They were cuddled up on Kirby's bed together, and Meta was reading him a bedtime story. Just when Meta had finished, closed the book, and set it on the bedside table, Kirby pushed his mask out of the way and kissed him. Meta didn't resist. When they kissed it was always closed-mouth and short, so Meta expected no different this time. But when he tried to pull away, Kirby grabbed his face and continued, parting his lips slightly and forcing the other's to do the same. Meta's face lit up like a Christmas tree. This type of kissing...he couldn't explain it. The other kind was nice, this kind was almost..pleasurable. Kirby was insistent, desperate even. Meta responded, heart racing, eyes falling shut.
And then Kirby added his tongue into the mix. At first their tongues just touched, but soon Kirby was pressing it up against Meta's, and then he just downright swiped it over his. He'd never tasted Kirby before; he'd always imagined him to taste like bubblegum. But this was completely different than he'd expected. It was definitely sweet, but also hot and mixed with a taste he couldn't define. He wanted to ravish all of it. He attacked Kirby's tongue with his own. Stopping to pant, diving back in for more of that delicious mouth, hearing Kirby let out little noises, feeling Kirby's grip on him tighten, feeling Kirby's body heat rising. He was hungry for him. Like a craving, an addiction.
He couldn't stop. He couldn't allow him to breathe until he was satisfied.
After a while, Meta slowed down, struggling to get control of himself. He looked at Kirby. The star warrior's cheeks were redder than he'd ever seen them, eyes glazed over, trying to catch his breath. He looked about ready to pass out.
A jolt went through him at the sight. He felt so guilty all of a sudden. Kirby had given him a simple gesture, and Meta had lost himself. He was disgusted with himself. Disgusted that he had reduced the star warrior to this. Disgusted that he liked it. Disgusted that he wanted to do it again.
Kirby blinked rapidly a few times, appearing to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He smiled warmly up at Meta Knight.
"Poyo?"
Meta slipped the mask back on his face.
"Goodnight, Kirby."
He threw his cape over his shoulders and headed for the door.
He was almost gone when he heard Kirby let out a whimper. He turned to find Kirby crying, tears sliding down his round face.
He sighed and turned back.
"You want me to stay here?" he asked.
Kirby nodded, patting the spot next to him on the bed.
Meta Knight removed his mask and cape again, and snuggled down under the covers. Kirby almost purred.
They lay there a minute, but Meta couldn't fall asleep.
With a blush on his face, he asked, "Did you like that, what we were doing before?"
Kirby nodded, letting out a tiny, "Poyo."
Meta chuckled.
"I guess...we could do that again sometime..."
Kirby sat up and looked at him, excitement sparkling in his eyes.
"Poyo!"
They both laid back down.
The only other question Meta had was: where did Kirby learn to do all that?
He decided he didn't want to know.
