Ghost Monk

After having been talked into ‘the long way home’ by a suddenly adventuresome, and thereby annoying, lover, Eiri had put his foot down after the fourth hour. Despite protests of ‘just one more ___’, the now-grumpy (though nothing new there) novelist drove them home at record speeds. Meaning, of course, that the needle was pointing to a spot on the speedometer where the car manufacturers had neglected to add numbers. Which had the added bonus of freaking out Shuichi, not to mention Kitazawa, causing no end to their panic.
Kitazawa tried to recall any and all stories that he could think of regarding cases of what might happen if a host died while being possessed. Would he be trapped forever with the uber-genki brat!? Or merge somehow, where they’d lose both singular identities? With Shuichi that panicked, there was no possibility that he could take control of the boy and demand that Eiri slow down. Something else warned him that it might be dangerous to try.
As they hit Tokyo proper and traffic began to build, Eiri was forced to slow down marginally, still going about seventy in a forty-five speed zone, expertly weaving through the sedately moving vehicles. Even if a cop gave him a ticket, it would go to Seguchi anyway and he would deal with it then.
Finally, they reached home. Eiri shut the engine off and got out as Shuichi practically oozed from his side onto the paved driveway, clearly hugging soiled land that only moved during earthquakes. Heading up the walk to the front door, the novelist paused to glance over his shoulder at Shuichi, rolling his eyes. It seemed that the drama-queen mode was back in full force again. “What the hell are you doing, brat?”
“All but kissing the ground! And no, it’s not the part you walk on!” Shuichi retorted, smiling up at his lover when the blonde snorted derisively. “Something inside just HAD to do it after that nasty car ride.”
“Wouldn’t happen to be your Stupidity Meter needing to fill its daily quota, would it? I don’t HAVE to drive you, you know.” Eiri asked, turning the lock in the door. If Shuichi wasn’t behind him in two seconds, it wouldn’t be HIS fault the brat was locked out, now would it?
“Hah hah. Very funny.” Shuichi growled playfully as he followed Eiri into the house before his lover got the idea to lock him out. Which he’d probably already had. “You should put some of these witty comments into one of your novels.” He went to the fridge, peering inside and frowning. Tohma had taken everything he’d brought for the ‘romantic party’. But, he managed to find a piece of cake he’d hidden earlier that day. Since it was only two days old, and the fridge hadn’t been opened more than twice for a few seconds each, it was still perfectly good. “I’m sure they’d be best-sellers as women from all over flock to read ‘Words from the REAL Yuki Eiri’.”
Eiri turned to stare at Shuichi, frowning now over the fact that, the longer they were together, the more like HIM Shuichi was beginning to sound. There was a thin line between ‘maturity’ and ‘sarcastic bastard’, one in which he hadn’t wanted the singer to become. It was one thing to be in fighting form to hold his own against Mika, it was quite another for Shuichi to turn said behavior onto HIM! Not just because then there’d be two of them living in the same household, which would be a dangerous and volatile combination, either. But because he never wanted Shuichi to lose that intense spark, the love of life and most things in it that kept him smiling.
Well shit, THAT annoyed him no end to admit, and was enough to make him use a threat he hadn’t needed in awhile, “Don’t make me break up with you just so you stop turning into me!” Then his eyes fell to Shuichi’s hands, where the cake was being breathed upon in order to soften it.
Shuichi’s lips were curved at the corners, indicating he’d heard Eiri’s threat, but his eyes were heavy-lidded as his lips parted so that he could softly exhale upon the cake. He’d heard such threats before, and they no longer bothered him.
Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Eiri completely forgot about the idea of locking himself into his study and working for hours. Gold eyes warming to honey, as other parts of him warmed up, all he could think about was the double-vision of strawberry goodness before him. Taking a few steps towards Shuichi, he all but growled, “Better be sharing that…”
Shuichi had learned, albeit late and painfully, that the best way to deal with such threats was to make Eiri regret, or forget, saying it, rather than crying and pleading pathetically. That method had never failed to do more than piss Eiri off and send him firmly into his stubborn bastard mode. His gaze slid sidelong towards his blonde mate in that sex-kitten glance which caused Eiri’s groin to tighten painfully. In a silken purr he knew was thoroughly effective, he asked, “What was that about breaking up with me?” Bringing the cake closer to his face, violet eyes still locked onto gold, the tip of his tongue slowly licked a trail of frosting from it and retreated into his mouth.
