Characters: Momoshiro Takeshi & Kaidoh Kaoru
Location: Kaidoh's hut
Time: September 15
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Momo gets his marker back and has a lot of fun with it.
Momoshiro knows Kaidoh will be coming back to the hut any second now. In fact, he’s waiting for the snake to come. He’s already forgotten what they got into an argument about-something about calling Kaidoh a demented special snowflake-and now he simply wants to draw again. Kaidoh hadn’t thrown his marker away after all, and he was going to give it back! At least, that’s what he said. He better do it.
Just the thought of being able to draw again makes Momoshiro brim with excitement.
Yes, yes, he won’t draw on Kaidoh’s face again, he still remembers the awful aching his body had to endure after Kaidoh was done with him, and he promised he wouldn’t anymore. Not on his face at least … Either way, he managed to convince Kaidoh it’s a good idea to draw on some shirts (because it’s something to do other than running). Not only that, he managed to convince Kaidoh to do it, draw on Momoshiro’s shirt that is. It sounds like fun, and Kaidoh needs to do more things that don’t involve training, Momoshiro thinks. He hopes that maybe he can draw something cool on Kaidoh’s shirt as well, if he lets him. Or perhaps his towel, maybe even his bandana if he’ll agree. Something like peaches, because peaches are cool.
Momoshiro takes off his shirt and keeps it clasped in his hands, so that he’s prepared. Kaidoh comes stomping back into their hut, the sound of his footsteps heavy and urgent, he looks angry and pumped.
"Yo!" Momoshiro greets him. Then he throws his light blue shirt at Kaidoh’s face, and leans against the wooden wall with his bare back. "There’s my shirt, now where’s my marker?" he asks. It is a plain shirt, hence why it’s perfect for drawing things on it.
Kaidoh doesn't want to give Momoshiro his marker. He wants to punch him in the face. That's what he was planning to do, anyway. Their conversation earlier got him all pumped up for it, and he's ready to go, but suddenly he's got a bunch of cotton flung at him instead and it's kind of throwing him off his game. He peels Momoshiro's shirt away from his face and crumples his fist around it. Momoshiro doesn't really expect him to draw some dumb picture on this, does he? Kaidoh doesn't do stuff like that, he wouldn't even know what to draw. Momoshiro can do it himself, if he wants to so badly.
Kaidoh slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out the black marker that he'd just dug out of the sand under the hut. No, he hadn't thrown it away, because even Kaidoh isn't that mean, and he isn't the sort of person to throw garbage into the ocean anyway.
"Here," he says grumpily, and tosses the marker at Momoshiro. He has this look on his face like he's somehow admitting defeat by returning it. Then he hisses, because he's still buzzing with energy and irritated this hasn't turned into a fight yet. He'll just have to wait for Momoshiro to do something annoying again so he can hit him. It shouldn't take long, since Momoshiro is always annoying.
Momoshiro catches the marker in mid-air and he immediately hugs it to his chest. "Yay, awesome! So you really didn’t throw it away." Momoshiro looks up at Kaidoh and puckers out his lips at him. "I knew you couldn’t resist me." Wink.
Right on cue, there Momoshiro goes … being his usual annoying self and pissing Kaidoh off. Kaidoh hisses, taking it as an invitation. Yeah, that's enough for him to forget about the stupid shirt. He drops his hand, crosses the room, and punches the side of Momoshiro's stupid face.
"Idiot," he growls.
The side of his cheek stings and throbs, and Momoshiro growls back an equal fierce grunt at Kaidoh. He immediately punches Kaidoh back, in his stomach, since he’s sitting down and can’t hit his face.
"Fucking asshole." Momoshiro pulls on Kaidoh’s ankle, towards himself, until Kaidoh falls back on his ass. "Now sit the fuck down."
"Don't tell me what to do, dumbass," Kaidoh replies with a pointed glare. Although, he's kind of already down anyway, and wincing a bit in pain, so he decides to just stay there, and pulls his legs up to his chest until he's sitting, scowling in front of Momoshiro.
"Then don’t punch me, asshole. That’s a very rude way to greet someone, you know." Momoshiro rolls his eyes. He tugs at his shirt still in Kaidoh’s hand.
"Now … as we were going to do before you ruined my perfectly handsome face." Momoshiro rubs his cheek, then he throws the marker at Kaidoh’s legs. "Draw something on it. No insults allowed! And no like … scribbles either. It has to look like something."
Kaidoh huffs. "Fine, if it will shut you up." He lays Momoshiro's shirt on the floor of the hut, so it's spread flat, and studies it for a moment before reaching for the marker and pulling the cap off. He's got a serious look on his face, because that's how he approaches everything he does; seriously.
When he looks up, Momoshiro's just sitting there watching him, like he's waiting for Kaidoh's move. It's obnoxious, so Kaidoh narrows his eyes at him and says, "Moron, stop looking at me. I can't concentrate. Go … think about food, or whatever it is you like to do."
Momoshiro simply casts his eyes down onto his shirt. "Ok, I’ll look at what you’re drawing then, and simultaneously think about food, how’s that?"
Kaidoh grimaces. "You're an idiot."
"I’m not looking at yoouuu," sings Momoshiro.
"Shut up," Kaidoh growls. He reaches out his arm and punches Momoshiro in the knee, not quite as hard as he had before, just enough to make him feel it. If Momoshiro keeps this up, Kaidoh's just going to end up scrawling ugly, jagged marks all over his shirt. Well, no, he probably won't. Because Kaidoh doesn't act like an asshole with a marker the way Momoshiro does-Yeah, he's not going to forget how Momoshiro thought it would be funny to use his face as a canvas.
"Fine, fine." Momoshiro rubs his knee-then his cheek-and he scoots a bit closer to his shirt, eagerly waiting for Kaidoh to begin. What’s he going to draw? He hopes it isn’t spaghetti meatballs.
Then his stomach makes a tiny disagreeable sound; he hasn’t eaten anything in over three hours. Okay, well, he’ll probably be happy if it’s food either way. He wants to tell Kaidoh to draw him burgers, but then remembers Kaidoh told him to shut up, so he bites his lip and waits for Kaidoh to actually draw something. Which is actually sort of amazing, since Momoshiro asked him to do it in the first place, and he’s actually ... doing it. It’s kind of cool.
Kaidoh holds the marker upright over the shirt like it's a calligraphy brush, making sure it's centered and the fabric is flat. Even if this is for Momoshiro, Kaidoh's going to take his time and not make it look stupid. Or maybe more like, because it's for Momoshiro, Kaidoh's not going to make it look stupid. Because he wants Momoshiro to like it.
It being … whatever it is he's going to draw. Definitely not a fish, or a cat, or a snake. Kaidoh's not very good at drawing animals ... They always end up with weird, creepy-looking eyes. He glances up at Momoshiro's wall and sees the stupid peach Momoshiro drew just above his pillow. At least, that's what Kaidoh thinks it was supposed to be. Maybe. Although it would be weird if Momoshiro drew a heart in their hut. So, yeah, it must be a peach. Kaidoh never asked him about it because he was too busy being outraged about the graffiti Momoshiro had scrawled all over his own wall. If it's a peach, it's not really that great of one. Kaidoh could probably do a better rendering of it. Well, of course he can, because Momoshiro isn't better than him at anything.
