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bakerstreet2018-05-10 11:01 am
weekly) wrote in bakerstreet2018-05-10 11:01 am
Entry tags:
the hypnosis meme
• comment with your character's name, canon, and any preferences you might have.
• write a starter for your character, or leave the first comment blank.
• tag other people's comments.
• pick your prompt(s) with the RNG.
• play and have fun!
• WARNING! several of the prompts leave room for triggering and/or explicit content. proceed with caution when reading, and (if possible) add any content or rating warnings in the subject line of your thread(s). thank you!
how?
why?
what?
01 induction. a comfortable place, a confident touch, and all the right words to take you under. deep breath in, deep breath out, just lie back for the plain flavor, no gimmicks or special powers involved.
02 the prop box. that's not enough? then how about a spinning spiral, or a swinging pocket watch, a coin or a candle, a flickering candle, that's right, just look at the flame, watch the flame closely, watch it dance in front of your eyes and relax, just relax...
03 simply powerful. deep and hypnotic eyes, a strong and commanding voice, their comforting and soothing touch; that person has more than talent - they have the power to bring you completely under their control, and there is no way to resist... at least not forever.
04 magic! a spell to control your body, a potion to command your mind, an artifact to destroy your will. you might have been enchanted, or even cursed. maybe it was an accident, a lesson gone wrong. whatever it was, it's time for a magical trance!
05 science! death rays are so last season, hypno rays are all the rage these days! and did you hear about that new drug that makes you 89% more suggestible to everything you're told? apparently they can even insert a chip into your brain and-- you know, why don't you see the miracle of science for yourself?
06 other. combine, change, roll again, or try something else entirely.
why?
01 therapy something you want to remember? something you'd like to forget? quit smoking, eat healthier, be the best you you can be. whatever your reason, whatever your method, your subconsciousness needs a spring cleaning to improve your life.
02 in good fun you're really looking forward to this! it's a show, it's a party, or maybe it's just the two of you trying something new. entertaining, relaxing, maybe even hot and steamy. kick back, and enjoy the experience.
03 part of the job the latest corporate drug, another monster preying on people's minds, the third alien artifact you dug up this week. you've run into this before, and you will run into it again. but maybe this time is different. maybe this time something went wrong...
04 part of a scheme you don't want this, but somebody else begs to differ. maybe it's as harmless as a prank to make you cluck like a chicken whenever they say your name. or maybe it's as bad as a plot to make you their obedient servant forever. only they know, but for better or worse, you're about to find out.
05 an accident a vacant stare into that magical mirror, blank faces after a gas leak, sparks flying in the wrong direction and suddenly you find yourself chanting 'yes, master' over and over again? looks like somebody was too careless. sure, nobody meant for this to happen, but it did, and now you have to deal with the side-effects.
06 other. combine, change, roll again, or try something else entirely.
what?
01 relaxation. all you want is to unwind, switch off, forget about your stress and worries for a while. close your eyes, you'll wake up feeling so refreshed. that is, unless somebody goes a little overboard with that happy and vacant smile...
02 transformation. bark like a dog. moo like a cow. put on this apron, you are the maid now. you're a robot, you're just a doll, you are the president of the world, an adorable baby, the perfect boyfriend- you are something or somebody you weren't before.
03 personality change. people don't change? we'll see about that! there must be some way to make you more assertive, less anxious, more honest, less unruly. maybe something could even change your evil ways! or your good ones, for that matter...
04 submission. this one is all about following commands. any commands. any commands. but do they just want to see you dance to their tune once, or will they wash, scrub and bleach your brain until it comes out blank and obedient forever?
05 seduction. maybe it's something sneaky to charm somebody you just met, maybe it's something sexy to spice up your relationship. whatever it is, whatever you do, it's trance time in the bedroom. and it would feel so amazing to take off your clothes for me, wouldn't it?
06 other. combine, change, roll again, or try something else entirely.
Phone tag. Forgive any mistakes I may have missed!
[ Resentment isn't his thing, but Ryuji is a wee bit annoyed at how many people lump him in with real punks like Keita. That's not his motivation behind... this, he swears, and had nothing to do with him researching meditation and hypnosis techniques.
