#41 Theme 01: Ain't Afraid to Die - Dir en Grey; Tora/Hiroto
Title: Playing with Fire
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 01 Ain't Afraid to Die (Dir en Grey)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: AU, smut, fluff, vampires, blood
Comments: Hiroto was sure he wasn't supposed to want this. This was inspired by diamond_fall's drabble Blood Bonds (Liens du Sang).
Playing with Fire
His voice was rough. Like the lightest hint of stubble scraping up a bare thigh, wet warm lips and stinging metal spike. He spoke words like crushed velvet, deep red and soft, lining their antique parlor seats and filling the air with cigarette smelling lies. And like everything else about Tora, that voice drew him in.
"Hiroto, come here."
Stepping into the room, his lowered eyes flickered towards the heavily draped curtains before returning to the floor again. It was a practiced movement, a ploy to get what he wanted more often than not. Licking his lips, Hiroto ignored the half naked man sitting in the middle of the room, milky white chest almost glowing in the dim light, and slid towards a shaded window. They were pulled shut out of habit tonight, rich tassels unfurled and drapes only blocking their view of the starry bright sky. Fingering a loose thread, he cast Tora a sidelong glance and smirked. The other was eyeing him expectantly, one sharp brow raised in what could have passed for annoyance but was offset by the amused glint in gold tinted eyes. He beckoned with a finger.
Taking his time, Hiroto slowly walked back to the center of the room and dropped to his knees knowingly. Tora's feet were bare on the carpet and he nudged them to the side, kneeling between his legs and inhaling deeply. Hiroto looked up into his face and let the breath back out.
"How many did you kill this time?" he whispered, burying his hands into the cotton of the other's sweats. There was a short pause before Tora answered.
"A few," he muttered vaguely, "Some bums on the street."
Hiroto nodded and let his chilly limbs be pulled up into a warm embrace. He could smell them, each one of them, on Tora's breath, on his skin, taste them on the lips he persuaded into a deep kiss. They weren't just bums on the street. Bums stank too much of alcohol, the staleness of their food and the salty earth beneath their bare feet. Tora was lying again - he hadn't killed a single street dweller tonight.
"Bums were they?" he murmured thickly into the kiss, shifting so he could straddle Tora's lap and grind down onto the growing hardness beneath him. His tongue licked sweetly at the insides of Tora's mouth, delving deeper for a taste and pulling back short of breath.
"Yep," the other snorted, "Killed every last one of them just for you."
It was another lie. Tora didn't kill. They were supposed to, supposed to seek out prey, kill them and feed. It was an effort to hide their existence - a race of something more than human that fed on humans. But Hiroto made him want to break all the rules.
"I like you warm," he whispered, forehead pressed to Tora's neck and reveling in the soft heat emanating from a pulse quicker than his. It was comforting, reassuring in the face of what was to come and Hiroto smiled at Tora's thoughtfulness, nuzzling closer and pressing soft kisses to the spot. He missed the small shred of humanity, the warmth he used to feel in the pads of his own fingertips. But he couldn't turn back time and he wasn't sure if he wanted to any more. Warms hands soothed up the cool skin of his spine and he shivered.
"Are you sure about this?" The words were mumbled into his collarbone, brushed across his skin on pierced lips and a flicking tongue. Hiroto tipped his head back for more.
"Sure sure," he hissed, teeth sinking into his own bottom lip as Tora mirrored the action against the tendons of his neck.
The wet heat on his skin felt delicious, achingly nostalgic. For him it was simply a reminder but to Tora, he knew, every day was a new road paved, another path plotted on the map of a decades-long guilt trip. That was why he was doing this, why he broke the rules and then some; thought himself circles that were unconventional and yet still trapped inside their box of eternity.
It started with small things as simple as breathing.
Before Hiroto, Tora did as expected. He killed when he was hungry, slept away most of the day hidden in the dark. Before he was quiet and spent most of his time avoiding contact with the outside world. It was only in the light of the luckiest of shooting stars, the fullest of full moons and darkest of eclipsed suns that Tora was able to meet Hiroto out in the mountains, gazing at the sky.
Before Hiroto, Tora had barely given his own self any thought. He wasn't a real person anymore, was he? Just another worthless parasite overpopulating the Earth. The urge to feed was irrepressible, but there were certain things he could still control.
