Okay. ::hides:: This one is really odd, and sprung up from my fascination/unbridled love for Nii Jieni. You know. The freaky guy with the bunny. ... Don't hurt me for this one. ;_;

Of Sex and Bunnies


Though it was incredibly nice to sprawl yourself out against your lover in a post coital daze of pleasure and satisfaction, Nii Jieni had a few momentary problems. One, his chosen lover was not the type of person he trusted for long enough to even let his mind wander to thoughts of sprawling.

Two, a miniature toy fire truck was stabbing him in the ass.

He shifted with a little groan, one hand reaching out to begin the search for his glasses. It was near impossible to locate them in the mess of stuffed animals and child's toys that served as his bed at the moment.

At one point, his hand closed in a familiar grip around the leg of a stuffed bunny.

"You are not the only one, Nii Jieni, who enjoys the company of a bunny in your bed at night," said a familiar wry voice, made hoarse and husky from that night's activities. Well. He had a point there. At least, they were both sensible enough to search out other bed-mates on some occasions -- fuzzy, a bunny was, but as warm and as satisfying as another body it was not.

He felt a hand rove thoughtfully over his thigh, felt hot breath on the back of his neck, felt the presence of that other body lean up against his side. Appropriately, he abandoned the search for his glasses. It was no longer necessary to have them.

"Kami-sama," he purred softly, aiming to please the swollen up pride he loved to toy with, and succeeding just as he had planned. He had never been a man who protested the loss of power; he did not mind giving up his own pride to play with that of his lover. And his lover truly adored the sound of that name. Kami-sama enjoyed playing God both in battle and in bed.

Nii Jieni had no problem with complying.

As long as he could lick his own lips and taste the candied sweetness of his lover's mouth, he had no complaints.

It was dark in the room and he felt, rather than saw, those claiming hands roam over his own bared flesh, tracing some unknown, thoughtful path against his skin. Kami-sama was, he noted after a moment of study, trailing the roadway, the network of veins that stood out a faint green-blue against his pale flesh.

Following them as they ran straight to the center of his chest.

He let the other do as he wished, letting his tongue run over his own lips to lick the sticky sweet of two things from that kiss-bruised flesh. "Aa..." he heard himself rumble deep inside his throat. As if the feel of those fingers - something about their inevitable curiosity, their quest to conquer - pleased him, though almost nothing could please him anymore.

Those questing, questioning fingers halted, one hand pressed up over the slow, lazy heartbeat inside of Jieni's chest. The other curled around his hipbone and squeezed lightly, fitting against soft pink fingerprints faded from red on that pale skin. Kami-sama liked to mark things as his own; Jieni had long since stopped caring about pain. It worked out very well. Not to mention the puzzle-piece way their bodies fit together, or the rhythm that they made against the soft stuffing of the toys beneath.

Kami-sama tasted sugary sweet all over. It was one of those things he had noticed after a while, one of those things he enjoyed about times like these. About the lips that claimed and tasted and in turn left a wide open space for him to explore and plunder as he liked.

So long as the blonde was atop him, so long as the blonde man had control over his lover, there was really nothing they couldn't, or wouldn't, do.

Jieni could honestly say that yes, yes, he liked that sort of freedom very much.

He felt one hand lift to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing thoughtfully over the stubble on his chin and above his lip, over a little cut he had made shaving the other day. A forefinger ran over the bridge of his nose; an index finger traced the line of his cheekbone in interested silence. He let his eyes flutter shut as Kami-sama searched his face for something, although it was something he wasn't sure his face could show. As one candy-sweet finger slipped between his lips, he took it eagerly into his mouth, suckling hungrily at the sugar lingering on that already delicious flesh.

"...Nii...Jieni..." the other whispered, voice low and gruff. Jieni himself chose not to answer. His hands lifted, tangled in the soft-as-silk, golden-as-sun hair that fell into his lover's eyes, over his forehead, casting deep, alluring shadows over his captivating face.

Jieni liked to look at him. He liked to admire his features, although there was nothing conventionally attractive about them. Perhaps, then, that was what tempted him so much. He himself was not terribly good looking; it was the lounge in his body, the amusement in his eyes, the scruffy carelessness of his midnight-black hair and the scrappy insouciance that hung around him like an aura that attracted Kami-sama to him. Somehow, their appearances caused the two of them to enjoy each other's company just enough to -- well, to fuck like rabid bunnies every night.

