poly_chromatic | ☀ VIDEO [ a series of douchebag events ]

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☀ VIDEO [ a series of douchebag events ]

( the feed from kazu’s device clicks on to show the darkness of a dingy little apartment, or to be more exact, what kazu has claimed as his room, the moonlight pouring into the window serving as the only source of light for the room. it also features the side of ikki’s hand and his wrist, out of focus and much too close from clicking on kazu’s device.

he smiles into the camera, all glinting teeth, before he walks towards kazu’s bed. there’s a soft click as ikki flips off the cap of a marker, smelling the tip of it before applying it to kazu’s face. he writes various insults across his face, each one more hateful than the last.

the feed cuts out.

it clicks back on and ikki is beside is kazu’s bed, pants down and his butt pressed against the side of kazu’s face.

the feed cuts back again immediately afterwards.

finally, it cuts back on and it’s closer this time. it gives a very clear shot of ikki leaning over the side of kazu’s bed, pants now back up. his face is incredibly close to kazu’s, fingers prying his mouth open. he opens his own mouth then, letting two slugs drop out of his mouth and into kazu’s. )

Yesss! ( he laughs!

it's fifteen seconds, if you're counting—from the moment the camera films the slugs dropping in to Kazu's eyes snapping open. about the time it'd take for one to spill out and wriggle into an ear. but there's no trace of that by the time Kazu lifts one hand, ghosts fingertips across his face, silent and perfectly blank. he sits up.

only five seconds, on the other hand, from vertically to punching Ikki in the face. )

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Okay, okay.

( that's the right direction then. so he tries it again, placing a soft kiss to the line of kazu's jaw. then another and another as he starts making his way downwards towards where his neck met shoulder. he puts an open-mouthed kiss there at the junction, moving to suck on the skin.

he really has no idea what's he's doing.

but the hands down his back are really kind of an esteem-boost and maybe draw something like a shudder out of him. yeah, okay, this is really good. really good, and thinks maybe he can take it just a bit further.

so he brings a hand up to the collar of kazu's shirt, pulling it down to give him more access to skin. )

Nn—

( actually, this wasn't what he meant. this is the opposite—he's pretty sure 'c'mon' was supposed to translate as 'slow down' or 'give me my thoughts back, you thought-stealing alien', but sentences are getting really goddamn hard to parse.

come to that, he's not even sure what 'parse' means.

he groans a little—and more skin's sounding pretty fantastic at the moment. exploring rucks up the hem of Ikki's shirt, and he slides hands underneath it, running them up carefully. there's no way more contact can go wrong, right? this is totally the road to slowing down. )

( even with a slug-infested brain, this is still ikki. things like "slow down", "give up", and sometimes "stop" are impossible to understand. the only thing he's able to understand is the way that kazu's body reacts, and he's pretty sure that it's telling him to keep going.

he shifts, knee pressing more firmly against kazu as he tries to lean into his hands in an encouraging manner. it doesn't matter to him what's happening, as long as it's something. kazu can do what he wants.

it's a little hard to breathe properly, he's still gasping for air, not aided even slightly by the warm hands on him. in fact, it's making things worse. a lot worse. there was even a noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan. why was it like this?

the seams of kazu's collar are starting to tear, being jerked down his shoulder as ikki explores the available area of skin with his mouth and a bit of tongue and teeth.

( the scrape of teeth drags a huff out of him. tongue is good, noise is good, and pressure right there is really good. Kazu moves against it, against Ikki, hips jerking and, yeah, he's gasping a little. he's all shuddering breaths, muttered encouragement and curses—because anything louder requires air that, he's getting pretty damn sure, doesn't even exist. the thought that this isn't Ikki, can't be, keeps surfacing—but that ragged groan sounds a hell of a lot like him, and any idea more complex than that is getting its signals jammed. one moment of insanity at a time. )

God—nnn, fuck.

