Looks down.

I...I did it O.O

I WROTE A LEMON- !!

-thing.

Let's not get techincal...

Very first lemony solo thingy mah-jigger, so be nice in reviews and offer thoughts/advice for improvement (cannot stress enough- PLEASE).

-hugs protectively- I'll defend it to the last, even if I do look back later and realize how much it sucks.

Hope you like it though : )

-Oceans


Hisoka's body burned. His chest heaved with his breath, the puffs of air from his open mouth hot, and heavy and almost tangible. Desperate, whining noises gaining in pitch leaked through his gritted teeth as he resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to touch himself.

His partner's face choked his thoughts. No matter what he tried it wouldn't go away. His treacherous brain fed him images of Tsuzuki's hands, so much larger than his own, trailing fingertips over his stomach, teasing him, running along the waistband of his jeans, occasionally dipping beneath to pinch heated skin.

Hisoka thrust his hips up, alone in the dark.

But the inside of his skull was deliciously hot and cramped, dripping with sweat and moist trails from lapping tongues and bites and scratches, scraps, clothing falling soundlessly to the ground...

His green eyes shot open as his torso lurched up from the bed.

This really wasn't the time for this. Hisoka was in a trailer on the outskirts of town, waiting for a delivery scheduled to come the next day.

It was dark. The lights were off, except for the flickering glow of a muted television from underneath the closed door at the far end. Such a door barred him from the focus of his fantasies. The reason for his heated body.

He had been taught that touching himself, even if only to finish a job that puberty had started, was shameful and disgusting. The lesson had been mercilessly beaten into him with his father's open hand the very first time he had done it. It hadn't been so hard to wave away the desire, but then, he'd been dying for three puberty prime time years of his sadly short life.

Kurosaki Hisoka did not even remember that night so long ago. But it still made him hesitate as his fingers stretched into his pants.

But not so much as the idea that Asato Tsuzuki was only one very flimsy door and one passionate scream away.

His aching body made the decision for him. With a silent moan, he wrapped his fingers around himself, his wrist moving on instinct alone.

It was hard to juggle the three. Batting off images of the purple-eyed idiot, finishing the job, and restraining the noises that clawed and clogged his throat.

He was bound to drop at least one ball.

...But maybe he could have gone without losing two.

With a snap of his teeth, a wince of defeat, the Tsuzuki-dam split. Hisoka bit hard into his lip as the thoughts made every touch and stroke feel so much better than only a second ago.

He hissed, and gasped, and whined, every noise louder than the last, he forgot to check his volume as it got closer and closer...

Hisoka didn't hear the very flimsy door open and the padding, sleepy slow footsteps as he loosed his passionate scream and a tag-along.

"T-Tsuzuki-! I...-!!"

His spine arched hard, the back of his head lifted off the bed, and his hand was wet. He fell back, a sigh of cooling air passing through his, still open, but slowly closing, mouth, a smile taking root. And growing. Not even thinking, his mind too full of fuzzy colors and thoughts of sleep, how soft his bed suddenly was, he brought a sticky finger to his lips and sucked the tip in.

A, no doubt, blushing man was closing his very flimsy door when the other half of the boy's sentence leaked out. So soft it was all but inaudible.

"...love you..."