Chapter Text
Gero Hikaru is pretty sure he’s dying. He’s been sure he’s dying many times throughout his relatively short career, but now more than ever before.
Kinosaki is in Gero’s apartment, his home, his private domicile, even. The little “date night in” his friend planned for them immediately got off on the wrong foot because apparently date night isn’t the time for a house tour, no matter how impressive one’s abode is. It got a little bit better when Kinosaki tried to feed him, because that was a test Gero could actually pass, but then right afterward, when Gero was naively hoping the worst of it was over, Kinosaki emerged from the bathroom like this.
Gero looks him up and down: Kinosaki is dressed in Gero’s hoodie, which is far too large for him and makes him look even smaller than usual, not to mention that his soft, dainty hands are nearly swallowed by the sleeves and the hem has fallen entirely over his shorts… assuming he’s wearing any. The fact that Gero can’t see leaves him free to imagine those long, smooth legs—any woman’s envy—disappearing into his own hoodie without any additional barrier between it and Kinosaki’s pale skin, besides maybe some lace panties.
…Assuming Gero would want to imagine that, which he doesn’t. But Kinosaki’s golden blond hair is all glossy from being washed—he’s been growing it out—and he meets Gero’s (probably very stupid) stare with his usual coy grin, eyes half-lidded and teasing and framed by those long, dark lashes. He’s saying something. Fuck.
“...hope it’s all right that I borrowed your clothes!” Kinosaki’s voice fades back into focus with its usual lilt as he finishes combing his beautiful hair.
“Ngh…?” Gero feels a droplet of sweat bead on his face. “O-oh, okay…”
Then, without warning, Kinosaki sidles on over to the armchair Gero sits in, turns about face, and pulls himself up onto it between Gero’s legs—one hand on either of Gero’s thighs. Kinosaki’s perfect legs threaten to brush up against Gero’s and his feet dangle just above the floor.
Gero is pretty sure he’s already dead and in hell. Or not. But he’s definitely dead.
“Hup!” Kinosaki leans back against Gero’s chest, now wearing the other of his two main expressions—a broad grin with vacant, sort of stupid eyes. Gero probably looks pretty stupid, too, in fairness. He can’t even fight back as Kinosaki wrests the TV remote from him. “Ooh, let’s watch something scary!”
Gero thinks he might be having a seizure, which doesn’t make sense, considering that he’s already dead. He glances down at the soft, petite man who’s sitting between his legs and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl. If Kinosaki scooches the tiniest bit backward, his- his backside will be right up against-
No! Gero can’t think like that, no matter how warm Kinosaki feels even through the layers of fabric both of them wear (and even though they’re not as close as lovers should be). All Gero has to do is focus up. It’s another battle. The only difference is that rather than fighting an array of bicycle enthusiasts or whatever, he’s fighting himself. What part of himself, though—the part that wants Kinosaki in his lap, or the part that doesn’t?
The latter, Gero decides, because it’s significantly weaker and wait, wait, no… this is- Gero doesn’t enjoy this, because he’s not gay and Kinosaki is despite all appearances and mannerisms a man and therefore it would be gay to like him and Gero isn’t gay. He’ll weather the storm, of course, because that’s what it means to be a master, etcetera etcetera. Kinosaki, having finally settled on a movie, lets it start playing and tilts his head upward to meet Gero’s eyes. God, Kinosaki is short—tiny, even. He’s finagled a bag of chips from somewhere, somehow, and already has one between his soft pink lips as he gives Gero a questioning look, like he knows Gero is being unfair.
Of course Gero likes Kinosaki. Everyone likes Kinosaki. It’d be mean to think otherwise after everything his friend has done for him—after everything he’s done for Kinosaki, too: putting him in constant danger, torturing and nearly killing him during their first meeting, asking for his hand in marriage under duress… and Kinosaki has taken it all in stride. It’s just that Gero isn’t gay. He’s a big fan of women, in fact, almost as much as Akari is. And maybe Kinosaki isn’t even gay!
“Just relax,” Kinosaki whispers, voice soft and gentle now rather than teasing.
“I’m so relaxed,” Gero lies through his teeth.
Maybe this is Kinosaki’s revenge, because being tortured with everything the Poison Clan has must be easier than the next thirty minutes. Kinosaki ends up intensely focused on the movie, sweating a little—Gero notices a thin sheen across his soft, smooth skin—and so too is Gero, just… not for the same reasons.
