((Additional warnings/tags: D/S. Let's try this again and hope it posts right. I'm still embarrassed months later, lol)). ------
It started because he noticed just how sensual it was to watch Kei eat a meal that he really enjoyed. It wasn’t often, but every now and again he would just sit and watch the blond eat. The way his mouth opened just so, closing around the food; the slope of his neck as he dipped forward to meet his chopsticks, glasses that were in dire need of a refitting sliding down his nose; the muscles working in his jaw as he chewed, lips pulling in just slightly as he went to swallow. Tadashi would sit, mesmerized by it, watching the bob of Kei’s adam’s apple as he swallowed and started the show again.
It makes him want to lean forward and push food into Kei’s mouth, piece by piece and feel Kei chew and swallow against his fingers. He just had a thing for Kei’s sharp mouth— and anything that passed those lips; he got off the hardest when it was Kei’s mouth around his dick or when the blond would eat him out. He wonders idly if that’s why watching Kei eat was so fascinatingly erotic. His chopsticks droop from his fingers, sliding forward into his rice as he watched Kei nibble, grain-by-grain, on his own.
He decides it’s the other way around, instead, that he gets off so hard from being blown or licked open because it’s so much like when Kei eats and talks. He wants to pick up a handful of his rice and shove it into that pretty little mouth of Kei’s, stuff his cheeks full and watch him struggle to chew it. He taps his chopsticks absently against his bowl until Kei takes notice. He makes up for the desire to stuff Kei’s mouth full of rice later by fucking the blond’s face so hard that Kei is still half-heartedly and hoarsely bitching at him about his sore jaw the next morning.
He watches Kei eat with a mind full of obscenities, of thoughts that make him squirm in his seat and itch to try them out. He satisfies himself with just watching, though. He doesn’t want to discomfit the blond, after all. An at ease Kei was much more pliable and enjoyable than a stressed out Kei.
When Kei’s appetite starts to decline under the stress of juggling college and a nearly-full time job, Tadashi is both reasonably and unreasonably upset with the situation. After two days in a row where the only thing that passed Kei’s lips was coffee and an energy bar, Tadashi decides it’s time to take extreme action. Actions that are… questionable at best. He calls Akiteru. He thought it would take a bit more coaxing to get the elder Tsukishima in on his plan, because like Kei, Akiteru was easily spooked by the strange nature of the relationship the three of them shared. But all Tadashi has to say is that Kei hadn’t eaten in two days and that he was horribly stressed, and would Akiteru please come over to ‘help’, and the older man asked for a time without a second’s thought. Akiteru arrives that same afternoon with a large platter of shortcake in hand, lips pursed in a slight frown.
Tadashi ushers him into his and Kei’s apartment before Akiteru thinks better of coming. He’s been bashful and wary lately, not that Tadashi could particularly blame him for shying under the implications of what they’d indulged themselves in a few months previously. But Tadashi has plans that involve that cake and Akiteru.
He greets the older Tsukishma brother with a firm kiss. He takes the cake platter from Akiteru, grinning slyly as the blond stammers out a greeting after they part. Akiteru slides off his shoes and Tadashi loosely tangles their fingers together before leading him to the kitchen. He explains slowly what he wants to do, trying hard not to relish the flush that starts spreading across Akiteru’s face at his words.
He’d thought that maybe, Akiteru would bolt, but instead he taps his fingers thoughtfully against the table as they wait for Kei to come home. He doesn’t explicitly agree to participate, but Tadashi sees his eyes dart to the cake to the door, then to Tadashi himself, cheeks and ears blooming red.
Kei comes home within the hour, his ‘Tadashi, I’m home’ quiet and subdued. Tadashi rises from the table and goes to greet his lover. He smoothes his hands over the drawn, pale face and down the white teeshirt Kei’s stripped down to. He’s still in his work slacks, black and well-creased and well-fitting. Tadashi thanks the heavens that the uniform for the school library is so sharp-looking and suited for Kei. He hooks his fingers into Kei’s belt loops. “Aki-nii is here,” he murmurs.
Kei’s face barely flashes in recognition. “Mmn.”
