Bubblegum

More or less an immaculate little bastard, Hiruma Youichi flicked a stray fluff from his shoulder as he waited for his long-time friend to finish his work for the day, a heavy briefcase beside him and a frown weighing on his delicate eyebrows. He popped what his calculations derived as the 378th bubble on his fourth piece of gum and turned his head to the right, immediately noticing the bandanna-toting teen as he exited the construction yard's main office.

Musashi had spent everyday that week working in the yard, building trusses for a new apartment complex that was being erected across town. His father praised him lightly when he went to visit the man in the hospital and his mother cheerfully brought him a drink and waited to wash his filthy clothes each evening, but it was Hiruma's approval that the kicker actually strove for.

The blond got up from his perch—the bench they shared during trips on the bus, which ran between Hiruma's home at the Airport Hilton and Takekura Construction yard-- and stepped into line with the larger man, grunting a reply when Musashi voiced his hello. The pair walked home in amicable silence, only speaking to each other once reaching the safety of Musashi's bedroom.

The kicker stripped in front of Hiruma; his tank top, comfortable work slacks and socks going first, then his underwear remaining for a moment, as Hiruma gave him a once-over.

The tan on the muscles of his arms stood out in direct contrast to the white of his chest and belly, where the sun never seemed to make its mark. The lines that stopped at each shoulder received long, drawn out scrutiny, as Hiruma lifted a finger to trace along them. Musashi followed the digit and leveled a blank stare at the blond, before stepping away from him and padding out into the hall.

He ducked into the bathroom just as his mother came upstairs with tea for the pair, smiling politely at Hiruma and setting the tray down on the dresser. The blond flopped his slim form down onto the bed and snatched a cup from it once she had left, inhaling the scented brew and sipping it carefully, listening with half an ear as his boyfriend washed in the next room.

The splashing of the water and the grunts of the shower surround caught Hiruma's attention the most and he closed his eyes as he held the tea, imagining Musashi naked in there; the water pouring down his heavily muscled body, dripping from his fingertips and the end of his cock, adding to the sweaty water that quickly sluiced its way down the drain.

The water turned off abruptly and Hiruma went back to the tea, sipping it and hissing as it burned his tongue, setting it beside him on a curled pile of blankets, the perfect perch for the high-lipped cup. His hands wandered to the case he had been carrying and he lifted it up onto his lap, flicking it open with his thumbs and fetching his laptop from within, the item humming with life before he had even finished propping it open.

The spreadsheets that defined his football knowledge and which held all of his most precious sports-based information came up immediately, beeping at him that a day had passed since he had updated them last, so he began to type information in while Musashi dried himself in the bathroom. The heavy footfalls of the over sized kicker echoed in the hall and he padded back inside naked, save for the towel tied around his waist. In his peripheral vision, Hiruma eyed the deep lines of the man's hips as they disappeared beneath the white cloth, smirking with the knowledge that they tasted as good as they looked.

“Took ya long enough,” he chided, chuckling under his breath as Musashi only shook his head. “Thought ya might've washed yourself down the drain.”

“I'm not as small as you are. My ass gets stuck in the drain each time that happens.”

They goofed amongst themselves constantly and one of the running jokes, was how slim Hiruma was. That he disappeared when he turned sideways. That he looked like a fairy in his little black tights. Musashi hardly brought up the second of the insults anymore, however, as he had found the view of Hiruma's ass and groin most enjoyable, when the blond wore the stealthy black outfit.

Musashi let the towel fall from his hip and he bent over slightly to scoop it back up with his foot, flicking it into his laundry pile and then joining Hiruma on the bed. Mindful of the man's nudity, Hiruma snatched up his teacup the moment his lover sat down; to both save his hide and the sheets from behind ruined. He sipped it again and placed it back on the dresser, scooping up Musashi's share and handing it over, dropping his eyes from the man's hand once he took the cup, to take in the lean muscles of the kicker's thighs and back.

He knew how lovely the thighs felt when pushing against him, and how the muscles in the other's back twitched and flexed when he was trying hard to please the smaller man. The thoughts alone caused Hiruma's breath to catch in his throat and he cleared it suddenly to gain his momentum back, returning to his typing, while still staring over the laptop's edge to keep an eye on the naked kicker.

“Gonna get dressed again? You'll catch a cold like that, fucking old man.”

“I was hoping to get into bed before I caught that cold, Hiruma,” Musashi countered, reaching his unoccupied hand out to slap the blond on the shin. “Mind getting off so I can get under the covers?”

Hiruma smirked and dug his hands into the blankets, his claw-like fingernails holding him in place quite well. “Yeah, I mind.”

The gruff teenager scowled and then got to his feet, plunking his tea down beside Hiruma's and then lifting the laptop out of the way, tossing it aside but not harming it, simply relocating it to the other side of the mattress. Hiruma only stared up at the taller male, his hands still and his face serene.