( his fingertips skim from spine to hip, nails dragging, circling to the front. then his hands slide up again, passing over stomach and chest, pressing through the sliver of space between them. there's a lot of touch happening here, uneven and quick, exploring for whatever has effect. his head's still pounding from earlier, the ache more pronounced now rather than less. underneath all the colliding sensations, Ikki feels like the only real presence in the world. )

Kazu—

( all at once, everything seems like too much. his fingers are hot against his skin, searing as they scatter over his back and chest. it's too easy to press into the touch, especially when they're on his back. it's what draws the most reaction from him, quiet gasps and low groans because there's something about his rough fingers that excite him, something that promises him more to come.

that's what he wants, even though it doesn't seem right. he knows it doesn't because he can hear ikki screaming inside of him, outraged and furious, but it's easy to drown out. easy to block out in place of leaving little marks along kazu's neck, skin blooming purple underneath his mouth, shirt tearing at the seams as he continues to jerk it further down. he couldn't care less about some shitty shirt, not when he's hard against kazu's hip and rubbing against him out of lack of any sort of self-restraint. )

I don't—

( he starts, words dying in his throat, but he wants to say "I don't know what I'm doing". well, it's probably clear enough? but maybe not? it's hard to think, what with the hands and the nails. but it's not really enough. there is something else he wants but he's not sure what it is, so instead, he defaults back to kissing him, fingers sliding into his hair to pull on the blonde locks. )

( his teeth catch at Ikki's lip before he opens his mouth into the kiss, slick and hot and lingering. it's a little more desperate this time, just because whatever they're getting to, it's pretty clear that he needs a lot more of it. they've struck some boiling point where everything stirs a reaction: the sound of his name breathed just so, unsteady and cut-off, Ikki's pulls tugging at his hair. he can't seem to stop himself from making noise right back, moans and stuttering breaths. need is drowning-deep—hell, he's not sure he isn't drowning in it already, too aware of Ikki pressing down on him, weight and warmth and all of it pretty much overwhelming.

he wants to arch up, needs the friction of weight and movement—and if this is going too fast, all the little flickers of how bad an idea this is are getting ironed out by sheer heat. instead, Kazu's hands skim aross his back, helpless and insanely in want of something and god, the amount that he has no idea of what should come next is staggering.

still flat on his back, he presses a knee in between Ikki's legs. not a whole lot to ease, but pressure's better than nothing. his mouth's pretty busy anyway. )

( the difference between this kiss and the first is tremendous, it's almost staggering. the first time was rough and sloppily, guided under the idea that he was the most talented a person could ever be at kissing. it took the second kiss for him to dispel his own illusions, a cold reminder that he had basically no experience and barely any idea as to what he was doing. the third was easier, much easier, but this time, it comes naturally to him, actions guided by nothing but pure and rather violate desire for the person he's got trapped between him and the floor. he's sure he's got the hang of this.

it's better, much better, much easier, and it's nearly perfect. nearly, nearly, nearly. kazu moves against him in rhythm, eager and smooth. he doesn't bother to stop himself from groaning against his mouth, burning from the inside from his fingers and tongue, hand finally pulling away from the ripped collar of kazu's shirt to slide underneath the fabric. he mimics kazu from earlier, fingers searching for any sensitive spot to focus on. they trace their way over his chest, following the hard lines of the muscles he's gained from riding.

y-yeah and maybe he's definitely using kazu's knee as a spot to rub against, desperate for something more than this, some friction, some sort of touch.

kazu had feel the same way, so what happens now? he's not sure, but there's only one way to find out. he breaks away from kazu after he's sure he's going to die from asphyxiation, greedily gasping for air as he strokes his fingers against kazu's scalp. he keeps the rest of his body still, hand resting over where kazu's heart was, trying not to get caught back up in the moment. )

Kazu. C'mon. What ( . . . ) now?

