Head (and Shoulders) Game

Disclaimer: The boys aren\'t mine.


Aya was taking a long shower.

Tonight he was claiming the bathroom as his own. He’d moved Ken’s slightly damp running shorts from their spot dangling over the shower curtain rod to the sink. He’d swept Omi’s frilly pink bath poof and his unsettling array of gels and facial cleansers into the back corner of the tub. He’d fished a sudsy clump of long, honey-colored hair out of the drain. There was no blood to scrub away, no sticky, unwholesome sweat clinging to his skin, no agitated teammate clamoring for his turn to wash the night off his body. There was only the gentle hiss of the shower’s spray and the soothing steam that filled his lungs and almost loosened the tightness in his chest.

It’d been weeks since their last mission—too long—and without any dark beasts to hunt, Aya was turning the sharp edge of punishment upon himself. He wasn’t good enough. He hated the shop, the silly girls who took for granted all the time they had to waste in it, and he didn’t try hard enough during his shifts. He was a bad brother; he wasn’t doing enough to keep his sister safe. He was cold and cruel and too full of pride. He was weak and selfish and allowed himself too many distractions. The thoughts beat down on him like the water. He let them flow.

The snick of the bathroom door’s lock being jimmied open registered loud and clear, making reflexes strung like piano wire sing with tension, but Aya stayed still, resting his forehead against cool tile. The aura of smoke that clung to Youji like a cheap date tickled his nose as he heard the door softly click shut. Aya closed his eyes, fingers curling against the slick shower wall in front of him. He imagined he heard the soft rustle of fabric over the water’s drone. He did hear the whisper of metal against metal as the shower curtain was pushed back. A rush of cool air greeted him as Youji stepped inside the tub.

“Go away, Kudo.” Aya kept his fingers curled in front of him and his eyes shut. He felt Youji hovering behind him, close enough to disrupt the fall of the spray on Aya’s skin, yet not quite making contact.

“Wanna play a game?” Youji breathed into his ear, ignoring Aya’s order entirely.

Aya shuddered in the steam. “No.” He felt Youji lean away, heard the subtle change to the cadence of the water as Youji cupped his hands beneath its flow. He felt the backsplash as Youji doused himself.

“Ah, too bad,” Youji said, playful regret in his voice. He kept stealing water from the flow above Aya’s head and splashing it over himself. Behind his eyelids, Aya saw how it would stream over Youji’s body, running in smooth lines down his chest, pooling in his navel, dripping from the sopping curls beneath. “Mind if I just wash up real quick then so I can get to my date and you can get back in your head?”

Aya’s eyes snapped open. He chewed his lip and curled his fingers tighter against the tile. Fuck you, Kudo. He took the bait, of course. “What date?” he spat, spinning around to face a very wet, very naked Youji.

Youji shrugged, somehow managing to maneuver himself directly under the spray without touching Aya. “Just some woman I met a few days ago. She called earlier,” he said, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back under the water. He brought up his hands to sluice water through his hair.

I won’t ask. I won’t ask. I wont ask. “What game?”

Youji raised his head, shaking it like a dog. His hair clung to the sides of his face and his neck, water running from the ends in little rivulets. “Does that mean you’re interested?” he asked, smiling crookedly. Before Aya had a chance to reply, he leaned in close again, still not quite making contact with him anywhere. He held his face less than a breath away from Aya’s, the closeness thicker than the haze of steam around them. “Will you play with me?” He spoke almost against Aya’s lips, the currents of the words tingling deliciously against Aya’s skin.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Youji slowly lowered his face, ghosting along Aya’s neck, tongue just peaking out of the corner of his open mouth as he moved lower. A gust of breath that felt cool in the shower’s warm air played over Aya’s nipple, sending an ironic prickle of warmth that spread down to his belly. Youji moved lower still. He slowly settled into a crouch, continuing to tease Aya with an open mouth that always remained a hairsbreadth away, hovering deliciously close to all of Aya’s most sensitive spots. It was a well-designed torment, forcing Aya to focus in on every whisper of sensation. By the time Youji was on his knees in front of him, Aya was stone hard and could swear he felt each individual drop of water that fell on his skin.

Youji looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, water dripping from his nose and chin. His hands hovered over Aya’s thighs, close enough that Aya could feel their heat, but still not touching. “Do you want to play?” he whispered against Aya’s cock.

Aya couldn’t even work up a weak glare. He nodded, wondering where all his pride went at times like these. A slow smile spread across Youji’s face. Finally, finally, he touched Aya, placing a gentle, teasing kiss to the head of his cock. He leaned to the side and snagged a bottle from a mildewy shelf, pressing it into Aya’s hand. Then he sat back on his heels and peered up at Aya through lashes clotted with water.

Aya looked down at the bottle in his hand. “Shampoo?” His eyes narrowed. Conditioner would’ve been a more comfortable choice, and if Kudo thought he was going to be getting off on watching Aya do all the work—

“It’s the game,” Youji said, peppering sweet, open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin beside Aya’s hipbone. “I do this…” he ran his tongue down the seam of Aya’s thigh, tracing up his balls and then taking his cock deep into his throat. Aya’s mouth fell open in a gasp as he squeezed the shampoo bottle violently. Youji let Aya’s cock fall from his mouth. “While you wash my hair.” He went back to placing kisses along Aya’s shaft, teasing the foreskin with his lips. “You get soap in my eyes,” he said, licking a line down the big vein along the underside, “I stop doing this,” here he deepthroated Aya again, “and I fuck you, hard, up against the shower wall.”

