[lekei]
by hostilecrayon
So There I Was AKA The Sweater Cake
So there I was, standing on Touya’s front porch, ringing the bell, holding… a sweater cake.
That’s a pretty odd place to start, I know, but I really just don’t know how I’d gotten there in the first place. At that moment, all I knew was that Touya’s parents were out of town, it was his birthday, he was all alone, and my shirt felt uncomfortably tight around my neck.
I fidgeted there for a minute and was starting to wonder if he was going to answer at all when the door was tugged open by a breathless Touya, who was discreetly hiding behind it. “…Shindou? What are you doing here?”
I held out the cake awkwardly and said, “Uh… Happy Birthday?” He mumbled a thank you and just stared at me blankly. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Oh, uhm, yeah, sure.” He pulled the door back to reveal a half-buttoned, rumpled shirt and a pair of slacks that he’d obviously just pulled on, being they were zipped, but not buttoned, and if the slightest patch of dark hair against his pale skin was any indication, he wasn’t wearing underwear, either. I swallowed hard.
He blushed, trying his best to straighten his clothes, and it was only then that I noticed his hair was wet. He must have run from the shower. I just stood there in his entryway for a minute, watching him tuck in his shirt; watching him cover the expanse of his chest with each button he fastened. Finally, with a lingering rosiness on his face, he reached for the cake I’d brought.
Looking at it for the first time, Touya finally noticed the design. “Is that my…”
“Yes,” I huffed. It was embarrassing enough without saying it out loud.
It was an exact replica of his sweater that looked like it had slacks built into it. Don’t ask me why - I hated that sweater. It was the only picture I had handy.
The look on Touya’s face went from incredulous to confused to pleased in the space of a few seconds, and the unexpected urge to kiss him welled up inside of me so quickly that I almost did.
I followed him into the living room, where he put the cake down on the table, his hastily tucked in shirt riding up in the back, giving me another glimpse at his skin. I’d barely even begun to realize my feelings for him, and already I wanted to run my fingers across that bare skin. He nervously tugged at the material when he stood, and I noticed that he’d still forgotten to button his slacks. The thin blue fabric tucked there wasn’t quite dark enough, or thick enough, and I could faintly see the outline of that thick dark hair trailing down under his belly button to disappear under the waistband, beckoning me to explore further.
“…Shindou?” I looked up, feeling my cheeks redden to match his. He was just staring at me, his expression puzzled, trying to make out why I’d been looking… there. His hair clung to the sides of his face, water rolling down his neck and under his collar, soaking the thin material. His breath hitched when I closed the gap between us, but he did not move, his blue eyes never leaving mine.
Then I just did it. I grabbed hold of that teasingly thin material, pulled him towards me, and kissed him, hard, without reservations. His eyes flew wide and I closed mine, scared and wanting at the same time. He was still for a long moment, but his lips were soft against mine, and when I flicked my tongue across them, they parted, and suddenly he was pulling at my own too tight shirt, kissing me for all he was worth.
It didn’t take long for my hands to start exploring, tugging at his button-down to get to the skin underneath. He moaned into my mouth as my fingers stroked boldly across his back, his muscles rippling at my touch.
I wanted more.
I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt the best I could without breaking contact, but it just made me frustrated, and I ripped the shirt open, ignoring the weak protest from Touya. Screw it - I’d buy him another one. I didn’t waste any time finding the already undone button of his slacks, toying with the tuft of hair there, slipping a finger below the waistband to follow it further.
Akira groaned in what may have been disagreement, but he was tugging at my shirt so it must not have been all that serious. We had to break the kiss for him to pull off my shirt, and he let what was left of his fall from his arms.
I took a moment to just look at him, his wet hair mussed, his bare skin pink with arousal, his lips wet and swollen. Just as I was considering pulling down his zipper to reveal more of that dark hair I’d become so fascinated with, but Touya beat me to it, pushing me back onto the couch. Before I knew it, he was on top of me and the only thing separating us was his slacks and my boxers with the little hearts on them.
