It's Only Gay if the Balls Touch

Part 2

Hunter x Smoker (OCs)

Thank AI director in all his holiness I have FINISHED! Smut has always taken me forever to write and since I haven't written any in a while because of lack of an interesting enough pairing to make me want to this one took even LONGER… that and the fact that the persona series is a very addicting game… not because extremely good, I mean its literally addicting. Its like crack, you can't stop once you start and you feel ashamed each time you go back.

On a sad note, though this was about the most FUN I've had with any porn in a while upon reading it I don't like the way it flows very much, probably because it reads better with the first chapter in tow, they were originally supposed to go together anyway. If you just want straight guy smut or zombie smut then you'll be happy I hope none the less.

How did he get himself into these messes?

He was sure Desmond would have easily answered him with some comment about him being spoiled or and idiot or… some game phrase he didn't even understand, if his mouth wasn't occupied at the moment.

"H-hey! D-"

Or more precisely his tongue.

The little hunter flinched as the ridiculously long appendage slipped in his fly and opened in his pants. He would have gotten away but there were two tree trunks of arms planted on either side of him. Why hadn't he ever noticed how much bigger the smoker was then him… or maybe it was just made painfully obvious by the position.

A small yelp slipped from his mouth when the tongue made contact with skin.

He'd never like those damn things. They were freakish, popping out from everywhere on the smoker, twitchimg and slithering like they had a mind of their own. It was disturbing enough when they snagged his clothes or snatched him in mid jump, but he'd never actually felt them.

It was gross and slippery and-and…

Surprisingly warm.

A whimper followed his yelp as the tentacle began to twine itself around… well around something he'd never want a tentacle around. Shit, it really was hot, and wet-

"St-stop that!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

But the tongue just wrapped tighter around his shaft, it felt stronger then his own hand, the pressure was getting to be too much.

"Why?" the smoker's voice was a stark deadpan compared to Frisk's embarrassingly broken speech.

"C-cause if you keep th-that up I'm gonna-AH!" his body flinched when the offending appendage pulsated up, then down, in a painfully slow rhythm.

"Isn't that the point of all this?"

Frisk's eyes might have been screwed shut but he could feel that damn know it all smirk beaming on him.

"B-bastard."

Well he wasn't about to let the fag think he was enjoying this.

… But it was damn hard not to.

Jeezus Christ! It was like getting a hand job and being blown at the same time. His head was spinning so wildly he had to sink his claws into the couch's upholstery to keep from flying off. His teeth ground hard enough to make his jaw ache and his eyes were beginning to water. He wasn't sure what he was fighting with but he wasn't about to loose.

But then, as if just to torment him, the tip of the smoker's tongue began to taunt the head of his member. Frisk, who had been trying so hard to keep quiet, let out a breathless gasp, like coming up for air. That opened the can of worms, now he couldn't stop. Every twitch and pulse from the other bought weak moans and mews from his lips and made his legs kick uselessly like a kid.

For a moment he was so lost that he didn't mind things anymore. Yeah, it was a guy doing this to him, it was Desmond, and Desmond wasn't so bad...

That second was over with quickly when the world crashed back down on him like a smack to the face.

Frisk let out a yelp when he came, blinded by a flash of white. He could feel the sudden heat in his groin seeping into his pants. For some reason he felt more embarrassed then he could ever remember feeling.

It took him a few seconds to realize his eyes were closed and had been the whole time. With caution he opened them one at a time and was met with Desmond starting back.

He wasn't beaming in victory, he wasn't grimacing at the mess he had made, he was just staring, staring with some expression the hunter couldn't translate.

Frisk leaned away, the whole thing disturbed him. Had he been watching him like that this whole time? He didn't even want to imagine what was turning in that big brain of his. What the was wrong with him.

Why won't he kiss me?

Frisk gave a high pitched yip at the thought. Where the hell did that come from? No! No! He shook the thought away, that was the last thing he needed now! He just wanted Desmond to stop fucking staring at him!

If he was going to stare like that he could at least lean in and…

NO! SHUT UP!

Thankfully, when the smoker drew close the things that came out of his mouth weren't what was running through his head.

"What the hell are you lookin' at Fa-aaAAH!"

The little hunter's legs were pulled out from under him as his gray camo pants were yanked off. He was still dizzy from his own aftermath and couldn't make sense of what was going on. When he tried to question it all that came out where a few frantic yips and confused barks.

"Calm down, you've had your turn." Was all Desmond answered, though his usual monotone was off.

It was beyond akward, sprawled out on the over plush couch with his own stained pants lying abandoned on the floor and his lower body there for all too see… well Desmond to see. There was an uncomfortable flashback to the old high school locker rooms, but that was never half as bad as this.

