Nothing was helping. Not sucking on an ice cube--that just made his teeth ache, because, well, he forgot and then crunched on the thing. Not a very cold shower. Not even two cold showers, one in the locker room after club--and then another one, once he'd gotten home, to wash off the sweat that had built up on the bus ride back to the apartment. At least the bus hadn't been crammed full--he'd definitely have killed someone, if it had been. At first, he'd thought that the sweat had to be at least partially the fact that it had been a rough day at practice, because sometimes you just kept sweating for awhile afterwards, but the fact was, even an hour after, with all the windows thrown open, he was still sweating.
Nothing was helping.
Damn it, it was hot out today.
He couldn't believe Atobe had made them run laps in this heavy, muggy heat--it'd been like just asking for one of the team members to keel over with heatstroke or something. Sadistic bastard. Shishido was pretty damned sure he'd seen a freshman or two drop flat on his dripping face right in the middle of the run, but he couldn't really be positive--the waves of heat rising off the tennis courts and the sweat that had kept running into his eyes had kind of made it hard to tell, since he'd been concentrating on keeping his gaze right smack on his own toes. He'd been pretty sure Mukahi (sometimes he still got mistaken for a freshman) hadn't passed out, because, well, eyes glued to his own feet or not, Shishido definitely would have noticed the red hair plopping on the ground.
Too bad.
"Shishido-san!" the door opened with a little tinkle--okay, when had Ootori hung a bell over the door?!--and a laugh that followed it. "Tadaima!"
How his partner and roommate could be so damned perky when it had to be at least thirty-eight in their room (because, of course, their friggin' aircon had coughed a couple of times last night and then died, and the repairmen were all fully booked because everyone else's cooler was doing the same thing) really was beyond Shishido. He wasn't wearing anything but his boxers, because it was just too damned hot to be anything like modest even if Shishido had been the kind to care, while Ootori was fully dressed, with his sleeves rolled up just a little, and still in his school pants, and he was still a damned sight more cheerful that Shishido was feeling. Shishido might have considered snapping at the boy, except... well...
Ootori was just so damned cute with that bright smile on his lips and in his deep cherrywood eyes...
Shishido settled for a "Yo. Okaeri. Where'd you go?"
It had been beyond weird--Ootori had gone running off right after club. Seriously, you'd think that as tall as he was, he'd feel the heat as much as anyone--and Shishido had seen him sweating when it had been their turn to play, and the sweat melted all that silver hair even darker, flushing those tanned cheeks. From the way he was smiling, though, Shishido could have been able to swear that it was a nice breezy, sunny day at the beach.
Ootori raked one hand through his hair--well, it must've been hot, because that fine, short silver hair, almost pewter with sweat, stood on end when he did that before flopping back over, and Shishido had to stifle a hint of a smile at the lump it made. Yeah. Okay. So his Choutarou was cute, no matter what the weather. "Well, it's so hot out, I thought I'd get us something nice."
Yeah. That was just the kind of thing he'd do--just because, well, he was such a nice guy. Shishido grinned back, a little weakly--why hadn't he thought of that?--and shook his head. "Yeah, it's pretty nasty. I think we're gonna have somen for dinner tonight, 'kay? I started the noodles already."
They'd gotten used to just dealing with the cooking as it came along--and, well, even Shishido could deal with boiling and then icing the thin egg noodles, and then serving out the cold sauce right out of the bottle. He'd gotten out the last of the shrimp, too, and chopped some of the sweet shiitake mushrooms that they normally used for chawan mushi, because, well--the cold dipping noodles, as great as they were when it was hot out, could get kind of boring on their own. "Not a problem, right?"
Ootori grinned back, and leaned over him to plant a big, wet, sweet, cool--Cool? Sweet?--kiss on his lips. The other two things he was used to--okay, not used to, exactly, but used to enjoying, anyway, as torturous as they could be sometimes when he was in the mood, but... "That would be great, Shishido-san! I love somen."
And, yeah, so maybe Shishido's decision to make somen for dinner, since it was his turn anyway, had had a little to do with that. He had to laugh--damn it, being with Ootori really had made him kind of goofy. "So what did you get? And why do you--" he licked his lips, once. Cherry? What the--? Now that he thought about it, Ootori's mouth was a little rosier than normal, but--it just seemed a really weird thing to ask someone why they tasted different. If that was lipstick, or someone's lip gloss or something, someone was going to have to die--but Shishido didn't really think that that was it.
It wasn't that he had faith in anyone else's sense of control--and who wouldn't want to kiss his Choutarou? On the other hand, there was no way Ootori was letting any girl kiss him on the lips--no matter how much they might have wanted to. Hell, Shishido knew he got kind of bristly sometimes when someone tried to tug his partner down to kiss his cheek, even if Ootori just laughed and soothed and was so apologetic, afterwards, when he said they didn't mean anything by it.
Mine.
Ootori grinned, proudly, and sat down on the sofa next to him, raising the bag triumphantly. "I got us popsicles. I hope you don't mind that I had one on the way home..."
Shishido blinked, then started to smile, tentatively.
Well, popsicles would be a good idea for keeping cool at least until the somen was ready--all the fan in the corner seemed to be doing was stirring around the sticky heat.
