So the first one up is actually not the first one we did. The pairing is Sengoku and Mizuki-how the pairing came about still escapes me XD
In any case, I think it came out pretty well (I still chuckle over how she writes Mizuki, really.)
We both apologize for any OOC-ness with all our hearts and a half. (Wouldn't that make three hearts? Hmm.)
The paragraphs and such in bold are the ones that Kirby did, I wrote the ones that aren't in bold.
Yamabuki had some good players, he mused, particularly the "devil" that had quit and the basketball-player-bodied redhead he had his eyes on that afternoon. He twirled a lock of hair with a gentle smirk as he watched his play.
Sengoku swept his opponent in straight games. With his signature "Lucky!" at the end of the match, he clasped hands with the sempai and shook. Separating, he went to his bag and happened to glance up to the right. Mizuki of St. Rudolph was staring at him with the barest hint of a smirk on his face.
"Ah, Sengoku, right?" he greeted warmly. "If I may have a word with you? I'm a big fan, you see." His voice was coaxing and not at all demanding. He ignored the other nobodies noticing him and wondering what he was doing. Mizuki took a few steps forward and held his hand out. (Good God was this boy sweaty and all kinds of sexy. And quite the muscular young lad too! He could already feel the muscles on Sengoku's abdomen, just screaming to be touched and licked.)
The redhead mopped the sweat from his brow and shook hands. While he severely doubted that Mizuki was a fan, he couldn't very well turn him away, could he? "Sure, what did you want?" he asked politely. He wondered if the boy had been gathering information on him.
"Are you finished with practice? Please, walk with me," Mizuki asked, turning on his heel and moving forward a tiny bit. He looked so professional in his school uniform. "You play extraordinarily well, Sengoku-kun, if I do say so myself. If I may also say, it would be a thrill if you joined St. Rudolph and lent us your incredible talent." Mizuki smiled over at the redhead.
"Thank you, but no," Sengoku said, smiling. "I will, however, walk with you, if you had something further to say. I could use a cooldown anyhow." He ducked into the locker rooms, changed quickly, and reappeared out of the door. "Which way?" he asked of the raven-haired boy.
Mizuki had barely stolen a glimpse of Sengoku's bare chest when he dressed out—but it was okay. The Yamabuki's school uniform was even easier to slip off with that zipper. "That's a shame," he sighed, "but perhaps I could schedule a match with you someday next week? We can go to my house and sort out the details, if that sounds alright with you."
Oh yes. He was feeling very kinky now.
"I'm free for Thursday; no practice. Is that good?" Sengoku scratched his head. Mizuki had a certain charm to him, he decided, with that silky-looking black hair and calculating eyes. He wondered briefly what that hair felt like before he caught himself. The slightest tinge of pink rose in his cheeks when he realized what he'd been doing.
Oh no. It is not going to be that short and sweet. Mizuki started to pick up the pace to his home. "Well, there's a bit of a time difference. St. Rudolph is let out earlier than Yamabuki—and then there's where we want to go... well—fufufu—maybe I'm overreacting a bit. But it would be an honor if you joined me for supper so we could get to know our opponent a little, wouldn't you agree?" Attaboy, Mizuki. Fix your errors. You are a smooth talker and you're going to have a slice of this mancake!
From the way Mizuki worded his spiel, he sounded like he was intending to become friends with Sengoku. He didn't mind; good relationships with rival schools were important in the world of tennis. "Sure, hold on." The redhead reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. He punched a few numbers and held it to his ear, waiting. One quick conversation in which Sengoku confirmed that he could indeed go to Mizuki's for dinner, the redhead ended with, "Thanks. See you tonight!" and switched off the phone. "Well then, Mizuki-san, where to?"
You are definitely going to need to make a second call. "Please, don't use my name so formally—just call me Mizuki, Sengoku-kun~" He made a soft chuckle, twirling a lock of hair again. He didn't really answer him, but kept walking until they arrived at a fairly nice dwelling. "Ah, here we are. Please, make yourself at home, I'll get supper started."
The redhead took a glance around the place. It certainly wasn't low-class. Neither is the person who occupies it... WAIT, where did that thought come from? Sure, it was true he enjoyed watching Mizuki play, sweat dripping off his concentrated face... before he could allow that thought to complete, Sengoku distracted himself by asking, "Are your parents in? And what are we eating?"
"No, they're out for another week, actually. As for supper, I was planning to make sweet and sour chicken with rice, followed by chocolate fondue for dessert. Unless, of course... you have something you'd prefer?" the other asked with a smirk, imagining the sauce getting on his mouth and that pure white top.
"Ahh, my favorite! Lucky~!" Sengoku took off his shoes and laid them by the door. Deciding to strike up a conversation, the redhead asked, "What do you like doing besides playing tennis, Mizuki-kun? Any hobbies?" He curiously poked a large wooden statue next to the hallway entrance.
