*Kalluto sucks at Killua's tongue greedily as his humming sends vibrations that jar Killua's whole body - his lips writhing against his brother in a frenzied alternation between letting him in and keeping his tongue in place. His imagination sprints in all directions, wanting all of Killua in his mouth, piecemeal, so he can suck hard on every inch of him.

His arm is already beginning to cramp up, the position not suited to any muscle memory he's developed through training, his naive endurance neglected because of the specialist role he plays. Kalluto separates his mouth from Killua's with a loud, wet pop. As Kalluto speaks, the laden centre of a string of saliva between their mouths first hangs, droops, then snaps, falling against Killua's stomach, some moisture splashing past the gap in Killua's loose jeans to wet his null crotch.*

More. N-need... more...