#36 Theme 23: Little Love Story - Penicillin; Tora/Hiroto
Title: Cock Talk
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 023 Little Love Story (Penicillin)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: Smut. Fluff. Complete crack. No srsly. I'm not… I’m not even going to try and hide it.
Comments: "How's it hanging?"
Cock Talk
At first Tora didn't think too much of it, just Hiroto being silly and deciding it was okay to down a whole pot of coffee before he'd had a proper chance to wake up. Just Hiroto up to his naughty tricks again. Just Hiroto being a little more goofy than normal.
He didn't think much of it.
---
The soft click of the shower door opening and closing and wiggling toes padding into view alerted him to the other's presence. Smirking, Tora closed his eyes and tipped his face back into the warm spray of water. The pounding, soothing heat felt heavenly washing away his morning weariness.
"How's it hanging?"
"Hmm?" he mumbled out, eyes shut in bliss and not really listening.
A stifled snicker met his questioning hum.
Hiroto sounded much too cheery for whatever time of the day it was. Rolling his eyes, Tora glanced over to see whatever it was the younger man was up to now. However, instead of meeting bright glittering eyes and a mischievous smile, all he got was the dripping top of Hiroto's head.
"How's it hanging?" he repeated persuasively.
Features leaning towards exasperated and not knowing if he really wanted to know, Tora followed the smaller man's gaze down. Down, down, down...
"What the fuck?"
He was tempted to take a step back (possibly out, out, and away) to try and maybe process the workings of the other's mind.
"How's it hanging?" This time Hiroto looked up, pout evident on his face, one hand wrapped around his half-hard length, moving it emphatically with his words, while the other hand rested flat on his own belly. Face splitting into a painfully sunny grin, he suddenly burst into infectious laughter at the other man’s face, attempting to hip-bump Tora and ending up slipping, slick protruding hipbone to hipbone, and laughing even harder.
"Hah-How-ha,” he broke off hysterically, “HANGING!"
Arching an eyebrow, the older man caught Hiroto around the waist and contemplated just fucking the nonsense out of him - there seemed to be quite a lot of it today. But instead, Tora breathed, counting to ten before he spun the smaller man around and pressed him into the wall.
"What the hell are you on?"
More sniggering and Hiroto was being impossibly difficult and doing his best to avoid looking anywhere but down and between them.
"Hiroto," demanding as he tried to sound, the younger man touching himself and moving to touch Tora was acid on his resolve.
"Grab your dick and start talking!" Hiroto growled harmlessly, nudging his own handful of arousal into Tora's hip.
Mostly confused (he wondered if he would ever understand some of the things that went through Hiroto's head) Tora could only think to do as demanded, slicking up his cock and using it for better things than talking.
---
When they finished, Hiroto had merely waved his spent length, "Tired," at Tora and wandered out to fall asleep on the couch for the rest of the morning. Now, weeks later, the other guitarist was left shaking his head at the memory. He didn't know what was more ridiculous - the fact that Hiroto was playing penis puppet master with his cock or the fact that, after about a steady month full of the same sort of mornings, the younger man had finally gotten Tora into at least halfheartedly playing along.
"Good morning Little Tora!!! And how are we today?"
He almost cringed as the younger practically sang the words into their shower stall, tumbling in, cheerful greeting gushing out from between pink lips. Standing on his tiptoes so the head of his cock was at about the same height as Tora’s, Hiroto frowned when the other took too long to reply, puffing out his cheeks and reaching out with his free hand to grope at him.
Resisting the urge to both roll his eyes and roll his hips into the touch, Tora grumbled shortly, "Deprived. Now can you please either start moving your hand or turn around so I can move it in you?"
"Oh?"
Hiroto ignored him, ears perking up to some imaginary cock-speak.
"Me? Well you know, the usual, been forced down a dark hole and made to do push-ups til I puked."
Tora snorted at that, pulling Hiroto's warm fingers off him and once again backing the smaller up into the tiled wall.
"Oh really now?" he purred dangerously. "I'm pretty sure the only hole Little Pon's," gods yes it had a name, "been shoved into had a light at the end of the tunnel. And I don't remember him being forced to do anything he didn't want to do. Isn't that right baby?" His words rumbled out against plush lips, lips that smirked sloppily around his tongue while he muttered under his breath, all playfulness loss in the spread of legs and grinding of hips.
