[ He feels the mattress dip behind him as Aak shuffles closer, feels the warmth of the other's body pressing up against his back, and for one embarrassing moment, when he feels the soft fur at Aak's jawline tickle ever so slightly against his throat, he can't help thinking that it feels kind of ... nice. Aak smells a little different just by virtue of looking like that; not bad, but just different, due to the way his fur holds onto the scent of the bodywash in their shared shitty baths. It's ... good. He'd like it in a different situation, he thinks.
Anyway, then none of that matters, because deft hands massages up into his chest, and Fuuta promptly yelps like a cat that's gotten a faucet turned on it.
Like, he'd been doing the same for himself, in an attempt to squeeze it out? Except it feels way different when it's someone else doing it as it turns out, and Fuuta ends up going completely tense where he's sitting, voice escaping in a prolonged groan-whimper that he tries to muffle halfway through by clenching his jaw. Too bad gritted teeth won't hide the way his thighs are pressed together, calves taut, and the cups crumple slightly under his grip as he fights the urge to double over. Mortifyingly, there's the sound of liquid pattering into the cups, drip by drop, promptly coaxed out of his chest by that deft touch.
Even worse: there's no way he's actually going to admit it, but it ... had felt sort of good. Enough that his thoughts are left spinning in a combination of confusion and denial. -- like, maybe it was just a fluke? He was just surprised. Yeah, that's all. That's all, surely! It won't feel like that after this! ... surely. ]
[Maybe, if they were each a bit less argumentative, there could be a world where Fuuta just gets to cuddle Aak and enjoy the fluff. It's a big maybe for the two right now, of course.]
[Aak bites down a laugh at Fuuta's yelp. Still, the shaking of his chest can be felt with how closely they're pressed together. He can't provoke him right now, not until he's cleaned the older boy out. He wanted to be at least as good as his word. He could save any barbs or teasing for when Fuuta was shamefully lucid at the end, he thinks.]
[He flicks a finger over a nipple before pulling his hands back to do the whole gesture again.]
[While he can't get a good look at Fuuta's face from here, he can glance down at the rest of his body. The way his limbs shift, the drips of milk, the rise and fall of his chest, they're all things Aak can't get enough of.]
[ Oh, he knows the fucker's laughing behind his back, and it's less a question of 'if' Fuuta's going to try and pull Aak's tail in revenge after this, but 'how hard.'
But for now he'll hold off because, as much as he fucking hates this whole fiasco ... Aak is admittedly making more progress than he'd managed on his own. A second squeeze of the hands earns a more generous spurt of milk to splatter into the cups, and Fuuta shudders as some of the weird pressure in his chest eases off. -- Aak's tail is safe just until the pressure's dealt with completely, then it's over for him!
Fuuta's been quick to figure out that simply holding his breath is the best way to suppress his voice, and so the next few kneads of Aak's hand is met with silence save the continue splash into those cups, Fuuta's body tellingly tensing and trembling with each squeeze. But unfortunately for Fuuta, and luckily for Aak, Fuuta's lung capacity would be nothing to write home about even without his injuries. ]
-- aah -- wai', wait -- [ He gasps loudly after the next knead at his chest, hunching over as he wheezes for air. His nipples feel even more sensitive as his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, and Fuuta can feel sweat bead down his jawline as he slurs, ] -- gimme a moment, I can't ... need a break --
[Aak's saved his disrespectful ass so many times by being competent. Alternatively, the fact he was so competent only enabled his disrespectful behavior. So long as the job got done, that was what mattered, right? Each drop of milk was extending the goodwill he could then burn.]
[The way he's biting at his hoodie, the distinct lack of breaths, Aak considers making a helpful suggestion but the body interrupts before he can.]
[Aak pulls his hands back the slightest bit, the fingertips just brushing against skin rather than pressing into it. The Feline fits a few quiet chuckles behind the cover of Fuuta's desperate catching-up breaths. Beneath that smile he feels impatience. There was nothing more tempting than being told to take a break. In his head, he imagines moving forward and the older boy crying out.]
[In the real world, he goes for something a little more crass,]
Didja come? [his tone is extremely punchable] It's cool if you did.
[ Fuuta snaps back that retort almost before Aak's even done speaking, though the bristly edge to those words is rather badly undermined by how hoarse the words come, and the way his voice cracks, breathless and wobbly.
Also, all it'd take is a quick glance down to make it clear that no, he indeed, didn't come ... but he sure is hard, with a distinct tent pitched into the front of his sweatpants. ]
I jus' -- need a moment. Is all.
