A/N: This is a written for the prompt Yamamoto/Gokudera - juice, "Come on, squeeze harder." in khrfest at LJ. Still working on the neko fic, (and a gazillion other fics), sorry guys! This isn't exactly kinky or fits the idea of Cosplay Party!, but I think I shall just collate most of my yaoi fics here.
Hope you guys like it!
Roles of the day: Lemon Juice Maker, and Cleaner? (8059)
Next Time, We Buy From The Convenience Store
(Why do I always have long names.)
"You squeeze it like that." A large, tanned hand gave the yellow fruit an effortless squeeze, and a generous amount of glistening--slightly clear with hints of yellow--juice dripped from the half-cut flesh into the mug positioned below. After giving the lemon a few good concluding rubs to force all existing droplets out, Yamamoto looked up at the very focused Italian, and said, "You do it like this, and you get the juice, Gokudera."
Gokudera's lips tugged downwards, as a wrinkle surfaced between his eyebrows. "What?" he scoffed in a flat voice, incredulous. "That was exactly what I had been doing just now!" He removed the hand his chin was lying on, placing it out in front of him with an open palm in disbelief.
Yamamoto gave a good hearty laugh, and gently pushed the glass cup across the kitchen table towards the other man. "Maybe you are not putting enough strength into it," he suggested, reaching over for the tap facing Gokudera. He tiptoed a little to twist the knob open, before rinsing his sticky hands under the running water. "You need to know how to squeeze it properly, Gokudera."
"Che," Gokudera hissed, as he took another cut lemon which he obviously had issues with in hand. "Are you saying that I'm weak?"
Yamamoto could only deny any accusations the highly-suspicious Storm gathered, and be captured watching Gokudera do work. He watched as Gokudera's tongue licked his lips, leaving slightly flushed aftermath on the supple flesh. His dreamy orbs of eyes covered by his eyelids as he took in a deep breath, and cracking them open again, his narrow silver brows interlocking in determination, before raising his almost-bony elbow and crushing the helpless fruit into a pulp.
Shimmering acidic juice spewed in all directions instead, flying everywhere like comets, and landing in every possible place except the cup directly below.
The baseballer just burst into another thick laughter, very much humoured, while wincing at the stray strand that sting his eye. Gokudera's eyebrow twitched, his mouth jerking in so much frustration Yamamoto knew he was going to explode soon. Honestly, of all fucking things to be bad at, he had the be the one with problems squeezing a fucking lemon. Stupid fruit, for being so damn hard to make a decent juice out of, stupid house, for not owning a single piece of juicing contraption, stupid baseball idiot, for being better than him in squeezi-
Two long arms wrap around his waist, knocking him out of his rants. He felt a tingle slither down his spine when a ticklish sensation of Yamamoto's sharp chin resting on his shoulder arrived. He could feel Yamamoto's vocal cords vibrate as he spoke in a low voice, meant for only his juice-stained ear, "Take a break Gokudera, you've been at it the whole morning."
Gokudera gritted his teeth to put on a semblance of annoyance, although he's all too familiar with these sudden assaults of intimacy to fight back. "No, idiot," he hissed, "I promised Jyuudaime I will make him lemon juice, and as his right-hand man I must keep my- Oi! Wh-What are you...?"
Yamamoto ran the tip of his tongue gently across the vulnerable ear. "Helping you clean up," he responded,
a blissful smirk hanging in place.
Gokudera's shoulders tensed up at the feather-light tickles, resisting unconvincingly in a cracked voice, "Stop it..." His grip on the unreasonably abused fruit slackened. "We still have to make..."
"Then let's quickly get it over and done with," Yamamoto mentioned. He put on a smile as his other hand travelled tenderly along the length of Gokudera's white ones, landing on top of his hand with fingers interlaced like lovers should.
Gokudera's ears suddenly felt neglected now that the moist tongue ceased its lapping. It felt cold, but now's not the time to bathe in selfish personal indulgence. Jyuudaime needed his lemon juice, and he's going to get one
Resting his head on Gokudera's shoulder once more, Yamamoto suggested, chuckling like an amused baby, "If you're really that disappointed, I don't mind doing it again."
