[Log] Dirty Secret (Part 2)
Characters: Momoshiro Takeshi & Kaidoh Kaoru
Location: At Kaidoh's hut
Time: August 31
Rating: R
Summary: Second part. Momo and Kaidoh return to the hut and Kaidoh gives Momo a haircut. Which leads to other things.
Kaidoh sighs. It's been fifteen minutes, and Kaidoh is still thinking about Momoshiro's hair. Without wanting to, he starts worrying about the fact that he's left Momoshiro alone with scissors. Momoshiro, the idiot, can't even tie a bandana on his own; the idea of him snipping scissors around his scalp is kind of frightening. He knows he shouldn't worry, he shouldn't be thinking about Momoshiro at all, but he can't help his weird instinct to want to do things for him. It's a really stupid impulse, but it's not something he can help.
So he jogs back toward the hut, running along the treeline so he won't be immediately spotted. He tells himself he's just going to check on Momoshiro, make sure he's not bleeding from the head from some freak scissor wound. It's certainly not that he can't get enough of him or that he wants to be close to him. That's the last thing Kaidoh wants this week. At least, that's the last thing Kaidoh wants to want.
Momoshiro’s got a makeshift hair salon propped up right outside the hut, right in the shade. Which really only consists of an upside down bucket he’s sitting on, scissors in his hand, and a water bottle sitting right next to him. His black hair is wet, and clings to his forehead and his bare neck. He’s also taken off his shirt, so that he won’t be stuck with hairs down his shirt (that’s one of the most annoying things in the world). Water trails down from his hair over his back, and it feels sort of nice and cool like that, he doesn’t hate it, not in this heat.
Now, if only he had a mirror so he could see what he’s cutting. Instead, he blindly grabs a bunch of hair right in front of his eyes, and shoves it in between the cool blades of the scissors. He cuts it off in one snap, so that it stops right at his eyebrows. He’s sure it’s completely uneven. Alright, this wasn’t that bad, he can do it like this. He cuts some more off at the front of his face, his long black hair falling down onto his chest and landing in the sand. He probably looks like he’s got a really hairy chest, and it was Kaidoh who was supposed to be the gorilla here.
Stupid Kaidoh, of course he won’t cut off his ear. He’s not dumb.
Kaidoh walks up to the hut from behind so he doesn't run into Momoshiro right away, although once he sees the bucket and Momoshiro sitting there on it shirtless, he immediately regrets this approach, because it makes him seem like a creep, like he's deliberately sneaking up on Momoshiro or something. So before he's too close, before he's crossed the threshold into total stalker territory, Kaidoh clears his throat loudly to announce himself. And also because the sight of so much of Momoshiro's bare skin makes him feel like there's actually something stuck in there.
Momoshiro’s snipping away at the bangs of his hair, and he barely notices the grumpy throaty sound Kaidoh makes, but he does look up, scissors still stuck in his hair, and he spots Kaidoh, sneaking around the hut like a stalker. Momoshiro feels exposed; he’s got no shirt on, and he’s sitting there with scissors in his hair, and now Kaidoh’s seen him fumbling around, not knowing what to do.
Now he sort of wishes he didn’t cut his bangs, because his cheeks are already flaring up with heat from embarrassment.
“What,” Momoshiro says with a huff. He tries to not let it show that there’s a change in the atmosphere, a tension in the air as soon as their eyes met, for however brief it was. “I didn’t cut my ear off, okay.”
"I can see that," Kaidoh replies, voice gruff. He's trying to ignore the persistent tingle in his stomach. He's trying not to look at Momoshiro, but he can't help it. There's a lot of him there to look at right now.
"The front looks terrible," he points out, and not just because it feels easy to make a jab at Momoshiro. The bangs really do look jagged. If this were a week ago, if … things … hadn't happened, it would be funny. Now it just makes Kaidoh feel even weirder.
Momoshiro removes the scissors from his hair, and he wipes his chest clean. He can’t see how terrible it looks like, but considering this is Kaidoh, who thinks everything Momoshiro does is terrible, he takes it with a grain of salt.
“Better than what you could do,” says Momoshiro. It’s still an instinct within him to disagree and fight on every subject with Kaidoh, it’s simply part of who he is-and it sucks that he has to keep himself in check. Any more arguing … might lead to a fight. And this time, there’s no shirt to grab onto, and there’s some dangerous scissors in his hand.
No, they definitely cannot fight.
Kaidoh glares at him. "I'd at least be able to cut it straight." Assuming he could do it without his hands shaking. Did Momoshiro have to take his shirt off for a hair cut? And what's with all the water? It's like he's glistening in the sun. It's totally disgusting. Kaidoh forces himself to look at the shiny scissors instead.
"And how are you going to do the back?" he asks pointedly. "You can't see back there."
Momoshiro runs his fingers through the back. “I don’t know, I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” he says dismissively. Why does Kaidoh have to argue about this with him right now? Can’t he just go away? Go running? He’s always running. Of all the times Kaidoh is running, this is the one time he isn’t, and Momoshiro actually wants him to. It’s so backwards from what he’s usually saying.
“Why do you care anyway?” He looks up at Kaidoh, through his thick eyelashes covered in droplets.
"I don't care, moron," Kaidoh growls, his face flushing with heat. "I'm just saying it will look stupid."
“Yeah, well. I’m not the one who has to be looking at it.” And it’s true; there’s no mirrors around this island. But then again, Momoshiro had just implied that Kaidoh will be looking at him, a thought that gives him goosebumps.
Kaidoh hisses. "Well, I have to look at it right now and it's pissing me off!" The words snarl out of him before he's really thought them through. Wait … that's not what he meant! Why does he have to look? It's not like Momoshiro is forcing him. No, Kaidoh's doing that all on his own.
He looks down at the sand instead. Since when did he always have to watch what he says around Momoshiro? Why does it feel like so many things are off-limits? Why can't they just rewind a few days and try it again? Do it right this time and fix this. Is he going to have to be stuck living with Momoshiro and all that annoyingly uneven hair? It's kind of offensive to Kaidoh on a basic level in that he likes things ordered and neat, like his carefully folded bandanas. Momoshiro just has to disrupt everything all the time, doesn't he? Slicing jagged edges through Kaidoh's life. Asshole.
"At least let me fix that piece at the front..." Kaidoh says, voice a little quieter now, almost like he doesn't want Momoshiro to hear the offer. "I mean, what the hell, can't you cut a straight line?"
Don’t give him the scissors, don’t give into what he says, don’t even look at him-but Momoshiro is horrible at taking his own advice, and he flips the scissors over, the bladed end in his hand, and the handle pointing towards Kaidoh. He flicks his wrist at Kaidoh, his eyes challenging him, as if he’s saying; just go ahead and try it then. And it sucks he’s doing this, feeling this, because he knows he shouldn’t. Not when he feels so naked out there, stranded on an island with Kaidoh who’s making him feel funny things.
Kaidoh lurches forward like he's forgotten how to move and grabs the scissors. "Okay, stay still," he warns, because the last thing he wants to do is accidentally stab Momoshiro in the face. Sure, he feels infuriated with him (and with himself) over what happened, over what is still happening now, but he doesn't actually want to hurt him. In fact, most of his thoughts and urges involving Momoshiro are a lot more … pleasant. Which is disgusting.
He shakes his shoulders to loosen them-they seem to have twisted into a knot along with the rest of his body-and reaches out his hand to pull Momoshiro's hair up between his fingers. Momoshiro doesn't protest, at least not out loud, but he does seem to stiffen a bit in surprise. It makes Kaidoh's heart beat a little faster, or maybe that's because he has Momoshiro's hair between his fingers. It's slick from the water and slides easily against his skin.
He can't help but be reminded of the last time he touched Momoshiro's hair, but he shoves the memory from his mind, because he has a task to complete. He's going to fix Momoshiro's stupidly botched cutting job. He snips a clean line off from the hair and lets it fall back against Momoshiro's forehead. It looks a lot better than before, although it still looks kind of off, now that it's centered between all the remaining long wisps of hair. Kaidoh wants to cut them too, for the sake of balance and all. And maybe just because he wants to touch Momoshiro's hair again. His hands are itchy like they've been waiting for an excuse to all week. And well, Momoshiro isn't telling him to stop.
That’s mostly because Momoshiro has lost his voice to say anything at all. He’s kind of frozen in place, doing nothing but stare at Kaidoh’s tank top. There’s a few grains of sand stuck on it, and it’s really rather annoying to be looking at that, but it’s better than looking straight at Kaidoh, look into his dark eyes, look at his arms and how his muscles tighten as he snips at his hair, taking deliberate movements, slow and careful. Careful not to stab him in the eye, or careful because Kaidoh notices that Momoshiro is very aware of him touching his hair?
And maybe because he’s been wanting this ever since that day?
The feeling of his hair moving through Kaidoh’s fingers, to feel him press his fingertips against his scalp; it only brings him back to that day. That day when their bodies were a hot sticky mess, moving together in rhythmic thrusts, and Kaidoh’s lips devouring him as it seemed at the time, his tongue, hot, wet and terrifyingly good, wrestling with his own-Momoshiro remembers it in the greatest detail possible. As if someone had been recording it in HD, and it keeps playing back. Except it’s been enhanced, it’s not just in HD, it makes him remember the sensations as well. Those delicious feelings that kept changing and making his head spin.
His head is spinning right now, with Kaidoh’s fingers brushing through his hair, and the satisfying sound of the scissors snapping shut. Momoshiro is kind of torn; he wants to enjoy it-he can’t even deny this anymore-but he’s simply terrified of letting himself enjoy this. Who knows what will happen if he does? Who knows what he’ll do if he makes this weird delightful expression on his face, and Kaidoh sees it? Momoshiro closes his eyes, as if somehow this will make Kaidoh go away, or make him not see his expressions. He feels like hiding. But he’s frozen on top of a stupid bucket, so he can’t do anything but squirm.
Kaidoh finishes with the hair across Momoshiro's forehead-he feels like he's moving in slow-motion, as though, against his will, his body is insisting on taking its time-and moves around to Momoshiro's side. He's not lingering deliberately; he just wants to do a good job. He tries to think of it like folding laundry or washing dishes, just a simple chore, but it's not working. He can't make his brain turn off.
His fingers flick against Momoshiro's ear as he pulls at the hair there, careful so that Momoshiro doesn't think Kaidoh is trying to really cut his ear off or something. Momoshiro is already shifting around enough like he's nervous. Kaidoh's heart races faster-he's feeling nervous too. He snips the hair off, even and quick and the pieces fall on Momoshiro's bare shoulder and even against his neck and ear. Kaidoh starts to brush them off, but then freezes and flinches, pulling his hand back.
That's going too far.
He puts his hand back against Momoshiro's head, like it's an agreed-upon safe zone, and continues cutting, suddenly very aware of how weird this is. How long can this keep up without either of them acknowledging how close they are? At least Kaidoh can use the fact that Momoshiro's hair is already damp with water to hide how sweaty his palms have become. At least Momoshiro isn't looking up at him, isn't seeing Kaidoh's increasingly red face. And maybe the snapping of the scissors is loud enough to hide his weird shaky breathing. Why couldn't he just have let Momoshiro cut his own damn hair? Because it would have ended up all lopsided? If only it were that simple.
Since Momoshiro isn’t doing anything but sit there, eyes closed and focused on the sensation and swooping feelings running through him, he’s very aware of everything Kaidoh is doing. How when he moves around him and leans over his head, his shirt sticks to Momoshiro’s bare arm, or he leans so close, he can feel Kaidoh’s abs touch his arm. The abs his hand was running over that time. It’s making Momoshiro’s breath as shaky as Kaidoh’s, and yes, he noticed, of course he has. When he can’t do anything else besides focus all his attention on Kaidoh, of course he can tell how nervous he is too. So careful to not do anything out of the ordinary, to not make things go the wrong way, turn into a different direction.
Because it can all change, in a snap, all it needs is a little push, or maybe even a little touch. Kaidoh’s touches are driving Momoshiro nuts.