"You are one kinky little shit you know that," Tora whispered grumpily, pulling Hiroto closer and hiking him up his own waist, teeth nipping at every inch of skin while warm water slipped down their chests. Hiroto only sighed with content, moaning softly at each rough thrust and the bruising grip beneath his thighs.
Hiroto was damn lucky he was normal the rest of the time. Tora didn't know what he would do if he was always like this.
"T-Tora."
He only had to breathe the words and Tora's hips would push harder, only had to pant hotly in his ear and Tora's fingers would wrap around him, bring him to completion.
"Tora."
The bathroom was silent as limbs unraveled and warm water once again rinsed them clean. Heart pounding back to normal, Tora wrapped his arms over Hiroto's head and crossed them loosely around his neck. "I love you, you know that?"
He pressed a kissed to a wet temple, but gods did Tora wonder if this was in any way normal. He was tempted to ask, maybe Aki would know. Saga? Was that what everyone did nowadays? Hiroto liked to read magazines, maybe it was some freaky new fad he wanted to try, a trend Tora hadn't heard about? Maybe a strange fantasy? Whatever it was, he was just glad it wasn't stopping him from getting off. If the tiny guitarist was fine with Tora's own penchant for using toys on him, Tora could at least do this.
"Time for work," Hiroto grinned, tugging him out beneath a big towel, as if he hadn't just forced Tora into another game of cock talk.
He really did act passably normal outside of their occasionally animated mornings.
Really, he did.
Peeling himself off Tora's front, he got dressed, leaving his bewildered counterpart under the towel and wondering what the hell it was about mornings that made him like this. Although he did tend to taste like too much coffee, Tora thought, licking his lips and tasting it on the inside of his mouth.
---
"Well I just... Is it normal?"
Shou proceeded to spit all over the café table, attempting to cover his mouth, eyes watering with mirth, while Tora's own eyes narrowed on him.
"It's not funny!" the dark haired man whined, yanking out a fistful of napkins from the dispenser to wipe up the mess. "I'm telling you because you're close to us and I thought you would know or something... I just wanted... to... you know. Oh, stop it! Should I bring him somewhere? Get professional help?"
Shou really did burst into tears then, laughing so hard it hurt.
Tora sat and glared sullenly through it all, cheeks a profuse pink, waiting for his friend to stop so all the people around them could quit staring. Hopefully no one would recognize them.
"T-Tora," Shou broke into breathless laughter again. It really was too much.
He finally managed to calm down, taking a long sip of his milk tea before attempting to start again.
"Tora no, no no no, you've got it all wrong. He loves you." His face couldn't help but contort again too funny too much too funny squirrel chittering away holding his nuts and talking to Tora's cock too funny adding, "Loves every protruding bit of you," before he had to turn away and drown in giggles all over again.
"Oh, thanks for the insight," Tora bit out sarcastically, glad Shou was finding this so fucking hilarious (which it was, but he didn’t have to wake up to it every other morning). He stood up and slapped a tip down onto the table. Inviting Shou out for coffee and questions after practice really had been a waste of time.
Choking on snorts that really wanted to be the words "H-Hey! Wait Tora! Wait!" Shou ran after the retreating figure, long legs catching up in no time.
"Tora. Tora, Tora listen. You have nothing to worry about! Nothing." The vocalist peered up into hazel eyes and offered a reassuring smile. "You and me both know he loves you. If this is bothering you so much, you should just talk to him about it. God only knows why you're talking to me about it," he made a face, but clapped Tora on the back.
"Yeah yeah yeah," the guitarist grunted, lips twitching grudgingly. It was pretty silly, but Hiroto loved him. And Tora loved that he had that. And everything that came with it, although he did wonder a lot about the things that came with it.
"After all, it's probably just another one of those phases... stages... Puberty," Shou sighed, flipping his hand wistfully and feigning a reminiscent look before he had to duck down to avoid Tora's fist.
"What?!" he squawked, "We all know you like them young!" he called over his shoulder, breaking into laughter while hastily scampering away, Tora hot on his trail.
---
At home Tora found Hiroto huddled in the living room over their coffee table. They had parted right after practice with a rather manly kiss to the younger's forehead, swearing he’d be home soon. All Tora said was an old friend wanted to have coffee with him, he didn’t mention anything about that old friend being Shou. Shrugging off his jacket, he contemplated asking now.
Or maybe the morning was more suitable?
