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

[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...

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto perked up, tilting his head to face Killua, lips nonchalantly brushing against his brother's thumping chest.*

...straight after that picnic, yeah. I love the spring, but I really wasn't ready for just how much dust and dirt clung to my skin, and a lot was exposed that day.

*He smirked.*

I'm normally so quick to scrub up, but I was in there for over an hour...

[devil_or_angle]

*killua clears his throat, only to mumble,* you don't say.

*there's still a chance he didn't hear, or at least didn't realize what he heard, but it dwindles with every second that smirk persists on his face. fully accepting that he's been caught, now, killua dares to slip a hand back out of his pocket and rest it on his brother's shoulder, fingers just lightly brushing the nape of his neck. he meets his gaze squarely despite the blush on his skin.*

...what kind of thoughts were you having?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto spoke in a warm, bright voice. He felt detached from what he was describing, he thought, due to his current state, but his voice bled passion.*

It started with the shower water. It felt so good against my skin... every steaming spike of water hitting me like a drill before collapsing into a shockwave of contented nerves. My hands were everywhere, my thoughts were everywhere. I just wanted to be touched...

*His eyes squeezed shut and his shoulder shivered where Killua's hand was on it. He took a deep breath, and suddenly opened his eyes again.*

...everywhere.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's fingers explore the junction between kalluto's shoulder and neck, thumb running back and forth along his collarbone as he regales him with his experience. his skin feels unnaturally smooth and perfect, free from the scars of his harsh training -- another side effect of the room, he assumes. like they're made of plastic like everything else.

but kalluto is not made of plastic. he's more real now than he's ever been, his words flowing like poetry, quivering like a blossoming flower in his palm. he's never seen him so open, so raw.

killua's breath hitches slightly before he responds.*

so you touched yourself.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto gently shifted his upper body to press against Killua's hand, the two of them freezing in the pregnant pause before Killua replies.

When he does, Kalluto's heart thumps his chest, rattling his body enough that his pulse feels clear to Killua's fingers.

He frees one hand, extends one fingernail, and strokes the underside of Killua's arm.*

And I was thinking of you. Couldn't get your voice out of my head.

*Kalluto urgently wanted to be enveloped by him.*