Kink: In Public
Series: Monochrome Factor
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
One of these days Shirogane is going to go too far.
"Really, why do they keep it so hot in these schools?" Shirogane murmured. His voice was soft, but he was leaning over to speak directly into Akira's ear as if to prevent the words from being overheard. Akira fought a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature as Shirogane's breath ghosted across the shell of his ear. From the corner of his eye Akira saw Shirogane flicking the buttons on his jacket open one at a time, slowly like he was making a show of it.
"Stop it," Akira hissed under his breath, drawing a few odds looks from the students closest to him.
"But I'm so overheated," Shirogane complained. "Aren't you feeling overheated, Akira-kun?" He smiled, pink-glossed lips curving in a smug little arch as he shrugged his dark jacket off his shoulders and reached for the buttons of his shirt. Aya and Kengo were both out of class today, still injured from their last battle, and Shirogane was taking full advantage of the fact that only Akira could see and hear him.
Gritting his teeth, Akira turned to face the window, staring outside like his life depended on it. Nobody would question him not paying attention to the lecture; it was rare enough for Akira to be in class at all, especially without Aya sitting on him to keep him there. Shirogane was in Kengo's empty seat, on Akira's other side, so now he couldn't see what the shin was up to.
Of course, it didn't stop him from being able to hear it. The rustle of cloth was bad enough, but the shameless little moan of pleasure Shirogane gave was much worse. "Mm, that's a little better, but still not enough," the shin said. "Then again, maybe it's not the temperature. Maybe it's just being so close to you that has me too hot."
Akira clenched his hand on his pencil, squeezing hard enough he was a little surprised it didn't break. He pretended it was Shirogane's flesh under his hands instead - and then wished he hadn't, because the first image that sprang to mind wasn't the annoying spirit's neck. Not with Shirogane still moaning like that.
"Something wrong, Akira-kun?" Shirogane's voice was right in his ear again, and Akira barely stopped himself from jumping in reaction. "You look flushed."
Shut UP, Akira wrote in his notebook, the characters bold and dark. It was as close as he could come to yelling at the bastard the way he wanted to.
"Why? Nobody can hear me but you," Shirogane said, chuckling softly. "You know, if you'd just confess that it turns you on to watch me, I might not torment you so much."
Akira had to bite down on his lip to stop a snarl from escaping him, because yeah, right. Admitting that Shirogane had any effect on him other than annoying him would only encourage the asshole.
"Well, I might not torment you so much when we're not in private," Shirogane acknowledged, his chuckle growing louder. It cut off in a gasp, a needy little sound that Akira had heard far too many times in the night lately - and not always from Shirogane, much as he hated to admit it.
The next rustle of fabric was louder, and Akira was so distracted by the heavy sound of the jacket and shirt hitting the ground that he missed the much quieter shuffle of footsteps. He nearly choked when Shirogane sauntered into view and draped himself over the windowsill, back pressed to the glass and arranged so that Akira was now looking straight into his lap. His skin was so unearthly pale that it was only next to the pure white of his hair that it had any colour at all, with only the slightly darker circles of his nipples and the occasional scar to break the smooth expanse. He was slender, with no obvious muscles to mark the inhuman strength Akira knew he had, but there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. With his shirt off like that his features suddenly seemed much less feminine, even with the light makeup he liked to affect.
It wasn't until Shirogane smirked at him again and reached for the fly of his pants that Akira realized he was staring. He jerked his eyes back to his notebook, feeling a flush creep up his cheeks as he struggled to control his breathing. His pants were too tight, straining against his rapidly swelling cock, and his heart was pounding far too fast. Damn it, it wasn't his fault. Shirogane could wring a reaction out of a stone, especially when he was deliberately trying like this. It didn't mean anything.
Even with his gaze firmly on his book, he could still see Shirogane out of the corner of his eyes. Not enough to see the undoubtedly still smug expression on the shin's face, but enough that he couldn't miss it when Shirogane slipped his hand inside his pants and pressed down with his palm, groaning as he arched up into the pressure.
Desperate for a distraction, Akira tried actually focusing on the lecture. Unfortunately their math teacher had the most boring, monotonous drone in the world for a voice, and anyway Akira was so far behind he had no idea what the man was trying to teach them. The seemingly random mash of letters, numbers, and symbols was all gibberish to him.
Then again, that might have been due to the way it was so hard to concentrate on anything but the increasingly needy whimpers and moans Shirogane was making. The bastard was shameless, totally shameless, jerking off in a classroom full of people. Never mind that most of them couldn't see him; he could see them.
