Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/11816961. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Natsume_Yuujinchou_|_Natsume's_Book_of_Friends Relationship: Matoba_Seiji/Natsume_Takashi Additional Tags: Ambiguous_Age, Maids, Thighs, Lingerie, Hand_Jobs, Gloves, Come_Shot Stats: Published: 2017-08-16 Words: 1671 ****** Tip (don’t tease) your maid ****** by hakuzo_k Summary Natsume, frustrated with Matoba’s messiness, tells him to hire a maid. So, he does just that. Notes for yume The tightness of the stockings… It’s as if it was on purpose. No. Definitely on purpose. But even so, even with with the nylon elastic impression into his thighs, everything feels so… smooth and nice. Everything provided to Natsume is top quality; that is how this man operates. The navy blue and white maid dress is (at least) decent length, hem and ruffles stopping mid-thigh, just enough for an embarrassing delicate lace garter to peek out. Tugging down on the front of the dress does no good; it only exposes the back of his thighs more than he likes. Ending up in this situation… is embarrassing enough. Natsume remarks on Matoba’s disorder frequently—books and ink and scrolls and crumpled papers scattered from desk to door. It was when Natsume slipped on some papers that he began to scold and berate on the clan head’s incompetence and proceed to gather and organize the mess. “You should hire a maid! I am not doing this every time you make a mess!” “Hm... You’re right. Maybe I should.” It was suspicious how quickly Matoba agreed to the ranting half-hearted suggestion. Natsume sucks in a breath and pouts, thoroughly embarrassed by the get-up he now has to don for this impromptu part time job. The plus side to this is that he does get paid well. (It is the Matoba clan, after all.) With white-gloved fingers, he tugs the black ribbon headband. The points are suspiciously shaped to look like cat ears sitting atop his blond hair. Anyways… Broom in hand and duster in the other, Natsume makes his rounds of the ridiculously large-sized manor. If he moves room to room, fast enough, it’s possible he can outrun the incredulous clan head’s tricks and disruptions. Because of the questionable length of the dress, Natsume makes quite an effort to crouch in it rather than the possibility of exposing his rear and nicely matching silk and lace panties. The straps of the suspender belt would pull tight, digging into flesh, stretching the top of the stockings. He could feel his skin pool around it, accentuating his thighs to be a bit more plush than before. In the end, knees were easier to maneuver in. He could stretch and reach without the elastic tightening. In practice, at least the dress covers just below his ass if he doesn’t extend too far. Natsume is careful when toeing through the manor. No doubt there are clan members or servants that catch a glimpse (they too know of their boss’s eccentricities), but Natsume prefers no audience to this job. Opening to a private study, papers and books scattered everywhere, Natsume exhales. Of course it was going to be on the floor. This chaos was made to surely mock him. When gathering the materials, a flyer catches his eye. A bounty, it looks like. Bottom lip pushed out, Natsume shuffles that in a mix of other irrelevant and misnumbered papers. If Matoba purposely makes messes like this, Natsume has the right to his own spitefulness. Natsume bites the inside of his cheek. The panties keep rising up his butt, but when he tries to fidget to adjust them, the silk fabric instead bunches and brushes his groin. He will just need to tug it into place with his hands every time, then. How tedious! When reaching around to adjust the bunched undergarment, a strong grip takes a hold of his wrist. Natsume was expecting this, but at the same time—what if it wasn’t— “St-Stop!” In the next moment, Natsume is on his back, suspender straps digging into the undersides of his thighs when his legs are pushed to his chest. Hands slide up, snapping one strap against the skin. It’s a quick sting (not harsh, but awakening), and Natsume can’t restrain a small gasp. As suspected, it’s the damned Matoba clan head, clad in his black suit, polished and groomed. As if that was not enough, the ensemble is brazenly topped off with the undeniable scent of a musky-spice cologne. There’s that conniving smirk, fox-like and smooth, finally presented to grace and cause mischief. Natsume braces for the inevitable consequence of teasing, except… Matoba doesn’t say anything, only keeps his hands pressed firmly into exposed skin. He was planning this, wasn’t he? Natsume’s face turns a deep red, brows furrowed and stubborn glare unmoving. Matoba’s hands rub circles up Natsume’s thighs. When reaching the delicate- looking garter, a red eye locks gold, and a finger slips beneath it and up. Embarrassed, but never admitting, Natsume pronounces a small grunt and shies his eyes away. When the sound of the suspender clasps clip off, the blond gasps. From there, Matoba scoops Natsume closer. The navy dress is dragged back when the lower back rests in the man’s lap, ass and thighs propped up. Above, Matoba asserts