bonercity | 【OPEN/NSFW】☆ SHAMELESS SMUT POST

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【OPEN/NSFW】☆ SHAMELESS SMUT POST

☆ click a pic and get kinks.. looks like u only have three choices.. choose... wisely..
☆ call somebody out???
☆ treat it like a mid-fuck meme i guess...
☆ idk be completely shameless with me.... happy holidays everyone
☆ if somebody isn't here that you want for some reason let me know.... i can probably throw them out here

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_{[ Ugh. That was just.. so unnecessary. Karamatsu smacks his lips, grimacing, and eases up and off of the sofa, picking up both his jeans and undergarments from around his ankles and hoisting them up around his hips, wiggling them back and forth and buttoning the latch. His brows are pinned tightly together, looking exasperated for a moment as he zips himself back up, walking around Ichimatsu. When he passes him, he raises his leg slightly and uses the round of his knee to hit Ichimatsu across the shoulder with it.

Glaring icily down at his younger brother as his foot meets the ground again, his face is red— body still flushed from his orgasm, but also flustered from his irritation. ]}

No, it doesn't matter. That was repulsive and uncalled for. You're the one who wanted to taste me to begin with, asshole.

_{[ He continues walking— carefully— to exit the room and get some water. When he opens the sliding door to leave, it slams shut rather loudly. ]}

Edited 2017-02-11 02:59 (UTC)

[He's silent for a while, knocked forward from the impact of Karamatsu's knee to his shoulder. He stares at the floor beneath his hands supporting him, and he struggles.]

[Because on one hand, holy shit, he has never been so hard in his life. Karamatsu has always been attractive to him, basically pretty much since he hit puberty and became ridiculously jealous of the second sibling's put-together appearance and unrivaled, if misplaced, put-upon confidence. He was endlessly thrilled by the baritone of his voice, the way it cloaked everything in the room in silk and velvet with the faintest of growls when he was irritated or passionate about something. He'd been hopelessly and completely attracted to the notion of him getting angry, and specifically getting angry at him, since he'd very nearly never seen it at all. So with the aggression, the names called, and especially the rough contact-- Jesus, he could probably come in his pants just replaying the moment he realized he'd kissed him with a mouthful of his own semen in his head a few times.]

[He chose to focus on that instead of the much more familiar cold sense of sinking, all-encompassing guilt and self-loathing, because at least it was new and at least he'd feel better for a minute if he successfully jacked himself to orgasm, but while he fought with himself over what to focus on his heart and his throat constricted so tightly it hurt to breathe for a while.]

[He deserved it, though. He'd sucked off his brother, which was wrong to begin with, and then he'd grossed him out and not even apologized for it. When he'd never even done anything worthy of Karamatsu's attention or willingness to permit his depravity.]

[So he focused on his boner, closed his eyes to remember the anger Karamatsu had thrown at him, the rage and the malice, and slowly moved to sit on his knees and press his face into the couch and inhale what was left of the scent of him and his sex. He turned the words over and over in his head like a record skipping and replaying the same short segment of a track, what the hell, dumbass, repulsive, asshole. He was all of these things. And Karamatsu had finally seen that, and if Ichimatsu was never given another chance to suck him off again, the anger that ensued from him sabotaging and royally fucking himself over would be enough fap material for the remainder of his solitary jacking off life.]

[Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that after sliding his pants down his thighs and stroking himself for several minutes, as his hips stuttered and his body shook and he bit into the couch cushion to muffle a guttural shout of his brother's name as he came, hot frustrated tears collected in his eyes and slid down his face.]

[This would leave him a pathetic heap on the couch with his pants around his knees, idly mopping up his mess with a wad of tissues and crying, silent beyond periodic hitches of his breath muffled by the hand, balled into a fist, shoved partway into his mouth.]

_{[ It doesn't take Gintoki very long to pick up the pace, the feeling of desire and lust practically overflowing at this rate. Sure, he may not really be drunk anymore on alcohol, but he was definitely feeling light headed from his libido.
His fingers grip, trimmed nails digging into Jae-Ha's sides as he picks up the pace and rhythm, rutting against him without much caution to the wind as he focuses on satisfying his own erection and feeling of sex starvation that's pumping through his veins and between his ears. His prick slides in and out smoothly with only minor stumbles in his movement, grunting and huffing with each sensational buck. He shifts himself for a moment with a groan before rutting back inside of his partner, the tip of his member rubs and presses against that sweet spot— finally— right where he was teasing earlier, and in just a few seconds after that, he's getting Jae-Ha's sweet spot right on the nose.

