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Teenangel and the Demon Called Hormones	By : QeQue Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General Views: 9194 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-a lemon that wasn't
- 2-a wet lemon
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer : Yummy no Matsuei... er..., Yami no Matsuei and all its gorgeous, yummy bisshies are properties of Yoko Matsushita and associated companies. I'm just borrowing them for my own perverse thought.

Warning : A slice of lemon on this part

Have fun!!
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Teenangel and The Demon Called Hormones

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He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe what he was doing.

"Tsuzuki�" the name stammered out his mouth in whisper.

The deep purple orbs looked up at him, strangely calm, as though the owner was smiling through them. Much to the younger's embarrassment.

"I� I don't know why, this shouldn't be--" he couldn't form a coherent sentence. The fact that he found himself sitting on top his partner and had ripped open his top was just too confusing. A minute ago they were just having a silly fight about desserts�Where the hell that sudden pulse came from? And why--

He broke off from his thought as a firm hand gently caressed his neck and rested on his cheeksharsharp breath escaped his throat. He could feel blush gracing his skin.

"It's okay�" voiced the one sprawled on the leather couch. So tender. So full of understanding.

"We� I shouldn't�" the boy was back on stuttering.

This time a thumb outlining his lips that stopped him from finishing the sentence.

"Sssshhh� it's okay Hisoka� it's okay." He assured, "Come here� I'll teach you."

"Tsuzuki�" he breathed, but Tsuzuki had darted up and caught his lips in a kiss before he could utter anymore words. And without him knowing, he had wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him down. Body against body. Groin against groin. Lips against lips.

He was in such daze that he didn't do anything to respond, But his shock was gradually washed away by warm and comforting affection, a feeling so rich it almost overwhelming; growing a strange docility inside of him. Slowly but surely he submitted himself�

Tsuzuki's kiss had this kind of rhythm. Soft and agonizingly slow, carefully trailing each and every contour of his own passive lips, from the dry edge to the slightly parted curves, mesmerizing them to betray his owner by giving his tongue an entrance.

His playful tongue was a persisting tutor; demanding his novice to follow its dance, in which every unrefined movement was another reason to retake the whole lesson, building up his body heat in each time.

Shame that neither of them could go on forever without needing air. Hisoka felt it first. He tried to push Tsuzuki slightly to fill his lungs. The man refused to break the lip contact.

"Tsu�zu�ki." His protesting moan came in pieces. Although he managed to free his lips, Tsuzuki didn't give them a chance to gape longugh ugh to catch sufficient amount of air. Roguishly he stole the gesture to even more deepen the kiss� and swallowed another moan in relish.

The boy didn't just give up; he glided his hands to the other's shoulders and gave him a light push, pleading for a little break. It was ignored. And when he pushed a little harder, it turned to be a mistake. Tsuzuki again used the motion to comfortably advance on him, and shift him down beneath him.

Now that their positions were the way around and the limited space the couch had, was not much the boy could do. Tsuzuki was still not bored of exploring his mouth� How could he--, "Aah!" His suppressed moan escaped out as he felt his partner's hand found a way underneath his shirt. It traveled along his spine, teasing the sites that had never been touched before.

How he felt so small and helpless within his claim, drowned in his wave of passion.

Tsuzuki smiled against his lips, nibbling the lower part; his free hand began to remove the boy's clothes. Payback.

Hisoka sighed. Why was he wearing a shirt? Buttons were so easy to be ripped off, he shouldn't have worn a shirt that day�

Payback's done. But Tsuzuki didn't intend to score an even result, his hand wandered further down� to the boy's waist, fumbling on his belt for a second before finally got rid of it and at last, having a smooth access to fully undress him.

He stopped his hand and his kiss, staring deeply into Hisoka's foggy eyes. Amethyst met emerald. No need of words nor telepathy to understand those violet orbs; they were asking for permission. Hisoka swallowed a lump caught in his throat, unable to answer, too distracted by the fingers caressing his back waist, too distracted by the soft whiffs of breath tickling his face.

Tsuzuki chuckled and took it as yes.

Hisoka broke the eye contact, shutting his lids of embarrassment as he felt his jeans, his last garment, being peeled off his skin. It went chilly as the night air for a moment. Then warmth; Tsuzuki's heat�Tsuzuki's skin, Tsuzuki's weight ... and Tsuzuki's lips; glided from his belly slowly up to his collarbone, leaving a trace of hot saliva in his tingling skin. He heard a strange mewling noises; who was it? Tsuzuki? No� it was he himself, his own voice as moans.

The hand on his back was drawn to his cheek, while the supple lips climbed up to his ear.

"Hisoka�Open your eyes�" He whispered huskily.

This was one of the rare moments where Hisoka showed an instant obedience. No more ado, no thinking, just doing. He opened his eyes. He saw himself�entirely bare to Tsuzuki's gaze; intense and longing gaze. Such an appreciation that made che cheeks flared. Was it possible to be shivering and having a fever at the same time?

Tsuzuki smiled his breath-taking smile. His eyes shone like no others, tousled dark hair framed his fair skin, perfect lean body� then he noticed; he still got his clothes on.
Not fair...
"Not fair�" his inner thought came out as words, or whimpers, to be exact.

"Mmmmh�?" mumbled Tsuzuki, nuzzling in his ears, tickling it with his tongue.

"I want to see you too�" He swallowed hard, "I want to see you� the whole you."

