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Monday: A Diversion

Standing there, Omi wrapped in his arms and the world narrowed down to the space around them, Ken realized that for the first time in a very long time he felt…right. Just right. 

There was no Weiss. 

No shell of a boy who had to be perfect. No bloodlusty seeker of someone else’s vengeance.

 

Just Ken and Omi. It felt good.

 

Ken dropped his head lower, burying half his face in Omi’s hair. He suddenly realized how much he wanted to be as close to perfect for him as he could be. If for some reason or another there was only tonight…Omi wouldn’t have regrets. 

Not like him, not if he could help it.

 

“What do you want?” Ken inquired gently, slightly muffled by the top of Omi’s head.

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pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 03:46 am (UTC)
"I..." They needed to talk. Omi knew they should before anything else, except he still couldn't figure out what he was supposed to say, and how he was supposed to explain everything to Ken.

Briefly, Omi's fingers tightened their grip around Ken. Relaxed, and with a hidden look of heightened determination, Omi urged Ken back for his bed.

"We need to talk a little. Then, I... I don't know, Ken-kun! I've never done this before. I don't know what to want." He blushed and was glad his face was still hidden.

"Not that I don't-- I mean, I know what..." Damn it! Damn it all with twenty POUNDS of moldy cheese! How did anyone actually talk about this without stuttering?
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 21st, 2007 04:09 am (UTC)
Watching Omi made him smile, even though it was obvious he was having a rough time of it. It was because of his friend's stumbling words the half-formed idea in his head turned solid.

“I have an idea. Let’s not talk for a while.”

Ken continued walking back toward the bed, but at the last second he turned them around so Omi’s knees were against the edge.

“Make you a deal,” Ken whispered, even though they were alone. “I’ll give you a trial run. No strings. You don’t have to do anything, think about anything…if I do it right you won’t be able to think anyway.”

He pulled away to try and catch Omi’s eye. “And if you like it, great. If you don’t, then you just don’t.”
pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 04:21 am (UTC)
Omi froze.

Not talk for a while? Uh-oh. Omi was not an idiot. He knew exactly what Ken was saying and that was worrisome, because they needed to talk about it first right? But he didn't want to-- if Omi could have it his way they'd never talk about the rest but he thought Ken needed it and--

He blinked and drew in a light gasp, having gotten so lost in his thoughts he'd not even noticed Ken had backed him around so that his knees were against the side of his bed.

He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or a little worried about the phrasing. Trial run. It made him think of something like a sales pitch. Money-back guarantee. That was so... ridiculous and utterly a Ken thing to say.

Dork.

Omi made a weak attempt to answer, and instead a crooked smile was taking over his mouth. The blush was coming back with a vengeance. He awkwardly laughed; there was another surge of anxiety and yet...

"What did you have in mind...?" He ventured.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 21st, 2007 04:36 am (UTC)
“A hummer.”

Completely up front, as usual. And shamelessly cheating, which was unusual.

It was the one skill he could bring to the…bed…that he was damned proud of.

He saw it as a challenge (after that awful time) and treated it as such, but more importantly, he enjoyed it.

Ken had an unfortunate oral fixation, it was the reason he was constantly licking his fingers while he snacked (and only the damage to his lungs kept him from becoming a smoker).

“You don’t have to do anything but sit back and enjoy. Eh…hopefully enjoy.”
pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 04:48 am (UTC)
Omi blushed harder. He had a feeling he understood what Ken was suggesting now. The irony was, that was actually exactly what he'd figured they would do. He had never once considered going "all the way"... So was everything really okay like this?

He realized he was looking down, and hadn't been meeting Ken's eyes for a while. He glanced up at them finally and gave a small nod.

If only his heart would stop racing.

Omi scooted back onto his bed and leaned back, making himself comfortable. On noticing his fingers were faintly trembling, he clenched the waist of his shorts. Stop it, fingers. Not that nervous, not that nervous.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Ken, or didn't think it would feel good, but... what was he getting himself into?

Eyes shut. He swallowed and unzipped the fly.
(no subject) - plotbunnytiff - Aug. 21st, 2007 05:03 am (UTC) - Expand
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plotbunnytiff
Aug. 22nd, 2007 12:41 am (UTC)
Ken was never great with words. He could communicate with them well enough, but in the end he didn’t like them very much. There were too many ways to be misunderstood, and there were far too many shades of grey for someone who liked to simplify things to black and white.

