donges | Ceres drinking games and other fun pastimes

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Ceres drinking games and other fun pastimes

[ Liquor is awful.

Liquor is the most awful thing he's ever put into his body and this is coming from a teenager that saw it as a personal challenge when Maji Burger ported the Triple Bacon Hashbrown Special Burger with Jalapenos over from America. At least that time his ludicrous internal workings had been able to metabolize all nine of those monstrosities once he stuffed them down his gullet; here, draped back in a seat that had once been part of hovercar, Aomine can feel every single shot sitting and simmering in his stomach in a hot, nauseating soup.

He's had four so far. He's not even sure what it is; the names for every drink are unfamiliar and half of them are obscured by the scarred transparent top of the table, which is itself a relic from a time when it was trendy to have the flickering menus set in them. Most of the bar is that, a hodgepodge of old shit, re-purposed shit, discarded shit, and lighting that attracts both dust and six-winged moths in droves. Aomine is watching the moths in particular, noting that each one is in fact an alien, before remembering that he is the one that is the alien here.

He can't remember why he went along with this. Mainly curiosity, probably, but also a lot of pride; he's not a boy, after all. He can handle all kinds of shit.

...what were they talking about.

.......basketball? ] Barkley, he never got a ring, you know?

He should've won a championship, he had a great game. But not one.

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[Well he hasn't passed out, and Katze supposes that's something. He doesn't give Aomine warnings about getting drunk in Ceres, and he wonders when he became so cautious himself. He doesn't have experience with anything but watching these scenes play out. He'd been too broke and too young to really enjoy the bars in Ceres and bars in Midas or in Tanagura were different creatures all together.

Katze's matched him for drinks, but he feels a simple, pleasant buzz. Nothing too awful, nothing disabling. Katze has years of drinking and drug use under his belt so it takes more than that to simply knock him flat. He's glad to see and feel his body hasn't changed that much.

He doesn't know this place, but he knows places like it. Scavenged parts that hint to grander aspirations, that no one ever notices or seems to care about.]<

What do you get if you get rings?

[Katze knows more about this foreign game than he cared to, really. Barkley, he thinks, is perhaps some sort of demi god in Aomine's culture. Maybe. Fortunately he's good with bullshit, and he's good with spitting information back to the person who gave it to him.

More drinks are sent over. Courtesy of someone and Katze doesn't acknowledge it, because the drinks aren't for him.]

You're very involved in this game but no one even dies.

You're a champion. [ Aomine supplies, like this is the most obvious and important part of the whole deal. ] You're the best player in the world.

[ He pauses, and then his intent expression softens in a patchy way, eyes first, mouth later. ] The best team. You don't play basketball by yourself.

[ But that's way, way too personal a thing to be saying and he covers up the bizarre tightening in his chest with another shot, despite the fact that liquor is the worst thing in the world. He doesn't know where the drinks are coming from and doesn't ask; as far as he knows, Katze has opened up a tab.

He waves away Katze's last statement with a floppy hand. ]

Nobody's supposed to die. It's about skill.

You do it because you love it.

[ ...again, something too personal to say. He hasn't said shit like that since middle school. ]

...pros get paid a lot of money, too.

[Katze still doesn't understand. He's never loved anything like that. Never loved someone, or something, with that much passion.

He tries to imagine if there were teams for hacking. For running the Black Market. Then he can sort of understand a need to perform, a need to be the best, but he still wouldn't want people staring at him. Also the recognition usually came with prison time or execution.]

Ah. I understand the money, at least.

[He'd never wanted to be obscenely wealthy but having enough to get by had been a reward in and of itself, even without Iason's trust or his hand in everything that had happened.

Katze takes a shot of his own, but he's still eyeing Aomine and thinking maybe he's a little insane.]

No one loses their lives. It isn't a blood sport. You play because you enjoy it.

[He can repeat it. It doesn't make any sense. But it seems so Elite. A way to pass the time. A useless skill that people do because they enjoy rather than because they need it to survive. Not something that fits into his world view but at least he has passion.

He doesn't ask if Aomine misses it. That's too obvious, and Katze is learning about not bringing up sensitive topics.]

Or maybe they just want people to worship them. The Elite of your world.

Yeah. Yeah, I...

[ Enjoy it. He loses the words because he hasn't actually said them in a long time, even if they'd become true again recently. Somewhere between middle school and now he'd lost the part of him that could really be honest with himself and with others, though alcohol, he's discovered in the last half hour, is an excellent way to dig it back up again. His head is hot and his hands feel clumsy and all his bitterness and cynicism seem so small, and not just because of the liquor.

Katze's told him about some terrible things. Things that hint at miserable, wasted lives, at horror stories that involve children and innocent people that never did anything other than have the bad luck to be born at the bottom of the shit heap.

It makes Aomine's problems and Aomine's dreams appear...simple. Colorful and ideal, like things that aren't really real. ] ...a lot of guys want the fame. There was shit a while back...no, there's always shit about money or - grandstanding. Wanting more minutes.

I'm not after that.

I just want to play.

[ He ducks his head down, chin on his chest, and rolls his empty shot glass back and forth on the table under his fingers. ]

I just want to play with everything I got. That's all.

[ After a pregnant pause, he glances up at Katze. ]

Isn't there anything like that you want?

[Katze is quiet for a long moment. Watching. He feels guilt, somehow, even though none of this is his fault. He feels like he wants to let Aomine play and do something he genuinely enjoys but that's not in his power either.

To do something for the joy of it is an almost alien concept to Katze. You do things because someone makes you, because you need food or shelter or something out of it. Because it's a stepping stone to something else. Not because you want to.]

I haven't wanted anything since I was fourteen, probably. I wanted a way to survive. I wanted my life.

[He'd gained his life. A life as a Furniture, then a life in Midas that was more his own. But he hadn't set out with a clear goal except alive and not on his knees or his back for anyone unless it was of his own free will.

Aomine is a lot younger than Katze was at the same age. It's endearing. It reminds him there is life outside of Amoi.]

But don't take me into account. Life is always different for us.

[For Furniture, he means, but it can be taken as something loosely philosophical.]

It's good to have passions. You end up drifting, otherwise.

But you've got your life.

[ Where the spark of stubbornness comes from, Aomine can't really say. He just knows that there's a sudden need to jut his jaw and lean forward with a purposeful look in his eye, though he has to put his elbows between himself and the table to avoid doing something really embarrassing, like smacking his forehead on the table. It gives him a chance to get his fingers around the second shot that had been delivered on during that last pass from the waiter.

It's blue. He likes that. ]

You could do whatever you want. You could find out what you want.

There's something.

[ He doesn't say there could be, or that there should be, but that there is, no matter what.

That's a leap coming from him, knowing how he spent the last two years, listless and purposeless. It had sucked; being here on this world, without a goal or a passion, has got to suck a hell of a lot more than that. ]

You should get a hobby.

[ His advice-giving skills are unpolished, however. ]

I have my life and I lucked into it.

[There's the scar on his face. The scars hidden by clothing. Katze cracks his fingers, massages his hands idly because they've been broken too and they've always been his livelihood. He would have died without dexterity in them once, and he wonders how it is now.