By now, one of his hands has taken a-hold of that long, silky hair, twisting it in his fingers and pulling as a reign. ]}

[There's something appealing about having his face to the sheets, fingers gripping tight into them as he's pounded from behind. His whole body moves with each thrust, and he's scrunching up his face, grunting out soft noises as he adjusts.

Then, Gintoki hits that spot, and he cries out, legs trembling slightly in feeling. His fingers curl tighter still, and his forehead touches down to the bed as he gasps out with each following thrust, until finally his head is yanked back with his hair, and his cries aren't muffled by cloth anymore.]

G-gintoki... [Shit, he has to say something or the tension building inside of him will be too much to handle. That's how it feels, and yet he has no words but Gintoki's name and ohs and ahs. A couple of times, his slipping pride lets him mutter something that sounds like "wait", but nothing on his face or in his body says that Gintoki should actually mind him and stop.

His head pulls against his held hair slightly, and the pain has its own pleasure as well. He wants to curl forward, to hide his face and feel this, but he's being forced to stare forward and slightly up thanks to his hair being used as reigns.]

[ Aoba adjusts the setting on his phone to capture the scene in it's entirety - Karamatsu's request, actually, not his. He's embarrassed by the exposure, the fact that he knows there will be a record of their encounter. Just pushing the button makes his skin light up from head to toe as he suddenly feels gripped with self-consciousness.

He's about to be intimate with his boyfriend... his roommate... but he promised this won't be shared. This is just something between them. Despite the deceptive ease of pushing that button, this had taken quite a lot of convincing. Karamatsu by himself is hardly influential by default. This was the culmination of years of trust and knowledge and... no shortage of feelings that grew over time.

Aoba might have fooled around in his youth, but this was different. Karamatsu was... uh. Different. And that was putting it mildly. Let's not get too caught up in the how such a relationship has developed. ]

Y-you promise no one else is going to see this, right?

[ He's already dying of embarrassment, because being on camera, even with the intention of deleting all evidence of their encounter shortly after is humiliation enough. He drops his face into the pillows first, his body spread out over the bed and long blue hair cascading over his shoulders and back. The rest of him is clad only in stockings and a lingerie more suited for a woman with a curvier figure, his own scrawny figure fitting into the lacy garment except for where the top bunches where it doesn't quite fit over his flat chest.

At least this humiliation is shared with them alone, right? ]

...K-Karamatsu? [ Wasn't he going to come in? ]

_{[ How could he not be curious about this? As a media major, filming the actual progress of it all seemed right up his alley. He was a bit pedantic about instructing Aoba how to use the camera. Karamatsu was, in fact, in the bathroom with the door open as Aoba spoke to him-- he probably hadn't even gotten a good look at his boyfriend-roommate thing as he was busy getting ready himself. His attire, for now, covered most of his body, but it was a simple bathrobe.

He couldn't exactly promise he wouldn't show anyone else. Aoba might be a little actor and he doesn't even know it! ]}

Heh. Don't you worry, sunshine. Nobody knows what we're doing.
_{[ that doesn't mean he won't go out and tell them, but who knows. Karamatsu might equally be embarrassed when it's all said and done.
The small noises Aoba makes simply working the camera sends the hairs on his neck sticking up-- it was exciting to have a camera put on him. He loved it.

He lingers in the bathroom doorway, posed as he sweeps his fingers through his on hair. ]}

Ah? Aren't you going to sit up for a little bit?

[ Aoba must have a fetish for misfits to be in this sort of relationship, he only seems to attract rejects of all sorts, ranging from the reprehensible criminal type to... well, NEETs.

God, what does that make him? Aoba grinds his face a little harder into the pillows as if somehow he could bury his embarrassment alive or scrub the unhappy thought from his brain. But still. Karamatsu was his boyfriend, wasn't he supposed to take responsibility for that somehow?

His neck nearly creaks as he turns his head, looking at him through a curtain of blue hair. It's bad enough that he can see the camera at the end of the bed, but looking through the open door of the bathroom to see him in a fluffy white robe... ugh. This is like every bad porn that's ever existed. ]

...M-mm.