Body language was something else entirely. It carried more than mere words ever could. It skipped filters and went directly to the heart of emotion. Showing Omi just how much his heart ached for him, how he filled Ken’s dreams (and sadly, a few of his nightmares as well), how unbalanced and flat-footed he felt without him; all of this was expressed in this physical act, because he would never find words good enough to speak it out loud.

Ken had started this with something to prove: he was worth it. You’ve been my friend, Omi, despite all my fuckups and flaws. I’ve added on a few more, but let me stay, and here’s what I can add to this duo to make the extra burden worthwhile.

But watching Omi during the whole process changed everything. Ken barely blinked the entire time, searing every bead of sweat, every clench of muscle, and every stunted breath into his memory. It humbled him; he realized then and there that he would never be worthy of this, ever. But it was an honor (words, again, but a good one) to be allowed to give like this; to be the one to bring pleasure to the person he cared about most in the world.

Hands clamped him down from above. Gasps assailed his ears and wrung answering vibrations from his body. Ken carefully wrenched the fingers from his hair and held them with his own, as much to allow him some breathing and movement space as to keep himself from desperately reaching into his own waistband. And when Omi finally came he forced himself to stay put through every wracked shudder and afterspasm, fingers entangled with Omi until he reached a passable stillness, and then pulling back
pichi
Aug. 22nd, 2007 03:37 am (UTC)
Omi needed a minute to come down from the physical high Ken had taken his body to. The dull throbbing of his muscles as all the blood settled once more into its usual flow. Ken's fingers tangled with his own amidst his hair: Omi gradually became more aware of what a funny and pleasant combination it was to touch.

Ken drew back; Omi watched and felt the blush flare back over his face. It wasn't difficult to look at him. There was just... well. Omi felt a little odd not doing anything to censor himself now that Ken was... finished? But should he or shouldn't he?

The rush was over, and Omi felt hopelessly lost.

"Am I supposed to do the same thing back now?"

Once he found his brain again, he'd be able to properly berate himself for the tactlessness of that first post-blow remark.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 12:12 am (UTC)
"Am I supposed to do the same thing back now?"

Ken's jaw dropped a little and prompty shut again after a protesting twinge. Better reaction than vomiting, I guess. Omi's remark would have been tragically funny if Ken didn't have more immediate problems to worry about.

"No." Ken slowly and very carefully got to his feet. He was going to stick to the "trial run" rule if it killed him. But if he didn't get some relief, fast, it just might.

"Ano...be right back." He made his way to the bathroom as quickly as he could without hurting himself.
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 12:39 am (UTC)
Omi felt even more lost as Ken declined, then got up, then... left! Did he do something wrong? Where was he going?

"Ken-kun!" He didn't feel like he should follow him, but why was he leaving?

It was, indeed, completely GONE on Omi that Ken was leaving to masturbate. After all, weren't they in the middle of a sexual experience? Why would he leave for that?!

All Omi could fathom was that something had happened and now Ken was upset, and Omi had not the slightest comprehension of why.
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pichi
Aug. 24th, 2007 01:54 am (UTC)
Ken would find that smile still on Omi's face when he looked up to find him. It was not a forced smile; neither was it an entirely pleasant one. It was a smile that suggested Ken had every reason to be just a little nervous about what was about to happen next.

As he spoke however-- just a little-- the smile warmed.

Omi brushed his lips along Ken's earlobe and planted a delicate kiss there. "Un. I'm having fun too." He liked the expression he'd glimpsed before shifting to play with his ear; in a way, it only fueled his own desire to show Ken who was really Boss here. Omi briefly recognized that the position of power and control was disturbingly a more arousing thought than that of simply being with Ken. He dismissed the observation.

He tugged Ken's pants off his hips, still caught up in this high of having someone close and at his absolute mercy. Ken was really incredible on his back and looking up at him like that, wasn't he? Omi traced a feather-light trail up the inside of Ken's thigh, dragging his fingertips at an agonizingly slow pace. Into the crease of the groin, following it to the hip. A brief pause, as though to contemplate, and he pressed a light trail of kisses along the line of Ken’s neck leading from ear to collarbone.

