camera like that, it’s like they can smell our bugs.”
“Never say never, ladies,” Manx said, “shall we meet again next week?” She gave an enigmatic smile, “for tape number two.”