"Hobbies?" He chuckled in that dripping, seducing voice of his. "Well, I really like recruiting potential players to make St. Rudolph more powerful... and I also enjoy-...Well, I don't have that many interesting hobbies." Mizuki turned the oven on and started to prepare the sauce while it preheated.
Sengoku could only wonder what he had been about to say before he cut himself off. "A give-all-for-the-team type of guy, ah? Sounds just like you, from what I've heard." And now he was at a loss. Where was he going to take the conversation from here?
"Mm, I like that. I definitely sacrifice for my team's honor and dignity. Anyway, what about yourself? Any hobbies, preferences, girlfriends?" Well, not like having a girlfriend would stop Mizuki from getting his way that evening.
Thankful for the opening, Sengoku sat back and thought. "Ahh... No girlfriend... I like to swim, sometimes, in the river. So nice and cool," he mused.
Sengoku certainly had a swimmer's body, from what he observed during practices. Mizuki licked his lips excitedly as he got everything cooking. "You swim too, hm? We might have to have a race one day. Although I'm surprised someone as athletic and cheerful as you doesn't have a girlfriend. Sad, ne?"
"Well, after getting slapped a few times, you begin to get a little more careful with what you say." The redhead laughed. Switching topics, he said, "A swim race? Sounds fun... Maybe in the summer." A thought struck him and he raised an eyebrow. "Say, Mizuki-kun, why are you being so friendly?"
"It's good for schools to be on friendly terms with each other, right? Besides—I think you're a very interesting player." He smirked. "If I may inquire, what kinds of things did you say?"
Sengoku flushed a nice shade of rogue at the memories. Argh, just when he'd drowned the little buggers too... "I'd rather not go into that," he said with a chuckle.
"Aw, that's no fun," he sighed. He spent another half-hour in the kitchen before everything was ready to go. The chocolate fondue was at just the perfect temperature to a body's touch. "Well then, I hope you like it. By the way, just curious, are you still chasing girls?" Everything would go much smoother if Sengoku wasn't as straight as he let on.
The boy paused for a minute, eyes downcast, before he said quietly, "Well... I'm not completely straight. I mean, sure, I like girls, but guys are great too. The question is, does the gender really matter if you love someone and they love you back?" With that eloquent response, he picked up the chopsticks, muttered a quick "Itadakimasu~" and eagerly dug in.
He lost his grin and took another piece of chicken. He'd been thinking something more along the lines of "I'm desperately in love with you, Mizuki—please take me right now," but he supposed that was close enough. Mizuki couldn't help but smile at Sengoku's carefreeness. This would be easy.
"Indeed, it doesn't really matter after all..." Then, much more softly, he added, "especially when two bodies are in passionate heat, sweating and names being called loudly and wanting every single inch of their bodies to have attention..."
The redhead finished his chicken as quickly as was possible without choking and asked, with a raised eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?" Apparently, Mizuki hadn't known about his excellent hearing.
"I was only agreeing with you." The raven-hair smirked calmly and continued to eat. Damn, nothing got on the uniform. He'd have to remedy that with the chocolate.
Sengoku laughed. "Ah, I was kidding, only kidding." He reached for one of the fondue sticks, but stopped. "May I?" he asked.
"Absolutely—it's the dessert I had planned." He flashed his lustful smile at Sengoku, motioning him to please continue and then moved the bowl of strawberries to him.
"Thank you," Sengoku said, smiling, and speared a ripe berry. He dipped it in the sauce and pulled it out, popping it into his mouth. "Mm!" He swallowed. "You have a talent for cooking, Mizuki," he commented before taking another one.
He watched with excitement and tried to hurry through his plate so he could have his "dessert" too. He dipped a strawberry into the chocolate, put half of it in his mouth, and made his move after what seemed like such a long evening. He leaned over, making a soft, inviting sound as he offered the dripping strawberry to Sengoku. The chocolate spilled onto Sengoku's uniform, just as planned.
Sengoku had to blink a couple of times at Mizuki's expression, a look that so clearly said, "You know you want to." Then he noticed the chocolate on his shirt and blinked some more, a blush rising on his cheeks. He was slowly piecing it all together. Then he smirked. "I see. So that was your plan all along." He bit into the strawberry and grinned at the raven-haired boy. "Very smooth, Mizuki-kun. I didn't even notice."
Mizuki could only grin. It took the fun out of it if Sengoku knew what was going on—but at the same time, so many new opportunities arose. He bit more onto the strawberry so that his lips could meet with the redhead's and try to take Sengoku's half out of his mouth. He carefully moved his weight closer so they wouldn't fall on the floor in a painful heap. Not like it would matter to Mizuki, but he wanted to be the only one making his victim suffer.
Sengoku pressed his lips to Mizuki's, softly and just once, before biting off his half of the strawberry and leaning back to swallow. He licked his lips and glanced downward at his dirtied shirt. "Guess I have to take this off..."
