killua's cabin (nsfw)

[devil_or_angle]

*killua heads straight back to his cabin after his encounter with kalluto in melody's field, anxious for some alone time. the flame ignited by their proximity is still burning bright inside him, clouding his head with smoky desire. he sighs as he slips into the room and slumps against the door, smoothing a hand down his shirt again as if it were still riding up, still feeling exposed and raw as a live wire.

he flops into the center of his spacious bed, sinking into the blankets with a groan. the weight of his hand feels good on his chest, feels better the lower he slides it. his toes curl as it slips beneath his shirt to touch his bare stomach, the strike of skin-against-skin still iron-hot in his mind. he can't help but wonder what would have happened if they hadn't stopped, back in the field -- if he'd been allowed to peel back more of kalluto's layers and feel him all against him, around him, inside him. the heat spreads from their point of contact to the furthest reaches of his body, pulsing under his palm.

he knows, with a guilty twinge that cramps his stomach muscles beneath his fingers, that he shouldn't be thinking this way about his brother, but has that ever stopped him when it came to his sister? he doesn't need to venture lower to find he's already hopelessly hard. he mutters a curse under his breath, indecisively thumbing the waistband of his shorts.*

fuck...

Comments

[descendsanathema]

*In his mind, Kalluto was cursing up a storm, but his heart was trying not to cause too much of a ruckus - for Melody's sake - when he was looking around again for his cabin. He found it, quicker than he'd expected, and got straight into the shower.

He didn't sweat, but along with everything wonderful about the outside came the subtle layers of pollen and dirt and other things clinging to his skin, a distasteful sensation amplified by how much skin he'd been showing. As he took off his beachwear, a motion relegated to muscle memory appropriate to whatever he was wearing, he felt his underwear snag and tug at his body, slowed down as it was pulled down to his feet. Kalluto had paid this no mind, stepping out of his clothes with all the indolence of a child who'd grown up with servants, the one habit that annoyed the Troupe about him.

In the shower, he let the steaming hot water wash over his body, the first layer of filth coming off immediately.

fuck....

A coarse, husky voice played in his head, not unlike the internal monologue finding the cabin, but with a sultry tone that brought a flush to his cheeks. Before Kalluto could start applying soap to his body, he felt his toes crunch up a little, and a nondescript twitching which he noticed on looking down was between his legs. He was... partly engorged, and very sensitive to the unyielding water bulleting down from the shower rose. He stepped one foot apart, and leaned back, shoulders pinned back, his chest angled for the water to keep touching him.

He groaned, unconsciously shifting his body to account for the tilt from his toes curling, and from his gluteal muscles crunching and squeezing together with need.

Kalluto squeezed his shoulders together a little, his urge fighting his desire for modesty, the water so hot and hard against his nipples, which had become inexplicably sensitive, and a little swollen.*

[devil_or_angle]

*with a frustrated huff, he decides he has to do something about this, while he’s still alone and entrenched in these thoughts. as if it would alleviate his shame not to look directly at it, he slips his hand into his shorts, skimming the straining front of his underwear. another flash of heat, even stronger than when he’d touched his stomach, overwhelms his senses, and he diverts his curses to the one who left him in this state, hissing through gritted teeth.*

kalluto…

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto helplessly bucked his hips, swaying his arousal back and forth, the motion heightening his sensation of catching the water.

When he heard his name, he jutted himself back, squeezing his eyes painfully shut, water trailing the underside of his hardening, Kalluto whimpering as he felt the first trickles touching his balls, the whole apparatus jutting now, pointed directly at the shower rose, wanting and not wanting more touch.

He allowed a palm to slide around his thigh, creeping slowly towards where he wanted to touch. The other was on his stomach, cold as ice, but thawing as it approached the two stiff sources of heat at the top of his chest.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua digs the heel of his palm into his crotch, hips bucking at the blistering pressure. he needs it, needs more. his heart thumps erratically between shaking lungs, breath hitching as he finally parts the fabric of his underwear and pulls himself free.

as his hand wraps hot around his arousal, no curses escape him, just a deep, throaty groan.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's arms quivered as the rest of his frame was frozen in place, inaction under the water somehow feeling more appropriate than touching himself properly. His mind danced, a maelstrom of anticipation from everywhere exposed to the water.

With awkward, jutting motions, Kalluto caressed his chest and thigh, his hands too well-trained to trick themselves into touching any closer, too aware for the errant motions to make him feel like he was being touched.

His back arched against his will. Like thunder following lightning, he felt a voice that was unmistakably his brother's course through him, surging with tempered violence and guilt-ridden desire. A hand was stroking his nipple, delicately playing between a thumb and two fingers, his cock twitching, the other hand tracing a reflexive circle, unsure of where it should go.

