Disclaimer: Watase Yu owns.
About: Implied yaoi. and if there's yaoi, there's shonen-ai. Duh.
I'm sure you'd know who's talking and who's being watched. If you don't, either I'm a bad writer, or you haven't watched FY yet. S/he and His/her were used so you could choose which you'd want to use. Frankly, I still use She and Her and.. Queen.
Firecracker
He doesn't know what he's doing here.
Contrary to popular belief, masochism has never been his thing; he's had enough pain for a lifetime. No use in getting it all tangled together with whatever small pleasure he can feel.
The cigarette from the Miko's world, feels wrong somehow in his hand tonight. It feels slim and insubstantial in his fingers, not with its usual weight and gravity. It rests between his fingers, smoke curling through the black night, stinging his eyes; feeling as if the slightest wind will tumble it from his hands. He raises it to his mouth and his lips close around it, self-conscious; he remembers the first time. Years ago; violet hair and knowing eyes and 'fuck it, we're probably all going to be dead in a few months anyway'; feeling the smoke torch his throat and sear his lungs. He remembers the cool, ashy taste of his mouth after; cold stones under his shoulder; cool ashy taste and a warm, wet mouth, engulfing him, devouring him, making him see stars.
He remembers the heavy weight of his cock on his tongue; the cigarette closed between his lips nothing like it but somehow bringing it back.
He drops the cigarette, not bothering to stub it out, watching it burn on the stone between his feet.
He doesn't know what he's doing here. He doesn't want to be. What if they saw him? What would he say? I'm the Emperor, he thought. I have the right to go around my palace.
He looked at them tonight and remembered being a little boy; getting whatever he wanted. Anything and everything, or nothing at all. He always got whatever he wanted. But at a price. Either his advisor's, or someone else's, but always a price. Sometimes he feels like he's still paying it.
He looked at them tonight; s/he in the white and he in the black, red hair and laughing eyes, violet hair and glowing eyes and thought 'they can do whatever they want.' For no price at all; the world will fall at their feet and supplicate.
The King and Queen, right there, right behind him now, granting an audience to their loyal subjects. It seems right, somehow, because the King is the leader of the bandits, and the Queen is..was easily the most beautiful in the Harem.
He knows what the Queen looks like on his/her knees.
The thought brings a smirk to his lips and he lights another cigarette, inhaling deeply and not thinking about the flimsy weight on his tongue. He wonders if the Queen still inhales this cigarette; if his cock feels heavy on the Queen's tongue.
He doesn't know what he's doing here.
Nuriko. And Hotohori - Kiss me slow and softly make me dream of you.