Washed Up

by Celianna

Five years later since they last spoke to one another, Momoshiro and Kaidoh meet up again under strange circumstances; washed up on an abandoned island. MomoKai. Roleplay.

23. Attempted Run

Washed Up

A/N: the big log!

Authors: Celianna (Momo) & Happiestwhen (Kaidoh)

Rating: M

Events leading up to this log:
- Set directly after the last log

Date: August 26, 2012

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Momoshiro is too distracted by the fish he's caught to pay attention to what's ahead of him. At the hut are Kaidoh and Hazue, but Hazue quickly dashes off before Momoshiro could even say hit o him. He's carrying a bucket, a bucket with live fish he's caught, and he's carrying it back to Kaidoh's hut. Fishing distracted him a little from his roller coaster feelings, but is doing little to keep his mind off of it now, especially when he finally looks up and sees Kaidoh, standing outside the hut, and he's looking at him.

And his heart does three little flips in his chest. He sucks in a breath and marches onwards.

"Hey," he greets Kaidoh, and walks right past him, going up the little steps and going inside the hut. "Got some live fish for us to eat later." He puts it in the corner of the room, and covers it with a towel to prevent the fish from jumping out. "And no, they won't have any eyes." Momoshiro snorts at Kaidoh's fish-eye phobia. He looks at Kaidoh's side of the room, at the scribbles on the wall, and the dark smudged spot that used to be a fish, and now looks like a devil with horns.

Despite staring at the wall in front of him, he can feel Kaidoh's presence. He's always aware of him now, hyper-aware, really. It's ridiculous. But Momoshiro can't help himself, because after yesterday, the talk with Hazue, Momoshiro is 99% sure that Kaidoh likes him. And he doesn't know what to do with it, nor does he know how to react to it. And he doesn't know whether or not this makes him happy, and that's kind of scary. He runs his fingers through his thick black hair and sighs; how many more days can he tolerate like this?

And wasn't Kaidoh supposed to be running now?

Kaidoh follows Momoshiro into the hut and stands there in the doorway, trying to form words. He's both surprised and relieved that his cheeks haven't been dyed permanently red from the conversation he had earlier with Hazue. In fact, his face feels kind of cold now, like he's freezing up, like the thought of asking Momoshiro to do something with him has turned him into an icicle. He's got his towel jammed into his pocket and both his hands clenched at his sides like he's steeling himself for a fight. They're shaking a bit. It's ridiculous. This would be so much easier if he could just punch Momoshiro and call him a dumbass, but according to his brother, that's not the best way to get his point across.

He clears his throat, in part to fill the awkward silence broken only by the sound of the fish leaping about in the bucket. He swallows. He can hear his heart thumping; the sound is intimidating. Here goes nothing.

"Wannagorunningwithme?" Kaidoh blurts, the words coming out in a rush, his voice too loud, almost like he's shouting it. His tone makes the words sound like the worst insult he could come up with, rather than a polite invitation. He looks sheepishly at the floor. He's really no good at this.

The sound of Kaidoh's loud voice was like a sudden thunderbolt in the silent of the night. Momoshiro lifts up his head, turning it slowly towards Kaidoh, like he's some kind of mechanical robot, and he clicks his neck into each teeth of the gear until he's looking over his shoulder, eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised.

"What …?" he asks. Momoshiro didn't quite understand what Kaidoh had said. Something about wannagoloogey. Or something. Maybe Kaidoh is spurting out voodoo nonsense. That still doesn't make it any less weird for him, because Kaidoh's at the doorway, standing there like an awkward fish, gaping for things to say. An awkward Kaidoh isn't anything new to Momoshiro, but now that he ... did all that … the entire week, he's sort of been overthinking each and every single action Kaidoh makes. Every time he speaks, Momoshiro wonders if he's hiding something, or can't get it out. Every time he goes running, Momoshiro wonders if it's because of him. Every time they fight … well, just how long can they go on pretending that it's just 'fighting'?

Maybe Momoshiro is just overthinking things too much. So he's almost figured out that Kaidoh likes him, but that doesn't change things, right? He liked him back in middle school, and that certainly didn't go anywhere.

Except that now it sort of is.

Momoshiro picks himself up and starts to walk towards Kaidoh. "Did you need something?" he asks. Which is weird, because Kaidoh rarely asks for anything. "Or are you complaining I got fish again? Look, there's only so much seafood out there that I can get!"

"There's nothing wrong with the fish," Kaidoh grumbles, although, if pressed, he could state a bunch of things wrong with fish, starting with the way they don't stop looking at you even when they're dead. It's disgusting. But he's getting off track here.

"I …" It's harder now that Momoshiro has moved closer, and Kaidoh had been hoping that he'd only have to say it once anyway, but since he'd ended up yelling instead of speaking, he'd have to try again. He hisses out a few sharp breaths to try and calm himself down so he can get the words out. "I was just asking …" he starts slowly, "… if you wanted to … uh, go running with me."

"Why, I didn't do anything wrong," says Momoshiro defensively.

"You—what? No, that's... Obviously you didn't do anything wrong, mo—Momoshiro. I just want to …" Kaidoh's fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. "I just want to … go running with you," he finishes quietly, as though saying it has drained all his energy.

"Oh," says Momoshiro like a stupid dumb gaping fish, much like Kaidoh was earlier. Then a second passes, and Kaidoh is still standing there, looking awkward. Another second passes, and Momoshiro throws his head to the side, and he rewinds what Kaidoh had just said like a videotape in his head.

"Oh!" he exclaims as he gets it. And then he's frozen. He stares at Kaidoh with a blank look.

Did he just … ?

Yes he did.

Don't overthink it, don't overthink it.

To hell with that—Kaidoh had just personally asked him if he wanted to go running with him. Kaidoh, that snake. That grumpy stupid dumbass who's been pushing Momoshiro's buttons lately, and it's all in the right places. Like he really is some stupid robot who will respond to each button pressed, to all the input he's been given. And right now, Kaidoh's pressed the start button.

"Yeah, okay," says Momoshiro, and all his muscles protest in shrill high pitched squeals. His voice sounds dumb to him, he probably looks really confused and lame as well. But what else can he say … ? Kaidoh never asks him to do anything, nothing at all. It's sort of a problem, sort of a really big problem that feels like Momoshiro's been kicked to the curb, and sometimes he can take it, and sometimes it hurts. Kaidoh never asks anything, he never starts anything, he never wants anything, he never goes out to seek Momoshiro and, well, do things with him. It's always been Momoshiro himself who is stuck to Kaidoh like he's his siamese twin.

But now Kaidoh is here, right in front of him, asking him to run. Of course he'll run. It doesn't matter his muscles feel sore and abused, and literally torn apart from his doubles matches. And so what he nearly passed out the last time he ran with Kaidoh. Kaidoh asked him—he wants something—and it's such a surprise, such a rarity, like he's stumbled upon this hidden treasure, that Momoshiro can't do anything but spread his lips into a stupid goofy grin. He immediately bites down on his lips and he pulls it into a scowl instead, which ends up looking bizarre. No, he can't show Kaidoh he's too happy about this … that's kind of weird. Yes, he's quite amazed at the request, and he's actually quite thrilled, and he wonders what made Kaidoh ask him in the first place, but he feels like if he draws attention to it, it'll break the magic, and Kaidoh will turn back into a pumpkin.

Or something like that. He had a great analogy in his head just now, but he's grinning too much to keep his thoughts on the right track.

Stupid pumpkin.

"Now?" Momoshiro asks.

Kaidoh smiles a little too, an almost imperceptible curl of his mouth, because his brother was right. Momoshiro didn't laugh at him or punch him or call him an idiot. No, instead he looks really happy. And for whatever reason, it was Kaidoh's words that made him happy. The realization makes a knot of tension untie itself in Kaidoh's stomach, makes his face unfreeze a bit, makes his heartbeat turn from an ominous thump to a light, hopeful skip.

"Now is good," Kaidoh says, but so as not to sound like he's forcing it, he adds, "I mean, whenever you want to."

It's crazy how contagious smiling can be, especially when Momoshiro notices Kaidoh is looking happy, lips slightly curled up, and Momoshiro is starting to look really stupid trying to suppress his own smile. It keeps wanting to explode into a big laugh, and something keeps bubbling in his stomach that feels pretty nice, and it's shooting up in his face, where his skin colour starts to turn slightly reddish.

Ah crap, trying to keep himself from smiling is making Momoshiro mush his face into a really weird expression, like he's curling his lips around like a moving wave, up and down, and now he just covers his mouth with his hand and looks away. This is weird. Happy and exciting, but weird. Like he's treading on new territory, and it's the first time he's seen this side of Kaidoh, so he's not quite sure how to respond to it.

"Yeah uhm, I can run now," says Momoshiro, and his voice breaks in the middle of it. This just embarrasses him even more.

Momoshiro scratches the back of his head with his other hand. "Didn't you just run though?" He can recognize Kaidoh's sweat from a mile away. If they would play hide and seek, Momoshiro would be a master at it just by whiffing Kaidoh out by his scent.

That's kind of gross. He should stop thinking about what Kaidoh smells like. Think about something else. Think about the fact that he's standing right in front of him, and he's asking him something he wants to do with Momoshiro. Kaidoh wants to do something with him. Kaidoh. With him. Kaidoh wants him.

And now his ears are turning red, great.

In an awkward sudden stumble, Momoshiro doesn't wait for Kaidoh's response as he rushes past him, climbs down the steps and takes out the red bandana out of his pocket and wraps it around his face. Yes, his face, because he seems to think that by covering it with red cloth, then Kaidoh won't be able to tell his face is red as well. Good camouflage. He really would be the master of hide and seek.

Kaidoh turns around and looks out the entrance of the hut. "Du—" He stops himself. But really, Momoshiro does look like a dumbass right now. Kaidoh should be allowed to point that out! He huffs. Maybe Momoshiro is just really eager to run. Maybe he's just really eager to run with Kaidoh. It's enough to make Kaidoh feel warm all over, the icy nervousness all melted away and replaced with something different, a crackle of anticipation.

"Are you ever going to learn to tie that on properly?" he calls, his voice low and gruff, but more amused than annoyed. He takes the steps two at a time until he's down on the sandy beach and catches Momoshiro by the shoulder. "I'll do it for you," he offers, completely unplanned. Maybe the being nice thing is getting to him.

Momoshiro takes in a deep breath, making the cloth cling to his face as he sucks it in. He breathes out, then slowly lowers it from his face. If Kaidoh thinks that this is the way Momoshiro ties bandanas to his head, he's going to punch him—he's not completely inept! And he's just about to fling an insult at Kaidoh, when he realizes just how close Kaidoh is, that asshole is right behind him. And he's offering to tie the bandana, an activity that Momoshiro secretly really likes.