What he came up with isn't exactly elegant, but he got some inside information from that big guy in the hat and the dweeb in the scarf, so he suspects what he's got planned will work on one of the school's real thugs.
All he has to do is put this dumbass megaphone he cobbled together out of metal and wires and... a megaphone. And some other stuff. Then he can tell Keita to tell everyone that Ryuji and him aren't buds. They just walk the same road home and hang out near each other on the roof at lunch and live in the same building. It's all coincidence.
So Ryuji takes out the microphone straight off the bat, and gets started. ]
Shut the door, and forget how to leave. Actually, leavin' doesn't even occur to you anymore.
looks good!
There are only so many places social recluses like themselves can kill time, and only so many times a pair of delinquents can be seen together in public before the rumours start flying. It's understandable that the ignorant masses might lump them together, the washed-up punk and the actual punk. Would be understandable, were Keita the type to give a flying fuck for understanding where he can fall back on his fists.
Frankly he's offended. Even more so by whatever colourful piece of crap his supposed senior just pulled out of his ass. ]
... Not even gonna ask. Nice toy, dumbass.
[ Keita's reaction to a megaphone being blasted in his face is, predictably, far from positive. About what you'd expect, really; a pointed-blank stare and an implication of really? on the tip of his tongue. Yup, nothing strange that he doesn't mind being spoken to - ordered - by Ryuji like that, slamming the door shut behind him bar a word of complaint. ]
Like I said. [ What he now thinks he said. Now the actual details of it can longer occur in his mind. ] Get to the point already, or I will crush you.
no subject
[ Whatever Ryuji did to the poor toy microphone last night has left the volume toned down, albeit still loud enough to be a nusiance in a sealed-off classroom, while the frequency is oddly penetrating. It looks plenty dumb though, and being called a dumbass for waving it around brings out a lovely colour in his cheeks. ]
Don't crush me!
[ Ryuji isn't weak, far from it, but he knows Keita could knock seven shades out of him without breaking a sweat. Best nip that in the butt. Er, bud. ]
Actually, if you hit me, you'll -- you'll wet your pants, so just don't try it!
[ Wait. While he's got the microphone to his lips... ]
And you're gonna think this microphone is super cool.
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[ There is something strangely persuasive in that mic, when it hits Keita halfway through what should've been an aggressive step forward into Ryuji's personal space. It's less that he even hears the words and more that they simply are, not even worth the effort of pondering too hard. Right, better not get too aggressive with Sakamoto. Else things'll get messy, and not in the fun way.
Then again, there's the issue of how and why Ryuji can know trying to hit him will land Keita with a pair of stained/ruined shorts. Thankfully, the human brain has an alarming tendency to dismiss that which it cannot understand, even before enhanced microphones enter the fray, and any curiosity as to that disappears down the same drain as Keita's usual interest in violence. Thus he opts for the simpler route of forgetting what he just heard, just as he accepts his sudden loss of interest in crushing Ryuji ever again.
Did he even want to in the first place? He feels there's something more important, like... Like...
Like that awesome microphone! Man, where'd Sakamoto even get something so cool? The sticking-out wires, the kiddy colour scheme, the fact it looks like it's held together with copious quantities of duct tape... It all stirs up something in Keita's juvenile mind, and as anyone who's spent anytime whatsoever in his presence will know, Keita is not a subtle young man, now eying the mic with what can clearly be seen as an obvious interest. ]
Y... Yeah, it's dumb as hell. It's so dumb I can't even be assed to crush you anymore.
no subject
[ Does this hunk of junk actually work? No doubt the tip about Keita being weak to self-induced hypnosis was true. The dork in the yellow scarf spilled enough info about it to make that obvious. Still, seeing someone as stubborn as Keita yield without realising his mind is being played with is amazing. Ryuji is so excited by his unexpected success - this was a long shot, he'll admit - that he lets that half-threat about crushing him slide. There's way more important matters to deal with, after all. ]
Hang on. Gotta make sure this thing works for real.
[ Forget relaxing breathing, imagining a relaxing stream or going to his happy place. All that BS is way too mundane for a guy like Keita. Stubborn as he is, the guy doesn't seem build to resist the more mundane kind of hypnosis. Ryuji decides it's best to try out something more... outlandish. ]
Take a seat, man. There's one right behind you. It'll hold your weight just fine. We've got a lot to talk about.
