Drabbles 2014 Part 2
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Note: This chapter contains material originally published in February 2014
49. Views (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Izuki Shun)
Chihiro is eloquent and articulate in exactly the ways Shun has always tried to be, always wanted to be. The way he seems to do so much with just a few words is insane, it's like he's generations wiser than Shun. The one-year gap between them feels larger than it should; Shun feels like he's closer in age to his youngest sister than to Chihiro, especially in terms of maturity. It feels, more often than not, that he's letting Chihiro down. Chihiro doesn't start off condescending, but he expects more, he's somehow gotten this idea in his head that Shun is mature and should be making jokes deeper than one-off puns.
"You're capable of more than that, you know," Chihiro says.
"I still haven't mastered the art of the pun," says Shun.
"Well, then, perhaps you should give up?" says Chihiro. He turns the page in his book.
Shun sighs, leaning against Chihiro's shoulder. "I won't."
"Stubborn brat," Chihiro mutters.
He squeezes Shun's hand, and Shun refrains from making a pun here—but just this once.
50. Pillow (Susa Yoshinori/Aomine Daiki)
Aomine's lost track of the number of times he's fallen asleep on the couch and woken up to find Susa sitting on the floor in front of him, using his body as a pillow or a head rest. It's annoying and weird; Aomine tells him this and Susa just shrugs in response and tells him that it didn't seem to bother him while he was asleep. Too soon, he finds himself getting used to this, the weight and the warmth of Susa's head on his back or his shoulder, and when he's still disoriented and half-asleep he can reach out and rest his hand on Susa's shoulder. He'd never tell anyone, of course, because Kise would probably start spouting bullshit about deep connections and Tetsu would give him that stupid smirk and Satsuki would say something about how he was finally growing up and that's not really the point. It's something, well, kind of special, and he'd rather keep it between the two of them.
51. Boundaries (Himuro Tatsuya/Araki Masako)
There will always be boundaries between them, Tatsuya realizes, boundaries that can't be erased—because of the age gap, because they were once teacher and student, because of their fundamentally different upbringings in different countries under different economic statuses and different familial situations. Even though they're both lonely, they're both so used to isolating themselves and not reaching out that they're still lonely together. It's only a matter of time before they break apart, and they will mourn what wasn't and what will not be—but even now they're mourning what will not be because of their own stubbornness and self-sabotage.
52. Study (Iwamura Tsutomu/Sakamoto Kenjirou)
Sakamoto would rather nothing else than to study Iwamura, his absolute power as a basketball player and the warmth of his demeanor and the way he gestures with his hands when he talks. He's wonderful, enthralling, and he doesn't seem to notice it, always puzzled when he feels Sakamoto's gaze.
"I'm not going to go away when you're not looking," Iwamura says.
"I know."
He puts his hand in Iwmura's, fingertips barely extending past the edges of Iwamura's large palms. Iwamura pulls him closer; the rumble of his chest as he laughs is beautiful and Sakamoto closes his eyes. He supposes he can study Iwamura non-visually, too.
53. Cut (Mibuchi Reo/Hayama Kotarou)
Once again Kotarou's not being careful, and once again he manages to get a deep cut on his arm from scratching it against the corner of the backboard. Everyone's used to this by now, but Reo can't help but worry, anyway, and he refuses to let the team managers or Coach Shirogane handle the cut.
He scolds Kotarou while he cleans off the blood with antiseptic wipes; Kotarou whimpers and Reo tells him that he wouldn't have to feel so much pain if he just watched where his arm was in the first place. Kotarou won't hold still, even when Reo tells him he has to, but somehow there aren't too many problems with the bandage and his arm gets wrapped securely.
When he's done, Reo sighs. "Please try and take care of yourself."
Kotarou leaps on top of him and kisses him on the ear. "Reo-nee is the best."
Reo can feel his face heating up. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"Yup!" says Kotarou. "Roger."
"Now will you let me go so I can go back to practice?"
Kotarou loosens his grip but pouts. Reo kisses him on the forehead and he brightens up immediately.
54. A Little Bit Out of Season (Kobori Kouji/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)
Hayakawa bemoans the fact that their relationship started just after the holiday and now he's going to have to wait almost a whole year to kiss Kobori under the mistletoe. He's persistent and totally hung up on this, which is just so Hayakawa—Kobori doesn't know whether he should laugh or roll his eyes or try to tell Hayakawa that it doesn't matter, anyway (because it's not like Hayakawa's not kissing him whenever he pleases, already, in public and completely without shame). So he goes to the department store and buys a sprig of fake mistletoe on clearance and brings it to school, presents it to Hayakawa on Valentine 's Day. Hayakawa is overjoyed, makes Kobori hang it up on the ceiling above his bed because he can't reach it himself and then jumps on, pulling Kobori's face close to his and kissing him repeatedly. When he's finally done with this, he squeezes Kobori into a hug and starts shouting about how this is the best valentine ever. He's so adorable that Kobori doesn't really mind the way his ears start ringing.
55. Violent (Ishida Hideki/Haizaki Shougo)
Haizaki's a violent guy, knows how to punch and kick his way out of every situation, can cut precisely with a knife, has injured countless opponents on the basketball court. But all of that pales in comparison to what he can do with words; Haizaki reads other people and twists what he finds the same way he twists their basketball skills, to his own advantage and to their detriment, robs them of self-worth and amplifies self-doubt. He cuts right to the core in a jagged slit, wants to see the wounds he creates fester and the skin rot away because that's the mark he leaves. And no matter how many times they make up and restore the uneasy balance, Haizaki will destroy their relationship, destroy Ishida, over and over again, like an explosive ball of hate. Ishida's constantly torn between leaving him for good because Haizaki's awful and no matter how much Ishida reminds him they're there he ignores his redeeming qualities and staying because he's too damn stubborn to not stick it out and because there's still a chance somewhere that maybe they can reconcile everything. He hasn't been proven right, but he hasn't been proven wrong yet, either.
56. Blinded by the Light (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun) for anon
"Hiding it from her does nothing," Izuki says. "The illusion only makes you lose one."
Hyuuga looks like he doesn't know whether to yell at her for an inappropriate pun or ask her the right way to tell her. Izuki decides for him.
"Just confess, okay?"
(The sooner he confesses, the sooner he'll get over her, the sooner he might—no, she can't think that right now.)
"Doesn't she tell you these things? Like, in your secret girl talks or whatever? Like, who she likes?"
Izuki twists a strand of hair. "It doesn't really…come up."
At least, she hasn't told Riko about her own affections for Hyuuga, has wanted to keep their thoughts away from each other. She's selfish; she knows it. It hurts too much. Hyuuga says he doesn't like girly girls but then he chases after Riko, Riko who worries about her haircut and thinks about cute animals and wears short skirts on the weekend and talks about weddings and draws flowers in the margins of her notebooks when she finishes the lesson ahead of time (and she always does). Riko is so feminine, so obviously female, especially next to Izuki (too tall, always playing sports on the guys' team, chest so flat it barely qualifies as an a-cup, messy appearance, always treated like one of the boys) that she wants to cry sometimes. She will never be enough for him, not next to that sparkling laugh and that brightness, and if she tried she'd only compromise herself. It's no use.
At least Riko likes Kiyoshi, has confided blushingly in Izuki. Izuki can see what she likes about Kiyoshi, but is at the same time angry for Hyuuga's sake, because even though he's oblivious there's a reason she loves him so much. And he's willing to do anything for Riko and she doesn't realize it, and either way this ends will bring Izuki heartache and she can't bear it anymore.
"I have to go," she mutters and runs off, willing herself to not use Eagle Eye to look back at his face one more time, to capture it once again in her mind.
(-)
Mayuzumi nods thoughtfully, His hand is still holding his place in the paperback novel but his eyes are fixed on her face.
"You're like a shadow, Izuki-san."
"Hmm?"
"You're standing off to the side and if she's as bright as you say, she's like the sun. He's staring straight at her and away from you, and because of the angle you are directly behind him. He only has to turn around to find you but he's so captivated by her that he won't."
"So by the time he looks for me, the sun will have sunk? And I won't be there?"
He sucks in his breath. "Okay, that was a bad analogy."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He reaches across the table and tilts her face up. "It's his loss."
He's being so kind that her eyes start filling with tears, but he catches them before they fall with his thumb, brushing it across her cheek as her shoulders shake.
57. Showers (Moriyama Yoshitaka/Izuki Shun) for anon
There are advantages to Izuki's eagle's eye that include, but are not limited to, the way he knows when everyone's gone from the Kaijou locker rooms, even when Kasamatsu has nagged him to hurry up and he's had to reassure Kobori five times that he'll catch up later and he's fine, just trying to look his best for the ladies. He wonders if they really care enough to check his lies, but he'd rather them not know because they'd make a big deal out of it.
Izuki slinks in, hair still wet and shoes untied as he slips his bare feet off of them and pads across the tiles, shedding the rest of his clothes as he goes. He reaches the showers when Moriyama does, both naked and clearly ready.