Tadashi’s worried about Kei’s lethargy; it never means anything good when the blond is so quiet and sluggish. He rethinks his plan for about ten seconds, but then Kei’s tongue darts out and licks over his lips and Tadashi thinks just how cute it would be to force Kei’s mouth open to the point that that pink tongue lolls out. He leans forward onto the tips of his toes and licks into Kei’s mouth, kissing the blond with very languid movements, coaxing Kei into kissing him back and leaning into his body. Kei’s hands fit against his hips and pull him forward, tongues sliding together between their lips.
Tadashi breaks away and licks his lips as Kei gives a very mournful sounding sigh. He steps backwards and pulls Kei towards the kitchen. “I told him how worried I was about how sluggish you are,” he says quietly.
“He brought cake.”
Kei tips his head to the side, “Ah?”
“Shortcake, from the place in town you like. A whole one, not just slices,” Tadashi supplies. “I asked him to go get it.”
Kei blinks at him, eyes calculating something behind lowered lashes.
Tadashi wonders what he’s thinking, or if he’s remembering the last time Akiteru was in their apartment. He tugs Kei into the kitchen, where Akiteru watches them both with a look that makes Tadashi think of lost puppies. He has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, both Tsukishima brothers ready to fall at his knees, and he’s going to use that to see Kei stuffed and writhing—the excitement is burning through his bones, much like it did the first time Kei let him tie him up or the first time he’d watched Kei bow and arch his body underneath Akiteru’s shaking hands.
“Won’t you please eat something, Tsukki?” Tadashi wheedles, gesturing to the cake. “He got you this, because we know it’s your favorite.”
Kei eyes Tadashi, then the cake, and then his brother warily. “Not hungry,” he mutters. Tadashi can tell, by the way his mouth twists and his eyes dart around the room that Kei’s figured out that Tadashi has something planned, and he’s starting to worry about it; he’s starting to worry that introducing Akiteru to the equation was the wrong move.
“Not cute,” Akiteru tells Kei, reaching out to grab his brother’s hand. Kei’s cheeks bloom red at the action; it makes Tadashi’s stomach flip and his mouth goes dry as he watches how Akiteru gently rubs his thumb into Kei’s palm.
Tadashi watches as shivers wrack down his boyfriend’s spine and he silently cheers Akiteru on.
“Maybe a little?” Kei relents just as Akiteru brings his hand up to start kissing at bony knuckles. “So let go, niichan.” He turns and starts pulling away.
“No, I think Tadashi and I want to make sure you really eat,” Akiteru muses. He tugs at Kei’s hand, hard, and the blond goes toppling into Akiteru’s lap.
Akiteru snakes his arms around Kei’s waist, hands flat against the thin material of Kei’s plain tee shirt as Kei squirms a bit in his lap, severely unbalanced.
Tadashi cuts a piece of cake for Kei, larger than he knows the blond would serve for himself on a good-appetite day. His stomach does another flip-flop at the thought of Kei not eating all of it. He hands Kei the plate.
“Fork, Yamaguchi,” Kei intones. He ignores the way Akiteru’s running his hands up and down his stomach, wiggling his knees underneath his own, until his legs are hooked to either side of Akiteru’s knees. He flushes, but says nothing, as Akiteru uses the position to spread both of their thighs open.
“They’re all dirty,” Tadashi lies blithely. He kneels himself in front both brother’s knees. He skims his hands in between Kei’s thighs, petting over the satiny material of Kei’s slacks as he settles between them on his own knees. “Just eat.”
Kei looks at the plate skeptically, then down at Tadashi. “Really?” he asks.
Tadashi rests his cheek sweetly against Kei’s lap, “Mmm, yep,” he murmurs. He nuzzles against Kei’s fly, relishing how the blond’s hips jerk slightly up into his cheek. Tadashi feels Akiteru’s thighs quiver as well, and the older Tsukishima threads his fingers into Tadashi’s hair.
Tadashi looks up and grins lazily, a sex-soaked smirk that makes both brothers, who both are peering down at him with very similar expressions, turn pink. “Eat it with your fingers. Do you want me to show you?” he offers.