By all the Kamis, that’s fucking hot! If Shuichi ever did that on stage, Eiri was sure that all of the screaming fan girls would wet themselves then and there. “I forget.” Nearly growling under his breath, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his impish kitten, claiming the sugar-coated lips.
Immediately melting into the kiss, Shuichi put the cake down on the counter before he dropped it. They’d get to it soon enough.

Inside Shuichi’s head, Kitazawa was thoroughly impressed with how well Shuichi had learned to manage Eiri and his pendulum mood-swings. He was also taking thorough notes for when he’d need to do such things as naturally as Shuichi himself did. It wouldn’t do to jump in blind, they’d catch on immediately to his presence. Which led to another thing. Why hadn’t Eiri thought to look for him when he knew that out of Uesugi Shrine, they were fair game?
Peeking out and seeing the ceiling etched with the outline of golden bangs through half-lidded eyes, as well as hearing soft noises and giggles, he had a definite idea as to how distracted his little ex-pupil really was at the moment. Now, if only there was such a thing as spectral popcorn, it would’ve been a perfect experience. He just hoped they remembered to bleach the table afterwards and that it was strong enough to support their weight.
Riding shotgun, especially in pleasure, was more than an interesting experience and a great way to begin tampering with the body. Since Shuichi was so distracted, it was quite easy to tweak a thing here and a little more there to get his ‘home’ just how he liked it. The nervous system first. The ex-tutor rocked back as he was nearly drowned by the deluge of energy and wanton need coursing through the young man’s body, causing him to quiver himself.
Damn, that felt good. How the hell can Shuichi FEEL that much on a regular basis and not explode?! He’d never get anything done that way. Dampening his access to Shuichi’s pulsing rhythm, Kitazawa sat back and enjoyed everything that Eiri did to his little lover. He had to admit, all the practice that his ex-student had done had certainly paid off.

Shuichi cried out again as he felt Eiri enter him, arching up from the table to meet his lover halfway, begging to be taken. One hand gripped the edge while the other had reached down to trail lazy fingers down the finely sculpted chest.
Eiri grunted as Shuichi found a particularly sensitive spot, shifting his weight as he stood almost against the table. His own hands splayed across Shuichi's hips, holding him in place, the golden gaze raked over the prone boy before him. Boy, though, wasn't quite accurate anymore. Still thoroughly feminine in appearance, Shuichi had filled out some in the past two years. The novelist would never call him anything more than girly, but at least he wasn't waif-thin anymore.
Darkly pink hair spread out across the table's surface, nearly matching the color of its owner's cheeks, rosy from lust. His chest rose and fell as he panted, the mewling sounds making Eiri's blood even hotter, until he wanted his kitten crying out loud enough to wake the annoying neighbors next door. Damn people needed to get the pikes out of their asses anyway, the way they went on and on about religion and marriage. It was like fucking living back home. Slowly, he withdrew, only to bury himself once again in the warm pleasurable heat that his lover willingly offered.
Shuichi squirmed deliciously, shivering from the familiar ache and fullness of Eiri pushing himself farther into his body. Wrapping his legs around his lover’s hips, he forced an even closer contact, his heart singing when he heard Eiri’s responding hiss. A soft giggle evolved into a moan as the next hard thrust echoed his motion.
Pausing to force himself to hold still, Eiri bent from the waist, causing his erection to encourage pressure on Shuichi’s prostate, which made the younger man gasp and emit a keening noise that caused his ears to ache. He really had to talk to his pest about that note, if it were slightly louder, he was sure that glass would shatter. His movements had the desired effect, as his tongue trailed along the weeping slit of Shuichi’s member. A moment later, he wrapped his lips around the head, bit by bit taking him into his mouth, undulating his tongue as he went.