The knob twists soundlessly; water pelts them at high pressure and Izuki shudders and grinds his hips against Moriyama's. His firm thighs and hard cock send corresponding waves through Moriyama's body; he threads his fingers through Izuki's soaked hair and tilts his head up, kissing his mouth.
He tastes clean, tap water and toothpaste and soap, hips still moving against Moriyama's and hands redirecting the water away from Moriyama's waist. Moriyama's other hand travels down Izuki's back, trailing wet taps until he reaches Izuki's sweet bottom; no matter how much Izuki works out it's still soft to Moriyama's touch.
Izuki whines into Moriyama's mouth, mutters something under his breath that Moriyama is pretty sure is a pun—and though Izuki's are quite clever, he's only got one thing on his mind now. He slips a finger into Izuki's tight hole, feels him shudder curls the finger inside. Izuki looks at him, face twisted into an expression that's awfully cute—and Moriyama inserts another finger. Even inside, Izuki feels so clean.
He supposes he was overeager and that he probably should have used lotion, so he withdraws his fingers and squirts some into his palm, watching Izuki's eyes as he rubs the lotion all over his fingers. He puts the two in again and Izuki squeals; with his other hand Moriyama fists Izuki's cock. Izuki's head lolls; Moriyama adds another finger and then moves them all inside of Izuki—he's getting pretty stretched out now.
Once again, Moriyama takes out his fingers and pumps more lotion, this time fisting his own cock with the oily substance. Izuki's already positioned himself by the time Moriyama's ready, legs spread and back to Moriyama.
God, that ass really is fine. Moriyama takes a second to admire it before he plunges in, reaching around to stroke Izuki's cock and then his balls. Izuki's whining and thrusting and doing all the work for Moriyama (not that Moriyama isn't grateful). Meeting his hips with Izuki's is easy; their pants and moans mix erratically with the steady pounding of water on tile floor and Moriyama can feel Izuki getting closer, cock pulsing under his touch, ass clenching around Moriyama. Izuki comes with a shout, back straightening out and spilling come all over Moriyama's hand and onto the floor of the shower. Moriyama pulls out and finishes himself quickly and comes onto Izuki.
Izuki's eyes are glazed and half-shut; his eyelashes are beautiful with the water droplets on them, almost picturesque. Moriyama leans back as Izuki cleans himself, enjoying the view in bliss.
58. Lack of Stealth (Aida Kagetora/Nakatani Masaaki) for anon
It's probably better that they didn't go to the club, because they could only get away with so much there, even among the noise and lights and people. They're both too noticeable; Tora knows he's just got this thing where he draws people to him (Eiji says he's loud, but Tora prefers to think he's charismatic) and Masaaki is incredibly attractive, even when he tries to deny it. He's even more attractive when he's wearing sweatpants and an old tank top, long arms tantalizing. He knows it, too, is planning on torturing Tora, but Tora will be having none of that. He waits for Masaaki to go get out beer and creeps up behind him and presses him against the refrigerator. Masaaki's bigger and stronger, but he gives in with an exasperated sigh and something muttered under his breath about Tora's one-track mind.
59. Openings (Imayoshi Shouichi/Nijimura Shuuzou) for anon
The first-year starter on Teikou is a forward. He's big enough to be a forward at the high school level, probably—in height if not in muscle. He's gaining, though, and he might just be on the level of Imayoshi's most adorable kouhai, even if he's not as cute. He's already angry, and not in the typically I'm-twelve-and-whining way. It's certainly interesting, and Imayoshi intends to know more about him. After all, if he's going to assemble a team of the best players when he gets to high school, this kid might be a good addition.
Imayoshi doesn't intimidate the kid (Nijimura is his name); Teikou wins. Hanamiya seethes; it's not attractive—Imayoshi pats him on the head and he gets angrier. Teasing him is so easy that it's almost not fun. Imayoshi has no time for that, quickly showering and dressing, intent on finding Nijimura.
He's not easy to miss, standing at the vending machine. Imayoshi slips up and puts enough coins in the machine for two bottles of Pocari, purchases them, and hands one to Nijimura with a smile.
"What's that for?" he says. He scowls; his lip curls intensely the way it did on the court when he was driving past Imayoshi.
"Congratulations on your victory, Nijimura-kun," Imayoshi says.
"Who the hell told you my name?"
"The rosters are publicly available," says Imayoshi. "Do you not know mine? I'm Imayoshi Shouichi."
He holds out his hand. Nijimura glares at it for a second and then slowly extends his own. Their eyes lock as they shake firmly. Nijimura still seems wary. It's a shame; there clearly isn't enough time to get him to open up today (the team will probably be leaving soon and Imayoshi doesn't want to miss the opportunity to get Hanamiya's opinion on a few plays that were definitely not executed well enough). At the very least he ought to make sure that Nijimura remembers him. Their hands are still clasped firmly, and Imayoshi pulls Nijimura's up quickly to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
Nijimura punches the air where Imayoshi's face had been a moment ago; he's quickly making his escape (and it was narrow; the boy really does have good reflexes). That should be memorable enough.
60. Banana (Koganei Shinji, Mitobe Rinnosuke) for anon
He can't risk buying a dildo and having his mother or his nosy sister find it; it's easier if he just uses something that he can dispose of.
Like a banana. It's squishy but it fits inside him all right, with enough lube, stretching him out but more pleasurable than painful. He bucks his hips up to try and move it in deeper, deeper—he wonders how deep it's possible to get it. With his other hand he strokes his cock; his mouth is open and panting. He jerks his hips again and closes his eyes. The door creaks and he sits up; it's probably another false alarm.
Except it isn't It's Mitobe. He looks at Koganei, at the banana sticking out of his ass, and then pointedly away, blushing. He backs slowly out of the room and shuts the door.
Koganei has never been more thankful that his best friend does not talk.
61. Snowman (Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou) for 73n
Midorima squeezes his shoulders together and buries his hands deeper in his pockets; he really should have known that a short walk in the snow with Kise would turn into Kise frolicking and building a miniature snowman. There's really not enough snow to make one and it's not the right kind of snow, doesn't stick together enough to be built up into any sort of shape. Kise persists, but it's a losing battle. He puffs out his red cheeks and looks at Midorima for help.
"I'm not wearing gloves," says Midorima.
Kise pouts.
Midorima sighs and takes his hands out of his pockets. "When this is over, we're going home."
He lets Kise hold his hand on the way back but only because he's wearing Kise's gloves and Kise's pockets are much flimsier than his. Kise's smile is almost radiant enough to melt the ice on the sidewalk as he chatters away about how cute their fifteen-centimeter snowman was.
62. Magic (Hayama Kotarou/Hanamiya Makoto)
Kotarou flops back onto the grass, dragging Makoto down on top of him. Makoto tries to smash Kotarou's chin with the back of his head, but it's too sharp and somehow he gets the worse end of that deal. Kotarou's way too damn skinny to lie on top of, anyway; his hipbones are digging into the skin Makoto's lower back and his ribcage presses uncomfortably against Makoto's shoulders. Even though he has a good few centimeters on Makoto, he's got to weigh significantly less, and it's always been this way. Makoto scowls and digs his elbow into Kotarou's side.
Kotarou appears not to notice. "It looks so much more magical this way, huh?" he says.
"What, the fireworks? I can explain the science behind them again if you'd like."
"Geez, Mako-chan, you're no fun."
Makoto rolls his eyes. Yet another instance of Kotarou really not getting it—like when Makoto bites Kotarou's lips, it's definitely not okay to bite back (especially not when his teeth are that sharp, holy shit) and it's not okay to hold him in a death grip when he's trying to fall asleep and it's definitely not okay to cry so much when you're practically an adult, or be this forward. He's like an overly-friendly cat, unable to tell the difference between friendly people who are going to feed him and people who are going to torture him. Not that Makoto's worrying about him or anything. But the only one who's allowed to fuck with Kotarou is him (not that it ever apparently has any effect—he's only ever made Kotarou cry purely by accident, like when he showed up fashionably late to a date and Kotarou cried because he was absolutely sure that Makoto had gotten run over by a truck).
Kotarou nuzzles Makoto's neck.
"We're in public, idiot!"
Kotarou ignores him yet again.
63. Sadistic Valentine (Imayoshi Shouichi/Akashi Seijuurou) for anon
"Well, the rose petals and the handcuffs are romantic, but I'm surprised you're not going to give me any pretty lines like 'be mine' or 'you're a sweetheart,'" Imayoshi drawls from his position, naked and locked to the bedpost.
"You're already mine," says Akashi. "And you're not very sweet."
"You wound me, Seijuurou," says Imayoshi.
"That can be arranged," says Akashi.
Imayoshi licks his lips. Akashi straddles his midsection and places a soft kiss on Imayoshi's forehead and twists one of his nipples. Underneath him, Imayoshi sucks his breath inward and Akashi nearly loses his balance.
"You mustn't do that, Shouichi."
