Eight Kisses
haoxjeanne
a.k.a. what i speculate marriage life for Hao and Jeanne. XD.
slightAU.
warning: sap, mild sexual situations.
#1
He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Hello, my strong and beautiful Iron Maiden Jeanne." His kiss traveled all the way up, across her nape, to tease against ivory, pale skin, before touching against her ear lobe, then retreating purposefully.
Stray strands of hair tickled against his nose, as she shoved him away before he could lean in and snatch another kiss from her lips.
"Brush your teeth first, Hao." She intentionally laced acid with her words, forcing herself to look stern in hope to kick her husband to the toilet.
But he only made a face. Typical of him. He gave her those puppy eyes (no, not those puppy eyes, Jeanne thought) that he knew she couldn't resist. He was right.
"So you won't even greet your husband good morning? Ouch, I'm hurt." He held his hand to his chest, mocked a heart seizure or something, that only made her laugh. He had to smirk, as he propped himself up against his elbow, looking down at her. He liked her laughter.
"You're an idiot, Hao." Her eyes met his.
And he took the chance to push himself down atop her, and kiss her.
"Good morning, my wife."
#2
"It's such a bright sun." Jeanne held up her hand to shield herself from the blinding rays as she drew the draws of the blue curtains in their rooms. She drew in a breath, as she felt his arms encircling around her small waist like he always did to make her feel in the morning.
A year and counting, and she was still as sensitive to his touch as ever. She turned to glare at him in his arms, "Have you brushed?"
He flashed his pearly white teeth, "Checked!" He declared triumphantly.
"Liar."
"Would you prefer to smell my breath, hmm, Jeanne?" And he teased her by drawing her closer to his body, providing for warmth, as she poked him in the chest, her ruby eyes notorious for being used to glaring her husband down when he resorted to inflating his own ego.
"I'd rather not, chicken breath."
"Liar, why not have a taste while you're at it?" And he snatched another kiss from her lips, before Jeanne could even have time to refuse.
#3
"You are cooking?" Hao entered the kitchen and stretched. Jeanne glared (again), as she flipped the pancakes on the frying pan.
"Something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong..." He didn't bother to hide a smirk. "Just...surprised, that's all."
"If you're going to insult me or something, you can forget about it, Asakura Hao." She warned him as she flipped the sides of the pancakes. Her husband had the cheek to lean against the kitchen wall, and use a finger to tip her chin up high.
"And what if I do?"
She flicked his finger away. "No breakfast." She said with a smirk on her face.
He made a face. "The irony of the century. Husband abusing."
She glared him down again and was about to say something when he enfolded his arms around her, and pulled her against his solid frame.
"Man, if you're going to be this worked up like this each time we're in bed--YEOW!"
She had whacked him with the frying pan. "You're eating out, Asakura Hao. Alone." And she placed a finger to his lips to prevent him from kissing her. Again. "And don't think I'll change my mind just because you're going to kiss me."
His eyes lit up with the proposed challenge. "Really? We'll see about that."
He proceeded to kiss her, anyway, and she did changed her mind later. They settled for burnt pancakes, because when they kissed (for approximately three minutes or so and ended up making out in the kitchen), they had ignored the pancakes in the meanwhile.
#4
"Jeanne, you're a messy eater."
"Hao," her voice was sickly sweet, "thank you for the compliment."
He dabbed some pancake remnants from her mouth, "You're welcome, wife."
His face was coming dangerously closer to her, and instinctively, she inched backwards. "Hao, I'm still eating my breakfast." She had to roll her eyes. She had a husband who could never ever stop touching her. Not like that was a bad thing, though, or she minded it really.
But she was, in reality, really still eating.
"So?" He asked, batting his eyes suggestively at her. He winked, and went on to steal the pancake from her plate. The last of it. It initiated a glare from her direction, aimed at him.
"I hope you die from the burnt pancakes."
"Ouch, how subtle. I didn't even realize it was a curse."
"Damn you, Hao."
He was closing in their distance, his forehead coming so close to hers, theirs were almost touching. She was eyeing him warily, and he was eyeing her lips hungrily. "Besides, if I were to die, you would probably miss me too much, huh."
"In your dreams."
"The sweetest, no doubt."
And before she could run away from the breakfast table, he had clamped his hand down on her wrist, not harshly, but firm enough to ensure she wouldn't get away, so he could kiss her and drown her with his pancake-tinged lips all over again.
#5
They were sitting outside the garden, at the table. She was across him, doing some Sudoku puzzles, and he was simply staring at her. He liked staring at her anyway, and had been doing so for the past years, and had never been sick of it.
And like always, like now, she would ask him, "Why do you always stare at me?"
"I like staring at you." He said unabashedly, as he leant his chin against his hand that was the trademark Hao style.
Jeanne colored uncharacteristically, but covered it with a smooth retort, "Hao, that won't do anything to earn you brownie points, you know."