[ In truth, he needs more than that moment to fully calm down, an uncomfortably intense heat seeping all the way from his chest down to the pit of his stomach. But the last thing he wants is to deal with more of Aak's stupid wheedling and prodding, so -- Fuuta swallows thickly before taking another mouthful of his hoodie's collar between his teeth and gritting past the mouthful of damp fabric: ]
'ou can kee' goi'.
[ It's fine. It's fine! He just has to hold on a bit more, and he'll have weathered this embarrassing trial. He's sure he can last that long. What kind of guy would come just from getting his chest groped, anyway? ]
[A discussion comes to mind for Aak, where he was arguing about how kinky the whole lactation thing was. He argued it was fairly low considering it was a normal human trait. Now, though, he wonders... is it kinkier to get off on getting milked or doing the milking? It's extremely tempting to use Fuuta's trust and just make a grab for his hard-on.]
[... but if he can make Fuuta come just from getting milked, that's definitely a win, right?! The humiliation! The kind of face he'd make shamefully hiding it under a pile of milk-stained laundry! Aak's heart practically skips a beat thinking about it.]
Yea, [he swallows hoarsely,] no point in rushing.
[The fact Aak isn't throwing in a taunt is a red flag. He's the most reasonable when he's planning something terrible.]
[Given the go ahead, he brings his hands back to the other's sore and slightly-puffed chest. The first few motions are the same coaxing he did before. Then, he adds a pinch to the end, squeezing both nipples at the same time.]
Fuuta's only excuse is that it's taking all of his focus just to keep himself from unraveling as Aak continues fondling his chest. How the hell was he supposed to pay attention to something like the guy's attitude? His jaw's clenched so hard it's bound to be sore tomorrow, eye squeezed shut, and Fuuta times his breaths to hold it when Aak's fingers knead most firmly into the sore, puffy swell of his chest. And just when he thinks he's acclimated to the rhythm of the motions, and can hold out until he's empty --
there's the pinch to his nipples right when he'd dropped his guard and starting exhaling.
The sensation that races through his nerves is electric, and so abrupt it's almost violent; his voice escapes in a choked moan before he can help himself, his teeth loosening from around that mouthful of sodden fabric as the heat in the pit of his stomach immediately hits a boiling point. And while, by some miracle, he doesn't drop those damn cups, that doesn't mean Aak gets to keep his floor dry.
The hard pinch of Aak's fingertips earns a spray of milk from each side as Fuuta shudders and doubles over, the tops of the cups crumpling in his shivering grasp. And below, the crotch of Fuuta's sweatpants dampen with an unmistakable stain, a fact that he can't even think to hide when he's still shuddering in the aftermath of such sudden orgasm. -- in fact, he hasn't even really processed the fact that he's come, his brain still catching up as he slumps a little into Aak's chest, his bones threatening to turn to jelly as his strength rapidly leaves him. ]
[The first reaction Aak clocks is how the bottom of the hoodie falls down against his hands. Then, there's the obvious one as a thin stream of milk sprays from each nipple. To his credit, that's such an obvious display that Aak doesn't also track the new stain between his legs. He's too preoccupied with what he saw and how the older boy slumps against him.]
[His heart is thumping like a drumset as Fuuta falls back against him. His mind is racing with impulses that all crash into each other and leave him sitting dumb and hyper.]
Haha! [an incredulous, energized laugh] You squirted! You really blew your milk load, didn't you?! Did it leave a mark on the floor? I wanna measure it! You broke a record or something!
[His words come out rapidly, the beginning of each word almost tripping over the end of the last. It possible that what he says isn't even reaching the intended recipient. While he is talking and talking he does shift the way he's holding Fuuta's chest to make sure he's supported. He holds him up against his body, nuzzling up close to him, unlikely to let go unless firmly struck.]
[ Oh god. Oh god. He really just came from getting his chest fondled.
On his end, Fuuta barely even hears Aak's delighted yammering at first, his thoughts spinning wildly as he tries to process the fact that he just orgasmed from getting fucking milked. It's bad enough that the aftershock of climax leaves his brain running sluggish, his body heavy, but also -- oh god. His shoulders shift with a wobbly breath before Fuuta stiffly tries to crane his head away from Aak's nuzzling; some of the contents of one the cups sloshes out, dotting the bedsheet beneath them as he half-heartedly elbows Aak to try and put a little distance between them. Too bad he still can't really muster the strength to sit up, leaving him tangled up in Aak's arms even as he mumbles, ]
Shut up -- let go. [ The words come tight and wobbly; he definitely sounds a little bit like he maaaaybe might cry. ] It's not ... It's not like I meant to -- it's only 'cause you suddenly --
[ He's so mortified he wants to shrivel up and disappear, and that embarrassment translates into a choked hiccough before he abandons the cups on the bed; if one tips over, spilling its contents on the bed, that's no longer his problem. ]
[Aak is continuing to hold onto Fuuta despite his weak struggles. The cups of milk are unimportant right now. The tiny amount of stuff spilled is also unimportant. All that mattered was the vulnerable guy in his arms. His instinct was to keep playing. After all, just because Fuuta was satisfied (for whatever horrible definition of the word applied here) didn't mean he was.]