"Really," says Imayoshi.
He rolls his hips and shakes his shoulders as best he can from his compromised position. For the briefest of moments, Akashi's eyes widen. His stomach clenches. Well, then. He certainly hasn't played all of his cards yet. His lips curve into a smile—well, it's always a bit of a challenge when Shouichi's involved.
64. Spoiled (Mibuchi Reo/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon
Makoto enjoys being spoiled, perhaps too much—he expects attention and praise from everyone around him, is unused to receiving less than a certain amount, becomes very obviously unsure when he has no one to prop him up with words of encouragement. He still has a hell of a lot of growing up to do despite his vast intellect, and Reo has to try very hard not to spoil him more than he needs to be spoiled—Reo gets a certain amount of pleasure from Makoto's pleased expression, but Makoto's not a cat (no matter how much he hisses and scratches).
He's awfully cute, though, sleeping with his head on Reo's shoulder, snoring softly, small hands relaxed for a change. It can't do too much harm to let him get away with this much. Reo tucks Makoto's hair back behind his ear and squeezes his hand; Makoto moves closer. Who, Reo wonders, is really being spoiled right now?
65. Mouth (Murasakibara Atsushi/Midorima Shintarou) for huongyukapham
When Atsushi deep-throats him Shintarou feels like he's on fire, the wetness surrounding his cock fueling the heat rather than extinguishing it. He yells some garbled mixture of syllables, all of his thoughts combined at once—even with closed eyes and held breath it's still a mixture of agony and ecstasy, undeniable pleasure and a burning need deep inside of him to be fulfilled. He tightens his fingers around the violet strands of Atsushi's hair; Atsushi digs his nails into Shintarou's upper thighs and Shintarou curls his toes. Atsushi drags his tongue slowly over Shintarou's balls and he's seeing stars again as Atsushi hums down the shaft, barely aware of the rest of his body anymore.
66. Tenth Heaven (Izuki Shun/Takao Kazunari) for anon
Takao's smile, while certainly not a rare occurrence, is infinitely beautiful and precious to Izuki. The way his warm golden eyes light up is captivating and lovely, no matter what he's smiling about. His laughter is even more wonderful, tumbling from his mouth like shooting stars (and being with him is a once-in-a-lifetime shot for Izuki) at Izuki's jokes or his friends' antics or the world in general. And his happiness is contagious; whenever Izuki touches him his face seems like it's going to crack in two because he's smiling so wide and he doesn't even care because he's already in seventh heaven (well, tenth heaven if they're going by jersey numbers).
67. Oral Fixation (Murasakibara Atsushi/Akashi Seijuurou) for bookwormism101
Atsushi is used to tasting things, and that is what makes his mouth so capable. His tongue roams inside Akashi's mouth, running over his palate and flicking his teeth in ways that even Akashi had not been aware of. His lips kiss and suck every part of Akashi's body in a different way; he rarely adds his teeth—he doesn't need to. Beneath the shallow exterior, Atsushi really is quite creative. He does, however, always bite the back of Akashi's neck, leaving an obvious mark every time. And Akashi doesn't mind terribly, provided that he makes a matching one on Atsushi's body that can't be covered easily. Because while Akashi already knows that he is (only in a manner of speaking of course) Atsushi's, the world ought to know that Atsushi is taken.
Atsushi doesn't mind. He gives Akashi that lazy smirk and cups his jaw in one cavernous hand, signaling his acceptance.
68. Whole New Game (Ogiwara Shigehiro/Mochida)
The years peel away like the skin from an onion, and in an instant they're right back where they were the last time; the frustration and confusion and tension and anger and indescribable things fill the air and Mochida can't breathe.
Shige can't, either; he's standing stock still and the difference in their heights is still the same and Shige still has a baby face and he still looks like he's carrying the weight of five worlds on his shoulders behind the smile that's rapidly sliding off his face. Does he still regret them? Does he still hate basketball? Is it Mochida's place to ask these things, to think these things, right here? Shige tucks a lock of hair behind his ear in the same way he always has and Mochida really wants to lean across the counter and kiss him over the cash register but this is a public coffee shop and Shige probably still hates him, still can't stand thinking about the memories of their time together, entwined with the sport he fears and loathes. Mochida takes a deep breath.
"A medium green tea, please."
Shige nods. Mochida hands him the exact change and his fingers brush Shige's calloused palm and Shige looks down at the register, away from Mochida's eyes.
"Thank you."
(-)
If he's anything, Mochida is patient. He can make this cup of tea last, can stomach it when it's lukewarm without a grimace, can read and reread the newspaper. He'll wait for Shige to get off, and if he's rebutted again then he won't have to wonder what if, the way he's been wondering these past four years.
He doesn't have to go after him; Shige sits down across from him, still not quite meeting his eyes.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," says Mochida.
It's 4:33 PM. Mochida has counted the minutes since they last spoke, since they last touched, since they last kissed, and as Shige's lips meet his he resets all of his internal clocks. The overtime deadlock has ended; it's time for a new game.
69. Preparation (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki) for anon
They cook together; despite Kouki's shaky hands he's actually okay around a stove, and he was the one who insisted they not have any servants in the house—and Seijuurou enjoys it very much. Neither of them can make very complicated dishes, but a lot can be done with a few simple ingredients, and most things are much quicker and even more basic when two people are doing them instead of one. Sometimes the back of Kouki's hand brushes Seijuurou's forearm when they're both cutting vegetables, standing closer than is strictly necessary—and Kouki blushes every time without fail. He's endearingly predictable, and Seijuurou teases him about it as they're eating dinner sometimes (after all, they're living together, so something like this shouldn't even count for anything). And Kouki's cheeks flare again, but he still meets Seijuurou's eyes over the meal they made.
70. Too Much Coffee (Akashi Seijuurou/Izuki Shun) for mjssvanny
Izuki sits at the table, bleary-eyed and staring at the blank screen of his phone.
"Shun, you've had three cups of coffee," says Akashi.
Izuki starts, pitching slightly forward before sitting up again. "Yeah, I think I'll go forth and have a forth," he says, yawning.
Akashi raises an eyebrow. "Your choice of words aside, that might perhaps be too much."
"My heart is hardy," says Izuki. "Besides, I'm not awake."
Izuki stands up and leans over the table to kiss Izuki on the lips. His mouth is bitter and unresponsive, even as Akashi runs his tongue over Izuki's teeth. His back begins to strain and he straightens back up. Izuki blinks.
"On second thought, I'm feeling more awake now," he says.
71. Bittersweet (Izuki Shun/Kiyoshi Teppei) for mmomoi
It could be bittersweet, that they're together now and only now, after Kiyoshi's knee failed and when they can't play ball together anymore, when they can't walk as far as they want together, but Izuki won't let it be. It's better to let go of the bitterness as much as possible, to acknowledge but not let it win, not let it drag them all the way down.
It's like milky coffee, sweet and smooth but with something else underneath—but it's easy to concentrate on the hollow of Kiyoshi's wrist, his light laugh as Izuki bounces more and more pun ideas off of him, the way he says Izuki's first name half-hesitantly, his morning bedhead and sleepy head, the softness of his mouth over Izuki's and his saccharine tongue.
72. Relaxing (Hayama Kotarou/Miyaji Kiyoshi)
Tropical vacations are a frivolous waste of cash, but if Hayama insists on taking Miyaji, he'll go. Maybe Hayama will go on volcano tours and do dumb touristy shit like that and Miyaji can relax on the beach with a nice drink in his hand and get a tan.
He should have known better. Hayama insists on getting up at ass-crack o'clock and dragging him off on hikes and tours and other excuses for Hayama to run around like a remote control car gone haywire while. His nose is burned and when they get back to the hotel he falls right to sleep and barely has time to shower and skips shaving completely. By the fifth day, he refuses point-blank to accompany Hayama.
Hayama looks devastated. "But why?"
"The sun isn't up and I'm fucking exhausted and I came here to relax. You can go on the goddamn tour without me."
"But Miyaji-san…today we're going to see the coconut trees!"
As tempting as the prospect of throwing a coconut at Hayama is right now, Miyaji shakes his head and rolls over.
And then he feels a familiar weight drop on top of him. "I'll stay with you!"
"You're awake and I'm asleep; you'll get bored," says Miyaji. "Go see your damn coconut trees."
"But I wanted to see them with you," says Hayama. "It wouldn't be the same if I was by myself."
"Whatever, I don't care," says Miyaji. "But get off of me, whatever you do."
He wakes up several hours later to Hayama curled up against his chest. When he's not moving and yelling, he's not entirely unattractive. The skin on his nose is peeling and he's smiling and his hand is clutched around the hem of Miyaji's t-shirt, which is fine as long as Miyaji doesn't need to go anywhere.