[ The "seat" in question doesn't exist. But if Keita manages to sit down on something that isn't there, it'll mean Ryuji has a whole different afternoon planned than he first thought. Just a taste of hypno-success is enough to scratch that "tell people we ain't friends, man" plan right off his to-do list. Then the crushing threat pops back into his mind, and he brings his Totally Badass Toy up to his mouth again. ]
Oh, and also the seat is a cactus. You're plantin' your ass on a cactus.
no subject
So it is all doubt's dispelled as to whether or not the mic actually works. Not that Keita ever held such doubts; he lacks the capacity, for surely nothing could be wrong with so awesome a device, yet Ryuji's asked he hang on, and so hang on he shall. Gotta make sure it works for real. He understands.
It's a given of course that no seat exists behind him, but this alone cannot keep Keita's subconscious from playing along, powerless to resist the reality Ryuji's jammed between gears. One might compare it to one of those old-fashioned trust exercises, the way Keita simply slips back into a perfectly-placed chair — and somehow, he holds. Though before Ryuji starts celebrating what power over physics his little microphone holds, he might take note of Keita's calves, and how they strain at maintaining that pose. Not that Keita knows it, of course. All he's aware of is the fact he's planting his ass on a chair.
Or rather, a cactus. ]
Son of a—!
[ Good thing for Keita: No-one said anything about him having to stay in the cha-- cactus, so no force bars him from leaping to his feet, hands grabbing his poor prickled hiney, and casting a withering glance back at the totally-there spiny plant behind him. Good thing for Ryuji: When Keita immediately steps forward and grabs Ryuji's collar, he stops at glaring and forming a fist. Threats are fine, but no further. Pissing himself at the very prospect of harming one hair on Ryuji's pretty head is simply who he is now. Don't crush me! carved in immutable stone. ]
The hell, Sakamoto? Is this why you called me here? To prank me? You want me to crush you that bad, huh!
no subject
[ Ryuji is an emotional guy. Despite the whole Vulgar Boy reputation and the slumped-shoulders sullen expression act, his face pretty much always telegraphs exactly what emotions he feels at any given moment. Take the giddy delight and genuine amusement when Keita sits on an imaginary chair-cactus combo. Gone are the hopes of pretending he doesn't find this funny - an act that would've served him well if Keita wasn't prevented from knocking seven proverbial shades out of his goofy grinning mug - but whatever. If Keita takes the scoff of laughter Ryuji lets out as an insult, that's his problem. Finally a problem he can't solve with his fists. ]
Settle down, Captain Cactus.
[ Taking advantage of Keita's inability to hurt him, Ryuji frees himself from Keita's grip... not in a dignified way, really, more like he squirms free. ]
I called you here so we can, you know, make friends. For real. Since all the rumours flyin' around say we're already thick as thieves.
[ God. Why does he stress that last word, and why does he smile nice and wide at the same time? Keita probably doesn't give a single solitary fuck about the Phantom Thieves. Who knows if he even cares about the rumours involving him at all? What's more important here, and unbeknown to Keita, is how quick Ryuji's goals have shifted now that fun has presented itself. With the microphone at his lips, he moves things along. ]
Stand on the spot, 'kay? I'm gonna floss the rude thoughts about me right outta your head usin' this kick-ass... Mental Floss!
[ What he holds up is... nothing. That's how he sees it, anyways, while Keita will see him holding a rather strange length of string. Almost like a thick pristine white shoelace or a pipe cleaner. Finding himself under the spell of a complete dumbass is not going to end well for Keita, sadly. ]
Wait wait wait. Lemme do that again. Only this time, when I say kick-ass, you're gonna gimmie a drum roll by slapping your ass a buncha times. Ready?
[ No choice. He's ready. Ryuji throws in an extra pinch of showmanship here, because he's decided to have plenty of fun. ]
I'm gonna floss the rude thoughts about me right outta your head usin' this kick-ass -- [ Pause for drum roll. An extended pause, of course. ] -- Mental Floss!
no subject
Quite a few sights come to mind, actually, none of them here to earn his ire quite how Ryuji always seems able to do, with a face that might be easier on the eyes rearranged - were the threat of garments despoiled ever hanging over his head. It's with a heavy heart and no small measure of what might be called resting bitch face that Keita relents, lets the other boy step away and, casual as can be, feels his legs suddenly root to the spot. He's gotta stand here, so he will.