Before Hiroto, Tora had ceased to breathe.
He held off the hunger for as long as he could, until his heart beat slowed to an almost standstill. The younger man had somehow breathed new life in him, made him see just how beautiful and wondrous the world was and always had been. How beautiful he himself was. And then Hiroto had taught him that rules were made for the breaking and he shouldn't feel guilty about not wanting to be alone.
Now, Tora didn't kill. He took just enough and moved on to the next person, sated his hunger without going to the extreme - it was risky, though. And for a day like this, for this occasion, to have the warmth Hiroto craved, he needed to feed from more than one person. Borrowed heat, stolen blood, another face to remember and avoid. But at least these days he could breathe.
Sliding his hands down slim hips, Tora knew it was worth it.
---
Hiroto was sure he wasn't supposed to want this.
It wasn't forbidden.
It just didn't make any sense.
With the first breath he drew after his heart turned cold, not much had made sense - many things still didn't make sense. The sudden thirsts, the faintness and fatigue during what used to be perfectly normal mornings. Tora did his best to explain, to reassure, but there was still too much the older man took for granted, too many things he'd ingrained into himself and lost on years of silence and obedience.
He moaned softly as hands slid past the brim of his pants.
"What are you doing?"
Tora pushed the kitchen door all the way open and peered around the frame.
From inside, the sounds of sizzling food and scraping pans met his ears. Hiroto was bustling around the kitchen, chopping up a colorful array of foods and throwing them onto the stove. It smelled overwhelmingly of grease in the rarely used kitchen - no one ever cooked - but Tora paid none of that any of his attention. All he could see was the sliver of sunlight, leaking in through a purposely parted curtain, a golden ray that sliced through the familiar dim and seemed to illuminate the entire room.
"Making breakfast," Hiroto replied, brows rising up into his fringe as he flipped their food onto plates. "It is morning after all. Come eat."
Tora said nothing but visibly cringed as he watched the other step through the slip of sunlight to set two ceramic platefuls of omelet on a freshly laid tablecloth. Yes, it was morning, but not their morning. Seconds later the clatter of cutlery and heavy thump of juice and tea followed, but Tora still couldn't bring himself to sit.
"Why are the curtains open?" he croaked out from the doorway. It was bedtime for them, they should be asleep right now, tucked away, safe in the back of the house. His sleep had been interrupted by the small body shifting on the bed and padding away, which wasn't unusual but, when he hadn't returned, Tora grew restless.
Rolling his eyes, Hiroto walked up and tugged the other into the room, pulling out a chair and plopping him groggily into it. "It won't kill you to get some sunlight, you know," he replied matter-of-factly. "Look," he reached out to take Tora's hand.
"Hiroto," Tora's sleep rough voice was warning tinged with fear and panic.
"Look," Hiroto assured in a confident tone. He dragged their hands into the warm light then, fingers intertwined, and grip tight. Tora winced again at the sight, waiting for his arm to burst into flames or at least start boiling from the inside out. But he didn't.
"See? We're not dead, it doesn't even hurt that much," Hiroto grinned, thankfully allowing Tora to pull his hand back into the safety of the shade. "Just because people say we're different, doesn't mean we can't live like we used to. And just because you think all we need is blood for food, doesn't mean we can't eat normal meals like we used to."
And he was right. It hadn't hurt, just the lightest tingling of skin that would have probably burned if their hands had lingered longer in the sunlight. And eating proper meals wasn't such a terrible idea either.
Hiroto had showed him so much in such a short time, Tora wondered what he would have done without him.
It was like learning how to live all over again.
Hiroto taught him something new every day.
---
They moved to a different seat in the parlor, shedding what little clothing they had while leaving a trail of lingering touches on bare skin. This seat was no different from the others, identical in its opulent red velvet and intricate gold gilding, but it mattered all the same. Tora surprised him by pressing one last kiss to his cheek before bending him over the couch. Straight to the point then, Hiroto thought with a wry smile, but it didn't matter as long as he got what he wanted tonight. And so he held onto the back of the couch without complaint, knees sinking into crimson cushions as slick fingers slid down his back and pressed them farther apart.