Damn it, he couldn't have taken off his hoodie too? If his face got any hotter it would probably burst into flames.

But Desmond wasn't looking at his face, or his lower half, Frisk wasn't sure if he should be thankful or just confused. Apparently the smoker was hot too, he probably would have noticed the extra haze of smoke if he hadn't been so distracted. He began tugging off his jacket, the green plaid was nearly mesmerizing in the hunters foggy state before it too was thrown to the floor, revealing a t-shirt that had "Keep out of direct sunlight" etched across it. Frisk would have rolled his eyes but any chance of that was halted when the t-shirt came off.

"What the HELL?"

Desmond stopped, arms stuck up in the air, still tangled in his own shirt. His good eye gave the little hunter a glare that said 'Do you ever shut up?' but what came out of his mouth was "Something wrong?"

"T… That's just not fair."

He'd never noticed it, the smoker was always cloaked in his multiple layers of geek chic and nerd logos. But once that was all peeled way… It wasn't fair, he was already taller and calmer then the hunter.

Why did he have to be ripped too?

Well ripped might have been a strong word, but he was still far more intimidating then the little hunter. Desmond's arms had to be thicker then his thighs, packed with muscles tied together in tight pectorals. No wonder he could hoist him up so easily when he ran off or hold him down when he started slashing at him. He'd always been too pissed to even think about it but this guy could easily mangle his 5 foot 2 body, and with all the shit he'd done to him he was surprised this hadn't happened already...

But bodily harm was not on the menu today. Desmond had already passed off whatever Frisk had said as gibberish as usual and tossed his t-shirt to the floor. The hunter's breath catch in his throat when the smoker suddenly came extremely close to his face. He could feel the soft pelt of thin, nicotine laced smoke ghost across his skin.

.

Desmond pulled down the zipper of his hoodie, it seemed to take longer then it should have.

Damn it! If the bastard kept scaring him like this he was going to pass out, spontaneously combust and pass out.

Frisk whined indignantly when one of his legs was hoisted up, the smoker seemed concerned, but about something else. Their eyes were locked almost as awkwardly as the position they were in, like they wanted to look away but couldn't. Frisk was trying to gather some hidden power of clairvoyance to figure out what the hell was going to assault his brain next.

"Hey…"

He caught his attention. "W-what?"

"…I'd relax if I were you."

Before he could process what the other meant by that his entire body tensed and squeezed into himself as if a gunshot had just gone off. It might have been far worse then that.

Something had touched him, something warm and limber, probably one of those damn tentacles. It had made contact right where his thighs met his rear. It hadn't even done anything yet, but he was already on full alert.

"W-what the HELL!" He was prepared to kick and scratch, to find a way out from under the larger infected, but Desmond settled his head in the crook of the others neck.

"Relax." Was all he said, thick, rugged voice, made gravely by the cigarettes, vibrated against his ear.

There wasn't any fighting after that.

Still Frisk shifted back and forth uncomfortably as the appendage worked very slowly towards its destination, feeling around blindly along the way. When it found what it was looking for he instinctively winced, claws sinking into the arms that were holding him still. Why was he letting him just DO this to him? This was it, what every guy who went to prison feared, what his parents and friends and church had warned him about. Shit!

But it wasn't 'It'.

Or at least it wasn't what he expected 'it' to be.

Maybe it was because those tentacles weren't very thick, maybe it was because it was slick and put up little resistance (he realized after a moment with a wave of heat to his face that all that prodding and exploring had been to gather fluids from his earlier release to make things easier) but it… it wasn't that bad.

It was WEIRD, that was for sure.

He resisted the urge to squirm as it worked its way inside him, trying to hide whatever expressions were plastered on his face by burrowing into the other's shoulder. The world was suddenly a strange confusing mess, all he wanted to know was what the hell was going to happen next.

And then 'next' came.

Frisk's head suddenly shot back with a high pitched yip before freezing with embarrassment, he didn't know he could make that noise. The appendage had found something, he wasn't quiet sure what, but when it was touched again his toes curl and back arch.

"W-W-" he didn't know what he was even trying to say.

But he heard a faint raspy chuckle from the smoker.

Before he could even manage any anger he was caught in another frenzy of hollers and barks, each movement inside him sent a shockwave to his torso and knocked out his brain for a few seconds. Because of this he became lost for he wasn't sure how long, until he felt a sudden emptiness. He let out a whimper that was too pathetic and rocked a little on the couch like a spoiled child. Had it been any other time he would have been ashamed of himself but there were more important things right now.

Like figuring out WHY the hell he STOPPED!

