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.*

Comments

[devil_or_angle]

*killua eyes the selection of accessories behind the plastic screen with disdain. sure, the bones look kind of cool, but they won't solve the pressing problem at hand.*

i'm not looking for accessories, i need a whole new outfit.

*he grimaces down at his striped ensemble again, plucking at the open shirt which completely lacks buttons to close it over his bare torso.*

something less... revealing. and less pink?

[descendsanathema]

*Turning to Killua again, Kalluto strokes the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between his fingers.*

But it's a good material. And it won't be ruined if you get it wet...

*Keeping hold of it, not aware at all of how much more of his brother's chest he's revealing, Kalluto turns to the shadow board again, looking at the frame carefully.*

For outfits, maybe you can look... here?

*After running his other hand along the bottom of the frame, he found a large button that clicked when he pressed it upwards, against the frame. The set of shadowboards swivelled on their base. Once he realised what was going on, Kalluto quickly grabbed the pendant that he'd noticed, releasing the delicate grip on his brother's shirt as casually as he'd taken it.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua hastily clutches the shirt back to his chest as soon as kalluto lets it go, flustered by his apparent lack of concern for his brother's modesty, which he's very much trying to keep intact around him. at kalluto's prompting, the board inside the frame flips, revealing another full set of clothing and accessories. this time it's all denim, baby blue jeans and a matching sleeveless vest with frayed edges. still no shirt, but the color's definitely an improvement. killua rubs his chin, inspecting suspiciously it through narrowed eyes.*

i guess that's a little better...

*as if reacting to his reluctant feelings of approval, the outfit in the case suddenly vanishes and reappears on killua's body in a flurry of cartoonish sparkles, replacing the one he arrived in. he glances into the mirror to see that it somehow fits him perfectly, vest squarely framing his still-bare chest and jeans hanging low on his hips to reveal a waistband reading "KEN" over and over in conspicuous black letters.*

...yeesh.

[descendsanathema]

*Once Kalluto had pocketed the stone, he watched as the shadowboards turned. He looked at what was on offer, then at Killua's face of abject disappointment, and then his begrudging admission, probably pleased that it just wasn't pink, and Kalluto laughed, keeping it mostly behind his hand until the outfit magically and instantly appeared on Killua.

When he'd composed himself, Kalluto stepped to the front of Killua, now standing between him and the new suite of accessories. A finger traced down Killua's chest, stopping with the edge of his fingernail tucked barely at the waistband behind an instance of the lettering.*

I guess you really are Ken. Do you think the airship picked a name for me, too?

[devil_or_angle]

*at kalluto's teasing touch, killua gulps down a hot drizzle of arousal that follows the path traced down to his stomach, but, curiously, stops and settles there, not venturing beneath his waistband the way his brother's fingertip is. with a conspicuous clearing of his throat, he tugs his jeans up by the belt loops, jerking hips bumping kalluto's finger free.*

why don't you check your underwear and find out?

*he immediately regrets his hasty, haughty retort, face flushing anew at the realization he's just invited kalluto to undress just as he is trying to share as little skin with him as possible.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto withdrew his hand, following then extending the motion of Killua pulling up his jeans. He felt a rush of excitement at Killua's challenge, but found it odd to not feel it all over his body, just in his chest. As he remembered one of the last things he'd said to his brother in the field, the excitement grew, but still didn't spread.*

It's different if we're brothers, right?

*Kalluto lifted up his shirt, revealing a hot pink belt with nylon webbing, and also most of his chest, then suspiciously looked over each shoulder in turn before looking at his brother.*

Let me know if anyone's looking, okay? *he said as he undid the belt, letting his trousers fall unceremoniously around his ankles.

In the mirror, he saw that his underwear was black, with a repeating pattern of grey anchors stamped across the whole thing. Sure enough, the waistband - bone coloured with a plain back type face for the words - read 'Sailor Ken'.*

[devil_or_angle]

*as kalluto begins to strip without a second thought, killua's mind goes into overdrive, panicking over how to react without rousing suspicion. he doesn't want to look directly at him, but looking away would make him seem more weird, because as kalluto clearly believes, this shouldn't be weird between brothers. he's already seen kalluto naked plenty of times before, in his hazy memories of their childhood. but like he realized back in the field, a lot has changed since then, and he can't help but feast his eyes on his brother's pert backside as his pants fall to the floor.

once again he's left feeling strangely frustrated by the sight, and not just toward himself for feeling anything about this at all. the arousal that usually would have him tingling in his own trousers stops just short of satisfaction, lingering in his gut with the guilt. he casts his gaze back and forth, pretending to be serving his duty as lookout, but the only one looking is him. he reads the text off his waistband with a snort.*

guess that answers that.

