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Kiroranke, half-awake, had become aware of the fact that someone was crouched over his prone form. As slowly as he could, he’d managed to grasp the hilt of his hunting knife, while the person remained close to him, but otherwise still. Then he opened his eyes and completely froze as he made direct eye contact with Ogata, who was half-crouched above him, face hovering over Kiroranke’s armpit.
“Uh-”
“This isn’t about you.” Ogata immediately stated. Movement in the corner of his eye, and Kiroranke glanced down to see Ogata palming himself through the front of his pants. The grip on his knife relaxed slightly as it seemed Ogata wasn’t planning on stabbing him in the night. His eyes slid back up to Ogata’s.
“Oh yeah?”
His head tilts and those blank eyes bore into Kiroranke’s own. This wasn’t the first time Ogata had propositioned him. That line was a familiar one, accompanied by Ogata’s usual perfunctory behaviour during their encounters, but Kiroranke didn’t really know what he meant this time, other than the fact he seemed a little fixated on his… armpit? So Kiroranke shrugged and left his arm were it lay above his head, having slipped out of his sleeve in the night (or was that Ogata’s doing?), and decided to let Ogata indulge in whatever this might be.
He watched as Ogata took a beat, then leant in, eyelids sliding shut in a distinctly cat-like way as his face practically disappeared into the thick, dark hair that covered his armpit. Kiroranke started – that really hadn’t been what he was expecting – but let Ogata continue, curious as to what was about to unfold.
At the first inhale his whole body seemed to relax into the ground, resting in a way Kiroranke didn’t think he’d ever seen before. The weight of his head rested more heavily in Kiroranke’s armpit, and while it wasn’t a sensation he’d really felt before there was something oddly enticing about it. Ogata sighed into his skin, and pushed even closer, like he somehow wanted to disappear into the forest of hair. Although they had bathed somewhat recently, the cold weather meant that whenever Kiroranke sweat, he just had to let it happen, as removing any layers was to risk death. So he couldn’t imagine the smell would be all that great, but then, repetitive movement indicated Ogata had started masturbating again.
Kiroranke didn’t really know what to make of it. There was something erotic about the long, lean line of Ogata’s body tucked against him, one knee pushed up so he had room to continue to rub at himself. Practically just using Kiroranke’s body as some form of assist in jerking off, like he was barely relevant to the equation; he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something arousing about Ogata’s detachment. But he’d never exactly done… this before. Wasn’t really aware that it was something a man could crave as much as Ogata did, apparently unable to hold off for long before succumbing to his desire and burying his face in the pit of another man in the dead of night. He half-smiled at that thought – even someone like Ogata, who claimed to be above impulsive behaviours, had his own vice.
The second Kiroranke took his gaze off Ogata, staring up at the interior of the tent, content to let Ogata breathe as deeply as he wanted for a while, he jolted in surprise at the sensation of Ogata’s mouth opening, wet and warm, directly against his skin. He couldn’t help the small gasp in response. It was so much more sensitive than he would have guessed; the sudden drag of his tongue over his skin had his hips shifting, back arching.
Kiroranke thought he felt Ogata smile at that, way too smug for his own good, a hand coming to rest on Kiroranke’s broad stomach through the opening in his clothes. His body involuntarily shivered as Ogata laid his tongue thick and slow over Kiroranke’s armpit, lapping at it like he had all the time in the world, and not like their bedmates could wake up at any second. His arm kept twitching, bicep flexing, like it couldn’t decide whether or not to push Ogata away or remain laid back so he could keep offering this strange pleasure.
Okay, maybe he understood where Ogata was coming from. Oddly, it reminded him a little of his first blowjob – a long distant memory of suddenly receiving a whole lot of new sensation in an area that hadn’t been touched that way before. His cock, previously uninterested, was slowly coming to life under his layers. It was like Ogata was trying to eat out his armpit, his tongue moving from broad strokes to just the tip of it tracing over his skin, goosebumps rising on Kiroranke’s arm. The way there seemed to be different areas that were more sensitive than others, ones that Ogata was already intimately aware of, drove Kiroranke mad.
Soon, he became aware of another sensation too – Ogata’s hand on his stomach had begun moving slowly, caressing the lower curve of his belly almost reverently. His hand squeezed the flesh, groping him in a way that had him feeling mildly embarrassed. Kiroranke’s only point of comparison was the way he would grab someone’s ass or tits, but it was his own stomach that was getting attention now, like Ogata desired the weight of his belly as much as he desired those other traits.