Mizuki didn't waste a second to swallow his half and get into his guest's lap, straddling the legs and pressing his body against the other's. He gently meshed his lips to Sengoku's again, letting one hand feel the contours of the body while the other pulled the zipper down and felt the skin of his still-warm chest.
Sengoku could feel himself starting to get hot, despite the temperature in the room. He didn't resist as his uniform was peeled away, exposing his flesh. Obediently, he allowed Mizuki entry to his mouth and shivered at the light touch of a hand.
After all was said and done, he was still the guest and thus would not be topping tonight. The redhead could feel the rub of Mizuki's clothed arousal on his own and the thought sent a furious blush up his neck and face.
He licked all around the Yamabuki player's mouth, finding the tongue and gently trying to nibble on it as he felt every last inch of Sengoku's chest. Those muscles, good lord, those muscles... He felt himself get even harder. One hand started playing with the nipples and the other slithered down his stomach to peel his pants away from the gold mine that was soon to be his.
"Haaaahhh," Sengoku groaned, clawing steadily at the floor to try and keep his balance. His hands were shaking badly from the attentions. Fingers rubbed and pinched at the sensitive nubs on his chest—he anxiously awaited tongue and teeth... Blearily, he noticed that he'd lost his pants—the cool air on his flushed body felt calming, but not enough. He wanted to do something to retaliate, so he reached a hand for Mizuki's shirt. It turned out that one hand wasn't strong enough and he fell back on the floor.
He made sure their lips didn't part once. As if by reflex, Mizuki's hand moved back up and made very soft, feather-like strokes down Sengoku's member. Despite his severe horniness, he wanted to see just how far he could push Sengoku's limit. Mizuki wanted him screaming his name before things got really serious.
The redhead pulled back just in time for a soft whine before he was captured by the raven-haired boy again. One hand reached around to stroke that tempting hair—it was just as silky as he'd imagined. His lower regions were throbbing painfully hot, and he yearned for Mizuki to cup and stroke him. This was starting to feel like the most pleasurable torture the world had to offer.
He let a tempting moan into Sengoku's mouth before allowing his fingers to just trace over the member. Mizuki escaped the kiss for a moment to catch his breath, then went back down and aimed for the neck to mark his property. Hungry teeth bit gently into the skin and sucked.
It was no use trying to keep it bottled up—Sengoku let out a moan. Each finger traced a burning path down his length, and he wondered absently how he was going to hide the lovebites tomorrow. He again made a bid for Mizuki's shirt, going for the buttons. He wanted hot flesh pressed on his own, not just cloth.
Mizuki teased him by pulling away. The raven-hair stood and grabbed a ladle of fondue, leaning back down and drizzling all of Sengoku's body, making sure especially to get below the waist so that it tickled and made the boy squirm.
"Kiyo-kun, wouldn't whipped cream be delicious too?" he asked with seduction dripping in his voice and an even more devilish lustful gleam in his eye.
Sengoku felt somewhat like a strawberry now. He certainly was closer to the same color. The redhead wriggled as his host finished coating him. There was chocolate everywhere, on his face, neck, chest, limbs, and even between his legs.
"I honestly think that would be overdoing it, Haji-kun," Sengoku answered, propping himself on his elbows and swiping at some of the sweet on his cheeks that had ended up close to his mouth. He'd felt the need to verbally tease the boy to get him to start and end this delicious torment.
"I don't know the meaning of overdoing it." Mizki smirked. God, he wanted to tackle him again right now. He realized that if he got up again, Sengoku might try to put the moves on him. He didn't really mind, but... this was his night. He wanted to dominate.
He laid Sengoku back down and ran his hands very lightly over the lower curves of his body. He went back to work, lightly stroking the redhead's length and drawing patterns in the sweet while he leaned down to gently lick the chocolate off the skin. Mizuki's free hand also assisted by stroking the groove of his side.
"Apparently n—aahnn..." What he'd been about to say ended in a moan at that godly tongue on his neck and skilled fingers down his member. He let his eyes drift shut and parted his lips again. "Mizuki..." he uttered, shivering in delight at the single finger teasing a crook in his side, an extremely tender spot that never failed to make him hot. His body ached for more, but there was nothing he could do that would convince Mizuki to pick up his pace, he knew that much. No, he was to suffer this glorious agony until the raven-hair had his fill. Then and only then would he be rewarded.
"What was that?" Mizuki beamed, his lips against the skin. The boy's moans were driving him insane with delight. The hand trickled over the sword once more to get that word out of him again. He made a soft, encouraging moan as he started licking slowly again.
All the chocolate on the right side of his neck was gone now, he could feel Mizuki smiling against his collarbone as he moved there. One leg twitched in ecstasy at the fiery fingers playing over his length. "Mizuki," he couldn't help but call again, a futile plea for him to stop messing around and make him come. Sengoku's entire body was shaking now, and heat was pooling painfully slowly at the pit of his stomach. He went again for the raven-hair's shirt, attempting to get a hand up it or get it off to try and even the playing field.