Aomine is drunk. He can see the odd way he moves, but at least he hasn't hurt himself. Yet. After this shot, Katze decides, he's going to cut the young mongrel off.]

What I wanted is dead. And it is my fault.

[Not something he'd usually admit to but maybe the alcohol is making his own tongue looser as well. And it's disgustingly, depressingly true. Iason was all he ever desired, all he wanted for himself, and it wasn't enough.

But he does chuckle, and it's good natured. Aomine is kind of pointing out how stupid it is to wallow.]

I know. My lot here isn't so bad that I should keep complaining. I'm not much of a hobbyist. There was never any time.

[He can't shut him down though.]

So what would I do as a hobby? I'm not particularly good at many innocent things.

[ Blue doesn't taste like he thought it would. It tastes like apples, and lighter fluid, and dust. It's particularly strong and once it's down, the word swims dangerously for several long seconds before he's able to blink away the haziness. It's a...good feeling, sort of; good enough that the bitter, helpless tightness in his chest doesn't bother him as much as it should, or as much as it will in the morning, once he can think of what Katze said while sober.

What I wanted is dead.

Aomine's head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, so he moves his glass out of the way and rests his chin on his arms instead, a subtle relief seeping through him from how cool the top of the table feels. The vantage point gives him a perfect view of Katze's scar, and how it crawls up the side of his face. ]

That's sad.

[ Just two words. He says them because they're true. It's a sad thing, though he can only sort of comprehend just how much, and how painfully. He's never lost anyone or anything that way.

He closes his eyes. ]

I could teach you how to play.

You've got good reflexes. You could be good.

[ The corners of his mouth crinkle a little. ]

But not as good as me.

A lot of things are sad.

[And that's the simple, brutal truth of it. Katze knows his story isn't even sadder than most. It is the way of things. When the waiter tries to approach with more drinks, Katze turns him away. Aomine probably doesn't need anything else when he looks ready to kiss the table.]

Thank you, I think. Maybe you can teach me sometime.

[Some time when Katze's convinced he can walk straight. Katze knocks back the last two shots on the table purely so his companion can't have them. It would be nice to get totally wasted but that takes a lot more alcohol and less caution.]

I'm older than you and I think I've lived significantly harder. Of course you would be better.

[Still, he's smirking, amused and entertained and actually in a surprisingly good mood. Maybe it's the last bit of the alcohol finally hitting him.]

Not sure what I can teach you in return. I used to know how to cook and clean and manage a household. Out of practice now.

Ffffff, I don't need to be a wife.

[ Speaks the sexist one. ]

I've got Ryou for that.

[ Ryou is a boy, but also the best cook on the team. Aomine bitterly misses his bentos and swears in that moment to somehow thank his teammate, though he forgets this solemn vow a second later.

A lot of things are sad - but, hell, they don't have to be sad all the time. They as in the two of them; he's not sad now or, at least, he can't be entirely sad. He feels like he's draped across a cloud and not half the table. He feels like Katze is maybe better off with that kind of expression, even if it's a smirk and not really a smile. He looks less...severe. Less painfully sharp.

His face isn't bad, honestly. It'd be a model's face, if not for the scar ]

Teach me something useful.

I wouldn't consider that a wife, but once again marriage is...different.

[He knows how it works on other, gender balanced planets. He knows about having a dominant sex, and he supposes that's what it is. But Elite households simply have Furniture, who cook and clean and raise children and that's how it has always been.]

Useful? How to cheat at cards? How to hack? How to serve?

[Indeed, Katze has a strange variety of skills. An odd skill set all together. But Aomine is drunk enough and Katze is, frankly, drunk enough to be a little more lewd. He tips his head so he can see Aomine from a different angle.]

You know how Pets act? I taught them everything they know. Once, at least. I could train Pets, I could serve without being used. But you can't teach that.

[Which brings him back to his point.]

I can't offer you anything legal.

[ Cheating at cards would be pretty useful, yeah, and more reasonable for the teenager whose height of computer prowess is knowing that the voice in his palm reader is not in fact a miniature person. His wandering mind nearly settles on cards, because that would certainly supplement his modest income and absolutely wouldn't get him shanked in a back alley.

But Aomine has spent too much time in Tanagura and Midas both not to be caught by that last one: how to serve. He didn't see the auction last month, but he was there for all the prep, for the lurid displays and packed auditoriums with their stages filled with parades of beautiful, hollow, unsettling people, some of whom had to be desperate and some of whom had to be drugged. He'd squatted in Eos for a time, just purely by chance, and there as well he'd seen the clubs and cloisters, the lit parks and smokey dens with their glittering light shows and leather costumes. He'd avoided them, all his experiences gained at a distance, and he had felt -

He's not sure. He'd been sure at the time, disgusted and repulsed by a culture and an ideology so counter to his own. It's slavery, his mind said. It's wrong.

But with a first class drunk clouding his brain and a ruin of a town all around him and Katze's experiences playing out in half-imagined pictures in his head, it sounds like...an alternative. An option. Some must choose it; some looked like they enjoyed it. ]

Nothing people do around here is legal. [ He points at him, or at least at his navel. ] I was gonna punch you when I met you. That's illegal.

I got arrested for that.

[ He stops. His eyes lower a little, however around Katze's cheek, the strong curve of his jaw. ]

What'd you teach Pets? It doesn't seem like there's anything really to learn.

[ Then again, he only has the vaguest idea of what they even do or what purpose they really serve. ]

True enough.

[He was the head of the black market and that wasn't even that bad considering the den of sin that lower Midas and Ceres were. Are. His cigarettes were contraband, he had boxes of illegal weapons in his apartment. And what had he done with Riki?

He'd had Riki running things for him. There was nothing law abiding about surviving and Katze had only survived because he broke laws and only thrived because he continued to do so. He's not protecting Aomine from anything, trying to shelter him.

Katze laughs at the admission because, well he was going to punch him.]

I don't suggest becoming a brawler. Fight if you have to and be good at it, definitely. But you've seen where it gets you. Attention from darkmen is never a good thing.

[Aomine is staring at him. Katze's not self conscious, has never been ashamed. He could have the scar removed, after all. It was a choice to keep it. He had been beautiful, Iason told him, and Katze's intent to fully ruin that beauty.]

How to fuck.

[Oops, blunt. He's trying to work on that. He kind of sucks.]

Blowjobs. Training them to behave to get pleasure. How to best display. It's rather dependent on the Master, what they learn. And my Master wanted them pretty, obedient, and usually silent.

[ Well of course how to fuck. That's why they do, right? Fuck people. ...each other. Other pets. He knows the rules.

And yet despite the fact that that was the obvious answer, Aomine still feels a foggy heat crawl up his cheeks. He's blushing and it colors his cheeks darker and draws his eyes back down, embarrassment and curiosity and memories tumbling about messily in his head. He's not...hell, he's not completely in experienced. He's been with...one person, so far. He's done things. Not fucking maybe...or much of anything else.

Or really anything other than learn that fingers in his ass feel just as good, or better than, having his dick sucked.

Aomine's face gets darker. ]

I'm not quiet. I'm sure as hell not obedient. [ He says to his elbow. ] Not pretty, either. Not like you are.

[ Did he mean to say that?