[ Aoba relents with that small sound of consent as he struggles with himself, then pushes his hands down onto the bed to sit up. His hair hangs down his back, giving him every appearance of a slim woman's figure until he turns around. ]

It's just -- [ He hesitates, wondering how to adequately describe what's wrong with this situation. There's so much. Too much. ]

Stockings feel weird... my legs feel so tight and dull and this garment...

[ ...Okay, he has to admit that it looks kinda nice, but it feels tight in strange places. Do girls really like wearing this stuff?? ]

I'm not sure if this type of 'roleplay' is going to help you become a famous movie star, Karamatsu-kun.

_{[ I mean, yes, you are supposed to take responsibility for it.. but it's probably a lot more responsibility than you were imagining. Karamatsu's eyes squint slightly, taking in Aoba's image with a satisfying hum (remember, he has glasses here!) and takes a moment to fix his hair. Was the camera on? He gives it one glance to see the red light flashing and--
That's all she fucking wrote. It goes downhill from here. History.

He advances until he reaches the edge of the bed, one hand dropping to gently hold Aoba beneath his chin. Was that sweat on his brow? That was definitely sweat on his brow. Karamatsu was nervous, but he does this great thing: hiding it. ]}

Fame, and things of that sort, are fragments of happiness. They are here and gone the next day-- but you and who you are.. I believe the kind of happiness you can give me will last an eternity.

Ah, yes, it is a dream to have fame.. to make it big! But I feel as if there is the chance it would not work out, going to this university here and meeting you made it well worth it, my honey.

_{[ will he shut up???? the answer is no. ]}

[ Isn't that a lot of over-the-top dialogue? But this is... normal for Karamatsu. He should be used to it, but he doesn't think he'll ever get there. Not in a million years. There is a special sort of resignation required of Aoba in this relationship, the kind that makes Aoba question if he's a little bit masochistic to tolerate all these painful, cringe-worthy moments.

But when Aoba sees he's sweating, he thinks that he's also kind of cute. He really tries hard, doesn't he? ]

Kara-kun! D-don't...

[ Oh, there it is. This is why he likes him so much. Even though it's embarrassing and wordy, sometimes a few things emerge from the confusing mess that sound really, truly sweet. Aoba feels color bloom in his cheeks, but he can't turn his face away with his chin lifted and held like this.

He thinks it's time for him to do something, so he lifts one of those legs. He's skinny but flexible, and although the stockings dull the sensations on his skin, he hooks his toes into the loose knot of his robe and pulls it down, then leans back slightly to slip his foot up and along his chest and stomach to push the robe open. ]

I-it's embarrassing when you say those kind of things so earnestly.

[ Which is basically always. ]

_{[ And there is the reason he likes Aoba so much. Or one of them. He could write a textbook essay about Aoba and he probably has, somewhere, stashed between both terrible poetry and cheap porn he keeps somewhere secretive. Aoba gives him positive attention— desire, even— something that he's certain he hasn't come across so genuinely in his entire life.

Maybe, just maybe, Aoba will fixate on Karamatsu's face, or even the gold chain around his neck, but certainly not what's below his waist: his half hardness cradled in a blue leopard print thong. Please, dear God, don't let your eyes wander down there just yet. ]}

What sort of things? How your hair is beautiful as the vast ocean? Or your eyes are like a pair of sunflowers in the summertime?

_{[ His hand shifts to hold Aoba at the calf, preventing him from pushing his robe off completely. ]}

Or I could talk about how gorgeous your heart is instead. Heh, would you prefer that?
_{[ He slides his hand up along the inside of Aoba's leg to try and remove one of those stockings. If Aoba observes closely, again, there's a small sign of his nervousness: his ears are turning pink. ]}

[ Oh god, he's in full swing now. Once he starts, it's nearly impossible to end it without stopping up his mouth in a literal sense. Aoba tucks his chin in, blue hair curtaining over his eyes as he flushes a deeper red from the roots of his hair to almost halfway down his neck. He wants to curl into himself, disappear. He can feel that camera's presence so strongly right now, capturing every humiliating second.

Sunflower eyes... just what kind of visual image is that?!

