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Kyo watched as Uta shifted slightly against the wall, his arms pulling up to his chest and folding across one another. A faint smirk pulled over his lips as Uta's coat shifted up just enough to tell him everything he needed to know about his discomfort. The telling bulge of his cock against the seam of his pants assured Kyo that everything he'd been doing for months now was coming to fruition.

A wicked little gleam filled his eyes as he eased himself down the wall, squatting there, hands dangling between his own legs. It was a far better view down here anyway. Even when Uta shifted again, his jacket sliding back into place, Kyo could still see everything he'd done to this poor, poor man. They were due to go back on for a very brief encore and he knew he had to keep the fire at a fever pitch if he were to get exactly what he wanted from him tonight. There would be no indecision, no hesitation, only action. It was action or it was all wasted effort because he'd pushed it to the point that Uta would either fall into his bed or he'd wall himself off from Kyo. One way or another, something was happening tonight and Kyo would far prefer it be the former.

They lined up to go back out and Kyo waited until the others were out and then went to his dancers, quietly instructing the two females on what he wanted, if they were willing. The grin that spread over one girl's lips was more than enough to convince him that he was perfectly cool with however this was going to go. He'd be in someone's bed by the end of the night, Uta's or his dancer's, it wouldn't matter in the end; a way to appease the lust he had burning him up from the inside out.

He entered as they started the first encore song, his movements honed to a fine degree, built to force a fever pitch reaction from the crowd. He'd been told it was like seeing a caged animal pace their enclosure, the violence contained, the predator near to being unleashed, and he could honestly find no better comparison in his mind than that.

Sliding his tongue over his lips in a very purposeful manner, he plucked his microphone up off the ground, slinging it over his shoulders, and then allowing the entirety of his voice fill the hall, only picked up by the microphone at a distance. He threw back his head and spread his arms wide, his hips starting a slow circle, pelvis tilting into his every movement.

He spent the rest of the song building everyone up, watching the temperature rise in the faces of every person in the crowd, pushing the emotion of what he was doing outward in a near volatile fashion. The second song, he found his place on the edge of the drum set, perching there and spreading his legs in the most intentional of ways. He heard the collective inhalation of breath, the sigh that was more a groan of pleasure than a release of air from lung. His lips quirked into a self-satisfied smirk as the dancers came to him, circling, but hesitant. He'd only had moments to tell them what he wanted, but they were feeding it perfectly, ramping the swell of lust in the room.

He let the instrumentals take care of the song as they came to him, finally darting in and then away, back once more and he jerked a hand out to grab the one who had smiled at him, hauling her inward and then releasing her wrist, only to plant a foot against her crotch, staring up into her eyes as he pushed slowly. She feigned it more than he was pushing and he went with it, falling back to his place and splaying his arms over the back of the seat, his entire being telling her what to do without saying a single word. She rushed forward again, falling to her knees in front of him and then to her hands as well, crawling the last length between them. She came so close to actually being in the exact position he wanted to emulate and he found himself watching her as he would a lover doing exactly what everything blatantly told of.

When it was time for him to sing again, he grasped the microphone and drew it up from between his legs, coiling the length of it around his neck once, and then smoothly standing, his free hand on her head as he stepped around her. Every movement from there became less and less planned, more and more open. His hips moved with certainty, his desire coiling a pit of fire in his stomach as he moved. Even when he dropped to a crouch in front of the audience, hand sliding down over his crotch, he knew he was in for hell if he didn't find relief after this show. He was so hard he ached, so hard that when he touched for show it became something he couldn't immediately stop himself from doing. His hand grabbed and clutched at his cock, stroked at his erection a few times before he found the effort to pull it away and spring back up, only to slide into pacing his area again.

By the time they were done with one more song, Kyo was ready to slam someone against a wall and have his very sinful way with them. And the moment they exited the stage, he made no bones about it at all, stalking down the hall after Uta, catching the door to his dressing room as he moved to close it. Two steps brought him into the room, one more and he kicked the door closed behind him. He could have kept going, saw the lack of resistance in his prey, but the truth was, he wanted Uta to come to him. Call it vein, call it whatever, but he knew what he wanted and he was going to get it if it were even remotely possible to obtain.

He watched Uta move to the mirror, ignoring him for the moment as he peeled off a few layers of clothing, leaving him in his jeans and his chest bare. It was only then that Uta spoke, the words painting faint surprise upon Kyo's visage. "You won a month ago, you know. Could have had me then and yet you spent this extra time torturing both of us. But see, now you've pushed too far." He turned around, leaning back against the counter. "See, I've already give it up for you." His hand slid down his chest, dipped under the waistband of his pants, and came back out glistening wet. "I think you miscalculated how interested I am."

Kyo's lips curved upward as he stalked forward, insistent and utterly concentrated on his target. "It's you who doesn't understand... you who miscalculated." He came to a halt in front of Uta, his eyes trailing over that wet hand and then down his sweat-slicked chest to the waist of his pants. "It'll be easier this way, for both of us." He cocked his head, flicking his eyes up to Uta's face and then back down to his pants. "I want those pretty lips on my cock and I know that's what you've been thinking since we left the stage tonight. I made certain of it."

Uta choked a little and after a hesitation that seemed to speak of ensuring Kyo was utterly serious, he dropped to his knees. Kyo's pants were open quickly, all the material moved aside to get to his cock even faster. A low moan left him as Uta leaned in, taking him into his mouth eagerly. It was all lips and tongue, the gentle drag of teeth, and no hands. The sound of Uta's zipper a few moments later told him why.

He slid one hand down into Uta's hair, pushing the long black locks back and holding it tight as he began to cant his hips. It wasn't so much thrusting as it was the same swirl of his hips he used on stage. Over the years he'd found it went over so much better as a way for him to move, to be in control, when his cock was in someone's mouth. And here - with Uta, where he wanted to be as in control as possible - it made the most sense. The drag of tongue over the underside of his cock made him groan and the gasping startled breath of his lover drove him higher.

"Uta," he purred out, letting the hair fall away from his hand as he reached for the counter instead, holding on with both hands as he began to actually push his full length into his mouth. A certain amount of awe welled up inside of him when Uta didn't even gag, when he just took every harsh thrust like a champ.

The jingle of his belt buckle told Kyo what Uta was doing, that he was enjoying this so much he couldn't resist touching himself as he pleasured Kyo. Watching himself in the mirror, he gripped the counter harder, staring into his own eyes as he ramped up, hips thrusting forward again and again, harder and harder. He watched his own face dissolve into a mask of pure bliss and then closed his eyes as his orgasm wracked him, his hips jerking forward with every spurt, surging down Uta's throat until he was empty, drained... complete.

Sinking back and then crouching down, he leaned in, grasping Uta's chin in his hand. Their lips met and he shoved his tongue into his mouth, seeking his own taste there, cleaning it right out of his mouth as he slid his hand down Uta's chest to his cock. Their hands joined over his length, moving rapidly, Kyo's thumb sliding over the head on each upward stroke until he heard the nearly-pained mewl crack from Uta's throat and then warmth splash over his knuckles.

Kyo stroked until he was sure the other was empty and only then did he pull away, settle back and smirk at the other as he licked the cum from his hand. Shifting his clothing back into place, he stood up, eyes dark as he breathed out the only relevant words given the situation. "You know where I'll be." And, with only that, he was gone, through the door and away before he could receive a single word in reply.