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kinkfestTitle: at last laid bare
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nekokoban
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: i-is this furry when one of the characters has a wolf head?
Word count: 1050
Summary: Heat Guy J, Boma/Daisuke: neck-nape licking, claiming - "I hung the stars and I hold your heart, so don't ever be afraid"
+++++
"Hey, Boma," says Daisuke.
He turns his face so that his cheek is pressed against the wall instead of his nose. He can vaguely see the reflection of them in the metal: Boma's dark head bent so close to his own. Just a few short steps away, the rest of Kabuki Road is abuzz with life, and the noise itself is like a cocoon, an extra layer of insulation between them and someone else. Boma's timing has never been the best -- he picks and chooses when to approach Daisuke without any sort of discernible pattern, sulking deliberately in the shadows until he's noticed and called out.
("As long as you live, I'll live.")
"I want to see your real face."
("To protect you.")
Boma hesitates. The hand on Daisuke's hip flexes nervously, the fingers digging in; the other, spread on Daisuke's stomach, is completely still. His breath is hot against Daisuke's neck, and when Daisuke leans back, there's the silky brush of fur along his skin. If he opens his eyes to look, Boma's face will only appear to be pressed against the back of his head, but there's a cold wet nose pressed under his jaw, and he breathes in the dry musky scent of animal fur. Daisuke lifts a hand and places it on what looks like empty air and feels like short warm fur under his palm.
"It's not that bad, is it?" he asks. He slides his hand back along the length of Boma's muzzle, down to where the fur lengthened and grew thick, then curves his arm so he can bury his fingers in it. "I haven't seen your real face in weeks. I already know what you look like, you don't have to keep it a secret."
A low noise rises up from within Boma's chest; Daisuke feels it vibrate along his back. "It's not ... necessary," he says at last, his voice stilted and rough as though from disuse. Despite his words, though, his tongue snakes out and paints a wet swath along the side of Daisuke's neck. "You already know--"
"Sure," says Daisuke. He lets his head drop forward again as he pushes back with his hips. It's an easy, careless motion that makes Boma growl again, the fingers on his hip tightening to bruising pressure. He almost laughs at that, but channels the breath into more words. "I still want to see your face. Or at least--" and he curls his fingers and tugs at Boma's fur, his fingers sinking until they touch skin, "--I don't want the illusion when there's something real going on."
Against his belly, Boma's hand twitches. Daisuke sucks in a breath and holds it until rough warm fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing to just this side of painful. Boma's breath is low rough panting in Daisuke's ear, but the reflection in the dull metal is still human, the expression scarcely changing even when his hand begins to move. Daisuke's one hand, pressed to the wall for balance, curls into a fist; the other twists hard in Boma's fur. His hips move in rough jerks and starts. Boma's breath is hot and damp against the back of his neck.
"Boma," he manages. His voice breaks on a low note. He closes his eyes and tugs with the hand in Boma's fur. "Boma ..."
Fur slides against his cheek. When he cracks one eye open, though, he still only sees Boma's human expression. It looks almost troubled, which is testament to the mask-maker's skill. His muzzle presses along Daisuke's jaw and stops; his voice is rough and almost hesitant.
"Daisuke," he says. On Daisuke's hip, his fingers flex again. "You don't ... this face is--"
"Not," Daisuke interrupts, and turns his head till his lips are pressed against musky-smelling fur, "... not the one I want to see." He slides his fingers through heavy fur again, and in the dim reflection it looks like he's clutching at Boma's human hair instead. He lets his head fall foward and smiles, rolling his hips forward again -- Boma's fingers have not loosened despite his hesitation. "It's all right. It's all right. I've already seen."
The low noise that catches in Boma's chest and bubbles up, harsh and gutteral. Daisuke sees him close his eyes and lean forward as his reflection ripples and changes, the holographic human skin sloughing off easily as thought. He keeps his eyes open and his head up as Boma's ears perk up and forward; he watches as Boma hauls him back in closer, the hand on his cock moving hard and fast enough to nearly be painful. He chokes on a breath and moves helplessly, hips jerking to Boma's erratic rhythm.
It doesn't come as a surprise when he feels teeth against the back of his neck -- they close with surprising delicacy (there are rumors that Boma the Werewolf has used his fangs to rip out a man's throat, though Daisuke himself has never seen proof of this) and they hold, so that Daisuke can't lift or lower his head, so that he can see the blurred warped reflection of them both in the dull metal, so that he's trapped as Boma ruts against him. Boma pants against his neck through those sharp teeth, ruffling hot and damp through Daisuke's hair.
Daisuke licks his lips. He keeps his hand tangled deeply in Boma's fur and breathes through his own open mouth; he gasps and pants and once or twice says Boma's name, which makes Boma move harder against him. He keeps his eyes open to watch until he comes, and there is a smile on his face he doesn't bother to hide at the sight of Boma's dark wolf-head bent close to his.
Later it will be Monica -- of all people -- who will give him a sideways look and point out the bitemarks on his neck. She'll make a rather scathing comment about her virgin eyes, to which he'll shrug and nudge her with his knee before turning the collar of his coat up for the rest of the day.
For now, though, he leans with his cheek against the skin-warmed metal wall and pants to catch his breath, and feels the still-immediate sting of Boma's teeth in his neck, and he continues to smile.
Author/Artist:
nekokobanRating: Hard R
Warnings: i-is this furry when one of the characters has a wolf head?
Word count: 1050
Summary: Heat Guy J, Boma/Daisuke: neck-nape licking, claiming - "I hung the stars and I hold your heart, so don't ever be afraid"
+++++
"Hey, Boma," says Daisuke.