He doesn't get to do any of that, not when his leg is seized in hand. He tips his chin back up again, his other leg lifting briefly as he attempts to counterbalance. Aoba braces himself on the bed, his leg held aloft with one hand leaves him feeling abruptly vulnerable, his mobility limited to keeping his balance. His toes curl inside the stockings reflexively when he feels that warm hand running along the inside of his leg, muscles tensing when it runs up his thigh. Oh no, that's... actually kind of turning him on, and it makes him feel foolish when something so simple does, especially those little moments when Karamatsu doesn't try so hard, does something without thinking. ]

Nn- [ Aoba starts objecting faster than he can unlock his jaw, shifting as he fights the urge to squirm under that sensation that falls just shy of ticklish as that hand travels up his leg. ]

This is cruel, Karamatsu, making me... [ Blush this much? No, even saying that out loud makes it worse. He chews on his lower lip, then stretches out his other leg, running the tip of his foot up his bare stomach and chest. He might be inflicting his own quiet brand of payback for making him blush this badly, stroking his foot up and then back down, nudging his half-hard dick tucked into that very flashy pair of underwear. ] Don't... exaggerate, it's embarrassing...

_{[ Success, there it is. He hooks his finger around the top of the stocking, sliding it easily and slowly down along each elegant curve of his leg. What dainty little legs— Karamatsu is fond of them; he's a leg kind of guy similar to Todomatsu, but Karamatsu probably also finds feet pretty cute too. That's probably why he doesn't mind the amount of teasing his partner does with his foot. ]}

Perhaps, then, you shouldn't get so embarrassed so—
_{[ There's sudden pressure where he rubs against his groin, causing Karamatsu to hitch his breath and freezes, pushing the breath out through his words: ]}

So easily!
_{[ The stocking is off and Karamatsu dips down to kiss along the inside of his leg— delicately and carefully, as if he were handling porcelain, something very breakable.

It was all very disgusting.

He recoils back up, parting his lips to speak again, no. ]}

Ah, but I cannot blame you, being in such a radiant presence that I give. It must make you very warm, hah? To know I will do my best to make you feel safe, secure, and satisfied.
_{[ Just when you think it won't get any worse, he removes his robe with a simple movement: merely rolling both of his shoulders backwards and pushing his shoulder blades together. ]}

[ Aoba has found a temporary cure for that feverish blush, and that is the victorious feeling that blooms in his chest when he startles his roommate. He looks momentarily pleased with himself, feeling like he's scored one point in his favor as retaliation for all those feelings Karamatsu was evoking and overloading him with compliments.

That victory is short lived, and seems to do little at all to dissuade Karamatsu from removing one stocking at a slow (and admittedly kind of sexy) pace. The stockings were a little tight on his legs, so when they're peeled off, Aoba gives a light sigh as the cool air hits his skin. Weirdly, they also seemed to make his legs look pretty nice, something he'd noticed only while he was running his foot against him. ]

Nn- ah... haah...?

[ That's... really sweet, just the sort of thing that would sicken Other Aoba, but has the opposite effect on him - stunned at first, his brows lifting as sweeter sounds escape his lips, breathless sighs of heightening arousal. He's being so gentle, so tender, it's fills Aoba with a growing impatience. He shifts restlessly on the bed, his foot bracing against Karamatsu's hip, each kiss is tortuously slow until --

Until he ruins it. Stands there with the robe pooling at his feet, that ridiculously shiny gold chain and... what appears to be a flashy banana hammock. Aoba stares at him, red-faced at the sound he just made and a little mad that Karamatsu stopped. So he lifts the other leg from where it rested on his hip and presses the stocking'd tip right over his mouth. ]

...Less talking, more making out. [ Please, as if he'd stop. Hopefully he won't stop, Aoba is just like this. ]

_{[ If there is one thing that gets his blood pumping beneath his skin, it's the want— the verbal commands and being told what to do. Karamatsu loves doing things for people, which makes his personality a little more tolerable if people will give him a chance to show it. He catches Aoba right at the ankle, pressing the rounds of his thumbs against his foot; a brief massage as he looks down at him. ]}

Oh? Is that eagerness filling to the very brim? Like a goblet filled with wine, I will pour your glass--

_{[ He shifts, pressing along Aoba's leg as he leans over, baring into Aoba. His mouth goes straight for the top of the stocking at the thigh, teeth nipping against both the fabric and the surface of his partner's skin. He glances up at him. ]}