…Shut up, they were a gift.
There was more making out, and it felt so good skin against skin, and there was a brief moment where I wondered at how quickly we’d gone from hello to this; wondered if maybe we were moving a little fast. But then his erection dug into my hip and all thought was lost.
It wasn’t long after that that we were both naked, but this time, Akira hesitated. He looked around, and I stared at him, wondering what in the hell he was doing. Suddenly, his eyes locked on with the awful sweater cake, and of all things, he asked, “What kind of cake is that?”
I stared at him like he’d grown another head. I had half a mind to push him off of me and go home. We were both naked, pressed together in a terrifyingly wonderful new way, and just when I was working myself up to this whole sex thing, he was asking me about CAKE?
His eyes narrowed and he looked at me like he could read my mind - I wouldn’t doubt it if he could. Then he kissed me, rough and somehow, a little irritated. He pulled back and demanded, “Just answer the question, Shindou.”
“Vanilla,” I grumbled, “With butter cream frosting and that weird custard stuff in the middle. Ogata said it was your favorite.”
“…You actually asked Ogata what my favorite cake is?”
My cheeks must have been the temperature of the sun just then, but I managed a weak, “Yes.” Akira practically engulfed my mouth then, and I suddenly didn’t feel quite so embarrassed about it. I felt rather than saw Touya reach towards the coffee table. His elbow nudged my leg, willing it to open further, and I obliged, only to jump when something thick, wet and a little sticky brushed against my ass.
“What the?!”
“It’s the only thing we have!” He growled, and I glared at him.
“Seriously? Cake filling?!” He had that look he gives when daring me to come up with something better, and when I didn’t, he slid one of his sticky fingers inside of me.
I wasn’t all that concerned about it after that.
It felt good, but strange as he stretched me, his other hand keeping my mind occupied as it stroked my painfully stiff cock. His rhythm increased and the feeling went from good but strange to just good, and even though I could only reach his upper body, he was still panting above me. Impatience or lust, or maybe both, had him stuffing his hand into the sweater cake and rubbing the mess it left on his hand over his own aching cock.
Touya positioned himself, hovering over me, his cake covered hand on my hip, his other running up my side. He leaned in, nibbled at my ear, and breathed, “Are you ready?”
I swallowed, fisted his hair in my hands and nodded, bringing his face to mine. His tongue plundered my mouth at the same time as he pushed inside of me, stretching me wide. I bit at his lip and he groaned, waiting only a moment for me to adjust before pulling out a little and giving an experimental thrust.
My nails bit into his back when he did it again, and then again. It felt incredible and strange and I wanted him to do it more. I bucked my hips against his, encouraging him to speed up, damn it. His sweater cake covered hand came up to grab at my shoulder and he pulled at me as he thrust in harder and we made a rhythm of sorts, pink frosting and custard stuff smearing across my chest as he rammed into me.
My mouth latched on to whatever I could reach - his lips, his neck, his ears. I was lost to the rhythm of his thrusting, and when he wrapped his hand around my cock, I came almost instantly. I arched up against him, and his breathing stuttered before he collapsed against me.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, and I stared at him.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t know if you… felt that way. If you…”
“If I liked you?” He nodded against my head. “I think… maybe… it’s a lot more than like.”
He pulled back to look at me, searching my face for… something. Then he smiled, one of those rare, beautiful smiles. I wanted to put a lot more smiles on his face just like it. “I think maybe it is, too.”
I looked down at myself, noticing the uncomfortable sweater cake drying all over my skin. “Ugh, what a mess.”
“We should probably get cleaned up.”
I grinned. “Not quite yet.” With a bit of effort, I managed to flip our positions, dipping my fingers into the destroyed sweater cake. “Since it’s your birthday, I think we ought to make the most of your present, don’t you?”
I ignored his protests and slid my sticky cake fingers between his legs.
---
Up in heaven, Sai, looking down on Hikaru as he always did, blushed slightly at the sight before him. “Well,” he thought aloud, “at least they finally did it. That poor cake…”
So There I Was AKA The Sweater Cake
So there I was, standing on Touya’s front porch, ringing the bell, holding… a sweater cake.
