badliifechoiice2 | Dress Up Meme

['Just this' how rude, Mukuro put a lot of thought and care into these outfits. Probably. At some point.

The token form of protest was only going to met with a soft chuckle as Mukuro stepped forward, letting the two hangers fall onto the bed as he helped Chikusa disrobe. First by delicately taking the hat off of his head, since it wouldn't go with the first dress and it would only hinder the bunny ears. Then again...]

They'll fit.

[Mukuro had made sure, after all.]

Which one?

[If he sounded a bit impatient and greedy, Chikusa would forgive him.]

[Well, if he said they'd fit... Then they'd fit. Chikusa didn't argue against that. He just wrinkled his nose faintly as his hat was pulled away. Despite even Mukuro's careful touch, Chikusa's hair was still a slight mess beneath it all. He got away with not bothering with brushing it much, considering the hat, and in times like this it showed.]

[For now, however, he quietly pressed limits, letting his fingers drop from the buttons he'd undone. Where Mukuro was pushing, Chikusa was purposefully taking his time and drawing things out for a little while longer...]

The first, Mukuro-sama, please.

[An answer finally given.]

[The white color in the midst of their usual filth was appealing to him, and he felt as though the innocence associated with pale shades would amuse Mukuro was well.]

[The mess of hair was endearing, one of the few tiny imperfections about Chikusa that few others knew, and Mukuro ruffled the other boy's hair in amusement. If Chikusa wanted to take it slow for now, Mukuro would allow it, though his patience could wear thin at any moment.

He handed over the first outfit without comment, one gloved hand snaking up the back of Chikusa's current shirt, watching with interest as Chikusa took his time.]

Good choice.

[It was hard to focus on the expensive fabric in his hands when there was the much more sensual feel of gloved fingers at his back. A faint tremor rattled his spine from it. Never would he say he's a particularly sexual person... but having Mukuro's attention focused solely on him for even this long feels like a reward of some sort.]

[Long clever fingers finally get to work on undoing his belt and flicking open his pants, and Chikusa asks a question that feels relevant.]

My glasses, Mukuro-sama?

[They're rough and worn things, cheap plastic that's somehow managed to survive the worst scuffles and lenses that never quite seem clean enough. Not exactly fitting for the opulent outfit that's been brought for him. Then again, if he takes them off, well, there's a lot of squinting.]

[What a poor neglected wife Chikusa was if only a few moments of attention was what he needed, but in this case, Mukuro was more than willing to supply attention. Even if he would deny it to his dying breath, Chikusa and Ken and M.M. were important to him, perhaps in a different way and depth than Chrome was. He would dote on them when he was feeling generous, or when it was necessary, in ways they were accustomed to.

The question made him hum thoughtfully as he trailed his fingers along the knobs of Chikusa's spine, resting his chin on Chikusa's shoulder as he watched him undo his belt. Normally he wasn't so touchy-feely, careful to keep a distance between himself and the rest of the world, but Chikusa was practically an extension of himself.]

You can decide.

[It didn't bother Mukuro either way, but he figured Chikusa would want to see everything being done to him.]

[Something something distances makes the experience sweeter? Something like that. If not for Ken, Chikusa's hunger for attention from Mukuro would probably be even worse, honestly. For now, however, it's just a slow appreciation for every invasion of his space.]

Thank you, Mukuro-sama.

[A soft murmur as he slides his pants past bony hips. Every bit of him bares the effects of what he's lived through: scars discoloring pale skin less from any times Mukuro has used his body for his own wishes and more from Chikusa's own reckless lack of self care, bones pressing out and easily felt. Not the most attractive body, but it's never seemed to be a problem yet. His boxers go down with the pants, leaving him bare completely for Mukuro.]

[He lays a hand on the dress, but turns his head slightly to glance at the other.]

Did you want me to have something underneath?

[His eyes may or may not be focused a bit more on Mukuro's lips in preparation for an answer.]