He steadies the marker and begins to draw, long, sweeping movements like he really is doing calligraphy. Only he's … drawing a peach instead of some complicated kanji character. Kaidoh can feel Momoshiro's eyes watching, waiting, anticipating. He tilts his head to the side, and realizes with annoyance that, upside-down, the peach probably kind of resembles a heart, much like Momoshiro's does. Maybe he was too quick to judge Momoshiro's wall drawing-it really is hard to make the stupid fruit look … not heart-like. How idiotic. Stupid peaches.
Kaidoh's cheeks heat up and he cringes a bit, and then draws a leaf at the base, and then another, and then a circle around the leaves like the peach is sitting on a plate or something. Which should clarify what it's supposed to be. And, well, Momoshiro can't be that big of an idiot that he'll miss what Kaidoh was going for, hopefully. It's not like Kaidoh would ever draw a heart on anything in the first place. That would be dumb.
Momoshiro’s eyes light up like christmas lights as he sees the finished drawing.
Satisfied with his drawing-well, as satisfied as he's going to get-Kaidoh returns the cap to the marker and looks up at Momoshiro with a sort of indignant expression, like drawing something for Momoshiro is some kind of great hardship he's been forced to endure. And obviously not something he'd do willingly. Although in actuality, it really didn't take much convincing. It's not his fault Momoshiro is hard to resist.
Momoshiro is ignoring the marker still clutched in Kaidoh’s hands (he was going to draw something too), and instead is looking at the very weird peach Kaidoh drew. It doesn’t look much different than the one he made on the wall (his is better of course), but there’s this weird circle around it. Momoshiro doesn’t know what it is; just a logo? Like Momoshiro is Mr. Peachman?
Actually, that’s really sort of catchy …
It’s making Momoshiro feel bubbly and happy; he can’t believe Kaidoh actually drew him a peach (or listened to him at all). It looks sort of like an upside down heart, but that’s what all peaches end up looking like. He can’t really blame him for that. At least it doesn’t look like a butt. Heh. He scoots over until he’s right next to Kaidoh, his shoulder bumping into Kaidoh’s, and he’s still looking at the weird squiggly lines drawn on his shirt. It needs some text though … hmm.
Momoshiro pokes Kaidoh’s side with his finger. "Write down Peachman on it. In English. Wait, no, make it Peachman-chan. Yes. Write it down, right here." Momoshiro puts his finger smack down in the middle, right inside the circle, but below the leaf of the peach. "There. Write it in your girly handwriting, hah."
Kaidoh hisses and elbows Momoshiro in the side. "Just because my handwriting is actually legible doesn't make it girly, dumbass." But he uncaps the marker anyway and starts to write across the t-shirt.
P-e-a-c-h-m-a-n. He kind of miscalculated how much space he needed and by the time he gets to '-chan', he has to write those letters half the size as the rest, but at least it's all spelled correctly and the lettering looks nice and neat. Not girly, because nothing Kaidoh does is girly! It's just … aesthetically balanced. Or something.
"There," he says grouchily. "Anything else?" He gives Momoshiro a flat look, like he's being a demanding child, even though inside Kaidoh is feeling kind of happy to be doing something for Momoshiro, and Momoshiro looks kind of happy too, which makes Kaidoh feel even better.
Momoshiro props an elbow up on Kaidoh’s shoulder, and he leans a bit more forwards to inspect the shirt and read the lettering. Despite Kaidoh’s terrible writing that tapers at the end and takes up a lot of room, it still has some white space left. "Hmm … it is missing something, isn’t it?" He turns his head to Kaidoh with a grin. "Wasn’t I getting your autograph?"
Kaidoh gives him a skeptical look. "On your shirt ...?"
"... You want to draw it on my face instead?" Momoshiro gives him a deadpan look in return.
Kaidoh's eyes narrow. "No," he retorts petulantly. "Like I want to touch your stupid face..." He looks at the shirt. Why does it need his own name on it? It's not like a work of art he's signing his identity to. It's not his shirt. Momoshiro is stupid.
But, fine. "Whatever," Kaidoh says, huffing. He holds the marker between his thumb and forefinger and signs his name into the remaining white space just under the other text. Luckily his signature is kind of loopy and hard to recognize-it would be stupid to have his name blatantly visible in the middle of Momoshiro's chest. To anyone else it could just be some weird decorative logo.
"That’s your signature? That looks … kind of like a loopy rose. You’re weird." Momoshiro prods his elbow into the side of Kaidoh’s neck. "But thanks, heh. Now my shirt’s interesting at least. It’s cool."
Momoshiro finally leaves Kaidoh alone, who is already looking irritated, and he grabs his shirt from the floor and quickly slips it back onto his torso. He stands up and smoothes his palm across the drawings down towards the hem. He looks down at it with a smile plastered on his face, his eyes twinkling. He’s Peachman-chan now! Though wasn’t he Burgerman a few weeks ago? Momoshiro turns to Kaidoh and he nudges him with his foot.
"How about your shirt?" Well, Kaidoh’s stupid tank top is black ... but he can … manage. "Or maybe your shorts, those are white." Momoshiro grins mischievously. "Do you even own any white tank tops?"
Kaidoh gives Momoshiro a horrified look, both at the suggestion that he draw on Kaidoh's shorts-no way!!-and at the idea that Kaidoh would own a white tank top. He likes black. It's what he wears. There's no reason to change that.
He looks over at the corner of his side of the room near his bed where a pile of neatly folded laundry sits. There are a couple of other dark colored tank tops there that Kaidoh got from the caves a while back. Not all of them are black, but it's not like Kaidoh can be picky out on a deserted island. He points over at them.
"If you really have to draw on something, you can choose one of those," he says, as though Momoshiro's marker madness is some kind of uncontrollable compulsion. "I think the green one might be light enough for ink to show up." Why is he telling Momoshiro that? Why is Kaidoh encouraging any of this? Indulging Momoshiro can lead nowhere good. But at least if Kaidoh distracts Momoshiro with something else, he won't try to draw all over Kaidoh's shorts-which he's kind of busy wearing. Or his face again. Kaidoh would punch him, and take his marker back, and this time it wouldn't just end up buried out in the sand.
"Okay!" Momoshiro chirps out.
Like a giddy little kid, Momoshiro rubs his hand on top of Kaidoh’s head as he passes him by-messing up his bandana-and skips towards their little laundry corner. He crouches down to scan the neatly folded clothes. Kaidoh is the one to do ‘laundry’ around here, it was a deal they made back when Momoshiro still lived in his shack, and Kaidoh lived there too. But now his original shack is gone (they built a new one for Echizen and Hazue together so that awful thing that happened during that storm won’t ever happen again), and he’s living with Kaidoh instead of the other way around. Technically, it should be Momoshiro who’d have to clean their dirty clothes, but Kaidoh seems to not mind at all … in fact, Momoshiro thinks he sort of likes it.
Which is a very weird thought to have, because Kaidoh also washes his underwear.
Thank god Momoshiro decided to wash these himself after that one time … and that time too … and that other time … Momoshiro feels his cheeks heat up with blood as he’s thrown out of his giddy mood and instead remembers the sensations from Kaidoh’s … He really shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not with Kaidoh sitting a little ways ahead of him, so easily reached, so easily thrown down onto his own bed.
Stop with those thoughts, Momoshiro-pick a damn shirt.
