War had been declared on Outworld, and citizens were preparing for the worst. Armageddon had claimed too many lives, so alliances were a priority to ensure a victory. All former allies were contacted to see if they’d be willing to fight for the greater good. This included the Earthrealmers who left behind strong ties of friendship in that realm. Every human chose to join the fight, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t distress growing in their hearts.
That was the case for the talented swordsman, Kenshi Takahashi, who considered his clan’s training dojo as his second home. Between the thick walls of the dojo, Kenshi spent hours training. One night, he brought along a friend to practice with and when they eventually needed a break, Kenshi sat down cross-legged to take deep breaths in a futile attempt to relax.
Kenshi anticipated this war not long after surviving the previous one. Multiple timelines had collaborated to defend their respective homes. With so many forces coming together, it’d be a miracle that harmony would be absolute. It was in his blood to protect the innocent, so he saw no reason to turn away from battle. Kenshi knew he wouldn’t be the only human defending Outworld, but there laid a pit in his stomach that convinced him things wouldn’t end in their favor this time.
“Wanna sip?” A-List celebrity, actor, & producer Johnny Cage waved a bottle of ice-cold water at Kenshi, gesturing for him to take it, but it was rejected. Johnny shrugged, and hurriedly opened the bottle to quench his own dry throat. He chugged down the water with his head tilted up, blatantly exposing his bobbing adam’s apple. When the blond finished drinking, he exhaled obnoxiously and placed the bottle along the wall.
“I believe it’s time we head back to mi casa,” Johnny said, “What do you think?”
“Not yet. We have one more round.”
“I was dreading you saying that.”
“We only have so much time to get ready. You should know that by now.”
“Oh please, you sound just like my mother,” Johnny rolled his eyes with an amused grin, then he plopped on the floor and extended his legs straight forward, as he wore a sparkling pair of blue boxing shorts with his last name sewed onto it. He leaned forward to try and touch his ankles.
The swordsman sneered, “You want to spar with me, yet you’re in expensive clothing that you refuse to stain. Tell that to Havoc and his minions.”
“Oh, those dicklickers? I’m not afraid of them.”
Kenshi stood up, “Bootlickers, idiot.”
Being called an idiot wouldn’t even make it in Johnny’s hate mail podcast, but it did have him examine his friend closely. He leaned on his hands and held back a perfectly crafted insult as he analyzed Kenshi’s face. The jokester was certain that there had to be a reasonable explanation behind his friend’s tight-ass behavior. After all, Kenshi was the most sensible person he knew.
“You’re letting that day ruin how you look at me,” Johnny said, “I could tell since we got back.”
“That’s not even on my mind.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve been so serious, it’s like I’m talking to a stranger,” Johnny got up from the ground with conviction, “You think I’m gonna die.”
“Don’t say that!,” Kenshi shushed, like uttering that three-letter word would strike death upon the superstar, “That’s not going to happen.”
“Because you want us to train until sunrise,” Johnny rolled his pretty blue eyes again, “I’ve been in the industry all my life. I know when someone doesn’t believe in my talent; they'll work me to the bone hoping I’d quit. Is that what you want, Ken Doll?”
“This isn’t some test of wills. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
It was Grandmaster Liu Kang who met with the humans about joining forces again. He said it would be wise for all participants to visit Outworld to meet with Empress Mileena of Edenia to discuss their battle strategy. So, Kenshi and Johnny ventured through the portal, and did just that. But as the meeting concluded, an attack fell upon the Empress’ kingdom, which left everyone scattered.
Kenshi was able to hold his own, defeating countless enemies with the help of Sento. However, he would come to find Johnny in Havoc’s clutches. The actor was limp from constricted oxygen. His effeminate face had muted into a pale blue. He stopped flailing his legs right when Kenshi spotted him, his will extinguishing and his soul close behind. The brutal commander shifted his eyes at Kenshi, who stood frozen at the scene. His disfigured mouth melted into a vile smirk, knowing that with just one more squeeze, he could end the lives of two men at once. But Havoc was caught off guard when a large set of fangs chomped on his shoulder. He roared in anguished and released Johnny.