[descendsanathema]

*Satisfied with knowing his name, Kalluto let go of his shirt, allowing it to hang past his waist, covering his underwear. He flicked one of his legs, kicking off one boot, then the other, both of which should probably have been tied up with laces. He stepped out of his pants, taking a step closer to his brother.*

I don't like the trousers, honestly. It feels the same as my robes but not quite...

Hey, you hate that vest, right? I think it looks good, but maybe you'd be less embarrassed just taking it off?

[devil_or_angle]

*killua takes a small but noticeable step back as kalluto approaches, leaving his trousers behind. modest by contrast, killua clutches his vest to his chest with a hot-faced glower.*

no way. i’m trying to put on more clothes, not less.

*he nods his head to the pair of sailor pants left discarded on the ground behind kalluto, retorting,*

why don’t you just poof yourself some other pants, if you don’t like those?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto notices his brother's step back in his periphery, more interested in how scandalised Killua looks. He takes a moment to properly think about the question, but decides to just act instead.

He walked away from Killua, now, looking out to the beach, trying his best to catch the breeze that had suddenly come on.*

Suit yourself... I want to feel the ocean air on my legs. It feels... nice, Killua. I don't think the magic works if I don't want anything besides that breeze touching my skin.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua watches his brother closely as he turns away, glimpsing flashes of those black underpants as the breeze ripples the edge of his shirt. now that he's no longer in immediate danger of being stripped, he relinquishes his grip on his vest, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.*

shorts, then, *he suggests gruffly, still uncomfortably flushed and frustrated by the sight of his brother's long, pale legs, strutting on display after he'd so recently fantasized about them wrapping around his waist.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto stretched his arms out, rolled his shoulders back, stretched his chest too. His contented groans against the air licking and lashing at his legs and neck were stifled by a snort, which froze his motions, too. He could picture the pout on his brother's face to match his voice without turning around to face him.

He brought his arms out again. There was a deep carnality about how engrossed he was in this, but there was something missing to it. As he reflected on what that might be, a -poof- sound and accompanying frizzle of dust happened all around his shirt just as it vanished. He shrugged his shoulders, groaning louder, now, wondering if he could handle an actual ocean breeze, the spray of sea mist, the unconscious straining and flexing he'd be doing on an unstable deck as it moved through water...*

It's fine. If people see me, they'll still know I'm a sailor.

*Kalluto turned around, pointing generally at his neck and above.*

See? Still got the cap and neckerchief.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua can barely believe his eyes, his fantasies slowly materializing as kalluto plays right into them, letting the rest of his outfit vanish in a puff of glitter. unable to restrain his curiosity, his hungry gaze maps the constellation of marks across his shoulders, following the trickling path down the slope of his back to the emblazoned waistband of his underpants. he turns, baring his front to him now, pointing cheekily at his little remaining clothing as if he knows exactly what he's doing.*

come on, you're not going to go out like that... right?

*the response comes out weaker than he'd hoped, tone wavering between stern disapproval and abject helplessness.*

[descendsanathema]

*Seeing the look in Killua's eyes properly, Kalluto got a little worried for how concerned he looked. Walking closer to him, Kalluto took a gentle grip of his brother's wrists, keeping them held to his side, their bodies close enough to share heat but not touching.*

Hey, I'm just kidding. None of these people are real. And if they tried to touch me, I can kill them.

*Keeping his hands by the side, he rests his head on his brother's shoulder, pressing his chest against theirs.*

No one's allowed to touch me, right?

*They're very close, and Kalluto is engrossed in it, even enjoying it more than he expected. Distantly, he feels as though the last time their bodies were this close together, there was something else present, something urgent and imminent that imposed its presence on this moment. He tried not to think about it, in case that line of thinking would somehow make it come back.*

[devil_or_angle]

*fight-or-flight grips killua's muscles as kalluto takes his wrists, holding him still as he gently aligns their bodies. he tries not to let their naked skin touch, but his stomach brushes against his brother's with each shallow breath, building the strange, coiled feeling inside it. maybe, he ventures, he wants himself to be the exception to the rule -- no one but him.

it's then that he realizes that there's something noticeably absent from the press of his brother's body against his own, something that should, by now, be insistently pressing back. with another tense gulp, he murmurs,*

kalluto...

...have you been feeling any different, since you got here?

[descendsanathema]

Mmm?

*Kalluto's head vibrates against Killua's shoulder as he murmurs. Wet lips unconsciously brush against denim as he turns his head to find purchase.*

I feel... fine? Head's maybe a little clearer...

*His eyes blink in surprise, and he lifts his head to make eye contact with his brother, leans his chest back a little while drawing Killua's hands together.*

Why can I hold you close like this without feeling that strange... pressure... against my body on all sides?

[devil_or_angle]

*kalluto's answer makes their predicament all the more obvious, and though his chest rumbles like a purr at the thought that their closeness has a similar effect on him, it ironically means very little right now.*

i, uh...

