His fingers run along solid muscle beneath the scratchy starch of his baseball uniform, feeling flesh unyielding, skin lax and uncaring, but it’s only when he feels an unprovoked twitch that Zacharie knows he’s truly fucked.
Lean arms slam him to the ground, proving way too strong as Zacharie instinctually tries to twist under his grasp, a heavy wooden bat clattering across the grass just above his head. Zacharie figures it’s a lost cause, as always, and so goes limp under The Batter’s dark silhouette towering over him, a toothpick between his teeth.
Zacharie swears his heart actually stops when he sees a white grin, lips pulling into a sneer uncanny for the rarity of it, teeth all perfectly square, catching the light of the white sun behind him impossibly.
The Batter. Smiling?!
Had his monster overcome him? Sugar addiction done him in? Zacharie thought he didn’t play with the stuff, thought it had all run dry long ago, but The Batter had always been a very secretive guy, so maybe…
“Are you ticklish?” The Batter asks suddenly.
“Uhh,” Zacharie groans under him, grimacing under his cat mask thankfully hiding it. This is all just way too weird. “Well, you sure don’t seem to be.”
The Batter glares down with oddly expressive eyes. “I asked if you were, Zacharie.”
Wow. And now, not only was the guy talking more than just a monotone “yes”, “no”, “that bat”, “this item”, “here”, “there”, “stop talking”, “I said stop talking”, but he had said his name? Like he actually had one?
He was definitely on sugar.
“Heh, eh, heh, uhh… I, uh, I don’t… actually know…”
The Batter’s wide smile falters considerably, toothpick pointing down as he shifts his teeth. “You don’t know?”
“Well, see, there weren’t really many actual humans down here who weren’t just interested in working like slaves and overdosing on white stuff to begin with, so, yeah, not much tickling going on.” He clenches his hands to fists between their chests, feeling an ache in his forearms where The Batter is still holding him. “But trust me, I’ve tried doing it myself many times… doesn’t really work.”
The Batter’s smile returns at those words, nearly bone-crushing grip releasing as he straightens his back, straddling Zacharie’s legs at the thighs. Zacharie breathes in a sigh of relief. Oh, thank God, he was just gonna leave him alone, finall–
Zacharie pretty much screams in fits of uncontrollable laughter, The Batter’s large fingers running over his sweater but pressing hard enough to penetrate through the thick layers of wool, rushing along his skin and lighting up nerves previously untouched for his entire damn life. A fire of excitement runs through his flesh, up his spine, clouding his brain with a flurry of giggles and hysteria.
Tears of laughter run into his eyes after mere seconds, kicking his legs against solid thighs, arms flailing wildly to his sides before coming to grip at The Batter’s arms and half-heartedly trying to pull them away, of course failing entirely.
He manages to squint his eyes open enough to see The Batter still smiling above him, mouth parting to let out contagious huffs of laughter.
Holy shit, Zacharie barely is able to think, he’s laughing. Fucking laughing.
It’s getting to the point that Zacharie can hardly breathe, lungs trying desperately and failing horribly to catch actual air it can draw some oxygen out of, instead sputtering and convulsing just as the rest of his body does. He feels himself beginning to get light-headed, starts to slap his hands against The Batter’s arms, his ever-clawing fingers, up his solid chest. Yet The Batter doesn’t relent, doesn’t even let up. If anything moves at all, it’s just his smile, widening further into a knowing grin.
The fucking bastard.
“St-ah-hah-st-st-stah-ah-hp!” Zacharie tries to shout, coming out more as a hush, little air to use in the first place and raked to near-incomprehensibility through a larynx vibrating wildly.
The Batter shifts but keeps going even as he sees Zacharie’s skin become red, moving his chest down so it’s near flush to Zacharie’s stuttering rib cage, sliding his hips up so they’re right against his writhing ones.
Then they both seem to make the discovery at exactly the same time.
The Batter’s hands pause, motionless, letting Zacharie heave a great breath laced with shame as his head swims, finally able to make connections once again.
“Whoops,” Zacharie whispers. He’s barely able to drag his eyes through tears drying on his lashes to down between their bodies, confirming that, yep, he’s hard.
Hard as a fucking rock.
