So I joined an LJ community for Hot Gimmick: 100 challenge. Here's what I've come up with so far…fair warning they're all citrus…..

#24: Terminal Illness

When it had finally happened, part of him regretted that it ever did.

It was…like catching a disease.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about it.

Her.

And him.

What they had done.

What they could do.

Shit!

She was too close to him again.

He watched her sleep for another two seconds before frowning and poking her awake.

Sleepy doe eyes and the way she murmured his name made him all the more determined.

"Ryoki?"

He sucked in his breath and pressed himself against her.

"Again. I wanna do it again."

He was diseased.

And he'd die without her.

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#50: You Think Too Much

"Tell me how you feel."

She finds that she can't answer.

Not when he's doing this to her.

Not when he's holding her gaze with all too knowing eyes.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to her shoulder, his grip loosens on her hips and he changes rhythm.

She forgets to breathe, her fingers dig reflexively into his upper arm.

"Hatsumi, how does it feel?" He nudges her again, lips covering her face like a blanket: eyes, cheeks, forehead, chin, lips. And finally, she answers, although he has to strain to hear it.

"Ry-ryoki…nuh-nice…It feels…" She loses the words in the process, her eyes squeeze shut again, she bites her lower lip.

Ryoki decides to give up on the issue. For once, he realizes that Hatsumi's right. He's thinking too much.

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#19: This Is Just a Dream

She woke up, once, to find him leaning over her, kissing her body. She watched him work, his lips passing over one breast and then to the other, fingers skimming along her belly before coming to rest on her hip, warm breath slowly marching upward toward her neck. He caught her eyes then, figured she was been staring, and then only answered her with, "You're fucking beautiful, Hatsumi." She felt herself blush and looked away --this was not real, it was not happening, he would never say anything like that in real life. After a few moments she felt safe enough to look back and found that Ryoki had returned to his previous work. The steady breath was back on her throat, lips played with the flesh behind her ear, hand migrated down to her inner thigh.

And he was speaking again. The low words resonated in her ear, "You're like a dream, Hatsumi."

"A-ah." His hand was rising again, to settle between her legs. "A dream?"

"Yes." He leaned in for a kiss, muttering into her mouth, "But if you wake me up, I'm going to seriously hurt you."

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Like Her (#11-not perfect)

For once, he isn't perfect and he has no one to blame but her.

Her moans are too soft and eager.

Her body fits too well against him.

She encourages him too much: too many words, kisses, and caresses.

He wants to yell at her to stop, that it shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be so hard to stay in control. He's supposed to be perfect.

He wants it to last longer.

He tries feebly to think of something else--anything else--that'll keep this from ending the way it always does.

But her voice always pulls him back and he starts to see the familiar flashes of brilliant light.

He's going to do it again.

He's going to finish fast and hard.

He wishes he were more perfect.

Like her.