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Crack-Party	By : obscureXdeath Category: Dir en grey > General Views: 1209 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Dir en grey, this is a really big work of fiction, there is no money/profit made from this. Dear lord, who would pay me?

Chapter List
- 1-Crack-Party
- 1
Friday. 7 P.M. A random, unimportant date. Shinya was sitting on his bed, preparing for the night's events. He had already got his hurr did and now was working on getting his nails done. Katy Perry was playing on his stereo and he quietly hummed along to the beat.
A sexy corset framed his middle, and a pair of heels dressed his feet. It wasn't a party if Shinya wasn't lookin' like a ho. Yeah, that's right. Shinya was throwing a party. A sleepover—one of epic, badass proportions and only for select people. Namely, his band-mates. They were gonna get crunk. Except for Kyo.
Suddenly, a knock sounded from the door, followed by a doorbell, then a knock, and then another five-hundred rings of the doorbell. Shut the fuck up, jeeze! He was coming! Shinya walked his ho-self out of his room and opened the door, to find Toshiya standing there. Of course, it would be Toshiya who would have to ring the bell a million times. Well then, his first guest had arrived. Now, he just had to wait for Die, Kyo, and Kaoru. He expected the latter two to show up late.
Without saying a hello or anything to Shinya, Toshiya suddenly gasped. "OH EM GEE, is that Katy Perry?!" he exclaimed, rushing near the bedroom. He then proceeded to booty dance, singing the lyrics of the song badly.
While bitch-tittery was happening in Shinya’s crack-house home, buzzed navigation was occurring on the outside. Die was slightly drunk—he was always drunk—and the fact that he had huge hooker boots on didn’t help matters, any. Awkwardly, he clambered up the steps and smacked on the door, struggling not to fall over.
Goshdarnit, he had to look sexy for Shinya. Shinya was Die’s sexy man-lady, always lookin’ so fine—mmhmm, he sure was. Die could be sexy for him, in return, even if it meant dressing like a big ol’ ho. He had them fishnets, those boots, hot-pants… Shirtless, with ribs all over the place—black electrical-tape formed X’s over his nipples. To top it off, Die had a big, red, mullet-lookin’ weave on his head—he felt a strange combination of light inebriation, sluttishness, and nostalgia.
Shinya heard a noise at the door, as though someone had just fallen into it. That had to be Die or some homeless man, desperate for food and shelter, again. Damn them homeless, daring to come onto Shinya's beautiful porch. Opening the door, he found Die standing there looking all hot, sexy, and slutty like a big ol' man ho. Shinya stood aside to invite Die in, which was when his phone rang. Without so much as a gesture, Shinya ran to get that. It was Kaoru, informing him that he and his man-slut were on their way to Shinya's rockin' party.
Toshiya came bounding out into the living area, feeling the music, humping the air like it was a sexy lover. Oh yeah, more of that sweet Katy Perry—he tongued a lot of different people, of many genders, and he liked that. Well, for the most part—there were a couple of regretful moments and that time that he had sliced his lip open on his braces. Naw, shit—being a ho was so fun. Toshiya knew the message of Katy Perry well. He wanted to be a California Girl.
While all was going down at the house of Shinya, Kyo and Kaoru were in the car. Kyo's belly was rumbling like a mofo. In fact, it hurt. He was fucking hungry and he needed to get some food all up in that shit. Luckily, Shinya had food, and he planned to eat it. All of it, like a ravenous wolf, after prey, and that prey was party food.
Kaoru was driving like a slow grandpa, which was annoying Kyo. He sighed over-dramatically, moments before they pulled into Shinya's driveway. Once the car was parked, Kyo hauled his ass out of the car. With two-hundred pounds of baby attached to his front.
Makin’ sure that Kyo wasn’t toppling over the steps, Kaoru led the other up the stairs and proceeded to knock on the door. Even from outside, there was an ominous bass-line thumpin’—someone was blastin’ them sweet tunes… yo. Toshiya was their door-man, flinging it open, and swinging some horrendous, bluish dreads around on his head. “Come on in, honey-cakes,” he bassist drawled in a suspiciously southern accent, faintly trembling with the restraint required to not grind all up on Kyo and Kaoru, as they walked inside of the house.
Kyo wobbled in the door like some unbalanced penguin and sought out the nearest seating arrangement. That short walk from the car to the house made him exhausted. His pregnant ass needed to sit down before he died or something. Making himself kind of at home, Kyo plopped down on the couch and made a sound like something deflating. After he was less exhausted, he finally spoke. “There better be food here, and it better get in my stomach really soon, or I’m going to eat the couch.”
“Mmhmm, honey-bee,” Toshiya remarked, just southerning all over the place, again. The bassist had really no intentions of supplying food to Kyo, because he was too busy feeling the Lady Gaga that was blaring on Shinya’s stereo system, now. However, he had enough time to inform the blonde that there was food on the premises.
Shinya came tripping out of the kitchen, balancing a pizza box, a bowl of popcorn, and some special beverages, which were stuffed into the popcorn, precariously. All of this, he plunked down on the coffee table, before looking around, like a frightened antelope in Africa. In the kitchen, Die had been on his ass like a hungry, species-crossin’ lion, and the drummer was scared of dropping the food all over the floor. To add injury to the insult, the red-weaved guitarist would probably proceed to molest Shinya’s ass, in front of everyone. No, Shinya was not havin’ any of that. No ma’ammers.
As soon as the food hit the coffee table, Kaoru had a surge of the lover’s intuition that told him to get food for his pregnant man-ho. It was a learned talent, this telepathy, which sent the brunette skittering over and snagging a big ol’ hunk of pizza out of the box. “Here, baby,” Kaoru said, passing the pizza over to the singer, and hoping that it was pizza that the other wanted. God forbid, if the telepathy had failed him!
Kyo could have eaten a dead horse right then, he was so hungry. He was perfectly fine with pizza; that thing could be covered with anchovies and cat poop and he would still eat it. Even though Kyo was starving, he had to savor this cat poop and anchovy free slice of pizza. He took a bite of the end piece, and gave out a moan of food-gasm pleasure as he savored the cheesy, meaty, greasy slice of heaven.
Kaoru gave an inward sigh of relief and sort of sagged to the side, wrist going a little too limp for his liking. Quickly, he straightened up. No, no—none of that. He might have been wearing some tiny black and purple abomination of a bikini top; a mini-skirt over his lacy, black panties; and five-inch high-heels—but he wasn’t going to be that kind of queer. Not a chance—Toshiya could keep that slut-shit, for himself.
Trying to walk in a manly fashion, yet somehow feeling as though he was failing, the guitarist swished on over to the coffee table and snatched up a can of beer. He popped the tab and took a vigorous chug, spewing some booze, as he pulled it from his lips. Ho-shit, there was nothing like getting it in his beard, to make Kaoru feel like the baddest, manliest, man-bitch in the room.
Toshiya, on the other hand, came flying past with the stereo remote in his hand, cranking this massive blast of Gaga—clearly, he wasn’t feeling manly, but he seemed to be just embracing it. At some point, he had shed his clothes, because all that remained was a neon-blue thong. Kaoru was thankful that he was on his first beer; otherwise, the shifting and clenching of the bassist’s air-humping ass might have started to have that beer-goggly allure to it.
Everything was going well; Kyo's pizza was mighty delicious, filling his belly slowly, bit by bit. His appetite was somewhat spoiled when Toshiya came in, air-thrusting with his ass all exposed. It was like a train wreck; it was kind of nast, but Kyo couldn't entirely look away. The undulation of his ass was hypnotizing, like some swinging pocket watch. The look on Kyo’s face was probably a look of confusion and mild disgust. He had never been attracted to Toshiya, and this certainly wasn't helping.
Tottering in his whore-shoes, Die sent himself towards the living room, from the kitchen, with purpose. Back in Shinya’s kitchen-nook, he had caught sight of the drummer’s cranny, as the younger male was busily bent over into the refrigerator—but the little dick had managed to run away and Die was enflamed with cock-blocked lust. He hoped that it was lust, making his crotch burn, anyway, because the trips to the clinic were getting to be a little much.
“Hey, Kyo,” the red-mulleted guitarist casually tossed as he sprinted drunkenly past, not bothering to wait for or catch an answer from the singer. Shinya saw him coming and made a left-bearing dive for safety, which normally would have given him reason to make chase, but Die was a bit of an opportunist—and opportunity was shaking its scrawny, thong-framed ass around in front of the stereo system. Without skipping a beat, but tripping over his massive hooker-boots, Die launched himself at Toshiya and latched on. His skinny arms went locking around the bassist’s middle and his hips went flopping like some sort of mackerel; pelvis thwapping against terror-tensed buttocks mercilessly.
A gurgling screech of horror spilled out of Toshiya—he wanted to just dance, not catch Chlamydia or whatever their guitarist’s STD-of-the-week was. But his anus was feeling threatened by the impending possibility of colon-probing—then, he had to take a moment to think logically. This was Die humping him. His colon was nowhere near being probed—it wasn’t like Shinya was trying to mount him like a dead moose on the wall. Now, that would have called for some panic, because the amount of preparation that would probably be required for that would have had to have been started the day before… and then, he would probably still be grabbing onto a pillow and crying for his mommy.
Kyo remembered back in the day, when he wasn't fat and getting pounded in the ass, he could hump like that. Hell, he could hump better than that. He was a fucking humping king. All this humping was making him feel vaguely awkward though, and jealous. "So...um, anyone...catch...the gaaameee? Last night?" Kyo said, looking for any excuse to change the 'subject', and sound sort of manly.
Kaoru took another swig of his beer and crooked an eyebrow up. “There was a game? What game?” he questioned, as he pulled the can from his mouth. The guitarist was so confused, right then. What else was Kyo doing, without him knowing? How had this even happened? He had spent an exceptionally awkward moment, rubbing diaper rash cream on Kyo’s butt and then rubbing his big, swollen feet—when had he found the fucking time to watch a game? Dear God, Kyo was cheating on him!
“You cheater!” With an agonized sob, the guitarist plunked his beer down on the coffee table and slapped his tiny hands over his face. In his attempt to run away in those heels of his, he tripped over Shinya’s rug and probably forced Die balls-deep into Toshiya, with the shove he gave them in passing, but he finally managed to reach the bathroom and barricade himself inside for a good cry.
Kyo groaned and hauled his fat self off the couch, waddling after Kaoru. He hadn't imagined that a little white lie to distract the two humpees would turn into something so drastic. It seemed to take an eternity getting to the bathroom, with as slow as he was moving. He had as much grace and speed as a turtle crossed with a house right now.
Without bothering to knock, Kyo made his way into the bathroom like he was about to beat some ass, but quietly closed the door behind him. "Kaoru, you dumb ass. What the hell would I cheat on?" Kyo was fairly annoyed and irritated, what with all these pregnancy hormones flying around. He didn't even care about watching what he said right now.
What? What? Kaoru was a ‘what’ now? A terrible honk of a cry rattled out of the guitarist and he clapped his hands over his face again, twisting himself from side to side, like he was rejecting something. “I’m a what,” he half-way shouted into his palms, “And a dumb-ass? Pregnancy has made you so mean!” For all he knew, Toshiya could be that baby’s daddy, but Kaoru, no, Kaoru stuck around and stayed with Kyo, anyway—and that was what he got? Verbal abuse?
"That's not what I mean," Kyo groaned. Kyo, too, put his hand over his face, trying to think about how he was going to explain this. It honestly shouldn't be too hard, really, but his brain was lacking coherent thought at the moment.
"I'm not cheating on you," Kyo said, finally removing his hand from his face. "There was no game. I was just trying to sort of… change the subject, kind of. All that humping in there made me feel awkward and a little jealous that I can't do that right now... and stop thrashing around. You're going to hurt yourself." Kyo was used to thrashing and twisting; Kaoru was not. When they played, Kaoru was like some guitar-wielding barnacle.
