We are not afraid; let the night come
Who: Hisashi Shimazu & Tetora Nishizono
Where: Shimazu's place
When: Crazy-backdating to October 4th
Summary: Hell if I know.
Rating: AS HIGH as it should need to go.
( And it's like shitty Chinese take-out food, this thing. )
Where: Shimazu's place
When: Crazy-backdating to October 4th
Summary: Hell if I know.
Rating: AS HIGH as it should need to go.
( And it's like shitty Chinese take-out food, this thing. )
And. There it was. That smirk Shimazu was semi-familiar with. The smirk that told Shimazu that he was going to lose another molar today and ah -- there it went. Tetora changing his position so he was not having this guy semi-ride him. Such a fucking tease, just leaning in and not taking the whole thing. Hahaha. What a fucking pussy.
"You are so testy Tecchan." Shimazu murmured with a high-pitched whistle, "Lots of diseased sluts are called Lucy, why are you so special, hmm?" And it was then that his smile spread the width of his visage, contrasting to the almost-friendly wink that he preformed. Then, as soon as he reopened his eye, he felt his nerves being twisted as a shockwave of a slamming fist collided with his jaw. It cracked, went slack for a moment and tore his lip. Blood pooled in his mouth and seeped through the crack of the corner of his mouth as his body responded with falling flat on his back.
His hand reached up, rubbed his cheek, a pained moan and a light cracking of the movements of his jaw as he spoke, "Aah. That hurt -- " His figure rolled into a sitting position and in a instant he was on his knees. One hand grasping at Tetora’s shirt and he ungracefully threw a clumsy punch at the back of Tetora’s skull as his other hand slipped into his pocket to pull out a tape recorder.
Reply
He landed face-first on Shimazu's shoulder, his teeth clacking together and making him see stars for a good second or two, and even then he was scrabbling to get back up, hands shoving at Shimazu's chest, against the couch, anything so he can grab that bottle he'd set down and whack the night away with it to the guy's nose. Like in those movies, bottle bottom to face until it caved it.
His blood was roaring in his ears. Tetora had to laugh a little.
"The fuck are you doing?"
He'll even ignore the "slut" jab; I mean, who was the fag here, anyway?
Reply
He took a moment to watch Tetora elegantly split his way along the floor and laughed. Softly. But laughed anyway with his thumb on the press play button. But all that shit of starting a real life movie was all but interrupted as he felt the other’s face on his shoulder, teeth grazing along the material of his jacket. It didn’t help Shimazu. Not really. Not when he was fucking slugged along the jaw and still feeling the aftereffects of his brains swirling around his skull.
Of course, Shimazu himself was a touchy-feely guys. So all these hands and fingers going everywhere were no problem for him. It was until he noticed that Tetora was aiming to reach for the bottle that was settled on the ground that he started to motion his legs to get Tetora off him.
Which actually eventually end up having both of them sinking down in the couch.
Then slipping off the couch. With Tetora in Shimazu’s lap and Shimazu’s ass on the floor.
Then. He pressed play with a flourishing victorious gesture that matched his shit-eating smirk.
Reply
And then the music started playing.
At first he was a little confused at it - what the hell, did Shimazu need a soundtrack for getting beat up? - but then the sea-sick wash of guitars kicked in, and the warbling high-note voice creeped on over the melody and shit--
It started at the chest. It started with a constricting feeling that crept from just above his diaphragm and spread over his lungs, over his heart, and closed his throat up. It was never this bad with other sorts of music. It was only somewhat like this with pop music, when it's a tiny girl warbling like a computer program on static.
It was never this pronounced.
"What the shit?" Was all he said as his eyes widened, and his mouth went slack and for all it was worth it looked like he was either gonna have a seizure right then and there, or he was pissing himself. Both of which felt adequate - right before the loud, painful white crashed through his nerves.
What the fuck is this? He wanted to yell, but instead he dug his fingers deeper into skin - didn't matter whose, didn't matter at all - until he felt the nails cutting in deeper, biting crisply into fleshy meat or scratching unyielding cloth and fuck-
[Hey, Tetora, did you just get hard?]
"You FUCK," he breathed, whether to the voice in his head or to Shimazu he wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was getting really fucking loud inside him, like a hundred voices starting to scream, one by one, until it felt like his ears would explode into his brain and crack his skull, letting out a thousand fingers crawling out like bloody spiders all over his leather clothes.
It felt like a really bad LSD trip gone bad; with an odd gentleness, Tetora shaped the words in his head, breathed them out as his his heart rattled in his ribs. A whole list of names was scrolling past his mind, each name with a lifetime and a hundred different memories.
[You're tripping really badly, you got that right.]
"Holyyy shiiiiiiit..." he dragged out of his mouth, fingers tingling. "I think I could kill you."
Reply
Shimazu didn’t bother listening to the muttering from above him, but hell Shimazu felt like throwing up any moment, feeling his skull in the same sensation as though his brain was expanding and ready to pop like a new-born sack of shit.
He kicked and squirmed when he felt the nails biting into his skin and clothing, mumbling unintelligently with a -- a -- was that a fucking moan? "T--Tecchan you’ve got your screws loose. I. I thought so..." The throbbing pain in his head increased as though a drill was going right through his brain with no connection and with a deep heaving of his chest, Shimazu removed himself from underneath Tetora.
But.
All that.
Fucking movement. All the squirming, all his attempts to pull away from Tetora ( -- Who he knew would sooner or later turn into a fucking human chainsaw -- ) and clutch at his skull, the tape recorder falling from his hand and he crawled limply on the couch, fingers gripping at the edges as the swelling in his brain continued before moving his head over the creaking leather whilst kneeling and felt his afternoon lunch boil in his throat before emptying all over the floor like avant-guard bloody picasso.