Tora hadn't even realized he was attracted to him until Hiroto was pressed flush to his front, warms hands slipping under his shirt and lips tentatively searching for more. He hadn't realized it was still possible to feel aroused like this, let alone by the same sex. Blinking uncertainly, Tora slowly eased them apart.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I mean I don't know what I -" Tora hushed him with a finger. "You aren't mad are you?" Hiroto whispered around the digit, unsure what the expression on the older man's face could possibly mean. He knew Tora was conservative at heart, had been alone for far too long, but he was working changing that.
Tora on the other hand, was surprised at how stiff Hiroto had suddenly become when not seconds ago he had been all pliant, eager limbs. "I'm not mad, Hiroto. I'd never get mad at you for this," he soothed, gently cupping the flushed face in front of him. It wasn't like he was hurting him; this felt good.
"I'm… just a little new to this…" he whispered.
After all he was still learning so much from the pretty bundle in his lap but, at the least, Tora knew he wanted to keep him. "You'll have to teach me, hmm?" he hummed, leaning in for another, much more responsive kiss.
Everything had spiraled beautifully after that. The first time they had sex, Tora had been the one sinking into hot hot heat; now, years later, it was Hiroto's turn to shiver under warm touches, moan and push back needily when Tora finally slid into him. But after a few well aimed thrusts he wasn't even allowed that. Tora held his hips in an immovable grip. His inhuman strength kept Hiroto where he wanted, where there was just enough friction and yet not enough. He whined low in his throat, voicing his displeasure and glaring over his shoulder, but it was pretty hard to look threatening butt naked and lips parted. It earned him a small chuckle and kiss to his shoulder blade though. Tora complied with hard thrusts in response, sweet and rough and everything Hiroto loved - it was his night after all.
And even though it was his night, there was nothing any more special about it, just desperate movements to get them where they wanted, to finish before Tora burned off all his warm-blooded heat. But neither of them cared. Panting from the physical exertion and dripping actual warm drops of sweat down his temples, Tora released his harsh grip on Hiroto's hips to reach around with one hand and stroke him closer and closer to the edge.
Hiroto gasped as the cushions dipped and Tora slid deeper, the weight of a second body draped over his back pushing him further and further. Another arm, slick with sweat, wrapped over his shoulder and around his neck, pulling their bodies as close as possible until there was only room for Tora's hips to undulate against his ass. Hiroto's eyes roved towards the only clock in the room before rolling back in his head. "Feels good," he gasped to the other's strained smirk. Faster. His back was arched at an almost painful angle, but it was the perfect position for Tora to brushing teasingly against his prostate, over and over and he needed more. "Tora," he hissed, rocking his hips back as much as he could and biting his lip.
Groaning, Tora buried his face in Hiroto's neck and silenced his small whimpers with three long fingers in the mouth. Almost. Hiroto breathed heavily in through his nose and nipped at the digits, shivering all over as he sucked and licked up the blood spilling onto his tongue and over his lips. It was messy and dirty, fast, saliva and red sliding down his chin, but so good. He could feel Tora panting softly against his skin at the sharp pain, could imagine the other's canine's lengthened, eyes swirling with color as they climbed higher and higher in a experience of sheer feeling.
"Tora," he moaned between the slick fingers in his mouth. Please. Don't back out on me now.
And then there was light.
With a sharp cry Hiroto came.
Soft burn soaked his skin and numbing tingles traveled through his limbs, making the world fall apart into shuddery shockwaves of sun as he orgasmed. Gritting his teeth as it grew hotter, Tora gave one final thrust before he came too, pulling his bloody fingers from Hiroto's mouth and tipping his head back to replaced them with his lips. It was a deep kiss, hard and demanding, but short lived.
Reaching over, Tora tugged the drapes shut against the sun before flopping back onto the sofa with a sated sigh of relief. Hiroto followed soon after and he let the smaller man lick his fingers clean, a sloppy, indulgent smile spreading across his face when Hiroto picked up his other hand and began lapping at his own release. He'd been a bit apprehensive about the whole idea, still scared, almost decided not to go through with it, but now, with Hiroto grinning on his chest, it seemed like it was definitely worth it.
A light that didn't burn shined vibrantly in the younger's eyes and Tora wanted to bottle it all up and bask in it every day.
"Happy birthday you kinky, sun-loving freak."
A/N:
Err… I was highly inspired at the time! But then I took too long writing and my muses got stale…
I'm almost done with my 50stories challenge you guyssss :DDDD 9 more and I'm done!!!