Eyes watering like he had been munching on spicy peppers, Kaoru turned and looked at Kyo. He swallowed hard and sniffled deeply, in a moment of thought and re-composure, and swiped at a damp cheek. “We can still do it from the back,” the guitarist finally managed, wistfully remembering the last time that he and Kyo had played ass-tag. It had been a crisp, winter evening and there was the sound of the washing machine, running an uneven load… or something like that. Maybe… or maybe he had just dreamed that up.
"I guess..." Kyo said, just wanting to get out of the bathroom. To be honest, with all the added weight, it was still hard to hump like it was in the old days. "Come on. There's a party or something outside. Do you want to spend it in the bathroom crying? There's food out there. Food is better than crying."
A moment passed where Kaoru soaked his tears back up, like some sort of sponge. During this moment, he also sucked Kyo’s words into his ears and became less sad and more cock-blocked feeling. Shit, he had really wanted to try to bang Kyo over the sink, too.
“Okay,” the guitarist finally acquiesced, opening his eyes wide and looking up at the ceiling, as his hands fanned at his face in an attempt to dry himself without smearing his makeup, “Alright, I’m good… Let’s go back.”
With that, Kyo awkwardly maneuvered his fat around and headed out of the bathroom, with Kaoru closely behind. A fast-strung splurt of something about interrogating someone about what they would do with a lot of humps hit the guitarist’s ears before they reached the living area and he was terrified by the prospect of what they might find this time. Toshiya had probably given birth to Die’s skank-baby, already.
But no, Toshiya wasn’t birthing yet, just slightly scarred-looking. Huddled on Shinya’s couch, cupping his thong-covered crotch with his hands, and Die was dabbing at the front of his hot-pants with a paper towel—so, things could have been a lot worse, really.
Fairly disturbed, but not disturbed enough to be put off from his never-ending quest for food, Kyo snagged some chips that had been laid out in his absence, and took a seat furthest from Toshiya. Before he could even eat one though, Shinya came in from the kitchen, after doing who knows what, seeming like he was on a mission.
"Stop fucking around and start thinking," Shinya said, giving an annoyed look towards Die. The bastard; fucking anything that would move or exist. Really? Toshiya? Now, that was low. Shinya thought Die's standards were higher, not to mention Die was his boyfriend and he was fucking around right in front of him. Shinya was really never much of an angry person, though; unless he was drunk. Then, he threw people in fountains. "We're going to play truth or dare."
From his position of safety on the couch, Toshiya perked up slightly. “I like truth or dare,” he remarked, thinking of the time that he and Shinya had shared a friendly, girlfriend-like moment of intimacy, over some drunken truth or dare, years ago.
Kaoru made his way over to the couch and dropped himself next to Kyo’s preg-fat and the bassist’s hopeful, traumatized self, making sure that he reclaimed his abandoned beer and took a hearty gulp. Die shifted his shorts uncomfortably and plunked himself down on Shinya’s love-seat and the drummer reluctantly claimed the last open space, glaring daggers at him, as he did.
After finally stuffing his mouth full of chips, just as he had with Kaoru's penis that one night, Kyo spoke. After swallowing, of course... just like he had done with Kaoru, that one night.
"Who's first?" Kyo said, feeling slightly more satisfied now. He was a little nervous about this truth or dare. It was a fun game, but truth or dare was still pretty dangerous in the wrong hands or diabolical minds.
“Die—truth or dare?” Shinya snapped, not really being democratic about things. He turned his head to the side and looked at the red-mulleted bitch for a moment, before reaching towards the coffee table and yanking a drink towards himself. A long finger popped the tab and he started sucking the liquid down like his surname was Lovelace. Shit was on, homie-crack—when Shinya drank, it got serious.
Die felt a bit frightened, in that moment. Shinya had gotten the beer; shit was going to go down, and he knew it. Oh, was he in the dog house now. Literally, the dog house. Shinya was going to probably lock him in Miyu's doghouse, or whatever dog he had now, later, as some type of cruel punishment.
"Dare," Die said, immediately regretting his decision. His intoxicated mind prevented him from thinking correctly, and now he was fucked.
Shinya felt a sadism-tinged smile creeping onto his face as he turned to face Die, taking another swig of his drink. Bitch was going to get it, now. “Take these off,” he said, reaching out and snapping the waistband of the guitarist’s tiny shorts, “And lick off what’s left of that load you blew in there.” Yeah, Shinya was going there.
"What?!" Die said, stammering slightly, "Are you serious?" That was just gross. Sure, Shinya had showed him who was boss sometimes and got him in the face with his own personal brand of facial moisturizer, but his own man-spunk? He didn't really even like getting it from Shinya. Yeah, Shinya was his man but Die just wasn't that type of guy!
“Do I look like I’m kidding with you?” Shinya snapped. The can that he held in his hand made a slight, metallic crunch, as his fingers faintly crushed the sides. “Take them off.”
Shinya was killing two birds with one stone. He was getting Die back for having the nerve to get off with someone else, in front of him—with all the clap that the guitarist managed to come down with, Shinya knew that he was boinking other people. But Shinya was a strong lady-thing and he could let Die have those nasty hos—just not in his house.
But then, there was this little matter of how much of a creeper that the guitarist had been, back in the day. Cornering him in dressing rooms between photo-shoots, forcing him to expose his panties—taking photos that the drummer knew that he still used as book-marks, in his porno magazines. Fuck yes, Shinya was serious.
Die recoiled slightly at Shinya's growing rage. Okay, yeah, Shinya was pretty damn serious. Die wasn't going to chance it; he had never really seen the things Shinya could do, but it was always the quiet ones. Always the quiet ones who cut off their man's penis and threw it in a field.
"Alright, alright..." Die said nervously, getting ready to take down ye ol' trousers. It wasn't really that weird to get naked in front of his friends. There had been many a drunken parties in which some of them ended up naked, writhing on the floor and listening to Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds, where some other substances may have been abused. However, he had never been forced to partake in licking his own man-seed.
Wanting to get it over with, Die yanked off his pants and pulled them open, wincing in disgust at the sight before him. Not necessarily the jizz, but the thought of what was going to happen. He closed his eyes, a look of disgust and fear on his face, as he began lapping up the remnants of what could have been the children of a million women.
A chorus of ewws rang out through the room; Die wasn't sure who they were, because he was too busy being grossed out. This was nasty. He thought of good things. Beer, sex, beer, sex, booze, sex, booze, booze. Finally, he was done, and he flung the pants beside him instead of putting them back on right away. "Never again... Kaoru, go. Truth, dare, do one of them."
Kaoru startled out of his disgust-induced stupor and grimaced, still fixed on the sight of Die’s skinny thighs and the thought of him licking jizz. “Um…” he finally managed, weighing his options. Well, Die had chosen dare and was promptly screwed in the mouth. “I’ll choose truth.” That seemed slightly safer.
Die tried to think, but his mind still wasn't working. With the taste of jizz still fresh in his mouth and the alcohol, thinking was not currently his strong suit. He looked around the room, hoping it would give him a clue. His eyes landed on Kyo and he blurted out the first thing he could think of. "Are you really the baby-daddy of Kyo's kid?"
"Excuse me?!" Kyo blurted out almost immediately. What was he implying?!
The way that Kyo jumped to shit made Kaoru slightly suspicious. He had better be genuinely insulted by the question and not just feeling guilty. “Yeah, I’m the baby-daddy…” He hoped, because the idea of raising their bassist’s child as Kyo’s and his own sounded pretty depressing. “Okay, Toshiya—truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Toshiya stated, leaning forward and snatching a handful of popcorn out of the bowl on the coffee table. Kaoru had gotten off just fine with choosing truth—he could get with that shit. What he could not get with was licking his own sperm up. Oh, the notion that he had caused those sperm to be birthed and subsequently murdered… it weighed heavily upon his soul.
Shit—Kaoru had kind of hoped that Toshiya would have chosen dare. It seemed like that funky, dread-headed skank would have been up to doing a shit-load of weird stuff, but no, he went and chose truth. What a Lady-Gaga-listening-to-douche.
His eyes bounced around the room, much like Die’s had, and landed on that awkward, limp dick of the red-head’s. Oh shit, nast and a half, right there—but he was going to take a little bit of revenge on Die, for making him doubt his fertility and paternal contributions. “How big was the biggest dick you’ve ever had in your ass?” It certainly hadn’t been Die’s…
For a moment, Toshiya sat there, thoughtfully munching upon a mouthful of buttery popcorn. Actually, it sort of tasted like burnt, rubber ass, but that was aside from the point. The biggest dick in his ass… Well, there was the seven-incher that he had taken in the face-hole, at that party, once. There was the four-incher and the five-incher that he had jerked off, in the USA, that one time. The six-incher that he had rubbed with his feet, in Germany. Shit… what was the biggest dick that he had taken in th—
“Oh, shit… I forgot. I’ve never taken it in the ass, before,” Toshiya finished, with a horse-like exhale fluttering his lips around. That made sense, why he couldn’t remember it, because there was nary a dick that the bassist had seen, that he forgot.
"You liar!" Die said, finally putting his pants back on as he did so, then dropping himself back on the couch, keeping as much space between Shinya and himself, as possible.
"Seriously?" Kyo asked, leaning forward in curiosity to look at the bassist, but didn't get very far because there was an enormous blockage of stomach in his way. "You're a virgin?" Kyo was sure that Toshiya had taken it up the ass before he had, and everyone knew that Kyo had taken it up the ass.
For an awkward moment, the bassist fish-faced, opening and closing his mouth, because he couldn’t find anything to really say. “I guess?” he finally caved, “I mean… I’ve done some weird shit. Shit involving eating curly fries off of a guy’s rod before, but I’ve never taken one up the butt.”
Shinya nodded contemplatively, taking a drink, and tapped his fingers on the arm of the love-seat. “The fries were good, at least, weren’t they?” he inquired, thinking back on that furtive, homoeroticism-meets-culinary-fetishism-type moment in their lives.
“They were,” Toshiya agreed, recalling the way that he had jerked that angry-looking dick of Shinya’s until it was obnoxiously erect. How they had meticulously pulled the coils of those fries loose enough for them to be wrapped about the drummer’s length and situated. It had been one of the most intimate, satisfying experiences of Toshiya’s life—and so forbidden, it was perfect… “Anyway—Kyo, truth or dare?”
"Dare," Kyo said, not about to be some kind of pussy. He needed to break this whole truth cycle thing going on, too. Shit had to be even. There couldn't just be three truths in a row— that shit would not work. "Go ahead. I can take it, whatever it is. I'll walk down the damn street naked. I'll put tassels on my nipples and sing Camptown Races." Kyo wasn't afraid anymore. He was a badass.
Fuck-damn-it, those would have been good fucking dares, but it didn’t seem quite right for Kyo to basically name his own dare. That would make him too prepared for shit. Naw, he needed to do something awkward and fucked-up. But what? After half a moment’s consideration, it came to the bassist, a little too easily. “I dare you to let Shinya suck on your pregnant man-boobs.”
"Oka—wait, what?" Kyo wasn't expecting that one, somehow. That was kind of a weird dare. Shinya was his long-time friend, so that was kind of weird. He didn't want his friend all up on his tits... but it was a dare. "...Alright... I guess. Shinya, get over here."
The drummer was a little buzzed up with the power of getting one over on Die, but still a little bit pissed, and the prospect of sucking on Kyo’s fun-bags didn’t sound all that bad. He deposited his drink on the table and made his way over to the couch, where Kyo sat with that awkward expression and Kaoru stared uneasily, with his legs not positioned very lady-like, at all.
Wedging his skinny ass between Kaoru’s leg and Kyo’s, Shinya reached out and his lanky fingers hooked in the other’s… shirt and rolled it up. The drummer couldn’t exactly call it a shirt—it was a tube-top, he guessed. Even that was pushing it. It was probably more accurately an oversized, elastic head-band, snapped in place over Kyo’s he-boobs.
