Mitsuru slashed viciously at the wall with his brush, unmindful of the white that splattered his shirt. Sweat coursed down his face in salty runnels, the summer heat perpetuating its torture on his tanned skin. Clad in baggy shorts and sturdy work boots, anyone would have told him he was the picture of an industrious, albeit irate, painter. And then Mitsuru would have bit their heads off. He was in a foul mood.
The object of his ire was working on the opposite wall, rolling nice, neat strokes to Mitsuru’s haphazard swipes. Shinobu was humming quietly to himself, a merry ditty that only added to his roommate’s irritation. As usual, the silver-haired boy was taking their punishment with careless indifference. In fact, he was acting as if there was nothing more in the world he would rather have been doing than slaving over the newly-remodeled wing of Greenwood in the middle of a summer heat wave.
“Are you done with that bucket?” Shinobu asked in that well-modulated voice of his, the same voice that could alternately send Mitsuru into fits of rage then melting into puddles of lust.
“No.”
“Good. Because I need a refill. Arigato.” Crossing the bare room with competent swiftness, Shinobu grabbed the paint can and began ambling back to his work area.
“I said I wasn’t done with it yet,” Mitsuru growled, dropping his brush into the tray that sat precariously on a stool and grasping at the metal handle.
“Let go, Mitsuru.”
“No.”
“I said let go!”
The boys engaged in a fierce tug-of-war which inevitably resulted in the paint can up-ending and slopping its viscous contents all over the protective plastic that covered the floor. Unfortunately, Shinobu had let go a second too soon and the majority of the paint also ended up all over his furious roommate.
The two stood frozen in shock for a brief moment then Shinobu began to chuckle. Softly at first, as was his wont, then he threw back his head and began to howl with mirth. He couldn’t help it; Mitsuru looked like a snowman on acid, his entire body covered in white latex and dripping thickly from his shaking shoulders.
Mitsuru narrowed his eyes, half in anger and half in an attempt to keep the paint from stinging his violet orbs. “Go ahead and laugh, Tezuka. It’ll be the last act of a dead man.”
Shinobu just shook his head and chortled some more, unafraid of the menace behind the other boy’s tone. He clutched at his stomach and doubled over. It was the opening Mitsuru was waiting for. Yanking another paint can from the stack in the middle of the room, the vengeful blond pried open the lid. Then, before Shinobu could defend himself, his best friend dumped the can’s entire contents on his head.
“What the --- ”
“And now we’re even!” Mitsuru stood over the boy, a smug smirk just barely visible through the white paint that decorated his face.
“You do know this means war,” Shinobu stood up and faced his foe.
Outside, a lone bird chirped an unwitting battle cry.
Both boys stared at the other for a long second then grabbed paint cans at the same time. It was a comical race to see who would get their buckets opened first. Mitsuru used the opener he still had in his hand from his first attack while Shinobu had to make do with his slippery fingers.
“Victory is mine!” Mitsuru yelled triumphantly as he raised the uncovered can over his head in preparation.
Then his eyes widened in panic. Shinobu had given up on his weapon and had snatched up the spray gun instead. An evil gleam lurked in his smoky grey eyes as he aimed the nozzle straight at Mitsuru’s face.
“Go ahead, son. Make my d --- ”
Before he could squeeze the trigger, Mitsuru dropped his can and lunged for him. The paint made footing on the plastic slick and unstable and Shinobu didn’t have a chance. He landed on his back with a resounding thump then found himself pinned by a hundred and forty pounds of sweaty, sticky male.
“I won.”
“So you did.”
The concession and utter surrender on Shinobu’s face made Mitsuru’s groin tighten in excitement.
“What do I get as my reward?”
“What do you want?”
“You have to ask?”
Mitsuru swooped down and grabbed at Shinobu’s lower lip with his teeth. Worrying the pliant flesh like a hungry dog, the blond began tugging at his roommate’s shirt, wordlessly ordering it off. The shirt was not complying. With an inarticulate growl, Mitsuru leaned back, still straddling his captive, and yanked the disobedient garment from an unresisting body.