When Hiroto was trying to throw his voice and mime with his dick?
Tora's train of thought broke off however, when he caught sight of a colorful array of papers on the surrounding floor.
"What are you doing?"
Hiroto looked up with deceivingly innocent eyes.
"Folding."
Tora took a step closer and plopped down on the couch, feeling a little pooped out from chasing Shou down the street.
"Folding what?"
He switched on the television and relaxed.
"Paper," Hiroto answered nonchalantly.
"Oh really?"
"Really."
The younger continued to tell Tora nothing but the obvious, crumpling up another failed attempt and grabbing a new sheet off the floor.
"That one's shiny," the older man remarked offhandedly, lowering the volume and watching Hiroto finger a golden foiled square.
"I know," he replied haughtily, knees folded up beneath him and lips pursed in concentration.
"What are you making?"
Tora really wanted to know. Wanted to know now.
"Nothing."
---
In hindsight, Tora really had to wonder what sort of ungodly powers Hiroto had.
The tiny guitarist generally did whatever he wanted in the mornings and still managed not to rouse the him from sleep (at least most of the time). Maybe it was because Tora was used to the slip of a body squirming around and making itself comfy on his chest. Maybe it was because he was dead to the world when the warm sheets were heated and wrinkled just right.
Whatever it was, not until the height of pollen season did Tora catch him. Catch him red handed.
---
Congested mumbling woke him up. A loud sniffle-snort and wet nose wiping against his naked hipbone.
Furrowing his brows together, Tora cracked an eye open and squinted down the bed into the blinding morning light. Was Hiroto having a nightmare or something? He'd prefer not to have snot all over his front, but he didn't like it when the other had bad dreams. All he could make out however, was the messy top of Hiroto's head, the feel of cheekbone on his hip and a hand resting on his thigh.
"Pretty Tiger," he heard the tuff of hair coo.
What the actual fuck?
It was Hiroto's voice, though an off-pitch tone, that woke him up. Probably because he wasn't used to hearing it. But then a hand started petting, no rubbing him in all the deliciously right ways and those thoughts scattered away along with any thoughts of going back to sleep. Tora was forced to bite his lip, hold back the groan that would alert Hiroto to his consciousness because this was awkward. And he was curious. Hard as hell, woken from a really good dream, but curious.
Did this happen every morning? And to think Tora wondered why sometimes he woke up more tired than usual, sticky and sweaty with Hiroto grinning like the sun. A very mischievous one. Hah. Sneaky bastard. Although he couldn’t complain, but really? Really?
"Pretty, pretty Tiger."
Tora's cheeks were pink now. This was actually sort of embarrassing. Embarrassing in an intimate sort of way. As if he had walked in on a private moment between Hiroto and his cock. Although… he was attached to his cock… He really wasn’t sure what he was blushing for, but the lubed fingers stroking him certainly weren't helping the heat on his cheeks. It wasn't bad, even though the younger man was tutting out sweet nothings and fussing over him (in a good way) while he was supposedly asleep.
Hiroto giggled softly, nasally from his allergies.
What? What was this? Penis envy?
Hiroto wasn't exactly small, but Tora was still bigger, but, but... He tried to stop thinking because it was already so hard to try. His brain was focused on a more southern route anyway, breath heavy. Hiroto started talking again.
"Check out my new digs, I get to be a penguin today!" The whisper-giggle-sneeze was muffled against warm skin, mattress creaking while (Tora assumed) Hiroto mimed along with his cock.
Wait penguin?
Eyes narrowing - this was getting more and more absurd and bizarre - Tora slowly, delicately craned his neck to see over Hiroto's hip.
If he wasn't so hell-bent on feigning sleep, Tora was mildly certain his eyes would have popped out and rolled over the bed's edge. Instead, the disheveled man squeezed them shut, willing Hiroto's hand to just hurry up and make him come so he’d have an excuse to wake up and whack him on the head.
He had a penguin. Thing. Paper. Fold up. Whatever. On his cock. If the situation were a bit more sane Tora would've had to stop and admire the other's handiwork; cleverly folded wings and beak made of golden foil paper with hand drawn eyes. But it was on his cock for fuck’s sake! Standing proudly if anyone cared to know.
He didn't know what to do. This had to be some sort of weird fetish right? Or a really really strange dream. Just… just let him play it out. Sweat trickled lazily down Tora's temple and he had to resist the urge to bring a hand up and wipe it away, maybe swat Hiroto's penguin away with it.
