Fic: Criticism (Shinkenger, Takeru/Chiaki, NC-17)
Summary: Takeru's found one way to make Chiaki shut up. ::waggles eyebrows:: In a manner of speaking.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Short pornishness written for softpixels, in a huge hurry, hope it amuses. ::grins::
* * *
"What?" Chiaki snapped. "I'm in the middle of something. You're hella annoying considering I already GAVE you most of my day with that battle."
Takeru licked his lips nervously, taking in the still damp hair, and the faint but indistinguishable scent of mangos. It had been a good decision to put that soap in the boys' bathroom.
"Kneel," he said smoothly.
Chiaki spluttered. "-what?"
"Kneel. I gave you an order. Now kneel."
It amazed him that Chiaki still wasn't quite at the stage of trusting him or his orders in battle. Chiaki still didn't entirely trust that when Takeru made a move, Takeru actually knew what he was doing, or when he gave an order, it was for everyone's benefit, not just for fun.
Yet Chiaki would trust him with THIS. Strange.
Enjoyable, however. Very enjoyable.
Chiaki ran a forefinger over his lips, staring Takeru in the eyes the entire time. He grinned suddenly, a filthy, speculative grin, and put his DS down. "Make me."
Takeru moved closer, allowing the snarl to appear on his face. "I said kneel."
Chiaki stood, still grinning, and aimed a punch at Takeru's face. He blocked it easily, blocked the second one as well, but the third strike was an unexpected blow to his abdomen. He bent over, gasping, and Chiaki tried a leg sweep. Takeru came up fast and before long had him from behind, forearm pressed lightly across his throat, hands locked and useless.
"I can't kneel like this," Chiaki noted, making an attempt to be casual, but Takeru took in the wildly beating pulse below the corner of his jaw, and the way his chest rose and fell. Takeru leaned forward, half cursing his height, and licked gently along the line of his jaw.
"I locked the door," he murmured into Chiaki's ear, noting the flush in the surprisingly delicate skin. "It's just us. Now kneel." He let him go.
Chiaki scowled, then licked his lips and sank to his knees in front of Takeru, who unzipped himself and pulled down his pants. Takeru took a deep breath, trying to control his own excitement, because no matter how many faults Chiaki might have normally, snarkiness and impatience and lack of dedication, he was incredibly good at this and knew how to take his time.
Chiaki licked his way along Takeru's length, snickering when Takeru felt himself twitch. "A little eager, are we?" Chiaki murmured, hand coming up to tangle itself in the small patch of hair at the base of his cock.
Takeru nodded jerkily, "A little."
"I'll get to work, then." He twirled his tongue around the head of Takeru's cock, then licked little licks across the hole. His hands were busy playing, twisting, tracing small paths from his balls around to his ass, and it was driving Takeru CRAZY, but just as he was about to plead for mercy, Chiaki's mouth closed completely around him and he felt his eyes slide shut.
What seemed like an eternity later, there was at least two fingers inside him, twisting, finding EXACTLY -- ahh! -- the right spot, and he felt his back arch. He shuddered against Chiaki, knees weak as water, but Chiaki had him firmly and he didn't fall. He never fell.
* * *
Chiaki eased him down to the floor, eyes intent on Takeru's, grinning as he finally opened his again. Takeru looked up at him, vulnerable, all defences down for once -- and this was why he did it, not because he got off on being dominated, no matter what Takeru thought.
Okay, maybe a little because he got off on being dominated.
Takeru leapt up, a hand behind his head, and dragged him down for a kiss, lips hot and hungry. He had the stamina of someone who'd trained every single day for the past eighteen years, which of course was true, but at least Chiaki could keep up with him in this.
He shoved Chiaki on his back, breathed, "I'll return the favour," and then Chiaki lost all capacity for coherent thought.
* * *
When Takeru was ready again, he found the bottle where Chiaki had dropped it, and massaged the oil into himself and inside Chiaki, carefully, not wanting to hurt him.
"Hurry, you jerk," Chiaki said crankily, arching up into Takeru's hand, and Takeru realised that yes, maybe he could go a little faster without Chiaki minding.
"Quiet," he instructed Chiaki, who subsided, and really, this was one of the MANY reasons he enjoyed this. Chiaki could actually SHUT UP at times. He twisted his fingers a little more, preparing Chiaki as well as he could, then placed his cock at the entrance.
When Chiaki whimpered in the back of his throat, he smirked down at him.
"I hate you," Chiaki muttered, but the final word ended on a rising inhalation as Takeru gently worked his way inside at last. Chiaki's eyes rolled back and he lifted his chin, the slim column of his neck flushed and sweaty.
Takeru traced a path from Chiaki's cock up to his nipple, scratching briefly before touching Chiaki's lips. Chiaki's mouth opened and he sucked a forefinger inside. Takeru gasped, because how did one person get so incredibly GOOD at this? Then he realised his other hand had gone automatically to Chiaki's cock, and they were thrusting together.
Chiaki came a few moments before he did, then they collapsed in a sweaty, sated heap, Chiaki's head on Takeru's arm.
"I still hate you," Chiaki muttered.
"I like you better when you shut up," Takeru told him honestly. "And no, you don't hate me."