There was a faint clang of a belt buckle hitting the floor followed by the swift familiar sound of a zipper. Frisk found his legs hoisted together in the air and clawed at the smoker's back for any sense of balance. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was doing but when he did a lump stuck itself in his throat.

"Desmond?" his voice cracked pathetically. God he probably looked like some confused blushing virgin on her wedding day… well he sort of was… in a way.

When he looked up at the smoker though, he felt an odd sense of relief. His pail, zombified skin was flushed just as bad, if not worse. His usually hallow breath was strained with a soft wheeze at the edge of each exhale and his stone gray eyes were glassed over. It looked like he was the one getting messed with instead.

Frisk felt his stomach stir when he realized it was all from watching him… or maybe it wasn't his stomach but lower.

The pressure was light at first, a soft pushing against his wet entrance. Honestly he had expected something a bit more… forceful, like when he was half thrown on the couch. Then it came, at first just the slighted tinge of stretching muscles, the discomfort of something being where it shouldn't. The hunter whimpered and clung to the other. Relax, Relax, that's all he need to do, just like Desmond had said. But it was hard, his body tightened and cringed at every new shift and gained centimeter. God, if something didn't happen quick he wasn't going to make it through this.

It was at that moment a pair of lips slammed into his own.

Frisk's brain failed to comprehend what was going on. He knew his eyes were open because he could feel them blinking, but he didn't see anything. He knew there was heat on his mouth and a strange, tingling sensation, like his face had fallen asleep, or maybe it was more like firecrackers, or pop rocks candy, he couldn't really tell. A familiar long tongue passed over his lips and he to stunned to object.

No, wait… he didn't want this.

He flung his arms around broad shoulders, pulling himself closer. The connection was messy, neither could settle on the same place at the same time. If they slowed down things might start to make sense again and they'd loose the hot frantic moment they were in.

NO! Stop! He didn't want this! He didn't! Damn it!

There was the clashing of teeth and the messy battle of tongues which he was sure to lose. They both caught breaths in the occasional gasp out of the side of their mouths. The temperature in the room must have risen because he was starting to sweat, the heat making him dizzy.

No… don't… stop…

He'd been so distracted he hadn't noticed his knees were now almost up to his ears, crossed and hooked around the other back as if he was going to fly away at any moment. He also hadn't been aware of what was going on below until a sudden push hit him in just the right spot

Don't Stop!

The seal of their lips broke when his head shot back, hitting the armrest rather painfully but he didn't pay attention. From his lips came the strange howl again, only louder. Desmond didn't miss a beat, angling down into the crook of his neck. The hunter squirmed and whimpered when he began sucking on his skin. Every time he thought he couldn't take any more another thrust would send him screeching and clawing like some rabid animal. Faintly he could make out the scratches he was making on the others back under his fingertips. The smoker was clentching him so tight he was probably going to wake up to bruises himself. Neither of them really seemed to care at the moment.

Frisk voice was just beginning to go hoarse from all the screaming when there was a tightening pressure in his abdomen. He hadn't realized he'd hardened up again but he knew what was coming all the same. With one last yelp every muscle in his body squeezed and tensed. He sank his teeth into the flesh of the smoker's shoulder to muffle the shrill noise he made as he came.

He could feel Desmond reacting to him, he went into some strange arch and his legs locked straight. There was a breathy moan and deep shudder, making all the shouting and wailing the hunter went through look pathetic. Then there was heat.

A lot of heat.

Hotter then anything he'd felt before.

Frisk whimpered pathetically, it was so hot it hurt. His body was shaking in a confused twist of lingering afterglow and pain. He was stunned to find two strong arms holding him tight until his trembling stopped. It was such a gentle action he didn't know how to respond.

He didn't know anything anymore.

They laid there for a while, maybe an hour, both either too tired or perhaps to comfortable to move. Being comfortable made the hunter all the more uncomfortable.

"Des… y-you're heavy…"

There was a moment of tension, then awkward untangling and finally separation. The air felt very cold and lonely. Desmond settled at the other end of the couch with a sigh, wiping the sweat from his face with his hand, blocking whatever Frisk would be able to read from his expression. It made him all the more suppressed when the smoker just got up, pulled his pants up from around his knees, and walked off.

… Wait?

What the hell?

W-well it wasn't like he expected cuddling or whatever but…

He felt stupid. GOD he felt stupid. The hunter pulled his arms over his face even though there was no one to hide from. That's all this was supposed to be anyway, some stress fuck, he shouldn't care this much, Desmond obviously didn't.

Frisk jumped when there was a sudden pressure on his stomach. Blinking he looked through his arms and was met with the just as surprised face of his roommate.

There was a towel in his hand, resting softly on his abdomen. "I just thought you could… you know…" gray eyes wandered away awkwardly.