No wonder Ootori was cheerful--it really was just like him to think of something like that for them to share. They were both pretty fond of iced candies--Ootori liked lemon, he liked cherry, and they normally tried to pick some up when they were out getting groceries, but they'd eaten the last of them a few days ago and hadn't needed to go to the store quite yet... "Hey, great." Shishido grinned, and cocked his head. "Thanks, Choutarou. You didn't need to do that."
Ootori smiled back down at at him, and the warmth that hit Shishido's cheeks felt oddly good, for a moment.
He thought iced candies were a great idea for all of maybe five seconds.
And then it hit him that Ootori was probably going to be eating a popsicle, too. Well, of course he was, he'd gone out and bought the things.
And Shishido was wearing nothing but a pair of not-very-concealing boxers.
Oh, shit.
Okay. Sure. He could deal with this. He'd dealt with things worse than this before (maybe.) At least Ootori would be eating a lemon popsicle--they didn't have the tendency to stain his lips temptingly red, as Shishido knew happened to him when he ate a cherry one... and, well, there was just something about Ootori licking happily away at something so very, well... crimson that just did some very bad things to him. Thank the gods his roommate's favourite flavour was lemon.
Except... Ootori's lips most definitely hadn't tasted like lemon.
Warily, Shishido blinked, as Ootori pulled two more--he must have gotten the box from the back of the cooler at the store, the popsicles didn't look as if they'd melted at all and there was a thin rime of ice still on their clear plastic wrappers--ice candies from the bag.
Both red.
Shishido cleared his throat--it really was sick how nothing at all was happening, and his mouth was already going all hot and dry with anticipation--and managed to croak out, half-casually, "No lemon, huh?"
Ootori flashed him a brief, chagrined smile as he stood, all long legs, to slip the box into the freezer, reaching up to run his fingers through his own damp silver hair again. This time, the touch left it a ruffled mess of limp, clammy strands falling every which direction. Shishido rolled his eyes a little, and reached out as Ootori sat down beside him to comb through that tangle with his fingertips until the soft waves lay flat, so that at least his roommate wouldn't have to look like he had a silver nest sitting on his head, or something. Okay, his own hair probably wasn't any better, but still. It was growing. He had an excuse. "Well, they had lemon, but I thought getting two boxes would be too much, and they didn't have any mixed boxes," Ootori offered him something that was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. Shishido wasn't very reassured, but that kind of wasn't his Choutarou's fault. "And I like cherry, too, so it's okay."
It was also very much like Ootori to get a box of cherry popsicles because Shishido liked them, rather than a box of lemon because they were his personal favourite.
This was just one of those times when he wondered why the Hell Ootori had to be so damned nice.
It was with a deep and sudden sense of foreboding that Shishido closed his eyes, barely managed to stifle a groan, and realised that no, popsicles weren't going to do a great deal towards making the room seem any cooler--for one of them, at least.
He heard the too-loud crinkling of the papery wrapper, and tried to squeeze his eyes more tightly shut--but it didn't help, not when he knew how Ootori ate the things, and it was really strange how, well, before they'd gotten together, he'd been able to enjoy watching him eat ices without even flinching, but now...
But now all he really could do was concentrate very, very hard on his own iced candy--and concentration wasn't too difficult, was it? He'd had a lot of practice focusing on what he was supposed to be doing, not what was right in front of him. It was pretty simple (nowadays) to keep from looking at Ootori's firm, pert rear moving when they were playing tennis together, because, well, it was tennis, and thinking about sex and Ootori and the way Ootori's mouth fell just a little open when he panted for breath was for after the game. So why was it that concentrating on unwrapping his popsicle was so damned difficult when he could see little hitches of movement just out of the corner of his eyes...
"Damn it," he swore, just underneath his breath, and ripped the little paper wrapper open almost viciously before dropping it into the wastebasket. He could do this. Come on, he could be normal around Ootori--they'd laughed and had fun on hot days, and eaten ice cream and Popsicles together before... before any of this.
Hell, it was just about the best thing that had ever happened to Shishido. Guys like Ootori Choutarou, who did things like thinking of bringing home a box of his favourite flavour of ice candy on a really hot day, just... didn't end up with guys like him.
What they had hadn't ever been about sex. And if he didn't stop making it all about sex, he knew one of these days he was going to scare Ootori away, and Hell, if that happened--
Shishido growled at the unpleasant thought, just a little, and crunched down on the end of his popsicle hard enough that his teeth clicked together. The sweet, sticky ice, though, felt so good melting in his mouth that he couldn't stay irritated--either with himself, Ootori, or just the way that the world in general was such a pain--and he half-closed his eyes to enjoy the chill, feel it trickling down his throat as he chewed and swallowed. Wow, this was a lot better than an ice cube... "Oh, man, that's good. Thanks, Choutarou."
"Mmm. My pleasure, Shishido-san," Ootori mumbled, beside him.
Shishido knew better than to look--nuh-uh, he really didn't want to know what was going on over there, really--and instead took another bite of his own popsicle. Crunch, and then the melt, like little trickles of cool over his teeth, and the sides of his tongue, and he half-closed his eyes before he swallowed and took another bite--smaller, this time. He wasn't normally into making things last, but the little bits of frosty air that drifted up from the candy, and swirled into his face whenever he breathed, felt good enough that he sighed, blinked at the little wisp of misty air his own breath produced for a second, and grinned at the soft slurp beside him as he turned to ask how Ootori was enjoying his popsicle--
Okay, he'd just forgotten far too quickly why he wasn't supposed to be looking at Ootori.
