So here is my take on some classic Terrorist. I hope you enjoy.

This piece is dedicated to Cerberus Revised.

Eyes

A Terrorist Oneshot

By TheBlackFlamingo101

Shinobu's grey eyes wearily stared at the glowing screen of the TV that cast flickering shadows in the dim apartment. The sound was low, but he continued to watch the game show that was on in silence. But as the last of the sunlight faded and the room grew dark, he switched it off with a sigh. He didn't have to look at the clock to know it was late, as he could feel his breaths getting heavy with yawns. Even still, he lingered on the couch for awhile, a small scowl perched upon his lips.

The teen crossed his arms and sat defiantly in protest to his sleepiness, but after nodding off once or twice, he finally gave in. Getting up, he headed down the hallway into the bedroom, and shivered as he opened the door.

"Crap," he muttered to himself as he saw the window wide open. The room had been a little warm earlier so he'd let in some fresh air, but now the cold night wind was howling in its place. Shinobu crossed the room and deftly shut it, clamping his jaw together to stop his teeth from chattering. He turned up the thermostat, but knew that it would be awhile before it kicked on, and decided to make other arrangements. Digging in his dresser, he found a t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants and hurriedly changed clothes. He then went over to the bed, but wrinkled his nose at the thought of its cold embrace. Tonight there would be no one else in there, so he would need a little more insulation.

Going over to the closet on the other side of the room, he dug through his clothes and pulled out an overlarge grey cardigan that matched his eyes. The garment was very much out of place in his closet, but for the first time that day a smile curled his mouth as he brought it up to his nose and inhaled. It smelled of cologne, aftershave, and cigarettes, a combination Shinobu had come to love, because the sweater was Miyagi's.

How it ended up in his permanent possession was a story he recalled with a bit of a blush. One morning while Miyagi was making breakfast, a very tired and disheveled Shinobu had awoken, his body still tender in places from their couplings the night before. The teen was too lazy to get dressed and had grabbed a random sweater from Miyagi's closet. It was huge on him, going all the way down to his slender thighs, but he didn't care.

But the second he walked into the kitchen and peered at what Miyagi was making, he found himself the recipient of a wide-eyed, lustful gaze. Breakfast was postponed as Shinobu was bent over the counter and fucked sweetly from behind, followed by him riding Miyagi on the couch, and finally good ole missionary on the bed. That morning had been so unforgettable for both of them that even the sweater brought back memories, and Miyagi couldn't bring himself to wear it again—or rather he got hard the second he put it on and had given it to Shinobu.

After breathing in its musky scent again, Shinobu carefully put it on, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn't get in the way. He then climbed into the bed, shivering as he felt the cold sheets. Although a part of him wanted to damn Miyagi for being away on a business trip, he couldn't bring himself to do it. His partner would be returning tomorrow morning, but he had been gone for three days and the teen was starting to get anxious. Shinobu pressed his lips together, and wrapped his arms around himself, settling in for another night alone. But sleep didn't come so easily. Instead, his mind began to pace in slow circles about what Miyagi was doing, what he had lectured on, and if Kamijou had driven him crazy yet—or vice versa.

His thoughts even wandered back to a week ago, when he and Miyagi had gone out on a date. The two of them had gone to a book signing near "M" university and had been spotted together by a couple of Miyagi's students, who immediately struck up a conversation with their sensei. Shinobu had stood by in silence as they discussed some material from their classes, all the while itching to hold Miyagi's hand and lay some sort of claim on the man who so enthusiastically chatted with his students.

Shinobu rolled onto his sigh and breathed a deep breath. Hearing that conversation and realizing just how accomplished the man was had put Miyagi on a pedestal away from Shinobu. He was like an object, a painting to be admired from afar, a beautiful, passionate soul embodied in a quirky, intelligent man.

But that pedestal Shinobu worshipped Miyagi from also gave them great distance between them, and the teen didn't know how to breach it. He knew Miyagi was much older and that there was nothing to be changed about their differences, but at the same time, the fledging longed to soar with the eagle, wing for wing.

Shinobu ran a hand through his tousled honey locks and inwardly berated himself for getting emotional. It wasn't as though Miyagi didn't love him, in fact, the man had skyped him that very night whining about how lonely he was. The boy's lip curled into a smile and he snorted as he remembered Miyagi's "sweet honey" talk that had (for once) been directed at him. But still, at times it seems as though the fate Shinobu believed in was playing games with him, and with a solemn sigh, the boy went to sleep.

It was about seven in the morning when Miyagi trudged in through the front door to Shinobu's apartment, wearily setting his bags down and taking off his coat. He glanced around the empty living room, half expecting Shinobu to be curled up by the door waiting for him. He knew he should go back to his own apartment and change first, but was a little anxious to see his brat after a full three days and had come here instead. Besides, it was the weekend now and he was ready to relax.

