Hot Mess

Mikoto doesn’t care too much of knowledge. He either knows something, or he doesn’t. If it’s important he’ll find out, or someone will tell him, but if it’s not, he doesn’t concern himself. His pride doesn’t concern itself with his intelligence, even though he is fairly smart. (“Lazy.” A deep baritone rings through his mind.) He’s not a scholar or naturally curious. He practically has no secrets, and besides being a King, what’s there to keep?

But there are some things he doesn’t want anyone knowing about. And this-this is one of them. If Mikoto could get his mind to focus on anything but Reisi, he would have thought something along the lines of ‘I wonder what everyone would think of the clean and crisp Blue King now.’

Reisi wraps his hand around Mikoto’s cock, he strokes up and down several times before his hand stops at the base and he leans back down to flick his tongue over Mikoto’s cockhead, back and forth, licking up and around, tonguing the slit until his hands, chin and lips are an absolute mess of spit and pre-come. Mikoto wouldn’t dare close his eyes, not to this, not to this sight. Mikoto is used to feeling like an inferno waiting to burst from his skin, Red Aura ready to explode and demolish everything around him. But looking down at Reisi, seeing him-feeling him, now that makes Mikoto burn in a whole different way, makes him still want to explode-in Reisi’s pretty little mouth. Oh, and being pretty and little doesn’t stop that mouth from doing the most obscene things Mikoto’s ever seen.

Reisi pulls slightly back, spits on the tip and lowers his lips back down to take Mikoto back into his mouth. Reisi’s eyes flick up and their eyes lock just as Reisi decides to give him a harsh suck that has Mikoto’s breath hitching and his hips tilting up without him meaning to. “Fuck,” he rasps, hands gripping the sheets hard. (“Uh-uh, no touching. Stay put.” Reisi had said, pushing his hands back down to the bed. He did not, however, complain when Mikoto took off his glasses.)

Reisi takes it, swallows him down, no hint of a complaint, just a languid hum that’s accompanied by a look that Mikoto knows means trouble. Reisi is looking up at him from under his long lashes, his eyes bright with a playful smirk that would have been on his mouth had it not been wrapped around Mikoto’s cock. Mikoto shudders in want, he wants to fuck Reisi so bad, but he also doesn’t want this to stop-no matter how tortuous Mikoto knows it’s bound to get.

Reisi continually bobs his head, he has one hand on the base of Mikoto’s cock, stroking what he can’t fit in his mouth and the other is tucking his hair behind his ear. He’s relentless in his attack, not stopping nor slowing the movement of his head, the stroking of his hand, the flicking of his tongue. Reisi continues on even when saliva is trailing down his chin, mouth pulled back to smirk at Mikoto as Reisi’s thumb swirls around his cockhead and smears the pre-come at the tip. That gets a moan from Mikoto, guttural in his throat (he’s close to being close), instinctive and unrestrained. Reisi never once wipes his mouth.

“You’re the worst,” Mikoto pants, hips canting up into Reisi’s grip.

“Hmm, am I?” Reisi murmurs as he bends down again, bypassing the head and kissing his way to Mikoto’s sac, tilting his head and mouthing his way back up. He strokes wherever his mouth isn’t and continues to mouth up Mikoto’s cock; when he gets to the head, he swirls his tongue a few times around the slit before mouthing back down the other side.

There’s a hand on Mikoto’s hips, keeping his involuntary thrusts up at bay, but the closer he gets to climax, the harder his hips buck up. When he gets too much for Reisi to handle, Reisi mouths up one last time, sucks on the head and let’s Mikoto thrust up into his mouth and hands.

Mikoto’s hands let go of the bed and come up to frame Reisi’s face, brushing strands of his hair back. Reisi’s hands are on Mikoto’s hips, but he doesn’t try to stop him, letting out a few pleased hums when Mikoto pulls on his hair or massages the back of his scalp.

Mikoto starts to curl into himself, mouth open and panting, eyes half-lidded and heavy, but he can’t close them. If he did he wouldn’t be able to see Reisi. Reisi, who is so unbearably pretty, whose pink lips stretch just so over the girth of Mikoto’s cock, whose violet eyes simmer with want as they never stray from Mikoto’s own. Mikoto has never been a man of words, but Reisi does things to his mind-and body, that leave Mikoto breathless and half-strangled with the filthy curses coming out of his mouth. (“Shit like that feels so fucking good baby yes-”)

Resi shivers. The shit Mikoto says makes him want to swallow more, to choke on it. He breathes through his nose, trying to let Mikoto in that much deeper, lips stretched painfully wide around him, saliva dripping down Reisi’s chin and Mikoto’s length.

“Reisi.”

Resi pulls back to move back down, licking where he knew Mikoto likes it best and sucks at the head, tonguing just under the crown. Mikoto’s breathing gets heavier, his panting louder, his hips more erratic even as they spasm under his hands.  

“Reisi.”

He pulls back from Mikoto’s cock with a loud and filthy pop. He grabs Mikoto’s shaft and strokes as he tongues the tip again, mouth open in invitation. It’s the look in Reisi’s eyes that does it for Mikoto, the one that lights up his eyes almost in challenge. The one that says ‘C’mon, do it, I dare you.’

That’s all that Mikoto needs.

Mikoto comes with a moan that is an octave higher than his normal voice, his hands still buried in Reisi’s hair, abdominal muscles twitching. He involuntarily closes his eyes when he comes, regrets it but forgets the regret when he opens them back up and the first thing he sees is Reisi. Reisi, who makes him shiver as he cleans the head of Mikoto’s cock with kitten licks, his tongue licking the semen caught at the edges of his mouth, missing the drops on his chin, the strand on his cheek. Mikoto honestly thinks if Reisi gives him a few minutes he’ll get hard again from that sight alone.

Resi is still staring at him with that look as Mikoto is trying to calm his breathing. His hair is mussed, the violet of his eyes smoldering, his mouth a mess. Mikoto lifts a hand and wipes Reisi’s chin with his thumb. He brings it to Reisi’s lips and his eyes glow light embers when the Blue King doesn’t hesitate to suck it clean. Mikoto pulls his hand back to cup Reisi’s cheek and to bring their faces together.

“Hmm…your turn.” 

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heh. well it's 1 am. i am going to bed (gotta douse myself in holy water first but yeah) thanks for reading! ^^