I should be writing my essay, or at least, starting the outline…and reading, but inspiration only hits you once, right? And I just got punched…
I just stole the title for this, from the novel on my lap, Hard Times, but feel free to associate any perverted connotations to it as well. They're implied.
Disclaimer: Nothing.
-=Hard and Harder=-
Just another moment. They stole it, as they did the money that they pickpocket from their dead enemies. The coins paid for their hotel and the sex that helped them unwind, after the adrenaline turned on their hormones and the endorphins began to arouse them. It was a chaotic brew, a stir of thick lust, and a litre of bloodshed.
But the taste…how fucking incredible it was.
There was clawing and biting - teeth and nails - Kisame's neck was striped in dark mauve lacerations, while Itachi's neck burned with multiple punctures.
There was a gorgeous bruise on Itachi's chest from where Kisame held onto his lithe body, plunging in and out. The colors were fresh now, a blend of bright sanguine red, while the undertones, shadows, and highlights ranged from Kisame's own skin color, to the complete and total absence of it. Kisame's lip was torn, not from a blow, but from Itachi's incisors. He had coaxed the rough mouth into a kiss, in which he then dominated and bit, until it moaned hollowly.
That was only foreplay…
They watched as the night began its repose and descended past the horizon. The partners hated dawn - it was cold, and yet the sky was lit brightly by warm colors. It felt like a fake blend, a façade, a confused state of mind. The truth, they believed, was always right in front of them, where it should be, no masks, and no veils…
Covers and layers only ever hid the body and not its secrets.
Only in the morning, did Itachi finally move. He always began their routine. His fingers would caress Kisame's jaw, outline the fractured structure, and trace the scars. In return, Kisame usually kissed the digits, then Itachi's mouth, before they dressed and vacated the broken bed.
But this morning, still hard, Kisame circled his tongue around the soft pad of Itachi's right ring finger. Itachi stared, curious, but not entirely impassive to the intimate touch. Never before had his finger been sucked on. He felt himself growing harder. He was, however, surprised to find it engorged, as his ring was slowly removed. Kisame dangled it from his tongue, an amused smirk contouring the perverted gesture.
Itachi, willing to indulge in the lapse of habituation, leaned forward to retrieve it, in a similar fashion, but the shark would not release the tangy metal that adorned his mouth. It was his property now, just as his own ring, removed from his left ring finger, was placed on Itachi's.
Kisame slid the red ring onto his finger and grinned at it, as if admiring the different kanji inscribed in the metal. He was a very subtle man and yet his intentions were obvious. Itachi kept the new ring, despite his distaste for the tawny coloring.
Besides, the only thing he truly tasted was Kisame...
It was a sensation that was already hard, and now harder to forget.
-=EndE=-
Ahhhh, wtf. I am disappointed with my ending. I started with some kinky delish, which was my goal and finished with my original idea that seems bland, in comparison.
Love you, Rieka. I'll do better next time, I promise. I'll give you kisses if you can dissect all the crappy subtleties I included.
