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Colour Me Blood Red	By : DragonBlade Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2324 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis, characters or ideas, and I am making no money from this

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Re-formatting may take me a little while, so I apologize for any wall-o-text. I DO have 41 chapters to go through and a full-time job.

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CHAPTER 6

Momoshiro and Kaidoh showed up to Kirihara’s house around 8:30am, banging impatiently at his door.

Ryoma looked up from the couch where he was watching TV, “door.”

Kirihara poked his head out of the kitchen, glancing from the door to Ryoma. “Thank you, Captain obvious!” He rubbed the towel around his neck through his hair again. He felt more comfortable around Ryoma while he was wearing clothes, but not by much.

Ryoma shrugged, “I told Momo it would be better if we just went together, since you don’t have a car yet.”

Kirihara frowned, Ryoma had ‘ulterior motive’ written all over his face, ”yeah, whatever. I really don’t care how we get there and back,” as long as I’m not alone with you longer than necessary. There was only one thing that made a partnership awkward, and they were almost there.

Kirihara opened the door, thankful for the distraction. Ryoma was acting all too familiar with him now; hands casually brushing him when he was too close, eyes lingering on places that were far from polite. Momoshiro stomped in around him, large combat boots tracking mud into the clean entryway. Kaidoh quietly followed, stepping around the muddy footprints.

Kirihara frowned again; he knew he was going to end up with a permanent dent in his forehead. “You need to come with a warning.”

Momoshiro raised his head from where he was struggling with his boots, “what?”

“Warning: may contain harmful materials that will fuck up my nice clean floor!”

Kaidoh snorted as he attempted not to laugh, ducking his head into his shoulder. He quickly busied himself with hanging his and Momoshiro’s coats in the small closet.

Momoshiro had the decency to blush, “sorry, last nights rain turned the dirt path to my parking lot to mud.” He took his boots off and put them back outside the door. Let the mud sink into the hallway carpets, they got paid to clean.

Kirihara knew it was a strange habit for a male, but he appreciated a clean apartment just as much as the next guy. Bachelor or not. He also hated cleaning, so it if didn’t get dirty, you don’t have to clean it. Simple as that. He was just as lazy as the next guy, but Kamio’s constant bickering taught him to at least pick up his dirty clothes.

Ryoma had managed to find a copy of the old blueprints for the apartment in one of the files at the Organization. The paper was tattered and the ink was fading, but it suited their purpose. All four huddled around the blueprint stretched out on Kirihara’s coffee table. Ryoma leaned over Momoshiro’s lap, using his knee to brace his elbow. He tapped the paper in several places, pointing out potential places for a nest. Exits, nests, and possible problems were all covered. Routes in and out of the building were mapped carefully – now was not a time to make a mistake. The building was too large to go in blind.

Planning took them another hour and a half, but they were ready to go. A plan wasn’t always necessary but with so many people and in such a large place, it was better to be safe than …well, the alternative.

The apartment was located in the older part of the city. When they had expanded the city to suit the needs of its growing populace the Government seemed to forget about the older area. Many old buildings stood empty on the outskirts. Some were completely deserted, others were turned into warehouses. Empty parking lots and dying parks stood like bad memories – a reminder of what had been there. Some of the old houses still had people living in them, lawns overgrown and houses falling down around them. Slums; there was no nicer way of putting it. Dirty children played in the streets as they passed, dogs fought over a knocked over garbage can in an alleyway between an old abandoned shop and a broken house.

“Jesus,” Kaidoh whispered, hand against the window.

“Never been here Mamushi?” Momo teased.

Kaidoh was one of the more sheltered Hunters. He had never lost a family member or a friend to the monsters. Had never watched the colour drain from their slack faces, never had their blood on his hands as he tried to save them. He had never really explained to anyone why he had chosen to become a Hunter. But that was his choice. Some Hunters talked, others didn’t.

Kirihara glanced at Ryoma who was next to him in the back of Momoshiro’s car. Longer legs got front seats. He stared blankly out the side window, looking almost bored. As far as Kirihara knew, this was his first hunt. He should be pissing himself in terror, not watching the streets go by with glazed eyes. He would have almost preferred if Ryoma was scared – scared made you careful. It meant you understood what you were going into. He didn’t need the rookie going in unprepared and getting them all killed. Larger groups meant you had more than your own life to look after.

