Replay Hit Repeat

Sahara/Kaiji. Frotting, sex at work. Written for the kink meme but stupid livejournal wouldn't let me post so I put it up here, first. HA. Take that, internet.

Replay Hit Repeat

“Kaiji-san,” the voice in his ear mocked and pleaded, “you'll have to be quiet or they'll hear.”

“Mhn...nn,” he said, mouth on the cuff of his jacket.

He'd been half dressed to go home, he'd just wanted to get out of there. Run away from his debt, escape from another day working at the convenience store. Maybe he'd buy some beer on the way home. But Sahara had cut him off before he'd left, he was on the night shift. It was boring, or so he'd reminded Kaiji every chance he got in a whining tone.

“Let's have some fun,” Sahara had whispered in his ear, as Kaiji had been about to close his locker.

A moment's hesitation was enough for Sahara to have slid his hand into the front of his pants and slipped his fingers past his boxers.

“Ah-a!” the surprise startled Kaiji, he cried out.

For a moment they had frozen, the convenience store wasn't exactly vacant. Nishio was on shift with Sahara until midnight, and then the manager would be back for closing.

Sahara laughed into the back of his neck, “I haven't even done anything yet. You're so wound up, it's really cute.”

“Shut up,” Kaiji hissed, “I'm not...cute.”

Nishio was cute. The women on the front of the magazines with pretty smiles and perky boobs were cute. It was a strange thing for Sahara to say to a man, and a little insulting.

“That's just weird,” muttered Kaiji.

Sahara's hand slid lower into his pants, while his other hand slid higher over his chest, until his thumb touched the edge of his pectorals.

“I like weird, Kaiji-san,” Sahara whispered, nipping his ear, “I like you.”

This was what their relationship was made of. Embarrassingly forward proclamations that went along with arguments, fighting and assertions that Sahara wanted Kaiji's company. A few recalcitrant touches here and there, exploding into a shameful capitulation. Kaiji wondered if Sahara liked him at all, or if he simply found him amusing to tease.

Kaiji sputtered, “We'll get caught-”

Kaiji's jacket was caught around his elbows, Sahara leaned over him and edged his pants down. His belt was undone, warm lips against the nape of his neck.

“Shhh,” Sahara murmured, “Only if you're too noisy.”

“S-Sahara!” he tried to slip out of his grasp but he was pinned against the lockers.

“I wanna do it,” Sahara groaned into his ear, “can I?”

Kaiji's legs shook, his erection was pressed almost painfully against his jeans. The danger, the strangeness, it made the encounter all the more exciting. But it was intrinsically wrong - Kaiji couldn't help feeling that way too. That this thing they shared was somehow odd and perverted.

Sahara's hand skirted the tip of Kaiji's dick, barely through his opened jeans, hardly touching. Kaiji's shoulders trembled, he wanted it so badly. It was a terrible craving that flung him into the worst kind of desperation, nothing would satisfy him until he had it. But he wanted to resist, he wanted to...

“Kaiji-san,” Sahara's whispered moan, excitement pounding through both of them.

Kaiji's head dropped in a nod, he was pathetic if he thought about it. Wanting these things from a man, from someone as desperate as himself. Neither of them were moving up doing this to each other.

Sahara's hands were deft, they pulled the belt out far enough so he could slide Kaiji's pants down lower than his hips, and did the same to his own trousers. The first moment as their bare skin touched always made Kaiji shiver, his hips jerked in response.

“Don't take too long,” Kaiji's fears rose up again, “If anyone catches us-”

“I found something slippery,” Sahara said, “It'll be fast, promise.”

Between Kaiji's legs Sahara situated his cock, the feeling of their skin as it touched immeasurably exciting. They hadn't gone all the way, Kaiji didn't think he'd ever be ready for the thought of two guys doing something like that.

“Squeeze your thighs together,” Sahara breathily encouraged.

What they did do was just as good as far as he could tell, when they rubbed together excitedly while the overwhelming randiness took over every action, each thought.

Sahara's hands were slippery, the air smelled like hand cream with floral notes. As he felt Sahara's cock between his slick thighs it was amazing, it was made even better when Sahara grabbed hold of him.

“Nnh-h!”

He wasn't supposed to make any noise but he couldn't help it. Sahara's hands felt so good, they were so close and so warm, wrapped around his dick. Kaiji squeezed his thighs tighter and felt Sahara convulse, his head lolling onto Kaiji's shoulder, heavy breathing in his ear.

It was heady, a rush of bliss. Kaiji could control Sahara from the squeezing of his legs, could make him moan as loud as he wanted. He had power over something, it was as exciting as the feeling of hot skin between his thighs, and the lips tugging at the edge of his ear.

“Kaiji...Kaiji...Kaiji...”

He heard his name being whispered over and over.

“Ahhh...”

Sahara thrusted erratic into the space between Kaiji's legs, forced his own body and cock to burrow into the hot space of Sahara's closed hands.

He felt Sahara's cock as it twitched, spurted cum into the tight space created by his thighs. Kaiji felt himself fall into the heat, and shuddered into Sahara's hands.

“Hah....Haah....,” Kaiji panted.

Sahara chuckled in his ear and then squeezed his cock again, sending Kaiji's arms flailing in surprise. His hands slammed into the locker making a loud bang but Sahara didn't pause, he kept going milking Kaiji's already spent cock.

“It's enough,” he panted, “Stop, please, it hur..ts..,” it did and it didn't, the feeling of hypersensitivity after he came created a strange response in his body.

“It's not the same when you like it,” Sahara murmured in his ear.

His body twitched and then stilled, Sahara relinquished his squeezing. They were both breathing heavily, their bodies relaxing. Kaiji wondered if he could make it home after.

“Sahara! Where's my hand cream?”

Nishio's voice startled them both.

Kaiji held his breath, the evidence of their tryst was everywhere. In the form of used tissues on the floor, the smell of sex in the air and not least, their mutual waist down nudity.

“Uh,” Sahara stuttered, “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“You're supposed to be restocking the back, not having another smoke break,” she reminded him playfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sahara replied, laughing, “Says the girl who slathers herself in hand cream every spare moment,”

“Dry skin!” she chides.

“As if,” Sahara teases.

There's still jizz drying between his legs and Kaiji feels like he's going to die.

If she comes over here and sees us like this...

But Kaiji suddenly has another very good reason to feel mortified, and it's when Sahara picks up the floral cream from the ground they had used and tosses it down the hall to Nishio.

“Hey, I found it for you!” he says, “I'll be out in a second to help stock.”

“Wow, you're the greatest!” she chirps.

The sound of Nishio's shoes clicked away and Kaiji breathed a sigh of relief.

His relief quickly turned into embarrassment as Sahara snickered into his hand. Kaiji punched him in the stomach, not as hard as he'd liked but enough to get his point across.

“Hey! That hurt,” Sahara said, “That's spousal abuse.”

Kaiji turned beat red, “I- we're not married you pervert!”

Sahara laughed even harder.

Five minutes later, and Sahara was back out in the convenience store helping Nishio stock dirty magazines while Kaiji frantically tried to clean jizz off his bag.

“I'm definitely,” he thought, “finding another job!”

But his assertions to find new employment always fell through; he'd have a few beers when he got home and wonder how Sahara was doing at work all night. And then predictably Sahara would call him up on their mutual day off and the whole cycle would begin again.

“Hey...Kaiji-san, what are you doing Sunday?”

It would be the same every time. The shame that lead to humiliation, the embarrassment that ended in capitulation and the strange thing they shared between them, repeating endlessly.