POV- Kida
There is plenty of confusing smut, and incase it's too hard too understand this is Kida's imagination, hence the plot holes. It's not actually happening, in fact, it might not even happen at all, it's just Kida's imagination. It hurt to write this...I maintain that Izaya really does like mikado in the series...Despite the author not liking yaoi and having only written a Shizaya for a joke...Mikado and Izaya are still a couple! Don't burst my bubble damnit!
To the story~
The images are in my mind; your hands, his body, caressing, slow soft lingering touches. His body arches upwards, seeking more, more of your embrace, not of mine.
Bright blue eyes, they should be reflecting my flushed face, but instead your face is looking back up at you threw them. He moans; I know he does. He's such a virgin. He's meant to be my virgin.
Do you have those satin sheets you love so much? The black ones with the silver pillow covers. I doubt you'd need that soft blanket; maybe it lies on the floor, discarded. It's not the only thing you've discarded in your life.
You'd lean down to kiss him; he'll open up to you. He's so desperate. I know I waited too long. Damn you, I know it's really my fault, but blaming you for it makes it a bit easier to bear. It was you after all who told me he wasn't ready, that he'd reject me, that it would freak him out. 'Too much too soon.' You'd said in that condescending way. I like a fool believed you. You'd betrayed me last time I believed you, yet I found myself falling for your lies again. I want to believe it's because you're just that good, rather then it's because I'm just that desperate.
Now you're tongue's in his mouth and he's moaning, by God he's moaning. I can hear it; feel the two of you kissing. It should be my kiss. My tongue should be dancing with his, sharing our salvia as I thrust against him, both of us still wearing our pants. It should be you doing these things, not to him. God, not to him.
Please, just make the thoughts end. Why the Hell did you feel the need to send me that picture? I could have fooled myself he meant he was just going home if you hadn't done that. Worse was the sound file.
Him moaning the wrong name. Why is he moaning your name? It should be my name he moans as he writhes in pleasure, his bared cock weeping in desire, begging me to take it deep into my mouth.
By now you'll have finished kissing, or are you still kissing him, your tongues still tangled together, wet and slimy. The kiss is filled with all the wrong emotions. Desperation, smugness, cruel enjoyment and loneliness. If it were me, I tell myself, it would be all love, desire, lust, trust and... and daydreams. I would never do it.
Your hand is rubbing at him threw his pants. His body reacts, arching up as he moans, his penis hardening just that tiny bit more and in the darkness you smirk, that smug expression as you think of me thinking of this. You know I know and it's why you're doing this. You have no feelings for him, or do you feel jealousy? Is that what you feels as you reach a hand to his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping him, reaching a hand in without the eagerness I would have, to grab gently at his member, still clothed thinly with his briefs. You begin pumping and he moans the wrong damned name, his voice so obscured with lust the word is scarcely even there.
Please just make it end. Make it my name. Make him cry my name. Can't he see how much better my name would be to call out?
Your hand movements are cold and detached, but he doesn't notice. It's his first time, how could he know your mind is miles away from him? God, just care enough to not break him. Make him no promises you are already planning to break. Please please don't shatter him.
His back arches again as you begin sucking on him through the cotton fabric. God how his flushed face makes even your heart beat a little faster. His mouth is opened slightly; puffs of air make their way through as he pants in pleasure. It hasn't even started yet. Mikado, my lips would feel so much better. Please, stop moaning his name.
His voice is acid as he pulls back with a wet plop. "Ne Mikado-kun, we should get more comfortable."
He mumbled slightly, unable to form the words even in his mind. You've melted him into a puddle of pleasure and I can't stop thinking about it. He looks so hot as he opens his lustful eyes and looks at you in innocent confusion.
"Doesn't being so confined just ache Mikado-kun?"
His blush deepens as he gets it. Bet it surprises you he's not a moron when it comes to sex. He's a virgin, no doubt about it, but he's not an idiot you bastard. My Mikado is no idiot.
His hands clumsily pull his own pants down and you lean back to watch, delighted by how distracted he is. You manage to take a quick photo. I know I'll see that later. For now I only have the one of the two of you against a wall, kissing so hard I want to throw up. His face, so innocent and so desperate for the love you promise. How could I not have seen how damn lonely he was? He lived alone, held all his secrets to himself, kept all his thoughts to himself. He had no one. I was there, but I didn't show him that.
He looks up at you confused. You're still wearing your pants after all. You smirk and pull him over; he lands with an 'oomph' as he exhales in surprise. You land him on his back and crawl over him like a predator about to devour its prey.