Ryoma lazily turned his head to Kirihara, gold irises drowning out the pinpoint pupil, “you’re staring at me.”

Kirihara wrinkled his nose, so he was. “We don’t need you going in there half-cocked. We need you to take this seriously.”

Ryoma smirked, “you’re really not the one who should be giving me a lecture. Not from what I’ve read in your file …”

Kirihara opened his mouth to send back a snarky remark but Kaidoh quickly reached into the back seat and slapped both their knees, “oi, fight it out later, we don’t really have the time for your bullshit right now.”

“It’s daytime though? Even if something is awake it’ll be groggy. All we need to do is find them and behead them, right?”

Kirihara sighed, even though the kid was from a famous Hunter lineage he still had a lot to learn. Books and being taught how to shoot only got you so far. He was about to learn a tough lesson, Kirihara only hoped he lived long enough to get it.

Momoshiro parked on the side of the street, the apartment building a block over. A chain link fence encircled the property, warped and broken over time. Momoshiro shook a section of the fence – sturdy, with no holes big enough to crawl through. That meant they were going over.

Kaidoh and Momoshiro easily hauled themselves over the fence – having the height and the upper-body strength to do it. Ryoma scrambled up the fence, bracing himself on the top bar as he kicked his legs over. He landed on the other side in a crouch, lowering his center of gravity to better keep his balance. Kirihara took a running leap, using his momentum to hook one foot on the fence and then throw his legs over. His arm hooked on a broken link, tearing his sweater and a bit of his arm.

“Fuck!” He twisted his arm around to get a better look. It was just a scratch, but there was still blood. Just what he needed! Vampires were worse than sharks.

“You okay?” Momoshiro examined Kirihara’s arm, “you still want to go through with this?”

“We’re already here, might as well. Let’s just hope Echizen’s right about them being groggy.”

Ryoma grinned nervously, quietly hoping he was right as well.

The door that opened up to the main lobby was chained closed, the heavy iron chain clamped by an equally large padlock. Kaidoh rattled the door, testing the strength of the chain.

“We going around? I have cutters in my trunk,” Momoshiro shrugged, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his car.

Kirihara shook his head, “around, blue prints said there was a side door somewhere here. Besides, I like to limit myself to only breaking one law a day.”

Thanks to Tezuka, all Hunters were known to the police force. They were allowed to carry a special license so that if they were picked up on a job, they’d be allowed to walk. It was like working for a secret service, or undercover – fun toys and dirty jobs, but the police didn’t always know about you. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work. Tezuka had been called far more times than necessary to bail one of his Hunters. He used to work for the City Police force, but quit when Ryuzaki asked him to take over the Organization for her. That was how the Hunters got a lot of their jobs – crimes that just couldn’t be solved within the reach of the law.

Around the side of the building a small door stood, broken off its hinges. The iron chain lay broken, kicked off to the side.

Momoshiro signaled to Kirihara,” Mamushi and I will go down, you and Echizen can start up.”

Kirihara and Ryoma nodded; that was the plan. Momoshiro and Kaidoh would start on the main floor and work their way down through the basement and storage. Ryoma and Kirihara would work their way up through the rooms. Tezuka supplied special equipment to larger teams, making it easier for them to communicate in case they split up. Each Hunter had a collar microphone with an earpiece; uncomfortable and expensive, but it beat the hell out of trying to balance a walkie-talkie, a flashlight, and a gun.

Momoshiro and Kaidoh slipped quietly into the lobby, following the wall to the far side. There was a heavy door with a burnt out exit sign over it, a trash can knocked over in front of it. Momoshiro pushed it out of the way with his foot, the loud scrape of metal echoed in the empty room. He cursed quietly and looked around, so much for being unexpected. Kaidoh followed closely behind, sweeping the room behind them. When Momoshiro disappeared into the doorway Kaidoh signaled to Kirihara. He and Ryoma made a sweep of the other side of the lobby, bringing them closer to the opposite stairwell.

