Romance Drabbles Part 11
Disclaimer: Don't own.
160. Nails (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou)
Sakurai forgets to cut his nails sometimes, and Imayoshi's rough and Sakurai clings to his back and digs in his fingers and his nails cut across thin layers of skin, hands tensing up when he realizes what he's done and fitting in apologies in the spaces between shallow breaths and heavy moans until Imayoshi silences them all with his slippery mouth. When they're finished, Imayoshi shrugs off the blankets and exposes his back to Sakurai's eyes. The red lines are fading to a paler shade of pink.
Imayoshi puts his glasses back on his face, and from the way his closed eyes look through the glass Sakurai can tell that if he'd drawn blood he would have had to disinfect the wounds and then Imayoshi would have punished him further. The thought of it makes him squeeze his eyes shut and stutter out another apology. Imayoshi lets his hand rest on the small of Sakurai's back and he sleeps, glasses still on his face.
161. Bells (Okamura Kenichi/Himuro Tatsuya)
The church bells ring in the distance; the sound is muffled by the distance and the wind and the snow that bogs down every surface and isolates everything. Even so close to the buildings, the two of them cannot be seen, dark coats blending in with the snow-streaked foliage in the midwinter darkness. Hand touches hand within Okamura's large pockets; Okamura's palms envelop Himuro's much smaller hands and radiate a comforting, pulsing heat. Himuro stands on his tiptoes to kiss Okamura's lips, and even after…how long has it been? (Time seems to flow oddly here.) Even after they've lost count of the number of times their lips have met, Okamura somehow seems shocked, though the confused disbelief on his face is incredibly endearing. (Himuro can wait a few moments for him to lean down and kiss back. It's worth it.)
162. Sloppy Drunks (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)
Makoto wakes up every day and curses being born this short. Technically, he's on the taller end of things but not when he's around other basketball players. It's an unpleasant situation to be surrounded by people seven, ten, fifteen centimeters taller than him who look down at him and lean down to hear what he says. It's also annoying when they drink, because everyone else's tolerance is way too damn high. He's already having trouble standing and he's had much less than everyone else, probably a fifth of what Eikichi's had (but then he takes everything to excess) and they all seem fine.
He really needs to piss right now but he can't get up, knows he'll feel the vertigo and stagger and oh god they'll laugh at him—they're probably laughing at him now, anyway (he can't be bothered to listen to their conversation; it's probably stupid anyway). He stands up, leans on the table. They don't appear to notice him. Interesting. He trudges off in the direction of the bathroom, swaying his arms to keep himself balanced.
When he comes back, he feels only a bit better, more comfortable—but also more tired. He misjudges the distance between himself and Eikichi, and instead of placing his hand on his seat it falls on Eikichi's leg. Eikichi's chugging yet another can of beer, and this doesn't interrupt him—but when he finishes he slams the can on the table and looks at Makoto and kind of half-grins.
"Oh?" He pulls Makoto onto his lap and Makoto tries to scratch at his hands but he just cut his nails yesterday and Eikichi's got him securely fastened with his arm that has to be twice as wide as one of Makoto's and Makoto has probably never felt this small.
Eikichi leans down and presses his lips to Makoto's and it's slobbery and disgusting and Makoto wants to move backward but his head is already pressed against Eikichi's chest. Eikichi tastes like cheap American beer and the skin around his mouth is sweaty but somehow Makoto doesn't find it all that bad. It's easier to just let his tongue loll about in Eikichi's mouth and let Eikichi take the lead. At this point Makoto finds that he really doesn't care enough about anything—that he doesn't particularly like Eikcihi, that they're in public, that this is disgusting—to stop.
163. Irritatingly Irresistible (Hayama Kotarou/fem!Miyaji Kiyoshi)
Miyaji is this close to throwing the book across the room. No matter how many times she looks over the problem, the math just looks too foreign to her. Fuck. She's never going to get into college like this if she just gives up—so she slams it hard on the library table, receiving glares from her fellow seniors and the librarians (not that she's looking at them, too busy staring down the formulas and problems). She's just about got it, is finally making her way through the haze of numbers and variables when she feels a sudden weight on her back and her head slams forward into the desk.