The green one is stuffed underneath a sea of black tops, and he pulls it out from underneath the pile, messing everything else up (not like he cares), and he walks back over to Kaidoh. He sits down next to him again and throws the green (it’s camo) shirt onto the floor, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles like Kaidoh did.
"This one?" Momoshiro asks for confirmation. He sloppily drops his hand into Kaidoh’s, and pries out the marker from his fingers so he can get it instead. He takes off the cap and is ready to put it on top of the green camo.
"Uh. Yeah," Kaidoh says, nodding. "Just don't draw anything stupid," he adds, and narrows his eyes like a warning. "Or I won't wear it."
Momoshiro puts the tip of the felt against the shirt, somewhere at the top. "Define stupid," he says.
"Well," Kaidoh starts irritably. "No dead fish, for one thing."
"It’s okay if it’s alive then?" Momoshiro snickers.
"Asshole. No fish period."
"Not even when it’s a cat eating one?"
Kaidoh pauses to contemplate this, and his expression softens a little, because the image in his head is kind of cute … But he doesn't want to give Momoshiro any flexibility or he'll end up drawing something horrifying, Kaidoh is sure of it.
"No," he says finally, voice firm.
"Fine," Momoshiro grumbles back at him. He then starts to drag the marker down towards the end of the shirt, making a long arch. Then he draws another arch inside of it .. and another .. until there’s a big arch stretched across the shirt with four lines inside. It’s supposed to be a rainbow, but it looks like some tentacle swamp monster because of the camo beneath it. It’s not like he’s got coloured markers after all (he’d love some though!), so it’ll just be a black rainbow. He draws some happy little poofy clouds at the top, and he draws a unicorn as well.
At least, that’s what he intended to draw, but it sort of look like an ugly square with triangles for legs, and a horn on its head. He got that part right at least. Momoshiro thinks he’s making a Picasso.
"There, no stupid fish," Momoshiro says as he draws something at the bottom as well. They’re ocean waves. Which end up looking like curly hair. So it’s a rainbow casting over the ocean with a unicorn up in the air.
Oh wait, it needs wings.
Momoshiro draws some stupid butterfly wings on it. They look like human ears. Whatever.
Then he writes the first kanji of Kaidoh’s name underneath the rainbow. Since it is an ocean. He scribbles his own name (Momo-chan!) next to the unicorn in very small chicken scratch handwriting.
"Tada, it’s a masterpiece! It’ll be worth millions later on!" Momoshiro nods his head at it and places the cap back onto the marker. He looks at Kaidoh to see his reaction.
Kaidoh looks back at him with a confused expression. "Um," he says, brow furrowing. "What's it supposed to be?" It looks like some kind of mutant rhinoceros monster sliding down a bridge over a pile of spaghetti. And Momoshiro is weird, but Kaidoh didn't think he was that weird.
Well, Momoshiro wrote his name next to the rhinoceros, so maybe it's supposed to be him instead? Is Momoshiro really that clueless about how to draw a person? He did all right drawing himself on Kaidoh's punching bag though … Yeah, Kaidoh doesn't really know what to make of it, but Momoshiro certainly seems pleased with himself. And like he said, at least he didn't draw a fish.
"It’s a rainbow!" Momoshiro happily points the marker at his awesome rainbow. Then he moves to the unicorn. "And that’s a flying unicorn, and those are clouds ... and that’s the ocean, and that’s well, your name. Duh. Well you can’t really see it with this terrible camouflage pattern, but whatever, it’s still a masterpiece."
Momoshiro pokes the marker into Kaidoh’s cheek. "Got something else you want on it?"
Kaidoh hisses. "No, that's …" He tries to think of a good word to describe what Momoshiro's drawing is. "Fine."
"Well. Then." Momoshiro pops the cap off one more time, and he quickly draws a circle, draws some triangles on the outside, two dots on the inside, and a smile. There. It’s one of his special cats. He drew it small enough to fit in the lightest part of the camo pattern, so that it was actually visible.
"Okay, I’m done." Momoshiro looks at Kaidoh’s shorts. "Next."
"What do you mean, next?" Kaidoh says suspiciously. "There is no 'next'. You drew on my shirt. You're done."
Momoshiro points the marker at Kaidoh’s crotch.
Kaidoh swats the marker away and punches Momoshiro in the arm.
"Hey!" Momoshiro is torn between wanting to reach for the marker lying on the wooden floor, or punch Kaidoh in the face. So he lightly punches Kaidoh’s cheek, and quickly scrambles across the floor to grab the marker and holds it to his chest. His precious marker.
"Asshole," he fires at Kaidoh. "What if it broke? Then I can’t draw anymore."
"I'm sure you'd get over it," Kaidoh replies flatly.
"I’d just find something else to draw with." He turns to Kaidoh with a huge evil grin on his face. "Like mud."
Kaidoh just glares at him. "Fine, I won't break your damn marker."
"Now that’s a good boy." Momoshiro skips back over to Kaidoh, and this time really ruffles up the bandana on his head. "Oh, I can draw on your bandana," he says as he slips it off Kaidoh’s head.
"No you can't!" Kaidoh growls, snatching the bandana back and clutching it tightly in his fist.
Momoshiro puckers out his lip and pouts at Kaidoh, his eyebrows lowering down to complete the sad look on his face. "But … but." That’s one of the things they mentioned he could draw on, so why not?
Kaidoh scowls, refusing to be swayed by Momoshiro's sad puppy act. "I like it the way it is," he says.
"How about a paw print? Like I made on the pillow?" Momoshiro pulls his eyebrows down even more. His lips start to quiver as well.
"How about you stop trying to draw on everything?" Kaidoh retorts.
"But it’s fun …" Momoshiro looks crestfallen. He thought Kaidoh would like it too. It’s something to do other than running. "And look, I’m wearing the shirt too." He strokes his hands from his chest down to his stomach, showcasing the weirdly shaped peach on it. Now he’s just a sad peach.
Kaidoh heaves out a heavy sigh. "Idiot," he says finally, sighs again, and then holds the bandana out to Momoshiro. "You can draw something small. And not right in the middle either. Near the edge or something."
There’s sparkles of tears in Momoshiro’s eyes as he greedily snatches the bandana out of Kaidoh’s hand. He pushes it closer to his own face, and keeps it steady against his hand, the end falling against his palm. He takes out the marker and doodles something small on it, right on the hem. It looks like a small S and a heart, but it’s supposed to be a snake and a peach … well, Kaidoh will get it anyway. With a happy big smile on his face, he thrusts the bandana back into Kaidoh’s hand. His eyes are looking at him as if he’s waiting for approval-a compliment, anything.
So long as it isn’t a punch in the face, then it’s good.
Kaidoh takes the bandana and examines it, slightly wary, like Momoshiro might have completely defaced it. But it's hard for Kaidoh to even spot where Momoshiro has drawn on it, because it really is small and right at the corner of the material, just like Kaidoh requested, and easy to miss if you're not looking for it. But Kaidoh is, although it takes him a second to figure out what he's looking at.
When he does, he stops scowling. His face relaxes a bit, almost content, and he looks back at Momoshiro, who looks so happy and hopeful it makes Kaidoh's chest feel tight.
"Cool," he says simply. By which he means, yeah, he might have liked his bandana the way it was, but this is good too.