“It’s fucking dark down here, but it’s pretty open,” Momoshiro’s voice hissed through the earpiece.

“Let us know if you need help,” Kirihara pressed the collar, he felt less like a bounty hunter and more like a military spy.

“So far I don’t see anywhere they can hide, it’s just a huge wide open room. Hold it, Mamushi found something …laundry room I think?”

Ryoma and Kirihara looked at one another, might as well keep moving. Kirihara kept ahead of Ryoma, who hung back a few steps. He wasn’t in top form, but like hell he was going to put his life in the hands of an egotistical rookie.

Lucky for them the apartment building was small, only a handful of rooms per floor. Each was small, and a quick inspection was enough to tell them if there were signs of a nest of not. On their way to the next stair well, Kirihara stopped suddenly, flattening himself against the wall. He waved to Ryoma to get back; the rookie nodded and pressed his back against the wall. Kirihara tightened his grip on his gun, keeping it ahead of himself as he crept forward. Fresh blood was pooled in front of the doorway to the stairs, and what looked like drag marks disappeared under the door. The exit sign flickered, illuminating the blood in small bursts.

“Momo, Kaidoh, you guys okay? We may be close to something.”

No answer.

Ryoma’s large eyes reflected the security lights over-head, “we have to go find them!”

Kirihara hissed, narrowing his eyes at Ryoma, “we can’t wait!”

Ryoma shook his head, taking a step back,” they might be in trouble.”

“This is fresh blood kid, if they grabbed one of those brats from outside we may be their only hope. Momo and Kaidoh can look after themselves!” Kirihara pointed dramatically at the stain, teeth bared in a snarl.

Ryoma swallowed audibly, eyes darting from the blood to the other stair well, “what if they’re already dead and Momo needs our help?”

“How are we supposed to find them? Without Momo guiding us, we’re running around here blind! So if there’s a pack of zombies downstairs waiting for us we’ll be running straight into them!” Kirihara growled; he wasn’t used to being the voice of reason.

Ryoma inhaled deeply before nodding, taking the few steps to bring himself next to Kirihara.

Keeping an eye on the hallway Kirihara shouldered open the door, flashing the penlight he had stuck in his cast up the stairs. More blood was trailed up the stairs, but besides that it was clear. He stuffed a small pile of garbage into the edge of the door, forcing it to stay halfway open. Ryoma slipped into the stair well behind him, flashing his penlight into the hallway before going up the stairs. As soon as his foot hit the second step the door behind him slammed closed. Kirihara spun around in time to see Ryoma grabbed from behind and thrown into the back wall. A re-animated stood at the bottom of the stairs, its head rolled awkwardly sideways on its hunched shoulders. The shirt and arms were soaked in blood, but none was on its face. The creature chuckled, a forced sound that didn’t belong in the absent face. The door at the top of the stairs opened and banged shut, Kirihara quickly flashed his light up. It fell on the dead eyes of another re-animated.

Jesus Christ it was a trap. The blood they found was probably from the creatures, which was why it was on their bodies but not their faces. Jesus H. Christ on a frigging cracker!

The re-animated a few steps below Kirihara lunged forward, grabbing his ankles before he had a chance to move. He was pulled down hard onto the steps, screaming in pain as he knocked his elbow onto the step. He managed to keep a grip on his gun, despite being sprawled on the steps half under a zombie. He tilted it up and fired point-blank into the zombie’s chest. It reared back, giving him more room to angle a shot at its head. It crumpled backwards in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. A shuddered moan reminded Kirihara about the other zombie, fingers came into his line of view as the creature tried to grab his head. He wasn’t in a good enough position to fight it off; neither foot had a good grip on the steps. The only reason why he hadn’t slid the rest of the way down was because his elbows were hooked on the steps. If he tried anything, he would have been firing blindly above his head in a small room – bullets did have a tendency to bounce. The stench filled his nostrils and he grit his teeth. If it clamped onto him then he’d be able to possibly take a shot at it, if it snapped his neck, he was screwed. The loud bang of a gun going off made his eyes fly open, the bullets whizzed past his head, rustling his hair. The zombie gurgled and fell forward. Kirihara cursed loudly as the corpse landed on him, it squirmed awkwardly against his chest; the last twitch of dying nerves. He wiggled one foot onto a step and planted the other on the zombie’s chest, using his good arm he managed to shove the corpse off of him. Ryoma sat with his back against the wall, gun in a two handed-grip. His chest heaved; eyes wide with shock. Kirihara kicked the bodies apart and landed two more bullets in each, wouldn’t be good to have them get back up.

