Warning: Explicit sexual situation, language, probably a little OOC.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bakuman.
Authoress Note: I know you all were wondering when it would come. xD Of course I have to make a smut out of every fandom I write about, so here you go. I hope it's hot and dirty, the way you like it. ;D
It was so hot.
That was all that Mashiro could think. It was incredibly stifling in his uncle's apartment, so much that he could barely concentrate on his art. In fact, he was more worried about sweating on it than anything else.
The windows were open, but that seemed to let more heat in than actually contribute to cooling the room down and Mashiro was close to just calling it a day and taking his stuff home to work in an environment where the air conditioning wasn't broken.
He heard a crinkling to his left, and he turned his head lazily in the direction of the noise.
"Shujin, what are you—?"
His question was answered and his throat was suddenly parched.
There Takagi was, pushing a Popsicle past his lips with a look of pure ecstasy. It was bright red and looked so cold, so good sliding into the other boy's mouth.
"Hmm…?" Takagi drawled out, turned around, and was met with a look that was particularly rabid for his friend. Mashiro's gaze was directed low towards his frozen confection and Takagi suddenly got the feeling that if he didn't share, Mashiro would jump him, driven crazy by the heat.
"You want some?"
Mashiro nodded, probably more eagerly than necessary with his sweaty, dark hair failing in his eyes. He got up and went over to where Takagi sat and took the frozen treat into his hands and the other boy watched with mild amusement.
The moment the Popsicle hit Mashiro's mouth, it was heaven. The cold, sweet juice trickled down his parched throat and he took it in as much as he could, not even caring in the least bit that the Popsicle was last in his friend's mouth. He wrapped his tongue around its sticky-sweet coldness and slid it in and out of his mouth, trying to get it to melt faster, though it was already melting at a pretty quick rate.
Takagi stared. He didn't know what else to do; the amusement he felt was long gone and was now replaced with something warmer and darker. Saiko was deep-throating his Popsicle, he could only think. And the fact that the boy didn't even realize he was doing it somehow made the image more erotic.
He could only stare as the phallus-shaped treat glided in and out of his friend's mouth. Mashiro's tongue, pink but turning red, darted around the sides, before coming back to the top to lick the melting tip. And then in one long, languid motion, his swelling lips slid down the entire side to lap up the thick base.
His first thought was, "Man, if only Miyoshi would do something like that to me!"
But soon enough, the image was replaced with Mashiro and Takagi began to feel hotter, so much more uncomfortable than before. A strange, but familiar heat settled in his body, opening up his sweat glands and making his mouth dry. The image wouldn't change and Takagi awkwardly pulled on his shirt collar to get more air, but his efforts were futile.
Most of the heat he felt resided in his pants, which were steadily supporting a protruding bulge.
Takagi's gaze turned hazy and dark and he could only stare at the sweat rolling down his friend's tan neck. Mashiro's lips were painted bright red and he stared at the occasional bulging of the boy's flushed, hallowed cheeks. Takagi swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bulging, and he squirmed uncomfortably.
Countless imagines ran through his mind, mostly dealing with what Mashiro was sucking, which only made the incessant heat in his groin grow. The blonde tried to redirect his gaze, lower, but it landed on Saiko's shorts, which was about as worse as it could go. Mashiro's shorts had bunched up when he sat down so eagerly for the Popsicle and Takagi was given a teasing glimpse of the boy's smooth, tan thighs which shone slightly from sweat.
Frowning, Takagi eventually settled his gaze back on Mashiro's mouth, as painful as that was, and he wondered when his friend had turned so sexual.
"Hey, leave some for me, Saiko," he called a little awkwardly and tried to shift to make the pain of his growing erection a little more bearable.
Mashiro stopped and blushed, but that seemed to be because he realized he was hogging it and not what he was doing.
"Sorry," he mumbled, "here."
He handed it back and looked down at his hand, which had some Popsicle juice still residing on his fingers. He then did the cruelest thing Takagi thought he could have done at the moment; he licked them.