"Of course it is!" Momoshiro chuckles happily, and places the cap back on the marker. He then extends his arms down towards Kaidoh, his hand closed in a fist. He’s looking at him with sparkling eyes, waiting, happily. Like a dog.
Kaidoh's lips curl up, just barely, and he sets the bandana down in his lap before raising his own fist to bump against Momoshiro's.
A pleasant electric shock sparks Momoshiro’s knuckles, right where Kaidoh’s skin touches his. He’s smiling, and he feels pretty good right now, with his heart giving him excited thumps against his chest. Kaidoh has a shirt with his art on it, as well as a small little snake and peach on his bandana. It feels good knowing that he’ll wear it (hopefully), and his own shirt suddenly feels a lot better against his own skin as well. Like it’s newer, better, improved.
He’s way too easy to please … He hopes Kaidoh is pleased as well.
Momoshiro drops his arm to his side-smile still plastered indefinitely on his face-and then he remembers something. "So hey, what about mine? You have it still, right? Draw something nice on it for me. Also small! Like a secret."
Kaidoh shrugs. "Yeah, okay," he says, not even bothering to argue this time. Fair is fair, after all. He still has Momoshiro's bandana in his pocket, folded up with the others, and he pulls it out now and lays it over his knee so that the creases are smoothed out of it.
Then he holds out his palm, waiting for the marker. "Well, it's not going to draw itself …" he grumbles.
Momoshiro raises his eyebrow at the red bandana. "Do you … keep that in your pocket all the time?" He crouches down next to Kaidoh, staring at the meatballs, and offers the marker. He remembers the day he lost it and Kaidoh kept it for him … oh, he remembers that day very well.
"Shut up," Kaidoh replies, giving Momoshiro a petulant glare as he snatches the marker back from him.
Momoshiro smiles knowingly as he puts an arm around Kaidoh’s shoulder and he pulls him up close. "You could have just given it back, you know," he says with a slight chuckle.
"Dumbass."
Momoshiro laughs and runs his fingers through Kaidoh’s freshly cut hair to mess it all up.
Kaidoh whips his head around to scowl at Momoshiro. "Stop that."
It’s not like Momoshiro can help it; Kaidoh is going along with whatever Momoshiro is suggesting, and that makes him excited. "Just draw me something." He slips his fingers out of Kaidoh’s hair and rests his hand on Kaidoh’s shoulder-hey, he’s not going to let go if he can. This is comfy and fun. He’s having fun with Kaidoh for once that doesn’t involve getting punched in the face. Or anywhere else. Not that it hasn’t already happened today.
Kaidoh sucks in a breath and puts on his serious face again, trying not to be distracted by how close Momoshiro is, but it's kind of a challenge. Instead he focuses his attention on the bandana in front of him. He chooses a small, unoccupied corner of the cloth, one where he hadn't sewn any comets, and uncaps the marker. Then he draws a very tiny hamburger onto the material.
He stops and looks at it, but it seems kind of incomplete just sitting there alone like that, so he draws a second one, next to the first. They're both very round, more like weird, meat-filled globes instead of proper hamburgers. That gives Kaidoh an idea and he snorts before writing two angular letters on either side of the first hamburger, until it spells out MOMO, the burgers in place of the O's.
"There, now no one can mistake it for mine anymore," he says, slight amusement in his voice as he passes the bandana to Momoshiro.
"Ahaha, what’s that," Momoshiro laughs as he grabs hold of the bandana. He stretches it out between both hands-one arm still around Kaidoh’s neck-and he looks at the burger MOMO. "Ahaha, what the hell, is that a burger?" It doesn’t look like one at all, but it’s so funny that it’s making Momoshiro laugh until his cheeks start hurting. "It looks like a pokeball! Haha!" Momoshiro clenches the bandana in his hand then shoves it into his pocket. "So which one am I, Burgerman or Peachman-chan?" he asks while laughing in between breaths.
The small drawing looks funny though, kind of clever, he’s glad he got Kaidoh to do it. He really likes it.
Kaidoh just gives him a flat look. "You can be whatever the hell you want to be, I guess." Both sound kind of dumb, Kaidoh thinks. But then, so is Momoshiro, so it fits.
"I wanna be Momo-chan," says Momoshiro with a giggle. "To you, I mean."
Kaidoh shoves Momoshiro in the side. "You're Momoshiro to me."
"Momo," he squeals out as he wraps his arms tightly around Kaidoh’s neck, "chaaaan," he finishes with his mouth pressed against Kaidoh’s temple. Then he pushes him down, pressing against his side until Kaidoh’s down on the floor (half on Momoshiro’s own bed), and Momoshiro is lying on top of him. He leans onto his hands which are digging into his blanket, and he looks down at Kaidoh with a huge smile stretched across his face. One leg between Kaidoh’s and the other on the outside of his hip. There’s this bubbly feeling just sizzling around in his stomach; he’s feeling so cheerful at the moment.
From the moment Momoshiro found out Kaidoh hadn’t thrown his marker away, he knew it was a good idea to get Kaidoh to draw things with him. They should be doing things together like this all the time.
Kaidoh frowns up at him, eyes narrowed and his face completely pink, the way it gets when Momoshiro catches him off-guard, or does just about anything.
"Dumbass," he says instead.
Momoshiro simply continues to smile at him. "Didn’t catch that," he says, leaning closer.
"I said-" Kaidoh starts, voice charging in with full force. His mouth tugs open and he's about to repeat himself, call Momoshiro the dumbass that he is, when he stops and just looks at him. Because Momoshiro hasn't stopped smiling, and it's really distracting, especially when he's so close that it's hard for Kaidoh to look anywhere else. Kaidoh doesn't want to look anywhere else.
He huffs and squirms a bit, his cheeks feeling even warmer. "I said …" he tries again, his voice having lost all of the irritation and edge. "… you're a dumbass." Kaidoh pushes his hand against Momoshiro's shoulder, feeling Momoshiro warm and solid above him. He starts to shove, then stops. His mouth twitches like it's trying to betray him, and then it does.
Kaidoh's breath spills out of him in a low hiss and somewhere at the end of it, he mumbles, "Momo-chan," finally yielding to Momoshiro's stupidly convincing smile. Then his gaze slides away from Momoshiro's face, his eyes guilty like he's let slip a secret. It's Momoshiro's fault.
Momoshiro’s smile transforms into a very wide toothy grin, his eyes enlarging with his eyebrows raising in turn. It’s like as if there’s confetti being thrown around in his stomach, it’s having a party, with drums beating so hard he can feel the bass pulse throughout his entire body. It’s sort of making him blind to anything else but that feeling, and seeing Kaidoh’s body right underneath him, squirming in embarrassment, his cheeks a nice pinkish red.
"Hehehe," Momoshiro breathes out in a very happy voice. It sounds very high pitched as well, as if he’s giggling. Well, he probably is.
He lifts one hand from the blanket, which he shoves underneath the base of Kaidoh’s neck, his fingers curling around the soft skin and pressing his palm against it. Momoshiro can feel Kaidoh’s heartbeat thump against him, it’s exciting. He lowers his body down-Kaidoh’s hand not protesting much-until his chest is resting against Kaidoh, while he simultaneously lifts Kaidoh’s head closer until he can bury his face next to Kaidoh’s, giggling like a stupid schoolgirl that just won’t stop. Kaidoh’s hair gets stuck on his lips as he laughs, but he doesn’t really care. It feels nice.