"Miyaji-san! I found you!"
"This is a library, damn brat!" she hisses.
It's too little, too late, though, because the librarian's been watching her closely after her latest display of frustration and immediately grins at her and points to the door. She gestures wildly at the redheaded boy who is hanging off of her neck, but the librarian continues to point. Sighing (it's not like she's going to get back to that perfect place near math nirvana now) she gathers her stuff and drags Hayama into the hallway.
She slams the door to the library behind her, almost catching Hayama's foot in it, and then slams him into the floor, holding his chest down with her foot as he grabs at her leg.
"Why the hell are you here? Why the hell aren't you in Kyoto? And why the hell are you bothering me when I'm studying for college entrance exams?"
He's still smiling. Does every word she says go in one ear and out the other? "I'm here for moral support!" he says.
"Don't you listen to a fucking word I say? I keep telling you to go away. It would support me if you went home and left me in peace. My life was way better before you were around."
He looks absolutely crestfallen, and for a second she feels maybe a bit guilty and lessens the pressure of her foot grinding into his chest. He uses the opportunity to spring up, upending her in the process but catching her right before she falls.
"That's what I love the most about you, baby," he says, burying his face in her neck.
She knees him in the groin. "Damn brat! I'm older than you and taller than you, so don't you dare call me baby if you value your life."
Again, he stands up. What the hell is with him? He actually looks kind of sheepish this time, but she knows better than to expect it to have any effect on his behavior. He wraps his arm around her waist and she's going to push him away but the look of utter contentment on his face is actually kind of…cute. Well, she's not going to let him do anything else, but as long as he stays like this it might be okay. She doesn't really like doing work in the library anyway.
164. Gravity (Himuro Tatsuya/Fukui Kensuke)
The weight of each other makes them fall (so to speak) right into gravity's trap and they sink deep into the worn-out mattress on Fukui's dorm bed, their combined weight enough to make the frame groan (and in the scheme of things, neither of them is all that heavy). They're at the point where their limbs are tangled and their sweat is mingling into a sheen on one another's skin and they're both wise enough to know that words are out of place here. They live by their words, yeah—but dirty talk is empty and right now they are so full of emotion and want and the balance is so delicate, until they go crashing back, Fukui on top of Himuro, teeth on a toned bicep and abs flinching from the proximity to Himuro's groin.
165. Guard (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)
It's hard to sense the tension now, the slight stiffening of Midorima's muscles and then the immediate relaxation into Aomine's skin. It's hard sometimes—it's hard for Aomine to deal with this, this waiting (patience has never been his strong suit). It's a lot better than it was at first—even when Midorima would claim to be relaxed, that he was trying his best, he still froze up under Aomine's touch, stopped breathing when Aomine kissed him. Aomine knows he can be a little overeager, but moving this slowly was torture.
But it was worth it, worth it to take down the walls Midorima had built up carefully brick by brick; it's worth it for the soft smile that awaits him as he manages to bring Midorima's guard down again and again. Little by little, Midorima stops withdrawing as quickly, stops shutting him down immediately, starts to reach out on his own. It's a damn long process; Midorima's been so lonely for so long and he's only just started to form close friendships so Aomine can't reasonably expect him to just rush into love. He knows he's not always the most reassuring, a click of the tongue or a roll of the eyes and he says that it's fine a little too hastily even when he means it, and he tries to make up for it by kissing him deeper and slower and looking into his eyes for longer. And even when Midorima flinches and tenses up now, he trusts Aomine absolutely, trusts the words that spill from his lips and the flesh that meets with his.
