Seven Drive-by Commentfictions (NC-17)
Those of you who know me know that I have an incredibly demanding job that sucks up all of my free time way too often. When this happens, I don't have the time/energy to write, and that very greatly depresses me.
To combat that depression, I'll surf around the 'net (read: y!gallery) and find pictures I like, then leave a comment-fiction for the artist. It doesn't happen terribly often, but lately it's been happening a lot, and I didn't want to lose track of the stories. Also wanted to share.
Here are the seven drive-by commentfics I've done over the last three months. I've included the arts that inspired me, so please take a look! I'm a bit biased on fandom lately - there's only one fic in here that isn't Ookiku Furikabutte - but hopefully you'll still enjoy. :)
Seven Drive-by Commentfictions
by mistr3ss Quickly
For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Haruna/Mihashi/Abe
"Fine. If Ren wants to. But I'm not kissing you."
Haruna sighs and rolls his eyes, hands on Mihashi already, moving him, touching him. Making him shiver the way Abe's used to making him shiver.
Abe scowls at his former pitcher. Scoots down the bed so he can kiss Mihashi, remind him who his real lover is. Who the outsider is.
Mihashi whimpers softly and kisses back, all tongue and warm breath and little noises in the back of his throat, his fingers threading through Abe's hair, holding him still. Tightening when the noises escalate into breathy little moans, his tongue thrusting into Abe's mouth. Fucking it.
Abe takes it, cock throbbing with each noise his pitcher makes. Makes quite a mess of himself before it occurs to him that it's not the kiss that's got Mihashi so hot and bothered - it's the fingers moving steadily in and out of Mihashi's body, wet with what had better be enough lube, the hand stroking his cock. Probably the callouses on those fingers, rubbing where he's most sensitive. Working his prostate.
Still, he's hesitant to pull away from the kiss, even when Mihashi stops kissing him back, crying out into his mouth as he's breached by Haruna's (long, stiff, god was he always that big?) erection. Peppers kisses across Mihashi's cheek, down to his shoulder. Bites the curve of muscle he's been working with Mihashi to develop, runs his tongue over the marks his teeth leave.
"T-Takaya," Mihashi whispers, turning so that his breath washes over the shell of Abe's ear. "P-please."
Abe groans. This was part of the deal, part of satisfying his pitcher's fantasy. Part of what he agreed to when he said he'd go along with Mihashi's suggestion. To back out now, to deny Mihashi what he wants, would feel like lying. Like betrayal.
Abe is no traitor.
He steals one last kiss, pushes himself to his knees. Mihashi's watching him when he crawls forward, lips wet and parted. Licks those lips when Abe gets close enough to straddle him, stretches his arms over his head, fingertips brushing Abe's knees as Abe leans down, guiding his cock into his pitcher's waiting mouth.
Mihashi sucks him in right away. Sucks him like he means it, like he's desperate for it. Moans around him like it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth. Like he can't get enough of it.
Which feels good - feels amazing - but the way Haruna's watching him, staring at him with those big dark eyes, licking his lips and fucking Mihashi harder, takes the raw edge off of the pleasure. Makes Abe's stomach twist. Makes him consider, just for a moment, closing his eyes. Pretending that it's just him and Mihashi. No one else.
But that would feel like giving up, like cheating, something Abe is notoriously bad at. So he keeps his eyes open, meets Haruna's gaze with his own. Moves his hips in time with the pulse and shudder of Mihashi's body, fucking his pitcher's mouth.
Haruna quirks a grin at him. "Feels amazing, doesn't he," he says.
Abe glares at him. "Of course he does," he says.
"Mmm, even better when he's sucking on you," Haruna says, thrusting harder. He twists his body (was he always that flexible? God) and fucks at a different angle. Probably rubbing Mihashi's prostate directly, if the sound Mihashi makes is any indication. Fucking with short, hard snaps of his hips. Just like Abe likes it when Mihashi's got him on his back, fucking him.
It's not how Mihashi likes it, Abe knows from experience. Can tell from the way Mihashi sucks him with less enthusiasm. Squirms a little like he's trying to get away from the bruising pace Haruna's set.
"Slow down, he doesn't like it like that," Abe says, glaring at his former teammate. "Do it more gently."
Haruna lifts an eyebrow at him. Snaps his hips forward, hard enough that Mihashi chokes on Abe's cock.
"Sorry," he said, "last I checked, you weren't topping this time, Takaya."
"Look, just don't do it like that," Abe says, pulling his cock back as far as he can, Mihashi arching up to keep the head in his mouth, sucking at it in a way that is very quickly distracting Abe from the fight he's trying to have with Haruna. "It's not how he--"
"Yeah, but one-on-one with you wasn't good enough either," Haruna says. He has, at least, slowed down, fucking a bit more like Mihashi likes it. But still. "So shut up and let the guy have what he wants for once."
"You're such a jerk," Abe says.
Haruna laughs. "Whatever," he says. "You know, I think you talk too much. C'mere, do something better with that tongue of yours."
Abe opens his mouth to object. Gets maybe half a word out before Haruna - just as fast as ever, just as strong - gets a hand at the back of his head and pulls, fingers curled in his hair. Drags him over Mihashi's body and kisses him, all teeth. Fucks Abe's mouth just as hard as he's fucking Mihashi's ass. Just as hard as Abe used to fantasize about getting kissed, back when he was young and stupid enough to think that Haruna was still a good choice of idol.
He pulls away from the kiss when Haruna's grip slackens, the older man's attention diverted to the orgasm he's having in Mihashi's ass, pounding Mihashi through it, Mihashi's cock bouncing from the force of it, half-hard against his belly.
"Goddamn," Haruna pants, pulling out. "Wow. He's good."
Abe pulls his cock out of Mihashi's mouth. Reaches down, expecting Mihashi to crawl into his arms. Expecting to have a distraught pitcher to comfort, a jerk pitcher to mutilate.
Instead, he gets Mihashi's half-lidded thoroughly debauched gaze kind of half-focused on him, Mihashi licking his lips, one of his hands shaking a little as he reaches down to take his cock in hand.
"K-kiss him again?" he says, stroking himself. "L-let me watch you?"
Abe frowns at him. Leans down and steals a kiss, trying his hardest to ignore the way Haruna's laughing at them, smug as ever.
"All right," he says, against his pitcher's lips. "Just this once. If that's what you want."
Mihashi nods, hair scrubbing against the sheets. "Just this once," he echoes. "Just this once."
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For this drawing by imlikat
Fandom: Naruto ~ Pairing: Sasuke/Kakashi
There are some notable differences, Kakashi decides, between fighting a teenager and fighting a man who's seen more horrors than most could handle.