Yet he can't seem to say anything, he's kind of turned to stone. Momoshiro doesn't know what to do with himself, because all these new fluttery and happy feelings are starting to overwhelm him, and it's like Kaidoh knows. As if he's doing it on purpose. What an asshole. But Momoshiro says nothing and he throws the bandana over his shoulder so that it hits Kaidoh's arm.

"Don't pull out my hair." He's got to argue with Kaidoh about something, right? Momoshiro bites down on his lips, and he hopes Kaidoh doesn't decide to walk in front of him so he can see that really strange expression he's making. He also hopes Kaidoh won't notice the tip of his ears are burning, and already the close proximity between them is making the hairs on his neck rise in response. Or maybe it's just in anticipation at feeling Kaidoh's fingers glide through his hair, and accidentally brush them over his neck, something which he has experienced quite a handful of times just a couple of days ago.

And Momoshiro is really hooked on the feeling. Damnit.

"Hurry up." Move as slowly as you can.

Kaidoh plucks the bandana off his arm and unfolds it. It still feels warm from being against Momoshiro's face, and Kaidoh takes a moment to run it between his thumb and forefinger before folding it and resting it on Momoshiro's head. Momoshiro feels really warm too, Kaidoh notices, or maybe it's Kaidoh's hands that are warm. In fact, everything just feels warm and nice, but Momoshiro said to hurry, so maybe he's impatient to get this over with.

It's kind of difficult to both hurry up and also avoid catching any of Momoshiro's hair in the bandana knot at the same time, so Kaidoh chooses the be careful and precise instead of hasty. He tells himself it isn't because he likes being close like this, because that would be weird. He just likes tying bandanas correctly. There's nothing weird about that.

He uses his thumbs to push the bandana against the sides of Momoshiro's head, his fingers grazing Momoshiro's ears in a way that makes Momoshiro flinch, until the cloth is smoothed back all the way to the back of Momoshiro's neck. Kaidoh uses one hand to hold the corners of the bandana in place and his other to gently swipe the hair off Momoshiro's neck. Momoshiro jerks a bit at the touch and Kaidoh grumbles and pulls on the bandana to get him to hold still. He presses the side of his hand against the back of Momoshiro's head to flatten the stray hairs out of the way while he ties the knot twice.

It really is like Kaidoh is doing it on purpose, Momoshiro thinks. But he's the one that started this entire mess, isn't he? He got Kaidoh to do it the first time, tying his bandana, and he kept pestering him to do it again and again because it's always fun getting Kaidoh to do something for him. And it might also be that Momoshiro's gotten used to the feeling. Or well, not used to it—it makes his skin crawl with ants whenever Kaidoh's fingers touch the back of his neck—but more like, he wants to get used to it.

And for Momoshiro, that's a pretty scary thought. But he's hardly able to think as Kaidoh stands so close to him, and his fingers are dancing around his head, and he feels warm, and kind of light headed; it's making him a bit short of breath. When Kaidoh just touches that right spot, grazes right over him, Momoshiro can't help himself but squirm away because the reactions he gets out of it are way too intense.

Over time, Kaidoh has gotten better at this, more in tune with how high the knot should be, and how tight. Even if that one day earlier this week, Momoshiro had somehow managed to keep getting the bandana pulled off; Kaidoh's pretty sure his tying jobs weren't at fault. It's becoming a routine for him, something that feels natural; not as natural when he ties it on his own head, but it's something he thinks he could get used to doing.

He checks the knot again, his thumbs pressed into the curve of Momoshiro's neck as his fingers tug at the ends of the cloth. It's just so Momoshiro won't have any excuses if it somehow falls off later. Not that Kaidoh would refuse to tie it on again, if that happened. And he wouldn't be refusing just to be nice, either.

"That should be good," Kaidoh says finally. He steps back from Momoshiro a bit, because it's a little weird to linger so close without some kind of reason.

Maybe Momoshiro had something weird to drink for lunch. Maybe he had met Inui when he went fishing, and he gave him some of his latest juice, and he'd forgotten about the entire encounter altogether. That's why he's feeling like his heart is racing in a marathon and going for first place. Like a little mini-Kaidoh running around inside of him on a treadmill, spinning 'round and 'round, and it's driving him absolutely nuts.

"Thanks," Momoshiro forces himself to say. Because saying something is better than saying nothing at all. He feels strangely uncovered and exposed, like he's been doing something that was meant to be done in private, and now here's Kaidoh, acting like his mom who walked in on him watching porn on his computer.

God that was embarrassing.

And Momoshiro doesn't want to feel embarrassed. He wants to turn that start button off Kaidoh had pressed earlier, because it's winding him up with far too much energy. That low current of electricity that keeps generating just because Kaidoh's fingers are brushing against his neck. And he keeps doing it, as if he knows. As if he's doing it all on purpose, just to mess with Momoshiro. Why else would he ask Momoshiro to run with him? Why else offer to tie the bandana for him?

Isn't it because he wants to mess with Momoshiro? Or maybe it's just all in his head, and all the blood rushing to it made him incapable of thinking straight.

So there's only one thing Momoshiro can do in this kind of situation. Where his skin is buzzing and feels tingly, and he can feel his shorts starting to tighten around his waist rather uncomfortably. He deflects it.

"You like doing this, huh?" says Momoshiro in his most arrogant voice. "I bet that's why you always offer to do it." Take away the attention from the fact that Momoshiro really likes it when Kaidoh does it, and turn it onto Kaidoh and make him feel weird for doing it. As Momoshiro sees it, it's all his fault anyway. He told him to hurry up! And didn't he tell Kaidoh before that his neck is sensitive?

Maybe Momoshiro should have shouted it instead and wrap it with a sticker that says 'do not touch!' on it. Maybe then Kaidoh would get the message.

Now it's Kaidoh's turn to feel all flustered. At least when he had something to occupy his mind (and hands), he could focus on just that, and try to avoid thinking about Momoshiro's head and neck and ears and how he was touching him all over, but now the bandana is tied and Kaidoh has nothing to hide behind.

"N-no," he sputters, his face instantly hot again. "No I don't." Kaidoh's pretty sure that's not the answer he's supposed to give—his brother would scold him for denying it—but it feels like the only safe thing to say. He doesn't want Momoshiro to think he's some kind of freak. After all, what kind of person likes tying bandanas on other people? "If you could learn to keep that bandana on your head by yourself then I wouldn't have to do it."

Momoshiro slightly turns his head to Kaidoh, and the energy is changing into irritation. "Like I even want you to tie it," he grumbles back. Which is a big fat lie of course, but how else can he respond to Kaidoh when he sounds like he's picking a fight with Momoshiro?

"I bet you glue yours on so it never gets off." And Momoshiro can't resist picking a fight with Kaidoh either. At least it's drawing attention away from the swirling feelings inside of him, and the less he thinks about his lower body, the better.

Kaidoh glares at him. He can't help it sometimes, his face just responds all on its own. "Don't be stupid, you've seen me with it off."

"No I don't," Momoshiro lies. He huffs and crosses his arms. "You only take it off—supposedly—when you go to bed. And guess what, I never see you go to bed, and you're always gone in the morning before I wake up."

That buzzy feeling finally quiets down a bit, because arguing with Kaidoh is always therapeutic to Momoshiro. He always knows what to do, fighting simply comes naturally to him. It's also a good distraction from other newer feelings that he's experiencing. He finally turns around completely to face Kaidoh. Then he puts one hand on his hip, stretches forward to shove his face into Kaidoh's, and with his other hand, he pokes Kaidoh's forehead.

"You use glue, definitely."

Kaidoh grabs Momoshiro's wrist to yank his hand out of his face. "Unlike you, I don't like putting weird gunk in my hair, dumbass." So the nice thing didn't last very long after all. It's Momoshiro's fault, stupid idiot.

"You need to get your eyes checked, Mamushi—I don't have any weird gunk in my hair," growls Momoshiro. He jerks his wrist back from Kaidoh's hold and reels it in, keeping it protectively close against his chest.

"And the last time doesn't count!" Momoshiro quickly adds, remembering the glitter gel.

"That time it seemed to be more in your eye than on your head," Kaidoh points out with a snort.

On instinct, Momoshiro grabs the collar of Kaidoh's shirt, and he pulls them both closer. That weird feeling he had only moments ago? Replaced by the urge to kick the shit out of Kaidoh.

"Why don't you say that again," threatens Momoshiro.

Kaidoh grabs Momoshiro's collar right back and pulls until their foreheads bump together. "You heard me, moron," he challenges.

In a swift second, Momoshiro's ankle is behind Kaidoh's, and then he shoves at his chest, causing him to lose balance, and Kaidoh falls backwards. He pushes even more until Kaidoh does finally trip over his foot and falls down, and Momoshiro dives right after him (he doesn't have much of a choice when Kaidoh insists on being an asshole enough to not let go of his shirt). It doesn't really occur to him that lately their fights have been escalating. Not in the sense that they really do beat each other blue, but in the sense that it intensifies the feeling that was rushing through him only seconds ago.

He blames it all on Kaidoh. It's all his fault. Liking him. He never asked for it. He didn't want to know (second fat lie of the day), Kaidoh should have just kept it to himself. Why does he suck at hiding things so much?

Momoshiro jabs his fist into Kaidoh's side as he struggles to pin him down into the sand. "Asshole," he says, and he means it. Kaidoh really is an asshole for making things change.

"You're the asshole," Kaidoh grinds back, because it's Momoshiro's fault. He's not supposed to be doing this. He's not supposed to be fighting with Momoshiro. His whole plan—or, more accurately, his brother's whole plan—is kind of falling to pieces here, because now Momoshiro is just going to think Kaidoh hates him and nothing will ever change and all the weird feelings will just stay locked up in the pit of his stomach forever.

Quick, do something nice. Kaidoh lets go of Momoshiro's collar. That doesn't feel right though, then he has nothing to hold on to, and they're already in the middle of a fight, so if Kaidoh backs out now, it will seem strange. He'll look like a complete coward. He grabs Momoshiro by the shoulders instead, trying to shove at him and push him away, or maybe pull him closer, down into the sand with him; Kaidoh's not sure. What's the right way to fight with Momoshiro now? Hazue would say he shouldn't be doing it at all, but it was stupid for Kaidoh to think he could agree with that. It's not something he can stop.