He turns his face so that his cheek is pressed against the wall instead of his nose. He can vaguely see the reflection of them in the metal: Boma's dark head bent so close to his own. Just a few short steps away, the rest of Kabuki Road is abuzz with life, and the noise itself is like a cocoon, an extra layer of insulation between them and someone else. Boma's timing has never been the best -- he picks and chooses when to approach Daisuke without any sort of discernible pattern, sulking deliberately in the shadows until he's noticed and called out.
("As long as you live, I'll live.")
"I want to see your real face."
("To protect you.")
Boma hesitates. The hand on Daisuke's hip flexes nervously, the fingers digging in; the other, spread on Daisuke's stomach, is completely still. His breath is hot against Daisuke's neck, and when Daisuke leans back, there's the silky brush of fur along his skin. If he opens his eyes to look, Boma's face will only appear to be pressed against the back of his head, but there's a cold wet nose pressed under his jaw, and he breathes in the dry musky scent of animal fur. Daisuke lifts a hand and places it on what looks like empty air and feels like short warm fur under his palm.
"It's not that bad, is it?" he asks. He slides his hand back along the length of Boma's muzzle, down to where the fur lengthened and grew thick, then curves his arm so he can bury his fingers in it. "I haven't seen your real face in weeks. I already know what you look like, you don't have to keep it a secret."
A low noise rises up from within Boma's chest; Daisuke feels it vibrate along his back. "It's not ... necessary," he says at last, his voice stilted and rough as though from disuse. Despite his words, though, his tongue snakes out and paints a wet swath along the side of Daisuke's neck. "You already know--"
"Sure," says Daisuke. He lets his head drop forward again as he pushes back with his hips. It's an easy, careless motion that makes Boma growl again, the fingers on his hip tightening to bruising pressure. He almost laughs at that, but channels the breath into more words. "I still want to see your face. Or at least--" and he curls his fingers and tugs at Boma's fur, his fingers sinking until they touch skin, "--I don't want the illusion when there's something real going on."
Against his belly, Boma's hand twitches. Daisuke sucks in a breath and holds it until rough warm fingers wrap around his cock, squeezing to just this side of painful. Boma's breath is low rough panting in Daisuke's ear, but the reflection in the dull metal is still human, the expression scarcely changing even when his hand begins to move. Daisuke's one hand, pressed to the wall for balance, curls into a fist; the other twists hard in Boma's fur. His hips move in rough jerks and starts. Boma's breath is hot and damp against the back of his neck.
"Boma," he manages. His voice breaks on a low note. He closes his eyes and tugs with the hand in Boma's fur. "Boma ..."
Fur slides against his cheek. When he cracks one eye open, though, he still only sees Boma's human expression. It looks almost troubled, which is testament to the mask-maker's skill. His muzzle presses along Daisuke's jaw and stops; his voice is rough and almost hesitant.
"Daisuke," he says. On Daisuke's hip, his fingers flex again. "You don't ... this face is--"
"Not," Daisuke interrupts, and turns his head till his lips are pressed against musky-smelling fur, "... not the one I want to see." He slides his fingers through heavy fur again, and in the dim reflection it looks like he's clutching at Boma's human hair instead. He lets his head fall foward and smiles, rolling his hips forward again -- Boma's fingers have not loosened despite his hesitation. "It's all right. It's all right. I've already seen."
The low noise that catches in Boma's chest and bubbles up, harsh and gutteral. Daisuke sees him close his eyes and lean forward as his reflection ripples and changes, the holographic human skin sloughing off easily as thought. He keeps his eyes open and his head up as Boma's ears perk up and forward; he watches as Boma hauls him back in closer, the hand on his cock moving hard and fast enough to nearly be painful. He chokes on a breath and moves helplessly, hips jerking to Boma's erratic rhythm.
It doesn't come as a surprise when he feels teeth against the back of his neck -- they close with surprising delicacy (there are rumors that Boma the Werewolf has used his fangs to rip out a man's throat, though Daisuke himself has never seen proof of this) and they hold, so that Daisuke can't lift or lower his head, so that he can see the blurred warped reflection of them both in the dull metal, so that he's trapped as Boma ruts against him. Boma pants against his neck through those sharp teeth, ruffling hot and damp through Daisuke's hair.
Daisuke licks his lips. He keeps his hand tangled deeply in Boma's fur and breathes through his own open mouth; he gasps and pants and once or twice says Boma's name, which makes Boma move harder against him. He keeps his eyes open to watch until he comes, and there is a smile on his face he doesn't bother to hide at the sight of Boma's dark wolf-head bent close to his.
Later it will be Monica -- of all people -- who will give him a sideways look and point out the bitemarks on his neck. She'll make a rather scathing comment about her virgin eyes, to which he'll shrug and nudge her with his knee before turning the collar of his coat up for the rest of the day.
For now, though, he leans with his cheek against the skin-warmed metal wall and pants to catch his breath, and feels the still-immediate sting of Boma's teeth in his neck, and he continues to smile.
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 02:11 am (UTC)I dunno, maybe it's just me, but there's just something about the word 'muzzle' that trips my trigger. *blushes*
And this next sentence? Pure gold. Lined in platinum.
She'll make a rather scathing comment about her virgin eyes, to which he'll shrug and nudge her with his knee before turning the collar of his coat up for the rest of the day.
Oh! And... skin-warmed metal wall *sighs and purrs loudly*
I don't go ape-shit bonkers vocal over a lot of stuff, but damn...this is really, really good.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 01:38 am (UTC)I'm really glad you liked this -- thanks for letting me know! The flailing is really awesome♥♥
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 03:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 01:46 am (UTC)Thank you for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed this♥♥
no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 03:54 pm (UTC)Well done! Thank you so much for writing and sharing this.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-03 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-04 02:00 am (UTC)♥♥♥ I'm glad you liked this, hon. :D