*his gaze drops from kalluto's, trailing down his bare chest to their clasped hands. heart thumping, he pulls them both down to cup his own crotch, pressing firmly against the flat front of his jeans. a shudder pulses through his body at the confirmation of his fears.*

i think... we're missing something.

[descendsanathema]

*When he noticed Killua moving his hands, Kalluto fanned his wrists, loosening the grip he had on Killua. But Killua didn't jerk free, so Kalluto's open palms were pressed suddenly against the denim of his brother's pants. Fingers splayed out reflexively, tips scanning, searching, groping around for something he neither found nor understood. The urge dissipated, as Killua spoke, for whatever he'd just been doing.*

We're missing something.

*Kalluto presses his open palms firmly to the jeans, moves them around a little, rapidly alternating between being confused at what he was finding and horrified that he was looking. He took Killua's hands, pressing both of their entangled hands against his own absent mound.

It sunk in properly what was going on - the room had neutered them both, and the smoky, foggy, misty presence that had been occluding Kalluto's simple love for his big brother was what was gone - alongside the appendages.

But something regarding that was not how Kalluto replied. Doll or not, boy or eunuch, he was here for one thing only.*

Yeah, we're missing a boat!

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's stomach flips as kalluto begins to thoroughly search his jeans for what should be underneath, pressing palms against his pelvis in vain. the arousal trapped in his gut starts and stops, flaring up only to be snuffed out like sparks falling in water, frustratingly never able to catch flame. then, to make it worse, kalluto pulls his hands over to his own crotch, covered only by thin, cotton underwear, and makes killua do the same, curling his hand around the smooth curve of his pubic bone.

he feels as if he's receiving the ultimate cosmic punishment for the crime of masturbating to innocent memories of his brother -- his fantasy of touching him there is coming true, but there's nothing there to touch.

still, he takes the opportunity to rub at the spot with morbid curiosity, only realizing what he's doing and wrenching his hand back when kalluto suddenly speaks, tone chipper as if he hadn't just found out he's been neutered. killua can hardly believe his ears.*

wha-- seriously...?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto purrs under his breath as his brother touches him, engrossed in the utter thrill of Killua trying to wrap his hands around Kalluto's phantom parts. Killua wasn't touching open air, he was touching Kalluto at his core, circumventing something Kalluto still couldn't put his finger on. Shame?

Okay, maybe one thing can pull me away from my extremely important desire to be a sailor. At least, I wouldn't drag my feet...

Kalluto doesn't flinch, doesn't feel rejected, when Killua tears his hand away from there. Because of how Killua looked at him, and how he didn't look at him, Kalluto knew that was bodily conditioning. It didn't mean anything about how much Killua loved him. Brimming with an odd combination of perspective and tongue-in-cheek petulance, Kalluto replied.*

I am very serious. I don't see one anywhere. Maybe we can find one in your jeans? Instead of... you know...

[devil_or_angle]

*bewildered by his brother's commitment to the bit, killua can't help but snort.* you're not making any sense.

*he eyes him carefully, hands stuffed safely back into his pockets to prevent them from investigating his altered body any further, though they itch with the urge to. he can't quite calculate kalluto's angle, unsure if he's just toying with him or really means what he's implying. he leans back at the hip, hefting his shoulders.*

...i don't have what you want.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto giggled, his grin from ear to ear almost showing his teeth, save for his hand covering his mouth. He shifted his own upper body closer to Killua. Their faces were close, but not quite so much that they could smell each other's breath - a distance Kalluto had committed to memory from the field and had decided was too intimate for his brother's liking.

He wasn't sure what to do with his hands once the one near his face dropped back to his side. He hauled them up again, intending to rest them palms flat against Killua's chest, but backed out, opting instead to clasp them together in front of his own.*

I don't know what I want, remember? But I think what you have is what I need.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua glimpses the stunted movement of kalluto's hands toward his chest before he retreats and his heart slams against his ribs, surely audible to kalluto's keen ears by now. how can he possibly be so flustered when he doesn't even have the organs to arouse? his brother is getting under his skin in a way that's deeper than just sexual, burrowing into his brain and blood as members of their family are wont to do.*

...and what would that be?

*he'd better not say a boat.*

[descendsanathema]

I don't... know. But it's so much easier to think about now without so much... machinery getting in the way. I just like being around you.

*He sighed, his whole form almost deflating to hang against his brother. Wet lips murmured against Killua's bare chest.*

I've been getting weird... thoughts... lately. The other day, while I was in the shower, they were so...vivid. It was exciting and scary.

*Killua might have felt the lips curling against his skin.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's own lips feel dry as dust, kalluto's confession wringing him out from the inside. could it possibly be that his fantasies were realer than he thought? that he'd... heard? killua tries to stay cool, but he's sweating bullets beneath his denim.*

was that... after...