He knew his mouth was hanging open. Sure, it was because he'd been about to ask his partner a question--though he couldn't remember for the life of him what it'd been, and sure, it didn't matter, because Ootori's eyes were closed anyway--but dear friggin' gods...
It wasn't that Ootori had a talented mouth, or anything stupid or cliché like that. And he liked food just 'bout as much as anyone else, Shishido thought. But watching him eat a popsicle was just, well... kind of like Heaven in Hell, or something. Or maybe the other way around.
It wasn't like Ootori was... well, sexual, or anything. 'Cause he wasn't. Shishido knew that. If he'd been more of a masochist, he'd have probably been able to laugh about it, even. But holyShintogods it was so damned hard to believe that Ootori didn't mean anything by it when Shishido was watching his partner go down on a piece of iced candy.
Shishido watched, mesmerised, as the tip of Ootori's tongue slid out to catch a melting droplet at the very base of the iced candy--and he followed the sweet all the way up to what was left of the top in one long lick. And then Ootori closed his lips around the head--no, no, the tip--oh, man, no, that wasn't helping--the end of the popsicle. Eyes still closed. And there was just the softest inviting sound as he sucked on the bit he had in his mouth, just a little...
Geez. Geez, who did things like that...?
Shishido promptly decided that the world hated him, because, well, evidently, his partner wasn't quite done with his sweet yet, even after the end had been blanched white by his sucking. Ohhh, no, he had to nibble on the bit he'd been sucking on--why couldn't Ootori nibble like a normal person and use his teeth, rather than sort of, well, just moving his lips and tongue against the bit of candy until it slipped into his mouth again?
And then Ootori did it again.
Except this time, he turned the popsicle and started just sliding his lips and the tip of his tongue down the side of the iced candy, slowly pursing his mouth around each little nibble--like a kiss. And back up again, with the same torturous little touches. And it was like, it was just too easy--Shishido could imagine what it might be like with those soft, plush lips on him, and gods, he just knew there was going to be a wet patch on his boxers if he looked down at them--but Hell, maybe Ootori didn't actually want to do that kind of thing, and wouldn't that just... well, be too awful for words?
Then again, Shishido was beginning to think that maybe this whole little joke couldn't possibly get any worse.
On the other hand, that was before Ootori half-opened his eyes to look critically at what was left of his iced candy... and then, evidently having come to some kind of decision...
Oh, gods, no, Ootori wasn't going to... yeah, he was, making his way down one of the popsicles until he'd pretty much just slid the whole thing into his mouth. Slowly. And then sucked on it, with a soft little sound.
Shishid bit down on his moan of agony. Hard.
Well, there wasn't a doubt in Shishido's mind that Ootori was enjoying his little treat, at least. Kinda hard to think otherwise when every so often, whenever he had his mouth moving, he let out the tiniest, sexiest little "Mmm" kind of purr...
Shishido didn't dare breathe. If he did, something was going to just go pop inside him, all the tight tension coiled in his belly snapping into fragments of control, and by the time he did manage to hiss in an aching breath he was sort of surprised that he was still sitting where he was supposed to be sitting--not stradding his boyfriend's lap and pressing his cock against his Choutarou's as he devoured those cherry-flavoured, cherry-stained lips. Or... something. Or... geez, didn't Ootori say he'd eaten one of the popsicles on the way back? It was a miracle no-one had tried to jump him...
Shishido frowned at the horrible thought, his attention diverted for just an instant.
What the Hell was that cold thing dribbling in his hand...?
Oh. Right. Popsicle.
With a loud hiss of irritation at himself, Shishido realised that he must've been watching Ootori for long enough that the remains of his own Popsicle had dripped streamers of crimson all down his fingers to puddle in the hollow between his thumb and forefinger, plopping onto the floor. "Damn," he muttered, dropping the pitiful stub of red into the trash can--somehow, eating it had kind of lost all appeal--and shaking his hand--but all that succeeding in doing was spreading the sticky syrup to his middle finger, too. Ugh.
Ootori opened his eyes, and blinked at him, looking more than a little puzzled. There wasn't more than the tiniest bit of cherry popsicle left on the stick, but his lips looked... damn, sweetly cherry-red, almost swollen with the cold... "Shishido-san? Is something wrong?"
Shishido half-closed his eyes. It wasn't that he thought that Ootori would be able to see the hunger in them--well, okay, it was that he thought that Ootori would be able to see the hunger in them. Hell, he figured an old blind man could've poked him with a cane and figured it out, but then again, his Choutarou wasn't an old blind man thank the gods--but geez, this was so friggin' embarrassing. Shishido wasn't normally much of one to give a damn over what was 'appropriate' or not, but... somehow, slobbering all over his roommate when Ootori was just trying to enjoy a popsicle on a way-too-hot day... definitely not cool. "Uh... nah, just... uh, thinking of something, that's all."
"Oh, I see." Shishido's eyes widened as tiny, tiny little twitch of a smile moved the corner of Ootori's mouth before it smoothed away, and his roommate blinked, all wide-eyed innocence again, that was--waittaminute, too innocent even for him... as Ootori polished off the last of his popsicle. With one long, soft, almost inaudible slurp. As a hint of a blush began to rise on his cheeks, paler than the iced sweet, just about the same shade as his lips. Oh-my-gods-I-am-going-to-kill-him. "Shishido-san, you've got syrup all over your fingers. Do you want me to clean them off for you...?"