Kalluto could almost cry. He imagined that Killua would know - knew exactly where Kalluto needed to be touched. He could trust his big brother.

His big brother was safe.

Unknowing of where a pencil dive stopped and gravity started, he plunged past the meniscus of disgust - first he was imagining his brother's aroused voice, now this? In his mind, clear and lucid, he'd just been shoved against the wall softly, lovingly, harshly, in the way only a Zoldyck would understand, and his brother's hands were all over his chest and nipples.

His body writhed against the cool tiles to which he'd stepped back, hips grinding against open air, the water so good on his cock, his back lithely curving, contorting, as if he was melting against his own touch - his brother's.*

[devil_or_angle]

*guilt chases the high of his pleasure, tugging him back down as soon as he thinks he's afforded himself some relief. is he really going to let himself get off to a tender moment with his brother? but the more he tries to cast the moment from his mind, the deeper he delves into it, until all he can see behind his fluttering eyelids is the prone body of his brother beneath him, his narrow hips snug against his.

when he’d covered him in the field he’d imagined them children again, but looking back on it now he’s painfully aware of every angle and curve of kalluto’s maturing body, subsumed beneath the weight and power of his own. the leg opposite his groping hand slides out across the sheets, parting his thighs for better access to his stiffened cock as he makes his first slide. his breath follows his fist, pulling sharply past his teeth in the first of a relentless succession of quick, shallow pants.*

[descendsanathema]

When he heard his brother's groan, Kalluto could have sworn he'd been indelibly marked, that he could draw from the memory and let his desires run headlong towards no good. It had just been a few seconds, and he couldn't hear it again.

Frustrated, he squeezed his eyes shut again, imagined Killua getting a little rougher with him. He flinched, the unceremonious squeeze of his thumb and index finger a little too hard on his own nipple, his chest compressing, the imagined, vacant stare of his brother so static, mouth open, no words, Kalluto utterly uninspired. He decided to slow down, and let the imagination come to him.

One thumb is circling the base of his cock, and the fingernails his other hand carefully rake his chest and graze his nipple, until he feels both of them rising and falling, alongside a breath that's following the rhythm of panting that Kalluto desperately matches, imagines their chests pressing together, sharing breaths, their bodies connected, touching all over.

The fantasy of what they're doing together melds seamlessly against another distinct image. Kalluto pictures his brother's sweat-slicked hand curled around their cock. Against sense, the stilted breaths now urgently hint Kalluto's name and brush against Kalluto's neck, between his legs, against his cock, forcing itself deep inside of him, everywhere at once.

Kalluto needed Killua to smother him, to fill him. Only he was allowed.

As his hand wraps around his own cock, the sensation of timid but furious strokes drown out the images but not the panting. His lungs, brimming with the sound of his brother's name, are desperate for his own name to become clear amongst it.*

[devil_or_angle]

*as much as the physicality of the moment is seared deep into his bones, it's the emotional resonance of it that strikes straight to his core, keeping the flames of arousal alive and licking. the sheer trust inherent in the act of kalluto letting his deadly guard down -- to another assassin, no less -- and lying fully limp and vulnerable beneath him is not lost on killua, and his stomach churns with guilt anew at the thought of being freely given so much power over him. he vows, at once, to never betray it, to never lose control the way he quickly is now, the velocity of his jerking wrist and the resultant thrusts of his hips increasing with each heave of his lungs, each grunt and groan in between.*

mmn-- kallu--

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's grip tightens the instant he hears his name, his slicked, stiff cock gliding through maddened, lengthy strokes, urged forwards and backwards with impetuous hips. His bare ass makes wet noise as it slaps the hard tiles of the wall. With no experience, he imagines the squelch to be the sounds of his brother sliding into him, the moistened friction, just a little too hard - Kalluto knows that Killua knows the comfortable discomfort just as well as him, the only way any of them can properly relax.

The panting continues, Kalluto unable to tell where his begins, where his brother's ends. He buckles, almost crumpling, as the delirious, involuntary crunches of his toes, calves and inner thighs threaten his balance. He finds purchase by spreading his legs out, pivoting a foot outwards, turning on the heel, the ball, the heel of his foot and sinking his knees into a squat, leaned against the wall, his hips and chin tilting upwards, his arched back straining as he lengthens his chest, imagines Killua splitting him open, his insides molten and malleable as his brother's cock shapes him, Kalluto giving himself over completely to him. He's pumping his cock faster and harder than he's ever remembered when a name falls out of his mouth.