[There was a reason that Mukuro waited until there were only two children left after all, mostly because a pair would be more efficient and could support each other when Mukuro wasn't around. Let it not be said he didn't have some foresight.

He only hummed at the thanks, taking in that familiar body with an appreciative look, backing away so he could enjoy the whole of it. Truthfully, Mukuro liked things that were imperfect, rotting or scared or decaying. Everything that was glittering or golden or new only served to irritate him, a fake veneer that there was anything truly beautiful in this world. ~~For someone who lied and misled and used illusions at his leisure, he wasn't fond of trying to be swindled in the same manner.~~

Mukuro took a seat on the bed, hands behind him to prop him up as he watched, head canting to the side at the question, lips curling upward.]

No.

[Well, that worked out for him. Less clothing to bother with.]

[Completely bare, Chikusa set his clothes to the side and canted his head to the side as he surveyed the dress. This time, when he was slow, it wasn't to purposefully tease Mukuro. It was merely to make sure he got an idea of how to put it on in the first place. Simple things sometimes weren't always that simple, and he still wasn't entirely sure how it would stay on his chest.]

[It's a relief when he finds that the top part opens at the back, allowing room for hips to slide in from the top. Solution found, he finally gets to work actually putting the garment on instead of holding it with faint dubiousness.]

I won't be able to reach the back...

[Just. So you know.]

[Chikusa can be surprisingly erotic and a tease despite all of Mukuro's knowledge to the contrary. That slow, teasing shimmy of his hips as he slid into the dress was more out of care for the garment than to ignite his blood, that statement just a fact and not an innuendo. But, in a way, wasn't that Chikusa's charm? His straight forward cautiousness? That refreshing lack of duplicity?

At that observation, Mukuro made a small thoughtful hum, mismatched colored eyes half lidded and shimmering in interest.]

Come here.

[The command was softly spoken, but firm all the same.

To button him back up again or just spare himself the extra work and take the clothes off of him again... Decisions, decisions.]

[Mukuro's words coincide right as Chikusa pulled up the dress to his chest, one arm wrapped around it and fingers curled gently into the fabric to hold it in place. The back was still completely bared open, the opening brushing against the back of his arms and keeping the bumps of his spine exposed to the cool art. The look was deceptively delicate with that alone. Add in the wispy flow of the dress around his bare legs, and he made a sight.]

[None of that really mattered to Chiksa. What mattered was that order, the way it drew him closer without the slightest hesitation using long obedient strides. Whether Mukuro would seal the outfit in place or tear the fragile garment off, there'd be no complaint from him.]

[Almost tenderly, Mukuro drew Chikusa to him, pressing feather light kisses along the bumps of Chikusa's spine, sealing the dress up as he moved up higher. He continued long after the dress was held in place, mouth brushing against the nape of Chikusa's neck, before he withdrew, hands going back behind him to prop him up.]

Show me how it looks.

[Even with his back turned to him, Mukuro was pleased with how the dress looked so far, and how it fit. Like polishing a jewel, every new outfit he had his subordinates try on brought to light a new trait that Mukuro had previously forgotten or could appreciate. What would this dress reveal to him?]

[Every soft touch of his lips, the delicate brush against skin stretched so thinly over bone, faint pulls of flesh when his master pulled away to cherish another spot... Chikusa was not the sort to fall apart vocally just at the first few seconds of foreplay. Instead, in place of gasps or whimpers, there were the soft tremors in his body.]

[Fingers, twitching at every kiss, curling into the fabric draped around his hips. His own lips, trembling as if the weight of words was on the very tip of them. Minute but so noticeable to one close enough, the muscles of his back quivered. In whole, a body that eagerly awaited whatever touch came next.]

[What a disappointment for that withdrawal to happen, but following Mukuro-sama's orders always lead to rewards in the end. Dropping his arm from around his chest, Chikusa stepped forward and turned around, fabric swishing around his legs. Just as he'd been told from the start, everything fit perfectly. The way the outfit glittered with every catch of faint light drew out the darker scars on his body. It's a contrast that fits the dark of his hair well too.]