Aya’s body tightened at the words, the muscles in his ass, thighs, and abdomen tensing in anticipation. He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth together to keep from begging Youji to do just that right now and to hell with his game. But he wasn’t ready to beg. He felt Youji’s tongue tracing along the ridges of his stomach muscles, almost tickling and making him flex again. The tongue dipped inside his navel, making him draw in a sharp breath, then moved lower, gliding along the head of his cock. Youji petted Aya’s tense thighs and gently sucked one of his balls into his mouth. Aya forgot that he’d closed his eyes until Youji’s mouth released him. He looked down to see Youji sitting back on his heels again. Youji raised his eyebrows and nodded his head toward the shampoo bottle Aya still held.

Not wanting to betray his eagerness for Youji to get back to what he’d been doing, Aya calmly flipped open the bottle’s lid. The clean, faintly cucumber scent of Youji’s shampoo rose to meet him. He never would’ve said so to Youji, but Aya rather enjoyed the smell, liked picking up its faint traces when he showered after Youji or on the occasions when he was close enough to catch a hint of it in Youji’s hair. Aya moved to squeeze a bit into his palm. He ended up squirting out way too much when Youji abruptly took him all the way down his throat again. Youji mumbled something incomprehensible around his mouthful. Aya assumed it was about wasting his expensive hair products and decided not to care since Youji hadn’t stopped his attentions.

Taking a deep breath of steam-filled air, Aya placed his hands on top of Youji’s head. He gently dug his fingers into Youji’s scalp, working up lather. Careful not to get soap in Youji’s eyes, he started drawing up the long, slick strands from the back of his neck, working them into the suds on top. He found himself somewhat distracted from the sensations of Youji’s mouth and hands, concentrating on his task and working with a steadily moving target. Instead of focusing on the sight of his cock disappearing again and again down Youji’s throat, Aya watched for shampoo drips along Youji’s hairline, gently wiping a line of soap away from his temple.

He was starting to feel a sense of satisfaction in his ability to play this game when Youji subtly switched his technique. He backed off from his steady pace, swapping purposeful momentum for teasing, arrhythmic sucks and licks. The hand that had been expertly kneading Aya’s balls moved back, playing delicately over his ass. The retreat made Aya once again focus in on his own sensations, the frustration almost as delicious as the earlier barrage. He again became aware of the feeling of warm water flowing over his head and shoulders. He noticed the line of Youji’s back, smooth and graceful, the skin golden under its sheen of moisture. He slowly realized that Youji was timing his movements to Aya’s massage of his scalp, complimenting the tentative play of Aya’s fingers over his hair.

Experimentally, Aya moved a hand down to the base of Youji’s skull. He felt Youji’s hand creep down to the valley of his ass. Aya rubbed firmly at the sensitive skin of Youji’s neck. Youji circled an answering finger around Aya’s hole. Aya was beginning to understand what a very good game this was. He wanted to test different actions and play with possibilities, see how far Youji’s creativity extended, but then he met those deep green eyes and saw Youji smile around his cock as he gently pushed the teasing finger just a bit inside. A fierce sense of urgency replaced the exploratory spirit and Aya found himself grabbing Youji’s head, crying out at Youji’s aggressive response. Aya pulled Youji closer and pumped his hips into that wonderful mouth, setting his own pace, eyes rolling back in his head when Youji’s talented fingers matched that frantic pace inside him. He felt the tension building and forgot about the game, head lolled back against the tiles as his focus narrowed again, and this was it, he was there, right there, now. He came down Youji’s throat without a thought to anything else.

It was great for a few moments, but sense quickly returned and Aya realized that the water was starting to cool. Hands still buried in Youji’s soapy hair, he looked down and saw that Youji’s face was covered in suds. They dripped down his chin, dotted his cheeks, ran into his red, watery eyes. Mortified that he’d so spectacularly lost the game, Aya released Youji, pulling his hands away as if he’d been burned. He worried he’d gone too far until Youji let his cock fall from his mouth and grinned, wiping soap out of his eyes with one hand. It was then that Aya noticed the other hand was still wrapped loosely around Youji’s own cock, which looked decidedly and happily spent.

“Damn, Aya. You are fucking hot when you take charge,” Youji said, stretching upright and shouldering him out of the way to get under the water. He rinsed his face and hair, rubbing good-naturedly at his eyes. Not wanting his relief to show, Aya just snorted. He began to inch toward the back of the tub, punishing thoughts already resuming their whispers in the back of his mind. He was just reaching for the shower curtain when Youji brought his head out from under the water, squinting at Aya. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Aya’s grip on the curtain tightened. “I’ll leave you to get ready for your date.”

Youji’s brows beetled together for a moment as if he were confused. His expression quickly smoothed into a leer before he tilted his head back under the water again. “I do believe I still owe you a hard fuck,” he said into the spray.

The litany was gaining force in Aya’s mind. He wasn’t good enough. He was going to fail his sister. He was weak. “The water’s getting cold, Kudo.”

“Then why don’t we take this to my room?” Youji said, momentarily looking into Aya’s eyes, an expression of unguarded hopefulness on his face. Then he cocked an eyebrow and pasted on another leer. “Unless you’re going to forfeit?”

Aya glared at Youji. He let his self-recriminations go for the moment. He told himself it didn’t have anything to do with that look in Youji’s eyes. “Alright, Kudo, you’re on,” he said. After all, he couldn’t just let Youji win.