Well, he means, it makes sense. Not only was he getting tickled and almost asphyxiated within an inch of his damn consciousness but it was also by the one normal—okay, maybe not— the only other person in the entire fucking world. And yeah, The Batter’s kinda hot, even you gotta admit it. Strong from throwing a bat around all day, lean from walking hundreds of miles to get from one Zone to the next, a chiseled face and those wonderfully dead eyes, he’s pretty much Zacharie’s dream guy. And sure, Zacharie may or may not have jerked off to the thought of him more than a few times, but that’s nobody’s damn business.
But on the other hand, holy shit he’s a fucking pervert. Getting off just because some guy’s on top of you, tickling you innocently? Not even fucking noticing that you’re so aroused you’re getting hard as fucking diamonds? What the fuck was wrong with him?
The Batter just stares down at Zacharie’s obvious bulge, expression unreadable, as per usual.
God, he really fucked it now, didn’t he? And just when he thought The Batter might be beginning to finally tolerate him. He’s gone and undone it all.
Zacharie murmurs, “I-I’ll just, tuh, g-get outta your way,” moving his body out from under The Batter.
Hands that had been still upon his sides snap down suddenly, pressing enough to hurt and make Zacharie whine, his erection in his pants stimulated as The Batter ruts his hips forward only on instinct to ensure that Zacharie doesn’t leave. When he hears Zacharie moan loudly, though, The Batter tilts his head slightly, twisting the toothpick in his mouth to the other side as he chuckles darkly.
“No,” The Batter rumbles deep in his chest, running a hand up Zacharie’s side towards his collarbone, “don’t you want to have some fun, Zacharie?”
Zacharie won’t lie, sauntering around all the Zones looking for something even remotely mentally stimulating after The Batter had turned the whole world OFF was pretty damn boring. No more drugged-up Elsen, no more fearsome monsters, no more Gods or Goddesses; only The Judge remained other than them two, and even then the cat rarely popped up to say hello before inevitably disappearing back to wherever he went. Pretty damn lonely, so Zacharie tried to stick with The Batter whenever possible, doing pretty well at holding up some one-way conversation that very occasionally morphed two-ways.
They’d played more games of baseball with just two or three people than Zacharie could ever care to recall, had talked about perhaps every comfortable, conceivable topic on Earth, had seen every single nook and cranny in every single barren Zone. Zacharie had started taking up hobbies like drawing just to pass the endless time, is proud to say he thinks he’s gotten pretty good at it in the weeks, months, maybe years that they’ve been here in limbo.
It’s not a terrible existence, per say, but it certainly could use some more fun, yes.
So with a smile that reveals itself as The Batter tugs his mask up and off his face, he says, “Yes, I’d love to have some fun with you, Batter.”
The Batter smiles easily above him, automatic at the sight of his face that he so rarely gets to see. It was one of the few things the guy had seemed truly interested in, so Zacharie relented his anonymity one day when he was bored out of his fucking mind, removing his mask to reveal his face.
And what a face it was.
Perfectly fucking normal.
Maybe a bit more on the square side for a face, a smaller nose, but other than that, pretty damn normal.
The Batter secretly thinks it’s adorable.
The Batter puts the kitty mask on the grass above him, slides his hand back down from Zacharie’s neck to his sweater all the way down to the very oversized end of it at his mid-thighs, pinching the wrinkled hem of it at the very bottom. Zacharie’s boner is obvious through the black cotton of his stretchy pants, even through the knitted fabric of his thick white sweater, creating a little bump clear as day at his crotch, right about where a dick probably should be.
“Are you ready?”
Zacharie gulps, feels The Batter’s firm hand still glued to his side press down a little. “I’ve been ready for eternity, Batter. Just do it already.”
The Batter simpers a small chuckle, tugs Zacharie’s sweater up over his hip bone and then to his stomach, revealing not only his still-clothed erection but some of his pale skin at the waist, fleshy and soft-looking.
So The Batter drops the hem, runs his calloused fingers over Zacharie’s bare flesh, confirming that why, yes, it is indeed rather soft and supple, giving easily under his nails. He swirls his fingers slightly too high to Zacharie’s side, and the merchant starts to giggle quietly. Very ticklish indeed.
He moves his hand back down, lets his index finger run under his pants and underwear, against more skin yet to be revealed.
