Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/6929893. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: IDOLiSH7_(Video_Game) Relationship: Izumi_Iori/Kujou_Tenn Character: Izumi_Iori_(IDOLiSH7), Kujou_Tenn Additional Tags: Boys_in_Skirts, Blow_Jobs, Classroom_Sex, Alternate_Universe_-_High School, School_Uniforms, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering Stats: Published: 2016-05-22 Words: 2281 ****** skirt chaser ****** by seigyoku Summary in which ten has a little too much fun with iori in a skirt. Notes working title: w h y i s t EN IO mmmmmmy g O TO???? Oporn? ? prEMISE: I READ A PIXIV NOVEL ABT IORI IN A MAID OUTFIT FOR SOME SCHOOL FAIR AND TEN VISITS THE CAFE AND DOES :^) WINK WONK :^) THINGS TO IORI UNDERNEATH THE TABLE :^) AND IM yeah so this is a shitTY sp i n oFF??? ten has Magically Coerced iori into wearing the girls' uniform, which i wanna say is typical brown cardigan, plaid skirt, and kneehighs bUT Again MAgically empty classroom, kujou "leave the skirt on" ten trying to elicit every possible noise from iori, iori MUFFLING BC "FIK MAN I DONT WANNA GET BUSTED 4 tHIS SHIT" but also lowkey getting a thriLL OUT OF IT y E E A H izumi iori in a fucKCING sKI RT IS MMMY JAM See the end of the work for more notes "Kujou-san, we really shouldn't--" Iori manages to gasp out before Ten's spreading his legs open, smooth hands trailing their way up his thighs and pushing up the skirt. He tries to shift against the table, but Ten's hands are firm and hold him in place. Iori wants to say that he regrets this , letting Ten coerce him into wearing the girls' uniform, and yet he can't. Not when Ten's almost reverently ghosting his mouth across the exposed expanse of skin starting at his knee-highs to the hem of the short skirt. "Are we done here, Kujou-san? Surely this should be enough," he manages to bite out, but is unable to hide the shakiness in his exasperated sigh or the sharp inhale that leaves his lips as Ten presses a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh. Ten's thumbs stroke at the pale sensitive skin of his inner thighs and it takes all of Iori's power to tamp down any noises threatening to spill from his mouth. "Of course we're not done," Ten smirks from between his legs. "Did you think I'd let such a perfect opportunity go to waste?" he murmurs, breath hot against Iori's skin, as he trails kisses upwards punctuating each word. His mouth is dangerously close to his dick and Iori is near shaking from anticipation, need, and who knows what else. Ten was the only person who could make him this way, the only person who could make him lose all semblance of self-control and restraint and just fill him up with so much want. "Besides, look." A slender finger trails up the length of his dick, straining against his pink lace panties. Ten’s nail catches on the grooves in the fabric, and the mere sensation of it has Iori clutching at the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip. Iori can't hold back the soft sigh that escapes him this time, and it echoes in the empty classroom, afternoon sun lazily flooding in. Ten chuckles lowly, before dipping close to his ear. "You're already this wet, Iori. Were you just going to go home like this?" Ten's voice dips even lower, and Iori shudders at the feel of Ten's breath against his ear, the fingertip trailing up and down his clothed length-- "How shameful ." Before Iori can even pull himself together to respond, Ten's slipping the lacy panties off his hipbones and past his ankles, only to slip them into his pocket with a smirk. "Sit forward," Ten commands and Iori wordlessly obeys, the metal of the desk cold against his bare skin. Ten hikes up the skirt even more and gingerly tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, before his head dips down again and his mouth is around Iori's dick. "Ah--" Iori muffles a moan with the sleeve of the cardigan, eyes closed shut as he feels Ten take him deeper, deeper-- the heat is unbearable, and Iori wants to do nothing more than to thrust up and into Ten’s mouth, but Ten's grip on his thighs is hard enough to bruise. There probably will be bruises tomorrow, and Iori has never been more thankful for the existence of boys' uniform slacks. Ten only takes him further at that, with each noise escaping Iori spurring him on. It takes all of Iori’s remaining self-control not to tangle his hands in Ten’s hair and push him down even further, but there’s no need for that when he feels Ten’s lips hit the base of his cock. And then Ten swallows around him- - and Iori can’t stop the moan that’s ripped from him as he tosses his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy as he’s lost in the slick heat of Ten’s mouth and in all of the wet noises filling the empty classroom. “Kujou-san, please, please --” Iori manages out as he watches Ten’s head bob up and down between his legs. He’s so, so close, and he wants nothing more than to finish this and exit before they get caught, because Iori doesn’t quite have confidence in his ability to stay quiet anymore. Not when he’s like this already, just from Ten’s mouth, and especially not if Ten decides take it one step further. He knows Ten loves it when he begs, but much to his dismay Ten pulls his lips off of his dick with an obscene pop . “If you thought I was going to let you off that easily, you thought wrong,” Ten sighs, shaking his head in mock disappointment. Ten licks his swollen lips, and Iori’s breath catches in his throat as he watches the movement, deliberate and painfully slow. “Did you think I was just going to suck you off and let you go home?” Ten’s voice is low and dangerous, eyes glinting with amusement. Iori doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response and narrows his eyes at Ten, still between his legs. Ten only sighs again, before standing up. He trails a hand down Iori’s arm, and lithe fingers encircle his wrist. “How selfish of you, Iori. Did you forget about me?” Ten murmurs, before moving Iori’s hand to his own member, straining against his uniform pants. Iori takes in a sharp inhale at just how hard Ten is, at how Ten’s lashes flutter shut and a soft moan tumbles from the other’s lips at the feel of Iori’s hand against him. Iori flushes when he realizes that all of this was because of him-- he’s the one that drove Ten to this point, and he’s the only one who can . Two can play this game, Iori decides, and he moves off the table to get on his knees but Ten stops him. “Not with your mouth-- not today, at least. Turn around and put your forearms down on the table.” “Kujou-san, we’re already risking it--” Iori hisses but Ten presses a finger to his lips. “I need you, Iori,” he murmurs, before trailing that finger down to tilt Iori’s chin up. Grey meets dusky rose, and Iori swallows thickly at the way Ten’s eyes shine with lust. “Besides, I’m on day duty today and the classroom is locked. Did you really think I would allow for that many flaws in my plan?” Iori shakes his head, unable to find or vocalize any words while he’s trapped under Ten’s predatory gaze. Ten’s smile softens for a brief moment at that, and he presses a soft kiss to Iori’s forehead. “Good boy.” Iori flusters for a brief moment, but is quickly distracted when Ten’s fingers trail down from his jaw and trace the curve of his neck, his touch feather- light, before coming to a rest at the uniform bow. Ten’s voice dips low, sensual, possessive -- “You’re mine, and mine alone right now, Iori.” Iori can’t think of anything to say back to him, at least not when his mind is still hazy from what Ten’s earlier ministrations, and because he knows Ten is a perfectionist and had probably thought out every miniscule detail for whatever this was. So he doesn’t protest when Ten unties his ribbon and lets the satin soundlessly drop onto the floor, or when Ten’s lips meld with his and deft fingers begin to undo his buttons. He doesn’t protest when Ten sits him back onto the table, metal cold against his bare thighs, as Ten deepens the kiss and Iori’s arms find their way around Ten’s neck, pulling him in closer. Ten’s uniform vest is rough against his bare skin, but Iori can’t bring himself to care. Ten breaks the kiss, only to move his lips to Iori’s neck, teeth grazing at the skin, and tongue hot against his jugular. “Turn around,” Ten orders again, voice firm and commanding, but breathless. This time Iori obeys without protest, perhaps lost in the heat of the moment, and Ten hikes the skirt up again. The sound of a bottle uncapping and the subsequent sensation of cool, slick fingers teasing at his entrance has Iori gripping at the table, white-knuckled, in anticipation. Ten eases in the first finger, agonizingly slow. Iori can’t hold back the soft sigh that escapes his lips when Ten begins to move, losing himself in the sensation of Ten’s fingers. Ten was good at this, and there had been many times where Iori had come undone from just Ten’s fingers, as much as he’d hate to admit it. But Ten was attentive, taking in every sigh, every quiet moan from Iori and adjusting based off of that. Iori’s close, again, and he’s biting into the sleeve of his cardigan to keep himself quiet as slick noises fill the room. He bucks up against Ten’s fingers, wants them deeper, deeper, deeper-- Ten pulls his fingers out, but before Iori can make any noise of protest at the sudden emptiness and being denied again, he hears the sound of foil ripping open and his breath hitches. “Relax,” Ten murmurs, before easing the tip against Iori’s entrance. Iori exhales, mind blank as he feels more and more