He supposes he did. ] But the rest of that stuff, can you show me?

I don't know anything.

[ Which, going by how he says it, is a thing he hates. He doesn't like to screw up, especially not in front of people, and his ignorance pricks at him.

(And Katze is pretty.) ]

[He's kind of cute when he blushes. Katze is wondering at Aomine's experience right then, because sixteen is basically old on the former Amoi. But it's interesting. Something with mental maturity who hasn't been physically ruined yet.

He kind of thinks Aomine might pass out but he doesn't do that either. Just watches him and Katze has to smile. Aomine does remind him of Riki. Reminds him of countless other mongrels who had been whatever passed for friends in his life.]

Pretty? You have had too much to drink. I was pretty ten years ago.

[Still, it's a compliment Katze might appreciate.]

I was always small and obedient to whatever someone wanted me to do for credits. And then I was pretty enough and clever enough for Furniture. I was good with Pets but you know what I was lousy at? Obeying my Master.

[As his face probably shows. As Katze probably shows when he fingers the scar once again and looks for a drink that isn't there. His amber eyes are suddenly more sharp, almost like there's danger.]

What do you want me to show you? Cards? Tech systems? Blowjobs?

[The last is pretty much a joke. Because he can't really ever resist needling someone even if he does like their company.]

Cards.

[ Aomine pauses and spends those few seconds blinking blearily. Then he pushes his hands under himself and lifts himself back up. He starts to shake his head, stops when his stomach does a weird heave, and instead keeps speaking. ]

No, more than that. We can do that later. I don't have any cards.

[ He's intent now, his dilated eyes as focused as they can go, though his body shows his choice and his determination before his mouth actually catches up. He's already sure that he doesn't want to be ignorant; he's already sure it would be really gay, except he's going to be taught something, and that's completely different.

He spends ten solid seconds staring at Katze, and Katze's mouth, before what he wants to say is put in order in his head. ]

Blowjobs. That one.

I don't know anything about computers.

[ The heat from his cheeks feels like it's over his entire face. Ah, but before he forgets: ]

You should shut up about yourself, though. You look great.

I can teach you cards. You have to be ready to run or hit someone if you get caught. But the biggest point is to make sure no one calls you out on cheating.

[Which meant being mean, being frightening, and building a reputation. That can wait until they are both a little more sober. And Aomine is still staring at him and Katze blinks back because what else is there to say on that topic? Maybe he expects him to do a trick?

But it's not about cards and the kid looks like the world is spinning for him. Katze is, actually, starting to feel a little unnerved and a little uncomfortable by the time that word comes.

And he laughs. He can't help it at this point, raking a hand through reddish hair (red enough, anyway) as though that helps him see his companion any better.]

Teach you about blowjobs. You know I should probably charge you for something like that.

[But instead Katze stands, offers a hand up for Aomine and a body to lean on if that's what he needs because this is not the place to learn about cheating at cards or about blowjobs.]

Someone bought me literally because I matched his decor. I grew up well enough, but I'm a mongrel.

[Not renowned for their beauty. Nothing in the genetic alteration soup that Pets came from.]

You're cute, though. Big, like an Elite.

Whoa -

[ Standing up is a hell of an experience. The room spins on a tilted axis, as though the whole world is suddenly a theme park ride. He takes a step to get out of their both and nearly slides right off his feet; only Katze's arm keeps him upright, and he ends up wrapping both of his own around it before he gets himself somewhat stead again. Even then, he doesn't let go, his hand locked just below his elbow. A vauge sense of self-preservation tells him he should keep it there if he doesn't want to bean his brains out on the pavement.

Around them, he hears a smattering of knowing laughter, and one bitter swear, likely from the unseen, kind soul that saw fit to feed drinks to a Mongrel that was apparently desirable enough to be talking to an Elite.

Aomine doesn't really get it and isn't really paying attention. There's the business of walking to take care of, which is much harder than expected when trying to speak, scowl slightly, and glare at the same time. ]

I'm not cute.

[ He says, while padding around his coat to make sure he at least has his palm reader, forgetting it's in his pants. ]

You think I'm big you should see Atsushi.

[ But it's a compliment that's got him grinning once he hears it. Katze's continuing self-depreciation bothers him, but in his current state of mind, such as it is, he can't come up with what sounds like a decent argument, especially when Katze is entirely right about his heritage.

So Aomine settles instead on climbing up Katze's arm and putting his own around the man's shoulders, because that helps, somehow. ]

[Katze shoots a look to the main table of laughing mongrels. He doesn't want to get into any type of fight with them, but if it becomes necessary he's ready. He's dealt with worse.

But he has no idea what Aomine is doing. Climbing him? Clinging like a toddler or some type of animal. Katze gently guides one of the boy's arms around his shoulders and lets him hold his arm with the other one.]

There you go. Focus on one point at a time and walk toward it. Then choose another. If you're going to throw up, throw up in the direction opposite me.

[Nice and soothing. Katze checks the table for anything they may have left instead of patting him down.]

You're tall. Broad. Well muscled. Your hair...you could be a Sapphire. An odd looking Sapphire, but...

[But he's an odd looking Ruby so it works out. He starts to walk with Aomine, murmuring to him, lips brushing his ear or his jaw or his throat, accordingly.]

Do you just feel dizzy and unsteady? I shouldn't have let you have that much to drink.

I'm not gonna throw up.

[ Right...now, at least. ]

I keep telling you I'm not a boy.

[ What he is, is grinning a little wider at the compliments. He's not prideful in the same way that some guys are prideful; you don't see him preening in the mirror like Kise or acting on his size the way that Murasakibara does. But from a guy like Katze - who is and acts so much older, who knows a hell of a lot more, who's taking his time and spending it with him instead of doing whatever he does - it's a flattery that hits him in all the right places, especially while drunk.

Especially when he says them so close against his skin. His lips feel good, better than he would have expected, and his breathing deepens and quickens at the same time, and it's not from the alcohol. ]

Dizzy. Kinda unsteady.

Hot.

[ He laughs, and his fingers dig into Katze's shoulder, and his smile is lopsided and too honest for his own good. He likes this; he likes him close, though it makes his face burn.

He doesn't have to be gay to know that it's nice. ]

We going to my place...? It's not that great.

If that's what you want. Yours is probably closer. Could head to Midas and get a hotel. If they still have those.

[They have to, right? Katze can't imagine Midas without the bright, oddly themed hotels. He's relieved that Aomine isn't nauseated enough to be sick on him just yet.

He's nice enough. Friendly. It's so warming and nice but at the same time Katze knows that it is a fault. Knows that the slums take that kind of thing and exploit it, rip out all the good features you had and leave something hardened behind.

He doesn't want to think of that. He just walks with Aomine out of the bar and is relieved when no one moves to follow them. More because of his hair, he thinks, than because he still looks dangerous.]

I think my place is a bit too far for tonight.

[He reaches up, gently grooms Aomine's hair back away from his face, as though it's long enough to bother him in the first place. And Eos, Tanagura, does seem like a long way away for both of them to stumble. Katze would have waited to sober up even on his own.]