"Kiru~"

As a stray finger brushes past his testicles, the voice of his brother calling his name echoes through his mind, drills hard against him like the pleasantly searing shower water. As the name he just used plays on his mind, he's on the edge of diving what's peculiar about it, but can't and won't move through the fog of lust to find it.*

[devil_or_angle]

*all rational thought chased from his mind by the cocking of his wrist, killua sinks into the fantasy of giving himself up in servitude to his brother, hips bucking in rhythmic response to his throbbing dick. he moans his name roughly above the rustling of the sheets, a needy plea.*

kalluto...

*if he were here right now -- if he were here, and wanting, and willing -- then killua would find out exactly what he likes, even if it had to be discovered without words, at first with gentle touches here and there, claws held back, caring and careful. he'd give him whatever he wants, repurpose the steady hands and percipient patience of his training for something much more delicate than death, but no less passionate. he'd find out his limits and push them up to the edge they're both so very familiar with, to that blissful point where pain and pleasure collide.

and the best part of it all would be that kalluto, having trained the same way as him, would know this, know how much he's holding back, know exactly what he's capable of and find out, firsthand, the things he never knew he was.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto hungrily pumps his cock, too dazed and feverish to easily find where his wayward finger can stimulate his prostate externally. His hand drops at the sound of his brother's voice calling his name again. There is charm, restraint and selfless love in the voice, and it smothers the image Kalluto had.

His fickle mind shifts in response, the Killua in his imagination pressing his chest against Kalluto's, grinding their naked bodies together, pinning and sliding Kalluto against the tiles. Kalluto slowly and firmly works his tongue in his mouth, pressing it against the back of his lips, rolling it against itself, and imagines it's Killua. His wet palm glides over his chest. He bites his lip as he pinches an already puffy nipple, shamelessly calling out, now.*

There, Killua... there, please, kiru~

*As he reached the point of no return, too eager for release to stop, he realised the voice he was hearing was too nuanced, too independent... too restrained to be his imagination. There was no room in his mind to think that the scenario he'd apologised for less than an hour ago had just played out again - crowded out by the thought that his brother was touching himself to him.

In a vain attempt to keep edging, he stilled his hands, slowing down his breathing, but Killua's breathing, now that he knew what it was about, would soon be more than enough to force him to cum.*

[devil_or_angle]

*past and present melt into each other as killua nears his peak, the flesh-memory of kalluto bucking beneath him in the field and the tight squeeze of his fist around his cock combining into a single visceral fantasy of fucking into him. the pitch and frequency of his breathing rises in tandem with his desperate pumping, his heart’s thumping reaching a rapid crescendo beneath the grasping hand on his chest before he finally unloads into the one tucked in his shorts, the phantom taste of kalluto’s lips on his gasping tongue.*

[descendsanathema]

*Try as he might, he couldn't calm himself down and postpone his orgasm with Killua's deafening, escalating breaths coursing through his awareness. One gentle squeeze and tug of his cock broke the dam, Kalluto's shoulders soon dug against the tiles as he pushed more of his body into breathless pumps.

He imagines Killua on top of him again, as little kids, his big brother brave and steadfast even as he quivers in fear of Illumi, forces his body to stand up to them. Kalluto moans, helplessly matching an especially loud breath from his brother, and they're in the same position, but naked, and grown up. He sucks gently but firmly, and feels Killua's tongue in his mouth, the presence unobtrusive, like he's letting Kalluto invite him inside at his own pace.

His brother is moving on top of him, Killua's flat stomach pressing and rubbing at Kalluto's hard cock, Kalluto's thighs pressing together against his brother's cock, rubbing between them. He sucks harder at Killua's tongue, spurring the eager, leaking cock between his legs to rub between them even faster.

Kalluto swears he can hear the throes of Killua's orgasm echoing off the shower tiles, imagines the hot, clumping loads between his legs, Killua's cock still thick, juicy and rubbing against his skin through the semen.*

Killua~

*He cries out his brother's name one last time before before he climaxes, squeezing strand after strand after strand. Keeping a comfortable around of room in his fist for his cock, Kalluto places his thumb over the gap at the top created by sliding his hand almost all the way off. He clenches his hand gently, then opens it out again after a few seconds, the remainder of his cum jetting against the opposite wall. With his hand, he spread his thick load between his legs, thighs pressing into his hand from both sides and rubbing together, Kalluto imagining the sensations as Killua's cock and ejaculate.