He chuckled in his ear, "Call for me�"

"Tsuzuki�"

"No�" he whispered, "�Asato�"

"Asato�"

"Asato-sama�" He moved down to the base of his throat, nibbling the place where his pulse was beating.

"Asato-sama�" called Hisoka, almost sounded desperate. Oh, maybe he was desperate.

Another series of chuckle, "� do ien.en." Replied Tsuzuki, being too lazy to use his busy hands to undo his remaining clothes.

Hisoka obliged almost too willingly. Pulling down everything carelessly�

So they were back on square one, the even situation.

Or not.

Hisoka looked away. Seeing Tsuzuki in such a state was an abuse on using the word 'beautiful'. It was devastatingly handsome it was scary. Most into his past experience. Beauty was always hand in hand with deceit. What if this beautiful creature was not hisTsuzuki? Where was Tsuzuki he knew?

"Hey�" toned Tsuzuki softly, lifting the younger's chin, "It's okay, it's me� It's only me�" he drew his face closer consolingly and pecked his eyebrow. He looked at him encouragingly; their noses touched each other and he smiled.

Hisoka recognized the smile. His usual Tsuzuki's smile. He smiled back, and rewarded him a light kiss.

Tsuzuki return it with more kisses down to his neck, and more caress on his soft spots.

Hisoka bit his lower lip; still feeling too timid to let out heavy moans. He had never known that he could be so sensitive to touch. Probably because he had never got enough of them to get used to. Or probably because Tsuzuki was just simply skillful; he could find places that Hisoka himself didn't know they existed. Being an empath didn't mean much in this kind of activity. He wanted to do the same thing to Tsuzuki of course� but Tsuzuki was too content at the moment; as if he was more than satisfied just by spoiling Hisoka, and nothing else he wanted.

He just needed Hisoka to give himself�

Hisoka writhed, arching his back in sheer pleasure, letting their throbbing hardness press together.

That strange noise again. Somewhere between purring and growling.

Yes, he was moaning, he realized.

Remembering that he also had hands, he moved them up Tsuzuki's shoulders and took a grip on them, burying face into his silky dark mane. His skin was searing, no difference with his. They were actually naked. They were actually making love. How could he end up being a bundle of shrieking nerves like this? How did they start this?�No. How did he start this? Yes it was he himself who started all the things.

Just because of that stupid caramel pudding. He didn't know whether to curse or to be grateful that Tsuzuki had robbed that dessert of his.
Food grudge is deep. Had Tsuzuki said that when they had their first food fight?

"All of this�" he breathed, "just because of that stupid caramel pudding�" he sighed, "Baka."

Tsuzuki stopped a second, giving him a mischievous grin� almost feral. "I'm still hungry." He said. He extended a hand to reach a cup on the table.

"Tsu�" Hisoka hissed; something thick and liquid dropped into his shoulder and rolled down to his chest, pooling in his navel, spreading everywhere� caramel sauce. "Baka-yaro�" was his response in utter helplessness.

The tongue lazily licking the mess drove him crazy. He was more than aroused he nearly cried. "Tsuzuki�" he called, he urged, pleading him to stop teasing him and be serious; his lower body aching so much for his attention.

Tsuzuki relentlessly ignored his call, all licking and flicking were continued, descending down to his chest, teasing the all too sensitive nipples.

Low groan kept inside his throat exploded out. All the comprehensive thought was impossible to him; he was too dizzy. Dizzy of the furious rushes of his blood, of the mad pounds of his heart, dizzy of the overwhelming ecstasy.

The boy was getting loud; Tsuzuki found it amusing. He crept up to claim the whimpering mouth, letting his hand to continue the previous job.

Hisoka squirmed senselessly in his caramel-flavored kiss, crushing their bodies together, sharing the sugary mess all over their skin. His tongue battled to take over the dominance, to taste the bittersweet deeper and deeper, trying to quench the growing thirst they had in their every touch.

Tsuzuki was an artist. He was his canvas. The caramel was his paint. His fingers were his brushes� They were creating a masterpiece with touches... careful, detailed... but excited and passionate as well... down his chest, down his belly, down down, parting his legs, reaching and stroking his inner thigh.

The boy cried out his name.
***
It was dark. He was sitting on his the couch, panting; feet tangled with blanket, clothes damped by sweat.

Where the hell--?

A door burst open.

"Daijobu Hisoka?"

Took a time for him to register that it was Tatsumi speaking.

"Tsuzuki�" he mumbled, looking unfocused, "Tsuzuki� Tsuzuki�" he was too dazed.

"Watari, go check Tsuzuki!" said Tatsumi to the blonde man who came in later.

"Doshite?" he asked again after Watari's off, looking worried. Of course, the boy's scream was so loud to have reached his office.

"I� Tsuzuki,� Tatsumi-san?" he confused, what was Tatsumi doing there?, "Where--?" he whirled around, disoriented.

Then he recognized the place. It was the office�

They were in the office. They were working overnight to finish some piling up reports, he remembered. And Tsuzuki had fallen asleep in his desk, and he was getting drowsy himself�

So�, he was dreaming�?

He touched his neck, sweaty� but no sticky caramel or whatsoever. He was wearing a T-shirt and his jeans still wrapped his legs. Perhaps the only thing he felt different was the uncomfortable dampness between his legs.

It was a dream.

A wet dream.
"Baka-yaro!"

***To be Continued***
- 1
- 2
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Teenangel and the Demon Called Hormones