It was Syzoth who had sunk his teeth into the enemy and dug in deeper as he was being tossed left and right. Havoc eventually tore the reptilian off his back and retreated with his surviving crew.
Johnny was carried to a private room in the palace, and Kenshi checked on him every hour until he woke up. Kenshi’s hearing had enhanced significantly since losing his eyes, which was an advantage in fighting, but not when listening to a friend’s rattled moans. That blabbermouth was the quietest he had ever been, but Kenshi would rather have his frivolous speeches over pitiful whimpers.
“I’m not a damsel in distress,” Johnny said, “You’re lame for thinking I’d go down that easily.”
“What do you want then? Act like I don’t care?”
“You could make love to me for starters.”
“Johnny…”
“You went celibate right after that brawl. I could tell because I’ve tried getting your attention, and you pretend not to notice. I could’ve had my dick on your forehead, and you wouldn’t even budge. You know how much it hurts to be rejected like that?”
Kenshi sighed. He recalled a memory when Johnny took the day off work, but all he seemed to do with his free time was roam about nude. At one point, the blond agreed to meditate with his roommate, but his way of meditating was forged in sin. His round buttocks would arch towards Kenshi while he did yoga stretches, moaning into the air. Nothing screams, “f*ck me!” more than that.
“It’s nothing against you,” Kenshi replied, “We just need to be serious until the war is over. There’s no time for fun.”
“No time for fun?!” Johnny’s eyes blew open, like what he heard was the most asinine thing in his life, “Having fun reminds you of what you have to lose!” The stoic fighter turned his back on Johnny, simmering in the emotions he felt back in Outworld. His skin sprouted goosebumps and he begin to sweat. On the other end, Johnny continued rambling.
“You don’t think I would’ve caught on? I lost one fight and suddenly you pretend you don’t know me.”
“You were going to die!” Kenshi snapped back around, “You were being strangled, and that’s something I will prevent from happening again.”
“So, you did notice. Syzoth told me he jumped in to protect me, but you were also there trying to help. I had some wicked fantasies when we got home, thinking about my sexy boy toys teaming up to save my life. But now, I wish you weren’t there.” It wasn’t uncommon for Kenshi to be baffled at the things the Hollywood star would say, but this was just too much. “You think I’m going to die because I look weak. That’s what this is all about.”
Johnny was disappointed in Kenshi for underestimating him. For God’s sake, the man survived Armageddon AND that stupid Hollywood reboot ‘Armageddon: WW3’ with the lead actor being so pompous that even Johnny couldn’t stomach him- he couldn’t decide which experience was more harrowing. Kenshi should know that he was resilient in body and mind.
“I never thought you were weak, far from it.” Kenshi moved towards Johnny again, their bodies inches apart. “I didn’t know how to save you. I froze. I can’t count on myself to protect one of my most valued friends. That’s my issue. I only want what’s best, but you’re too stupid to realize it!” Kenshi’s hot breath coated Johnny’s face. The duo faced one another silently, their breaths mingling in the air. Suddenly, the blond man let out a gleeful shudder.
“Johnny, I swear to God…”
“Yes, get angry with me Daddy!” A tent had formed in his shorts.
“How the hell are you hard right now?”
“I don’t have a lot to work with nowadays,” Johnny made a V-shaped arrow with his hands directing it at his co*ck, “Look at me! I'm starving here!”
“Don’t you get it? We can’t do that. We need to keep training.”
“Strong words for someone who’s also hard.”
The swordsman did feel the blood rush, but hoped it was all in his imagination. Aside from their sparring match, this is the closest they’ve been in a long time.
“Dammit…”
“You shouldn’t feel bad about what went down,” Johnny said directly, “I’m just gonna get myself into more trouble, and you’re gonna have to get used to it. I can handle myself, but on some off chance I don’t, at least I lived a pretty sweet life- wouldn’t you agree?”