Not like a normal person, but it seemed to Takagi like it was in an incredibly erotic way. His tongue slowly wrapped around a sticky, drying finger and he took his sweet time as though savoring every bit.
The action hit a deep spot in the writer's loins and he felt his erection pulse at the thought.
"You okay, Shujin?" Mashiro asked, noticing that Takagi had yet to touch the Popsicle he had relinquished back to the blonde and was, in fact, staring at him.
"Yeah, fine," he mumbled, but in all actuality, he wasn't. He honestly had no desire to eat the treat now, thanks to Saiko. He wanted nothing more than to watch his friend devour it like it was what Takagi was imagining it was (man, this heat was making him horny).
"I don't think I want it now, though," he said, honestly, handing the confection back to his friend. "You can have the rest."
Mashiro looked at him skeptically.
"Okay, your loss."
And the action was repeated. Takagi tried his best to contain himself, but it was so hard, watching those gorgeous lips take in the phallic ice.
He was so hard, watching those gorgeous lips take in the phallic ice.
It was straining against the seam of his khakis (such a horrible material to wear when getting a boner) and it was amazing that Mashiro hadn't noticed yet. His body temperature felt ten degrees hotter than the temperature outside, making the burning in his loins all that much painfully sweeter.
He felt like his erection would burst from the crotch of his pants, so it was really no wonder that he did it. As discretely as he could, his hand snuck down and rubbed flat against his pulsating manhood.
It felt so good, dirty, arousing and all of the best things he could think of at the moment. He was touching himself in Saiko's presence, a wet dream come true. The pleasure was reverberating down to his toes and he fought the moan that was struggling to escape his lips. His cheeks became flushed with arousal and his whole body became even warmer, threatening to erupt with the heat and pleasure.
When it appeared that Mashiro was too enraptured in his treat (he had his eyes closed after all) to take much notice in what Takagi was doing, the blonde tried to take advantage of that by gripping his manhood firmly and he stroked himself roughly through the fabric of his pants and boxers.
It was too much; he couldn't help imagining that Saiko's Popsicle was his own arousal and the image turned him on so much, he let out a half-muffled, breathy moan.
Mashiro's eyes snapped open, suddenly no longer lost in his fantasy world of polar bears and sweets.
"Shujin, what are you—?" He didn't need to finish the sentence. It was painfully obvious what his friend was doing.
Takagi shook out of his aroused daze with shock and horror and looked embarrassedly down at his still throbbing erection.
He was still horny and he felt like a pervert. He wasn't sure what bothered him worse.
Takagi looked back up at Mashiro, who was staring at him with his mouth slightly open in confusion and with puffy lips that looked so inviting. It must have been the heat that made him snap, it must have been, because in an instant, the sultry look the blonde formerly possessed was being shot at Mashiro and he, bold as always, slowly unzipped his pants.
The command and the action that preceded it caught the artist by surprise. What the hell was Shujin doing? But the voice Takagi spoke in was dead serious, husky, filled with want, and Mashiro found his throat becoming dry. The heat must have seriously screwed with them.
The artist turned the other way with a blush so he wouldn't have to see the spectacle he knew Takagi was going to perform, but began to suck on the Popsicle anyway.
"No, face me," the writer said somewhat breathily. Mashiro could hear fabric being removed and as though added as an afterthought, he said, "You can close your eyes if you want to."
Mashiro slowly turned towards the writer, but before he closed his eyes he saw Takagi's erection bob up from underneath his boxers. It was pretty average-length, but thicker than Mashiro expected. The head was already shining with the pearly liquid of his precum and it twitched, turgid and wanting.
The artist shut his eyes just in time to see a hand wrap around the appendage.
Mashiro tried to concentrate on his Popsicle, he did, but he could hear fabric rustling and soft sighs to his left and he couldn't help but wonder what Takagi looked like mid-masturbation.
The thought was getting him unusually hard.
He felt all sort of heat that wasn't there before radiating from below his hips to every pore in his body. He was curious and the Popsicle was almost gone anyway so Mashiro couldn't help opening his eyes again.