When their eyes traveled to one another they blinked and started laughing. It wasn’t that the situation was funny; it was that relief had the strangest way of showing itself.

“I’m glad you’re a good shot kid,” Kirihara chuckled.

Ryoma grinned, “me too.”

They dragged the corpses into the hallway, once they cleared the building they’d have to burn them. It was the only sure way of killing a vampire – actual or zombie.

Sudden static from their earpieces made both jump.

“Oi, Echizen, Kirihara? You guys okay?”

Ryoma’s eyes widened, a small smile spreading across his face, “yeah, we’re okay now.”

“We were ambushed. Mamushi found some wet blood in the laundry room, and as it turns out, the laundry room breaks off into a bunch of little storage rooms. One came up behind us and knocked Kaidoh back, then it came after me. Another one came out of nowhere. We just managed to take them down.”

Kirihara and Ryoma frowned at one another. Kirihara took over, pressing the band at his throat, “the same thing happened to us, wet blood led us to a stairwell where we were ambushed.”

“That’s impossible!” Kaidoh’s came through, rough with disbelief and a hint of pain.

“Not if they’re being controlled,” Ryoma’s eyes narrowed in thought, “I read somewhere that some Ancient’s are able to control a re-animated vampire, even if they didn’t create it. Kind of like hypnotic suggestion.”

“Even to get it to wake up in the middle of the day?” Momo’s voice sounded suspicious.

“Apparently,” Kirihara defended, “don’t forget, it is really dark in here, all the windows are boarded up. I don’t think their bodies work the same as a regular vampire’s, so they can probably move around as long as they aren’t in the light.” How else would they have woken up? And for that matter, why?

The line grew quiet for a moment, when Momoshiro’s voice came back it was quiet and slightly panicked, “you guys gotta see this …”

The basement was dark and dusty. Wooden doors hung off their hinges in the storage rooms, cardboard boxes piled around them. That was what made the reinforced steel door with number code entry lock look extremely out of place. There was no dust on or around the door, and all the boxes had been pushed off to the side.

“That explains the zombies then,” Kirihara’s voice was hushed.

Momoshiro raised an eyebrow, “how?”

“Guards.”

“Oh shit! That makes sense, Mamushi and I got too close,” Momoshiro pounded his fist into his opposite hand in realization.

“How does that explain why we were attacked?” Ryoma asked.

Kirihara shrugged,” probably just disturbed the building in general. That also means that whatever is in that room is powerful.”

“And we can’t hurt an actual vampire without Tezuka-san and Sanada-san’s permission right?” Ryoma watched the door warily.

“Right, and I don’t know if this place is classified as a nest anymore,” Kirihara frowned, “we should probably tell Tezuka-san about this, he may have to explain this to Sanada-san so it doesn’t end up turning into a war or something.”

Kaidoh nodded towards the door, “Tezuka-san classified this as a nest, so he probably doesn’t realize this is here. If he doesn’t know about it, then that might mean Sanada-san doesn’t either. Doesn’t he clear our hunts with the Master?”

“Um, guys, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Ryoma stepped in between the other three Hunters, “but it’s dark in here, and we don’t know how many zombies are here, plus, there’s a powerful vampire behind that door …can we leave?”

It took them less time to exit the building than it did to get into it. Four sets of thumping feet echoed loudly through the building as they sprinted for the exit. They no longer cared if they woke anything; the sooner they got out of the building, the sooner they’d be safe. Just because they could no longer kill the re-animated, didn’t mean it worked the other way around. Strangled moans rose from the stairwell behind them, but the way to the door they entered remained clear. Momoshiro burst into the sunlight first, spinning around to aim his gun back into the building while the other three ducked under and around him. Shuffling shadows hovered at the end of the lobby, confused now that the threat was gone.