The tip of Ootori's tongue slipped out, stained with the cold candy, and unmistakably ran a little flick over his top lip.
Shishido's eyes snapped fully open, and he stared.
It was taking a long, long time for Shishido to swallow. But then again, maybe that was because there was nothing at all to swallow in a mouth that was starting to feel about as dry as the sere grass outside the window. His Choutarou hadn't just said that. He had not just said that... and he had most definitely not licked his lips when he'd said it.
Tease. Bloody. Bloody. Tease. Okay. Ootori was innocent. Yeah, he was, still.
Ootori also knew very well what it did to him whenever that soft, slick tongue was on his fingers... he knew because he'd done it before. And it had left him with a hickey on his shoulder that had lasted for more than a week.
"You planned this, didn't you," Shishido growled. It was the only thing that he could think of. Oh, Hell. Get ahold of yourself, Shishido. Still, though, wasn't this kind of like giving a starving man just one cracker, or something...? It wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed it, in some kind of weird and masochistic way...
He felt like he was starving, all right--Hell, with how hot the day was, he felt like he was burning, and no amount of eating that popsicle that had been dripping sticky syrup over his fingers, or the somen that was cooling on the countertop, was going to do anything to put out that fire. Shishido shook his head, trying to scare away the images of Ootori's mouth wrapped around that cool popsicle, trying to shake away the memory of those soft lips closing gently around his fingers and watching those fingers disappear past them as Ootori bobbed. "Damn it, Choutarou...!" he began to snarl, before he cut himself off.
Shishido took one long deep breath that felt stifled in the too-hot air. He was going to wait. Damn it, he was going to wait, and he was not going to jump on his roommate. Just because Ootori was being a tease didn't mean that sex, or anything sexual, was something he wanted. Ootori was going to have to make the first move. They'd agreed on that.
Teasing him like this was definitely not making the first move. Yeah. No matter what his body might have been screaming. Hell, he'd lived through brutal nightly practices that had left him aching all over, and just plain kept on playing. This was just another game, and a different kind of ache. Right? Yeah. Sure.
All the same, thinking in very, very short sentences was the only way he was going to be able to keep a hold of himself.
Ootori blinked at him, very, very slowly, his mahogany eyes wide as that tiniest hint of a smile faded. "Um. Planned... um, what, exactly, Shishido-san...?" his eyes widened, further, soft and wet and--oh, shit. Hurt. Just a little hurt. "Are... are you mad at me...?"
There was genuine confusion in his eyes--Shishido took a long, long moment to digest that before he settled back on the sofa, and closed his eyes, swallowing. The hurt in that gaze left a knot low and deep, hot and throbbing in his throat, that had nothing to do with lust, and nothing to do with the heat that still swirled around the room. Shit. He knew better than to yell at him.
No, okay, maybe Ootori hadn't planned all this to torture him. It'd been stupid of him to think that--and Hell, he knew his roommate better than to think that kind of thing... that'd just been the stupid frustration talking, and stupider Shishido actually listening to it. "Damn... no. No." He managed half of a tight smile into the dark behind his eyes before he opened them to look at his partner. "Oh, Hell. Sorry, Choutarou. It's... not you." Well, actually, it was his Choutarou, but it wasn't his Choutarou's fault.
Ootori looked away, and the knot in Shishido's throat swelled, painfully. "But if it's not me... then why...? You sound... upset."
It was unbelievable that Ootori not know just how, well, hot he was, but... he didn't. He honestly, honestly didn't, Shishido was only just beginning to figure that out these past few months, and it made a wry grin start tugging on his lips. "Damn," he shook his head. "You've got no idea what you do to me, do you...?" Hell, if he even glanced at my crotch, he'd know--but he's Ootori. Of course he doesn't look. "How hot you make me?"
Ootori might have had his face turned away, but he was looking at Shishido, at least--Shishido could see that, Ootori's gaze peeping at him through the frame of those ridiculously long, iron-grey lashes. "But, Shishido-san, I... I don't know what I did." The fading blush stopped fading--started brightening, again, and his hand went to his cross before Shishido could even think of stopping him. "I thought you liked it when I... when I... um..." he gestured, vaguely, with his free hand before touching his own lips, lightly--turned, just a little, just enough that the knot eased. "You know. Licked your fingers like that."
At that, Shishido had to smile--pained as it was. Damn--he really was innocent. And he really was so unbelievably cute, sometimes. "D'you want another hickey, Choutarou?" he shook his head, incredulous--and amused despite himself. He... didn't have a clue, did he. "'Cause, seriously, you're sure to get one if you try that again."
On the other hand, as much as it'd be fun to freak out Gakuto again by giving Ootori another hickey, Shishido just wasn't trusting his control right this moment.
Ootori blinked at him--once, slowly, again. "But... Shishido-san, I've... I've got a shirt on, this time. Doesn't that mean you're... you're not...? Um. Excited...?"
