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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[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.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua gulps. it's becoming increasingly clear that his feelings are reciprocated, the guilt he'd been harboring over his own act of passion dissipating when kalluto goes on to reveal that he'd done exactly the same thing, touched himself to illicit fantasies of his brother. as the reality of this sinks in, killua's complexion darkens, blood pooling under his skin with nowhere else for it to pump.*

there's... there's nothing wrong with that.

*he clears his throat again, trying to force certainty to his statement even when he'd just been beating himself up for its wrongness moments before. his new perspective on it makes a big difference -- if it's reciprocal... what's the harm? he slides his hand up into kalluto's hair, nails scraping gently over the buzzed curve of his scalp.*

i don't mind.

[descendsanathema]

*As Killua moves his arm, Kalluto doesn't lift his hand to meet it, letting it hang limp again as he focused on Killua's nails, tender against a scalp sensitive from the shorter cut.

Kalluto shuddered again, as though in slow motion, at Killua's words giving him something - a little stronger than permission - to touch himself. Before he knew it, a hand had worked its way inside his underwear. He didn't notice. The area was more sensitive than, say, his arm, but nowhere near the level of stimulation that he suddenly needed.

He groaned.*

I want you to kiss me.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's heart pounds as kalluto's hand slips down between them, snaking into his underwear to grope for his missing genitals, pressing into the null spot where they should be. his plea reminds him of when alluka first begged him to give her boyfriend kisses, frustrated with the chaste, familial kisses he'd been planting on her skin. she wanted more of him, and now so did kalluto -- and like before, he's helpless to resist giving his little siblings what they want.

it's different if we're brothers, isn't it?

the memory of kalluto's excuse from the field rings in his mind as he cups the back of kalluto's neck, tilting his face up so their lips can meet.*

[descendsanathema]

*As Kalluto's lips brush against Killua's, he puckers his lips to press firmly, everything else above the shoulders reduced to putty in his brother's hand. Even his tongue feels both too heavy to move and light enough that Killua could move it anywhere he pleased.

His fist opens up, pushes off his chest, but doesn't hang against Killua's chest, palm flat. Splayed fingers fan across bare skin, rubbing and curling around his big brother's nipple when the searching touch yields it.

Kalluto presses his other palm hard against his null spot, hoping a deep enough impression might yield a bunch of nerves if he finds the right location and angle.

Images from when Kalluto was fantasising in the shower flashed into and out of his awareness, becoming gradually more erotic in nature until his whole body was sweltering.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's back arches at kalluto's touch, drawing his hand deeper into the dip of his ribs. despite his lack of sexual organs his nipple still stiffens between his brother's fingers, his heart jolting with pleasure under his palm that stays bundled up in his chest instead of zipping down to his pelvis.

it's like -- edging, agonizing but somehow rewarding in its frustration. but more importantly, it makes space for him to focus on kalluto, set his own doomed desire aside completely to really hone in on his every response. pressing his tongue against the tight pucker of his lips, he coaxes his mouth open and curls inside it, wondering if his insides have retained their sensitivity even with the outsides smoothed over.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's lips press. He imagines his lips as the entrance missing from between his legs, the tongue stronger, the tongue his brother's cock, the tongue against his neck. His mind dances as Killua pushes him apart, gives him room to tighten around him, leaves him broken and whole.

Kalluto is on his back, wondrous friction peeling skin between his ankles as they grind together behind Killua's neck. He's in sixty-nine, a razor-sharp tongue piercing smooth skin-plastic, digging up skin-flesh, the sailor a pirate, the "X" where a penis should be.

He's standing, stiffly curled fingers slamming into himself, pleasure as droplets sweat, trickle and quench through the concrete dam, fingers bruising and straining as mad fervour eschews trained safeguards. As the tongue works through his mouth he wishes it were bigger, so much bigger, wanted this duality of his brother's intent and feelings to fill his whole body, to press against every inch of his skin from the inside.*

[devil_or_angle]

*the way kalluto's lips pull tight around his tongue, killua can almost believe he's entering him in a different manner, his missing cock splitting him open and thrusting hot inside him. the simulation of it is enough to get him rocking his hips, null crotch bumping eagerly into his brother's hand working down below. he forces himself deeper into the only hole he's got, scraping against his molars as he tilts his head back for better access, brings his other hand up to his neck and thumbs his fervid pulse.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto softens the urging pressure from his lips, writhing wet and snug around Killua's tongue as it slides and pushes through his mouth. His brother's pubic bone thumps into the back of his hand through their clothes.

