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spell my name with her tongue

Summary:

He wiped his hand clean, disgusted, and started looking online. Apparently, according to the plethora of both sketchy and seemingly trustworthy articles, a way to make your cum taste better—or at least less bitter—was to consume pineapple, whether as a juice or just the flesh itself. And honestly, it seemed a little easy. Too easy in fact, but where was the harm? Really, in the worst-case scenario, all Hanma did was just increase his pineapple intake and make his mouth slightly more sore. It wasn’t like there was a big sacrifice he had to make. So he did it.

Hanma tries an age-old trick to get his cum to taste better. Of course, you always need a third-party to verify your findings.

Notes:

title is from “slumber party” by ashnikko
set during future evil toman executive era
i will not admit where i actually got this idea from

Work Text:

Hanma groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed, cum shooting into and slightly over his hand. He panted, lifting his head up again and turning his hand over to stare at the thick, viscous liquid. He brought his hand slowly up to his mouth and licked some of the cum off, closing his eyes as he savored the taste.

Hanma hummed, eyebrows furrowing. It was still a little bitter—the same amount of saltiness—but he really didn’t notice much of a difference. That was disappointing. He didn’t want his cum to taste bitter—it was such an off-putting, throw-up inducing taste—he wanted it to at least have a more mild flavor. Especially if he wanted to have more people choking on his cock.

He only noticed because he tasted himself once out of curiosity. He had always wondered what cum tasted like, as he never had much opportunity to do so. Not like it was something he really wanted to do before. Everyone he had gotten with sexually really liked sucking dick and swallowing when he came in their mouths, and it was always incredibly hot to see. Curiosity got the better of him—it was completely and totally normal to want to try your own cum.

He had done the same thing as he did now—jerked himself off, came in his hand, and lifted it, inspecting the cum. His eyes ran over the thick lines and the slightly watery-clear edge, and slowly, brought it up to his mouth and stuck his tongue out slightly. The tip touched the cum, and Hanma almost recoiled.

Oh fuck, that was actually kind of gross. And people liked swallowing cum? He almost felt bad for everyone who had done it—he couldn’t imagine desiring to taste this incredibly rancid, bitter liquid.

He wiped his hand clean, disgusted, and started looking online. Apparently, according to the plethora of both sketchy and seemingly trustworthy articles, a way to make your cum taste better—or at least less bitter—was to consume pineapple, whether as a juice or just the flesh itself. And honestly, it seemed a little easy. Too easy in fact, but where was the harm? Really, in the worst-case scenario, all Hanma did was just increase his pineapple intake and make his mouth slightly more sore. It wasn’t like there was a big sacrifice he had to make. So he did it.

Kisaki had immediately noticed the dietary change, which wasn’t surprising. The man was incredibly observant—a necessity in their line of work—and of course noticed Hanma all of a sudden chugging pineapple juice and eating pineapple chunks on the regular, especially since he had never done that before.

When Kisaki inquired, Hanma would just give him a sharp, shit-eating grin and evade the question with some ridiculous answer or his normal, light-hearted taunting, which was enough to make Kisaki roll his eyes and drop it.

So Hanma kept at it. He noticed a slight difference at first—the bitterness subsided a bit, but it wasn’t like he was doing a serious scientific experiment here, he just thought it did. And it wasn’t like it was the worst thing Hanma ever had to do. Drinking pineapple juice to improve his cum’s taste wasn’t exactly like having to file ridiculous administrative paperwork or sit around and wait for Kisaki to give him orders like a robot that needed an activation phrase to start. Really, there was no harm. It was pretty boring as far as shit he’s had or wanted to do.

Plus, he wouldn’t admit to it out loud honestly, just potentially ironically, but he kinda liked tasting his own cum. It felt scandalous, but also safe—it was his own cum he was swallowing, but again, it was his own cum. Not like he could get a disease or something worse from eating his own bodily fluids.

Hanma sighed, dropping his hand down next to him on the couch. He was going to just have to keep trying and see what would happen. He was going to give it a few more days. If there was no visible improvement, he was going to have to call it a bust.

“What are you doing?” Fuck. Hanma almost jolted at the sound of Kisaki’s voice. His eyes widened, and his body stiffened slightly. There wasn’t really going to be a way to explain himself out of this situation. Here he was, on the couch in one of the many lounging areas in the Toman building headquarters, cock out, hand covered in cum—there wasn’t really any reasonable explanation he could provide or any straight up lie he could tell, it was a little too obvious what he had been doing.

Before Hanma could even speak, Kisaki had stormed up to him and stood in front of him, one hand on his hip as his eyes sharply traced over Hanma. Hanma didn’t move—didn’t even really blink, just sat there, face blank, his mind racing a little, as Kisaki stopped to look at the cum on his hand, his soft cock nestled on his boxers, which was starting to perk up a little with the attention Kisaki was giving it, and his slightly flushed face.

“Were you—jerking off?” Kisaki sneered, disgust fully enveloping his tone. He looked like a disapproving teacher, and Hanma shouldn’t have thought of that as kinda hot, but he did. Hanma grinned, looking at Kisaki sharply from under his lashes.

“So what if I was?” Kisaki looked like he had many things to say to that—some of which Hanma could guess, but Kisaki’s face shifted, going through various expressions rapidly before settling on suspicious.

