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The room was light, built like it was made from the softest clouds and filled with a delicate moonlight. A breeze from somewhere fluttered the sheer curtains and other drapery, dancing to the sounds of distant waves and the much louder chorus of noise filling the bedroom. Clothing, pieces of tattered cloth and metal fell wayside the to floor; belts, accessories, even a familiar helmet lead a path to the large center bed, duvet and sheets pushed away where the two men laid entangled passionately in each other’s arms, nude save for only a single black cloth mask covering the man on top’s face and head, tied back in its bandito fashion.
Maybe it was silly in the moment, Mysterion so adamant on his identity remaining anonymous that even in the moment of very heated sex that the mask had to stay on, considering with the rest of his uniform thrown to the wayside and every detail of his naked form on full display. But that one detail was very important to him, especially with the context of who his partner was, the man under him in the absolute throes of passion… was in fact his arch nemesis.
Chaos, completely uncovered from his own layers and shining adornments, and that obnoxious, almost pretentious helm stripped away, leaving pale flushed skin exposed, arms fallen back where they had been latched around the other’s neck as his lithe body stretched up to meet his. That electric teal gaze lidded under fair blonde lashes stared back at him, the space between them so close the wet heat of their skin and breath mingled together like an ebb and flow. Peachy lips panted open, begging to be kissed again, and who was Mysterion to be one not to heed such a call, ducking down to capture his enemy once more.
Warm skin under his finger tips, warm lips to his, a rhythm to his hips that felt unending as he thrust into a pliant body like the low tide of gentle but powerful ocean waves. How long had they been at it? The hero didn’t know actual; hours maybe, days even. Flashes of different scenarios flickered in his memory like minutes ticking by. The usual games of their mischievous cat and guard dog dynamic melted in the dreamy atmosphere, nothing but a carnal desire for one another that turned from physical wants and needs into this level of emotional lovemaking. Every nip and bite, rough yank on clothes and hair to forceful shove and shout melted into long lip locks and hands so desperate to hold on any limb or stretch of skin, an underlying fear that none of this was real. Mysterion felt his rhythm slow, a pause in his hips as he pulled back from the other’s mouth. Suddenly he was more wholly aware of their entanglement, despite Chaos being the taller between them, the vigilante easily had bulk and power over him, one hand hiking a thigh near parallel to them as the other leg locked itself around the small of his back, keeping them so much closer. Mysterion was able to pull himself back just enough, peering at the space between them. More plush skin just begging to have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints pressed all over, those sharp hip bones would be a great place to start. He let his gaze travel lower, the dusting of pale blonde hairs from his navel all the way to the clean crop framing his cock, shining and dripping, fuck how bad did he want it in his mouth again. The clear memory of that exact image played, a shiver dancing down his spine at the weight and flavor on his tongue, all while long fingers played with the long fringe of his own chopped locks peeking under the bandana he used to try and hide them. The hero tried to hold back a groan in turn, but failed the second he looked lower, his own thick member half pulled out of the pliant and willing body under him, a clear view of the way it stretched him open in such a delicious way, He pushed back in, slowly, deliberately, drinking in the warmth while Chaos let out such a lovely sigh, Mysterion briefly wondered if he always sounded so nice as another distant thought reminded him that he should hate that high whine or bell-chime of a laugh. But none of that mattered, he was too blinded for him to consider any of this being a bad thing, not as the other man cried out for him again, sounding like he was on an endless loop of ecstasy and the masked man was chasing right behind him with every motion.
Right, the mask.
Mysterion had gotten so distracted, he froze on the spot once he registered those delicate fingers reaching to cup his cheeks, a thumb lightly tracing the line that divided skin and fabric. And he froze, eyes wide under the black cloth, instantly looking back to meet the villain’s. Fuck, how awful of him was it to think he looked downright cute in the moment, a mastermind of heinous villain who always carried that glint of evil in his visage now looked up to him with such a soft expression, a question hanging whispered in the silence between them as the thumb edged oh so slightly beneath the fabric right under his left eye. It made Mysterion’s breath hitch; there should have been panic, anger, anything that got distance between them despite their intimate position. Nothing, as he exhaled the air he was holding, a slow understanding blink and a nod.