Indeed, he’s Momo-chan, and that’s something Kaidoh should call him all the time if it makes him as giddy as this, like he’s on some sort of insane sugar rush, like an eight year old kid who had too much ice cream.
There might have been a girly ’kya!’ in there as Momoshiro crushes Kaidoh against him in a very weird hug, then nuzzles his face against his hair.
"Say it again," Momoshiro says with a smile against the side of Kaidoh’s head. His cheeks are positively glowing.
Kaidoh can't really make himself do anything but indulge Momoshiro right now, because he's caught up in it too, like Momoshiro has infected him with some kind of happy virus, and it all feels so good-Momoshiro's laugh, his body against him, the sound of his breath, the beat of his pulse. Kaidoh doesn't want it to go away, he doesn't want Momoshiro to go away. He'll have plenty of time to glare and call Momoshiro names later, to punch him, to ignore and deny all of this, but for now Kaidoh just wants to enjoy it. He's wrapped up in the feeling just as tightly as Momoshiro is wrapped around him.
"Momo-chan," he echoes softly, feeling stupid and exposed and embarrassed … and at the same time strangely exhilarated. It still sounds foreign to him, like he's calling to some stranger, and Momoshiro's reactions are foreign and new too, but the way Momoshiro feels against him is familiar.
So long as Momoshiro stays close like this, stays smiling that stupid, happy grin, Kaidoh will probably do whatever he asks. He doesn't have it in him anymore to protest, or even question it. And surely that's Momoshiro's fault, too, but maybe it's Kaidoh's as well, because, at least for right now, he doesn't want to do anything but make Momoshiro smile like that all the time. It kind of amazes him that Momoshiro is doing it because of him.
The smile on Momoshiro’s face has now become something permanently etched into it; it’s not going away. Far from it, it’s growing bigger-as far as his lips can spread, and it’s starting to hurt too. A good kind of hurt though, nothing really feels bad, everything feels like sparkling confetti. Isn’t that what they call glitter though?
Momoshiro slightly turns his face, so that his lips brush over Kaidoh’s ear. He wants to tell him something, form words with his mouth, but it’s kind of hard when he can’t stop smiling, and his brain isn’t letting him form any coherent thoughts. Say it again, he wants to tell him, say it all the time. But maybe his smile is saying enough, after all, Kaidoh did call him Momo-chan twice. It’s like an early christmas present. It’s the best present, one that Momoshiro can’t help but want to unwrap and play with, which is why he pushes Kaidoh closer to him, his hand still on the back of his neck. The other one now moves in between their chests so he can pry out Kaidoh’s hand, which had been awkwardly stuck in between them, and he slowly pulls it out, until it’s above Kaidoh’s head, and Momoshiro clenches all his fingers around Kaidoh’s. The rough skin texture of Kaidoh’s fingers feels nice against his own, they feel warm and comforting. Everything feels warm and comforting, and Momoshiro is almost convinced Kaidoh’s ear is radiating heat from being so red.
It’s starting to feel heavy to keep that wide grin on his face, but Momoshiro can’t control his happiness, he can’t stop smiling. It’s all Kaidoh’s fault, he’s never done this before, never went along with him this far, never indulged him this much, and Momoshiro is loving every second of it. This is definitely something he could get used to (but his jaw might ache), something which he wants to happen pretty much all the time.
Yeah, fighting with Kaidoh had always felt good to Momoshiro. It relieved some stress, and it was just how they worked. But it’s never been like this, never felt this good, where there are no insults, no punches, and it’s just a happy Momoshiro with a … actually, he hasn’t seen Kaidoh’s face yet.
Slowly, Momoshiro moves away from Kaidoh’s ear, his lips brushing against the tip of the cartilage, until he centers his face right above Kaidoh’s. It’s almost impossible to smile even more, but his lips are curling further, and his cheeks are feeling hot and strained, once he sees Kaidoh’s face. It is flushed with red, tainting not only his cheeks, but his forehead, ears, and neck as well, like it’s a happy little rash. Happy, because Kaidoh’s big lips are pulled into something that might have looked like a snarl to other people, but Momoshiro has pretty much memorized all the different positions Kaidoh can snarl in, that he knows it’s not like that at all. Kaidoh’s smiling too. A little. A little but enough, enough to make Momoshiro feel like he’s the happiest man on earth, and it shows on his face as well. He laughs a bit, his eyes smiling with him, his fingers tightening around Kaidoh’s hand, until he can finally relax his mouth enough to say something.
"Yeah …" he says, feeling completely out of breath like he’s been running one of Kaidoh’s training courses forever. Momoshiro looks into Kaidoh’s eyes. "And you’re my Kaoru-chan," he finishes.
And before Kaidoh can protest the silly nickname, to even utter out a word to break this happy bubble that they’re in, Momoshiro covers his mouth with his own to silence him. It’s unlike the other times because this time it’s not rough, it’s not urgent, but it’s familiar and soft.
It’s kind of sweet.
Kaidoh isn't surprised this time. Although in truth, every time they do this, it surprises him, catches him off-guard, because Kaidoh knows he's here, in the moment, and at the same time he feels as though he's watching himself from far away, unable to process that it's all happening, that he's still the same person he was just moments before, that Momoshiro is too, and that he somehow wants to do this with Kaidoh anyway. But it feels more and more natural the more it happens, like this is the way they're supposed to fit together. And even if it isn't, even if it's just some strange fluke, even if they've both been infected with some weird happy virus that clouds their judgment, Kaidoh is content to live in the delusion for as long as he can make it last.
It's strange to think that, for all his complaining, his grumbling and yelling, nothing feels more right than Momoshiro's mouth against his own. Maybe he really isn't the same person he was before, because he feels like he's unraveling, like Momoshiro's pulling at him, piece by piece, and Kaidoh can't do anything but encourage him to keep going.
His fingers squeeze against Momoshiro's hand, the touch nice, warm, solid, and Kaidoh wishes the instinct to grab Momoshiro's hand didn't always feel so mortifying the rest of the time they're together, because he likes the feeling. He really likes it. He likes touching Momoshiro, whether it be punches, or shirt grabs, or even this. Especially this. He wants to do it more.
He moves his other hand up against Momoshiro's cheek, which is so warm that Kaidoh feels like his palm is being heated by an invisible flame. Kaidoh doesn't know why he does it, but his thumb lightly strokes the side of Momoshiro's face, almost tenderly, feeling the skin seem to light up with heat each place he touches. Then his hand slides back, through Momoshiro's soft black hair, until it's behind his head, the pads of Kaidoh's fingers pushing into Momoshiro's scalp to keep him close as Kaidoh moves his own lips against Momoshiro's mouth.
A shuddered breath, one Kaidoh had been holding, escapes out through his nose, harsh against Momoshiro's face. But it's the only harsh thing about this; the movement of their mouths isn't harsh at all.
It feels like a rare moment. Kaidoh can feel his skin buzzing with energy, eager and alert, and it's echoed in Momoshiro's touches, but neither one of them is angry, and there's nothing rushed about what they're doing. And that's a bit terrifying, because then there's nothing for Kaidoh to hide behind, it's like Momoshiro has peeled away all his rough edges and left him exposed, as just Kaoru-chan, with the simple fact that this is not a fight at all, that they aren't acting out of anger or competitive instincts. That there aren't any excuses. That he just likes it.
