[Log] Dirty Secret (Part 3)
Characters: Momoshiro Takeshi & Kaidoh Kaoru
Location: At Kaidoh's hut
Time: August 31
Rating: NC-17 for smut and inappropriate humour
Summary: Last part. Momo faces his pink elephant.
Momoshiro feels a slight annoying movement in his shorts. Their frantic humps aren’t precise or delicate, and Kaidoh’s grinding against him has shifted something in his shorts, more to the side, and he’s not getting the same enjoyment out of this as before since it’s in the wrong position. Momoshiro presses his mouth hard against Kaidoh, sucking and gnawing at his lips, while one of his hands pulls away from Kaidoh’s back, and it wanders down the front of their chests. He intends to shift his package back to the middle and continue this electrical pleasure fest, but when he reaches his own shorts, Kaidoh moves forwards and his package hits Momoshiro’s knuckles.
Suddenly the decision is flipped over in his mind, and Momoshiro turns his hand over, until he presses his palm against the bulge in Kaidoh’s shorts. It’s extremely warm, and sticky because of all the sweat, and there’s a certain wet spot on his shorts that’s getting bigger the longer they do this. He encloses his shaky fingers around it, and for some reason, it makes Momoshiro feel really good as well.
Kaidoh's body freezes for a second and he breathes out against Momoshiro's mouth like he's choking. Everything seems to pause for a split second and then he's able to process what is happening and an electrical current snaps through him at the speed of light. This is new. This is weird. Shit, he's really touching him there, isn't he? Kaidoh's face flushes hot and red with embarrassment and surprise.
His hand traces down from Momoshiro's neck to his chest, and for a moment his fingers flinch like they're about to form a fist and he's going to punch Momoshiro for being a disgusting pervert. But they don't, and he doesn't, just presses his palm against Momoshiro's sweaty skin. He likes this. He doesn't want it to stop. Doesn't that make him a pervert too?
Fuck that, Kaidoh thinks, and then stops thinking entirely and rocks forward against Momoshiro's hand. The sensation is incredible. Everything Momoshiro is doing to him feels unreal. Why would Kaidoh second-guess any of this? Why would he even want to try? Not when Momoshiro feels like he's burning a fever clear through him.
Momoshiro hums in a pleasant tone against Kaidoh’s mouth, enjoying the way Kaidoh’s reacting to everything he does to him. He’s not just enjoying this, he’s taking immense pleasure in the fact that Kaidoh pushes closer against his hand, rubbing himself there for friction. Momoshiro’s hand feels like it’s burning, his lungs feel like they’re burning, and he takes in sharp gasps whenever he can during the small breaks between their hungry lips. This is turning him on so much.
There are all sorts of impulses running through Momoshiro’s body. Thinking things through is really the last thing on his mind, and he simply goes with the flow. He pushes his palm up against Kaidoh’s hard penis, making it shift in his shorts so that it’s pointing upwards. He can feel the outline of it through the shorts, it’s not leaving much to the imagination, and Kaidoh seems to be really into it, what with his frenzied humps. Momoshiro thinks Kaidoh doesn’t need to move that much if he’s aching for the stimulation he wants, needs-he can rub Kaidoh himself, and he does.
He’ll do anything right about now to urge Kaidoh on to continue making those sounds, and keep his hot mouth on top of his. Thoughts such as how weird this is supposed to be never even cross his mind. Momoshiro simply stops thinking.
They just need to keep going like this. Exactly like this.
The palm of Momoshiro’s hand smoothes out against Kaidoh’s shorts, and he feels the hardness throb and pulse against him. He digs his fingers into the fabric so that he can grab hold of it, as much as he can anyway, it feels warm, hard and soft-not much different from his own, but this is Kaidoh’s, so it’s very different. And he’s just as hard as Momoshiro is, and that makes him feel all fuzzy and excited inside. He pushes his tongue against Kaidoh’s before he starts to stroke it up and down. He’s temporarily forgotten about his own situation, though every time he strokes down, his hand touches the base of his own erection, so Momoshiro is not about to complain.
Kaidoh squirms in Momoshiro's lap. It's a little embarrassing just how much this is driving him crazy, how he can't control the way his fingers clench around Momoshiro's shoulder, so hard it's driving his fingernails into the skin, how he keeps exhaling sharp, eager little sounds against Momoshiro's lips, sounds he swears he's never heard himself make before. Fights with Momoshiro have always been tempered chaos; they know how to push each other but also know where the limits are. But now it feels like there are no limits. There are no rules or boundaries. Kaidoh hadn't realized it was possible to push things this far. Even crazier is the fact that Momoshiro is just as into it as he is, touching Kaidoh everywhere, exactly where he needs it. And that's weird too. Rather abruptly, this … thing … changed from something Kaidoh never let himself even think about, to something he wants, to something he now needs desperately. It's making it hard for Kaidoh to remember to breathe, and his lips swipe off Momoshiro's mouth, dragging across his cheek as Kaidoh sucks in air like he's surfacing from deep water.
He pants against the side of Momoshiro's face and reels at the sensation of Momoshiro's hand stroking against him. The glide of fingertips over the front of his shorts is dizzying, it's driving Kaidoh into a daze. He's arching against him still, but feels like he doesn't even need to, not with the way Momoshiro is touching him. Kaidoh doesn't want it to ever stop. With each breath he exhales, the air around them seems to thicken, warm and humid. Everything is getting slick and sticky.
He pulls away from Momoshiro's face for a moment and just watches him, looks at his mouth, swollen and damp and his eyes shut like this is the only thing he's thinking about, the only thing he's focused on. It makes Kaidoh's cheeks heat up, just when he thought it wasn't possible for his face to get any warmer. But seeing Momoshiro like this, like this because of him is embarrassing, but also beyond exhilarating. Kaidoh shudders and drops his face into the crook of Momoshiro's neck, squeezing his eyes shut again and pressing his mouth against the skin there with the force of a punch.
The hand at Momoshiro's chest scratches down his torso, and Kaidoh feels it start to shake as it creeps lower, sliding between their bodies, getting nearly trapped between their sweaty skin, until he's at the front of Momoshiro's shorts. He slides his palm against Momoshiro's erection, making Momoshiro jerk towards him, and Kaidoh's breath quickens. His pulse feels like it's about to leap out of his neck. It's a little scary, but it's also a rush, and Momoshiro's doing it too; they're doing it together. Kaidoh's fingers get a little more daring, the touch becoming less tentative, and he tries to match what Momoshiro is doing, to stroke him in the same rhythm. He wants to make him feel just as good.
Shit, shit, shit, shit-yes.
Momoshiro is getting overloaded by all these sensations, these thumping and pumping, and fizzly feelings that are erupting everywhere inside of him. He leans right into Kaidoh’s hand, and he’s pressing them against each other, barely leaving them any room to move, but it just feels so damn good, he can’t help himself. Can’t do anything but moan right into Kaidoh’s ear, every fiber of embarrassment and shame has left his body. He doesn’t care anymore, he only cares how good this feels, how good Kaidoh feels against his own hand, and how Kaidoh is matching the same pace. This is something he never thought would ever happen, but it is.
This definitely beats fantasizing and masturbating on his own. It can’t even be compared. Kaidoh’s hand is just so different and satisfies him in ways he’s never achieved on his own. Though he certainly has gathered new masturbation material ...
Momoshiro slings his other free arm around Kaidoh’s back, to keep them close together, but not that he really needs to, Kaidoh’s doing this fine on his own, leaning against Momoshiro for support. He looks and sounds so out of it. Momoshiro can’t say much himself, as he’s hissing and groaning with each stroke Kaidoh makes, it makes him stroke Kaidoh faster in return. Harder, rougher. He leans his head against the side of Kaidoh’s head, and keeps him there, as if he’s something precious that needs to be protected, something he shouldn’t ever let go.
Not that he even wants to, he feels glued to Kaidoh. Leaving him isn’t even an option. Stopping isn’t either. So they continue like this, pressed against each other, and rubbing through their shorts.
Damn shorts are in the way, Momoshiro thinks. He kisses Kaidoh wherever his lips can reach, on his neck, his collarbone, his temple, his cheek, his ear, everywhere really. The hand on Kaidoh’s back is having fun pulling at his hair, but he’s mostly focused on the action below, the furious rubbing that’s going on. His shorts feel stained and sticky, and the fierce friction from his cotton shorts are beginning to wear him down.
They really are in the way.
Momoshiro doesn’t take them off, of course not-he can’t, not with Kaidoh on top of him. And stopping isn’t an option. So he raises his hand across Kaidoh’s lump, finds the hem, and wedges his fingers underneath it, making sure to go down his boxer shorts too. His fingers make contact with the scorching skin of the glans; it’s completely wet. Then quickly, he wraps his entire hand around it, skin on skin, it feels like such a burning fizzle. He worms it out of Kaidoh’s shorts, until it’s out in the open air between them. Momoshiro takes a moment to get used to the feeling of it in his hands, then continues his stroking, this time being able to feel the skin rub up and down against the blood vessels underneath it. It’s so different from his own, and it’s so exciting. Kaidoh’s hand against him feels exciting too. It’s the greatest rush on earth.
It’s not like he’s secretly measuring the length of Kaidoh’s penis, but when it’s in his hand like that, throbbing and twitching, he can’t help himself. Momoshiro has seen it before, years ago when they showered together, but it was nothing like this. Not when it’s fully upright and thick with blood-all because of him. He shudders and his shoulders tremble against Kaidoh’s chest.
Momoshiro arches his hips forwards against Kaidoh’s hand, urgent and needy, hoping he’ll get the hint, because he sure as hell isn’t going to ask for it.
Kaidoh jerks against Momoshiro's hand and hisses hard into his neck. The blood pounding against his eardrums seems to be screaming at him, but the words are incoherent. Kaidoh can't make sense of them. He can't make sense of anything. All remnants of logic, among other things, have traveled south and his head feels like it's empty, or simply full of fluff. It's like he knows what's happening-he can feel Momoshiro's hand stroking him, fingers curled around his erection, the warm pressure building inside of it-he knows it's there, knows Momoshiro is there, but at the same time it feels totally surreal. It feels like it can't be actually happening.
At least Kaidoh's body still seems able to make sense of what's going on. His fingers move against Momoshiro like instinct, curling around the bulge in his shorts and stroking upwards. Each reaction he draws out of Momoshiro, each gasp and moan, urges Kaidoh on, because he's controlling them. No, they're controlling each other. It feels competitive, Momoshiro keeps trying to drive the pace faster, and Kaidoh isn't about to lose. Each thing Momoshiro is doing feels like it's pushing things a little further, like he's taunting Kaidoh, waiting to see if Kaidoh will back down or be up for the challenge. Just how far can he take this? How far are they both willing to go? Whatever it is, Kaidoh's not going to back down. He won't let Momoshiro have the satisfaction of having beaten him at something. Even if that something is … whatever this is.