It wasn't loud enough for his liking, no matter how sexy this boy could make it sound. He once again escaped Sengoku's longing to get his shirt off and lowered himself to put his tongue to the curves leading to his treasure. His hand began stroking the very tip. Moan louder, he ordered silently, tongue every now and then taking a dip down the shaft and coming back up again.
"Ahn!" the redhead gasped, eyes shooting open at the contact of hot and wet on his member. "M-Mizuki," he choked out, much louder than before, yet not quite a scream. He knew the boy's goal now, and he was going to make him work for it. He clenched quivering hands in ink-black tresses, teeth gritting together and then parting for another moan. He was going to explode, he just knew it. This teasing was just too much.
He frowned, still not satisfied. But he could feel the redhead breaking. He swiped his tongue down for a second try, much slower this time to really drive him mad. He was positive Sengoku knew he wouldn't finish what he started until he got what he wanted.
He was losing this mental battle. He could feel it in the lip he'd bitten so hard it had drawn blood to try and stop himself from making a sound. Let this end, he implored to nobody. Make this damned heat and pain go away! He finally let loose, screaming the boy's name into the night.
"God yes..." he groaned. Rewardingly, he put his mouth over Sengoku and started sucking at a slow pace; just to make him scream more. His pace started to quicken as he got more into it.
Sengoku howled—he couldn't help it, it felt so damned good, and what followed was a broken jumble of the syllables of his sadist's name, interspersed with moans as sharp as shattered glass. He barely resisted the urge to hold Mizuki's head down to force him to finish. Tears beaded at his eyes and his being trembled. When he could speak, his voice was filled with want. He was growing hoarse and sweat mixed with the chocolate still on his body. He wasn't going to hold, something was going to snap. The ball of flame at his core slowly contracted as he begged for release.
Mizuki breathed with extreme satisfaction on the member every now and then before continuing to suck on it hungrily. He couldn't wait any longer, he had to taste Sengoku in him. He let his finger find the hole to begin stretching it out.
The redhead mewled wantonly, doing everything in his power not to break and flood Mizuki's mouth with his essence. It was a losing battle, however, and he finally gave up, arching his back high and giving one last yell before his release.
Mizuki moaned excitedly and wasted no time drinking up all of the chocolaty white mess, making sure to get all of it and not leaving a single drop. At the same time, a second finger entered Sengoku and stretched the hole a tiny bit more.
Sengoku stiffened at the intrusion, though just barely. He'd nearly lost consciousness from the afterglow, but after a rally, managed to stay awake. He was drained, and his eyes at half-mast, nearly too exhausted to move. He had no choice but to let Mizuki do what he wanted with his body. For the moment, at least.
He let go of Sengoku, saliva still trailing from his tongue, and frowned. "Sengoku... you can't already be tired," he murmured, pushing his fingers further into him and twisting them. His free hand felt Sengoku's slick muscles again.
The hands tracing patterns in the chocolate on his body roused him; he opened his eyes fully and gave Mizuki a devilish smirk. "Just needed a break," he said softly, his body heating up again.
God, this boy was perfect—that face, those muscles, that whole body... and his ability to play with Mizuki just like he wanted. Finally, Mizuki crawled up Sengoku's body, fingers still locked in like they didn't want to leave, and passionately kissed those sweet lips again.
The boy gritted his teeth in pain now. Sengoku tried his best to relax with that splitting burn in his rear, but it was difficult. He could only hope it would get better. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to be monumentally sore by the time tomorrow rolled around.
"Relax, Sengoku," Mizuki coaxed against his lips, trying to gain access past the gate. He moved his fingers slowly around and finally took Sengoku's hand (the free one) to give his pants a tug down. He had finally earned his treat.
The redhead took a deep breath and calmed his breathing, forcing every muscle to slacken. He sank deep into the sensations in his body, reaching a mental calm. With a rueful inward grin, he guessed that they might have to skip school tomorrow. Oh well.
"Atta boy," he whispered into his mouth, helping the hand get his pants off. He pulled away from their kiss just a moment, saliva trailing from their lips, positioned Sengoku's legs further up, and inserted himself with a satisfactory moan. He pinned the Yamabuki player's wrists and slowly started thrusting into him.
"Nngh..." He whimpered at the loss of the fingers, then sucked air through his teeth as something quite a bit larger filled him. Yeah, he wasn't going to school tomorrow. A pained tear slipped out through his eyelid and he dug his nails into Mizuki's arm. Regaining his composure, he seductively whispered, "Come on, move..."
He melted at the tone of that hiss and obediently put more speed and force into his thrust. He held onto the muscular sides to keep both of them steady. He could feel himself quickly coming to a climax.
Sengoku could feel himself tearing and dripping blood due to lack of lubricant, but he didn't care. Burning hands clamped onto his sides, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glazed with lust. He was describing both of them in that instant, he realized. The pleasure far outweighed the pain, and his body strained upward to catch those lips again.
