5 : 3 : 4
Warning I: If you don't read yaoi, then don't, dimwits.
Warning II: OOC, go figure. PlotWhatPlot? Tell me about it.
#1
It lingers . . . The faint bitter taste of the substance as tongues danced in an unrhythmic pattern, with no apparent finesse whatsoever. Teeth clashed. Tongues battled, each proving one was worth more than the other. Mouth assaulted mouth as breaths mingled. And Matt faintly wondered, with the little remaining presence of mind he had, why Mello had to be so stubborn.
#2
It was fluid . . . smooth . . . seductive. He loved the sound of it coming from his mouth. It had a certain ring to it and Mello knew no one else would have called him as beautiful as he did. He spread his legs wider to welcome more of his thrusts.
#3
Sometimes, the beeping sound of his DS irritated him as much as what Near did to his petulant nerves. But now that he gets to be on top, the pathetic piece of technology seemed to have exalted and deserved more glory than that stupid albino.
#4
Mello wondered, what had to be so interesting and addictive to those wretched sticks. The whiff of the smoke stays behind his bed sheets and he hated the smell. And Matt grabs his face and crushes his mouth with his. Cigarettes aren't too bad after all.
#5
They were orange. He hated orange. How his vanity reflects on them and how his lover's eyes are blocked with the bloody color: he detests it. Because it was orange. They were too vibrant it was sinful. And Mello pulls them over his bangs . . . and Matt thought that seeing normal colors once in a while is fine.
#6
The flavour isn't actually nicotine. Probably at first lick, it was . . . but as it dragged longer than he intended, it tasted much, much better. Must be the faint flavour of mint . . . and strawberries . . . and chocolate. His brand of chocolate.
#7
Mello hated to cuddle. He hated to feel skin rubbing against skin after sex because it always gets to his nerves. Just that . . . the pillows were all knocked down on the floor and he was too lazy to pick them up. And as Matt nuzzled his head on the crook of his neck, he didn't push him away. He was just as warm as a hot-water bottle.
#8
All he could feel is the violent coldness of marble on his back and Matt ripping through him. He wondered idly why he always had to bottom. But as white-hot pleasure and the force of his orgasm shook his mind, he forgets why he had raised his voice in protest in the first place.
#9
Shidoh wonders, as he (accidentally) walks in through the brick wall, why two people—males in particular—had to be so aggressive when it comes to mating. Humans sure are terrifying at most times.
#10
Mello is a superior creature. Nobody (Near) gets to top him. And as Matt glides over him, he moans. When he licks, he screams. And Mello knew Matt had to be an exception.
#11
Matt promises to stop making it hurt and Mello throws to him the nearest table lamp. The tears—no matter how much he tries to hide them and pretend it isn't tearing him apart—Matt wipes them away and leans in to whisper, "I'll go gentler next time but first—" His voice drifts, and then raises to a shout. He forgets the next words.
#12
He was pinned against the wall and the back of his head hurt like hell. He didn't mind, as he frantically struggled to remove Matt's annoying clothes off as they landed on the floor. He didn't mind even as he was flattened underneath the redhead; he presses quickly to him and they ravish each other's mouth. He didn't mind, even as Matt rips through him again . . . the pleasure was too much that the remaining string of his sanity snapped to two.
#13
Mello is crazy; Matt thinks as he watches him work on his lower limbs, spreading the chocolate syrup between his thighs and began licking it off.
#14
And because they were too tired to move, they stayed like that for a while until Mello figured he's too heavy and pushes him off. There were no pillows and Matt snuggles. When he said, "Don't wake up yet," he meant, I'll stay with you forever. "I still have work to do—" "Shidoh isn't back yet." "Ah—forget it."
EDITED: 01/28/10