166. Two is Better than One (Kasuga Ryuuhei/fem!Izuki Shun)
It's hard to remember a time when she was lonelier. She'd had friends and family members, sure, but they didn't completely get her the way Kasuga does. He understands her drive to win, to push her limits, to go beyond them. He understands her as a basketball player, as a point guard even. He understands her as a person, in the way she feels she understands him. He's not entirely simple, but not anywhere near the subtle, endlessly complex man that she is beginning to realize only exists in the pages of women's magazines. It's better with him to lean against; it's better to study together; it's better to have him explain the things she doesn't get. It's better to go get coffee or groceries with him, to have someone to talk to and someone to listen to. When they're not together, she has time to be alone, which she definitely needs—but she never feels lonely anymore.
It's more fun, too, to bounce joke ideas off of him and watch his reactions, to hang out with him and his friends and watch him constantly clash with Tsugawa, to hug him from behind and watch him jump up in surprise. It's fun to go places with him; it's more fun to try new things when he's there to try them, too. She can tell he's having fun, too, from the sparkle in his eyes and the way his grin never fades, even when he tries to look serious.
167. Fear of Losing (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)
Aomine's always kind of had an idea of what love is, but it's not long after he falls in love that he realizes that these preconceived notions are false, empty, incomplete renderings. Love isn't sexual pleasure or plain irrationality or all-consuming desire. Those play their parts, but minor ones in the grand scheme of things.
Love is the courage to grab for his hand before he pulls it away, to pull him closer despite not knowing for sure that this is what he wants; love is taking a gamble on reciprocity. Love is when he wakes up in the middle of the night to find Midorima's arms wrapped around his waist and his shoulder tucked into Midorima's chin and their legs all tangled up. Love is the panic in the voice on the other end of the phone when a cop from his precinct has been shot and it's made the news. Love is the loneliness that Aomine feels when Midorima's been away for a week and a half at a medical conference somewhere halfway around the world, the certainty of knowing that nothing would pull Midorima away willingly mixed with the uncertainty of events beyond both of their control. Love is a compromise, but only so much of one. Love is the way Aomine needs Midorima's presence, his steady hands and his voice and everything about him, and the lengths he will go to secure that.
168. Off on the Sounds (Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari)
His unbandaged fingers stroke the underside of Takao's cock and Takao lets loose a guttural sound, muffled by the lips on top of his. Midorima pauses, moves his mouth to the side of Takao's neck and precisely onto the spot that drives Takao wild.
"Shin-chan…" he moans, arching his back and spreading his legs wider. Midorima traces his hands over Takao's thighs and Takao's cock twitches and again he moans.
"You're so impatient," Midorima says between ragged breaths—he tries to hide it but it's obvious that he's as turned on by all this as Takao is. Takao smirks.
Midorima's mouth trails its way down Takao's torso, and Takao wishes he was taller so that this could go on for longer—but at the same time, it's agony. He's waiting for Midorima to settle his head between Takao's legs and it's taking for fucking ever—what sounds is his mouth making?
Midorima takes Takao's cock inside his sweet, wet mouth and for a moment Takao is almost blinded by the suddenness of the sensation. Then, just as quickly, Midorima withdraws his mouth, leaving Takao on the brink and he whines.
"Wait," Midorima hisses, and then he moves his tongue behind Takao's cock and Takao jerks his hips, the skin sensitive even to the touch of skin—Midorima's tongue is overwhelming. Takaotreads his fingers through Midorima's hair and squeezes them together, trying to concentrate on the softness of the strands. Midorima licks all the way back to Takao's hole and then startsmoving it in circles. Taka's grip tightens and the hair is slipping through the sweat on his fingers. He yowls as Midorima's mouth continues its unsteady, unpredictable movement, trying to spread his legs even farther apart, bucking his hips, until he finally climaxes and slackens his grip.
Midorima sits up, flushed and panting—he always claims Takao is lying when Takao says that Midorima gets off purely on Takao's voice, but he really spends too much time in denial for his own good, although that may be one of the tings Takao finds most endearing about him. He pulls Midorima down against his chest and ignores Midorima's quiet complaints about how messy they are.
