dusk037: (*pensive*)
[personal profile] dusk037
First things first... a little story time. I was in a big slump writing for this exchange, and inspiration struck only less than a week before deadline. On my way home from a failed attempt at being adult, I heard an old OPM song (OPM = Original Pinoy/Philippine Music) which set the wheels turning. That song is called 'magasin', and you can learn more about it by clicking this. The links leads to an English translation. It wouldn't make much sense listening without knowing what it means, since it's sung in Filipino, but the lyrics pretty much summarizes the entire fic. ;) Even if it was the first time I've ever written fic about A.B.C-Z, I strongly felt they would suit the story revolving around the song. Also, someone's pretty face solidified my resolve for this fic. Click for Goseko. So, have at it. I hope you enjoy.

....

Title: magasin
Pairing: Kawai Fumito/Goseki (Kou)ichi; Totsuka Shota/Hashimoto Ryosuke
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Genderswitch, crack.
Summary: Of all places to meet (again), Kawai definitely didn’t expect it to be... here.
Word Count: ~1900
Author's Note: Written for the 2014 summer smut exchange at [livejournal.com profile] je_fqfest, originally posted here.

I tried. I hope you find something to enjoy here, [livejournal.com profile] orangegreenlove.
Sending all the love and sparkles to my wonderful beta (and cheerleader), [livejournal.com profile] xingphonic. Thank you for putting up with me. ♥ ♥
I apologize for ruining your life by making you read this, [livejournal.com profile] defiancebyfire. Thank you for your wonderful suggestions; you are brilliant and ilu. ♥


There’s a question on the tip of Totsuka’s tongue as he rings up his customer’s purchase, but as he manages to hold it in, a strange not-moan comes out instead. His customer is thankfully in too much of a rush to leave, so Totsuka doesn’t have to make up an excuse beyond keeping his hands busy wrapping up the magazine. He smiles a strained smile while waiting for the customer to leave, the last greeting “thank you, come again,” hanging in the air after the door clicks shut.

“Hasshi―” Totsuka starts, glaring at Hashimoto, now that the costumer has left.

The younger man just looks smug even as he’s crouched underneath the counter, beginning to nuzzle at Totsuka’s crotch again. Totsuka huffs and retaliates by walking away. What Totsuka actually does when he steps away from the counter is flip the sign at the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. He draws the blinds with intent as he goes around the store, picking up bits and pieces of the clutter accumulated throughout the day.

It doesn’t take too long until hands grab him from behind and Totsuka is shoved into the nearest pillar, Hashimoto kissing him senseless, the younger man’s lips demanding and fierce. Totsuka opens up to it, starts responding in kind, but suddenly he pulls himself away from the kiss, and this time it is Hashimoto’s turn to glare.

The glare from Hashimoto’s eyes melts away as Totsuka looks at him with a mix of gentleness and a bit of reprimand. He takes Hashimoto by the hand and leads him upstairs, to where Totsuka keeps a bed.



Kawai Fumito steps out of the bookstore and holds his purchase close. He walks as fast as his legs would let him, closing the distance from here to his apartment with anticipation and disbelief warring within him. He remembers stepping into the bookstore after work to check out the book Tatsumi-san kept on raving about, and getting the shock of his life at the sight of a familiar face―Goseki Kou on the cover a magazine, face perfectly made and not a hair out of place.

Kawai stood stunned, staring at the picture Gosekou made. It’s so far from the unkempt, bare-faced Gosekou he knew from three years ago. He took a copy from the rack, the book he came to look for completely forgotten, and went straight to the counter, where he ends up thanking his lucky stars that there was no queue at the time.

The door to his apartment closes behind him, and Kawai breathes deeply to calm the wild beating of his heart. His hands tremble slightly as he begins to unwrap his purchase, and that’s when a voice startles him.

“It’s been awhile, Kawai-kun,” Goseki Kou greets him. She’s perched on his couch, every inch as beautiful and as elegant as the image he saw earlier at the bookstore, if not more.

Kawai gapes at her, once again stunned into silence, until he finds his own voice. “Wha—how’d you get in, Gocchi?”