73. Six (Aida Riko/Akashi Seijuurou/Murasakibara Atsushi/Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou/Kise Ryouta) for anon
Akashi's the one controlling everything; he's the one whose lips touch her face, the jaw and the mouth and the bridge of the nose. His mouth is surprisingly warm; perhaps she shouldn't have expected his body to be as cold as his personality. Kise's hands are lightly drumming on her back and neck; he sucks the soft skin on her shoulder gently and murmurs things her ears can't quite pick up (they sound nice, though). Aomine tweaks and licks her nipples erratically, occasionally running his hand down her sternum or across her rib cage and making her shiver each time. Murasakibara's giant hands are working her thighs; he licks trails down one or the other like rivers and presses his fingers deeper than she knew her skin could give. Midorima, fingers smaller than Murasakibara's (not that it matters, really; they're still big) and far more dexterous, is teasing her entrance, brushing her clit, working one finger inside of her and then pulling it out, and this is perhaps the most unexpected thing in this whole series of events. He slides his tongue between the folds of skin; she weaves her fingers through his hair and grips tightly. This is a sensory overload, and she doesn't know how much longer she's going to last. But they don't seem like they're going to quite any time soon.
74. Sick (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo) for flutterizou
When she's sick, Reo is especially stubborn, absolutely refuses to take her medicine. She insists she's fine, even when the sweat is plastering her hair to her forehead but she's still shivering under the covers. Eikichi tries to force her down and place the pills in her mouth but she clamps it shut and rolls over onto her back and he's too weirded out by the whole situation to continue trying, so that as a method is out. Kotarou's no help and no one else wants to get near her when she's this sick, so Akashi supposes he's on his own.
The Eikichi method works no better when he's the one trying it; she still shies away, whispering refusals and whimpering as she sinks beneath the covers. He's almost tempted to give in to her—but she's really being ridiculous. She's pulled the blanket above her face. He places the gel caplets in his mouth, between his bottom teeth and lower lip.
"Reo," he says, voice unchanged.
She peeks out. He leans down, touching their foreheads. She's burning; he nearly winces. Their lips meet and he gently flips his lip, depositing the pills in her mouth. She pulls away, but not before swallowing automatically. She's already swallowed the pills.
"Sei-chan, you're horrible," she says. "I hate you."
"I know," he says, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Now get some rest."
She rolls over and buries her face in the pillow. He sits back down; he'll wait until her fever breaks. Her palm is turned up, out from under the covers, and he places his hand inside. Their fingers lock. He smiles.
75. Too Childish (Akashi Seijuurou/Imayoshi Shouichi) for anon
Seijuurou is such a child in so many ways, so used to getting his way. He's incredibly high-maintenance and it's more of a bother than a challenge for Imayoshi at this point. He can't feed the unquenchable ego and he's not enough to humble the boy by himself (and he doesn't want to have to be). It's a pity, really; they could have been something—both of them are intellectuals; both of them play their hands close to their chests, but Seijuurou overreaches and tears down boundaries that he really has no right to, breeds resentment around him. Imayoshi's not exactly a pleasant man, but he's careful; he's more subtle.
And such is the way of things. Seijuurou is cute when he sleeps, smirking even in his dreams. He really is quite small, and his cheeks are plump and he curls his body, tangling the sheets around him. Imayoshi adjusts his glasses. He might as well leave before Seijuurou can stop him, and he's already been more sentimental than he ought to.
76. Senpai (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Akashi Seijuurou) for anon
Akashi is such a little fucking punk. He's more of a brat than Midorima and Takao combined—maybe they're all members of the "annoying shitty kouhai guards club" or something, and Akashi's president because of course he fucking is. And if he thinks he's going to take the lead in this relationship—not that it's like that or anything—he's dead wrong. So everyone in his life has bent over backward to accommodate his selfish desires? That's going to stop right here and now if Miyaji has anything to say about it.
"I'm your senpai, you got that?" he says, aggressively biting a hunk out of his sandwich.
"Oh?" says Akashi. "I'm surprised you think that matters, Kiyoshi."
"You fucking didn't," says Miyaji. "Who the hell said you could use my first name? I don't remember doing it."
"I don't need your permission," says Akashi. "I am absolute."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" says Miyaji.
"Know your place," says Akashi, and Miyaji suddenly feels a pressure gluing him to his seat.
He glares daggers at Akashi, who continues to eat as if nothing is going on. There is definitely nothing attractive about that haughty gaze, nope. It's just bratty, that's all it is.
"Fuck you," says Miyaji.
Akashi leans across the table and places his mouth over Miyaji's. A few seconds later, he breaks the kiss and whatever hold he had on Miyaji.
"Don't use such foul language."
Miyaji's tongue is tied, but he can still collapse with his face on the table.
77. One Track Mind (Kagami Taiga, sorta KagaHimu) for anon
He tries to stop himself, but the thoughts are too tempting and he's always home alone and no one's going to walk in and stop him and he's naked on the bed after the shower except for the chain around his neck and he doesn't want to get dirty again but he feels an itchy sort of ache deep inside of him that he can't shake off.
He takes a deep breath, pours some lotion on his hand, grabs his cock. The lotion is cold; he flinches, hand loose as he works himself up. He's going to think about…something. Something hot, something that's not…him. There are more suitable fantasies. He's supposed to be thinking about women, isn't he? How about a woman with long, dark hair and smoky eyes and big breasts who wears lacy underwear? He can only picture vague things in his mind, certainly nothing that turns him on. He tightens his grip as he strokes himself; he's hard now.
He tries to focus, tits, tits, tits…it doesn't work. Tatsuya invades his thoughts, his dirty thoughts, the contours of his face in the late afternoon, the way he licks his lips to get off the extra salt from the fries and taking off his sweat-soaked shirt to reveal a chest that's way too pale for someone who spends that much time in the sun, muscles gleaming in the sunlight, back lean but strong. The shorts are low on his waist, Taiga imagines them falling lower, lower…he's seen Tatsuya naked before, of course, but even thinking about it in this context makes him blush. He tries to imagine Tatsuya getting hard himself, Tatsuya getting closer. He clutches the ring around his neck; he tries to remember the sound of Tatsuya's voice, the exact changes of pitch when he's excited. He squeezes his eyes tighter.
"Nn…Ta..tsuya…" Taiga's voice comes in short bursts.
Speaking seems to only further his fantasy; he moans again and feels himself come closer and closer to the edge. Again and again, he says the name, lets it roll off his tongue a dozen different ways, rolling it into a rhythm until it almost loses meaning. He comes in the middle of a syllable, voice breaking and hand yanking at the chain.
He lies on the bed, dirty and ashamed but momentarily sated. For a moment he wishes he had company of a certain sort—but in this mood he can suppress that kind of thought much easier.
78. Spill (Takao Kazunari/Midorima Shintarou) for anon
The hawk's eye does Takao no good when he doesn't use it; if he's focused on the person beside him he's not going to notice the gap between planks on the patio floor and he'll pitch forward and fall into said person. In this case, it's Midorima, and he doesn't get out of the way in time—Takao's head slams into his can of shiruko, tipping it backwards so that the dark liquid splashes all over Midorima's light blue shirt. Takao manages to steady himself by grabbing Midorima around the neck; Midorima almost falls himself but he manages to keep on his feet.
He splutters. Takao's not sure if he's more upset that he can't drink the rest of the soup or that his shirt is dirty. Well, no matter. The shiruko is soaking through the fabric and he's just standing there.
"Sorry," says Takao, and he hooks his hands under the fabric, feeling the smooth skin of Midorima's hips under his fingers.
"What are you doing?" Midorima hisses, flushing.
"You need to take this off," says Takao.
"We're outside! People can see," says Midorima.
"Oh, you want to go back in?" says Takao, quirking an eyebrow upward. "There's something you want to do inside, hmm?"
"Takao." His face is darker than the stain on his shirt now; teasing him is way too much fun.
"You're the best, Shin-chan."
He leans up to kiss Midorima, and he receives no complaints from that at least.
79. No Way Out (Susa Yoshinori/Momoi Satsuki)
At this point, Susa's got no way out. He's fallen too hard for her; she's too much of a kindred spirit for him not to. He's been around basketball players for a pretty long time, but none of them have approached the game with a know-everything approach the way he does; no one devours information and tries to analyze it the way he does. He reads every basketball magazine he can get his hands on, tries to commit to memory the stats of every professional and semi-pro and high school player, catalogues a list of plays inside his head, draws from that. Momoi is the same; she gathers data and analyzes it based on her prior knowledge and formulas that she still refuses to divulge to him, with stunning accuracy. By the time he realized he had fallen for her, it was too late, and she'd already known (the way she knows everything) and had ensnared him. Well, it's not a bad trap to fall into, all things considered. He enjoys her company, her humor, her intelligence—not to mention she's easy on the eyes.
What a girl like her is doing with a guy like him he doesn't really know sometimes, but he won't jinx what they have. It's infinitely precious; she's infinitely precious; her hand's half the size of his and her slender throat is the perfect size as it vibrates with the sweet sound of her voice in his ear.
