Rivaille rubbed his hands silkily over his body, moaning at the feeling of wet fingers touching himself. He slipped a few slippery fingers lower, relishing the feeling of hand sanitizer wiping his body clean. He needed to be clean. Lately he's been so dirty.
The hand sanitizer left a burning arc across his skin, digging deep within his pores. Rivaille moaned, the feeling cutting down his body and into his soul.
His hands curled against himself, his breath harshening against the cold, metal room. The floor warmed against his back, the friction leaving him breathless. He stretched his back against it, arcing and rubbing, panting at the feeling of something wet with purell touching him.
The room was so perfectly clean, and here was tainting it. His hands tightened, and his thrusts became faster. Rivaille's own sweat pooled over, and he forced himself to a stop.
Rivaille removed his hand, his body clammy at the suddenly painful relief of jerking. His hands gripped the floor, clawing at the bottle that would make everything better. He unscrewed the cap, leaning back against the floor as the edge tipped over and cold, gelatinous liquid sloshed against his skin.
Rivaille shuddered at the rush of stinging pain and the knowledge that he was cleaning himself, removing every putrid substance from his skin. He felt his body unconsciously arch forward, rubbing the substance across his skin. It tingled as he swirled it around his nipples, pinching and enveloping every part of him.
To be clean, he had to touch everything thoroughly.
Rivaille felt his body tingling with cleanliness and pleasure, his blood pumping quickly until he could hardly see. His body burned, begging to release.
Rivaille paused. He had to clean every orifice as well, right? His hands slinked lower, one hand tightening against himself and the other slipping between his thighs, between his body, until suddenly, between…
Rivaille gasped, his finger stroking the entrance. Hand sanitizer dripped from his fingers slowly, leaking into himself as he began to explore.
He settle into a rhythm, stroking and pumping, thrusting and pulling against his body.
Sensations tingled against his body, pain and pleasure, torment and ecstasy. Rivaille's finger thrust at an angle, and suddenly the sensations ran rampant within Rivaille, tearing through him and causing him to moan loudly in pure pleasure.
His fingers pulled back and thrust again, his hands pumping in unison. His moans became louder and more desperate, letting himself go and touching himself with the strength of a hundred men, precise and strong. His body rolled and Rivaille's mind pulled against his thoughts, losing himself to the feeling of bliss. Rivaille let out a cry, lost in his rapture as hot liquid sloshed against the floor, his body burning in passion.
His pants slowed to a stop, his body stilling and fingers withdrawing. Rivaille's head lolled against the floor, his body thrumming with cleanliness.
Finally. He was completely clean.
Rivaille's body felt heavy, weighted with his most recent system of purity.
One last thing, Rivaille thought before he allowed himself to sleep.
His body was warm and slick, and he sat up eying the white slash he had created, startling against the silver room.
Rivaille grinned and licked his lips, knowing all to well that as soon as he swallowed, he would have to cleanse himself again.
An endless cycle.
But Rivaille had plenty of sanitizers.