"No, you are …" Momoshiro stops and looks down at his shoulder, which Kaidoh is clutching. He's not shoving him away though. In fact, Kaidoh's not doing anything, it's like he's frozen to ice. That's kind of strange. Kaidoh's been acting strange period. He blinks a few times, trying to figure out what that snake is up to.

"... Didn't you want to run?" They haven't yet stepped a foot outside of the hut's perimeters.

Kaidoh loosens his grip on Momoshiro's shoulders. "Yeah," he says, a little embarrassed for getting so side-tracked. He feels like he's done everything wrong so far.

He scowls to try and hide the color in his cheeks. "You're going to have to get off of me if we're going to run."

Momoshiro makes himself comfortable on top of Kaidoh; he's not going anywhere anytime soon. "Why do you want to run anyway? You—" Momoshiro sniffs, "—already smell like sweat. I'm pretty sure you've been running for the past two hours." Momoshiro's hand, which had been holding onto Kaidoh's collar, now lets go of it, and he slides it up on Kaidoh's chest towards his neck. "Is there something in it for me?" Momoshiro asks with a grin. "Like that shiny golden medal which you got a few days ago …"

"I'm not giving you that," Kaidoh replies flatly, squirming a little under Momoshiro. He doesn't like being stuck under him for very long, especially not when Momoshiro is trailing his hand over him in a way that makes Kaidoh feel both chilly and hot at the same time. "I didn't see you running any marathons lately."

Momoshiro shrugs. "I ran for two hours. Long enough." He should be given a medal for that.

Kaidoh's eyes soften a little. "You didn't have to run that much," he says. Not that it wasn't nice to have someone else out there running with him, especially when that someone was Momoshiro, but Kaidoh can't bring himself to admit that. "It was really..." He fumbles for a word that isn't 'stupid' or 'idiotic'. "Unexpected," is what he settles on. Which at least doesn't sound like an insult, but isn't much of a compliment either.

"But you can get your own medal," he adds dismissively.

"Well," Momoshiro drawls out. "If you give me yours, then it'd be my own medal, no?" Then he arches back over Kaidoh, the hand now reaching for Kaidoh's throat—but he's not grabbing it. "If I run with you all the way, I think I deserve it." He's not even thinking about what he's doing, where he's touching, where he's rubbing, but his hand slips around Kaidoh's neck, so that the tips of his fingers can feel his hair, and his thumb rests on his adam's apple.

"Plus, it'll make me happy," chuckles Momoshiro. "Especially since we … well, yeah, lost." He sheepishly pulls his hand away and sits back up right on Kaidoh once more. "Sorry about that …" Wait, maybe that's why Kaidoh wants to go running with him; to distract him from their losses. Or maybe to cheer him up. Or maybe both.

"It wasn't your fault," Kaidoh says, his mouth scrunching into a frown. "It's just been a long time since we've played together." That and Kaidoh had other things on his mind besides tennis, which was less than ideal for a competitive match. But it was easier to blame the losses on them just being rusty.

"No, it was … but whatever. Next time I'll do better." Next time maybe Momoshiro won't keep looking at Kaidoh instead of at the ball. And maybe he won't be having weird fantasies in his head. And most importantly, maybe he won't feel mini-Kaidoh running in his chest. Is that ever going to go away?

But even now, as he's doing nothing nothing at all, simply sitting on Kaidoh—something which he's done too many times to count—and Kaidoh isn't doing anything either, it's still there like a constant humming source of electricity. They're not even fighting anymore; that irritation faded away a minute ago. They're simply talking to each other, and close, and those warm feelings are back, winding up bursts of energy. This is not how their fights are supposed to end. It's supposed to end with them completely out of breath, and their muscles are hurting all over, and they're lying down next to each other.

Well … Momoshiro's muscles are hurting, and his breath is quickening up. This is getting strange, but it's happened quite a few times before. Each time he's with Kaidoh, things just keep changing, it keeps escalating. It's not like the old days anymore, when fights were probably the easiest thing to understand. And now it's changed into … this … this whatchamacalledit.

And it's not like Momoshiro hates it either. But it's unfamiliar to him, it's all so new. Kaidoh feels new to him, like a different person. Like a person he can hang out with and talk to, and then fight every once in a while, which will inevitably lead to …

"Hey … hey, Kaidoh," says Momoshiro in a low voice. He leans forward, his hand pressing down on Kaidoh's chest to support his weight. "Do you …" Understand what this is? Think the same way? Feel the same way?

Is it because Kaidoh likes him?

Or is it because he likes Kaidoh?

"I …" Momoshiro's cheeks redden the longer he stays like that, the longer he stretches out the silence between them. No, liking Kaidoh is ridiculous. Sure, he'll admit to genuinely liking him, you know, as a person and whatnot. He's okay to be around. But liking him like ... like … his fingertips feel like they're thawing out after being out in the freezing cold for a while? Or how it still feels like his heart is spinning around? Or how he just can't seem to resist getting closer each time?

"What the hell are you trying to say?" It's weird to see Momoshiro grasping for words. Usually the problem is trying to get him to shut up. It makes a warm, fizzy tension coil in Kaidoh's stomach. Is Momoshiro nervous too?

Kaidoh curls his fingers into a fist and pushes it against Momoshiro's shoulder. "Idiot," he says.

With his other free hand, Momoshiro places it on top of Kaidoh's fist, grasping it in his own hand, but not as tight as he would have if he wanted to tear it away from his body.

"I had fun," says Momoshiro. And it's true. While ogling Kaidoh across the court the entire time, he had fun, despite losing spectacularly. "Together. Err, playing I mean. Yeah. We'll do it again, right?" He squeezes Kaidoh's hand lightly.

Kaidoh's hand feels like a jolt of electricity has shot through it. He feels tingly and good. He should be finding all this heavy and annoying and stupid, but it's starting to just feel … nice.

"Of course," Kaidoh replies, and then adds confidently, "And when we do, we'll win."

"Like the nationals?" Momoshiro smiles at him.

"Yeah," says Kaidoh, although he isn't sure anything can beat the triumphant rush he felt on that day. It's probably one of his favorite memories.

Momoshiro pries Kaidoh's fingers open from his closed fist, one by one, stretching them out so that he can brush his own fingers against his warm palm. "Yeah," he echoes. He subconsciously guides Kaidoh's fingers up from his shoulder, towards his neck, pressing his bony fingers against it, and keeping his own hand covering it.

And it feels good.

"We'll definitely win," says Momoshiro. He lowers his eyelids and stares at Kaidoh. He's starting to think he really doesn't want to be separated from Kaidoh. It's looking much more attractive to stay together, for as long as they can. When they go back home, when they're finally off of this island, Momoshiro is going to make sure he'll bother Kaidoh every day. That he can talk to him whenever he wants, pick a fight whenever he feels like it. And—Momoshiro nuzzles his chin against Kaidoh's knuckles—touch him whenever the urge rises up.

Kaidoh sighs. His breath hitches. His heart pounds. Maybe it's because Momoshiro is pressing on his chest, maybe it's because Momoshiro is holding onto his hand, maybe it's because Momoshiro is so close, maybe it's simply because Momoshiro is there in the first place. Kaidoh wonders if Momoshiro can feel it, Kaidoh's racing pulse and the heat emanating from his skin, heat that Momoshiro is causing. But if he does, Momoshiro isn't saying anything, isn't moving, isn't going away, so maybe he … doesn't mind. Maybe it's okay for Kaidoh to feel the way he feels. At least in this moment, it doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

He twists a little on the ground, the sand feeling scratchy on his back. He wants to roll them both over so he can be on top, so he can win this fight, but is this really even a fight anymore? Does there have to be a winner? And besides, Kaidoh doesn't want Momoshiro to let go of his hand, because he doesn't hate it; quite the opposite, really. It's a thought he never really expected to have. Obviously all of Hazue's weird suggestions are getting to him.

Kaidoh's fingertips brush against the strands of hair at Momoshiro's neck, against the cloth of the bandana that's tied over them. "Your hair is getting long," he observes, then his fingers shrink back and his cheeks go pink, because what the hell is he doing touching and talking about Momoshiro's hair? It's like he's getting too comfortable to remember to think, and he shouldn't really be comfortable with this in the first place. Why is Momoshiro making him want to say and do such weird things?

You like me, don't you?

That word keeps repeating in Momoshiro's head. Like. Like, like, like—like. Oh yes, he most definitely likes the very warm palm of Kaidoh wrapped around his neck; his fingertips actually toying with his hair. It's giving him shivers, steel cold shivers running along his arms, up to his neck, and back down again where his hand makes contact with Kaidoh's chest. Kaidoh's pulse is racing against his hand, and he's sure Kaidoh can feel his own leap against his palm, it's throbbing quite painfully.

"I know," says Momoshiro. He knows it. Knows that Kaidoh likes him again—or maybe he never stopped. The confusion from earlier this week ebs away, it's like a wave that crashed on him in surprise, and now it's slowly washing away, and he's left feeling drained, but refreshed.

Why is Kaidoh suddenly such an enigma to him? Suddenly everything seems so fascinating, everything is growing hotter; he doesn't want to get rid of this feeling. No it's … it's drawing him in. Is Kaidoh doing it on purpose? Does he know just what kind of response he elicits in Momoshiro? Because it's definitely not rivalry; he doesn't feel like beating Kaidoh, at whatever this is. He feels himself pull in closer to Kaidoh instead, and he tightens his grip on Kaidoh's hand, to force him to stay there.

Don't leave. Don't let go. Keep those fingers there that feel like they're injecting him with drowsiness, and yet at the same time it feels exciting. Like a drug he's hooked on, and he wants to do nothing but get more of it. He slinks his own fingers between Kaidoh's, and he can feel his own fast pulse throbbing against it. Kaidoh can feel this too. Maybe he noticed, maybe he knows it too, that Momoshiro is going a little bit crazy right now. It's probably the drug he injected him with.

The hand which was resting on Kaidoh's chest, now travels up, dragging his shirt along and making sure to apply even pressure to his body. Until Momoshiro is touching Kaidoh's neck in a similar way Kaidoh is touching his; he can feel Kaidoh's heartbeat even more like this. His fingers dig deeply against his scalp, hidden in his thick hair.

"Yours is too," Momoshiro breathes out, like it's the hardest thing to do on earth. "You should probably …" Move away. This is getting dangerous. This is treading into a scary territory that Momoshiro has no control of. He can't control these … these … feelings.

How is he supposed to? Kaidoh's right underneath him, and the slightest twitch or wiggle is making Momoshiro feel lightheaded, and the craziest thing is—he wants more of it. And now Momoshiro sighs too, his breath warm, and close to Kaidoh's face. When did he lean down that much? When did he entangle his fingers with Kaidoh's? When did he slip his hand behind Kaidoh's neck and start massaging it? It's insane, it's really insane, but he just. Can't. Stop.

