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FAST!
SECOND ARC: Everyday

Morning
Author: Mushroom
Uke's POV
Rating: Hard R
Summary: The pair evaluate their enhanced sex life, and now that they're living under the same roof, the seme finds it hard to suppress his hormonal urge.



He’s so warm...damnit, I should be getting used to this. That fucking shit of a bastard, now I simply don’t care about the noise outside anymore, not when I could feel his familiar weight over me, making me believe that I am even more secure than I have ever felt before -- telling me that this is my home, and that this is what I have.

I felt wet lips pressing against my cheek; soft and quick little kisses journeyed southwards. His naked body brushed against mine, giving a strange electric shock that pulsated throughout my entire body.

The wall clock sounded, signaling that it was twelve o’ clock midnight, and the neighbor’s car honked noisily outside in the once silent street -- still, they failed to distract me. I could hear nothing but his exhausted yet satiated breathing.

There was something wrong about this moment, though…something…

“…Stop…”

There was no reply. The freak was clearly too engrossed in what he would constantly call his “favorite pastime.” I pushed his arm gently but to no avail; instead he groped my back, marking vertical lines on my skin with his smooth fingers, thus sending happy shivers down my spine. I tried to wriggle out of my position and failed; his legs were planted firmly at my sides, preventing me from movement. It was bothering me…

“…Stop, please...”

It was no use. Once he indulged in his not-so-guilty pleasure, there was no escape. I gave off a moan that sounded like a cross between a burble and a cry of shock as I felt the tip of his tongue trace circles just below my chest, lower and lower, making me writhe helplessly beneath him. He smiled deeply; I wanted to hit him but I felt so vulnerable and weak; the only thing I could manage to do was to tighten my grip on his shoulder. I knew was going to die right then and there, I was going to make a complete fool of myself if he continued using his tongue in other ways inconceivable, I would dissolve if he didn’t stop doing whatever he was doing to me; and it felt so good, so fantastic…I would die if he went on and on, but I would also die if he stopped…because I wanted it so badly, oh, I didn’t want him to stop…not now…

“…STOP!!!”



My voice echoed across the room, making my cat jump out of its comfy sleep. He jerked his head back, surprised. I was breathing really hard; it took every inch of my willpower to refuse what he was giving me, and boy was it hardest thing I have ever accomplished.

I regretted screaming at him when I saw the look in his eyes; they were full of concern that was rare for most people given the “intense” situation we were in. “What’s the matter?” He asked. “I didn’t…I didn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Then he gulped, looking really guilty. “I was just well, too lost in the moment…and ahhh, I thought of this new idea and…decided to um,” He cleared his throat. “…Use it and check the umm…effects—“

I looked at him severely, hoisted my left arm, and switched the lampshade off.

He gave me a look that bluntly stated, What the fuck…?

“We have to conserve ENERGY,” I explained firmly, emphasizing the last word with the snootiest voice I owned. “Why did you suggest keeping the lamp open the whole night? Are you out of your mind?! What kind of an idiotic idea is that? What good has it brought to us?! Have you seen our BILLS lately?! We have a lot of stuff to pay and you know that we don’t earn much! We still haven’t paid for the water bill, our rent, then we had to fix your car, and my cat got run over by a bicycle that you oh-so-carefully rode on when I told you that the brakes were faulty—but no, you still insisted on using the rusty thing! We have to conserve electricity from now on, do you hear me!? I TOLD you to stop watching those stupid war movies that do nothing but burst our speakers, wake our neighbors, and RAISE OUR ELECTRIC BILLS!"

"You listen to the radio loads of times." He pointed out with a pout that permanently ruined his adonic appearance.

I flushed. "Y-you listen to it too! But you--you watch too much television! Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’ve been cooking up silly things and even including them in our…our…”

“Evening escapades?” He suggested with a rather childish grin, index finger high up in the air. “…Naughty adventures? Oh wait, this is a good one: ...Hot and sultry exploits?”

I felt my face burn. “As I as saying, we—“

“So…you stopped me,” He cut in, “Just because I left the friggin’ lamp shade ON!?”

I waited for his explanation. The cat swished its tail, listening raptly.

He sighed. “I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

I gave him a look. I wasn’t used to making love with him while light glared on my face like a hotel sign in Las Vegas. We usually retreated to the comfort of our bed and touched each other in the silence of the night. As long as I felt him near me, I would know that it was him, and I was ready for everything. Laughter would emerge amidst the darkness of our room, followed by whispers and stifled moans…and everything would be all right.

I made a face. He wanted to look at me, while…while…WE WERE…?!

Damn, and I was closing my eyes the whole time while HIS was wide open, the ass!

My face betrayed me, and he caught the gist of it and nodded. I felt suddenly shy. He laughed. “Heh, I’ve never heard of someone who would blush after reacting quite positively to unstoppable bedroom skills…as if it was the first time.”