Can’t Kaidoh hurry up? Momoshiro wants to call him a slowpoke, to jab at his reluctant movements, as if he’s too hesitant touching Momoshiro. And yes, he probably is. It even feels that way, everything feels so forced and careful. Kaidoh’s trying his best to not make any weird movements, to not touch him in a certain place. But it doesn’t matter to Momoshiro; every inch of his skin reacts to Kaidoh against his own will. If it weren’t so terrifying, he’d probably feel relaxed, very zen-but that was before that day. Now it’s after, and now he knows it can turn into something much more, and they both know it. That stupid pink elephant in the room still refuses to leave.
Some of the hairs on his shoulder is starting to make Momoshiro feel itchy, so he peers through his eyes and slides his fingers over his bare skin to wipe them off. But since his skin is kind of damp from the water (or sweat?), the hairs stay stuck, and it takes him a few tries to get rid of it. And then it ends up being flung towards Kaidoh’s shirt, where it stays stuck, laughing in Momoshiro’s face.
Momoshiro quickly reaches out, pats his hand across Kaidoh’s shirt to get rid of the hairs, and retreats immediately afterwards. The palm of his hand is throbbing with erratic pulses he can’t control. He closes his eyes again, hoping to gain some sort of control.
Kaidoh snips at the hair at the top of Momoshiro's head, seeing it all flutter down in clumps, scattering in the sand at his feet. Then he moves around behind Momoshiro until he's standing directly behind him. He leans down a bit for a better angle, and his sharp breaths blow over the top of Momoshiro's head, through the newly cut hair there, as Kaidoh starts to trim the hair at the back of Momoshiro's head.
Momoshiro sucks in a breath and bites his lip; does Kaidoh really need to be standing that close!?
Kaidoh’s hand grazes Momoshiro's neck as he pulls at the hair and snips away at it. Automatically, Kaidoh can see goosebumps raise on Momoshiro's skin, and feels Momoshiro shiver against his touch. It makes Kaidoh's fingertips thrum with excitement. They want to make Momoshiro do that again. But Kaidoh doesn't; his still rational mind knows that would be a terrible idea, so he's more careful next time, trying to keep his hands from pressing too close to Momoshiro's skin, to touch his hair only, to cut quickly and then pull away, to stop lingering. But as the scissors continue to snip away at long hairs, exposing more and more of Momoshiro's neck, Kaidoh feels his willpower slipping. At least it will be over soon. And then maybe his fingers will stop feeling like they're hooked up to electrical buzzers and each touch is another zap.
This haircut is supposed to make Momoshiro feel more refreshed, cool-certainly not hot. Not shivering of heat, of feeling Kaidoh’s body so close to him once more, behind him, doing things to his head and his neck. Doesn’t Kaidoh know by now he’s really sensitive there? It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose, as if he wants to cause any sort of reaction in Momoshiro, and he’s doing a fine good job.
It only serves to remind him of Kaidoh’s fingernails scratching the back of his neck, his face burying himself into the nook of his neck, and gasping, and squirming, and then that tongue...
Momoshiro lets out a small sigh as he remembers the feelings, the pleasure, the excitement, the thrilling sensations. He wants to experience them again. In fact, he sort of wants to feel them right now, he doesn’t want to wait, he’s impatient, and now that Kaidoh’s making work of his neck and giving him goosebumps, he’s sort of losing his rational thoughts again. The thoughts that were supposed to keep him in check, to let him know that he’s supposed to be avoiding any physical contact with Kaidoh, and well, he should avoid him altogether, they’re simply slipping away. With each cut and snip, Kaidoh leans closer, and the warmth that radiates from his body hits Momoshiro like a tidal wave. He’s getting overwhelmed by it again, he’s starting to feel good again.
So instead of doing the right thing, like getting up and walking away-walk away from all these weird and mixed up feelings-Momoshiro instead feels like this awkward wall is crumbling away, and he leans back a little into Kaidoh’s touch. It just feels too nice, too good, too addicting.
Kaidoh's fingers still and he sighs as he feels Momoshiro relax back against him. The reaction is totally involuntary, the sound of his breath just slipping out of him, easy and relieved. It's just a moment, just a second, and then he starts moving again, continuing his cutting, but it feels more natural now. Just feeling that Momoshiro is less nervous, if only by some small margin, makes Kaidoh feel a little less tense too.
He trims the hair around the other side of Momoshiro's head, over his ear and back towards the front again. Each movement he makes, each time his fingertips brush Momoshiro's skin, he feels Momoshiro react, and it's spurring Kaidoh on to let his fingers linger. Each time, they stay a little longer. He hopes Momoshiro doesn't notice … It's not Kaidoh's fault, it's not like he can help himself. And he has an excuse-he's busy cutting Momoshiro's hair, that's all.
But then suddenly he's finished cutting, having circled completely around Momoshiro, and is standing in front of him once more. He crouches down in the sand so that they're at eye-level, and sets the scissors down next to the bucket. Then he uses his fingers to check that the sides are even and that he hasn't missed any spots. The cut looks okay. Definitely an improvement on Momoshiro's earlier effort. Kaidoh's too focused on making sure the cut is neat to notice how close his face suddenly is to Momoshiro's, to remember how awkward this is supposed to be, but for some reason, at this very moment, isn't.
He pulls his hands back and blinks a couple times too, because it's weird seeing Momoshiro with much shorter hair again. But kind of exciting too.
"That's better," Kaidoh says quietly.
“Are you saying it looked bad before?” Momoshiro asks. He’s trying to keep his thoughts off of the fact that they’re so close. Within a distance that can be so easily crossed. He doesn’t even care Kaidoh cut his hair anymore, leaving him hairy all over, it left him with an aftertaste for more.
Kaidoh snorts. "You mean before when you'd cut it all weird and slanty? Yeah, that looked pretty dumb."
Momoshiro bites his lips and he lowers his eyebrows at Kaidoh. “No it didn’t. I look good in anything. Asshole.”
"You're so full of it," Kaidoh retorts, and narrows his eyes a bit. "Moron."
“Dumbass.” Momoshiro pushes a fist into Kaidoh’s chest, that sends him tingling all over. This excitement is back again, and threatening to spiral out of control. “Why don’t you-” Momoshiro leans forward, teasingly so, until his chin stops at Kaidoh’s shoulder, and he wraps his arms around Kaidoh, sneaking around his back. His hand creeps up, until it grabs the back of Kaidoh’s towel and he sits back down again, the towel slipping off Kaidoh’s neck. “-give me this, so I can wipe these hairs off of my body.”
The towel is clutched in his hands, and he squeezes it against his bare chest; it feels warm and it really does smell like Kaidoh. He feels his eyes refusing to let go of Kaidoh’s gaze. That awkwardness, that awful dreaded feeling that he’s walking on eggshells has evaporated, and he’s feeling like there’s nothing wrong anymore. Like this is how it’s supposed to go, meant to be. There’s even a playful smirk on his lips.
Kaidoh snarls at him. "That's mine, idiot," he fires back, and snatches his towel back out of Momoshiro's hand. Or tries to. Momoshiro's got a pretty firm grip, so Kaidoh only really succeeds in tugging Momoshiro's hand closer to him, the towel in between them like it's some bizarre game of tug of war.
Kaidoh can feel his blood really pumping through him now, he's starting to get that familiar rush, like they're about to get into a fight. It's something he didn't think he'd get to feel again, not after what happened. And right now, what happened doesn't feel like it was such a bad thing at all, not with the way Momoshiro is staring at him with an intensity that makes Kaidoh feel like he might as well be the only person on the whole island, maybe in the entire world.
He tries to match Momoshiro's energy, rise up to his level, and growls at him as he pulls harder on the towel. "You don't get to just take it," he grinds out, but really he's thinking that he wouldn't mind if Momoshiro rubbed the towel all over himself, though Kaidoh would kind of rather do it for Momoshiro himself. Which is unexpected. And a little embarrassing. But suddenly embarrassing thoughts are just giving Kaidoh adrenaline instead of guilty waves of nausea. It's like he forgot this was supposed to be weird. Or maybe he remembered that it isn't.
Momoshiro lets go right as Kaidoh pulls at it again, making him jerk backwards. “Alright then.” He can feel his insides buzzing, like that day, which is starting to seem like a very good memory to him now. Things are starting to feel normal once more. “Then you do it. You’re the one who cut it up this much in the first place. I mean wow, just look at how much you trimmed!”
To illustrate his point, Momoshiro grabs a lock of long black hair that was simply sitting on his knee and he flings it at Kaidoh’s shirt.
Kaidoh scowls and plucks the hair from his chest and drops it on the ground like it's a disgusting bug. It's like Momoshiro is shedding everywhere.
"Fine," he says, and practically punches the towel into Momoshiro's shoulder. The contact feels good, really good. Kaidoh's been wanting to do that since Sunday, to just be able to be like this with Momoshiro again, like it's easy. Then his fingers uncurl and he presses his palm flat against Momoshiro's chest and wipes the towel up over his shoulder, quick and rough, like everything they do. He whips it around the back of Momoshiro's neck and over to his other shoulder, goosebumps are appearing everywhere the towel slips over, and then finally back to the front of his chest again. It's kind of fuzzy now from all of Momoshiro's hair, which kind of grosses Kaidoh out so he shakes the towel out into the sand, then drops it over the pair of scissors next to the bucket.
And because he can, because Kaidoh feels so relieved and a little excited to be able to punch Momoshiro again, Kaidoh jams his fist into Momoshiro's chest. The heat coming off Momoshiro's skin seems to scorch Kaidoh's knuckles. His heart gives a wild, approving thump.
Hair is swirling around in the air, like that obnoxious glitter that was in Momoshiro’s hair a week ago, just simply floating around with no aim or goal. Momoshiro looks up at Kaidoh, through the air filled with his own hair, acting like dust motes, like it’s some sort of confetti, and this is a scene out of a movie, with everything playing out in slow motion. Maybe it’s that HD movie he’d been thinking about earlier, because suddenly all those feelings are rushing back, and he feels that excitement again, simply coursing through his entire body, pumping out from the spot where Kaidoh’s fist is pushing against him. It’s humming with elation.
Momoshiro puts his hand on top of Kaidoh’s, twisting it around until his fingers wrap around Kaidoh’s palm, and he pulls it away from his chest. He leans his entire body forward once more, and tugs at Kaidoh’s arm to pull him in closer as well. He’s not thinking anymore, he’s acting on these feelings that he’s been trying so hard to keep under control for the past few days. Feelings that are screaming for attention, and Momoshiro is helpless as he can’t do anything but listen to them, to act on them.
The feelings are telling him to touch Kaidoh, to pull him closer, to feel him against his own body, to smash their lips together-he wants to do all the things he did with him before, to feel the same intoxication from back then. And right now, there’s no pretense in the air, he’s not forced to be normal, because Kaidoh’s staring right back at him, with a glint in his eyes, and he looks as if he wants it too. He wants to do anything Momoshiro wants to do. It’s enough to make him shiver and a red flush spreads across his entire face, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
Ah, he’s been wanting this again ever since that day.
The hair settles down between them, lingering in the sand. Momoshiro’s hand travels away from Kaidoh’s, riding up his arm, to his shoulders, until he clutches Kaidoh’s neck. The teeth marks are still there, fading away very slowly. They stopped looking embarrassing to him, and now simply makes him feel pumped, as if he wants to do it again. He slides forward towards the edge of the bucket to lean in close enough to … to …
Wanting to part from him again is the last thing Momoshiro wants to do; the thrilling thumps in his body won’t stop, it’s like he’s meant to do this. Everything clicks and is falling into place again. Momoshiro licks his lips to moisten them, and he flicks his eyes down at Kaidoh’s red ones. Those plump lips that felt like fire dancing on his skin. He wants to feel it again. He wants everything. He breathes out a ragged short breath, still staring right at Kaidoh.
Momoshiro stops, he can feel his heart stop as well; he’s so close to Kaidoh right now. Their faces are literally centimeters apart, and for a second, he has doubt cross his mind, that maybe Momoshiro wasn’t reading the situation all that clearly, that maybe he misunderstood. That maybe Kaidoh doesn’t want to do this with him at all … so he stays like that, close enough to do something, but stares at Kaidoh with bedroom eyes, his fingers fluttering around at the small of Kaidoh’s neck.
