Fifty Shades of EraserMic (Shades of EraserMic #1)

Let's Get "Handy"!

"Hizashi?"

Green eyes flicked up at him, the book in his hands pressed down to his chest as the light caught his lenses lightly causing them to flash up at him and the blonde hummed. Swallowing, he twirled a few locks of that long, blonde hair around his fingers idly with his phone dangling from his left hand. His heart skipped at the rather patient, curious face of his husband's as he continued to twirl the locks of hair around his fingers.

As if he were some kind of nervous teenage girl on the phone with her crush. Something he was doing subconsciously yet soothingly. "Would you fist me?"

Those eyes widened at him, his mouth dropping open a bit with a breath rushing out on a wheeze and he felt a blush rush up to his cheeks, burning fiercely as he looked down at his husband evenly while the man looked astonished. As if his request had come completely out of left field when, in fact, it had not. Shouta wasn't afraid to admit he was upset their challenge was almost over; nine remaining.

And with the end of summer looming it felt as if there simply wasn't enough time left for him to really enjoy it. He felt as though he had spent too much time being shy, being easily embarrassed, to truly enjoy it like his husband had been and it had left him hesitant about choosing a new kink after their foray into the nipple clamps. Surprisingly, the nipple clamps had become a beloved toy like any others in the drawer.

However, it was as he was looking over his options, over the remaining choices, that he narrowed in on one that sounded as if it would be a challenge. Something that he had heard of in insults, strange flirting and in the jokes the teenagers spit at one another annoyingly but something he had heard of others doing. It was a whole category on Pornhub itself but he never thought that he would be the one to choose to do something like it.

While it didn't sound pleasant, didn't sound like it would be comfortable, Shouta had always sworn he'd try something once. And even if fisting didn't sound pleasant, it didn't sound easy and it was a bit of a cringe worthy idea he'd try it. Because despite it all? Despite the aspects of it? It sounded exciting. Absolutely, positively exciting. He didn't know if they could do it, if Hizashi would be willing to do it, but by God if it didn't honestly sound absolutely thrilling to just try.

His husband had already used three fingers when preparing him lately so how much work would it be to get two more in? How much work would it be to get the whole hand in there? He'd been reading article after article, looking up guides to the best way to make it pleasant and how to go about it; anything he could search, anything he could read, he chased after it. He read anything he came across, dove down rabbit holes, and made himself crazy thinking of the mechanics of it.

Thinking how they'd do it, when they would do it, and how it would work far too late at night when Hizashi was sleeping next to him. He was going over it again and again until he ultimately left the bed in favor of snatching his phone up and going to the kitchen. He didn't want to hide anything from Hizashi, didn't want to seem suspicious, but his mind simply wouldn't turn off the past two days after that little word had caught his attention on the list.

And given they had about two weeks left to their vacation, he wanted nothing more than to try something a little risker. But two weeks didn't feel like enough. In fact, it was more like one week if he thought about it. When they entered that final week of their vacation he knew they would be spending it getting lesson plans together, assignments made and worksheets along with homework printed out.

They'd be making sure their classrooms were ready for the oncoming year yet again. Second years were always rough. Especially with end of year exams, oh, those had been particularly rough but they'd gotten through it and students passed with flying colors surprisingly enough. It was merely a matter of many things needing to come together. The dots were there but not connected. And he had one week, realistically, left to spend with his husband.