The Batter pauses there, and with a twitch of his dick still straining in his attire, Zacharie tosses his head on the ground, scoffing, “Oh, come on, Batter. I know we’ve still got eternity yet to go, but you can hurry it along a little!”
The Batter snickers, tugging his pants and boxers down past his hip at one side, drawing the attire carefully up in a tent to slide to the other end so he won’t dare grace Zacharie’s privates, not yet. Fucking tease.
He slowly pulls the other side down to match the one before, revealing inches of milky skin until the V of his crotch almost meets, the peak of his erection finally free to the air and making itself visible as a smooth prick, flushed a cherry red at the very end with blood, hard with need and leaking tiny drops of clear precum from the slit.
The Batter’s smile humbles itself some, eyes becoming dark with something, continuing to slide the two layers of clothing down to reveal more slender shaft, smooth with only the slightest of veins running through its surface. Down, down, past the base of his cock, over his tight balls, revealing the crease of his fatty thighs pressing together in nervous excitement.
The clothing snaps down softly on his skin as The Batter removes his fingers blindly, too busy staring at Zacharie’s pale skin, his beautiful cock. Gorgeous.
The Batter brings his hand up to just below his mouth, Zacharie watching him with a mixture of awe and confusion.
“Normally,” The Batter begins, looking to Zacharie lying still on the grass, “I do this with the other hand. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
Zacharie grimaces at the sound of him spitting a mouthful of saliva into his cupped palm, staring as he quickly moves his hand down to smear the liquid on Zacharie’s cock and it clicks in the merchant’s head.
Zacharie keens, arching his back and pulling at weeds while The Batter wraps a firm hand around his cock, his spit making the movement an easy glide, up, down, up, down, from head to base, saliva dripping down his shaft alongside the precum that already leaks from his slit, sliding down his balls and pooling between his shaking thighs.
“Oh, oh, God, yessss,” Zacharie whines, feeling his cock throb in The Batter’s sure hand. God, how many times had he dreamt of this exact moment? And here he was, laying on the ground getting a handy from the hero-monster-obsessed-with-purification himself, and it felt better than all those fantasies combined, fucking easily.
He’s never been touched hardly anywhere before, just some pats from Elsen or a few yanks on his arm by The Batter when he refused to move to yet another new fucking Zone, so now, right now, these touches on his cock don’t just seem other-wordly, they seem fucking impossible, incomprehensible, mind-blowing. His own hand quickly getting him off in the relative safety of some room before The Batter came looking for him? That was one thing, but this? The fucking Batter’s rough, huge hand running up and down his cock, tracing his veins and pushing into his skin just right? It was fucking perfection.
The Batter elects to pay special attention to Zacharie’s cockhead on one swift pass up, swirling his thumb around the slick, reddened glans and pressing the very tip of his nail to his slit, just enough to push against it so he could feel it. And Zacharie certainly does, bucking his hips so The Batter’s hand slides down to his foreskin, a spurt of cum leaking up from his slit.
The Batter’s other hand moves down with Zacharie’s sudden movement, and The Batter looks at it for a second before throwing on a shit-eating-grin.
How could he let such a good opportunity go to waste?
Zacharie’s moans turn to strangled laughter when he feels The Batter’s fingers dig into the curve of his waist once again, thankfully not as intense for his other hand jacking him off, but, oh yeah, he was jacking him off, so suddenly it might be worse. Every breath is a loud sound, the sounds a mix between choked giggles and ragged moans of liquid pleasure, The Batter concentrating hard to keep up the separate motions reliably at once, Zacharie’s noises spurring him on to keep trying.
The noises could be even better though, The Batter thinks.
So he removes his hand, Zacharie purring a moan of comfort that he’s not going to tickle him anymo– and there it fucking is again.
This time, he cackles, the sound breaking into a whine of pleasure midway through, The Batter’s rough fingers having snaked up the inside of his soft sweater to now play directly with his lucious skin, the direct contact of his rounded nails making the tickling one-thousand fucking times worse somehow.