So Kaidoh slides his hand up, slipping against Momoshiro's own as he does-it's really cramped down there between their bodies, not to mention sweaty-until he finds the band on Momoshiro's shorts and shoves his fingers down under it to where Momoshiro's penis is already twitching, eager for attention.
Momoshiro immediately jerks his entire body and bangs his head against Kaidoh’s, taking in a sharp breath. This definitely feels better, Kaidoh’s bony fingers around his own hard flesh, it’s just what he’s craving.
If someone had told Kaidoh yesterday that he was going to be sticking his hand down Momoshiro's shorts and that he'd like doing it, he would have punched them in the face. But here he is, fingers easily slipping around Momoshiro's hard length and pulling at it with ragged strokes as he tries to fall into a steady rhythm. With each movement he makes, with each movement Momoshiro makes, Kaidoh's breathing grows a little more strained. He knows Momoshiro can hear it. He knows Momoshiro can feel it too.
Momoshiro’s hearing leaves a little more to be desired, he feels like he’s turning deaf with his heartbeat pounding at his ear drums. With blood rushing through his entire head; he can’t hear anything clearly anymore. He’s just so focused on the friction of their hands, stroking up and down, it feels fucking amazing, and Momoshiro feels like taking his time to enjoy this, but on the other hand, he feels like he won’t last long at all. No, everything is just one big turn on for him, and it’s making him creep closer to the edge. Or more accurately; he’s speeding towards the finish line.
Since this is Kaidoh, who is sitting on him, naked chests bumping into each other every once in a while, hands furiously rubbing up and down, and Kaidoh’s lips leaning against his collarbone, making noises Momoshiro has only heard in adult videos. This is much better than that, it’s probably the best thing he’s felt before in his life. Even winning the nationals with Kaidoh doesn’t compare, because now he’s here with Kaidoh, wanting the same thing, doing the same thing-they’re on the same wavelength, and it’s a connection Momoshiro gets high off, like he’s getting drunk.
Momoshiro’s breathing is so unsteady and irregular, sometimes he sucks in a breath and holds it in, it magnifies all the feelings as he’s so focused on it, completely engrossed with the pleasure Kaidoh is giving him. He wants to do the same, he hopes he’s doing the same, and if Kaidoh’s face is any indication, he thinks he’s doing the same.
He bumps his forehead against Kaidoh’s, looking right into his half open eyes for a second, before he shifts his head down, looking at their hands, looking at the skin going up and down. Momoshiro never thought he’d see the day where the sight of Kaidoh’s hand rubbing his penis would give him the best chills in the world. Nor would he think he’d enjoy stroking Kaidoh as well, he likes it just as much as he receives it, because this is what they do; they give and take.
It had once started out with fighting, and now it’s turned into one bizarre dream where their almost naked bodies are simply together, running towards the same goal.
At least it’s not really running, Momoshiro would prefer he stay put, with Kaidoh on top of him, not going anywhere.
But he is getting somewhere. Something is steadily building up inside of Momoshiro, something which makes him twitch and jerk, and gasp and moan, and then he’s back to pushing his lips against Kaidoh again. He can’t stop, he just wants to touch him as much as possible, everywhere he can. He tightens his grip on Kaidoh’s penis, and makes long deep strokes, moving the skin over the glans, and rubbing his thumb over it before he pulls it back down. He’s amazed with himself that he’s able to do this while his head is spinning mind blowingly fast. It’s out of control. They’re out of control.
When Kaidoh screws his eyes shut, his other senses all seem to leap into heightened sensitivity. He can hear every sound Momoshiro's making, from his shallow breathing, to the louder, more desperate noises that make Kaidoh's ears burn with embarrassment, because fuck, he's the one causing them. He can hear himself, too, just as unhinged, just as frantic. He doesn't even recognize his voice; Momoshiro's drawing sounds out of him he's never made before, never had a use for until this moment.
He can hear their hands too, the slick sound of skin against skin, an ever accelerating, repetitive rhythm that they're both riding out for as long as they can sustain it. It's really strange to listen to, it should be disgusting, but it's just making Kaidoh even more aroused, because he can feel what those sounds are doing to him, feel in the shudder of Momoshiro's shoulders against his body what they're doing to Momoshiro as well. Every touch seems like just what he's craving, and Kaidoh didn't realize he was even the sort of person to get cravings … not like this. But that's exactly what it is, a very deep and heavy need pounding within him. And he can't think of anything except … More.
He clutches at Momoshiro's shoulder like his palm is glued to it; he doesn't want to stop holding onto him. He's not sure what would happen if he did. He nudges his face against Momoshiro's head, rubbing his cheek against his sweaty hair and then drops his head and inhales sharply. Everything smells thick and heady. He presses his mouth onto the whorl of Momoshiro's ear and shallow breaths pant out against it. He skims his mouth down along Momoshiro's neck, and tastes nothing but sweat and heat, which should be gross, but he just can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of any of this.
He can't seem to stop putting his mouth against Momoshiro, wherever he can reach, always wanting to come back to his lips, which now seem impossibly red and full now. But it's getting hard to do anything but just try and remember to breathe. His mind is whirling from sensory overload. His body feels like it's becoming overloaded too; he doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold it together. Not long, he knows, not if Momoshiro keeps going like this. Kaidoh sure hopes he keeps going like this. As with anything they do, he's intent on seeing it through to the end.
For a bit, Momoshiro’s stroking becomes sloppy, the rhythm thrown off, all because he’s so concentrated on what Kaidoh is doing to him. Everything he does hits just the right spot, makes him feel just the right thing, and he’s left shuddering all over, the vibrations of Kaidoh’s touches each keep getting more and more intensified.
Like he’s a machine humming with electricity, being overloaded and static crackles everywhere.
It’s everywhere; Kaidoh can’t seem to stop kissing Momoshiro wherever he wants. And Momoshiro isn’t about to complain, the only sounds that are coming out of his mouth are short and shallow moans. Moans he should be embarrassed about making, but it’s hard to stop them, and it’s hard to give a shit with Kaidoh’s hand down his shorts, and his own hand rubbing and jerking as well.
If Momoshiro had any sense of shame, could take a moment to think, then maybe he wouldn’t be doing this. But he is, they’re both doing this as if they’re under the influence of something that’s preventing them from thinking too much, it’s making them unable to act on their rational thoughts.
It’s all instincts right now. Needs, wants, movements, a common goal of continuing this for as long as they can, striving towards that finish line. And enjoy the hell out of it.
Momoshiro throws his head back as he bites down his lips and shoves his hips against Kaidoh’s hand. It’s all getting so intense and so tight; Kaidoh’s hand around his penis is the most pleasurable thing on earth. And even though his strokes are different from what he usually does, different from what he usually likes alone, it’s all steadily building up, it’s all tightening around him. He tries to do the same thing for Kaidoh, but his movements are off, and sometimes he just focuses on the feelings Kaidoh is giving him instead, being out of order for a second or so, before he remembers that Kaidoh’s just as needy as he is, and wants this just as much-and Momoshiro eagerly rubs him again; he is not going to deny him this. Not like last time.
A certain pull of his skin makes Momoshiro gasp harshly because of all the tingling sensations he gets from it. So close. “Nghh.” He rolls his head back to face Kaidoh again, then swiftly tilts it to the left, and his mouth is back on Kaidoh’s attractive neck. On that soft area of red and hot flesh. He kisses it, sucks hard on it; the inhalation makes everything buzz inside of him, and his own sensations are enlarged and magnified-he sucks even harder, getting a satisfied reaction out of a squirmy Kaidoh.
He loves making Kaidoh act like this, if he’s not busy enjoying the same feelings Kaidoh is making him experience. More, he thinks, more squirming, more sucking.
Another jerk with Kaidoh’s magic hands has Momoshiro gasping against Kaidoh’s neck once more in ecstasy. He can’t take this anymore, so he does what he did the last time; his teeth bite down on the side of Kaidoh’s neck. It helps him stay connected to Kaidoh, stay focused, and simply feel what he’s feeling. Even his teeth feel sensitive. Momoshiro picks up his pace and rubs Kaidoh faster, hoping he’ll match the speed, because he’s getting so close. He puts more force into his bite, Kaidoh’s skin satisfactorily shivering against him. Then his lips purse together and he starts to suck on it as well-just like last time. If he doesn’t, he feels like he might fall off the end of the earth.
Kaidoh’s sweet smelling sweat has Momoshiro reeling around lightheaded; his focus is slipping.
Kaidoh growls against Momoshiro's neck. The sting of Momoshiro's teeth against his skin is maddening, making Kaidoh feel like he's shivering all over. He realizes that he is, his entire body alert to Momoshiro's touch like it's a strong wind gusting clear through him, chilling and burning him at the same time. The sharp suction of Momoshiro's idiotic mouth feels like it's leaving scorching marks against his neck. Kaidoh thought he was so familiar with that mouth, having watched it open countless times to pour out idiotic ramblings, but now every time it opens against Kaidoh's skin, he feels something new and different and incredible, things he didn't know a person could feel.
He rocks forward in Momoshiro's lap, against his hand, against his own hand so their knuckles are pinned together for a moment and he can feel Momoshiro's hand moving along the back of his own as they both slide up and down. Kaidoh speeds up and feels Momoshiro's body tense up, and then his hand starts moving again to match him, and then it's Momoshiro speeding up and Kaidoh jerking to catch up. Kaidoh's fingers tighten around Momoshiro's erection, feeling it throb against his hand as he twists his wrist and works his hand up and down, faster and faster. The straining heat is starting to make his fingertips feel numb, simply overwhelmed with sensation.
His growl turns into a groan and he nuzzles his face against Momoshiro's dark hair, against his sweaty neck, against his bare shoulder, almost like his hiding himself there, burrowing against Momoshiro's body as he rapidly feels control slip away from him. It's not unfamiliar territory for him, to be this unrestrained. Their fights have always been like this, with both of them caught up in the moment so much they both don't hold themselves back. But now it's different. Now Kaidoh feels like he can't hold back, not even if he tried.
Momoshiro can’t hold back either, in fact, it feels like he’s going to burst soon. Not to mention his arm is getting tired from moving up and down so much; who knew that something like this could make him tired. But everything is giving him weird and mixed feelings. He feels exhausted, yet pumped up with all the energy in the world. His mind is hazy, but very clearly focused on only one goal; to continue.