When Momoshiro touches Kaidoh's hand, his shoulder, his neck, Kaidoh feels his whole body seize up and shudder. He's been waiting for it, trying to deny and suppress it, but the truth is, he never stopped wanting it. And now he doesn't have to pretend anymore. He responds to Momoshiro's touches like they're electrical wires and he's the socket; the moment they connect, all the power switches on. His chest rises and falls, rhythmic and tidal. He can feel it coming-that tenuous moment where the cord between them is fraying and about to snap. They don't even need scissors to cut it.
What are you waiting for?
What is Kaidoh waiting for?
They're so close that he can feel warm air puff against his lips, wet and hot. Kaidoh parts his lips as if to speak, but all he can manage is a short, small murmur. He can't just say it.
His hand that was between them raises to press against Momoshiro's cheek, and it's warm. He's blushing, and Kaidoh's sure he is too, but there's no lingering embarrassment there this time, just anticipation. There's a feeling of excitement buzzing in Kaidoh's fingers as they slide against Momoshiro's skin, curling behind his ear and then roughly dragging forward again, back to Kaidoh like an invitation, like a challenge.
Kaidoh's parted mouth still isn't doing anything but hang there waiting, unable to form sounds, let alone words. He can't take his eyes off Momoshiro, mesmerized by his stare. His eyes look like every time they fight, only it's magnified now, they're brimming with fiery intensity. Kaidoh narrows his eyes to try and match him.
C'mon, he thinks, wants to growl. He can't wait any longer, and something about the way Momoshiro is looking at him, with his eyes like a taunt, is making Kaidoh feel heady and a little crazy. But it emboldens him too. It feels right, like this, and any hesitation Kaidoh might have been feeling is quickly vanishing with each press of Momoshiro's fingers against his neck, each breath quavering out of Momoshiro's mouth.
The cord snaps and Kaidoh takes the plunge, leaning forward until the space between them is swallowed up by his lips against Momoshiro's wet mouth.
Momoshiro lets out a deep and quick breath, and he immediately reacts to Kaidoh’s lips, eyes automatically closing. His brain is wired up again with all sorts of sensations, flickering on and off, and making his body react on instinct, against his will. But then again, Momoshiro wants this. He wants it so badly, so he presses his lips against Kaidoh’s hard. There’s nothing gentle about it, and there’s no trace of that hesitation he was feeling earlier.
He can’t see that pink elephant anymore.
It’s gone, replaced by Kaidoh’s touch, his lips, and Momoshiro’s other hand reaches for his shirt, and he yanks at it to pull him closer. Because that’s all he wants; Kaidoh, closer, to him-he doesn’t want to lose that experience again, so he’s savouring every minute of this, every second. There’s chaos swarming around in his stomach, and his heart is thumping in his throat, in his lips, sending small vibrations against Kaidoh’s own. He slides his wet lips across Kaidoh’s, hard, quick, urgent. It’s making his head spin again.
The hand on Momoshiro’s cheek feels warm and soft, like Kaidoh’s simply entrapping him. It feels strong and sturdy, like a support, that Kaidoh is really there, that he’s doing this too, with him. That’s all that matters, he doesn’t care about anything else anymore. The consequences, the awkwardness that might happen afterwards-Kaidoh’s moving his lips against him, so what else can he do but respond? Respond and react, to every touch, to every movement, to Momoshiro roughly sucking at Kaidoh’s lips, and once more pulling him closer, until he’s almost toppling over the bucket with Kaidoh pressed against his bare chest.
Kaidoh smashes his mouth against Momoshiro's, their lips making smacking noises as they part and press together again, over and over like they're trying to bruise. He's got nearly a week's worth of pent-up frustration rushing into the kiss, all of it pouring out of him. He didn't realize just how much he'd missed this, how much he'd been hungry for it, but now he's attacking Momoshiro's mouth like he's starving. He doesn't even care if it's clumsy and desperate because Momoshiro is reeling him in with the same energy, the same eagerness. He wants it too, every bit as much.
Kaidoh keeps drawing in sharp, hitched inhalations through his nose as he tries to shove himself closer against Momoshiro, wanting to feel every inch of his skin against him again, just like before. He's completely forgotten that he's supposed to hate this, hate himself for doing it. All he can think about is how good it feels.
The hand on Momoshiro's face scrapes back over his head, fingernails digging into his short hair. He shivers his other arm up Momoshiro's side, his fingertips scratching along Momoshiro's bare skin. It feels like he's doing something forbidden, but the way Momoshiro is squirming against him urges him on and his hand travels north until it's at Momoshiro's neck where he feels Momoshiro's pulse throbbing wildly.
Momoshiro feels like he’s cheering Kaidoh on, with the way his body eagerly responds to that hand at his neck, to those lips hungry for action, it’s like he’s throwing pompoms in the air. It didn’t feel this intense the last time, those burning lips on his, moving, sucking and releasing. Or maybe it did, it’s just that everything feels so great right now, nothing can compare to the rumbling vibrations he gets, shooting up all through his limbs, throughout his entire body, this need to fulfill, this urge to keep moving like this with Kaidoh. Keep moving forever.
When Kaidoh’s fingernails scratch against his neck, Momoshiro can’t help but groan at the sensation; it gives him goosebumps all over, makes his toes curl up, and his own fingers scratch back at Kaidoh’s neck, like payback. Payback for throwing his mind into a tizzy, for making him feel so good he’s losing himself again. His other hand is busy trying to sneak underneath Kaidoh’s shirt. It’s not fair he’s the only one without one on, so exposed and vulnerable in front of Kaidoh, with red patches appearing on his skin and spreading like a disease.
And if this is a disease, then Kaidoh’s mouth is his medicine. His drug.
But it’s not like Momoshiro wants to be cured of this. He might have thought differently a few minutes ago, but every part of his body is disagreeing with him, especially Kaidoh’s hands, which are all over him, and his mouth is just attacking his own lips as if it’s the last day on earth, and they need to do it now. Momoshiro finally has access to Kaidoh’s bare skin underneath his shirt, and he strokes his hand across his entire chest. It feels like Kaidoh’s skin is on fire, it’s burning against his fingers.
Unlike last time, it’s Momoshiro who pushes his tongue against Kaidoh’s lips, wanting inside, wanting to feel that disgusting piece of muscle again because it doesn’t really feel disgusting. Not at all. Kaidoh is surprisingly willing, parting his lips against Momoshiro’s, and Momoshiro quickly dips his tongue inside. It brushes up against Kaidoh’s, and it makes a lightning bolt shoot through Momoshiro’s body. He’s left feeling like he’s shaking all over, but it’s thrilling, his heart is thumping against his chest, and that disease keeps rushing through him over and over. He swirls his tongue around Kaidoh’s, who is moving on his own accord, like they’re in a fighting cage, and they’re fighting to win. To gain that dominance over each other. It’s the kind of feeling Momoshiro has always had with Kaidoh, when they were still young, like eternal rivals. Except he didn’t know it could escalate into this, didn’t know it could be this good. It’s like he’s thrown into a land of unexplained mysteries, and he’s just finding out about them, one by one, exploring it all with Kaidoh. Each discovery more exciting than the other.
One more scratch on his neck makes Momoshiro hiss out a sharp breath, and he bites down on Kaidoh’s tongue in return-not because it hurts, but because it’s just involuntary, since everything is feeling so good he needs something to hold onto. Kaidoh shoves his body against Momoshiro in response, and suddenly the balance is tipped, and Momoshiro falls over. The bucket shoots out underneath him, and he lands in the sand with a muffled yelp, his back hitting one of the strong pillars underneath the hut, keeping it up, and splinters dig into his back. Kaidoh’s right on top of him, and the brief disruption severed the connection between their mouths, Momoshiro’s hand no longer underneath Kaidoh’s shirt.
Momoshiro looks at Kaidoh, a bit fazed, and everything is throbbing inside of him. He kicks the bucket away with his feet, reaches for Kaidoh’s shirt and grips it tightly, then pulls him up to his face, until he smacks his lips against Kaidoh’s again. He can never get enough of this, nothing will stop him anymore. Not even a hurricane.
Kaidoh squirms against Momoshiro, crawling forward until he's straddling him, and then his hands are back at Momoshiro's neck, and on his bare shoulders, and down against his chest. They don't linger anywhere long; he's grabbing and scratching everywhere he can, like he can't get enough. Kaidoh gets a kick out of it, a high that's better than running, from each little gasp Momoshiro makes against his mouth as Kaidoh finds a new place to touch, a new way to drive Momoshiro nuts. But it's not like Kaidoh is himself immune. He feels his heart racing too, his breath growing sharper. The way he's acting is foreign to him, but feels like an instinct he's always had and just never allowed himself to indulge. And now that he is, he's totally out of control. It's like he's not himself, or maybe right now, with Momoshiro, he's more himself than he ever was before.
He drags his lips over Momoshiro's, sucking at his mouth like he's inhaling him, like he's drinking him down, and then he bites at Momoshiro's lower lip, dragging his teeth over it. Momoshiro makes a noise Kaidoh isn't sure is a protest or a sound of encouragement, and he bites a little harder. He tugs Momoshiro's lip towards him, into his mouth, and then lets go and attacks Momoshiro's mouth with his tongue instead, shoving it between Momoshiro's lips and driving it against Momoshiro's tongue again.
This is literally making Momoshiro breathless, not to mention his lips feel raw and abused. Kaidoh’s tongue inside of his mouth is plugging him up, he can’t breathe anymore, not when Kaidoh’s hands are everywhere on his torso. Rubbing along the skin, heating it up, making him lean in and shudder, and it’s all going up to his head. An aggressive Kaidoh is always something he liked, riling him up, getting into a proper fight with him-but it’s never been like this. Kaidoh feels so much more different from before, but still so very much like him. Instead of punches, they’re eager strokes, instead of a kick, he’s biting at his lips, and instead of insults, they’re rushed gasps. This side of Kaidoh is something Momoshiro can get used to, or maybe he already has, but one thing’s for sure; he can never get enough of it.
The hands exploring all over his body are taking their toll on Momoshiro. He grows hotter every second, sweating like crazy from the friction, the heat, this unbearable urge. It’s like Kaidoh’s taken the reins, and he’s doing whatever he pleases to Momoshiro, and he can’t do anything but take it as it comes. He feels dizzy, he feels so high.
But then he does finally move again; he can’t let Kaidoh just make him feel all these amazing things. That’s like, not right, and either way, it feels just as good when Momoshiro’s hands are running across Kaidoh’s back as well. He really is muscular, and for once, Momoshiro can’t complain about his training, because it definitely paid off. The skin feels so secure under his fingers, and Kaidoh’s mouth just won’t stop moving on his, biting him whenever he feels like it, and Momoshiro returns the favour. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he doesn’t do it lightly. They never do things half assed, do they?
The closer Kaidoh leans against him, the more Momoshiro’s back is pressed up against the pillar, and there are definitely some hard pieces of wood stabbing him in the back. But it’s not something he notices, or really cares about. Kaidoh’s on top of him, and he’s hungrily kissing him, like it’s all he ever wanted. It’s all Momoshiro wants.
And right now, he wants to feel skin on skin. He’s so annoyed with Kaidoh’s tank top, it isn’t fair he’s sitting there with no shirt on. So his hands travel from Kaidoh’s shoulder blades to the bottom of his back, and stop at the hem of his shorts. He licks at Kaidoh’s tongue, distracting him a little bit longer, or well, enjoying this while he still can, before his hands grab his shirt, and he pulls it up, across his chest, towards his shoulders. Momoshiro pulls back, breaking their sloppy kiss. He takes in a deep breath and looks at Kaidoh, waiting for him.
Kaidoh glares at Momoshiro, annoyed at having to stop, even for a second. He looks down at where Momoshiro's hands are gripping his shirt, then back at Momoshiro's eyes, which are narrowed with a challenge. Well, Kaidoh's not going to back down from that. He's always willing to match Momoshiro, point for point, hit for hit. This is no different, only now it feels like the stakes are higher. There's a tingle of excitement at the prospect of his bare chest sliding against Momoshiro's own, skin against skin with no barrier between them.