( he had to know, right? )

( it takes him several seconds to register even the words, recognise that there was a question at all—understand that voice can be anything but cue and signal. there's too much contact, still, every nerve feels frayed, almost painfully alive to sensation.

but the question's tugging up others, a host of thoughts, and the headache and buzz of thinking both surge back in the absence of distraction. it's just a problem trying to process them all; he can't think with Ikki this close. Kazu blinks hazily. in the quiet, he braces himself up on his elbows, trying to sit up and catch his breath all at once. )

... Get off of me for a sec.

( honestly, he didn't have the capacity to be anything other than completely pliant at the moment. he's not sure what to expect or even what's going to happen next, so he's more than willing to let kazu pull the reigns for just a moment or two. better that than completely embarrassing himself. )

Nggh, yeah. Okay.

( despite being completely reluctant to move from where he had rooted himself, he slowly pries himself off of kazu. it's a gradual process, moving off of the other and onto a sitting position on the floor beside him.

just waiting for something. )

( even after he's managed to work his way up to sitting, it takes a moment or two for thoughts just to surface. everything aches, dull and encompassing too much. there's too many things wrong here in ways he can't pinpoint. it's Ikki who kissed him, teeth scraped his collarbone, fingers dragged across his skin—those and a hundred splinters of feeling still too sharp to be just memory.

so that was Ikki, or it wasn't. what difference does it make?

he should know the answer to that. if nothing else, he doesn't like that the answer doesn't come. raking a hand through his hair (god, where is his damn hat), Kazu tugs at the torn collar of his shirt—then gives up as it promptly droops open again. whatever. he moves to stand. with difficulty, thank you, because his knees aren't working so well. )

Fuck... I need a run.

Right now. Right now?

( he says the words slowly, incredulously, because he couldn't believe what he was hearing. he brings a finger up to his ear, pressing it inside in some strange manner of testing his hearing.

yup. he could hear just fine. so then, what the fuck. everything was great just a moment ago, but now kazu was ready to disappear on him. wasn't that the exact thing he was trying to avoid in the first place? he really isn't sure anymore why it was important to keep kazu here in the room with him, but whatever.

. . .

AUGH. So stupid!

he leans back on his hands, glancing up towards the ceiling and letting out a heavy breath. )

Really?

... you don't see anything weird about this at all, huh.

( not that he should've expected anything else. maybe this is a bad idea. maybe the strangeness of this is only in his head. but, having made his way to the window again, he can feel the faintest tug of desert wind—and that's idea enough to catch hold of. one whim at a time.

Kazu turns, bracing his hands along the sill. his tone's only a little dry. )

Don't worry about it. I still owe you.

( he stares at him, obviously incredibly dismayed because really. really. REALLY. all of the weirdness of the situation took a backseat to you know. . . . . everything that was just happening there. there isn't really any way to dance around it!

you can't go that far and just leave a man hanging!

he sighs, irritated, as he pulls himself to his feet. he's a little wobbly, but mostly alright. even if his legs feel a little like jello. )

There was no way it wouldn't be weird. ( matter-of-factly. )

—But yanno. ( VAGUE WEIRD HAND GESTURE. it's supposed to imply "I WASN'T DONE" but comes out more like just waving fingers. )

Your timing sucks, asshole.

Not like we don't have time.

( meanwhile, it's a mantra repeated in nearly every fiber of his body: this is the worst idea ever. ignoring it, Kazu hefts himself onto the ledge. he slides one leg over the sill, the other, then glances back briefly. )

So I'll find you later.

( and there he goes. every boy loves an exit line. )

( time for what, exactly. . .? THAT WAS SORT OF AN OPEN-ENDED LINE THERE. )

Wha—?

( he starts, but kazu is falling out of the window and he's immediately rushing to the window because HE STILL HAS SHIT TO SAY. )

You fucking owe me everything, you shitty bastard!!

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☀ VIDEO [ a series of douchebag events ]

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