Chaos reached both hands up to slide the mask over Mysterion’s face, fabric falling away beside them and out of sight.
It first caused the hero to blink harder, like it was some new adjustment. Nevermind the fact he couldn’t feel the stickiness of the black greasepaint that usually also accompanied him under the makeshift cowl, but only the featherlight touch of his damp overgrown fringe falling back to its natural place, almost a new curtain shielding his sight and making him fully shut his eyes. The soft touch was back, this time brushing the strands away and gently cupping his jaw between its palms. Mysterion opened his eyes reluctantly, the regret of what he just allowed to happen instantly hitting him.
He just let Chaos unmask him. His number one rule, his absolute enemy de facto.
He was completely unshielded from him.
But what he saw…
There was no malice, no ‘gotcha’ moment as he knew was just a part of the typical Chaos MO. Only those brilliant gems staring back under a dusting of pink, a clean scar sliced over the left eye that was always a grim reminder of just how entangled their lives have always been, and an expression of reverence. A quiet exhale that sounded like he was holding the most precious thing in the world in his hands, and a smile that melted into the most heartwarming expression, like he could cry at any moment. Lips parted to speak, forming the shape of words, but it was like the sound was on mute no matter how hard the other tried to focus. It clicked though, whatever Chaos said clicked hard, having Mysterion’s own eyes wide again, wet with the threat of his own tears, nearly collapsing as he needed to have this man in his arms again, pulling him in so tight the other reaching to cling just as hard.
This was right.
Everything melted to a fuzzy haze, their passionate grasp of one another domino’d into Mysterion plunging himself deeper, both a sighing mess as every slight touch and movement felt like matches striking, sparks flying and a buzzing hum that almost made him feel high, the good high where you didn’t need to think anymore, everything just this blank burning of dangerous positive feeling lighting every nerve ending; a deep hypnotic that he’s only ever tasted a few times but could never chase for fear of addiction. Imagining only living in this feeling for eternity scared him… Scared him so bad for how much he wanted it.
“Mysterion-” A honeyed voice called out to him, causing him to sigh at the sound. His hands gripped harder, pulling out again to the throbbing tip and that fluttery warm entrance welcomed him home as he thrust back in. Both loudly gasp in unison, but the other tittered off into a laugh. “And you’ve been hiding so much from me all this time. I can’t believe it.”
The way Chaos’ voice would pant at each punctuation of a thrust as Mysterion couldn’t stop himself now, a low growl humming in his throat and the only thought playing on repeat of how his body craved this feeling. Each fluid piston motion as his cock throb in want and the low, endless spiral burning in his gut and fraying all the edges of reason. Flowing with the rhythm set to every cry Chaos rang out like a devastating siren’s call.
“M-Mysterion–” It was sung in a whisper, so close to his ear, begging–
“Ken.”
“Huh?” It was a surprise to both of them, the other’s voice low, but nothing like the gravel rasp he always used as an intimidation tactic. No, it was warm like cinnamon whiskey by a fireplace, melting over his ears like it was the only sound he ever needed to hear again.
“Just Ken.” Mysterion whispered again, almost in a desperate yearning.
“Ken.” Like he was sounding out the name with other syllables, it was a little off, but with each breathy repeat it flowed more naturally. “Ken.”
There was an emotion in there, one that kept pulling on the hero’s heart, almost wishing he could rip it out and give it to the man in his arms. He would sink to his knees and hand it to him like a sacred treasure, watching while the other would hold it, trace every vein with that same reverence he gave to his bare face and let the touch send those same flared sparks screaming down his bloodstream.
“Ken–”
Warmth curled in his lungs like he was drowning, gasping loud as he couldn’t tell what was pounding harder. At the same time Chaos only got louder, every moan and hitched gasp spiraling into that same direction as his back bowed deeper. Crying his name; no alias dividing him, not his birth name or the way everyone he knows shortened it, but the name he told him to say.