Gokudera sulked and was busy coming up with an intelligent retort about reading his thoughts when he dominant hand meticulously guided his own. Yamamoto's fingers slid down between the gaps of his fingers, and softly gave it a delicate but skillful squeeze. The juice came running down obediently, some wild streaks racing down their arms.
Gokudera dumped his previous plan aside, and started to contemplate if this was a good idea, on it being a faster way to learn. He examined the technique, not using brute force but rather, the position of the fingers as they squeezed to ensure a- "Ah!" A sudden outburst eluded out of his throat, his spine straightening sharply. "Oi... St-Stop..." His words never did manage to come out this time. "Nn..." His chin lifted up, eyes shutting.
The restless limb that clung onto his taut waist had travelled upwards, trailing about every detail of the torso they memorized, and halted in front of his chest. The nifty fingers found the spot, that wonderfully weak and honest spot on the chest he loved so much, and began its swift and teasing massage.
The small, involuntary twitches on his fingers were overshadowed by the expanding ball of heat particularly in the region between his legs. His breaths grew irregular, caged inside his windpipes. Despite all these, the tormenting finger continued its mission, wiping teasingly in circles around the solid bud, the pressure light but substantial over the old cotton cloth.
"I-Idiot. Th-This is... goddamn... unhygienic..." Gokudera panted, on the verge of being stripped of his ability to construct proper sentences. "Jyuudaime... doesn't need other... juice... damn it."
Another chuckle fanned Gokudera's pores. "Who's the one who taught me to multitask?" Yamamoto pointed out, continuing to exert crushing force on the lemon, until its dried flesh began flaking into the cup.
Gokudera silently cursed at the idiot being such a smartass at the worst of times. He's always wondered if Yamamoto was really a genius in disguise, or in other words, a really devious pervert.
Yamamoto tossed the tortured lemon away, and gave an impatient "now you try." Gokudera bat opened an eyelid, stretching his arm for the bowl of fruit. His almost strengthless hand had just met with the rough skin of the lemon, when sticky, slick skin brushed across his bare flesh underneath the shirt.
Nimble fingers caught the helpless nipple between them, and gave it a soft but sharp pinch. A yelp eluded out of Gokudera, slamming both his elbows onto the tabletop when his knees gave way. As he did he clenched his fist, letting arrows of lemon juice squirt everywhere, staining his shirt, crashing onto his neck. The wet, sleek juice drew a trail along the crook of his neck until they gathered for a brief moment in the hollow of his collarbone, and began their descent down his body again.
Yamamoto's lips ghosted over the bare, porcelain neck. He parted his lustful lips, and slathered his saliva all over the sweet area with his wanton tongue. He licked up all of the drying shadows of the sweet juice on his smooth neck, wondering if lemon were supposed to be sweet, or was it just Gokudera.
Meanwhile, his right hand crawled to where Gokudera's slackened jaws were, and spread the thin layer of juice on his fingers over his full lips, coating the Italian's sensual lips with a film of aroma. And that wasn't without reason, because the next second, Yamamoto, with a quick withdrawal of the hand inside and the agile flip of his waist, had Gokudera's upper body lying on top of the table. Gokudera barely had time to voice out his thoughts, when the taller man came crashing down onto the enticing mouth.
Yamamoto liked the syrup-like feel of the essence on Gokudera's cherry blossom lips. They made soft, almost inaudible popping sounds as Yamamoto planted many butterfly kisses, letting the soft flesh adhere to his mouth, before peeling off with a delightful reluctance induced by the juice. Midway, Yamamoto's wet tongue slid out like a snake hunting for its prey, wiping across their lips, helping to separate them and tasting the sweetness on Gokudera's mouth.
From then on, the kissing escalated to sucking. The swordsman's tongue swiftly brought in the plump lower lip, nibbling lightly on it, suckling gently on it and licking so hungrily. None of them realised that in the heat of the kissing Gokudera was laid onto the kitchen table, head propped against the metallic tap of the sink, being trapped on both sides by Yamamoto's long legs.