Kirihara shielded his face as his eyes adjusted, “I haven’t had to run like that in a long time,” he panted.

“Mada mada dane,” Ryoma chuckled, his voice slightly out of breath.

It took every last ounce of Kirihara’s strength not to cuff him in the back of the head.

Ryoma licked his lips and grinned, but immediately narrowed when he got a better look at Kirihara, “you feeling okay?”

Kirihara tilted his head, “uh, yeah, why?”

Ryoma pointed to Kirihara’s face, “your colour is off and your eyes are kinda red.”

Kirihara shrugged and rubbed his eyes, “I don’t like the smell of blood.”

“I couldn’t smell anything?” Ryoma tilted his head.

Kirihara chuckled, “do this long enough kid, and you will.”

Ryoma nodded and left it at that, he had much more pressing things to deal with. A mischievous light gleamed in his eyes as he followed Momoshiro back to the car. He wiggled into the back seat, brushing his shoulder down Momo’s arm when he pulled the seat back for him.

“Kirihara-san, I don’t mean to intrude, but maybe we should phone Tezuka-san from your place? Just incase he wants us to go back and clear it away anyways?” Ryoma’s lips twitched in a wicked smirk before settling into child-like innocence.

Ryoma only used a title when he wanted something; ‘Kirihara-san’ meant he was digging. Kirihara frowned, he wasn’t sure what Ryoma was up to and didn’t know how to get around it.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Momoshiro pulled into the artificially lit underground parking garage about half and hour later, backing into his usual spot. The jolt of the breaks woke the other three up, all of whom had fallen asleep almost as soon as Momoshiro turned the car on.

“Glad you all had a nice nap,” he scowled.

Kirihara grumbled again, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He was now cramped in places that should never be cramped. “There’s no cell service down here so we’ll have to go up to my apartment.”

The elevator seemed far more cramped and warm with four large male bodies in it. Ryoma had wiggled back next to Momoshiro, pressing their shoulders close together with a slight grin.

“Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee,” Kirihara chanted happily as he padded through the hallway to his door, “boots off at the door Momo!” He called back to him, unlocking his door. He didn’t wait for the other three to catch up; they knew where his apartment was. The apartment was warm and stuffy, making him gag when he walked into the wall of heat. He turned on his coffee pot and set about opening windows when the other three entered his home.

“I’m calling Tezuka-san!” Ryoma called into the kitchen as he passed through to the living room. His hushed voice soon flittered back to the main area. He explained everything to Tezuka; from entering the building, separating, getting ambushed, and then finding the questionable door. He left out the part of them running from the building like a bat out of hell, probably for the better. Ryoma hummed in agreement a few times before hanging up. “Tezuka-san agrees that it was better we left. He’s going to talk to a few sources to see if they know anything about this lair.”

Momoshiro found the remote again and flipped the television on, settling back onto the couch cradling his coffee. Kirihara paused in the kitchen, watching the other Hunters drift around his living room getting comfortable. He wasn’t much for entertaining guests; he enjoyed his privacy far too much. But for some reason, seeing them relaxed in his house, almost like friends, was comforting. He shook his head, as if trying to throw off the idea; he was getting soft in his old age.

Empty coffee cups were abandoned on the table as they got ready to leave.

Ryoma slipped very purposefully up behind Momoshiro, “Momoshiro-san~,” there was that politeness again, “would you be able to drive me home?”

Momoshiro glanced at him, “uh, yeah sure.”

Ryoma glanced over his shoulder at Kaidoh when Momoshiro had put his head back down to tie his other boot. The look said, very blatantly, ‘find your own way home’. Kaidoh’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Yo, Mamushi, you not leaving with us?” He pointed to Kaidoh’s still socked feet.

“Uh,” Kaidoh’s eyes flitted to Ryoma, “don’t know, I have to meet Sensei, so don’t worry about me.”

Momoshiro shrugged, ”cool, whatever. See you tomorrow then?”