And was met with Takagi staring dead at him with half-opened, lusty eyes.
There was something there; something electric passed between them, arousing and shocking, but incredibly hot. It was like oil, igniting the flame and slinking between them.
So it was no surprise that Mashiro devoured the rest of the Popsicle, threw the stick away, and reached down to cup the bulge that was growing in his pants.
"Mmm," Takagi murmured, arching into himself more, "do that Saiko. Touch yourself."
The words were so dirty, Mashiro couldn't help but blush, but the whole situation was like that, wasn't it? The crazy heat wave had somehow turned into an incredibly intimate situation and the artist was still a little apprehensive. He and Shujin were close, but he never would have imagined doing anything sexual in his presence. Yet, he found himself doing it anyway, the situation was so alluring. He reached down, undid his pants, fumbling with the button, and slid down his boxers. He bit his lip and looked back at Takagi to see the boy's reaction.
The writer was still staring at him with that hazy, lustful expression. His glasses were even slightly fogged and that look made his cock throb a little, so he wrapped a sweaty hand around it and mimicked Takagi's actions.
Takagi groaned, thrusting a little more vigorously to what the artist was doing.
"I want you to…ah…talk to me…"
Talk? Shujin wanted to talk?
Takagi must have caught the artist's incredulous expression because he chuckled, deeply, and Mashiro felt a shiver go down his spine.
"I mean talk dirty…I'll return...ngh...the favor…Just say what you want to do right now…anything…"
Again, he expected Mashiro to do this? The boy whose mind was almost as innocent as a maiden's? What was he supposed to say? Mashiro swallowed harshly and looked at Takagi a little fearfully. What did he want? He blushed at the thought of it.
"Mmm…I want to f-fuck…Shujin's hand…" God, he was burning up. He couldn't think straight. Did he really just say that?
Judging from Takagi's shocked expression, he did. But that quickly changed back to lustful, feral-ness it held.
"Are you sure you don't…want me to fuck you?" He said with a sly smile that made Mashiro shudder inwardly with pleasure. He gripped his cock harder.
"M-maybe…" It should have been impossible to be that warm.
"I bet you'd be…pretty tight, huh? But…I'd get all the way…inside of your…hot, wanton body…"
They both increased their paces.
"Thrusting harder every time…pounding you into this couch…with you screaming into the cushions…"
Mashiro shut his eyes, strangely lost in the fantasy. He knew Takagi was the writer for some reason.
"Screaming my name and…ah…moaning for more…"
He was so hot imagining something like that inside of him. Big and thick and so real.
"…Like a slut….greedy, wanting, and begging, but so tight…"
And Mashiro's eyes shot open when his hand was suddenly moved aside and a pair of warm lips descended on his cock.
He gasped and arched up off of the couch when it happened (because god, he never expected that) and dug his nails into the cushions. It was incredible, so wet, and so hot. He never knew anything could feel that good. His mind was in heaven and he couldn't hold on much longer. With a scream of pure euphoria he met his climax almost painfully and shot his cum down his best friend's throat.
Takagi choked a little, but swallowed dutifully and met his own climax shortly after.
They were both spent as hell and Takagi rested his head on Mashiro's stomach, breathless, lacking the ability to move or at least clean himself up.
That seemed to sum up the situation pretty well.
As for Mashiro, he was far too tired to feel the embarrassment he knew would inevitably come. He was still dazed and happy from his orgasm and the heat was making him even more tired.
His eyes started to drift close when he heard:
And that was Takagi still on his stomach with his arms wrapped around the boy's bare hips. Didn't he realize it was far too hot to be that close together?
The writer grinned, looking up into Mashiro's half-asleep gaze.
"Let's do that again some time."
Mashiro frowned because he didn't like the sound of that and he knew there was something about the sentence that was kind of dangerous but his mind was too full of cotton to follow. So he responded with an insult.
And he fell asleep.
A/N: -giggles- God, I'm so horrible. xD Please review.