The thoughtful hand rand through Jieni's spiky, mussed locks, fluffing them up a bit; he could feel Kami-sama smile against his lips.

"Have you ever heard of a brush or a comb...?" he muttered softly against the other's lips. The hand on the man's hip moved over just slightly, a torturous tickle against more sensitive places.

"Have you ever heard me tell you that your mouth is much nicer when it's shut?" he snapped back, hips lifting into the light little touch. Kami-sama, this felt good.

"I could say the same to you." There was silence after that, silence except for the sound of their lips and tongues warring with each other, hungry and fierce, sucking at the sweetness on the other's mouth. Jieni slipped and shifted, sinking back into the bed made of both incredibly soft and incredibly damn poky items; the blonde's hands moved again, this time between the both of his legs, spreading them quickly.

In one swift motion he had thrust inside.

He gave no warning; he never did.

Jieni waited for one moment, biting down on Kami-sama's lower lip instead of on his own. And then, he allowed himself to cry out - one low, harsh, gasping sound, which his lover ate up into his own mouth eagerly. Kami-sama loved to make the other scream. And so Nii Jieni would cry himself hoarse, simply because he loved the pleased light in those haunted eyes. His lover was too pompous for his own good. It was oh-so appetizing; it was the perfect game for Jieni to play.

For he was no one's puppet.

For he was no one's toy.

He felt the familiar hand close around his neck - not too tight, and yet too tight for comfort - and he knew there would be marks there in the morning. A thumb stroked his Adam's apple, coaxing him to sound once more. After a harsh laugh that mingled with a deep growl, Jieni parted his lips, cried out, again and again and again until he heard the rumble of pleasure that started in the back of his lover's throat. Jieni lifted his hands, clasped them against Kami-sama's shoulders, legs spreading to clench around the other's waist.

It was not a power play, after all; Kami-sama knew his errant lover had given up all in the very beginning.

No, it was nothing of the sort. It was the clenching of muscles and the focries past Kami-sama's sugar frosted lips; it was the body beneath that wielded all the unspoken power of the sweat-hours, despite what the blonde man thought. And that was the way Nii Jieni liked it.

There was a thrusting and a bucking of both hips, a mingling of both cries, a rocking rhythm of both bodies. It was like a dance but neither of them had danced before. It was always dark and cold in that somber room, except on these nights where flames threatened to engulf them both whole. To Jieni, it was all a fantastic joke; warmth from the cold, power to those thought to be powerless. It would have made him laugh, were he not crying out again and again into the thickened air, were his torn up insides not being slammed into over and over, filling him with that wonderful pleasure and that glorious pain.

He fell back against their makeshift bed, the last cry already forced past his lips. His black hair flopped carelessly over his eyes, hiding their darkened, satiated glint; his body, at least, was weary but happy, basking in that golden warmth.

Something sweet was pressed against his lips. "Bite," that husky voice commanded, and Jieni was too tired to disobey. His lips parted and his teeth bit down; there was a crunch, and cinnamon cookie and frosting filled his senses. "How appropriate," the voice purred against his ear, "you bit the head off first."

"How ingenious," Jieni shot back, voice lazy and thick, "Gingerbread men after a good fuck." He allowed himself a laugh, and Kami-sama soon joined him, the sound ringing out as their cries had just done a moment before in that silent room.

This time was different. It was the end of their activities, he knew. As always, firm arms wrapped around Jieni's waist, one leg thrown possessively over one of his own. "Sleep tight," Kami-sama half said, half sung, "and don't let the bedbugs bite."

"What bugs?" Jieni mumbled, lips curving into a grin even as he felt sleep tugging insistently at him. "Oh, that's right, you must mean the fire truck."

Nothing else was said after that.

Tomorrow, Nii Jieni would find his glasses and clean himself off, dress, and go back to work as normal. Kami-sama would pretend he was not awake, was not watching his lover's lithe form stretch and dress before him. That was the way it had been, the way it always would be. (Until, at least, they grew entirely sick of each other.)

For now, there was only the warmth of the two sex-drunk bodies pressed up together, no one to see them, and no one to care about the earthly pleasures they indulged themselves in.

Except, perhaps, the stuffed bunny that had been placed oh-so-carefully in the center of the room at the beginning of the night, its black button eyes trained upon the dark haired man, and his lover beside him. Little bunny lips were curved up, as always, into a little bunny smile.

Alive, or dead, or neither - there was room enough for all. And oh, was it good.