He's gotten stronger, for one.
Faster.
Heavier.
But perhaps most surprisingly, he's gotten a sense of humor.
Humor.
Who'd've thought?
Not that Kakashi's laughing, not really. Might laugh later, he thinks, but not now. Now, he's just got a smile on his face that's more than a little likely to piss of his former student. Which is fine, because that former student can see his smile, thanks to the useless shreds he's turned Kakashi's mask into, nevermind what he's done to Kakashi's shirt. Sure it's a standard-issue shirt, won't cost Kakashi anything to replace, but still, Kakashi will have to fill out a form explaining what happened to the old shirt, and frankly, the thought of committing "My student got the jump on me and undressed me with a kunai" to paper isn't something Kakashi is looking forward to, especially.
He considers, for half a second, including that the guy with the kunai in his hand at the time of his shirt's demise also had an erection between his legs. Decides, when Sasuke tosses the kunai aside and covers Kakashi's condescending smirk with the kind of kiss that leaves Kakashi breathless and just as erect, that he'll leave that part out.
"And do you know why," Sasuke growls against Kakashi's lips, strong hands holding Kakashi's arms to the ground, his grip forceful enough that Kakashi isn't entirely sure he could break away without a fight, "why I'm going to send you back to the village without your mask?"
Kakashi swallows and shakes his head. Keeps his gaze locked with Sasuke's.
"I will send you back to the village without your mask because I have been waiting," Sasuke says, "since I was thirteen to see what's under that mask." He shifts, rubbing his cock against Kakashi's stomach, his ass against the swell of Kakashi's erection. "Only to find that it's nothing. Nothing."
It's a faint scar where Kakashi had a harelip mended as a baby. Thin, chapped lips he no longer softens with lip balm. A scar on his chin where he fell under a nasty jutsu as a younger man and cut himself when his ANBU mask broke.
"So," Sasuke says. "This is your punishment."
"And the shirt?" Kakashi says.
"Punishment for making me wait."
"Wait?"
"Yes. When we were genin. You were late. Always. For everything."
"I could make it up to you," Kakashi says, rocking his hips just a fraction, just enough to rub himself against his former student's ass - which is firmer than it was the last time he had the opportunity to touch it. Feels good.
Sasuke snorts. Grins down at his captive.
Grins. Doesn't even look all that deranged when he does it, either.
"You can try," Sasuke says. "But I'm not giving you my shirt. You'll have to find your own."
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For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
In the movies - the ones Abe likes to watch, anyway - people say it when the world's about to end. When they've saved the world from ending. When the world's doing its best to end and is taking one of the characters with it.
In the TV shows his mom watches in the afternoon, people say it in bed. In the street. Over the phone. In front of thousands of strangers. Too damn much, as far as Abe's concerned.
In one of the books Abe read for his literature class, the main character said it before killing himself. Which was really kind of cool, actually, cooler because the guy saying it was saying it to his country, not the girl who thought he was saying it to her. His teacher said that's what made the story tragic. Abe disagreed. He thought that made the story tolerable. Enjoyable, even.
Whatever.
Abe's never said it. Never had the need to say it. Doesn't think he's missing anything by not having it said to him.
When Mihashi says it, he's in Abe's bed. He's straddling Abe's body, nude but for his briefs, his skin slightly cool where Abe's got the AC on just a bit too high. Which Abe would fix, were his hands not busy warming his pitcher, too busy to bother with reaching out to pick up the unit's remote and turn the blower down. He says it softly, almost like he's joking. Says it with his eyes closed, more relaxed than he ever is when he's looking Abe in the eye.
From anyone else, that would feel like insincerity. From Mihashi ...
Abe swallows the ridiculous feelings that rise like a lump in his throat at his pitcher's words. Drags his fingertips down Mihashi's spine, just for the little shiver it earns him. Keeps his eyes open when Mihashi leans down and presses their lips together in a kiss.
"You too," he says, when Mihashi sits back up and opens his eyes, all the usual self-doubt and hesitation creeping back into his expression. Says it quick, before Mihashi can wonder if he means it. Which he does. So much. "I love you, too."
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For this drawing by dranka
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
The snowball fight, Abe decides, is a terrible idea.
Mostly because he's so very not sober, because his friends are no better off than he. Partly because it's cold and he's drunk and really just wants to go home and pass out under the kotatsu with Mihashi until he's gotten over his birthday hangover. And maybe a little - just a smidge - because he's worried about Mihashi getting hurt.
Maybe.
Not like Mihashi's not tough enough to take an injury or two. Not like he hasn't already taken damage, playing ball and coaching his own team and - much to Abe's embarrassment - taking a tumble or two out of bed when Abe got a bit too overzealous that one time.
But still. He's Abe's pitcher, nevermind that he hasn't pitched to Abe in years. And he's Abe's ... friend. With benefits. Lots of benefits. Means Abe's got a responsibility to watch out for the guy. Needs to keep him from getting unnecessarily banged up.
Which means no snowball fights in the middle of the night in a deserted playground with a bunch of drunken idiots from their high school days, means Abe's dodging a sloppy throw from Hanai and glaring in the dim light glaring way too brightly off the snow, god, looking around for Mihashi. Means he's not paying attention to the beer-addled attacks his friends aim at him, doesn't really need to.
Until one connects. Hard. Square in the middle of his back.
Then Abe's just pissed.
He turns around, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow on the way, when his equilibrium tips, sending him into a graceless sideways stumble. He gets his balance (and his handful of snow) and looks up just in time to see his attacker rearing back, a snowball gripped in his hand. Has barely enough time to process the thought that Mihashi - his Mihashi - is getting ready to nail him with a fucking snowball - another fucking snowball - before the damn thing hits him, right in the shoulder. Sends him into a completely undignified sprawl, his ass planted right in the stupid snow.
Tajima's laughter rings out around him, bright and shrill and too goddamn loud, Hanai's voice joining it, saying something about how Mihashi "got him good" even though all Mihashi's going to get is a glare, maybe get his ears boxed. Abe shoots a glare in their direction and works on picking himself up. Almost has his bearings when he hears footsteps, Mihashi crunching through the snow towards him, wearing the biggest smile Abe's ever seen on the guy.
"Are you all right?" Mihashi says, putting a hand - the glove still covered in snow, evidence of his treachery - on Abe's arm, steadying him.
"Fine. No thanks to you." Abe glares at his pitcher. "You do that too well for a guy who's been drinking."
Mihashi blushes - blushes! - and looks away, a hint of his old shy self coming through. "It's just a snowball fight," he says. "Not real pitching."