Edited (hit enter too soon) 2015-02-13 04:00 (UTC)

[ Katze's hand makes him forget the conversation for a moment, his mind caught up in a gesture that's both familiar and unfamiliar. He's done the same thing to Tetsu plenty of times, or used to, and now and then he still rests his hand on Satsuki's hair when she needs it. It's not often that the same is done to him; it's weird, but like Katze's lips, it's not bad, and lets just a little bit more of the cool air brush against his warm face.

It also draws his eyes up and over to Katze's face, so that he's looking at him when he speaks to him. ]

Mm, Midas. I don't even have a real bed.

[ And most of the apartment is piled up garbage, only just barely starting to organize itself into something recognizable as a home, instead of just a heap. ]

Mistral Park's too far and takes too much money.

Diedo should have a couple places. Holes in the wall, but I think they've got bed frames and decent mattresses.

[ And best of all, it's within walking distance. ]

[It's been so many years he really has forgotten what it's like in Ceres. He knows the attitude, the bar, the streets. But he doesn't really remember the crushing poverty. The hunger or the desperation or how he once let someone fuck him just because he knew he'd probably freeze to death during the night if he didn't do something.

They aren't good memories. But, at this stage, they aren't bad ones either and he steers them toward Midas. Diedo isn't a name he knows but he trusts Aomine can locate it even intoxicated if he gets them going in the right direction.]

Midas, then. Tell me where to go.

[If Katze can't recognize signs. Surely the language hasn't changed so much. He sculpts his companion's short hair into some kind of order, pets calloused fingers over his neck.

This is the part he likes. The part he used to purchase prostitutes for. But it was rare they enjoyed it; more often they put on a loud and nearly obscene show of enjoying it while watching him with wary eyes. He couldn't blame them, really.]

What have you done? Here? At your home? If you don't know about blowjobs...

[Katze isn't certain how he feels, why he wants to know. It doesn't matter to him, he's planning on treating the mongrel with a gentle enough hand anyway, but it's in him to have all the facts before he begins a project.]

[ Diedo reveals itself to be the next step up from Ceres, an apparently more recent attempt at improving the lot of the impoverished masses. It curves around the edge of the older, more tightly packed urban sprawl of Midas, so that the crumbling, dirty ruin of Ceres transitions into neater, newer, packed prefabs that are quickly being overrun by anyone from the nearby slums with money enough to rent and own there. Here the streets are close and geometric, the homes now patched together not from garbage and refuse, but whatever materials are leftover from the original construction, up to and including massive shipping crates and permanently parked construction modules. Power cables are strung in thick lines over their heads; bristling comm towers jut up from seemingly random locations. Many of the shops and stores have open fronts, product and people and thick, rich smells of cooking and aromatic hookahs spilling out into the street.

Somehow, despite how it looks and certainly plays out like a labyrinth, Aomine still somehow knows where he's going. He might not be able to articulate street names or...any names, really, but pointing and nodding in various direction eventually leads them to a place he's passed through a couple times looking for work.

Most of the lights are red. Men and women both wear very little. Here, the night is still very young and there's a very small scattering of Elites, mainly those with muddier hair coloring and wilder inclinations.

Aomine, for his part, is in the middle of murmuring feels good under his breath while simultaneously working up an answer. This, too, is embarrassing. It's so embarrassing that his neck gets hot under Katze's fingers, but this is what he's here for, isn't it? This is what he asked; to learn a little more, so he's not just limited to: ]

I've just had one blowjob.

It was a really good one, though.

[ And what has he done? ]

Nothing else, really... [ Whoops, Aomine is looking away. That means he's lying. After a night of honesty, lying doesn't feel right, and booze makes it possible to say what something he's never going to say to anyone else, if he can help it. ] ...she put her fingers up my ass.

It was good. I didn't think it would be. That kind of thing...

[ Embarrassed or no, he thinks of Nana's "demonstration" with a strange, intimate fondness. ]

[Midas is where Katze called home. The middle ground of it, back then. Away from the tourists who came to Amoi for an easy fuck, or worse for something illegal on their home planets. Away from the brothels, and the social climbers, to an area that was closer to Ceres than Tanagura but not as dangerous.

The transition is an interesting one and Katze is taking it in again as they walk. Still petting Aomine like he's, well, a Pet, but it doesn't make him notice anything less. Somewhere to explore later, though, and he's impressed at his companions sense of direction.

The whores are nothing new, either. The glittering, bright lights of Midas. Katze can maybe find his way from here. Somewhere on the outskirts, somewhere they won't be interrupted.]

How do you know it was a really good one if you have nothing to compare it to?

[It's a teasing question and he, lightly, tips his head to mouth Aomine's jaw and pulse point when he looks away before hearing the rest of the story.

It's not appropriate to laugh, so Katze smirks and uses the darkness to hide it.]

There are quite a few nerve endings there. In men and in women. And it can be very good.

[He says, pretty much since that's been exclusively his means of pleasure since becoming a Furniture.

He's still amused when he turns, goes into a hotel that looks like it's the kind of disreputable they need instead of what they are trying to avoid. The apparently knowing, leering glance of the man he pays is something he could do without but Katze hasn't ever really cared what people thought and dragging a drunk mongrel off to have sex wouldn't come close to being the worst thing he's done.]

Nice to see some things never change.

[In that the room is small, but serviceable. There is a bed and even a chair. It's also stocked with sex supplies, but Katze shouldn't really expect anything more discreet.]

Pets your age are a hot commodity.

I came really hard. That means it was good.

[ Said with the stubbornness and certainty of a true, or close to true, virgin. Certainly, Aomine has spent plenty of time with his hands and various types of literature and internet videos, but there'd never been reason to explore anything beyond that. Why bother? What he did got the job done to his satisfaction and that had, so far, been more than enough.

Yet even as he says that and reaffirms in his own memory just how often and how hard he could get himself to orgasm, Katze's hands and Katze's lips plant the seeds of curious doubt. The fingers in his hair and the warm spot on his neck draw slow shivers out of him and with them an intimate, sensitive awareness of the man next to him. Even through their layers of clothing, he feels warm, and solid, somehow more real than their surroundings. ]

And I know that. Now. [ Aomine says in response to Katze's tidbit of information concerning anal stimulation, which starts as a protest and ends on a slight stutter as he more or less confirms that he liked it.

Well. If it's like that for everybody there's no reason to be embarrassed about it.

It takes him a minute or two to recognize that they've transitioned from "outside" to "inside" that it's private and dimly lit and he can hear some kind of music through the moderately thin walls. The bed gets his attention immediately and he finally detaches himself from Katze, if only to weave his way over to the mattress. His coat and, in a dextrous feat involving heels and toes, his shoes are left behind along the way, so that he can flop down on his back and stare up at the cheap grid lighting.

He doesn't feel sick, now. The nausea of earlier has turned into something else, into a thick, rich pounding, into thoughts about where he felt Katze's mouth and how gentle his fingers had been. He's not aware of it, but he's nursing a just noticeable semi, his sprawled-back position pushing it up against the fabric of his jeans. ]

Yeah, I know. Had a guy harass me at the auction, try to get me to sign up.

I don't want to.

Fair enough.

[It's a good indicator you liked something, at the very least. Katze won't argue with that. Aomine is a little defensive but in a fun way. A way that makes it entirely too enjoyable for Katze to needle him further.]

