Sticky Cloth – MomoKai – PG-13
It was an honest mistake.
Well, maybe not really honest, or really a mistake, but he certainly didn’t mean for it to happen. Or perhaps, in the back of his mind, he sort of wanted to do it to see his reaction—though that was kind of farfetched because Momoshiro is sure that there’s no sign of intelligence in his brain when he’s doing … well, doing Kaidoh.
And when they are doing, they’d be coming. And that means stickiness, no one wants to deal with stickiness, especially after that one time where some had managed to get into his hair—and people thought it was a new type of gel! It was mortifying! And sort of kinky. But nonetheless mortifying, and stinky too. So to avoid stickiness, each of them carries around a bag of tissues. Yes, both of them. All the time. Not like they ever agreed on it or something, because you never know when they might be doing each other. Which is part of the thrill, but he could do without the stickiness.
Sometimes, if he finishes up before Kaidoh, he briefly thinks about running away so that he doesn’t have to deal with Kaidoh’s stickiness. But he’s so overwhelmed by this relaxing wave coursing through his veins, shaking him and making him all droopy and woobly, that he stops thinking, and any plans of running away turn to dust. Then he finishes off Kaidoh, who is always pulling his face into this weird expression; like a derp expression, that’s probably the best way to describe it. He comes in a rather derpy way, Momoshiro tries hard not to laugh about it afterwards, because that’s sort of awkward.
Well, the entire thing is awkward.
Especially right this moment, when Kaidoh is looking down at his hand which is clutching his green bandana.
“It was a mistake,” blurts out Momoshiro.
Kaidoh lifts the bandana, holding it up as if its contaminated by poison—and it probably is—and dangles it in front of Momoshiro’s face. Long enough for both of them to see the white stains clobbered all over the innocent green cloth, and hell, there’s even some dripping off at the bottom. Momoshiro squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth pulled in a very wide grimace, and he hopes Kaidoh won’t punch him right this instant, that would really hurt, especially since he was still sort of half-naked.
“I didn’t have anything else …” he offers as an excuse. Except he’s got a full package of tissues riding up his ass right this moment, but he tries hard to cover it up as he keeps up his goofy expression in front of Kaidoh.
Kaidoh is not amused. He might not even be angry, because he’s not punching Momoshiro, or yelling insults at him, and that’s actually the part that worries him. A non-responsive Mamushi is worse than a responsive one. Momoshiro stutters out a chuckle, hoping Kaidoh will forgive him. But he doesn’t say anything, he simply stuffs the semen-ridden cloth into Momoshiro’s face, and then struts away without saying a damn word.
Momoshiro tears the sticky cloth away from his face and now he feels sticky and salty, and it’s nasty. Well, he probably deserved it. He mumbles some curse words under his breath and finally dresses himself again, and then takes the bandana with him, no matter how much he wants to burn the damn thing. He’d rather not have Kaidoh hate him forever so that they might never do sticky things together again.
It really was a mistake though, Momoshiro wasn’t thinking—he never does when Kaidoh’s doing him, how could he? All he could think about was that Kaidoh’s hand felt fucking awesome, and that he should learn to use his mouth instead, but that’s an issue for another time. During this awesome jerkfest, somehow Momoshiro managed to slip Kaidoh’s bandana off. He doesn’t really remember when it happened, because he’s always fisting some of Kaidoh’s hair when he’s about to shoot, so probably around there. Then it was Kaidoh’s turn, and Momoshiro being one of rather low intelligence at that point (not always of course, just right after he’s relaxed and brimming with satisfaction), forgot he was holding Kaidoh’s infamous bandana, and used it to … catch the stickiness.
Well alright, it was his fault. Damnit. He shouldn’t be wearing stupid bandanas when they’re doing it—it’s a hazard! Or something like that. Either way, Momoshiro should probably apologize. That is, if he could ever bring himself to apologize, because the words are not coming out of his mouth as he stares at Kaidoh the very next day. Because how can he? Kaidoh is his rival, first and foremost, and they never talked about what they did, some sort of manly code of not admitting they were being sticky together, so how was he supposed to bring it up? Momoshiro shuffles on the spot and stuffs his hand in his pocket.