“Nice tits,” he remarked, reaching out and cupping one A-cup man-tit in his hand. Even having seen Kyo’s nipples hundreds of times before, leaning down and latching his mouth around that faintly squishy, yet still-muscular, pectoral region was too fucking weird…   And a bit tangy, he found, as his tongue swiped around. On the back-swing, he discovered that it was kind of sweet and realized with a mild sense of horror and arousal that he was sucking milk.
With a slight choke, Shinya ripped his face away and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. Meanwhile, there was still boob-milk on his tongue. “Kyo, what the fuck? Does that happen a lot? You could have warned me!”
Kyo scoffed and covered his man-tits up again. "Well, I mean you know I'm pregnant, and you know that tits make milk, with pregnant people. It's kind of common knowledge, isn't it?" Sheesh, people. Shinya of all people should have known. Not because he had been pregnant, but because he seemed the most sensible of the group, in some way. "Besides, I don't know what you're bitchin' about... you know you liked it," Kyo said, mumbling the last part. "Truth or dare, Shinya?"
“Actually,” Kaoru interjected and leaned forward slightly, sort of craning around the drummer, who was still wedged between Kyo and himself. “Can we do something else?” The guitarist was feeling slightly queasy—all the consumption of these various fluids, in close proximity to one another. He really preferred a little space between instances like that.
“Like what?” Die asked, enthused by the idea of avoiding more abuse to his ego. Quite frankly, he would have rather spent the evening with his head stuffed up Kyo’s shorts, smelling his pregnancy gas, than to keep on playing that damned game.
Toshiya bolted into an excessively erect position, grasping the arm of the couch tightly. “Holy shit, we gotta paint nails or some shit,” he declared, eyes wide as he stared over at the rest of the band, “Do some makeup or something—fuck yes.”
Idly, Shinya smacked his lips and the flavor of breast-milk was still in his mouth. “Yeah, I can handle that,” he remarked and stood up, grabbing up his abandoned can and taking another hearty gulp, swishing it around, and swallowing.
Ecstatic, the bassist leapt from the couch and went bounding down the hallway, straight to Shinya’s room. Had his ass not been so blatantly exposed and distracting, the drummer would have told him to get the fuck out of his room. But it was, so he didn’t.
And then, Toshiya came scrambling back with his makeup bag and a handful of nail-polish bottles, plunking all of it down on the floor, like some sort of retarded cat that had brought its owner a mangled squirrel. “Someone’s gonna let me paint their nails—who is it?”
Oh God, Toshiya was busting out the makeup. All of them were going to go home looking like drag-queen whores. Well, even more whore-looking than they already were, if this was possible.
Kyo would totally do some hair, if everyone's hair wasn't already done. "Ooooh, guuurl paint my nails,” he said, flinging his hand out all gay-like. Kyo was a little nervous to let Toshiya paint his nails. What if he went crazy with it and then there was nail-polish everywhere?
"Shinya..." Die said, looking towards his still probably pissed-off lover, "Make me look like a fairy."
As Toshiya flopped down next to the singer and began excitedly painting his nails, Shinya regarded Die’s request. He was half-tempted to jack the red-head’s grill up, but he was reminded of some of their kinky sex-games of yester-year. “Come here, you fairy-bitch,” he said as his long fingers snatched up his makeup bag and yanked the zipper down like it belonged to some cheap hooker’s mini-skirt, searching for a stick of eyeliner.
Die leaned closer and said a small prayer that he didn’t end up blinded by the other’s makeover. He stared up at the ceiling as Shinya started caking the eyeliner on, good and thick-like, by the feel of things, and he felt a bit of moisture welling up in his eyes, by the time the process was over. Blinking like the man that he was, he sucked it up and let Shinya go to work, slathering this fluorescent pink eye-shadow on his eyelids.
While Die was getting done up as a fairy, Kyo was beginning to regret getting his nails done. He hadn't really painted his nails for a while, so he hadn't been aware that the fumes would bother his pregnancy-sensitive nose. He was feeling kind of shitty. In more ways than one, even. Of course, the moment that his nails were getting all wet, his dump truck had to make a stop at the land fill. Or at least, he thought that's what was going on. It was that imminent pressure that only having to take a crap could bring.
Kyo didn't want to run off and go into the bathroom with wet nails, though. He could just see how that would go. Nail-polish everywhere; on his pants, the toilet paper, the sink, the shower, the mirror, the toilet, and then Shinya would kill him.
Awkwardly, Kaoru sat in the middle of all this make-over bull, not knowing what to do. Subtly, he lifted a not well-shaven leg and stared down at the obnoxiously purple polish on his toe-nails. Damn it, he just had to go that extra step, while waiting for Kyo to figure out that none of his whore clothes were really going to fit, so he was just going to have to deal with wearing a tube-top or nothing, at all.
For lack of better direction, the guitarist stood up and stepped around the coffee table, heading towards the bathroom. That beer was finally at the station and he had nothing better to do. He shut the door behind him and made his way to the toilet. Seat up, panties down, skirt in one hand and dick in the other.   As he took a piss, he contemplated how ambiguous he felt, at that moment, like a she-male porno-star. It was sort of nice, in a way.
Shaking his meat dry, Kaoru reached out and flushed Shinya’s toilet and then resituated himself, before heading back out to the living room. The stench of nail-polish assaulted his nose and he wondered why Kyo wasn’t passed out on the floor, foaming at the mouth, yet. For fuck’s sake, it seemed like Kaoru farted sometimes and Kyo reacted in a worse fashion than that, even.
“I’m putting in a movie, guys.” He was just too bored and sitting around, watching Die get a cum-shot made of glitter just wasn’t doing it for him. With that, he plunked himself down on the carpet, skirt bunched up around his hips, and started rummaging through Shinya’s movie collection.
There was the Dr. Doolittle series, of course; a little too close to those DVDs, a few porno flicks… Edward Penishands? What the fuck was Shinya doing, here? Oh, Deep Throat—that was a nice one. The Notebook; Titanic… Baby Mama? Was this how Shinya taught himself some English?
“Does anyone have any idea of what they want to watch?” Kaoru finally questioned, “There’s… porn. Comedy porn… Romantic sap-movies, romantic comedies… and boat porn.” That pretty much summed up the immediate portion of Shinya’s DVD collection, which was on display, at least.
Shoving the cap back on his eyeliner and stuffing it and a few makeup brushes back into the makeup bag, Shinya thought long and hard about shit. “I don’t care, you pick,” he finally concluded and took another drink, sizing up his handiwork on Die’s face. His eyelids were flamingly pink and he looked like some emo kid whore, with all that eyeliner. It was good. All the glitter made him very fairy-like… if the type of fairy he was going for was like a twink boy in gay porn.
Kyo's nausea and full colon were interrupted by Kaoru, who announced a time of movie watching. It was only brief though, unfortunately. Before long, he felt like vomming again and just resorting to ruining Shinya's bathroom with nail polish. He could wait though, damn it. He was strong. Hopefully his butt muscles were, too.
Die picked up a nearby mirror from the makeup case, looking at Shinya's handiwork. This wasn't exactly the kind of fairy he meant, but damn, he did look kind of good. All that glitter and shit. He could go out on the street corner right now and become a prostitute, and probably get millions of guys. However, he already made the mistake once about humping another man; he wasn't about to make it again.
With nobody really voicing an opinion, Kaoru just reached out and snatched up a movie, the first movie that his hands came in contact with. Titanic—boat porn, boobs all over the place. Sort of like when Kyo insisted on taking a bath and needed help getting his pregnant self in and out of the tub.
He popped the DVD case open and turned on the DVD player, after slapping that obnoxious stereo system off, and plopped the disk into the tray, and then grabbed up the remote.
Shinya stood up and made his way down the hall and to his bedroom, as the preview bull-shit started blaring over his surround-sound, and snatched the eight-hundred-and-some-odd pillows from his bed and a few blankets from his closet, then headed back to the living room. Promptly, he threw them on the carpet and strutted his fancy self over to turn the lights off, plunging the room into a TV-lit state of partial darkness.
Seeing the mess of pillows and blankets spontaneously thrown on the floor, Kyo made his way down to them, pregnant gut in the way. It reminded him of the old days when he used to have sleepovers with the girls and his gym teacher that one time, but he couldn't really remember that as well. He made sure to position his arms and hands awkwardly while moving, to prevent messing any of Shinya's stuff up and risking his life because of it.
It wasn't long before the DVD was put in, the menu was gone through, and the movie was starting. Kyo had heard this movie was supposed to be sad, or something. Whatever; he was a man. He wasn't going to cry.
Everyone had converged on the fucking blankets like the slut-puppies they were. Toshiya was all sprawled on his front; butt on display, on Shinya’s left side. The drummer was the skanky meat in a sandwich, sitting with Die on his right side. Kyo was sitting on the edge of one with his fat stomach chilling on his lap. Kaoru was wedged on his front, next to the singer, head propped up in one hand as some old woman looked really surprised over a picture of a naked woman or some boat shit.
A half hour into the movie, Die was already bored. Or rather, he was tempted. It was dark, no one could see, how could he not grope someone? Feeling like a sneaky bastard, Die's hand silently crept towards Shinya's ass, like a tiger, stalking a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't long before he was on his prey, biting it with his hand all crazy like. Yeah, he knew Shinya liked that.
Stiffening up, the drummer thinned his lips into a line and restrained something like a womanly yelp, as Die squeezed on his ass. Almost angrily, he cut his eyes to the side and stared over at the guitarist, instead of the movie.
Once, as he was drinking his morning coffee, Die had pulled the same shit and it resulted in Shinya nearly strangling to death and a giant mess of wasted java just spewed all over the counter. Then again, with the shock gone, it sort of felt nice. All that groping, squeezing—it was getting Shinya’s motor going a bit, so he wasn’t about to turn and deck Die in the face.
Toshiya was idly swinging his feet in the air, as he stared up at the TV. That ginger chick was obviously going to get freaky with that skanky, little guy—Toshiya knew that much and he was just waiting for it to happen. Probably would be a while, though, damn it.
In the meantime, he would entertain himself, a little. Propping on his left hand, the bassist’s right went creeping on over towards Shinya. Ohyeah, he could snatch up a handful of that sweet ass, until then. His fingers slunk along the side of the drummer’s skinny thigh and towards his panty-covered rear, and then skimmed across something that was decidedly not panty-fabric or ass in any way, shape, or form.
Oh, shit, mother-licker, it was a hand. That was Die’s hand. Toshiya was sure that he could feel up on Shinya, on the down-low, but if Die caught wind of it, shit would explode all over like it had that time when he had eaten the white bratwurst.
Rolling with things in an effort to save his ass, Toshiya ushered his fingertips along the back of the guitarist’s broad hand, attempting to make it flirtatious. Oh, yeah, this was totally intention—he had to make himself believe that, or he might end up licking his own jizz from somewhere, somehow.
What the fuck, what was Toshiya's deal? Was he trying to get him in trouble now? Was he turned on by that sick shit Shinya made him do? Did he want him to do it again? Hell naw, it wasn't happening. Die wasn't about to get in trouble again.
Somewhat stealthily, he tried to shake Toshiya's hand away from his own. Toshiya was hot; he'd do the man, whatever. Hell, the two of them could walk down the park together hand-in-hand, before they banged in the bushes, but he wasn't going to get on Shinya's shit-list.
"What's going on back there...?" Shinya asked, turning and craning around, looking behind him with a squint that suggested that it was a little bit too dark.
"He was trying to get me in trouble!" Die blurted, not really thinking before he spoke. He was just trying like all fucking hell to keep Shinya’s wrath off of him and unsavory fluids out of his mouth. God, not again.
"What...?" Toshiya asked, feeling generally confused by the outburst. He wasn’t trying to get anyone in trouble—all he had wanted was to get a nice feel of the drummer’s butt. It had been a long time since the last time that had happened. Like, a whole month or something.