You didn't know that before, apparently. And it can be more intense for men, obviously.

[He releases him once he's sure he'll get to the bed without landing on his face. Katze doesn't want to spend the night finding medical attention. Of course that leads to the question of how he does want to spend the night.

His jeans haven't gone unnoticed, or rather the tightness hasn't. Katze always looks at people, he's usually detached from it. Empty to the naked, writhing bodies of Pets as he drags them away. Aomine strikes something in him.]

I don't like Pets. Never liked them. Vapid little things. Stupid and empty. Doesn't mean I like where they end up but...

[More seriously.]

Don't be a Pet. Not unless you know what it leads to.

[He's so earnest about this it hurts. He's remembering Riki, remembering what promise he had and what he could have been. Remembering the broken shell of a person he became and Katze knows that it's his fault. He hadn't denied Iason anything, but dragging someone else into it...

Katze sits on the bed next to him, rests a hand on Aomine's thigh just above his knee and leans over so he can look at him properly, and Katze kind of wonders if he should let him sleep it off here.]

Want to know something sad? I've never had a good blowjob. But I can give amazing ones.

That is sad.

[ Like many things about Katze, it's sad, although the lack of a good blowjob is a loss in such an intimate, personal way, even if Aomine doesn't fully understand why. He can't exactly offer one, being both ignorant of how to give it and not entirely sure of how he'd feel doing it, but there's a hard thread of determination in him, a certainty that blossoms into boldness and energy.

This guy, Aomine wants...

Him? He wants him.

Yeah. Yeah, that's what it feels like. And if that's what it feels like, then that's enough for Aomine, who is never a big thinker even when sober.

He's the type of person that acts and he acts now by reaching up and clasping the sides of Katze's face, excited by his own decision, excited by his nearness, and excited by the hand on his thigh. He holds on to him for a moment, examining his face again, trying to find the why of why he wants him, the bits and pieces that stick in his memory: his mouth, his jaw, the way his hair frames his face. Maybe the hardness as well, how he's sharpened like a knife, a feature that Aomine respects and responds to.

Soft people, people that are all rounded edges and no resistance...he doesn't like them the way he likes Katze (or Kaname, or Nana, or Kagami), because something isn't worth it unless there's some edge to be found.

All these things are going through Aomine's head in a jumbled, heated mass, a tangle of emotion and impression and arousal, when he tugs Katze down and closer and says, close against his mouth: ]

I'm not a Pet.

I'm just me.

[ He kisses him...poorly, getting equal parts mouth and cheek, but he's very intent about it. ]

Are you going to blow me or not?

That's life.

[Not the most elegant metaphor. Life is giving blowjobs and never getting them in return or something like that. Aomine is still watching him with that oddly intent look that makes Katze alternately want to smack him until he looks away and ask something more of him.

Then he's being pulled down. Kissed. It's a strange kiss, uncoordinated, but so genuine it hurts Katze in a particular way.]

You don't have to kiss me.

[In case there was a doubt, in case he's young enough to think that he has to. Katze's not entirely certain except that he doesn't want to coax anything from him he doesn't want to give.

But the question erases any thoughts of that and Katze chortles, shaking his head a little in a bemused way. That reassures him a little and mongrels will be mongrels. Even if they weren't mongrels to begin with.]

I'll blow you.

[He palms Aomine through his pants. Casually, but in a way that suggests he's familiar enough with this part of it. His zipper is undone, along with the button, and Katze slides a hand into the fabric, feeling an odd kind of twinge in himself at the sensation of skin. Except...]

You should take your pants off, then. At least down to your thighs. Don't really like fabric on my face.

[Memories, maybe. A need to exert control maybe. But Katze's more than willing to help him strip down.]

I felt like it.

[ Which, when translated from Aomine Speech, means: I wanted to. He says this with the same basic certainty that he's been saying most of his half of the conversation with, even doing so more or less amounts to saying he wanted to kiss a guy. It's true, so why not say it? Why not be honest? It's all so simple, suddenly. Maybe it'd been simple to begin with and before now he's just been causing undue trouble for himself.

He'd like it, too, kissing him. He really did like his mouth. ]

Thank fuck, I was starting to thi--ahhh, mmm, crap.

[ When had he gotten hard? ...had he been stumbling around outside with a boner? He can't remember and can't find the focus to try and recall, even as he feels a flicker of returning embarrassment. He squirms, looking for a comfortable position, and then he's gasping softly and curling long fingers in the cheap sheets. Katze's hand is still a little cool from the wintery weather outside even with a layer of fabric between them and the difference makes his hips jump and his heart thump, his dick already hustling from reasonably warm to full-on erection, because he's a young and healthy teenager with not a lot of self control.

This might, in fact, be a quicker BJ than both parties expect. ]

Making me do work, damn...

[ He says, while smirking, because haaaaaaa, pants.

Pants are easy. Aomine is, not unexpectedly, much more comfortable stripping in front of Katze than he had been in front of Nana; every pre- and post-game is spent in a locker room filled with similarly naked teammates, how could he not be used to it by now?

Of course, this is the first time Aomine's tried to wriggle out of his pants while nursing both a first class drunk and a growing hard-on, which makes things much more difficult than expected. He has a belt to claw off from around his waist first, and then some serious pushing to do at the waistband of both his pants and his underwear - Midas' idea of underwear, which look to him like ass-hugging boyshorts, but when you don't have a lot of money or choice...

The tightness proves to be a barrier, seeing as Aomine can't get his clumsy fingers around enough fabric to pull them down and off his hips. ]

[Katze is, to his everlasting credit, doing a good job not laughing. He wonders if he were that awkward, years ago. Decides he wasn't, but only because he'd practiced and isn't that more of a shame than this?]

Taking your pants off shouldn't be this much work. Your dick isn't so much that you can't take them off.

[A little mean. He makes up for it by guiding Aomine's hands away from himself. It means not touching him a moment, but Katze can handle that with what's to come. He slides a hand down the front of what passes for underwear, pulls it out on his wrist and then strips him down with a practiced ease and an almost gentleness to it.

He leaves the pants around his knees, however. It used to be to hobble clients. Now Katze just doesn't want to be bothered with getting them all the way down. And now he looks at the teenager, tongue running absently along his lower lip.]

You're in good shape.

[Also erect, but Katze's gaze says that more than his mouth does. He crawls up, settles on the bed on his knees beside him and gives his cock a few experimental strokes.

At least, before he goes down on him without much preamble. Covering his teeth, not taking too much at once, they are amateur bits of knowledge. He drags his mouth down the length of him, uses his hand to cup his balls and tease the base of his shaft that isn't quite fitting in his mouth yet. His tongue strokes the underside to the tip, and Katze nearly pulls off completely to keep just the head of his cock between his lips.

He looks up. Watches Aomine's face for just a few seconds. Then he repeats the motion with a little twist of his hand.]

[ This whole thing had begun as a teaching experiment. Aomine had told himself back in the bar that he was going to learn a thing, and maybe a little less ignorant for next time, whatever that nebulous next time was. That line of thinking had implied that he expected he would be able to actually pay attention and not mindlessly rock up into skilled hands and against a skilled mouth with nary a thought in his head other than that feels so good.