FILL: "Cake" (Yamaguchi/Tsukishima Kei/Tsukishima Akiteru, force-feeding) (Incest, Emetophilia) 1/3
Let's try this again and hope it posts right. I'm still embarrassed months later, lol)).
------
It started because he noticed just how sensual it was to watch Kei eat a meal that he really enjoyed. It wasn’t often, but every now and again he would just sit and watch the blond eat. The way his mouth opened just so, closing around the food; the slope of his neck as he dipped forward to meet his chopsticks, glasses that were in dire need of a refitting sliding down his nose; the muscles working in his jaw as he chewed, lips pulling in just slightly as he went to swallow. Tadashi would sit, mesmerized by it, watching the bob of Kei’s adam’s apple as he swallowed and started the show again.
It makes him want to lean forward and push food into Kei’s mouth, piece by piece and feel Kei chew and swallow against his fingers. He just had a thing for Kei’s sharp mouth— and anything that passed those lips; he got off the hardest when it was Kei’s mouth around his dick or when the blond would eat him out. He wonders idly if that’s why watching Kei eat was so fascinatingly erotic. His chopsticks droop from his fingers, sliding forward into his rice as he watched Kei nibble, grain-by-grain, on his own.
He decides it’s the other way around, instead, that he gets off so hard from being blown or licked open because it’s so much like when Kei eats and talks. He wants to pick up a handful of his rice and shove it into that pretty little mouth of Kei’s, stuff his cheeks full and watch him struggle to chew it. He taps his chopsticks absently against his bowl until Kei takes notice. He makes up for the desire to stuff Kei’s mouth full of rice later by fucking the blond’s face so hard that Kei is still half-heartedly and hoarsely bitching at him about his sore jaw the next morning.
He watches Kei eat with a mind full of obscenities, of thoughts that make him squirm in his seat and itch to try them out. He satisfies himself with just watching, though. He doesn’t want to discomfit the blond, after all. An at ease Kei was much more pliable and enjoyable than a stressed out Kei.
When Kei’s appetite starts to decline under the stress of juggling college and a nearly-full time job, Tadashi is both reasonably and unreasonably upset with the situation. After two days in a row where the only thing that passed Kei’s lips was coffee and an energy bar, Tadashi decides it’s time to take extreme action. Actions that are… questionable at best.
He calls Akiteru. He thought it would take a bit more coaxing to get the elder Tsukishima in on his plan, because like Kei, Akiteru was easily spooked by the strange nature of the relationship the three of them shared. But all Tadashi has to say is that Kei hadn’t eaten in two days and that he was horribly stressed, and would Akiteru please come over to ‘help’, and the older man asked for a time without a second’s thought.
Akiteru arrives that same afternoon with a large platter of shortcake in hand, lips pursed in a slight frown.
Tadashi ushers him into his and Kei’s apartment before Akiteru thinks better of coming. He’s been bashful and wary lately, not that Tadashi could particularly blame him for shying under the implications of what they’d indulged themselves in a few months previously. But Tadashi has plans that involve that cake and Akiteru.
He greets the older Tsukishma brother with a firm kiss. He takes the cake platter from Akiteru, grinning slyly as the blond stammers out a greeting after they part. Akiteru slides off his shoes and Tadashi loosely tangles their fingers together before leading him to the kitchen. He explains slowly what he wants to do, trying hard not to relish the flush that starts spreading across Akiteru’s face at his words.
He’d thought that maybe, Akiteru would bolt, but instead he taps his fingers thoughtfully against the table as they wait for Kei to come home. He doesn’t explicitly agree to participate, but Tadashi sees his eyes dart to the cake to the door, then to Tadashi himself, cheeks and ears blooming red.
Kei comes home within the hour, his ‘Tadashi, I’m home’ quiet and subdued. Tadashi rises from the table and goes to greet his lover. He smoothes his hands over the drawn, pale face and down the white teeshirt Kei’s stripped down to. He’s still in his work slacks, black and well-creased and well-fitting. Tadashi thanks the heavens that the uniform for the school library is so sharp-looking and suited for Kei. He hooks his fingers into Kei’s belt loops. “Aki-nii is here,” he murmurs.
Kei’s face barely flashes in recognition. “Mmn.”