As long as the celebrity enjoyed kicking ass, then the possibility of him dying brutally would be recurrent. Kenshi didn’t want to argue about stepping down from the fight. It wasn’t his responsibility to limit another man’s actions, especially when it is a courageous one that could save a timeline. Besides, nobody bosses Johnny Cage around- except in bed.
Kenshi’s face remained stone-cold, which irritated his friend. Johnny had seen that face too many times to count. “All right, one more round!” the blond raised his hands in defeat, “Under one condition…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!”
“You want me to f*ck you. It’s not a hard guess.”
“We don’t have to go ALL the way, but my ass is lonely. If I can just have a crumb of good lovin’ then I promise I won’t complain on the ride home!” Johnny was a natural at begging for sex just as much as he was pretending to be a suave alpha male in those romantic chick flicks. It humored Kenshi, but even more, it made his dick throb. Try as he might, the swordsman had needs just as much as any other man.
With all the chaos going on, and Syzoth being absent to tend to his people, it’s been difficult to get in the mood. But Johnny’s pouting face was so pitiful, Kenshi figured he could at least wipe it off with a kiss. He’d do anything to make that son-of-a-bitch happy. The actor did invite him to stay in his home after all. He said it was to have an extra income rolling through the door, but the guy was already stupid rich. Plus, the way Johnny tended to Kenshi’s needs was proof enough that he had a nugget of compassion.
Not to mention all these strange events were a great distraction from Johnny’s separation. He got divorced once things went back to normal- as normal as it could be- and the night of its finalization, he drank by the pool, washing his weary eyes out with swigs of whiskey.
Johnny could be an ass, but he was Kenshi’s ass. The kind of ass that was made for being bent over and spread. One that could take two dicks at once, as was tested roughly four months ago. The man loved sex, but he loved pleasing people more. He’d do anything to make them feel good.
Kenshi grabbed Johnny’s face and drove him into a deep kiss.
“Wow…” Johnny said when they broke away, “I finally got to ya, huh?”
“Not quite. Get in position.”
“Yes Sir!”
They planted their feet firmly on the training mat with their arms raised. When the round began, Johnny prepared to catch Kenshi with a right hook straight to his ribs- knock that authoritative expression off his face. Sexy as it may be, Johnny had forgotten how pearly Kenshi’s teeth were. He missed that smile.
The actor puffed up his waxed chest and charged forward. The resentment behind this punch was really going to make a mark, and a wicked part of him delighted in that. But the image of Johnny’s sparring partner vanished just as he was about to make contact, and his world tumbled. Kenshi dodged the move by shifting to the side and letting his friend crash to the ground.
“Nice one, Asshole,” Johnny said as he got on his hands and knees to try and stand up. Kenshi kneeled behind Johnny, placing his hands on his hips and nonchalantly tugged his shorts past his ass cheeks.
“What the f*ck are you doing?” Although Johnny’s words sounded angry, he couldn’t be more thrilled, “Is this how you treat the World’s Sexiest Man?”
“The fifth sexiest man,” Kenshi hovered over, “Fourth runner up.” Now that reminder made the celebrity miffed. Kenshi guided his hand to Johnny’s erection and held it gently. He then kissed the back of his shoulder, “and my number one slu*t.”
A restrained moan came from the superstar when Kenshi started stroking him, “Let me hear you. So I know you’re still with me,” Kenshi whispered. Johnny shifted underneath, trying to turn his head to look at the Asian man who he knew must’ve looked like such a dom in the position they were in.
It was bad enough not to devour him during the sex strike, with his sculpted physique and all. That pelvic line beckoned Johnny to dive past his shorts and seize his prize. Kenshi was never caught with an unkept face either; he was attentive to shaving his beard and mustache to a low graze, which felt soothing to Johnny’s skin as the man rubbed it against his flesh.
“Ohh yeah, that’s a good itch!” Johnny felt sharp pricks scratch between his cheeks. Kenshi had lowered down to the celebrity’s rear and pried between it to loosen up the entrance with his tongue. Pressing backwards, the blond growled, “Get in deeper. More to the left!”
