smash_logs | Dorm Log: Scorching Summer Edition

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Kiyotaka, by nature, was not at all a sexual being. Show the average teenage boy a pin-up of some girl in nothing but lingerie and they'd probably be interested in picturing the body barely hidden beneath it. Show it to him and he would be more concerned with going off on a spiel about how such things were inappropriate to have on school grounds and it was being reported immediately.

That wasn't to say he hadn't been turned on before. While he never really functioned on the same emotional level as the average person, his body was young and healthy and operated just as any other human being would. Most of the time it wasn't a problem - more often than not it was just the occasional morning wood, but no matter what time of day it was it took nothing more than ignoring it in lieu of his work for it to slowly die down, and that was the end of that. A hard-working honor student like him didn't have time for such indecent pleasures, and frankly, he wasn't a fan of the mess it left the few times he had tended to it just so he could leave his room according to schedule.

As troubling as the night had been, at least he'd been able to keep his primal urges at bay through determination alone, and after a cold shower he went to bed without incident.

Until he looked at the clock and 10:06 stared back at him in bold red.

Past curfew and no sign of Mondo. It figured... Even though he knew it was ultimately futile, he mentally prepared a lecture so he could give the biker an earful the minute he walked in the door. Or in the morning, if he fell asleep before then. Which might be better off, really. The night's revelations were still too fresh in his mind, and he probably wouldn't be able to look in Mondo's direction without his stomach tying itself into knots in worry over the implications of what he thought he remembered.

Thinking about it again quickly proved itself to be unwise. Kiyotaka grit his teeth in frustration as he felt his briefs tighten for the second time in the past hour, and he resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably sleep a lot easier if he just got it all out of his system and was done with it.

So he rolled over and did just that: one hand moving beneath the sheets, his gaze fixed firmly on the wall, mentally scolding himself for this lack of willpower. He tried to recall the song that had started all of this, but with the radio off he couldn't hope to even do so much as try to hum the chorus accurately, so only his ragged breathing broke the silence of the empty room. Gradually it grew in volume, a quick little gasp thrown in here and there, until finally he finished with a low groan.

He took about half a minute to compose himself and calm his breathing before he dragged himself out of bed to wash up, because there was no way he was just going to go to sleep without doing that first. Ugh. Well, hopefully that was the end of all that.

Mondo found himself pressing his back to the wall cautiously to avoid making his presence known, soaking up the sounds of his ridiculously prudish roommate restraining gasp after moan behind the structure he leaned against, sounds that went contrary to his reputation as a morally rigid stick-in-the-mud. If only someone would tell him how utterly engrossed he looked, eyes wide and glazed over like he had discovered sex for the first time. Was it stranger that there was no moment of natural doubt in what was going on in there? Were the unfamiliar noises you wouldn't expect out if Kiyotaka actually familiar after all?

Fuck.

This really bothered and upset him because he wasn't into that kind of stuff with other men and his bond with Kiyotaka wasn't like that. But he knew he had memories he couldn't access except by accident, and that was scary. What counted more was the certainty he had now, the fact that he knew better and could easily tell himself that there was no way this could happen, that he wasn't thinking about him that way and most definitely wasn't baffled in the slightest about this revelation. It was just an awkward moment he had been misinterpreting this entire time and it was by sheer coincidence alone that he returned to his room to find Kiyotaka taking care of business, which hey, was totally normal and healthy and he really shouldn't be getting so analytical, even if it was Kiyotaka.

The swelling content of his own pants woke him to the realization that it sure was Kiyotaka, all right. The thorniness of this situation just got untamably prickly for him. He panicked about the implications of each signal that sparked his body, like each time his voice rose in the silence it managed to stroke against his entire being, but not firmly enough to quell his growing anticipation. He was being tickled, teased, downright toyed with and there was nothing he could do about it. In some of these faltering moments, he second-guessed his preferences, mentally thumbed through instances spent with other guys and tried so hard to recall moments that could be construed as attraction and found way too many subtleties for his liking, so he resurfaced from those deep, dark waters and came back to an especially robust cry of pleasure.

How could anyone deny the jolt that shot through him after hearing that? For a short while, he let go of his immediate conscience and sunk down again without grasping onto any of his fears, mesmerized and succumbing to the ghostly sensations coursing through every inch of him.

This was getting stupid and dangerous and he was going to leave again so he could take a shower and forget all of this entirely, stuff it deep down into the overflowing trash bin of his often-neglected subconscious and go the fuck to sleep so he could wake up the next morning and pretend this weird night never existed at all. Then he could resume his life the way it was an hour or so ago. Everything came straight out of left field. How did this happen? What did this even mean for him? These kinds of thoughts would plague him until he fell asleep.

Edited (I SURE SHOWED YOU) 2013-06-20 17:32 (UTC)

Dorm Log: Scorching Summer Edition

I can't believe this is a tag I am writing what have we done

We're shooting down the wrong lane at lightning speed

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