Shishido's mouth dropped open--he could almost feel the blush rising to his own cheeks--it was a damned good thing that he didn't really blush too obviously, dark as he was. And oh, if Ootori didn't know just how badly Shishido had a hard-on for him--Shishido definitely wasn't going to be the one to tell him to check and see. Tempting as it was. "Choutarou," he explained, patiently, and maybe just a little shakily. "You could turn me on wrapped head to toe in winter clothes." Hell, he has. "An' I know you don't mean it with the finger sucking, and the walking around in your boxers, and the popsicles, but... Hell, I can take 'em one at a time, sometimes, and oh, yeah, I like it, but... c'mon, Choutarou. Be fair, 'kay? I know you don't think 'bout these things, an' you don't do 'em on purpose, but... it's damned hard for me, you know?"
And then he blinked, because something that was almost like guilt flickered across that face, fast and bright as that familiar blush--which was deepening as Ootori looked away from him. "Choutarou? Hell, I'm sorry--I didn't mean it to sound like that, it's not your fault..."
Ootori spoke up before Shishido could apologise for being such a horny bastard--he still wasn't looking at Shishido, and he sounded guilty and embarrassed as Hell, and Shishido was so damned sure Ootori was about to take the blame for something that was all Shishido's fault again... "The... the finger thing. Um, I meant... to do that."
Shishido blinked. O-kay, maybe it wasn't something that was his fault. "You meant...?"
Ootori nodded, silently bringing his hands together as if trying to keep himself from grabbing at his cross. "Because... I like, well, um..." Ootori's blush was flamingly crimson--brighter than Shishido's comforter as he kneaded his fingers together in his lap, and Shishido watched the tense and clench of those longer fingers pressing and releasing like that, not so different from the way Ootori played with his cross when he was nervous. " I'm sorry I... um, teased you like that. It's just... I like having your fingers... um, in my mouth."
Oh, Hell.
That was definitely not what he'd expected his roommate to say.
Shishido sucked in a breath, fast, let it fill him--let it force out the urge to grab Ootori and plaster him to the couch--and let it out as slowly as he could. Forget Shishido killing Ootori. He'd keel over dead himself before he even got a chance to try. "God, Choutarou..." he managed to get out, in a voice that really didn't sound anything at all like his own--harsh, rough. And he wanted to tell Ootori not to say things like that, dammit, because it just did the worst things ever to him--but at the same time, oh, man, how it felt to hear him say that...
"But... but I don't understand," damned, but his Choutarou sounded so puzzled. "I mean, I thought you liked popsicles, Shishido-san..."
Nope. He still wasn't getting it. Shishido looked away for a moment--anywhere but at the partner whose words could still punch into his gut and leave him gasping, away from the lips still dark with ice candy syrup and those earnest, earnest... dark-with-heat eyes. Oh, Hell, if Ootori kept looking at him like that...
His eyes fell on the offending fingers--his own--that had started this whole thing, still wet and drippy, sticky now and stained with the same shade of red as Ootori's cheeks.
Ah...hah.
Despite himself, Shishido smiled, and found himself able to turn back to his partner. "Choutarou--y'know how you eat your popsicles, right? Ever seen yourself do it?" They were both pretty visual people, right?
Ootori blinked back at him--earnest, puzzled by the change in subject, maybe, but that was a helluva lot better than the guilt. "I... well, I just eat them... don't I?"
If Ootori was going to tease him--then it was fair play for him to tease Ootori back.
"I wish," Shishido muttered--before he brought two of his cherry-stained fingers up to his lips. And looked into Ootori's eyes, watching them widen as he dipped his tongue in quick flicks over just his fingertips. And then slid his mouth over them, just a little, and licked at the pads, rasping away the syrup. And then slid his lips down the sides of his fingers, parted just enough that he could suck away at the sweetness with soft little noises...
It felt a little weird, yeah, doing it to his own too-sweet, sticky fingers. His own tongue, while it was pretty soft, didn't send anything through him even remotely close to the chills Ootori's lips on his fingers did, and the feel of his mouth's heat didn't make skitters of lightning shoot down his back.
But oh, yeah, the look in Ootori's eyes as they went wide, and his mouth dropped open, just a little, when Shishido slid his mouth down his own fingers--and there was an audible little gulp as his Choutarou swallowed--oh, yeah, that definitely did it for him.
Ootori's voice wasn't much more than a little squeak--well, after he'd cleared his throat a time or two, and Shishido realised, much to his own chagrin, that watching the expressions slide across his face like that, heat past all that cute innocence, the heady, heady knowledge that even though he wasn't ready--and maybe he wouldn't be ready for awhile--Ootori still wanted him... oh, geez, it had gotten him harder than ever. "Shishido-san! I... I don't eat my popsicles like that, do I...?"
Shishido lowered his hand back to his lap, and raised an eyebrow. Geez. Thank the gods Ootori never looked at his crotch. "Yeah. You do." His other eyebrow came up--and Hell, Ootori knew he wanted him, he couldn't get all that much more scared by just words, right? "D'you know how hard it is to keep from jumping you when I watch you eat those things? 'Specially when your popsicle's melting, and then you just catch the drop at the bottom and..." oh, Hell, it was embarrassing how just the memory of it made him clear his throat. "...and lick all the way to the top?"
Ootori swallowed, again, shaking his head, slowly--and Shishido watched the way that pale throat moved, with something that almost felt like greed. Gods, yes, just a little--just a little, he'll tell me to stop...