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 01 Ain't Afraid to Die (Dir en Grey)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: AU, smut, fluff, vampires, blood
Comments: Hiroto was sure he wasn't supposed to want this. This was inspired by diamond_fall's drabble Blood Bonds (Liens du Sang).
Playing with Fire
His voice was rough. Like the lightest hint of stubble scraping up a bare thigh, wet warm lips and stinging metal spike. He spoke words like crushed velvet, deep red and soft, lining their antique parlor seats and filling the air with cigarette smelling lies. And like everything else about Tora, that voice drew him in.
"Hiroto, come here."
Stepping into the room, his lowered eyes flickered towards the heavily draped curtains before returning to the floor again. It was a practiced movement, a ploy to get what he wanted more often than not. Licking his lips, Hiroto ignored the half naked man sitting in the middle of the room, milky white chest almost glowing in the dim light, and slid towards a shaded window. They were pulled shut out of habit tonight, rich tassels unfurled and drapes only blocking their view of the starry bright sky. Fingering a loose thread, he cast Tora a sidelong glance and smirked. The other was eyeing him expectantly, one sharp brow raised in what could have passed for annoyance but was offset by the amused glint in gold tinted eyes. He beckoned with a finger.
Taking his time, Hiroto slowly walked back to the center of the room and dropped to his knees knowingly. Tora's feet were bare on the carpet and he nudged them to the side, kneeling between his legs and inhaling deeply. Hiroto looked up into his face and let the breath back out.
"How many did you kill this time?" he whispered, burying his hands into the cotton of the other's sweats. There was a short pause before Tora answered.
"A few," he muttered vaguely, "Some bums on the street."
Hiroto nodded and let his chilly limbs be pulled up into a warm embrace. He could smell them, each one of them, on Tora's breath, on his skin, taste them on the lips he persuaded into a deep kiss. They weren't just bums on the street. Bums stank too much of alcohol, the staleness of their food and the salty earth beneath their bare feet. Tora was lying again - he hadn't killed a single street dweller tonight.
"Bums were they?" he murmured thickly into the kiss, shifting so he could straddle Tora's lap and grind down onto the growing hardness beneath him. His tongue licked sweetly at the insides of Tora's mouth, delving deeper for a taste and pulling back short of breath.
"Yep," the other snorted, "Killed every last one of them just for you."
It was another lie. Tora didn't kill. They were supposed to, supposed to seek out prey, kill them and feed. It was an effort to hide their existence - a race of something more than human that fed on humans. But Hiroto made him want to break all the rules.
"I like you warm," he whispered, forehead pressed to Tora's neck and reveling in the soft heat emanating from a pulse quicker than his. It was comforting, reassuring in the face of what was to come and Hiroto smiled at Tora's thoughtfulness, nuzzling closer and pressing soft kisses to the spot. He missed the small shred of humanity, the warmth he used to feel in the pads of his own fingertips. But he couldn't turn back time and he wasn't sure if he wanted to any more. Warms hands soothed up the cool skin of his spine and he shivered.
"Are you sure about this?" The words were mumbled into his collarbone, brushed across his skin on pierced lips and a flicking tongue. Hiroto tipped his head back for more.
"Sure sure," he hissed, teeth sinking into his own bottom lip as Tora mirrored the action against the tendons of his neck.
The wet heat on his skin felt delicious, achingly nostalgic. For him it was simply a reminder but to Tora, he knew, every day was a new road paved, another path plotted on the map of a decades-long guilt trip. That was why he was doing this, why he broke the rules and then some; thought himself circles that were unconventional and yet still trapped inside their box of eternity.
It started with small things as simple as breathing.
Before Hiroto, Tora did as expected. He killed when he was hungry, slept away most of the day hidden in the dark. Before he was quiet and spent most of his time avoiding contact with the outside world. It was only in the light of the luckiest of shooting stars, the fullest of full moons and darkest of eclipsed suns that Tora was able to meet Hiroto out in the mountains, gazing at the sky.
Before Hiroto, Tora had barely given his own self any thought. He wasn't a real person anymore, was he? Just another worthless parasite overpopulating the Earth. The urge to feed was irrepressible, but there were certain things he could still control.
Before Hiroto, Tora had ceased to breathe.