"Awwww. All I get is this stupid rubber suit."
Tora wanted to cry. With laughter? He wasn't sure.
Hiroto was talking.
For both their cocks.
It was so preposterous he couldn't even wrap his mind around it. In fact, Tora didn't even register his 'rubber suit' was a condom until Hiroto giggled softly, "Yes well, protection is important and you'll want to be lubed up for where you're going!" Then he proceeded to slide a condom on and drop down onto the other man's arousal.
"What the fuck!" The words left him in a gasp, large hands coming up to fumble for a slim waist and undulating hips straddling his. "Fuck, Pon, what the actual fuck?!" Tora let loose a string of hissed curses, rolling over and slamming in unrestrained with each syllable. "You. Are You. Seriously. Fuck. What are you even doing?"
Fifteen minutes later, he couldn't remember what he was doing or even why he was doing it as his hips began to stutter and rock in earnest. But then Hiroto's penguin was flying off not seconds later, shot sticky with release, and Tora was recalling exactly why this had all begun, even as white flooded his vision and he fell forward with a gasp.
It took a minute or two to recover, muscles relax, but then Tora was pulling out and going off on Hiroto - hands slapping and whacking with no real intent other than to annoy and vent out his frustrations on the squealing form wriggling away.
"What… What ARE you?!" he wailed. Hiroto was back to laughing, tripping off and climbing back onto the bed when it became clear Tora wasn't going to take up chase.
"What is this?!" He picked up the soiled penguin fold up and threw it at him.
"Kokigami!" Hiroto grinned, eyes glittering with poorly contained laughter. "It's origami for your penis! Or… my penis actually."
Tora shook his head. Poor poor sod. Completely off his rocker.
"What?"
Hiroto looked confused when his lover simply flopped back down onto the bed.
"Don't you like it?"
"Hiroto," Tora turned his head to face him, "Why?" He drew the word out ardently.
"Why what?"
"Why this? Kokigami and the bathroom puppet shows and… you were talking for my cock." His voice was oddly calm, almost serious because he really wanted, maybe even needed to know. Why all the nonsense?
Hiroto at least had the decency to blush, face turning the brightest shade of pink before he shuffled over on his knees and nudged himself a place against Tora's side, glad for the arm that came up to wrap around him nevertheless.
"I read it somewhere…" he mumbled, trailing off and burying his face into a warm neck.
"Read what?" Tora asked gently, coaxing softly and running his fingers up and down a smooth back.
He waited patiently through a long pause for Hiroto to heave in a deep breath before he gushed out, "I read it somewhere that your man likes it when you give his penis a nickname because sometimes he thinks it's ugly or that you think it's ugly and that makes him ashamed and he wants you to love him for all of him and you can show him you do by talking to his dick and playing with it and and I never thought about it like that and I love you for all of you I really do and I'm sorry you don't like it I really do love you for all - " Tora pressed a kiss to rambling lips, effectively shutting him up.
Pulling apart, he laid back down to try and comprehend what Hiroto had just said.
"I'm sorry," the other warbled morosely, sniffling thickly into his chest mostly from allergies. but also from embarrassment.
"Baby, don't be sorry," Tora cooed, in much the same way Hiroto had been doing to his cock. He really was silly. And adorable. And oddly enough it felt nice. In those moments before he was engulfed in heat, Hiroto paying such loving attention to him down there was really quite… quite something. Precious maybe? Knowing the other appreciated how well-endowed he was - he couldn't really be mad at that.
"Pon," he tilted the other's chin up to meet his gaze. "I know you love me," glistening eyes brightened, "I love you too. But," he had to tip the smaller man's chin higher up to stop his face from crumpling completely, "But I think you’ve been reading one too many women’s magazines."
Tora’s face split into a wry smirk at Hiroto's stunned expression. Was it really that obvious? He thought he hid them quite well actually behind his cds and things.
"You have a dick too, honey. What have I got to be ashamed of?"
That was true. He’d been too excited about the idea to stop and think about that. Hiroto blushed furiously.
"So you don’t…"
"Hiroto, I love you. You love me. I'd prefer you sucking me off to some sort of cock-whisperer any day."
A/N:
D: CRACK!FIC WHY?! *sweats*
I blame this all on tingedwords. Or at least half of it. Three quarters?
