
Band: Mest
Pairing: Matt/Jere
Rating: G
Dated: January 29, 2004
Summary: ...Mest goes to Tokyo.Notes: Alright, motherlovers. So I was watching the travel channel when i got home tonight and Tokyo Revealed was on. Well they showed this hotel thing where instead of rooms, they just have little like cubicles that look kinda like bus bunks and the ideas just kept invading my brain and I had to write it. so firstly, go here to this website and read that page. Otherwise you might not picture it right and yeah just read it, it makes it better. Kay? The pictures are hilarious too. ++ then you can read this.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. It never happened and I am in no way affiliated with Mest. I mean no disrespect.
They are not in homosexual relationships with each other
and no you may not copy parts of my fiction to use in your own!
Mest Goes to Tokyo
“Wait, wait, wait, does that little sign with the angry looking man holding his hands out in front of the guy with the green blob on his shoulder mean…”
“Yeah, no tattoos allowed.” I say, cutting Tony off before he starts describing the way the light is bouncing off the background of the picture…I think he’s still high. We’re standing in a lobby type thing of this hotel, if you can call it a hotel, in which our loving tour manager dropped us off at. We have no translator, reservations for the Capsule Hotel of Tokyo, and apparently tattoos aren’t allowed and the other three members of my band are pretty much covered. Maybe we could hide them? Uh huh ‘cause that would work great with the fact that we have to change out of clothes and into the “provide bathrobs” the sign is telling us about in broken English.
“Well fuck,” Tony shouts rather loudly, I wonder if the people around us know the word ‘fuck’…okay well that would explain the staring. “What are we supposed to do now?” For some reason the three of them turn to look at me. Like I’m their untattooed saint that’s going to grant them their salvation, or rather a bed to sleep in.
I throw my hands up and shrug, looking to Matt who has been relatively quiet this whole time. He shrugs too, “Go try and talk to them?” I roll my eyes and go over to the front desk type thing where a young woman is standing, talking away on a tiny tiny tiny piece of technology that looks more like something you see in Star Trek.
She mumbles something really fast into the phone, or faster than she was speaking before, and says some word I can’t even repeat to me. I take that as some form of greeting, “Yes, we have reservations and,” okay well she’s looking at me like I have three heads- does she understand English? “And we have a little problem…”
I watch as she bows her head and raises her hand in front of her mouth and- is she giggling? Oh right, must have to do with the culture and their polite upbringing. She looks up at me and bows again, “You Jer-e-miah Ran-gel.” I nod, how did she know that? “You punk rock *word I don’t understand* Mest.” I nod quickly and she giggles again. “You stay here?”
I nod exaggeratedly, “Yes, but we have a problem…uhhhh…” tattoo, tattoo, what’s the word for tattoo! I glance to my left and see the pictures that the other three numbnuts are still staring at, painted on the wall. I tap it and then point to Matt, Nick and Tony. “We have tattoos.”
“Ohhhh, *word I don’t know*,” she frowns and I nod, guessing whatever she said was the word for tattoos and not like chicken cock or something. Hey don’t they eat weird things here? She looks over to her co-worker and back at me, “One minute.” I nod and watch as she walks over to the man standing at the other end of the counter. They start conversing in their quick spoken language that leaves my mind numb, I wonder if they think we talk fast.
Both her and the co-worker come back over and he bows, “You ce-le-bri-ty?” Umm, yeah? I nod and he bows again, I’m supposed to do that back aren’t I? “We give you exception. No tell the management.” I awkwardly half-bow and say thank you a couple times.
The girl uses her little phone thing again and in a couple minutes an older man is telling us in a half British/ half Japanese accent that we have to check our bags in. So we do that and then he turns to us, “Follow me,” so we do because we’re Americans and we’re stupid. He leads us to a large locker room looking thing and Nick smirks, “Damn, flashback of high school!”
He tells us that we are to change out of our clothes here and into the provided robe and shorts and tells us where the bathroom is and the proper etiquette for the place, which I’m accepting of because we have no idea and really don’t want to be sleeping on a street somewhere in downtown Tokyo.
Rule number one when wearing the provided shorts: don’t bend over. We’re witness to this when Matt bends over to pick up his shoes and stuff them in the locker. Cheeks. Ooo a new nickname for my boyfriend. Nick and Tony laugh for a good 10 minutes before they ask where our rooms are. Boy are they in for a shocker.
I try and hide the smirk as they step into the first corridor of coffin-like “rooms.” “You’re fucking kidding! This is it!?” Tony yells and all three of us shush him, a couple tired looking men peek out of their holes before disappearing again.
“Actually, they’re almost bigger than a bunk.” Nick says, crawling into his and turning the provided television on. We’re all soon bored just standing here doing nothing and Nick and Tony suggest we go to the lounge area.
The four of us white-as-fuck Americans walk into a rather large room with televisions and couches spread around, waitresses in black skirts and little white hats talking at a mile a minute and setting brightly colored cocktails in front of patrons and suddenly all eyes are on us. The room’s activity pretty much stops and we just stand there. “Is it just me or are there like no chicks?” Tony mumbles and I tell him that this place is men-only. “Well, lets just go sit down over there and get some drinks or something.” Nick agrees but Matt turns to me, “let’s just go watch tv in our bunk…err, bed…err, capsule thing.”
