Mayo ficlets   von Toshi
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                                    Lonely
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He embraced the Green's naked body, running his fingers over every centimetre of
his flushed skin, covering his chest, his belly, his thighs in dozens of kisses.
He held so much adoration for this boy that he thought his chest would burst
into a thousand pieces any second. It was too much, the noises, the touches, the
tiny kisses, it was all just too much, and Masaru felt his head swimming until
he heard a loud yell from the inner courtyard. What the hell.
He sleepily turned around and pressed his cushion into his face. He got woken up
in the middle of the night. And during a dream like that, of all things.
He didn't dream as much of Yosuke as he did in the beginning of his arrest, and
as weird as it was, he treated those dreams as if they'd actually met in person.
It was as pathetic as it sounds.
Worst of all, he now had a free ticket to Bonersville and was too widely awake
to fall asleep again now. He pressed his face deeper into the cushion and hoped
it would just wilt away, but the images of his dream were still too vivid in his
mind. The one time you don't want to think about your... boyfriend? Ex?
Masaru groaned and turned around to face the wall. Might as well get rid of it.
It annoyed him so much (he wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore, for crying out
loud), but he wanted to catch at least a little bit of sleep before he'd get
thrown out of bed at six in the morning.
As he closed his eyes, another image of Yosuke flashed up in his mind, and
Masaru winced. It hurt him, because he hadn't actually seen him in sixteen years
and his image of Yosuke was still the 20 year old boy that blushed at every
touch. He felt quite perverted, considering that age gap, but regarding his
raging erection he couldn't care less.
He uncerimoniously shoved a hand into his pants, the other laying on this belly,
and began to pump. The Yosuke in his mind gasped and clinged to his body, and
Masaru let out an embarassing whining noise. Mind-Yosuke kissed his neck and
Masa grabbed the sheets beside him with his free hand. He thrusted into the
other in an unsteady rhythm, the redhead on his mind the whole time, gasping,
writhing, clasping at Masaru's body. He was close and he moved his hand from the
bed sheet to his mouth to at least muffle his noises.
Yosuke kissed his lips, and he came into his hand and on his belly. He felt
disgusting. Yosuke was gone from his mind, too, and all he was left with now was
this mess and an overwhelming loneliness.
After cleaning himself up, Masa clung to his cushion, because he was sappy and a
cuddler, and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

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