Bringing the sleeve of his jacket to his mouth to wipe off the excess fluid, Shimazu turned back around to Tetora, giving off a croaking noise before speaking breathlessly, "See. See! You. You’re a complete psycho!"
Reply
He didn't hear anything, and he didn't care to hear, and he certainly didn't mind it. Tetora watched the vomit fly in slow motion, watched the sour-smelling fluid arc gracefully in the air before splattering all over the floor.
It was the wrong color. It was the wrong smell. It should be copperish red, he was thinking, Tetora was thinking and he reached into the back of his mind for that certain sound, that certain thing that shut everything out and made him feel really good about himself.
Then he began to laugh.
He had the vague idea that Shimazu was hard beneath him (if he was to judge that turgid lump that was half-pressed up against the back of his thigh), and that there was a crazed look oh the other's face, like watching a light show while high. He watched Shimazu's mouth work out the syllables of some word or other, read the sentence of his mouth.
Then he stuck three of his fingers into that mouth - what are you doing? - smiling all the time. Something was winding up in him.
[Name starts with an S, kid. Shit if I died because of you and you can't even pull this off right.]
"You oughta shut up more, Shimazu," Tetora said, as he leaned over, his pupils dilated, his blood hot on his nerves. "You're less annoying when you're quiet."
Then he pushed the digits in deeper.
Reply
Even if it was so very familiar ( -- He swore that it almost sounded like his, and there, and right then it bolted him to the spot) It was wrong for Shimazu to think he was scared, but his hand went to his pants either way to check to see if he pissed himself.
But instead he was just touching himself like some goddamn pervert.
His head was forcefully jolted back as he felt the slender appendages make their way into his mouth, shoving the back of his head back against the cushiony furniture. Though it could have been defined as rather sick, the way that Shimazu ran his gooey liquidly thick-fluid tongue around the fingers and tasting the lingering flavor of carrots ( -- Why was it always FUCKING carrots?) before he sunk back into the couch as the fingers passed his gag reflex and jolting a surge of tension through him.
Then, he smiled as he let out a choking sound before biting down on the fingers. Hard enough to threaten breaking bones as he moved his jaw in a gnawing motion so his molars clamped around the knuckles, and the sole of his shoe planted against Tetora's abdomen.
Reply
"You kick me off you and I promise you, you're never gonna get off," Tetora sneered, "ever."
He let fingers rub down against tongue, sick in how it massaged the appendage like it was something more tender, and Tetora hitched up closer, tipped his head back to crack stiff joints on his neck with a sharp cracking sound. Rolled his shoulders, like it was some shiver-spin he was throwing out of his body.
"You're probably older than me, right?" Tetora began, as he gripped Shimazu's ankle tightly. "So you're probably more... haha, learned in shit like this more than me, right? So how about you play nice and treat your guest properly, share some fuckin' knowledge, come on."
Tetora run the tip of his tongue over his canines. He can still reach for the spoon handle. He can still jab at that eye, pull it out and put it in formaldehyde, pickle it in a jar and use it as a lamp light. But no, not yet.
Not yet.
"Your house, Shimazu. What you wanna do?"
Reply
And when he spoke, he could only miss out most of the words, "Uhnn? O--eah -- ?" And even though half of the fucking words were missing, it was pretty easy to process that he was only mocking the other with bent and twisted vocals. The foot that was planted against Tetora’s abdomen was removed just as he heard that pleasing little noise of popping air escaping from joints.
A quirked eyebrow and -- ahhh -- he knew what Tetora was talking about. So. Tecchan wanted to do that? And with each thought that went through Shimazu his mind, the more his clasped teeth loosened their pressure.
The slipperiness of his tongue ran over the fingers once more until he fully opened his mouth, leaned back and allowed Tetora to remove his fingers. If he wanted too. The foreplay was rather nice, indicated by the way that Shimazu’s hand was still fiddling inconspicuously with the cloth that covered his semi-hard cock. He sharply inhaled, puffed his cheeks, let out a low hum and tossed his head back against the couch, pursing his lips, "Aaa-ah, is Colonel-chan a little scared of losing his fingers -- ?"
Reply
Just like that, things had changed. A little, only maybe with the atmosphere, but something did change and ahaha hahahahaha what's going on now?
Bet you can guess, little Tettchan.
He noticed, yeah; that not-so-subtle hand was not really very subtle at all, and it amused Tetora to hell and back. He was right, in a way. He got things right the first time. "You fag."
But that makes two of us, I'm sure, he thinks. That makes two of us all fucking nuts in here, in this shit-smelling place that reeks of a thousand stale roadkill.
So he hitched up closer, nudged at that throat a little deeper as he not-so-quietly rocked against the other, all obscene and uncoordinated and young.
"Want me on you, hey? We got time."
Reply
His tongue whirled in his mouth at the faggot comment which ended with a slight pop of his mouth. He didn’t say anything to it though, it would be like fueling to the fire but it was just like the whole pots and kettles and all that shit, but now they were going to fuck. Wow, what a surprise.
The scent of rot was still intoxicating and the more it filled his senses, the more fucking hard he got. The tape playing in the background was like the start of a bad porno movie, but the creaking and moaning of the couch brought him back, so did the nudging at his throat.
"Haaa, you want to fuck so badly. Don’t you Tecchan?" Was the slow coo as his other hand entwined with the material of Tetora’s shirtfront, yanking him closer. If Shimazu had a boyfriend, he wouldn’t do this at all -- oh, hahaha, oh wait a second he did. But that didn’t stop him from his tongue emerging from his mouth as he forcefully got Tetora to straddle him and letting the fleshy pink muscle slide along Tetora’s neck.
Reply
Leave a comment