Guys are really weird about their dicks btw. Sadistic and masochistic LOL
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 023 Little Love Story (Penicillin)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: Smut. Fluff. Complete crack. No srsly. I'm not… I’m not even going to try and hide it.
Comments: "How's it hanging?"
Cock Talk
At first Tora didn't think too much of it, just Hiroto being silly and deciding it was okay to down a whole pot of coffee before he'd had a proper chance to wake up. Just Hiroto up to his naughty tricks again. Just Hiroto being a little more goofy than normal.
He didn't think much of it.
---
The soft click of the shower door opening and closing and wiggling toes padding into view alerted him to the other's presence. Smirking, Tora closed his eyes and tipped his face back into the warm spray of water. The pounding, soothing heat felt heavenly washing away his morning weariness.
"How's it hanging?"
"Hmm?" he mumbled out, eyes shut in bliss and not really listening.
A stifled snicker met his questioning hum.
Hiroto sounded much too cheery for whatever time of the day it was. Rolling his eyes, Tora glanced over to see whatever it was the younger man was up to now. However, instead of meeting bright glittering eyes and a mischievous smile, all he got was the dripping top of Hiroto's head.
"How's it hanging?" he repeated persuasively.
Features leaning towards exasperated and not knowing if he really wanted to know, Tora followed the smaller man's gaze down. Down, down, down...
"What the fuck?"
He was tempted to take a step back (possibly out, out, and away) to try and maybe process the workings of the other's mind.
"How's it hanging?" This time Hiroto looked up, pout evident on his face, one hand wrapped around his half-hard length, moving it emphatically with his words, while the other hand rested flat on his own belly. Face splitting into a painfully sunny grin, he suddenly burst into infectious laughter at the other man’s face, attempting to hip-bump Tora and ending up slipping, slick protruding hipbone to hipbone, and laughing even harder.
"Hah-How-ha,” he broke off hysterically, “HANGING!"
Arching an eyebrow, the older man caught Hiroto around the waist and contemplated just fucking the nonsense out of him - there seemed to be quite a lot of it today. But instead, Tora breathed, counting to ten before he spun the smaller man around and pressed him into the wall.
"What the hell are you on?"
More sniggering and Hiroto was being impossibly difficult and doing his best to avoid looking anywhere but down and between them.
"Hiroto," demanding as he tried to sound, the younger man touching himself and moving to touch Tora was acid on his resolve.
"Grab your dick and start talking!" Hiroto growled harmlessly, nudging his own handful of arousal into Tora's hip.
Mostly confused (he wondered if he would ever understand some of the things that went through Hiroto's head) Tora could only think to do as demanded, slicking up his cock and using it for better things than talking.
---
When they finished, Hiroto had merely waved his spent length, "Tired," at Tora and wandered out to fall asleep on the couch for the rest of the morning. Now, weeks later, the other guitarist was left shaking his head at the memory. He didn't know what was more ridiculous - the fact that Hiroto was playing penis puppet master with his cock or the fact that, after about a steady month full of the same sort of mornings, the younger man had finally gotten Tora into at least halfheartedly playing along.
"Good morning Little Tora!!! And how are we today?"
He almost cringed as the younger practically sang the words into their shower stall, tumbling in, cheerful greeting gushing out from between pink lips. Standing on his tiptoes so the head of his cock was at about the same height as Tora’s, Hiroto frowned when the other took too long to reply, puffing out his cheeks and reaching out with his free hand to grope at him.
Resisting the urge to both roll his eyes and roll his hips into the touch, Tora grumbled shortly, "Deprived. Now can you please either start moving your hand or turn around so I can move it in you?"
"Oh?"
Hiroto ignored him, ears perking up to some imaginary cock-speak.
"Me? Well you know, the usual, been forced down a dark hole and made to do push-ups til I puked."
Tora snorted at that, pulling Hiroto's warm fingers off him and once again backing the smaller up into the tiled wall.
"Oh really now?" he purred dangerously. "I'm pretty sure the only hole Little Pon's," gods yes it had a name, "been shoved into had a light at the end of the tunnel. And I don't remember him being forced to do anything he didn't want to do. Isn't that right baby?" His words rumbled out against plush lips, lips that smirked sloppily around his tongue while he muttered under his breath, all playfulness loss in the spread of legs and grinding of hips.