Abe snorts. Doesn't shake his pitcher off his arm, even when Tajima starts cooing over how cute they are. Puts his hand on top of Mihashi's, just in case Mihashi gets it into his head to let go.
He might catch a cold if he doesn't stay close like he is, might slip in the snow and hurt himself. He has been drinking, after all. Needs someone to look after him, make sure he gets home safely to a hot bath and dry clothes.
Abe's fine with that task. Rather enjoys it, much more than the snowball fight, all the way home.
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For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
At first, he thinks Mihashi's just trying to help him undress.
Which is weird, but Mihashi is weird, so he doesn't think much about it. He watches his elbows, careful not to hit his pitcher in the head as he strips off his jersey and undershirt. Tosses his undershirt over to his bag, the thing so sweaty it'll need to be wrapped in a plastic bag before he stuffs it into his duffel. Takes a bit more care with his jersey, in part because it's not as gross as his undershirt, and in part because it's his jersey. It's important.
Mihashi's gotten his uniform pants unbuttoned and worked down his hips when he looks down to see what the guy's up to, tugs on Abe's underwear before Abe has a chance to open his mouth and offer to take off his socks and shoes so his pants'll come off more easily. Gets his mouth wrapped around the head of Abe's cock - half-hard already because the thing apparently doesn't care that they're in the clubhouse at school, still, all it cares about is that Mihashi's nearby and touching Abe, which means Mihashi might touch it - before Abe has a chance to ask him what he thinks he's doing. Uses his tongue to play with Abe's foreskin, licking it and rolling it around and moving it back and forth before Abe's had a chance to tell him that they really shouldn't be messing around in the clubhouse. Feels too good for Abe to want to tell him to stop. Not yet, anyway.
Besides, it's starting to rain and the others left a good ten minutes earlier while Abe was helping Mihashi stretch in the dugout. And anyway, they're not right next to the door, so Abe reasons that he'll have time to turn around and cover himself if someone walks in, make it look like he's accidentally pulled his underwear down along with his pants while changing, or something.
It sounds pretty good in his head, kind of sounds believable. He pulls his jersey on over his head as an afterthought, figures that'll help make things look a little less suspicious if they do get caught.
Mihashi's looking up at him when he bunches the front of his jersey up, keeping it well out of his pitcher's way. All big brown eyes and lips starting to go pink where he's working Abe's foreskin over the head, not quite pushing it back where it belongs because he knows that drives Abe crazy. Has those strong, talented fingers tangled in the fabric of Abe's underwear, just barely brushing against his balls. Keeping Abe close.
As if Abe had anywhere else to be.
He murmurs Mihashi's given name when the sight of Mihashi pulling back and licking the tip of his cock, then pushing the foreskin back using nothing but his tongue is too much, enough to make Abe's cock jerk, leaking precome. He threads his fingers through Mihashi's hair and groans when Mihashi licks up his precome like he's starved for it, pushes his hips forward just a bit when Mihashi whimpers and sucks him in.
Just like something out of a porno. Better than anything in porn. Better than anything he's ever done with Abe before, which hasn't been much but it's all been pretty hot, so ...
Abe's not going to last long, he can tell already. Not that he ever lasts very long when he's with Mihashi, but this time especially, wrung out already from practice and more turned on than he's ever been before, the combination of the risk they're taking and Mihashi's enthusiasm and the fact that Mihashi started it all conspiring to take him down faster than usual.
Mihashi doesn't seem to mind his lack of stamina, anyway. Isn't sucking on him like he wants him to last, either. Sucks harder - sloppier, making so much noise, god - when Abe can't resist thrusting a little, breathing hard.
"I'm close," Abe warns him after what feels like a minute, at best. "Ren, stop, I'm going to come."
He's not expecting Mihashi to actually stop. His insistence that his pitcher not swallow his come has always fallen on deaf ears, before. So when Mihashi pulls off, tensing and turning away, Abe cries out in surprise, too slow to cup a hand over his cock before he starts to come, his semen catching Mihashi in the face, dripping down the guy's hair and cheek and chin onto his jersey, the last few dribbles making a mess of Abe's cock, dripping onto Mihashi's hand.
"Fuck," Abe says (breathes). "I didn't-sorry, let me-"
Mihashi looks up at him. Licks his lips. Leans forward and licks the head of his cock, keeping eye-contact with Abe as he does it, seriously just like something out of a porno.
"I thought I heard someone coming," he says, licking where Abe's foreskin rests, wrinkled under the head, just because he knows Abe's ticklish there. "I would have um. Swallowed it. Otherwise."
Abe's cock jerks. Mihashi looks down at it. Kisses the tip.
Embarrassment and arousal have a brief but furious war in Abe's mind, concern for his pitcher sneaking in at the last minute and winning out over the other two. He reaches down and wrestles his pants out of Mihashi's grip, gets himself covered. Digs in his bag for a towel. Kneels on the cold cement floor to clean up the mess he made.
"That was good," he says, once Mihashi's no longer dripping, though he's sticky enough he'll need a bath.
He's still rock-hard, too, which means-
Abe casts a quick glance at the door. It's not locked, but the chances anyone'll come back are so slim, and his pitcher's so hard, might hurt himself - his pitching wrist - if he sneaks off to relieve himself and does it too fast, too rough. Too something.
That's what Abe tells himself, anyway, as he drops his hands to Mihashi's belt and pulls, hushing Mihashi's stuttered protests with little more than a look and a kiss, no more protests coming when he leans down and covers Mihashi's cock with his mouth, returning the pleasure he felt as best he can.
Only, he thinks, unlike his pitcher, he'll swallow. Wouldn't do to be messy if someone decides to walk in, after all.
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For this drawing by ondoibili
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
Had Yamashita of Tokyo's Josei Seven succeeded, it would've been a great photo.
Two guys alone together in an empty locker room, kissing, would've been enough to get him maybe a quarter of a page somewhere in the middle of the September issue. Two guys alone together in an empty locker room, kissing, with one guy wearing nothing but his undershirt and a pair of boxers might've gotten him half a page.
But a photo of two guys, one of whom plays ball professionally for one of the year's top Japanese teams, alone together in the team locker room, kissing and groping each other?
Front-page full-color set-for-life gold, that. Yamashita's heart was absolutely pounding as he focused in for that shot, his boss's praise already echoing in his ears.
Only Japanese readers are a tricky bunch - suspicious and skeptical of everything, especially in the sort of magazine that hired Yamashita in the first place. So Yamashita - being the wily, intelligent fellow that he is, decided to go for the proof first, then the overall effect second. Make sure he didn't end up with a priceless photo rejected by the internet - his nemesis - as forged. Photoshopped.
Fake.