168. Piggy-Back Ride (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)
They argue about Takao being too heavy and then he jumps on anyway and Makoto tries to throw him off but Takao's clinging grip is too strong and Makoto calls him a brat.
Takao flings his arms around Makoto and jumps up, trying to wrap his legs around Makoto's torso. Makoto pushes them off and starts to walk, Takao trailing behind him awkwardly.
"Let go of me."
"Not until after you give me a piggy-back ride!"
"Hell no!"
"Aww, come on, Mako-chan."
"You're too heavy!" He purposely steps backward and onto Takao's foot. "Whoops, my bad."
"You're so mean, Mako-chan. It'll be fun! Or…is it you can't lift me up?" A smile tugs at Takao's lips.
"Idiot, of course I can."
"So then, why don't you?"
Makoto sighs. "Fine."
Takao climbs on, securing his arms and legs around Makoto, feeling Makoto's arms reluctantly supporting his body. He snuggles closer, places his head on Makoto's shoulder and kissing his neck.
"You're heavy," Makoto says.
"You're weak," Takao says.
Makoto drops him, but Takao is ready and lands on his feet. Makoto rubs his back.
"Are you sore? Maybe I can help you with that," Takao says, draping his arm around Makoto's shoulders.
169. Everyday Magic (Himuro Tatsuya/Alexandra Garcia)
There's a certain kind of magic that Tatsuya just has—or maybe something that he just is, always has been. He's captivating, beautiful, graceful, even when he's unsure or self-deprecating, his mouth always positioned just so, visible eye always glinting—with amusement or resolve or something else entirely. He fits in Alex's arms just as comfortably as he did when he was a foot shorter than her, and though his voice has gotten deeper and quieter it still sounds beautiful, perhaps even more so now than it did years ago. There's something in the atmosphere, even when he's asleep, with messy hair and a half-smile tugging at his lips, something that she keeps thinking that she's gotten used to, until it takes her by surprise once more. As if sensing her gaze, he stirs and his eyes flutter open. He smiles fully, rolls over half on top of her and puts an arm around her waist and rests his head on her chest. When he lets himself be selfish without worrying about what he ought to do and about anyone judging him, something that most would probably consider mundane—that's real magic, and she falls in love with him all over again.
170. The Beach's Fault (Liu Wei/fem!Himuro Tatsuya)
The sun shines off her glossy black hair as she grins and grabs his hand. "Let's go into the water."
He wants to spend a few more minutes just admiring the sun in her hair and that gorgeous, almost carefree smile on her face and the way she looks in a blue bikini, toned legs and firm abs and more cleavage than he realized she had. She'd said she wanted to go to the beach for a day because she was feeling kind of homesick and she already looks so relaxed and happy. He's not sure how this beach compares to Southern California, but as long as she's happy, he's happy, too. Her smiles are rare and so infectious.
She gasps as they step tentatively into the water and then blushes. It is quite cold, although she should probably have prepared herself more.
He picks her up and moves deeper into the water. She laughs and wraps her legs around his torso.
"Your feet are cold," he says.
She kisses his collarbone. The drag of the undertow almost pulls his feet out from under him—yes, it's all the fault of the current. He's too busy placing blame to notice how far out they've gotten or the large wave that's rapidly approaching until it's much too late.
When they resurface, she's treading water and laughing at him, completely soaked but still somehow perfectly arranged. He scowls. It's the damn beach's fault for complementing her so well.
171. Destiny Three (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun)
He gets on the train at the stop she gets off, headed to his part-time job (today he has no classes. It must be nice being a university student) as she heads to school. She calls his name and they pass each other in the doorway and he smiles, thumb between the pages of a light novel.
During lunch, she bails on her classmates with an apologetic grin; she needs a study guide for the entrance exams and she's not going to want to go after school. She grabs a soda from Maji and continues to the store at the end of the block. The bell rings as she opens the door, and there he is in the center aisle. She's only half-surprised to see him.