Kaidoh looks back at Momoshiro, his eyes dark and open. "Probably what?" he asks. Without thinking, he's leaning into Momoshiro's touch, and the words seem to vibrate against his hand when he speaks. His voice is so low and quiet that it's scarcely more than a rumble in his throat. He can't seem to stay focused on Momoshiro's eyes to hold his stare, his eyes darting to Momoshiro's mouth, to the flare of heat on his cheeks, to their hands tightly entwined at Momoshiro's neck, to Momoshiro's mouth again.

What is he doing? What is Momoshiro doing? Why hasn't one of them broken away yet? Kaidoh tenses. Could it be that they are both thinking the same thing? He swallows, feeling scared and excited and alive. Has he really been missing this piece of the puzzle all along? Has it always been this simple? Kaidoh knew that many things were easy between them, but this? This … whatever it is … isn't supposed to be easy, too.

He lets out a long, shuddery hiss of air. "Momoshiro…" he says carefully, drawing out the sound. There's an edge to his tone that's like a challenge, as if to say, Do you know what you're doing? Because Kaidoh sure doesn't.

Momoshiro playfully teases Kaidoh by pulling a little at his hair. "Didn't we agree …" He leans a little bit closer, and there's this wicked expression on his face. "You'd call me Momo-chan?" His tone of voice is low, and flirty—and god he's being a tease, isn't he? He's teasing Kaidoh in a way he's never teased him before.

But it's surprisingly a lot of fun. Well maybe fun isn't the right word for it, not when Momoshiro is half scared out of his mind, and the other half is screaming something to him. He can't make out the words, but he does know it's got something to do with the way his body keeps on heating up. How he's subconsciously writhing against Kaidoh beneath him, squeezing his legs tighter around him. And how his fingers are rubbing softly up and down against Kaidoh's, playing with the fingertips, and making them graze against the skin of his neck. His other hand is preoccupied with pulling softly at Kaidoh's hair.

Yeah, it's probably got to do something with that. But he can't stop, he can only indulge this weird fluttery and liberating feeling. Like Momoshiro's been keeping it locked away all this time, and now it's threatening to come out—no, it's bursting to come out. If he keeps touching Kaidoh like this, and looking at him through his long eyelashes, at that face he's so familiar with, something is probably going to happen. Something is about to change.

Not yet rivals and not yet friends. There's an invisible line they're waiting to cross into something more than that.

"Right?" Momoshiro hums, and there's a playful smirk on his lips.

Kaidoh scowls, as though it will help to push down the bubbly feelings that are fizzing up inside of him like he's a soda can that's been shaken. "You agreed to that," he grumbles, because Momoshiro's breath is too warm and his voice and words feel dangerous. It's all a little frightening for reasons Kaidoh can't seem to pinpoint. Maybe it's because he doesn't know what happens next. They've already passed the point where things should stop, where they stopped every time before. But Kaidoh isn't sure he wants to now, which feels even scarier.

Finally Momoshiro lets go of Kaidoh's hand, his fingers untangling—he immediately misses and regrets letting go—and he arches forward until both his hands are dug deep into the sand, besides Kaidoh's head. And now his face really is dangerously close to the other man beneath him. Close enough that he can spot some very faded freckles scattered on Kaidoh's cheek. Strange, he's never noticed that before. Maybe it's just easier to spot them now since his cheeks are a rosy red. A lovely shade. Momoshiro wants to turn him even more red. It's fun teasing him like this, but he's also doing it for his own benefit. After all, it's not like he can stop himself.

"I seem to recall you agreeing too," Momoshiro says in a sing song voice. "It wasn't just a one-time thing only, you know."

"But—" Kaidoh starts, his face feeling hot. But it's embarrassing, he thinks. Maybe that's the point; to embarrass Kaidoh. Maybe it's what Momoshiro is trying to do with all of this. He's definitely trying … something. Whatever it is, it's working.

"But what? Prefer something else?" Aside from any insults such as dumbass, idiot, or asshole, or whatever. Momoshiro finally flicks his eyes away from Kaidoh, trailing down his nose and stopping at his lips. "Oh right, didn't your brother say I should call you Kaoru?"

"He says a lot of things," Kaidoh says, like that we should … He shakes his head. Stupid Momoshiro. He's making it hard for Kaidoh to do anything but lie there blushing right in front of him, right up close. So close. "Don't call me that."

As usual, arguing with Kaidoh always comes naturally to him. He never has to try or search for words to say, it simply tumbles out of his mouth. "Whatcha gonna do about it if I do?" he challenges back. Momoshiro makes a point to put more weight onto Kaidoh's body to let him know Momoshiro is still the one on top.

Kaidoh's hands, still at Momoshiro's shoulders, and now nearly crushed between their bodies, clench into fists again. "I'll punch you if you do," he warns, his voice sharp and pressurized. It's how he feels—under pressure. It's not just because he's got Momoshiro's weight bearing down on him.

And that's a challenge Momoshiro can't ignore. He slides his body forwards, lowers his head next Kaidoh's, and his lips almost brush the tip of his ear. He doesn't speak, not yet, because he's focused on his own breathing, and sort of concentrated on the fact that now everything is touching between them. And that's not something new, as they've always had a lot of body contact, but what's new is that Momoshiro likes it in a way that isn't because he's fighting with Kaidoh. It's giving him these weird and rather unfamiliar feelings.

The closest Momoshiro could probably describe them, is … pleasure. Because it's delightful, and he feels happy, and a little bit dizzy, but in a good way. It's those drugs Kaidoh injected him with, isn't it?

Momoshiro parts his lips, getting ready to say Kaidoh's name, to challenge him on his empty threat. How could he think about punching now? Doesn't he feel it too? This anticipation? This rumble in his stomach?

"Ka …" the first syllable leaves his lips, like a breath of warm air against Kaidoh's ear, "... o …" Momoshiro's heart seems to pump even faster now. This is such a thrill. He waits an agonizing three seconds long, in completely silence, not even breathing, before he spills the last letters. "Ru …" His lips curl up in a smug smile. "Heh."

Kaidoh lets out an audible shudder and immediately feels mortified. Asshole, he thinks, but can't seem to say anything, can't find the words to growl back an insult, can't even seem to move his fists to hit the stupid idiot in the face. His voice has completely dried up. In fact, his whole mouth feels dry.

That reaction was something more than Momoshiro bargained for, and it clicked something into his mind. It removed any hazy fog he's had inside of his head, and now he can think a little bit more clearly. For one, Momoshiro realizes he's hogging Kaidoh's entire body, and he's doing it on purpose, and because he likes the friction of their bodies. And he really doesn't want to pull away. Second, his lips are so dangerously close to Kaidoh's ear, he wonders if he was about to try something based purely on his … on these …feelings.

Yet he's not moving away, he's not even making an attempt to. Momoshiro likes this position very much, and these new and exciting feelings are a lot like adrenaline, and that doesn't just die down. And suddenly he finds himself wanting to simply grab Kaidoh's entire body and feel it up against him. Tighter, closer, everywhere.

Those are not the kind of thoughts or urges Momoshiro should be having.

Luckily he shows some restraint, because if he doesn't hold back … he'll just lie on top of Kaidoh and … well … the snake actually has a rather pretty slender neck … it's attractive. He sort of wants to touch it, but his hands are holding him up from crashing into Kaidoh. Then there's another thing Momoshiro has to keep in mind, his strength seems to be slipping away; all his muscles are already sore, and it hurts to support his own weight for this long. Not to mention that he's starting to shake. Whether it's from holding himself up, or because Kaidoh's shivering below him.

This is seriously getting dangerous.

"Ka …" Momoshiro starts, but he finds his own voice scratchy, and stuck in his throat. What was he going to say? "I …" Something … about this. About this entire thing. Why is he doing this, and why is Kaidoh allowing him? Weren't they supposed to be running? He takes in a sharp breath, his eyes fixated on a certain spot on Kaidoh's neck, and he's trembling even more now. Any second now and something will snap, and he'll collapse right onto Kaidoh. "I can't …" Take this anymore? Hold back anymore?

Get out while you still can, Momoshiro wants to say. But he finds it difficult to even breathe, let alone form words—or even a complete sentence. This madness keeps swirling inside of his head.

Kaidoh moves one hand up between them to cover his red face, and puts the other flat against Momoshiro's chest, like he's warning him not to come any closer—can he even get closer?

"I told you not to call me that," he says guiltily, voice nearly a whisper, but even he couldn't have predicted that reaction. And now Momoshiro is seeing far too much; Kaidoh is too exposed. There's nowhere for him to escape.

Momoshiro's not listening. He moves away from the side of Kaidoh's head, moving over the hand that is trying to hide his face. Damnit, he can't stop shaking. He leans all his weight on his right hand, and uses his left to cover Kaidoh's. He wraps his fingers around Kaidoh's warm and sweaty one. Or is he the one that's sweating? Slowly, he tugs at it, trying to move it away from Kaidoh's face.

What are you hiding?

Kaidoh doesn't offer up much resistance as Momoshiro pulls his hand away from his face. And now Momoshiro has a really good look of messed up he is. It reminds him of the day before his birthday, when he took that picture, Kaidoh sort of looked the same back then. Frazzled, confused, shocked, and there's this other expression he can't quite nail. But he's sure it matches his own expression.

He really shouldn't …He really can't … But Kaidoh isn't pushing him away. That hand on his chest is doing nothing but send jitters down his entire body, setting him on fire in all the right places, in all the right spots, and it's simply making Momoshiro want to do it more.

Do what more exactly ... ?

Tease Kaidoh some more?

It's way beyond that point right now. Momoshiro's control is slipping, and his body is dipping lower to Kaidoh's, and he's putting his fingers in between Kaidoh's again, and pinning it down in the sand above his head. But his grip isn't strong, Kaidoh could move and get out anytime he wants. If he wants to, but with a face like that … with eyes like those that are holding secrets, waiting to spill—Momoshiro doesn't think Kaidoh's going to stop him. He doesn't know what's come over him, he's never felt this way before, nor lost control this much.

Kaidoh's eyes are wide now, a bit frightened, completely alert and aware. What are you doing? he thinks frantically, not sure if the thought is directed at himself, or Momoshiro, or perhaps both of them. What are they doing? He can feel every touch of Momoshiro's body against him like it's a shock of static electricity; the intensity of it is overwhelming. He doesn't know what to do.