He got a shot of the other guy - not the team's consulting physician, but a doctor of some kind, he's pretty sure - first, a good shot that showed not only the guy's class ring (from a medical school in Nagoya) but the ridges of the erection he was palming as well. Angled his camera up a bit and got a good shot of the team's name silk-screened across the pitcher's shirt, still readable even with the shirt twisted and folded in on itself. Got a third picture of them kissing - well, kind of. Leaning in for a kiss. An artistic shot, not the kind of thing Yamashita usually goes for and certainly not the kind of thing that will make him any money, not as zoomed in as it is (he's not sure anyone would be able to really tell it's Mihashi Ren in the photo, nevermind the gender of the lips brushing close for a kiss) but whatever, maybe a good teaser for the cover. Not like digital cameras waste valuable film, anyway.
He'd zoomed out for the money shot - a full-body shot of the two guys goin' at it, hell yes - when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Had the camera focused when his ears pricked, alerted to an almost-not-there sound behind him. Had his finger on the stupid button to get the stupid shot when a hand came down on his shoulder, heavy enough that he couldn't very well ignore it.
Which was probably a good thing, considering the size of the man looming over him, glaring at him like he'd pissed on the emperor or something. Ignoring that kind of individual hadn't ended well for Yamashita in the past. Ended with him in the hospital, actually. Footing the bill for a new camera to replace the one the man he'd ignored smashed into a million pieces before doing the same to Yamashita's face.
His face, at least, was spared a beating this time. His camera, too. But the memory stick - full of all kinds of pictures he'd taken of the crowd during the game, stuff he's kind of pretty sure would've gotten him blackmail money, if not a quarter page towards the back of Josei Seven - disappeared into pocket of the guy still too big for Yamashita to fight. Disappeared with the man himself, leaving Yamashita with an empty camera and the kind of disappointment only cheap beer helps to dispel.
~*~*~*~
It's two years before he sees his photos again.
Well. One of them. The one he liked the least, even, but it's unmistakably his photo, crisp and clear and shot in full, beautiful color, framed in a wooden frame and sitting on the desk of the now-retired baseball star he's gotten the honor of interviewing through the friend-of-a-friend. He works for a respectable paper now, nothing like what he used to do. Knows he shouldn't mention the picture but -
"Oh, that?" Mihashi says, reaching back and picking up the frame, rubbing his thumb affectionately over the glass. "I don't know who took the picture, but it's from two years ago, when we won the national championships. We changed to sleeved undershirts after that year, so you can tell that's when it was taken."
"Where did the photo come from?" Yamashita asks. His voice sounds calm, he's pretty sure. Mostly.
"One of my former classmates from high school gave it to me," Mihashi says. "Wouldn't say where he got the photo. He said he'd let me figure it out, but I never have."
Yamashita's pretty sure he'd be killed if he helped clear up that particular mystery. He clears his throat instead. "I see," he says. "Well. It's a very nice picture."
"Mmm," Mihashi says. He strokes his thumb over the photo once more, right over the lips of the man he was with, that day. Smiles. "It's always been one of my favorites."
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For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
It's certainly different from doing it to himself. More awkward, lying there with his ass in the air, his face buried in Mihashi's pillow. Kind of embarrassing, feeling someone else's fingers pushing inside him, especially there. Especially since Mihashi is being so ridiculously careful with him, using enough lube to drown a small village, his free hand petting Abe's hip, as though being teased to the point of dripping on the bedsheets were something Abe needs to be soothed over.
He's just about to the point of lifting his face to growl at Mihashi to hurry the fuck up already when Mihashi shifts, the bed creaking a little as Mihashi moves to straddle Abe, his cock pressed so temptingly against Abe's back, exactly where it can't do Abe any good, angled exactly backwards from how Abe would rather it be, somewhere he could manage to get it up inside him where he wants it. Fucking him, nice and deep.
He lifts his face to tell Mihashi that (kind of) when Mihashi leans forward. Abe feels his complaints catch in his throat, his mind racing as he feels Mihashi's breath, warm where the lubricant's cool on his skin, washing over him half a second before Mihashi's lips touch him. Kissing him. Right where Mihashi's fingers have just been.
It's ... good. Beyond good when Mihashi pulls away from the kiss and licks his lips, leans back in immediately and kisses Abe again, this time with his tongue, slipping just the tip inside Abe's body, wiggling and pushing where Abe is most sensitive, his body clenching spastically in response.
"R-Ren," he gasps, clawing at the sheets. "That's -- that's really good."
Over him, Mihashi shivers. Rocks his hips, rubbing himself against Abe's back as he dips his tongue in deeper, his fingers pulling and squeezing, keeping Abe spread open. Exposed.
It's simply too much.
Abe gulps at the air, feeling his body spiraling way too fast towards orgasm, faster than he's gone since he was a teenager masturbating to the first pictures of naked men he'd managed to get his hands on. Not that he cares. He's got a man French kissing his asshole, rubbing wantonly -- nakedly! -- against him. Moaning softly like Abe's the best thing he's ever felt, ever tasted. Leaking enough against Abe's skin to slick his strokes, more aroused and sloppy than Abe's ever felt him before.
He comes hands-free for the first time in his life when Mihashi thrusts forward, hard, and shoves his tongue in deep, moaning like he's the one shattering into a million pieces, leaving a wet spot on the sheets. Is the one coming, maybe thirty seconds later, his come splattering across Abe's ass and lower back, but Abe doesn't care, doesn't care, not when his body's clenching with the aftershocks of getting tongue-fucked to orgasm, Mihashi's lips pressing against his cheeks in sweet, almost innocent little kisses. Mihashi's hands smoothing over him, cleaning him up. Mihashi's voice shaking a little, full of concern when he asks if what he did was all right.
"I wanted to t-try something new," he says when Abe rolls over and says god yes, it was more than okay, then demands to know where on earth Mihashi got the idea for that. "And you looked so g-good, I thought ..."
Abe reaches for him. Pulls him close and kisses him, uncaring where the tongue he's coaxing into his mouth has just been. He's feeling boneless and completely satisfied. Pretty sure he'll be wanting an encore as soon as his body's stopped being completely done with sex, his cock ready to get some direct attention.
"That was incredible, Ren," he says, nuzzling the shell of Mihashi's ear. Grins against his lover's neck. "Want me to do it to you next time? Show you how good it is?"
He feels a shiver course through Mihashi's body where it's pressed against his. Hears Mihashi swallow.
"Y-yeah. In a bit."
Abe's cock twitches. "All right," he says, his heart beating a bit faster in anticipation. "In a bit."
Note: This was originally the last chapter of Over the Hills and Far Away. Didn't really fit with the rest of the arc, though, so I rewrote the chapter. I think the new chapter is much better, eh?