He stays in that position, writhing, panting with his mouth gracelessly hanging open.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua’s heart thunders under his palm as he comes, a relentless, drumming rhythm punctuated by jolting spasms of his hips each time he ejaculates. it only begins to slow once the spurting stops, once his grip finally loosens and he feels himself softening once again, his sudden, wild craving satisfied.

as he breathes himself through the aftermath in shuddering gasps, he tries to keep his cock enclosed in the slick tunnel of his fist as long as he can, sporadically twitching his grip to simulate the living inner walls he hasn’t yet been lucky enough to enter. but within minutes the unpleasant sensation of his shorts sticking to his legs takes hold, and he finally lets himself go, sliding his hand out and smearing his congealing cum between his fingers with a tired sigh. he should go clean himself up before alluka comes barging in with questions he doesn’t know how to answer.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto turns up the water pressure, the seconds since his orgasm abating his interest in being covered with semen. He hisses as water trickles down the back of his shoulders, the minerals stinging tiny grazes and cuts. Once Kalluto was aware he'd been milling his shoulders against the tiles, though, he found himself slowly repeating the same motions, grounding himself with the mental exercise of suppressing pain, calming himself down even as he relished in a tensely suspended afterglow.

When he was satisfied with how clean he and the shower were, he sat down, knees bent up and leaning back on his arms, and let the water run through his hair and down his body, breathing in the steam through his nose once he could afford to eschew his mouth.

Kalluto's chest rumbles with soft groans that sound like purrs through his high vocal register as he strokes the insides of his thighs. He imagines the hands to be Killua's, and that the two of them want to kiss, but need to de-escalate the situation.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua hauls himself off the bed and clambers over to the connected bathroom, already beginning to feel the customary shame that accompanies any instance of allowing himself such guilty pleasure. he leans over the stone basin of his sink with another beleaguered sigh, pouring out some water to splash his sweaty face with and grimacing when he opens his eyes again and sees alluka's cute pink singing toothbrush standing innocently by the sink. he's feeling like some kind of degenerate as he shucks his shorts down and glimpses the mess still dripping from his unsheathed cock, which he averts his gaze from as he begins to remove his underwear as well. at least neither of his siblings would ever know about this.

as he pulls the fabric over his sticky thighs, he notices a fleck of white clinging to his skin, then another and another, all of them soaked in semen. for a dull moment he furrows his brow in confusion, letting his underwear fall around his ankles as he skims through the mess and picks up the debris, which he he concludes, with a careful sniff and roll between his fingertips, is just paper.

in a rush of realization he's swept back up into his memories, careening past the moment he'd fantasized about and back to what his brother had shown him before -- a demonstration of his nen power, which allows him to conduct surveillance through the use of tiny slips of paper.

heart lurching, killua shakes his hand wildly to dislodge the crumpled, soggy bits of paper, a stream of curses falling from his tongue anew.*

shit, shit shit--

*he has no idea if the power was active, forgetting the details of kalluto's explanation in his panic. all he can pray is that his brother had forgotten that he'd left them there, just as he had, and hadn't been listening in on killua moaning his name.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's ability to discern what a target was doing besides talking was very limited - with other members who could collect intelligence, there was no need for something riskier that was more robust to interference or collected more information than sound vibrations against the skin.

His chest and thighs tingled against the water and his hand, and he puckered his lips against the pressure of the water coming down, imagining it to be Killua's tongue, giving him delicate, guilt-ridden laps.

He sensed Killua move to another room, drop a haggard sigh, and heard the splash of water against his skin. There was something so domesticated about his brother cooing his name, now, after whatever madness of lust had passed over and through him, through Kalluto himself, that didn't feel correct, but right enough to crave. The sound of his name in Killua's unbridled intonations was sunk deep into his core now, felt like it completed a circle whose full circumference he would never trace, not so long as stolen memories were never recovered. The softer sound felt outside of that, a bonus.

He heard another sound; Kalluto's hand shifts closer to his already-hard cock, strokes at the base as image accompanying the sound imposes itself on Kalluto's relaxed, affectionate fantasy: Killua sniffing at, then licking up, the mess currently washing down Kalluto's chest, between his legs, down his genitals. He wanted Killua to bite and suckle at his skin, gnash him up, take care of him. Possess him. Only Killua was allowed. He dug his shoulders hard against the shower tiles again, imagining them to be Killua's nails, just human nails, not enhanced the way he does to hurt with intent to kill.

A few seconds, an eternity, after Killua is sniffing and rubbing at the paper through something viscous - he now knows how the triangles will perform covered in a suspension, he gathers - he hears a curse word and then nothing. Whatever had just happened, it was now over.

Kalluto told Killua about the other three triangles, right? Kalluto had thought that meant Killua wanted him to hear all of this, an escalation that Kalluto could never have imagined, didn't realise he needed, could have stopped at any time by severing the connection as Kalluto had explained, could have left Killua to his private thoughts instead of accepting something that Killua was desperate to share with him.

He wasn't sure what to think, now.

As his breathing quickened, and his need for his big brother's voice acclimatised to the lesser richness of memory, to sense data twisted into what Kalluto wanted, from what Killua gave, he touched his cock again.

Killua might be done, but Kalluto was not.*