Zacharie’s really writhing now, ass shifting from side to side so it both helps and hurts The Batter’s attempts to jack him off, making it hard to catch him but also moving his cock in his hand on its own, getting himself off on accident. Zacharie moan-laughs, wanting to say so much but finding it dies on his tongue the second he starts to form a consonant, a guffaw replacing it. He’s close, so close, but he can’t fucking tell him–
But of course The Batter already knows, can see the beads of precum turning white with sperm, leaking like a tap from his flushed cockslit, and so roams his other hand to Zacharie’s chest, cupping his nonexistent tit to pull at the hard nipple there, still tickling the flesh of his breast around it. It’s not quite as bad, but Zacharie’s already been having trouble breathing from moaning and sexual arousal, the exertion of thrashing his body.
His vision swims before him, both from asphyxiation and familiar tears starting up again, uncontrollable moans and laughter falling from his mouth before he can even think to stop it—not that he can think much at all at this point.
His lungs burn, struggling to catch air again, leaving him in a breathless euphoria, pleasure unbelievable as The Batter pumps him hard and fast, twisting his nipple. He’d scream Batter’s name but he’s, of course, completely fucking unable to at the moment.
With one last firm tug down to the base of his cock, Zacharie cums, crying out loud enough it echoes off the twisted metal that surrounds them, rippling across the waves of the ocean nearby, jets of warm cum shooting from his cock to land back on his cockhead, lining The Batter’s hand still pumping him slowly through orgasm, all over his naked stomach and his pale sweater, dotting the red heart at the centre of it.
His actual heart hammers in his chest as he comes down easily, The Batter rubbing him softly, sweetly so as to not overstimulate before withdrawing, leaving his sweater rumpled around his waist, pulling his hand up around his softening cock to collect the spit and semen coating it.
Zacharie pants, finally catching his breath and rejoining the real world in absolute bliss, wiping the tears from his eyes to watch The Batter inspect his hand almost curiously, innocently. It’s absolutely covered in Zacharie’s sperm, white and creamy on his skin.
Well, it would be a waste to just wipe it on the grass, wouldn’t it?
Zacharie literally gasps when The Batter licks a great swipe through the cum on his hand, leaving a glossy white streak on the pink of his tongue for a moment before he swallows it all down.
“Oh my God…”
The Batter licks his lips, tilting his head at Zacharie. “ ‘S actually pretty good.”
“Oh my God…”
The Batter grins, looking up to Zacharie while he cleans his hand of his cum.
“I’m gonna fucking die, Batter. You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
“Well,” The Batter says before he pops one last finger into his mouth, humming in apparent delight just to make Zacharie groan, “we need to get you to a dry cleaner now.”
Zacharie looks down at his body when The Batter begins to move off of it, seeing the sheer amount of cum he’d managed to mess all over his clothes and flesh. Well, he can’t disagree.
Instead, though, he just sits up dizzily on his haunches, wiggling to snap his undergarments and pants back over his softened cock. “That can wait,” he grins toothily.
“What, you want to ride the rollercoaster again?” The Batter asks, waving behind him in the general direction of the giant swirl of steel, the kingpin of the amusement park they’d found themselves in for now.
“Nah,” Zacharie giggles, leaning up towards The Batter’s thin lips, liking the idea that he gets to kiss them now. Oh God, were they dating now? Whatever, he could worry about that later. “I wanna ride something else.”
The Batter raises a brow. “Really?”
Zacharie sputters, blushing even more than he was already, “Uh, actually, m-maybe not. Need to prepare, mentally, for that,” Zacharie murmurs, twiddling his fingers before thrusting one into the air, a triumphant expression as he yells, “But I can suck you off!”
The Batter laughs from his spot sat right next to the merchant. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“Mhm,” Zacharie hums, crawling to sit right in front of him before he stops, tilting his head as he asks with wide eyes, “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”
“Like, why are you actually showing emotion?”
The Batter chuckles. “Got boring not to.” He leans forward, toothpick pressing into Zacharie’s plump lips. “And I am ticklish, I’m just very good at hiding it.”
Zacharie grins. “I am so going to use that against you later,” he whispers. “But, for now!” he announces, hands going to undo The Batter’s metal belt with sly eyes, “I’m gonna make you drop that toothpick from moaning so damn hard.”
There’s a glint in The Batter’s eyes as he says, “I’d like to see you try.”
Zacharie throws his belt to the side, right over his mask still lying on the grass, moves to unzip his pants, glaring right into his eyes as he mutters, “I do love a challenge…”