Typical of a producer to bark out instructions, but Kenshi was grateful. It really helped target his focus on what would please his partner. With his hand still jerking off his friend’s co*ck, Kenshi pressed his face further inward; his sharp nose pressing right above Johnny’s rectum, taking a whiff of his extravagant cologne. “Mmmh yes, I know you’re hungry for this ass. Eat it right up!” the celebrity gasped gleefully when Kenshi removed his hand from his co*ck to spank him. That hand whacked him a couple more times before digging its fingernails into the meaty glute. Kenshi’s co*ck swelled hearing every detail of his lover’s cries; the light crackling of his voice tied and his brief inhales, gathering more air to shout into the room with. He only wished Johnny would take it easy on the dirty talk; Kenshi acted more on his thoughts when it came to sex, so roleplay wasn’t a skill he was good at.
“You’re gonna make me cum right on this floor, you filthy dog! God yes! f*ck me!”
There’s no way Johnny would cum this quickly; not after all they’ve done together. With a mutual lover that was born with unlimited stamina and two girthy dicks, all sensitivity in Johnny and Kenshi had been erased. So, Johnny’s endurance could withstand more than a tongue in the ass.
Kenshi replaced his tongue with two fingers, gently scissoring them around the twitching hole, “Shoot onto this floor, and you will be sorry.”
“You are not helping…talking like that.”
“You must keep your composure. Don’t give into temptation so soon,” Kenshi added a third finger, “It may feel good in the moment, but you’ll miss out on something greater.”
“Oh, I get it…This is all a metaphor for not dying, isn’t it?” Johnny teased, “Keep my composure? Don’t give into temptation? All code for staying strong in battle and not believing you’ve won till it’s over. You’re still holding back on me, my friend, and I am not a fan.”
Kenshi removed his fingers, “...No. That wasn’t what I was thinking at all-”
He felt his world shift suddenly, as Johnny wrapped a leg around his torso and flipped him to the ground. Kenshi let out an alarmed yelp, and Johnny swiftly tossed his own shorts to the side- leaving him completely naked. He sat on top of his opponent triumphantly.
“Seriously?” Kenshi wasn’t impressed with his sneak attack. He willingly let Johnny remove his pants, and now they were both nude.
“I’m just f*cking with ya, but I did mean that last part,” Johnny rubbed his cheeks against Kenshi’s stiff length, “You’re holding back,” the blond took Kenshi’s dick in his hand and adjusted it beneath him, so it was directly pointing up to his stretched hole. “So, I’m in charge now.”
Kenshi was amused by his friend’s impatience and decided not to fight against it.
“Go ahead. Show me who’s boss.”
No other encouragement needed; the blond slid down Kenshi’s hard co*ck. He carefully paced himself, despite everything inside him saying to claim the man right away. Johnny sighed inch by inch, the co*ck filling his ass to the brim. Before he knew it, he was completely seated on the swordsman’s lap, and when he gazed down at Kenshi, he could tell the slow entry had an effect on him.
“You’re about to cum already,” Johnny grinned, “You’re clenching your teeth. You do that a lot when you’re close.”
“S-shut up,” Kenshi thought back to the blood he spilled at Armageddon. The pulsating guts dropping out of stomachs, croaking groans from enemies as their souls parted from mortal ground. That wasn’t sexy at all, but that was the intention. The dark thoughts helped quell Kenshi’s excitement. Johnny studied Kenshi’s face though, and recognized when the man was too deep in his head. The blond raised his hips up and slammed them down, making Kenshi gasp. No way in hell was Kenshi going to try and drift off somewhere else. After how long he had to wait, Johnny demanded that all the attention stay on him.
“Cum all you want,” he rolled his pelvis, “I know you need it after holding back from me. How noble of you.” Johnny leaned over and held Kenshi’s wrists to the ground, his hips still working their magic. “You know, maybe I will die. ‘Cause your co*ck is tearing me apart. It feels even bigger than usual…Tell me again how much you need me.”