It's a little scary too, but excitement outweighs the fear and Kaidoh sits back a bit on Momoshiro's thighs and covers Momoshiro's hands with his own, guiding them to tug the shirt up over Kaidoh's head. He shivers at the sensation of Momoshiro's fingers uncovering his bare skin as they move. Once it's off, Kaidoh flings it away from him into the sand and then lets out an impatient hiss before lunging against Momoshiro for more.
The sweaty collision of skin, of muscle, of Momoshiro under Kaidoh, is immediately sending Kaidoh into a weird, lightheaded daze. He feels like what they were doing before doesn't even count because it doesn't measure up to what's happening now, to the sensations he's feeling everywhere. Every touch is acute and penetrating, every part of Kaidoh's body hypersensitive. Momoshiro needs only to brush against him and it sends heated chills coursing through him, all over him. And he's doing more than just brush against him, their movements violent and frenzied. Kaidoh's mouth covers Momoshiro's own and it's like he's assaulting it with his lips, and tongue, and teeth.
Now this is more like it. Momoshiro lets his hands do all the wandering over Kaidoh’s body, one hand stroking Kaidoh’s chest, making circles, before going down and brushing over his stomach, over those flexed abs. The other hand is trailing over Kaidoh’s arched spine, tracing his fingers over the elaborate muscles on his back. And thinking this is getting in the way as well, he yanks off Kaidoh’s bandana so his hair is free to be touched. He can’t stop moving his hands, and neither can Momoshiro stop from kissing Kaidoh back just as much.
It’s like a fight with their mouths, their teeth click against each other every once in a while because both are eager, both want it now, and it’s making Momoshiro’s breathing louder and harsher, until he’s gasping for air each time they briefly part just to return again, tongues fiercely swirling around each other.
Momoshiro’s hand on Kaidoh’s back drops down, onto his own lap, and he rests it against Kaidoh’s ass, which is sitting there, jerking away from his touch every once in a while. He uses his other hand as well to snake it around Kaidoh, and with both this time, he helps Kaidoh push himself closer against Momoshiro, at the same time he straightens up his own back, away from the pillar, until they collide their naked chests against each other. Now Kaidoh is really straddling him, sitting right on top his crotch, which makes Momoshiro feel all sorts of things. He leaves Kaidoh’s butt alone this time, having accomplished what he set out to do-which is to get their bodies to touch as much as possible-and lets his hands roam free over Kaidoh’s back. Kaidoh wraps his own arms around Momoshiro’s neck, touching him exactly where he likes it. Momoshiro’s fingernails scratch into Kaidoh’s skin, because this is what he likes when Kaidoh does it, and thinks whatever he likes, Kaidoh does too.
Or, well, he better like it.
But there’s not much thought put into each of Momoshiro’s actions. He just does it, without thinking at all, because it feels good, because he wants to, he’s never wanted anything this badly before. Never wanted Kaidoh this much. And instead of feeling weird, surprised, or disgusted-it simply feels right, how it’s supposed to be. With Kaidoh right here on top of him, with his tongue inside of Momoshiro’s mouth, eliciting sounds Momoshiro would rather not be making, but he can’t help it.
Can’t help but be driven completely crazy by Kaidoh.
Momoshiro slurps up Kaidoh’s tongue, pushes against it, sucks on it, doing all kinds of things to it, when he pulls his head back, Kaidoh’s slippery tongue slides across his tight lips. But he stops right before it’s pulled out completely, and Momoshiro leans back again, sliding his lips over Kaidoh’s tongue, like he’s licking a popsicle, a very, very good and warm popsicle. He can feel Kaidoh pull him closer, his nails leaving a very pleasurable mark on the side of his neck, and it’s making Momoshiro shudder and all his muscles twitch at the sensation. So he does it again, sliding his lips over Kaidoh’s tongue; it’s just so moist and hot, and Kaidoh keeps moving his body against his, so it seems they both like it. Momoshiro sure does. The next time he retracts his mouth, he makes sure to lower his teeth so they graze over Kaidoh’s tongue.
It's getting harder for Kaidoh to suppress the weird, strained noises bubbling up out of his throat, and at the feeling of Momoshiro's teeth scraping over his tongue, a low, rumble of a moan rips its way out of Kaidoh's mouth and against Momoshiro's. He doesn't want to give Momoshiro the satisfaction of knowing just what he's doing to him, so Kaidoh tries to mask the sound with a growl. Not that it's much of a secret; his whole body is betraying him, so blatant that it might as well be sending up fiery red flares into the air every time Momoshiro does anything.
So Kaidoh retaliates by scratching his fingernails along the back of Momoshiro's neck, all the way over to the tip of his shoulder. He can feel Momoshiro's entire body react against him. His mouth parts and Kaidoh takes it as an opportunity to reclaim control of it, biting at Momoshiro's mouth, sloppy and urgent.
His thighs clench around Momoshiro's hips as he shifts in Momoshiro's lap. Even the tiniest movement feels explosive, and the toes of Kaidoh's sneakers dig into the sand, like he's looking for traction to push himself forward, closer to Momoshiro. One hand grips Momoshiro's shoulder to steady himself as Kaidoh grinds his hips forward into Momoshiro's body, seeking friction. He gasps against Momoshiro's mouth, his mind momentarily fuzzy, like all the synapses are firing at once. There's too much to focus on all at the same time and Kaidoh feels overwhelmed with crazy sensations.
Shit. Momoshiro gasps as Kaidoh’s body moves against his, and it feels even better than last time. All of it does.
Momoshiro rolls his head back, leaving Kaidoh’s lips alone for a bit. He holds Kaidoh tightly against him, arching his back into Kaidoh’s chest, it feels sticky and incredibly warm. Kaidoh continues to push himself into Momoshiro, and it’s just the kind of stimulation Momoshiro is craving. He tries to move with Kaidoh, but finds it’s a bit difficult when Kaidoh’s on top of him, basically immobilizing him, but he tries anyway, even if they’re little tiny movements and thrusts of his hips into Kaidoh. It’s kind of ragged like this, each of them moving in a different rhythm, but it’s exciting, and it just feels so good, Momoshiro really can’t hide the way he’s so excited. So aroused. Not like he can even if he tried; Kaidoh’s rubbing against it, there’s no way he can’t notice, and it’s obvious he does, because he is rubbing himself right on top of it, it’s making Momoshiro want to stop doing anything at all, and just let Kaidoh go at it.
But it’s better if he moves too, and his hands are itching to touch Kaidoh everywhere he can, and he is. From stroking over his back, to his shoulders, up and down his arms, his torso, and yes, even rubbing his butt. Momoshiro thinks the shape is kind of cute. But thoughts like that are knocked out of him when Kaidoh’s urgent grinding prevents him from doing anything but try to take in as much oxygen as possible.
Momoshiro finally pulls his head back, looks at Kaidoh’s neck, then decides to lick his tongue over the teethmarks he left there before, wetting the entire surface. Then he hovers his lips right above the moist skin, not touching it, but he sucks in a very sharp and cold breath; Kaidoh’s gotta feel that one.
He does. It makes Kaidoh's whole body tremble and a sharp hiss escapes from his lips. How the hell did Momoshiro have the ability to do that to him? Why is such a simple thing driving Kaidoh so crazy. It's stupid. Kaidoh wonders how to get Momoshiro to do it again.
He claws his fingernails into Momoshiro's shoulders, pulling himself closer, pushing his face against Momoshiro's neck and just breathing, or trying his best to, as he moves against Momoshiro like it's all he knows how to do. The jerk of his hips is becoming more urgent, more heated. His skin's temperature feels like it's rising by a degree each second.
Momoshiro’s neck tingles all over, blood rushing to the areas Kaidoh is pressing his face against. He sort of wishes Kaidoh would always put his face against his neck there, it feels wonderful, like that’s where he’s meant to be.
The moving of their hips continues, straining to go up, and then fall back down, and repeating this over and over again, making Momoshiro’s head spin faster. He wraps his other arm around Kaidoh’s back, keeping him securely in place against him, so that their bodies can move together, to create the best friction. Something is brewing between Momoshiro’s legs, it’s simply getting hotter and faster, and he’s losing track of anything else.
Since Kaidoh’s neck is right there, Momoshiro pushes his lips against the bruise this time. He kisses it lightly, thinking it might actually hurt otherwise, and when he gets a nice accurate pushful shove against his groin, Momoshiro sucks harder in return. He leaves the bruise alone, simply kisses lightly everywhere around his neck, pausing every once in a while to suck harder and feel Kaidoh writhe against him. It’s amazing, he wants to keep doing this, and keep rocking their bodies like this.
Momoshiro switches sides, going over to the left side of Kaidoh’s neck, where there are no marks, and Momoshiro feels tempted to leave one there again. Temptation is turned into fruition, because Kaidoh manages to move his hips in just the right way, and Momoshiro’s mind is back to spinning again. A hand shoots up to the back of Kaidoh’s head, and he shoves his fingers into that long hair, before grabbing hold of it, and yanking it to the right, exposing his neck. He first kisses it, once, twice, then grazes his teeth over it, from his collarbone, up to his ear, where he pulls away and licks Kaidoh’s earlobe. He’s breathing harshly himself, feeling like he’s gliding through some clouds, he feels that high, that good, nothing can bring him down. With his tongue, he pulls Kaidoh’s earlobe closer, until his lips are sucking on it, before he softly bites this as well. It feels soft and squishy, something which he never thought Kaidoh’s body could be.
But Kaidoh’s body is surprising him each time he explores it further; he wants to keep doing this, to get to know every detail. To feel everything there is to feel.
Kaidoh lets out a thick groan against the side of Momoshiro's face, too wrapped up in things now to remember to be embarrassed about the sounds he's making, sounds Momoshiro is making him make. He arches his neck back and sucks in air, eyes squeezed tightly shut. It's getting harder to breathe.
Every part of him is alert and reacting on instinct, from his fingertips to his toes to the angry erection straining at his shorts. It seems to twitch and pulse in reaction to each sound Momoshiro makes, and Kaidoh can't help but drive himself harder against Momoshiro's body, against the matching hardness there, wanting to draw the same reactions out of Momoshiro. It's not something Kaidoh ever imagined himself doing; those kind of thoughts were always far too embarrassing, but now he's not thinking about it at all. If he were, he'd probably feel gross. Instead he just feels good. Really good. He wants to be able to feel Momoshiro like this all the time, whenever he wants. He stopped thinking about what he was doing a while ago. Now he's just doing it, like his brain has short-circuited and all he can do is let his body ride it out, feeling everything all at once.
He drops his head against Momoshiro's shoulder, panting out shallow breaths. His hands cling and scratch at Momoshiro's neck, like he's trying to hold on, keep this going for as long as he can stand it. One hand pulls up through Momoshiro's hair, damp and sweaty-Kaidoh can't get over how different it feels now that there's so much less of it to grab, but he still manages to tug his fingers through it and pull, dragging Momoshiro's head closer to him.
Momoshiro rolls his head along with Kaidoh’s tugging, leaning into it and it’s drawing out moans from him; it’s like Kaidoh knows just where to rub, just where to touch.
Knowing that Kaidoh is making the same sort of sounds, sounds that give him chills and thrills, keeps Momoshiro from thinking too much. From realizing what he’s doing. He gets a kick out of Kaidoh’s groaning and thrashing around, and moving on instinct like he is. Like nothing else matters, except them, and this moment, and trying to keep themselves as close as they can get. It’s all so rough and fast, like everything else they do, it’s never refined, but it’s real, and they both want it. If Momoshiro had the time to spare to think rationally, he’d probably think he’s crazy for wanting Kaidoh this much, for enjoying the hell out of it.
Luckily he can’t do much else besides keeping Kaidoh right on top of him, in his place, moving and rubbing their hard erections against each other. It feels too good and mind blowing to have the energy to do anything else, like thinking. Thinking is evil.
Momoshiro licks around the cartilage of Kaidoh’s ear, it tastes a bit like earwax, but this doesn’t seem to deter him, as Kaidoh is shivering and responding to every lick and touch he makes. Momoshiro pulls away from Kaidoh’s ear, then kisses his cheek, before putting his lips on Kaidoh’s mouth again. It feels hot and sore, like it’s taken a beating, but Kaidoh can always take it, and Momoshiro can too. He wants to do this all the time, to see Kaidoh like this, to have him against him; there’s nothing else he wants more.