"Well, what were you doing?" Shinya finally demanded, one eyebrow lifting incredulously over the amount of dicking around going on behind him.
"I…uh…" Shit, what was Toshiya going to say? He could lie and say he was trying to flirt with Die, and get Shinya mad at him. Or, he could tell the truth and say he was going for a piece of grade-A Shinya rump roast, and get Die angry at him.
"I know you're both going for my ass,” the drummer stated, turning and looking from Die and back to Toshiya.
"You were going for his ass?!" Die ejaculated loudly, nearly snapping his neck, as he stared in the bassist’s direction. Somehow, he felt wounded—as though the other had been genuinely trying to put the moves on him. No, no, he hadn’t. Nobody fucking loved Die.
"...Yeah," Toshiya admitted, now that the cat was out of the bag. Nobody was getting shanked, yet, at least.
"And you're just going to let him?" Die asked, directing the question towards his man-bitch, and or lover.
Die must have been crazy, or some shit. "I don't want to hear your shit. You know what you did,” the drummer scolded the guitarist like he was really lacking in intelligence, “Move your hand over, Die. There's enough Shinya for the both of you."
"Fine…" Die grumbled, a little bit sore that he had to share Shinya's ass, but he supposed he kind of had it coming. At least, it was Toshiya...
Kyo had been distracted for quite a while by the movie, and by the weird threesome going on over yonder, but his stomach seemed to be getting the better of him now. He was getting that crampy, pain like, ‘I have to poop’ feeling. Kyo was lazy though, in his pregnant years. He didn't want to drag his fat self off the floor and into the bathroom. Ugh, bodily functions just weren't fair.
Groaning, he hauled himself from the floor and made his way into the bathroom, like a dead man walking or something. Shutting the door, he started stripping down his tight, glistening, black, spandex shorts, in preparation to make a stop at toilet central.
After he'd taken a seat on the porcelain throne, he was beginning to wonder if he should do this at all. This wasn't his bathroom, and other people could come in after him. What if he left marks or it would smell bad? People would know it was him. He wouldn't be known as Kyo, that guy from Dir en grey anymore. He'd be known as Kyo, that guy who stunk up Shinya's bathroom because he was inconsiderate and crapped all up in his toilet.
It would probably be worse if he crapped on himself, though. This was like, his only pair of pants and they were really tight, so that would be really gross and messy. Then he'd be known as Kyo, that guy no one wanted to be around because he pooped on himself.
So began his battle for voiding; it was a long and difficult battle, with many tragedies and losses. Several farts were lost. They left loudly and Kyo really hoped no one could hear the casualties taking place in this god-forsaken battle ground, but they probably couldn't because the movie was on. That's what he kept telling himself.
In the end, Kyo hadn't really won anything. The other side, and or, his back side, had won in keeping him from going to the bathroom. He did go, but it was nothing. One, tiny little speck floating in the toilet, and all of that pain and pressure still lingering.
He had to give up. It just wasn't happening... If he couldn't crap now, he felt that he wouldn't crap himself later. Feeling defeated he began the age old ritual of butt-wiping. There was nothing there, most likely, but he had to do it anyway. Somewhere, there was one, tiny germ, lingering and waiting to cause all sorts of hell when it found the chance. That germ just needed to get the fuck out.
The next battle soon began; to get his shorts back on. This one, he did win. As he washed his hands, he contemplated how long he'd been in the bathroom. He wasn't sure how long, but it felt like a really long-ass time.
When Kyo left, he acted like nothing happened. Like he had not been in there, trying to give Shinya's toilet a present. As he sat down once again, he realized something. There were tits on the screen... He had been gone forever.
Distractedly, Kaoru glanced to the side and registered that Kyo was back from the bathroom. It was about time, because he had been in there for most of the movie, it seemed like. But right then, Kaoru was a little enamored—those were some pretty nice boobs, up there. Absently, he placed his hand on the blonde’s leg and rubbed it. Couldn’t have Kyo getting all mad because he was skeeving on some lady’s fun-bags. Then again, their drummer had recently had his grill all up on the singer’s man-tits, so, maybe he couldn’t afford to even be angry.
Distractedly, Kaoru glanced to the side and registered that Kyo was back from the bathroom. It was about time, because he had been in there for most of the movie, it seemed like. But right then, Kaoru was a little enamored―those were some pretty nice boobs, up there. Absently, he placed his hand on the blonde’s leg and rubbed it. Couldn’t have Kyo getting all mad because he was skeeving on some lady’s fun-bags. Then again, their drummer had recently had his grill all up on the singer’s man-tits, so, maybe he couldn’t afford to even be angry.

Meanwhile, back in Shinya's junk-yard, things were getting dirty. For a while, both Die and Toshiya had been sitting there, playing grab-ass with him, and that was nice. Then, the bassist was stealthily sliding a hand up his thigh, zeroing in on his goody-bag. Now, there was a movie on, even though there was some erotic art being made and all, the drummer considered whether it was appropriate for his B.F.F. to be fondling around his crotch. But Shinya was feelin’ kinda loose, already had a bit of a stiffy, so, fuck it– Toshiya could go ahead and get his cookies.
Adjusting his legs a bit, he let Toshiya just go at it for a moment. Fingers awkwardly scraping around on the front of his panties, fumbling around his tool. Getting a lay of the land, so to speak. It had been quite a while since the other had last felt on his pole like a stripper with poor depth perception.
Kyo appreciated the attention, but didn't really care that Kaoru was checking out some tits on the screen. Right now, he just felt a little irritated with other matters. His stomach hurt, and he knew damn well he had to take a shit, so he didn't know why his body was being such a cunt. Why couldn't he just go in there, do it, get it over with, and continue on with the night? What the hell was going on over yonder, though? Kyo was feeling a little distracted from the movie, watching the two other males fondle Shinya.
Not knowing what to do since Toshiya was in his spot, Die got desperate and stupid. There had been enough ass grabbing. Shinya's ass was an ass, not some dough that needed to be kneaded. He reached his hand up and took a hand full of... nothing, but he was damn determined to grab Shinya's invisible tits.

The drummer felt an eyebrow raising and then his brow furrowing in confusion, as Die groped around the front of his corset. There wasn't anything even filling those cups, but there went Die, bending the material in a direction it probably didn't need to go, and then spelunking further. But whatever.
Leaning back slightly and sticking his arms behind him, Shinya just went with it. He felt like a pimp, with the guitarist awkwardly fondling his nipple and the bassist polishing his balls. And if he recalled correctly, someone was going to get banged on that boat pretty soon. Sexy, sexiness all over. Shit, out of the corner of his eye, he even thought that he might have even seen Kaoru trying to get freaky with Kyo.
Kaoru smelled sex. It might have just been psychological, a reaction to all of the sexual activity in the vicinity. But he fucking smelled sex, he swore. It might have been a coupled thing of seeing two kids getting freaky in the back of a steamy car, and hearing the awkward rustling of Shinya getting a hand-job or some shit, to his left—but mother-fuck, the smell of ass was in the air.
His hand squeezed lightly at the blonde’s thigh, as he contemplated the complexity of the situation. It wasn’t ass, like when Kyo’s pregnancy gas was ripping rampantly, but ass like that sweet, musky funk that just seemed to materialize on the scene. Like it had, the night that he and Kyo had probably made a baby together. So much sweet ass smell, in the breeze of the fan, that night. Memories—memories, for days.
Feeling annoyed with the lack of tit he was grabbing, and the lack of reaction from Shinya, Die moved lower again, shoving Toshiya's hand over so he could get in on some of that action too. Yeah, he was all over them man-makers. With all this groping and grabbing, Die was getting a little hot in the pants again. If he was going to get Shinya's motor going, Shinya was going to get some action.
Not really caring how dumb he looked, or what Shinya thought, Die repositioned himself rather awkwardly so he could rub his crotch against Shinya's hip-leg-area. Shinya probably liked that shit. Leg humping and all. What, with his obsession with dogs and whatnot.
Sex was not going so well, on the other side of the room, though. Kyo was feeling mildly annoyed by Kaoru fucking with his leg. He probably wouldn't have minded if it was any other time, but this wasn't any other time. Trying to be polite and not explode with pregnancy rage, Kyo jerked his leg away slightly.
Kaoru frowned and finally just turned to look at the singer. What was his problem? All of this attitude, just out of nowhere. On the other end of the blanket, Die was humping Shinya’s torso or some shit and Toshiya was greasing the pole—and here was Kyo, just being a little douche.
Well, fuck that. With intent behind his motions, Kaoru slid to the left and slapped a hand on one of Die’s, skinny legs. Oh, oh… he was definitely not attracted to the other guitarist—touching his unshaven thigh was enough to let him know that, but he was still going to roll with it.
Toshiya’s head snapped up, from his task of groping around inside of Shinya’s man-panties, and he nodded at Kaoru, in greeting, eyes flicking to where the guitarist was half-heartedly groping at Die. He could get with this—he had always had this awkward urge to feel Kaoru’s chin-badger scraping on his skin and this seemed like they might be getting close.
Oh, oh, oh, that's how Kaoru was going to play it. He saw how it was. Kaoru was about to see how it was, that's for sure. Kyo was trying to be polite and nice, damn it. He could have turned around, slapped Kaoru in the face and told him to get the fuck off his leg, but he didn't.
Playing all nice and coy, Kyo scooted over and put his arms around the guitarist's waist, allowing one hand to drift downward until it reached Kaoru's manly bits. He sort of mirrored Toshiya there, for a minute, as he was all friendly with Kaoru's junk in the front, until he finally decided to assert his authority over him. He somewhat firmly gripped Kaoru's baby-maker area, just enough to let Kaoru knew just who owned that dick.
Ohlawdy, there was a breeze not-so-delicately ruffling the bearded guitarist’s skirt, and its name was Kyo. The breeze also had a wind-baby, bulging out and pressing on his back. The lump of pregnancy-air actually felt more like a rock, as opposed to something wispy and light. If Kyo were to take a swing at him with his gut, it could probably knock him out, Kaoru realized.
Either way, the brunette spread his legs a little further apart and felt sluttish. Ohyeah, Kyo could feel up on his junk just like he was rock climbing and needed to brace—that was good shit, man. Lifting his hand from Die’s leg, he plunked it down around his own crotch and snugged it over Kyo’s, because, oh, no—he couldn’t handle squeezing Die’s femur any longer.
Meanwhile, he had a very strong sense of déjà-vu, as he felt creepily-long Shinya fingers scraping his neck and slinking up into his hair. Back in the day, they had partaken in quite the intoxicated, gay orgies, in some way, form, or shape—sometimes, he had no recollection of just who had been getting on him.
He thought that Kyo was the first dick that had ever probed his mouth—and somewhere in that memory, he had another memory of that moment, where the drummer was yanking his hair up and helping Kyo to deep-throat him. Not that the singer really needed help to get his man-bits half-way down an esophagus. That was aside from the matter—he had blocked out Shinya being involved in that act.
What else had happened to him? He felt like a drunken sorority girl, but whatev’. As long as Die hadn’t ever stuck it to him, he could handle it anything else. Just like he could handle the nearly ball-busting grip of his boyfriend’s hand on his... balls. He pressed down with his palm and held out the hope that Kyo might remember that they might be able to manage to get freaky from the back.
“Yeah that’s what I thought…” Kyo said quietly, loosening his grip now and just running it over the guitarist’s groin. Grasping and groping; feelin’ and deain’.
Now that things had gotten going, sort of, Kyo was sort of getting into this. Aw yeah, he could work that pole. He was the best pole worker this side of Poland, if he lived in Poland or anywhere near it. His hand soon disappeared beneath Kaoru’s girly panties, getting’ all kind of pube-burn as he settled himself into a good spot, then resumed pole working.
