[SP] Questions (Yonekuni/Shiro, R)
Title: Questions
Day/Theme: 2nd August, "a school of morality."
Series: Sex Pistols
Character/Pairing: Yonekuni/Shiro
Rating: R
Shiro sucked cock like a virgin, twin slashes of red across his cheeks and wet choking sounds that made Yonekuni burn to take him. Yonekuni made do with twining Shiro's hair around the fingers of one hand and pulling hard, cupping the soft nape of Shiro's neck with his other hand.
"Deeper." He squeezed the fragile throat lightly, ignoring the instinctive flinch and feeling like a goddamned emperor. So they hadn't done this before. Maybe. "Yeah. Like. That."
The afternoon sun spread pools of light over the classroom floor; they turned chalk dust, carelessly swept, into gold. The tips of Shiro's hair were brown-red in the sun -- he remembered it silver, and night-black on freshly-laundered sheets, but not like this.
He wouldn't have seen it back when he wasn't himself, would he? He only came to Shiro then when it rained; when it was gray and there was nothing to tell him that Shiro would say yes to a blowjob in their classroom.
But there was no surety. He wouldn't have remembered that Shiro's mouth was almost better than fucking him, or remembered that he could bend Shiro over a desk and break him repeatedly. If he wanted to, in deliberation or madness, not knowing then that Shiro would love him as he snapped bone and tendon apart.
Yonekuni didn't want to ask, each time: is this the first, the second, the thousandth? It shouldn't have goddamned counted if he couldn't remember, but it fucking did. And the only thing more frustrating than being jealous of yourself was the dim echo of familiarity in the salt of Shiro's sweat, just outside the reach of his traitorous mind.
He pushed, instead. Made Shiro spread his legs against the graffitti-smeared walls in the boys' toilet, kissed him in the dusty enclosure of a forgotten storeroom, fucked Shiro with his fingers until Shiro came in his lap -- all the things Yonekuni thought they couldn't have done.
He still wouldn't know, of course, but he thought the shame in Shiro's eyes was louder than any answer. He only hoped it wasn't because Shiro never said no.
Day/Theme: 2nd August, "a school of morality."
Series: Sex Pistols
Character/Pairing: Yonekuni/Shiro
Rating: R
Shiro sucked cock like a virgin, twin slashes of red across his cheeks and wet choking sounds that made Yonekuni burn to take him. Yonekuni made do with twining Shiro's hair around the fingers of one hand and pulling hard, cupping the soft nape of Shiro's neck with his other hand.
"Deeper." He squeezed the fragile throat lightly, ignoring the instinctive flinch and feeling like a goddamned emperor. So they hadn't done this before. Maybe. "Yeah. Like. That."
The afternoon sun spread pools of light over the classroom floor; they turned chalk dust, carelessly swept, into gold. The tips of Shiro's hair were brown-red in the sun -- he remembered it silver, and night-black on freshly-laundered sheets, but not like this.
He wouldn't have seen it back when he wasn't himself, would he? He only came to Shiro then when it rained; when it was gray and there was nothing to tell him that Shiro would say yes to a blowjob in their classroom.
But there was no surety. He wouldn't have remembered that Shiro's mouth was almost better than fucking him, or remembered that he could bend Shiro over a desk and break him repeatedly. If he wanted to, in deliberation or madness, not knowing then that Shiro would love him as he snapped bone and tendon apart.
Yonekuni didn't want to ask, each time: is this the first, the second, the thousandth? It shouldn't have goddamned counted if he couldn't remember, but it fucking did. And the only thing more frustrating than being jealous of yourself was the dim echo of familiarity in the salt of Shiro's sweat, just outside the reach of his traitorous mind.
He pushed, instead. Made Shiro spread his legs against the graffitti-smeared walls in the boys' toilet, kissed him in the dusty enclosure of a forgotten storeroom, fucked Shiro with his fingers until Shiro came in his lap -- all the things Yonekuni thought they couldn't have done.
He still wouldn't know, of course, but he thought the shame in Shiro's eyes was louder than any answer. He only hoped it wasn't because Shiro never said no.