And just in case Ryuji doubted for even a second that control over Keita's perception was now his: ]
Oh wow, you brought string. Aren't you a little old for Show and Tell?
[ Alas, Japan's finest boxer of the tsundere class is still not impressed, comes with not having the same implanted awe he now has for the mic. Keita will thank Ryuji for yet another reminder of why the entire senpai-kouhai dynamic on which high school is founded is such utter bullshit; any system that requires he look up to Sakamoto on the basis of a single year's (and however many inches) difference is not for people like him. Better to focus on the things that actually matter. ]
And unlike weaklings like you? I don't need friends. So once I'm done slapping my ass, you can buzz off before I really do crush you.
[ And so it is that, not a thought spared to the content of the words - and why would there be, really, with that mic to distract him from foreign thoughts permeating thick through his skull? - Ryuji maybe has enough time to blink before he's treated to the sight of shorts hitting the floor. Now sure, that teeny tiny bit of floss might be lame (not that Ryuji's ever needed much help in that field), but that's no reason not to give it a little fanfare. Easy as breathing he wants to give himself and his poor widdle botty a spanking, can't not thinks the words that are now part of his head, right and not wrong.
Another sight Ryuji's treated to: Picture an irritable brat dragged out for school Monday morning when he'd rather be snoozing, and you have a good impression of what Keita looks like as a hand swings deftly back and delivers a smack loud enough to resound through the room. Gotta make sure Sakamoto hears his drum roll, right? And just like any half-decent drum roll, his hardly stops at one note. Another slap, another pat, another definite wince across Keita's features before his body starts tensing up, before his legs start to tremble, and through it all he regards the other boy with the same uncaring expression.
Someone's in need of one hell of a flossing. ]
no subject
I told you it ain't string. [ Here, he holds the non-existent string up again. ] It's -- Mental Floss!
[ Whatever. Keita isn't impressed. Crabby guys like him are immune to the kind of shit cool guys like Ryuji finds amazing. Not that Ryuji plans to stop with the flashy showmanship. For now, he knocks it off, but only to scoot around behind Keita. Then he's right back to it, dangling the Mental Floss in front of Keita's face. ]
Smells nice, huh? Like bubble gum! It's gonna make you nice and sweet and bubbly.
[ Ryuji makes a popping sound, sticking a finger in his mouth and then popping it out. It's to disguise the way he soaks his finger in spit. Obviously the next step of making friends is to treat Keita to a wet willy, and that's why Ryuji sticks his slicked up finger in Keita's ear and twists it around. Just long enough to create the illusion of the floss being slid inside. ]
It's in your empty head now, Keita. And I'm gonna use it to scrub your mind clean!
[ Technically he doesn't need to act out the whole flossing process. Using the microphone to order Keita to "believe everythin' I say 'til the string's gone, and forget this part" is enough to pull off this trick. And since Ryuji is a showy idiot, he mimes the flossing action for his own entertainment. ]
Every time I pull this floss through your mind, a shiver of pleasure runs down your tiny wee body. From your messy hair to your cute little toes, every single nerve tingles...
[ Just for effect, Ryuji blows on the back of Keita's neck. ]
Feels good, don't it?
no subject
Don't play with that kid, don't talk to that kid, mum and dad told me that kid's got no future. That kid. Also don't fuck with that kid, shame it seems Ryuji missed the memo somewhere. Every young man has his limit, after all, and just as Keita knows it's vital he provide the other boy with his derriere drumroll, just as he knows that little gadget is the most amazing thing he's ever seen - just as he knows there should be a cactus occupying the space where Ryuji now stands, and what's up with that really - Keita knows there's only so much he can take before he socks him like that, control of his bladder be damned. ]
Seriously, Sakamoto. Do you hear half the crap you come out with?