He threads the needle, finds something as close as he'll get to a prostate in their plastic prisons. He whimpers, knees buckling, as a screaming moan shakes Killua everywhere they're touching. As Kalluto's frame drops, the hand around his brother's nipple is clenched and twisting, pulling on the sensitive nub like a spanner he'd stepped on with his whole weight. He falls inches then recovers, his elbow digging between Killua's thighs as his arm twists, seeking the best leverage to hammer the nerves he just found.*

[devil_or_angle]

*their mouths break apart in a slap of spit when kalluto wails, doubling over as his fingers mash the button he's just found. it seems his inner nerves are still intact even without a point to access them, just like the ones that sting when kalluto twists killua's nipple, causing him to draw in a choked gasp. pain like this, he's used to, breathes through it and hunches over to gather kalluto closer to his chest, lessening the pull. his arms hold him secure as he writhes and moans, angling his hips so his jerking elbow grinds into his own enshrouded erogenous zone. all the while he watches, lips parted to pant, feeling unusually lucid and seizing the opportunity to soak in the sight of his brother in ecstasy.*

[descendsanathema]

*With anguished cries, Kalluto leans forward, sinking more of his body weight into Killua's arms as they hold him up. He wants to tilt his neck back, wants Killua to kiss him, but can't unclench everything that's making him hunch, from dipping shoulders that push his chest together down to toes unnaturally curled around themselves.

As he flexes out the fingers, the hand around his brother's nipple falls, nails digging across Killua's chest with just the weight of the arm, soon falling loose, only following the trajectory down to between his legs. He pries into the space between his clenching thighs which barely have room for one arm, almost bruising already from the pressure, and manages to squeeze in a hand, more fingers, more stimulation.

It's then that he notices Killua shifting himself, not redirecting Kalluto, to poise his own nebulous bundle of pelvic nerves against Kalluto's pneumatic elbow. He is awash with guilt that he ever imagined Killua could be compared to his other brothers, a flash which dissolves against more wracking rhapsodies. The contrast, the fresh slate flooding with warmth and comfort and light, has him brimming with euphoria, spilling out in words he did not expect - especially a nickname which he thought was forever lost among the sands of time and the machinations of Illumi.*

I love you, Kiru...

[devil_or_angle]

*killua gives a groan as kalluto drags his hand down his chest, elbow rubbing against his brother's crotch in his urgency to cram his hands between his thighs. hearing that nickname in his voice, strained with ecstasy and love, could rewrite every cruel iteration of it illumi ever spoke, make it something just their own. it could only be better if he were causing that clawing, curling pleasure himself.*

karu...

*seeing how much he's struggling to get the right stimulation, killua wonders how he can help. he realizes, ironically, that in pushing against kalluto's elbow to stimulate himself, he's adding to the pressure of his hand, and he holds his head ducked against his chest as he rolls his body against his, a rocking ship on stormy seas.*

[descendsanathema]

*When Killua calls him that, he relaxes and tightens himself all over as the sound wafts through memories, equal parts lucid, dull and void, all resonating and bright when it passes. Killua's whole body urges itself against Kalluto's sweet spot through his arm, choking short a a howling moan to a whimpering gasp. He bucks his own hips into the motion, a body out of control that defrosts the catatonia that wanted to push him into a little ball before.

His back arches, now, and as he shifts his other hand on top of the one whose arm Killua is thrusting, he torques his whole upper body down into the distal joints of his fingers. It's his brother now who is compressed, chin tucked against his chest, and the earlier pang of wanting to kiss him surges up again, unruly deafening.*

Kiss me. Please~

[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.