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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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( 40 comments — Leave a comment )
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.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 21st, 2007 05:03 am (UTC)
Ken cracked a grin at Omi’s reaction. He understood his nervousness completely; hell, his own heart was going close to a thousand miles an hour. All the same…

“Oi. Omi. I’m not giving you a flu shot y’know.” He joked, nudging Omi on the shoulder so he would lie back.

After that, he focused. It was do or die now. He dropped to one knee in front of Omi, gently massaging his thighs at the legline of his shorts.

“Just let me,” he murmured, placing a kiss where skin and cloth met.
pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 05:27 am (UTC)
Omi blinked his eyes open and blushed, if it was possible, even harder. Of course Ken was right. It wasn't going to be painful. And yet Omi almost felt a flu shot would be easier to deal with.

Omi stopped and reprocessed that thought, and decided right there that he had to be the most insane teenaged male on the face of the planet.

But at least he knew what to expect with a shot, and he wasn't afraid of needles. A dart-handling assassin hardly could be. This...

Omi's eyes widened, and he was pretty sure he actually squeaked as Ken's mouth came so close. Analysis of his psyche went flying out the window, contemplation instead turning to the strange duality of how Ken's warm hands massaging his legs was making him feel more relaxed and more restless at the same time.

Omi grabbed up his pillow and used it as much to gag himself as to hide his hot face. To give himself something to cling to; he could already tell he was going to need it.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 21st, 2007 05:46 am (UTC)
Ken, meanwhile, maneuvered his way between Omi’s legs a bit more, using one hand to nudge Omi’s shirt up a bit while still massaging with the other.

He leaned forward, coming within a hair’s breadth of Omi’s navel, just letting the working hand do its job.

And then the first wave of assault came in the form of butterfly kisses, short, hot licks, and cooling puffs of breath to Omi’s stomach. A bombardment of varying sensations, never in a recognizable pattern, while the other hand kept its steady rhythm of relaxation.

He kept it up, carefully making his way lower and lower and lower…
pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 06:06 am (UTC)
Thanks to that pillow, Omi was blind to whatever Ken was doing. He heard the shifts against the mattress, the steady rhythm of Ken's lungs. He felt the heat of those breaths against his stomach, the firm strength of the muscles in his hands.

Then everything changed.

Ken's ambush shot stiffness through Omi's spine, rippling a shiver through. Again he squeaked, louder this time and audible even through the pillow. Omi was no stranger to the solo tactics of sexual relief, but he had to admit kisses and licks and teasing blows of air were completely different from the stroke of a hand. And Ken was just on the stomach.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked over the pillow, continuing to cling to it. This was humiliating. What was Ken reducing him to?

After contemplating that a moment, Omi furiously stuffed the pillow back down beside him and simply turned his head away, because it was too embarrassing to try to look at Ken while raw instinct took over, and a slender arm reached out to take the back of Ken's head and impatiently direct him towards his goal.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 21st, 2007 06:27 am (UTC)
That was exactly the signal Ken had been waiting and hoping for.

He allowed Omi to push him back, using the movement to drag his hands to the waistband of Omi’s shorts and ease them down far enough to get what he wanted.

There wasn’t a shred of doubt that Ken was winning this round, but now he was more focused than before. Being too sure too early was a path leading to defeat.

A few more teasing licks down the hipbone, reveling in the pulsating warmth, and then business.

Ken picked a spot on the underside, close to the base, and sucked there a bit, curling around with a touch of tongue. He kept it up, working around and up in a twisted spiral all the way to the top, then stopped and dragged his tongue all the way down.

He kept his eyes open so he could watch Omi react; his own hands were now gripped tight on either side of Omi’s hips, and a flush was beginning to stain his cheeks as well as he fought off his own arousal.

Omi would have to look hot like this. Dammit.
pichi
Aug. 21st, 2007 03:34 pm (UTC)
A certain observation niggled at the back of Omi's mind that somewhat unsettled him even as he lay there in the cool softness of his bed. It was not the recognition that this was his first sexual experience with another person, and it was not that this was in any way unpleasant or deserving of the tight anxiety that he'd felt. It was a ghost from an earlier assumption, its imprint haunting the walls of his mind even through the haze of euphoria.

