In Over Your Head

IN OVER YOUR HEAD


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In Over Your Head

The analogy is to an unskilled swimmer who has fallen into water that is too deep. You are in over your head when you face a challenge you are not able to meet. \"Over one\'s head\" refers to the depth of the situation one is in. The situation has become more serious (severe) than the person is prepared for.

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Chapter 2


Down Under


His desired prey is within reach. The beautiful gazelle stands there, completely oblivious to the presence of the circling leopard. He surveys the terrain and analyzes his options thoroughly. He dives in for the kill, throwing caution into the wind. His lips brush Shuichi’s tenderly at first, they are very soft and sweet, all of him is. So tasty, I lick my own lips and bite on my lower one.


His blood thins and it pulsates violently against his temple. I can see the thick vein, it looks like it’s about to pop. I can hear his accelerated heartbeat, beating incessantly against his chest. Is that even possible? Maybe I do have an overactive imagination. But the ragged breathing through his nose, Shuichi’s moan into the kiss, Hiro’s hands upon Shuichi’s shoulders squeezing him tight. That’s not my imagination.


I’m sure Shuichi knows who he’s kissing by now, and he opens his mouth and offers himself up to him. Oh yes, Hiro is getting a piece of heaven, I can almost feel it, too. But the indulgence is very short-lived. As quickly as it started, Hiro is pushed away gently by Shuichi. Hiro is bent over him, his mouth hangs open and his eyes close, he stops breathing. He looks like an idiot. I can’t help but let out a quiet, raucous laughter. Shuichi’s eyes open wide and he looks at me quizzically. I smile at him warmly. His eyes widen further. That Hiro would want to do this, he has always known, despite of what lies he decides to tell himself. But that I would offer him willingly, I think he never imagined. He looks confused, he looks hurt. I keep smiling.

Hiro’s eyes finally open and he looks down, his cheeks are flushed, big red blotches are scattered on his face, matching his hair. He doesn’t regret it, at least not yet. Shuichi’s divine taste lingers in his mouth and he brings his two fingers up to his moist lips and shudders. He’s the dazed one now, he has dreamed about this for so long; not the chaste, friendly-masked kisses they used to give each other in the past, but a hot, lewd tongue dance with all its torrid allusions.

I nod slightly. Things move so slowly. Everything is so “floaty”. I feel as though we may start hovering above the furniture any moment now. All reception nerves are numbed. I’m so light-headed. I’m starting to feel the effects of alcohol, too. Nothing matters anymore, except for these dark wishes. Curiosity is killing me. The physical contact is so delightfully warm. I lean in for another wonderful kiss and I graze my tongue over Shuichi’s lips, like a kitty lapping at warm milk and I’m also marking my territory before giving it up. His breath is a mixture of whiskey and strawberry pocky, laced with his own distinctive smell, and something else; that must be Hiro. I pull away and reach behind their heads with my hands and I grab each by the neck and crush the two friends together. Will they do it?

They stare at each other in the eye as their heads draw closer together; they look almost... expectant. They don’t resist me. Their heads tilt and their mouths join. It starts off hesitantly but it soon builds up into passionate and fast paced kissing. I can see their tongues intertwining and their lips opening and closing over each other’s. Hiro has grabbed Shuichi’s face with his two hands and he’s giving him the tongue fuck of a lifetime, it looks like he’s going to eat him alive. My baka holds onto his wrists, but he doesn’t push him away; he kisses him back fiercely, frantically. I don’t think he’s ever kissed me like that. I feel stupid for not admitting it before; they have longed for this. My eyes narrow into slits and a knot tightens in my stomach.


In his haste, Hiro falls forward dragging Shuichi down with him, and I have to shift back so that they don’t fall on top of me, the spot on the couch behind me feels cold on my ass. The cold and crisp leather squeaks under their weight. There’s barely any space for them to maneuver and they look odd as they try not to fall off and their limbs entantogetogether. I settle down to watch. Damn! I knew I was right, and I hate the fact that I was. I can only hope it’s over soon. The room is showered by moving lights from the outside world that sieve through the blinds. But we are set apart from the rest of the mortal reign now. All that can be heard is the sound of frenzied tongues, the fabric of two clothed bodies grinding together in rhythm to three beating hearts, hitched, desperate breaths and the squeaking of the sofa. If you could hear inside me, you’d hear something crack, and yet I feel my own arousal being awoken, for some reason they are turning me on. I hate this wretched, vile body of mine.


