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“Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?”
Domeki’s tongue swipes his bottom lip, cleaning off the coat of cum on his lips. His question is blank and dumbfounded, but Watanuki knows deep in his heart this was Domeki trying to make him uneasy. He even gave him a box of tissues this time and Domeki flat out ignored them.
In his mind, he flips between alternative ways to word it but none of them suffice. There’s no easy way to reprimand someone about this.
“You know what you're doing.” Is what he settles with, an exasperated sigh released.
Domeki pays him no mind, his tongue traveling from his wrist to forearm, cleaning an excess streak of–
Watanuki clutches his hair, squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head forward.
“That's so gross. Would it kill you to be normal?” He squirms in place, his hairs standing on their ends from repulsion. “If you're hungry, I have some leftover rice in the fridge. I can make you some ochazuke.” Not something he wants to do, but can and will.
“That sounds nice.” Domeki hums, closing the distance and lapping the bead at the top of his flaccid cock; the spillage now leaking down his shaft. Once he feels his cock twitch, he realizes he's going down uncharted territory that he should not be venturing down.
“In exchange! In exchange!” He grabs Domeki by the shoulders and pulls him away. “That’s what I meant, you idiot.”
“In exchange for what?”
This man was despicable. If anything, he should let him starve instead. If he wants to act like a stray cat, he should treat him like one.
“Leaving me alone.” He shoos him with his hand, waving it towards the door before turning around. “I need to change anyways.”
It wasn't particularly pleasant to change with Domeki in the room. His stolid demeanor always remained intact, and it made him anxious, as if he was doing something wrong. With every move, he became more and more conscious than Domeki was watching him. It was just less stressful to change in private like he did originally.
“Why can't I watch? You're not embarrassed, are you?” A genuine inquiry on Domeki's part, he thinks.
“No.” He snaps. “I just want a little privacy. There's nothing wrong with that.”
“I saw you undress though.” Domeki blinks from below, his knees still firmly planted to the mat.
“That's– it's different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Now stop with the questions.” Watanuki grumbles, grabbing his bundled shirt off the ground.
“Well– where do you anticipate I change then?”
“I don't care. That's not my responsibility to figure out, is it?”
Domeki goes silent, his presence lingering behind him. Once he looks behind his shoulder, Domeki is gone. The thought of ‘good riddance’ crosses his mind. Watanuki fumbles with his shirt in his hand, pinching the fabric angrily underneath. It's fine. It'll be fine. He pulls his shirt over his head, and tugs it down, hiding his crotch. The rest of the process is relatively easy once Domeki isn't in the room. Things naturally worked that way, no matter the situation.
Once he steps outside, he's face to face with a fully clothed Domeki, and Domeki is the first to speak.
“You're hard again.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” He uneasily utters out, his inflection as stable as a current of water now that he hears it.
Domeki's hand traces the confines of his slacks, his fingertips brushing up against the base of his cock. It's utterly pathetic; embarrassing even. Watanuki shudders, and then smacks his hand away.
“It'll go away on its own. Hormones.” He doesn't like that excuse, he hates it actually but it's the best he can come up with on a whim. “Are you hungry or not? I don't want to serve ochazuke for dinner, so I'll try and finish it before it can qualify as lunch.”
Domeki falls to his knees in an instant, his blank stare searing into him. It makes him stumble back against the door.
“H-Hey…” He sputters out nervously. “What's up with you?”
“Let me help.”
“No way.” It's his fault in the first place for getting so aroused at such a dumb thing. What kind of person gets hard right after receiving a blow job too? That annoying relentless behavior fit Domeki more than him. “Get off your knees by the way. Don't you have some dignity? It's humiliating to see you in this position. You have no shame. If someone else saw you like this, they'd probably thought you lost your mind.” His mind drifts to Domeki's fan girls as he says this, their hardly contained glee heard and seen after each shot performed by Domeki during practice. Shortly after, presents would be given for Domeki's hard work. That scene and Domeki's behavior during it didn't fit what was currently happening right now.
“Who’s going to see me like this besides you?” A sight reserved only for him, it feels like an ugly thing sort of thing that makes him sick and most importantly, guilty.
“I don't know. Do you think I know what goes on in your life? Cause I don't, and I don't care for that fact. What you do has no concern with me at all, just so you know.”