“Omygod! Yu… Yu…” Shuichi began, the white rose of pleasure blooming through his body from the contact. Within, if Kitazawa had had a penis himself, it would’ve caused him to come then and there. GOD! Eiri had gotten MUCH better! And they were still going!
The amber eyes shifted closer to clear gold as Eiri slowly released his hold on the shivering mass of jell-o beneath him. Something deep within snapped at hearing his pen name still sounding from Shuichi’s lips. They’d been lovers for two damn years, and he was still calling him by that damned name, a fake LAST name, even while they were having sex. Enough was enough. “Say it right or I stop. I’ve been putting up with the shit of you calling me that for two years already. Enough!”
Violet eyes snapped open, locking onto the angry ones above him. He HAD been calling him that all this time, but why would Eiri pick NOW to be all bitchy about it? Then again, he’d been acting weird about his name even at the Shrine, making him correct his greeting. It had something to do with Kitazawa, but it wasn’t the same, not like last time when Shuichi had been fighting the dead man for his lover’s affections. He knew from experience that Eiri was more than capable of stopping and leaving him high and dry to get himself off and he didn’t want that to happen, especially with Eiri acting so weird. So he played the submissive card to the hilt. “I’m.. I’m sorry E… Eiri. You’re right, it’s rude of me to…” Distracted by the throbbing Eiri was forcing into his body by nudging just slightly, he could only manage to stammer, “to call you … by .. by your last… AH!”
Having heard enough, Eiri had leaned down and resumed his attentions to Shuichi’s aching member. Tongue wandering a lazy trail, he gently licked every inch of the soft flesh, his chin rubbing up against the shifting sac beneath. While doing that, he’d figured out a way to continue nudging his hips in a very slow rhythm, more to save his back than anything, but it had the added bonus of shattering what was left of his pop star’s sanity.
Hands curving into claws, Shuichi’s fingers weaved their way through the silky blond strands as he arched against his lover one last time, exploding into the waiting mouth with a soft cry. “Eiri!”
Grunting, Eiri swallowed Shuichi’s offering without much effort and released him immediately afterwards, thrusting into him a few more times. Feeling his own cock twitching, he thrust a final time against Shuichi’s prostate, causing the singer to cry out and climax once more, as he felt his own seed flood into his body for the second time that day. Tatsuha had been right, Shuichi’s endurance had increased with him as his lover. But then, it was either get used to it and put out more, or be abandoned for a string of one-nighters. There wasn’t much of an option there. Knowing that it would be uncomfortable in a moment to remain on the table, he pulled out and grabbed some paper towels, holding a few out to Shuichi as the younger man slid from the surface.
“Thanks.” Smiling crookedly, Shuichi took the towels and made quick use of them and then glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter, giggling like mad. “Guess we forgot about the cake, huh, Y…er… Eiri?” He would play Eiri’s game for now, until he was forced to stop calling him that name again. Kitazawa thought it was quite convenient, since he was used to calling the boy ‘Eiri’ anyway. It would make his ruse so much easier without having to call him by his own name.
Pulling his shirt off so that he could have a shower, Eiri glanced at the cake and snatched it up on his way towards the bedrooms. Shuichi glared at him, tossing the towels into the waste basket. “HEY! What happened to sharing!?”
Chuckling through his nose, Eiri scooped off the tip of the cake, granted it was a decent size considering, and held it out for Shuichi. “Here.”
Glaring at his bitchy selfish lover, Shuichi opened his mouth and took the offering, knowing it was ‘take it or leave it’ and he was going to lose out on the rest anyway. “Bastard.” he muttered as he chewed.
Flashing one of those sexy little smirks, Eiri left a quivery Shuichi in his wake, heading towards the bathrooms and tossing over his shoulder, “Keep the noise down punk, I have to work.”
Rolling his eyes, Shuichi let Eiri leave, knowing it was better, and safer, that way. Bitching the entire time, he used the time he waited for his turn in the shower neatening up and bleaching the table. Honestly, why he even bothered trying to hang around the week before a deadline, he must be out of his mind.