The Circus Act
Summary: Tricks and magic are always a staple in a circus act. KisaIta
Kisame was terrified to move. He had not even bothered to open his eyes… yet. He knew, eventually, he would have to open them; because, eventually, the reason his arm was numb and the reason his nose tickled with the scent of smoke would eventually awake.
Kisame could only hope that this one would not throw a vase at his head, like his last one night stand. She had been slightly surprised when she found herself in her own bed with a rather blue skinned individual.
It really had not been his fault, for his strange skin condition, and Kisame never blamed his parents; it was not their fault either. Being nothing more than traveling circus performers, they never had the opportunity to find a cure. Beside, his skin's color was the reason the ring master had not kicked him out after his parents' accident.
All too soon, Kisame felt a forehead rub and a groan vibrate against his bare chest. The foreboding sense of doom was sneaking up on him like a bad horror movie. It was strange feeling the other's eye lashes brush across the bottom of his rib cage and twice as strange to feel a pair of tender lips slid up from his abdomen to his neck; directly below his left ear.
Kisame tensed, his numb arm prickling in protest. This was it. First, it would be a scream; and then, if he was lucky, the other would throw him back out into the streets. Afterwards, he would stumble back to the tent and pretend that nothing happened.
"Kisame, release me." The voice was soft, and confidently male, and one Kisame had never heard before. His eyes snapped open as soon as his name had tumbled from the other's lips. Oddly enough, despite the shortness of what might seem like a command, the words held almost a questioning air about them. Kisame caught himself staring at the silkily long black hair of a man who hid his face against the shark's neck.
A hum in the man's neck vibrated against Kisame collar bone and immediately Kisame's arm retracted from around the man's waist; how it ending up against the man's bare skin, the shark would never remember. Instantly, he regretted drowning himself in so much alcohol the night before.
The silky locks brush against the shark's nose as the man lifted himself over Kisame's body, allowing the lone circus boy to catch a quick gaze at a loved and bloody neck and the sharpness of a jaw that only a man could have. Then the man was over the hurdle named Kisame and limping towards the door that the shark's back was facing.
Kisame turned over, just in time, to see the door open; the light from inside revealing a bleached white bathroom and an angry bruise on the man's inner thigh. The door shut; leaving Kisame in a room with heavy curtains blocking out all the light except the couple of beams that poked out from between the stitching.
Now what? Kisame ponder nearly thoughtlessly. Nearly disturbed. Never in his twenty-three years had he ventured home with a man; normally it was only equally drunken women. Drunken women who, when sober, would scream in horror and demand that he leave as soon as they awakened. Never had someone remembered his name; much less not have a panic attack when they awoke to something abnormal.
What to do?
Better yet, why did he come home with this random male? Trying to remember what had convinced him only allowed him to find he had memorize soft gasps and gently rubs from the night before. Kisame felt his cheeks brighten at the recollections which left him wondering how one who bore deep bite marks could be so affectionate.
A small click from the bathroom grabbed Kisame attention; the door opened and closed too quickly for him to see the other as the man crossed the bedroom back to the shark. Within four seconds the man when from standing next to the side of the bed to laying his head up against the softness of the shark's neck. He hummed gently, his voice vibrating and his body curling up, touching Kisame's perfectly intimately.
Kisame's cheeks became uncomfortable warm as hands; cool as stones that have been smoothed by a silent stream, tangled into the nape of his hair. The heavy smell of cigarette smoke coaxed into Kisame's senses.
"Who are you?" Kisame finally heard himself whisper underneath his breath.
"Is that the question you really want to ask?" His response was lazy, but curious. Almost as if the man was playing a repeat of a game from his childhood and he believed this time he might win.
Kisame hesitated. Did he really want to know? No, that question would not win the game; it was a different question that would test his potential. "Will I see you again?" He muttered into the man's silky black locks.
Instantly, a smile coiled against the shark's neck and cool fingers yanked happily at the hairs at the nape of his neck. Warm air chuckled lightly as a gentle whisper mumbled, "Hmm, who knows what we are to see again." Then, the stranger lifted Kisame's arm and placed it over his thin hips; his lips slid up the shark's neck until they reached his temple. Pressure and warmth from sweet lips was all Kisame felt, black and red on a pale neck was all Kisame saw. "Sleep." The voice coaxed against the temple, "Tomorrow has not risen, yet; so sleep."
Kisame moved slowly, feeling suddenly drowsy, pulling his arm up the man's back until it landed on top of poised and tensed shoulders. Apply a minimal amount of pressure, Kisame pushed that pale neck closer to his lips and tenderly bit down the side of it. A hum vibrated between Kisame's teeth and man practically laid his throat against the shark's mouth. And even though, Kisame knew not another word would be spoken, he could swear that he heard the man murmur, "Please, do as you wish."
And Kisame was more than willing to comply.
-End-
Work length: 1,022
Date: 11/29/11