barbieland room (NSFW ACCIDENTALLY)

[devil_or_angle]

*there's a new door in the hallway. it's pink. thinking alluka will surely love whatever is behind it, killua turns the handle and heads in to make sure it's safe. his eyes are immediately assaulted with a plastic world made up of the brightest candy-colors he's ever seen, so startling that it takes him a moment to realize that even his clothes have changed to match, trading out his turtleneck and jeans for an open teal-and-pink striped shirt and identically-patterned shorts. he grimaces down at the dorky getup before venturing further inside, wondering if he might be able to find a change of clothes in one of the pink, multi-story houses lining the shiny cul-de-sac.*

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[devil_or_angle]

*that gasp is catnip to killua, sending a jolt through his body that ricochets all around his skeleton, for lack of a landing point. his clarity blurs, the desire to get his brother mewling urging his hips forward. his lips lunge for his brother's, tongue pushing into him along with kalluto's own fingers in the phantom space between his legs.*

[descendsanathema]

*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...

[devil_or_angle]

*killua drools into his brother's mouth, tongue lapping sloppily against his until they disconnect with a wet burst of saliva that trickles down his trousers, soaking into his monogrammed underwear. he shudders with pleasure at the spread of moisture between his legs, simulating what he would already have produced were he still able to shed precum. he knocks his hips forward eagerly, mumbling,*

let me...

*his feet follow his hips, crowding kalluto backwards, moving him all the way up to the closet wall. with his hands behind his head he cradles him from slamming against it too hard even as his spine aligns with the clear plastic, taking his mouth again as he slides a knee between his quivering thighs.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto follows the motions of Killua's steps. Even without his spatial awareness, Kalluto knows when the closet wall is close, Killua slowing down and even cushioning the back of his head with Killua's own hands.

Backed up against the wall, Kalluto is wild enough that he'd rather have been tackled through it, wanted splintered plastic to cut and graze and hurt him, wanted the air to escape his lungs as he lands on his back, but when Killua starts to drive his knee between Kalluto's legs, he has to prefer his brother's judgement.

His hands search on both sides for somewhere to grip, wants his brother to go harder without losing the perfect angle he's found. When he's stable, he's clearly being jolted around a lot less.

Kalluto is more proactive with his tongue, now, pushing past and against Killua's, their tongues sliding against each other, intertwining, exploring the other, everything hot and wet and disjointed. He whimpers, again, and pulls back, somehow contorting breathstarved wheezing through his prim manner and demeanour. As soon as he can speak, he does.*

Good. Faster. Ha-arder.

*As his voice cracks, he kicks his feet off the ground, using what he's grabbed on the walls to support him as he wraps his legs tight around Killua, the backs of his knees on either side of his ribs, squeezing Killua forward into the spot between his legs.*

Please.

[devil_or_angle]

*kalluto's increasingly frenzied reactions excite killua, from his probing tongue to his legs slinging tight around his waist. he looks -- unhinged, the proper, porcelain-doll facade that he'd come to know shattered, raw desire on display. killua drinks in each irregular breath as it exits his brother's lungs, hot enough to melt the plastic of their surroundings.*

--harder?

*he confirms with a grunt as he pushes kalluto back against the wall with the force of his whole body, lifting and grinding his knee into the apex of his thighs. one of his hands grips his hair, the other slides down to the middle of his back and arches his chest forward so he can duck down into it and ravage his throat with more kisses.*

[descendsanathema]

*The impact of Killua's knee induces a reflex. Kalluto tightens and coils the muscles around and between his legs, stiffens the impetuous curling of his knees, his feet higher now, ankles hooked around Killua's shoulders, hips extended to angles his body has not known outside of a gymnasium or circus. The pleasure then comes a second later, the bundle of nerves under that knee screaming for the now-muted milling to be unabated. It starts slowly, Kalluto's protective instincts peeling away to let his brother's power inside of him.