A skanky moan rattled out of the guitarist as Kyo squeezed at his peen like it was some raw hamburger meat that he was trying to make into a definite shape. That thought was more arousing than it should have been and Kaoru felt his ground beef twitch faintly within the singer’s hold. If it kept up at this rate, they would be cookin’ and shit would get greasy.
Die was feeling a little claustrophobic with Kaoru so close on his ass and all of them wadded up in a lump, so he carefully extracted his scrawny ass from the mass and went tripping off towards Shinya’s room. Yeah, he knew where Shinya kept the weed and he was going to roll a blunt or fucking five, loosen up, and pass that shit around, because he wasn’t a rude douche. He was just going to pilfer Shinya’s panty drawer and liberate it. But nobody would care, because they would all be mellow and Die wouldn’t care if his ribcage was being shattered from being on the bottom of the big, gay man-pile.
While Die was gone, Toshiya wasted no time in being the big, love-starved ho that he was. He awkwardly plastered his mouth over Shinya’s and enthusiastically sucked at the drummer’s lips while he kept groping at his penis. Yeah, he was such a pimp. Shinya’s lady parts were probably so wet, right then.
The slobbering way that the bassist was making out with Shinya was nasty for Kaoru, who was so close and made the mistake of watching. All that tongue, all damp and… tongue-like, just shooting into Shinya’s mouth.
Instead, Kaoru turned his face away and focused on the feeling of Kyo beating his meat-wad. Yeah, that was some good shit. He took in a pleasured breath and became perplexed—on top of that skanky sex-like smell, there was the distinct scent of weed floating through the air. This was explained shortly, however, as Die came stumbling out in his heels, a joint in his possession and smoke streaming out of his face-holes, and then plunked down right in front of all of them.
Kyo saw the weed being brought out, and he felt a slight longing though. He was trying to curb his weed cravings for right now. It wasn’t that good to smoke with a baby on board. It probably wouldn’t matter that much though; it was developed, and all. No, no, he wasn’t going to. Not right now, anyway.
He tried to distract himself by massaging the man sausage, but something else soon began to distract him from that. It was that crampy, pressure feeling again, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
“Man…” Kyo said, backing away from the guitarist, “I gotta take a shit.” That was the only thing he said, before getting up and heading for the bathroom again.
Kaoru’s noise of protest was ignored by Kyo, who scuttled away as quickly as his fat-wad would allow, and the guitarist was left sitting there with his dick holding the front of his skirt, like it was expecting rain.
“Here, have a hit,” Die remarked, and passed the joint to Kaoru, who was definitely the only other unoccupied person. There was some jealousy there, seeing Shinya just letting Toshiya all up on him—but he wasn’t going to get mad. He was just going to let it happen, because he was going to get nice and mellow, soon, and he didn’t want that getting wrecked.
Kaoru took a drag and let all that sweet, sweet, marijuana smoke fill up in his airway for a good moment, before he let it go. Didn’t need to be ghosting that shit, naw, he would just pollute the air in the living room. Shinya usually got good shit and the guitarist didn’t think this would be much of an exception. The guitarist reached out and gave the drummer a hesitant tap on the shoulder, interrupting his heavy petting with Toshiya, to offer him the joint. It was promptly taken and shoved between the bassist’s lips, held in place while he sucked in a hit.
It wasn’t long before Kyo was back in the same ol’ spot. He was king of the throne; the porcelain throne, because he seemed to be spending all his time there, lately. It was the same as last time; nothing. Kyo couldn’t understand how he had such an urge to deploy the troupes, yet it seemed like the government of Assnia wouldn’t allow them to go, because there was no toilet war.
That whole thought didn’t make much sense, but at the moment, Kyo didn’t care. All he wanted to do was poop; that shouldn’t be such a horrible request. He wasn’t asking for world domination or millions of dollars, he was just asking for an empty bowel.
Several minutes went by, or hours; Kyo wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure it was minutes, but it felt like hours. Hours of boredom and rage. Fuck it; he couldn’t do this… not right now. Defeated, he hauled his pants back up and headed back into the living room and heavily lowered his ass back onto the floor. “Alright, one of you fuckers better give me a hit off that joint.”
Kaoru hadn’t expected Kyo to be in the bathroom for so long, but after over half an hour of his absence and everyone else smoking weed, the guitarist had sort of forgotten to expect him to return. He had just taken a drag and he expelled it, sending that nice, fragrant smoke billowing up around his head.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” the brunette questioned, a little skeptically. Well, shit. Weed wasn’t like, nicotine… It was all natural and it just made you feel so good. Kyo was all… fat and sore from being pregnant—it might be kind of wrong to deny him a little something-something to take the edge off his man-baby woes. But… the baby— little Kazuki or Raiden or whatever— would he appreciate his placenta becoming bong-by-proxy?
“Of course it's a good idea," Kyo said, awaiting that joint passing. "It's not fair that you guys get to have all the fun and I have to stay miserable.” This sob-story mini-speech seemed to tug at Kaoru's heart-strings, so he reluctantly passed him the joint. Aww yeah, it was that time. That time of getting high as a kite, or some shit.
Kyo took a nice, longish drag from that shit, wanting to absorb highness energy as possible, without smoking the whole thing. The smoke soon came pouring out of his mouth like he was some kind of pissed off dragon. In a way, he was; he couldn't take a crap, and that sucked. If someone rubbed him the wrong way he could probably take on the fury of a dragon.

A little while passed, and Kyo felt kind of chill. That was all ruined by the return of the affliction that had been plaguing him all night. God damn it. Groaning with rage and despair, Kyo made his way back to the bathroom again. This shit was gonna happen, damn it. He didn't care if he lost a foot of intestines trying to do it, it was going to happen.
Once Kyo was good and gone, Toshiya reached across Shinya and gave a bitchly swat at Kaoru. “Man, I can’t believe you let him smoke that. He finished it,” the bassist said, like he hadn’t sucked down his fair share of the joint.
“Dude, what does it matter?” Kaoru questioned, gesticulating meaninglessly with his left hand flipping around in a circle. “He’s pregnant and I think he has diarrhea or some shit—his life sucks—he needed that weed, probably.” Poor Kyo… in the bathroom, stuck on the toilet. Pooping so much. At least, with a few good hits in his system, he could just go with the flow. Metaphorically speaking.
Although unaware of the conversation taking place in the other room, Kyo surely was not pooping so much. He wished he was pooping so much, but he wasn't. This was going to drive him crazy.
There he was again, toilet bound. He vaguely wondered if he would stuff up Shinya's toilet, if he did end up going... That wouldn't be good. Shinya would be so mad. It was now or never, damn it. He took things slow, like a romantic date; didn't want to skip straight to possibly unnecessary sex. He tried to relax, hoping everything would just fall out on its own. It didn't. It went from relaxing, to red-in-the-face-popping-a-blood-vessel-straining. It still didn't fucking work.
It was obvious that this was no ordinary foe. Perhaps, he would have to take extraordinary measures to win this battle. He came up with a plan, and he hoped to god it didn't backfire on him.
Feeling nervous, and stupid, he stood from the toilet. It seemed that sitting alone was not enough gravity in this situation. He was going to attempt to at least get things moving while standing up, before sitting back down. If this went wrong, Shinya was gonna be so pissed.
Kyo kind of just stood there for a minute, contemplating life and whatnot. Alright, he could do this. This was gonna go so well and nothing was going to go wrong. Letting go of all of his fears of crapping on the floor, the blonde pushed slightly. Nothing yet, but he couldn't quite give up. He took in a breath and strained a bit more, and then things got weird.
There was a sudden hot liquid, everywhere and totally all over Shinya's floor. Kyo let out some kind of loud noise of surprise and fear. Oh God, Shinya was gonna be so mad. He just totally fucked up Shinya's floor. Shinya was gonna beat his ass. He stood there for a moment, confused. His pants were around his ankles, and he was wet and confused. Fuck.
The sound of Kyo, yelping like someone had slapped him on the sac, penetrated Kaoru’s feel-good high. By this point, Titanic had been even more forgotten than before they started smoking. Die, Shinya, and Toshiya were lying in a half-dressed tangle—all of them touching genitals that belonged to someone else, in their haze. Of course, they didn’t notice Kyo’s yelling and didn’t bother to stop mutually masturbating each other, so Kaoru awkwardly worked himself to his high-heeled feet and headed down the hall, to Shinya’s bathroom.
“Kyo,” the guitarist said, lightly tapping on the door, head swimming a bit from his weed-smoking and a small head-rush. “Kyo, are you okay in there? Do you need some anti-diarrheal medicine or something? I’m sure Shinya has some, somewhere.”
"I'm fine... I…" Kyo said, ending abruptly. Despite the fact that what was most likely all over Shinya's floor seemed to be some kind of nasty uterine fluids, he was more concerned about getting a major ass whooping by the drummer. "Oh man, Shinya's gonna be so mad. I totally fucked up his floor."
This probably wouldn't have seemed that fucked up, to Kyo, if it was anyone other than Shinya. Shinya kept his house so damn neat and clean, he was sure he'd be pissed off if anything went wrong, clean wise.
“Oh God, did you get shit all over, again?” Kaoru had been privy to more than one incident where Kyo had just up and taken a messy shit on the floor. One time, the singer had just had one of his rare, sloppy-drunk nights. The others had involved various stomach-bugs and things of that nature. “We’ll clean it up, before he notices—he’s having sex in the living room.”
"No I didn't shit on the floor, God!" Kyo said, offended that Kaoru would think he just randomly pooped on random floors, for no good reason. "Get in here and help me so he doesn't bust my ass!" Kyo's priorities were rather off, that night. Perhaps it had to do with the weed; perhaps it had to do with his pregnant brain. He didn't know.
Kyo managed to work his way out of his pants, feeling uncomfortable with the wet bunch of cloth around his ankles. As he was doing so, there was another crampy feeling in his stomach. Great; this could have been avoided, if Kyo had realized he hadn't actually had to take a shit. This crampy feeling was worse than usual though. Oh, it didn't feel very good. Not at all.
Awkwardly, Kaoru opened the door and watched, like a lump of plain stupidity, while Kyo shuffled out of his shorts. It was like some sort of damp, fat train-wreck was right in front of him, crouched over Shinya’s toilet. “What the fuck is going on, Kyo?” Logically, it made sense—the singer’s back-end had just blown out, in anticipation of imminent baby. But Kaoru was way too chill to have his mellow harshed like that—it was not the time or place for a baby.
“I fucked up Shinya’s floor, that’s what the fuck is going on,” Kyo huffed, side stepping away from the puddle that had formed in front of the toilet. “And I’m pretty sure I’m having a baby.”
For some reason, Kaoru was ninety-nine percent sure that the statement that Kyo had just uttered should have sent him into spiraling terror, but it didn’t. Okay, cool shit and all that bull-honky—his lover was in labor with their child. That was alright.
“Okay, so, what do you want to do about it?” he questioned, taking a step closer to Kyo and placing a small, tattooed hand on the other’s shoulder. It was all cool and shit. They could get to the hospital in time—shit, they probably had time to take a few more hits off the weed, and then they could still get to the hospital.
Kyo stood there for a moment, thinking. He assumed Kaoru was talking about birthing arrangements. To be honest, he didn’t really want to go to the hospital. All of those people staring at his ass and whatnot; that did not sit well with him. He’d be fine. It was just birth. He could do it on his own. People did it on their own before, and he sure could do it. However, Kyo didn’t think it was such a good idea to leave Shinya’s house, because he would rather not birth in the car or on the subway. Subways were so nasty.
Without answering, Kyo handed Kaoru a towel, and wrapped one around himself. “Please, soak that up or something. I can’t bend down to do it.”
Leaving Kaoru behind in the bathroom, Kyo headed out into the living room. He was going to talk to Shinya about this shit. Kyo was probably going to make a mess, but Shinya liked babies… right?