“Stop being so stubborn.” Domeki calmly retorts.
“I'm the stubborn one? You have some nerve. You're delusional too, don't you know?”
“What’s bothering you right now?” Domeki inquires, ceasing the banter.
“Everything!” Domeki. The idea of a second blow job. Dinner. Work tomorrow. Him getting off on the idea of Domeki eating his cum. If the market has the right ingredients for him. The way he might actually accept this invitation. Whether any spirits will follow him home. The way he maybe wants it even.
Turning down offers wasn't anything difficult for him, but Domeki made things more difficult than it had to be.
“Let me help then.”
Watanuki furrows his brows at the willing being below him.
“It'll make things easier– for you.” This was the opposite of easy. How was Domeki supposed to help when he was at fault for his distress in the first place.
“You complicate things.” Watanuki grumbles.
“So do you.”
“As if.” He mutters, his fingers curling towards his palm. “Fine– under one condition– no, two! First, you can't lick up anything off of me.”
“Okay?” Domeki responds, puzzled.
“And two…” He didn't think of a second one thoroughly. He said it on a whim, afraid his first wouldn't be specific enough. Maybe not making lunch or dinner would be nice, but then it would be a waste of food and he can't just not eat. He could just send Domeki to go shopping by himself, but he might not pick the right kind of things–
“Hey.”
“Be quiet for a second.” Watanuki hisses. Domeki’s expression was getting to him. He knows the other is as smug and cocky as one can be. “And two…” The room falls into silence. Somewhere, a clock ticks
“You'll let me repay the favour.” Domeki’s eyes widen underneath him, not by much, but it's visible enough for one that was observantly and attentively watching– like him. His victory washes over the shame enshrouding him.
“...Fine.”
“Excuse me?"
“I said that's fine.”
“I know that! I just,” Didn't expect him to actually say yes. “ Aren't you uh, scared?” He's never asked formally like this, it always quickly before his mind could catch up with his body. It was easier to label them as something else that way, a fluke, a mistake or an impulse.
“Why would I be?”
“Cause it's weird.” He blurts out, shoving his hands in front of him. “How do you not see this whole thing is weird?! You can't seriously be alright with it.” It's supposed to be more intimate, and personal. Not this.
“I am.”
Domeki ignores him and his protests while removing his jeans and underwear, letting them pool around his ankles. Domeki holds him firmly by the waist and heat envelops his cock.
Half way through, he begins to wonder if someone like him deserves such a comfort.
Domeki doesn't lick it up, but he still is a lying pervert because he swallows it directly instead. Maybe it's his fault. Telling Domeki that he felt he was about to cum didn't seem like the best idea.
“Spit it out, spit it out! Come on now–” Shaking Domeki by the shoulders, he pleads helplessly. It's futile after the third shake. Domeki shrugs, and sticks out his clean coated tongue.
“You’re a freak, you know that?”
“Says the guy who got hard twice within the same hour.”
“I don't have to take this.” He buttons his pants up and scurries to stand up. "I'm going to get dinner started. I have to go to the store before it gets dark.”
“Oi,” Domeki calls, his mouth shaped into a fine neat line when their gazes meet. “Don't you have to uphold your part of the deal?”
“No way! You didn't listen to my first one.”
“I didn't lick up anything up though.”
“What you did most definitely counts. It's a breach in the rules.” Watanuki crosses his arms and huffs, the hallway beckoning for him to storm out. It wouldn't be hard to do and it would most definitely help him escape this situation, even if Domeki followed him.
Domeki stares at him then folds his hands together. “It’s okay then.”
“Huh?”
“You don't have to do it. I just wanted you to feel good.”
‘Feel good.’ The wording makes his face flush. Not the typical ‘I wanted you to look less stupid’ or a scolding but something a little more grating to hear. It makes him ill, both physically and mentally. He falls into Domeki's lap and gently pushes the other onto the ground with his hand. It feels more like guiding based on the compliance Domeki provides. Underneath, he can feel Domeki's stiff cock poking him. He doesn't know how and why he's hard, but he doesn't ask, he only shifts position and moves his hips upwards which makes Domeki's breath hitch.
“How am I supposed to cook dinner at a decent time if we keep doing this?”
“You'll figure it out.”
“You're the worst.”
“Mhm.”