A/N: Now, I know this chapter is abnormally long, but I thought it was time everyone had some good, clean fun. (Clean! Pffftttt.) The story is nearing its conclusion, and I needed to throw something like this in here. And by this I mean…
SHOUNEN AI! YAOI! SLASH! BOY-ON-BOY! A bit more than usual. I fear I'll need to change the rating of this story after I post this chapter. Maybe not. Borderline. Anyway, consider yourselves warned.
After reading so many wonderfully written massage scenes in various fandoms, I've wanted to try one myself with these two, so here's my attempt. A little present, heh heh… I think I'll shut up and let you read now. xP
Yzak was sprawled atop Dearka's bed, waiting for the blonde to return home from the store. His head reeled with the weight of everything that had come to pass within the last two days. The Natural had left a good ten minutes ago, claiming she had errands to run before returning home. The silver-haired male wondered why she didn't stay to wait for Dearka, but then concluded that she felt as worn as he did.
"I'm sure he's not done discussing what he called me over for," she'd shaken her head helplessly, "But we'll have to talk another time."
When she'd left, Yzak had suspected it had been her goal to leave the two of them alone. He'd kicked the leg of the coffee table the moment she'd shut the door. He didn't need some stupid female playing matchmaker, thinking she was being noble by sacrificing her own feelings. Now he cursed himself internally, wishing he'd refused her offer of assistance with the Blue Cosmos incident. He couldn't even remember what had made him agree in the first place. And as far as he and Dearka were concerned, Yzak Jule had no idea how he felt.
Okay, so that was a lie. He'd decided at the park when he'd forced himself onto the blonde that he'd not bother anymore with scruples. He would avoid the foolish pain of helpless denial by acting on his lust despite where it took him. But was it just lust, or was it more? He'd not yet considered other possibilities. Anything other than simple physical attraction disgusted him. Anything deeper was dangerous territory. Love was a weakness, one he couldn't afford to venture close to. But Mir had hinted that Dearka felt more than lust for him.
With a quick roll of his icy eyes, Yzak decided she was crazy.
"I'm back," came the call from the living room, and Yzak didn't answer. Now he'd have to move. He'd been enjoying his sprawled position on the tanned male's bed, drifting between sleep and conscious thought with the familiar scent of strawberries wafting from the rumpled sheets. With a grunt he tried to lift his leaden limbs, but to no avail.
"Made yourself at home on my bed, have you?" Dearka leaned coolly against the doorframe, watching him. "Or did you have something else in mind?" The twinkle in his gaze was unmistakable.
"Very funny, Elsman." The Duel pilot groaned as he heaved himself to a sitting position.
"Go easy," Dearka warned, slipping through the door and shutting it behind him. "For all you know, you could still have a nice buzz going from the last two nights."
Yzak wanted to yell at him, but he feared the volume would only increase the sharp throbbing in his skull. "Why the hell are you suddenly in such a good mood?" he shot, annoyed. "Your girlfriend left already, you know. And if you keep grinning like that, hangover or not, I'm going to kill you, Elsman."
"How much did you drink, anyway?" The defiant grin widened deliberately.
"That's it, you bastard," Yzak threatened, but the moment he tried to move he fell back, dizzy. "God damn it."
"Here." Dearka tossed him the bad he'd been holding. The contents spilled out onto the bed when Yzak missed the catch.
The Duel pilot's eyebrow twitched in irritation. "And what am I supposed to take the painkillers with?" he demanded. He shivered as he remembered the way Miriallia swallowed them without a liquid.
"Get moving and get your own glass of water," the blonde suggested, kicking off his shoes and plunking onto the opposite side of the bed. "It'll do you good." He only let out an amused puff of air when the other Coordinator didn't move.
Yzak shuffled through the contents of the bag, searching but coming up dry. "Cold compress?" he asked.
"All out at the store," Dearka grumbled. Then he crawled to Yzak's side of the bed and scooped up something else. "But I got this instead. Should end up being the equivalent of making you feel better with a cold compress." Something about his words struck Yzak as suspicious.
The silver-haired male was skeptical. Dearka held it in front of his nose, and he had to squint and struggle through rocking, rippling vision to read the intricate label. He immediately paled.
"No way, Elsman. If you even try it I'll slam your head right into the floor." But he could already feel himself heating up with suggestive thoughts.