Sighing (a little too-high pitched for his liking), Kiroranke felt overwhelmed at the focus Ogata was dealing him. He lifted one knee up to let the blanket fall off him partially, trying to regulate his temperature. Without even skipping a beat, Ogata pulled the blanket down the rest of the way, lifted his head from Kiroranke’s armpit and immediately pushed it between his now spread legs. Kiroranke’s hips jolted as they felt his face press right between the gaps of his ruunpe and up against his fundoshi.
A low sound in Kiroranke’s throat, his hips pushed against Ogata’s face and his hand rested on the back of his head. His head was still spinning from before, his whole body oversensitive, but at least this was something familiar.
Until Ogata didn’t make any moves to press that tongue that had been so skilfully tasting every inch of his armpit against his cock. Instead, Ogata just held his nose close to the skin, inhaling deeply like he did before. Maybe his brain had just melted a little too much, but Kiroranke didn’t know why he continued to let it happen, Ogata just taking… whatever it was he was getting from this, but Kiroranke found he really didn’t want to stop him at all.
The hand that had been groping his stomach tugged down the cloth of his fundoshi, freeing his half-hard cock, but again, Ogata made no actual move to directly touch it at all. Instead, Kiroranke felt his nose pushing closer through the unruly hair that surrounded it, breathing in even deeper than before. He grunted as he felt the weight of his balls shift to, what felt like, lying over Ogata’s face, the man seemingly content to be buried underneath them.
The irony wasn’t lost on Kiroranke as Ogata refused to use his mouth on the one area he should, Ogata’s hand seemingly jerking himself off faster now that he was buried under the weight of Kiroranke’s cock and balls. His other hand had resumed groping Kiroranke’s belly, rubbing up and down the broad shape of it, fingers spreading as wide as they could over it before squeezing tight, like Ogata was testing out the size and shape of it.
Shifting his hips, Kiroranke rubbed against Ogata’s face slightly, forcing his nose deeper into his hair, cock bobbing above him. Almost instantly, Ogata exhaled, all drawn out and shaky against his skin. Kiroranke looked down just in time to see him finish, his hand moving erratically as cum pumped out onto the ground.
Seemingly satisfied, Ogata made to sit back and leave, but something in Kiroranke flared up and he locked his legs behind Ogata’s back, trapping him between his thighs.
His face rarely showed extreme emotion, but if Kiroranke had to hazard a guess, he’d call this expression “incredulous”.
“I’m finished,” Ogata said slowly, voice muffled against his skin, like Kiroranke was too stupid to realise. He looked down at Ogata’s face, only visible from the eyes up, where it remained half buried against his balls, the tip of his cock resting against his forehead.
“Yeah. And I’m not.”
Ogata’s eyes narrowed, but interestingly, didn’t make any moves. Kiroranke’s knife was easily in range for himself which mean it was for Ogata too – he definitely wouldn’t put it past Ogata to pull it on him just to make a point. So the fact he was simply letting this happen… Well, Kiroranke wasn’t one to waste a good opportunity.
He grasped his own cock, tugging on it slowly, just getting a feel for it. He shivered at the first direct contact he’d had in this encounter so far, hips pushing into his grip. He grinned as he realised that any thrust his hips made meant grinding his crotch back and forth over Ogata’s face. His grin widened even further when Ogata’s eyes soon slipped shut, short, sharp exhales puffing against Kiroranke’s skin.
Kiroranke’s own head tipped back as he sped his hand up, the dual sensation of his fist and Ogata’s teasing breaths hurtling him closer to the edge. He bit his lip as he experimented with occasionally squeezing his legs around Ogata, forcing him even closer momentarily, before releasing him so he could actually breathe. It occurred to Kiroranke that Ogata was probably the kind of guy who would enjoy having his breath taken away entirely, but he decided to leave that for another time.
When he looked back down at Ogata again, he saw his eyes had opened, lids heavy, and were watching with rapt attention the way Kiroranke’s foreskin was dragging over the head of his cock with each upward movement. He didn’t know why, but that was suddenly what pushed him over the edge, his back arching as his cock pumped out load after load of cum over his fist. His thighs locked around Ogata, holding him tight as he let the pleasure wash over him, hips stuttering into his own hand.
When he finally calmed down he couldn’t help but laugh as Ogata scowled up at him, cum having dripped onto his forehead and cheeks, fortunately (or unfortunately) having missed his eyes. Kiroranke finally released him, and Ogata immediately sat up, wiping the cum off with his hand.
“We done here?”
“Sure,” Kiroranke replied, but it came out a little breathless as Ogata proceeded to lick his fingers clean of Kiroranke’s cum. That scowl was no longer doing much to convince Kiroranke he was truly annoyed.
Sighing, feeling like the energy was sapped out of him despite not really having done much at all, Kiroranke watched Ogata return to his usual space. Sated, he soon fell asleep, Ogata’s completely still form the last thing he remembered seeing.