Last night when he came home, Momoshiro actually did the decent thing and washed the damn cloth, and now it’s sitting in his pocket, waiting for him to take it out and give it to Kaidoh right as he says how sorry he is for using it to catch his nasty stuff. How hard is it to say ‘sorry I made you come into your own bandana, which is probably your favourite’? That would mean he’d be talking about their ‘doing’ and they never talk about doing that, and Momoshiro wasn’t going to be the first one to start it. Well, this is awkward.
He’s wearing a different bandana today though, so that’s a good thing.
Okay, that still doesn’t work, none of this is working, and Kaidoh is finally fed up with Momoshiro staring at him, that he gets up and leaves—to finish his practice most likely. Momoshiro is left behind with a wide open mouth, flabbergasted that he couldn’t even conjure up an apology, and give the snake back his bandana, make amends, and teach him how to use his mouth.
Momoshiro feels deprived the entire day, as they do it at least once a day. Preferably twice, and if he’s lucky, he can go in for a third, if Kaidoh’s willing, or asleep. Not like he’ll ever tell him. But he does have to tell him that he’s genuinely sorry for dirtying his favourite bandana. Then they can go back to doing sticky things again. Hopefully later this day.
Except those damn words will not come out of his mouth, not when Kaidoh is glaring at him the entire day, looking at him as if he killed a puppy or two. God damnit, why is that Mamushi being so difficult? Can’t he see Momoshiro is trying to apologize? He’s got the damn bandana, all clean and washed, in his pocket right now—all he needs to do is give it back to him.
But he’s already wearing a new bandana, so maybe that means he’s forgiven him a little bit?
Momoshiro sneaks a peek at Kaidoh, who catches his gaze, and snarls at him. Okay, maybe not, not in a million years—that guy’s a freak when it comes to bandanas. And Momoshiro just had to go ahead and do that, ugh, this sucks. He wants to do sticky things damnit, not worry about apologizing.
So when Kaidoh makes a beeline straight to home, without even hopping over to their usual spot where they do each other, Momoshiro feels absolutely drained. That bastard, he wasn’t going to forgive him! Ugh, and he’s really turned on right now, has been all day really, because he can’t stop thinking about asking Kaidoh to use his mouth instead, except that sort of seems like a slim chance right now. A very fat chance actually, since Kaidoh’s avoiding doing anything sticky with him. Momoshiro releases his sexual frustration on an innocent dirty sock that was lying on his floor, because that’s all he’s gonna get for today. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll say sorry and give him back his bandana.
“Mamushi,” calls out Momoshiro. Kaidoh stops running his laps and turns towards him. He doesn’t say anything, much like yesterday, and suddenly he feels all nervous and stuff. What if Kaidoh doesn’t forgive him? What if they will never do each other again? He’s not the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about it last night, right?
He swallows, and then scratches his nose and looks at anything besides Kaidoh, besides the new yellow bandana on his head, and besides the way his shorts are riding up his legs. “Uhm,” he hesitates. He’s not quite sure why it’s so hard to say sorry. He fumbles around trying to find the right words to say without directly saying what they were doing before, but he comes up with a blank. Kaidoh hisses out loud and then continues to run, and he leaves Momoshiro alone again with his mouth agape.
Momoshiro is experiencing withdrawal symptoms, if those even exist, because for sure, by now, he should have gotten off with Kaidoh, but he hasn’t. He still fucking hasn’t, and Momoshiro’s horny and he wants to slam Kaidoh up against the wall and fuck him because he’s being a douchebag for ignoring him.
Certainly, it’s not Momoshiro who’s being the douchebag by not apologizing—that has nothing to do with it.
They’re alone in the changing room, getting ready to go home after a long, long, long and agonizing day for Momoshiro. He’s about to crumble down and fall flat on the ground; he needs Kaidoh to do him, he can’t live without it, it’s honestly like his drug or something. Or maybe he’s just a sex addict. Though if that were true, he’d be going to the hookers right now, except he’s crawling towards Kaidoh, who’s still looking at him as if he killed a puppy or three.
“Mamushiiii,” he drawls out, completely out of energy and very, very horny. He wants to do Kaidoh now, the floor or the bench; he doesn’t care. Well okay, the floor might seem more comfortable. Either way, he just wants him naked.
Kaidoh looks over at Momoshiro as he ties his shoes and gives him a hiss. Nooo, it’s that hiss that makes him shiver to his knees when he’s horny, Kaidoh’s not helping him right now!