When the door closed behind the pair, Kaidoh and Kirihara burst out laughing. It was more from shock than the actual humor of the situation.

“What the hell was that?” Kaidoh turned to Kirihara, stunned expression on his face.

Kirihara shrugged, eyes watery from laughing too hard, “no frigging idea!” When their laughter had dwindled down to soft chuckles he asked, “you really got a ride home?”

Kaidoh nodded and smiled, “yeah, don’t worry about me.”

Kirihara tilted his head, when Kaidoh wasn’t scowling he was actually very pretty. There was something almost feminine about the fine bones of his face. The deep voice was the only dead give away that he was all male. His mother must be a delicate but beautiful woman. It kind of explained why he scowled so much, made him look masculine.

Kaidoh flipped his phone open and dialed an obviously familiar number. The deep baritone that answered was unmistakably Inui-sensei, even if his words couldn’t be heard. Kaidoh smiled, his eyes turning soft, “hai sensei, sorry to bother you-“ a deep blush crept over his cheeks when Inui interrupted him.

Kirihara slipped back into the kitchen unnoticed, fearing he would start laughing if Kaidoh blushed again. He wondered vaguely if Momoshiro had ever seen this side of Kaidoh? Probably not. He couldn’t see Momoshiro letting Kaidoh live something like that down. The click of the phone meant the conversation was over, and safe for him to leave the kitchen. Kaidoh slipped his boots on, tying them quickly.

“I’ll see you later, thanks for the coffee,” he bowed slightly before leaving the apartment, careful to close the door gently behind him.

Ryoma rocked back and forth on his heels as he rode the elevator down to the basement garage with Momoshiro.

“What are you so happy about?” He asked, noticing Ryoma’s perked spirits.

Ryoma shrugged, “nothing in particular.”

The elevator slid open and they exited. Ryoma remained a step behind Momoshiro the entire way to the car, causing him to continuously glance back. He frowned, not sure what Ryoma was up to, or even if he was actually up to something.

“It’s not automated,” Momoshiro apologized as he unlocked his door and slipped in. He leaned across the passenger seat to unlock the other door. When he straightened back up Ryoma was still standing next to his door, “uh, it’s unlocked now …”

Ryoma grinned, placing one hand on the roof and the other on the steering wheel as he leaned into the car. Violet eyes widened dramatically as Ryoma leaned over him, bringing their faces close. Ryoma kissed him gently, almost hesitantly. When Momoshiro didn’t respond he leaned back, bringing his hand from the top of the car to the back of the driver seat. He tilted his head as he watched Momoshiro’s face, golden eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to bite you; you are allowed to kiss me back.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Momoshiro’s voice was soft.

“Why not?” Ryoma frowned, “I’m attracted to you, you’re attracted to me, what’s wrong with that? We’re both adults.” Taking a more direct approach he threw his leg over Momoshiro’s lap before he had a chance to respond. With both hands on the back of the seat he was able to shift himself until he was straddling Momoshiro’s lap. Luckily, the seat was far enough back so he could tuck his knee in close to the door. His other fit comfortable between the driver and passenger seat.

“Jesus!” Momoshiro jumped in shock, grabbing Ryoma’s wrist as he closed the door. “You’re not kidding!”

Ryoma raised his eyebrows, “what gave you the impression that I was?” He perched on Momoshiro knees, hands braced on the back of the seat above Momoshiro’s shoulders.

Momoshiro opened his mouth a few times before closing it; he really didn’t have a good answer. Ryoma grinned and leaned forward again, kissing Momoshiro a bit more forcefully this time. Momoshiro’s lips slip against his, but the kiss remained chaste. Ryoma leaned back with a frustrated sigh, but the sound died on his lips at the expression on Momoshiro’s face.

A wicked grin was spread across his face, eyes narrow, “awfully forceful aren’t you?” He cupped Ryoma’s backside as he leaned forward to kiss him.