Frisk shot up before his brain could contemplate the right reply and snatched it out of his grasp. Turning around he wanted to get as far away from that gaze as possible…. Still he had a point. With an annoying burning at the edge of his ears he cleaned himself off. The silence was painfully awkward, it felt like a staring contest and Frisk was the first to give in. Though he wasn't sure what would come out of his mouth he was sure he was going to yell it, but when he turned around he nothing came out.

Desmond was sprawled with his arms hanging off the back of the couch, leg over one of the armrests. Sweat still clung to his chest as the muscles slowly rose and fell with his breath. With a sigh and small cough the smoker stood up and stretched, his pants hanging barely off his hips after being so hurriedly pulled up.

When you looked at him from this angle… with all those weird tumor things on the other side and his tongue in his mouth… he looked almost handsome.

And that's something he shouldn't really be thinking right now... or at all!

"Sorry…"

The little hunter blinked. "…what?"

"I didn't mean… I didn't plan to go so… Sorry."

"…whatever."

They both shifted uncomfortably.

"You're not… hurt-"

"Its FINE just shut up." He shouldn't care about him like that, he shouldn't be so nice about his. Why couldn't he go back to that smartassed bastard he always was? It was just making things worse.

The hunter leaped off the couch and snatched his pants from the floor. He got dressed making sure to face away from the smoker and his keep his head up high.

"Hey."

God, why couldn't he leave him alone?

"You want to go out hunting?"

…..

"What?"

"I'll take you… I'm sure we can find some of those loudmouths with guns."

Why was he being so fucking nice?

"N… no it's… its fine."

He was too tired, that was it.

"Don't you want to finish your games?"

Desmond looked at the television as if he'd forgotten they were still paused. "Nah…" he shook his head, "I'm out of the zone."

Their air felt thick and heavy. They both stared at the floor silently at the carpet as if it was suddenly very interesting. Frisk should have yelled but he couldn't think of anything to yell about. It seemed his stomach wanted to speak up when it let off a deep growl. Shit… the last thing he needed was a physical reminder of what they had just gone through

"Wanna get some food?"

…..

Well…

"Yeah, I really do."

The smoker looked like he wanted to laugh but the frown on his face stopped any of that.

"Come on, I think we've got pizza in the fridge.

At least the kitchen felt normal, maybe they just needed to get away from the crime scene. Next time they went out they'd probably have to find a new couch too.

For a while there was just the clatter of plates and the buzz of the microwave. After all that, Desmond was just going to make him lunch.

Well… he had to be the one to make didn't have to prepare his own food back before he changed, back when he had maids, a house, money. The smoker was the one who had to teach him how to even feed himself.

Come to think of it he was teaching him how to do a lot of things. He was a bastard but he was right earlier, Frisk had it good.

But why would he take care of him? Even the hunter knew he treated him like shit. Why would he care what was going on with him and do all… this. Why…

"Why?"

"Why what?" the smoker was tapping out some almost familiar retro game tune on the side of the microwave. His usual green plaid jacked hung over his shoulders but he still wasn't wearing a shirt… and it was annoying difficulty not to look.

"Why do you put up with all this crap… why did you do… that stuff? No one's making you."

"You mean beside you?"

The smart ass was back

Frisk responded only with a huff, laying his chin on his crossed arms.

"I would have thought you'd know."

The little hunter looked up but Desmond was watching the slices slowly rotate in the microwave.

"I may not have had many but if I'm not mistaken friends do things for each other."

"Well… yeah… I guess they do."

"And we're friends… right?" The words were soft, nearly silent, but they brought his attention into those pale stone gray eyes that were staring back at him, watching.

He never noticed it before but he was always watching him.

The hunter growled as his face heated up again and shot his gaze back down at the table.

"Y…yeah, of course we are… retard."

He could almost feel that damn smile beaming before a plate was tossed in front of him. Frisk tore into the pizza, he hadn't realized how hungry he was until the smell reached his nose.

The smoker slouched down across the table. "Jeez, you're not a dog in an alley, its not going to fight back, its already dead."

"If you don't shut your face it won't be the only one." He hissed, food still hanging out of his mouth.

Normal, this was normal. It was a relief, a blanket of weight had been lifted off the room.

"We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Didn't I say shut up?"

That's it, it was just something between friends.

Frisk paused in mid-chew, eyes far off.

"You ok, Fido?"

"Yeah, yeah…"

But if they were friends…

Why the hell did he want to jump across the table and kiss the hell out of him?

Btw I want to write a sequel to this with love funny triangle and just a bit of close to their relationship. Anyone know a title about jealously that's as good as the one I made for this?