I glowered at him. “Why the hell would you like to look at me while we’re doing it?! Are you some…some psychotic pervert or something?!”

“We have already established that, I believe. Yes, I am indeed a psychotic pervert…but that’s not my true motive.” He leaned back and spoke in a business-like manner. “We ALWAYS close our eyes. We have never seen each other. The lights are always turned off. What are we, creatures of the night? Why are we hiding? Come on, haven’t you even wondered what I look like in the midst of our passionate—“

“Are you expecting me to bulge my eyes out and say, ‘Oh my, your muscles are so well-toned and oozing with appeal!’ or crap like that?! Fortunately I’m not so perverted enough to stare at you while shacking it up—“

“Wait a sec, are you saying that what we were doing a while ago didn’t make YOU a pervert? As far as I can remember—and I can remember it well, because I SAW it, and I have a reliable photographic memory—you were enjoying yourself immensely. What’s wrong if we look at each other every now and then? Are you telling me I have no right to look at your reaction when it’s what keeps me going? I love looking at you because you’re gorgeous, damnit…and you’re so good-looking that most of the time I’m torn apart between just looking at you and holding you because both of them give me equal pleasure."

I held my breath. Think of a nice comeback. You're good at this. You're supposed to snap at him with one of your clever one-liners, leave him wordless, and continue what we've left BUT with the lampshade shut. No light, not a speck. I'm a vampire.

"Y-you...you--Why would you like looking at me?! There's absolutely nothing nice to look at. You always tease me "skinny long-legged frog" and you point at my wounds when I fall off the skateboard and laugh like it was the funniest thing ever--"

"--I was kind of mean, wasn't I?" He looked sad. "But honestly, I have nothing but pure worship for you and your body right now."

"That's because you're aroused." I retorted. and a filthy pervert, I added as an afterthought.

"My point exactly." He grinned. Wait a sec. "...Every time I see you enjoying yourself it keeps me motivated and confident…and I’m glad that you feel that way when I touch you.” He said all these in one breath, ranting in his natural way that made me fall for him in the first place.

My protest died in my throat before it was released. He flicked the lampshade on and I realized my eyes were resting on his face. I eyed him slowly from feet to head, until my gaze landed on his lustrous black hair, and I ran my hands through it, biting my lips.

My face was still scorching hot…but I finally understood what he meant. The self-confessed psychotic pervert was one smart man, he was always right, and I wasn’t even annoyed. In fact, I had never felt so thrilled in being proven wrong.

“We need some eye candy, sometimes. My eyes are hungry.” The prick laughed heartily, rubbing his forehead on my neck. “And don’t worry…I got a raise. I’ll pay the bills as soon as I come home from work tomorrow. Which reminds me, we need to buy a new lampshade…this one’s kinda small, doncha think? You know I want to see my man perfectly. Every inch, every lasting detail…” his words trailed softly, teasingly.

“Shut up, horny bastard.” I blurted, pulling him towards me. The noise outside died again. The last thing I could remember was the smile on his face and his arm pulling the blanket over us both; covering us from the world in the process. The light from the lamp made it look like he was emitting a soft glow; and so we laughed like crazy because it was just like the time we slept on a tent during summer camp.

"...Do I really look like a skinny, long-legged frog?"

"...Are you THAT conscious about it?"

"Mmm." I rubbed my palms on his shoulders.

"Doesn't matter. I adore you." He said.

The cat purred and resumed its broken sleep.

***

A recapitulation.

After making love for the first time I woke up in the morning feeling sticky, warm and embarrassed. As usual, movies and books were wrong; first times were never magical and romantic. First times were awkward, revolting and a pain in the arse...but maybe that's because we're both guys.

He was snoring loudly and it irritated me to no end. My clothes were scattered on the floor like it was whiffed off by a tornado, and a scent that suspiciously smelled like a worn-out sock emerged from the pile of mess. I felt glad that I forgave him, but my body still felt sore. The jerk woke up rather abruptly, glanced at me, and said, “…Huh? Wut are ya doin’ here?”

I punched him on the face. He sported a bruise on his right eye and got teased by his classmates. His excuse was that he fell off the bed; which was true, since it really happened…after the punch, of course.

Our second try was number one in my "Worst Experiences in bed with my Stupid Horny Partner" list (in case you're wondering, there IS a "Best Experiences in bed with my Hot Partner" list, but that bit comes later). He kept on rambling nonsense about woolen comforters and I was digressing by mentioning my math subject in a rather high-pitched tone; when it was obvious that we both wanted to drop everything and get it on the bed once more. We did, eventually…after he convinced me that Math was the most pointless subject in the world and that I needed love and guidance instead. Don’t know how the hell we got on the bed, though. The next day I woke up freezing to death because he stole the whole blanket and I was in the friggin’ nude and yes, still sore.

I jabbed him in the ribs and ignored his pleas for forgiveness as I threatened to dissect him with a fork for my biology class.