Ryoma gasped, allowing Momoshriro to take control of the kiss and push his tongue inside. He swiped his tongue over Ryoma’s before drawing back, allowing Ryoma to nip at his bottom lip. The rookie began grinding his hips against the taller Hunters, letting him know full well what he wanted. Momo reached down the side of the seat, hitting the switch to recline the seat further. Ryoma lurched forward when the seat dropped, his weight still supported on the back. Momoshiro laughed at Ryoma’s startled expression, tilting his head up to nip along the bottom of Ryoma’s jaw.

“You did that on purpose!” Ryoma attempted to sound indignant, but his voice came out breathless.

“Yup,” Momoshiro ran his tongue up the column of Ryoma’s throat, making the smaller tremble.

Ryoma pushed his hands up under Momoshiro’s shirt, forcing it up over his head. He tossed the garment into the back seat, his own shirt following shortly. Momoshiro wrapped his long arms around Ryoma’s waist, bringing himself up enough to be able to press his mouth to Ryoma’s chest. He scraped his teeth down the centre of Ryoma’s rib cage, trailing his tongue back up. He loosened Ryoma’s belt with one hand while he traced his tongue around one small nipple. Ryoma moaned, threading his hands through Momoshiro’s short hair. With the belt open he was able to push his hand down the back of Ryoma’s pants, fingers searching.

Ryoma chuckled, “don’t waste any time do you?” He ended in a loud moan when Momoshiro pressed a finger inside of him.

Momoshiro chuckled against his neck, biting his ear lobe, “loose little fucker aren’t you?”

Ryoma shrugged, rolling his hips back so Momoshiro could get his hand down the back of his pants easier, “I like my men, what can I say?”

“A pint sized man-eater,” Momo nudged Ryoma back against the steering wheel so he could wiggle off his pants.

Ryoma shrugged, “I do what I can.” He stretched his arms out along the dashboard, reclining casually.

Momoshiro couldn’t help but laugh, Ryoma was far too comfortable about it all. “So you decided I was good enough then?” He gripped the small hips to pull him forward.

Ryoma traced his fingers up the insides of his own thighs, “ah, you are.” He stroked himself slowly; if they were simply going to trade witty repartee then he might as well keep his body interested.

“You were so keen on getting my clothes off earlier, don’t stop now,” Momoshiro settled back against the seat, arms crossed over his stomach. He bounced his knee, jolting Ryoma.

The Rookie slid back down his knees, the rough material of Momoshiro’s jeans caressing between his legs. He shuddered and moaned softly, rubbing himself against Momo’s legs again. The taller Hunter grinned as he watched Ryoma grinding on his legs; he was enjoying the show too much to rain on the little Hunter’s parade. Large golden eyes fluttered open, wicked grin back in place. He leaned forward and licked a wet trail up the centre of Momoshiro’s chest as his hands went to work on the others belt. He quickly opened his jeans and with teasing fingers drew his erection out of the confines of his boxers.

“You know, this is probably going to end up hurting both of us,” Momoshiro’s voice was husky from pleasure, but there were still the undercurrents of concern.

Ryoma glanced up from where he was leaving a nice big red mark on Momoshiro’s collar, “what do you mean?”

“Unless you got lube somewhere on you, it’s gonna be pretty dry. And it’s too awkward for you to blow me,” he tilted Ryoma’s chin up to make sure the other was listening to him.

Ryoma nodded, licking the tips of Momo’s fingers, “I understand what you mean …I could always try?” He wiggled down Momoshiro’s legs. When his back bumped the steering wheel he paused, turning slightly to find the switch. Finding it under the steering column he tilted it up as high as it went. Pushing Momoshiro’s legs open he snuggled down between his knees, low enough not to hit the steering wheel. For the first time in his life he was happy he was smaller than average, any bigger and he wouldn’t have fit into the drivers side. He made sure his feet wouldn’t accidentally hit a pedal before leaning down and swallowing Momoshiro completely.

Momo jumped, cursing loudly. He collapsed boneless against the seat, one hand tangled in Ryoma’s hair. His hand guided Ryoma’s head up and down as the other sucked hard, tongue flicking and caressing.

“Ah, shit, you better stop before all your efforts go to waste,” he tugged gently at Ryoma’s hair.