Matt climbs in first, another great view of his ass for me- thankyou green shorts. I glance around the near empty corridor before climbing up the little ladder. I doubt this is allowed either. I pull the little cloth shade down and lay next to, okay so pretty much on top of, him. The cold plastic is hard against my back and I groan, “this sucks.” He smiles and pulls me more on top of him, “Did you brush your teeth?” he asks and I nod. “Good ‘cause sushi breath is not cool.”
I smile, “Tony was rockin some sushi breath. Are you tired?” I ask and he shrugs, “not really.” “Why are you being so quiet?” I ask, putting my elbow on the mattress and resting my head in my palm. “’Cause,” he shrugs again, “’cause we’re here, we’re in Japan and nobody appreciates it.” I mumble that I do and kiss his chest. “I know, but Tone doesn’t,” he sighs. I shake my head, “He does, just in his own way.”
He nods and pushes the thin robe off my shoulder, a devious smirk overcoming his features. “Think these fuckers are soundproof?” As if on cue we hear a cell phone ring and someone answer, it sounds like they’re right next to us, even though the bunk next to this one is empty cuz it’s mine. We both smirk and shake our heads before we kiss.
Matt pulls my robe off, already taken his off, and pulls my hips against his. I groan against his lips before pulling back, “Ooops, shhhh.” He nods before pulling me back to his lips and pushing his tongue down my throat. We make out sloppily, but as quietly as we can, Matt's hands slipping down the back of my shorts grabbing my ass and his hips grinding up against mine.
He pulls my shorts down and I sit up, having to bend my neck a little to the side so I don’t hit my head on the roof of the cubicle. I pull my shorts off the rest of the way, having to bend in weird angles so I don’t send my foot careening out the little door opening. Matt kicks his shorts off and I climb back on top of him.
He bends his knees and I settle between his legs, skin on skin and lips on lips. I feel him shift and as he’s nibbling on my bottom lip, my hips grinding against his, he breaks the kiss and laughs. I ask him what and he laughs again, “My legs, look at my legs.” I frown and look behind me, one of his feet propped up against the built in television and the other against the opposite wall. I have to laugh because as many times as we’ve fucked in a bus bunk, this place is just big enough to psyche you out to thinking that you can move around but we really can’t at all.
We’re steadily making out and rubbing against each other when I hear someone walk by talking. I pull back a little and whisper, “This is so not going to work.” Matt shakes his head, his eyes as big as dinner plates and his cock hard against my inner thigh, “we just gotta be quiet,” he whispers hoarsely and I almost want to laugh at the expression on his face. Like I would leave him, and myself, this high and dry.
His hand slips along my cock and I thrust against his palm, sucking on his neck and tugging at his nipples. I have to bite my tongue as his hand moves to my opening. I glare at him for not giving me any warning but push against his hand anyways. He smirks and fingers me so hard I almost fly forwards into the wall behind his head.
Both of us are panting hard and he gives me that look I associate with him begging to be inside of me. I arch my back, lifting myself up just enough- avoiding smacking my head as much as I can. I settle back down against his lap and breathe, trying not to moan. He squeezes my hips and I roll my body forwards then back again. Matt's face screws up and he thrusts upwards, urging me to move faster.
My palms move from his chest up to the sides of the compartment, my hips rolling in circles, riding on his strong thick hips. I’m moving over him, my thighs shaking from exertion and my breath coming out in short puffs. And I shortly forget where I am, forget that we’re in this tiny hole and focus on the feeling of him inside me. My back arches and I throw my head back, smacking it solidly on the roof.
We both stop moving and I feel him shaking as he laughs quietly, the top of my head fuzzy and my cock throbbing. I look down and he’s clasped his hand over his mouth, the tears of laughter rolling down the sides of his cheeks. I smack my flat palm to his chest, the contact making a sick noise- a bright red handprint marking his chest. He twists his back, trying his hardest not to laugh, me still situated solidly on his cock.
I pull myself off him and he stops, giving me a questioning look. I whisper harshly, my voice cracked, “your turn.” We switch places and he pushes back into me, my hands gripping his biceps and now I can arch my back without the impending roof. He thrusts in and out harshly, my legs wrapping around his stomach and hitting the roof, well at least it’s my feet and not my head.
He presses his palm to the wall above my head and grips my cock, touching me the way he knows I like. I grind my teeth together, squeezing my eyes shut and feeling him come. He presses deep as his hand strokes me quickly, not being able to hold back at all as a shallow quiet “uh ahhh” slips from his lips. The heat washes over my body and I tense up, his hands pulling every last wave of satisfaction from my body.
He kisses my shoulder and smiles his cute little tired I-just-had-sex smile and I run my fingers through his hair, his forehead resting on my sternum. A knock sounds and Matt picks his head up quickly. “Can I go to sleep now?” Tony’s tired/annoyed voice floats up from underneath us and we both blush bright red. Preparing ways to apologize profusely in the morning. I wonder if there were rules on that marquee in the lobby about not having gay sex. Well, they had pictures for tattoos, I didn’t see any ‘no fucking’ pictures…
=-=
the end.
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