He was more than happy to reward his guest with a fiery, passionate kiss. He moved his tongue deep in the other's mouth and took hold of his tongue once again. Mizuki pushed himself once more for the final blow.
The redhead felt heat. A surging heat that gushed into him and made him gasp. Milky white mixed with deep red and dark brown on the floor—a surprisingly tantalizing looking combination reminiscent of a mixed-chocolate raspberry tart. Sengoku shivered and bunched his shoulders, chest thrust upward and back knotted from the continuous tension. His vision went black around the edges and his throat loosed a blissful howl.
"Mm... Sengoku... that voice of yours..." he said, almost immediately aroused again by the vocals of the boy. He pulled out and pressed his body to the still-chocolate coated one, all sorts of colored messes getting on his uniform shirt. As if tired wasn't in his vocabulary, he started kissing Sengoku again and rubbing his hands all over those slick, gorgeous sides.
Sengoku lay there, heavily panting and cracked open his eye just enough to make out Mizuki's smile. His lips twitched upward and he said, "We should shower... and clean the floor. And maybe do the laundry."
"In the morning," Mizuki pleaded against the lips. He wanted Sengoku to be fresh and ready for another round when they woke up. Especially if they took a shower together... delicious.
Sengoku wrinkled his nose. "As you say," he conceded. He wouldn't mind the stickiness—he'd been drenched with sweat before and hadn't showered for hours afterward. He put his arms over Mizuki's back and smiled. With that last thought, he fell into a sleep to recharge.
At one point in the night, Mizuki had taken Sengoku up to his bedroom and gotten him under the silk blankets of his soft bed. He laid on top of him, stroking his chest subconsciously. Finally, morning's light seeped through the maroon curtains and lit up the room. Mizuki's head was nestled beside Sengoku's neck, breath caressing the skin.
The redhead fidgeted around before finally cracking open his eyes. He wasn't laying on hard floor anymore, but Mizuki was still on top of him. Some things didn't change. He gently poked the boy awake and whispered, "Hey, get up. You're crushing my lungs, Haji."
A groan escaped his throat and his fingers twitched slightly, but he finally sat up and gave a bold stretch. Straddling the waist, Sengoku had a nice view of every muscle on Mizuki's body. He rubbed his eyes and smirked down tiredly at Sengoku. "...Sorry, Kiyo-kun. Did you sleep well?"
Propping himself on an arm and using the other to flick his sweaty bangs out of his eyes (drawing a soft intake of breath from Mizuki, he noticed with an inward chuckle), he said, "Quite nicely, thank you." Sengoku sat up fully and a sharp, shooting pain erupted up his spinal cord. He hissed and clenched his teeth. "Ow."
"Are you alright?" he asked with alarm, reaching out to touch Sengoku's cheek. He hoped it was only the pain of Mizuki not being in him.
With a quick "Sorry!" he shot out of bed, nearly knocking Mizuki off of it. Anything to get that pain away. There were a few dark stains on the nice sheets, but the main one was the color of dried blood. Mostly because it was dried blood. Sengoku winced. "Ow... I must have bled..." With a sharp look at the quickly-recovering Mizuki, he asked, "How did you get me up here?"
"I carried you, now what's wrong?" he pouted, getting up from his slight topple and approaching him, a little upset. He was going to have his way, dammit, and his catch wasn't going to just run away on him.
"Pretty strong..." he commented before answering, "Oh nothing... I just... tore last night, I guess. If you remember, you didn't have any lubricant..." He pecked Mizuki's cheek. "Sorry." Glancing around, he asked, "Which way to the shower?" with a smirking wink in his eye.
That's better. "I apologize, Kiyo-kun. I just wanted to have it all for myself and I was impatient..." His pout faded and he was smirking again. He took Sengoku's hand and led him across the hallway to the bathroom, then locked the door behind him and got the hot water running. Oh, he was going to need so much attention getting all the chocolate and such off of him... Mizuki licked his lips excitedly.
The moment the water heated up, Sengoku dove in and sighed. Every drop of water that rolled down his back stung and caused another nearly inaudible hiss of discomfort. Streams of brown and white and red swirled down the drain. He rotated his shoulder and cringed. "Ah, my back's all knotted..." he grumbled.
He beamed devilishly and stepped in behind Sengoku. He pressed himself against the dirty, painful back, very gently kneading the flesh with his skillful hands. He had often given these massages to Yuuta when he was stressed or in pain, so he knew exactly what he was doing. "Does that feel any better, Kiyo-kun?" He breathed against Sengoku's neck and gently kissed the skin.
This was so dangerously sexy. Sengoku smiled and placed a hand on one of the ones tending to his back. "Feels great," he said, lifting his face to allow the water to bleed through his rust-colored hair. He rubbed at the front of his body, trying to get the sticky mess off of his skin.