Dearka could see it in his minuscule shift of expression. "I didn't buy massage oil just to let it go to waste." The curl of his lips was positively mischievous. Yzak's heart fluttered, and he cursed himself in every language he knew.
"I said no."
Dearka's violet eyes glinted. "Afraid you'll like it too much?"
The caustic blonde had hit the mark on the nose. Yzak bit his tongue and glared. If he took up the challenge, he'd be playing into the Buster pilot's hands. Still, the assumption that he was scared angered him. Yzak never had been able to turn down a challenge.
"If you think I'm intimidated by you, Elsman, then you're dumber than I thought." He fought back a pleasant shiver as Dearka breathed seductively down the back of his neck.
"So does that mean yes?" The bottle opened and a fruity aroma floated through the air.
"Strawberry," Yzak observed, unimpressed. "Why didn't you get a flavor I like?" His shirt came off smoothly, and he shuddered as Dearka spread his sticky hands across his naked back.
"But didn't you know?" Dearka nibbled lightly at his neck from behind, pausing to lick a short trail up to his ear, where he whispered, "It's because of you that I like this flavor the way that I do." If Yzak had retained any resolve at that moment, it fled at the blonde's announcement, and fled even farther when Dearka started sucking on his shoulder.
"Before you have me entirely in your clutches," Yzak gritted, angry at himself for falling so easily into such an intimate trap, "Why don't you tell me what brought this on."
"Combination guilt for not taking quicker action at the park two days ago and an incredible yearning to taste you again after all this time."
Yzak nearly fell over in his haste to spin around. The answer had been far more direct than he'd expected. He wondered if he should make a crack about Dearka being in a hurry to unclothe him, but he clamped his mouth shut the instant he realized he wanted the same thing. Dearka knew it, and he placed a guiding hand on each of his shoulders to push him to his stomach, though not before delivering another steaming kiss to his neck that made Yzak shiver with delight.
"You'd better be good at this, Elsman." It was a last, weak attempt at keeping some semblance of control. "You know I hate when people touch me."
"Oh, I'm good at it," the blonde reassured him, leaning down and kissing with a gentle leisure the locks of silver hair that had settled by his cheeks. "And I know you sure as hell don't mind me touching you."
Yzak was fighting too hard to plough onward in his argument. Dearka had won.
The paler youth gave in with a growl. "Then stop talking and get moving!"
Dearka laughed. "Let's not be hasty," he murmured, spreading the warm, relaxing oil across Yzak's pale shoulders and down his spine. The silver-haired boy could feel the pain receding from his sore, tired muscles, the weariness draining completely. He at once became awake and rejuvenated, and much more aware of the tempting body above him.
Dearka's palms rubbed wide circles across his lower back, then his thumbs worked out minute kinks around his shoulder blades. The Buster pilot labored deftly, saying nothing as he slowly ridded Yzak of aches and pains the slighter male had not even been aware of. The simultaneous warm-and-cool sensation was driving him mad with pleasure. Yzak turned his face into the pillow and pressed his forehead against its edge, fighting the bolts of delicious ecstasy that shot through his very marrow. He had the feeling Dearka hadn't reached the dangerous part yet; he was sincerely trying to make him comfortable first, washing away the mishaps of the last two days.
Then the Buster pilot paused, presumably to add more of the sweet oil to his hands. Yzak couldn't help himself. The sudden withdrawal of the pleasant feeling irked him.
"Don't stop, idiot."
"You like it?"
The words were out of his mouth before he could control himself. "Hell yes." He did, however, make sure to deliver the line with his usual astuteness.
Dearka resumed, but Yzak didn't feel any stickier than he'd previously been. He realized that the real reason Dearka had stopped was to gauge his condition, not to get more oil.
"Bastard," he muttered darkly into the pillow, clenching his teeth as Dearka's routine grew slightly more erotic.
"What's that, Yzak?" The blonde pretended not to hear him, but the silver-haired youth sensed the sly smirk in his tone.
Dearka ran his strong, masculine hands across his shoulders in a teasing fashion, following through with deeper, more generous motions as his palms traveled lower. Yzak's back arched at the irresistible touch, and he fisted the sheets, ignoring the pain that bolted through his injured knuckles as a result. He'd been hurled into an abyss of the most sinful, wicked passion, and the sound of Dearka's nefarious chuckle made him want to set himself onto his tanned body like a hungry wolf.