Hiro’s hands roam all over Shuichi’s lithe, little frame; this leopard is starved and he devours his prey greedily, not holding back his craving. He’s clumsy, however, and his touches are awkward and exploring. Hiro is a virgin and very sexually inexperienced; his short relationship with Ayaka didn’t get him very far and he’s never been with a man either. Being with another man is very different from being with a woman. I still recall my first time, or my first willing time I should say. I know Hiro is experiencing the same sensations right now. Additionally, I know how Shuichi feels when he’s pinned below me. He’s petite and pliable and so very soft. He’s thin and you can feel his little bones under the taut layer of skin and muscle. You feel like you could crush him so easily, but str stronger than he looks, so strong.


Shuichi holds onto Hiro’s sleeves as if his life depends on it while Hiro nips and sucks on his neck and clavicles. I know how good the supple skin feels between your teeth and how badly you want to sink them into his flesh and ravish it thoroughly. And so he does. Shuichi likes it, I’m sure he’ll bruise, but they can’t control themselves. They pant heavily and it’s almost entrancing. I can feel their heat as it grows and rises off their bodies, invisible but almost palpable, enveloping us three in a cloud of pheromones. Hiro pulls his white shirt off over his head and throws it away; he’s had enough of the obstructing fabric. His body aches for skin upon skin contact, for closer proximity. He removes Shuichi’s shirt between frantic mouth locks and then his hands rove over the pale skin of Shuichi’s chest. But it’s not on his hands or callous fingertips where he wants to feel it most, so he closes the distance between their upper bodies and rubs them together. His fingers move to caress the sides of Shuichi’s bare torso, squeezing his pliant waist and protuberant pelvis and dipping his thumb into Shuichi’s navel, making his legs skid on the sofa.


The chest pressed against you is flat and you can feel rounded ribs and a planar sternum on your own, it’s a very strange feeling. There are no soft breasts in the way and it feels awkward for the other body to be so similar to your own; hard and rigid. Once you get used to it, however, the feeling of the other’s flat chest is sensational, your bodies are closer and touch more skin than if you were with a woman. The hot touch is velvety and it sends your mind reeling into pleasure override. A man’s nipple can also be very sensitive, just as much as a woman’s or even more so. They are small and nubby and when they brush against your own hard ones, a sharp jolt of pleasure travels up your vertebrae, sending shocks along the way. They finally hit your cortex with the strength of a ray of lightning. Your limbic system goes crazy and you lose touch with reality, you are certain that your hypothalamus is going to explode. He can’t get enough of it and he grabs Shuichi by the shoulders and bucks his hips non-stop, rubbing his hard erection on Shuichi. If he keeps it up he’s going to fuck him clothed, the dolt. This movement inches them closer to me and so I shift further aback, I don’t want to touch them. Hiro’s eyes are shut tight and his long, red hair pools all over Shu’s face, hiding it from me, but I can see Shuichi’s hands as they caress and scratch Hiro’s bare back, up and down, up and down, leaving red trails with his fingernails. He hooks his arms around Hiro’s, gripping his shoulders with his cute, little fingers, pushing Hiro harder onto himself; he’s also writhing and hissing beneath him, the little bastard. I should have known better.

Hiro moves down from Shuichi’s throat to ravage his pink nipples. I can tell he has quickly acquired a taste for them, he loves them, and he bites them and sucks on them as if trying to milk him, while he holds onto the hem of Shuichi’s trousers. But he doesn’t linger on them for too long. His head travels south, across Shuichi’s stomach, dragging the inside of his upper lip over it, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. He stops briefly on Shuichi’s navel as he starts undoing Shu’s zipper. He is not going to bother much with foreplay, he’s too naïve and too desperate. What if Shuichi were to change his mind? What if I were to change my mind? Worse still, what if this were all a figment of his imagination? He must assert the overpowering feeling of reality, he must have him, and he must do it right away lest he wake up, panting, cold and alone with a massive hard on. I’m sure he’s done it countless times in the past.