"You are one kinky little shit you know that," Tora whispered grumpily, pulling Hiroto closer and hiking him up his own waist, teeth nipping at every inch of skin while warm water slipped down their chests. Hiroto only sighed with content, moaning softly at each rough thrust and the bruising grip beneath his thighs.
Hiroto was damn lucky he was normal the rest of the time. Tora didn't know what he would do if he was always like this.
"T-Tora."
He only had to breathe the words and Tora's hips would push harder, only had to pant hotly in his ear and Tora's fingers would wrap around him, bring him to completion.
"Tora."
The bathroom was silent as limbs unraveled and warm water once again rinsed them clean. Heart pounding back to normal, Tora wrapped his arms over Hiroto's head and crossed them loosely around his neck. "I love you, you know that?"
He pressed a kissed to a wet temple, but gods did Tora wonder if this was in any way normal. He was tempted to ask, maybe Aki would know. Saga? Was that what everyone did nowadays? Hiroto liked to read magazines, maybe it was some freaky new fad he wanted to try, a trend Tora hadn't heard about? Maybe a strange fantasy? Whatever it was, he was just glad it wasn't stopping him from getting off. If the tiny guitarist was fine with Tora's own penchant for using toys on him, Tora could at least do this.
"Time for work," Hiroto grinned, tugging him out beneath a big towel, as if he hadn't just forced Tora into another game of cock talk.
He really did act passably normal outside of their occasionally animated mornings.
Really, he did.
Peeling himself off Tora's front, he got dressed, leaving his bewildered counterpart under the towel and wondering what the hell it was about mornings that made him like this. Although he did tend to taste like too much coffee, Tora thought, licking his lips and tasting it on the inside of his mouth.
---
"Well I just... Is it normal?"
Shou proceeded to spit all over the café table, attempting to cover his mouth, eyes watering with mirth, while Tora's own eyes narrowed on him.
"It's not funny!" the dark haired man whined, yanking out a fistful of napkins from the dispenser to wipe up the mess. "I'm telling you because you're close to us and I thought you would know or something... I just wanted... to... you know. Oh, stop it! Should I bring him somewhere? Get professional help?"
Shou really did burst into tears then, laughing so hard it hurt.
Tora sat and glared sullenly through it all, cheeks a profuse pink, waiting for his friend to stop so all the people around them could quit staring. Hopefully no one would recognize them.
"T-Tora," Shou broke into breathless laughter again. It really was too much.
He finally managed to calm down, taking a long sip of his milk tea before attempting to start again.
"Tora no, no no no, you've got it all wrong. He loves you." His face couldn't help but contort again too funny too much too funny squirrel chittering away holding his nuts and talking to Tora's cock too funny adding, "Loves every protruding bit of you," before he had to turn away and drown in giggles all over again.
"Oh, thanks for the insight," Tora bit out sarcastically, glad Shou was finding this so fucking hilarious (which it was, but he didn’t have to wake up to it every other morning). He stood up and slapped a tip down onto the table. Inviting Shou out for coffee and questions after practice really had been a waste of time.
Choking on snorts that really wanted to be the words "H-Hey! Wait Tora! Wait!" Shou ran after the retreating figure, long legs catching up in no time.
"Tora. Tora, Tora listen. You have nothing to worry about! Nothing." The vocalist peered up into hazel eyes and offered a reassuring smile. "You and me both know he loves you. If this is bothering you so much, you should just talk to him about it. God only knows why you're talking to me about it," he made a face, but clapped Tora on the back.
"Yeah yeah yeah," the guitarist grunted, lips twitching grudgingly. It was pretty silly, but Hiroto loved him. And Tora loved that he had that. And everything that came with it, although he did wonder a lot about the things that came with it.
"After all, it's probably just another one of those phases... stages... Puberty," Shou sighed, flipping his hand wistfully and feigning a reminiscent look before he had to duck down to avoid Tora's fist.
"What?!" he squawked, "We all know you like them young!" he called over his shoulder, breaking into laughter while hastily scampering away, Tora hot on his trail.
---
At home Tora found Hiroto huddled in the living room over their coffee table. They had parted right after practice with a rather manly kiss to the younger's forehead, swearing he’d be home soon. All Tora said was an old friend wanted to have coffee with him, he didn’t mention anything about that old friend being Shou. Shrugging off his jacket, he contemplated asking now.
Or maybe the morning was more suitable?
When Hiroto was trying to throw his voice and mime with his dick?