He held off the hunger for as long as he could, until his heart beat slowed to an almost standstill. The younger man had somehow breathed new life in him, made him see just how beautiful and wondrous the world was and always had been. How beautiful he himself was. And then Hiroto had taught him that rules were made for the breaking and he shouldn't feel guilty about not wanting to be alone.
Now, Tora didn't kill. He took just enough and moved on to the next person, sated his hunger without going to the extreme - it was risky, though. And for a day like this, for this occasion, to have the warmth Hiroto craved, he needed to feed from more than one person. Borrowed heat, stolen blood, another face to remember and avoid. But at least these days he could breathe.
Sliding his hands down slim hips, Tora knew it was worth it.
---
Hiroto was sure he wasn't supposed to want this.
It wasn't forbidden.
It just didn't make any sense.
With the first breath he drew after his heart turned cold, not much had made sense - many things still didn't make sense. The sudden thirsts, the faintness and fatigue during what used to be perfectly normal mornings. Tora did his best to explain, to reassure, but there was still too much the older man took for granted, too many things he'd ingrained into himself and lost on years of silence and obedience.
He moaned softly as hands slid past the brim of his pants.
"What are you doing?"
Tora pushed the kitchen door all the way open and peered around the frame.
From inside, the sounds of sizzling food and scraping pans met his ears. Hiroto was bustling around the kitchen, chopping up a colorful array of foods and throwing them onto the stove. It smelled overwhelmingly of grease in the rarely used kitchen - no one ever cooked - but Tora paid none of that any of his attention. All he could see was the sliver of sunlight, leaking in through a purposely parted curtain, a golden ray that sliced through the familiar dim and seemed to illuminate the entire room.
"Making breakfast," Hiroto replied, brows rising up into his fringe as he flipped their food onto plates. "It is morning after all. Come eat."
Tora said nothing but visibly cringed as he watched the other step through the slip of sunlight to set two ceramic platefuls of omelet on a freshly laid tablecloth. Yes, it was morning, but not their morning. Seconds later the clatter of cutlery and heavy thump of juice and tea followed, but Tora still couldn't bring himself to sit.
"Why are the curtains open?" he croaked out from the doorway. It was bedtime for them, they should be asleep right now, tucked away, safe in the back of the house. His sleep had been interrupted by the small body shifting on the bed and padding away, which wasn't unusual but, when he hadn't returned, Tora grew restless.
Rolling his eyes, Hiroto walked up and tugged the other into the room, pulling out a chair and plopping him groggily into it. "It won't kill you to get some sunlight, you know," he replied matter-of-factly. "Look," he reached out to take Tora's hand.
"Hiroto," Tora's sleep rough voice was warning tinged with fear and panic.
"Look," Hiroto assured in a confident tone. He dragged their hands into the warm light then, fingers intertwined, and grip tight. Tora winced again at the sight, waiting for his arm to burst into flames or at least start boiling from the inside out. But he didn't.
"See? We're not dead, it doesn't even hurt that much," Hiroto grinned, thankfully allowing Tora to pull his hand back into the safety of the shade. "Just because people say we're different, doesn't mean we can't live like we used to. And just because you think all we need is blood for food, doesn't mean we can't eat normal meals like we used to."
And he was right. It hadn't hurt, just the lightest tingling of skin that would have probably burned if their hands had lingered longer in the sunlight. And eating proper meals wasn't such a terrible idea either.
Hiroto had showed him so much in such a short time, Tora wondered what he would have done without him.
It was like learning how to live all over again.
Hiroto taught him something new every day.
---
They moved to a different seat in the parlor, shedding what little clothing they had while leaving a trail of lingering touches on bare skin. This seat was no different from the others, identical in its opulent red velvet and intricate gold gilding, but it mattered all the same. Tora surprised him by pressing one last kiss to his cheek before bending him over the couch. Straight to the point then, Hiroto thought with a wry smile, but it didn't matter as long as he got what he wanted tonight. And so he held onto the back of the couch without complaint, knees sinking into crimson cushions as slick fingers slid down his back and pressed them farther apart.
