|Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This
Author: Hedonistic Opportunist PM
Only that, for some reason, Sai feels that it isn't without meaning.Rated: Fiction M - English - Sai - Words: 866 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 1 - Published: 07-15-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5220902
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Move on.
Warning(s): Masturbation. Implied BL/shounen-ai. Present tense. Odd writing with off-putting imagery (yes, that does warrant a warning!)
He pulls his zipper down with a ripping sound that steals through the room like a mouse-chasing cat. But it doesn't end there because with deft fingers – well-practised in running a paintbrush through soft paper – Sai pushes the trousers past his knees, and stepping out of them, leaves them there on the floor (to rot, to lie among the growing collection of clothes already assembled there).
He's only dressed in his boxers, and feels goosebumps forming on his back; his shoulders narrow, and Sai's arms curl around his chest as something chilly-cool runs down his back.
The window is open, and, as he cares to look towards its direction, he sees the moon fixed up there on the sky the way you'd pin a picture on the wall. Green and lustreless in appearance, it doesn't offer him much other than his room as well as his body being bathed in a sickly greenish-yellow hue that makes his already pale skin look whiter than white.
Naruto once said that Sai reminded him of a corpse (like one of those bodies you drag out from a freshly dug grave, so that the hawks can ascend down onto your carcass, and pluck out your eyes from their sockets, feasting on them like overzealous kids who've just been presented with an inexhaustible amount of chocolate bars).
"Naruto," he whispers out loud, and his voice echoes back at him from the newly-painted light blue wall, the dustless furniture and the other things in his room which bear no meaning to him.
(This is just a room. A room he occupies for a few hours, and leaves when he has to).
Sai lies down on the bed, hears it creak under his weight and sighs. The bedsheets brush against his skin as he shifts, searching for comfort that he can't find. The mattress is too hard, Sai reasons. He'll have to buy a softer one the next time he goes shopping.
He tries to close his eyes, but the drowsy light-headedness of sleep does not come over him. Instead, the wheels in Sai's brain are turning and, while they're turning, Naruto's name finds itself on his lips again. Also, for no reason at all, this makes Sai shudder and his heart beat wildly against his ribcage.
And so, he starts touching himself, cautiously at first but then – the need overtaking his cautiousness – he starts pumping faster.
Hands around one's cock feel good, Sai thinks, and categorises this new experience and wonders whether Naruto feels so too, whether he is also doing this right now and whether he's also thinking of someone (Sasuke, perhaps?).
Spurred on by that name, Sai's fingers clench tighter around himself – he knows so many names for it (manhood, length, penis, appendage and other fancy terms that books have whispered into his ears) – and he hisses out. There's this tightening feel in his stomach, and it's growing and growing. He feels he must continue or the expansion inside of him, which also makes him feel so inexplicably light, will burst.
While his hand is running up and down his hardness, Sai's brain whirls out images of Naruto, and they appear before his eyes like fireflies dancing on a starlit night. With the speed of a motorcycle dashing from location to location, Sai sees images floating before him; images he can't touch, but that he can't escape from either.
(Images of him smiling, images of his blue eyes ablaze with something that he can't identify but that makes Sai feel giddy, nevertheless)
Sai groans as he feels the expansion inside of him grow (grow, and expand and expand and grow) and then explode until it's gone. The only thing left from this dizzying experience is the – Sai removes his hand from his groin, carefully inspecting it – the semen.
(Everything is scientific. Has to be because if it isn't that it just becomes too confusing - and that's never productive).
Nothing has changed.
And, like this room he inhabits for a few hours each day consisting of empty furniture and the windows that present him a sombre moon gazing at everything with hollow, sunken eyes, this act - masturbation, the books call it- should be meaningless.
Only that, for some reason, Sai feels that it isn't without meaning.
And then laughs, though none of this is really funny at all.
ETA: For some mild inane reason, I felt like inserting Ryuuk here and saying something like "humans are so interesting" (please ignore me, I'm on a DN high). I'm not precisely sure why I wrote Naruto fic again. I think it was a momentary lapse of reason or simply because I've never written about this character before. If I failed really badly, then please forgive me?
Comments, rotten apples or anything is appreciated?