Gokudera's hands, as if being pulled by invisible strings, rose, sneaking under Yamamoto's shirt and up along his broad back, spreading minute trails of lemon juice along the pores of the olive skin.
Yamamoto decided to do likewise, peeling the T-shirt to his shoulders and then lapping up the drying prints on collarbone. One of the wild streaks slithered down right to the pink blossom on Gokudera's chest, and Yamamoto gladly circled around the hardened bud, leaving no droplet of juice left, not even in the slit of his delicious, tender flesh.
Gokudera's back arched as he tried to swallow the moan that was forcing its way out. Yamamoto lapped even more delightfully as his chest was raised, giving him more access to the savoury heat. Yamamoto hooked his thumb under the elastic waist band of his lover's sweat pants, and then dragged it along the soft, creamy skin, and then leaving it strapped at where the knees were bent.
Trickles of the sour juice streamed down along the surface of Yamamoto's back and hesitated upon reaching the end of his body, before taking the plunge and splashed on a small scale onto Gokudera's heaving abdomen. The other more erotic streaks collapsed onto Gokudera's erection, the minuscule pressure making the silver-headed boy feel even more unbearable.
"Ah, Gokudera, you've gotten dirty again," Yamamoto said, peering down at the rosy length with impatience. He wet his lips with saliva, sliding down to position himself in front of the coarse, shiny silver hair. Gokudera's hands fell out from beneath his shirt as he did, landing onto his flat stomach instead. The Japanese pulled the fabric of the grey pants down from the right side of the knee. Gokudera bit his bottom lip, eyelids almost shut in the midst of the pleasure while he removed his leg from the hole of the pants, straining his neck to see through slitted windows his rock-hard erection, all red and moistened with gleaming juice of both kinds, and Yamamoto's raven-black spiky hair.
Cold fingers grabbed on firmly to Gokudera's slender waist, as he felt hot breath enshroud his throbbing sacs. Yamamoto kissed the heated skin. He plastered his swollen lips onto the smooth skin, dragging them across the curves of the sacs. Gokudera winced in the gratification, twisting and running his hand through his hair, letting groans be heard among the wet, squishy sucking sounds.
A whine eluded from Gokudera's throat when the narrow tip of Yamamoto's tongue grazed along with his kiss. So Yamamoto lapped up the juices again, so tasty and sweet, cleaning up every area, every inch.
"Oi," Gokudera's cracked voice came in the midst of the soft moaning. "You bastard, what about there..."
Yamamoto simply smirked at him, the honey-brown refelction of his eyes beaming with mischief.
The Italian found his words to be ignored soon when his desperately shaft continued being neglected. Impatience was gnawed at Gokudera as ferociously as the heat was growing in him. "Che..." Gokudera weakly scowled, as his thin lips pressed tight into an awkward line, his white cheeks now bursting with redness. He shut his eyes as his thumb ran over the flesh of the lemon, collecting its juice, before tossing it aside. A creased formed in between his eyebrows as his long fingers wrapped around his length, and began rubbing it, relieving the intolerable itch.
He pumped on it, creating as much friction as he could. The slick sensation of his cum fused with the thin membrane of the juice, rubbing harder and harder, faster and faster, flicking his dirtied thumb over the slit overflowing with white liquid.
"Ah, Goku-nn-dera," Yamamoto called out, alternating between licking and each syllable, "You are as... nn... dirty as you said... nn... I am after-nn-all..."
Gokudera hissed through clenched teeth, "Sh-Shut up. I'm not as dir-dirty as you nn...!"
"Ne, Gokudera... I don't... ahh... think I can take it any... haa... more too..."
With that, Yamamoto ceased his attack and straightened his back, his famished shadow draped over Gokudera's shivering physique, as he slid down his pants just enough to let free his own swollen erection. Gokudera watched as he pressed both their hardened members together, and grinded them hard. Milky white liquid cascaded along the contour of the bulbs, mixing with each other's trails at where skin met skin. Squelching sounds were weaved with breathless pants and gasps.
Yamamoto's trembling knees collapsed as he fell over Gokudera, using his forearm as support to keep him from crashing into the smaller boy. Their faces were very close together, the tips of their noses touching if Yamamoto had not aligned his face a little more to the right. Gokudera glared feebly at him, "You... are despicable..."
