Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Poems in the Rain ❯ One-Shot
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: wormmonsoulonfire 
Another yaoi lemon, this time Kenato/Yamaken, written by me and my friend. Ken writes a poem. This is so hentai.
Anime/Manga: Digimon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.30.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Completed
Another yaoi lemon, this time Kenato/Yamaken, written by me and my friend. Ken writes a poem. This is so hentai.
Anime/Manga: Digimon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.30.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Completed
HA HA! A lemon! Yaoi (you know the meaning of that word by now!) and Kenato/Yamaken too!
Poems are courtesy of Sveta. Your copyright, I don't steal anything I swear! And Digimon is not mine. The laptop I'm writing on is not mine. The idea of this story is entirely Sveta's. Tell me again, WHY I'm writing this un-mine fic?... *shrug*
xxxxxxxxxxxPoems in the Rain.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
An evening like any other..
Yamato unlocked the door to someone's quiet insistent knocking and pushed it open. He revealed himself to the stranger, clad in his pink apron tied in a careless knot on his back and shook the flour off his hands. The motion died away when Yamato's eyes approse the very drenched, very distressed Ken standing on the threshold to his apartment. Water drippled down from his sweater and his soaked clinging trousers, making tiny puddles on the floor.
Ken shifted his feet and sniffed guiltily. His indigo hair were set with raindrops like jewels. His face was wet, his teeth were clattering.
Yamato wiped his hands irritably on his apron that was regarded with frank puzzlement and dragged the soaking boy inside.
"Ken? What are you..." Yamato gripped his trembling shoulders and Ken bared his teeth in a grin. His bluish lips hardly moved as he said quietly, "I'm okay.."
"God, you're wet through!"
Yamato started to pull the sweater off Ken over his head, giving it a fierce tug when it wouldn't go off. Ken stood there quietly a little dazed and slightly freezing. Yamato threw the sweater away, immediately getting his pink apron and white shirt stained with water and bent over to take off Ken's damp boots.
"Yamato..." he tried to say while Yamato worked on the laces. Warmth radiated from the blonde boy and Ken basked in delight. "Yamato," he said again obviously disturbed from his message by Yamato's hands unbuttoning his wet shirt. "I.. wrote a poem..."
"God, why do you think they invented the phone in the last century?" Yamato grumbled wrestling with the buttons.
Ken chuckled. "Listen.. It's... important..." He drew an impatient breath when Yamato proceeded to pulling the shirt down his shoulders.
"The boy loves the other
What's wrong with that?
But this feeling is never said."
"Uhu," Yamato nodded distractedly and run his palm up Ken's naked arms. Prickles ran up the pale flesh and Yamato stared in some kind of enchantment.
"That is the sin
That's never said
One man loves another
All's left unsaid."
"Wonderful," Yamato chimed in, half-listening. He assessed Ken's pale chest with his eyes and his hands wandered over the surface in warm circles. His warm hands on the cold skin. Fingers slipped distractedly under the rim of the trousers before walking up to brush the dripping hair from the long pale neck. A kiss warmed his neck. Ken shivered.
"Another one.."
"Uhu..."
"Never tell me what you feel
For I know words lack the will.."
Ken's sensuous lips parted as Yamato briefly caressed them with his fingers. The blonde slid down his body and unzipped his trousers. Ken, haltingly reciting his poem, ran his hand under Yamato's pink apron and did the same thing.
"My feelings true
My words all lie..."
The shirts went flying aside.
"All words are less than one said sigh."
Two boys meshed their bodies together. Lips met lips urgently but gently and petted before the tongues entwined round each other. Soft and hard and hot were mixed in overwhelming emotional kiss.
Ken curved back under Yamato's body and sank to the floor taking Yamato's trousers and underwear with him. The only piece of clothing - the notorious pink apron - was discarded as soon as the blonde kneeled and pressed his warm stomach to the cold clammy skin of Ken's midsection. They kissed again. Ken passed the miraculously materialised tube of lubricant into Yamato's hand.
"Another... another poem," Ken gasped while being lubricated with soft stretching strokes.
Yamato nodded and entered Ken. The boy moaned.