80. Paint (Kiyoshi Teppei/Kagami Taiga)
The walls and ceilings are peeling, white flaking off to reveal the rusty lead paint underneath. They could hire painters, but they could do it themselves for a hell of a lot cheaper so before they move in they spend a day with just each other and rollers and trays and buckets and ladders. The fumes are disgusting and the work is tedious; they're sweating even with all of the windows cracked open. But at the end of the day, they've done it together, and even though they haven't moved any stuff in this place feels a hell of a lot like a home now. The paint is splattered on Teppei's face and he scrapes it off in the bathroom mirror (that needs to be cleaned, too, but that's a smaller job for another day) while Taiga watches, running his arms under the scalding bathtub tap. On the way back to Teppei's grandparents' house, Teppei won't let go of Taiga's hand and Taiga's embarrassed and his palms are sweaty but Teppei looks just too damn happy for him to have the heart to do anything like that.
81. Pulse (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki)
Kouki's resting pulse is slow and steady (of course; he's an athlete) but Seijuurou can usually only feel that kind of rhythm in his wrist or his thumb or his temple when he's asleep, palms unclenched and mouth soft and shoulders relaxed. When he's awake, he's jittery and nervous almost all the time—except, perhaps, when he's lost in a book and completely in another world from everything around him. Sometimes, though, Kouki can be calm, when he's just woken up and gives Seijuurou that sleepy-eyed smile and buries his face in Seijuurou's chest (and Seijuurou cannot stop his own pulse from speeding up just a bit). Kouki is at his best when he's at his most shameless, when he forgets his fears and inhibitions and just lets it be, and Seijuurou wouldn't have it any other way.
82. Cinnamon (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Mibuchi Reo)
Mayuzumi's like cinnamon, innocuous enough but spicy; he leaves Mibuchi's mouth raw and numb. When Mibuchi wakes up alone again, the spot next to him is faintly warm and smells like him; Mibuchi breathes in the scent and wants it to cling to him, wants to be sure that Mayuzumi was really there. He has a knack for slipping through Mibuchi's fingers even as Mibuchi tries to clutch him tighter.
"Stay," Mibuchi whispers; Mayuzumi's lying limply in his arms and Mibuchi knows he'll wait until he's sleeping to slip out and get dressed and go back to his room and Mibuchi will wake up at 5 AM, asleep and confused and lonely as hell yet again.
Mayuzumi's probably glaring, thinking he's an idiot because this is nothing more than sex; it can't even be called friends with benefits because they were never friends in the first place, but Mibuchi doesn't care because if he doesn't try he'll be stuck wondering even more.
Mayuzumi doesn't leave until the morning. He doesn't stay very often after that, but every once in a while Mibuchi will wake up with his arms full and a smile on his face.
83. Addiction (Furihata Kouki/Fukuda Hiroshi)
Furihata's love of books is like an addiction at this point. It's not like Fukuda's anti-literacy or thinks reading is boring or for squares or nerds; he enjoys the more-than-occasional light novel or science fiction novel. But Furihata reads voraciously; when he's not reading he's thinking about books, about characters and situations that don't exist. Countless dates have ended up with them at the library or the used book stores looking for new books; it's not like Furihata has read everything already but he's very particular about what kinds of books he likes; he sometimes picks up something after looking at the cover and then his mouth quirks down when he's skimming the blurb on the back and he places it back on the shelf.
Fukuda gets books down for him that he can't reach and carries stacks for him without complaint; Furihata always thanks him and apologizes but Fukuda smiles and tells him it's all right because it is. He's doing what he loves, what makes him happy, and when he's happy Fukuda's happy, too. And he's come to enjoy the quietness of the library, the soft sounds of Furihata's footsteps on the carpeting, the musty smell of Furihata's favorite book shop and the way the light filters through the high windows like it's a church. And maybe for Furihata, it is (but that doesn't stop Fukuda from kissing him in a decidedly inappropriate way, stack of books smashed between the two of them).
84. Photos (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)
Reo insists that they send him photos whenever they go on vacation (yet another item on the endless list of reasons why they shouldn't) and he bugs Eikichi every day about when he's going to get them, and eventually Eikichi gets fed up and pulls out his phone.
Getting Makoto to pose for a photo is impossible, as it is Eikichi's kind of worried about his phone ending up broken. He can try to grab Makoto with one arm and press the button with the other hand, which is how they usually end up taking their requisite picture, Makoto biting Eikichi's thumb and struggling and the picture being blurry as fuck and Reo complaining anyway, but it's never really worth it, especially if they have to explain to random, alarmed-looking people that Eikichi's not actually kidnapping Makoto or anything.
Makoto drinks too much red wine at dinner, the faintest flush appearing on his pale cheeks (he will always try to keep up with Eikichi despite their size difference; he never wins) and the slightest wobble in his legs—Eikichi wordlessly offers his arm; Makoto momentarily debates whether to decline because he's too strong or take it because he needs it and he chooses the latter, face haughty as he draws himself up to his full height and Eikichi tries not to laugh.
He falls asleep as soon s his body hits the bed, not bothering to take off his shoes or his suit and tie, and Eikichi seizes the moment, praying that the shutter won't be too loud (Makoto's a pretty heavy sleeper, though). He smirks at the camera and presses the button. The shutter clicks; Makoto stirs but his eyes don't open. Quickly, Eikichi types in Reo's number and sends him the photo.
A few seconds later, his phone lights up. Reo's text is short and, of course, complaining of something. "I can't tell where you are from this picture!"
"Tough luck," Eikichi types in and then puts the phone down.
He's done his duty and right now he'd rather just join Makoto in sleep. But first he changes the phone background to Makoto's sleeping face, cheeks pink and corners of his mouth turned upward. He ought to be able to keep it for a couple of weeks until Makoto finds out.
85. Zombie (Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga)
Kagami's a zombie when he comes back from LA and has to readjust to the time zone, constantly in a groggy haze for a few days, half-dreaming and he can't be trusted to do anything for himself although he tries to cook and almost passes out over the stove before Aomine relegates him to the living room while he finishes the eggs. Kagami eats them and thanks him and doesn't even complain about them being too spicy the way Aomine makes them like he usually does and by the time Aomine comes back from doing the dishes he's asleep on the couch and Aomine joins him and they both wake up sore. Kagami's clingy when he's tired, as if he's not sure he's awake and this is real, constantly brushes his hand against Aomine's knee and it's so damn frustrating because he's not awake enough to actually have sex and Aomine's especially horny because Kagami's always been away for way too goddamn long. And then Kagami wakes up after a few days and starts acting like a little shit again and trades insults with Aomine and Aomine pretends to wonder why the hell he missed him when it's even clearer now.
86. Perversion (Kirisaki Daiichi team, fem!Hanamiya Makoto) for flutterizou
Going over strategies after practice is difficult to say the least when the first string players can't be bothered to listen, instead directing their attention to a porn magazine lying open on Yamazaki's desk.
"She's not my type. Her eyes are too far apart," says Yamazaki.
"Dude, why are you looking at her eyes when her tits are right in front of her like that?" says Hara.
Hanamiya grabs the magazine and hits Hara on the head with it. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Oh, jealous, aren't we, Hana-chan?" says Hara.
Yamazaki snickers. "Rio-chan's tits are so much bigger than hers she can't comprehend it."
Hanamiya drops the magazine and pulls Yamazaki's tie, twisting it around his neck. He struggles, pulling against it, but it's tightening and he starts to sputter. He leans forward and the desk topples over. Hanamiya releases him as he falls and manages to roll out of the way before the desk hits the ground.
When he sits up, Hanamiya's sitting a few meters away, hair disheveled and cradling her arm. Shit. She wouldn't let herself get hurt, right? She's dodged 190-centimeter guys on a basketball court when they fall; she can dodge a little classroom desk.
She looks up at him through her long, dark lashes. "Yamazaki…you wouldn't hurt a girl, would you?"
"Well, um," says Yamazaki.
She drops her arm and leaps to her feet. "Kidding, dumbass. I can't believe you fell for it."
Despite her words, Furuhashi has walked over to Hanamiya and seems to be checking her for injuries. Or maybe he isn't; he seems to be staring down her shirt.
"Quit gawking," Hanamiya snaps. "You act like you've never seen a woman before."
"I was looking at the ground," says Furuhashi. "Besides, there's nothing to look at."
Hanamiya flushes a bright red and kicks him in the shins.
"Hey, loser, wake up," says Hara, who is pinching Seto on the wrist.
"Stop pinching," says Seto, not bothering to take off his sleep mask.
"What do you think about Hana-chan's tits?"
"All breasts are good as long as they fit in my hands," says Seto.
"Why the hell are you even thinking about dirty things like that?" Hanamiya shouts, clenching her fists.
Yamazaki snorts. Hanamiya grabs her clipboard and throws it at his head.