--And make it overflow.
_{[ Then he'll try to remove the stocking. You know, with his teeth. ]}

[ Aoba stills when the other leg is held aloft as well and color blooms a little more in his cheeks. This is kind of lewd, having not just one but both legs in the air, but he drops the other when Karamatsu releases it to capture that one foot in his hands. His hands are warm, so it's kind of ni--

A jolt shivers up his spine and makes his shoulders twinge when he presses those thumbs into the softer arch of his foot and along some other points - the outer edge and a part of his heel in particular are sensitive. He, who has never had a foot massage in the 23 years of his life, has no idea what to expect. But it seems to hurt and feel good and tickle all at once and his body doesn't know how to respond to that (thankfully brief) stimulation. ]

W-wait, not th--fffahaha! [ Aoba spasms slightly as a giggle erupts out of him. It makes his next round of scolding objections sound amused and jovial. He feels a blast of hot air high on his thigh and sucks in a quick breath through his teeth, still clenched tight in a nervous smile. He's... trying to remove it with his teeth, catching his skin in light nips that makes the breath catch in his chest.

Aoba doesn't know how to deal with Karamatsu when he does sexy things while saying such extra lines. ]

The things you say!

[ Bearing his weight on one arm, he stretches out his other hand and ruffles through Karamatsu's hair, playing with it. With him so close, Aoba lifts his other bare leg and runs it along the side of his body, then drapes it over his shoulder. Maybe it's because even Aoba knows there's no way he can sound more embarrassing than Karamatsu can, that crown is practically made for his head, but somehow it seems a little easier to say those things he thinks about but is too shy to give them voice. Nevertheless he does, his voice softens to a near whisper, gripped with hesitation. ]

But I guess - after even all that... you're... kind of good with... your mouth.

_{[ Seeing Aoba laugh makes him smile; a genuine, warm smile and not something so fake and put-on like a lot of his arrogant looking smirks. He's got his shitty points in his personality, but one thing he does like to see is other people happy.. especially if he has played a part in it.

The fabric from the stocking slides slowly and steadily along his partner's leg, his hair slipping out of Aoba's fingers as he moves it past his knee in success. He does sputter to the side, having a stray piece of fluff from the stocking catch in his tongue.

Aoba's words cause him to swallow thickly, his cheeks tinting. ]}

Y-Yes, well. I suppose I have no other choice than to bestow upon you my sweet kisses, my beloved. I could begin from the edges of your fingers, like here, _{[ he'll bring Aoba's fingers to his lips ]} and make sure every inch of you has its own attention because--

Every inch of you deserves just that.
_{[ Wasn't he aiming for raunchy porno for this video? Why is this B romance movie rated now?
Nonetheless, he shifts, sliding on the bed, in between Aoba's legs, meshing their arousal together.
His body feels immensely warm, but oddly enough, his hands are a little colder than the rest of his body. He cups the back of Aoba's head, looking down at him. ]}

Is that what you want?

Edited 2017-08-02 03:09 (UTC)

[ Okay, so pulling off clothes with one's teeth is rapidly becoming the turn-on Aoba never quite expected. It's just the right kind of playful, particularly when Karamatsu seems catch onto the material in just such a way that he's forced to spit the stuff out. It puts Aoba a little more at ease, and for that he's at least a little grateful. ]

S-stop... ahaha! [ Aoba's objections ride on a light, bashful laugh that is a little breathless, particularly after he kisses his fingers. That gesture is sweet, but almost saccharine sweet and he's not sure if he'll ever get used to being doted on quite like this. But... Aoba's taken a look at the kind of adult films guys usually liked and they're rarely this... romantic. But let's face it, even for a chick flick this is over the top. ]

When you say that... nnh!

[ The hand at the back of his head makes his hair tingle, the strange nerve endings that creep past follicles to the very tips of every blue strand have sensation of their own, and even the gentlest touch makes him tense. As Karamatsu joins him on the bed, his arm can't support both of their combined weights so it wobbles and then slips out from under him. He exhales sharply, but the hand at the back of his head keeps him from hitting the bed too hard. ]

...

[ He's careful how he moves his head now, not wanting to accidentally snag his hair on something as he gives a slight bob of his head, nodding. As usual, getting Aoba to articulate clearly what he wants is a challenge - he shies away, clams up even at the sound of his own voice echoing off the walls.