Except maybe some extra friction.
Part 3
Location: At Kaidoh's hut
Time: August 31
Rating: R
Summary: Second part. Momo and Kaidoh return to the hut and Kaidoh gives Momo a haircut. Which leads to other things.
Kaidoh sighs. It's been fifteen minutes, and Kaidoh is still thinking about Momoshiro's hair. Without wanting to, he starts worrying about the fact that he's left Momoshiro alone with scissors. Momoshiro, the idiot, can't even tie a bandana on his own; the idea of him snipping scissors around his scalp is kind of frightening. He knows he shouldn't worry, he shouldn't be thinking about Momoshiro at all, but he can't help his weird instinct to want to do things for him. It's a really stupid impulse, but it's not something he can help.
So he jogs back toward the hut, running along the treeline so he won't be immediately spotted. He tells himself he's just going to check on Momoshiro, make sure he's not bleeding from the head from some freak scissor wound. It's certainly not that he can't get enough of him or that he wants to be close to him. That's the last thing Kaidoh wants this week. At least, that's the last thing Kaidoh wants to want.
Momoshiro’s got a makeshift hair salon propped up right outside the hut, right in the shade. Which really only consists of an upside down bucket he’s sitting on, scissors in his hand, and a water bottle sitting right next to him. His black hair is wet, and clings to his forehead and his bare neck. He’s also taken off his shirt, so that he won’t be stuck with hairs down his shirt (that’s one of the most annoying things in the world). Water trails down from his hair over his back, and it feels sort of nice and cool like that, he doesn’t hate it, not in this heat.
Now, if only he had a mirror so he could see what he’s cutting. Instead, he blindly grabs a bunch of hair right in front of his eyes, and shoves it in between the cool blades of the scissors. He cuts it off in one snap, so that it stops right at his eyebrows. He’s sure it’s completely uneven. Alright, this wasn’t that bad, he can do it like this. He cuts some more off at the front of his face, his long black hair falling down onto his chest and landing in the sand. He probably looks like he’s got a really hairy chest, and it was Kaidoh who was supposed to be the gorilla here.
Stupid Kaidoh, of course he won’t cut off his ear. He’s not dumb.
Kaidoh walks up to the hut from behind so he doesn't run into Momoshiro right away, although once he sees the bucket and Momoshiro sitting there on it shirtless, he immediately regrets this approach, because it makes him seem like a creep, like he's deliberately sneaking up on Momoshiro or something. So before he's too close, before he's crossed the threshold into total stalker territory, Kaidoh clears his throat loudly to announce himself. And also because the sight of so much of Momoshiro's bare skin makes him feel like there's actually something stuck in there.
Momoshiro’s snipping away at the bangs of his hair, and he barely notices the grumpy throaty sound Kaidoh makes, but he does look up, scissors still stuck in his hair, and he spots Kaidoh, sneaking around the hut like a stalker. Momoshiro feels exposed; he’s got no shirt on, and he’s sitting there with scissors in his hair, and now Kaidoh’s seen him fumbling around, not knowing what to do.
Now he sort of wishes he didn’t cut his bangs, because his cheeks are already flaring up with heat from embarrassment.
“What,” Momoshiro says with a huff. He tries to not let it show that there’s a change in the atmosphere, a tension in the air as soon as their eyes met, for however brief it was. “I didn’t cut my ear off, okay.”
"I can see that," Kaidoh replies, voice gruff. He's trying to ignore the persistent tingle in his stomach. He's trying not to look at Momoshiro, but he can't help it. There's a lot of him there to look at right now.
"The front looks terrible," he points out, and not just because it feels easy to make a jab at Momoshiro. The bangs really do look jagged. If this were a week ago, if … things … hadn't happened, it would be funny. Now it just makes Kaidoh feel even weirder.
Momoshiro removes the scissors from his hair, and he wipes his chest clean. He can’t see how terrible it looks like, but considering this is Kaidoh, who thinks everything Momoshiro does is terrible, he takes it with a grain of salt.
“Better than what you could do,” says Momoshiro. It’s still an instinct within him to disagree and fight on every subject with Kaidoh, it’s simply part of who he is-and it sucks that he has to keep himself in check. Any more arguing … might lead to a fight. And this time, there’s no shirt to grab onto, and there’s some dangerous scissors in his hand.
No, they definitely cannot fight.
Kaidoh glares at him. "I'd at least be able to cut it straight." Assuming he could do it without his hands shaking. Did Momoshiro have to take his shirt off for a hair cut? And what's with all the water? It's like he's glistening in the sun. It's totally disgusting. Kaidoh forces himself to look at the shiny scissors instead.
"And how are you going to do the back?" he asks pointedly. "You can't see back there."
Momoshiro runs his fingers through the back. “I don’t know, I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” he says dismissively. Why does Kaidoh have to argue about this with him right now? Can’t he just go away? Go running? He’s always running. Of all the times Kaidoh is running, this is the one time he isn’t, and Momoshiro actually wants him to. It’s so backwards from what he’s usually saying.
“Why do you care anyway?” He looks up at Kaidoh, through his thick eyelashes covered in droplets.
"I don't care, moron," Kaidoh growls, his face flushing with heat. "I'm just saying it will look stupid."
“Yeah, well. I’m not the one who has to be looking at it.” And it’s true; there’s no mirrors around this island. But then again, Momoshiro had just implied that Kaidoh will be looking at him, a thought that gives him goosebumps.
Kaidoh hisses. "Well, I have to look at it right now and it's pissing me off!" The words snarl out of him before he's really thought them through. Wait … that's not what he meant! Why does he have to look? It's not like Momoshiro is forcing him. No, Kaidoh's doing that all on his own.
He looks down at the sand instead. Since when did he always have to watch what he says around Momoshiro? Why does it feel like so many things are off-limits? Why can't they just rewind a few days and try it again? Do it right this time and fix this. Is he going to have to be stuck living with Momoshiro and all that annoyingly uneven hair? It's kind of offensive to Kaidoh on a basic level in that he likes things ordered and neat, like his carefully folded bandanas. Momoshiro just has to disrupt everything all the time, doesn't he? Slicing jagged edges through Kaidoh's life. Asshole.
"At least let me fix that piece at the front..." Kaidoh says, voice a little quieter now, almost like he doesn't want Momoshiro to hear the offer. "I mean, what the hell, can't you cut a straight line?"
Don’t give him the scissors, don’t give into what he says, don’t even look at him-but Momoshiro is horrible at taking his own advice, and he flips the scissors over, the bladed end in his hand, and the handle pointing towards Kaidoh. He flicks his wrist at Kaidoh, his eyes challenging him, as if he’s saying; just go ahead and try it then. And it sucks he’s doing this, feeling this, because he knows he shouldn’t. Not when he feels so naked out there, stranded on an island with Kaidoh who’s making him feel funny things.
Kaidoh lurches forward like he's forgotten how to move and grabs the scissors. "Okay, stay still," he warns, because the last thing he wants to do is accidentally stab Momoshiro in the face. Sure, he feels infuriated with him (and with himself) over what happened, over what is still happening now, but he doesn't actually want to hurt him. In fact, most of his thoughts and urges involving Momoshiro are a lot more … pleasant. Which is disgusting.
He shakes his shoulders to loosen them-they seem to have twisted into a knot along with the rest of his body-and reaches out his hand to pull Momoshiro's hair up between his fingers. Momoshiro doesn't protest, at least not out loud, but he does seem to stiffen a bit in surprise. It makes Kaidoh's heart beat a little faster, or maybe that's because he has Momoshiro's hair between his fingers. It's slick from the water and slides easily against his skin.
He can't help but be reminded of the last time he touched Momoshiro's hair, but he shoves the memory from his mind, because he has a task to complete. He's going to fix Momoshiro's stupidly botched cutting job. He snips a clean line off from the hair and lets it fall back against Momoshiro's forehead. It looks a lot better than before, although it still looks kind of off, now that it's centered between all the remaining long wisps of hair. Kaidoh wants to cut them too, for the sake of balance and all. And maybe just because he wants to touch Momoshiro's hair again. His hands are itchy like they've been waiting for an excuse to all week. And well, Momoshiro isn't telling him to stop.
That’s mostly because Momoshiro has lost his voice to say anything at all. He’s kind of frozen in place, doing nothing but stare at Kaidoh’s tank top. There’s a few grains of sand stuck on it, and it’s really rather annoying to be looking at that, but it’s better than looking straight at Kaidoh, look into his dark eyes, look at his arms and how his muscles tighten as he snips at his hair, taking deliberate movements, slow and careful. Careful not to stab him in the eye, or careful because Kaidoh notices that Momoshiro is very aware of him touching his hair?
And maybe because he’s been wanting this ever since that day?
The feeling of his hair moving through Kaidoh’s fingers, to feel him press his fingertips against his scalp; it only brings him back to that day. That day when their bodies were a hot sticky mess, moving together in rhythmic thrusts, and Kaidoh’s lips devouring him as it seemed at the time, his tongue, hot, wet and terrifyingly good, wrestling with his own-Momoshiro remembers it in the greatest detail possible. As if someone had been recording it in HD, and it keeps playing back. Except it’s been enhanced, it’s not just in HD, it makes him remember the sensations as well. Those delicious feelings that kept changing and making his head spin.
His head is spinning right now, with Kaidoh’s fingers brushing through his hair, and the satisfying sound of the scissors snapping shut. Momoshiro is kind of torn; he wants to enjoy it-he can’t even deny this anymore-but he’s simply terrified of letting himself enjoy this. Who knows what will happen if he does? Who knows what he’ll do if he makes this weird delightful expression on his face, and Kaidoh sees it? Momoshiro closes his eyes, as if somehow this will make Kaidoh go away, or make him not see his expressions. He feels like hiding. But he’s frozen on top of a stupid bucket, so he can’t do anything but squirm.
Kaidoh finishes with the hair across Momoshiro's forehead-he feels like he's moving in slow-motion, as though, against his will, his body is insisting on taking its time-and moves around to Momoshiro's side. He's not lingering deliberately; he just wants to do a good job. He tries to think of it like folding laundry or washing dishes, just a simple chore, but it's not working. He can't make his brain turn off.
His fingers flick against Momoshiro's ear as he pulls at the hair there, careful so that Momoshiro doesn't think Kaidoh is trying to really cut his ear off or something. Momoshiro is already shifting around enough like he's nervous. Kaidoh's heart races faster-he's feeling nervous too. He snips the hair off, even and quick and the pieces fall on Momoshiro's bare shoulder and even against his neck and ear. Kaidoh starts to brush them off, but then freezes and flinches, pulling his hand back.
That's going too far.
He puts his hand back against Momoshiro's head, like it's an agreed-upon safe zone, and continues cutting, suddenly very aware of how weird this is. How long can this keep up without either of them acknowledging how close they are? At least Kaidoh can use the fact that Momoshiro's hair is already damp with water to hide how sweaty his palms have become. At least Momoshiro isn't looking up at him, isn't seeing Kaidoh's increasingly red face. And maybe the snapping of the scissors is loud enough to hide his weird shaky breathing. Why couldn't he just have let Momoshiro cut his own damn hair? Because it would have ended up all lopsided? If only it were that simple.
Since Momoshiro isn’t doing anything but sit there, eyes closed and focused on the sensation and swooping feelings running through him, he’s very aware of everything Kaidoh is doing. How when he moves around him and leans over his head, his shirt sticks to Momoshiro’s bare arm, or he leans so close, he can feel Kaidoh’s abs touch his arm. The abs his hand was running over that time. It’s making Momoshiro’s breath as shaky as Kaidoh’s, and yes, he noticed, of course he has. When he can’t do anything else besides focus all his attention on Kaidoh, of course he can tell how nervous he is too. So careful to not do anything out of the ordinary, to not make things go the wrong way, turn into a different direction.
Because it can all change, in a snap, all it needs is a little push, or maybe even a little touch. Kaidoh’s touches are driving Momoshiro nuts.