Tora hadn't even realized he was attracted to him until Hiroto was pressed flush to his front, warms hands slipping under his shirt and lips tentatively searching for more. He hadn't realized it was still possible to feel aroused like this, let alone by the same sex. Blinking uncertainly, Tora slowly eased them apart.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I mean I don't know what I -" Tora hushed him with a finger. "You aren't mad are you?" Hiroto whispered around the digit, unsure what the expression on the older man's face could possibly mean. He knew Tora was conservative at heart, had been alone for far too long, but he was working changing that.
Tora on the other hand, was surprised at how stiff Hiroto had suddenly become when not seconds ago he had been all pliant, eager limbs. "I'm not mad, Hiroto. I'd never get mad at you for this," he soothed, gently cupping the flushed face in front of him. It wasn't like he was hurting him; this felt good.
"I'm… just a little new to this…" he whispered.
After all he was still learning so much from the pretty bundle in his lap but, at the least, Tora knew he wanted to keep him. "You'll have to teach me, hmm?" he hummed, leaning in for another, much more responsive kiss.
Everything had spiraled beautifully after that. The first time they had sex, Tora had been the one sinking into hot hot heat; now, years later, it was Hiroto's turn to shiver under warm touches, moan and push back needily when Tora finally slid into him. But after a few well aimed thrusts he wasn't even allowed that. Tora held his hips in an immovable grip. His inhuman strength kept Hiroto where he wanted, where there was just enough friction and yet not enough. He whined low in his throat, voicing his displeasure and glaring over his shoulder, but it was pretty hard to look threatening butt naked and lips parted. It earned him a small chuckle and kiss to his shoulder blade though. Tora complied with hard thrusts in response, sweet and rough and everything Hiroto loved - it was his night after all.
And even though it was his night, there was nothing any more special about it, just desperate movements to get them where they wanted, to finish before Tora burned off all his warm-blooded heat. But neither of them cared. Panting from the physical exertion and dripping actual warm drops of sweat down his temples, Tora released his harsh grip on Hiroto's hips to reach around with one hand and stroke him closer and closer to the edge.
Hiroto gasped as the cushions dipped and Tora slid deeper, the weight of a second body draped over his back pushing him further and further. Another arm, slick with sweat, wrapped over his shoulder and around his neck, pulling their bodies as close as possible until there was only room for Tora's hips to undulate against his ass. Hiroto's eyes roved towards the only clock in the room before rolling back in his head. "Feels good," he gasped to the other's strained smirk. Faster. His back was arched at an almost painful angle, but it was the perfect position for Tora to brushing teasingly against his prostate, over and over and he needed more. "Tora," he hissed, rocking his hips back as much as he could and biting his lip.
Groaning, Tora buried his face in Hiroto's neck and silenced his small whimpers with three long fingers in the mouth. Almost. Hiroto breathed heavily in through his nose and nipped at the digits, shivering all over as he sucked and licked up the blood spilling onto his tongue and over his lips. It was messy and dirty, fast, saliva and red sliding down his chin, but so good. He could feel Tora panting softly against his skin at the sharp pain, could imagine the other's canine's lengthened, eyes swirling with color as they climbed higher and higher in a experience of sheer feeling.
"Tora," he moaned between the slick fingers in his mouth. Please. Don't back out on me now.
And then there was light.
With a sharp cry Hiroto came.
Soft burn soaked his skin and numbing tingles traveled through his limbs, making the world fall apart into shuddery shockwaves of sun as he orgasmed. Gritting his teeth as it grew hotter, Tora gave one final thrust before he came too, pulling his bloody fingers from Hiroto's mouth and tipping his head back to replaced them with his lips. It was a deep kiss, hard and demanding, but short lived.
Reaching over, Tora tugged the drapes shut against the sun before flopping back onto the sofa with a sated sigh of relief. Hiroto followed soon after and he let the smaller man lick his fingers clean, a sloppy, indulgent smile spreading across his face when Hiroto picked up his other hand and began lapping at his own release. He'd been a bit apprehensive about the whole idea, still scared, almost decided not to go through with it, but now, with Hiroto grinning on his chest, it seemed like it was definitely worth it.
A light that didn't burn shined vibrantly in the younger's eyes and Tora wanted to bottle it all up and bask in it every day.
"Happy birthday you kinky, sun-loving freak."
A/N:
Err… I was highly inspired at the time! But then I took too long writing and my muses got stale…
I'm almost done with my 50stories challenge you guyssss :DDDD 9 more and I'm done!!!
Archive