[Given his quiet stillness, Chikusa could be a doll on display for all his emotion, save for the waiting stare directed at Mukuro.]

[There was a sense of satisfaction at even the smallest signs of dishevelment made Mukuro's lips curve upwards, somewhere between cruel and foreboding. He would get sounds out of Chikusa soon enough, but there was no point in getting those noises out of him so soon. He liked taking his time in breaking Chikusa down, to the point where that mask of apathy shattered into a thousand pieces, where his body couldn't handle the amount of pleasure it was being given, to where his voice was loud and continuous.

But Mukuro was patient, and normally the anticipation was just as erotic as the act itself.

He watched with appreciation as Chikusa turned around, eyes sharpening as he caught sight of those scars, at how the dress flowed around his legs. He let out a small hum of appreciation, eyes dragging back to Chikusa's face. He held out a hand, gesturing for Chikusa to move closer.]

[Deceivingly gentle or delightfully cruel, Chikusa stepped forward regardless. He'd long ago accepted the varieties Mukuro's touch could come in. So long as it came at all, he wouldn't complain. His only concern at the moment seemed to be fisting his hands into the dress, making sure his bare feet didn't catch on anything by mistake.]

[He let them flow back into place once he was close enough, brushing against Mukuro's own legs as he came to a stop.]

What do you want me to do, Mukuro-sama?

[How well trained and well kept Chikusa was. It was one of the many traits that pleased Mukuro about him, along with his constant struggle to remain aloof and apathetic to everything. Since Chikusa had decided to keep on his glasses and because the dress was delicate, Mukuro's touch was going to be delicate for now, hands running along the side of Chikusa's thighs, up along those hips, resting on them delicately.

The question made him chuckle, half fond and half cruel. So obedient, his Chikusa.]

Kiss me.

[It would be easy to entangle his hand in Chikusa's hair and drag him down, but there was no fun in that.]

[Such care meant he could savor this moment, enjoy all this attention for himself with no worry about being left cold in the wind. His eyelids dipped faintly when those hands left his bare thighs despite himself, because he couldn't help himself.]

[Worse laughs have come out of Mukuro's mouth. What was of more interest to Chikusa in that moment was all the other things he could do with that mouth, especially with the order just given.]

[No answer, not when he has already been told what to do, and Chikusa slid his hands onto Mukuro's shoulders. One dared to go even further, curling along the back of his neck, just the faintest hint of passion and possession. So different from the actual kiss when he bent down to press his lips hungrily against his, not bothering to hide the desires his actions showed so clearly. He didn't bite, like Ken was prone to do, but there was an undeniable force in the slide of his lips and the way he sucked along the soft flesh he could get.]

[My, my, Mukuro would have to make a note to give Chikusa a bit more attention if he was so hungry for it. The kiss muffled his laughter for a moment before he rose up to meet that hungry kiss, opening his mouth for Chikusa to plunder.

He dragged Chikusa forward by the hips so he might nestle himself on his lap, exhaling with a small pleased noise.]

[If it had been any other order, he could have been as restrained as usual. Yet, out of every part of him, Mukuro's lips were what always drew his attention the most. The way they curled into devious smirks, how they carried lazy smugness so well, even the twitches that foretold his lack of calm when something annoyed him.]

[So, of course when he was given the opportunity, he would enjoy everything he could.]

[Obviously this means making sure Mukuro-sama is pleased as well. With the other's mouth open to him, he strokes along his tongue and drags his nails along the base of his skull. Hardly any effort is needed at all to get him on Mukuro's lap, not when he realizes what's being asked of him. His long legs straddle either side of Mukuro, keeping him there nice and securely. A slight shudder edges through him as he brushes against the pants beneath him, bare himself underneath his dress.]