"Another prep book?"
She nods. It's on the top shelf, just beyond her reach. He smiles and stands on his tiptoes to get it down for her and she very openly admires how nice his ass looks in those pants.
"Don't stare, it makes me uncomfortable."
He hands her the book. She raises an eyebrow. He returns to perusing the shelves for something interesting, and she watches for a few more moments, the way his hair falls and covers his flat eyes. Still, she has to get back in time for her next class so she turns and walks to the register.
He finds her in the park after school, taking shots from the free-throw line in her school uniform.
"You know," he says. "I read somewhere that if people meet three times in a day, it's destiny."
"I don't believe in fate," she says, dribbling the ball. "I believe in free will." She shoots. The ball goes cleanly through the net. "But I'd choose you."
"Thanks, I think," he says.
When she kisses him she smells like sweat and fruit. He'd choose her, too.
172. Less Than Enough (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki)
It was interesting, for a while. It was interesting to feel Kouki's skin shake beneath his touch, to hear Kouki gulp and see him try and sit up straight. It was interesting to hear him stutter and attempt to vocalize his thoughts. But Akashi figured him out quickly, and that was that. What is left? There is nothing, really, only what he has seen already. At first, Kouki was something new and almost exotic, but now he's just another insufficient stopgap, something that will in the long run become inconsequential. It was all right while it lasted, he supposes.
173. Pretty Physical (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)
Midorima likes to close his eyes when he takes off his glasses because he can't focus without them and all the motion makes him dizzy, even in the dark. His eyelashes cast deep shadows on his cheeks in the moonlight and Aomine's no romantic but he finds it almost entrancing, and then Midorima opens his eyes, breaking the spell, to ask Aomine why he's paused.
He kisses Midorima in response, deep and hungry, and Midorima pulls him closer reflexively before he has time to be ashamed of his desire.
Aomine wonders if Midorima knows how lovely he really is when his toes point and a shudder runs through his entire body and his mouth hangs open when Aomine hits just the right spot with his fingers and he knows Midorima's stretched out enough, if he knows how lovely he really is when he squares his shoulders as Aomine enters him slowly and the thin line of sweat falls down the center of his chest. Does he know how gorgeous the angle between his neck and his chin is, or his hoarse voice as he orgasms? Or when they're basking in the afterglow and he sighs like that?
174. Embarrassment (Takao Kazunari/Hanamiya Makoto)
If only Makoto could just walk along in peace, perhaps talking to Takao (despite his mindless, habitual chatter every once in a while he says something vaguely interesting, okay?) with a distance between them but he has to close that gap every time Makoto creates it and he keeps on touching him and people are looking at him and Makoto does not like this kind of look.
"Get your hands off me," he says for what may be the fiftieth time this afternoon.
Takao hugs him. "Aww, Mako-chan is such a tsundere!"
"Why do you have to say that so damn loudly? Get off of me!" Makoto pinches Takao's wrist and stomps on his foot, but his grip doesn't loosen at all.
"But I like you. I want to hug you."
"Don't say such embarrassing things where people can hear them," Makoto says. He knows his ears and cheeks are burning red right now.
Takao mercifully lets go at that moment. Makoto hastily tries to move out of the way, but Takao has already locked their fingers together. He's wearing gloves, so Makoto can't scratch at his bare skin. Instead, he grips as hard as he can. Takao doesn't seem to notice.
"I love you," he says.
"Oh, thank you," Makoto says and puts on his most disarming smile. Takao's fingers tighten in their grip. "Like I'd say that."
Takao smiles and kisses him on the cheek. Makoto wants to die.
175. Precise Touch (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou)
Shintarou's gotten a lot better at this, moves with much less hesitation. It isn't to say that he doesn't think carefully each time he slides a tile over, but he doesn't overdo it; he's not trying too hard to prove himself to Akashi. His conservative defense is well-thought-out and makes accommodations for many possible routes that Akashi could take. He counters with precision, slim bandaged fingers moving the tiles quickly. They've lost so much time already, haven't they?