Yamato steadied himself on the floor and went as deep as he could go. He pushed into him without stopping for breath, ignoring Ken's cries, the varieties of 'ahhhhhhhhh' and 'uhmmmmm' emitted in a broken voice.
"The questions (aaaaaaaaaah) are! why you? (ahh) why me?
No answer (ahhhhh!) I believe can be (hmmm!)
Why LUST? Why SEX? Can't live without
(gulped) And being fucked (Ah!) forget the proud.
Oh faster please. (Hmmm!) The reason's lost
Your moans, your sweat: I like the most! (UHM!)
The last cry was the orgasmic one. Ken's voice broke and drowned in repeated gasps echoed by Yamato's hungry intakes of air.
For several moments Ken was lying on his back, totally helpless, moaning under his breath and tossing his head from one shoulder to the other. Yamato lifted his shoulders and took his arm from under Ken. He propped his upper body over the boy and stared down at him with a mysterious smile.
"Make a song of it, can you?" Ken asked breathlessly. A shocked expression fleeted Yamato's face. He rolled his eyes and placed a sound kiss on Ken's lips.
"Much ado about a little fuck," Yamato chuckled.
A troubling peeping sound reached them from the kitchen.
"My cookies!" Yamato grunted and stood up. "An amazing sight, Ken, but you've got to move up."
He went into the kitchen snatching a checked white and black yukata from the door and leaving Ken to clean the mess.
The indigo-haired boy blew a long irritated breath staring up the ceiling.
Ken sat up, dazed, gathered the clothes and went into the bathroom where he dumped the pile into the washing machine. He found a clean red t-shirt that Yamato put on while at home, and thus dressed he went into the kitchen.
Yamato had a bowl of cookies ready on the table. Ken sat on the chair with one leg propped under himself and munched down cookies. Yamato regarded him with a satisfied air.
"You look good in that shirt," he said with an enigmatic look in his eyes.
Ken smiled. "I bet you're thinking up ways to take it off."
Yamato sighed pretentiously disappointed. "I'm crushed! You know me inside and out... How are my cookies by the way?"
Ken suggestively stuck out his tongue with crumbs. "Taste it if you dare!"
The blonde shook his head laughing.
"You won't seduce me this time, Ken."
Two large innocent eyes stared back.
"Me? Never!"
FIN.
Poems are courtesy of Sveta. Your copyright, I don't steal anything I swear! And Digimon is not mine. The laptop I'm writing on is not mine. The idea of this story is entirely Sveta's. Tell me again, WHY I'm writing this un-mine fic?... *shrug*
xxxxxxxxxxxPoems in the Rain.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
An evening like any other..
Yamato unlocked the door to someone's quiet insistent knocking and pushed it open. He revealed himself to the stranger, clad in his pink apron tied in a careless knot on his back and shook the flour off his hands. The motion died away when Yamato's eyes approse the very drenched, very distressed Ken standing on the threshold to his apartment. Water drippled down from his sweater and his soaked clinging trousers, making tiny puddles on the floor.
Ken shifted his feet and sniffed guiltily. His indigo hair were set with raindrops like jewels. His face was wet, his teeth were clattering.
Yamato wiped his hands irritably on his apron that was regarded with frank puzzlement and dragged the soaking boy inside.
"Ken? What are you..." Yamato gripped his trembling shoulders and Ken bared his teeth in a grin. His bluish lips hardly moved as he said quietly, "I'm okay.."
"God, you're wet through!"
Yamato started to pull the sweater off Ken over his head, giving it a fierce tug when it wouldn't go off. Ken stood there quietly a little dazed and slightly freezing. Yamato threw the sweater away, immediately getting his pink apron and white shirt stained with water and bent over to take off Ken's damp boots.
"Yamato..." he tried to say while Yamato worked on the laces. Warmth radiated from the blonde boy and Ken basked in delight. "Yamato," he said again obviously disturbed from his message by Yamato's hands unbuttoning his wet shirt. "I.. wrote a poem..."
"God, why do you think they invented the phone in the last century?" Yamato grumbled wrestling with the buttons.