There is definitely something clouding Momoshiro’s judgement, because if he weren’t in this dazed happy state, feeling bubbly and and content, then maybe he’d question what the hell he was doing. It’s easy to blame their previous encounters on the fact that Momoshiro lost control of his hormones, and Kaidoh was just someone who happened to be there at the right time. That’s how he could deal with it, and not think hard about it-it was all hormones anyway. Horny ones, ones that wanted to touch Kaidoh everywhere and find release.
But with the way Kaidoh is tenderly moving his lips against his own, the way his fingers touch the back of his head lightly, it doesn’t feel like their previous encounters at all. It’s different. It’s not rushed, it isn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing, they both saw it coming, didn’t they? But Momoshiro is still high on that rush, and it’s simply getting more intense the more he touches Kaidoh, it’s taking him over completely. He can’t think straight, which is why he can’t see how strange this all is, because it doesn’t feel strange. Moving his lips against Kaidoh’s feels normal, it feels good, it’s something he wants to do more often. Even Kaidoh’s touches feel like they belong there, like he’s been waiting all this time for it to happen.
And it really is strange, but Momoshiro is too engrossed in what he’s doing, what he’s feeling, and how Kaidoh is reacting to whatever he’s doing as well, to realize this. To understand the significance of it.
Momoshiro plucks his lips away from Kaidoh’s, not moving very far, but enough so he can lick his own lips to moisten them, and then he presses them against those big lips again. It’s a sensation he really can’t get enough of, ever. And this time it’s slow, it’s so deliberate and lethargic, it’s making his toes curl up, and he huddles closer to Kaidoh’s body, wanting to have every part of their skin touching. Just like Kaidoh, he’s letting out harsh breaths through his nose, simply because his mouth is closed, and despite it being so slow, it’s still making all his insides run wild, and he needs oxygen to keep him going.
Or maybe he simply needs Kaidoh to keep going. It’s not like he feels like pulling away is an option right now. They can just stay like this, lips moving, hands stroking, and bodies trembling.
At least they’re not doing it in the damn sand anymore. Momoshiro is grateful for the fact that they’re half lying on his own bed. Which really only consists out of a bunch of blankets, but it works, it’s soft, and pressing Kaidoh into it doesn’t disturb their pace. There’s no sand between his fingers annoying him this time, only Kaidoh’s fingers are there. And those always feel great, exciting and new, Momoshiro can’t help but keep squeezing his hand, then relaxing it and brush the tips of his fingers against Kaidoh’s, pressing them up against each other.
Momoshiro sucks lightly on Kaidoh’s lips; they’re so soft and warm, he doesn’t ever really want to part with them. Wants to feel them all the time. If only he could, which is why he’s enjoying this as much as he can. Because it’s the first time Kaidoh’s so lenient with him, and he seems to be enjoying this too, responding to his touch, from his lips, to his hands, and he’s pulling Momoshiro closer. And he obliges without a protest, of course he’ll get closer, of course he’ll continue. Kaidoh kisses him back, and it’s making Momoshiro feel lightheaded. Lightheaded, but good.
But Momoshiro does finally pull his lips away from Kaidoh completely this time. He takes a second to look at Kaidoh, to take in the way he looks like. How his expression seems so softened and content, with his eyes glazed over; Momoshiro has never seen Kaidoh this way, not even when he’s petting cats and thinks no one is watching him. It’s a nice and rare expression, it’s much better than the grouchy look Kaidoh wears all the time, and Momoshiro wishes he looks like this instead of grumpy Kaidoh. He brings his hand, which was kneading into Kaidoh’s neck, up to his very warm cheek-just like Kaidoh did-and he brushes his thumb over it, caressing it. It’s very warm to the touch, since Kaidoh’s thoroughly flushed right now.
This feels nice.
Momoshiro leans forward once more and gently knocks his forehead against Kaidoh’s, their noses slightly bumping into each other. He smiles, then chuckles lightly, letting his fingers stroke Kaidoh’s cheek. It’s making his fingers tingle with exciting energy.
It feels really nice. Kaidoh is letting him do whatever he pleases, and it feels great. He chuckles again, his breath hitting Kaidoh’s face.
Momoshiro's laughter sends goosebumps down the back of Kaidoh's neck, prickling up his skin and making it tingle. It's a sound Kaidoh decides he kind of likes, and for once Momoshiro isn't laughing at something dumb Kaidoh's done, he's just happy. He's just happy with Kaidoh. Kaidoh really can't stop running that thought through his mind. It's like fuel, pulsing through his chest, energizing him, making his heart race with excitement. It's powering him on, powering him up. It feels boundless. He thinks he probably would be able to run a marathon off of it, no water even needed.
Air, though ... maybe, and Kaidoh sucks in a shallow breath and looks back at Momoshiro, whose eyes are just as light and open as Kaidoh feels. Neither one of them is stopping. Neither one of them is pulling away.
Kaidoh searches those eyes and they confirm what he hasn't wanted to let himself believe, that this is real, the things he's feeling ... it isn't just his mind playing tricks on him. And up close like this, it's becoming impossible to deny. He really ... Kaidoh really ... He feels ... Oh. Yeah. He feels a lot of things for Momoshiro.
He's traced it before, back to when it all started, when things began to shift and he stopped wanting to hit Momoshiro in the face to hurt him and just wanted to be close to him instead. He knows the feeling. He's known it for years, but even now, even like this, he won't name it. He just lets it float around in his stomach like this ambiguous, fizzy weight. It's how he feels every time he's with Momoshiro. Even when he's not with Momoshiro. More and more, just the fleeting thought of him is enough to make Kaidoh's insides feel gooey and excited. But what it is, what it all means ... That's like some taboo subject, just like this, what they're doing right now, is something they'll never talk about out loud.
This time is different, Kaidoh can feel it, he can see it in Momoshiro's eyes, the way he's looking back at him, and the pulse in Kaidoh's neck leaps, recognizing the feeling and wanting to latch onto it. It makes Kaidoh shiver a bit in spite of the heat their bodies are generating.
His brain still refuses to string it together for him, to connect the dots, but his mouth isn't nearly so stubborn or timid, and Kaidoh curls his fingers around the back of Momoshiro's head, his pinky grazing the soft skin of Momoshiro's neck, so he can pull Momoshiro's face closer again and press his mouth bravely against Momoshiro's lips. Bravely because, as though he's plummeting over a waterfall's edge, he suddenly acknowledges what it means to do this. To want to do this. He doesn't dare say it out loud, doesn't even want to say it in his own mind, but it's there, obvious as his own heartbeat. It always has been. And like his heartbeat, it's not something Kaidoh can shake, it's not something that's going to go away.
And Kaidoh is okay with that, in fact, he finds he doesn't want it to go away. For once he's almost ... maybe ... not embarrassed with how he's feeling. Scared, yes-his body trembles against Momoshiro's as he feels Momoshiro's lips press back against him, a wet and reassuring warmth, feeling inexplicably more intense than any time they've done this before-but not embarrassed. He feels like he should be, but he isn't. He just feels good. Really good.