Huh? Why? [The reason why was pretty obvious but Aak is still riding the high of his little experiment.]
Don't you think I earned a reward for doing so good? [his lips brush against the other's neck, followed by a lengthy and affectionate roll of the tongue]
[Simply put, he's just horny as hell. He wants to get off and the guy in front of him is as good as anything else. The attention he's giving now is a lot less particular and while he wouldn't spend too much energy teasing the older boy now...]
[... Fuuta has no way of knowing that and would be stupid to believe it.]
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Anyway, then none of that matters, because deft hands massages up into his chest, and Fuuta promptly yelps like a cat that's gotten a faucet turned on it.
Like, he'd been doing the same for himself, in an attempt to squeeze it out? Except it feels way different when it's someone else doing it as it turns out, and Fuuta ends up going completely tense where he's sitting, voice escaping in a prolonged groan-whimper that he tries to muffle halfway through by clenching his jaw. Too bad gritted teeth won't hide the way his thighs are pressed together, calves taut, and the cups crumple slightly under his grip as he fights the urge to double over. Mortifyingly, there's the sound of liquid pattering into the cups, drip by drop, promptly coaxed out of his chest by that deft touch.
Even worse: there's no way he's actually going to admit it, but it ... had felt sort of good. Enough that his thoughts are left spinning in a combination of confusion and denial. -- like, maybe it was just a fluke? He was just surprised. Yeah, that's all. That's all, surely! It won't feel like that after this! ... surely. ]
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[Aak bites down a laugh at Fuuta's yelp. Still, the shaking of his chest can be felt with how closely they're pressed together. He can't provoke him right now, not until he's cleaned the older boy out. He wanted to be at least as good as his word. He could save any barbs or teasing for when Fuuta was shamefully lucid at the end, he thinks.]
[He flicks a finger over a nipple before pulling his hands back to do the whole gesture again.]
[While he can't get a good look at Fuuta's face from here, he can glance down at the rest of his body. The way his limbs shift, the drips of milk, the rise and fall of his chest, they're all things Aak can't get enough of.]
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But for now he'll hold off because, as much as he fucking hates this whole fiasco ... Aak is admittedly making more progress than he'd managed on his own. A second squeeze of the hands earns a more generous spurt of milk to splatter into the cups, and Fuuta shudders as some of the weird pressure in his chest eases off. -- Aak's tail is safe just until the pressure's dealt with completely, then it's over for him!
Fuuta's been quick to figure out that simply holding his breath is the best way to suppress his voice, and so the next few kneads of Aak's hand is met with silence save the continue splash into those cups, Fuuta's body tellingly tensing and trembling with each squeeze. But unfortunately for Fuuta, and luckily for Aak, Fuuta's lung capacity would be nothing to write home about even without his injuries. ]
-- aah -- wai', wait -- [ He gasps loudly after the next knead at his chest, hunching over as he wheezes for air. His nipples feel even more sensitive as his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, and Fuuta can feel sweat bead down his jawline as he slurs, ] -- gimme a moment, I can't ... need a break --
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[The way he's biting at his hoodie, the distinct lack of breaths, Aak considers making a helpful suggestion but the body interrupts before he can.]
[Aak pulls his hands back the slightest bit, the fingertips just brushing against skin rather than pressing into it. The Feline fits a few quiet chuckles behind the cover of Fuuta's desperate catching-up breaths. Beneath that smile he feels impatience. There was nothing more tempting than being told to take a break. In his head, he imagines moving forward and the older boy crying out.]
[In the real world, he goes for something a little more crass,]
Didja come? [his tone is extremely punchable] It's cool if you did.
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[ Fuuta snaps back that retort almost before Aak's even done speaking, though the bristly edge to those words is rather badly undermined by how hoarse the words come, and the way his voice cracks, breathless and wobbly.
Also, all it'd take is a quick glance down to make it clear that no, he indeed, didn't come ... but he sure is hard, with a distinct tent pitched into the front of his sweatpants. ]
I jus' -- need a moment. Is all.
