Drunken Love
By AGirlCaledFred

Disclaimer: Dude, I have negative 45 cents to my name. If I owned Kinnikuman, don’t you think I’d have at least enough money to buy a Godsdammed soda? >__<;;

This is dedicated to my good friend and Choujin smut writer, Jennyrogue! For, without her, I would have never had the inspiration for this. Plus, OHMYGODS, I miss her junk in the trunk at the Revenge RPG and everywhere else. ;___;

Oh, and PLEASE, if anyone wants to MSTing this, just tell me and send me a transcript and links to wherever you post it at Fred_monsterous@yahoo.com! I will love you until I don’t feel like it anymore! =D

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It was ten p.m.

Pump STILL wasn’t back.

Mantaro was worried.

It would be lights out soon, and if he wasn’t here, Akuma Shogun would be very, VERY displeased. Mantaro, personally, didn’t give two shits in a bush about the Devil Knight Leader, but he knew what a devout follower Pumpinator was, and the Kinniku Prince would do anything for him.

He sighed, shifting uncomfotably on the bed, and looked at the clock.

10:05.

‘Fuck,’ were his thoughts as he bit his lip, not hurting due to the rubber of his mask. ‘Where is he? I hope he’s not hurt or dying anywhere. I would be pissed. Doesn’t even have the decency to call if he’s dead. Not that there’s a phone here. And not that he’d be able to call if he was dead. Maybe he’d have a ghost phone that could, like, call my brain. That’d be cool. What about roaming? Do ghost brain phones have roaming charges? If I had to get a plan, for my brainy ghost phone thing, what would I choose? Oh, wait, look. The door’s opening.’

And indeed it was.

“Ack! Pump!” He stood and rushed over to the doorway, grabbing the Shoe’s hand and hauling him inside.

“Dammit!” He cried in frustration, spinning around to glare at slightly wobbling form. ”Where have you BEEN? Do you KNOW what time it is? If someone saw you…. the shit would be piled up to our eyeballs! What if……” He paused, sniffing the air. “……. You smell like Brocken Jr. You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

Pump grinned like an idiot, normally his partner’s job, but I digress. “ YEP.” He spurted out far louder then what was necessary in the late evening, with Mantaro right in front of him, still wrinkling his nose.

The Prince in question gave a long-suffering sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I should have know, you lush…. Let’s get to bed before we have our asses handed to us on mediocre china platters by Akuma.” He started towards the twin beds they had pushed together. He was interrupted, however, by two clumsy, muscular arms around his shoulder, and a pair of fomented lips pressed against his neck.

“Tha’ shounds like a wooonderoush plan, loverly. I’m feeling rather ‘tired’ myshelf…” The Shoe Choujin slurred, his hands traveling slowly down Mantaro’s body, who blushed and attempted to push him away.

“Not NOW! Akuma will be here to check on us any minute now! And besides, you reek of booze.” He curled a lip in disgust.

Pumpinator would not be deterred. He only smirked as he pushed the protesting Kinniku backwards, his knees buckling when their backs hit the edge of the bed, and he gasped in surprise, then squeaked in outrage as he was climbed upon by the Shoe. He tried to struggle out from under the larger man, but to no avail. Pump was giggling his drunken giggle as he yanked the shirt off the poor Choujin’s back. Mantaro’s angry cussing fest of how that was his favorite shirt and how his mother did many unmentionable things to farm animals and George Bush Sr. was his father, was cut short by hot, needy lips against his own and battle-roughened fingertips tweaking his sensitive nipples in the most delightful way.

The Prince moaned his reluctant approval of the touching, his worries temporarily banished by his lover’s unsteady yet skilled hands. The low, flushing heat he was so familiar with rose to the surface, which it never failed to do with Pump. He wrapped his arms, almost shyly, around the Choujin’s neck and returned the kiss. His tongue rubbed against the other wrestler’s, hot and wet.