He looks up, fear mixing with desire and desperation. Mikado, with me you would never have any need for fear. Just run away now. Run to me. I swear I'll ignore him this time. I'll protect you, I will.
You'll take your time sucking him off, holding him just at the point of cumming before pausing, waiting for him to beg over and over, say such horrid things that will all be eaten up eagerly by the recorder. This part's all for my benefit. I know it's sick, but I'll keep the recording, I'll listen to it every night and cover your name with mine, pretending so much that eventually I'll feel him, see him, smell him, taste him. I'll have him in all the ways you have him tonight, and it will be just as fake.
Finally you lick, suck, bob, tease and play and this time let him release, pulling away and covering the head with a blanket. You don't want to make a mess, and unlike with me, you don't want to drink what he has. He doesn't even notice it; he's too dizzy from his orgasm. God, why did he moan the wrong name again? Can he not say my name that way? Just once.
You sit up, unbuttoning your pants. I hope you don't have a look of annoyance of disgust. Please, lust would be better than that. How can you take something so precious from me without even wanting it? I swear, I will kill you somehow.
His eyes open slowly as you push three fingers in his face. He looks at them cross-eyed, they're too close to look at them clearly.
I bet it didn't take much convincing, although in my mind he says 'no' at first. Eventually he begins sucking, his eyes closing as he focuses on the task. He doesn't see the phone you use to take another photo with. He doesn't hear you put it to the side as you cover the sound with fake words of loving encouragement. Damn your acting skills. You're far too convincing.
He eats your words up, loving what they offer and working harder to earn more of them.
You pull your fingers away, tracing over his never touched entrance and he gasps. It's such a cute sound but it means nothing to you. You tease a little more before pushing a finger in, pulling another gasp from him. You narrow your eyes in annoyance; I know this isn't what you want in a partner. I've been on that bed, but I wasn't quite it at that stage. Sick as you are, I was still too young, but I wasn't as damn pure as Mikado.
You're getting bored by the time you can put the third finger in and he makes a soft sound of discomfort. You're patience is wearing thin; you offer no words of loving encouragement this time. You just thrust your fingers harshly.
He begins crying softly and you scowl, hiding your annoyance by shushing him and cradling him in your arms as you slow your fingers. You tell him your sorry, you just want him so badly you lost yourself. He believes you. He lets you pull your fingers out and tangle your fingers with him as you slowly push your erection in, your eyes closing in the long awaited bliss.
The detail of my imagination makes my own cock throb.
The heat; so tight. His face, flushed, damp from sweat, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open. A soft moan, a sound between pleasure and pain leaves his throat. By God I doubt I'd be able to hold myself back.
You, with your cold heart are not even looking at his face. Your eyes are closed as you focus on the feeling, replacing him with me as you slowly begin moving, trying hard to pretend my legs are wrapped around you waist. You scowl and reach down, picking his legs up and putting them around your waist. He's too timid and innocent, too pure to know what to do, to be as taken in by lust as you image I would be. As you pick up the pace you have to work hard not to call out my name as he calls out your name softly, over and over as his cock oozes pleasure, ready to burst again. He will sleep well tonight. I won't sleep at all. I'll listen to that sound file, over and over again until my tears stop coming and the sun rises. I'll keep replacing his name with mine until neither name matters anymore. God Mikado, just say my name. Just say my fucking name! Just this once, please.
It's not your fault. It's my fault he's now built up a fast pace. He's all but forgotten about you, but you don't notice. It must be normal. He promised after all, that he loved you. He said what I wanted to say, only he said it more convincingly then I could, despite the words being true from me and false from him.
You cum, pleasure overwhelming you. It's you first time. It's not your fault you didn't last long. No one does on their first time.
He keeps going even though you're half unconscious, exhausted and spent.
He keeps thrusting into you, imagining me. It's one Hell of a sick triangle. Long after you've given up he finally cums inside of you, taking you from me. He stays inside, his eyes closed as he pictures me lying under him, panting, my eyes half lidded.
He rolls onto his side, falling out of you with a sick plop that you hardly hear, finally falling asleep with him beside you, no arms wrapped around you. For him, that would break the illusion. He knows you're not me, and touching you now would only remind him.
I hate him so damn much.
I flip my phone shut, unable to look at the picture any longer. Sure enough I'm soon listening to you moaning through the cheap speakers of my laptop as cry. God I'm a pathetic coward.
Gah! Sorry for crappiness, it's after 2am and I just got this in my head and wrote it in an hour with no editing...Bad I know, but I figure I should spend my time berating myself on not updating my stories rather then editing new ones...