Ken chuckled. "Listen.. It's... important..." He drew an impatient breath when Yamato proceeded to pulling the shirt down his shoulders.
"The boy loves the other
What's wrong with that?
But this feeling is never said."
"Uhu," Yamato nodded distractedly and run his palm up Ken's naked arms. Prickles ran up the pale flesh and Yamato stared in some kind of enchantment.
"That is the sin
That's never said
One man loves another
All's left unsaid."
"Wonderful," Yamato chimed in, half-listening. He assessed Ken's pale chest with his eyes and his hands wandered over the surface in warm circles. His warm hands on the cold skin. Fingers slipped distractedly under the rim of the trousers before walking up to brush the dripping hair from the long pale neck. A kiss warmed his neck. Ken shivered.
"Another one.."
"Uhu..."
"Never tell me what you feel
For I know words lack the will.."
Ken's sensuous lips parted as Yamato briefly caressed them with his fingers. The blonde slid down his body and unzipped his trousers. Ken, haltingly reciting his poem, ran his hand under Yamato's pink apron and did the same thing.
"My feelings true
My words all lie..."
The shirts went flying aside.
"All words are less than one said sigh."
Two boys meshed their bodies together. Lips met lips urgently but gently and petted before the tongues entwined round each other. Soft and hard and hot were mixed in overwhelming emotional kiss.
Ken curved back under Yamato's body and sank to the floor taking Yamato's trousers and underwear with him. The only piece of clothing - the notorious pink apron - was discarded as soon as the blonde kneeled and pressed his warm stomach to the cold clammy skin of Ken's midsection. They kissed again. Ken passed the miraculously materialised tube of lubricant into Yamato's hand.
"Another... another poem," Ken gasped while being lubricated with soft stretching strokes.
Yamato nodded and entered Ken. The boy moaned.
Yamato steadied himself on the floor and went as deep as he could go. He pushed into him without stopping for breath, ignoring Ken's cries, the varieties of 'ahhhhhhhhh' and 'uhmmmmm' emitted in a broken voice.
"The questions (aaaaaaaaaah) are! why you? (ahh) why me?
No answer (ahhhhh!) I believe can be (hmmm!)
Why LUST? Why SEX? Can't live without
(gulped) And being fucked (Ah!) forget the proud.
Oh faster please. (Hmmm!) The reason's lost
Your moans, your sweat: I like the most! (UHM!)
The last cry was the orgasmic one. Ken's voice broke and drowned in repeated gasps echoed by Yamato's hungry intakes of air.
For several moments Ken was lying on his back, totally helpless, moaning under his breath and tossing his head from one shoulder to the other. Yamato lifted his shoulders and took his arm from under Ken. He propped his upper body over the boy and stared down at him with a mysterious smile.
"Make a song of it, can you?" Ken asked breathlessly. A shocked expression fleeted Yamato's face. He rolled his eyes and placed a sound kiss on Ken's lips.
"Much ado about a little fuck," Yamato chuckled.
A troubling peeping sound reached them from the kitchen.
"My cookies!" Yamato grunted and stood up. "An amazing sight, Ken, but you've got to move up."
He went into the kitchen snatching a checked white and black yukata from the door and leaving Ken to clean the mess.
The indigo-haired boy blew a long irritated breath staring up the ceiling.
Ken sat up, dazed, gathered the clothes and went into the bathroom where he dumped the pile into the washing machine. He found a clean red t-shirt that Yamato put on while at home, and thus dressed he went into the kitchen.
Yamato had a bowl of cookies ready on the table. Ken sat on the chair with one leg propped under himself and munched down cookies. Yamato regarded him with a satisfied air.
"You look good in that shirt," he said with an enigmatic look in his eyes.
Ken smiled. "I bet you're thinking up ways to take it off."
Yamato sighed pretentiously disappointed. "I'm crushed! You know me inside and out... How are my cookies by the way?"
Ken suggestively stuck out his tongue with crumbs. "Taste it if you dare!"
The blonde shook his head laughing.
"You won't seduce me this time, Ken."
Two large innocent eyes stared back.
"Me? Never!"
FIN.