There are still faint traces of laughter escaping from Momoshiro’s mouth each time he pulls back and lets out an amused breath, just to connect them with Kaidoh’s again. It’s sort of strange, sort of weird, but Momoshiro is under Kaidoh’s spell, he’s unable to think about anything deeply, to control his own actions anymore. Or what they even mean; he’s simply enjoying the ride. And yes, he’s enjoying the hell out of it. Momoshiro has no idea why he’s so amused, feels so light, but he’s humming against Kaidoh’s lips as if he’s trying to talk to him, but no words are said. He simply puckers his lips and sucks, then rinse and repeat.
Momoshiro can’t stop playing with Kaidoh’s fingers either, like it’s keeping him grounded from floating away, he just feels really light. Like he has no worries, like there’s nothing keeping him down on earth, it’s all fluttery and something constant hums in his stomach, like a nice crackle of a fireplace in the middle of winter. It’s keeping him warm and comfortable, Kaidoh is doing all of this to him, and Momoshiro can’t stop being addicted to it.
Again, he’s way too focused on these feelings to realize what they mean. It’s better not to think, and to continue kissing Kaidoh as if nothing else matters. And nothing really does, everything else seems insignificant compared to this.
Their moist lips swipe over each other, eliciting more soft giggles from Momoshiro. What used to be harsh moans and groans from the friction of their bodies, is now a low current of enlightenment, and a case of the giggles. Momoshiro doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t question it, as long as Kaidoh keeps pressing and moving his lips against Momoshiro’s, then nothing matters, he doesn’t want to think about anything else. It’s still going slow, as if they’re murmuring soundless words to each other, it’s definitely a different pace from the other times. And Momoshiro finds he likes this just as much, perhaps even more? This is not a case of both of them filled with crazy hormones, this is a case of …
… Of doing it because they want to.
Oh yes, Momoshiro certainly wants to. It’s why he started it, isn’t it? Can he even resist kissing Kaidoh anymore now? He’s always drawing him in, doing stupid annoying things like letting Momoshiro draw on his stuff, or quit his running early just to go see him, Kaidoh goes along with whatever Momoshiro suggests lately. And it’s fun, it’s definitely fun.
That smile on Momoshiro’s face is still not going away, his lips still curled each time he kisses Kaidoh.
Momoshiro leans back a little bit, his lips separating from Kaidoh’s, and he wants to press them together again, but this time he shifts to the right and he plants a kiss on Kaidoh’s soft and warm cheek. His hand slips away from underneath Kaidoh’s cheek, and he runs it across his shoulder, to his arm, to the hand that is on the back of Momoshiro’s neck, and he grabs hold of it, making Kaidoh pause his actions. As he slowly tears it away from his neck, Momoshiro kisses the corner of Kaidoh’s mouth, and then, as he brings Kaidoh’s hand up towards the side of his face, he tilts his head so that he can kiss the inside of Kaidoh’s palm. It tastes kind of like the ocean, but mostly it feels tingly and warm. He smiles and sighs contently against it, eyes closed in pure bliss. He presses the entire palm of Kaidoh’s hand against his cheek, his hand covering Kaidoh’s.
And then he looks at Kaidoh, a bit smug, a whole lot of happy, but mostly it’s an expression only Kaidoh can draw out of him. It’s reserved only for the snake. And Momoshiro wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s too hopeless.
Momoshiro drops Kaidoh’s hand, closes his eyes, and wraps both his arms around Kaidoh’s neck, pulling him in a tight embrace so he can kiss him once more. It’s simply something he cannot stop, Kaidoh’s pulling all the right strings and he’s not even moving.
Kaidoh's arms seem to take their cue from Momoshiro's and, without even thinking about it, he wraps them around Momoshiro's back, holding onto him just as tightly, his palms zinging with heat. Yes, Kaidoh Kaoru is, completely willingly, reaching his arms out to hug someone, to hold them close. And not just anyone, but Momoshiro of all people, someone who usually only inspires violent outbursts and insults. Other things too, more recently, but all those could be waved off as, perhaps on a very primal level, simply a continuation of those fights.
But now Kaidoh is holding onto him, not shoving, not pushing, just holding him close like he's all Kaidoh wants, like he wants nothing more than to be close to him. And the way his heart is beating in solid agreement, Kaidoh knows that it's true. In this moment, he wants nothing more than to keep his arms wrapped around Momoshiro's warm, familiar body, their faces close and pressed together, their shared breaths ringing in Kaidoh's ears.
It's not something that's ever felt natural for him to do before; none of this did. None of this is something he'd ever have found normal or comfortable-he'd have run horrified from the suggestion-but now it's preferable to anything else, feels better than anything else. And it's only because it's with Momoshiro.
Somehow with Momoshiro, there are no limits, there's nothing that is out of bounds, and Kaidoh acts differently than he would with anyone else. He acts more like himself than he would with anyone else. Momoshiro knows how to drag this side out of him, tear down all his walls. He knows exactly the right thing to say, to do, to make Kaidoh react. He always has. And Kaidoh doesn't even need to think about it, their understanding was always unspoken, a heated undercurrent of instinct. It's like it requires no additional effort. Everything just flows, and Kaidoh is grateful for that. Momoshiro has always been a subject that's come easy to him. Even now when he feels he's discovering something new about him with each second they spend pressed tight and warm together like this, it doesn't feel like something foreign or unknown, but merely an uncovering of things that were already there.
None of this feels strained or wrong or outside of Kaidoh's comfort zone even though, objectively, all of it is. All of it is new and strange, and Kaidoh doesn't know where to put his hands or how to move his mouth, and yet, at the same time, he does; it comes naturally, and hey, they've had some practice by now. He isn't even thinking about what he's doing, he's just doing it. Somehow, with Momoshiro, all of Kaidoh's careful planning just flies right out the window, replaced by pure impulse. Kaidoh usually likes structure, he likes order, he likes things that are simple and routine, but Momoshiro is none of those things and that should make him nervous, but instead Kaidoh finds he likes that best of all.
But right now Momoshiro is so unlike the whirlwind of energy and chaos that's always sent Kaidoh into an annoyed outrage. Now Momoshiro is so tender, so caring, that Kaidoh nearly wants to hit him on the head just to remind him who he's here with, because Kaidoh is sure Momoshiro can't be thinking clearly. Either that or Kaidoh's dreaming it. Because Momoshiro doesn't act like this with Kaidoh, and Kaidoh doesn't act like this with Momoshiro, and yet here they are. And Momoshiro is touching and kissing Kaidoh like he … like he might … The thought makes Kaidoh's pulse flutter hopefully against his ribcage, but it's so stupid he can't bring himself to fill in the blanks, let alone let himself believe in it. Momoshiro's actions are just that-actions. He just … does things, he always has, and they don't need to have any weight or meaning or implications to them. Why should it matter anyway, what it all means? Can't they just like this? Momoshiro likes this, Kaidoh likes this. It's simple and they're simple. It's how things should be.
So he presses his lips tighter, firmer, against Momoshiro's mouth, letting the tingling sensation he's grown to long for wash through him, like Momoshiro is a wave crashing against his body, sending water rushing through his ears and drowning out his thoughts. Now isn't the time for thinking. Not when Kaidoh's too busy feeling.