His hair is grabbed, his chest is hunched, Killua is moving him about like he's stuffed with cloth or corn, not moulded of plastic or porcelain, hitting and stroking and kneading and oh my god he's digging into me with his mouth every little spot he wants and needs before he even knows it, everything is about him and Kalluto cries out his brother's name, haggard panting as his mind whirls with the delight of submission, every aching iota of will lapsing into the trust of his brother's tender thunder.

It's a deep pile of white-hot cinders which almost has steam escaping from Kalluto's hanging mouth, from which a novel, unknown bodily pleasure begins to emerge, Kalluto's body warm and shaking with miniscule vibrations that he tries to keep in check, wants the perfection of his brother's drilling, licking, biting, taking to go just according to Killua's intentions. Kalluto's arms buckle; without realising it, he's on the edge of a profound orgasm whose throes would rattle the whole of Barbieland.*

Don't stop! Please, don't stop!

[devil_or_angle]

*killua has no intention of stopping, driven not just by carnal instinct but an innate responsibility to carry his brother to climax. what he started back in his bedroom he's going to finish now in this plastic diorama, fulfilling the fantasy he bled into him through their hidden connection.

with the hand on the back of kalluto's head curved to keep him from banging against the closet window, killua grinds relentlessly into his crotch with the flat of his knee, building friction from the rasp of denim against cotton. even while putting his whole body's force into it he's gentle, knowing his brother can take more than most but never wanting it to verge on the pain he's suffered, never slip from torturous pleasure to just torture. he wants to prove to him that he's different from the rest of them, family he can actually trust while he figures out what he truly wants.

meanwhile his teeth tear away the neckerchief impeding his conquest of kalluto's throat, freeing his lips to run wild down his chest, pressing ravenous kisses to silk-smooth skin. they brush a taut nipple and latch on tight, tongue flicking to invigorate the nerves bundled beneath it in the absence of anything more sensitive to suckle. if his frantic cries are anything to go by, it won't require much more to take him apart.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto gasps, vision blanking out white, his legs squeezing together against Killua's upper body, heels digging into his back, his arms giving out completely to hang limp as Killua seamlessly keeps him held up with his knee, held against the wall, held, with some assistance from the convulsive tension of Kalluto's legs around Killua's shoulders. As though Killua's knee could empty his lungs by pushing up through his body, a deep, guttural scream escapes Kalluto, pitching up to a needy wail with every incision and forceful suck his brother delivers with his mouth.

It feels too good. Kalluto can't will himself to stop the shivering of his whole body as a wave of pressure builds up between his legs, his stomach cramping then relaxing in heaves as he struggles to get air back into his lungs.

Panting gives way to a wince, and his body completely relaxes, Killua's knee and mouth and arms and teeth thrashing him about, Kalluto utterly lost amid the climax, too exhausted to even make sound, wanting the moment to last forever. He hangs, malleable, plastic denying again and again the devastating orgasms his nerves and mind are pumping, the pressure against every part of him feeling like his skin will explode in phantom cum. All he can do is ride the wave, hoping that when his body cools, he remains exactly how Killua has altered him.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua wants to pull back and marvel at kalluto as he loses control, but why bother when he can feel it all happening against him, the seize of his spine between his bracing hands and the forceful swell of his heaving lungs and the thunderous hammering of his heartbeat beneath his lips. he feels every squeal and shudder alongside him, around him, inside him, forgetting where one of their bodies ends and the other begins as their writhing ceases and they melt together against the plastic barrier, kalluto's weight sliding into his lap as he buckles his knees and crumples to the ground, sharing in his satisfied exhaustion.*

[descendsanathema]

*As they drop, Killua steadies and braces Kalluto as best he can. Barely able to move, Kalluto's thighs drape over his brother's as he falls into his lap, shoulders alighting delicately onto the floor, head rolling back just as slowly onto the floor from being tucked against his chest. They lay sprawled in a pile, their pulses like jack-hammers pressed against everywhere the other touches.