His jaw finally relaxes, and Momoshiro pulls his teeth away from Kaidoh’s skin, having bitten it raw and red. He closes his eyes and leans his head against Kaidoh’s, who’s buried into his own neck like he belongs there, like he owns that spot. Momoshiro isn’t going to push him away though, he likes Kaidoh depending on him like this. Needing him like this. And that feeling is probably even better than the skin of his penis being rubbed up and down. Together? They make his insides scream and are tearing him down, fast and rough.
The muscles in his arm feel strained and tired, but Momoshiro doesn’t want to stop, not when Kaidoh is still nuzzling against him and gasping out the most sensational sounds Momoshiro has ever heard. He doesn’t want to switch hands either, since that would be an uncomfortable position, so he just sucks it up, and keeps stroking Kaidoh.
And Kaidoh keeps doing him too. They try to match each other’s rhythms, and it’s not that hard at all, though a bit difficult with their bodies pressed up against each other like this.
Momoshiro takes his hand away from Kaidoh’s back, and slides it against his cheek, cupping it so he can gently pull him away from his neck, facing him again. Then he places his lips against Kaidoh’s; hungry and hot for them. They’re just so thick and moist, and glowing with warmth, Momoshiro sort of feels like a fish gaping for air the way he kisses Kaidoh; like he’s his oxygen. He’s all he needs.
There’s a growing urge within Momoshiro, and it’s speeding up. Each time Kaidoh jerks at him, he can feel his penis eagerly twitch in response. It’s not going to last much longer, and Momoshiro can’t do anything but suck at Kaidoh’s lips, and hope he won’t die from not breathing enough. He squeezes Kaidoh’s penis harder, and accidentally scrapes his nails against the flesh as he pulls up.
The sudden sharp, scratching feeling against Kaidoh's penis makes him hiss out a harsh puff of air against Momoshiro's mouth and his hips snap on their own accord. His skin is so sensitive that anything Momoshiro does, even by accident, is sending sparks shooting through Kaidoh's bloodstream. He strokes Momoshiro faster, his movements becoming jerky and a lot less fluid. It's like he's losing focus on his own actions, like everything in the periphery is starting to shut down from circuit overload and he's simply zeroing in on a single goal.
Kaidoh's able to do little more than gasp against Momoshiro's lips and press his mouth hard against him like he's angry, all the while still making sounds like he's anything but. And he really isn't. He's feeling better than he has in a long time, maybe ever.
He pulls Momoshiro's bottom lip between his lips and teeth and pants hot breaths out against it before releasing and smacking his whole mouth against him, and inhaling like he's trying to suck Momoshiro inside out.
Momoshiro tries to match him, pulling away, and reeling back in, pushing his lips up against Kaidoh’s. The experience is making him dizzy and exhausted, but he can’t stop. He bites down on Kaidoh’s bottom lip, prying it open and then he shoves his tongue in there, having a fierce wet battle with Kaidoh’s tongue. It’s creating sparks and they shock him each time they move-and they’ve moving all the time.
It’s starting to get too much for Momoshiro, it’s hard to sit there with Kaidoh straddling his lap, jerking him off, and tongues swirling around each other, and then not stop functioning completely from the overload of explosive feelings. But he keeps on going, because Kaidoh still is, even if both of them are becoming sloppy, unrefined, rough like they always are.
There’s nothing graceful about what they’re doing. But god does it feel amazing.
Momoshiro can feel the palm of Kaidoh’s hand run up against him, the friction is burning, and it’s making all his blood rush faster and faster. Kaidoh’s tongue plays up against him, and they both keep pulling back a bit to take in a quick breath; Momoshiro is sure he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t breathe enough. This doesn’t stop him from sucking in another deep breath, and he holds it, while all his muscles get zapped with electricity, and Kaidoh just keeps on pulling the skin up and down, over his most sensitive parts.
It starts to go down a bit in slow motion for Momoshiro. Kaidoh moves his hand just so, moans in just the right voice, and Momoshiro bites down on Kaidoh’s tongue as he feels something pull through him. His hand tightens around Kaidoh’s penis, and his movements have become unpredictable, he’s just extremely focused on Kaidoh’s hand, on his tongue, on everything he’s doing to him. With just one more stroke, Momoshiro feels that incredible urge that’s been building up all this time burst out of him.
He lets out a very loud and deep moan against Kaidoh’s mouth with the breath he’d been holding in all this time, and he moves his hips roughly against Kaidoh’s hands. A chilling rush pumps through his entire body, making his muscles twitch as he feels his penis throb with each contraction. He stops rubbing Kaidoh, leaving his mouth alone, eyes closed and face pulled into pure bliss. The warm liquid seeps over Kaidoh’s hand, and onto his own stomach. He shudders and shivers; he’s never felt this tired and good before.
Momoshiro sighs as all his muscles relax. He’s feeling way too good to do anything but slump against Kaidoh’s hot body.
Except Kaidoh is still there, still in that moment, and Momoshiro can feel his stare burning through his closed eyelids. He jerks at Momoshiro’s still hard penis to get his attention, and Momoshiro finally opens his eyes again. Right.
The hand around Kaidoh’s penis slips off-he’s way too tired to use that arm again-and wraps his other hand around it. Momoshiro’s grip is tight and fast; he wants Kaidoh to come as well. Momoshiro is still riding the waves of his orgasm, and it’s only heightened by seeing Kaidoh’s face screw up again as he gasps for air when he starts moving up and down.
With Momoshiro’s mind more clear, and being able to focus on something else besides his throbbing penis, he looks at Kaidoh as he jerks him off faster and faster. It’s a sight to behold, Momoshiro wants to keep looking at him. But he also wants to kiss him, so he does, smacking his lips against him again, while one hand runs through Kaidoh’s hair and pulls at it, yanking it really. He loves seeing Kaidoh’s reactions. And seeing his reaction from before, Momoshiro smirks against his lips then grazes his nails against the length of Kaidoh’s penis as he pulls up again.
Kaidoh's whole body shudders and vibrates against Momoshiro when he touches him like that. Momoshiro keeps doing all these things to him that Kaidoh never knew he'd like so much. It's like Momoshiro is figuring out his secrets at the same time Kaidoh is. And now he knows just how to rile him up. Well, Momoshiro always did.
Kaidoh's hand slips down Momoshiro's shoulder onto his arm, his fingers digging deeply into his bicep, like it's all that's keeping him from tumbling over the edge. He feels Momoshiro's arm moving, stroking him faster and faster, and the touch is sending heat coursing through him each time. It just keeps building. Kaidoh feels like he's aching for release and it's close; he can feel it. Momoshiro's grip is determined. There's something about it that feels familiar, like every time Momoshiro has Kaidoh pinned to the ground during a fight and is waiting for Kaidoh's move, eager for him to react.
It's hard not to react, not when everything Momoshiro is doing seems to be pushing every one of Kaidoh's buttons. He pulls back from Momoshiro's mouth, because it's overwhelming him, because he can't breathe. His lips feel like they're tingling with anticipation. His whole body feels like it's fluttery, trembling. It's all building, and Momoshiro isn't stopping, and Momoshiro is watching, waiting, he just keeps pushing those buttons …
Momoshiro seems to feel it coming too, because he's speeding up, and he does that thing with his fingernails again, and when Kaidoh opens his eyes, he sees Momoshiro staring right at him with this weird, indiscernible look, and it's enough. No, it's too much. Kaidoh's breath speeds up into tiny, hitched gasps of air, and then stops entirely as his whole face scrunches up, lips slightly parted and wordless. His hips arch and his whole body seems to go tense and rigid for several seconds as his penis pumps against Momoshiro's fingers, emptying what feels like all of his energy into Momoshiro's hand.
Momoshiro seems to be pulling everything out of him and finally, after what feels like the longest moment in the world, Kaidoh starts breathing again, air rushing out of him in a long, aspirated sound, almost like a low whimper. And then suddenly all his muscles feel like jelly. His body feels boneless, like he's been running for days. He feels really good, and really sticky. His mind hasn't clicked back on yet. It's like he's waking up from a very good dream, and is still lingering in the hazy few minutes before his eyes open. As though he doesn't want it to end, he slumps his head forward against Momoshiro's shoulder and just sits there against him, breathing in and out.
They can only hear each other breathe at the moment, their bodies slumped against each other, and their hands covered in white stickiness. Momoshiro thinks it’s kind of gross. But the moment feels too good to move, it’s like it’ll get ruined if either of them move an inch. And it’s not like Momoshiro wants to anyway; he’s still buzzing with a fluttery and exciting feeling.
So they stay like that, their hands resting in each other’s laps, and their chests moving from their breathing.
Momoshiro takes his non-sticky hand out of Kaidoh’s hair, then slides down his back, stroking it, lightly, comforting. Grazing over his spine, and going all the way back up to his head, where he pushes his palm against it to keep Kaidoh seated against his shoulder. Then he places one small kiss against the temple of Kaidoh’s head. He doesn’t know why he does it, it’s just that everything is feeling so relaxing and good and comfortable and it’s like he’s seeing the world through rose coloured glasses. He sighs against Kaidoh’s hair, his heart beat is finally slowing down.
Momoshiro could stay in this moment forever, not moving at all.
But he wipes his sticky hand off against Kaidoh’s shorts anyway. That stuff is gross. He also pushes his own flaccid penis back inside of his boxers, it’s kind of weird having it sit out there, a sticky sweaty mess. And because he’s feeling nice, he does the same for Kaidoh’s as well.
Then wipes his hand on Kaidoh’s shorts some more.
Kaidoh squirms a bit in Momoshiro's lap. His whole crotch feels damp and his fingers are sticky and tingly and it's kind of disgusting. And it's suddenly weird that he's sitting on Momoshiro, pressed up against him, cheek pushed against his shoulder and face burrowing into his neck. They're so … close. It feels wrong now that they have no excuse. He should move.
Kaidoh takes a deep breath against Momoshiro's neck, smelling his sweaty hair and skin. He can hear Momoshiro breathe in, and out, and then in again. His fingers on Momoshiro's arm can feel the pulse running under Momoshiro's skin gradually slow. It doesn't feel wrong at all. In fact, it's making Kaidoh's chest feel like it's pinching, which should be painful, but isn't. It's confusing.
He raises his head and it brushes against Momoshiro's hair as he moves and looks down between them, like he's surveying the damage. Well. That's. Uh. Kaidoh feels embarrassed. He feels really embarrassed. He wipes his hand off on the leg of his shorts and pulls back from Momoshiro, his face a weird mix of emotions. Mostly nerves. He feels like he should say something, but his voice seems to be caught in his throat. The sounds that were coming out of his mouth earlier are sort of mortifying for him to think about now. What the hell do you even say after that?
Wanna do it again? Momoshiro is a bit too dizzy to think straight, but he does know that it felt incredible, and despite reality slowly sinking into him, making him aware of the situation, he wants to do it again.