He deflects instead of answering him directly, his hand slipping out of Karamatsu's cool hand and shooting under the pillow, sliding his phone out from under it and closer at hand -- he'll put this to use later. He then pulls at the blanket, one of the legs on either side of Karamatsu kicking out as a brief counterbalance before he sweeps the end of it over both of their bodies and heads both. It's a light colored comforter, so the light filters right through it.

...Just what is Aoba doing? ]

Edited (you saw nothing) 2017-08-07 00:24 (UTC)

_{[ He's a bit surprised by Aoba's sudden movements. A sharp exhale is heard as they topple on the mattress and before he knows it he's covered in a blanket. Well, goodness, this goes against the entire point he wanted. He resists slightly by placing his hands on either side of Aoba and pushing off of him, hovering over his body.

He can't get mad at Aoba for it, but he's certainly going to tease. ]}

A..ah, you're wanting to cheat by having our bodies covered now, are you?

[ He should have known this wouldn't have gone over well. He'd had his heart set on this being recorded, so even with the camera on his phone near at hand, it seems like a poor replacement. But as Karamatsu lifts up above him, blanketed with the evenly filtered light bleeding through the pale fabric, he can't help but feel a sort of admiration for the casual intimacy of that image. The two of them alone in their makeshift tent. Aoba swallows hard.

Ugh, how sappy. Karamatsu must be rubbing off on him something fierce. ]

...!!

[ He's been caught. And here he'd been ready to claim that his motives were purely altruistic, but when faced with even a gentle accusation, Aoba's face floods with a sudden blush. His hands slip off his shoulders and drop beside his head next to his blue hair. He holds his breath and lays there, watching him and reluctant to speak.

His hazel eyes dart to the side, then back up again. His lips part, tighten around the words that refuse to come out and then he fidgets beneath him, his legs shifting. ]

It's just... your hands were cold... [ And he's a little embarrassed. The lame excuse he makes doesn't help, only heightens that sensation. ]

_{[ Fortunately enough, Karamatsu is about as dumb as he acts, so when Aoba so innocently makes the lame excuse, he believes him like the gullible person he is. ]}

Oh..
_{[ His voice is soft as his dark eyes bounce to his hands pressing into the mattress— he supposes they are pretty cold. He doesn't exactly like that part about him, so the fact that Aoba points it out makes him feel insecure.

Thankfully, he plays it off and feels his lips twist upward in a devious grin. ]}

Perhaps you should warm them— and the rest of me, then. Heh.

Edited 2017-08-16 03:41 (UTC)

[ Ah, he's making this is responsibility, is he? ]

How... do you --

[ Aoba's mind reels, thinking of how. There's blowing air through his hands cupped around Karamatsu's, hot air pooling into the well it creates. But that's hardly sexy, right? It's just... a thing parents of brothers do to help those younger than them to warm up. It's pretty innocent.

Aoba looks down at what he's wearing - a lacy babydoll top and panties that make him look more feminine than he would have in those sky blue trunks he favors. This is pastel pink and hardly something warming. It's snug at the top but opens up at the front just below his sternum, revealing the skinny torso beneath. Just how is he supposed to warm him?

It occurs to him what he should do, and he struggles with it. He lifts up from the bed, getting up close enough to bump his nose against his and brush it against his in a brief (and red-faced) show of fondness, complete with a brush of his lips against his before he pushes off the blanket from around them and puts his hands on his shoulders. ]

Y-you'd better not save these recordings, Kara-kun.

[ He tries to switch their positions, pushing Karamatsu onto his back against the bed as he clambers over his prone figure instead. He can't very well warm him up if he leaves this entirely up to him, can he? Furthermore the position left them little in the way of warming those hands of his if he has to use them to keep himself upright, so as Aoba throws a leg over his body and straddles him, he guides his hands up beneath the sheer layers of the negligee top he's wearing, running his hands up his skinny torso. ]

...I'll really make you regret it if you try to go back on your word!

_{[ Whoa! Aoba can be really.. assertive like this? Karamatsu is impressed since he gets so flustered so easily and doesn't do much to conceal that fact (Karamatsu, on the other hand, hates showing people he's embarrassed.) His grin his crooked once he's misplaced and on his back now, feeling goosebumps creep to the surface of his skin— it's almost as if he is having trouble keeping up his smooth guy façade. This wasn't how this was supposed to go! Karamatsu was supposed to lead for the camera to see, but--?