Can’t Kaidoh hurry up? Momoshiro wants to call him a slowpoke, to jab at his reluctant movements, as if he’s too hesitant touching Momoshiro. And yes, he probably is. It even feels that way, everything feels so forced and careful. Kaidoh’s trying his best to not make any weird movements, to not touch him in a certain place. But it doesn’t matter to Momoshiro; every inch of his skin reacts to Kaidoh against his own will. If it weren’t so terrifying, he’d probably feel relaxed, very zen-but that was before that day. Now it’s after, and now he knows it can turn into something much more, and they both know it. That stupid pink elephant in the room still refuses to leave.
Some of the hairs on his shoulder is starting to make Momoshiro feel itchy, so he peers through his eyes and slides his fingers over his bare skin to wipe them off. But since his skin is kind of damp from the water (or sweat?), the hairs stay stuck, and it takes him a few tries to get rid of it. And then it ends up being flung towards Kaidoh’s shirt, where it stays stuck, laughing in Momoshiro’s face.
Momoshiro quickly reaches out, pats his hand across Kaidoh’s shirt to get rid of the hairs, and retreats immediately afterwards. The palm of his hand is throbbing with erratic pulses he can’t control. He closes his eyes again, hoping to gain some sort of control.
Kaidoh snips at the hair at the top of Momoshiro's head, seeing it all flutter down in clumps, scattering in the sand at his feet. Then he moves around behind Momoshiro until he's standing directly behind him. He leans down a bit for a better angle, and his sharp breaths blow over the top of Momoshiro's head, through the newly cut hair there, as Kaidoh starts to trim the hair at the back of Momoshiro's head.
Momoshiro sucks in a breath and bites his lip; does Kaidoh really need to be standing that close!?
Kaidoh’s hand grazes Momoshiro's neck as he pulls at the hair and snips away at it. Automatically, Kaidoh can see goosebumps raise on Momoshiro's skin, and feels Momoshiro shiver against his touch. It makes Kaidoh's fingertips thrum with excitement. They want to make Momoshiro do that again. But Kaidoh doesn't; his still rational mind knows that would be a terrible idea, so he's more careful next time, trying to keep his hands from pressing too close to Momoshiro's skin, to touch his hair only, to cut quickly and then pull away, to stop lingering. But as the scissors continue to snip away at long hairs, exposing more and more of Momoshiro's neck, Kaidoh feels his willpower slipping. At least it will be over soon. And then maybe his fingers will stop feeling like they're hooked up to electrical buzzers and each touch is another zap.
This haircut is supposed to make Momoshiro feel more refreshed, cool-certainly not hot. Not shivering of heat, of feeling Kaidoh’s body so close to him once more, behind him, doing things to his head and his neck. Doesn’t Kaidoh know by now he’s really sensitive there? It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose, as if he wants to cause any sort of reaction in Momoshiro, and he’s doing a fine good job.
It only serves to remind him of Kaidoh’s fingernails scratching the back of his neck, his face burying himself into the nook of his neck, and gasping, and squirming, and then that tongue...
Momoshiro lets out a small sigh as he remembers the feelings, the pleasure, the excitement, the thrilling sensations. He wants to experience them again. In fact, he sort of wants to feel them right now, he doesn’t want to wait, he’s impatient, and now that Kaidoh’s making work of his neck and giving him goosebumps, he’s sort of losing his rational thoughts again. The thoughts that were supposed to keep him in check, to let him know that he’s supposed to be avoiding any physical contact with Kaidoh, and well, he should avoid him altogether, they’re simply slipping away. With each cut and snip, Kaidoh leans closer, and the warmth that radiates from his body hits Momoshiro like a tidal wave. He’s getting overwhelmed by it again, he’s starting to feel good again.
So instead of doing the right thing, like getting up and walking away-walk away from all these weird and mixed up feelings-Momoshiro instead feels like this awkward wall is crumbling away, and he leans back a little into Kaidoh’s touch. It just feels too nice, too good, too addicting.
Kaidoh's fingers still and he sighs as he feels Momoshiro relax back against him. The reaction is totally involuntary, the sound of his breath just slipping out of him, easy and relieved. It's just a moment, just a second, and then he starts moving again, continuing his cutting, but it feels more natural now. Just feeling that Momoshiro is less nervous, if only by some small margin, makes Kaidoh feel a little less tense too.
He trims the hair around the other side of Momoshiro's head, over his ear and back towards the front again. Each movement he makes, each time his fingertips brush Momoshiro's skin, he feels Momoshiro react, and it's spurring Kaidoh on to let his fingers linger. Each time, they stay a little longer. He hopes Momoshiro doesn't notice … It's not Kaidoh's fault, it's not like he can help himself. And he has an excuse-he's busy cutting Momoshiro's hair, that's all.
But then suddenly he's finished cutting, having circled completely around Momoshiro, and is standing in front of him once more. He crouches down in the sand so that they're at eye-level, and sets the scissors down next to the bucket. Then he uses his fingers to check that the sides are even and that he hasn't missed any spots. The cut looks okay. Definitely an improvement on Momoshiro's earlier effort. Kaidoh's too focused on making sure the cut is neat to notice how close his face suddenly is to Momoshiro's, to remember how awkward this is supposed to be, but for some reason, at this very moment, isn't.
He pulls his hands back and blinks a couple times too, because it's weird seeing Momoshiro with much shorter hair again. But kind of exciting too.
"That's better," Kaidoh says quietly.
“Are you saying it looked bad before?” Momoshiro asks. He’s trying to keep his thoughts off of the fact that they’re so close. Within a distance that can be so easily crossed. He doesn’t even care Kaidoh cut his hair anymore, leaving him hairy all over, it left him with an aftertaste for more.
Kaidoh snorts. "You mean before when you'd cut it all weird and slanty? Yeah, that looked pretty dumb."
Momoshiro bites his lips and he lowers his eyebrows at Kaidoh. “No it didn’t. I look good in anything. Asshole.”
"You're so full of it," Kaidoh retorts, and narrows his eyes a bit. "Moron."
“Dumbass.” Momoshiro pushes a fist into Kaidoh’s chest, that sends him tingling all over. This excitement is back again, and threatening to spiral out of control. “Why don’t you-” Momoshiro leans forward, teasingly so, until his chin stops at Kaidoh’s shoulder, and he wraps his arms around Kaidoh, sneaking around his back. His hand creeps up, until it grabs the back of Kaidoh’s towel and he sits back down again, the towel slipping off Kaidoh’s neck. “-give me this, so I can wipe these hairs off of my body.”
The towel is clutched in his hands, and he squeezes it against his bare chest; it feels warm and it really does smell like Kaidoh. He feels his eyes refusing to let go of Kaidoh’s gaze. That awkwardness, that awful dreaded feeling that he’s walking on eggshells has evaporated, and he’s feeling like there’s nothing wrong anymore. Like this is how it’s supposed to go, meant to be. There’s even a playful smirk on his lips.
Kaidoh snarls at him. "That's mine, idiot," he fires back, and snatches his towel back out of Momoshiro's hand. Or tries to. Momoshiro's got a pretty firm grip, so Kaidoh only really succeeds in tugging Momoshiro's hand closer to him, the towel in between them like it's some bizarre game of tug of war.
Kaidoh can feel his blood really pumping through him now, he's starting to get that familiar rush, like they're about to get into a fight. It's something he didn't think he'd get to feel again, not after what happened. And right now, what happened doesn't feel like it was such a bad thing at all, not with the way Momoshiro is staring at him with an intensity that makes Kaidoh feel like he might as well be the only person on the whole island, maybe in the entire world.
He tries to match Momoshiro's energy, rise up to his level, and growls at him as he pulls harder on the towel. "You don't get to just take it," he grinds out, but really he's thinking that he wouldn't mind if Momoshiro rubbed the towel all over himself, though Kaidoh would kind of rather do it for Momoshiro himself. Which is unexpected. And a little embarrassing. But suddenly embarrassing thoughts are just giving Kaidoh adrenaline instead of guilty waves of nausea. It's like he forgot this was supposed to be weird. Or maybe he remembered that it isn't.
Momoshiro lets go right as Kaidoh pulls at it again, making him jerk backwards. “Alright then.” He can feel his insides buzzing, like that day, which is starting to seem like a very good memory to him now. Things are starting to feel normal once more. “Then you do it. You’re the one who cut it up this much in the first place. I mean wow, just look at how much you trimmed!”
To illustrate his point, Momoshiro grabs a lock of long black hair that was simply sitting on his knee and he flings it at Kaidoh’s shirt.
Kaidoh scowls and plucks the hair from his chest and drops it on the ground like it's a disgusting bug. It's like Momoshiro is shedding everywhere.
"Fine," he says, and practically punches the towel into Momoshiro's shoulder. The contact feels good, really good. Kaidoh's been wanting to do that since Sunday, to just be able to be like this with Momoshiro again, like it's easy. Then his fingers uncurl and he presses his palm flat against Momoshiro's chest and wipes the towel up over his shoulder, quick and rough, like everything they do. He whips it around the back of Momoshiro's neck and over to his other shoulder, goosebumps are appearing everywhere the towel slips over, and then finally back to the front of his chest again. It's kind of fuzzy now from all of Momoshiro's hair, which kind of grosses Kaidoh out so he shakes the towel out into the sand, then drops it over the pair of scissors next to the bucket.
And because he can, because Kaidoh feels so relieved and a little excited to be able to punch Momoshiro again, Kaidoh jams his fist into Momoshiro's chest. The heat coming off Momoshiro's skin seems to scorch Kaidoh's knuckles. His heart gives a wild, approving thump.
Hair is swirling around in the air, like that obnoxious glitter that was in Momoshiro’s hair a week ago, just simply floating around with no aim or goal. Momoshiro looks up at Kaidoh, through the air filled with his own hair, acting like dust motes, like it’s some sort of confetti, and this is a scene out of a movie, with everything playing out in slow motion. Maybe it’s that HD movie he’d been thinking about earlier, because suddenly all those feelings are rushing back, and he feels that excitement again, simply coursing through his entire body, pumping out from the spot where Kaidoh’s fist is pushing against him. It’s humming with elation.
Momoshiro puts his hand on top of Kaidoh’s, twisting it around until his fingers wrap around Kaidoh’s palm, and he pulls it away from his chest. He leans his entire body forward once more, and tugs at Kaidoh’s arm to pull him in closer as well. He’s not thinking anymore, he’s acting on these feelings that he’s been trying so hard to keep under control for the past few days. Feelings that are screaming for attention, and Momoshiro is helpless as he can’t do anything but listen to them, to act on them.
The feelings are telling him to touch Kaidoh, to pull him closer, to feel him against his own body, to smash their lips together-he wants to do all the things he did with him before, to feel the same intoxication from back then. And right now, there’s no pretense in the air, he’s not forced to be normal, because Kaidoh’s staring right back at him, with a glint in his eyes, and he looks as if he wants it too. He wants to do anything Momoshiro wants to do. It’s enough to make him shiver and a red flush spreads across his entire face, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
Ah, he’s been wanting this again ever since that day.
The hair settles down between them, lingering in the sand. Momoshiro’s hand travels away from Kaidoh’s, riding up his arm, to his shoulders, until he clutches Kaidoh’s neck. The teeth marks are still there, fading away very slowly. They stopped looking embarrassing to him, and now simply makes him feel pumped, as if he wants to do it again. He slides forward towards the edge of the bucket to lean in close enough to … to …
Wanting to part from him again is the last thing Momoshiro wants to do; the thrilling thumps in his body won’t stop, it’s like he’s meant to do this. Everything clicks and is falling into place again. Momoshiro licks his lips to moisten them, and he flicks his eyes down at Kaidoh’s red ones. Those plump lips that felt like fire dancing on his skin. He wants to feel it again. He wants everything. He breathes out a ragged short breath, still staring right at Kaidoh.
Momoshiro stops, he can feel his heart stop as well; he’s so close to Kaidoh right now. Their faces are literally centimeters apart, and for a second, he has doubt cross his mind, that maybe Momoshiro wasn’t reading the situation all that clearly, that maybe he misunderstood. That maybe Kaidoh doesn’t want to do this with him at all … so he stays like that, close enough to do something, but stares at Kaidoh with bedroom eyes, his fingers fluttering around at the small of Kaidoh’s neck.