Which really does make him this disgusting pervert that Kaidoh probably thinks he is.
Momoshiro dares to look at Kaidoh, perhaps to shove him off, or to pull him closer-he’s not yet ready to face the consequences, can’t he stay in this moment a little while longer? He sees Kaidoh looking down at the mess between them, and Momoshiro follows his gaze, until it stops at a certain fuzzy part on Kaidoh’s face.
Wait-fuzzy?
There, right above Kaidoh’s upper lip, is a patch of Momoshiro’s freshly cut hair. Somehow it had gotten stuck on Kaidoh’s face. It looks like a dumb mustache … it looks like …
“You look like fucking Hitler,” is the first thing Momoshiro says after jerking eachother off and humping together against the side of the hut. But the moment is broken, the magic time is over, and now Momoshiro just thinks Kaidoh looks hilariously funny, what with his hair stuck to his lip.
So he just laughs, a heartfelt bellowing laugh erupting from his stomach.
"What the hell?" Kaidoh growls back at him, his eyebrows knitting together in a mix of irritation and confusion and his mouth pulling into tight scowl. His arm is ready before he even needs to think about it, and he throws his fist into Momoshiro's stomach, causing Momoshiro's laugh to turn into more of a choking sound. "You asshole," he says grumpily. Stupid Momoshiro. It feels like his annoying laugh is making Kaidoh's whole face tickle. It's never done that before. It's sort of weird.
Actually …
Kaidoh swipes the back of his hand over his lip and when he pulls it away there's hair clinging to his knuckles. His whole face goes red. "Oh …" he says, but the embarrassment doesn't last for long and soon he's glaring again and doing what comes naturally. Which is to argue over something stupid.
"What the fuck? What are you laughing at me for? It's your stupid hair, idiot!" he snarls, and flings the hair at Momoshiro's face, then knocks his fist into Momoshiro's chin for good measure. But this time not hard enough to really hurt.
“Asshole!” Momoshiro squeaks out. His stomach hurts, and his jaw hurts too, so he growls at Kaidoh and finally pushes him off of him, giving one forceful shove against his naked sweaty chest. Kaidoh topples off of him, and Momoshiro quickly wipes away the hair stuck on his cheek that Kaidoh flung at him.
Having no more weight on top of him, Momoshiro is able to move freely, so he finally pulls away from the log underneath the hut. He can feel his skin sticking to it, but he can also feel something else … something’s stuck in his back. He gets up and tries to crane his neck around so he can look at his own back, but Momoshiro is an idiot, not an owl, so he sees nothing. But it stings like a bitch.
“Did you do something weird to me?” Momoshiro asks as he’s still busy trying to look at his own back. He doesn’t realize how his own words sound like, but his stomach is hurting, his back hurts, and his shorts are a mess-he doesn’t really care at the moment what he sounds like.
Momoshiro finally stops looking at his own back (he’s been spinning around in circles), stops since he’s a bit lightheaded (and that punch still hurt!), and looks down at Kaidoh sitting down in the sand. The gravity of the situation finally kicks in as his eyes flicker over Kaidoh, whose body is sweaty everywhere, red in random places, but mostly his face, and he’s snarling at Momoshiro, but that snarl doesn’t look dangerous at all. It almost looks endearing when he’s got two bitemarks on both sides of his neck, his hair is unkempt, and his lips look like they’ve been through one hell of a time. Oh, and there’s stains on his white shorts. Not that his are clean … or his stomach. Momoshiro inconspicuously tries to wipe it off with the back of his hand, looking indignantly at Kaidoh.
And there’s still a bit of hair left above his upper lip, which is kind of funny, but Momoshiro tries to keep his laughs to himself.
Kaidoh stops snarling and pulls himself to his feet, grimacing at the sticky state of his shorts. It's really embarrassing. He wants to wash his clothes, and himself. He wipes his hand over his face again, managing to swipe away the last of Momoshiro's stupid clingy bits of hair, and unconsciously rubbing at his lips as he does. They're still really tingly, and feel kind of raw from Momoshiro's relentless mouth. That's also kind of embarrassing, but kind of … nice, too.
Kaidoh has to force himself to stop touching his mouth, and drops his hand and looks at Momoshiro, who's just finished spinning around like an idiot. Kaidoh gives him a questioning look. What's he doing? What's he talking about? Did Kaidoh do something weird to him? The question makes Kaidoh shiver, but Momoshiro doesn't seem to be talking about … that. After all, he wouldn't need to ask about that. He was there when it happened just now. He knows exactly what Kaidoh did to him.
So … what does he mean? What was with the spinning?
"Let me see," Kaidoh says, and puts his hands on Momoshiro's shoulders to turn him around, trying to figure out what Momoshiro was looking for. It doesn't take long. It's kind of hard to miss. There's a splinter of wood from the pillar wedged into his back, just below his shoulder blades. It's pretty big, kind of long and narrow. Kaidoh inhales a sharp, sympathetic hiss, because that must hurt.
"It's a splinter," he explains, and his hands leave Momoshiro's shoulders to trail down toward the center of his back. "Hold still," he warns. "I'll try and pull it out."
“Wait-what?” Momoshiro squeaks out. But he can’t protest anything else because in one swift moment, Kaidoh’s pulled the thing out of his back, and Momoshiro squirms and screams out loud from the stinging pain.
“Fuck! Geez! Whatever happened to counting!?” he yells at Kaidoh. His back is throbbing in pain right now, and that sort of pain didn’t feel as good as when Kaidoh caused it, scratching him all over. Actually, now that he’s got a good look at his own chest, it’s not that he’s red from blushing … they’re red trail marks from scratching. It’s everywhere. And now that makes him blush. His arm looks very bruised too; Kaidoh’s been keeping a firm grip on it all this time.
Momoshiro can’t believe what they just did.
But it did, and it really did feel good. And by god does he want this to happen again, but this is Kaidoh. What if … What if he … Well, at least he didn’t run off like last time, so that’s an improvement. Momoshiro stares at the sand below him, seeing the rough prints their bodies left behind as they … did that, the bucket kicked over, hair scattered all over the place, and Kaidoh’s shirt and bandana lying near his feet. He bends down to grab the black tank top; it’s sweaty and crinkled. He clutches it in his hand a bit, before he turns around to Kaidoh and hands it over to him.
“Uhh, here. It’s a bit hairy though,” says Momoshiro. He spots a few locks of his own hair stuck on it. It’s a bit embarrassing, but he can’t show that to Kaidoh, not when they’re facing each other, with sticky shorts, and both know exactly what they just did. He looks at Kaidoh, eyes determined and slightly narrowed, as if he’s waiting for Kaidoh to look back at him with the same eyes, to have that same look of approval and agreement that this shall never be mentioned out loud.
But hopefully they may do it again. Momoshiro sure hopes it will. Which is also really confusing to him, but at the moment, any sort of doubt or weirdness from this situation is pushed to the back of his mind; he doesn’t want to run off again like last time.
Kaidoh grabs his shirt out of Momoshiro's hand and holds it limply in front of him. He looks up for a moment, at Momoshiro, and then back down at the sand.
"Thanks," he says quietly. What a dumb thing to say. He shakes the tank top off, sending bits of hair flying into the air, then he picks up his bandana from the ground as well. He doesn't put it back on his head though, even though his hair is a complete mess. Instead he just unties the knot and absentmindedly starts folding the cloth up again. It gives him something to do with his hands. And it keeps him from looking back up at Momoshiro's chest where he can see all the other things he's done with his hands, because that's kind of-no, not kind of, very-embarrassing. Shit. Did he really do all that?
He looks back at Momoshiro and hisses. He's definitely not about to acknowledge that. His eyes flick to Momoshiro's mouth. Or that. Then his gaze drifts a bit lower. Or … He sucks in a breath. Yeah. No, definitely not that. At least not out loud. He'd rather die.
Stop being so awkward, Momoshiro wants to tell him, but he’s feeling kind of embarrassed too. Way too exposed. He’s got nothing to cover up with; nothing but his white shorts which are stained embarrassingly. Then he spots the bucket kicked over in the sand, and hops over to it, lifting it up to …
… cover it in front of his crotch.
It’s lame. It’s stupid. Momoshiro’s cheeks flush with red.
“So …” Momoshiro says in a tiny squeaky voice. “That was a good haircut.” Oh god he wants to punch himself.
Kaidoh snorts, if only to distract from how much he's blushing, how awkward he feels. He wants to punch Momoshiro too. He wants him to shut up. Or maybe just keep talking, because at least Momoshiro is able to, which is more than Kaidoh can say for himself. All he can manage to do is make weird hissing and grumbling sounds. It's annoying. He should say something. Things shouldn't be this quiet.
"Idiot," he huffs. Surprisingly, it does make him feel a little better.
“Dumbass.” Momoshiro looks up at him with puffed out cheeks.
Kaidoh narrows his eyes at him, but he's having a hard time looking angry because Momoshiro just looks really ridiculous right now. Which makes Kaidoh feel a little relieved. It takes his mind off all the more embarrassing thoughts he could be having, because it reminds him that Momoshiro's an idiot and he's still an idiot even after all that.
"Moron," Kaidoh says, but this time in a tone almost like he's giving a compliment rather than an insult.
Momoshiro sticks out his tongue at Kaidoh. A childish act, but what else can he do? He throws the bucket down into the sand, before promptly turning around, taking steps towards the hut.
“I’m gonna get changed,” he says. “You should too.”
"Yeah," Kaidoh agrees, his voice sounding automatic and mechanical, because it's a little awkward to talk so casually about changing out of their disgusting, sticky shorts. But Kaidoh's not about to call attention to it. Hell no. He'll just act like everything's totally normal, like this is just a usual thing for them …
Kaidoh blinks.
Could this be a usual thing for them? Is that … something that could happen? The thought makes Kaidoh's skin prickle.
Momoshiro tries to look confident in his walk, and not like he’s got spaghetti noodles as his legs, and he’s wobbling, walking with them spread apart, so that his stickiness doesn’t touch his skin. He looks like a stupid spider. But he holds his head up high as he enters back inside of the hut. He can do this. They can do this.
It’ll be fine. Even if it’s forceful and still embarrassing, as long as neither of them are running away, or not talking, then it should be fine. Momoshiro watches Kaidoh enter in the hut as well. It’s an awkward five minutes of staring at the wall as they both clean into new boxers and shorts, ones that aren’t stained. Momoshiro shoves the dirty ones underneath his blanket so it can’t ever be found again, like it’s his dirty little secret.
Kaidoh is his dirty little secret.
Momoshiro looks at Kaidoh, who is tying on his bandana. It’s all so frighteningly normal. Maybe normal enough for them to do this again. Because that’s all what’s on Momoshiro’s mind right now.