(If neither of them are gay, how did they end up in such an absurdly homoerotic situation? It would’ve been less gay if Kinosaki had suggested they practice kissing and Gero enthusiastically agreed. Kinosaki would be good for it, too, of course, with those-)
Just as there’s a cheesy jumpscare on screen, there’s also a crash just outside the living room door, muffled only slightly by the wall. Kinosaki cries out and instinctively throws himself into Gero, squeezing him about the midsection with more strength than that body should be capable of. Gero finds he’s (equally instinctively) wrapped an arm around him, at once keeping it between him and the door and using it to pull him closer.
“W… what was that?” Kinosaki whimpers into Gero’s chest. He’s quivering. Poor thing—can’t he catch a break? Nothing’s even happened yet and Gero already finds himself indignant on his friend’s behalf. “It came from behind that door… is someone there…?”
Gero gently dislodges Kinosaki from himself and stands to investigate, but Kinosaki stands, too, and follows him to the door, all the while clinging to him from behind.
Inhale, exhale, and Gero pushes the door open. It creaks—beyond it, the plant is lying overturned, dirt strewn across the floorboards.
“Oh… it was just the plant.” Kinosaki sighs in relief.
“The plant isn’t the problem…” Gero growls, only just now registering that Kinosaki is clinging to him, small hands bundled up in the back of his shirt. Kinosaki shudders, eyes widening, and Gero continues, “You’re way too close to me!”
“I’m a perfectly normal amount of close!” Kinosaki giggles now that he’s realized there’s no actual problem and holds Gero even tighter, pressing his front to Gero’s back.
How on earth is Gero even supposed to reply to that? He doesn’t, and instead returns to the living room with his new tail. This is all so hard… dating, obviously, but even just being friends with Kinosaki. It was never this way with the Bug and Needle Masters, though, and they’re also his friends, so what’s the difference between them and Kinosaki? Gero considers it as he stops before his armchair, peeling Kinosaki away from his back with one hand on Kinosaki’s arm. Once he has Kinosaki in front of him, Gero lifts his arm over Kinosaki’s head in the same motion so his arm is against Kinosaki’s back rather than front… and suddenly Gero has pulled Kinosaki into his lap.
Gero is squeezing Kinosaki’s slim waist with both arms, pulling him tight against-
Their hips are together. Kinosaki is actually in his lap now- fuck. Why- what the hell- Kinosaki has gone completely rigid and so has Gero, of course-
Okay, all Gero has to do is play this cool, and maybe Kinosaki won’t kill him in his sleep tonight, assuming he doesn’t storm out right now. Maybe he’ll even think Gero did this on purpose, assuming Gero is uncharacteristically lucky.
Play it cool, Gero thinks again, and rests his chin on Kinosaki’s head as he turns his eyes back to that stupid movie. Soft blond hair tickles his jaw. Just so long as Kinosaki isn’t uncomfortable… he’s such a touchy person, surely he won’t mind this, right? Hopefully not. Gero wants to impress him so, so badly, but if he gets a single hint that Kinosaki doesn’t like this, he’ll have to curl up in the corner to die at once.
Kinosaki breathes out slowly. Fuck. Gero should- if he’s misinterpreting this, he’ll look like an idiot for apologizing, but if he’s not, he can at least put a band-aid on a bullet wound and hope- Kinosaki leans back into Gero’s arms and laces their right hands together, suddenly coming undone like a ribbon.
“Now you’re getting it.” Kinosaki’s voice is soft and breathy as he tilts his head back into the crook of Gero’s neck.
Gero thinks he’s died at least thrice now, perhaps four or five times. His face must be burning up. Kinosaki is so soft and warm and small in his arms, nestled into his lap like it was made for him, and suddenly it hits Gero how tiny his friend’s waist is—he could easily encircle it with both hands. Kinosaki’s hands, for that matter, are as soft and warm and small as the rest of him. One of Gero’s could probably enclose both of Kinosaki’s.
“I have a good teacher,” Gero whispers, and squeezes Kinosaki’s right hand. Tentatively, he adds, “the best.”
“You’ve had others? I can’t believe you’d cheat on me,” Kinosaki teases.
“I’d never need others, nor want them.” Gero wonders if he’s still watching the movie—Gero certainly isn’t. His eyes wander down Kinosaki’s soft, thick thighs—squished together in the valley between Gero’s legs, making them even more appetizing than usual—and back up, over his broad hips that even Gero’s oversized sweater can’t disguise. If Kinosaki were a girl, he’d have such an easy time bearing children. Gero would make sure he’d have a lot. Or Kinosaki’s husband would. Or- but he wasn’t a girl- and only if Kinosaki liked being pumped full and bred and made to-
Gero tries to take a deep breath, but all he can smell is Kinosaki’s sweet-scented hair. What the hell’s wrong with him? Thinking like this just because he has the world’s most beautiful woman in man form curled up in his lap, soft ass pressed up against his crotch with two or at most three proper layers of fabric separating his cock from Kinosaki’s hole?