Tadashi’s worried about Kei’s lethargy; it never means anything good when the blond is so quiet and sluggish. He rethinks his plan for about ten seconds, but then Kei’s tongue darts out and licks over his lips and Tadashi thinks just how cute it would be to force Kei’s mouth open to the point that that pink tongue lolls out. He leans forward onto the tips of his toes and licks into Kei’s mouth, kissing the blond with very languid movements, coaxing Kei into kissing him back and leaning into his body. Kei’s hands fit against his hips and pull him forward, tongues sliding together between their lips.
Tadashi breaks away and licks his lips as Kei gives a very mournful sounding sigh. He steps backwards and pulls Kei towards the kitchen. “I told him how worried I was about how sluggish you are,” he says quietly.
“He brought cake.”
Kei tips his head to the side, “Ah?”
“Shortcake, from the place in town you like. A whole one, not just slices,” Tadashi supplies. “I asked him to go get it.”
Kei blinks at him, eyes calculating something behind lowered lashes.
Tadashi wonders what he’s thinking, or if he’s remembering the last time Akiteru was in their apartment. He tugs Kei into the kitchen, where Akiteru watches them both with a look that makes Tadashi think of lost puppies. He has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, both Tsukishima brothers ready to fall at his knees, and he’s going to use that to see Kei stuffed and writhing—the excitement is burning through his bones, much like it did the first time Kei let him tie him up or the first time he’d watched Kei bow and arch his body underneath Akiteru’s shaking hands.
“Won’t you please eat something, Tsukki?” Tadashi wheedles, gesturing to the cake. “He got you this, because we know it’s your favorite.”
Kei eyes Tadashi, then the cake, and then his brother warily. “Not hungry,” he mutters. Tadashi can tell, by the way his mouth twists and his eyes dart around the room that Kei’s figured out that Tadashi has something planned, and he’s starting to worry about it; he’s starting to worry that introducing Akiteru to the equation was the wrong move.
“Not cute,” Akiteru tells Kei, reaching out to grab his brother’s hand. Kei’s cheeks bloom red at the action; it makes Tadashi’s stomach flip and his mouth goes dry as he watches how Akiteru gently rubs his thumb into Kei’s palm.
Tadashi watches as shivers wrack down his boyfriend’s spine and he silently cheers Akiteru on.
“Maybe a little?” Kei relents just as Akiteru brings his hand up to start kissing at bony knuckles. “So let go, niichan.” He turns and starts pulling away.
“No, I think Tadashi and I want to make sure you really eat,” Akiteru muses. He tugs at Kei’s hand, hard, and the blond goes toppling into Akiteru’s lap.
Akiteru snakes his arms around Kei’s waist, hands flat against the thin material of Kei’s plain tee shirt as Kei squirms a bit in his lap, severely unbalanced.
Tadashi cuts a piece of cake for Kei, larger than he knows the blond would serve for himself on a good-appetite day. His stomach does another flip-flop at the thought of Kei not eating all of it.
He hands Kei the plate.
“Fork, Yamaguchi,” Kei intones. He ignores the way Akiteru’s running his hands up and down his stomach, wiggling his knees underneath his own, until his legs are hooked to either side of Akiteru’s knees. He flushes, but says nothing, as Akiteru uses the position to spread both of their thighs open.
“They’re all dirty,” Tadashi lies blithely. He kneels himself in front both brother’s knees. He skims his hands in between Kei’s thighs, petting over the satiny material of Kei’s slacks as he settles between them on his own knees. “Just eat.”
Kei looks at the plate skeptically, then down at Tadashi. “Really?” he asks.
Tadashi rests his cheek sweetly against Kei’s lap, “Mmm, yep,” he murmurs. He nuzzles against Kei’s fly, relishing how the blond’s hips jerk slightly up into his cheek. Tadashi feels Akiteru’s thighs quiver as well, and the older Tsukishima threads his fingers into Tadashi’s hair.
Tadashi looks up and grins lazily, a sex-soaked smirk that makes both brothers, who both are peering down at him with very similar expressions, turn pink. “Eat it with your fingers. Do you want me to show you?” he offers.