It can be their dirty little secret.
Location: At Kaidoh's hut
Time: August 31
Rating: NC-17 for smut and inappropriate humour
Summary: Last part. Momo faces his pink elephant.
Momoshiro feels a slight annoying movement in his shorts. Their frantic humps aren’t precise or delicate, and Kaidoh’s grinding against him has shifted something in his shorts, more to the side, and he’s not getting the same enjoyment out of this as before since it’s in the wrong position. Momoshiro presses his mouth hard against Kaidoh, sucking and gnawing at his lips, while one of his hands pulls away from Kaidoh’s back, and it wanders down the front of their chests. He intends to shift his package back to the middle and continue this electrical pleasure fest, but when he reaches his own shorts, Kaidoh moves forwards and his package hits Momoshiro’s knuckles.
Suddenly the decision is flipped over in his mind, and Momoshiro turns his hand over, until he presses his palm against the bulge in Kaidoh’s shorts. It’s extremely warm, and sticky because of all the sweat, and there’s a certain wet spot on his shorts that’s getting bigger the longer they do this. He encloses his shaky fingers around it, and for some reason, it makes Momoshiro feel really good as well.
Kaidoh's body freezes for a second and he breathes out against Momoshiro's mouth like he's choking. Everything seems to pause for a split second and then he's able to process what is happening and an electrical current snaps through him at the speed of light. This is new. This is weird. Shit, he's really touching him there, isn't he? Kaidoh's face flushes hot and red with embarrassment and surprise.
His hand traces down from Momoshiro's neck to his chest, and for a moment his fingers flinch like they're about to form a fist and he's going to punch Momoshiro for being a disgusting pervert. But they don't, and he doesn't, just presses his palm against Momoshiro's sweaty skin. He likes this. He doesn't want it to stop. Doesn't that make him a pervert too?
Fuck that, Kaidoh thinks, and then stops thinking entirely and rocks forward against Momoshiro's hand. The sensation is incredible. Everything Momoshiro is doing to him feels unreal. Why would Kaidoh second-guess any of this? Why would he even want to try? Not when Momoshiro feels like he's burning a fever clear through him.
Momoshiro hums in a pleasant tone against Kaidoh’s mouth, enjoying the way Kaidoh’s reacting to everything he does to him. He’s not just enjoying this, he’s taking immense pleasure in the fact that Kaidoh pushes closer against his hand, rubbing himself there for friction. Momoshiro’s hand feels like it’s burning, his lungs feel like they’re burning, and he takes in sharp gasps whenever he can during the small breaks between their hungry lips. This is turning him on so much.
There are all sorts of impulses running through Momoshiro’s body. Thinking things through is really the last thing on his mind, and he simply goes with the flow. He pushes his palm up against Kaidoh’s hard penis, making it shift in his shorts so that it’s pointing upwards. He can feel the outline of it through the shorts, it’s not leaving much to the imagination, and Kaidoh seems to be really into it, what with his frenzied humps. Momoshiro thinks Kaidoh doesn’t need to move that much if he’s aching for the stimulation he wants, needs-he can rub Kaidoh himself, and he does.
He’ll do anything right about now to urge Kaidoh on to continue making those sounds, and keep his hot mouth on top of his. Thoughts such as how weird this is supposed to be never even cross his mind. Momoshiro simply stops thinking.
They just need to keep going like this. Exactly like this.
The palm of Momoshiro’s hand smoothes out against Kaidoh’s shorts, and he feels the hardness throb and pulse against him. He digs his fingers into the fabric so that he can grab hold of it, as much as he can anyway, it feels warm, hard and soft-not much different from his own, but this is Kaidoh’s, so it’s very different. And he’s just as hard as Momoshiro is, and that makes him feel all fuzzy and excited inside. He pushes his tongue against Kaidoh’s before he starts to stroke it up and down. He’s temporarily forgotten about his own situation, though every time he strokes down, his hand touches the base of his own erection, so Momoshiro is not about to complain.
Kaidoh squirms in Momoshiro's lap. It's a little embarrassing just how much this is driving him crazy, how he can't control the way his fingers clench around Momoshiro's shoulder, so hard it's driving his fingernails into the skin, how he keeps exhaling sharp, eager little sounds against Momoshiro's lips, sounds he swears he's never heard himself make before. Fights with Momoshiro have always been tempered chaos; they know how to push each other but also know where the limits are. But now it feels like there are no limits. There are no rules or boundaries. Kaidoh hadn't realized it was possible to push things this far. Even crazier is the fact that Momoshiro is just as into it as he is, touching Kaidoh everywhere, exactly where he needs it. And that's weird too. Rather abruptly, this … thing … changed from something Kaidoh never let himself even think about, to something he wants, to something he now needs desperately. It's making it hard for Kaidoh to remember to breathe, and his lips swipe off Momoshiro's mouth, dragging across his cheek as Kaidoh sucks in air like he's surfacing from deep water.
He pants against the side of Momoshiro's face and reels at the sensation of Momoshiro's hand stroking against him. The glide of fingertips over the front of his shorts is dizzying, it's driving Kaidoh into a daze. He's arching against him still, but feels like he doesn't even need to, not with the way Momoshiro is touching him. Kaidoh doesn't want it to ever stop. With each breath he exhales, the air around them seems to thicken, warm and humid. Everything is getting slick and sticky.
He pulls away from Momoshiro's face for a moment and just watches him, looks at his mouth, swollen and damp and his eyes shut like this is the only thing he's thinking about, the only thing he's focused on. It makes Kaidoh's cheeks heat up, just when he thought it wasn't possible for his face to get any warmer. But seeing Momoshiro like this, like this because of him is embarrassing, but also beyond exhilarating. Kaidoh shudders and drops his face into the crook of Momoshiro's neck, squeezing his eyes shut again and pressing his mouth against the skin there with the force of a punch.
The hand at Momoshiro's chest scratches down his torso, and Kaidoh feels it start to shake as it creeps lower, sliding between their bodies, getting nearly trapped between their sweaty skin, until he's at the front of Momoshiro's shorts. He slides his palm against Momoshiro's erection, making Momoshiro jerk towards him, and Kaidoh's breath quickens. His pulse feels like it's about to leap out of his neck. It's a little scary, but it's also a rush, and Momoshiro's doing it too; they're doing it together. Kaidoh's fingers get a little more daring, the touch becoming less tentative, and he tries to match what Momoshiro is doing, to stroke him in the same rhythm. He wants to make him feel just as good.
Shit, shit, shit, shit-yes.
Momoshiro is getting overloaded by all these sensations, these thumping and pumping, and fizzly feelings that are erupting everywhere inside of him. He leans right into Kaidoh’s hand, and he’s pressing them against each other, barely leaving them any room to move, but it just feels so damn good, he can’t help himself. Can’t do anything but moan right into Kaidoh’s ear, every fiber of embarrassment and shame has left his body. He doesn’t care anymore, he only cares how good this feels, how good Kaidoh feels against his own hand, and how Kaidoh is matching the same pace. This is something he never thought would ever happen, but it is.
This definitely beats fantasizing and masturbating on his own. It can’t even be compared. Kaidoh’s hand is just so different and satisfies him in ways he’s never achieved on his own. Though he certainly has gathered new masturbation material ...
Momoshiro slings his other free arm around Kaidoh’s back, to keep them close together, but not that he really needs to, Kaidoh’s doing this fine on his own, leaning against Momoshiro for support. He looks and sounds so out of it. Momoshiro can’t say much himself, as he’s hissing and groaning with each stroke Kaidoh makes, it makes him stroke Kaidoh faster in return. Harder, rougher. He leans his head against the side of Kaidoh’s head, and keeps him there, as if he’s something precious that needs to be protected, something he shouldn’t ever let go.
Not that he even wants to, he feels glued to Kaidoh. Leaving him isn’t even an option. Stopping isn’t either. So they continue like this, pressed against each other, and rubbing through their shorts.
Damn shorts are in the way, Momoshiro thinks. He kisses Kaidoh wherever his lips can reach, on his neck, his collarbone, his temple, his cheek, his ear, everywhere really. The hand on Kaidoh’s back is having fun pulling at his hair, but he’s mostly focused on the action below, the furious rubbing that’s going on. His shorts feel stained and sticky, and the fierce friction from his cotton shorts are beginning to wear him down.
They really are in the way.
Momoshiro doesn’t take them off, of course not-he can’t, not with Kaidoh on top of him. And stopping isn’t an option. So he raises his hand across Kaidoh’s lump, finds the hem, and wedges his fingers underneath it, making sure to go down his boxer shorts too. His fingers make contact with the scorching skin of the glans; it’s completely wet. Then quickly, he wraps his entire hand around it, skin on skin, it feels like such a burning fizzle. He worms it out of Kaidoh’s shorts, until it’s out in the open air between them. Momoshiro takes a moment to get used to the feeling of it in his hands, then continues his stroking, this time being able to feel the skin rub up and down against the blood vessels underneath it. It’s so different from his own, and it’s so exciting. Kaidoh’s hand against him feels exciting too. It’s the greatest rush on earth.
It’s not like he’s secretly measuring the length of Kaidoh’s penis, but when it’s in his hand like that, throbbing and twitching, he can’t help himself. Momoshiro has seen it before, years ago when they showered together, but it was nothing like this. Not when it’s fully upright and thick with blood-all because of him. He shudders and his shoulders tremble against Kaidoh’s chest.
Momoshiro arches his hips forwards against Kaidoh’s hand, urgent and needy, hoping he’ll get the hint, because he sure as hell isn’t going to ask for it.
Kaidoh jerks against Momoshiro's hand and hisses hard into his neck. The blood pounding against his eardrums seems to be screaming at him, but the words are incoherent. Kaidoh can't make sense of them. He can't make sense of anything. All remnants of logic, among other things, have traveled south and his head feels like it's empty, or simply full of fluff. It's like he knows what's happening-he can feel Momoshiro's hand stroking him, fingers curled around his erection, the warm pressure building inside of it-he knows it's there, knows Momoshiro is there, but at the same time it feels totally surreal. It feels like it can't be actually happening.
At least Kaidoh's body still seems able to make sense of what's going on. His fingers move against Momoshiro like instinct, curling around the bulge in his shorts and stroking upwards. Each reaction he draws out of Momoshiro, each gasp and moan, urges Kaidoh on, because he's controlling them. No, they're controlling each other. It feels competitive, Momoshiro keeps trying to drive the pace faster, and Kaidoh isn't about to lose. Each thing Momoshiro is doing feels like it's pushing things a little further, like he's taunting Kaidoh, waiting to see if Kaidoh will back down or be up for the challenge. Just how far can he take this? How far are they both willing to go? Whatever it is, Kaidoh's not going to back down. He won't let Momoshiro have the satisfaction of having beaten him at something. Even if that something is … whatever this is.