of Ten inside of him, replacing where his fingers were mere seconds ago. He takes a moment to adjust, to register Ten’s uneven breathing as he holds himself back. Iori feels a little proud of the fact that he’s able to bring Kujou Ten’s restraint to near shambles, before he whispers, “Move.” Ten gladly obliges, and his hands find their way to Iori’s hips and grip them with enough force to bruise. Ten pulls out only to thrust back in, deeper than his fingers could’ve reached, and Iori can’t stop the cry that echoes into the empty classroom. Iori can’t think anymore, each thrust from Ten bringing him closer and closer to the edge again, sweet ecstasy flooding his veins as more and more lewd sounds fill the room. Ten’s breath, uneven, hot against his ear, only spurs him on as he moves his hips to meet each thrust. “K-Kujou-san, I--” He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, because Ten’s hand finds its way down to Iori’s dick and begins to stroke. Iori moans, loud, as he comes into Ten’s hand, his vision flooded his white as he rides the high of his orgasm. “ Iori ,” Ten gasps out from behind him, pace faltering before he gives one last thrust and comes shortly after. Ten stays like that, inside Iori, as the sound of their disheveled panting echoes, and Iori slowly comes to his senses. Ten rests his head onto Iori’s shoulder, and Iori closes his eyes as they both catch their breaths.  He pulls out shortly after, a soft sound escaping Iori’s lips at the loss. Ten releases his grip on his hips, and Iori knees almost give out from under him, as he leans heavily against the desk for support. “Kujou-san…” Iori hisses, face aflame, when Ten lets out a soft chuckle. Before Iori can turn around and properly berate the older, the door rattles as someone attempts to open and Ten moves his (clean) hand to muffle Iori’s mouth. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s locked,” a deep voice sounds from the other side. The dull thunk of a kick sounds, and Ten snickers softly against Iori’s ear. “That damn brat, he said he’d keep it open for us. Tch.” Nervous laughter from another deep voice follows the comment, before replying, “It’s fine Gaku, we don’t have to do this… Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t? Do this at school?” There’s a pause, then an exasperated sigh. “If you thought I was gonna give up just because of a locked door, you thought wrong, Ryuu. Let’s go, we can find another room.” “I’m telling you, this is a bad idea….” The voices trail off down the hallway, alongside the sound of footsteps and Iori is absolutely bewildered because Ten is shaking from laughter from behind him. Iori removes Ten’s hand from his mouth and turns indignantly. “Kujou Ten, what is the meaning of this?” “I wonder,” Ten replies cryptically, as his (clean) thumb moves across his phone in what appears to be a text message to someone. He locks his phone, then looks Iori dead in the eye. “Alright, we have five minutes to get cleaned up and go.” “What.” “Don’t make me repeat myself,” Ten sighs, as he tosses a bag at Iori. “Get changed, I’ll handle cleaning.” Iori glares at Ten for a moment more, and opens the bag to find his slacks neatly folded inside. But something is missing, and Iori feels the onset of a migraine coming along. “Kujou-san, there’s no underwear in here.” Ten doesn’t respond, as he wipes down the table innocently. Iori knows Ten is doing this on purpose, and he feels heat creeping up into his face because he knows where this is going. “ Kujou-san ,” he repeats with more emphasis, but Ten just shrugs nonchalantly as finishes up and glances at the clock on the wall. “We have to go in a minute, so I recommend you put on your pants and look presentable.” Iori doesn’t dignify that with a response. “I’m keeping these, by the way. Also, you’ve got 30 seconds to get changed.” Ten smirks as he pats his pocket, where pink lace is peeking out. “Fine,” Iori grits out, face flushed, as he tugs on the slacks and hastily buttons his shirt up. Ten’s waiting for him by the door, keys jingling in his hand, and Iori stiffly walks out. The door slides shut behind them, and they make their way down the hallway, footsteps echoing as the last vestiges of the afternoon light filters in. Iori breaks the silence as they round the corner. “We are never doing that again.” End Notes not beta'd !!! because this has been rotting on my hard drive since March 21st!!! (AKA ITS BEEN 2 WHOLE MONTHS) THIS IS ALSO!! Shoutout to Tsuki (@kiriririno on twitter) foR BEING SWEET DARLING ANGEL!!!! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT I WOULDN'T HAVE FINISHED THIS........ last fun fact: I looped Kimi no Kokoro wa Kagayaiteru Kai for a good part of this and I Am So Sorry. 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