He is rapidly coming to understand the error in his judgement.

He is just as rapidly revealed to be a partner that is not really quiet at all and not very withdrawn when it comes to showing how he feels. ]

Whoa, shit, that's...nice -

[ His knees and his shoulders bunch up some; he has to lift a hand to press against his mouth a second. ]

Ffffuu...ck...

[ Bare now from the waist down, his pants bunched up where his knees bend over the side of the mattress, he can watch the whole process go down, eyes widening and lips parted in breathless marvel because Aomine isn't small by any means - his dick matches his height and his big hands, unsurprisingly - and Katze just...just like that...

Fuck, and it's so lewd now, the shape of his mouth, the way his lips fit around the head of his dick. It's not a thing that Aomine would have thought would be sexy; girls with bare breasts and short hair are sexy, a woman's rounded hips are sexy, that's all expected. But looking at Katze and feeling Katze at the same time makes his arousal pitch higher, hotter, a solid, breath-stealing punch right in the gut.

Needless to say, his dick only gets harder, swelling quickly and turning a darker, fuller color, a bead of fluid slipping out of him to drip onto Katze's tongue. ]

Edited 2015-02-13 23:17 (UTC)

[The walls are thin. Katze remembers that but he's never more aware of it than when Aomine opens his mouth. It's not too awkward, but Katze's glad they didn't decide to do this in an alley because he really would have attracted some unwanted attention then.

He takes any twitches or hip rolls in stride. One doesn't really forget this skill, he's amused to find out. But learning your partner takes a bit of time so Katze is focusing on Aomine's reactions. Learning what he likes, what he doesn't seem to favor, what draws noises or eases him off.

Katze's gaze says clearly I told you I was good at this as though there had been any doubts before. It's a few more strokes of lips and tongue before Katze can get the impressive cock all the way into his mouth. The tip bumps against the soft palette in his throat, nearly makes him gag but he swallows around the sudden rush of saliva, around the thick cock in his throat now.

He likes that his partner is vocal. That he's appreciative. He swallows the precome too, hums along Aomine's length like it's the best thing in the world. And Katze honestly does enjoy this. Enjoys the sounds and the way his mouth is being used and he can use it.

His cheeks hollow out, he pulls off him in another slow motion and goes back down. Fingers tease the skin of his upper thighs, his balls, that strip of skin before he gets to his hole. Whatever Katze likes, whatever he thinks Aomine will like.

At least Katze goes slowly, tries to give him time to see what he's doing or feel the way he tongues along the ridge of him when he's giving his throat a break. But it's not really a technique even a sober man could imitate and for now Katze's more than content to have his fun.]

[ Things that are true: Aomine would be able to find satisfaction with a Victoria's Secret magazine and a thick sock.

Things that are also true: Aomine can still tell that Katze is fucking good at what he does. His lewd noise of mounting satisfaction rises into an outright shout of surprise and pleasure, because he might be losing it a little but that his throat, isn't it? That's his throat that's closed around him, pressing hotly all around half of his dick, his hums thrumming over his skin and teasing every nerve.

Both hands land in Katze's hair, curling through red strands and holding on for dear life. He grits his teeth against a hitched whine of loss when Katze pulls back, and then presses his head and shoulders back when he comes back down, his thighs going flat and open against the mattress just because he needs to be open, needs to feel more. Katze's hands provide with darting fingers and knowing touches, and Aomine responds with groans of approval, which then, with distressing abruptness, turn into pitched gasps. ]

Hhaaa...ah, ah, sh...it, Katze -

[ There's a little coiling, a quick tightness, right down at the base of his dick. His balls quiver; he feels a knot cinch in his throat.

He knows exactly what it means. ]

Kat...ze, I'm...h-hold--

[ On. Hold on. He does try to say it, and he does try to do that himself, but Aomine is a little late with the request.

He comes in a fluid, startling rush, a few scant minutes into the best blowjob of his life (now that he has something to compare it to); his expression immediately reflects his heartfelt heartbreak over this, even as waves of glorious afterglow wash over him. ]

[Katze can feel tension. He doesn't mind Aomine's hand in his hair, it's grounding. It makes him feel confident in his skill, in his current partner's body.

Katze likes sucking cock. Especially with someone who enjoys it. Part of him isn't used to this. He's used to Pets who he's forcing to get hard again, or to whores who fake their reactions to get it all over with.

Aomine is genuine. Katze finds it is almost painful, how young he is and how inexperienced and how true. He's too lost in that to really keep track of him until the second set of words come. They're not moans, not nonsensical words that settle low and warm in him.

It's too late. The first spurt goes down Katze's throat without conscious effort. Katze swallows reflexively, milks his cock with the slickness of his throat and mouth, drinks down what he offers.

It's a moment before he pulls off. Slowly, with another lick along him. Katze closes his fingers around the softening link just to ease him back. Men don't tend to appreciate their spent dicks being left wet with spit in cold air.]

That was quick. Good for you?

[But Katze doesn't sound accusing. His expression is sweet. Katze pats him, switches his position to nuzzle against his throat.]

It's fine. We can do it again, in? You're young and we have the room for the night if we want.

[ Wow, he...

Swallowed...

He wouldn't have thought that a person would. He's fascinated by the sight and absolutely entranced by the sensation, the ripples of orgasm lasting longer as a result, relaxing his body and soothing his embarrassment at what was obviously a quick shot. His fingers loosen, but slowly, and he's only really got his own thoughts in hand a little bit after Katze pulls off him and moves up next to him instead.

(His hand, too, feels good, and immediately welcome.

He wouldn't have thought of that, either.) ]

Y...eah. Yeah, it was good.

[ He doesn't apologize for the quickness, because Aomine Daiki is not big on apologies, but there's a residual embarrassment hovering around the region of his cheekbones.

Also: there are his surprised eyes again, fitting in with his surprised face. ] Again...?

[ Well, hell.

...is embarrassing to say yes right away? He has no idea. ] I...yeah, I want to. I just need a couple minutes.

[ Aahh, to be young. ]

[Katze gives him a moment to recover and wonders what kind of people bring people like Aomine here. He's not perverse, not experienced. He's young in a way that makes Katze think of Daryl and Cal and makes him hurt somewhere that is buried deep inside him by years or drug use and cynicism because you can't afford to have those feelings on Amoi. Not and survive.

And Katze is a survivor. It's good to know his skills aren't out of date, though he wonders at the novelty of an Elite giving blowjobs to mongrels. For free, even.]

Shh. I won't rush you. It's alright.

[He speaks in gentle tones, nuzzles Aomine's cheek again and then he sits up to start to strip him. Underwear and pants all the way off instead of caught on his knees. Katze's deft fingers run up his sides and examine the shirt. A bit bare, but he expects these things from a mongrel.

Katze is a Furniture. If Aomine knew what that was he'd probably be familiar with the gestures. Soothing, like Aomine is a child. Worse, like he's a Pet, and Katze hates that it's his default to treat something that way. Like they are loved and treasured and cared for, because it makes it all the crueler to pull the rug out from under them when the time comes.

Katze takes off his own shoes, and then he's sitting on the bed stroking that oddly colored hair and taking not so covert glances down his companion's body.]