Shifting in a futile effort to ease the pressure on his erection, Akira barely managed to choke down a moan of his own. Class had barely started, it was still nearly an hour until he could make a break for the roof. Changing locations wouldn't stop Shirogane, but at least it would mean Akira wouldn't have to fight quite so hard to keep anybody from wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
"Mm, Akira-kun," Shirogane purred, the breathy hitch in his voice an indication that he wasn't far from orgasm. Akira hated the fact that he could tell that just by listening. "You might want to pay attention."
As if. While Akira was sure that would make Shirogane ecstatic - the shin was always trying to convince him to watch, or better yet, participate - there was no way in hell he was giving the bastard the satisfaction. Or, more importantly, the encouragement.
This time there was a thread of laughter in Shirogane's words, though his voice was even more strained. "No, really. You should pay attention in class."
In class? Why would Shirogane want him to...
Belatedly Akira realized everyone was giggling, and someone was standing in the aisle next to him. He jerked his eyes up just as the teacher slammed his hand down on the book in front of him. "Nikaidou-kun!" the teacher barked, and from the irritation in his voice it wasn't the first time he'd called Akira's name. "If you feel like joining the rest of us, since you were considerate enough to come to class in the first place?"
"I..." Akira winced when his voice emerged husky. He didn't dare stand up, though the teacher was glaring at him hard enough to bore a hole straight through him. He was just tall enough, or the desks were just low enough, that if he stood up it would be glaringly obvious to everyone what his problem was. "I'm... really not feeling well," he gasped, trying to sound sick instead of aroused.
"Do you really expect me to buy that from the student with more missed classes than the rest of his classmates combined? Although," the teacher frowned at him thoughtfully. "You are terribly flushed. Perhaps..."
Shirogane gave a low cry, and now that he was looking away from his desk Akira couldn't avoid seeing the shin jerk his hips up, his slender fingers wrapped tightly around his cock, the head flushed and dark as he came.
It was too much. "I'm going to be sick," Akira blurted out, and bolted for the door. Hopefully if he was moving fast enough, nobody would realize the truth. Ignoring the teacher's sputtered protests, he slammed out of the classroom and ran through the hall, heading for the nearest boy's washroom.
Blessedly, there was nobody inside it, though that could change at any moment. Akira lunged for one of the stalls and locked the door behind him. "Doppler release," he shouted, and felt the dark power sweep over him as his spirit separated from the false body that housed him.
It always felt like drowning, sinking into an endless sea of water and bubbles. No matter how many times he experienced it, Akira could never stop himself from trying to hold his breath, or prevent the panicked little cry that escaped him when his body rebelled and the water flooded his lungs.
Then it was over, leaving him in his shin form. Not a moment too soon, as another boy entered the washroom not three seconds later, humming to himself as he moved to one of the urinals. He wouldn't be able to sense Akira, unless by some odd coincidence he was able to see spirits.
Akira couldn't wait until he'd left. He shoved one hand down his pants, groaning with a mix of relief and need as his hand curled around his cock at last. He clamped his other hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the noises spilling from him as he stroked hard.
"Why are you stifling yourself?" Shirogane murmured in his ear, leaning in right through the door. Akira could feel his body heat, though the other shin held himself a bare inch away. "It's not like he can hear you."
As he tumbled into orgasm with a shout he couldn't contain, Akira tried to tell himself it wasn't the feel of Shirogane's strong body against his that had pushed him over the edge, or the seductive purr of the low voice in his ear.
When it was over he leaned against the door, panting for air, listening as the unknown boy finished his business and zipped himself up without the slightest knowledge of what had just happened not three feet away.
Shirogane was perched on the back of the toilet, lounging with his usual careless grace, but the look of heat and hunger in his eyes as he watched Akira spoiled his attempt to look casual. "You know, if you would just let me touch you, it could be so much better," he wheedled, as he always did after he successfully managed to push Akira into jerking off.
"No. Hands off," Akira growled. That was their bargain, because Akira couldn't stop Shirogane from pulling stunts like this but he could at least keep the bastard from winning outright. It was a matter of pride, damn it. Shirogane knew perfectly well that if he tried to touch, Akira could and would stab him, especially if he was already in his shin form. He knew because it had happened, the first time.
The obvious disappointment in Shirogane's expression did nothing to dim the hunger. If anything, it only made it flare higher. Akira shivered, and wondered how long it would be before that hunger drove Shirogane to try something even more outrageous.
He tried not to wonder how long he could last before that hunger consumed him, as well.