So Kaidoh slides his hand up, slipping against Momoshiro's own as he does-it's really cramped down there between their bodies, not to mention sweaty-until he finds the band on Momoshiro's shorts and shoves his fingers down under it to where Momoshiro's penis is already twitching, eager for attention.
Momoshiro immediately jerks his entire body and bangs his head against Kaidoh’s, taking in a sharp breath. This definitely feels better, Kaidoh’s bony fingers around his own hard flesh, it’s just what he’s craving.
If someone had told Kaidoh yesterday that he was going to be sticking his hand down Momoshiro's shorts and that he'd like doing it, he would have punched them in the face. But here he is, fingers easily slipping around Momoshiro's hard length and pulling at it with ragged strokes as he tries to fall into a steady rhythm. With each movement he makes, with each movement Momoshiro makes, Kaidoh's breathing grows a little more strained. He knows Momoshiro can hear it. He knows Momoshiro can feel it too.
Momoshiro’s hearing leaves a little more to be desired, he feels like he’s turning deaf with his heartbeat pounding at his ear drums. With blood rushing through his entire head; he can’t hear anything clearly anymore. He’s just so focused on the friction of their hands, stroking up and down, it feels fucking amazing, and Momoshiro feels like taking his time to enjoy this, but on the other hand, he feels like he won’t last long at all. No, everything is just one big turn on for him, and it’s making him creep closer to the edge. Or more accurately; he’s speeding towards the finish line.
Since this is Kaidoh, who is sitting on him, naked chests bumping into each other every once in a while, hands furiously rubbing up and down, and Kaidoh’s lips leaning against his collarbone, making noises Momoshiro has only heard in adult videos. This is much better than that, it’s probably the best thing he’s felt before in his life. Even winning the nationals with Kaidoh doesn’t compare, because now he’s here with Kaidoh, wanting the same thing, doing the same thing-they’re on the same wavelength, and it’s a connection Momoshiro gets high off, like he’s getting drunk.
Momoshiro’s breathing is so unsteady and irregular, sometimes he sucks in a breath and holds it in, it magnifies all the feelings as he’s so focused on it, completely engrossed with the pleasure Kaidoh is giving him. He wants to do the same, he hopes he’s doing the same, and if Kaidoh’s face is any indication, he thinks he’s doing the same.
He bumps his forehead against Kaidoh’s, looking right into his half open eyes for a second, before he shifts his head down, looking at their hands, looking at the skin going up and down. Momoshiro never thought he’d see the day where the sight of Kaidoh’s hand rubbing his penis would give him the best chills in the world. Nor would he think he’d enjoy stroking Kaidoh as well, he likes it just as much as he receives it, because this is what they do; they give and take.
It had once started out with fighting, and now it’s turned into one bizarre dream where their almost naked bodies are simply together, running towards the same goal.
At least it’s not really running, Momoshiro would prefer he stay put, with Kaidoh on top of him, not going anywhere.
But he is getting somewhere. Something is steadily building up inside of Momoshiro, something which makes him twitch and jerk, and gasp and moan, and then he’s back to pushing his lips against Kaidoh again. He can’t stop, he just wants to touch him as much as possible, everywhere he can. He tightens his grip on Kaidoh’s penis, and makes long deep strokes, moving the skin over the glans, and rubbing his thumb over it before he pulls it back down. He’s amazed with himself that he’s able to do this while his head is spinning mind blowingly fast. It’s out of control. They’re out of control.
When Kaidoh screws his eyes shut, his other senses all seem to leap into heightened sensitivity. He can hear every sound Momoshiro's making, from his shallow breathing, to the louder, more desperate noises that make Kaidoh's ears burn with embarrassment, because fuck, he's the one causing them. He can hear himself, too, just as unhinged, just as frantic. He doesn't even recognize his voice; Momoshiro's drawing sounds out of him he's never made before, never had a use for until this moment.
He can hear their hands too, the slick sound of skin against skin, an ever accelerating, repetitive rhythm that they're both riding out for as long as they can sustain it. It's really strange to listen to, it should be disgusting, but it's just making Kaidoh even more aroused, because he can feel what those sounds are doing to him, feel in the shudder of Momoshiro's shoulders against his body what they're doing to Momoshiro as well. Every touch seems like just what he's craving, and Kaidoh didn't realize he was even the sort of person to get cravings … not like this. But that's exactly what it is, a very deep and heavy need pounding within him. And he can't think of anything except … More.
He clutches at Momoshiro's shoulder like his palm is glued to it; he doesn't want to stop holding onto him. He's not sure what would happen if he did. He nudges his face against Momoshiro's head, rubbing his cheek against his sweaty hair and then drops his head and inhales sharply. Everything smells thick and heady. He presses his mouth onto the whorl of Momoshiro's ear and shallow breaths pant out against it. He skims his mouth down along Momoshiro's neck, and tastes nothing but sweat and heat, which should be gross, but he just can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of any of this.
He can't seem to stop putting his mouth against Momoshiro, wherever he can reach, always wanting to come back to his lips, which now seem impossibly red and full now. But it's getting hard to do anything but just try and remember to breathe. His mind is whirling from sensory overload. His body feels like it's becoming overloaded too; he doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold it together. Not long, he knows, not if Momoshiro keeps going like this. Kaidoh sure hopes he keeps going like this. As with anything they do, he's intent on seeing it through to the end.
For a bit, Momoshiro’s stroking becomes sloppy, the rhythm thrown off, all because he’s so concentrated on what Kaidoh is doing to him. Everything he does hits just the right spot, makes him feel just the right thing, and he’s left shuddering all over, the vibrations of Kaidoh’s touches each keep getting more and more intensified.
Like he’s a machine humming with electricity, being overloaded and static crackles everywhere.
It’s everywhere; Kaidoh can’t seem to stop kissing Momoshiro wherever he wants. And Momoshiro isn’t about to complain, the only sounds that are coming out of his mouth are short and shallow moans. Moans he should be embarrassed about making, but it’s hard to stop them, and it’s hard to give a shit with Kaidoh’s hand down his shorts, and his own hand rubbing and jerking as well.
If Momoshiro had any sense of shame, could take a moment to think, then maybe he wouldn’t be doing this. But he is, they’re both doing this as if they’re under the influence of something that’s preventing them from thinking too much, it’s making them unable to act on their rational thoughts.
It’s all instincts right now. Needs, wants, movements, a common goal of continuing this for as long as they can, striving towards that finish line. And enjoy the hell out of it.
Momoshiro throws his head back as he bites down his lips and shoves his hips against Kaidoh’s hand. It’s all getting so intense and so tight; Kaidoh’s hand around his penis is the most pleasurable thing on earth. And even though his strokes are different from what he usually does, different from what he usually likes alone, it’s all steadily building up, it’s all tightening around him. He tries to do the same thing for Kaidoh, but his movements are off, and sometimes he just focuses on the feelings Kaidoh is giving him instead, being out of order for a second or so, before he remembers that Kaidoh’s just as needy as he is, and wants this just as much-and Momoshiro eagerly rubs him again; he is not going to deny him this. Not like last time.
A certain pull of his skin makes Momoshiro gasp harshly because of all the tingling sensations he gets from it. So close. “Nghh.” He rolls his head back to face Kaidoh again, then swiftly tilts it to the left, and his mouth is back on Kaidoh’s attractive neck. On that soft area of red and hot flesh. He kisses it, sucks hard on it; the inhalation makes everything buzz inside of him, and his own sensations are enlarged and magnified-he sucks even harder, getting a satisfied reaction out of a squirmy Kaidoh.
He loves making Kaidoh act like this, if he’s not busy enjoying the same feelings Kaidoh is making him experience. More, he thinks, more squirming, more sucking.
Another jerk with Kaidoh’s magic hands has Momoshiro gasping against Kaidoh’s neck once more in ecstasy. He can’t take this anymore, so he does what he did the last time; his teeth bite down on the side of Kaidoh’s neck. It helps him stay connected to Kaidoh, stay focused, and simply feel what he’s feeling. Even his teeth feel sensitive. Momoshiro picks up his pace and rubs Kaidoh faster, hoping he’ll match the speed, because he’s getting so close. He puts more force into his bite, Kaidoh’s skin satisfactorily shivering against him. Then his lips purse together and he starts to suck on it as well-just like last time. If he doesn’t, he feels like he might fall off the end of the earth.
Kaidoh’s sweet smelling sweat has Momoshiro reeling around lightheaded; his focus is slipping.
Kaidoh growls against Momoshiro's neck. The sting of Momoshiro's teeth against his skin is maddening, making Kaidoh feel like he's shivering all over. He realizes that he is, his entire body alert to Momoshiro's touch like it's a strong wind gusting clear through him, chilling and burning him at the same time. The sharp suction of Momoshiro's idiotic mouth feels like it's leaving scorching marks against his neck. Kaidoh thought he was so familiar with that mouth, having watched it open countless times to pour out idiotic ramblings, but now every time it opens against Kaidoh's skin, he feels something new and different and incredible, things he didn't know a person could feel.
He rocks forward in Momoshiro's lap, against his hand, against his own hand so their knuckles are pinned together for a moment and he can feel Momoshiro's hand moving along the back of his own as they both slide up and down. Kaidoh speeds up and feels Momoshiro's body tense up, and then his hand starts moving again to match him, and then it's Momoshiro speeding up and Kaidoh jerking to catch up. Kaidoh's fingers tighten around Momoshiro's erection, feeling it throb against his hand as he twists his wrist and works his hand up and down, faster and faster. The straining heat is starting to make his fingertips feel numb, simply overwhelmed with sensation.
His growl turns into a groan and he nuzzles his face against Momoshiro's dark hair, against his sweaty neck, against his bare shoulder, almost like his hiding himself there, burrowing against Momoshiro's body as he rapidly feels control slip away from him. It's not unfamiliar territory for him, to be this unrestrained. Their fights have always been like this, with both of them caught up in the moment so much they both don't hold themselves back. But now it's different. Now Kaidoh feels like he can't hold back, not even if he tried.
Momoshiro can’t hold back either, in fact, it feels like he’s going to burst soon. Not to mention his arm is getting tired from moving up and down so much; who knew that something like this could make him tired. But everything is giving him weird and mixed feelings. He feels exhausted, yet pumped up with all the energy in the world. His mind is hazy, but very clearly focused on only one goal; to continue.