"I know." The end of his lips were curling into an ever widening smile. With his bare feet, he touched it against hers, and purposefully rubbed it in a circular motion. He watched for her reaction, though he knew, from one year of being together, that she was still as sensitive to his touch.
Jeanne shifted in her seat. He had to smirk. She knew she was aroused, nevertheless. She glared at him.
Checkmate.
"Hao, stop it."
He continued to rub his leg against her, up and down. He knew he was breaking her concentrating on the Sudoku book. She was apparently distracted. He took the chance the move his chair towards her side, and then snatched the book from her hands.
"Hao, I'm trying to--"
And he kissed her. For the fifth time that day.
#6
Like every afternoon spent together, Jeanne would always take a short nap against Hao's shoulder on the sofa.
He fingered absently with her soft tresses that would occasionally tickle his nose as he smelt her peach-scented shampoo. A silly smile would faze his features, and he wouldn't bother to wipe it off.
He watched her sleep for a while, before leaning forward to press a kiss against her forehead. Jeanne murmured something in her sleep, and Hao smiled. No matter how, after over a year of marriage, she was still as sensitive to every physical contact between them, and it amazed him how he never got bored of her, and her touch either.
If anything, his desire and love for her, had grown even more overtime.
He caressed her cheeks, and she snuggled closer to his side, one hand coming to rest on his chest. He heard her labored breaths, and sensed she was asleep again.
"Hao..."
"Hmm?" He played along, though he knew she was dreaming already.
She didn't speak anymore, and when he bent down to kiss her lightly - the most exquisitely feather light kiss he had offered to her that day, it only took her a second to respond, snatched from her reverie of dreams.
Hao smiled against Jeanne's lips. Yeah, she was this sensitive against his touch.
#7
Hao heard droplets of water splashing against the bathroom floor, and he smiled cheekily, unwinding the door knob to allow himself in.
"Jeanne!"
"Hao, I did not invite you into the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure I locked the door."
The effects of magic were always something to behold still. He had not lost his touch, and he was glad.
"I'm coming in, Jeanne." He bypassed the large mirror, and took a good look of himself in it. Damn, he did always have to look so suave.
"Take a step further, and I'll summon Shamash after you."
"Heh, whatever, Jeanne, Spirit of Fire can devour your puny thing in nanoseconds."
"Damn you."
He had already stripped himself of his clothes, as he slid open the door to the bathroom.
"HAO, I remembered warning you." His wife's voice was steely.
"Yup, you did."
"So what happened--"
She didn't complete her sentence, Hao had incinerated it with another kiss of his, as he lunged himself into the bathroom tub to join her.
#8
Jeanne looked herself in the mirror, as she combed the hairbrush through her locks. She was in her white bathroom robe, cleaned out of a fresh shower, where Hao had claimed he had did an awesome job of 'washing her thoroughly' awhile ago with soap and shampoo.
Her cheeks flushed pink again, as she frowned at the mirror. That idiotic husband of hers with the size of an ego the Lake of Michigan. No, bigger.
Jeanne realized she had left her clothing in the bathroom, where Hao was still finishing his shower (that guy liked to soak in the tub for a really long while). She gave a sigh, cursed her carelessness, and stood up to go retrieve her stuff.
She was about to knock on the door, when it was yanked open so abruptly, that she lost her footing...if not for Hao catching her in time.
"Whoa, Jeanne," she noted he had caught his breath, "surely you could wait until we get to the bed again?"
His arms were snug around her small waist, and her hands - both, were against his strong, hard chest. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and shone with desire as he held her like a precious, fragile porcelain doll.
Their noses were almost touching, and Hao was cursing his heart for beating that loud in front of the woman he loved. But what the heck, he no longer cared, as he leant forth and brushed his forehead against hers. Their noses brushed, too.
"Not like I mind, though." He teased, though his voice was low and deep in his throat, abit husky, too.
Jeanne was glad he was holding her, because her limbs had gone numb all of a sudden. Him, Asakura Hao - her husband - half naked to the waist where only a towel was wrapped around himself, had severe effects on her - his wife, not any better with just a thin bathroom robe draped around her shoulders.
"Heh, you're going to hate me, but I'm going to kiss you." But he was doing it already, anyway, as he swoop his lips down to hers.
His hand came out to loosen the ribbon around her robe, so it now pooled to her feet.
And he carried their kiss all the way to the marriage bed.
owari
A/N:
that concludes my first ever HaoxJeanne! And as I've warned above, it's slightly AU, so do not ever ask me how Hao came back from his death, or flame me and say something like Shamash has ALREADY been devoured by Spirit of Fire, or how the heck did those Spirits reappear in this fic. Because some things just don't have to make sense! XD hehe.
hope i didn't get hao or jeanne too OOC, i tried to keep them in-character as best as i could, but it's pretty hard since this is my first HaoxJeanne after all. It'll take some getting used to! pardon, and arigatous!
cheers,
mysterio000