Offside

from the Sniper Slut in Tokyo Series
by scribblemoose

"I still don't get it."

"It's perfectly simple," said Squall. "There weren't enough players between him and the goal when the ball was passed to him."

"But there were four!" Irvine protested.

Squall gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yohji?"

Yohji draped one lanky arm around Irvine's shoulder. "It's like this, see-"

His eyes met Irvine's and an unmistakable heat flared between them.

"Yeah?" said Irvine, and then they were kissing, long and sensuous, hands on asses and snaking under clothing, making little grunting noises.

Squall and Aya exchanged exasperated looks.

"Ken's about to take the penalty," said Aya. "If you miss a goal he'll never forgive you."

Yohji took no notice, until Aya took a handful of hair and tugged.

"Ow! Bastard."

"Watch the game, Kudoh," said Aya.

"Yeah," said Squall, with a sidelong look at the mussed and grinning Irvine. "You too, Kinneas."

"It's my birthday," said Irvine complacently. "I can do what I like."

"So long as you don't mind getting arrested," grunted Aya.

"Don't tell me making out's illegal in this weird country."

"It depends how many clothes you have on," said Aya.

Irvine smirked.

"Besides, we're frightening the children," whispered Yohji, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Irvine turned to see two boys behind them, one with particularly fetching blond hair brushing his shoulders, a wicked gleam to his eyes.

They were holding hands.

"So cute!" he whispered back to Yohji, and they snickered until Aya glared at them some more.

They watched the pitch for a while; Ken was psyching himself up, grinding a fist into one palm in a way that was unnervingly similar to the way he psyched himself up for a mission. It might seem like a friendly match between two teams of junior team coaches to anyone else, but to Ken it was a match like any other. He was very much playing to win.

"So, he gets a free kick because there were too many guys in the way when the other guy scored the goal?"

There was a chorus of groans of "Irvine!", and even Yohji shook his head sadly.

"That was ages ago," he explained carefully. "At the other end of the pitch. And it wasn't a goal."

"It went in the net, though," said Irvine.

"But there weren't enough defenders in the box," said Squall. "That's the whole point."

"So..." Irvine scratched his head.

"And that's nothing to do with the penalty. The penalty's because of the foul in the box."

"The box is real important, ain't it?" said Irvine, with a grin. "Seems whatever happens in there can get you in trouble."

Yohji sniggered.

"Just watch," said Aya, in the tone which was particularly hard to disobey.

So they watched.

Ken put the ball clear over the wall of defenders, curving it with incredible skill to sail clear past the diving goalkeeper and land in the corner of the net. There was yelling and stamping, and Ken was momentarily swamped by celebrating team mates as the whistle blew for half time.

"He gets to make out," said Irvine, sulkily.

"I've got an idea," said Yohji.

The others looked at him, with expressions ranging from hopeful interest to weary caution.

"Just something I remember from a mission once," said Yohji. "Follow me."

*******

After a few half-hearted protests from the others, Yohji led them past the refreshment stands to a dark, dusty corner near the main entrance. For a moment Irvine wondered what on earth Yohji was aiming for, but then he spotted a tiny sliver of light, probably invisible except to keen sniper-eyes. Mostly hidden in the gloom, there was a door.

"It leads through to the changing rooms," Yohji explained, deftly flicking the door open with his wire, even through there was no discernable handle on this side. "Amongst other places."

He led them through the door and into a narrow but well lit corridor. The half-time chatter of the players drifted up from one end; Yohji led them in the opposite direction: around a bend, up some stairs and finally through another door.

He turned on a light as they entered; it was a small but lavishly furnished room, featuring several huge sofas, lots of cushions and a well-equipped bar.

"VIP suite," said Yohji. "The exclusive property of one Takatori Reiji."

Aya growled.