When Momoshiro touches Kaidoh's hand, his shoulder, his neck, Kaidoh feels his whole body seize up and shudder. He's been waiting for it, trying to deny and suppress it, but the truth is, he never stopped wanting it. And now he doesn't have to pretend anymore. He responds to Momoshiro's touches like they're electrical wires and he's the socket; the moment they connect, all the power switches on. His chest rises and falls, rhythmic and tidal. He can feel it coming-that tenuous moment where the cord between them is fraying and about to snap. They don't even need scissors to cut it.
What are you waiting for?
What is Kaidoh waiting for?
They're so close that he can feel warm air puff against his lips, wet and hot. Kaidoh parts his lips as if to speak, but all he can manage is a short, small murmur. He can't just say it.
His hand that was between them raises to press against Momoshiro's cheek, and it's warm. He's blushing, and Kaidoh's sure he is too, but there's no lingering embarrassment there this time, just anticipation. There's a feeling of excitement buzzing in Kaidoh's fingers as they slide against Momoshiro's skin, curling behind his ear and then roughly dragging forward again, back to Kaidoh like an invitation, like a challenge.
Kaidoh's parted mouth still isn't doing anything but hang there waiting, unable to form sounds, let alone words. He can't take his eyes off Momoshiro, mesmerized by his stare. His eyes look like every time they fight, only it's magnified now, they're brimming with fiery intensity. Kaidoh narrows his eyes to try and match him.
C'mon, he thinks, wants to growl. He can't wait any longer, and something about the way Momoshiro is looking at him, with his eyes like a taunt, is making Kaidoh feel heady and a little crazy. But it emboldens him too. It feels right, like this, and any hesitation Kaidoh might have been feeling is quickly vanishing with each press of Momoshiro's fingers against his neck, each breath quavering out of Momoshiro's mouth.
The cord snaps and Kaidoh takes the plunge, leaning forward until the space between them is swallowed up by his lips against Momoshiro's wet mouth.
Momoshiro lets out a deep and quick breath, and he immediately reacts to Kaidoh’s lips, eyes automatically closing. His brain is wired up again with all sorts of sensations, flickering on and off, and making his body react on instinct, against his will. But then again, Momoshiro wants this. He wants it so badly, so he presses his lips against Kaidoh’s hard. There’s nothing gentle about it, and there’s no trace of that hesitation he was feeling earlier.
He can’t see that pink elephant anymore.
It’s gone, replaced by Kaidoh’s touch, his lips, and Momoshiro’s other hand reaches for his shirt, and he yanks at it to pull him closer. Because that’s all he wants; Kaidoh, closer, to him-he doesn’t want to lose that experience again, so he’s savouring every minute of this, every second. There’s chaos swarming around in his stomach, and his heart is thumping in his throat, in his lips, sending small vibrations against Kaidoh’s own. He slides his wet lips across Kaidoh’s, hard, quick, urgent. It’s making his head spin again.
The hand on Momoshiro’s cheek feels warm and soft, like Kaidoh’s simply entrapping him. It feels strong and sturdy, like a support, that Kaidoh is really there, that he’s doing this too, with him. That’s all that matters, he doesn’t care about anything else anymore. The consequences, the awkwardness that might happen afterwards-Kaidoh’s moving his lips against him, so what else can he do but respond? Respond and react, to every touch, to every movement, to Momoshiro roughly sucking at Kaidoh’s lips, and once more pulling him closer, until he’s almost toppling over the bucket with Kaidoh pressed against his bare chest.
Kaidoh smashes his mouth against Momoshiro's, their lips making smacking noises as they part and press together again, over and over like they're trying to bruise. He's got nearly a week's worth of pent-up frustration rushing into the kiss, all of it pouring out of him. He didn't realize just how much he'd missed this, how much he'd been hungry for it, but now he's attacking Momoshiro's mouth like he's starving. He doesn't even care if it's clumsy and desperate because Momoshiro is reeling him in with the same energy, the same eagerness. He wants it too, every bit as much.
Kaidoh keeps drawing in sharp, hitched inhalations through his nose as he tries to shove himself closer against Momoshiro, wanting to feel every inch of his skin against him again, just like before. He's completely forgotten that he's supposed to hate this, hate himself for doing it. All he can think about is how good it feels.
The hand on Momoshiro's face scrapes back over his head, fingernails digging into his short hair. He shivers his other arm up Momoshiro's side, his fingertips scratching along Momoshiro's bare skin. It feels like he's doing something forbidden, but the way Momoshiro is squirming against him urges him on and his hand travels north until it's at Momoshiro's neck where he feels Momoshiro's pulse throbbing wildly.
Momoshiro feels like he’s cheering Kaidoh on, with the way his body eagerly responds to that hand at his neck, to those lips hungry for action, it’s like he’s throwing pompoms in the air. It didn’t feel this intense the last time, those burning lips on his, moving, sucking and releasing. Or maybe it did, it’s just that everything feels so great right now, nothing can compare to the rumbling vibrations he gets, shooting up all through his limbs, throughout his entire body, this need to fulfill, this urge to keep moving like this with Kaidoh. Keep moving forever.
When Kaidoh’s fingernails scratch against his neck, Momoshiro can’t help but groan at the sensation; it gives him goosebumps all over, makes his toes curl up, and his own fingers scratch back at Kaidoh’s neck, like payback. Payback for throwing his mind into a tizzy, for making him feel so good he’s losing himself again. His other hand is busy trying to sneak underneath Kaidoh’s shirt. It’s not fair he’s the only one without one on, so exposed and vulnerable in front of Kaidoh, with red patches appearing on his skin and spreading like a disease.
And if this is a disease, then Kaidoh’s mouth is his medicine. His drug.
But it’s not like Momoshiro wants to be cured of this. He might have thought differently a few minutes ago, but every part of his body is disagreeing with him, especially Kaidoh’s hands, which are all over him, and his mouth is just attacking his own lips as if it’s the last day on earth, and they need to do it now. Momoshiro finally has access to Kaidoh’s bare skin underneath his shirt, and he strokes his hand across his entire chest. It feels like Kaidoh’s skin is on fire, it’s burning against his fingers.
Unlike last time, it’s Momoshiro who pushes his tongue against Kaidoh’s lips, wanting inside, wanting to feel that disgusting piece of muscle again because it doesn’t really feel disgusting. Not at all. Kaidoh is surprisingly willing, parting his lips against Momoshiro’s, and Momoshiro quickly dips his tongue inside. It brushes up against Kaidoh’s, and it makes a lightning bolt shoot through Momoshiro’s body. He’s left feeling like he’s shaking all over, but it’s thrilling, his heart is thumping against his chest, and that disease keeps rushing through him over and over. He swirls his tongue around Kaidoh’s, who is moving on his own accord, like they’re in a fighting cage, and they’re fighting to win. To gain that dominance over each other. It’s the kind of feeling Momoshiro has always had with Kaidoh, when they were still young, like eternal rivals. Except he didn’t know it could escalate into this, didn’t know it could be this good. It’s like he’s thrown into a land of unexplained mysteries, and he’s just finding out about them, one by one, exploring it all with Kaidoh. Each discovery more exciting than the other.
One more scratch on his neck makes Momoshiro hiss out a sharp breath, and he bites down on Kaidoh’s tongue in return-not because it hurts, but because it’s just involuntary, since everything is feeling so good he needs something to hold onto. Kaidoh shoves his body against Momoshiro in response, and suddenly the balance is tipped, and Momoshiro falls over. The bucket shoots out underneath him, and he lands in the sand with a muffled yelp, his back hitting one of the strong pillars underneath the hut, keeping it up, and splinters dig into his back. Kaidoh’s right on top of him, and the brief disruption severed the connection between their mouths, Momoshiro’s hand no longer underneath Kaidoh’s shirt.
Momoshiro looks at Kaidoh, a bit fazed, and everything is throbbing inside of him. He kicks the bucket away with his feet, reaches for Kaidoh’s shirt and grips it tightly, then pulls him up to his face, until he smacks his lips against Kaidoh’s again. He can never get enough of this, nothing will stop him anymore. Not even a hurricane.
Kaidoh squirms against Momoshiro, crawling forward until he's straddling him, and then his hands are back at Momoshiro's neck, and on his bare shoulders, and down against his chest. They don't linger anywhere long; he's grabbing and scratching everywhere he can, like he can't get enough. Kaidoh gets a kick out of it, a high that's better than running, from each little gasp Momoshiro makes against his mouth as Kaidoh finds a new place to touch, a new way to drive Momoshiro nuts. But it's not like Kaidoh is himself immune. He feels his heart racing too, his breath growing sharper. The way he's acting is foreign to him, but feels like an instinct he's always had and just never allowed himself to indulge. And now that he is, he's totally out of control. It's like he's not himself, or maybe right now, with Momoshiro, he's more himself than he ever was before.
He drags his lips over Momoshiro's, sucking at his mouth like he's inhaling him, like he's drinking him down, and then he bites at Momoshiro's lower lip, dragging his teeth over it. Momoshiro makes a noise Kaidoh isn't sure is a protest or a sound of encouragement, and he bites a little harder. He tugs Momoshiro's lip towards him, into his mouth, and then lets go and attacks Momoshiro's mouth with his tongue instead, shoving it between Momoshiro's lips and driving it against Momoshiro's tongue again.
This is literally making Momoshiro breathless, not to mention his lips feel raw and abused. Kaidoh’s tongue inside of his mouth is plugging him up, he can’t breathe anymore, not when Kaidoh’s hands are everywhere on his torso. Rubbing along the skin, heating it up, making him lean in and shudder, and it’s all going up to his head. An aggressive Kaidoh is always something he liked, riling him up, getting into a proper fight with him-but it’s never been like this. Kaidoh feels so much more different from before, but still so very much like him. Instead of punches, they’re eager strokes, instead of a kick, he’s biting at his lips, and instead of insults, they’re rushed gasps. This side of Kaidoh is something Momoshiro can get used to, or maybe he already has, but one thing’s for sure; he can never get enough of it.
The hands exploring all over his body are taking their toll on Momoshiro. He grows hotter every second, sweating like crazy from the friction, the heat, this unbearable urge. It’s like Kaidoh’s taken the reins, and he’s doing whatever he pleases to Momoshiro, and he can’t do anything but take it as it comes. He feels dizzy, he feels so high.
But then he does finally move again; he can’t let Kaidoh just make him feel all these amazing things. That’s like, not right, and either way, it feels just as good when Momoshiro’s hands are running across Kaidoh’s back as well. He really is muscular, and for once, Momoshiro can’t complain about his training, because it definitely paid off. The skin feels so secure under his fingers, and Kaidoh’s mouth just won’t stop moving on his, biting him whenever he feels like it, and Momoshiro returns the favour. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he doesn’t do it lightly. They never do things half assed, do they?
The closer Kaidoh leans against him, the more Momoshiro’s back is pressed up against the pillar, and there are definitely some hard pieces of wood stabbing him in the back. But it’s not something he notices, or really cares about. Kaidoh’s on top of him, and he’s hungrily kissing him, like it’s all he ever wanted. It’s all Momoshiro wants.
And right now, he wants to feel skin on skin. He’s so annoyed with Kaidoh’s tank top, it isn’t fair he’s sitting there with no shirt on. So his hands travel from Kaidoh’s shoulder blades to the bottom of his back, and stop at the hem of his shorts. He licks at Kaidoh’s tongue, distracting him a little bit longer, or well, enjoying this while he still can, before his hands grab his shirt, and he pulls it up, across his chest, towards his shoulders. Momoshiro pulls back, breaking their sloppy kiss. He takes in a deep breath and looks at Kaidoh, waiting for him.
Kaidoh glares at Momoshiro, annoyed at having to stop, even for a second. He looks down at where Momoshiro's hands are gripping his shirt, then back at Momoshiro's eyes, which are narrowed with a challenge. Well, Kaidoh's not going to back down from that. He's always willing to match Momoshiro, point for point, hit for hit. This is no different, only now it feels like the stakes are higher. There's a tingle of excitement at the prospect of his bare chest sliding against Momoshiro's own, skin against skin with no barrier between them.
It's a little scary too, but excitement outweighs the fear and Kaidoh sits back a bit on Momoshiro's thighs and covers Momoshiro's hands with his own, guiding them to tug the shirt up over Kaidoh's head. He shivers at the sensation of Momoshiro's fingers uncovering his bare skin as they move. Once it's off, Kaidoh flings it away from him into the sand and then lets out an impatient hiss before lunging against Momoshiro for more.