Ken had quite succeeded in making Omi feel more physical pleasure than he could ever remember feeling in his life. It was an overwhelming rush that made his every muscle ache, that spun a tingle through the nerves in his fingertips and stole half the capacity from his lungs, allowing only the quick and shallow breaths that dried his mouth and left him constantly hungry for more air.

And through all of that, etched across his conscious was the startling and heartbreaking realization that nothing had changed: he felt not a bit more romantically now than he had on letting Ken in the room.

He didn't have the courage or the heart to voice this realization. Maybe it would still change. They weren't finished yet, and it had to take some time. Maybe it'd even take a few times. Love and sex weren't the same thing, but he was doing this because of love, right? And love + sex = romance, didn't it? It made so much sense in his head, he just felt sure that adding sex would help transform the love he already felt into the same kind of love that Ken had for him. Because then everything would fit and be right and it just had to be that way, damn it.

Whatever semblance of logic the reassurances held was enough. Omi's brain shut down until it knew only the desperate pressure building towards its peak-- pressure that mirrored more and more keenly the sense of emptiness in his heart. Half of Omi wanted to pull Ken close and cling to him for all he was worth just to prove to himself he had someone to hold. Half of him wanted to push Ken far, far away, so he could close himself off and nurse the scar ripped fresh at the concept of intimate love, right there, and yet still so frustratingly out of his reach. All of him wanted the pressure to just go away.

On the outside, Omi writhed and whimpered and looked for all the world as though he couldn't possibly find a state of greater ecstacy. Outside remained an incomparable bombardment of ravishing sensation that only made Inside more confusing and dizzying. Omi shut his eyes tightly and gasped under Ken's mouth, both hands now moving to grip the back of Ken's head, absolutely forbidding a withdrawal until he'd relieved him of this unbearable and sadistic marriage of pleasure and agony.
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.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 12:52 am (UTC)
Damn it to motherfucking hell!

He literally whimpered as he froze in front of the door, but he turned all the same. So close...

Omi looked a little panicked. Which was bad.

But if he was upset that he was leaving...that was good.

Ken bit his lip and cracked a smile, fighting to keep his breathing even.

"I made a promise you wouldn't have to do anything, but I really--you have no idea how hot you looked, so I just need a minute, ok?"
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 12:57 am (UTC)
As soon as Omi understood what Ken was actually intending to do, his eyes dangerously flashed and with an almost angry-sounding command he shot up to an upright posture and pointed hard at his bed.

"You get back on this bed right now, Ken-kun!"

Someone meant business.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 01:11 am (UTC)
...the hell?!

Before poor Ken's brain could decipher just what was going on all of a sudden, his body told his brain to screw itself and brought him right back to the bed.

"Omi...listen, I wasn't trying to say that-I mean um--" He tried to swallow; breathing came in labored pants and he couldn't keep from squirming.

Strangly enough, he felt like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was trying to explain his way out.

Weirder than that, the tone of voice and look Omi just gave him made his problem a lot worse.
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 01:38 am (UTC)
Omi could not believe it. Could. Not. Believe it. There he was, going out on a limb and trying to develop a sexual relationship with Ken-- for Ken's sake at that-- and there was Ken trotting off to kill half the exchange! Really, how DARE he even think about marching in the bathroom to jack off when there was Omi ready and willing in front of him?

Ken was still a dork. Omi tolerated his attempts to explain for about five seconds, before speaking up again, his voice once more soft and quiet, but no less commanding.

"Shut up, Ken-kun."

Omi moved. He pushed Ken onto his back, climbing atop him and straddling him over the thighs. He bent over so that his body hovered over Ken’s.

“That was bad, Ken-kun. I’m trying to learn how to do this. Why would you run off like that? Don't you want my help?"
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 01:45 am (UTC)
There had been a good reason why he left.

A very good one.

He couldn't remember it for the life of him. Must not have been that important after all.

"Yes," he managed to gasp. Ken was reduced to single word sentences. "Sorry."
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 02:10 am (UTC)
Whatever reservations and uncertainties Omi had possessed before seemed to have completely vanished in the face of Ken's own attempted disappearing act. Now Omi was too riled at Ken's sheer nerve and stupidity (or what he perceived as it) to feel much of anything beyond a mulish determination to follow through.

Consequently, that determination effectively blocked out Omi's embarrassment, his anxieties, and his doubts. You'd never know this was the same boy that had timidly asked what his partner had in mind, and what he was supposed to do back.