To combat that depression, I'll surf around the 'net (read: y!gallery) and find pictures I like, then leave a comment-fiction for the artist. It doesn't happen terribly often, but lately it's been happening a lot, and I didn't want to lose track of the stories. Also wanted to share.
Here are the seven drive-by commentfics I've done over the last three months. I've included the arts that inspired me, so please take a look! I'm a bit biased on fandom lately - there's only one fic in here that isn't Ookiku Furikabutte - but hopefully you'll still enjoy. :)
Seven Drive-by Commentfictions
by mistr3ss Quickly
For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Haruna/Mihashi/Abe
"Fine. If Ren wants to. But I'm not kissing you."
Haruna sighs and rolls his eyes, hands on Mihashi already, moving him, touching him. Making him shiver the way Abe's used to making him shiver.
Abe scowls at his former pitcher. Scoots down the bed so he can kiss Mihashi, remind him who his real lover is. Who the outsider is.
Mihashi whimpers softly and kisses back, all tongue and warm breath and little noises in the back of his throat, his fingers threading through Abe's hair, holding him still. Tightening when the noises escalate into breathy little moans, his tongue thrusting into Abe's mouth. Fucking it.
Abe takes it, cock throbbing with each noise his pitcher makes. Makes quite a mess of himself before it occurs to him that it's not the kiss that's got Mihashi so hot and bothered - it's the fingers moving steadily in and out of Mihashi's body, wet with what had better be enough lube, the hand stroking his cock. Probably the callouses on those fingers, rubbing where he's most sensitive. Working his prostate.
Still, he's hesitant to pull away from the kiss, even when Mihashi stops kissing him back, crying out into his mouth as he's breached by Haruna's (long, stiff, god was he always that big?) erection. Peppers kisses across Mihashi's cheek, down to his shoulder. Bites the curve of muscle he's been working with Mihashi to develop, runs his tongue over the marks his teeth leave.
"T-Takaya," Mihashi whispers, turning so that his breath washes over the shell of Abe's ear. "P-please."
Abe groans. This was part of the deal, part of satisfying his pitcher's fantasy. Part of what he agreed to when he said he'd go along with Mihashi's suggestion. To back out now, to deny Mihashi what he wants, would feel like lying. Like betrayal.
Abe is no traitor.
He steals one last kiss, pushes himself to his knees. Mihashi's watching him when he crawls forward, lips wet and parted. Licks those lips when Abe gets close enough to straddle him, stretches his arms over his head, fingertips brushing Abe's knees as Abe leans down, guiding his cock into his pitcher's waiting mouth.
Mihashi sucks him in right away. Sucks him like he means it, like he's desperate for it. Moans around him like it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth. Like he can't get enough of it.
Which feels good - feels amazing - but the way Haruna's watching him, staring at him with those big dark eyes, licking his lips and fucking Mihashi harder, takes the raw edge off of the pleasure. Makes Abe's stomach twist. Makes him consider, just for a moment, closing his eyes. Pretending that it's just him and Mihashi. No one else.
But that would feel like giving up, like cheating, something Abe is notoriously bad at. So he keeps his eyes open, meets Haruna's gaze with his own. Moves his hips in time with the pulse and shudder of Mihashi's body, fucking his pitcher's mouth.
Haruna quirks a grin at him. "Feels amazing, doesn't he," he says.
Abe glares at him. "Of course he does," he says.
"Mmm, even better when he's sucking on you," Haruna says, thrusting harder. He twists his body (was he always that flexible? God) and fucks at a different angle. Probably rubbing Mihashi's prostate directly, if the sound Mihashi makes is any indication. Fucking with short, hard snaps of his hips. Just like Abe likes it when Mihashi's got him on his back, fucking him.
It's not how Mihashi likes it, Abe knows from experience. Can tell from the way Mihashi sucks him with less enthusiasm. Squirms a little like he's trying to get away from the bruising pace Haruna's set.
"Slow down, he doesn't like it like that," Abe says, glaring at his former teammate. "Do it more gently."
Haruna lifts an eyebrow at him. Snaps his hips forward, hard enough that Mihashi chokes on Abe's cock.
"Sorry," he said, "last I checked, you weren't topping this time, Takaya."
"Look, just don't do it like that," Abe says, pulling his cock back as far as he can, Mihashi arching up to keep the head in his mouth, sucking at it in a way that is very quickly distracting Abe from the fight he's trying to have with Haruna. "It's not how he--"
"Yeah, but one-on-one with you wasn't good enough either," Haruna says. He has, at least, slowed down, fucking a bit more like Mihashi likes it. But still. "So shut up and let the guy have what he wants for once."
"You're such a jerk," Abe says.
Haruna laughs. "Whatever," he says. "You know, I think you talk too much. C'mere, do something better with that tongue of yours."
Abe opens his mouth to object. Gets maybe half a word out before Haruna - just as fast as ever, just as strong - gets a hand at the back of his head and pulls, fingers curled in his hair. Drags him over Mihashi's body and kisses him, all teeth. Fucks Abe's mouth just as hard as he's fucking Mihashi's ass. Just as hard as Abe used to fantasize about getting kissed, back when he was young and stupid enough to think that Haruna was still a good choice of idol.
He pulls away from the kiss when Haruna's grip slackens, the older man's attention diverted to the orgasm he's having in Mihashi's ass, pounding Mihashi through it, Mihashi's cock bouncing from the force of it, half-hard against his belly.
"Goddamn," Haruna pants, pulling out. "Wow. He's good."
Abe pulls his cock out of Mihashi's mouth. Reaches down, expecting Mihashi to crawl into his arms. Expecting to have a distraught pitcher to comfort, a jerk pitcher to mutilate.
Instead, he gets Mihashi's half-lidded thoroughly debauched gaze kind of half-focused on him, Mihashi licking his lips, one of his hands shaking a little as he reaches down to take his cock in hand.
"K-kiss him again?" he says, stroking himself. "L-let me watch you?"
Abe frowns at him. Leans down and steals a kiss, trying his hardest to ignore the way Haruna's laughing at them, smug as ever.
"All right," he says, against his pitcher's lips. "Just this once. If that's what you want."
Mihashi nods, hair scrubbing against the sheets. "Just this once," he echoes. "Just this once."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For this drawing by imlikat
Fandom: Naruto ~ Pairing: Sasuke/Kakashi
There are some notable differences, Kakashi decides, between fighting a teenager and fighting a man who's seen more horrors than most could handle.
He's gotten stronger, for one.
Faster.
Heavier.
But perhaps most surprisingly, he's gotten a sense of humor.