Buried under soft, barely perceptible puffs, the desperation and vulnerability from moments ago can be found. Like bile rushing up the back of his throat, Kalluto can feel the surging need to panic, to root out the weakness.

Instead he swallows.*

I want to kiss you again, Kiru~

*He doesn't even make an attempt to move.*

[devil_or_angle]

*breathing in tandem with his brother beneath him, killua listens to the syncopated rhythm of their hearts as they struggle to come down from such a high. he hears kalluto's skip out of time as he gulps, his voice echoing throughout their intertwined bones, and finally lifts his head to gaze down in wonder at the debauched mess he's made of him, flushed face smeared with saliva and bruised nipples standing dark atop his pale, shaking chest.

there's no trace left of the old kalluto that clung to his mother's side with no will of his own, just an accessory for murder. surrendered to his desires, he's laid himself bare and vulnerable on his brother's lap, unable to conceal a thing from him anymore. this is everything their reunion at the concert was leading up to -- the shedding of his old skin, his rebirth as a person all his own. it's everything killua wanted for him, and he couldn't have done it without his help.

with a full-bodied shudder of satisfaction, killua leans in to fulfill his final wish.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's back curls, his mouth rising an inch or so to meet Killua's with the elegant and lazy airs of a cat performing morning stretches. Their lips are still softly touching even as Kalluto lets himself sink again, dragging Killua down to the floor with him.

He squirms with delight, puckering his lips against his brothers' once he's against the floor again, wearing an impish grin when the kiss breaks.*

No. Not there. Take off your underwear, Ken.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua collapses languid atop his brother, following the magnetic pull of his lips until they're folded over each other once again. his mischievous request gives him pause, however, and he pulls back just enough to meet his eyes again with a puzzled smirk.*

i told you, there's no boat.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's gaze flitted between the comfortable, relaxed eye contact with his brother and intentful glances at the waistband poking out from behind his jeans, as though that was enough for them to simply come off.

He licked his lips.*

Maybe not, but there's a deck I'd like to swab.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua catches the glance down at his crotch, still situated snugly between his brother's thighs, and shakes his head with a flustered chuckle.*

kalluto...

*helping kalluto realize his desire was one thing, but he's not sure he's ready to do the same.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto smoothed over his face, not quite managing to wipe the fondness from his eyes, but not wanting to show that he felt a little silly taking the hint so late. Play time was over, he guessed.

He sighed, closing his eyes, then opening them again to stare straight up, at the garishly toned ceiling.*

So. What now?

[devil_or_angle]

*trying to disguise how relieved he is that kalluto isn’t forcing the issue, killua shrugs nonchalantly as he slowly uncoils, sitting up and following kalluto’s gaze to the ceiling.*

i dunno.

*truthfully, he doesn’t — they’ve already gone much further than he ever expected they would, leaving them in a strange limbo between brotherly and sexual feelings. he doesn’t know how to see him, now, not sure how he’ll see him when he again meets his eyes — or more pressing yet, when they return to their intact bodies and are hit with the full repurcussions of their fling.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's mind was churning, a rudder slammed full tilt to port. It had seemed natural to him that they take turns, that everything done to him needed to be catalogued, to be done in reverse to Killua. Did that mean that it was all flotsam, or jetsam?

Without the physical stimulus, odd and muted as it all was, he found the wave of immediacy collapsed and dissolved, so he was glad not to be currently riding atop its crest.*

Well. I still don't feel like moving.

[devil_or_angle]

*at an impasse, killua glances down at his brother's sprawled form laid out on his lap. while not in the throes of passion he's embarrassed to touch the exposed expanse of his body, but allows himself to at least lean over him and brush his disheveled bangs from his eyes while his own shyly dart away from them.*

thanks. um, for stopping.

*he swallows, pausing before abruptly confessing:*

y'see, i only just called it off with gon, and i haven't even told alluka that we kissed yet...