As of now, Karamatsu is too curious to protest, so he tries to speak soothingly. It's a pity his voice cracks at first: ]}

W—What are you doing, mon cher? Aaah, is this what you have in mind to make us warmer?
_{[ Cause it's working. ]}

[ Aoba can get wound up like anyone else, arguably a little easier when you know the right buttons to push... enough to lay hold onto the proverbial reigns and pull - be it through the power of annoyances or frustration, both in this case.

The stare of that camera's lens aimed at them on the bed is something he can't ignore, and Aoba nearly squirms under it's scrutiny. He's always aware of it, there... right in the corner of his eye, feeling it bore into him until he just can't stand to have it in his sight, overwhelming his own embarrassment at being this forward. Aoba, despite all his protests, is surprisingly into a lot of things... even if he'll flatly or heatedly deny it. He has a thirst and that only seems to feed into his insecurity.

It's like he's some pathetic slave to his own urges. Indecent, shameful. That's what brings Aoba to tuck his chin tighter to his chest as he feels the stare of the camera at his back this time, his face flushing red as he finds himself sitting on Karamatsu with his own sex bumping up against that painfully loud thong he's wearing.

Biting his lower lip, he doesn't know how to answer that. Already feeling his own temperature rise as shame floods through him. He bends down, pressing his forehead against his chest. ]

I... don't know what that means. Is that... another language?

[ Aoba hands, pressed into the sheets on either side of him, slowly starts to wind around his waist, tucking one under Karamatsu as the other merely rests on his side, unsure of what to do. He's not used to being in this kind of position of control, so he freezes almost instantly. Fixating on the foreign words, however, gives him enough of a distraction to push through his fluster enough to tilt his head slightly to the side, peeking out at him through his bangs. He's... supposed to do something, if he's going to take charge, right?

His lips part, exhaling a nervous breath as he tongues his tongue to Karamatsu's nipple, squeezing his eyes shut because it's just too much to watch him while he does something like this. ]

Heh, of course it is another language. Not only do I speak English, I know French too. You should know that by now--
_{[ By "speak" French, he knows a few phrases, but those are minor details, right? His rest rattles with some laughter, pleased at the warmth his partner is giving, but it comes to a sudden stop when he feels the sensation of Aoba's tongue swirling against the dusk colored nub crowned on his chest. He hitches his breath and releases a soft— but embarrassing— sound. He instinctively shoves his hand through Aoba's fringe, holding on his hair with light pressure. He peers at him, curious. ]}

O-oi, you're wanting to take lead this time?
_{[ Such confidence. He's impressed! ]}

[ Aoba mumbles against his skin, appreciating the distraction but there's no way Karamatsu would let him off that easily - he predictably returns his attention back on Aoba's sudden decision to assert himself. ]

All those foreign words kinda jumble together sometimes, I don't know how you remember all that stuff.

[ Aoba tenses at the touch. Even this light pressure he's using to push back his hair sends a tight, tingling sensation through him as those blue strands receive signals as sensitively as any nerve ending can. It shivers down his spine enough to make his body quake briefly, his jaw tightening as he exhales softly, but tense. ]

N-no, I just - [ Defensively, Aoba's first instinct is to deny it. Has to mentally tell himself this is fine, nothing they haven't done before. Well, the camera is new. But he's pretending it's not there. So here he'll be, trying valiantly to come across instead as teasing. The fact that he's red from his hairline to the tips of his ears and halfway down his chest somewhat ruins the effect. He resists the urge to flinch back at the hand in his hair but he endures it. So long as he doesn't grip it too tightly or pull... it should be fine. ]

It's not as much fun if you're doing everything... and besides. [ All that muttering close to his skin heats him with every hitched breath so Aoba tastes him with his tongue again with delicate, kittenish licks. ] Are you feeling warmer? I won't feel like I've done this properly until you're hot.

[ GOD. Even that was embarrassing, but it thrilled him a little just getting it out. Granted, in that small and haltering way he does, mumbling as if unused to vocalizing in such a manner, but since Karamatsu seemed to enjoy it...

Squeezing his eyes shut, he pulls the nipple into his mouth and sucks on it, his knees drawing in on Karamatsu's sides as he braces himself. ]

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