Akashi wins, as always. Shintarou doesn't look surprised or upset; he only smiles. They could play again, but that can wait until later. There are other places Akashi would rather that precise, firm touch be.
176. Graduation (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo)
Kyoto is lovely in the early spring; the mist and the early-morning drizzle almost seem to dazzle under the streetlights, although Mibuchi wishes she'd remembered to bring an umbrella. It's a shame she has to leave, and she berates herself for being so damn sentimental—it's not like she's going to die or something, or like this one piece of paper is going to change her identity. But still, she's always been sentimental, has always remained attached to things for a bit too long. College and then a career of some sort lie ahead; it's all so frightening and coming on too quickly and she just wants to be six again when twenty was something out of reach instead of something too close.
The click of plastic on metal sounds, contrasting with the cars rushing through puddles. Akashi holds out his golf umbrella. It almost bumps against her head, but Akashi somehow manages to avoid it.
She doesn't know what to say to him about all of this. She doesn't know what's expected—should they break up? Stay together? Take a break? He hands her the umbrella at the next intersection and his arm snakes around her waist.
"My family's main house is in Tokyo," he says. "I can make arrangements to stay there at my leisure."
His tone is still a bit tentative—he, the ever-confident, all-seeing, all-knowing, Akashi Seijuurou, is unsure. He might just be as unsure as she is.
"There are…a lot of things to do in Tokyo," she ventures with a sly smile. "Leisure activities."
He chuckles.
Mibuchi's glad the umbrella is large enough to hide their faces when Akashi kisses her quite indecently.
177. Internet (Kasamatsu Yukio/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)
Kasamatsu swears if Hayakawa pulls him over to the computer to watch a cat video one more time he will actually lose it. And sure enough, two seconds after he decides this, Hayakawa pulls on his arm and drags him over to the screen where a cat is meowing and wiggling it ears.
"Isn't it cute, senpai? Isn't it? Isn't it?" And Kasamatsu pushes him away because he's getting too goddamn close again and when will he ever learn?
Hayakawa doesn't care. "But you think it's cute, senpai, don't you?"
"No." Kasamatsu folds his arms over his chest.
Hayakawa's face falls and he sinks down to the ground and he's so fucking melodramatic—but that's not the right word. He's too damn enthusiastic about every little thing, that's what.
"Get up, dumbass," Kasamatsu says, and Hayakawa complies, frown eradicated from his face already. And it's not like his smile is cute or anything, no way—but Kasamatsu's lips are moving upward out of what is most definitely their own accord. And they meet Hayakawa's just as he's about to start talking again—it's only to make him shut up, okay?
178. Cats (Midorima Shintarou/Kise Ryouta)
The thing blinks at him, squeezing its eyes together in a sort of mocking gesture. Midorima steps backward slowly and carefully. It yawns, baring its rows of sharp fangs and if Midorima didn't know any better he'd say the cat was grinning evilly at him. It's taking all of Midorima's willpower to not run down the street right now. His hands are shaking and his teeth are clenched. He tries to take a deep breath, but only shudders. The cat stands up and arches its back. Midorima almost falls to the ground in surprise. Then the cat all of a sudden spins on its heels and runs off under a car.
"Midorimacchi!" The source of the cat's distress becomes apparent. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, this time succeeding in taking a deep breath.
"I saved you from the big, mean kitty," Kise says, draping an arm around Midorima's shoulders.
Midorima blushes. "It's not funny."
"Of course it's not," Kise says. "You should thank me for saving you."
"No way," Midorima says. "I was just about to scare it off on my own."
"Aww, just admit that you needed a handsome prince to rescue you."
"Handsome prince, my ass," Midorima says.
Kise puffs out his cheeks.
"Thanks, I guess," Midorima mutters under his breath.
Kise grins.