He twists his fingers against the front of Momoshiro's shirt, to try and show he's serious, that he's not going to … that he won't … that with whatever this is, he's not going to crumble. Then why is he grabbing onto Momoshiro like a lifeline instead of shoving him away? His lips part and a shaky hiss rattles out of his throat. When it comes to Momoshiro, why does he even bother with why anymore?

Something snaps; rigid muscles unfreeze, and Momoshiro dips his body lower with a shaky groan.

That sweet sweaty scent is engulfing Momoshiro, and he loses his focus, he loses his entire goal when his nose bumps against Kaidoh's as he ever so slightly puckers out his lips. Their dry lips connect, though slightly off, and a spark is ignited between them. A humming dangerous voltage of electricity is shooting down all his nerves, making him shiver all over, and he keeps blinking in and out of focus. Their lips are ... He shudders, he breathes out a weak gust of air; it's enough to finally make him lose all his strength, and he sinks through his elbow with a muffled yelp, and suffocates Kaidoh with his entire body. The sudden movement makes Momoshiro slip away from Kaidoh's plump lips, the connection between them broken, and it's quiet for a brief moment until nausea settles inside of his stomach when he realizes just exactly what he did.

Lips still tingly and parted, face thoroughly flushed with red, he gives Kaidoh this fearful, wide-eyed look. What did he do?

Maybe he can still say it was just an accident. That it wasn't spurred on in the heat of the moment, and he simply ... fell on his face. Say something Momoshiro. Anything. Stop gaping at him. Stop feeling!

Kaidoh stares back at Momoshiro and feels like he's functioning in stop-motion, like he's seeing things move frame by frame, not getting the whole picture all at once. He blinks once, then again, as though it will make things clarify, but it doesn't change what just happened, and it doesn't change the way Momoshiro is looking at him. Is this what it's like to have glitter in your eyes? But this doesn't hurt, doesn't feel bad at all. There's just a strange, unfamiliar shiver creeping across his lips like they've been stung.

It takes Kaidoh a moment to realize that he's actually shivering all over. It's not just his mouth. His whole body is shaking, his heart feels like it's pounding in every part of him, a deafening throb of excitement, of terror. He feels flooded with feelings, with cravings he didn't even know he ever had. He wants to … he wants to … His eyes slide to Momoshiro's mouth, and then he hastily looks back up at his eyes, like he's revealed a dangerous secret. The secret is that Kaidoh liked it. He's scared, but he liked it.

His arm is still crushed between them, still tightly gripping Momoshiro's shirt. Maybe even more tightly now. The muscles are going to fall asleep if one of them doesn't move, so Kaidoh unfurls his fingers, and slides them up Momoshiro's chest, watching Momoshiro as he does, scared that Momoshiro's scared, but maybe comforted too. Kaidoh isn't the only one who's terrified. When his hand reaches Momoshiro's neck, he stops and blinks again, then slowly slides it around him, his thumb pressing against the skin there so that Kaidoh can feel Momoshiro's pulse leaping wildly.

He's starting to feel like he understands a little more why Momoshiro is doing all this. Maybe. Maybe he didn't mean to, maybe Momoshiro is just really that clumsy, but the way Momoshiro is looking at him makes him think … maybe not. That just makes Kaidoh's lips tingle even more, the thought that it could have been deliberate. The thought that Momoshiro wanted to. Just like Kaidoh wants to now.

If only to delay them having to acknowledge it. If only to avoid talking about it. If only to stop Momoshiro's silent staring. Kaidoh doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't know how to talk about it. Kaidoh doesn't use words, he uses actions.

So his hand snakes back around Momoshiro's head to the place where his shoulderblades meet, and he presses, pushes, draws Momoshiro closer until he has no choice but to press his mouth against Kaidoh's again. The tingle at Kaidoh's lips seems to multiply, until his whole face is buzzing with energy.

Don't you dare pull away, Kaidoh thinks desperately, narrowing his eyes at Momoshiro in challenge. Don't you dare pin this all on me, dumbass. You started it. He's unable to stop the instinct to glare at him, as though it will outweigh everything else his body is doing, all the other signals he's sending that say he's not angry at all.

And Momoshiro isn't pulling away at all, he's sort of stunned, like Kaidoh pressed the pause button on him, frozen still at the overwhelming throbs rushing through his body, pulsating fast from Kaidoh's mouth against his. From all the places Kaidoh is touching him—voluntarily—it's giving him a bad case of the wiggles. The spot on his back where Kaidoh's hand is holding him down feels like he's been dipped into steaming hot liquid. He feels like squirming, he feels like taking in a million breaths, but can't, he can't what with their dry and ocean tasting lips pressed together.

And they're really warm … really comforting …

There's a shock in Momoshiro's mind, and suddenly he boots back up, he starts to move, he starts to act—acting on all these hormones swirling around in his stomach. Fingers tighten around Kaidoh's, pushing him deeper into the sand, as if it will somehow keep himself from falling deeper into this void. But he kind of likes it, he kind of really likes it. Momoshiro takes in a muffled breath through his nose, and his eyes finally close after staring at Kaidoh cross-eyed for way too long, then he presses down, his lips forming around Kaidoh's.

It's never felt like this before, and Momoshiro would have probably started to compare, if he weren't so involved with it. There's not much space left in his brain to think about what he's doing, he just … does it. Because this is Kaidoh, and he's making him feel all kinds of crazy, and while his lips are dry, and taste like the ocean, and there's even some sand on them, it's probably the most addicting feeling Momoshiro has ever felt before. He wants more. More.

A sigh, or maybe just a really low moan, climbs its way up from his throat, and he parts his lips, they scrape down against Kaidoh's like sandpaper, eliciting all these weird reactions from both himself, and from Kaidoh. With their bodies now so close, so molded with each other, he can feel Kaidoh shake, or maybe that's him, he's not quite sure. But he does know he ends up, in a quite subtle manner, moving against Kaidoh's body below him. Their shirts cling and wrinkle up, his arms touch Kaidoh's bare shoulders, and his groin is sort of digging into Kaidoh's.

Yes, more.

Momoshiro tilts his face a bit to the side, and plants his lips back onto Kaidoh's, while at the same time using the tip of his tongue to trail against Kaidoh's bottom lip. Those lips he's always wondered about how it would feel like to kiss, and now he's actually doing it. Ah, it's seriously mind numbing. He feels the irregularities, the unique dents in the soft flesh, but he smoothes them out with his own saliva until they're moist, and Momoshiro is back mushing their trembling lips together again. Blood is drawn forward as Momoshiro sucks with all his willpower. In doing so he can feel his legs turn into jello, and his arms feel heavy, his entire body feels heavy, and it's like he's got this fever that's making him act on things he would have never acted upon before.

Like kissing Kaidoh Kaoru.

But who cares—it feels amazing. Like something he's been waiting for all this time, like an overdose of a sugar rush, like eating a million burgers. And Momoshiro is not about to pull away and let go. He grinds his body more forcefully into Kaidoh's, moving in directions that are very pleasing and exciting, and are keeping him short of breath.

Kaidoh lets out a sharp, short breath against Momoshiro's lips, feeling dizzy. His blood seems to be suddenly pumping at an accelerated rate, like it's trying hard to catch up with the rest of him. It pounds at his ears, it races through his chest, it thrums low in his stomach.

His fingers dig into the fabric of Momoshiro's shirt, almost like he's clinging to him for balance, as though he can somehow preserve the pretense that he can regain control of himself, of Momoshiro, of the situation. He flexes his ankles, feeling his toes curling in his sneakers. He squeezes against Momoshiro's hand. He arches his neck up so he can press his mouth harder against Momoshiro's lips. His whole body arches with it. Every part of him is responding to Momoshiro, wanting to push closer to him. Kaidoh thinks it must be the weirdest urge in the world, and if he weren't so completely wrapped up in it, he'd remember to feel humiliated.

The way Kaidoh curves into his body, rubbing everything Momoshiro can imagine, is sending his brain into ecstasy. It's making all his sore muscles contract like a guitar string being pulled too tight. And his shorts are getting way too tight.

Momoshiro grunts in the back of his throat, and immediately regrets letting embarrassing noises escape from him. Then Kaidoh will know, that he's really enjoying this. On the other hand, he's kind of kissing Kaidoh, and that shows it a lot more that he likes it. Stopping doesn't seem to be an option, not when everything feels so exciting and new, and sort of scary, and that warm rush is spreading from his fingertips till his toes. No, he can't stop … especially when Kaidoh is responding too. He's moving with him, albeit both are just fumbling their way through it, clumsy, inexperienced, a mix of nervousness and eagerness. But what's most important, is that Kaidoh seems to want it too.

Kaidoh wants it as much as Momoshiro. And just the simple thought of that, that Kaidoh is writhing below him and enjoying it, and pressing his mouth harder against his, it's making him shudder violently, and he wants to curl all his fingers against Kaidoh's skin. To reel him in closer—not leave an inch of skin untouched, the exciting burns that he feels when their bare skin makes contact. He's so addicted to it.

Their lips part, ever so slightly, trembling, wet, hot—Momoshiro takes a hasty jittery breath, his eyes now halfway open and staring at the red lips below him. He brushes his own against it, it feels so raw, and he wants to do nothing but to claim them forever. He's running on pure instinct and hormones now, his body reacting to each touch with a new twitch and an urge. Momoshiro takes Kaidoh's bottom lip in between his lips; it's so warm and soft—and who knew those lips could feel so good? He sucks it at first, before he unconsciously lowers his teeth onto it, softly, not hard, just grazing against it, imprinting it. He doesn't really know what he's doing, but whatever it is, it feels good.

Feels totally amazing. And once more, he grinds his body into Kaidoh, their chests shifting against one another, and he can feel his own lower region simply digging into Kaidoh's thighs. He can't stop it. Not even when he makes slight rotation movements with his hips.

His heart is beating a thousand miles per minute. It's all Kaidoh's fault. For doing this to him.

Kaidoh's hormones seem to be sprinting away from him, hormones he'd trained and tempered with years of running, hormones he thought were under control. He can't catch up with them, he can't stop the surge of feelings and sensations they're causing. Now it's like Momoshiro figured out the combination to unlock them and they're pouring out in a rush, completely unstoppable and ravenous. And Kaidoh is helpless to do anything but squirm against Momoshiro's body and pull him closer. He can't hold back. It's like he's forgotten how. All this friction, it feels like striking rocks together to try and make a fire.