If Gero asks if Kinosaki is wearing anything under that hoodie he’ll look like an even bigger freak than he already does, but he really has to know, and he doesn’t want to just lift the hem—even if it’s his hoodie (his property)—or feel up what’s beneath it or, rather, he does, but he doesn’t want to hurt Kinosaki. They’re friends. He loves Kinosaki. In a heterosexual way. And he’d love him in an even more heterosexual way if he were a girl. He’s just confused because Kinosaki already looks like such a girl with his delicate features, hourglass figure, big, soft, bright eyes, dazzling smile, and-
This is mortifying, she’s a- he’s a man and Gero is a man and needs to put a lid on this. But how, when Kinosaki is right here in his arms, breathing so softly, smelling so sweet?
Gero is pretty sure he wants to die. There’s a stirring in his loins even he can’t deny. Why would he—it’s just because Kinosaki is so effete and beautiful and pretty and soft and cute and sexy and fuckable and not because Gero is gay-
Whatever, that’s not important right now. Gero tries to squeeze his legs together to strangle that feeling in his cock—which stirs atop his left thigh—but Kinosaki’s long, perfect legs are in the way. Gero’s half-hard dick twitches in his pants at the little questioning whine Kinosaki makes at the feeling of his thighs being squeezed between Gero’s.
“What’s up, Gero?” Kinosaki asks. She sounds sleepy—of course she’s- he’s tired. Gero can’t spring… this… on him. Maybe… he tries to picture a slideshow of all the ugliest people he knows, but somehow in creeps the image of Kinosaki with his hoodie hiked up around his waist, waiting demurely on his elbows and knees, legs spread so Gero can see the-
Fuck. If Gero tries to stand or move an inch, Kinosaki will definitely feel the cock already threatening to press against his ass. Maybe Gero can just ask Kinosaki to stand? The sight of Kinosaki from behind, though, even in that baggy sweater…
The image of Kinosaki on the floor flashes into Gero’s mind again. Lurid-and-unethical-fantasy!Kinosaki’s legs are spread so Gero can see the modest, weeping cock—flushed to the tip—and balls hanging between them. Equally involuntarily, Gero finds he’s drooling again.
Gero’s mind races. How- what is anyone supposed to do in this situation? He wasn’t trained in surreptitiously dislodging crossdressers from his lap.
“You’re drooling on me,” Kinosaki remarks- and tries to scooch back a little so he can rest his head against Gero’s shoulder, reach up to wipe his “friend’s” mouth, etcetera etcetera, but insodoing he grinds his perfect bubble butt against Gero’s crotch.
Gero’s cock quivers in his pants. There’s probably already a wet spot on them and he bites his tongue but can’t stifle the groan that comes out—and he tries to restrain himself, really, but his arms tighten around Kinosaki’s waist and he dips his head into the crook of Kinosaki’s neck and whimpers in shame and barely resists the urge to lick a long, thin line up his “friend’s” throat.
“Sorry- I’m so, so sorry-” Gero releases Kinosaki and tries to slither out from under him, but he catches Gero by the collar.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Kinosaki tilts his head to look up at Gero and simultaneously shifts in his lap, dragging over Gero’s cock and making his vision go white—Gero’s mouth falls open and he feels like if he doesn’t fuck this- this stupid, beautiful, kind-hearted slut until his stomach is bloated with Gero’s cum, he might die for real this time. When the stars fade from Gero’s vision, he repeats the thought, because Kinosaki’s eyes are half-lidded, face flushed, soft lips parted, and Gero’s cock is now sandwiched in the clothed valley between Kinosaki’s ass cheeks.
“K-K-” Gero finds he can’t speak through all the saliva gathered in his mouth. He takes a deep breath, inhales nothing but the scent of arousal and Kinosaki’s perfume, and tries again. “K-Kinosaki?”
“Gero… have you ever…” Kinosaki’s voice is… husky. He sounds almost like a man. Why is Gero into that?
“No.” Gero swallows.
“Figures. Do you want… ah… practice?”
Gero finds himself nodding furiously before he can do anything to stop it, assuming he’d want to. He does need practice, after all.
“Of course you do.” Kinosaki smirks, infuriatingly smug, and pinches Gero’s cheek.