I could leave, too. After...you're done. I don't expect anything.

[He wants to make that clear.]

How're you feeling? Still just drunk? There were quite a few guys at the bar eyefucking you.

[ This is somehow, out of everything, the most thoroughly unexplored territory for Aomine. The little touches, the gentle, unhurried exploration of Katze's hands, and the way clothes come off, instead of back on, porn and locker room conversations have never insinuated that anything like that would be included with sex, or sex-like activities. You just did it, and...left? That's what he's always thought.

The casual, comfortable intimacy puts to rest more of his anxiety and uncertainty; even half-naked, the sense of relaxation doesn't disappear. Katze's fingers feel good in his hair - who would have thought? Not him, not before tonight - and he ends up using his elbows to scoot up more fully on the mattress, falling back with a small groan. Not for the first time, he watches Katze watching him, and feels a flicker of pride and pleasure; he may be dumb as hell and ignorant to boot, but if there's one thing Aomine knows, it's that he's got a good body.

And he knows a well, as soon as Katze says it, that he doesn't want him to leave. ]

No, stay. I want you to.

[ If anything, that honesty says he's still on the better side of drunk, because saying it reveals a little too much about the softer inner workings of Aomine Daiki.

His hands feel so good, though. The attention feels good.

Which, as well, makes the curl of distaste to his mouth all the more telling. ]

'M fine. And those guys can go fuck themselves.

I'm not like that.

[ Like what? Easy, he thinks. He's not that easy. ]

If they'd started anything I woulda beaten the shit out of them.

[Katze watches for any sign Aomine wants to leave. He's been with enough whores to know that sometimes they're torn between busting out and going to find another fare for the night or wanting your repeat business. Aomine's not a whore, Katze reminds himself, and maybe it's a little sad that's most of what Katze is used to.

Aomine is something special. Something to be pampered (such that a mongrel ever can be) and treasured. He'll learn. Amoi will rip that innocence away and Katze knows there comes a time when you are too tired and too hungry to even care. He has to enjoy what Aomine is in this moment.]

I'll stay, then.

[Gentle, as though his companion is making all the choices. Katze nudges him up a little, to strip his shirt off completely. It gives him more to look at, more to judge him by, and Katze does enjoy looking.

He stretches out beside him. Aomine has him by an inch or two, which is an interesting contrast. Elite indeed. There's a light chuckle at the words. They dispel any lingering thoughts of Elite. Mongrel indeed.]

Watch out for drugs. If Ceres is anything like it was in my day. Unless you want to become like that.

[Sometimes it's easier to do it that way. Aomine isn't beaten down, isn't weak to that. Not yet and hopefully not ever. He's not sure when he became quite so attached, not sure it's healthy, but he huffs out a breath against the mongrel's naked shoulder.]

I'm sure you can take care of yourself but...be harsher than you think you have to be.

[ He's naked again and his other partner is clothed; it had been like that with Nana as well. Even Aomine is not quite ignorant enough to think that that's how things go, because while that might, perhaps, be how it goes with Elites, who seem to go around in resplendent fashions while their Pets wear next to nothing, Katze has said more than once that that's not who or what he is.

Aomine's doubts and wonderings have no concrete form and likely wouldn't even while sober, but they prompt him to roll onto his side, his chin tilted down so he could rest eyes intent on Katze's face, now close against his collarbone.

(How many times has he done that now? He's lost count. He's not sure why he likes looking at him as much as he does.) ]

Yeah. Alright. I'll be careful.

[ He answered him softly, his voice distracted.

He reaches up, and touches the side of Katze's face; not quite on the scar, but close.

He's warm. Like his hands, his face is warm, and he follows the faint curve toward his ear, and sleek, smooth strands of red glide over the back of his palm. ]

For such a tough guy you sure worry a hell of a lot.

[ It's murmured; an observation, not an accusation. ]

[He's still not sure how he feels about Aomine looking at him so much. Katze is used to hiding. Behind a cigarette, behind his hair, in a shadow. He's used to people not wanting to look at him too long.

Aomine says he'll be careful. It's a promise that Katze's not sure he'll keep but you can't force someone to do something. He knows better than to crush the bird before it's flown from his palm, and he hopes he never has to crush it at all.]

I wasn't always so tough. You stay alive by worrying. Advising.

[The touch to his face startles him. There's a kind of wary look in his eyes, like a dog afraid it's about to be struck. But there's no reason to expect that from the teenager, and Katze eventually relaxes into it.]

I was younger and much smaller in Ceres. It skews your view a little, I think.

[Maybe that scar on his face has something to do with it too. Katze is still looking him over, but he at least has the grace to not be looking him over suggestively. For now.]

You'll be fine. I'm sure.

[ Again, that clear evidence of a difficult life, of hard years. They show in more ways than the scar, though it's the most obvious one and less subtle than the fleeting look that shivers through his eyes. Aomine can't know for sure what he saw; he's not a people person, not like Tetsu is, but for a guy that's as comfortable using his hands as Katze is, you would think the opposite would be fine... ]

And you will be, too?

[ It's an awkward sentence, but he means in Eos, in that place where Katze has professed he doesn't belong.

He waits for his answer, though his hand isn't idle. It continues it's journey past his ear, his fingers threading through his hair, and then stroking down to his neck. From there, he follows his back down, as far as he can reach, and then up again to run his palm from his forehead back to the bottom of his skull. Touching, feeling, and exploring for himself, residual warmth pooling in his belly.

He likes how he feels. He likes how he looks.

He's not that way, but -

It's difficult and strange to think about. He decides not to.

He grasps his hair and kisses him, this time just above his brow. ]

I will be fine. I always am.

[Surviving in Eos. In Tanagura. It's almost laughable, in comparison to living in Ceres but he understands what Aomine is asking. Katze's life has always been one of solitude and quiet. This isn't different.]

I lived with Elite. For years. I know how they behave, how I am supposed to behave. I can imitate it.

[If that's the concern Aomine has. It's certainly the concern Katze has because he will never see himself as an Elite. He is a Furniture.

But Aomine is petting him. Through his unevenly cropped hair. Touching his face. Katze still watches him, and the look in amber eyes is always a touch suspicious even if it eases the longer Aomine goes without causing any harm.

This might be some courting ritual. It might be reciprocating affection from the way Katze pet him on the way here.]

You don't have to treat me...like a lover. If that's not what you want.

[But Katze keeps his voice soft. Lets his appreciation show. He's enjoying the gentle touch, as much as he has to resist the urge to overthink it. He's rolling his head into some touches, and Katze's stripped off his overcoat without really thinking about the implications.]

I don't do things I don't want to do.

[ It sounds simple and straightforward when he says it, and more certain than most of what he's said tonight, even if the real answer is more complicated. There's a lot of things in life he did anyway even without really being satisfied with doing them; most of the last two years had been nothing but that, yawning his way into games with a sneer on his face and no excitement anywhere. There'd been so little point to the thing he loved most that everything else had felt just as boring by association, just as pointless. He did things because people made him, or because he might as well have; and when he didn't do that, he did nothing at all.

It's nice to be certain of something again, even his certainty can't really be described or properly expressed, even in his own head. ]

Maybe you should shut up for a little bit.