There's so much energy between them, but beneath that flows an undercurrent of relief. Kaidoh feels like some kind of weight, heavier than any dumbbell, has been lifted from his chest and replaced with something else, something that's fluttery and exciting and weighs nothing at all. Momoshiro wanted this too. Momoshiro was waiting for this. Momoshiro wants to be here, with Kaidoh. He can't even articulate how it makes him feel; he's sort of lost the ability for coherence in general. He can only focus on breath and skin and muscles and Momoshiro's insistent mouth.

His lips have gone from tingling to thrumming. The feeling of Momoshiro's mouth against them is like a magnet, sucking them against Momoshiro's face with a power that's impossible to resist. He can't bother to struggle or protest. He wouldn't want to anyway.

When Momoshiro lets go of Kaidoh's bottom lip, Kaidoh takes it as an opportunity to return the challenge, and takes Momoshiro's lip between his teeth and tugs gently, his teeth dragging along the soft red flesh. Everything Momoshiro does, Kaidoh will reciprocate; it's how they've always been.

Then, while Momoshiro's mouth is still open, Kaidoh moves completely on instinct and slips his tongue inside. He doesn't know why it seems like a good idea, hell, he doesn't even know what he's doing—he lost track sometime soon after Momoshiro's body first ground against his seeking contact. All he knows is that he wants to be closer.

The second their tongues collide—and it is a collision, nothing graceful about it—all Kaidoh can register is a kind of zooming feeling from his mouth clear down to his feet, like the ground is falling out from under him. And, despite the way it makes his body jerk and shudder, he finds he isn't scared to let it happen.

Now this is definitely new territory for Momoshiro. Kaidoh's wet and extremely warm, and kind of squishy, tongue is inside of his mouth, and it's brushing against his. It's sending waves of pleasure down his entire body, like he's never felt before. He's getting lost in this feeling, in this groove. Like an untrained elephant, he crashes his tongue against Kaidoh, sloppily, wanting to gain dominance, and eager to return Kaidoh's actions.

It's an entirely new experience, one that Momoshiro likes all too well. His own tongue wraps around Kaidoh's, slipping underneath his, and he pushes it out of his own mouth, into Kaidoh's own hot and smoldering one. There he dips his tongue along Kaidoh's teeth, a sensation that is both a little painful but thrilling. It's all so slimy, and wet, and really hot, and kind of a little bit gross, but Momoshiro finds it's an extreme turn-on for him, one that he cannot stop. The texture of Kaidoh's tongue is so unreal, but it really does feel fucking fantastic. He doesn't really know what he's doing, much like Kaidoh, but when his hormones are dictating him what to do, Momoshiro finds that his tongue naturally moves along Kaidoh's, responding and reacting, expanding and contracting.

Momoshiro doesn't even realize the soft little gasps he's releasing from his mouth.

The hand that was holding up most of Momoshiro's body weight now sinks down, until he's leaning into the sand with his elbow, and resting most of his weight on a squirming and moving Kaidoh, who is rubbing him in places that feel way too good. Fingers reach for the ends of Kaidoh's bandana, and he slips it off, revealing dark brown hair that falls over Kaidoh's face. It doesn't take long before Momoshiro's fingers are lost in that hair, grabbing a fistful of it, wrapped around the back of Kaidoh's head, and pushing him closer so that there really is no empty space left between them. Nothing but a fiery hotness burning in his throat.

Momoshiro tugs at Kaidoh's hair, and he swirls his tongue around Kaidoh's in circular motions—in sync with his hips—then he pulls back a little bit, his own tongue sliding across Kaidoh's lips, until he's entirely out of it. Then he smacks his lips against Kaidoh's again, sucking and tearing at them in a more aggressive manner. It doesn't take long for his tongue to return inside of that warm goodness, and they're once more battling tongues.

Everything is spinning for Momoshiro. He can barely believe he's doing this, but he's out of fucks to give for the day, and he's completely wrapped in all these feelings, his head is full of Kaidoh. Kaidoh, Kaidoh, Kaidoh. Momoshiro lets out another groan, this time too out of it to care that Kaidoh can hear him loud and clear—who cares anyway, isn't Kaidoh enjoying this too? As much as he is? The thought alone, that Kaidoh is feeling as hot and bothered as he is, is enough to make his mind spin out of control. He's loving this.

Their entwined hands don't stay together for long, as Momoshiro pulls it back, and instead uses this hand to grasp the side of Kaidoh's face, his thumb brushing over the burning hot cheeks, and his other fingers lightly pressed against his ear. Momoshiro is keeping most of his weight on his knees, while the rest is resting on Kaidoh's chest—he's probably suffocating him, but he can't seem to care much for that, not when his hands are all over Kaidoh's face, and his tongue is still dangerously playing around with Kaidoh's, and now he's pulling at his hair, and his body will not stop moving against Kaidoh.

If Momoshiro had known how amazing this would have felt, he'd have given into his feelings much sooner instead of denying them anytime it would pop up. Anytime he'd have a moment of doubt. Well fuck that, he just wants Kaidoh.

Kaidoh can't believe the noises Momoshiro is making. At any other time, in any other place, under any other circumstances, he'd call him disgusting, but right now Kaidoh doesn't have a leg to stand on, because there are shuddery breaths, and little moans he can't believe are coming from his own voice, being torn from his throat too each time Momoshiro moves, each time their tongues slide against each other, two hot slippery-wet muscles fighting. It feels just like it always does between them when they fight, just as rough and demanding. Kaidoh didn't realize things could ever be this way between them though. He'd never let his imagination get this far.

Now he doesn't need to imagine, because it's all really happening. When Kaidoh's tongue shoves against Momoshiro's, rolling over it in his own mouth, it's real and immediate, the feeling sending a scorching shiver down Kaidoh's spine. When Kaidoh splays his fingers out against Momoshiro's back, he can feel the heat of his body, and wonders what it would feel like without the shirt's fabric in the way. So many thoughts are zipping through his mind that he'd never expected to have. He's suddenly far more interested in what kind of reaction he'd get if he touched Momoshiro here, or there, than he ever thought he was. Maybe the urges were always there lurking; maybe Momoshiro just needed to set them in motion. Or maybe Kaidoh is just a pervert as well as a stalker. The thought makes his face heat up even more, because it's embarrassing that he can't stop thinking, can't stop feeling, and he knows Momoshiro can feel it because his hand is right there. It feels like his hands are everywhere. It feels like Momoshiro is everywhere.

Kaidoh's not going to let him get away with that.

His other arm, still caught behind his head where Momoshiro had left it, feels empty without something to hold on to, so Kaidoh raises it and pushes his palm against Momoshiro's neck. His fingernails scrape along the back of his neck where his hair meets his scalp. He can feel Momoshiro's pulse against his hand; it seems to match the rhythm of Kaidoh's own, their pace identical.

His body twists against Momoshiro, feeling every inch of Momoshiro's body move with him, like Momoshiro's slid completely into Kaidoh's space, a heavy weight that engulfs him completely. He lets out a low murmur from deep in his throat and the sound vibrates in the hollow of his mouth, making his tongue buzz against Momoshiro's, like it's a wire live with electric current, ready to spark.

The scraping of his fingernails against his already sensitive neck, makes Momoshiro's body twitch and flinch, and this time he really does grunt out a low moan. Do it again. In response, Momoshiro sets his own nails against the back of Kaidoh's scalp, and he presses and drags them, harsh and rough. Every inch of his skin feels sensitive to Kaidoh's touch, and he's starting to think his stupid clothes are in the way, everything is in the way.

Momoshiro is finding it harder to let Kaidoh go, the hotter they become, the more urgency there is to their actions as their tongues swipe and attack. Like it can't stop, it has to happen now.

It doesn't even occur to Momoshiro that they're down at the beach, and everyone who will walk by can see him. God forbid Hazue decides to turn back around and walk in on them.

There's a slight moment where Momoshiro's head clears up a bit, and he starts to realize what he's doing. What he's doing to Kaidoh—what Kaidoh is doing to him. Under normal circumstances, Momoshiro would have punched Kaidoh, called him gross and disgusting, and maybe even ignore him. But he started it, didn't he? He's the one pinning Kaidoh down, moving his body against him, his hands in his hair and everywhere else, their tongues happily exploring, and lips feel as hot as fireworks exploding.

It doesn't matter … Momoshiro doesn't care anymore. It simply feels good, and he's not getting any complaints from Kaidoh, whose noises are making Momoshiro want to do it even more so he can keep hearing them.

They really need to get rid of their clothes … Momoshiro's shirt is sticky from sweat, and it's annoying, and it makes everything uncomfortably hot. All he wants to do is take it off and rub Kaidoh all over him.

Instead, Momoshiro's left hand leaves Kaidoh's face alone, and it wanders down … and down his chest, his fingers making sure that he's putting pressure against the fabric, and seeing him squirm and writhe in response, makes Momoshiro squirm and writhe in response, like a chain reaction. There's this feeling of power Momoshiro gets when he sees (or hears) Kaidoh's reactions to him, and this makes him all the more eager to do more things to him. Like slipping his hand underneath Kaidoh's stupid tank top, and he lies his hand flat against those steel abs. Ah, they feel warm too, skin on skin contact is definitely much better.

Momoshiro sucks Kaidoh's tongue into his own mouth like a vacuum, groaning out loud as he does so (he can't get over how good it feels), and his hand on Kaidoh's stomach is sliding up, exploring the skin beneath that black cloth, touching him everywhere he can. And since Momoshiro seems to be fond of inflicting pain on Kaidoh, he slowly and carefully bites down on Kaidoh's tongue, hard enough to make him notice, but soft enough so that it shouldn't hurt. He thinks. It feels like a challenge almost.

But it's not like there's some kind of goal to be reached here, it's not like Momoshiro can win with whatever they're doing. This doesn't make him any less competitive, and feel the need to out-do Kaidoh, and to draw out even more responses from him.

A muffled, startled noise escapes from Kaidoh's lips into Momoshiro's mouth and Kaidoh squirms, his body arching. It almost sounded like a moan, and Kaidoh curses his body for reacting against his will to all these idiotic things Momoshiro is doing; as if it weren't already obvious enough just how Momoshiro is making him feel. And since he can't exactly punch Momoshiro in response, Kaidoh finds other ways to get even.

His fingers at the back of Momoshiro's neck claw against his skin, and twist and pull at the hair there, eliciting a satisfying moan. His hand against Momoshiro's back scratches down along his spine until he's reached the edge of Momoshiro's shirt, and then his fingers creep under it, bunching the fabric as he pulls at it, his knuckles pressing into the now bare skin of Momoshiro's back. He drags his hand back up, bringing Momoshiro's shirt with it. Momoshiro's skin feels hot and damp with sweat, and Kaidoh's hand slides easily against it. When did they both start sweating so much? Kaidoh's own skin feels feverish, like he's been running for hours and hours, and though Kaidoh's sure it's an illusion, his muscles feel like they're all working just as hard as they'd be if he were, tightening and twisting and tugging and pushing.

