I thought I'd be in trouble; I hadn't written the next six prompts. And five were to be smut. :O Ah well, I survived. Apologies if the next five aren't up to par. I really wanted to finish this. XP

Warning: angry!sex. yaoi. pretty self-explanatory. Disclaimer: See other prompts.

Made for SHINE. SHINE, by definition, is a forum in which Ouran fans congregate. Join! Pwease? :D

--50-short stories prompt: issued by Demi-kun--
Username: Lit / Literate
Pairing: KyouXHika.

28. Uncommon.

It wasn't normal. No, it wasn't normal at all.

In fact, it was so uncommon, that the times that either of these happened could be counted on two hands. During the past ten years.

And it had never happened at the same time.

To put it lightly, Hikaru was angry at Kyouya, and Kyouya was angry at Hikaru.

And neither of them really got it as they meld together in a pressing heated kiss, hands more frantic than usual, movements jerkier, the inflictions that were normally accidental now deliberate, forceful, hurtful, painful.

They were both very pissed off.

That's why they're now tangled in their limbs, sharing both breathlessness and heat, ragged clothes hanging shredded from their shoulders, Hikaru glaring up at his lover, challenging, daring, and Kyouya simply shot it back. His nails ran deeper crevices in his back, his tongue clashing against the other, asserting, claiming, fuck yes, Hikaru clenched his himself together, his finger raking bloody patterns into skin, as Kyouya took him, dry, unexpected, and freaking pissed.

Hikaru's tongue didn't falter. Kyouya's motions didn't stop.

No matter what the little voice in both of their minds told them.

Kyouya slid roughly against him, almost lifting his lover off the couch, Hikaru still engaged with their tongue, curving against one another, pushing himself flat against Kyouya's skin, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop--

Halfway through it all and they finally, finally realized they were turned on.

"I'm not going to forgive you," Hikaru huffed out, his voice still stubborn, lapsing with faint breaths; his eyes flinched closed as Kyouya slammed straight into him and stopped, running a hand along Hikaru's back.

"Good, I wasn't going to either," he whispered huskily into his ear, feeling the razor-edged reply as Hikaru tightened himself down on him, a hand edging to grip at his hair harshly. He bit down hard on his lover's pale skin, feeling as Hikaru's breath roughened, his hands gripping at him desperately.

The next day, both males came to realize that they were very, very miserable and should not get that pissed off at each other ever again.