Omi leaned down and cut off Ken from any other possible speech with a hard kiss, while his hand groped between Ken's legs for that particular problem of his.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 02:32 am (UTC)
Ken had created a monster.

The force of the kiss took him by surprise, but he gave back as good as he got. There was no point in trying to be gentle; if he didn’t keep up, he had the feeling Omi was going to eat him alive. He entangled fingers into Omi’s hair, trying to somehow draw him closer. The other hand pushed up Omi’s shirt and mindlessly explored there.

Sometime between the quiet groan and breaking out in a sweat the thought that he didn’t really understand what had pissed Omi off so much…but then he decided it didn’t matter and he didn’t care. He just wanted more.
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 03:29 am (UTC)
It was strange, it still felt weird and Omi couldn't help noticing that. Every time Ken wanted to touch him, there was something awkward but damned if he was about to pause things. It was ignored easily enough because it didn't really matter. He was adjusting and look at how far he'd come already and shut up brain I'll deal with you later.

He had to admit, he liked the kiss at least. It was like a contest. He'd show Ken who was really in charge here. His grip was firm, movements deliberate. He didn't try going down and returning the favor the same way for one simple reason: he wanted it this way.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 23rd, 2007 03:43 am (UTC)
Ken broke from the kiss first, he had to. All the warning signs were coming up fast, and he couldn't keep control for much longer.

"Omi!" Holy shit, was that his voice? Wow. That sounded dangerously close to begging.

"Omi, I--naah! I--please!" Oh fuck. It was begging.

Ken bucked his hips and clenched his eyes shut. Not yet, please not yet, there was so much more-it was too soon...
pichi
Aug. 23rd, 2007 09:09 am (UTC)
Omi looked at that desperate face. The bit of panic. He heard the high pitch of Ken's pleas, the words of those pleas. He felt the bucks of Ken's hips as he came so close to losing control.

What he felt from it all was something curiously intoxicating. How amazing to be able to have that effect on someone. Ken was a dear friend, but he looked so good helpless and begging and turned to absolute putty. And he was enjoying himself, look at him! He didn’t mind being controlled like this. He liked what was happening here.

Omi smiled devilishly; he did too.

He had no idea that Ken was actually begging for the sex to be prolonged. It sounded to Omi like he was dying for relief.

This naturally made Omi want to tease him with the opposite. Teasing was what friends did to each other. And so, unwittingly going right along with what Ken had actually wanted, Omi's hand stilled and abandoned its fierce assault. Lucky he’d stopped Ken from disappearing into the bathroom, wasn’t it? Hot whispers tickled his ear.

"What's wrong, Ken-kun? Aren't you having fun?"

Deft fingers worked to open the front of Ken's pants. The second line of assault wouldn't be so easy to carry out through the clothing.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 24th, 2007 12:57 am (UTC)
Ken mentally scrambled for any unsexy thoughts he could come up with. Fuzzy kittens. Mrs. Pacman. Ran dressed like an Elvis impersonator.

The last one almost made him gag a little, but it did the trick. He shook sweat drenched hair out of his eyes and gulped in a lungful of air.

"Loads," he replied, forcing himself to look Omi in the eye as he felt those clever fingers working at his pants. "How 'bout you?" He flashed Omi a wolfish grin, eyes flashing challenge, a game face tainted by frantic lust. He had to make up for the unintentional pleading somehow...and fuck if Omi wasn't sexy when he was "mad".

Come on Omi. Give me your best shot.
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.
pichi
Aug. 24th, 2007 10:09 am (UTC)
Omi began to laugh. Quiet, affectionate and yet still somewhat dark giggling as Ken sunk into his streaming rambles, only some of them coherent and most of that nothing to be repeated.

"Ken-kun is so silly. What about this then?"

The hot spot at Ken's neck received a break. Omi sat back on Ken's legs, taking a moment to get in a nice long look at Ken lying on his bed. It was, he admitted, becoming an increasingly inviting image.

Though another blush attempted to creep back across his cheeks, he was able to push it down this time. Omi had a wicked little idea for a game.

His hand resumed that tauntingly light touch, a singular line from tip to base, and then withdrew. It was a little weird, but nothing disturbing, and certainly not that unfamiliar. Omi looked back to Ken's face, his hands politely resting on his own legs.