[ All this talk of friendship and junk is starting to tire. More it was already tedious, Ryuji's inscrutable smile a stain on an otherwise simple day. And inscrutable is not a word he'd ever expected to be applying to Ryuji of all people. What's up with that, anyway? If Keita didn't know better, he'd swear he was up to something - but no way is he that smart.
That he's just been given a wet willy passes by mercifully without comment. ]
My head's not empty, jackass. And if you think some piece of string's gonnah--
[ Now, if Ryuji had his heart set on seeing an array of unseemly and distinctly un-Keita expressions, then boy is he in for a treat. Or he would be, were he not back there, where he can't make out the full gamut of expressions Keita manages to run through in the span of a second. Like a cornucopia of things that simply should not be. How he can't see the faces Keita makes when, just as described, a surge of a sensation he can only try describing as good shit suddenly slams through his being.
Slithering its way down Keita's spine to every fiber of him, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes to the delightfully-red pair of dimples on a rear that's been oh-so-righteously abused, an ass he can't help pushing back against Ryuji as his back arches and Keita for the first time in a long time fucking shudders. ]
The fuck...?
no subject
Woah, did it work? Your neck is totally covered in goosebumps! That's awesome! Shame you can't cum from it, no matter how good it feels.
[ Ryuji swears he saw the shiver roll down Keita's body. That's all the convincing he needs to push things further and further. He slides the imaginary floss back and forth, whistling a merry little tune while he works. Cleaning out a little brat's brain is bound to take a while, and that means Ryuji gets to make Keita wriggle and writhe on the spot for a while longer. All while he walks Keita down the path to clean thinking. ]
You're forgettin' all those nasty curse words, Keita. Every naughty word you know is slowly bein' cleaned outta your head.
[ Fuck, shit, bitch. All those words. They lose a letter at a time, starting at the end, and the plague of amnesia creeps backwards until only the first letters and their meanings remain. Keita has to know the meanings, of course, because: ]
You're not over your potty mouth. But every time you wanna swear, you're gonna swap out a dirty word for a family-friendly alternative. You know the words you're allowed to use ain't real curses, but you just can't remember those bad, bad words. Know why? Because you're such a silly little boy.
[ Resting his chin on Keita's shoulder, Ryuji whispers into his ear. ]
And Silly Boys don't need to swear. Even if they use too many kid-friendly curses, they'll hiccup a cloud of bubbles and taste nice strong soap.
[ Just to test... ]
Give it a try. Tell me to go eff myself.
no subject
What is surprising, though? Something in the way Ryuji doesn't so much as balk at his Very Best glare incites a sense of fear to creep down his skin. It's a foreign, almost forgotten emotion, one he'd learned to leave behind in the toybox where such things belonged long ago; here with Ryuji it feels like an unwanted companion, and how fitting is that. There's maybe the briefest chance to finally catch his breath and convince his body to stop fucking shivering thank you very much, you damn weakling ]
Ah! There's no way... That's bu... Uh... Bull?
[ That's. Weird. Where was he going with that again? He knows what it was, but — Keita can't focus when subjected to more pleasure than he's ever known how to handle. Each little tug of that floss back and forth sends another set of shivers down his skin and straight to a
cocdic willy standing strong that he prays Ryuji can't see, cheeks blushed a furious red to offset a mind turning white from what feels like someone rubbing bleach in his soul. ]I'm not a Silly Boy, you stupid meanie jerk!!
[ Except he is, and he knows it, because disagreeing with Ryuji doesn't even feel like an option. He's a Silly Boy with a hard silly willy, who shudders all silly and meek when a boy like Sakamoto's breath tickles his oh so sensitive skin. How silly he was to think he was ever anything more. ]
Crud, that feels so effing good-- Hic!
no subject
Bahaha! You sound like such a little dork!
[ And Ryuji sounds delighted with the results, laughing right against Keita's skin. ]
Oh man, I can't believe people're actually afraid of you.
[ Most of all he can't believe there was a period of his life where he was afraid of Keita.
It's kind of embarrassing that he ever flinched away from a guy he's known pretty much his whole life. You know all those embarrassing early childhood memories shared between guys who're not quite friends anymore? Ryuji shares a ton of those with Keita. Seeing each other's bare butt at the pool, Keita knowing Ryuji wet the bed until he was nine, those awkward experimental penalty games to spice up video games at a few sleepovers. That sorta stuff.