Momoshiro is way too busy feeling to think straight. Or think at all. Because after all, thinking is evil, and if he starts to run this through a filter in his head-all his actions, all of Kaidoh’s reactions-then things will happen. Then things will be more, well, real, and Momoshiro can’t ignore it anymore. Ignore it and enjoy it for what it is. Enjoy Kaidoh’s gentle lips without putting any meaning behind it. Or the way he’s holding him as much as Momoshiro is wrapping his arms around him. Whatever he does, Kaidoh does too, whatever he wants, Kaidoh goes along, and whatever things Kaidoh suddenly does, it’s something he’s wanted all this time.
It feels a lot different than before. Being so slow, taking in the sensations of their skin touching and moving, it sends heat to his heart like it has never done before. Momoshiro thought he felt it all on that day they started it, the pounding of his heart, the rushed movements, the urgency in their actions, and the gasps for breath. He never realized he could also enjoy taking a breather, to bask in this relaxing warmth, and to simply … like it.
Yeah, Momoshiro likes it.
Kaidoh seems to like it too.
But he can’t think. Not now. It will make things too real, too meaningful, so Momoshiro tries to shut himself down and simply react on instinct. The instinct to move his lips against Kaidoh’s, as if he’s massaging them gently, with his arms almost suffocating Kaidoh with the strength of his grip around Kaidoh’s neck. He carefully takes Kaidoh’s bottom lip, warm and moist, into his own mouth, letting his tongue lick against the delicate skin, and giving a bit of suction as well. Compared to last time, they’re doing this in slow motion, but Momoshiro has no complaints. It feels nice and tingly, and it’s making something constant build up inside of his body. And no, those aren’t his crazy hormones.
Or perhaps they are? Just a new kind of hormones, hormones that think it’s a good idea to kiss Kaidoh. That’s it.
Momoshiro plays with Kaidoh’s hair with his fingers, barely even noticing this subconscious act. He sucks a bit harder on Kaidoh’s bottom lip, before he releases it, feeling more swollen and wet now, and he eagerly presses his lips against them again.
He still remembers there was a time when he was really nervous about kissing a girl. What to do, how to move, and hoping he didn’t suck. But those kind of thoughts have never entered Momoshiro’s mind when he’s with Kaidoh. Not even once. Maybe it’s because Kaidoh isn’t a girl in the first place. But he tries not to think about that fact, instead he just stumbles his way through it. Even if he can end up being a bit clumsy, or bump his nose into Kaidoh’s, or their teeth click against each other, he simply moves on. He doesn’t want to disturb the pace. Self conscious thoughts don’t belong in this moment. Only he and Kaidoh do, and that’s a very nice thought which makes butterflies fly in his stomach again.
Or that might just be something else. Something a bit more deep, more meaningful, something which keeps building up the longer they do this. Maybe it’s a silent understanding between them, like how they both know how to move their lips against each other just like this, in this slow pace, not fighting, not throwing each other off. Whatever it is, Momoshiro is gradually accepting the way it’s making itself home inside of him, like a new part of him that he’s never known about, but is knocking on his door and saying hi, and wants in. Maybe that part is simply Kaidoh, because he’s annoying and he can always dig himself under Momoshiro’s skin.
Or maybe it’s something else entirely … like …
Momoshiro stops sucking on Kaidoh’s lips, and he flutters his eyes open, pulling away enough so he can look at Kaidoh’s face.
And it would have been a very serene moment, maybe even an epiphany waiting around the corner, if it weren’t disturbed by the loud crackling noise of his stomach crying out in hunger. Momoshiro blinks in his startled state, Kaidoh stares back at him.
Right … he hasn’t eaten anything in three hours.
Momoshiro sheepishly smiles at Kaidoh, before his stomach makes another sound that sounds very much like ‘aww’ and then he simply bursts out into laughter. His shoulders shake against Kaidoh and he finally sits up straight, arms slipping away from Kaidoh’s neck. His stomach hurts from hunger and laughter, and his heart is still beating in that steady pace.
"I’m hungry," says Momoshiro through his laughter. He balls up his hand into a fist and gently drops it onto Kaidoh’s chest. "What’s for dinner?" He throws his head to the side, and gives Kaidoh a content smile.
Kaidoh seems kind of stunned though, and Momoshiro figures it’s a good idea to shake him up out of his daze, so he he bends down to Kaidoh’s face once more, sticks out his tongue, and swipes it across Kaidoh’s lips. "Hmm, salty," says Momoshiro as he pulls back again. More like ocean-y. But hey, the moment is already ruined, might as well have some fun and tease Kaidoh before he’ll get punched in the face.
Kaidoh scowls at him, an expression that comes easily, even though his body is still buzzing a little with pleasant feelings.
"That's disgusting," he says flatly, ignoring the fact that they both just had their mouths all over each other and he hadn't found any of that disgusting in the slightest. Because he sure as hell isn't going to acknowledge that now. Although the fact that Momoshiro is still on top of Kaidoh makes it a little hard to just brush it off as though it never happened, as though it was nothing, as though it was meaningless. It wasn't nothing, and it was far from meaningless, but if Kaidoh dwells on that, on what it might mean, he'll drive himself crazy.
So he just shoves his arms-those same arms that had moments ago been pulling Momoshiro closer-against Momoshiro's shoulders, this time hard enough to throw him off, and pulls himself up off the bed as well.
"Wah!" Momoshiro topples over and lands in between his sea of blankets. "Hey!" he yells out indignantly when he tries to sit up straight again. He glares at Kaidoh; the fine and serene mood they were in just seconds ago has now been completely shattered, though his lips are still throbbing pleasantly. And that new feeling settles down in the pit of his stomach; it’s not going away despite the mood switching over.
Now they’re back to being Momoshiro and Kaidoh again. This is the stuff he knows, this always feels familiar to him, but that humming in his stomach is definitely new. It might just be because he’s hungry though.
There’s something stabbing Momoshiro in his back, and he rolls over to see what it is; it’s his precious black marker. Kaidoh probably dropped it sometime after drawing those pokeballs on his bandana. Or burgers. Whatever. He stretches out his arm and picks it up, then flings it at Kaidoh for good measure, aiming at his chest, as if it’s his fault it was poking him in the back.
"Go make me some food," he also says dismissively. He got Kaidoh to draw things for him, call him Momo-chan, got to kiss him, so why not make food as well.
"Go make it yourself," Kaidoh shoots back, wanting to point out that he's already done quite a lot for Momoshiro today, because he has, but, given what they were just doing, that might sound a little weird. And that's not something Kaidoh wants to talk about anyway, although his mind is insisting he continue to think about it.
"Idiot," he adds as an afterthought, because that's what Momoshiro is, for forcing his way into Kaidoh's mind and refusing to go away. Momoshiro might as well have a permanent spot in there by now, probably with an annoying little flag staked into the ground and everything.
And just like with everything today, Momoshiro doesn’t return Kaidoh’s indifference with an indignant insult, but instead he throws his arms around Kaidoh in a dramatic manner. As if he’s throwing sparkling confetti around, the same kind that’s still stuck inside of his stomach.
"Food!" he squeals out, then glomps Kaidoh’s side. Very much like how he grabbed him before they went down to business. "Strawberries?" he adds after it. His stomach filled with confetti growls in agreement.
Kaidoh huffs, his whole body stiffening a little out of habit and then relaxing again. "When they're ripe," he replies, and gives Momoshiro a look like he thinks he's the most impatient person on the planet. And, when it comes to food, he kind of is. "Give them a week."