“Shinya…” Kyo said, hating to interrupt the scary looking orgy going down in the middle of the floor. “I know you’re busy and all, and I kinda fucked up your bathroom, but can I give birth in your living room?”
Snapping his head around with enough force to cause whiplash, Shinya stared at Kyo. What the fuck had happened in his bathroom? His erection perceptibly softened at the thought of Kyo’s poop, exploded all over and splattered on all visible things in there.
“Excuse me—you mean to tell me that you have wrecked my bathroom and now you want to drop your ass-fruit on my floor?” the drummer said, all long and drawn-out.
He slapped Toshiya’s ever-groping hand away from his testicles and shoved Die away from his dick. “Bitches, do you not see that I am busy with an issue?” he snapped, neck-weaving in Die’s direction and duck-facing hard, until the other two men backed their asses off and gave him some space.
“I never said your floor,” Kyo corrected, feeling slightly scared of Shinya’s current mood. “It’s not that bad it’s just… well, Kaoru’s cleaning it up right now. I mean, it’s not like I did it on purpose. And it’s just the floor. Only the floor. Kaoru should have it soaked up pretty soon.”
“You should have put your ass in the tub,” Shinya said with a huff, before he started wadding up the blankets that lay upon the floor, arranging them into a semi-soft square for Kyo. A little bitchily, he snapped his long fingers and pointed at the quilt-heap. “Well? Get on it.” It probably wasn’t the first time Kyo had heard that.
“Thanks…” Kyo mumbled, easing himself onto the makeshift birthing spot. “I’ll remember that next time,” Kyo said, sounding like a bit of a smart-ass. Kyo tried to relax, trying to forget that he was giving birth, and that he wasn’t sitting around pantslesss, oozing small amounts of fluids from his ass every so often. There was no damn relaxation though. Not with laboring. This was some bull.
He cupped his belly as it began to tense again, sending pain radiating through his… everything. He emitted a noise similar to that of a dying cat as the contraction peaked, and was left panting softly as it subsided.
He could do this, and he was going to do this here. No way was he leaving. He was strong; he was woman. He was going to birth the fuck out of this baby, and he was going to do it just fine.
Within the bathroom, Kaoru could hear Shinya getting all intense and Kyo yelping, so the guitarist hoped that the drummer wasn’t putting the smack-down on him. Awkwardly, the guitarist finished wringing out the damp washcloths he had just rinsed free of Kyo’s amniotic drippings and proceeded to deposit them into Shinya’s bathroom hamper. When he finished with that, he snagged a fresh one from the rack and dampened that one, sizzling with guilt over messing up so many of Shinya’s things, reeling with what the repercussions could be.
Tottering out in his heels, the older man made his way back out to the living room, where Kyo was sort of lying there like a used condom, with a giant air pocket in the middle of it, on top of the blankets they had been all fornicating upon. “Uh, here,” he muttered, as he plunked down inelegantly beside the singer. He battled with handing the rag to him or what, before deciding to be a good birth-partner-guy-thing, and pressed it against the other’s forehead.
The next few minutes were kind of... uneventful, in a way that labor could be uneventful. Kyo was beginning to see the pattern in this. His baby machine stayed at a reasonable speed and force, not all too concerned with production.
But sometimes his crazy baby machine manager would kick in and kick the machine up a notch. A painful, painful notch. His baby machine’s manager needed to get that baby out of the factory pronto.
Kyo’s baby machine could calm the fuck down, because he wasn’t liking this. He was the boss of this shit; his organs needed to get the fuck in line. And he was starting to get pretty annoyed. He was hot, in pain, and just plain… irritable. No one had better fucking even look at him funny.
Suddenly, the crazy manager returned and just fucked everything up. He was feeling sort of... okay, and then bam, contractions everywhere. It hit him in the stomach like a ton of bricks; baby-filled bricks, whose babies were also full of bricks.
He let out the yelp of an angry cat, surprised by this sudden… intrusion of rudeness from his organs. His noises soon progressed to what sounded like a sort of hum or growl, until his pain progressed. Suddenly, he was angry. Angry at everything; the world, the carpet, his mangina, and especially, Kaoru.
“Fffuckkk…” Kyo ground out, wanting to choke a bitch. “You!” he said, ending his earlier ‘fuck’, as he gave Kaoru a slug to... whatever the hell was closest to him. Kyo had on his rage goggles, and he was gonna make this shit known.
A huff of surprise and a bit of pain issued from Kaoru as Kyo’s probably-sweaty, wadded up fist struck him on the hairy thigh. “I’m doin’ the best that I can here, Kyo,” he defended, guiltily sponging at the side of the other’s neck, “Maybe, you need to go to the hospital, instead.”
Honestly, a hospital might be a little better than Shinya’s living room’s floor. Nurses and a doctor, as opposed to Die and Toshiya, still half-way screwing, just on the couch, shot-gunning hits of a joint together.
“It’s your fault!” Kyo shouted, feeling temporary relief from the pain at the moment, but still feeling pissed off. “You and that… dick of yours! And I’m not going anywhere! No way are some… strangers going to look at my parts. It’s not happening! Plus, I fucking hate hospitals.”
Kyo huffed angrily, hushing momentarily before his abdominal muscles clenched in a fit of a thousand raging babies. “Ohh, I am so mad at you right now…”
“Oh, Kyo,” Kaoru groaned despairingly, daring a touch to the other’s arm, “They’ve already seen your parts.” The prenatal visits had been unpleasant, but here Kyo was, acting like it had never happened before. More than one doctor had gone a-fondling around the blonde’s man-hole, much to Kaoru’s displeasure. Getting all up around there, getting on his turf—yeah, it had happened.
“I don’t care,” Kyo said with a huff, finally coming down from the pain once again. “I’m fine... just fucking fine. I don’t want to leave… We probably wouldn’t get there in time, anyway.”   Kyo was sort of lying to himself. This shit kind of hurt. He knew it hurt, but not like this. What the hell did women know?
Up until this point, Shinya had been seated in the armchair, just sort of trying to come to terms with the fact that his house was about to get really messy, and probably kind of funny smelling, but shit was getting real, really fast. His skinny legs uncrossed themselves and he stood on them, crossing over to where Die was tangled up in various parts of Toshiya. “Give me that,” he snapped, cinching his fingers around the joint that the red-head was mid-drag on, and yanked it away, ignoring his coughing protests.
He moved on over to Kyo and crouched down beside him, opposite of Kaoru, then stuck the joint in his face. “Here,” he said, touching it to Kyo’s lip, “Suck on this for a second.”
Aw yeah, here was the shit, right here. Why didn’t Kyo think of this?
Kyo was not at all hesitant, but was pretty lazy about it. He let Shinya hold it, while he sucked in the sweet marijuana like smoke. It was far less than a puff, and more of a, ‘I’m going to smoke this whole joint in one hit’. When he was finally done, a coughing fit ensued, spewing excess smoke everywhere. It looked like a house fire up in this bitch.

The effects didn’t take long to set in, and Kyo was feelin’ kind of good. He let out a pleased moan, as he stretched momentarily. “Yeahhhh…” he finished.
If Kaoru wasn’t already a little buzzed and scared of watching Kyo give birth sober, he probably would have protested a little. Oh God, he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, though. But the smell of Kyo’s freshly-exhaled weed-smoke wafted around and… that shit was nice. “Shit, give me a hit of that,” the guitarist groaned in resignation, momentarily clapping a hand over his face.
Shinya rolled his eyes and reached over Kyo’s pregnant body, shoving the joint between Kaoru’s lips. “You better not finish this,” the drummer warned with a frown, as the guitarist took a drag. “You get this one, so you don’t tweak out in the middle, but the rest is Kyo’s,” he said, yanking it back and stuffing it back into Kyo, for him to finish. Mama Shinya was going to take good care of him, mhm.
Kyo sucked down the rest of the joint, wondering if perhaps this was too much, but less than a millisecond later, he didn’t give a shit. He was going to be soooo high, and things were going to be sooo good.   When finished, Kyo sort of just laid there, in a comatose state. He wasn’t sure what was happening, right now. Were there still contractions? Because if there were, he didn’t give a shit.
“How do you feel?” Kaoru questioned, looking down at the other’s slightly muzzy face. His tiny, tattooed hand reached out and patted the blonde’s cheek. “You really think we can do this here?” he questioned with a skeptical squint.
“Huh?” Kyo said, not really catching things at first. “Oh… yeah. I’m cool as fuck right now.”
Apparently, he was still contracting, because he felt the next one coming up, like a fucking dick. He was cool as fuck, now he was mildly annoyed. It hurt, but he was far too high to do anything about it but lay there wincing like a derp.
Moments passed, contractions came and went, and nothing much seemed to be happening. A fairly strong one came on though, causing him to squeak in pain and surprise. In addition to this, the pressure in his lower half began to increase tenfold, and the feeling of a suspicious liquid began to trickle down all up on his crack. “Which of you fuckers peed on me?” Kyo questioned, breathing hard. He flopped his head to the side and glared at Kaoru. “I'm in labor… you don't do that. Why would you pee on me?”
“Baby,” Kaoru said, tentatively grasping the singer’s hand, “Nobody’s peeing on you. Maybe, you’re having a bad trip—”
“Oh, hell no,” Shinya interrupted and leaned over the singer, staring into his face. “Kyo, look at me—Kyo,” the drummer waved in front of his face and snapped his fingers, “Are you leaking from the ass?”
“What?” Kyo said, feeling confused at first. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, anymore… Where was he, even? Oh right, Shinya’s house. “Um… I don’t know. Maybe…”
With a sigh, Shinya leaned back and shook his head. “Okay, no—this is not happening on my carpet, nuh-uh.” The drummer stood up and looked down at Kaoru, who better not have been staring up under his skirt. “We’re putting him in the bathtub. That much can be scrubbed out—this shit will be hell on my rug.” Shinya started tromping off in the direction of the bathroom, shaking his head at the ridiculousness happening right then. Couldn’t even have a party without someone dying or giving birth in his house, for Christ’s sake.
Ugh, things were getting so complicated. Why couldn’t he just enjoy himself, and smoke some weed?
“Give me a minute.” Kyo huffed, laying there for a few moments. Alright, he had to get up.
Groaning, Kyo stood, feeling as though he was lifting about 500 pounds as he did so. Grumbling in displeasure, he headed off to the bathroom. Damn it, Shinya, why? Why did he just have to screw everything? Typical Shinya… Always ruining the fun.   Once in the bathroom, he sat down in the closest available area; the toilet, and waited for things to get started.
Shinya made a sort of ‘hmph’ of a sound as Kyo’s shuffled in and sat on the closed toilet. Probably was leaving butt gunk all over the place.   “I didn’t think you’d be able to get your ass in here,” he said, adjusting the taps on the tub and flipping the lever that stopped up the drain.
After taking a moment to hastily fold the blankets that Kyo had been lying on, Kaoru tripped off in the direction of the bathroom. A little stealthily, he pushed through the door and spotted Kyo who had peeled off his weird tube-top thing and was sitting on the toilet with his hands on his knees, and Shinya, standing by the bathtub, tapping his foot impatiently upon the tile.
“Come here,” Kaoru said, extending his hand to Kyo. Jesus, take the wheel—he hoped that he was steady enough to not help the singer into the tub, face-first. Things were a little bit woozy and, lawdymae, that bathroom was getting nice and steamy.
Taking Kaoru’s hand, Kyo moved himself into the bathtub as carefully as he could. Easing himself down was difficult, with all the fat on his front. He was slumped forward slightly, not yet ready to find a different position. But aw yeah, that was the shit. This bath was nice and warm, and coupled with his highness; shit was getting better by the second. Groaning in relief and pleasure, he fully enjoyed the moment for the time being.