Meanwhile, he presses his fingers against Momoshiro's neck again, this time not scratching, just padding against his skin with solid pressure, like he's trying to guide Momoshiro closer, though they can't get much closer than they already are. He reclaims his own tongue, feeling his skin prickle at the sensation of it sliding against Momoshiro's teeth and parted lips and then he surges back again for more. This time he pulls Momoshiro's bottom lip between his teeth and sucks it it into his mouth, holding it there like he's claiming it.

Your move, he thinks, because it's the only coherent thought in his head—that Momoshiro has to keep responding, keep reacting, keep doing things to keep Kaidoh from having any other coherent thoughts, to keep him from having to think about what this is or what it means.

Momoshiro is temporarily out of order, doing nothing but freeze upon Kaidoh's lips biting and sucking on his own. And that hand at his neck, fingers scratching, it's driving him absolutely crazy, and he can't do anything but take it. Take it and shiver all over and feel good, and wish this would keep on going forever. Kaidoh continues to touch him in all the right places, or maybe there really isn't anywhere Kaidoh can touch that will make him feel bad, everything feels fantastic. It's so exciting; how come he never did this before?

Fighting has always gotten a rise out of Momoshiro, always a kick, always a thrilling rush. Right now, it's like they're fighting, but it's taken to a whole new level. A plethora of options have opened up; what used to be forbidden is now okay to do. Or at least, he thinks it is, they've kind of stepped over any boundaries they might have set, and Momoshiro is touching Kaidoh on the principle that anything goes. Anything is fine.

Anything is okay.

Momoshiro pulls his lips back, a sensation that he wants to experience again. But it's not like he can tell Kaidoh 'hey, do that thing again, with your lips', it's not like he can say anything at all while they're like this, the only thing he can do is hope he's taking in enough oxygen to not pass out from these whirlwind of sensations. And besides, talking, acknowledging that they're doing this, is simply out of the question. Momoshiro only wants to focus on Kaidoh's hot body beneath him.

And he's challenging him, isn't he? It's like he knows that Momoshiro is sensitive at his neck, and that he's sort of getting a kick out of Kaidoh going all rough and raw on him. Maybe he noticed. Then again, it's not like he's complaining, not with the way Momoshiro presses his lips back against Kaidoh, and this is something he can't get enough of.

So this is like … a competition, huh. Kaidoh thinks he's winning, doesn't he. Just wait, Momoshiro can make him scream.

He tries his hardest to ignore Kaidoh's hand underneath his shirt, touching him and giving him more and more shivers, or the hand on his neck which feels like it belongs there—and he wants Kaidoh to scratch him there again. But he can't be the only one to enjoy this so immensely. Kaidoh's got to have some sensitive spots on his body as well.

Time for Momoshiro to find those.

Momoshiro's hand wanders around Kaidoh's chest, rubbing and stroking him, to the side of his ribs, and pressing his thumb into each indent of his rib, down and down, until he stops at his hipbone, at the rim of his shorts. A dangerous territory, but anything goes, doesn't it? But not yet, not now. He leaves his hand right there, above his shorts, and he finally pulls away from Kaidoh's warm and wet lips. He takes in a sharp breath, and another, and stares at Kaidoh. The sight of Kaidoh looking so exhausted, red, flushed, sweaty, and panting … it's better than any fantasy he's come up with. Oh, it's a whole lot better. Now if only he could make him moan too …

It happens naturally, Momoshiro doesn't need to think hard, or even decide, when he moves his head to the right, slides his entire body up against Kaidoh, so that every body part is nicely stimulated, and he sets his lips on the side of Kaidoh's neck. Gently at first, like a very soft brush, but enough to feel Kaidoh's pulse bumping through the skin. It feels soft, and very hot, like some sort of delicate area that he never thought would be on Kaidoh's body, who is all hard angles and whatnot. But it's there, and his lips brush against it, sliding them up and down his neck, not even attempting to suck at it, since he's enjoying this for as long as he can.

Kaidoh's mouth falls open and a heavy ripple of sound rushes between his parted lips, as though Momoshiro's mouth at his neck has drawn it out of him. His breath comes out in frantic, tremulous bursts, and he squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the gentle glide of Momoshiro's lips against his skin. It's like a tease, like a taunt, like this is some kind of game. Well, Kaidoh doesn't lose. The sound turns from a moan to more of a growl as Kaidoh grows impatient.

This whole thing is starting to make Kaidoh restless. Momoshiro's hand resting at his hip feels like it's teasing him too, like Momoshiro is still holding back, like he's not fighting with full strength, like he's not giving everything he has. Kaidoh wants to make him, he wants to send the same electric shocks through Momoshiro that Momoshiro is forcing into him. It's only fair. His hips lift off the ground and at the same time he uses the arm at Momoshiro's back to pull him against him so that they're crushed even closer together and there's friction everywhere.

Kaidoh hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize that the things that might give Momoshiro magnetic, sparky feelings would probably do the same for Kaidoh, and all that movement, the arching and pushing and wriggling makes Kaidoh light-headed. He sucks a violent gasp of air in between his teeth. He wants to stay melded against Momoshiro's warm, sweaty body, but the feeling is also dangerous. It's making Kaidoh wonder where the limit is. If this isn't a fight with a winner, then how does it end?

He pushes the thought from his mind, trying to stay in the moment; if he gets distracted, Momoshiro will pull ahead again and Kaidoh can't let him. He drags his hand across the back of Momoshiro's neck again, his fingernails insistent as they dig into Momoshiro's skin, to pull himself back to the present, to stop worrying about where this is going and think only about where it is now, where Momoshiro's hands are, where his mouth is, what his body is doing against Kaidoh's.

All that wriggling of Kaidoh's body, pushing up against him, like he knows exactly how to move and throw him into a tizzy. Momoshiro's brain melts into a puddle when Kaidoh's nails are once more digging deeply into his neck; his body reacts against his own will. He shoves his groin against Kaidoh, and takes in a sharp hiss, before he bares his teeth and his canines prick into the delicate skin of Kaidoh's neck.

And Momoshiro bites down, because he doesn't know what else to do, doesn't know how else to cope with those shocks of pleasure that are both terrifying and absolutely amazing.

Momoshiro stays like that, teeth still sunken into Kaidoh's neck, and he tugs at the skin a little—nibbling almost—while the rest of his body is losing control, and he's slowly starting to rock his body back and forth. Hips sliding against each other. His already hard erection rubbing against Kaidoh's shorts, rubbing at all the junk down there, and it's just the relief he's been looking for. Except it feels like he's scratching an itch that won't go away, like there's still something more. Like it's not yet there, and he just needs to keep scratching it.

Or in this case, rubbing his crotch against Kaidoh's.

Kaidoh snarls at the sensation of Momoshiro's mouth—and teeth—on his neck. He feels a familiar coil of anger rising in his stomach, like Momoshiro's just thrown a punch and Kaidoh has no choice but to return it. His hips snap forward against Momoshiro's lower body, and the way Momoshiro is moving, the way he's moving, makes Kaidoh feel embarrassed. This is completely disgusting. But he can't stop himself. So long as Momoshiro isn't stopping, Kaidoh won't either, so long as they're both moving, they can just hang in this hazy, sweaty limbo where there's no need to justify or rationalize. It's something Kaidoh's always appreciated about Momoshiro, that he doesn't require an explanation, that he operates on instinct. Kaidoh's instincts now are pounding at his ears, telling him to keep going, so he does.

He buries his face against Momoshiro's shoulder, his breath so rapid and warm that it feels damp against Momoshiro's shirt. Momoshiro's skin feels just as hot as Kaidoh's cheeks when he tilts his face into the curve of Momoshiro's neck. He presses his lips against it, the same way Momoshiro had done to him, and his tongue darts out tentatively against Momoshiro's skin, causing the other man to breathe out a shaky groan. It tastes salty, sweaty, and he can feel Momoshiro shiver against him as he swipes his mouth up to Momoshiro's ear, growing more confident with each encouraging squirm of Momoshiro's body, until his teeth graze his earlobe. It makes Momoshiro's mouth move against his own neck, teeth scraping over his skin, and Kaidoh breathes out a ragged hiss against the shell of Momoshiro's ear.

That hiss goes right through Momoshiro's ear, and it's vibrating all the way down to his groin. He shudders like he's got the world's biggest fever, sweating from all his pores, and shivering like he's out naked on the Antarctic. That stupid hiss has already been burned into his memory since they had first met, when Kaidoh couldn't do anything but glare at him, and hiss at him because he hated him. Kaidoh was supposed to hate him. Momoshiro was supposed to hate him back.

So why are they here? Down in the sand, dry humping each other, Momoshiro's teeth biting the skin of Kaidoh's neck, and Kaidoh's tongue licking up his ear as if it's an ice cream cone.

And worst of all, Momoshiro finds nothing wrong with it. Maybe it's because he's actually doing it that shattered all his rational, the last remaining shreds of his sanity and common sense. It's all gone, replaced by nothing but a fiery passion of instinct, and the desire to keep going. And Momoshiro does.

It's getting a bit harder to focus on what he's doing to Kaidoh, when Kaidoh is doing plenty of other things to Momoshiro himself. The way his body moves in sync with him, rubbing in the most dangerous places. Rubbing against places Momoshiro never thought of rubbing with another man. The exciting part of it though, is when Momoshiro notices—barely, he's in a daze—that he's not the only one who's got something hard sticking out of his shorts. The knowledge that Kaidoh's just as into it as he is, that even he, can succumb to his crazy hormones, is enough for Momoshiro to continue this and not think about any awkward consequences. Kaidoh's reactions are off the charts, reactions he's never seen before. Suddenly hisses sound sexy, and his neck is attracting him like a magnet, and Kaidoh's thoroughly flushed face pulled in a grimace is probably the most erotic thing Momoshiro has seen in his life.

Coupled with the fact that Kaidoh is going at it just as much as he is, licking his ear, hands on his back, hips driving hard into him, Momoshiro is at a loss of what to do. Because if they keep going like this … then he'll … no … it's going to happen, and it's going to happen soon.

He does the only thing he can do; sucks hard on Kaidoh's neck enough to draw blood, and viciously press his hips against Kaidoh's to get the stimulation he's craving.

He never wants this to stop.