Tora's train of thought broke off however, when he caught sight of a colorful array of papers on the surrounding floor.
"What are you doing?"
Hiroto looked up with deceivingly innocent eyes.
"Folding."
Tora took a step closer and plopped down on the couch, feeling a little pooped out from chasing Shou down the street.
"Folding what?"
He switched on the television and relaxed.
"Paper," Hiroto answered nonchalantly.
"Oh really?"
"Really."
The younger continued to tell Tora nothing but the obvious, crumpling up another failed attempt and grabbing a new sheet off the floor.
"That one's shiny," the older man remarked offhandedly, lowering the volume and watching Hiroto finger a golden foiled square.
"I know," he replied haughtily, knees folded up beneath him and lips pursed in concentration.
"What are you making?"
Tora really wanted to know. Wanted to know now.
"Nothing."
---
In hindsight, Tora really had to wonder what sort of ungodly powers Hiroto had.
The tiny guitarist generally did whatever he wanted in the mornings and still managed not to rouse the him from sleep (at least most of the time). Maybe it was because Tora was used to the slip of a body squirming around and making itself comfy on his chest. Maybe it was because he was dead to the world when the warm sheets were heated and wrinkled just right.
Whatever it was, not until the height of pollen season did Tora catch him. Catch him red handed.
---
Congested mumbling woke him up. A loud sniffle-snort and wet nose wiping against his naked hipbone.
Furrowing his brows together, Tora cracked an eye open and squinted down the bed into the blinding morning light. Was Hiroto having a nightmare or something? He'd prefer not to have snot all over his front, but he didn't like it when the other had bad dreams. All he could make out however, was the messy top of Hiroto's head, the feel of cheekbone on his hip and a hand resting on his thigh.
"Pretty Tiger," he heard the tuff of hair coo.
What the actual fuck?
It was Hiroto's voice, though an off-pitch tone, that woke him up. Probably because he wasn't used to hearing it. But then a hand started petting, no rubbing him in all the deliciously right ways and those thoughts scattered away along with any thoughts of going back to sleep. Tora was forced to bite his lip, hold back the groan that would alert Hiroto to his consciousness because this was awkward. And he was curious. Hard as hell, woken from a really good dream, but curious.
Did this happen every morning? And to think Tora wondered why sometimes he woke up more tired than usual, sticky and sweaty with Hiroto grinning like the sun. A very mischievous one. Hah. Sneaky bastard. Although he couldn’t complain, but really? Really?
"Pretty, pretty Tiger."
Tora's cheeks were pink now. This was actually sort of embarrassing. Embarrassing in an intimate sort of way. As if he had walked in on a private moment between Hiroto and his cock. Although… he was attached to his cock… He really wasn’t sure what he was blushing for, but the lubed fingers stroking him certainly weren't helping the heat on his cheeks. It wasn't bad, even though the younger man was tutting out sweet nothings and fussing over him (in a good way) while he was supposedly asleep.
Hiroto giggled softly, nasally from his allergies.
What? What was this? Penis envy?
Hiroto wasn't exactly small, but Tora was still bigger, but, but... He tried to stop thinking because it was already so hard to try. His brain was focused on a more southern route anyway, breath heavy. Hiroto started talking again.
"Check out my new digs, I get to be a penguin today!" The whisper-giggle-sneeze was muffled against warm skin, mattress creaking while (Tora assumed) Hiroto mimed along with his cock.
Wait penguin?
Eyes narrowing - this was getting more and more absurd and bizarre - Tora slowly, delicately craned his neck to see over Hiroto's hip.
If he wasn't so hell-bent on feigning sleep, Tora was mildly certain his eyes would have popped out and rolled over the bed's edge. Instead, the disheveled man squeezed them shut, willing Hiroto's hand to just hurry up and make him come so he’d have an excuse to wake up and whack him on the head.
He had a penguin. Thing. Paper. Fold up. Whatever. On his cock. If the situation were a bit more sane Tora would've had to stop and admire the other's handiwork; cleverly folded wings and beak made of golden foil paper with hand drawn eyes. But it was on his cock for fuck’s sake! Standing proudly if anyone cared to know.
He didn't know what to do. This had to be some sort of weird fetish right? Or a really really strange dream. Just… just let him play it out. Sweat trickled lazily down Tora's temple and he had to resist the urge to bring a hand up and wipe it away, maybe swat Hiroto's penguin away with it.