Humor.
Who'd've thought?
Not that Kakashi's laughing, not really. Might laugh later, he thinks, but not now. Now, he's just got a smile on his face that's more than a little likely to piss of his former student. Which is fine, because that former student can see his smile, thanks to the useless shreds he's turned Kakashi's mask into, nevermind what he's done to Kakashi's shirt. Sure it's a standard-issue shirt, won't cost Kakashi anything to replace, but still, Kakashi will have to fill out a form explaining what happened to the old shirt, and frankly, the thought of committing "My student got the jump on me and undressed me with a kunai" to paper isn't something Kakashi is looking forward to, especially.
He considers, for half a second, including that the guy with the kunai in his hand at the time of his shirt's demise also had an erection between his legs. Decides, when Sasuke tosses the kunai aside and covers Kakashi's condescending smirk with the kind of kiss that leaves Kakashi breathless and just as erect, that he'll leave that part out.
"And do you know why," Sasuke growls against Kakashi's lips, strong hands holding Kakashi's arms to the ground, his grip forceful enough that Kakashi isn't entirely sure he could break away without a fight, "why I'm going to send you back to the village without your mask?"
Kakashi swallows and shakes his head. Keeps his gaze locked with Sasuke's.
"I will send you back to the village without your mask because I have been waiting," Sasuke says, "since I was thirteen to see what's under that mask." He shifts, rubbing his cock against Kakashi's stomach, his ass against the swell of Kakashi's erection. "Only to find that it's nothing. Nothing."
It's a faint scar where Kakashi had a harelip mended as a baby. Thin, chapped lips he no longer softens with lip balm. A scar on his chin where he fell under a nasty jutsu as a younger man and cut himself when his ANBU mask broke.
"So," Sasuke says. "This is your punishment."
"And the shirt?" Kakashi says.
"Punishment for making me wait."
"Wait?"
"Yes. When we were genin. You were late. Always. For everything."
"I could make it up to you," Kakashi says, rocking his hips just a fraction, just enough to rub himself against his former student's ass - which is firmer than it was the last time he had the opportunity to touch it. Feels good.
Sasuke snorts. Grins down at his captive.
Grins. Doesn't even look all that deranged when he does it, either.
"You can try," Sasuke says. "But I'm not giving you my shirt. You'll have to find your own."
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For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
In the movies - the ones Abe likes to watch, anyway - people say it when the world's about to end. When they've saved the world from ending. When the world's doing its best to end and is taking one of the characters with it.
In the TV shows his mom watches in the afternoon, people say it in bed. In the street. Over the phone. In front of thousands of strangers. Too damn much, as far as Abe's concerned.
In one of the books Abe read for his literature class, the main character said it before killing himself. Which was really kind of cool, actually, cooler because the guy saying it was saying it to his country, not the girl who thought he was saying it to her. His teacher said that's what made the story tragic. Abe disagreed. He thought that made the story tolerable. Enjoyable, even.
Whatever.
Abe's never said it. Never had the need to say it. Doesn't think he's missing anything by not having it said to him.
When Mihashi says it, he's in Abe's bed. He's straddling Abe's body, nude but for his briefs, his skin slightly cool where Abe's got the AC on just a bit too high. Which Abe would fix, were his hands not busy warming his pitcher, too busy to bother with reaching out to pick up the unit's remote and turn the blower down. He says it softly, almost like he's joking. Says it with his eyes closed, more relaxed than he ever is when he's looking Abe in the eye.
From anyone else, that would feel like insincerity. From Mihashi ...
Abe swallows the ridiculous feelings that rise like a lump in his throat at his pitcher's words. Drags his fingertips down Mihashi's spine, just for the little shiver it earns him. Keeps his eyes open when Mihashi leans down and presses their lips together in a kiss.
"You too," he says, when Mihashi sits back up and opens his eyes, all the usual self-doubt and hesitation creeping back into his expression. Says it quick, before Mihashi can wonder if he means it. Which he does. So much. "I love you, too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For this drawing by dranka
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
The snowball fight, Abe decides, is a terrible idea.
Mostly because he's so very not sober, because his friends are no better off than he. Partly because it's cold and he's drunk and really just wants to go home and pass out under the kotatsu with Mihashi until he's gotten over his birthday hangover. And maybe a little - just a smidge - because he's worried about Mihashi getting hurt.
Maybe.
Not like Mihashi's not tough enough to take an injury or two. Not like he hasn't already taken damage, playing ball and coaching his own team and - much to Abe's embarrassment - taking a tumble or two out of bed when Abe got a bit too overzealous that one time.
But still. He's Abe's pitcher, nevermind that he hasn't pitched to Abe in years. And he's Abe's ... friend. With benefits. Lots of benefits. Means Abe's got a responsibility to watch out for the guy. Needs to keep him from getting unnecessarily banged up.
Which means no snowball fights in the middle of the night in a deserted playground with a bunch of drunken idiots from their high school days, means Abe's dodging a sloppy throw from Hanai and glaring in the dim light glaring way too brightly off the snow, god, looking around for Mihashi. Means he's not paying attention to the beer-addled attacks his friends aim at him, doesn't really need to.
Until one connects. Hard. Square in the middle of his back.
Then Abe's just pissed.
He turns around, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow on the way, when his equilibrium tips, sending him into a graceless sideways stumble. He gets his balance (and his handful of snow) and looks up just in time to see his attacker rearing back, a snowball gripped in his hand. Has barely enough time to process the thought that Mihashi - his Mihashi - is getting ready to nail him with a fucking snowball - another fucking snowball - before the damn thing hits him, right in the shoulder. Sends him into a completely undignified sprawl, his ass planted right in the stupid snow.
Tajima's laughter rings out around him, bright and shrill and too goddamn loud, Hanai's voice joining it, saying something about how Mihashi "got him good" even though all Mihashi's going to get is a glare, maybe get his ears boxed. Abe shoots a glare in their direction and works on picking himself up. Almost has his bearings when he hears footsteps, Mihashi crunching through the snow towards him, wearing the biggest smile Abe's ever seen on the guy.
"Are you all right?" Mihashi says, putting a hand - the glove still covered in snow, evidence of his treachery - on Abe's arm, steadying him.
"Fine. No thanks to you." Abe glares at his pitcher. "You do that too well for a guy who's been drinking."
Mihashi blushes - blushes! - and looks away, a hint of his old shy self coming through. "It's just a snowball fight," he says. "Not real pitching."
Abe snorts. Doesn't shake his pitcher off his arm, even when Tajima starts cooing over how cute they are. Puts his hand on top of Mihashi's, just in case Mihashi gets it into his head to let go.