“Is that why you were eating all that pineapple? Were you trying to make your cum taste better?” Wow, okay, Hanma didn’t think he would have guessed that quickly—either he wasn’t as subtle as he thought, which wouldn’t be totally wrong, or Kisaki was much more observant than Hanma thought. Which really meant Hanma downplayed how smart Kisaki was, which, now when he thought of it, probably wasn't the smartest idea.

“Maybe,” Hanma drawled, settling more into the couch as he lifted the arm with his clean head up to rest against the back of the couch. “Why do you ask? Why do you care? Wanna have a taste?” he teased, voice dropping low and quiet at the last sentence.

Hanma didn’t think anything would come of it, he was only goading Kisaki because it was fun, but he didn’t expect the man to shuck off his jacket, loosen his tie to take it off, and roll up his sleeves, leaving him in only his vest, pressed collar shirt, and slacks. Kisaki then dropped to his knees, which actually made Hanma jolt, as Kisaki pressed his hands to Hanma’s slack-covered thighs.

Before Hanma could even ask what was happening, Kisaki reached out to take Hanma’s cock in his hand, and moved forward quickly to put the tip in his mouth, suckling it.

What the fuck? “Shit,” Hanma huffed, his cum-covered hand coming up to slap his mouth, which made an audibly wet sound, but there wasn’t much time for Hanma to get all worked up about it because Kisaki had started to suck harder, causing Hanma to twitch back to life, throbbing and filling up Kisaki’s mouth. Kisaki in fact had to shift to fit Hanma’s cock better in his mouth and it made Hanma’s gut twist up pleasantly.

He wasn’t sure how he got here or how this was even happening. He didn’t think that Kisaki was even a sexual being, much less one that would even come near the proximity of Hanma’s dick, considering his obsession with Tachibana Hinata, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to it. He’d definitely had a few dreams—maybe a lot—involving Kisaki and this was definitely better than anything he imagined.

Hanma didn’t move any of his hands, instead opting to either let them hover in the air, clenching and loosening, or dropping them to the couch and clawing his fingers into the fabric.

Kisaki had started to swallow more of Hanma’s cock, now that it had hardened and made it easier for him to suck on and play with. Hanma didn’t like to brag, but he had a pretty sizable dick—good length, nice thickness, and he hoped that Kisaki was enjoying this as much as Hanma was.

Kisaki had moved to taking half of Hanma’s length down his throat, and Hanma could see the man’s eyes begin to water at the corners a little. Kisaki didn’t stop though, as he kept one hand on the bottom half that he stroked in time with his movements. His dick sucking was methodical, which wasn’t surprising. Kisaki would bob his head, using his tongue to play and drag along the underside of Hanma’s cock, particularly when he pulled up. He’d suck on the head, tonguing the slit and gently dragging his teeth. Kisaki would drool as much as possible, practically coating his cock in spit, which would pool at the base of Hanma’s dick and tangle up in his pubes, and all Hanma could do was think that that was the hottest thing he had ever seen in his short, stupid life.

Kisaki didn’t let much show on his face, but his cheeks were flushed, his lips were shiny, and his eyes were hazy but hiding a sharp alertness—a mission, a goal. He had taken Hanma’s cock further into his mouth, but it was clear it was all he could take—briefly choking on it before pulling back slightly to a more comfortable level. Hanma groaned, already missing the way Kisaki’s throat would flutter and squeeze around his head.

“That’s right, you’re doing so good,” Hanma whispered encouragingly, which earned him a firm squeeze on his thigh. He threw his hands up, making a mental note to apparently not do that again, and decided staying quiet was likely his best option. He didn’t really care for the consequences of his big mouth normally, but here he wasn’t going to let his big mouth stop him from getting some absolutely perfect head from Kisaki. He would rip out his own tongue if need be.

Hanma could already feel he was getting close. Kisaki was picking up the pace, bobbing his head and sucking harder, and Hanma knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pleasure built up in his groin, getting larger and larger, and he felt like he was going to fall over a cliff.

Kisaki’s one hand had gone down to fondle Hanma’s balls, squeezing them carefully and rolling them between his fingers. Kisaki looked up at Hanma from under his lashes, his eyes hooded but practically boring into his soul, and Hanma couldn’t help but fall over the edge. Kisaki went down as far as he could and Hanma couldn’t even get out that he was going to cum before shooting down Kisaki’s throat, his cock and ball throbbing desperately as he filled Kisaki’s mouth.

Hanma's body twitched, mouth open, barely able to choke out a gasp. Kisaki hummed, sending shivers down Hanma’s body as he shook slightly at the over-stimulation. Kisaki didn’t let go immediately, and Hanma watched as Kisaki swallowed, his throat bobbing, and then slowly pulled back, a wet popping noise as he retracted. Kisaki also pulled his hands away, and then directed his gaze to Hanma’s face—Hanma's eyes slightly wide as he waited for whatever the hell Kisaki wanted to do.

“I’d say mission accomplished. You don’t taste terrible,” was all Kisaki remarked, voice clear like the day with only the slightest scratchy hint at what he had done, and he brushed his hands down his front before standing up. He turned and crouched down to grab his tie and coat, and before heading out, had swung his coat onto his shoulder and easily left the room, leaving Hanma as he was before—cock out, soft and leaking on his boxers.

Hanma blinked, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He slumped deeper into the couch, closing his eyes, feelings tangled between deep-seated, loose-limb pleasure and utter confusion. He tilted his head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch, as he stared up at the ceiling.

He had no idea what the fuck just happened, but he didn’t regret it for a fucking second.