That’s a pretty odd place to start, I know, but I really just don’t know how I’d gotten there in the first place. At that moment, all I knew was that Touya’s parents were out of town, it was his birthday, he was all alone, and my shirt felt uncomfortably tight around my neck.
I fidgeted there for a minute and was starting to wonder if he was going to answer at all when the door was tugged open by a breathless Touya, who was discreetly hiding behind it. “…Shindou? What are you doing here?”
I held out the cake awkwardly and said, “Uh… Happy Birthday?” He mumbled a thank you and just stared at me blankly. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Oh, uhm, yeah, sure.” He pulled the door back to reveal a half-buttoned, rumpled shirt and a pair of slacks that he’d obviously just pulled on, being they were zipped, but not buttoned, and if the slightest patch of dark hair against his pale skin was any indication, he wasn’t wearing underwear, either. I swallowed hard.
He blushed, trying his best to straighten his clothes, and it was only then that I noticed his hair was wet. He must have run from the shower. I just stood there in his entryway for a minute, watching him tuck in his shirt; watching him cover the expanse of his chest with each button he fastened. Finally, with a lingering rosiness on his face, he reached for the cake I’d brought.
Looking at it for the first time, Touya finally noticed the design. “Is that my…”
“Yes,” I huffed. It was embarrassing enough without saying it out loud.
It was an exact replica of his sweater that looked like it had slacks built into it. Don’t ask me why - I hated that sweater. It was the only picture I had handy.
The look on Touya’s face went from incredulous to confused to pleased in the space of a few seconds, and the unexpected urge to kiss him welled up inside of me so quickly that I almost did.
I followed him into the living room, where he put the cake down on the table, his hastily tucked in shirt riding up in the back, giving me another glimpse at his skin. I’d barely even begun to realize my feelings for him, and already I wanted to run my fingers across that bare skin. He nervously tugged at the material when he stood, and I noticed that he’d still forgotten to button his slacks. The thin blue fabric tucked there wasn’t quite dark enough, or thick enough, and I could faintly see the outline of that thick dark hair trailing down under his belly button to disappear under the waistband, beckoning me to explore further.
“…Shindou?” I looked up, feeling my cheeks redden to match his. He was just staring at me, his expression puzzled, trying to make out why I’d been looking… there. His hair clung to the sides of his face, water rolling down his neck and under his collar, soaking the thin material. His breath hitched when I closed the gap between us, but he did not move, his blue eyes never leaving mine.
Then I just did it. I grabbed hold of that teasingly thin material, pulled him towards me, and kissed him, hard, without reservations. His eyes flew wide and I closed mine, scared and wanting at the same time. He was still for a long moment, but his lips were soft against mine, and when I flicked my tongue across them, they parted, and suddenly he was pulling at my own too tight shirt, kissing me for all he was worth.
It didn’t take long for my hands to start exploring, tugging at his button-down to get to the skin underneath. He moaned into my mouth as my fingers stroked boldly across his back, his muscles rippling at my touch.
I wanted more.
I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt the best I could without breaking contact, but it just made me frustrated, and I ripped the shirt open, ignoring the weak protest from Touya. Screw it - I’d buy him another one. I didn’t waste any time finding the already undone button of his slacks, toying with the tuft of hair there, slipping a finger below the waistband to follow it further.
Akira groaned in what may have been disagreement, but he was tugging at my shirt so it must not have been all that serious. We had to break the kiss for him to pull off my shirt, and he let what was left of his fall from his arms.
I took a moment to just look at him, his wet hair mussed, his bare skin pink with arousal, his lips wet and swollen. Just as I was considering pulling down his zipper to reveal more of that dark hair I’d become so fascinated with, but Touya beat me to it, pushing me back onto the couch. Before I knew it, he was on top of me and the only thing separating us was his slacks and my boxers with the little hearts on them.
