Princess Tutu (Fakir/Mytho)

[raisedbymoogles.livejournal.com]

Title: Heartless Hands
Author/Artist: raisedbymoogles
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sort-of-dubcon, sexual themes.
Word Count: 546
Summary: Sure, Mytho may have no heart, but that doesn't mean anything to his libido.
Prompt: Princess Tutu, Fakir/Mytho: Voyeurism - The two boys discover masturbation together.

Possibly a little late to the party from a progression-of-adolescence standpoint, Fakir was just discovering what happened when he stroked his balls when Mytho peeked in.

He didn't notice at first. Masturbation was a chore, but an absorptive one; and apparently stroking his balls had the effect of nearly making him come with every touch. He might have never noticed the heartless boy was there at all except for the creak in the door he hadn't gotten around to fixing - but he shot bolt upright, reflexes quick as a swordsman's, and confronted his charge with his cock still in his hand.

"I told you to go to bed," Fakir said, forcing sternness into his voice and rolling his eyes at himself even as the words left his mouth. Not that it mattered - Mytho responded to sternness, gentleness, abuse and kindness in the exact same way. "What are you doing here?"

Mytho sidled back from the door, his movements too awkward and uncertain to be a dancer's. As he stepped into the light from the hallway, Fakir saw the location of his other hand - hovering like a confused moth over his lower abdomen, fingers curling in the air. "Ah," Fakir sighed, and beckoned him closer with a flicker of guilt. It was easy to forget, doll-like as Mytho was, but just because he had no heart didn't mean he had no cock.

"Here," he murmured, pulling down the waistband of Mytho's pajama bottoms. "Like this." With some fumbling, he managed to curl Mytho's fingers around the shaft of his cock. "Now just stroke," he said, moving that pale, cool hand back and forth.

Something guttered to life in Mytho's eyes - some tiny understanding - but Fakir still had to guide his hand, slicking both their fingers with precome before Mytho would masturbate on his own. "Good," Fakir murmured, watching him. Mytho preferred a slower, harder stroke than Fakir did, it seemed - more stimulation to penetrate numb skin. "Good," he said again as Mytho's fingers found the head. "Just like that."

Mytho remained expressionless as he came, letting his seed spill to the floor. He pulled his pants back up slowly, as if contemplating, and Fakir was just about to steer him back to bed when the boy reached out lightning-quick and wrapped both hands around Fakir's still-exposed cock.

Fakir gasped, arms falling helplessly to his sides, as Mytho demonstrated what he'd learned. His strokes were rough, unskilled, catching on his skin with every motion. "Farther back," Fakir bit out, when he found his voice, and Mytho obediently palmed his cock and slipped his hand back until his fingers brushed Fakir's balls.

Fakir came violently, nearly falling back on the bed with the force of it; when he regained control of himself, Mytho was standing in the same spot, watching Fakir's come drip down his forearm. Gripped by a black shame that Mytho would never feel, Fakir grabbed a box of tissues from his nightstand and tossed it at the boy. "Clean yourself up. And go to bed."

The box caught in white hands with a soft thud. Pale lips quirked, and Mytho found his voice at last. "Good night, Fakir."

Fakir waited until Mytho was gone to flop back on the bed.

Comments

[girlchild.livejournal.com]

I like this a lot because your characterization is perfect: stilted, emotionless Mytho working with what little instinct he has, and stern but self-loathing Fakir. <3 You hit so many of my buttons with this piece! *favorites*

[raisedbymoogles.livejournal.com]

Whee! Thank you. Glad you weren't disturbed. ;)

[dogmatix-san.livejournal.com]

only half-familiar with this series, but definitely a good fic, liked it a lot. ^_^

[hiza-chan.livejournal.com]

Oh delicious.

Your characterization was beyond perfect.