“So, what now?” Kaoru questioned, standing awkwardly. He looked from Kyo, sitting in the tub, and back to Shinya, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “What do we do? Do I need a net or something?” Kaoru just realized that he was terribly unqualified to help deliver a baby. It was a good time to figure that out, he guessed, before he found himself groping around wrist-deep in Kyo’s anus, with no clue what he was going for.
“You, I have no idea about,” Shinya remarked with a shrug of the shoulder, “As for me, I’ve got a hankering for a grilled cheese.” He grabbed a couple of towels from the rack and shoved them into Kaoru’s arms. “Also, there’s a net under my bed,” he added, before slipping around the door and out of the room.
Soon, Kyo was alone with Kaoru, and there was a sort of awkward silence for a moment. Kyo was feeling kind of sleepy, at the moment, really. He kind of just wanted to go to sleep right there. Other than the fact that he would drown, he was still feeling discomfort though.
There was the feeling of the most overwhelming need to crap Kyo had ever had, be it crap or not, it was still uncomfortable. “Come here…” Kyo said, beckoning Kaoru closer, pointing into the water. They could not have a loving birth experience with Kaoru half way across the world, or with Kaoru… dry, for that matter.
“Uhh…” Kaoru uttered for a second, before reaching down and working his feet out of his heels and tossing them somewhere by the sink. Awkwardly, he shimmied out of his skirt and opted to keep his man-panties and weird man-bra on, before scooching his way into the tub. He slid down behind Kyo, groin to in-the-throes-of-labor ass and slipped his arms around the other’s tense stomach, rubbing it a bit awkwardly. He said a little prayer that it wouldn’t bite him or something.
Kyo found it fairly comforting to have someone else in the tub with him. He was afraid that no one would be able to fit with him, though he had thought of suggesting it.
“Your underwear is getting all wet,” Kyo stated. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against Kaoru and trying to make the best of the situation. The singer was honestly enjoying the way he rubbed on him. It was soothing…. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against Kaoru and trying to make the best of the situation.
He felt very, very relaxed at the moment. Then, suddenly, he was taken over by pain.   An almost abrupt, strong pain that definitely got his attention. Being that he was in a calmer state now, he did not feel the urge to kill Kaoru; he merely gave out a hurt groan, squinting his eyes shut and riding through the pain.
Kyo found that there was no peak to this contraction, though. It started painful, and then just ended. Something seemed off about that. Kyo was wondering, perhaps, if he had slept or something without him realizing it, and slept through the worst part of it. Or had he slept longer than he thought?
At the rate things were going, Kaoru was ninety-nine percent sure that they could have made it to the hospital. Kyo had snored for at least ten minutes as the guitarist had rubbed his distended belly and the water grew progressively cooler. He was awake now and having another contraction, judging by his noise-making and the way that his gut clenched up beneath the older man’s palms.
This shit wasn’t going to cut it, though. They were already going to be pruny, but the cold part was avoidable. Stretching out his leg as far as humanly possible, he attempted to reach either the hot water tap or the drain switch with his foot—either would do, but neither was within his grasp. Son of a bitch, well, whatever.
“How are you holding up?” Kaoru dared to ask, pressing his cheek to the side of Kyo’s head, enjoying the faint noise of his goatee scraping against the other’s blonde hair. Similar to the sound of it scraping on Kyo’s thighs, that one night. More memories. They hadn’t made a baby that night, though.
“Better than expected,” he responded, bending forward to fix the water temperature for himself. It was a tad on the chilly side, and Kyo enjoyed the hot water more than this… tepid crap.
Once the water was warmer, Kyo eased himself back into the position, contracting as he went along. When he was back securely against Kaoru, he felt an overwhelming and uncontrollable urge to push, and without his consent, every one of his muscles, even ones he didn’t know he had, squeezed and forced things downward. His eyes once again closed, squinting slightly as he groaned along with it.
In addition to the pain of a contraction, another pain was soon added to the mix. There was a sudden and very uncomfortable, painful feeling in his butt area.
He let out a surprised yelp of sorts, followed by, “My butt!” His gaze soon landed between his legs and he saw the water beginning to grow murky with tinges of red. “Oh God, I’m dying!”
Kaoru craned forward and saw the pink tint in the water around Kyo. Frankly, he got a little bit scared, but he wasn’t about to tell that little secret. “No, no—you’re just going to have the baby,” he spat out. “What exactly does it feel like?” Because that would totally help Kaoru to help Kyo through this—he had babies every week.
“It… hurts.” Kyo said, finding that the only thing to describe what it felt like. “Like I have to take the biggest crap in the world…” There, that was more description. He pulled his legs apart slightly, feeling uncomfortable, for some reason, with them as they were now. It was almost on instinct; the feeling in his ass causing him to move his legs.
From in the kitchen, Shinya heard a little bit of commotion in the form of Kyo making noise, so he figured that things were getting going a little. A half-eaten grilled cheese in hand, he migrated to the bathroom and made a quick assessment of the situation.
A portion of Kaoru’s already minimal clothing was strewn on his nice, clean floor, he saw. “Is there a baby in the tub?” he questioned, taking a bite of his sandwich. If there was, he was a little worried over the thought of having to instruct the two of them to pull him out of the water. It was a baby, after all, not a fish.
“No,” Kaoru replied, “but he says he feels like he needs to poop. Like, a really big shit.” The guitarist lifted his hands a little helplessly. Kyo had been saying that he needed to crap for hours, now. It wasn’t really much of a deciding factor, he felt. “He is bleeding, though.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shinya remarked around his final mouthful of bread and melted cheese. “Yeah, that’s a baby, right there; a really, really big shit. He’s not far off, now.” Dusting his hands off, the drummer thought about what to do, for a second. “One of you in there—quit fucking long enough to bring a damn cup of ice in here,” he shouted down the hallway, for a starter.
“Okay, now, Kyo. I have a damn good shower-mat in there, so you’re going to pop a squat on that for a minute, okay? Sitting on the baby won’t help him; gravity gives him no choice in the matter,” he elaborated, pausing to point at the guitarist, next. “You make sure that he doesn’t bust his ass and if the baby happens to pop out, catch that. Don’t let him smash his head into the tub—that’s bad.”
Kyo wasn’t sure, but he thought shit was going down, finally. Shit had been going down for the past several minutes, or hours, or whatever it was, but every new advancement was ‘shit about to go down’ for him.
Kyo hauled himself upward slightly, getting into a crouching position, working his huge ass around so that he faced Kaoru. One hand on Shinya’s shower bar, the other hand on the side of the tub. Good bracing.
It was no longer than a second before it was like his body took that as a signal, and the contractions came again. A whine escaped him, and he felt the urge to push once again. Groaning and squeaking, he did so, feeling things starting to move down below, and he didn’t really care for this feeling.
Kyo had a feeling, though, that when this was over he was going to be very satisfied and relieved. No, not because he’d just given birth, but it’d be like that feeling of finally taking that big crap after hours and hours of work. He was going to feel so relieved…
He pushed as long as the contraction’s duration, making some scary, unworldly sounds as he did so. Someone was going to call Ghost Busters on their ass or something.
Bleary-eyed and highly baked, Toshiya came tripping into the bathroom with a glass of crushed ice. “Has he had the baby yet?” he asked, leaning on Shinya a bit. Kyo gave a startling screech that made the bassist spill a few fragments of ice—he guessed not, then.
“No,” Shinya scoffed and took the cup from Toshiya. “You better be able to tell the difference in about seven months,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes. His lanky fingers plucked out a chunk of ice and he crouched in front of Kyo, offering it to the smaller male.
Kyo took the frozen morsel into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. It soothed him somewhat, but it also made him realize he was kind of thirsty… He was also feeling very tired; God, he was ready to get this thing out. Things had gone on long enough, on Kyo’s part.
When the next contraction came along, he regretted it. He made a sound akin to a xenomorph before cursing, in all his pain and discomfort. The pain of a thousand burning suns suddenly popped up in his anus, like a dick. Well, not like a dick; it was far bigger than a dick and much less pleasant.
Kaoru felt just a little bit awkward there, crouching on his knees in Shinya’s bathtub, wearing a pair of panties and a tiny bra. When their son was born, the first thing he would see would probably be… one of his daddies, wearing women’s lingerie. But he was probably going to be stoned out of his cone-shaped little head, also. So, it would probably look more like some sort of weird-ass sea-nymph with a glandular hair-growth issue—in essence, a hairy sea-beast. Suddenly, it all clicked for the guitarist about why he was a little hydrophobic.
He stared up with a bit of fear as Kyo shouted again, arms shaking a little bit as he grabbed onto the shower bar, and Shinya shoved another couple of ice pieces into his mouth. He crunched angrily and gave another inhuman noise, pushing and squeezing out a fart that sounded a bit comparable—scary as fuck, in other words. The guitarist’s hand went to the other’s hip and steadied him, while he nodded nonsensically. “You’re doing good, Kyo,” he encouraged, “You give birth so good.” That made no sense, even to Kaoru, but damn it, he was going to be a good baby-daddy.
“Shut up…” Kyo said, sounding tired. He didn’t want anyone to really talk to him, right now. Besides, Kaoru was lying anyway. There was nothing good about this shit.
The time passed, and it passed slowly. Kyo wasn’t sure how long this had gone on, but it had certainly gone on long enough. It seemed, after a while of pushing, things had slowed down and he was getting more and more irritated, and in pain. His high had seemed to be pretty much effectively kicked by this point; probably the worst point possible.
The singer felt as though he was beginning to weaken considerably. Fuck, he was too tired for this shit. Just when all that he wanted to do was lie down and take a nap, there was the sound of Shinya’s high heels and someone else—obviously Die, because Toshiya was sitting on the damned toilet seat like a do-nothing-dick-face, lookin’ all scared—clattering on the tile. “Get in there, Die,” Shinya hissed, somewhere behind the singer. Then, someone was plunking their feet into the water and shoving their arms underneath Kyo’s.
As much as Kyo disliked all of this touching on his vulnerable, naked self—his tired ass really, really liked the fact that Die was there, hoisting him up. He didn’t like the sense that his head was probably scrubbing on the guitarist’s sac or something, but he would let that slide, because Jesus H., he was so fucking tired and hurt.
While he was busy recouping a little lost energy for all of two seconds, he felt the pressure building in his lower half again, and strained along with it, letting his head hang forward. It was like a fucking cantaloupe was in his colon or some shit. With an inhuman groan, he bore down again and the cantaloupe suddenly felt like a watermelon in his rectum, and then his groan became a shriek.
“I fucking hate you!” Kyo hissed, snapping his head up and glaring at Kaoru. He was the cause of all of this. He was lucky that the blonde wasn’t drowning him in the water that his anus had just bled in. His ass was probably bleeding so much more, right around then, because there was a load up in there, just waiting to come out.
Kaoru was scared; lulled into a sense of false security, for a moment. “That’s good,” he agreed and teared up a little, rubbing the other’s leg, while Shinya reached over and moved the other’s blonde hair out of his face and then dabbed at his neck with a damp rag.   “Hate me until it pops right out of you,” he croaked. Oh God, words hurt. He was in love with Kyo, damn it.
They were going to get married or some shit. What if they had their honeymoon and Kyo waited until the guitarist was asleep and hovered over him, whispering about how he wanted to twist his dick off and choke him with it? That wasn’t the kind of life Kaoru wanted. Always wondering if Kyo secretly wanted to rip his man-pole off.
“Put your fucking hands under my ass, you bitch, and I will!” he shouted at the other. Didn’t he fucking understand what was going on? God—there was going to be some baby there in T-minus some fucking seconds or some shit, and he wasn’t going to enjoy being pooped out and smashing his head flat.
Kaoru hurriedly yanked his hand from the other’s hip and cupped them underneath the singer’s butt. Ohlord, he hoped that there was a baby on the way and not a false alarm. He wasn’t even sure if he could handle holding his son’s bloody, nasty scalp, but he was really sure that he couldn’t hold some poop.