“What do you want,” Kaidoh finally spits out.
You. Except Momoshiro’s too much of a chicken to actually say that out loud. So instead, he shoots forward, catching Kaidoh’s lips in mid-air, and making the both of them fall off the bench and land on the floor. Well, he was hoping for the floor either way, so it doesn’t really matter. They fight, mostly because Kaidoh’s trying to get away from Momoshiro, and Momoshiro is simply a horny guy who wants to hump Kaidoh’s leg, which he is, actually. When did that happen?
“That’s disgusting,” says Kaidoh as he finally pushes Momoshiro off of him.
And then Kaidoh spots the small piece of green peeping out of Momoshiro’s pocket. Somehow it managed to pop out while they were writhing down on the floor. Momoshiro panics and tries to hide it for some kind of retarded reason, but Kaidoh quickly pulls the entire bandana out of his pocket. It’s clean, shiny, and breathes like Egyptian cotton—Momoshiro did a damn good job cleaning the stains out of it. It looked better than it ever had looked before when it was stuck on Kaidoh’s head like glue.
“It’s clean,” he states simply.
“No, I carry around a bandana full of nasty gooey white stuff just for fucking fun,” bites Momoshiro back. “Of course it’s clean.”
“Moron, you should have given it to me sooner.”
“Yeah well, you were giving me nasty looks.”
“Because you made me … do … Ah shut up, you stupid idiot! I don’t care anymore.”
Momoshiro doesn’t care either, and leans in and kisses Kaidoh, who doesn’t protest this time. After exchanging a good amount of saliva, Kaidoh breaks free from Momoshiro’s lips and he looks at him with a glare—the one that says he killed a puppy or four—and hisses.
“Use my bandana again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Momoshiro rolls his eyes. At least he didn’t say that he’d stop doing him instead, that would be much worse.
“Stop humping my leg, you fucking freak!” he then yells out.
“What, I’m not!” Well, maybe he is.
“Fshuuu, you horny dog!”
They end up humping each other’s legs, like dogs. Neither of them cares, because both of them are like horny dogs, and Momoshiro is glad he’s got that thing over with, and he’s doing Kaidoh again. He still tries hard not to laugh at the derp face he pulls when he comes, he knows better than that. He’ll laugh in a few seconds instead, because that bastard deserves it for not doing him for one whole day. They didn’t use any sort of tissues this time, resulting in some very messy clothes.
At least he didn’t have to apologize.
Soon enough, they fall back into their regular routine of doing each other about twice a day. Thrice if you count it when Kaidoh’s half asleep while studying.
“Hey Mamushi, I bought you a present!” says Momoshiro happily as Kaidoh is wiping off the stickiness.
Kaidoh merely grunts, probably not in the mood to talk. He never is, but even more so right after doing their business.
“When I saw it, I just thought about how perfect it was for you—like it was made for you,” he rambles.
Kaidoh hisses this time, which really means; hurry the fuck up and say what you want, moron.
Momoshiro digs his hand into his pocket, his fingertips grazing across a delicate piece of cloth, then pulls it out of his pants. He stretches the fabric between his hands, in front of Kaidoh’s face, and gives him a big grin.
“What do you think?”
The floor makes a pleasant meeting with Momoshiro’s face and Kaidoh angrily stomps away. Momoshiro is grinning, despite feeling like Kaidoh knocked the shit out of him, and then the piece of cloth flies down, right in front of Momoshiro’s face. He doesn’t get Kaidoh’s problem; what’s wrong with those cute little sperm-men on a cute blue bandana? They were even wearing condoms, come on, how is that not cute?
It is weeks later when Kaidoh gets revenge on Momoshiro, and he has long forgotten about the incident already, since his mind is full of doing dirty things with Kaidoh, mostly involving his mouth. Kaidoh’s mouth, that is, not his. Kaidoh gives him a jar of gel, right as Momoshiro has run out of his own, and makes sure everyone on the team sees him give it to Momoshiro. Momoshiro happily uses it the very next morning, until the familiar scent of salt enters his nostrils, and he realizes what it really is.
Except it’s already in his hair, and damn; that stuff sure makes some good gel.
He probably deserved that one.
Momoshiro makes sure to ask Kaidoh just how long he’s been saving up to fill the entire jar.