The blonde read his thoughts with ease, adjusting as needed. He brushed lightly with fingertips in the places Yzak liked, massaged hard and mercilessly in the spots where he burned for the blonde to indulge him. The burst of unrestrained lust he felt when Dearka slid his slick hands down the sides of his waist was unbearable. He wanted those hands everywhere at once, all over his shoulders and back, and down his sides and across his chest and tangled in his hair, but he dared not shift lest the current movement cease.
Yzak felt his breathing quicken, in time to accompany a jolt of passion that thumped in his chest and stomach. He bit down hard on the soft material of Dearka's pillow, holding in a cry of enthusiasm as Dearka's repeating motions became near to deadly erotic. Then the Buster pilot changed his pace to something slower and more subtle, and Yzak let out a low moan of pleasure that he could no longer contain.
"Hah," Dearka gloated.
Yzak cinched his eyes shut, but it wouldn't block out the numerous, naughty images that circulated before his eyes. "Shut up," he gasped, "Don't you dare stop now." Good god, he wanted it to never end.
"How bad do you want me at this point?" the opposite Coordinator teased, "Now I'm curious." It was then that Yzak realized the blonde was straddling him.
Dearka had shifted upward, positioning his hips just over the Duel pilot's lower back. His muscled thighs rested against Yzak's waist. The pale youth was sorely tempted to roll over and allow their hips to grind together, to pull the delightful body that hovered over him directly onto him and kiss his partner until neither of them cold breathe. He didn't. Instead another long moan slipped from his lips, and Dearka responded by sliding a hand around to his stomach in front and then down below the waistline of his loosened jeans.
With one hand on Yzak's narrow hip, Dearka pulled him onto his back, not caring about the strawberry scented oil that would sink into his sheets. Yzak let out a low sigh of desire as Dearka kissed him and their tongues mingled shortly. He pulled away with a seductive smirk and proceeded to slide a slick hand down the front of Yzak's jeans.
The Duel pilot's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected such a bold move after they'd been apart for so long.
"D-Dearka…" His eyelids fluttered, and the blonde slid up and down the length of his hardened member with unhurried poise. His free hand was tangled in the pale Coordinator's silken, silver locks. Yzak's body was afire with life, and the delicious presence of Dearka filled every one of his keen senses.
Finally he expired with a shudder of bliss. Dearka withdrew his hand and raised his coated fingers to his lips, where he licked them clean in a suggestive manner that made Yzak want him all over again. The blonde Buster pilot bent over him and delivered a deep kiss that seared him with its power. His own soft, pliant lips were assaulted by Dearka's pleasantly firm ones, and the tanned male bit down and sucked at his lower lip. The move sent tingles of sensation plummeting through each of Yzak's veins, and he felt the results of the kiss long after it had been cut short.
The pale Coordinator panted once his partner had finished. "Why didn't you kiss me like that the night we went to see the landlady?" Yzak inquired sarcastically. His ragged breathing had not yet returned to normal; he was still mad with desire. "If you'd kissed me like that I might not have been able to see myself out," he added.
"Next time I want to screw around on my couch in the dark, I'll remember that," Dearka quipped. Then to Yzak's confusion, he stood up and moved off the bed.
"I owed you that, Yzak," he said, making his way for the door.
Yzak hid his bafflement and instead chose to counter the other soldier's statement. "You mean you wanted me so badly you ran out and got massage oil," he scoffed.
Dearka's eyebrow quirked up. "Very funny." Then he opened the door and set one foot in the hall.
Yzak could contain his confusion no longer. "Where are you going?" he questioned, frowning.
"Shower."
"What? What about…" he trailed off, suddenly shy and unwilling to inquiry about the status of his former lover.
Dearka gave a wink and shrugged. "It'll be okay. Get some rest." He shut the door quietly as he exited.
Yzak flopped back onto the bed and fixed his blue orbs on the ceiling, feeling at ease for the first time in quite a while. But something nagged at him, something told him that his former theory about lust was lacking. He pressed the matter aside. Damn it, he'd just gotten everything he'd been yearning for — intimacy with Dearka after a long, unhappy dry spell. He ought to have been celebrating.
"Arrgh," the silver-haired Coordinator snarled, rolling onto his side with the intent of getting some much needed rest.