The older man headed over to the bedroom and a smile quirked at his mouth as he saw Shinobu buried underneath the blankets of his bed. As quietly as he could, Miyagi went over and lifted up the covers at the empty side of the bed and slid in, settling in next to his boy. As if he could sense his partner's presence even in his sleep, Shinobu rolled over and scooted closer to Miyagi's warmth, and it was then that Miyagi noticed the sweater. A musing grunt escaped his mouth and he saw the overlarge garment tucked around his Shinobu, and he reached over and tenderly touched his partner's cheek.

"Missed me Bu-chin, didn't you?" He murmured. Shinobu didn't stir, but a soft sigh escaped him.

Miyagi leaned on one of his elbows and silently stared at the face of the sleeping teen, taking in his budding features. Shinobu was aging handsomely, and the baby faced boy that had confessed his love two years ago was turning into a quite a stud. Miyagi wasn't the only one to notice this either, as he frequently saw girls and boys alike surrounding the blond at school. Miyagi's face took on a shadowy tint as old doubts arose in his mind.

Would Shinobu be better off with someone his own age?

There was so much the boy had yet to experience, and Miyagi knew that he would do brilliantly in the world and use every ounce of potential he had. But was he holding this potential back by being with Shinobu when there was such a gap in their ages?

A sudden yawn cut off Miyagi's train of thought and he looked over to the blond, whose eyes had fluttered open.

"Miyagi…" Shinobu murmured with a sleep heavy voice. "What time is it? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Don't worry, I just got in." Miyagi reassured, reaching over and stroking the teen's locks. "Sleep well?"

"Are you kidding? This apartment is freezing." Shinobu retorted, snuggling closer to his old man. Miyagi smiled at the boy's sleepy flack and wrapped his arm around him. Within seconds of embracing each other, the two were exchanging soft morning kisses that steadily built up in frequency and speed. Pretty soon morning wood syndrome kicked in and Miyagi rolled on top of the blond, nibbling at his ears and sucking down his neck.

"Ohhh…" Shinobu moaned as Miyagi's hand slid underneath his shirt and began to smooth along his pale plains and budding nipples. And when the older man's hand slid down and squeezed the boy's rising package, Shinobu bucked.

"What do you say Bu-chin? Is it too early to play?" Miyagi teased. Intoxicated by his lover's long awaited touch, Shinobu merely nodded with glazed eyes and began to strip out of his pajama pants. Miyagi did likewise with his clothes, but stopped as he saw Shinobu put the fabled sweater aside.

"Leave the sweater on," Miyagi said with a lecherous smirk. Understanding, Shinobu draped it back on, buttoning only the first few buttons to keep it from coming off.

"God you look so sexy in that," Miyagi breathed into his ear. Shinobu blushed and shivered, letting out an enticing gasp as Miyagi began to nip along his neck and collar bones. His other hand reached down and encircled Shinobu's half erect cock, which he soon began to languidly stroke. Soon with every movement, Shinobu was gasping and writhing, and Miyagi smiled to himself. No one had ever been able to turn him on like Shinobu. Sure the boy was obstinate, but in the bedroom he had become very compliant, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the pleasure, and Miyagi loved watching him loose himself in its throes.

Despite the early hour, the older man was feeling playful now that he had his boy back in his arms and began to stroke Shinobu faster, all the while kissing him with a hot mouth.

"Miyagi…Miyagi…" Shinobu panted as he felt himself tipping over the edge. "I'm—I'm—"

"Hmm? What's that?" Miyagi teased. "You're what?"

"I'm…I'm coming!"

"Ah ah," Miyagi clucked, slowing his strokes. "You have to ask."

Shinobu bit his lip, so close to the precipice, yet he held steady. He and Miyagi had often played this game before, but Shinobu didn't like to always let Miyagi have his way. Seeing the teen fighting back, Miyagi held the thick base of Shinobu's cock and leaned down, enveloping the head in his mouth. Shinobu's eyes flew open as Miyagi began to suck, and his cries came out in howling wails as his ecstasy took him higher and higher.

After a particularly loud cry, Miyagi slid his mouth off and began to jerk the teen's cock even faster.

"What do you want Shi-bu?" He asked in a husky growl.

"I—I…" Shinobu gasped. "I want to come…Please Mi-Miyagi…Ah! Please let me come!"

"Good boy," Miyagi murmured, kissing the boy on the temple. "You can come."

"Ahh! AHH!" Shinobu wailed as milky jets began to spurt from his cock, coating Miyagi's hand and dripping onto his stomach.

After a few minutes of panting breaths, Shinobu lifted his gaze to meet a smiling Miyagi's, and what he saw in those dark eyes nearly made him tear up. In there was a gaze of a man who loved him, and Shinobu knew in his heart that despite all their tangible differences, their eyes were the same. He knew without a doubt that though their lives seemed incongruent at times, what they felt for each other was a union of the highest caliber, and that together, they could make those differences into complimentary traits that would bind them to each other for the rest of their lives. As Miyagi leaned down to kiss him, Shinobu wrapped his arms around the man, feeling the warm embrace of not just the sweater, but of his one and only true lover. And as the morning sun peeked in through the curtains, hope and contentment bloomed in the teen's heart.