His jaw finally relaxes, and Momoshiro pulls his teeth away from Kaidoh’s skin, having bitten it raw and red. He closes his eyes and leans his head against Kaidoh’s, who’s buried into his own neck like he belongs there, like he owns that spot. Momoshiro isn’t going to push him away though, he likes Kaidoh depending on him like this. Needing him like this. And that feeling is probably even better than the skin of his penis being rubbed up and down. Together? They make his insides scream and are tearing him down, fast and rough.
The muscles in his arm feel strained and tired, but Momoshiro doesn’t want to stop, not when Kaidoh is still nuzzling against him and gasping out the most sensational sounds Momoshiro has ever heard. He doesn’t want to switch hands either, since that would be an uncomfortable position, so he just sucks it up, and keeps stroking Kaidoh.
And Kaidoh keeps doing him too. They try to match each other’s rhythms, and it’s not that hard at all, though a bit difficult with their bodies pressed up against each other like this.
Momoshiro takes his hand away from Kaidoh’s back, and slides it against his cheek, cupping it so he can gently pull him away from his neck, facing him again. Then he places his lips against Kaidoh’s; hungry and hot for them. They’re just so thick and moist, and glowing with warmth, Momoshiro sort of feels like a fish gaping for air the way he kisses Kaidoh; like he’s his oxygen. He’s all he needs.
There’s a growing urge within Momoshiro, and it’s speeding up. Each time Kaidoh jerks at him, he can feel his penis eagerly twitch in response. It’s not going to last much longer, and Momoshiro can’t do anything but suck at Kaidoh’s lips, and hope he won’t die from not breathing enough. He squeezes Kaidoh’s penis harder, and accidentally scrapes his nails against the flesh as he pulls up.
The sudden sharp, scratching feeling against Kaidoh's penis makes him hiss out a harsh puff of air against Momoshiro's mouth and his hips snap on their own accord. His skin is so sensitive that anything Momoshiro does, even by accident, is sending sparks shooting through Kaidoh's bloodstream. He strokes Momoshiro faster, his movements becoming jerky and a lot less fluid. It's like he's losing focus on his own actions, like everything in the periphery is starting to shut down from circuit overload and he's simply zeroing in on a single goal.
Kaidoh's able to do little more than gasp against Momoshiro's lips and press his mouth hard against him like he's angry, all the while still making sounds like he's anything but. And he really isn't. He's feeling better than he has in a long time, maybe ever.
He pulls Momoshiro's bottom lip between his lips and teeth and pants hot breaths out against it before releasing and smacking his whole mouth against him, and inhaling like he's trying to suck Momoshiro inside out.
Momoshiro tries to match him, pulling away, and reeling back in, pushing his lips up against Kaidoh’s. The experience is making him dizzy and exhausted, but he can’t stop. He bites down on Kaidoh’s bottom lip, prying it open and then he shoves his tongue in there, having a fierce wet battle with Kaidoh’s tongue. It’s creating sparks and they shock him each time they move-and they’ve moving all the time.
It’s starting to get too much for Momoshiro, it’s hard to sit there with Kaidoh straddling his lap, jerking him off, and tongues swirling around each other, and then not stop functioning completely from the overload of explosive feelings. But he keeps on going, because Kaidoh still is, even if both of them are becoming sloppy, unrefined, rough like they always are.
There’s nothing graceful about what they’re doing. But god does it feel amazing.
Momoshiro can feel the palm of Kaidoh’s hand run up against him, the friction is burning, and it’s making all his blood rush faster and faster. Kaidoh’s tongue plays up against him, and they both keep pulling back a bit to take in a quick breath; Momoshiro is sure he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t breathe enough. This doesn’t stop him from sucking in another deep breath, and he holds it, while all his muscles get zapped with electricity, and Kaidoh just keeps on pulling the skin up and down, over his most sensitive parts.
It starts to go down a bit in slow motion for Momoshiro. Kaidoh moves his hand just so, moans in just the right voice, and Momoshiro bites down on Kaidoh’s tongue as he feels something pull through him. His hand tightens around Kaidoh’s penis, and his movements have become unpredictable, he’s just extremely focused on Kaidoh’s hand, on his tongue, on everything he’s doing to him. With just one more stroke, Momoshiro feels that incredible urge that’s been building up all this time burst out of him.
He lets out a very loud and deep moan against Kaidoh’s mouth with the breath he’d been holding in all this time, and he moves his hips roughly against Kaidoh’s hands. A chilling rush pumps through his entire body, making his muscles twitch as he feels his penis throb with each contraction. He stops rubbing Kaidoh, leaving his mouth alone, eyes closed and face pulled into pure bliss. The warm liquid seeps over Kaidoh’s hand, and onto his own stomach. He shudders and shivers; he’s never felt this tired and good before.
Momoshiro sighs as all his muscles relax. He’s feeling way too good to do anything but slump against Kaidoh’s hot body.
Except Kaidoh is still there, still in that moment, and Momoshiro can feel his stare burning through his closed eyelids. He jerks at Momoshiro’s still hard penis to get his attention, and Momoshiro finally opens his eyes again. Right.
The hand around Kaidoh’s penis slips off-he’s way too tired to use that arm again-and wraps his other hand around it. Momoshiro’s grip is tight and fast; he wants Kaidoh to come as well. Momoshiro is still riding the waves of his orgasm, and it’s only heightened by seeing Kaidoh’s face screw up again as he gasps for air when he starts moving up and down.
With Momoshiro’s mind more clear, and being able to focus on something else besides his throbbing penis, he looks at Kaidoh as he jerks him off faster and faster. It’s a sight to behold, Momoshiro wants to keep looking at him. But he also wants to kiss him, so he does, smacking his lips against him again, while one hand runs through Kaidoh’s hair and pulls at it, yanking it really. He loves seeing Kaidoh’s reactions. And seeing his reaction from before, Momoshiro smirks against his lips then grazes his nails against the length of Kaidoh’s penis as he pulls up again.
Kaidoh's whole body shudders and vibrates against Momoshiro when he touches him like that. Momoshiro keeps doing all these things to him that Kaidoh never knew he'd like so much. It's like Momoshiro is figuring out his secrets at the same time Kaidoh is. And now he knows just how to rile him up. Well, Momoshiro always did.
Kaidoh's hand slips down Momoshiro's shoulder onto his arm, his fingers digging deeply into his bicep, like it's all that's keeping him from tumbling over the edge. He feels Momoshiro's arm moving, stroking him faster and faster, and the touch is sending heat coursing through him each time. It just keeps building. Kaidoh feels like he's aching for release and it's close; he can feel it. Momoshiro's grip is determined. There's something about it that feels familiar, like every time Momoshiro has Kaidoh pinned to the ground during a fight and is waiting for Kaidoh's move, eager for him to react.
It's hard not to react, not when everything Momoshiro is doing seems to be pushing every one of Kaidoh's buttons. He pulls back from Momoshiro's mouth, because it's overwhelming him, because he can't breathe. His lips feel like they're tingling with anticipation. His whole body feels like it's fluttery, trembling. It's all building, and Momoshiro isn't stopping, and Momoshiro is watching, waiting, he just keeps pushing those buttons …
Momoshiro seems to feel it coming too, because he's speeding up, and he does that thing with his fingernails again, and when Kaidoh opens his eyes, he sees Momoshiro staring right at him with this weird, indiscernible look, and it's enough. No, it's too much. Kaidoh's breath speeds up into tiny, hitched gasps of air, and then stops entirely as his whole face scrunches up, lips slightly parted and wordless. His hips arch and his whole body seems to go tense and rigid for several seconds as his penis pumps against Momoshiro's fingers, emptying what feels like all of his energy into Momoshiro's hand.
Momoshiro seems to be pulling everything out of him and finally, after what feels like the longest moment in the world, Kaidoh starts breathing again, air rushing out of him in a long, aspirated sound, almost like a low whimper. And then suddenly all his muscles feel like jelly. His body feels boneless, like he's been running for days. He feels really good, and really sticky. His mind hasn't clicked back on yet. It's like he's waking up from a very good dream, and is still lingering in the hazy few minutes before his eyes open. As though he doesn't want it to end, he slumps his head forward against Momoshiro's shoulder and just sits there against him, breathing in and out.
They can only hear each other breathe at the moment, their bodies slumped against each other, and their hands covered in white stickiness. Momoshiro thinks it’s kind of gross. But the moment feels too good to move, it’s like it’ll get ruined if either of them move an inch. And it’s not like Momoshiro wants to anyway; he’s still buzzing with a fluttery and exciting feeling.
So they stay like that, their hands resting in each other’s laps, and their chests moving from their breathing.
Momoshiro takes his non-sticky hand out of Kaidoh’s hair, then slides down his back, stroking it, lightly, comforting. Grazing over his spine, and going all the way back up to his head, where he pushes his palm against it to keep Kaidoh seated against his shoulder. Then he places one small kiss against the temple of Kaidoh’s head. He doesn’t know why he does it, it’s just that everything is feeling so relaxing and good and comfortable and it’s like he’s seeing the world through rose coloured glasses. He sighs against Kaidoh’s hair, his heart beat is finally slowing down.
Momoshiro could stay in this moment forever, not moving at all.
But he wipes his sticky hand off against Kaidoh’s shorts anyway. That stuff is gross. He also pushes his own flaccid penis back inside of his boxers, it’s kind of weird having it sit out there, a sticky sweaty mess. And because he’s feeling nice, he does the same for Kaidoh’s as well.
Then wipes his hand on Kaidoh’s shorts some more.
Kaidoh squirms a bit in Momoshiro's lap. His whole crotch feels damp and his fingers are sticky and tingly and it's kind of disgusting. And it's suddenly weird that he's sitting on Momoshiro, pressed up against him, cheek pushed against his shoulder and face burrowing into his neck. They're so … close. It feels wrong now that they have no excuse. He should move.
Kaidoh takes a deep breath against Momoshiro's neck, smelling his sweaty hair and skin. He can hear Momoshiro breathe in, and out, and then in again. His fingers on Momoshiro's arm can feel the pulse running under Momoshiro's skin gradually slow. It doesn't feel wrong at all. In fact, it's making Kaidoh's chest feel like it's pinching, which should be painful, but isn't. It's confusing.
He raises his head and it brushes against Momoshiro's hair as he moves and looks down between them, like he's surveying the damage. Well. That's. Uh. Kaidoh feels embarrassed. He feels really embarrassed. He wipes his hand off on the leg of his shorts and pulls back from Momoshiro, his face a weird mix of emotions. Mostly nerves. He feels like he should say something, but his voice seems to be caught in his throat. The sounds that were coming out of his mouth earlier are sort of mortifying for him to think about now. What the hell do you even say after that?
Wanna do it again? Momoshiro is a bit too dizzy to think straight, but he does know that it felt incredible, and despite reality slowly sinking into him, making him aware of the situation, he wants to do it again.
Which really does make him this disgusting pervert that Kaidoh probably thinks he is.