"Count to ten for me. No speed-counting, that's cheating."
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 25th, 2007 12:44 am (UTC)
There it was. The Innocent Face. The Herald of ultimate destruction and the Mask of A Thousand Intrigues. A face Ken knew very well, and could sometimes even see past on a clear day.

Given the situation, certain variables, and the timing of it, Ken came to the insurmountable conclusion that he was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

He realized this, and still trusted Omi enough to play along.

Ah, love.

"One," Ken croaked out a trifle shakily. "T-two..."
pichi
Aug. 25th, 2007 01:03 am (UTC)
Omi waited, still and patient, while Ken worked his way up to ten, offering not a single further touch or tease until he had.

Once Ken had reached ten - and it sounded like it hadn't been that easy of a task - Omi nodded in approval and leaned half-forward again. For ten seconds in his own silent count, he traced his fingers along the most sensitive lines he could find, ending with one more little kiss over that scar.

Then he pulled back. Ken would count to fifteen before he got another drop of attention.

Omi continued this pattern for the next several minutes. Count to fifteen, and ten seconds of light teasing. Twenty seconds for another ten. Then twenty-five - how long would Ken last, he wondered, before resorting to that sweet begging again?
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 25th, 2007 03:19 am (UTC)
"Seventeen. Eight--" A spasm wracked Ken in the middle of his count. He yelped, hitched a breath, and tried to keep going. "Nineteen-fucking hell!"

He realized too late that he messed up his count. He really couldn't play this game anymore, he needed relief so badly it was beginning to hurt, and it was to the point that he was going over the edge with or without Omi's help.

"No more please Omi just let me-fucking christ!-can't count anymore just please finish me-"

There was sweat pouring down his chest and he was pretty sure he was getting close to tears, but pride be damned, he needed to get off NOW.
pichi
Aug. 25th, 2007 03:41 am (UTC)
Nineteen-fucking hell indeed. Omi broke a grin fit to crack his face.

Now Omi leaned forward until his face hovered right. over. Ken's. Practically nose to nose. He continued to smile, but his eyes possessed a rather telling determination and ruthlessness.

Did Omi like the idea of having sex with Ken, only for him to go off and talk about it with Yohji? NO.

Did Omi currently have Ken at his absolute mercy, with the power to demand anything he wanted? YES

It was all very simple to Omi. He touched his finger to Ken's lower lip.

"You're not going to talk about this with Yohji-kun. Right..?"

Right it would be-- or someone was in for it.
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 25th, 2007 03:57 am (UTC)
"No, won't, Omi c'mon..." was all Ken could get out before he mindlessly slid that finger in his mouth just to have something to distract him from his agony.

If he were of a bit more sound mind, he would have puzzled over the request a bit more. He knew Omi was private, but why'd he go out of his way to say something?

But that was a thought for a soberer Ken. This Ken couldn't even count higher than a first grader without screwing up.
pichi
Aug. 25th, 2007 04:44 am (UTC)
That was all Omi needed to hear. Smiling at the way Ken took the finger in his mouth-- and having just enough perverse curiosity to move it suggestively back and forth in an experimental fashion-- Omi reclaimed Ken in a possessive, firm grip and asserted himself beyond any remaining doubt as now Officially Owning Hidaka Ken.

Feeling somewhat dizzy again after it was all said and done, Omi hesitated a few moments and stared at Ken, his brain finally catching up with the rest of him and Oh My God what did they just finish doing together?

Ken. Ken and he just...

Omi carefully got up and put the cleaner of his two hands behind his head, rubbing at the back in a decidedly awkward fashion.

"Heh. That was pretty interesting, wasn't it? Did you like it, Ken-kun?"
plotbunnytiff
Aug. 29th, 2007 12:23 pm (UTC)
Ken flopped an arm over his eyes after nodding mutely. He knew he couldn’t lay there for too long, but making a move to get up was out of the question. Aside from the physical weariness, he still needed a chance to collect what scraps of his mentality were left. It wasn’t the way he thought it would be, but it was still incredible, and a hell of a lot more than he really deserved.

“Yeah.” Ken finally replied, voice warm and drawled, honey sweet. “How ‘bout you?” He moved his arm and forced himself to least sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. A hot shower would be heaven right about now, if he could be sure that his legs would carry him.

An urge to flop back down in Omi’s soft bed washed over him but he ignored it, turning it into a long, reaching stretch instead and cracking his back. It wasn’t until then that he realized he was smiling. He made no attempt to stop.
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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