Gosekou laughs in a rich velvet voice. “Some things never change, does it? Spare key, of course,” she replies with a cute wink. She rises from her seat and takes Kawai by his chin, just a gentle caress, but the pull of it is stronger than anything Kawai has ever known, in the years he and Gosekou had ever shared.

Kawai forgets he ever saw an image of Gosekou on a magazine (and even bought the thing) with the very person right in front of him, her breath now warm against his cheek. It sends shivers down his spine, Gosekou whispering, “Take me to bed.” There’s no question in there, just a simple statement that Kawai would be loathe not to heed.

Kawai closes the distance between their lips, his advance gentle if a little hesitant, and Gosekou allows him. The hand she has on Kawai’s chin moves to the back of his neck, making lazy patterns between the small hairs and his skin there. One arm loops around Gosekou’s waist, and Kawai breaks the kiss before anything deeper happens, before he gets too distracted. He’s bending down and back up, allowing the momentum to lift Gosekou into his arms, making good of carrying her towards the bedroom. Kawai lays her down gently on his bed, his eyes on her the entire time, and he has to be able to feel the way Gosekou suppresses a shiver at his stare.

“It really has been a while,” Kawai belatedly agrees. He’s still awestruck; his fingers trailing along Gosekou’s face, light and reverent, as though Gosekou might disappear at any given moment.

Gosekou touches Kawai’s cheek, then, guiding the man down her lips as she kisses him, deep and soulful. Her hands roam over Kawai’s body, from the strands of his hair, to toned arms made pale by always being in long-sleeved suits, down to his hips and the expanse of his back. Kawai knows to raise his arms when Gosekou tugs at his shirt, being as helpful as possible, and Kawai lifts a hand to Gosekou’s hair once his shirt is completely tugged off. He hovers over Gosekou as the kiss breaks naturally, Kawai loving the way Gosekou’s hair is loose and flowy, splayed over the pillows.

“I―” Kawai starts. Gosekou is quick to silence him with a finger, though, and something in her eyes makes Kawai shut his mouth. She toys with the buttons of her blouse, making a show of removing it one by one, and Kawai’s eyes widen at the revelation of a black lace camisole beneath the crisp, smart top Gosekou is wearing.

Gosekou notices, and she smiles up at Kawai. “Like what you see?”

Kawai can only nod, and as distracted as he was, Gosekou manages to flip them over. She straddles Kawai’s chest, allows him to undress her the rest of the way. Her breath hitches when Kawai runs his hands on her ass, her thighs, and she moves up to Kawai's face to show him what she wants and how she wants it. She barely bites back a moan when his tongue replaces his hands on her inner thigh, all the way up to her clit. Kawai’s tongue does wonders, and the sounds Gosekou makes are appreciative. Soon his fingers add to the stimulation, following the path where Gosekou’s essence is coming from, finding her slick and wide open.

Gosekou touches her breasts through her camisole, and Kawai wants nothing more than to watch her do away with the fabric. He sees her legs quiver with the effort to not push down, and Kawai palms her ass in a disguised effort to support her position. There’s no rhyme or warning when Gosekou climaxes under Kawai’s ministrations, but he feels her shudder and another wave of her essence hits his tongue anew. He laps it all up, cleans Gosekou up the best he could, and he shares her taste as she makes her way down to meet his lips in a lazy kiss.

“Mmm,” Gosekou hums as she slowly comes to. She feels Kawai’s arousal on her side, still clothed and very much obvious. She smirks at the man, her words playful. “Since you’ve been good…”

It’s his turn to moan with Gosekou’s hand tracing the outline of his pants, too slowly for the wound-up ball of tension he’s become. “Gocchi, please,” he begs.

“You’re forgetting your manners, Kawai-kun. That’s Goseki-sama to you,” Gosekou chides.

It’s a testament to how much he wants Gosekou, too, easily switching to the honorific. “Please, Goseki-sama.”

Gosekou finally relents and undoes the fly of Kawai’s pants in one swift motion. She goes down and kisses Kawai’s dick through his underwear, before moving to tug both pieces of clothing away. He lifts his hips and he’s free. Gosekou licks her lips, looking straight into Kawai’s eyes as she sucks at the tip of his dick, going slowly all the way down. It’s taking Kawai all of his willpower to not thrust up into the heat of Gosekou’s mouth and into her throat. His efforts are rewarded by Gosekou bobbing her head up and down faster; her hand making up the difference and twisting in the way he likes so much, surprised that she even remembers.

