Emerald
by Collapse Overture
Disclaimer: I own neither Fudoumine nor Rikkai Dai. Though . . . I wish I did.
A/N: Whee, crack generators! Kamio/Kirihara. Prompt: Green. XD Emerald is green, so . . . it counts, right? Sorry it's not so good. I have no idea how to write this pairing. XD Enjoi!
He didn't want to be there. Actually, he hated the fact that he was there. But there wasn't much he could do about it. He was mesmerized. The boy's green eyes, fitting in perfectly with the emerald of the walls and entire feel of the club, entranced him to no end, and all he could do was stare. The sight utterly dazzled him, and he couldn't look away.
"Ne, Akira-kun," the boy that amazed him spoke, a small drawl to his voice that pulled him back to reality. "We should dance!" He steps didn't waver, not even in the last bit; but he drawled because he was sleepy - sleepy in a sense that he only wanted contact . . .someone to touch him and sleep with him. Though that was all he really wanted. Not a good fuck, no. Just someone to sleep with. That was the only explanation he had for enjoying Kamio Akira's company.
"No, Kirihara. I don't want to dance. Not with you." The voice was stern, hard, and full of annoyance. He didn't even want to be there. He'd honestly rather be home, sleeping warm and soundly; not awake, cold, and staggering from drowziness. That was not how he intended on ending his night. "I hate it here."
The ebony-haired devil grinned, leaning his head on the redhead's shoulder, clinging to the boy's long-sleeve shirt. "Please, Akira-kuuun? Just one dance?" Sometimes, Kamio wondered if Rikkai's Junior Ace was really even younger than he said he was. Some second year he was. He was more clingy than a kid! He and Kamio were supposed to be the same age, but from the looks of it, Kirihara Akaya was just another kid - albeit a strong, tennis ace - though still a kid.
"Fine, Kirihara. But just one dance. That's all. Then I go home, 'kay?"
And with that, the rhythm player allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor by the little devil that - he couldn't help but notice - was dressed as that of an angel. His clothes, although dark in some way, were shimmering in the green lights, making it as if he himself was glowing, as well as the fact that the light shining on the crown of his head made it look as if it was a halo. Kirihara Akaya, Rikkai's caged devil, was something forsaken by Heaven . . . and Kamio Akira couldn't help but be glad that he had agreed to go to the club with him. Maybe, after all, he wouldn't mind sleeping with someone instead of alone.
The boy whose eyes matched the club had him entranced, and he wanted to entrance the boy in the same way that he himself had been. And if getting into bed got him what he wanted, then so be it. Kirihara Akaya would somehow become his, just like he had somehow become Kirihara's that night.
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