Chiaki laughed, a genuine, full-throated laugh. "Whatever."
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Short pornishness written for softpixels, in a huge hurry, hope it amuses. ::grins::
* * *
"What?" Chiaki snapped. "I'm in the middle of something. You're hella annoying considering I already GAVE you most of my day with that battle."
Takeru licked his lips nervously, taking in the still damp hair, and the faint but indistinguishable scent of mangos. It had been a good decision to put that soap in the boys' bathroom.
"Kneel," he said smoothly.
Chiaki spluttered. "-what?"
"Kneel. I gave you an order. Now kneel."
It amazed him that Chiaki still wasn't quite at the stage of trusting him or his orders in battle. Chiaki still didn't entirely trust that when Takeru made a move, Takeru actually knew what he was doing, or when he gave an order, it was for everyone's benefit, not just for fun.
Yet Chiaki would trust him with THIS. Strange.
Enjoyable, however. Very enjoyable.
Chiaki ran a forefinger over his lips, staring Takeru in the eyes the entire time. He grinned suddenly, a filthy, speculative grin, and put his DS down. "Make me."
Takeru moved closer, allowing the snarl to appear on his face. "I said kneel."
Chiaki stood, still grinning, and aimed a punch at Takeru's face. He blocked it easily, blocked the second one as well, but the third strike was an unexpected blow to his abdomen. He bent over, gasping, and Chiaki tried a leg sweep. Takeru came up fast and before long had him from behind, forearm pressed lightly across his throat, hands locked and useless.
"I can't kneel like this," Chiaki noted, making an attempt to be casual, but Takeru took in the wildly beating pulse below the corner of his jaw, and the way his chest rose and fell. Takeru leaned forward, half cursing his height, and licked gently along the line of his jaw.
"I locked the door," he murmured into Chiaki's ear, noting the flush in the surprisingly delicate skin. "It's just us. Now kneel." He let him go.
Chiaki scowled, then licked his lips and sank to his knees in front of Takeru, who unzipped himself and pulled down his pants. Takeru took a deep breath, trying to control his own excitement, because no matter how many faults Chiaki might have normally, snarkiness and impatience and lack of dedication, he was incredibly good at this and knew how to take his time.
Chiaki licked his way along Takeru's length, snickering when Takeru felt himself twitch. "A little eager, are we?" Chiaki murmured, hand coming up to tangle itself in the small patch of hair at the base of his cock.
Takeru nodded jerkily, "A little."
"I'll get to work, then." He twirled his tongue around the head of Takeru's cock, then licked little licks across the hole. His hands were busy playing, twisting, tracing small paths from his balls around to his ass, and it was driving Takeru CRAZY, but just as he was about to plead for mercy, Chiaki's mouth closed completely around him and he felt his eyes slide shut.
What seemed like an eternity later, there was at least two fingers inside him, twisting, finding EXACTLY -- ahh! -- the right spot, and he felt his back arch. He shuddered against Chiaki, knees weak as water, but Chiaki had him firmly and he didn't fall. He never fell.
* * *
Chiaki eased him down to the floor, eyes intent on Takeru's, grinning as he finally opened his again. Takeru looked up at him, vulnerable, all defences down for once -- and this was why he did it, not because he got off on being dominated, no matter what Takeru thought.
Okay, maybe a little because he got off on being dominated.
Takeru leapt up, a hand behind his head, and dragged him down for a kiss, lips hot and hungry. He had the stamina of someone who'd trained every single day for the past eighteen years, which of course was true, but at least Chiaki could keep up with him in this.
He shoved Chiaki on his back, breathed, "I'll return the favour," and then Chiaki lost all capacity for coherent thought.
* * *
When Takeru was ready again, he found the bottle where Chiaki had dropped it, and massaged the oil into himself and inside Chiaki, carefully, not wanting to hurt him.
"Hurry, you jerk," Chiaki said crankily, arching up into Takeru's hand, and Takeru realised that yes, maybe he could go a little faster without Chiaki minding.
"Quiet," he instructed Chiaki, who subsided, and really, this was one of the MANY reasons he enjoyed this. Chiaki could actually SHUT UP at times. He twisted his fingers a little more, preparing Chiaki as well as he could, then placed his cock at the entrance.
When Chiaki whimpered in the back of his throat, he smirked down at him.
"I hate you," Chiaki muttered, but the final word ended on a rising inhalation as Takeru gently worked his way inside at last. Chiaki's eyes rolled back and he lifted his chin, the slim column of his neck flushed and sweaty.
Takeru traced a path from Chiaki's cock up to his nipple, scratching briefly before touching Chiaki's lips. Chiaki's mouth opened and he sucked a forefinger inside. Takeru gasped, because how did one person get so incredibly GOOD at this? Then he realised his other hand had gone automatically to Chiaki's cock, and they were thrusting together.
Chiaki came a few moments before he did, then they collapsed in a sweaty, sated heap, Chiaki's head on Takeru's arm.
"I still hate you," Chiaki muttered.
"I like you better when you shut up," Takeru told him honestly. "And no, you don't hate me."
Chiaki laughed, a genuine, full-throated laugh. "Whatever."