His noises fuel Gosekou on, her effort showing with the sweat beginning to glisten on her face, and Kawai wonders if she’d let him come like this, in her mouth, or if she has other plans. He needn’t wonder when she releases his cock with a pop, the thought quickly replaced with awe as she whips a condom from seemingly out of nowhere and rolling it on him.

Gosekou moves above him, using her hand to guide his cock in, waiting until she’s fully seated before testing it out with a roll of her hips. She leans forward so they’re chest to chest, and Kawai’s hands find their way up Gosekou’s hips, tracing the fabric of her camisole. She gives a wordless consent and Kawai undoes the ties of her lingerie, uncaring of where it lands and focusing on the plumpness of Goseko’s breasts on his hands, giving her nipples a light pinch. Gosekou moves faster, and Kawai keeps up pace with his own thrusts meeting her halfway. Their rhythm becomes erratic, and there’s a second where Kawai thinks he hears Gosekou say “Fumi.”

The next thing Kawai knows is Gosekou picking up after herself, pants already back on. She finishes up putting on her camisole and slipping her blouse over it, her hair pulled back into as neat a ponytail as her bare hands would allow. Gosekou dons sunglasses, casually picked up from Kawai’s dresser, as his brain catches up with the proceedings. He begins to ask questions, to which Gosekou shushes him with a kiss. She waves goodbye and takes her leave.



The bell by the door rings, signaling the arrival of a customer. A wild-haired Hashimoto pops out from beneath the counter to greet the newcomers.

“Oh, is Totsuka-san not around?” the customer asks.

“I believe he’s busy at the moment,” Hashimoto tells the customer. “You can help yourself, though. Just knock on the counter when you’re ready with your purchase,” he continues with a strange smile.

“It’s okay, I can just come back anyway. I only wanted to see the titles you sell,” he tells Hashimoto.

Hashimoto shrugs, “Sure.” And promptly dives back underneath.

Tsukada Ryoichi claps Kawai’s shoulder, “We should go.”

Kawai doesn’t take heed. He browses the aisle where he first saw Gosekou on the cover of a magazine, keeping at it until he finds her face again. It’s a lot different from the first one he bought at this bookstore, but it’s still Gosekou gracing the covers. He’s long since recovered from the shock of seeing her on a magazine, and the double shock upon seeing the magazine title (a monthly serial for adults). He leaves the copy alone, and Tsukada wonders what on earth is on Kawai’s mind again.

As if sensing Tsukada’s impending ire, Kawai explains. “Right here is the same as the one Gosekou left on my coffee table. With her face and her phone number written on the centerfold.”

The gears start turning on Tsukada’s mind and he laughs.

“We’re going,” Kawai has the courtesy to call out to the store’s owner, with no response. They step out; waggling his eyebrows, Tsukada flips the sign at the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and locks the door for good measure.

Date: 2014-08-17 06:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] orangegreenlove.livejournal.com
Did I mention I love this? Because I doooooooooo.

Is this seriously the first time you wrote ebi? You did them soooo good! ♥

Date: 2014-08-17 10:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dusk037.livejournal.com
Yup, this is my first ebi fic; I only started liking them around Never my Love, but I've never written them until fqf. I crammed on reading materials (aka magazine interviews and fic), and choice clips. For science.. /____\

I'm really glad you liked it, because I read a lot of yours and I don't think I could measure up to that, amazing as your fics already are.

Date: 2014-08-18 07:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] orangegreenlove.livejournal.com
For science and great justice! All research ever should include Goseko's pretty face XD we'd all be professors in no time.
Have you been able to find all the older videos? Since a lot of links have died in recent years.

Thank you! ♥ I still need to learn how to write plot, I'm mostly a porn writer XDD

Date: 2014-08-24 09:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] defiancebyfire.livejournal.com
i'm going to cry now.

also, /sparkles intensely in your general direction~

Date: 2014-08-24 11:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dusk037.livejournal.com
Sobs. I'm sorry. orz /offers tissues

💖💖💖

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