[descendsanathema]

*With a groan, Kalluto hoists himself upwards, pushing off the floor with his hands until he's sitting cross-legged. As he reaches the position, a gown materialises, with sparkles, covering him from the neck down. He shifts. The gown clung, discoloured and sticky, to his skin. When he felt it, he glanced at it in distaste before looking towards the side of Killua's face.*

Oh. You've broken it off with Gon. Then whose business of hers is it who you kiss?

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's heart lurches after kalluto as he disentangles from him, suddenly adopting his fear of being the one to lose him in his moment of hesitance. the gown he summons to shield himself away can barely cover up what killua's done to him, short hair still disheveled, pouting face still flushed. he realizes there's no point in pushing them further apart by concealing the truth -- clearly, he doesn't have an issue with incest. heaving a sigh, he confesses,*

the thing is, i kiss her, too.

*before kalluto can get up in arms about it, he leans in and takes his brother's chin, gently, and turns him fully to face him, a serious, uncommonly vulnerable look in his dark eyes.*

so i just wanna make sure we're all on the same page about what this means to us.

*he pauses, stroking kalluto's delicate jawline with his thumb before casting both his hand and gaze downward.*

because it means a lot, to me.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto doesn't flinch or resist, but he's full of tension from the neck up once his face is wrapped in Killua's hand. He thought that was what Killua had meant, and had the intent to thrust something sharp into the conversation, but he was the one who was wincing.

Meaning... this was how Illumi talked, too. Everything had to mean something, and Kalluto didn't get to decide. But Kalluto was confused, barely listening to his brother talk, just staring into eyes that weren't rejecting him, even though he was.

His brother's thumb felt like a cotton ball that was painfully soft. Killua let his hand fall, and in second the tension had dripped down onto his shoulders, ran off all the way the way to the floor. He propped up his knees, wrapping both arms around his legs, tilting his head to point at the floor between them.*

There's too many gaps for me to know what it means. I'm never the one picking, anyway. Even the Troupe don't even get out a coin for me.

*He sunk a little further, too many things to avoid thinking about to not be glanced by one of them. He didn't care that it was her, but why did it have to be her?

Was he content just to pull off a piece of Killua for himself?*

[devil_or_angle]

*kalluto's response, while not actively hostile, is seeped in bitterness that leaves a bad taste on killua's tongue. his relief from the weight of his confession is brief, as it settles back over his shoulders as a cloak of remorse for the complicated situation he's unintentionally put his siblings in. he'd hate to make either of them feel in any way like gon had made him feel, helpless to his whims.*

you should get to pick. so should she...

*he glances up at his brother, finding his gaze similarly downcast and dull, and his voice cracks with empathy.*

...i wanna give you both what you want... what you need.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto closed his eyes, knees and elbows compressing further, a tighter ball, feet pushing off the floor with tiny motions that barely move him. It wasn't obvious whether this was for comfort or to help him think, least of all to Kalluto.

Abruptly, he stopped, deftly balanced on the balls of his feet, his head tilting level to look at Killua as his ankles flexed, slowly lowering his feet flat, staring into Killua's eyes with keen intent. A sullen pout hung off his face, shaken off bit by bit by every blink.*

I need... I want...

I want you to need me. I don't like being a doll. A pet. A mascot.

*He bit off the last word with disgust, suddenly aware that he was being silly about his intelligence role in the Troupe. Phinks hated when he belittled himself like this. So, he resented the idea of being someone's passion project, too, but kept that behind his teeth, grateful to this Killua.*

What do you need? I can... try to do it.

*Please. I can be enough.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's heart leaps at his brother's insistence, each beat a pang as he struggles with his desire to placate him and his far of going too far and making another mess of things. all he's left with is sullen indecision.*

i don't know what i need.

*he sighs, rocking on his haunches until he finally tips back and sprawls out on the glittery pink plastic floor, chest sinking into his denim vest.*

...i guess i need you to give me time to figure it out.