Shuichi buckles against him, hitting Hiro’s neck with his rock hard erection and buries his hands in his mahogany strands of hair. Alas, here comes the other really weird bit: another man’s cock. You have played with your own plenty of times, but society tells you that when it comes to having sex, your partner must be of the opposite sex, and you find yourself with someone else’s cock in your hands for the first time, in real life. This is a very weird thing for a man, at least the first few times it is. You can’t help but think that it is wrong. It’s been hammered into your brain. And the fact that you like it, that you are fucking aroused by it, that you want to play with it and have it inside you, in your mouth, deep in your throat and buried in your ass, even caressing your face, touching your hard nipples or against your stomach, digging into your belly button, rubbing against your own stiff erection, everywhere and all over you; oh it makes you feel so disgusting, it exposes your vileness. Society be damned! Thank god for alcohol.

I can sense these apprehensions welling up inside Hiro, but he finishes taking Shuichi’s trousers off and then he just stares at the erect member and back at Shuichi’s face. He’s having doubts; he wants reassurance from Shuichi, but it’s too late to back off now. Shuichi looks at me, he too, is unsure. They look at me for guidance, for approval; eyes glazed with lust. Fucking bastards. It hurts. But it must be done. I must let them, if I am to achieve my goal. I hand them some lube from the table draw and I smile at them. Shuichi looks hurt; he must be feeling guilty for wanting this. A little voice inside my head tells me that that’s not the reason he’s hurt. It explains that he’s hurt because I’m letting him do it; furthermore, I’m encouraging him to do it, but I ignore it. This is what he gets for trying to play adult games, for being so vile. It was inevitable. He shouldn’t have played with our feelings like that. I shall get my way.

When I look back down I see Hiro nuzzling Shuichi’s cock with his nose and cheek, and I’m shocked to say the least; I wouldn’t have dared to do that my first time. Is he doing it out of love? Because he loves his friend and so it doesn’t disgust him? I didn’t love my first partner. I haven’t loved any of my partners; I just grew accustomed to their bodies over time. The man that I did love betrayed me, he sold me, but he didn’t fuck me. Still, a man’s cock has got to be the softest piece of flesh known to man; softer than the fullest of lips or the finest of silks, much better than gossamer, impossibly soft and tender, yet so hard underneath, like a cushioned rod, and so incredibly hot. Yes, you want to play with it; it feels unlike your own, it’s much better, so much better. I swallow hard. I’m shaking. I’m so jealous right now. I want to push Hiro away. I want Shuichi for myself. I want to be the one to play with him all night long, to make him scream, to make him lose himself and reach ecstasy. But I can’t. I’m sacrificing myself for a better cause. If only it weren’t so hard though, if only it didn’t hurt like it does. My insides are churning. I reach out and drink some more whiskey. Fuck.


Hiro’s lips brush against the taut head and I see Shuichi’s length twitch under this caress, he’s leaking with pre cum. Hiro licks his lips, tasting a bit of it. I wonder if he likes it. I know I do; so sweet. He grazes his parted mouth over Shuichi’s member, feeling its sleekness and taking in every detail of his length’s relief, all the subtle folds and ridges, basking in its tenderness, it’s so soft against your dry lips. Trust me; he doesn’t want to stop. He flicks his tongue over the head and then licks once, from the base to the head, causing Shuichi to let out a surprised yelp. Hiro is encouraged by the sound and he licks him again, coyly. The first time is always so odd. He must be feeling liberated by the second. He’s going wild now, his body betrays him and he takes Shuichi in his mouth, curiosity finally winning over squeamishness. He takes as much as he can in and I hear him gag. What an idiot. He must be very desperate to please, to live up to expectations. Perhaps he’s more comfortable than I was at first. Or maybe he just wants to consume Shuichi, to meld with him in every way imaginable; body, mind and soul. How very trite.