The sweaty collision of skin, of muscle, of Momoshiro under Kaidoh, is immediately sending Kaidoh into a weird, lightheaded daze. He feels like what they were doing before doesn't even count because it doesn't measure up to what's happening now, to the sensations he's feeling everywhere. Every touch is acute and penetrating, every part of Kaidoh's body hypersensitive. Momoshiro needs only to brush against him and it sends heated chills coursing through him, all over him. And he's doing more than just brush against him, their movements violent and frenzied. Kaidoh's mouth covers Momoshiro's own and it's like he's assaulting it with his lips, and tongue, and teeth.
Now this is more like it. Momoshiro lets his hands do all the wandering over Kaidoh’s body, one hand stroking Kaidoh’s chest, making circles, before going down and brushing over his stomach, over those flexed abs. The other hand is trailing over Kaidoh’s arched spine, tracing his fingers over the elaborate muscles on his back. And thinking this is getting in the way as well, he yanks off Kaidoh’s bandana so his hair is free to be touched. He can’t stop moving his hands, and neither can Momoshiro stop from kissing Kaidoh back just as much.
It’s like a fight with their mouths, their teeth click against each other every once in a while because both are eager, both want it now, and it’s making Momoshiro’s breathing louder and harsher, until he’s gasping for air each time they briefly part just to return again, tongues fiercely swirling around each other.
Momoshiro’s hand on Kaidoh’s back drops down, onto his own lap, and he rests it against Kaidoh’s ass, which is sitting there, jerking away from his touch every once in a while. He uses his other hand as well to snake it around Kaidoh, and with both this time, he helps Kaidoh push himself closer against Momoshiro, at the same time he straightens up his own back, away from the pillar, until they collide their naked chests against each other. Now Kaidoh is really straddling him, sitting right on top his crotch, which makes Momoshiro feel all sorts of things. He leaves Kaidoh’s butt alone this time, having accomplished what he set out to do-which is to get their bodies to touch as much as possible-and lets his hands roam free over Kaidoh’s back. Kaidoh wraps his own arms around Momoshiro’s neck, touching him exactly where he likes it. Momoshiro’s fingernails scratch into Kaidoh’s skin, because this is what he likes when Kaidoh does it, and thinks whatever he likes, Kaidoh does too.
Or, well, he better like it.
But there’s not much thought put into each of Momoshiro’s actions. He just does it, without thinking at all, because it feels good, because he wants to, he’s never wanted anything this badly before. Never wanted Kaidoh this much. And instead of feeling weird, surprised, or disgusted-it simply feels right, how it’s supposed to be. With Kaidoh right here on top of him, with his tongue inside of Momoshiro’s mouth, eliciting sounds Momoshiro would rather not be making, but he can’t help it.
Can’t help but be driven completely crazy by Kaidoh.
Momoshiro slurps up Kaidoh’s tongue, pushes against it, sucks on it, doing all kinds of things to it, when he pulls his head back, Kaidoh’s slippery tongue slides across his tight lips. But he stops right before it’s pulled out completely, and Momoshiro leans back again, sliding his lips over Kaidoh’s tongue, like he’s licking a popsicle, a very, very good and warm popsicle. He can feel Kaidoh pull him closer, his nails leaving a very pleasurable mark on the side of his neck, and it’s making Momoshiro shudder and all his muscles twitch at the sensation. So he does it again, sliding his lips over Kaidoh’s tongue; it’s just so moist and hot, and Kaidoh keeps moving his body against his, so it seems they both like it. Momoshiro sure does. The next time he retracts his mouth, he makes sure to lower his teeth so they graze over Kaidoh’s tongue.
It's getting harder for Kaidoh to suppress the weird, strained noises bubbling up out of his throat, and at the feeling of Momoshiro's teeth scraping over his tongue, a low, rumble of a moan rips its way out of Kaidoh's mouth and against Momoshiro's. He doesn't want to give Momoshiro the satisfaction of knowing just what he's doing to him, so Kaidoh tries to mask the sound with a growl. Not that it's much of a secret; his whole body is betraying him, so blatant that it might as well be sending up fiery red flares into the air every time Momoshiro does anything.
So Kaidoh retaliates by scratching his fingernails along the back of Momoshiro's neck, all the way over to the tip of his shoulder. He can feel Momoshiro's entire body react against him. His mouth parts and Kaidoh takes it as an opportunity to reclaim control of it, biting at Momoshiro's mouth, sloppy and urgent.
His thighs clench around Momoshiro's hips as he shifts in Momoshiro's lap. Even the tiniest movement feels explosive, and the toes of Kaidoh's sneakers dig into the sand, like he's looking for traction to push himself forward, closer to Momoshiro. One hand grips Momoshiro's shoulder to steady himself as Kaidoh grinds his hips forward into Momoshiro's body, seeking friction. He gasps against Momoshiro's mouth, his mind momentarily fuzzy, like all the synapses are firing at once. There's too much to focus on all at the same time and Kaidoh feels overwhelmed with crazy sensations.
Shit. Momoshiro gasps as Kaidoh’s body moves against his, and it feels even better than last time. All of it does.
Momoshiro rolls his head back, leaving Kaidoh’s lips alone for a bit. He holds Kaidoh tightly against him, arching his back into Kaidoh’s chest, it feels sticky and incredibly warm. Kaidoh continues to push himself into Momoshiro, and it’s just the kind of stimulation Momoshiro is craving. He tries to move with Kaidoh, but finds it’s a bit difficult when Kaidoh’s on top of him, basically immobilizing him, but he tries anyway, even if they’re little tiny movements and thrusts of his hips into Kaidoh. It’s kind of ragged like this, each of them moving in a different rhythm, but it’s exciting, and it just feels so good, Momoshiro really can’t hide the way he’s so excited. So aroused. Not like he can even if he tried; Kaidoh’s rubbing against it, there’s no way he can’t notice, and it’s obvious he does, because he is rubbing himself right on top of it, it’s making Momoshiro want to stop doing anything at all, and just let Kaidoh go at it.
But it’s better if he moves too, and his hands are itching to touch Kaidoh everywhere he can, and he is. From stroking over his back, to his shoulders, up and down his arms, his torso, and yes, even rubbing his butt. Momoshiro thinks the shape is kind of cute. But thoughts like that are knocked out of him when Kaidoh’s urgent grinding prevents him from doing anything but try to take in as much oxygen as possible.
Momoshiro finally pulls his head back, looks at Kaidoh’s neck, then decides to lick his tongue over the teethmarks he left there before, wetting the entire surface. Then he hovers his lips right above the moist skin, not touching it, but he sucks in a very sharp and cold breath; Kaidoh’s gotta feel that one.
He does. It makes Kaidoh's whole body tremble and a sharp hiss escapes from his lips. How the hell did Momoshiro have the ability to do that to him? Why is such a simple thing driving Kaidoh so crazy. It's stupid. Kaidoh wonders how to get Momoshiro to do it again.
He claws his fingernails into Momoshiro's shoulders, pulling himself closer, pushing his face against Momoshiro's neck and just breathing, or trying his best to, as he moves against Momoshiro like it's all he knows how to do. The jerk of his hips is becoming more urgent, more heated. His skin's temperature feels like it's rising by a degree each second.
Momoshiro’s neck tingles all over, blood rushing to the areas Kaidoh is pressing his face against. He sort of wishes Kaidoh would always put his face against his neck there, it feels wonderful, like that’s where he’s meant to be.
The moving of their hips continues, straining to go up, and then fall back down, and repeating this over and over again, making Momoshiro’s head spin faster. He wraps his other arm around Kaidoh’s back, keeping him securely in place against him, so that their bodies can move together, to create the best friction. Something is brewing between Momoshiro’s legs, it’s simply getting hotter and faster, and he’s losing track of anything else.
Since Kaidoh’s neck is right there, Momoshiro pushes his lips against the bruise this time. He kisses it lightly, thinking it might actually hurt otherwise, and when he gets a nice accurate pushful shove against his groin, Momoshiro sucks harder in return. He leaves the bruise alone, simply kisses lightly everywhere around his neck, pausing every once in a while to suck harder and feel Kaidoh writhe against him. It’s amazing, he wants to keep doing this, and keep rocking their bodies like this.
Momoshiro switches sides, going over to the left side of Kaidoh’s neck, where there are no marks, and Momoshiro feels tempted to leave one there again. Temptation is turned into fruition, because Kaidoh manages to move his hips in just the right way, and Momoshiro’s mind is back to spinning again. A hand shoots up to the back of Kaidoh’s head, and he shoves his fingers into that long hair, before grabbing hold of it, and yanking it to the right, exposing his neck. He first kisses it, once, twice, then grazes his teeth over it, from his collarbone, up to his ear, where he pulls away and licks Kaidoh’s earlobe. He’s breathing harshly himself, feeling like he’s gliding through some clouds, he feels that high, that good, nothing can bring him down. With his tongue, he pulls Kaidoh’s earlobe closer, until his lips are sucking on it, before he softly bites this as well. It feels soft and squishy, something which he never thought Kaidoh’s body could be.
But Kaidoh’s body is surprising him each time he explores it further; he wants to keep doing this, to get to know every detail. To feel everything there is to feel.
Kaidoh lets out a thick groan against the side of Momoshiro's face, too wrapped up in things now to remember to be embarrassed about the sounds he's making, sounds Momoshiro is making him make. He arches his neck back and sucks in air, eyes squeezed tightly shut. It's getting harder to breathe.
Every part of him is alert and reacting on instinct, from his fingertips to his toes to the angry erection straining at his shorts. It seems to twitch and pulse in reaction to each sound Momoshiro makes, and Kaidoh can't help but drive himself harder against Momoshiro's body, against the matching hardness there, wanting to draw the same reactions out of Momoshiro. It's not something Kaidoh ever imagined himself doing; those kind of thoughts were always far too embarrassing, but now he's not thinking about it at all. If he were, he'd probably feel gross. Instead he just feels good. Really good. He wants to be able to feel Momoshiro like this all the time, whenever he wants. He stopped thinking about what he was doing a while ago. Now he's just doing it, like his brain has short-circuited and all he can do is let his body ride it out, feeling everything all at once.
He drops his head against Momoshiro's shoulder, panting out shallow breaths. His hands cling and scratch at Momoshiro's neck, like he's trying to hold on, keep this going for as long as he can stand it. One hand pulls up through Momoshiro's hair, damp and sweaty-Kaidoh can't get over how different it feels now that there's so much less of it to grab, but he still manages to tug his fingers through it and pull, dragging Momoshiro's head closer to him.
Momoshiro rolls his head along with Kaidoh’s tugging, leaning into it and it’s drawing out moans from him; it’s like Kaidoh knows just where to rub, just where to touch.
Knowing that Kaidoh is making the same sort of sounds, sounds that give him chills and thrills, keeps Momoshiro from thinking too much. From realizing what he’s doing. He gets a kick out of Kaidoh’s groaning and thrashing around, and moving on instinct like he is. Like nothing else matters, except them, and this moment, and trying to keep themselves as close as they can get. It’s all so rough and fast, like everything else they do, it’s never refined, but it’s real, and they both want it. If Momoshiro had the time to spare to think rationally, he’d probably think he’s crazy for wanting Kaidoh this much, for enjoying the hell out of it.
Luckily he can’t do much else besides keeping Kaidoh right on top of him, in his place, moving and rubbing their hard erections against each other. It feels too good and mind blowing to have the energy to do anything else, like thinking. Thinking is evil.
Momoshiro licks around the cartilage of Kaidoh’s ear, it tastes a bit like earwax, but this doesn’t seem to deter him, as Kaidoh is shivering and responding to every lick and touch he makes. Momoshiro pulls away from Kaidoh’s ear, then kisses his cheek, before putting his lips on Kaidoh’s mouth again. It feels hot and sore, like it’s taken a beating, but Kaidoh can always take it, and Momoshiro can too. He wants to do this all the time, to see Kaidoh like this, to have him against him; there’s nothing else he wants more.
Except maybe some extra friction.
Part 3