Buttons popped free from tenuous threads, flying across the room like little plastic bullets. Mitsuru pulled open the paint-covered Oxford, exposing acres of luscious, familiar territory. He was pleased to see Shinobu’s nipples already hardening at his savage action.
“You’re going to get paint all over me,” his lover purred suggestively.
“Oh, it’s going to be more than paint covering you in a second,” he answered back, eyes sparking with wanton lust.
“Only a second? Did I tire you out that much last night?” Shinobu raised an eyebrow mockingly even as his hands came creeping up to fondle at the prominent bulge under Mitsuru’s shorts.
“Baka.”
Mitsuru brushed his lover’s hands aside and rested his own on half-clothed shoulders. Bending forward and making assiduous use of lips and mouth, he began tracing a path from the hollow of Shinobu’s throat down to one of his aroused nubs. Lathing the nipple with a raspy tongue, Mitsuru pleasured his lover while attending to his own needs by grinding his pelvis hard against the other’s. Shinobu’s head lolled back and forth and he moaned low.
The taste of sweat and the alien bitter of latex, coupled with his lover’s feral whimpers, drove Mitsuru wild. The anger he’d been feeling toward Shinobu transformed into a raging desire to ravage his body; he was not going to be gentle this day. Sitting back on his haunches, he tore off his own shirt then fell against his prisoner, corded muscle meeting supple flesh.
Elbows flanking Shinobu’s head, he proceeded with his assault, bruising his lips on his lover’s, plunging his tongue wildly into the welcoming heat of his lover’s mouth. He pulled at Shinobu’s hair painfully, all the while rubbing the length of his quivering body against an equally fervid one. The sensation of skin on skin, of tongues entwined, of growling duet, of musk and sun…
“Boku wa shitai.”
It was all the warning Shinobu was to get. In an awkward frenzy, Mitsuru yanked off his shorts and boxers with one hand, kicking off the restrictive garments from both legs. Naked now, except for his boots which were much too inconvenient to remove at the moment, Mitsuru propped himself up on his knees just enough to maneuver. Before Shinobu could protest, he used his lust-driven strength and the helpfully slippery plastic to flip his lover onto his stomach.
He made short order of Shinobu’s clothes, pulling off Oxfords, shorts and shoes with enviable efficiency. The usually composed boy was trembling, but whether from outrage at being rendered submissive or a burgeoning desire was irrelevant. The sight of his bare buttocks and spread-eagled arms on a canvas of splattered white was all Mitsuru could focus on.
He reached underneath and grabbed hold of Shinobu’s shaft, stroking and tugging it to stiff attention. His lover accommodated his ministrations by instinctively raising himself up on his knees, bringing his rear tantalizingly closer to Mitsuru’s own need, moaning all the while.
Mitsuru leaned forward until both his chest and his pelvis rested like electric heat against Shinobu’s passion-sensitive back. Shinobu gasped at the contact and at the continued ministrations to his hardening. He arched for more, arms outstretched and hands clutching at plastic.
“Play nice, Mitsu,” Shinobu panted heavily, wincing at the pleading tone in his voice but unable to stop himself. If his lover didn’t do what they both wanted soon, he would spend too early and miss the thrill of coming with him at the same time.
“I haven’t forgiven you yet, you know,” Mitsuru murmured back, quickening his fondling until his fingers felt a slickness that he knew was not paint. Shinobu was almost ready.
“Wakaru. Demo…ato de…shaberu. Sore wa…sore wa…”
“Sore wa…kono?”
Mitsuru’s hand slid down the length of his lover’s shaft and fisted his scrotum, bending low and plunging his tongue deep inside him at the same time. It was too much to take all at once. Shinobu’s knees gave out as his stomach spiked with needling fire. He collapsed on the plastic, forcing Mitsuru to release his sack, and began thrusting against its slippery surface. Mitsuru replaced his tongue with two fingers that danced in and out in synch with Shinobu’s thrusts.