The way it fits inside your mouth, it’s almost too much. How it slides in and out of it so easily, brushing your teeth and hitting your throat, filling you. And you wrap your tongue around it, and swirl it, and suck, and dive down and then up again, tightening your lips as you do so. It’s just bloody delicious, so addictive; you want to shove it further in, all the way to your insides. It only takes a few of these magical pulls and Shuichi is a goddamn mess. Hiro swallows all of it earnestly. Well, well, I’ll be fucking damned; I think he actually likes it! The little pervert loves it in fact. I don’t blame him. I can’t. He’s licking him clean and Shuichi is trying to make him stop, his skin is hypersensitive now and he’s convulsing, his head is tossed to the side, his nose is buried in the back rest of the sofa. His breathing leaves two circles of vapor on the leather, one from his nostrils and one from his mouth they fuse and make an amorphous pattern. He shakes and whimpers and tries to pull Hiro’s head away, but Hiro just keeps sucking him dry, he wants more. I never imagined. He continues to suck and Shuichi’s body now rests on his feet and head. I hear a bone clack, he needs to calm down or he’ll hurt his neck. What a pair of possessed id. Sh. Shuichi finally manages to push Hiro away effectively, they are both breathless. Hiro steals another kiss.

Shuichi is in the post climax state, and so he is a bit unfocused. I muster all the will power inside me and give Hiro the forgotten bottle of lube. I take Shuichi’s face in my hands and force him to look at Hiro as he coats himself, the fool hasn’t even fingered Shuichi; he’s totally clueless, but I shall not point this fact out. I can feel Shuichi struggling to move his head to look at me, but I keep him in place. Why would he want to look at me? I don’t want to look at him. I want him to look at Hiro and take perfect notice of what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with. His eyes try to look up and he can barely see me, his eyes are almost white. His face looks disturbing like that. Hiro lowers himself and places his arousal against Shuichi. Is that a flash of anger I see in Shuichi’s eyes? It throws me off balance for a second.


Disdainfully, he takes my hand away from his chin and looks back at Hiro, wrapping his arms around his best friend. He wraps his legs around him too, and arches off the couch, pulling Hiro inside him in one swift move. I wince and hear him gasp, his face twists in pain; that must have been rough. Hiro hisses and his head snaps up to face the ceiling, his mouth and eyes are open wide in surprise. A thin thread of saliva trails down the commissure of his lips. I know the feeling. Shuichi’s tunnel is extremely slippery and tight, it grips you like a vice and as you thrust, a million spasms go off inside you, tickling your guts and making them leap, you can see sparks behind your eyes as your overwhelmed neurons burst in your brain. Your balls tighten and beg you for instant release from their torture. The whole thing is just fucking mind-blowing. He bites Shuichi’s shoulder to suppress himself from screaming. He grips Shuichi tighter, his toes curl and his nails scratch the sofa. Now I know where the grey marks in the leather come from, I must do that, too. How interesting. Damn, I’m so fucking hard and I detest it, I’m nauseated from the intensity of it all.

They both sweat, their skins glow and radiate heat, and the damn sofa keeps squeaking; it’s really starting to get under my skin now. I’m sweating, too; we are all sweltering under their unbearable heat. My clothes are drenched and Hiro’s low moans send shivers down my wet spine. How I hate them right now. Hiro has buried his face in Shuichi’s neck, shutting me out from their love making. He wishes they were alone, and that Shuichi were truly his and his alone. The imagination aids him with this notion. One hand is on Shuichi’s face, he’s running his thumb along his jaw line; he alternates between this and caressing his cheek with the back of his fingers. The other hand hugs his friend tightly to him, skimming lightly over his arm and holding his hand. He whispers something in Shuichi’s ear and I can just about make out the words. I strain my ears to listen. He’s telling him how much he loves him, isn’t that lovely? It just melts my heart. Tear jerking, really. His voice is passion-ridden and heavily coated with sentimentality. How humans manage to be so vile and sentimental at the same time is always a source of wonder; they are so contradictory.