[ In truth, he needs more than that moment to fully calm down, an uncomfortably intense heat seeping all the way from his chest down to the pit of his stomach. But the last thing he wants is to deal with more of Aak's stupid wheedling and prodding, so -- Fuuta swallows thickly before taking another mouthful of his hoodie's collar between his teeth and gritting past the mouthful of damp fabric: ]
'ou can kee' goi'.
[ It's fine. It's fine! He just has to hold on a bit more, and he'll have weathered this embarrassing trial. He's sure he can last that long. What kind of guy would come just from getting his chest groped, anyway? ]
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[... but if he can make Fuuta come just from getting milked, that's definitely a win, right?! The humiliation! The kind of face he'd make shamefully hiding it under a pile of milk-stained laundry! Aak's heart practically skips a beat thinking about it.]
Yea, [he swallows hoarsely,] no point in rushing.
[The fact Aak isn't throwing in a taunt is a red flag. He's the most reasonable when he's planning something terrible.]
[Given the go ahead, he brings his hands back to the other's sore and slightly-puffed chest. The first few motions are the same coaxing he did before. Then, he adds a pinch to the end, squeezing both nipples at the same time.]
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Fuuta's only excuse is that it's taking all of his focus just to keep himself from unraveling as Aak continues fondling his chest. How the hell was he supposed to pay attention to something like the guy's attitude? His jaw's clenched so hard it's bound to be sore tomorrow, eye squeezed shut, and Fuuta times his breaths to hold it when Aak's fingers knead most firmly into the sore, puffy swell of his chest. And just when he thinks he's acclimated to the rhythm of the motions, and can hold out until he's empty --
there's the pinch to his nipples right when he'd dropped his guard and starting exhaling.
The sensation that races through his nerves is electric, and so abrupt it's almost violent; his voice escapes in a choked moan before he can help himself, his teeth loosening from around that mouthful of sodden fabric as the heat in the pit of his stomach immediately hits a boiling point. And while, by some miracle, he doesn't drop those damn cups, that doesn't mean Aak gets to keep his floor dry.
The hard pinch of Aak's fingertips earns a spray of milk from each side as Fuuta shudders and doubles over, the tops of the cups crumpling in his shivering grasp. And below, the crotch of Fuuta's sweatpants dampen with an unmistakable stain, a fact that he can't even think to hide when he's still shuddering in the aftermath of such sudden orgasm. -- in fact, he hasn't even really processed the fact that he's come, his brain still catching up as he slumps a little into Aak's chest, his bones threatening to turn to jelly as his strength rapidly leaves him. ]
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[His heart is thumping like a drumset as Fuuta falls back against him. His mind is racing with impulses that all crash into each other and leave him sitting dumb and hyper.]
Haha! [an incredulous, energized laugh] You squirted! You really blew your milk load, didn't you?! Did it leave a mark on the floor? I wanna measure it! You broke a record or something!
[His words come out rapidly, the beginning of each word almost tripping over the end of the last. It possible that what he says isn't even reaching the intended recipient. While he is talking and talking he does shift the way he's holding Fuuta's chest to make sure he's supported. He holds him up against his body, nuzzling up close to him, unlikely to let go unless firmly struck.]
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On his end, Fuuta barely even hears Aak's delighted yammering at first, his thoughts spinning wildly as he tries to process the fact that he just orgasmed from getting fucking milked. It's bad enough that the aftershock of climax leaves his brain running sluggish, his body heavy, but also -- oh god. His shoulders shift with a wobbly breath before Fuuta stiffly tries to crane his head away from Aak's nuzzling; some of the contents of one the cups sloshes out, dotting the bedsheet beneath them as he half-heartedly elbows Aak to try and put a little distance between them. Too bad he still can't really muster the strength to sit up, leaving him tangled up in Aak's arms even as he mumbles, ]
Shut up -- let go. [ The words come tight and wobbly; he definitely sounds a little bit like he maaaaybe might cry. ] It's not ... It's not like I meant to -- it's only 'cause you suddenly --
[ He's so mortified he wants to shrivel up and disappear, and that embarrassment translates into a choked hiccough before he abandons the cups on the bed; if one tips over, spilling its contents on the bed, that's no longer his problem. ]
-- I'm leaving. Let go.
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Huh? Why? [The reason why was pretty obvious but Aak is still riding the high of his little experiment.]
Don't you think I earned a reward for doing so good? [his lips brush against the other's neck, followed by a lengthy and affectionate roll of the tongue]
[Simply put, he's just horny as hell. He wants to get off and the guy in front of him is as good as anything else. The attention he's giving now is a lot less particular and while he wouldn't spend too much energy teasing the older boy now...]
[... Fuuta has no way of knowing that and would be stupid to believe it.]