87. Pretty Dirty (Himuro Tatsuya/Kise Ryouta) for anon
Ryouta's face is flushed and his breath is shaky and his palm is flat on the crown of Tatsuya's head. Underneath the self-assured, flirtatious exterior, he's clearly inexperienced and has no idea what he's doing. His toes are curled and his lips are overflowing with sweet sounds; he's not sure what to do with himself—he wants Tatsuya to take the lead but at the same time wants to be assertive, wants to be responsive. It's quite cute, actually; he's so eager to spread his legs and put Tatsuya's head between them, so eager to come, and he does, with a shout, into Tatsuya's mouth.
Tatsuya swallows, releases Ryouta from his mouth, and sits up. Ryouta's grip on him has slackened; he flops back on the bead and his hair is mussed gloriously. He's smiling, different than his usual catch-all smile, not as wide but five times more splendid, glowing like fluorescent lights when viewed through a low-hanging icicle.
"You're still…" he says, gesturing toward Tatsuya's hard-on.
Yeah he is, but the chances of them coming at the same time were pretty low from the get-go. He's about to brush the hair back from Ryouta's forehead and tell him that he can handle it, but why should he? Maybe he can, but that doesn't mean Ryouta can't.
"Got any plans for it?" he says.
Ryouta props himself up on his elbows and his exhilarated smile turns into a smirk. "Come here."
Damned if he isn't a quick learner. The things he does with his tongue and his lips only support that notion.
88. Check Out (Liu Wei/Fukui Kensuke)
There are some advantages to the twenty-five (it's no more than that, got it?) centimeter difference between Fukui Kensuke and his boyfriend, and chief among them is that it makes it damn easy to stare at Liu's ass. He's grown again and those uniform pants are slightly too small for him in all the right places (okay, so it looks totally dorky at the bottom where Liu's trouser-sock-clad ankles are visible to the world and Fukui does not miss the opportunity to tease him about that) and…wow. That should not be legal. (Fukui idly wonders what the fuck he did with the handcuffs; it'll be fun to see if he can try and scare Liu into thinking pants that tight are actually against the law.)
89. Handle (Hanamiya Makoto/Momoi Satsuki) for anon
She sees through the way he obscures his meanings with lies and half-truths and implications; no one has ever been able to do it so efficiently before, even Seto—it's beyond irritating. But she's too dangerous, knows too much already, for him to shake her off or even want her gone—and that's the only reason, okay? She makes him uneasy, but her absence makes him even more uneasy.
Her eyes glow in the dim light when they're debating basketball plays, listening to the game on the radio and then turning it off at halftime, constructing and deconstructing mental images of how things played out without having seen them, gesturing with their hands—they could be working or sleeping or doing something else entirely but they're preoccupied with debate, with being right, with each other.
She's rougher than he'd figured, meets his moves with her own, strikes first some of the time—her long nails are talons and her limbs are small but strong; she can handle him and that is perhaps what scares him the most about her.
90. Cat Meets Cat (Hayama Kotarou/Koganei Shinji)
Their faces are alike but different; their bodies move in a similar, almost feline way. Koganei can't tell if he likes it or not, to be honest. It's not enough that Hayama's the better forward; his eyes gleam almost crazily, the same way his teeth do—he can almost feel them cut into his skin from across the court like the ends of the wires he used to wind around tennis rackets that poked into his skin and made him wince and shudder. His trajectory is that of a tennis ball, fast and incomprehensible to Koganei; he wonders if, like the tennis ball, it's not worth it to just keep chasing when he'll never catch up. But Hayama's a hell of a lot more captivating, more like a laser if Koganei was being fair to him. Besides, once he gets close enough and they stop circling around each other, it turns out he knows exactly what Hayama wants and Hayama knows exactly what he wants.
Of course, whether they'll get around to doing all of it is another matter entirely, but Koganei can more than make do with Hayama licking his ear in just that particular way.
91. Wrapped Around Your Finger (Himuro Tatsuya/Mibuchi Reo) for anon
Is he doing this on purpose? If he is, how much of it is he doing on purpose? It's hard to say; Tatsuya's so unreadable, and captivatingly so. His expression is placid, with perhaps the barest hint of a smile (or maybe Reo's imagining things again) and their knees are so close together that Reo can feel the heat from Tatsuya's skin. Tatsuya's wearing one of Reo's shirts; it's slightly too big for him and reveals too much and too little at once. It's unfair; he has to know what he's doing—and he has to know that Reo's already his.
Reo's aware he's been staring at Tatsuya's profile; still, he blushes when Tatsuya looks up from the pages of his magazine, amusement now clearly in his face.
"Yes?" he says.
Reo buries his face in Tatsuya's shoulder. Tatsuya strokes his hair and lets out a soft laugh.
"I'm going to get a swelled head, you know," he says.
"Shut up."
Tatsuya hums. Reo wonders if Tatsuya can feel his face burn brighter against his skin.
92. Enjoying the Night (Takao Kazunari/Izuki Shun) for anon
It started with a "Hawk-Eye've been on the lookout for you," and an hour later Izuki's sure that Haizaki's not the only one who steals moves. Takao's been snatching the puns right out of his mouth (literally, too, swallowing them in kisses and then saying them while Izuki catches his breath) and Izuki's ready to concede, only he's not sure what he has left to give up. He can't even ascertain whether he has anything or not because Takao's mouth is doing those wonderful things to his thighs and he has no idea when his clothes came off and that thought is more coherent than most of the other things going on in his head.
"You're pretty fly, Shun-chan," says Takao as he wriggles out of his pants.
"Well," says Izuki, slowly regaining his breath, "you're not so hawkward yourself."
"Wow, you're on point tonight," says Takao, and before Izuki can respond their mouths are pressed together again.
Takao grinds his hips against Izuki's; Izuki moans into his mouth and tightens his grip on Takao's arms. Takao sighs; his tongue is moving as voraciously as ever and his chest is sweaty, smacking against Izuki's. Takao breaks the kiss and leans back; he's a vision like this to say the least, naked and grinning with his legs spread and his mouth quirked upwards and then he inches back toward Izuki and takes both of their cocks between his palms.
The callouses on his hand aren't too rough and he doesn't squeeze too hard but just enough for the friction to be sweet—but it's not enough. Somehow, even this is teasing, and Takao knows it; his eyes dance and his smile is too cruel. How can he stand it himself?
As if in reply, he speeds up his stroking; Izuki lets out a half-squeak half-moan and lurches forward.
Takao laughs, speeds up; through his half-closed eyes
93. Always (Kagami Taiga/Fukuda Hiroshi)
Kagami can't express himself well. He's not used to saying these kinds of things, especially not in Japanese. Fukuda tries to be patient among his many doubts; it wouldn't be fair to Kagami to demand things from him that he is not capable of, especially when he is capable of so much. Even when he does manage to say it in a way that Fukuda can understand, it's still filled with caveats; he says "always" but does he really mean it? Is it just a placeholder for a different word, an approximation? So many people say it and mean it but it changes, fracturing later into two timelines, a before and an after, not remaining as a promised continuum. But the future is murky in so many ways, and it's much more complex and hard to comprehend than Kagami is. For all of his stuttering and blustering, he's still quite simple. And he means forever when he says it, the words falling from his lips and pooling somewhere deep and warm inside of Fukuda where he knows it's going to be okay. He can put his faith in Kagami as much as Kagami can put his faith in Fukuda. They've done it in basketball; they can do it like this. Isn't it much easier when there's no buzzer?
94. Young (Wakamatsu Kousuke/Susa Yoshinori)
Wakamatsu's face is red and his breaths come shallow and sloppy and uneven as he presses his mouth against Susa's jaw and throat and tries to fist his awkwardly large hand in the opening between the buttons in Susa's shirt but just grabs air, sense of perception warped from the darkness and the beer and a million other things; he closes his eyes and buries his face in Susa's shoulder and Susa rocks him back and forth, pulling Wakamatsu closer with one arm and squeezing his ass with the other hand. Wakamatsu's heart thumps against Susa's skin and his groans are hardly muffled (even when he's quiet, he's loud) his mouth is soaking through Susa's shirt and Susa doesn't give a shit. They're young and drunk and in lust and however much their touching it still isn't enough.
95. Faultlines (Aomine Daiki/Himuro Tatsuya)
Plenty of people call Daiki an idiot, but no one does it quite the way Tatsuya does. The way he says the word is practically overflowing with some bizarre kind of saccharine affection, and it's reserved for very rare occasions—with Satsuki or Wakamatsu, it might as well be his actual name. Tatsuya usually calls him Daiki or (when he's feeling sarcastic) Dear. Aomine might be an idiot, but he knows that Tatsuya exercises quite a lot of patience with him, and trying that patience rarely gets a rise out of him. It's not that Tatsuya's a pushover; he's dangerous. But he won't give up on Daiki, knows the faultlines in his own loyalty but refuses to acknowledge them, and Daiki values that far more than he may seem to.
96. Wings (Nakamura Shinya/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)
Nakamura's ordinary, he sits in the middle of the classroom and gets comfortably decent grades and eats his boring packed lunch every day and has a few friends and has an obsession of sorts (that would be basketball) but just keeps it tucked in the back of his mind the way he does all of his emotions; he's always in a state of half-composure. He's always firmly on the ground, thinks about the sky occasionally, how he can't jump high enough to block sometimes and how he can't even begin to think about the sky because he can't get a third of a third of the way there.