…Shut up, they were a gift.
There was more making out, and it felt so good skin against skin, and there was a brief moment where I wondered at how quickly we’d gone from hello to this; wondered if maybe we were moving a little fast. But then his erection dug into my hip and all thought was lost.
It wasn’t long after that that we were both naked, but this time, Akira hesitated. He looked around, and I stared at him, wondering what in the hell he was doing. Suddenly, his eyes locked on with the awful sweater cake, and of all things, he asked, “What kind of cake is that?”
I stared at him like he’d grown another head. I had half a mind to push him off of me and go home. We were both naked, pressed together in a terrifyingly wonderful new way, and just when I was working myself up to this whole sex thing, he was asking me about CAKE?
His eyes narrowed and he looked at me like he could read my mind - I wouldn’t doubt it if he could. Then he kissed me, rough and somehow, a little irritated. He pulled back and demanded, “Just answer the question, Shindou.”
“Vanilla,” I grumbled, “With butter cream frosting and that weird custard stuff in the middle. Ogata said it was your favorite.”
“…You actually asked Ogata what my favorite cake is?”
My cheeks must have been the temperature of the sun just then, but I managed a weak, “Yes.” Akira practically engulfed my mouth then, and I suddenly didn’t feel quite so embarrassed about it. I felt rather than saw Touya reach towards the coffee table. His elbow nudged my leg, willing it to open further, and I obliged, only to jump when something thick, wet and a little sticky brushed against my ass.
“What the?!”
“It’s the only thing we have!” He growled, and I glared at him.
“Seriously? Cake filling?!” He had that look he gives when daring me to come up with something better, and when I didn’t, he slid one of his sticky fingers inside of me.
I wasn’t all that concerned about it after that.
It felt good, but strange as he stretched me, his other hand keeping my mind occupied as it stroked my painfully stiff cock. His rhythm increased and the feeling went from good but strange to just good, and even though I could only reach his upper body, he was still panting above me. Impatience or lust, or maybe both, had him stuffing his hand into the sweater cake and rubbing the mess it left on his hand over his own aching cock.
Touya positioned himself, hovering over me, his cake covered hand on my hip, his other running up my side. He leaned in, nibbled at my ear, and breathed, “Are you ready?”
I swallowed, fisted his hair in my hands and nodded, bringing his face to mine. His tongue plundered my mouth at the same time as he pushed inside of me, stretching me wide. I bit at his lip and he groaned, waiting only a moment for me to adjust before pulling out a little and giving an experimental thrust.
My nails bit into his back when he did it again, and then again. It felt incredible and strange and I wanted him to do it more. I bucked my hips against his, encouraging him to speed up, damn it. His sweater cake covered hand came up to grab at my shoulder and he pulled at me as he thrust in harder and we made a rhythm of sorts, pink frosting and custard stuff smearing across my chest as he rammed into me.
My mouth latched on to whatever I could reach - his lips, his neck, his ears. I was lost to the rhythm of his thrusting, and when he wrapped his hand around my cock, I came almost instantly. I arched up against him, and his breathing stuttered before he collapsed against me.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, and I stared at him.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t know if you… felt that way. If you…”
“If I liked you?” He nodded against my head. “I think… maybe… it’s a lot more than like.”
He pulled back to look at me, searching my face for… something. Then he smiled, one of those rare, beautiful smiles. I wanted to put a lot more smiles on his face just like it. “I think maybe it is, too.”
I looked down at myself, noticing the uncomfortable sweater cake drying all over my skin. “Ugh, what a mess.”
“We should probably get cleaned up.”
I grinned. “Not quite yet.” With a bit of effort, I managed to flip our positions, dipping my fingers into the destroyed sweater cake. “Since it’s your birthday, I think we ought to make the most of your present, don’t you?”
I ignored his protests and slid my sticky cake fingers between his legs.
---
Up in heaven, Sai, looking down on Hikaru as he always did, blushed slightly at the sight before him. “Well,” he thought aloud, “at least they finally did it. That poor cake…”