Musashi moved to kneel on the bed and parted Hiruma's thighs, giving himself room to move, as he took the blond by the waist and flipped him over onto his belly, managing to biff himself in the head with one of the quarterback's knees in the process, but still working to the outcome he had planned on. Hiruma struggled—weakly, but still gave up enough of a fight that Musashi had to growl a little—but made no headway, simply resigning himself to fist his hands in the pillows and let the older male do what he felt like.

The scruffy kicker slipped both hands into the waistband of Hiruma's school slacks and began to shimmy them down his skinny hips, bending forward to press a firm kiss to the top of each firm little mound as they peeked out from behind the dark material. The blond wriggled against the ticklishness of Musashi's facial hair but said little, obviously either enjoying the ministrations or too embarrassed to let the other know what they were doing to him.

The pants tugged from Hiruma's feet with a bit of a scuffle and Musashi tossed them over his shoulder, listening with a nearly satisfied smirk as they landed on top of his laundry pile. He knew they would get wet laying there, against his shower towel, and that would mean that Hiruma would have to stay the night until they dried, a tiny piece of his plan which worked every time.

The was no shame on Hiruma's face as he spared a look over his shoulder at the large kicker, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and Musashi returned his attention to the pale backside presented to him, both hands—warm and soft, from being in the shower and for being hardly used on the football field-- kneading Hiruma's buttocks, squeezing and pinching the white flesh until it coloured lightly; a healthy shade of pink that matched the tips of the demonic quarterback's ears.

“Where did you put the bottle I left here last time?,” Hiruma asked, his voice low, as Musashi's mother usually spent her evenings in the living room directly below them. “I think it was the pink one.”

“It's under the bed, right under you, actually.”

Hiruma dropped his left hand down to the floor and shoved it under the bed, rummaging for a second before bringing up the small bottle of flavoured lubricant he had left behind. It was bubblegum flavoured one that Hiruma had bought especially for the kicker, to let him have for nights when he was alone, and needed something to aid his personal fun. Why bubblegum? To remind him of his blond boyfriend, of course. When your cock smells like chewing gum, it could only mean that you're either getting or just recently received, head from the Devilbats' captain, right? A sure-fire way to arouse Musashi and bring him to quick completion.

“Go ahead then,” Hiruma whispered, his voice harsh as it always was when given at a low tone, as if it was always meant to be heard while hollering. “I'm waiting for ya.”

Musashi dropped his smile and flicked the cap on the bottle, squeezing out a few drops into his palm and taking his cock into his hand, stroking as he eyed the tiny hole between Hiruma's cheeks, the nearly hypnotizing way it contracted and relaxed keeping his mind directly upon it. The kicker pinched the head of his member and groaned softly, shifting his body closer to Hiruma's and patting the other's ass to get him to lift up onto all four's. Hiruma complied and wriggled his ass temptingly, earning himself a brief swat across both cheeks.

He glared back at his lover and got a chuckle in response, then the thick prod of the man's index finger, with tugged to one side to open the blond's hole. The bottle was upturned above it and Musashi squeezed it lightly, allowing the clear but highly scented goo to gurgle its way into the smaller male, waiting a few seconds before righting it and setting it on the dresser with a little stretch to his left.

Hiruma moaned quietly as the cool liquid settled inside of him, happy that this time, the kicker had not dribbled it all over, so it did not tickle him, or pool onto the sheets. He looked back for a second and then looked back to the pillows, his eyes closed tightly and his nails again digging into the blankets, bracing himself as he felt Musashi leaned closer, his cock in one hand while the other rested squarely in the center of Hiruma's lower back.

He nudged the blunt head against the blond's hole and gave his hips a rough thrust, forcing it inside and pausing for a moment, while the gasp and sharp inhale of pain from the smaller man receded. The twitches from deep inside Hiruma's body remained, even as his body relaxed, allowing more of the kicker's cock inside. When fully seated, Musashi placed both hands on Hiruma's hips and pulled back towards himself, grinding against his ass to get the maximum depth that he could, growling slowly through his teeth as the tight muscles held him like a vice.

Musashi spread his legs to gain better leverage and pulled himself free, thrusting back inside immediately and tearing a sharp hiss from the blond's throat, certain that his lover was baring his teeth from the sharpness of the intrusion and growing impossibly hard at the thought. He knew what those teeth felt like when they grazed his cock, or when they were brought together in a snap around his neck.

The kicker leaned forward and put more of his weight on Hiruma's knees, forcing the blond to duck his head down against the pillows to sit comfortably, one arm draped across the pillows for his forehead to rest against, while the other slipped down underneath himself, the slim digits wrapping around his own member and causing him to tighten right up around Musashi, who slapped Hiruma's right cheek as an indication that he had felt it.