Omi was not an expert in foreplay, or in any other stage of sexual activity. But ever and always would he be a strategist: evaluating moves, their likely results and how best they could serve his purposes. Ken's body lay beneath him like the grounds for an execution; his lips, tongue, fingers and voice were amongst his arsenal of weapons.

And everyone knew, a mission could not fail. Under any circumstances.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 24th, 2007 02:16 am (UTC)
Ken was feeling much better now. He knew he was being selfish, dragging this out as long as he could just to revel in the sensation of it. But if he never got a chance like this again...

That was a defeatest attitude. Ken promptly banished it from his thoughts so that he could--

concentrate on the fuck he found that spot on my collarbone oh my god--

Ken had small scar on his collarbone where it had been broken years ago. For some reason, that spot had been highly sensitive ever since.

Omi tripping across it in the midst of such heightened arousal sent a white-hot flash through him. The noise that oozed out of Ken's throat was animalistic, his back arched half an inch from the mattress, and he flopped back down again with all the grace of a landed fish.
pichi
Aug. 24th, 2007 03:18 am (UTC)
Well. He must be doing something right. Omi took back a little at the sheer power of Ken's reaction, not having expected anything of that magnitude. The rise off the mattress, the gutteral moan from his throat-- Omi stopped and reprocessed what had just happened, and attacked the spot on the neck again. He stopped using his hands and fingers, more curious over this point that elicited such a strong response. He rubbed his tongue against it, detecting the nub of raised skin from the scar. That was sort of interesting to feel.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 24th, 2007 04:39 am (UTC)
Another searing heat wave, not as overwhelming as the first but still intense, crashed over Ken with the deliberate lick to his scar.

He couldn't keep his spine from arching(it was an involuntary response)but he *could* suppress the pathetically needy little moan that tried to worm its way out of his mouth. Most of it, anyway.

He'd only been with a couple people before, but no one had ever made him feel as though he was being played like an instrument. Ken was usually quiet in bed, solid and steady. This was something new, but...it wasn't bad.He decided to venture out on a limb and try something.

When he could catch a bit of wind he started writhing, allowing the steady stream of babbling pleads and curses that had been whirling in his head to come out of his mouth in a soft hissing groan. He knew he probably looked pathetic, but it made things much easier than fighting against it.
(no subject) - pichi - Aug. 24th, 2007 10:09 am (UTC) - Expand
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pichi
Aug. 29th, 2007 12:41 pm (UTC)
There was a small pause, and Omi nodded. There was the blush again. "Un. I did." And overall, it was the truth. It had been... nice. Felt good, was kind of fun, wouldn't mind doing it again. Of course, Omi felt super-awkward now, and wondered what next, how did they go about it next morning when Omi saw him and the first thing that would come to his mind would be 'I got a blow job from you last night.' What then?

Why hello there brain, nice to see you again. What's that you say? It's later? Oh, crap.

"I um..." Omi trailed off and noticed Ken's smile. It was easy to return it. "Thank you! I think, I mean... Is that something you should say at a time like this?" What DID people say to each other after sex anyway? And was it possible to find out over the Internet? He'd like to be prepared next time.

Damn it, there was the awkward again. Time for a strategic retreat.

"I... I should wash my hands." He said lamely, and with a sheepish little squirm slipped back towards the bathroom.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 30th, 2007 02:04 am (UTC)
"Good idea. I'm off to shower." Ken watched Omi go with a sense of bemused wonder. Wasn't he acting like a military general of sex less than a minute ago?

He wasn't completely surprised, Omi wasn't really one to back down from a challenge that caught his interest, and Ken had seen him give that same focused, intense glare to stubborn computers he couldn't easily hack-

That was a sobering thought.

In fact, that nugget of a thought began to roll forward. Ken really had seen that side of Omi before, in glimpses. Studying building layouts, pre-mission stratigizing, lining targets into view...

Stop thinking so damn much-

The path the thought was rolling down was blocked. It was still there, but it couldn't get any bigger. The thought sat there as he sped to the shower, a tiny speck of darkness in the midst of his afterglow.
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