A/n: Yo sorry for OOC.

I.

The first time Kuroh does it is when he's on one of his master's training missions. Ichigen-sama has entrusted him to independently complete a task and so he readily sets off, taking his sword (though it refuses to cooperate), his voice recorder and his suitcase of cooking utensils. It's not exactly an easy mission, and so he has to stay away from home for several weeks. He's not sure exactly why that happens either, all he remembers is that one minute he's missing the kind warmth of Ichigen-sama very much, the next he's woken up from a fitful and rather inappropriate dream, and before long, in his half-awake state, his hand is down his pants and he's touching himself to the thought of going back to a pleased master.

When he comes down from his brief euphoria and realises what he's done, he is humiliated beyond belief. He thinks he's disrespected his master and when he does return, he can't look properly Ichigen-sama in the eye for weeks despite the Colourless King's many praises of a mission well completed.

II.

The second time it occurs is some time after his master passes away. It's so wrong, he thinks, to do something that would smear the memory of his Ichigen-sama like that, but he misses the man so much it hurts – he misses the one who has been so kind to him for around thirteen years.

His hand doesn't listen to him, of course.

To his horror, his memory of Ichigen-sama is not like it used to be. Fair enough, after all he doesn't see the man daily anymore; he's only got an old photo, a key chain and a recorder full of quotes. He thought they were enough, but they don't quite capture the warmth and kindness his master had – they only capture his likeness and wisdom and for Kuroh it's not quite enough.

He finds himself reaching for the recorder with one hand. He swallows hard as he presses the button and his master's soothing words fill his ear. His other hand fumbles, stroking nervously at velvety skin, body wracked with guilty pleasure and shuddering breaths. With a strangled cry, he finishes, come dripping over slender pale fingers as the recorder finishes relaying the tail end of a quote.

The way molten lust floods his lower abdomen, burning unpleasant thoughts and stress away, leaves Kuroh sleepy and satisfied. He decides that he won't make this a habit.

III.

It becomes a bad habit.

It's worse when he finally tracks down the next Colourless King and confronts him, and one thing leads to the other and they're living together with the Strain, eating his cooking and escaping HOMRA and Scepter 4.

What has the world come to?

He's not supposed to have made that a habit, anyway, just a manner of relieving stress – however the fact is that Shiro and Neko have given him more stress these few days then he's experienced for a long, long time. He can't even touch himself either in their company, because that's just beyond inappropriate.

He's at his limit, though, and at night, he sneaks into the bathroom, turning on the fans and keeping the door locked. This way, he's effectively soundproofed his activities.

Pressing the button, familiar words echo around the small bathroom and Kuroh winces a little however he knows that it's not loud enough for the other two to hear, or so he thinks, and he wraps his fingers around himself and pretends that Master Ichigen is doing it for him.

Shiro has been awake, thinking of what to do to prove his innocence, when Kuroh quietly gets up to go to the bathroom. At first he thinks it's nothing, but then he needs to go to the bathroom too, so he stands up and as he shuffles towards the door… he hears a muffled moan almost hidden by the sound of fans.

Well, it is because he's got his ear pressed up to the door, but he wants to know why Kuroh has been gone for so long! Kuroh is anything if not punctual, even with his bathroom breaks (not that Shiro consciously analyses, he just notices) so why was he taking so long? Apparently this is why, he thinks in faint surprise. He'll have to re-evaluate his perceptions about the young man because he does not expect this and why should he, really?

The fleeting thought of what Kuroh's expression looks like as he's touching himself gets Shiro a little hard. It's a dangerous thought, really, the man who's threatened to kill him many a time, arousing him like this. But the thing is that Kuroh's so pretty with his delicate features and long dark hair and slim limbs and soft skin and no, he shouldn't be thinking about that when his life is in danger.

So he pushes down his pants and prays that Neko doesn't wonder why neither he nor Kuroh have gone back to bed, and comes to investigate.

Shiro imagines how soft Kuroh's lips would be if they were wrapped around his cock, large blue-grey eyes staring up at him as he takes Shiro into his mouth. Would his hair become dishevelled if Shiro dragged his fingers through jet black hair and forced him to take it further down his throat? Would his eyes water and narrow with indignation at the treatment or would he become a little pliant and service him sweetly? Oh, what a fantasy – to see the unyielding swordsman take a cock into his mouth would be very delightful. A shudder runs through Shiro's back as he rocks into his own hand, getting himself off to the soft moans from inside the bathroom and the thought that Kuroh was inside, doing something similar. As he hits his orgasm with a shiver, Shiro hears a sigh before footsteps echo in the bathroom and panic runs through his body. Shiro scrambles away, praying that Kuroh doesn't hear him, and dives into his bed, pants still not done up. He desperately stills his heartbeat and breathing as Kuroh returns to the room.