He then noticed Mizuki bucking against him ever so slightly and surmised he wanted another go. "You know," Sengoku murmured, "we'll clean clothes and your sheets later. No need to do it now." He spun around and grinned at Mizuki. "Take them off."
He had almost forgotten about the soaking wet shirt still hugging his body. He raised his eyebrow and grinned at Sengoku's role of dominance, obediently peeling the cloth off his arms. He gazed up seductively under his soaking raven hair. "What are you going to do to me, Kiyo-kun?"
The redhead spun Mizuki around and pinned him to the wall of the shower by his wrists before the boy even knew what was going on. He lay his slick body against the raven-hair's, licking the shell of his ear. "You'll see~" he murmured seductively.
Oh, he loved this! Now he was getting his share from this sexy beast! He moaned anxiously, excited for everything the other had in mind. He very badly wanted to tell him to go as rough as he wanted, but he felt that the chance of sweet, slow torture would be eliminated. Not that he minded either way. His back arched eagerly into Sengoku's chest. Rip me apart, he pleaded in his mind, do everything you can to make me scream in bloody pleasure!
One of Sengoku's hands let go of Mizuki's wrist and curved around his chest, pushing him closer. Two fingers plucked at the nub of a nipple, the very tip of his tongue drew up the side of his neck. Payback time. Sengoku smirked.
Mizuki obliged the boy with pleasured moans. It was difficult to feel the saliva with the water washing it off just as quickly, but all the same, Sengoku knew how to turn him on—like that was difficult to begin with. He arched his back and tried to see if Sengoku was hard yet.
The redhead's other hand ghosted down the black-hair's chest, barely brushing over the skin and raising up goosebumps. A single finger traced the length of his arousal, and he smiled as he nipped up and down the cords in Mizuki's neck. Not enough. He wanted the boy as a writhing mass beneath him. And he was determined to get it.
He moaned a little louder and pretended to try squirming away from his grasp. Yes. Yes. Torture was good. Torture was very good. "Come on..." he pleaded softly, just as Sengoku had when he'd teased him the night before. He moved his free hand up to Sengoku's cheek, then moved it to run through the thick strands of wet hair.
A dose of slow torment should do the trick. Two fingers pressed down on Mizuki's length, rubbing harder. The hand on his chest stroked through the dark hair. He smirked against the skin and nibbled on the nub of bone on the shoulder.
He certainly moaned, but he wanted to see how long he could go without saying Sengoku's name. He had a much higher tolerance than the first-timer anyway. His fingers very lightly tugged on the slippery hands and he bucked his hips to try and get away from Sengoku's teasing, hoping to get even more from it.
The redhead stopped immediately and drew back, smirking. He wanted to see just how long Mizuki could wait with him naked and wet. He picked up the shampoo and ran it through his hair, watching Mizuki out of the corner of his eye so he couldn't see. He made sure to keep an inviting look planted firmly on his face.
Wait, what?
What?
Why did he stop altogether? Was he planning to push him against the wall and rape the living hell out of him? He turned with sheer alarm on his face, to make sure that's what the other player had in mind.
Sengoku was ignoring him entirely! That tore it. He couldn't stand it any longer. He threw himself at Sengoku, pressing their bodies together and taking part in lathering the hair. Then the body. Then every curve and muscle on the body. He dove in for a passionate kiss.
Sengoku smirked. Score. A small soapy tussle later, Mizuki found himself facing Sengoku against the wall, pinned down by his shoulders with Sengoku's mouth on his nipples. The tongue worked skillfully, teeth bore down on the edge of the slowly hardening bud.
"Ahh..." He moaned slightly in pain, but grinned at the excitement of it. Mizuki moved his leg up some to slide over Sengoku's back. I can't give up yet, I've got to keep this up longer! he encouraged himself, wanting desperately for Sengoku to make him work for his reward like Mizuki had done to him the night before.
Sengoku's hands came down around Mizuki's sides, holding him close and forcing the back into an arch. His mouth swept across the boy's chest and lathed the other nipple, one hand clawing his nails gently into the oversensitive bump. He slipped a knee between Mizuki's legs, so stealthily that he wouldn't notice until the redhead stood up. Now the game began.
He begged inaudibly for the tongue swipes to continue and the hand to return to his arousal, but he wasn't going to let his guest know that. He wasn't ready to admit defeat. "Is that—all?" Mizuki smirked.
Sengoku stood and his leg brushed gently against Mizuki's inside thigh. He murmured an inward "Lucky~" at the expression on the raven-hair's face. "Beg for more," he suggested. "I might listen to you."
He chuckled in that usual sexy, slick voice of his. "I don't beg." He licked his lips hungrily, knowing Sengoku knew exactly what he wanted.
The knee pressed up barely harder, ignoring where Mizuki wanted it and a finger teased a sensitive point on his neck. "Then you'll have to make do with what I'm doing now," he stated in no uncertain tones.
