nealuchi | this body, this body holding me

Title: this body, this body holding me
Fandom: OMORI
Character(s): Sunny, Omori
Pairing(s): Omori/Sunny
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 922
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Sunny is running late, and Omori helps. Which would be fine if not for the specific way that he helps.
Notes:

Omori is never really gone, even now.

Sunny still experiences his dreams as 'someone else'. He goes on adventures with his bright and colorful friends, all a little older now that he's been able to mentally update their appearance. There are dark spots at the corners of Headspace, and Omori doesn't hide them anymore, but he doesn't set foot in them either.

He hasn't made any more attempts at controlling Sunny's actions… except the one time. And honestly, Sunny isn't sure if he just imagined it. He had gotten pretty drunk at that party, the one time he was invited to a party like that, and even if he's pretty sure he didn't intend to text his mother to come pick him up… well, it wouldn't be the first time he didn't remember somehing correctly.

…Anyway.

Omori is still here, but that's okay. In the daytime Sunny doesn't think about him much, and at night it's still nice to be someone else.

There's one exception that's just a little awkward.

For all his overactive imagination, Sunny has never had much success fantasizing while jerking off. Apparently sprout moles and jelly donut princesses are fine, but the idea of someone else willingly touching him is impossible to believe. Coupled with a self-loathing that makes his own touch unpleasant at best, and masturbation has never been particularly satisfying.

Today is an ordinary day. Sunny wakes up with morning wood, sighs, and considers the merits of taking a cold shower. It'd be less effort than dealing with it any other way, but cold water still makes his skin crawl, so… jerking off it is.

Ugh, and he has school today, so this had better not take too long… It's times like these that he regrets waking up so late. Grumbling a little under his breath, he heads to the bathroom.

Hot water on, pajamas off, into the shower. Sunny closes his eyes and tries to not think about anything as he strokes himself. It's impossible to forget that this is his own hand, and the undercurrent of revulsion is nearly as strong as pleasure-

Um.

He's pretty sure you can't just randomly lose feeling in your hand while standing up. And that if you did, it wouldn't make it speed up without you telling it to.

Sunny's eyes snap open. That's definitely his own hand on his dick, even if it's no longer listening to him. "…Omori?" he says, just barely audible over the running water.

"Hello." An echo of his own voice sounds in his head. "You'll be late for school if you do it by yourself."

While Sunny can't argue with that, it would have been nice for Omori to get permission first.

"Oh." Sunny's - Omori's - hand stills. "Can I?"

This is Omori, who hasn't caused any trouble in a long while, and also would be a lot more straightforward about it if he were trying to stab him. With that in mind, Sunny nods and closes his eyes again.

It's… a lot different, when you're not the one doing everything. Logically he knows it's still his own hand, and it should feel exactly the same, but the absence of the feedback from his hand makes the other sensations more intense. He doesn't know when Omori is going to stroke faster or rub his thumb over the head, and the suddenness of the increased pleasure makes him bite his lip to keep from gasping.

His other hand braces himself against a shower wall. The image of Omori beside him, his hand instead of Sunny's curled around his cock, appears in his mind, as vivid as any of his dreams.

He comes faster and harder than he ever has by himself, and the force of it nearly makes his knees buckle under him. Omori's presence lingers for a moment afterwards, before feeling returns to his hand.

Sunny has a lot to think about, but for now he focuses on cleaning himself up. He can't spend all of school thinking about his tulpa jerking him off. That would be absurd.

He absolutely spends all of school thinking about his tulpa jerking him off. At least he doesn't have a test today.

As soon as he's home, he throws himself face first onto the bed and buries his face in his pillow.

It never felt like that when he was doing it to himself. Maybe it's just because his hand was numb, but even then - it's not like he was imagining anyone else. The face in his head was a mirror of his. And he's not attracted to himself. Even people with a healthy self-esteem aren't attracted to themselves, and he's definitely not one of those.

What the fuck, actually.

"Omori?" he asks, grateful for once that he has the house to himself.

"What?"

"What was that all about?"

"You were going to be late." Omori says it like it's obvious, like any split personality would give their host a handjob in the morning to preserve their attendance record. Maybe they would? It's not like Sunny knows any split personalities besides his own. "I can make you forget it if you want."

"No," Sunny answers a little too quickly. "No, that's… that's fine. I want to remember." His cheeks heat up as he says it.

"Okay." And that's all Omori has to say on that, apparently.

You know what? Now sounds like a great time to take a nap. Omori clearly has things figured out more than he does, he can have the reins until dinner.