ryohibaaaa
untitled
ryohiba
i have no fucking idea what this is. character study? lmfao.
Their relationship was strange, at best.
Courting had consisted of fights. He'd come to the dojo, they'd talk, start arguing, and exchange blows, until both were battered and bruised because despite it all they were (nearly) equal now. Their first date had been, if you wanted to label it, yet another fight, this time on his turf, and they had kissed feverishly on the floor of the ring after he lost for the first and only time against him. Sex was initiated with a fight as well. It was their foreplay, an exchange of hits that was almost too scripted by this point--even the injuries sustained seemed too perfectly placed, too similar to the weeks before. At some point, one of them would be pinned to a table, or a wall, or the floor, and, if they were particularly careful, the bed, and then the sex was fast and violent, leaving more blood and bruises than the fight that had started it all.
Afterglow basking lasted all of five minutes before one or the other decided to leave, sometimes with a final stolen kiss, or a final, rough bite to the shoulder that broke the skin, a trail of blood staining wrinkled, white fabric, leaving everyone else to wonder where the injury had come from.
They weren't exclusive, and they weren't "together," but neither really ever bothered with anyone else. And when they did--or, one of them did, since he had never really seen the reason behind 'relationships' anyway; it was just too much work for too little profit--sex ended up being a bit more violent. Neither complained.
So, really, there wasn't a way to classify what 'they' were, or if they even were a 'they.' When it came down to it though, and skin was touching skin in a very public setting, neither really thought it mattered.
ryohiba
i have no fucking idea what this is. character study? lmfao.
Their relationship was strange, at best.
Courting had consisted of fights. He'd come to the dojo, they'd talk, start arguing, and exchange blows, until both were battered and bruised because despite it all they were (nearly) equal now. Their first date had been, if you wanted to label it, yet another fight, this time on his turf, and they had kissed feverishly on the floor of the ring after he lost for the first and only time against him. Sex was initiated with a fight as well. It was their foreplay, an exchange of hits that was almost too scripted by this point--even the injuries sustained seemed too perfectly placed, too similar to the weeks before. At some point, one of them would be pinned to a table, or a wall, or the floor, and, if they were particularly careful, the bed, and then the sex was fast and violent, leaving more blood and bruises than the fight that had started it all.
Afterglow basking lasted all of five minutes before one or the other decided to leave, sometimes with a final stolen kiss, or a final, rough bite to the shoulder that broke the skin, a trail of blood staining wrinkled, white fabric, leaving everyone else to wonder where the injury had come from.
They weren't exclusive, and they weren't "together," but neither really ever bothered with anyone else. And when they did--or, one of them did, since he had never really seen the reason behind 'relationships' anyway; it was just too much work for too little profit--sex ended up being a bit more violent. Neither complained.
So, really, there wasn't a way to classify what 'they' were, or if they even were a 'they.' When it came down to it though, and skin was touching skin in a very public setting, neither really thought it mattered.