Yamamoto smirked, his lips quivering as he did, "No... I am... haa... enjoying..."
"Che," another scowl briefly marred Gokudera's face, as he gathered his remaining drops of strength and crashed his lips into Yamamoto's, locking both of them into another intense battle of the tongues.
Yamamoto's fingers slid from Gokudera's sweaty cheeks downwards, until he dipped into the cum that dripped down along the patch of skin between Gokudera's crotch and ass, until he reached the ring of muscle, contracting and relaxing with each pump of the owner's hand.
Gokudera's hand slammed against the side of the table, when the Japanese's finger slid in and out effortlessly due to the body's secretion. The tip of the finger reached in, feeling about the insides of the hot walls, until his injury-ridden knuckle kissed the rim, and drew out again. Gokudera's legs unwillingly spread out even wider and raised themselves, until they were almost parallel with the table.
Suddenly, Yamamoto stopped everything, the grinding, fingering and kissing. Gokudera breathed heavily for a few more seconds as he heard Yamamoto's clothes shuffle over him. He flipped open an eyelid to peek. He found himself facing Yamamoto's member between his kneeling legs, its liquid dripping onto Gokudera's chin, much to the latter's chagrin.
"H...elp me with that... won't you..." Yamamoto instructed over his shoulder, and bent down, sticking out his tongue. "And I'll help you with... this..."
Thick, powerful tongue muscle penetrated the entrance, swiping around his boiling insides. Gokudera threw his head back, before quickly clutching roughly onto the solid shaft, and slipping it into his mouth.
"Since when did... nn... Gokudera... get so good at.... this...?" Yamamoto mumbled to himself, as he sought not to lose out to his partner either.
Gokudera's free hand found the lemon he threw away earlier. Instinctively he grabbed it, for whatever reason he did not know. Unknowingly he brought the lemon to his chest. He gave it a very mild test. It still seemed full and plump, juicy and contented.
Yamamoto was straying away from the sweet hole and circling around areas of skin where cum is still evident. He was supposed to be cleaning up Gokudera after all. Then, he tasted it; the sour essence mixed with sweat and heat. As he lapped up more and more the sour taste grew stronger, almost as if he was drinking directly from the lemon itself, with a concoction of other wonderful juices.
He then realised that the deep well of the pink hole was dirty again. So he sneaked back in, enjoying the new, mouth-watering taste of the enticing cocktail named Gokudera. He could feel his own erection harden somemore, if that was even possible, in Gokudera's humid mouth; and Gokudera's ebbing ring spasming against his tongue. The sour flavour was beginning to fade away too.
"Come on, Gokudera... Squeeze harder..."
Gokudera twisted the fruit, smashing it into a pulp in a matter of seconds, as he felt the ticklish droplets cascade down the contours of his stomach and down beneath his coarse and unkempt silver hair. Yamamoto, on the other hand, felt Gokudera's walls squeeze his tongue, like a stubborn army trying to trap the invader inside.
"-moto... I think... I'm coming..." As he spoke Yamamoto felt his member being grazed by the sharp, pearly-white teeth. The next second, he had boiling white fluid squirted all over his face, accompanied with the Italian's heavenly moans.
As Gokudera groaned his head raised, until the back of his throat felt something was suffocating inside him. Yamamoto felt the soft vibrations from Gokudera's moans. Then, the shorter boy had thick, gooey fluid wash down his throat, and he swallowed every single drop, until the slit was clean. Yamamoto, too, lapped up every remaining drip of the secretion, albeit still being a bit wobbly.
When they were done, the rain guardian crawled back up to face Gokudera, peering deep into the depth of the emerald green eyes, coated with a sheen of tear. "Let's make... more lemon juice next time...okay?"
Gokudera decided he hates lemons from that day on.
A/N: Saa! Thanks for reading and I hope you guys like it! No penetration this time, thought I'd give these poor boys a break. But next time... *evil laughter*
Please tell me if this fic went down well with you guys, it's very appreciated!
P.S. A SM fic is also in the works. Please look forward to it!