He leaned down and closed his lips, gently, around the tendon that strained against his tongue as Ootori leaned his head back, just a little further, with a tiny sigh--and a low, rumbling purr, like the tiniest echoes of a growl. "Ah... Shishido-san..." And, just as Shishido sucked, lightly, on that corded bit of muscle straining in his roommate's neck, his hand running slow dance steps on Ootori's thigh--he knew he was going too far, knew that his sweet, innocent partner was going to push him away any second now, and he could feel the taut muscle under his fingers trembling... but then Ootori moaned, a little gasp of a sound.
"Damn..." he felt his own voice trembling against his roommate's neck, heard it echo in his chest rather than his throat, almost a growl. He knew how sensitive Ootori's neck was--he'd found out mostly by accident, when Ootori had been working at his desk one day and Shishido had meant to kiss his shoulder, but had ended up turning his head to kiss the little arc bared by Ootori's shirt, instead. He'd been surprised as Hell when Ootori had made a soft, surprised little "Ah!" sound... and then purred, softly, when Shishido did it again. And he normally kept away from there, because those little noises that Ootori made when he had his mouth or his hands on that spot were just too, too much sometimes... "Damn, Choutarou, c'mon..."
No. No pressure. There was no friggin' way he was going to pressure Ootori into doing this. Shishido would have gritted his teeth if his mouth hadn't been so occupied on his roommate's throat--if so much of his mind hadn't been tied up in the way Ootori's hand slid, slow, those long violinist fingers tingling against his scalp, into his hair to hold him where he was. "Choutarou..." he gasped, and his fingers tightened with the effort of not sliding just a little higher on that linen-coated thigh... "Damn it, Choutarou, you've got to tell me to stop..."
He couldn't believe he was saying it. The day was hot and sticky, his Choutarou's thigh was under his fingers, all sleek muscle, and Shishido could taste sweat under his tongue--salt, and skin, and the way Ootori was shaking, just a little. Oh, man, he'd never seen anything so perfect, or tasted anything so good... and he couldn't believe he was saying it, couldn't believe he was asking his boyfriend to put the brakes on him, but he said it anyway.
Because oh, Hell, Ootori hadn't asked--not yet--and Shishido knew he did some pretty damned stupid things himself when he was horny... and trusting in Shishido's control, trusting that he would keep this to making out, by this point was a pretty damned stupid thing.
But Shishido knew his boyfriend--it was most definitely the kind of thing Ootori would do.
"S-stop? What? Now?" It wasn't a command. It was most definitely a question. And it was coming from a boy with his mouth half-open, and his tongue flicking out to dampen dry lips in a slow little round that ended with Ootori's bottom lip tucked between his teeth gently as he closed his eyes. "Wow... you're... you're so good at that, Shishido-san..."
Oh-shit-c'mon-Choutarou-I-need-you-to-fo
Shishido slid his lips down the strong line of the tendon he'd been nibbling on, lower, to the spot that he knew could make Ootori whimper, not just moan, when tongued just right--and bit down, hard enough to mark.
"Ah!" Ootori's eyes flew open, the hand that had been holding him where he was pushing him away for a moment, and Shishido, half-dazed with relief thankthegods that he'd actually managed to stop, actually managed to get his mouth off that tempting throat, felt the ripple under him of Ootori changing position--but couldn't get his mental feet under him quickly enough to adjust before he slumped--well, practically fell--onto his partner's lap.
It could have been worse. Could have been a lot worse, really. Ootori had a comfortable lap--Shishido had taken naps with his head pillowed on it, more than once, and the sensation of Ootori playing with one strand or another of his hair was pretty sweet. And when he was on Ootori's lap, the chances were pretty damned high that Ootori was not going to be making those tempting little sounds as Shishido sucked his throat. And no, he was not-thinking-about-that-damn-it...
He was beginning to understand why Ootori never looked at people's crotches, either.
He groaned at the thought, squeezing his eyes closed, and flopped onto his back instead, his shoulders still splayed over Ootori's legs. They were both a lot safer if he only had to look at his roommate's face. "Damn it, Choutarou..." he groaned.
But he could hear the smile in Ootori's voice--cheerful enough that he dared to crack an eye open, and was absurdly relieved to catch a grin flirting its way onto his roommate's face. "Shishido-san, you bit me again."
O-kay. Shishido closed his eyes again. Maybe looking at his Choutarou's face wasn't a way out. Ootori looked way too pleased. "If you say it like that, you're gonna make me think you liked it," he accused, mildly. He didn't even need to use his eyes to see Ootori opening his mouth to reply. "And if you liked it, Choutarou, you're a damned sight safer not telling me."
He didn't need his eyes to see Ootori blinking at him, either. "But you know I liked it, Shishido-san. Why would I tell you?"
Shishido sighed, and cracked his eyes open to peer at Ootori. Who was looking down at him, blushing, but obviously puzzled... nope, definitely not getting the point. This was becoming kind of a disturbing trend. "Never mind." He shook his head, and felt a wry smile beginning to turn his lips despite himself. Ootori was just never going to change--and was probably never going to lose that sweetness. Thank the gods. "I get the bathroom first, okay? I need a shower, or something," he pushed off, gently, from Ootori's knees, running a hand through his sweat-sticky hair as he sat up.