Kyo knew the end of all this shit was near, but he still felt as though he needed some motivation. He needed something… some kind of music, something to push him along. He was reaching his limit, here, regardless of how close shit was.
But there was no music, and there was no time to get any music, so Kyo improvised. “D-d-d-dooodoo… d-d-d-d-dooo…” Kyo sputtered, his vocals shaking, singing the instrumental portion of a song that probably fit very well at the moment. “It’s the fiinal countd—,” Kyo was cut off, as he was interrupted by an oncoming contraction, turning it into some sort of inhuman death shriek. Fuck the world, it was go time, this shit was ending now.
Kyo put all of his effort into the next push, feeling like every part of his body was about to explode with the strain. His world became a swirling mass of unbelievable pain and determination. He just kept pushing, not even paying attention to anything but the thought of this fucker getting out, even as his butthole stretched with a fiery pain of a fucking head barreling through it. Kaoru had better have his God damn catcher’s-mitt on, back there.
Even as the contraction began to subside, he just kept going. No, he was not going to let his body fuck shit up now. Fuck nature. This made things more difficult, it seemed, but that didn’t matter for shit.
Suddenly everything just… stopped. He wasn’t sure what was going on, or what was happening, but his body knew that it was over, and he finally stopped. He sort of just, stayed there, breathing raggedly, in shock and confusion.
Kaoru hurriedly cupped his hands under the bloody, messy protrusion that suddenly emerged from Kyo’s ass. Oh Jesus, that was some slimy shit, right there. Shinya suddenly crouched down next to the tub and yanked a towel from Toshiya’s lap, supervising as the guitarist carefully started tugging the baby’s body loose.
It was a little like a game of Jenga. Bit by bit, until this slippery, frothy chunk of newborn came shooting out into his grasp, halfway in the water. The baby gave a startled noise and so did Kaoru, then Kyo and then the baby, as he lifted their son up and took a good look at him, as he started squalling. Oh, he was not really pretty—all scrunched up and with his little bit of hair all matted and sticky looking on his head, and his foamy, slimy body… and crinkly, long legs. Seriously, what was up with his legs?
In the meantime, Shinya reached over and pinched the baby’s nose, squeezing out lord-only-knew-what from it, and used the towel to rub his head a little bit. “We’re going to need to tie the cord off,” he remarked, and paused, thinking of what to use that was in the bathroom.
All of a sudden, Toshiya leapt up from the toilet seat. At first, Shinya thought that he was about to vomit and he was about to get all sort of mad if there was more of a mess in his bathroom—but no. The bassist proceeded to grasp his skimpy thong and rip through the skimpy waistband with a manly shout. “Here,” he breathed savagely with an undue rush of adrenaline, his balls and all that business, just swaying in the breeze as he handed the drummer his skivvies to use as a tourniquet.
“Yeah,” Shinya said, lifting an eyebrow as he accepted the scrap of elastic and funk, “thanks.” He proceeded to knot it up, nice and tight, around the cord. Hopefully, the baby wouldn’t end up with some sort of sickness or some shit, from Toshiya’s butthole or something awkward like that, rubbing all up on that thong, all night.
Once Die carefully lowered Kyo down so that he was reclining in the tub again and drunkenly stepped out of the way, Kaoru proceeded to extend their crying son out to the singer. His body looked a lot smaller, when not in comparison with the blonde’s anus, the guitarist was a little surprised to find. There was good news also, in the fact that he was finding him less and less fugly with the moments that passed. Actually, he was looking a little cute.
Kyo was still in shock, and feeling a little sore. There he was, holding that thing that had taken residence in his he-womb for months, until he finally got that fateful evection notice. He wasn’t sure what he should do… He didn’t know whether cry, or laugh, or sleep. “…Shit,” he said finally, still staring in confusion.
Out of curiosity, Kyo reached a free hand down between his legs, briefly felt his man-hole and then quickly drew his hand away. No, he was not going there. Things just felt way too fucking scary. Oh God, he was going to bleed for years.   “Oh God, my ass…”
Shinya migrated his way to his medicine cabinet and snatched up a singular pill bottle out of a sea. A bitch wasn’t Dir en grey’s drummer without collecting an impressive cache of painkillers and while he loved himself, he also loved Kyo a little, and a torn-out butt was probably a good reason to dope him up. It wasn’t like tainted boob-milk was going to make the kid any more tweaked-out that he was already.
The drummer plucked one out and turned around to Kyo, crouching down and stuffing yet another thing into his mouth, that evening. “Tastes like shit, but you’ll thank me in a minute,” he said, and proceeded to migrate off to see if he could find some panties that would fit Kyo’s ass, so that he could slap a pad on that shit, yo.
Kyo didn’t care of that shit was literally shit, he would take that shit to get rid of this…shitty-as-fuckin’-shit pain in his torn up shit-hole. He swallowed that shit, and awaited the sweet relief of… not pain. Meanwhile, he was still sitting in the tub. A tub that was now pretty much… pink and filled with other disgusting substances. He was surprised Kaoru was still chilling in there, with him. Kyo didn’t want to stand up, though. He was afraid of what might happen to his butt, if he did.
Kaoru proceeded to carefully climb out of the tub before some placenta arrived on the scene. The first bloody clump that fell out of Kyo’s butt, he could handle—after all, they got to keep him for a while—but not the second one. No, sir. He loathed to drip the singer’s birth water all over Shinya’s floor, but it was going to happen, eventually.
In a drawer in Shinya’s bathroom counter, he found a pair of scissors. It didn’t take a genius to cut the baby’s cord—just a dad. He knelt down and gently turned the baby over, picking up the scissors and placing them below the knotted elastic of Toshiya’s thong. It was a touch symbolic, in a way, he felt. He was about to sever their son from Kyo’s body—he was already growing up too fast. However, when he started hacking at that rubbery, tough shit, and nearly got a hand cramp, the guitarist felt a little less emotional about the whole thing.
Kyo felt a tug on his heart-strings as Kaoru’s girly little hands finally managed to snip the cord. Well, that was it… They were a separate being. Kyo almost shed a tear, but stopped himself. No, he was a man… He was a man, and he was just about to give birth again… It was far less difficult than the first birth. Kyo just kind of spread his legs and popped that placenta out. Oh, it was so nasty… and man, his butt. Oh, nothing needed to come in, or go out of his butt for a good long time. Kyo would not poop for months.
Though Kyo had already had time to recuperate from all that birthing a little bit, he was still in shock. He just... squeezed a baby out of his ass, and did so successfully, without any deaths. This was his, and Kaoru’s baby… and it would be, for quite some time. No, always… Kyo thought about this shit, and things seemed to go by quicker than what seemed possible. Before he knew it, he was being ushered out of the tub and carefully dried off by his he-bitch. Then, he was wearing a pair of Shinya’s grandma panties, a pad for the days when Shinya got in touch with his feminine side, which was surprisingly soft.
The drummer came out of the bedroom with a donut-pillow that Kyo could borrow. This was Die’s pillow, he used about three times a month, whenever Shinya got really vigorous with him—but that hadn’t really been the case lately, so Kyo definitely needed it more than the guitarist did. Shinya arranged the cushion and Die was gentleman enough to help ease the small dad down onto the cushion, with just the slightest hint of longing for a reason to use the damned thing.
Kaoru took a tentative seat next to Kyo, feeling fresh in a pair of Shinya’s boxers. The feeling of being slightly manly again was only thwarted by the thought of how much laundry that the drummer was likely to force them to do, as recompense for letting Kyo birth in his germ-free home. “So,” the guitarist asked, leaning over and taking another look at the baby, who was finally swaddled and not so gross looking, anymore, “What are we going to call him?”
“Raiden,” Kyo said, with decision in his voice. There was a fire, a secret pain burning in him. “He was like thunder in my ass.”
The guitarist paused for a moment, contemplating the weirdness of that statement. “Kyo, I don’t think you feel thunder,” he finally said, leaning back a little, so that the other didn’t go nuts and try to pump him silly. Wait, what?
With a look that suggested that he would set Kaoru’s beard on fire, the singer disagreed. “Have you ever felt thunder in your ass?” he challenged, “Because I have, and if I ignore that and we don’t name this baby Raiden, I’m going to be fucking up the cosmic energy. So, don’t you try to put your fancy school-logic on me, guy.” Jesus, what was in that shit that Shinya had given him? He needed to take them all the time, especially when he was writing songs, hoshit.
“Alright, we’ll name him Raiden,” Kaoru conceded and looked at it through the scope that the other could be demanding that he be named Crap-Sack or something like that. He wasn’t, so the guitarist had that much to be thankful for, at least. School would be awful for the kid. ‘Oh, hey, my name is Crap-Sack—do you want to be my friend?’
The drummer came walking through again, this time, turning off the lights in the living room. Once more, they were in a freaky-smelling, dark environment—it was almost like Kyo hadn’t given birth—almost. He snagged the remote control and started Titanic again. Damn it, they were going to finish that movie, if it killed them.
Picking up his abandoned beverage, Shinya deposited himself back amongst the cushions of his seating arrangement. Ohyeah, that was a couch, alright; all soft and couchy. He took a drink and propped his heels up on the coffee table, only to notice that Die was leaning over and staring intently at him, as he did so. Probably getting some sick thrills out of it or something. When Die smoked marijuana, he got all sorts of weird, sexual inspiration, so it wasn’t shocking. “What?” the drummer finally had to ask.
“Are you drinking tea?” Die asked, with a squint. He could have sworn that the other had been guzzling down booze all night—how many fucking cans had he seen the guy lugging around? With how bitchy and mean the drummer had been, it damn sure had been more than one fucking can—and it certainly hadn’t been tea. That was Shinya-grade drunken rage, all evening. “Whose tea is that? You had beer, didn’t you?”
A derisive snort issued from Shinya and he shook his head. The nerve of Die, he swore. “This is my tea and they’ve been my teas, all evening, Die,” he elaborated, slowly. If he talked any slower, though, they would miss the movie again. He swung his free hand around in a half circle and looked at the guitarist, in the dim lighting, “Why would I consume toxic substances that are bad for my baby, Die?”
The world screeched to a halt for a second, for everyone in the room. Titanic even fucking skipped and froze on the screen, for a millisecond. Kyo yelped as he attempted to shoot forwards and look at Shinya in disbelief, clinging tightly to little Raiden, destroyer of anuses. Kaoru covered his mouth in a very unmanly way and then dropped his hand guiltily—he had so hoped that he would shed that shit with his panties.
“Baby?” Toshiya croaked, with wide eyes. His life flashed before them and his stomach turned a flip on itself. And in his head, they were rolling around on his bed again—Shinya impaling himself on the bassist’s dick and riding him like a cheap party pony. Then, they were baking bread in the kitchen; swabbing the poop deck in the bathroom.
Die slapped his hand to his face for a brief moment and then sighed. A weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. “Oh, God,” he finally uttered, “its Toshiya’s, isn’t it?” There was no way that it was Die’s—he had been getting plugged by Shinya, for weeks, not the other way around.
“Yeah,” Shinya replied, unapologetically, and took another drink of tea. He wasn’t stupid—two baby-daddies were going to be way more useful than just having one. Die wasn’t goin’ anywhere and Toshiya just wanted love so much that he would eat curly fries off of penis to get it and then raise a baby, too. Honestly, if truth be told, the drummer loved the two of them—but he wasn’t about to say that shit. He was Shinya, damn it.
“Thank God,” Die sighed again, like he was deflating. “Oh, this is such a relief—it’s not going to be a ginger,” he finally concluded, gesturing to his weave. He had a secret fear of having red-headed children, so he felt that things were better this way—if Toshiya kept fathering Shinya’s children and the three of them just raised them together. He could get with that.
“Die, you’re so stoned,” Toshiya finally said, with a chortle. But it was less of a chortle and more of a goose trapped in a blender, so everyone else joined in the laughter until the scene froze in mid-action and faded out, like an old sitcom.
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