[What a weakness to have, considering Mukuro's mouth might be one of the most dangerous weapons he had on him. Of course Mukuro was vain enough to argue that all of him elicit such a reaction, but he supposed Chikusa's unflagging loyalty was enough to earn him some leniency.

Mukuro gave a small hum of satisfaction at the feel of Chikusa's nails along his skull. He would be loathe to admit it, but he enjoyed having hands or nails run along his scalp, to have people toy with his hair, especially since there were so few people he trusted to be that close.

He went slow for now, enjoying the sensation of Chikusa kissing him so heatedly, slanting his face so he could kiss him more deeply, his hands running leisurely up and down Chikusa's legs.]

[What a treasured spot it is, to be considered so trustworthy to touch Mukuro like this. After all, anyone would come with him to bed if he asked. Chikusa doesn't doubt this. He's not naive to the kind of things Mukuro can do and does in his pursuit to drown the mafia in its own blood. He's not oblivious, either, to how attractive the other can be despite all the warning signs for normal people.]

[He could have anyone, if he liked.]

[But he only allows a select few so close, Chikusa among them.]

[So he's not shy about taking advantage of this, working in the rhythm of his kisses and his fingers together bit by bit. If he can aid Mukuro in this way, too, then he'd be more than content.]

[Despite accusations that Mukuro was a hedonist, he was far more pragmatic than that. While he didn't mind bedding someone to further his goals or plans, there were other far more effective ways to get information. Even in other peoples' bodies, he would rather extort or spy in order to get what he wanted. And when it came to his own body, well. There were few he trusted enough to touch him.

Mukuro hummed approvingly into Chikusa mouth as he started setting a steady pace, though while his fingers felt good in his hair, he wasn't one to let anyone else take the lead for long.

He shifted so he could press Chikusa down against the bed, gloved hands running along the back of Chikusa's knees and thighs, breaking the kiss for a moment to look down at Chikusa with lowered lashes, expression triumphant.]

You wear it well.

[Which was as much a compliment to Chikusa as it was himself.]

[The realization that he's being moved has Chikusa shift as well, trying to make it easier for the change in position. Against the bed, his dark hair splays out even messier than before. A little uncertainly, his fingers drift down to Mukuro's shoulders. He hasn't wanted them off yet, but... just in case.]

[Licking his already wet and shining lips, Chikusa spreads his legs at the feel of cool leather.]

Thank you, Mukuro-sama.

[His normally quiet voice is faintly hoarse from how much he'd tried to give the other in that kiss. A bob of his throat as he tries to dispel it.]

[The hoarseness of Chikusa's voice was a good start, but Mukuro was interested in the sort that came from gasping and moaning and writhing. At the touch of Chikusa's fingers against his shoulders, Mukuro lowered himself so that he could press an almost affectionate kiss against Chikusa's left knee, slowly working his way up.]

How does it feel?

[He played idly with the material of the dress, rolling it up slowly to expose more and more of Chikusa's skin to him.]

[With Mukuro farther away from him, Chikusa guides his hands down to the sheets where they stay loosely curled. He has no doubt that by the end of this, they'll have fisted in the already fragile fabric and wet with his sweat. It's a repulsive idea now.]

[By the time Mukuro is done with him, he knows he won't be in the state of mind to be bothered.]

[The sensation of smooth fabric gliding along his legs makes him shiver.]

Good.

[A simple but truthful answer as he shifts his head to watch where Mukuro's mouth roams, muscles twitching as more of his skin is revealed.]

Mmm.

[Mukuro made a pleased noise at that admission, gloves warming against Chikusa's flesh as he kept dragging the dress steadily higher. Once he new that Chikusa was watching, he made sure to put on a show for him. He sucked and bit marks and bruises into Chikusa's flesh, lapping his tongue along the sensitive flesh. Like flowers blooming along a vine, he moved up slowly and gently, mismatched eyes shimmering as he met Chikusa's gaze, his smirk pressed against his inner thigh.]

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