Sometimes he wondered if he should have felt weird about the fact that, well, Ootori knew--he had to know, right? On the one hand, this was Ootori, who was so innocent sometimes, but on the other hand, this was Ootori, who was so damned knowing at all the very worst times--what Shishido was doing when he needed a long, long shower after they'd been making out, sometimes.
Still, though, what else was he supposed to do, right?
And it made for a nice little daydream or two--even though Shishido figured that he could have fantasies about his Choutarou joining him in the shower until he turned purple as a bruise, and it wasn't going to happen, not anytime soon. As long as his fantasies stayed in his head, damn it, they'd be okay.
Yeah. A shower would probably be good. He pushed off from the sofa with a huff--more glad than ever that Ootori didn't look people in the crotch, and that he hadn't worn boxers with a slit today, 'cause that would've just been weird--
And found Ootori holding his hand, those long fingers tucked into his. "Shishido-san?"
"Yeah?" he turned, a little alarmed by the note of... something, in his roommate's voice. Damn, he hadn't bitten him too hard, had he...? No, it wasn't like the time he'd left a hickey on him--the bite mark was already gone, just a little wet patch, almost shiny on that tanned skin. Very lickable.
Ah, Hell, he needed to get his mind scrubbed.
Ootori cocked his head, and... smiled, just a little. "Thank you."
"Eh?" Shishido blinked down at him. It really was kind of weird, looking down at Ootori--the kid really was too tall. Or maybe Shishido had just gotten used to him being so tall, or something. "What'd I do?"
Ootori's hand squeezed in his, and there went the blush again, but--this time, he didn't look away from Shishido's eyes. Not even for an instant. "For a moment... um, I didn't want you to stop, Shishido-san."
Well, there were the most dangerous words Shishido had ever heard. He managed to summon up a weak chuckle, because the urge to growl and fasten himself to that neck again hadn't gone anywhere, but at least he wasn't sharing body heat with his roommate anymore. It helped. A little. Whew, the room was friggin' hot. "Yeah, well..." he chuckled, a little, low in his throat. "You think you're ready?"
It was funny, kind of, how Ootori's blush could flare like that. "I... I don't know. I'm... It's sort of... I know you want it, and sometimes I think I want it, too, but then..." his Choutarou looked so helpless--and, Hell, so confused. Shishido had known, pretty much, what the answer would be when he asked the question, and maybe he was just a little disappointed--but, well, only a little.
Shishido squeezed the hand tucked in his, and it was funny how his voice sounded--so damned gentle, and he hated sounding like that, but it was Ootori, so maybe it was okay--when he shook his head, and murmured, "Hey. S'okay, Choutarou. Take your time." He always said it--and it always surprised him, a little, that he meant it.
"But you..." Ootori looked, well, guilty. "Isn't it, well, difficult..? I mean... I don't mean to tease you, like that--well, not all the time, anyway--but..."
He chuckled, and waved off the guilt with a shake of his head. "Aw, whatever. Truth is, I like it when you tease me. An' when you're ready--and only then, okay?--then I'll be here."
And... to his own surprise, he meant that, too. He really, really meant that.
Ootori looked up at him--silent, for a long second, and Shishido wondered if maybe he'd said too much, or something... but then Ootori's eyes were in his, warm and soft and darkly sweet like melted chocolate, and he murmured, with a squeeze of his hand... "That's why I said 'thank you.' I think... I think I'm yours, Shishido-san. And... and if you want me..."
Aw, damn.
It was one thing to, well, think it.
It was so different to hear his Choutarou say it, and it was hard to breathe for a second.
Ootori really could just melt him into a puddle of goop sometimes.
"Hey." Shishido had never said it before. He hadn't had any plans of telling him, frankly, because... it was kind of too private, right? But it had been impulse that had led him to kissing Ootori in the first place, and he'd never regretted that either. There wasn't a lot--there wasn't anything--about being around his sweetheart that he regretted--not even the ache that still throbbed low in his belly. "Choutarou. It doesn't work like that." He squeezed the hand in his, gently. "Hey. You're worth the wait." Even if we never go anywhere with it. Even if you're never ready. I'll still be here. "I'm yours, too, y'know. Isn't that the way it works?"
Okay. That had just been too smushy for words--but the way Ootori's face was turned up to his, shining and bright as a new-minted coin even with his hair tangled and almost gray with the heat, made him wonder, if maybe it wasn't okay to be just a little smush sometimes... well, if it made his Choutarou look at him like that.
Like he was, maybe, the kind of person who Shishido thought deserved to be kissing Ootori Choutarou--not rough-mouthed, rude, selfish Shishido Ryou.
Except he was rough-mouthed, rude, selfish Shishido Ryou--and it was the miracle of his life that Ootori always kissed him back.
Speaking of which...
"Hey," he tugged his hand out of Ootori's, and chuckled, a little gruffly. Change of topic. Yeah, a change of topic was good. Before Ootori managed to say something that just made him into a puddle. "You've still got a little syrup on your lips."
Ootori smiled up at him--maybe just a little shyly--as he ran his tongue over his lips, once--just quickly--looking a little startled when he found the patch of red. "Oh--it's sticky. You've got some, too, Shishido-san. Um, right there, on the corner..."