Momoshiro dares to look at Kaidoh, perhaps to shove him off, or to pull him closer-he’s not yet ready to face the consequences, can’t he stay in this moment a little while longer? He sees Kaidoh looking down at the mess between them, and Momoshiro follows his gaze, until it stops at a certain fuzzy part on Kaidoh’s face.
Wait-fuzzy?
There, right above Kaidoh’s upper lip, is a patch of Momoshiro’s freshly cut hair. Somehow it had gotten stuck on Kaidoh’s face. It looks like a dumb mustache … it looks like …
“You look like fucking Hitler,” is the first thing Momoshiro says after jerking eachother off and humping together against the side of the hut. But the moment is broken, the magic time is over, and now Momoshiro just thinks Kaidoh looks hilariously funny, what with his hair stuck to his lip.
So he just laughs, a heartfelt bellowing laugh erupting from his stomach.
"What the hell?" Kaidoh growls back at him, his eyebrows knitting together in a mix of irritation and confusion and his mouth pulling into tight scowl. His arm is ready before he even needs to think about it, and he throws his fist into Momoshiro's stomach, causing Momoshiro's laugh to turn into more of a choking sound. "You asshole," he says grumpily. Stupid Momoshiro. It feels like his annoying laugh is making Kaidoh's whole face tickle. It's never done that before. It's sort of weird.
Actually …
Kaidoh swipes the back of his hand over his lip and when he pulls it away there's hair clinging to his knuckles. His whole face goes red. "Oh …" he says, but the embarrassment doesn't last for long and soon he's glaring again and doing what comes naturally. Which is to argue over something stupid.
"What the fuck? What are you laughing at me for? It's your stupid hair, idiot!" he snarls, and flings the hair at Momoshiro's face, then knocks his fist into Momoshiro's chin for good measure. But this time not hard enough to really hurt.
“Asshole!” Momoshiro squeaks out. His stomach hurts, and his jaw hurts too, so he growls at Kaidoh and finally pushes him off of him, giving one forceful shove against his naked sweaty chest. Kaidoh topples off of him, and Momoshiro quickly wipes away the hair stuck on his cheek that Kaidoh flung at him.
Having no more weight on top of him, Momoshiro is able to move freely, so he finally pulls away from the log underneath the hut. He can feel his skin sticking to it, but he can also feel something else … something’s stuck in his back. He gets up and tries to crane his neck around so he can look at his own back, but Momoshiro is an idiot, not an owl, so he sees nothing. But it stings like a bitch.
“Did you do something weird to me?” Momoshiro asks as he’s still busy trying to look at his own back. He doesn’t realize how his own words sound like, but his stomach is hurting, his back hurts, and his shorts are a mess-he doesn’t really care at the moment what he sounds like.
Momoshiro finally stops looking at his own back (he’s been spinning around in circles), stops since he’s a bit lightheaded (and that punch still hurt!), and looks down at Kaidoh sitting down in the sand. The gravity of the situation finally kicks in as his eyes flicker over Kaidoh, whose body is sweaty everywhere, red in random places, but mostly his face, and he’s snarling at Momoshiro, but that snarl doesn’t look dangerous at all. It almost looks endearing when he’s got two bitemarks on both sides of his neck, his hair is unkempt, and his lips look like they’ve been through one hell of a time. Oh, and there’s stains on his white shorts. Not that his are clean … or his stomach. Momoshiro inconspicuously tries to wipe it off with the back of his hand, looking indignantly at Kaidoh.
And there’s still a bit of hair left above his upper lip, which is kind of funny, but Momoshiro tries to keep his laughs to himself.
Kaidoh stops snarling and pulls himself to his feet, grimacing at the sticky state of his shorts. It's really embarrassing. He wants to wash his clothes, and himself. He wipes his hand over his face again, managing to swipe away the last of Momoshiro's stupid clingy bits of hair, and unconsciously rubbing at his lips as he does. They're still really tingly, and feel kind of raw from Momoshiro's relentless mouth. That's also kind of embarrassing, but kind of … nice, too.
Kaidoh has to force himself to stop touching his mouth, and drops his hand and looks at Momoshiro, who's just finished spinning around like an idiot. Kaidoh gives him a questioning look. What's he doing? What's he talking about? Did Kaidoh do something weird to him? The question makes Kaidoh shiver, but Momoshiro doesn't seem to be talking about … that. After all, he wouldn't need to ask about that. He was there when it happened just now. He knows exactly what Kaidoh did to him.
So … what does he mean? What was with the spinning?
"Let me see," Kaidoh says, and puts his hands on Momoshiro's shoulders to turn him around, trying to figure out what Momoshiro was looking for. It doesn't take long. It's kind of hard to miss. There's a splinter of wood from the pillar wedged into his back, just below his shoulder blades. It's pretty big, kind of long and narrow. Kaidoh inhales a sharp, sympathetic hiss, because that must hurt.
"It's a splinter," he explains, and his hands leave Momoshiro's shoulders to trail down toward the center of his back. "Hold still," he warns. "I'll try and pull it out."
“Wait-what?” Momoshiro squeaks out. But he can’t protest anything else because in one swift moment, Kaidoh’s pulled the thing out of his back, and Momoshiro squirms and screams out loud from the stinging pain.
“Fuck! Geez! Whatever happened to counting!?” he yells at Kaidoh. His back is throbbing in pain right now, and that sort of pain didn’t feel as good as when Kaidoh caused it, scratching him all over. Actually, now that he’s got a good look at his own chest, it’s not that he’s red from blushing … they’re red trail marks from scratching. It’s everywhere. And now that makes him blush. His arm looks very bruised too; Kaidoh’s been keeping a firm grip on it all this time.
Momoshiro can’t believe what they just did.
But it did, and it really did feel good. And by god does he want this to happen again, but this is Kaidoh. What if … What if he … Well, at least he didn’t run off like last time, so that’s an improvement. Momoshiro stares at the sand below him, seeing the rough prints their bodies left behind as they … did that, the bucket kicked over, hair scattered all over the place, and Kaidoh’s shirt and bandana lying near his feet. He bends down to grab the black tank top; it’s sweaty and crinkled. He clutches it in his hand a bit, before he turns around to Kaidoh and hands it over to him.
“Uhh, here. It’s a bit hairy though,” says Momoshiro. He spots a few locks of his own hair stuck on it. It’s a bit embarrassing, but he can’t show that to Kaidoh, not when they’re facing each other, with sticky shorts, and both know exactly what they just did. He looks at Kaidoh, eyes determined and slightly narrowed, as if he’s waiting for Kaidoh to look back at him with the same eyes, to have that same look of approval and agreement that this shall never be mentioned out loud.
But hopefully they may do it again. Momoshiro sure hopes it will. Which is also really confusing to him, but at the moment, any sort of doubt or weirdness from this situation is pushed to the back of his mind; he doesn’t want to run off again like last time.
Kaidoh grabs his shirt out of Momoshiro's hand and holds it limply in front of him. He looks up for a moment, at Momoshiro, and then back down at the sand.
"Thanks," he says quietly. What a dumb thing to say. He shakes the tank top off, sending bits of hair flying into the air, then he picks up his bandana from the ground as well. He doesn't put it back on his head though, even though his hair is a complete mess. Instead he just unties the knot and absentmindedly starts folding the cloth up again. It gives him something to do with his hands. And it keeps him from looking back up at Momoshiro's chest where he can see all the other things he's done with his hands, because that's kind of-no, not kind of, very-embarrassing. Shit. Did he really do all that?
He looks back at Momoshiro and hisses. He's definitely not about to acknowledge that. His eyes flick to Momoshiro's mouth. Or that. Then his gaze drifts a bit lower. Or … He sucks in a breath. Yeah. No, definitely not that. At least not out loud. He'd rather die.
Stop being so awkward, Momoshiro wants to tell him, but he’s feeling kind of embarrassed too. Way too exposed. He’s got nothing to cover up with; nothing but his white shorts which are stained embarrassingly. Then he spots the bucket kicked over in the sand, and hops over to it, lifting it up to …
… cover it in front of his crotch.
It’s lame. It’s stupid. Momoshiro’s cheeks flush with red.
“So …” Momoshiro says in a tiny squeaky voice. “That was a good haircut.” Oh god he wants to punch himself.
Kaidoh snorts, if only to distract from how much he's blushing, how awkward he feels. He wants to punch Momoshiro too. He wants him to shut up. Or maybe just keep talking, because at least Momoshiro is able to, which is more than Kaidoh can say for himself. All he can manage to do is make weird hissing and grumbling sounds. It's annoying. He should say something. Things shouldn't be this quiet.
"Idiot," he huffs. Surprisingly, it does make him feel a little better.
“Dumbass.” Momoshiro looks up at him with puffed out cheeks.
Kaidoh narrows his eyes at him, but he's having a hard time looking angry because Momoshiro just looks really ridiculous right now. Which makes Kaidoh feel a little relieved. It takes his mind off all the more embarrassing thoughts he could be having, because it reminds him that Momoshiro's an idiot and he's still an idiot even after all that.
"Moron," Kaidoh says, but this time in a tone almost like he's giving a compliment rather than an insult.
Momoshiro sticks out his tongue at Kaidoh. A childish act, but what else can he do? He throws the bucket down into the sand, before promptly turning around, taking steps towards the hut.
“I’m gonna get changed,” he says. “You should too.”
"Yeah," Kaidoh agrees, his voice sounding automatic and mechanical, because it's a little awkward to talk so casually about changing out of their disgusting, sticky shorts. But Kaidoh's not about to call attention to it. Hell no. He'll just act like everything's totally normal, like this is just a usual thing for them …
Kaidoh blinks.
Could this be a usual thing for them? Is that … something that could happen? The thought makes Kaidoh's skin prickle.
Momoshiro tries to look confident in his walk, and not like he’s got spaghetti noodles as his legs, and he’s wobbling, walking with them spread apart, so that his stickiness doesn’t touch his skin. He looks like a stupid spider. But he holds his head up high as he enters back inside of the hut. He can do this. They can do this.
It’ll be fine. Even if it’s forceful and still embarrassing, as long as neither of them are running away, or not talking, then it should be fine. Momoshiro watches Kaidoh enter in the hut as well. It’s an awkward five minutes of staring at the wall as they both clean into new boxers and shorts, ones that aren’t stained. Momoshiro shoves the dirty ones underneath his blanket so it can’t ever be found again, like it’s his dirty little secret.
Kaidoh is his dirty little secret.
Momoshiro looks at Kaidoh, who is tying on his bandana. It’s all so frighteningly normal. Maybe normal enough for them to do this again. Because that’s all what’s on Momoshiro’s mind right now.
It can be their dirty little secret.