He might catch a cold if he doesn't stay close like he is, might slip in the snow and hurt himself. He has been drinking, after all. Needs someone to look after him, make sure he gets home safely to a hot bath and dry clothes.
Abe's fine with that task. Rather enjoys it, much more than the snowball fight, all the way home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
At first, he thinks Mihashi's just trying to help him undress.
Which is weird, but Mihashi is weird, so he doesn't think much about it. He watches his elbows, careful not to hit his pitcher in the head as he strips off his jersey and undershirt. Tosses his undershirt over to his bag, the thing so sweaty it'll need to be wrapped in a plastic bag before he stuffs it into his duffel. Takes a bit more care with his jersey, in part because it's not as gross as his undershirt, and in part because it's his jersey. It's important.
Mihashi's gotten his uniform pants unbuttoned and worked down his hips when he looks down to see what the guy's up to, tugs on Abe's underwear before Abe has a chance to open his mouth and offer to take off his socks and shoes so his pants'll come off more easily. Gets his mouth wrapped around the head of Abe's cock - half-hard already because the thing apparently doesn't care that they're in the clubhouse at school, still, all it cares about is that Mihashi's nearby and touching Abe, which means Mihashi might touch it - before Abe has a chance to ask him what he thinks he's doing. Uses his tongue to play with Abe's foreskin, licking it and rolling it around and moving it back and forth before Abe's had a chance to tell him that they really shouldn't be messing around in the clubhouse. Feels too good for Abe to want to tell him to stop. Not yet, anyway.
Besides, it's starting to rain and the others left a good ten minutes earlier while Abe was helping Mihashi stretch in the dugout. And anyway, they're not right next to the door, so Abe reasons that he'll have time to turn around and cover himself if someone walks in, make it look like he's accidentally pulled his underwear down along with his pants while changing, or something.
It sounds pretty good in his head, kind of sounds believable. He pulls his jersey on over his head as an afterthought, figures that'll help make things look a little less suspicious if they do get caught.
Mihashi's looking up at him when he bunches the front of his jersey up, keeping it well out of his pitcher's way. All big brown eyes and lips starting to go pink where he's working Abe's foreskin over the head, not quite pushing it back where it belongs because he knows that drives Abe crazy. Has those strong, talented fingers tangled in the fabric of Abe's underwear, just barely brushing against his balls. Keeping Abe close.
As if Abe had anywhere else to be.
He murmurs Mihashi's given name when the sight of Mihashi pulling back and licking the tip of his cock, then pushing the foreskin back using nothing but his tongue is too much, enough to make Abe's cock jerk, leaking precome. He threads his fingers through Mihashi's hair and groans when Mihashi licks up his precome like he's starved for it, pushes his hips forward just a bit when Mihashi whimpers and sucks him in.
Just like something out of a porno. Better than anything in porn. Better than anything he's ever done with Abe before, which hasn't been much but it's all been pretty hot, so ...
Abe's not going to last long, he can tell already. Not that he ever lasts very long when he's with Mihashi, but this time especially, wrung out already from practice and more turned on than he's ever been before, the combination of the risk they're taking and Mihashi's enthusiasm and the fact that Mihashi started it all conspiring to take him down faster than usual.
Mihashi doesn't seem to mind his lack of stamina, anyway. Isn't sucking on him like he wants him to last, either. Sucks harder - sloppier, making so much noise, god - when Abe can't resist thrusting a little, breathing hard.
"I'm close," Abe warns him after what feels like a minute, at best. "Ren, stop, I'm going to come."
He's not expecting Mihashi to actually stop. His insistence that his pitcher not swallow his come has always fallen on deaf ears, before. So when Mihashi pulls off, tensing and turning away, Abe cries out in surprise, too slow to cup a hand over his cock before he starts to come, his semen catching Mihashi in the face, dripping down the guy's hair and cheek and chin onto his jersey, the last few dribbles making a mess of Abe's cock, dripping onto Mihashi's hand.
"Fuck," Abe says (breathes). "I didn't-sorry, let me-"
Mihashi looks up at him. Licks his lips. Leans forward and licks the head of his cock, keeping eye-contact with Abe as he does it, seriously just like something out of a porno.
"I thought I heard someone coming," he says, licking where Abe's foreskin rests, wrinkled under the head, just because he knows Abe's ticklish there. "I would have um. Swallowed it. Otherwise."
Abe's cock jerks. Mihashi looks down at it. Kisses the tip.
Embarrassment and arousal have a brief but furious war in Abe's mind, concern for his pitcher sneaking in at the last minute and winning out over the other two. He reaches down and wrestles his pants out of Mihashi's grip, gets himself covered. Digs in his bag for a towel. Kneels on the cold cement floor to clean up the mess he made.
"That was good," he says, once Mihashi's no longer dripping, though he's sticky enough he'll need a bath.
He's still rock-hard, too, which means-
Abe casts a quick glance at the door. It's not locked, but the chances anyone'll come back are so slim, and his pitcher's so hard, might hurt himself - his pitching wrist - if he sneaks off to relieve himself and does it too fast, too rough. Too something.
That's what Abe tells himself, anyway, as he drops his hands to Mihashi's belt and pulls, hushing Mihashi's stuttered protests with little more than a look and a kiss, no more protests coming when he leans down and covers Mihashi's cock with his mouth, returning the pleasure he felt as best he can.
Only, he thinks, unlike his pitcher, he'll swallow. Wouldn't do to be messy if someone decides to walk in, after all.
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For this drawing by ondoibili
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
Had Yamashita of Tokyo's Josei Seven succeeded, it would've been a great photo.
Two guys alone together in an empty locker room, kissing, would've been enough to get him maybe a quarter of a page somewhere in the middle of the September issue. Two guys alone together in an empty locker room, kissing, with one guy wearing nothing but his undershirt and a pair of boxers might've gotten him half a page.
But a photo of two guys, one of whom plays ball professionally for one of the year's top Japanese teams, alone together in the team locker room, kissing and groping each other?
Front-page full-color set-for-life gold, that. Yamashita's heart was absolutely pounding as he focused in for that shot, his boss's praise already echoing in his ears.
Only Japanese readers are a tricky bunch - suspicious and skeptical of everything, especially in the sort of magazine that hired Yamashita in the first place. So Yamashita - being the wily, intelligent fellow that he is, decided to go for the proof first, then the overall effect second. Make sure he didn't end up with a priceless photo rejected by the internet - his nemesis - as forged. Photoshopped.
Fake.