An idea occurs to Ryuji then, and his finger finds the megaphone button. ]
Why don't you go ahead and forget all the embarrassing stuff you know about me? Actually, you're gonna come up with a whole buncha cool new memories. Back when we were growin' up, I was the coolest guy you knew...
[ Hmm. This sounds like a good chance to test some of the megaphone's abilities. Can it conjure up new thought and memories without too much of Ryuji's input? ]
Like, remember the first time you spent the night at my place? We played games all night, with some pretty embarrassing penalties for the loser. You remember what happened, right? Tell me about it and maybe you'll be able to shoot your load.
[ Maybe. ]
no subject
Thankfully his movements aren't forbidden the point he's completely without options; leaving the room may not be an option, but silly boy Keita still remembers escape can come in the form of his fingers. ]
Hic! Eff that! Even when we were kids, I always thought you... were... ah—
[ Keita goes still at that, hand wrapped round his cock and eyes blown wide open, an expression of horror. Almost as if a significant portion of his childhood's being changed. Emphasis on the significant; even before Keita fell down the path of delinquency, it was kind of a given Ryuji wasn't going to be one of the cool kids on the playground. Cool kids don't let their pants drop all the time in locker rooms, or scream at slasher film movie nights, or constantly need Keita to save them when they aren't even friends. Even the first time they played together as kids had
Ryuji falling off a climbing frameKEITA BEING THE ONE WHO FELL AND NEEDED RYUJI TO OFFER HIM A HAND TO HELP HIM STOP CRYING. ]I always thought you were so cool. I even looked up to you! That's why it pees me off that you're so lame now!
[ There's a touch of genuine disappointment there, even. That Ryuji grew up into someone so very undeserving of that obscenely-awesome megaphone.
And while they're at it, a mind already so horny as Keita's is inclined towards certain options to draw inspiration from when he's told to conjure up memories of "embarrassing penalties." Memories he's thankful aren't making him harder, right as another tug of Mental Floss earns a whine. ]
You were such a jerk. You kicked my bottom at racing, so I had to be your Naked Butler for the night. I wore my boxers on my head, let you spank me when I didn't do what you said and... I massaged your feet? Wait, no way did I...
no subject
This deserves a closer look. Ryuji's finger presses the button on the megaphone so he can add in another idiotic sidenote to Keita's past. If he's going to use real examples they both remember, then Ryuji is at least going to get a laugh out of it. The mental floss' tingling sensations stop for a moment or so, long enough for Ryuji to scramble more of Baby Face's brain before he goes back to cleaning out the empty space between Fuyuhiko's ears. ]
Don't you remember what else happened? I'm pretty sure you had to go to school with those boxers on your head for the next week. Oh, and you didn't just massage my feet. My glutes got some loving too. Right? Then you bought my briefs off me for -- oh, oh! You didn't buy them but you made a pretty good trade.
[ Back to flossing. A squeaky-clean sound begins to ring through Fuyuhiko's ears. That dirty mind of his is all clean and every additional draw of the floss through his head rewards him with a full-body twitch of pleasure. Hell, he might even be shooting out little jets of pre-cum between flosses. ]
Since I let you take my undies, you were happy to take up Loves Ryuji's Dirty Briefs on His Face as your delinquent title. Did you ever change that back?
no subject
It's impressive, in a way; Ryuji's got a guy who's never once cared for the keeping up of appearances feeling goddamn unseemly. Now if only the guy could work on his storytelling a little; what's the point of just going off about things they both already know? ]
Don't make it sound weird! We were kids, and anyway, you always liked my bum massages. Way I remember it, putting a good rub for your glutes on the table was the only way to make you play seriously.
[ There's no resistance now, blockade blasted through. He recalls crystal-clear the feeling of another boy's ass in his hands, how Ryuji would brag about beating him down once again while Keita would take it, lightly kneading each cheek, to the victor the spoils. Hell, Keita's pretty sure he could still get guys melting in his hands at how well he can handle a butt, doesn't help at all with the patches of damp starting to leak through his shorts, how his tone has in the past few minutes started falling short of the kickass half-pint he aims for and become more what most would call needy bottom. ]
Of course I changed it back! Back when you were cool, everyone thought it meant we were hanging together. How the heck could I call myself that now? It sucked enough when all the guys saw what a Silly Boy I am, sniffing your undies in Maths!
no subject
I'm still cool, you little butt sniffer!