“Relax a little. You're gonna crush me at this rate,” he warned, still through clenched teeth. “Feels kinda good when you relax all the way and let me take you hard, Hiruma...”

The blond whimpered slightly, a sound no one, not even the other team members who considered themselves close friends of his, would have recognized as belonging to the valiant, albeit crazy quarterback.

Musashi smiled again, his eyes downcast and the fluff of his mohawk covering his forehead, as he began to thrust hard into the blond. It was still tighter than before but he relished the idea that his lover was pleasuring himself in the meantime, which lead him to believe that he was doing a good job. He could feel the rhythm Hiruma was working to—the one he was being fucked to-- and sped it up a little, earning more grunts from the smaller man and a few of his own. Sweat broke out on his forehead again and he cursed it, knowing that he would have to either shower over again after his mother went to bed, or just wash himself down with a cold cloth after Hiruma had fallen asleep.

With a little shove to Hiruma's back, Musashi righted himself again and used the momentum of pulling back at the blond's hips and the powerful thrusts of his own to counterbalance the awkward pose they were in, pulling himself out until only the head remained inside and then thrusting back inside until his hips slapped Hiruma's ass, a sound that stayed muffled within the room and would certainly not be heard downstairs. The bed was well built and did not creak but the floorboards were hardwood and aging, so they creaked only a touch. Enough to suggest that the bed was moving, but not in any particular rhythm.

“Fucking come already, fucking old man,” Hiruma cursed, his teeth bared against the pillow and his hand working furiously beneath him, harder, more insistent twitches of his bowels telling the larger man that he was near his end.

“Yeah, yeah...”

Musashi threw himself into his release after the blond began to pant loudly, a tell-tale sign that he was either coming at that moment or was about to. He could do it one handed, however, so Musashi held onto the blond's hip with one hand and swatted Hiruma's away with the other, stroking him as he fucked him, servicing him in all ways, throwing the normally scheduled and calculated blond off kilter and winning the small battle as the slow, warm spurts of Hiruma's seed dribbled down his fingers and fell to the blankets below.

It wasn't the tightness of the hole he was pummeling that set him over the edge, rather, it was the taste of his lover's release that did it, as Musashi grunted into his hand, licking the seed from his fingers and adding his own to the glorious hole that pumped him so lovingly. His hand fell to join its partner on Hiruma's hips and he gently laid over the blond's back, giving his right ear a kiss and nuzzling the side of his head, sated and unfortunately sweaty all over again.

Hiruma lifted a hand and reached up to swat the larger man away from him, causing Musashi to chuckle out loud again and slide himself away, hurrying to his laundry pile and draping the damp towel over the edge of the bed, so Hiruma could roll over and sit down without adding more ruin to the sheets. The blond looked at him suspiciously but plopped himself down on the towel anyway, picking up either side of it and draping it over his lap, giving himself back some semblance of dignity while he reached over, got his tea and sipped it again.

Musashi disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later, smelling of the hand soap they kept in the bathroom and his skin shone with dampness, as if he had wiped himself down again. Hiruma, weary from the encounter, got to his feet, used the bathroom and returned with the towel still around his waist and his white dress shirt still on.

“Bedtime, now? Had your fun, fucking old man?”

Musashi smiled and nodded, crawling up to the pillows and shoving the soiled blanket down onto the floor at the foot of the bed, intent on washing it with his laundry the next day. The laptop, off because the battery had died during their rendezvous, sat on the computer desk beside Musashi's reliable old desktop system. The kicker sidled himself into the sheets and rested his head back on both arms, his chest proudly displayed as a place for Hiruma to rest his head when he finally got in.

“Had my fun, yes. Toss the towel over there, get your shirt off and come lay down. I'll be sure to wake up early and get a load into the washer before heading to work. Your pants will be dry by the time school starts and you can leave from here.”

The blond nodded as he closed his laptop and again stuffed it into its case, shoving the bag over towards the door so he wouldn't forget it. He climbed into bed and laid on his side, so that the larger man could drape an arm over his side and snuggle up behind him, his face buried in the slightly scratchy spikes of Hiruma's wild hair.

“Just make sure ya wake me before ya leave. I wanna make sure to see ya off like a good little wife.”

“Wife?”

“Might as well be. I can cook for ya, live with ya without trying to kill ya on a daily basis and I fucking love this shit we do together, so why not?”

“Fair enough. Goodnight, Wifey.”

The smaller bundle beneath the sheets shuddered and nearly had a little bit of a flail-attack, bothered by the appellation, 'Wifey'.

“Ok, fuck the wife shit.”

Musashi nodded behind him, already embarrassed for the both of them.

“Deal.”

“Night, fucking old man.”

“Goodnight, little demon bastard.”