Ryoma placed one last leisurely lick from base to head before crawling back onto Momo’s lap. He grabbed Momoshiro’s right hand and sucked on the first two fingers. After coating them completely he showed him his hand, “this’ll help.”

Momoshiro laughed and shrugged, might as well. He pulled Ryoma closer as he reached around him, pressing his two wet fingers into him. Ryoma moaned and relaxed around Momoshiro’s fingers, hips rocking with the rhythm. His fingers probed and stretched him, suddenly tapping against something inside of him. Ryoma cried out and bucked against Momo’s hand, collapsing against his chest.

“Hm, I guess that was it,” Momoshiro tilted his head, violet eyes sparkling.

“Yes, that was most definitely it …” Ryoma wiggled against his hand, “I’m okay now.”

Momoshiro pulled out his fingers and then helped Ryoma wiggle over his lap. Using the same hand he held himself straight as Ryoma slid over him. Both moaned as Ryoma’s warm passage closed in on him.

“Damn, for a whore you’re tight.” Momo moaned into Ryoma’s chest.

Ryoma wrapped his arms around Momoshiro’s neck, forcing them both into a more sitting position. “Or maybe you’re just that big?”

Momoshiro chuckled, teeth worrying a nipple, “I like the sound of that better.”

Ryoma rocked his hips as he got a feel for his surroundings. The ceiling of the car was too low for him to sit up straight, so that meant he couldn’t ride Momo straight up and down. He would have to slide himself on an angle, at the same time sliding his erection across Momoshiro’s stomach. That worked.

He braced his hands on the top of the seat, using his shoulders to pull himself forward. He shuddered at the feeling of Momo’s large erection sliding out of him, and his own sliding against the soft skin of Momoshiro’s stomach. Clenching his thighs he pulled himself back down fast, drawing Momoshiro into himself as far as he could. A gasp escaped from parted lips as Momoshiro’s head fell back against the seat. Both of his hands were clasped to the smaller Hunters hips, bruising as he guided him.

Ryoma continued to ride the larger Hunter, thrusting and rolling his hips. Strangled moans and gasps fell from his lips in perfect rhythm to his movements. Momo planted his feet firmly on the floor boards and thrust up as Ryoma slammed down, effectively driving himself further inside with a resounding slap. Ryoma cried out, a violent tremor running up his spine.

“Do that again,” his voice was a high keening whine, eyes clenched shut.

The car rocked with the force of their coupling, windows fogging quickly. Ryoma’s screams echoed loudly in the small car, accompanied by Momoshiro’s grunts. It didn’t take long for Ryoma to reach his climax, splattering semen against Momoshiro’s stomach and his own. Momoshiro tightened his grip on Ryoma’s hips as he drew the other down with more force, snapping his hips up. Ryoma’s moans came out like small hiccoughs every time Momo’s hips slammed into his back side.

“Oh fuck!” Momoshiro’s back arched with the force of his orgasm. He rolled his hips as he emptied himself inside the smaller male.

Ryoma moaned, collapsing against Momoshiro’s chest again. He tucked his face into the crook of Momo’s neck, sighing contently. He shuddered as Momoshiro’s softening erection slid out of him, semen trailing down the backs of his legs.

“I’m going to leave a wet spot on your jeans in a second,” Ryoma’s voice was tired but satisfied.

“Eh?” Momoshiro blinked, higher brain functions unavailable, “oh …OH! Shit, yeah, sorry about that, I usually pull out.”

Ryoma chuckled, licking a trail of sweat from Momo’s neck, “s’ok, feels kind of nice.”

Momoshiro could feel the warmth of his semen seeping through his jeans. Sighing heavily he hooked one arm around Ryoma’s shoulders as he leaned closer to the passenger side. Popping the glove box he pulled out a handful of fast food napkins.

“Best I can do.”

Ryoma cleaned them off the best he could, abandoning the effort to clean himself out when he realized just how uncomfortable the napkins were on stretched and sensitive places. He wiggled back into his jeans, he was just going straight home anyway. He slid into the passenger seat and curled up against the door.

“Wake me when we’re at my place.”
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Colour Me Blood Red