“I love you Shuichi, I always have and I always will,” he says. “Oh god, I love you so very much, so very much. You have no idea. I love you, I love you, I love you...” He doesn’t stop saying those three little words, over and over again; it’s like a goddamn scratched CD. And they keep fucking. Sorry, making love, as they would call it, I’m just a brute. Shuichi hugs him back; his legs are locked at his ankles over Hiro’s back. His cute pink socks are about to fall off and he keeps Hiro deep inside him with this position. This is the least he can do for him, Shuichi has been very bad. And they keep fucking.

“Oh god, Shu... Shu...” His voice cracks, I think he’s weeping. “I love you. I really do. Shu...” His body rakes with sobs and I want to punch the living daylights out of him. I wish he’d just get on with it and spare me the eternal love drama.

I’m so stupid, I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I really was hoping it didn’t come to this, for this fleeting moment of passion is going to cost us all dearly. Yes, that was always my intention and when it’s finally over, it shall destroy their friendship. It’s already begun. Everything is falling apart; the whole world is crumbling around them as they consume each other. The fire will burn out soon, but while it blazes and roars, it razes everything around it, utterly killing its surroundings. There is no escape from the imminent devastation. Nothing can go back to the way things were beforlowelowers won’t bloom over the wasteland that will be created in the aftermath. They have crossed the line between lovers and friends and they are in over their heads. And that’s exactly what I wanted.


The little voice comes back to haunt me. It’s telling me that Shuichi does love me and that I’m pathetic for doubting him and making him do this. Although I fail to see how this can possibly be my fault, and how I could have possibly forced him to do something he didn’t want to do. I didn’t point a gun at his head. But the voice is relentless. It tells me that he didn’t want to do this really, that, yet again, he’s doing it for me, because he thinks that I want it. I shut it away; I don’t want to hear it. Why would I want this? They are the ones that wanted it all along; I merely showed them the way. What they are doing is wrong, but they are rejoicing in their dirtiness, like filthy pigs wrestling in their own shit. It’s revolting. It’s deliciously perverted and so very vulgar. God you made them so vile!


Hiro moves terribly slowly, even in his high state of euphoria he tries to prolong this moment. Is love stronger than lust? Humans are such sentimental creatures, too. They are both unusually quiet. They are lost in the feelings and they whimper under hectic breaths, Hiro keeps uttering those three stupid words. They don’t mean anything to me, they make me cringe. But it’s as though saying them makes everything okay, like they are some kind of magic spell that will make Shuichi finally realize he’s been with the wrong person all along, that Hiro can bring him happiness, that he’s worthy of him because his love is so true and pure; because he loves him. Suddenly, his body tightens; I can see the chords of fibrous muscle in his back as they are stretched over the wide bones. He grunts deep in his throat; a guttural, mind-innerving sound. His knees are lodged in the couch; they must burn from the friction. Two dimples form in his buttocks as he buries himself one final time inside Shuichi and his whole body shakes, from head to toes, ripple after ripple, he’s orgasming. He whines, it sounds even stranger; he squeezes Shuichi tightly and then collapses atop him, utterly spent.


It’s over.


His body raises and falls rapidly with his chest. I can hear him kissing Shuichi, both his hands hold onto Shuichi’s head, their damp foreheads touch and they are catching their breath. He’s so emotional, but so inept. I don’t even think he made Shuichi come again, I doubt he realized he was meant to. He showers Shuichi with kisses, all over his face: his nose, his eyes, forehead, temples, cheeks, neck, chin and trembling lips; every inch of skin is covered by his mushy kisses. He looks at his best friend and object of adoration. I can finally see his face, too. There are dried streaks of tears in his cheeks. They just look at each other for what seems like hours. My hands are still sweaty and I’m holding my breath, I want to merge with the furniture, blend with the room and just observe their reactions.

After a few moments, reality hits Hiro with the force of an iron anvil and he comes to terms with what they’ve done, an expression of utter horror is etched on his face and it is soon mirrored in Shuichi’s facial features. He pulls out of Shuichi and sits up, bringing Shuichi’s thin frame with him, settling him against his chest, in between his stretched legs, he holds Shu clo closely to him. Out of the blue, they both break down in tears.

I win.

tbc