He moaned again and tried to keep his lustful attention on Sengoku's face. "You know how to tease me, ne?" He smirked, starting to gasp from some of the sensitive areas being pressured. He was definitely going to keep kidnapping this sexy-as-hell boy.
Sengoku could sense Mizuki breaking ever so slowly. He refused to pleasure him more, wanting to see his face contorted in blissful agony before he finally snapped and pleaded for his release. Seems that torture's fun for the person inflicting it as well, he reflected.
He tried to hold on for longer, but after a long while of unmoving torture, he finally released a much louder gasp. He'd lost this round. "Sengoku, please, just touch me already!" he begged, squirming.
The redhead quickly complied to his desires, reaching a hand down to caress Mizuki's length. It throbbed needily in his grip—he stroked with deft touches and his teeth clamped at the juncture between Mizuki's neck and shoulders. Their chests touched lightly, providing extra heat as the water beat down on their bodies.
He threw his head back and panted loudly, repeating Sengoku's name faintly. He moved his hands onto the other's wet back and clenched the skin wantonly. His voice got only a tiny bit louder, waiting before he gave the guest what he wanted.
Sensing Mizuki's redline, he squeezed his hand and thumbed the head, licking Mizuki's lips gently. "Scream," he murmured.
He moaned much louder, but he was not going to scream. Not yet. He forced a deep kiss to pacify himself and make Sengoku torture him more. Just a little longer, he told himself.
Sengoku pulled back, refusing the kiss. No, he would not let Mizuki have comfort. His head leaned down and lavished his collarbone, drawing a line across the ridge. A nip here, a nip there, and he felt the boy quivering, hot, under his touch.
"Ne, Sengoku!" he pleaded, losing all control of his will to hold back. It had been a while since he'd been the victim, he'd thought for sure his tolerance was better than this. "Let me kiss you!" His voice whined with another gasp.
He allowed Mizuki to pull his head up and force him into a kiss—his tongue darted out and licked around the inside, taunting the raven-hair's tongue. He loved how pliant the boy could be with a little teasing.
He whimpered and quickly kissed him deeply. One hand held tightly onto his back and the other grabbed on to the back of his head. Mizuki tried desperately to bite onto the tongue, even have a little ruling in this round. "Sengoku," he moaned into the other's mouth, finally sinking his teeth in lightly.
Sengoku separated from Mizuki's mouth and slipped downward, flitting his tongue over his treasure. He could feel the shaking in the boy's body and ostentatiously licked the tip.
"Sengoku!" He couldn't wait any longer. He clenched some of the slippery hair to keep his head down. "Come on—move, Sengoku!"
"In due time," Sengoku murmured, smirking and keeping up with his torture.
Mizuki whimpered pleading sounds and tried saying his name louder. Eventually, it was echoing through the bathroom walls, accompanied with moans and pants. "Please, Sengoku!" he howled. He could feel his climax coming soon, but he wanted Sengoku to take all of it.
"That's more like it," he said, opening his mouth and swallowing Mizuki down to the hilt. He was happy to have a very small gag reflex. They were both grateful for the heat of lust as the water went icy cold.
"Move it—already!" he cried, pleading his name again. He was almost a little jealous that Sengoku knew how to tease so much better—but at least it was all his.
The redhead complied, humming. His tongue curled around and moved incessantly, determined to put Mizuki over the edge of sanity.
"More! Faster!" Mizuki demanded loudly, gripping Sengoku's head tightly and trying to keep himself still for his partner's convenience.
Sengoku felt the fingers on his skull and ran through the slit at the tip, pulling back and circling the head before engulfing him again. He wondered absently just how much more Mizuki could take.
"Stop teasing me!" he whined, about to break. He held on for as long as he could before he released himself into Sengoku's mouth and gasped for air. The water was icy and painful, only adding to the horribly pleasureful torture.
The redhead swallowed as much of the bitter liquid as he could, wincing at the taste. He stood and switched off the water with his foot, wiping the ooze off his cheek with his thumb, licking the rest away. "You know you're adorable when you're compliant," he admitted. He smiled and pushed Mizuki up against the wall, trailing two fingers down his back and stopping at his entrance.
"Aren't I...? I don't mind being dominated every now and then... especially by someone like yourself..." he leaned over to kiss Sengoku again. "I'm dominating next time, though," he whispered against the wet lips.
"We'll see," Sengoku purred, swiping his tongue at Mizuki's cheek and pressing his fingers in.
He moaned encouragingly. "You like being ruled too, you know." He moved his tongue to lick Sengoku's cheek as well.
The redhead splayed his fingers and nudged a third in beside them, his other hand holding Mizuki's shoulder to the wall. He rocked the digits, thrusting in and looking for that spot.
He moved his hands over the slick chest of the other. Damn, he looked so sexy with that red hair slicked back and messy, and every muscle glittering with wetness. It was all Mizuki's. All his. He gave another inviting moan and smirked.