Kaidoh pulls away from Momoshiro's ear, panting. His hand clutches at Momoshiro's back, using it for leverage to lift himself against Momoshiro's body so they collide, again and again, each time generating more heat than before. He never thought he'd like the feeling of skin under his hands so much. He never thought he'd like the feeling of Momoshiro's scorching body against his so much. He never thought he'd be lying here doing this, wanting this, wanting Momoshiro like this.

The hand at Momoshiro's neck slides up and tears off Momoshiro's bandana, because Kaidoh just wants to try and touch everything, everywhere, half-believing that maybe this is all just some weird dream that he'd better enjoy while it lasts. And he is enjoying it. Much more than he should. He tugs and twists his fingers through Momoshiro's thick black hair, which really is getting stupidly long. He holds his hand there, firm and solid so that Momoshiro has to stay like that, with his face so close to Kaidoh's, with his mouth at his neck.

Kaidoh's breathing gets shallower with each passing second. He scrunches up his lips to try and keep any sounds from escaping, but he can't stop them and they just end up muffled inside his mouth, right against the side of Momoshiro's face. It's like Momoshiro is deliberately forcing them out of him, like Kaidoh can't help himself. He really can't.

Momoshiro feels like he's about to collapse from this lightheadedness, he can barely focus, and Kaidoh's fingers are up in his hair, and it's like the best thing ever—Kaidoh's the best thing ever. The way he's writhing against him, each time coming back to meet him as they simply pound into each other. This is really not going to last long, not with Kaidoh's lips next to his ear, his breath so hitched and quick, and exciting small sounds just worming its way through his lips.

Finally taking it off of Kaidoh's hipbone, Momoshiro's hand slips underneath Kaidoh's back, and it feels extremely sweaty down there, not to mention covered in sand, but it feels hot to the touch, and Momoshiro likes it. He uses this position to help Kaidoh lift up his body against him, so that their hips meet again and again, with Momoshiro making jerky sudden movements that he doesn't have much control over.

The teeth finally let go of Kaidoh's neck, and Momoshiro is sure there are bitemarks in it now, which is kind of a nice thought, but he's too full of adrenaline to think straight—simply drives himself into Kaidoh, panting with each stroke.

Momoshiro returns for some more hot tongue action as he mushes his lips against Kaidoh's again, a little bit off the mark because he's shaking too much, but it gets the job done. And since Kaidoh's gasping for air, it's easy enough to slip his tongue inside, and meet that warm piece of muscle that he can't get enough of. And he lets Kaidoh know it too, as he moans straight into his mouth because of the connection between them. He can feel the rest of his muscles tense up, his toes are curling up, and his grip on Kaidoh's back becomes stronger and more forceful. Not to mention his own tongue strives to gain dominance over Kaidoh's.

He really isn't going to last long.

Kaidoh's heart feels like it's pounding in his throat now, like it's somehow migrated up from his chest and is threatening to escape out through his mouth. It's thumping, heavy and rapid just under his skin. Everything feels rapid, sped up. Everything is moving so fast, Kaidoh can scarcely keep up. There's no time to think through his actions.

He moves his tongue against Momoshiro's like he's trying to prove something, like he's trying to impress, like he's trying to outdo him. It seems like he's been trying to this whole time. And it's more effective than any insult, any punch, could be. Even though Momoshiro has Kaidoh pinned underneath him, against him, Kaidoh feels like he's just as in control of this as Momoshiro is, although that control has been steadily slipping for both of them. He can feel it in the way Momoshiro's breathing has gone ragged, his movements more urgent. He can feel it in his own body, too. It's both terrifying and exhilarating, moreso than any time they've ever fought.

Each time Momoshiro's tongue swipes against his, each time their bodies thrust together, Kaidoh feels like they're about to catch fire and burst into flames, like there's too much combined heat between them for them to both escape unscathed. He scrapes his fingers across Momoshiro's shoulder blades and drags his hand down Momoshiro's scalp and to the small, delicate patch of skin at the back of his neck. Momoshiro's skin is burning up under Kaidoh's touch, or maybe instead it's Kaidoh's hands that are burning up from touching too much of Momoshiro's bare skin. Maybe it's both. The line between action and reaction is blurring. It's getting dangerous.

It's accelerating like they're on a train riding through a huge wind tunnel, everything keeps speeding up. Friction is getting hotter and more rough, and urgent, oh so urgent. Momoshiro doesn't even know what he's doing anymore, except that what's going on currently is mind blowing, and he simply keeps on going, to find that release that's begging to come out.

Shorts are now stained, sticky from sweat and the pre-cum that Momoshiro is eagerly rubbing against Kaidoh's shorts. While everything else feels flaring hot, the action going on down there, two hard bumps creating friction against each other, is probably the hottest thing on earth. Like a power plant that is waiting to explode, and Momoshiro can't even hand out any warnings that it will.

Just a … little bit more. Momoshiro is taking in shallow breaths, until he holds it in, hands tightening around Kaidoh's back, the other pulling at his hair, and teeth sinking down on Kaidoh's tongue. His hips jerk and thrust, off-key, not coordinated at all, like he's a wild animal.

Kaidoh retracts his tongue into his mouth, and presses his lips hard against Momoshiro's, wanting to leave them bruised. This is how it started. Just his mouth and Momoshiro's mouth and somewhere along the way it spiraled out of control. There's no stopping it now. There's no going back. It can't be undone.

Momoshiro presses just as hard as Kaidoh is; his breath still stuck in his throat, and everything is tightening around him.

Just a bit more …

They part for long enough for Kaidoh to hiss warm, shaky air against Momoshiro's mouth and then suck even more in—he's feeling increasingly like there's simply not enough air out here on this beach—and then Kaidoh bites at Momoshiro's bottom lip, tugging at it. It feels hot and raw from all the mouth on mouth contact, and Kaidoh's teeth bear down, dragging the lip into his mouth.

Momoshiro recoils, and his entire body jerks at the sensation. More—more like this, keep doing that. Kaidoh is taking up his entire mind, his entire body, it's tingling, it's tightening, all his muscles are contracting from all this messing around. He squeezes his eyes shut, leaning in closer and twisting his head so that his lips burn against Kaidoh's teeth.

It doesn't stay there for long because this thing that Momoshiro is doing, the erratic pulse of his body against Kaidoh's at just the right angle, is starting to drive Kaidoh nuts. Another snap of Momoshiro's hips and Kaidoh's mouth falls open and a strange, throaty growl tears out of it. Kaidoh hardly recognizes that it's his own voice. He's so trapped in the moment that he's unable to restrain himself.

Kaidoh's rumbling growl rushes through Momoshiro's body, like a heavy beat in the pit of his stomach, except it's spreading everywhere, it's making him freeze up, his eyes rolling back, and everything stays all mixed up together for a split second, until he can feel it.

Muscles finally relax.

Fingernails scratch until it draws blood.

The breath he's holding in finally gets released.

"Ah … hah …" Momoshiro's body goes limp. The rush pumps through him, once, twice, and with the third time he's empty. He's drained, he's completely numb, his face above Kaidoh's who is still gasping for breath. The stickiness in his shorts goes from a nice relaxing warmth, to an ice chilling cold. Momoshiro freezes up, halting all of his movements.

"Shit," Momoshiro stammers out in a broken voice.

It takes Kaidoh a second to realize what has just happened because it's hard for him to process anything in the hazy state he's in. But he feels Momoshiro stop moving, hears Momoshiro's voice, feels something wet and sticky against him, and Kaidoh tenses up too, despite every muscle in his body screaming in protest. He stares up at Momoshiro, eyes like a challenge, but can't seem to form words. It's hard enough trying to make his body remember to breathe and keep his pulse from exploding out of his chest.

This … This … Oh. Suddenly all the thinking Kaidoh had been putting off doing comes rushing back, pounding at his ears. And suddenly he doesn't want to look Momoshiro in the eye anymore, so he drops his gaze. No good, because now he's staring at Momoshiro's very red and swollen mouth. Kaidoh can't really look at anything in his immediate frame of vision and not feel hot and bothered and still … well … Kaidoh doesn't want to stop. And, unlike moments ago, it's now making him feel kind of disgusted.

Reality comes crashing down on Momoshiro as his hormones skitter away in fright. This can't be happening … No. It did happen, and his sticky crotch is still pressed up against Kaidoh, who is staring at him, but also avoiding him at the same time, and Momoshiro feels a wave of guilt wash over him. Shame. Disgust. What has he done?

And despite just moments ago he was so into it he simply lost himself, how Kaidoh seems to still be hot and sweaty and squirmy, Momoshiro feels disgusted thinking Kaidoh looks hot like this. He's disgusted with himself.

Without even looking Kaidoh in the eye anymore—he can't, he suddenly feels like he's going to throw up—Momoshiro scrambles off of Kaidoh's body. Finally they separate after screwing around together for so long. All his muscles sting and hurt, his body still feels hot in places Kaidoh's touched—and he's touched him everywhere, hair completely disheveled, lips raw and throbbing with pain. Pain he seemed to be totally digging a few seconds ago.

But not now.

Momoshiro covers his extremely red face with his hand, turns away from Kaidoh still lying in the sand, and then he runs in the opposite direction of their hut, despite the fact his legs feel like stone and jello at the same time. He needs to get away from Kaidoh. He can never look him in the eye again, he's that mortified.

Kaidoh sees Momoshiro run off, hears his feet beat into the sand and his clothes shiver with movement, but he doesn't immediately register that it's happened. It doesn't sink in. None of this is sinking in. It feels like a dream, but the sharp, sore spot on Kaidoh's neck is real, and so are the stinging marks on his back, and the annoying, stupid, disgusting hardness in his shorts is definitely very real.

And Momoshiro …

This was all his fault, he started it, but now he's the one who's disappeared, leaving Kaidoh lying in the sand, frozen in place, unable to move. His skin, which had previously been hot and sweaty under Momoshiro's molten body now only feels clammy, like he has a bad fever. If he did it might explain the sudden nausea swirling in his stomach.

He wants it all to go away. The thoughts, the feelings, the sensations still lingering on his skin like ghosts. All of it. If only he could shut himself off, because it's all burned into his memory now, playing through his head again and again on continuous loop. Why? Why won't it stop?

Kaidoh lies there in the sand like an overturned statue for a very long time. He hasn't stopped thinking, hasn't stopped feeling, but at least the sensations have dissipated. He rises to his feet with a heavy sigh. There's an indentation in the sand below him where their bodies were and Kaidoh kicks at it to try and erase it. Not that he's going to forget.

Maybe running will help.

No. Weren't they supposed to go running together? Kaidoh's cheeks flush with color as he recalls it. Well, he'll just have to run until he forgets about that. And everything else. Even if it takes him all night.