***


We also shared the occasional conversations before, during and after sex. Before sex usually consisted of me shouting “Oof, you bastard! We just did IT last night! I’m STILL sore and you insisted on doing IT on the floor!” and him replying with a smirk and fumbling of buttons. “It’s not my fault, it’s YOUR fault. The floor was nice and cool. Besides, you make me feel restless down there.”

He never really explained what down there meant. Only when he’s pressed close to me (so close even my mother never bridged that gap, not that she wanted to anyway), and his down there regions were stiff against my thigh, did I realize how much he really wanted me. “Not just down there too,” he began, voice dropping a few notches, “You make me feel restless here, and here, and this part, and mmmm...just about everywhere.” The sexually insatiable freak said all these while guiding my hands to outline his form. We all know what happens next when skin contacts skin.

The ‘during sex’ category was more violent and nasty to the ears: “Damnyoupieceofshitoofwhatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoingughstopityounastybastardstopitugggh...” Followed by “No, don’t stop or I’ll kill you.” and sounds that scared the neighbors and the stray cats that lingered on our porch. During sex is the time where you exercise your cussing skills. Or your breathing skills. Your mouth hangs open the whole time, you try to find words to explain what you’re experiencing, but only sounds of agony and pleasure come out off your mouth and they do not sound romantic or elegant at all. Very much like any other animal mating. I never knew why he was turned on when I moan during sex. I sounded like I was dying with saliva running down my chin.

Conversations were intelligent after sex. They were random, spur-of-the-moment talks, but they were better than swear words and Mmms and the shuffles of comforters. He would ask, “Why do you give in to my every demand even if you say you hate me?” I would reply, “Because I have nothing else to offer.” He would look into my eyes and say, “There many other things you can give.” And he would lean over and kiss me, and it would be quick and nice; even if the bed was drenched and held the smell of sex we would huddle close.

Then that’s the time we would talk about bills, work, the usual adult stuff. Sometimes I would cry and he would laugh at me, sometimes he would cry along with me…but he never told me to stop or gave me comforting words. He knew what the tears were. I wept because the sex was just too beautiful, so I had to be a complete wuss over it.

The usual scenario: I would pose a problem, he will try to make me calm down, we become aroused, we get laid. After a moment of temporary elevation, we talk about the problem. I ask questions, he answers them with an air of rationality. I break down into childish tears and he watches me. When he weeps, he hugs our spent bodies close together. We looked like complete idiots, mixing salty tears with the liquid pools on our bed, reduced to hiccups and sneezes...no, sex was not elegant at all. It’s either we make love again afterwards, or we sleep, our dilemmas settled. It was as simple as that. Make-up sex was shallow, but it was a solution. Our whole relationship consisted of shallow things that have deeper meanings…no matter how stupid one can be, there’s always depth in every glance, every climax.

Love was not included in our conversations before, during and after sex, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there at all.

***

Years passed by and well…our performances got better and better. Yes, even a jerk like him already mastered what he called “the bedroom skills” and had his own share of education. My guess was the laptop he stared at until the wee hours of the morning; the internet was a damn useful thing, he said. Soon I found myself waking up next to him, my head resting on chest as his arms wrapped around my waist, feeling blissful and sated and content. The radio was most likely blaring that time, playing soft ballads. I would slowly disentangle myself from his embrace and get dressed for breakfast preparations. He would groan and pull me back, telling me that it was still too early, and I would poke him cheerfully and announce a brand new morning.

Waking up with him at my side was so addicting that I found myself looking forward to sleeping time. Our limbs entangled, our hair a mess, our bodies warm…it’s no wonder we rarely sleep early.


***


I slowly opened my eyes as it tried to adjust itself from the rays of the sunlight. There was the recognizable touch of his arms protecting me, and the radio was currently playing a ballad. I raised his arms and placed it on his stomach as I got up unhurriedly; then I smiled at his sleeping form, rubbed my eyes, and looked at our alarm clock.

It was twelve o’ clock in the afternoon.

I shook him awake and demanded why he forgot to set the alarm. He groggily said that the clock was probably broken, that it was impossible to wake up so late, and that he might have forgotten to do his task because of certain unexpected events.

I threw the alarm clock at him in frustration and left him to starve. The jerk followed me ‘till the kitchen, made dumb excuses, and only stopped when I held up a fork.


Notes: Why did I post this first instead of the two extra chapters, "The Bestfriend" and "Elemental Attraction"? They're not really relevant to the plot, only what you would call "filler" chapters that define their relationship. 'The Best friend' helps a lot because we are introduced to someone else's point of view. I posted Morning first because I just love this chapter, that's why I proofread it first. I made A LOT of changes and additions, (that's for YOU, caiphas and so far I'm pretty impressed with my work. (You might wonder where the cat came from. They got him in "Elemental Attraction". I'm really sorry for the lack of flow.)

Lots of love to nekoism and star_flare. XD Why? Because I just love you, is all.

The order so far: Elements - Water, Air, Fire, Earth.