But Hayakawa and all of his over-boiling enthusiasm completely unravel him and make him delusional; Hayakawa's hand grabs his and suddenly Nakamura feels like maybe he's going to sprout wings and they'll fly into the clouds together, soaked from the condensation but Hayakawa will keep him from caring, shouting in his ears and pulling their bodies together because despite being soaked to the bone he radiates heat like Nakamura's personal star.
97. Eternity (Alexandra Garcia)
She dreams sometimes that she can see again, that even if she's wearing glasses they don't make a difference but her peripheral vision is perfect and the colors are sharp and there is a perfect clarity and everything is perfect.
She wakes up to the beep of her phone's alarm, blurry display as she wipes her finger across the screen, desperately trying to swipe it the right way to get the damn thing to shut off and after however long that takes she reaches for her glasses and puts them on and her world comes back into the sort-of-focus it's been in for the past ten years and she wills herself not to cry.
There might be a different world somewhere where she can still see, is still playing professionally, but it's not this one and there's no use in mourning something that is lost to eternity, has been lost an eternity already. Time is wasting.
98. Wait (Murasakibara Atsushi/Aomine Daiki)
They don't wait for each other but they don't really take it personally when the other doesn't wait for them; they let everything slide and don't push the issue. Neither one of them is especially passive-aggressive; they just don't give a damn most of the time. It's a comfortable way of being, and they put just enough faith in each other that it works. They don't speak with words; they use routines and signals and simple things, locked fingers and open doors and raw kisses and hips grinding so hard and hot it could start a fire.
99. Sight (Imayoshi Shouichi/Alexandra Garcia)
She goes fishing with him, sits on the edge of the pier, bare feet with dirt-covered bottoms dangling off; her toes are pointed gracefully. She takes off her glasses and puts them beside her, trusting that he will not break them—he's asked her if she thinks this is wise and she shrugs. She's staring off into the blue blur, sky and sea indistinguishable to her. It must be, because her prescription is much stronger than his and he cannot tell the difference with his glasses off (she snatched them off of him once and repeated his question but he did not have to answer; she knew he knew she would not break them or drop them). He stares, too, sometimes, when the fish aren't biting and her hand on his thigh has stilled. Sometimes it's hazy, too polluted, but sometimes the sun is so bright he has to duck his head (he wonders if she's closing her eyes). He's come to enjoy these days more than the ones he spends alone, still—he has better luck fishing on those days but it's just not to worth it. He must be just another fool to have fallen for her, but perhaps it doesn't matter.
100. Less Than Absolute (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou) for anon
Words ring hollow like the church bells—his parents were Christian; they gave him a religious funeral. The shell was lying in the coffin and the eyes were closed; Akashi had long since memorized the contours of his face, now pinched thin from months of sickness. This was beautiful in an awful, aching way, not like the way Shintarou was beautiful—Akashi's eyes had blurred momentarily when Shintarou had been so precise and sharp, so careful.
His words, of absolution and control, now taste sour on his lips. He maintains the illusion when he meets with potential business partners, looks out for blood in the water, but doubt lies in the shadows, tinged with green, catching his eyes—it's foolish to believe that they will meet again (for all of their years together, Shintarou never convinced Akashi of his belief in the supernatural) but he wants to believe it, so badly, within the deep recesses of himself, to see those bandaged fingers sliding across the shogi board one more time, to see the motion of those thin lips, to hear Shintarou's voice saying his name. And yet, he can't want it—it's too much, too…impossible. Those feelings are locked behind an iron gate, the key buried in that graveyard.
101. Platonic Kisses (Kise Ryouta, Teikou team) for anon
Kise's girlfriend chewing him out in the gym is both a distraction and an amusement—either way, Akashi's going to fucking murder him after she's done. She jabs him in the chest and sneers up at him, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder.
"Modeling job or not, I don't want you kissing anyone else!"
"Really, it was just platonic. Michiko-san is a professional; she has a boyfriend!"
"Who, you?"
"It wasn't real," says Kise.
"A kiss indicates romantic interest," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
Kise frowns, then turns on his heels. "Midorimacchi!"
"What?" says Midorima. "I'm not going to defend you."
Kise walks over to Midorima, grabs his t-shirt, and pulls him down into a kiss.
Midorima slaps him. Rubbing his face, Kise turns back to his girlfriend. "See? I don't even like Midorimacchi, but I still kissed him."
Midorima looks like he's about to fall over. Kise's girlfriend looks absolutely bewildered. Kise walks over to Aomine and kisses him before he can figure out what's going on.
"Kise, what the hell?" says Aomine, making a show of wiping his mouth.
Murasakibara is next; his reaction is positive—he kisses back with tongue. Kise himself looks a little bit shocked, and Murasakibara licks his lips.
"Kise-chin tasted good, like apple candy."
Kise approaches Akashi apprehensively; Akashi raises an eyebrow. "If you're going to do it, Kise, do it. Your practice schedule will be adjusted accordingly."
Kise leans in and pecks Akashi quickly on the lips.
He turns around. "Where's Kurokocchi?"
"I've seen enough," says his girlfriend. "I can't believe you're gay."
"Wait a minute! Tomoko-chan!"
She's already spun on her heels and walked out; the door slams shut behind her.
"I didn't even get to kiss Kurokocchi!" Kise wails.
102. Falling Slowly (Himuro Tatsuya/Mibuchi Reo) for anon
Reo's pretty sly; it's hard to tell what he's thinking or planning sometimes—Tatsuya knows very well that people say the same about him, but really most of the time he's not planning much of anything. Reo's much more of a clear and present danger, although a danger to what Tatsuya can't really say—his heart, perhaps, if he was feeling like more of a cliché.
What started out as a default companionship, accompanying Atsushi to Kyoto and palling around with Atsushi's boyfriend's self-appointed guardian, has become at least a little deeper. Sometimes the younger set is less involved in their meetings; sometimes Reo comes alone to Akita and joins Tatsuya for coffee or dinner or a one-on-one. Of course he admires Reo's skills on the court—but it's more than that. Reo's form is beautiful, perfectly studied; he understands Tatsuya's approach. Of course, he's much more talented, but that's neither here nor there—it's hard to begrudge him that.
Is it just friendship, though? If it is, Tatsuya can hardly bear it—Reo can be petty, but he's forgiven many people many things over the years, so even if he doesn't feel the same way with time he'll probably let it go. And if he doesn't, well…Tatsuya will cross that bridge when he comes to it. They're hanging out in Reo's room on a rainy Saturday, listening to pop radio, and Tatsuya puts his hand on Reo's shoulder.
Reo turns, eyes bright and questioning, and Tatsuya leans in and places his mouth on Reo's. His lips are soft and taste of tea, and it takes a few seconds before he kisses back. He's a good kisser, not that Tatsuya's surprised, tongue exacting and lips giving just the right amount of pressure.
They break for air and Reo moves closer, resting his hand on Tatsuya's thigh. He's at a loss for words, but his smile speaks volumes.
103. Valentine (Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou) for anon
"You should know I prefer oshiruko," Midorima says when Kise puts the bag of chocolates in his hand.
"I come out of my way to see you in Tokyo and give you my chocolates of love and this is all the thanks I get?" Kise says, puffing out his cheeks. "It's a Valentine's Day tradition."
Midorima sighs. "Fine."
Kise brightens up instantaneously, hugging Midorima so tightly he can barely breathe.
"Calm down," says Midorima, pushing Kise off of him and adjusting the collar on his jacket.
Kise still can't stop grinning, but he waits until Midorima sets the chocolates on the table to grab his hand.
"Come on, let's go on a date."
"Only if you buy me oshiruko," says Midorima.
"Okay," says Kise.
He's about to open the door when Midorima swiftly kisses him on the cheek and mutters a "thanks". When Kise looks back, he's blushing and staring at the ground and Kise feels like his internal organs have all jumbled up and turned to mush.
104. Shopping (Kagami Taiga/Mibuchi Reo)
Reo likes the idea of shopping, trying on and buying new clothes and the satisfaction of feeling like he looks good or he's helped someone else look good, but in practice he grows bored with it very quickly. Taiga, on the other hand, loves shopping, and though seeing him try on new outfits is fun (he's got a great fashion sense) he just wants to swipe his credit card and leave so they can do something else (especially because Taiga takes too damn long fussing with his outfit in the changing room). He'll have time to wear these outfits and mix and match them later and it's going to look great, but he looks almost too good, good enough for Reo to want those clothes off right now.
But Reo keeps going; Taiga always wants him to come along so he can get a second opinion (and to show off as well; he's not totally insecure) and it's not worth it to disappoint him. His broad, easy smile is totally worth it (and they go shopping for groceries afterward, which more than cancels out the clothes-shopping-induced boredom).