Johnny felt the words roll out from his tongue, and he couldn’t stuff it back. He hated himself for it, but this elated Kenshi. So, he really did understand.
“I’m not going to butter you up or anything,” Kenshi mentioned, “But our lives are too intertwined to be torn apart now. It would be unfortunate to lose you. Who else would pay for the house?”
“Wow. Well done, Shakespeare,” Johnny droned, “Take this seriously. I’m not gonna let you get up until you do.”
“Oh yeah?” Kenshi startled Johnny with a sudden thrust forward, forcing Johnny to lose control and slip away from his co*ck. The push slammed Johnny on his back, and Kenshi took higher ground again. The clever kombatant entered Johnny once they were settled and pushed his thighs apart to plow deeply into the co*cky bastard.
“You really need to focus on where you distribute your weight. You were so easy to flip over.”
“Don’t change the subject!” it was hard to stay mad at his roommate when he took charge like this. Johnny watched the dominant man’s hips thrusting into him, listening to the loud slaps as his balls swung back and forth. Kenshi found his sensitive spot, and all urgency for answers had faded away.
Their bodies were recharged with lust that laid dormant for weeks; it felt like a million butterflies crashing at once and building a huge knot that tightened in their bellies. Neither man had realized how long they went without speaking and solely f*cking their frustrations out.
Now Kenshi was positive that Johnny was reaching his end because he threw his arms over his head, and his nipples were so erect that they’d be perfect to trap in metal clamps. Johnny’s back had arched, and those precious blue eyes were rolling behind his lids.
But the biggest indicator? He wouldn’t shut the f*ck up.
“Oh yes, baby. Yes! I needed this. Drive it deeper in me. I’m yours. I’m gonna cum. My co*ck is so hard. It’s gonna spill all over. I never felt so good. You’re stretching me out. Oh my God! f*ck! Kenshi, baby, I’m gonna-” the eager man’s mouth was covered by Kenshi’s hand. This was a standard precaution for a night with Johnny Cage. He was used to his lips being sealed- whether it be with a hand, co*ck, puss*, or a ball gag. But a spark of inspiration hit the superstar, and he pulled Kenshi’s hand away.
He brought the hand down to his throat. This wasn’t a new kink for them, but given the circ*mstances, it may be too soon to play it out. Maybe he’ll push Kenshi too far, and they’d go home to practice being nuns again. Johnny eyed his partner, questioning how he’d take the suggestion.
It would be a lie to say that Kenshi didn’t consider stopping, as having his hand by Johnny’s throat triggered him. Havoc flashed in his mind; that contemptible being who threatened Johnny’s life. Kenshi didn’t understand why his friend would recommend strangling him after that incident. It’s so like the celebrity to push people’s buttons, never knowing when enough is enough, but then Kenshi thought there may’ve been some strategy to the madness. Maybe Johnny wanted to remind him that being strangled is something he loves when it’s done by the right person. Or he was being an asshole. Either way, Kenshi was too far gone to complain. Any apprehension he felt had been overpowered by his dick.
His fingers wrapped around the blond’s neck and squeezed, emptying the last of the performer’s vocals from his windpipe. Johnny’s eyeballs went white, and his throbbing co*ck worked overtime trying to fight back org*sm. The multi-talented celebrity wasn’t born to be treated like a rare China doll. He refused to have a rocking body and settle for just being admired. He had to mingle with people, celebrate life’s luxuries, and most importantly, have rough sex with his best friend whenever he feels like it. A little kinky choking wasn’t off the table for Johnny, even after his trauma, because Johnny refused to let it change who he was.
Kenshi laid a second hand on Johnny’s neck, adding more pressure. The flashing images of Havoc dissolved as all the primal urges that Kenshi repressed took hold entirely. He pounded Johnny’s sweet spot every single time with expertise. It was almost like they were never distant with how natural they thrusted together. Having Kenshi’s co*ck enter Johnny brought both the men to a feeling one would get when sinking in a hot tub topped with bubbles or having that first taste of a homecooked meal after returning from kombat. Their connection brought bliss.