Sengoku licked his lips with a certain lustful keen to his eyes—he thrust deeper and spread his fingers, loosening the raven-haired boy out. Where was that spot, he wondered, that tiny place that would make the boy howl with pleasure?
He almost wanted to just give himself to Sengoku for that amazing sex, but decided to play some and bit his tongue to keep him from getting too loud. Work for it, Sengoku, he grinned mentally.
With head tilted, Sengoku had no choice but to admire Mizuki's self-control. He was determined to shatter that armor and have him under his power, at least for the moment. He pressed up harder and rubbed against the spot.
He whined a tiny bit louder but was not going to break as easy as he had earlier. Well, so he hoped—Sengoku was incredible at making him crack. He clenched Sengoku's shoulders gently.
That whine fed Sengoku's need—he wanted to hear louder sounds and teased the spot without mercy. The other hand went to the crook of his neck and fingered the tendons.
Mizuki smiled and only fed Sengoku spoonfuls. "More~" he moaned with a soft gasp.
More it is, Sengoku thought. He pulled his fingers out, savoring the small sound Mizuki gave him from the loss. The water must be warmed by now, he pondered, turning the shower back on to grace them with a stream of heat.
Sengoku flipped their positions and leaned back against the wall to brace himself, thankful that Mizuki's shower had a good grip. He slowly guided the raven-haired boy over his body and impaled him, gritting his teeth pleasurably at the tightness.
He happily emitted a low, throaty sound, fingers digging into the shoulders and giving Sengoku a lusty grin. "Yes, give it all to me!"
The redhead bared his teeth, not threateningly. "Feisty, aren't you?" he cooed teasingly, holding Mizuki's hips to keep him in place. He pulled the boy closer to him to engage him in a deep kiss. Mizuki's body was arched over him, his feet pressed bracingly on the wall behind him—an interesting position and delightfully tantalizing. He picked up a steady pace.
Mizuki kissed him deeply, moaning softly into his mouth. He tried running his hand through the other's wet hair again and taking a small handful.
Sengoku let his own small sounds of pleasure mingle with the other's, the hand on his hips curving down to his lower back and supporting him. The hand in his hair spurred him onward and he moved faster, eyes drawing shut.
Mizuki bit onto the redhead's tongue as the passion got hotter and faster. He desperately tried to claw into the slippery skin with his free hand to really get Sengoku moving.
The warm water provided a frictionless film on their bodies—Sengoku moved without cease and panted at the heat and pressure. That familiar burning lump was building in his stomach again—it couldn't be long now. The redhead pulled Mizuki against him and he nipped at the boy's neck.
He whined loudly and clutched the hair a bit tighter. It had to be soon, he prayed, he was just about to completely break from all their excitement.
Sengoku gasped as climax knocked him over the head, gently whispering Mizuki's name. More white streamed down the drain, and the redhead slumped to the floor.
Mizuki followed him and rewarded him a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. He laid limp on the other's body, equally tired, but continued to kiss him and touch Sengoku's wet body all over again. He wasn't going to get off anytime soon.
Sengoku couldn't help but chuckle as Mizuki stiffened and sucked a breath through his teeth when the water went ice cold again. "Now will you get off of me?" he asked politely, prodding the boy's chest with two ramrod fingers. The second time wasn't as bad as the first, he decided, at least he didn't feel like dropping unconscious.
He gazed up desirably. "Make me," he beamed, kissing his chest. It almost sounded like he never wanted the sex in the first place (but Mizuki quickly reassured himself.)
Sengoku smirked and raised an eyebrow in a "You asked for it" look. Without further ado, he hauled Mizuki up bridal-style and stepped out of the bath, cutting the water off with his foot again. "We should clean your floor and wash our clothes," he suggested, kissing the raven-hair and murmuring a soft "Thank you" into his ear.
He made no objections to being carried by the strong player. "Oh, fine, I suppose," he gave in, smiling when he received the response that it was enjoyed. When he was put down, he grabbed the towel and rubbed down Sengoku's body to get him somewhat dry, then offered the towel to him for his turn.
Sengoku dried the boy's dark hair and snorted at a thought. "You know, we're probably going to be doing the laundry naked... Or at least I am anyway," he remarked, wrapping the towel about his waist.
"I'm not objecting," he smirked, running his hand through his slightly drier hair when the towel stopped ruffling it. He didn't do Sengoku's hair—but meh, it was fine like that.
He picked up his soaking wet shirt from the floor and led the way down to the dining room, where they'd had their first fun, and picked up the coated clothes of the Yamabuki player and his pants. Then he went into the laundry room. Calling over his shoulder, he said, "Well, it certainly was fun skipping school today, don't you agree?"
Sengoku merely blushed and chased after him with a grin.
And end! We hope you enjoyed, we really do.
There's a second part to this which I probably am not going to put up |D I managed to write Sengoku really... strangely. I just don't... Yeah. I don't know.