Kuroh settles to bed and it's a while before Shiro has the nerve to pull his pants back up.

IV.

It happens again the next night, and Shiro wasn't exactly, you know, waiting for it or anything, he was just morbidly curious. Not to mention, the thought that Kuroh could catch him was strangely arousing in itself. Dangerous, for sure. It couldn't be helped, though, really.

Tonight he wonders what it would be like between Kuroh's thighs.

Shiro bets silently to himself that Kuroh's thighs are as soft and pale as his face, with just the hint of strong muscle rippling beneath the skin. He thinks that like the rest of Kuroh that he's seen, they'll be delicate and feminine, and look absolutely obscene pressed around Shiro's cock. They'll be soft, like two silk pillows, as he rocks into them and stains them with precum. He imagines himself squeezing them with his fingers, eliciting those delicious half-moans that Kuroh tries to suppress. He can hear the uneven breathing and the thought of Kuroh's swollen lips begging for more, for Shiro to do him more, is a little more arousing than Shiro predicted. He accidentally lets out a loud low moan which he forces himself to bite off halfway.

He hears a zip being done up and fast footsteps approaching and he knows he's not gonna make it but he can try or he'd be damned.

He silently curses himself before shuffling as fast as he can out of the way but it's not enough.

A hand grasps the back of his shirt. "Isana Yashiro."

Uh oh.

Kuroh takes one look at Shiro's crotch (complete with cock hanging out of pants; Shiro silently wishes to melt into the ground) and puts two and two together. A mixture of shame and anger is evident in his blue eyes, and he grits his teeth.

"H-hey, please, I'm really sorry – don't kill me!" Shiro whispers in panic. The worst case scenario would be that he would die in this state and then Neko would come along and remember him as a pervert for all of eternity.

Neither are entirely sure what to expect next, though they don't expect ithis./i

Shiro decides that he may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb or however the adage goes. He reaches for Kuroh's crotch and brush his knuckles against the erection. Dark brows furrow as Kuroh gives a slight hiss of pleasure, unsure of whether to accept Shiro's advances or kill the other man immediately.

Shiro cautiously wraps his fingers around Kuroh's cock, giving the warm velvety appendage a quick stroke. Kuroh squeezes his eyes shut, rocking into Shiro's hand, trying to muffle the slight keening sounds he's embarrassed that he's making.

Shiro moves a little closer to the other, before gently taking Kuroh's hand and wrapping it around his cock. Kuroh allows him to do so, breath hitching at how warm it is. Kuroh's hand is better than Shiro imagines it, palm smooth as it brushes against him intimately, but slightly calloused where it's used to gripping a sword. The friction has Shiro's breathing uneven with want. Feeling a little more courageous from the positive reaction, Shiro moves so that both of their cocks are touching and rutting against each other. He can see how wild Kuroh's eyes are at this contact, needy for more, and so Shiro guides their hands so that they are wrapped around both of their cocks while they continue to rub them together.

The way they're both breathing raggedly is probably a little too loud, so Shiro leans into Kuroh and kisses him. Those lips are soft as he swallows Kuroh's light moans, which are as sweet as Kuroh's mouth. He wants to stay here, like this, for longer, with desire running through his veins and Kuroh's hands on his cock.

They continue to rut against each other into their hands, legs entangled as they sit outside the bathroom, desperately seeking comfort in each other. They're both so close to coming, and so Shiro hurries it along just a tad by squeezing his hand a little. Kuroh gives a small strangled sob into Shiro's mouth and then it's over, cum staining their hands and the echoes of an embrace still lingering in their limbs.

Kuroh allows Shiro to clean up and go to the bathroom first. When Shiro goes to bed, he nods awkwardly towards Kuroh who gives a stiff nod back.

V.

They don't talk about it the day after. Or the day after that, or the next.

What does happen though is that every night at the same time, the two find themselves meeting at the same place and repeating the same act in the semi-darkness outside the bathroom door. It's their little stress reliever.

Over those few days, Kuroh does find that he's doesn't play his voice recorder as much anymore. But for him, that's strangely fine.

end.