Diruktober Day 20: Leader

     Diruktober is a DIR EN GREY themed inktober challenge by re_be_ka_f. I chose to use them as writing prompts to join in on the fun. 

It wasn’t often I was able to accompany him. I always loved to watch him work, though. His cadence among the others was relaxed, almost blending in the background to silently ensure everything operated as it should. 

The smooth rumble of a directing voice cradled me like the rhythm of a long train ride. I fell asleep among riffs repeated ad nauseum punctuated with band banter.

I woke far into the evening, my nest on the couch in the corner undisturbed. He was alone now. It felt like a sin to rouse when he fallen so deep into his meticulous efforts. It felt taboo to approach him when all that my sleep-gripped brain could squeeze out was thoughts of how much I respected him paired with one of the few charms I knew to pull a working man free from the siren song of his career.

Even then, knowing their leader—my leader— I couldn’t be sure he would accept those charms. It was a struggle I’d grappled with since I first met him years ago, not wanting to tarnish a budding friendship. 

Now, armed with desperate ideas that I could lay any blame in rejection on sleepwalking, I stood. 

I walked over to him, unsuspecting in the comfortable cloak of the early morning hours. My nerves grew with each footstep, and I heard a small  “hm?” as I came near.

It made me freeze, but I had to react now or risk losing my chance.

My shaking hands studied themselves onto his shoulders from behind to the sound of a warm “Hey.” A hint of surprise in his voice pushed me not to let him question too far. He betrayed that voice in reaching to pat one of my hands in a friendly greeting. If only he could read what was running through my mind, a desperate desire to engage him in a way I’ve never seen him before.

My hands slid further down, sliding over his chest as I bent over the back of the chair to show my sympathy in the crook of his neck. 

“Still working?” 

My heart weighed heavy in my chest, fighting in my rib cage. I was certain he could feel that.

“Still working,” he confirmed, his expressive voice was all I had to go on, and it was shifting to uncertainty. I’d affected the notoriously composed guitarist, at least to some extent, as I begin to press my lips against his inked neck.

In that moment he fell silent, both of us deciding if and how we would commit to a decision imminently made. I found my answer when his head tilted to welcome me, and with a smile, almost laughing, he murmured, 

“What are you doing?” 

“When is the last time you took a break?” I kissed the words into his skin, my hands weaving fingers across his front and between buttons from where he was slumped into his chair. 

He sat up as if he intended to face me. I pulled him back to the chair, moving to be able to stand before him instead. He was never challenged, always in control, and yet when I arched to kiss his lips, he responded with a desperation that displayed a mixture of his need to be the one doing it all and his eagerness to accept. I reveled in the fact that it was a greater enthusiasm than I could have imagined. 

Lips parted for speaking tongues in his hand reach to study me at my waist, pulling me in closer and closer. He couldn’t seem to let go of his guiding nature, not even when I had no choice but to submit and fall into his lap.

I straddled him and his cush office chair, lips never parting. I took a silent moment in the taste of his tongue to thank the universe. Perhaps he had been thinking the same as I had all these years. I’d ask later.

Now my hip started to move and grind against him as I pulled back to watch his face. His lips were wet, parted, and plush. He looked up at me his fluster evident as he search for something to say. 

The only sound that left him instead was a shivery groan of surprise when I pushed myself against the growing heat in the front of his pants. I could feel the outline of his struggle against them. 

It beckoned me to reach between us in order to relieve him, allowing his erection to spring forth, covered only in the much looser fabric of his boxers. 

 

His hand, too, would reach between us, but with every push he made to return the favor, I would grab his hands in my own. 

"This is your time to relax," I reminded him. 

It took a few tries for him to finally lean back against the back of his chair again, and I found myself drawn more and more to the idea of undressing right there in the studio. I didn't have to leave him to pull my shirt over my head, abandoning it to the side, and it wasn't long after that I was sliding off of him to remove the rest of my clothing as quickly as possible. 

He took the opportunity too, to slide his jeans down his hips and free himself the rest of the way for me. For me. 

The way his hand rested at the back of my neck as I crawled over him for a final time made me shiver. I spread my legs wide to accommodate him and lower myself onto his length, just as I'd always imagined him in my idle taboo daydreaming. He let out a strained sigh as if he'd been holding his breath as I felt him enter me. It was as I started to roll my hips in cautious but steady waves that he would let his head fall back over the back of the chair and squeeze me. Both of us bashful but eager. 

Even when I began to build up to sharp bounces, grasping at his chest for a way to steady myself, it was tinged with a sense that we might find ourselves embarrassed about it later. It added to the fleeting moment, living in what I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to grasp again. 

He came inside of me as a natural conclusion when we had nowhere to go from our building lust. Settling into comfort and growing faster and harder had one peak, one end. With little warning but a sensation of fingers digging in my hip, his cock swelled to an almost painful degree, the rhythm between us faltered for a moment before he let out a telltale groan and I could feel his heartbeat in the pulse between my legs. 

It took a moment to catch my breath, though his warmth penetrated throughout my body. Still nestled inside of me as the bounce of my hips slowed to a stop, he cupped my face to give me a chaste kiss in which we faced one another for the first time as a pair. Had it changed the nature of our relationship? 

He laughed, "I can't believe it finally happened." 

He bit his lip back in a grin as I lifted myself free of him and nestled my face into his neck, sharing that laugh with him while hiding my visible fluster. 

"Let's go home, hm?" he beckoned, rubbing a hand along my back. I nodded and got up to get dressed. After wondering if I'd be picking up my clothes in shame, I couldn't help a giddy bounce as I wiggled back into them. When I looked up, I found him watching me, biting back a smile as usual. 

That's when I knew this might work out after all.