[ Those sorts of insults to his reputation aren't allowed, not from a guy who knows most of Ryuji's most embarrassing childhood moments! Getting lost in a supermarket and crying for his mummy. Being brought up on stage as a volunteer during a hero show and crying for his mummy. Leaving his Pikachu hat on a train and crying for his mummy. If someone who was there for all those memories and more thinks Ryuji is less cool now that he's older then it spells serious trouble for his reputation. ]
When I twist your ear like this -- [ Twist, twist. ] -- you go into Ryuji Fanbrat Mode.
[ Ryuji gives Keita's ear another tug for good measure. ]
You think everythin' about me is so effin' cool. My hair, my style, my muscles, my choice to get into runnin' instead of something physical like boxin'...
[ His other hand strokes Keita's hair absently. Just for something to do. Not meaning anything weird by it at all. Actually no, he's testing what Keita will let him get away with while he's semi-zonked. His fingers trail down Keita's cheek and one hooks into his mouth, pulling his cheek out and forcing him to make a dumb expression. ]
You wanna --
[ He hesitates. What he considers saying - what he's going to say, honestly, because his impulse control was piss poor before the megaphone messed with his head - is pretty freaking gay. But it really gets his point across. Really makes it crystal clear how much Keita is supposed to revere his ol' buddy. Grinding his hard cock against Keita's small round bum, Ryuji continues speaking with a forced casual tone. ]
-- you wanna fuck me. That's how cool I am when you're in Fanbrat Mode, yeah?
[ God forgive him for saying the f-word. He clears his throat and hurries the conversation back to where it was before, all natural-like. ]
S-so you'd be happy to let people know you love breathin' through my undies!
no subject
[ Resistance is a word with no meaning to Keita by now, an empty space in his lexus where it once might have been, a notion slipped smoke-like through fingers that don't think to grasp it. Being a boy flossed free of such things means not a hint of reluctance to all but indulge what whispers wilt at his ear, Ryuji allowed the right to toy touch and fondle to his wuss heart's content. A sudden gasp, perhaps a faint hint of red; to squeeze even these small signs from Keita ought be unthinkable, yet show them he does, when not thinking's a given.
To which Ryuji sees fit to add another hour in the wash for his undies, and to sweeten the deal throws in a wave of half-truths and hypnotic suggestions to beat him back down. Half-truths on the level of, say, how once behind Keita sat a cactus, where once was the floor, where now stands Ryuji. His childhood friend, his forgotten friend, the one who can take his heart, his will, and his ear, and twist. ]
What are yo...u...
[ There is something like the turning of a valve in that, the flick of a switch, or more appropriately mayhaps in what Ryuji's done down below, fiddling with knobs. One second Keita is himself, in so much as he knows himself to be (which is to say not himself at all, thank perspective for that), the next he is not, very much something stranger, a sensation he can name but can't know. He is a Fanbrat, of Ryuji to be precise, and to Ryuji goes the troubling task of telling him what exactly that means.
Sitting still - like a good boy - for starters. Thrashing's no stranger by now, so stranger still that he's still. Unmoving, with a mouth as wide and open as his ears, ready for receiving. For how does one respond to their whole opinion of a person upending like this. Plus their whole opinion of themselves in the process; Ryuji has gone from scribbling in margins to replacing a page, and Keita for one doesn't know how to take it.
But take it he does. ]
Ss-- Stop it, don't-
[ Don't... what? What is there he wouldn't want Ryuji to do? Not pull away, perhaps, given the great session his needy little butt's getting on that manly meat stick-- But there's no way he can just say something like that! Not to his idol, his god, his friend and not at all secret crush of so many years! Ryuji doesn't need whips and chains and words laced honey-thick to keep him there when Keita wants, wants more than anything to be by his side, to know his undeserving booty's been found worthy to grind on. ]
Ah. Of course I would, Sakamoto-san!! That's just common sense. Huffing your butt scent is how I became a boxer. It's full of your cool pheromones!