his pressure, hands keeping clothed legs flush to his maid’s chest. Squeezing and massaging from behind the knee and down, they make it to the offered cheeks. With the legs squeezed and steadied like this, the blond’s crotch is more pronounced, wetness darkening the pink fabric accompanying. Matoba releases a humored breath before slipping a finger beneath the panties’ hem. It sticks at first, but is easily lifted to Natsume’s knees. When the tightness lifts and cool air touches his groin, Natsume calls out in a panic, “H-Hey!” face much more embarrassed and red than thought possible. Thumbs dig into the plush flesh around the groin, pulling at and spreading the butt cheeks. For a moment, Natsume forgets himself, heart stuttering at the intimate and inquisitive touches, and mewls. A thumb circles closer to his taint, pressing up. These sensations are so effective and intense. It must be because of this ridiculous outfit he has to wear. With the softest cotton and the just-right tightness and pretty lingerie… By now, Natsume is already panting and moaning softly. The thumb teases between, up and down… “Ah—!” Shakily, Natsume turns his eyes down, quieting his breathing. Beneath his tailbone he can feel the other’s bulge. Catching Natsume’s gaze, Matoba shifts, bringing his arousal to press deep against Natsume’s taint. Excited and anxious and unsure, Natsume loses his breath. His heart is soaring. For a little bit, he shuts his eyes, overwhelmed by the focused intimacy and attention onto him. The hardness rubs into him, arouses his own. And then… He melts and bends into the lewdness. Blearily blinking open his eyes, gold hazed with shy desire, Natsume focuses on Matoba’s bulge straining against the black trousers for a moment, considering. He swallows pooling saliva. Even with his legs propped against him, he bends and reaches through. Just by pressing his hands against Matoba’s crotch, it is so hot. He admits to himself, he is a little nervous to this. What follows after doesn’t reflect that sentiment. White gloved fingers easily unclasp the button and pinch at the zipper, pulling down. Gold eyes wide and intent, the aroused dick is pulled out. It’s so hot in his hands. It’s scary but… so, so intriguing. Still gripping the man’s arousal, Natsume is pulled closer into his lap. Here he can easily fondle and drag his gloved fingers along the length— “Ah—!” Natsume jolts, tugging up on the arousal. There’s a sharp and wet nip to the skin near his knee. It continues down, more nips and sucks and licks and kisses down his thigh. When lips and tongue and teeth suction harshly down on his inner thigh, near his aching lust, Natsume squeezes and arches into the cock pressing ever more onto him. They need to come soon. The grip on his thighs become harsher, almost to bruise. Natsume’s mind flits between decency and not caring. It’s nice—this shared promiscuity, being desired. When else can he let loose inhibitions and imposed purity? He’ll indulge. He’ll take every piece of what he can, while he feels so invincible and right in his own body. Matoba rocks furiously into Natsume’s gloved hands. They create a tighter, hotter, more humid friction. A red eye glances to the heat and flush and wetness between them to Natsume’s face (disheveled and red and open and vulnerable). A hand leaves a thigh, sliding to Natsume’s arousal to coax and tend. The deliberate touch to his dick makes Natsume’s eyes roll back. “A-Ahh…” His legs lax, opening himself to be handled so expertly. “Ma-...” Almost, he almost, calls out the man’s name. Not now. (Later?) Natsume licks and worries his bottom lip. “Mm… Nhn!” Later… Above, Natsume listens to Matoba’s grunts and gasps. Briefly, and shyly, a golden eye peeks open. His face is a focused contortion, mouth agape to puff out heavy breaths, sweat gathering beneath his fringe and seal and attire at the exertion. His thumbs still press deeply into him, thigh and taint. (Natsume decides he does want bruises, after all.) “Ah... Hahh…” Natsume’s eyes flutter at Matoba’s labored breaths. Close. He’s close. The precum from Matoba’s arousal has thoroughly soaked the white gloves. But, neither complain. Natsume feels the pulsing veins, bulging and needing and ready. Releasing two heavy, stunted gasps and a low groan, Matoba finally reaches his climax. Hot wetness streams onto gloved hands and arms and onto the back of Natsume’s thighs. Just that is enough to unravel Natsume from any other inhibition. Feeling Matoba on him, like this—like that—tips him deep into arousal. The hand on him pumps him through it. The orgasm lasts longer than Natsume anticipates (but doesn’t object to). His own limp hands remain slack on Matoba’s spent dick as the other continues to rock into him, to extend the period of his pleasure before it fades off in dying waves. It’s not long before the man falls atop Natsume. Even so, he loves these hands on him. A week later, Natsume hears of Nanase giving Matoba an earful for losing an original copy of a bounty to be posted. Natsume smiles proudly to himself. Just desserts for teasing a glorified maid. 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