"Awwww. All I get is this stupid rubber suit."
Tora wanted to cry. With laughter? He wasn't sure.
Hiroto was talking.
For both their cocks.
It was so preposterous he couldn't even wrap his mind around it. In fact, Tora didn't even register his 'rubber suit' was a condom until Hiroto giggled softly, "Yes well, protection is important and you'll want to be lubed up for where you're going!" Then he proceeded to slide a condom on and drop down onto the other man's arousal.
"What the fuck!" The words left him in a gasp, large hands coming up to fumble for a slim waist and undulating hips straddling his. "Fuck, Pon, what the actual fuck?!" Tora let loose a string of hissed curses, rolling over and slamming in unrestrained with each syllable. "You. Are You. Seriously. Fuck. What are you even doing?"
Fifteen minutes later, he couldn't remember what he was doing or even why he was doing it as his hips began to stutter and rock in earnest. But then Hiroto's penguin was flying off not seconds later, shot sticky with release, and Tora was recalling exactly why this had all begun, even as white flooded his vision and he fell forward with a gasp.
It took a minute or two to recover, muscles relax, but then Tora was pulling out and going off on Hiroto - hands slapping and whacking with no real intent other than to annoy and vent out his frustrations on the squealing form wriggling away.
"What… What ARE you?!" he wailed. Hiroto was back to laughing, tripping off and climbing back onto the bed when it became clear Tora wasn't going to take up chase.
"What is this?!" He picked up the soiled penguin fold up and threw it at him.
"Kokigami!" Hiroto grinned, eyes glittering with poorly contained laughter. "It's origami for your penis! Or… my penis actually."
Tora shook his head. Poor poor sod. Completely off his rocker.
"What?"
Hiroto looked confused when his lover simply flopped back down onto the bed.
"Don't you like it?"
"Hiroto," Tora turned his head to face him, "Why?" He drew the word out ardently.
"Why what?"
"Why this? Kokigami and the bathroom puppet shows and… you were talking for my cock." His voice was oddly calm, almost serious because he really wanted, maybe even needed to know. Why all the nonsense?
Hiroto at least had the decency to blush, face turning the brightest shade of pink before he shuffled over on his knees and nudged himself a place against Tora's side, glad for the arm that came up to wrap around him nevertheless.
"I read it somewhere…" he mumbled, trailing off and burying his face into a warm neck.
"Read what?" Tora asked gently, coaxing softly and running his fingers up and down a smooth back.
He waited patiently through a long pause for Hiroto to heave in a deep breath before he gushed out, "I read it somewhere that your man likes it when you give his penis a nickname because sometimes he thinks it's ugly or that you think it's ugly and that makes him ashamed and he wants you to love him for all of him and you can show him you do by talking to his dick and playing with it and and I never thought about it like that and I love you for all of you I really do and I'm sorry you don't like it I really do love you for all - " Tora pressed a kiss to rambling lips, effectively shutting him up.
Pulling apart, he laid back down to try and comprehend what Hiroto had just said.
"I'm sorry," the other warbled morosely, sniffling thickly into his chest mostly from allergies. but also from embarrassment.
"Baby, don't be sorry," Tora cooed, in much the same way Hiroto had been doing to his cock. He really was silly. And adorable. And oddly enough it felt nice. In those moments before he was engulfed in heat, Hiroto paying such loving attention to him down there was really quite… quite something. Precious maybe? Knowing the other appreciated how well-endowed he was - he couldn't really be mad at that.
"Pon," he tilted the other's chin up to meet his gaze. "I know you love me," glistening eyes brightened, "I love you too. But," he had to tip the smaller man's chin higher up to stop his face from crumpling completely, "But I think you’ve been reading one too many women’s magazines."
Tora’s face split into a wry smirk at Hiroto's stunned expression. Was it really that obvious? He thought he hid them quite well actually behind his cds and things.
"You have a dick too, honey. What have I got to be ashamed of?"
That was true. He’d been too excited about the idea to stop and think about that. Hiroto blushed furiously.
"So you don’t…"
"Hiroto, I love you. You love me. I'd prefer you sucking me off to some sort of cock-whisperer any day."
A/N:
D: CRACK!FIC WHY?! *sweats*
I blame this all on tingedwords. Or at least half of it. Three quarters?
Guys are really weird about their dicks btw. Sadistic and masochistic LOL
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