Huh. There went the red on his cheeks again, and he hunched his shoulders a little, even as Shishido watched. Hm. Ootori must have been remembering what had gotten the syrup there--it must have been when he'd licked his fingers, because Shishido normally crunched on his popsicles, and that normally didn't leave anything on his lips--because Shishido was pretty sure he hadn't actually done anything in the last couple of seconds to make him blush like that...
Slowly, Shishido smiled again. So it turned Ootori on to see him lick his fingers, huh...? "Oh, yeah?"
Carefully, he ran one finger over the corner of his mouth--just a little too far from his lips to actually catch anything--before popping his fingertip in his mouth with a little "Hm" as he half-closed his eyes.
He kept them just open enough to see Ootori's breath hitch again, just a little, those warm mahogany eyes widening as his finger slid further into his mouth and he pursed his lips around it--before pulling it out with a tiny little 'pop.' "Huh. Nothing there. Guess I missed it."
"Um... no, Shishido-san, the other side..." Ootori's eyes were hot and bright and almost confused, except they weren't, not quite--and damned... for all the waiting was probably going to kill Shishido one of these days, it was so damned gratifying to know that he could do that to his Choutarou... so good to know that, well, maybe he wasn't the only one in this relationship they had going that knew what it was like to, well, want like this. And then Ootori pursed his lips a little, and looked oh-so-damned-cutely puzzled, his brows coming together. "Are you teasing me, Shishido-san...?"
"Me? Tease? Why would I do something like that?" Shishido grinned shamelessly, and tilted his head down to his partner's, reaching for those delicious cherry-stained lips as he slid his fingers into those soft, wavy curls of damp silver. Hey, maybe popsicles had been a good idea, after all. "Well, I can't figure out where it is. I guess you're just going to have to get the stuff off for me, then, huh...?"
Ootori blinked at him, still puzzled, for just a second--"But it's right there..." and then realisation blinked over his face with the speed of his smile--and his enthusiastic "Oh! Hai! Leave it to me, Shishido-san!"
The shower could wait for just a second, anyway.
*_*_*_*
Dinner had been pretty good, if he could say so himself--the somen had been just what he'd needed, and he hadn't overcooked the noodles, either--but...
"Damn it, it's still hot," he growled, combing his fingers impatiently through his wet, growing hair to get it behind his ears. Damn, it felt good when Ootori ran his fingers through it, just before they were about to go to bed... but right now, it wasn't long enough to tie away from his face, and it just kind of got in the way, instead. And stuck to his face when he sweated.
And there was no way either of them were going to be doing the dishes tonight--it was Ootori's turn, but there wasn't any chance Shishido was going to let him use hot water to get the pasta residue off the metal pot he'd used to cook the somen. The pans could just damned well sit in the sink until tomorrow morning, when it was cooler.
"It is," Ootori agreed, solicitously. He really didn't seem to be feeling the heat as much as Shishido--well, at least it didn't seem like he did, because he was wearing a shirt over a pair of boxers... but then again, maybe that was because his Choutarou was definitely learning. "Maybe... Would you like another popsicle, Shishido-san?"
"Uh... no thanks, that's okay," he answered, hastily. It really just wasn't fair how no matter what he did--whether it was having Ootori sucking his fingers or watching the look in Ootori's eyes as Shishido sucked his own--there was just no getting away from how hot he found his boyfriend. He probably wasn't going to be able to eat one of the ice candies for awhile, or at least not when it was only the two of them in the apartment and they were both in their boxers. Control was one thing, sure, but he was starting to learn that all his good intentions hit the 'self-shred' button pretty quickly when it was hot, sticky, and he had the sweetest, most innocent boyfriend in the world giving a popsicle a blowjob in front of him.
Ootori blinked at him across the wooden expanse, all concern, his wide eyes intensely earnest as he folded his hands on the table. "Well, then..." he seemed to be thinking, for a moment, before he perked up, eyes bright. "Would you like me to have one, then...?"
Shishido blinked, and waited for his boyfriend to qualify that. With something. There had to be something that Ootori had meant to say that went with that question.
When his partner didn't say anything else--just cocked his head, as if waiting for a response, Shishido felt his mouth drop open into the silence.
Ootori's lips twitched, just a little, into a smile--and something like a giggle fell from his lips before he covered his mouth, his eyes still shining mahogany, arched with amusement. "I'm so sorry... well, you said you like it when I tease you..."
Shishido couldn't help it--the instant after his eyes practically bugged out of his head, he started laughing.
Oh, man. Ootori really was the best thing that had ever happened to him... and he was learning entirely too many bad habits from one Shishido Ryou.
"Choutarou! You're not helping..."
One of the best meals I think I've ever had was on a swelteringly hot day in Kyoto. (I mean, I'm used to Philippine summers. Swelteringly hot for me is seriously, seriously hot.) Two friends and I walked into a tiny little café just down the street from Kiyomizu-doori, where the proprietor was giving us really dirty looks (evidently had had bad experiences with rude tourists coming down from the temple, or so she explained later) which softened the moment she realised we spoke Japanese. All three of us ordered somen, which came with shrimp, squid, shiitake, veggies... and between the three of us practically moaning with pleasure as we sucked up the cold noodles, we made some of the most appreciative slurping sounds that I think she'd ever heard. ^_^ In fact, she looked around the shop, and then brought us seconds. So I have good memories of somen. ^_^
Quite a good bit of this was written past the point when I turn into a pumpkin. Be warned. ^_^
The End
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