Random my loveprize in viewfinder stories.

Oral Fixation Raised to the Power of n by:foxghost

It begins, innocently enough, at a party, with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

It's the kind of gallery opening where the cheese plate must taste of regret, what with everyone giving the table a wide berth, and where the sugar is in free-flowing fountain format - which is how Asami got Takaba to agree to play arm-candy in the first place. Takaba's busy with a chocolate dipped banana and a glass of ice wine when he's attacked unawares.

Takaba is used to Asami Ryuichi's hovering, usually visible as a tall blur just out of focus out of range, and he's somewhat cognisant of the dangers that may bring to whomever he chooses to flirt with at these things so he tends to keep an eye out. But Asami plays social butterfly reasonably well and it's not often he alights on Takaba, maybe passes by with a fresh drink or an introduction or a slice of cheesecake when he sees that Takaba is getting bored thrice in a night; this time he just brings himself, parks at Takaba's hip like a ship at anchor as he cups an opposite elbow with a large hand, angling him for a kiss on the cheek so wet and open-mouthed it's on the high end of obscene with a hundred and fifty people in the same room.

There's sticky, sweet wine jostled all over Takaba's fingers, and he's sure he looks absolutely scandalised, but Asami's already moved along to make small talk with someone who's trying so hard not to say anything weird she looks like she's about to lay an egg. Takaba can only stare at his back, bewildered.

It's Kirishima who walks up to Takaba within twenty seconds, attentive with a moist towelette and a fresh drink and a large plate full of miniature cakes before he's back to blending into the walls, or the crowd, whichever comes first.

Takaba's left alone to munch on the cakes in a haze of fuming indignance: what the fuck was that all about?

Asami's constantly stepping into what Takaba considers his personal space like he owns it, touching him all the time in private like he owns him, so their boundaries have always been a bit fucked.

Takaba's not entirely sure yet if all of it is intentional pushing or Asami's just grown up foreign, but he's decided by now that it doesn't matter. He's settled somewhere between rebellion and resignation, but he barely lifts an eyebrow when Asami barges into his time and space, having gotten used to whatever borders they have between them changing daily like the Middle East.

It's Saturday afternoon, and naturally Asami is working and so is Takaba, cropping and lining up photographs because professionals sometimes take too many shots per minute and his sensei can be a total slob. It's up to Takaba to tweak things so models look like they're standing on an even floor and their skin isn't blue or green but somewhere reasonably white-balanced.

Asami's not opposed at all to sharing his oversized L-shaped desk, and as further bait he's bought a second one of those 170,000 yen ergonomic chairs with a mesh back and lumbar support. None of that is helping though, because Asami's using Takaba as a stress toy and no matter how much faster his wifi is, it is not worth this level of sexual harassment.

"Will you just -" Takaba protests, as Asami reaches over to tweak at a nipple for what feels like the Nth time today.

"Shh - I'm trying to think," says Asami, staring at his laptop screen like it contains the secret of the universe and not one of Kirishima's overly complicated spreadsheets.

Takaba hisses back, "Well, I'm trying to work!"

Asami just goes to fondle the top of Takaba's thighs instead, which is an improvement, but still distracting.

The next time Takaba has to bat fingers away from his nipple, Asami just grabs him by the wrist and drags Takaba into his lap, where Asami can roll up Takaba's shirt and lick at his chest, to run his tongue over the visible bones of his ribcage and to suck on his nipples until they perk and redden and point for a full fifteen minutes before putting him back. It is both amazing how casual it all is, and very disappointing, as Takaba gets to sit back into a chair that no longer feels comfortable and like lounging on a cloud but rather like levitation torture.