The Day After

taste

Half light filtered slowly through his eyes lids. The oddly delicious smell of salty flesh filled his nose. He was warm, wonderfully warm, and he felt something heavy, hard and hot wrapped around him. For a second, he snuggled into it, before he realized something wasn't right. He cracked his eyes open, seeing a ceiling that wasn't his. He turned sharply, and winced, regretting the sudden movement as his head lit on fire and his sight swirled dangerously. Had he been standing, he would have fallen right over.

Slowly, he turned again, and found a sleeping face beside his. And though even he could admit the face was pretty in a girlish way, he knew for a fact the body beside his was male. He shivered. He'd made a big mistake.

He tried sitting up. But as soon as he moved, the pale arms around him tightened, and lithe legs wrapped around his. He attempted prying the arms from around his shoulders, and was only pulled deeper into the sensual embrace. And... ooh.. He smelled nice. Really good. Dark and spicy, like a forest during the summer. Or cinnamon. He licked his chapped lips, letting his eyes slip shut as he was engulfed by that scent.

Just the smell of this man made him want to stay in this tender position.

As he lay there, tantalizing glimpses of the night before flitted through his mind, and he was just barely able to fit together the entire story. He partially remembered getting horribly smashed, a hand taking his, breathing deeply as he left the stifling club for crisp winter air.

Lips against his. A hand wandered along his lower back, forcibly grabbing his ass, pulling him closer. Oh yes, closer, closer. He could never get close enough. He whined, wanting to be out of his clothes, wanting to feel this man's hot flesh against his. Wanting to taste.

His breath hitched at the memory. That was... frighteningly impassioned. He bit his lip. Had he really moaned like a cat in heat under the man that was currently holding him captive? He dreaded to think he'd been so desperate, so shameful, so... turned on.

Why was he even still laying here?

Taste.

His tongue ran along a pale neck, and he growled in appreciation at the quiet gasp. A hand slipped down his body, making him shiver. He grabbed his torturer's shoulders, raising his hips to rub against the thigh conveniently placed between his legs, letting out a long pleasured moan.

Soft lips trailed kisses along his jaw, sharply nipping the lobe of his ear. "Beg." a sultry voice ordered, and he was given a smug smirk.

Beg.

He heard a soft grunt in his ear, and glanced up, finding amused gold eyes boring into his own. "Didn' know ya were a snuggler." the man lightly joked. And he couldn't help but blush, frowning. He heard a hushed chuckle.

Now that they both were awake, he once again tried to move off the bed. The pale arms would not budge. "Do you mind letting me go?" he spat harshly. Gold eyes regarded him dubiously.

"'course!" but still he could not move, he struggled to do so. He sent a burning glare, and the man looked like he was fighting hard to keep his face strait. "I said I'd mind. I'm no' gonna let ya go. Yer a snuggler, sa let's snuggle." by the end of his statement, he was grinning out right.

He let out an angry sigh, but stayed where he was for a moment. He was oddly comfortable. He felt good laying here. In fact, he almost dreaded the moment he'd have to drag himself from this warm bed and face the harsh cold of a winter morning. He was sleepy. Indeed, he wanted to stay here and snuggle.

He felt lips against his forehead. "What's that about?!" he demanded. Though the lips were soft, and warm, and he longed to have another taste of them, since he couldn't exactly remember the night previous. Probably just as spicy as his scent.

"Nothin'. Yer jus' cute. Ichigo." strange that this stranger knew his name when he knew nothing. It was irksome.

But why did he even care? He shouldn't have even met this man in the first place. But he'd spent the night with him. Had kissed him. Touched him. Tasted him. Begged for him. It was almost too horrible to think about. And even right now, he wanted more. He wanted to hold the man in his arms right now. He wanted to see his pleasured face, feel him inside...

"We should date each other." those five words floated heavily in the air.

"What?" he gasped. "Never! No way!" he received a smirk. And suddenly the man was on top of him, smirking down on him, his eyes glinting maliciously. His inner cat in heat purred happily. If things went well, his inner prude wouldn't interrupt and he'd be screaming under that hot body once more.

"Should I refresh yer memory o' las' night?" he leaned down, close to his ear, licking the shell, making him shiver. His voice dropped to a firm lustful whisper. It almost made him want to obey. "Cause ya couldn' get me close 'nough then."

He scowled. He already knew that. In fact, even perfectly sober, he still wanted this man against him. He threw him off, sitting up angrily, which he regretted doing as much as he regretted moving. Pain flew up his spine and tail bone, and he couldn't help but let out a pained gasp. He ignored his 'lover's' look of concern. He got up, walking awkwardly, finding his clothes in the corner.

He could see a smirking expression from the corner of his eye. "It's Shiro." his one night lover whispered. "My name is Shiro."

He pulled on his boxers, his jeans. And felt strong arms wrap around his waist. "Get off." there was no answer, just lips along the back of his neck. He nearly melted. Just the thought of going out into the frost bitten air made him sink into Shiro's arms.

"Can't ya stay a lil' longer?" Shiro mumbled, nuzzling his hair. He sighed, almost believing he were still drunk. He turned, claiming soft pale lips as his own. Shiro was oddly sweet.

"We can date. Not fuck."

Odd what things turn into, the day after when clouds of lust and confusion had been cleared away.

OWARI

proud. Heh heh. Reivew please. I tried to keep it consitant and descriptive all the way through. Did I succeed?