The buzz from the alcohol intensified the sensations, causing Pump to harden painfully, and making him itch to get his clothing off. He had opted for more ‘normal’ garments for his bar hopping, seeing as his blue skin and pink, pupiless eyes were bizarre enough, and he wanted to keep as unnoticeable as possible.

He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it into the unknown corners of the dark room. His pants followed, and he kicked them off gracelessly. He had no underwear to bother with, they had been ripped off him earlier in the day during a vicious wedgie fight with Mars. His clothes taken care of, he turned his attentions to his lover’s remaining coverings. He tried to suavely slip his pants off, but ended up clumsily twisting Mantaro’s underpants. Luckily, nothing was harmed, and Pump’s gaze was drawn to the semi-hard length between the Kinniku’s legs. He grasped it, swallowing it up hungrily and sucking.

Mantaro cried out, setting his hands in the Shoe’s hair and tugging gently, urging him along. He arched towards the hot mouth as he was shoved all the way into Pump’s throat, the muscles tightening at the intrusion, then relaxing as the gag reflex was calmed. The Prince squirmed restlessly, gasping and twitching at the raw pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. It was pure torture when the Shoe lifted his head and wiped his mouth, it was replaced by a lazy hand to soothe until the time was right.

“Got lube?” He mumbled drunkenly, not sober enough to recognize the humor in his statement, and Mantaro’s mind too busy trying to decipher the words in his foggy head.

“Y-yeah…. Second drawer….” He pointed his gaze towards the bedside table, alarm clock and pencil can on the top. He was relieved that it had been remembered; It would be a very uncomfortable ride without it.

Pump reached over, opened the drawer and grabbed the small plastic bottle. He squeezed a generous amount into his palm, and rubbing it over himself, a silent moan escaping his lips. He used the remaining goo to slick his lover’s entrance, one finger, then two and three stretching to prepare for intrusion.

The Prince’s legs were spread wide, one knee hooked onto a hip as Pump’s thick head pushed slowly into him, the breeching only slightly painful. He was soon buried to the hilt in the Kinniku, pausing to allow for adjustment, even in drunkenness he wanted no discomfort for the smaller man. A moment passed, and Mantaro lifted his hips slightly to signal his rediness. Pump wasted no time, pulling out and shoving back in, ripping a desperate whimper out of the other’s throat.

Pump groaned at the tight heat of the Prince, rocking his hips to and fro. Mantaro bucked his hips up towards him, wrapping both his legs tightly around the Shoe’s waist, pulling him in deeper and urging for harder thrusts, with which Pump complied eagerly. The larger Choujin angled his strokes to hit Mantaro’s sweet spot, making the Prince yelp loudly, raking his fingernails down Pump’s back, drawing blood as he came hard. Pump arched his back at the pain, thoroughly enjoying it, and his loud moans mingled with the Kinniku’s as he released his seed into him.

They both panted in exhaustion, Pump rolling over and hugging Mantaro tightly to his chest as their breathing slowed. They kissed, and were about to slide under the duvet when the door flew open, banging against the wall.

“Alright, boys! Lights out!” Came Akuma’s gruff demand, hands on his hips, ever-present armor shining dully in the moonlit room. His hands fell from his hips, however, when he saw he two, naked, sweaty, new blood crusting on the blue skin of his follower.

There was a long, awkward silence as the God stared stupidly, and the lovers stared back, too mortified to try and cover up or even move.

Moments later, Akuma managed to snap out of his shock, a slight blush showing through his mask as he suddenly became extremely interested in the far right wall. He cleared his throat.

“Umm…. I suppose…. Suppose you two have the bed thing well taken care of,” He said, trying to be smooth about it, “Uhhh…… goodnight.”

He disappeared back through the door through whence he came, shutting it behind him.

More quiet ensued as the couple turned to look at each other, identical expressions of shock, horror, and above all, embarrassment, on their faces. Pump was the first to speak.

“Well, I think you should know….. I’m sober now….” He tried, but his joke crashed and burned with Mantaro, who simply rolled his eyes and yanked the covers over them both.

“Go to sleep, dammit.” He said, and they did.