He got a shot of the other guy - not the team's consulting physician, but a doctor of some kind, he's pretty sure - first, a good shot that showed not only the guy's class ring (from a medical school in Nagoya) but the ridges of the erection he was palming as well. Angled his camera up a bit and got a good shot of the team's name silk-screened across the pitcher's shirt, still readable even with the shirt twisted and folded in on itself. Got a third picture of them kissing - well, kind of. Leaning in for a kiss. An artistic shot, not the kind of thing Yamashita usually goes for and certainly not the kind of thing that will make him any money, not as zoomed in as it is (he's not sure anyone would be able to really tell it's Mihashi Ren in the photo, nevermind the gender of the lips brushing close for a kiss) but whatever, maybe a good teaser for the cover. Not like digital cameras waste valuable film, anyway.
He'd zoomed out for the money shot - a full-body shot of the two guys goin' at it, hell yes - when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Had the camera focused when his ears pricked, alerted to an almost-not-there sound behind him. Had his finger on the stupid button to get the stupid shot when a hand came down on his shoulder, heavy enough that he couldn't very well ignore it.
Which was probably a good thing, considering the size of the man looming over him, glaring at him like he'd pissed on the emperor or something. Ignoring that kind of individual hadn't ended well for Yamashita in the past. Ended with him in the hospital, actually. Footing the bill for a new camera to replace the one the man he'd ignored smashed into a million pieces before doing the same to Yamashita's face.
His face, at least, was spared a beating this time. His camera, too. But the memory stick - full of all kinds of pictures he'd taken of the crowd during the game, stuff he's kind of pretty sure would've gotten him blackmail money, if not a quarter page towards the back of Josei Seven - disappeared into pocket of the guy still too big for Yamashita to fight. Disappeared with the man himself, leaving Yamashita with an empty camera and the kind of disappointment only cheap beer helps to dispel.
~*~*~*~
It's two years before he sees his photos again.
Well. One of them. The one he liked the least, even, but it's unmistakably his photo, crisp and clear and shot in full, beautiful color, framed in a wooden frame and sitting on the desk of the now-retired baseball star he's gotten the honor of interviewing through the friend-of-a-friend. He works for a respectable paper now, nothing like what he used to do. Knows he shouldn't mention the picture but -
"Oh, that?" Mihashi says, reaching back and picking up the frame, rubbing his thumb affectionately over the glass. "I don't know who took the picture, but it's from two years ago, when we won the national championships. We changed to sleeved undershirts after that year, so you can tell that's when it was taken."
"Where did the photo come from?" Yamashita asks. His voice sounds calm, he's pretty sure. Mostly.
"One of my former classmates from high school gave it to me," Mihashi says. "Wouldn't say where he got the photo. He said he'd let me figure it out, but I never have."
Yamashita's pretty sure he'd be killed if he helped clear up that particular mystery. He clears his throat instead. "I see," he says. "Well. It's a very nice picture."
"Mmm," Mihashi says. He strokes his thumb over the photo once more, right over the lips of the man he was with, that day. Smiles. "It's always been one of my favorites."
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For this drawing by fujiwaranoseimei
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte ~ Pairing: Mihashi/Abe
It's certainly different from doing it to himself. More awkward, lying there with his ass in the air, his face buried in Mihashi's pillow. Kind of embarrassing, feeling someone else's fingers pushing inside him, especially there. Especially since Mihashi is being so ridiculously careful with him, using enough lube to drown a small village, his free hand petting Abe's hip, as though being teased to the point of dripping on the bedsheets were something Abe needs to be soothed over.
He's just about to the point of lifting his face to growl at Mihashi to hurry the fuck up already when Mihashi shifts, the bed creaking a little as Mihashi moves to straddle Abe, his cock pressed so temptingly against Abe's back, exactly where it can't do Abe any good, angled exactly backwards from how Abe would rather it be, somewhere he could manage to get it up inside him where he wants it. Fucking him, nice and deep.
He lifts his face to tell Mihashi that (kind of) when Mihashi leans forward. Abe feels his complaints catch in his throat, his mind racing as he feels Mihashi's breath, warm where the lubricant's cool on his skin, washing over him half a second before Mihashi's lips touch him. Kissing him. Right where Mihashi's fingers have just been.
It's ... good. Beyond good when Mihashi pulls away from the kiss and licks his lips, leans back in immediately and kisses Abe again, this time with his tongue, slipping just the tip inside Abe's body, wiggling and pushing where Abe is most sensitive, his body clenching spastically in response.
"R-Ren," he gasps, clawing at the sheets. "That's -- that's really good."
Over him, Mihashi shivers. Rocks his hips, rubbing himself against Abe's back as he dips his tongue in deeper, his fingers pulling and squeezing, keeping Abe spread open. Exposed.
It's simply too much.
Abe gulps at the air, feeling his body spiraling way too fast towards orgasm, faster than he's gone since he was a teenager masturbating to the first pictures of naked men he'd managed to get his hands on. Not that he cares. He's got a man French kissing his asshole, rubbing wantonly -- nakedly! -- against him. Moaning softly like Abe's the best thing he's ever felt, ever tasted. Leaking enough against Abe's skin to slick his strokes, more aroused and sloppy than Abe's ever felt him before.
He comes hands-free for the first time in his life when Mihashi thrusts forward, hard, and shoves his tongue in deep, moaning like he's the one shattering into a million pieces, leaving a wet spot on the sheets. Is the one coming, maybe thirty seconds later, his come splattering across Abe's ass and lower back, but Abe doesn't care, doesn't care, not when his body's clenching with the aftershocks of getting tongue-fucked to orgasm, Mihashi's lips pressing against his cheeks in sweet, almost innocent little kisses. Mihashi's hands smoothing over him, cleaning him up. Mihashi's voice shaking a little, full of concern when he asks if what he did was all right.
"I wanted to t-try something new," he says when Abe rolls over and says god yes, it was more than okay, then demands to know where on earth Mihashi got the idea for that. "And you looked so g-good, I thought ..."
Abe reaches for him. Pulls him close and kisses him, uncaring where the tongue he's coaxing into his mouth has just been. He's feeling boneless and completely satisfied. Pretty sure he'll be wanting an encore as soon as his body's stopped being completely done with sex, his cock ready to get some direct attention.
"That was incredible, Ren," he says, nuzzling the shell of Mihashi's ear. Grins against his lover's neck. "Want me to do it to you next time? Show you how good it is?"
He feels a shiver course through Mihashi's body where it's pressed against his. Hears Mihashi swallow.
"Y-yeah. In a bit."
Abe's cock twitches. "All right," he says, his heart beating a bit faster in anticipation. "In a bit."
Note: This was originally the last chapter of Over the Hills and Far Away. Didn't really fit with the rest of the arc, though, so I rewrote the chapter. I think the new chapter is much better, eh?