105. Sorrow (Shirogane Eiji/Aida Riko)
Her small hand is steady on his waist; her gaze is set straight in front of her. Her expression gives him the strength to hold his own head up a little bit higher—even though Riko didn't know his brother well, her presence reassures him that despite all the sorrow and regret and mourning and shock there is something to steady his rudder and keep him on course; he's fallen into the waves and her grip is as tight as iron shackles around him, keeping him from being submerged. After all, she is no stranger to sorrow—he remembers, if she does not, seeing her at her mother's funeral, placid expression and folded hands. The memory of that, too, of her maturity even at that age (sometimes he wonders if he actually is the older one) is one he thinks of, has been thinking of, ever since Kouzou's second heart attack, ever since he began to fear the worst.
And that's exactly why he can sob in her arms, let out these ugly sounds into the empty night of their bedroom, without shame or fear or apology, with only anguish.
106. Cast (Kagami Taiga/Himuro Tatsuya)
The die has been cast—again. Change is inevitable, irreversible, but they already know that too well, don't they? It's enough to make half of Tatsuya fearless and the other half completely terrified, because he knows what happens when he casts it with shaking hands, hastily and fucking everything up.
But this time he's not casting it alone; Taiga takes deep breaths and nods and steadies his hands with his own, larger and so much more solid and they lock their eyes and they're in this together no matter what happens and that casts the die right, finally, after years of misunderstandings and miscommunications, as their lips meet over the molten iron.
107. Untimed (Susa Yoshinori/Sakurai Ryou)
Their first kiss is like a free throw on home court, crowd hushed and collective breath sucked in and the thump of their hearts is the sound of the ball on the hardwood floor and they raise their hopes like arms in the air and the trajectory is ethereal, mouth on mouth and ball spinning through the air surely, landing with a swish—it's the way Sakurai always throws them, in the still gym after practice is over with eyes set like steel and as if he's almost a machine or in the games, even the away game where the crowd is deafening but he's in a soundproof world of his own—only he's brought Susa into that world without a shot clock or a buzzer and it's the most amazing thing.
108. Sugar Daddy (Imayoshi Shouichi/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon
Makoto sighs. It's not that schoolwork is hard for someone of his level of intelligence, it's just…tedious. He really doesn't need a degree to be qualified for the business world, but unfortunately the rest of the world doesn't see it that way.
Makoto sighs and slumps against the couch cushions. He looks quite cute with his cheeks puffed out like that and his eyebrows knitted. Shouichi reaches over and tucks a lock of hair behind Makoto's ear.
"What's the matter?"
Makoto glowers at Shouichi, almost reaches out to slap away his hand—either his reflexes are getting worse or he's gotten so used to Shouichi's touch that he doesn't feel the need to shove him away as strongly. Or, most likely, he enjoys it and has terrible acting skills. Shouichi returns to answering an e-mail from his publisher; yes, the manuscript is delayed but he's established himself well enough to afford the luxury of crying writer's block.
Makoto sighs again. "This work is so dull. I know how to do it; it's tedious and not challenging."
Shouichi hums. Makoto's "I'm-too-smart-for-school" shtick has gotten pretty old at this point, but it's still amusing and he might actually be right. At any rate, his grades are excellent, which makes his tuition lighter, which makes Shouichi happy and gives him an excuse to spend money on Makoto in other ways. It's very amusing to see Makoto unsure of whether to show ingratitude or act spoiled—and this all comes back to how adorable he is, as he is now, typing furiously away on the computer.
109. Overwhelming (Takao Kazunari/Aida Riko/Midorima Shintarou) for anon
Takao might be even better at kissing than he is talking; either way he's had lots of practice with his mouth and is clearly proud of it. Riko can barely breathe at the rate he's attacking her lips, tongue moving faster than she can track. It's not that she can't handle it, no way. She most definitely can. It's just that—his lips and Midorima's hands, moving up and down her sides and her legs, are equally distracting and equally amazing. She's known for a while that he can play the piano, and it's as if he's playing some sort of piece on her body, like her body is an instrument and she can't figure out how to move with him, her body going in all different directions. She's sighing and moaning and wailing into Takao's math, embarrassed by how loud she's become, trying to silence herself.
Takao breaks their contact; she opens her eyes and he's smiling at her. "It's okay, Riko-chan, the sounds you're making are beautiful."
She wants to tell him to address her more properly—but then again this situation is hardly proper, is it? Midorima kisses the inside of her thigh, and she squeaks and pulls Takao back down; she knows it won't stop him from seeing her like this because of the hawkeye but it'll make her feel a bit better and that's all she can really do right now.
110. Clocks (Nijimura Shuuzou/Aomine Daiki)
The sun is setting when he stirs and raises his head, long fingers that had been splayed on Shuuzou's chest curling into a fist. The orange rays of the streaking late spring sun filter through the panes of the gym and give visibility to the countless pieces of dust in the air. He's only been asleep for an hour and a half, but both of them should have gone home already—practice ended two hours ago.
But they had stayed, cherishing the precious few moments they could catch together. Already Shuuzou feels the pressures of time; his parents come home later and later each night and his father's cough worsens and his hair is streaked with gray; his sister is almost as tall as his mother now and stares longingly at stiletto heels in the windows of department stores; he has less than a year left here and he's not sure that's enough. There's not enough time to set everything in motion and make sure the kids can stand on their own; they're more than capable in some ways and completely unprepared in others.
Daiki yawns and smiles at Shuuzou, blindingly bright and beautiful, and Shuuzou flicks his forehead.
"You slept too long."
Daiki's shirt is rumpled and his brilliant hair is sticking up at funny angles and as they haul themselves up Shuuzou sneaks in a quick kiss to the top of his head.
111. Cones (Wakamatsu Kousuke/Sakurai Ryou)
Sakurai looks so fucking cute with a smudge of pistachio ice cream on his nose that Wakamatsu wants to die. He sinks down in his seat, aware of the way his cheeks feel too hot, hotter than hot even though the sun is scorching and his ice cream is melting—that's still no excuse.
"Um, Kousuke-san, your ice cream is dripping."
"I know!" Wakamatsu snaps, and then he cringes as Sakurai flinches.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. "I'm sorry," they both say at the same time.
Sakurai offers a cautious smile. Before he can stop himself, Wakamatsu leans over and licks the ice cream off.
Sakurai drops his cone. Wakamatsu crushes his own in his fist. Sakurai's far too cute to exist.
112. Advantage (Takao Kazunari/Kawahara Kouichi)
Takao wants to say he has the advantage here, that he thinks of sharper comebacks quicker and that he's got Kawahara wrapped around his finger, but that's not exactly the truth. It's more the other way around than he'll ever let anyone know, except Kawahara always has this wicked ear-to-ear grin and Takao wonders if he knows—he doesn't know if he should ask Kuroko and what kind of can of worms that would open, and it's hard enough thinking straight anyway when he just wants to hear Kawahara's laugh or see him shrug his shoulders in that way and when he's trying not to run his hand over Kawahara's ultra-short hair. He can't even take comfort in the fact that he's the better basketball player, even though he's constantly showing off in ways he probably shouldn't—on the court, Kawahara's a machine, doesn't raise an eyebrow at Takao's fancy dribble or no-look pass, just guards his man and watches the ball.
Well, Takao's never been one to back down from a challenge.
113. Details (Kiyoshi Teppei/Kagami Taiga)
The twitch of his mouth when he's tasting the dish he's making and it's not quite what he wanted or expected, the way he winds his finger through the chain around his neck and twists, the furrow of his brow and the way he juts out his chin when he's perplexed and trying to figure something out—just one of these small details is enough to make Teppei's face break out into a goofy grin and his hands twitch, subconsciously reaching for him—he doesn't mind when Taiga notices him looking and blushes (although most of the time he doesn't, so intent on the task at hand or whatever is running through his mind that he doesn't feel Teppei's gaze). He's beautiful and wonderful and he shares these details, these personal bits of himself, is so unguarded and precious—it fills Teppei with a warmth (almost) entirely unrelated to Taiga's body heat.
114. City (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou)
The cracked asphalt streets of his calloused palm, the high-rises of his curled fingers, the bridge of his thumb over the wrinkled sheet—Imayoshi's hand is a city. Sakurai stares at it in rapture, afraid even to breathe, committing it to memory, thinking of the way it will feel in his palm, under his pencil and on the page, of all the times he will draw it (because he will, from memories laid over one another like stacked-up sheets of paper). He will remember the angle of the sun through the window and the shadows it casts and the slope of Imayoshi's thin wrist and the color of the sheets and he will remember the pleasant ache of his body and the previous night and reflexively touch the dents in his shoulder from Imayoshi's nails (which will have faded, but he will remember the grooves under his fingertips and the exact spots on his skin). And he will remember the ghost of a genuine smile on Imayoshi's lips, the feeling of having seen it but not quite captured it with his mind, not transferable to the pencil. But he will think mostly about the city contained in an upturned hand.