“Ken! P-Please I–”
Mysterion opened his mouth, wanting his lover’s own name on his tongue so badly. But it suddenly hit with such deafening force.
He didn’t know Chaos’ name.
He’d probably never know his name
If he did… wouldn’t that be the end of it?
“KEN! Ken– Oh God, I’m– Ken, I’m–”
He was ripped back into the moment, blunt nailed on his back and a shaking body clinging to his gasping as he felt the ripples of intense pleasure between them. A seeping warmth dripped in between them and the buzz filled the spaces. His cock twitching with each hip stutter and an even thicker pool of cum filling the other man, stuffed to the point it was also dripping pearlescent beads at the point where they remained sealed together. Both a huffing mess, where Mysterion’s mouth still fell open but now panting, he used that to pull Chaos in a deep kiss, both open mouthed and gasping, tongues tasting to keep that buzz of nerves vibrating between them.
When they let go for air they didn’t feel like they really needed, they simply stared into each other again; no masks, no layers, no longer even Mysterion or Chaos. Just that light feeling of some emotion, one undefined until it twists back into that carnal need, a hunger never sated.
“Ken…”
That devious siren called again, voice filled with everything he wanted, begging him again and again to drive him to that precipice and hang each other again.
To sink in a beautiful dazed oblivion together–
–
-
It was like a full-body shock to the system when Kenny woke up, laying on top of his own bed at least, but still cloaked in his vigilante garb; sweat, mask, greasepaint and all. It wasn’t odd to still be in uniform and waking up in places, often after patrols he would just crash in his bed still dressed in the early mornings, just to grab a few fleeting hours of sleep before the day began again. Probably not the best thing as he got older, but hasn’t killed him yet. Or if it did, it didn’t matter.
Staring up at the beige ceiling of his dorm room, wide-eyed and on edge, this funky adrenaline rushing his veins, he was left to collect himself, calm down in some way.
At least he didn’t die last night. He thinks.
He definitely never had dreams like that if he did die, what the fuck was that even?
He let out a groan, reaching a hand to cover his eyes, gloves a very unwelcomed texture, to the uncovered bottom half of his face, but at least it told him his mask was still tied firm to the top. Yeah, the mask was still there… His heart was still thumping wildly while his thoughts wondered, a pulse that he could also feel elsewhere. It just made him groan louder.
Oh, fuck.
It all hit him like a plunge of cold water.
Great, he not only had this fucking, wierd-ass horny dream about Professor Chaos of all people, he was also hard from it.
Terrible start to his morning, really.
With a loud sigh, Kenny ripped the glove off his nearby hand while his other hand, remaining gloved, struggled to tug his belt and pants away, untucking the hoodie and undershirt while refusing to move an inch. He could feel his dick practically springboard out of his leggings, maybe it would have been impressive to someone watching, but to him it was just annoying. And with how bad he was leaking? Shit, did he actually come in his pants? He really didn’t want to know…
At least, no, he didn’t, there was just a lot of pre dripping from the spongy head, giving it a light touch, and holy fuck– he was sensitive as hell. Usually a bad thing, but if it made this little jack off session even quicker he wasn’t about to complain. He gave practiced grip, steady and firm, letting the slickness guide his moves, sighing at the touch and letting his lull back further. Staring blankly at the ceiling again, he let his mind empty dangerously, letting in all the visions of his wet dream flicker like a flip book. It was pathetic wasn’t it? He can’t believe of all things he let Chaos unmask him, fuck, he told him his name? What was he thinking?
Something apparently… Thinking on that moment just a little too much, that fucking smug bastard having no right to look at him so longingly and sound so– moaning his name like that–
Kenny all too quickly felt every muscle tense as his hips jerked, like a sparkle of fireworks bursting and his gasp seizing, cock twitching in his palm as its seed shot wildly, almost shocked it made it partway up his chest before oozing beneath his navel.
He couldn’t tell if it was good or not, probably a record at least.
It kind of just made Kenny feel worse…
And means he needed to do extra laundry, grimacing as he finally glanced down again, uniform already a mess, but just made worse being covered in his own jizz.
Fucking hell…