"Steady, tiger, he's not here. He's off in Europe, remember? So I figure he won't be using his privileges, will he? And see," he picked up a remote from the arm of one of the sofas, pressed a button. A window appeared in the middle of one wall. "We can even watch the game after." He winked at Irvine. "Or during."

"During what?" said Squall.

Yohji laughed. "Well, this for starters," he said, and kissed Squall hard on the mouth, fingers winding in his hair with a firm tug.

Irvine shrugged his duster off, watching, captivated, as Yohji ravished Squall's lips, nibbling and kissing and slipping his hand inside Squall's sweater to rub across his abs. Squall hissed, plunging a hand down his own pants to straighten out his rapidly stiffening cock.

"You're practically drooling," Aya informed him.

"Aren't you?" said Irvine. Of course Aya wasn't, but he had a definite glint in his eye. "They're so pretty."

Aya conceded that point with a nod.

Irvine tossed his duster over a the back of a chair, and lowered himself onto the nearest sofa. He patted the soft plush beside him.

Aya raised an eyebrow.

"C'mere," said Irvine.

Aya stripped his sweater off, then knelt on the sofa next to Irvine. Clutched his thigh with one hand, his shoulder with the other and kissed him. Plunged his tongue into his mouth, pressing him back against the plush couch as his long, lean legs straddled Irvine's thighs. It was quiet after the noisy roar of the stadium, just wet sounds of kissing, soft moans and that funny little purring noise Aya made, probably without even realising. Irvine lay back and let Aya take control, squirming happily under him as his vest was stripped off, then his boots, socks, belt and jeans, Aya stroking each newly emerging bit of flesh with firm, rough hands. Somehow he must have managed to get his own clothes off too, because before Irvine knew it his cock was pressing hard against one of it's favourite friends, Aya's slender, elegant erection sliding up across it as they ground against each other.

Then there were hands, more than just Aya's, rubbing at his shoulders and snaking through his hair.

"We're all yours, Cowboy," Yohji drawled. "Name your pleasure."

Irvine grinned broadly. "That's quite a choice for a boy to have to make all alone."

"We could give you suggestions," offered Squall. "Like, we could all take you at once."

"Or we could suck you dry while you lie back and watch the game," said Yohji.

"Or you could take us one at a time," came Aya's deep, quiet voice, his cock twitching hard against Irvine's.

So many choices.

But he knew what he wanted. "One at a time," he said. "Yohji first."

"I'm honoured," said Yohji, watching in delight as Irvine peeled his pants open.

They were each different, each wonderful in their own way. Yohji was pure hedonism, permitting any touch, trying anything once, wiggling his ass up as Irvine sank slowly into him, growling as Irvine tugged on his hair. Coming in a rush over Irvine's fingers, and licking it off eagerly.

Squall was love; soft, familiar pleasure, fingers in hair and soft breath puffing against his neck, legs wrapped tight around his waist. Coming in long spurts between their bellies, a hand between them spreading it about.

Aya was pure lust, angry and focused, fucking hard and fast and on his knees, jerking himself as Irvine found Yohji and Squall standing close, idly stroking second hard ons, taking it in turns to kiss him.

Finally Aya shot his load all over the red plush, like a mark of territory. Irvine pulled out and stroked himself swiftly to completion, the first stream of white a stripe across Aya's back, the second falling on Squall's twitching cock, the third on Yohji's waiting tongue and lips.

Spent, he fell back on the couch; Yohji snuggled into one side, Squall the other, Aya sat beside them (but surreptitiously stretching around Yohji to stroke the back of Irvine's neck), and they watched the rest of the game through a slowly fading haze of afterglow.

"So...." said Irvine, after a long while.

"Mmm?" said Squall.

"What was the offside rule again?"

There were a lot of groans and Irvine was whapped with many cushions.

And then Squall patiently began to explain again.

"You need to have at least two defenders in the box when the striker passes to-"

Irvine sat back with a very contented smile on his face and listened to Squall's voice, convinced he'd never understand, but really not caring in the least.

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