“Ima…onegai, koi. Ima!”
Shinobu’s croon made Mitsuru give up all pretense of being in control. Pulling his fingers out and spreading his lover’s buttocks in readiness, he plunged himself in deep and fast. The scream that lacerated Shinobu’s throat was borne of pain and ecstasy as Mitsuru filled him utterly and absolutely.
“Daijobu ka?”
“Hai…iie…I want…to see…your face…” Shinobu whimpered.
“Ah, boku no koi…”
Instantly penitent but still raging with suppressed desire, Mitsuru withdrew slowly and helped his lover turn over. Half afraid to see his expression, Mitsuru was greeted by a distant smile and lust-hazed grey. Before he could make sense of the conflicting signals, Shinobu wrapped his legs around his waist and offered himself again.
“This way is best.”
Staring down at that beautiful face, Mitsuru needed no further encouragement. Positioning himself with a control that defied all reason, he thrust in gently, allowing Shinobu to set the pace. Accommodating Mitsuru’s size was easier the second time around, aided by their new position. Shinobu raised himself up and twined his arms around his lover’s neck, still impaled, and Mitsuru rocked back until they were both sitting upright.
Gripping his lover by the biceps, Mitsuru urged him up and down, pressing close so that Shinobu’s own untended need could rub sensually against the sweat-slick skin of his stomach. Stars exploded behind Shinobu’s eyes as Mitsuru hit that spot. Again and again, they thrust against each other in a furiously erotic lambada, chests heaving and breaths hot.
Then Shinobu captured Mitsuru’s eyes, readiness gleaming in his own smoldering grey. His lover tensed in agreement then slammed him down in one, final thrust. Shinobu threw back his head and arched his back, mouth wide open in a soundless scream of climax. As hot liquid spilled onto his chest, Mitsuru throbbed, convulsed and shuddered violently as he, too, spiraled into climax.
Shinobu slid bonelessly from his grasp and fell back on the plastic in shameless, naked abandon. “Yatta! I’m exhausted.”
“Exhausted? Who did all the work here?” Mitsuru eased out gingerly then pushed off from his lover, standing and putting fists to hips in mock outrage.
“Ah, koi. You know you like being in control once in a while.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you let me be in control.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re treading on thin ice here, Tezuka. I’m still mad at you for getting us in this situation in the first place.”
“Really? I could have sworn you liked the positions we were in.”
“Baka!”
“Nice comeback.”
The summer sun waltzed merrily into the room and flirted with the sinewy muscles of Mitsuru’s arms as he kept them akimbo. He towered over his lounging lover and the blond Adonis image would have been perfect if not for the white paint that still striped his skin and the irked frown that graced his face.
Shinobu let his eyes wander complacently over his lover’s naked form. He was replete from their lovemaking and smug from having flustered Mitsuru once again. The boy was cocky enough as it was; it really wasn’t good to cater to his overweening ego. And playing the submissive today was ego-stroking enough.
Lust satiated, at least for the moment, Mitsuru gritted his teeth as the pendulum swung the other way and Shinobu’s sultry voice began irritating him once more. Then a sudden thought hit him and his scowl became a merry grin as he remembered something that was sure to see him back on top of this situation again. Staring at the half-painted wall with a faraway look in his violet eyes, Mitsuru’s smile widened as he heard Shinobu’s horrified gasp.
“Oh my god! You did it with boots on!”
~owari~
*********
notes: (loosely translated coz I’m still not that good in Japanese and I only had a dictionary to guide me)
Boku wa shitai. : I want you.
Wakaru. Demo…ato de…shaberu. Sore wa…sore wa… : I know. But talk later. Just…just…
Sore wa…kono? : Just…this?
Ima…onegai, koi. Ima! : Now…please, love. Now!
Daijobu ka? : Are you all right?
Hai…iie… : Yes…no…
Ah, boku no koi… : Ah, my love…