Fandom: Sengoku Basara

Pairing: Motochika/Masamune

Rating: Mature.

Word Count: 1335

Summary: Masamune gets locked out of his dorm one night and is happened upon by an older student by the name of Motochika. Watch the sparks fly. Or something. (pffft this was supposed to be a drabble)

"I can't fucking believe it," Masamune growled at himself. He punched the wall beside his door, ignoring how the skin split and started dripping blood. He glared at the door. Locked out of my own room!

"Everything alright here?"

Masamune blinked, turning to the voice. It was one of the older students in the dorm. He 'tsk'd, taking note of the wide-banded patch that covered the man's left eye.

The strong face.

He was hot, Masamune duly noted, leaning against the wall. Taller than himself with an obviously fit body under those loose black jeans and dark purple muscle shirt.

Masamune licked his lips, his one eye darkening as he took a slower inventory of the man in from of him. Obviously.

"Everything's...just fine," Masamune replied, a smirk on his face. "Who the hell are you? I thought the whole dorm was at that party or whatever."

"Chousokabe Motochika, at your service," Motochika smiled easily in response. He had taken note of the heated glance directed at his person, and he couldn't say he minded.

The other man wasn't bad looking himself. Longish tousled hair hid the strings of an old fashioned patch that covered his right eye. A lean body leaned casually against the wall, covered nicely in dark jeans and a dragon-faced blue t-shirt with a leather biker jacket.

A lone blue eye looked at his gray, squarely, challenging.

Lustfully.

Motochika breathed out slowly, surprised at his body's own heated response to such a look. "I forgot something in my room and I was on my way to pick it up...that is until I heard a rather loud slam. Sounded like someone punching a wall."

He raised an eyebrow, eying the very obvious dent besides the other man. "Now, who the hell are you?"

"Date Masamune, at your service," the other man replied mockingly. Then he glared balefully at his own door and flexed his right hand, grimacing.

"Tch."

Masamune turned back to Motochika, only to blink in surprise. When had the other man gotten so close?

Motochika grabbed his hurt hand, gently turning it around to bring the bruised and bleeding knuckles to light. "This looks like it hurts," he commented lightly.

His eye reflected an odd gleam and Masamune's breath hitched as he read the emotion in it.

A reflection of his own.

He licked his lips, mouth opening, lid falling halfway. He looked almost demure, but the look was more akin to an animal lying in wait. "Does it now?" Masamune replied. "It looks worse than it is."

"Mmhmm," Motochika hummed. He brought the hand closer to his face. "That's what they always say."

His eye caught Masamune's.

Then he lowered his mouth to the wounds.

Masamune shuddered when he felt a hot tongue lave at his skin. It stung and he was sure this was unhealthy but damn if the feeling didn't go straight to his cock.

His pants were beginning to feel too tight.

He spread his legs slightly in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. Motochika saw the movement and his gray eye darkened.

Lips and tongue traveled over the rough skin, eventually reaching the underside of the wrist. He nipped at the delicate skin there.

All the while, they never lost eye contact, blue locked onto gray.

When Masamune felt teeth against his skin, he growled. "Fuck this shit."

He reached around with other hand, grabbing a mess of thick silver hair and yanking the larger man up and close.

They were in the each others face, so close they could taste each others breath.

"Don't be a cock tease, Chousokabe," Masamune growled, lips pulled back in a fierce smile.

Motochika chuckled. His free hand grabbed Masamune's hip, while the other loosened his hold on the wrist to clasp their hands together. He pushed forward, until Masamune's back was against the wall completely and every inch of their bodies seemed to touch.

They're lips were still hovering.

"Who's the cock tease?" he muttered above those lips teasingly.

Masamune dropped his head back against the wall and rumbled laughter. He rolled his body forward and the laughter turned into a hitched moan. "Better..." he purred, tugging at Motochika's hair.

Motochika exhaled sharply at the feeling of friction. He licked his lips. They were tingling with the need to devour, to suck and bite.

To kiss.

He opened his mouth to breathe and he answered Masamune's movements with his own instead.

To kiss would be to lose, he knew. Lose what, he didn't know but in between being barely introduced and grinding against the wall, some sort of challenge had been issued.

And Motochika didn't like to lose.

His tight control nearly unraveled at the sound that ripped from the other man's throat, however.

Masamune didn't know why he was so turned on, but something about the situation was just positively erotic. He was grinding with a man he had barely met in the middle of an empty hallway that anyone could turn into.

He wanted to stick his tongue down Motochika's throat. He wanted Motochika to stick his hand down his pants and jack him off. He wanted to be roughed up, sucked off and fucked into the wall.

He just wanted the Motochika in him already, dammit.

He let go of Motochika's hand to grope behind him for the door...only to be reminded of the problem that had led to this situation in the first place.

He cursed colorfully, even as he moaned around his words. The grinding had gotten harder, faster and fuck if he wasn't about to come in his pants.

"What's wrong, Dragon?" Motochika grunted, resting his newly freed hand against the wall besides Masamune's head. As he nipped the exposed skin of Masamune's neck, he thought briefly of the nickname had slipped from his tongue without second thought.

It fit.

Masamune 'tsk'd, hand now groping uselessly against the wall behind him. "I'm locked out of my room," he answered simply, slightly embarrassed. He hissed at the sting at his neck. "Fuck."

"Well..." Motochika chuckled against his neck. "That answers the earlier question."

"Where's your..." Masamune choked back his words as a particularly hard, long roll of their hips made him shudder and curse.

"Where's my...?" Motochika teased. He slowed down. He didn't want to admit that he was so close to just letting loose until both of them made hot, wet messes in their jeans.

"Fuck you," Masamune spat through gritted teeth. "Your room, you damned Demon."

"Fuck you," the 'Demon' retorted, smiling. He frowned. "Two floors up," he admitted grudgingly.

They had paused entirely and their chests were heaving from the combined exertion of frenzied pleasure and holding themselves back.

"...just fuck me to the wall, Chousokabe," Masamune groaned. "We won't make it that far like this."

"As fun as that sounds and as much as I might want to, Dragon," Motochika drawled, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. "The party's about to end."

"...do me fast?"

Motochika laughed at the almost-pout on Masamune's face. He brought his hand out of his pocket...and what was he holding but a single red card-key.

Masamune stared at him. "You're a fucking RA and you have a master key," he stated simply, chuckling.

"Well-"

The Dragon surprised them both by pulling the Demon's face close. Masamune's eye was sinfully dark, the smile tugging at his lips sensual, personal and for all that he looked ready for Motochika to fuck him into any available surface, the older man had a feeling that he was the one about to be taken.

The Demon had been tempted by Dragon's treasure and now he was ensnared, trapped by this fierce man.

It wasn't a bad feeling. It made the heat in his body rise, made him lick his lips and purr in anticipation of what lay beyond this door.

Whatever happened the next moment, he had lost, he realized, belatedly.

"Just for that, you get all of me tonight, Chousokabe Motochika."

And Masamune kissed him.