The faintest of squeaks escaped Kenshi’s grip as Johnny’s body shuddered. Thick streams of cum splattered onto his abs. It seemed relentless, and when he was drained, a pool of sem*n snailed down to rest over his belly button. Johnny’s org*sm made his anus clench, pushing his lover over the edge. Kenshi gritted his teeth, his co*ck emptying itself into Johnny’s juicy ass.
Johnny couldn’t open his eyes from exhaustion, but he could feel Kenshi’s hands leave his throat, followed by a light mumble.
“Mmh…Where? Repeat the question…”
“You’re so out of it,” Kenshi said. He had apologized for the red marks he placed on the man, but Johnny needed a moment to come back to reality. When he did, Kenshi pulled out of him and grabbed some tissues in the restroom to clean them up.
After they got clean and dressed, the duo went to the car and prepared to drive home. That was when Kenshi said, “I never gave you a clear answer. Do you still want to know what I think?” The swordsman didn’t want to risk getting emotional earlier, confessing his true feelings while in the throes of passion. But now that they were physically relieved, it was worth a shot.
“Sure,” Johnny replied, placing his hands on the wheel, “I’m all ears.”
“I didn’t think I was going to like you when we first met.”
“No surprise there.”
“But I was wrong. I’m glad. With all that went down, it’s been nice having a friend. The others have been great too. We have a big support system. Like a second family, in a sense.”
Johnny drove away from the dojo. It’s mainly Kenshi that occupies that space, so any cum stains they missed shouldn’t cause a big ruckus. “I don’t want anyone to die. But you especially are a welcomed change to what used to be a pretty average life. Everything was so predictable before all this. I didn’t think I’d like being thrown into all these crazy situations…But I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“Yes”
“Pfft, thanks.” Kenshi leaned against the window, “You already know that we’re more than just friends, so losing you would be devastating.” The actor had his hands glued to the wheel, tensed up and jaw clenched. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore, because what Kenshi said fluttered his heart. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
“I can’t let you die, so I’ll make sure to train even harder to prevent that. If you’re going to work out with me, then I urge you to do the same. We are a team, and we’ll make it out together if we act like one.”
Johnny hit a red light, “I appreciate the speech, but anyone could have been in my position.” The blond felt his blood pressure rise, “That Havoc guy is like a steroid-induced Frankenstein, and I held out long enough to survive. I don’t think you recognize that, and you wouldn’t be so happy to be coddled if you were in my shoes.”
“That wasn’t my intent. I don’t know what else to say.”
“How about: Don’t die because I love you! I need you in my life. How can I go on without seeing that beautiful face?” The superstar was rarely straightforward with his feelings; he learned long ago that masking his emotions helped with the pain. But with enough practice, anyone could decode him. Sure, Johnny was talking “like” Kenshi, but those words had to stem from somewhere.
When you care about someone, you learn to trust them, and that’s all Johnny wanted. This was a grown man after all, someone with all kinds of life experience. Talking down to him was the last thing he wanted; the last thing anyone would want. Kenshi made a mental note to watch his words and speak to Johnny like he was competent. As was displayed in the last war, Johnny could hold his own, and one downfall didn’t define him. Nothing is promised, and things could still end tragically, but for the sake of their relationship Kenshi decided to take the risk and trust that everything will be okay.
Kenshi smiled softly, knowing that he wasn’t the only one enamored by a fool, “Looks like I need to be punished for bad behavior,” Kenshi’s dirty talk needed work, but it was enough to stiffen Johnny’s pants.
The light turned green, and Johnny sped forward, “Is that so? Well, I won’t turn down an opportunity to make you my bitch.”
“I’m going to show you exactly how remorseful I am; if you are so kind as to unzip your pants.”
Johnny chuckled, his pride returning in full.
“Let’s get home first. Then, we can slip into something more comfortable.”