[ There's bite in that, a thread of hey listen, for real, but it's all softened by alcohol, intimacy, and the tangle of emotions he can feel but certainly can't name. He resumes what he had been doing, all hands and lips, though he's got only a tenth of Katze's skill and about twice his enthusiasm.

They're a little sloppy, the kisses he leaves near and on his ear, on his neck, on his jaw. He's following patterns he's only experienced twice now and, when those run out, he works on instinct and guesses alone.

This leads to a few moments where an elbow is stroked or a clothed shoulder receives a little peck, but each success and failure is meant and honest, and fills the downtime with soft sounds and his own deep blush.

Maybe, at some point, he'll chase that caution out of Katze's eyes. He doesn't like it, though he can't say why, ]

[It does sound so basic, coming from him. He doesn't do what he doesn't want to do. Katze's life has been doing things he doesn't want to do for the ultimate goal of surviving, but that pales and it's not as though he resents it because, really, what would he have done otherwise?

He relaxes, bit by bit. Aomine kisses him and pets him. It's a clumsy, young effort but one Katze appreciates. It makes him feel cherished, cared for, like he really is someone's lover and he didn't just hire someone for the night, or someone's not using him for something better.]

Shutting up, then.

[It's difficult. Katze's always felt he doesn't have so much to offer so he speaks. When he's silent, it's because he's outmatched or because he's wanting to be threatening.

He kisses Aomine instead. Doesn't take control but guides him into an easier pace, teaches him how to kiss properly without licking your partner's face. The little fumbles make him smile, fondly, because it's so endearing it makes him hurt.

His own hands move. Touch Aomine's hair, trace a finger down his neck. He palms his ass at one point just because he can, then rests his palm against his tailbone. His partner really is as good as he looks, toned and smooth and strong. An unruined body and Katze can definitely enjoy that as he enjoys the touches.

His eyes do lose that cautious look. They become heavier, more dazed. A pleasant shiver runs through his body and his breath starts catching. It feels good, better than Katze thought it would.]

[ It surprises him, how pleasant it all is, even the things he wouldn't have expected. It doesn't matter where Katze's hands go, or where he takes his own; all of it's enjoyable, each touch thrilling or soothing or warming in their own particular ways. Below the belt earns a little surprise, yeah, but it doesn't last, the last of his overt embarrassment and tension dying quietly and easily. He sighs and breathes and listens to his own heart, that subtle pounding, and imagines that he can feel Katze's too, when he presses his hands to his back, or to his chest.

He watches him the whole time. He watches his face change, little by little. It's hard still, sharpened by everything he's been through, but as it eases, Aomine feels himself ease as well, and in the end, a faint grin pulls at his mouth. ]

That's better.

[ He's pleased. He's pleased, and he's happy, and he's hot again, excitement winding tight in the pit of his stomach. His hands migrate back up to Katze's face and clasp his cheeks; he feels the scar press against his palm, but he doesn't flinch, and keeps his touch gentle. ]

You look better like this.

[ How, why? Hell, he doesn't know. He's stopped worrying. ]

I like it.

[ By now, he's shifting restlessly under another burgeoning erection, his dick pressing lightly against Katze's thigh. Knowing now how good it's going to be, eagerness is quick to take hold in his chest, and his slow motions pick up some, and he returns that kiss from earlier with one of his own, his tongue pressing forward in his excitement. ]

What's better?

[Katze's a little lost, and that's dangerous. If someone burst through the door and wanted to fight, he could handle it no problem. But if someone burst through the door and he needed a lie to keep them both safe? He's not certain his brain can function well enough for that. Fortunately that doesn't seem to be what's about to happen.

Aomine answers him without really intending to, it seems. He looks different? But Katze's sure he looks less like a wild animal might leap on him and more like he's enjoying this. Less wary, less cautious, and Katze normally isn't a cautious person because his life is without value, but his companion's isn't and the teenager is in his care, as far as he's concerned.

He tips his head into the touch at his cheek. It's deep, going from his jaw up to disappear into his hairline, narrowly missing his eye.]

Good to know you're ranking me on my attractiveness.

[He's teasing. And Aomine certainly finds him attractive enough, judging by his cock filling out again, nudging against Katze's thigh. He shifts so he can rub against it, runs his hands over Aomine's hips and thighs and gives him a few teasing strokes.

The kisses are getting better as Aomine gets more practice but they are also still sweet, raw, something genuine that Katze enjoys accepting and returning in kind. He coaxes his tongue out, strokes it with his own. He can feel Aomine's heart, and less and less he's suspicious Aomine is doing this out of some obligation.]

You want another blowjob this time?

[But he pairs the question with a nibble down his jaw and to his throat. Used to moving things along quickly, perhaps.]

[ Aomine can't think up a sexy or cool way to say "Your face" in regards to Katze's question, and so he doesn't, but he shows it with his hand and another soft scattering of kisses near his jaw when he's not busy letting their mouths meld and press together. It's followed by a laugh and a second, more confident grin, bolstered by good feelings and his lingering buzz.

Aomine's been a smug show-off plenty of times - about basketball.

This is perhaps the first time he's going to roll a little onto his back again, only one arm under him, and grin openly. It's maybe the first time he's been openly proud about his body, instead of simply proud and immeshed in the things he could do with it. ]

Don't act big. You like the way I look, too.

[ Which is in and of itself a tacit admission that Aomine does, in fact, find Katze attractive, no matter how much he thinks that that's not how he rolls. He doesn't think about it now, either, instead humming out low approval and shivering as his face gets hot again. Excitement bubbles up, stronger than before, and twice as curious; the way Katze says it, it implies to him - ]

What else is there?

[ The question is a bit TOO eager, and his face darkens, but now that he's started to ask he can't stop. ]

What else can you show me?

[ Aomine has been on the internet long enough to have a solid idea of "what else", but Katze's done this shit, not just read or watched it, and that kernel of respect from earlier is growing into something faintly tinged by trust. ]

[Katze is happy to meet the kisses, gently and affectionately except for the rare skimming of teeth over his skin. Aomine is sweet, and even if Katze knows he's trying to reassure him in touches, it works because Katze doesn't often get a lot of tender treatment.

He nuzzles into his companion's throat, makes him tip his head so Katze can lick and suck and bite at his neck. e might have a few tender places but at least Katze isn't out to cause any bruises. And he chuckles when Aomine leans back, displays himself in a way that is very not trained.]

I do like the way you look. I don't make a secret about that.

[But he's not damaged property. Katze at very least doesn't point that out and kill the mood. Instead he starts to pay attention to Aomine's chest, his shoulders, his collarbone.

He glances up with amber eyes that have a bit of mischief in them because there is quite a bit more than blowjobs but he imagines he should make it rather basic. Of course there are also things Katze is lacking just a bit.]

Handjobs, obviously. Blowjobs with something inside you. Being fingered. Fucking me. Fucking against me...

[Not being fucked, of course, but Katze at least feels he has a nice set of skills to maybe offer him. He combs his fingers lightly through his companion's hair and smiles at him, rather than smirks.]

Whatever you want.

[Even if Katze's fingers are currently wrapped around his cock, pumping him or stroking with just the pads of his fingers, all together familiarizing himself with this bit of anatomy.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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