[Drabble] Silenced
Title: Silenced
Fandom: HIGH & LOW
Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki/Cobra
Genre: angst
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot
Summary: It's only real until it's over.
Silenced
Mouth against mouth, teeth on a war, biting skin until it hurts, until it’s bleeding. Hands groping here and there, every inch of the skin, naked or not. It’s been too long tonight to remember who started it, to remember who got on top, to remember who ended up taking the lead. They should be breaking it up soon, separate, like always, but it’s even more difficult this night for some reason.
Murayama chases another kiss, bruising his already swollen lips, pulling Cobra down on top, because he’s given him that tonight, he’ll give him the right to do whatever he wants if it means staying a little longer. There is not enough time, never is, but he’s greedy and can’t say no, and maybe tonight Cobra can’t, either, because he buries his fingers into Murayama’s hair, somehow unable to pull away.
There’s a phone vibrating again, the 4th time, impossible to say who it belongs to. Cobra actually does turn his head a little, tries to look down on the floor to see if it’s his, but Murayama holds his face immediately, forces him to look back, all his despair pouring out again.
“Ignore them, just a little fucking longer…” he breathes, can’t really form words when he’s feeling like this, so full of emotions he cannot tame, when he’s one step away from begging, because the night will turn to day eventually, and under the light of the sun, it’s like nothing has ever happened. It seems to work again, to the point Murayama can’t actually believe it himself, that he’s managed to keep Cobra here for so long, has managed to break through his walls and his constant time-checking. He’s pinned down, the kisses turning rougher now, moving from his mouth to his jaw, then to his neck, until broken moans spill from his lips, until his skin is burning.
They’re a mess, just like every small or big thing in Murayama’s life. But he’ll still choose this mess over nothing, anytime.
He’s breathless by the time Cobra actually manages to detach himself, move away and reach for his clothes. It turns out it was really his phone vibrating and not Murayama’s, nothing serious, just random suggestions for the night from the guys. Murayama watches him, his bare back that he has marked again tonight, marks that will fade soon, erasing all that’s been taking place between them as well. Maybe Cobra senses his gaze, piercing and lingering and intense, because he turns around, stares at him with that solemn look that irritates Murayama to no end, but still only makes him crave for more. He doesn’t move, can’t give in now that Cobra is in the middle of getting dressed, wouldn’t be able to convince him to stay longer.
Cobra does move, though, enough to be able to touch him, and maybe this is the first slow kiss they share tonight, painfully good and filled of what they are. Secret, unsure.
“Stop.” He murmurs on his lips, breathes that one single word that only makes Murayama want to grab him and keep him there forever. Stop overthinking, stop dwelling on this, stop listening.
He understands, and that’s what hurts him the most. He understands, he’s afraid too, of what could happen if anyone knew, if the other teams knew, if people took advantage of that information. He understands why it’s all about pretending out there. But there’s nothing to pretend here, when they are together like that.
“…go.” He urges Cobra in the end, every inch of his soul aching when he has to say the word, but it’s better to send him off like this than to let him leave on his own. He’s pressed back immediately again, Cobra’s fingers on his face as he steals yet another kiss, robs him of oxygen yet again, and still Murayama gives into it, lifts his own hands up to pull him closer, taste more, touch more, feel more.
And then the fire is out again, and Cobra is quickly putting the rest of his clothes on, fixes his hair as best as he can, slides his phone in his pocket before he slowly disappears, until next time. Until the next time it will be safe for them to meet like this.
.............................................................................................................................................................
Fandom: HIGH & LOW
Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki/Cobra
Genre: angst
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot
Summary: It's only real until it's over.
Silenced
Mouth against mouth, teeth on a war, biting skin until it hurts, until it’s bleeding. Hands groping here and there, every inch of the skin, naked or not. It’s been too long tonight to remember who started it, to remember who got on top, to remember who ended up taking the lead. They should be breaking it up soon, separate, like always, but it’s even more difficult this night for some reason.
Murayama chases another kiss, bruising his already swollen lips, pulling Cobra down on top, because he’s given him that tonight, he’ll give him the right to do whatever he wants if it means staying a little longer. There is not enough time, never is, but he’s greedy and can’t say no, and maybe tonight Cobra can’t, either, because he buries his fingers into Murayama’s hair, somehow unable to pull away.
There’s a phone vibrating again, the 4th time, impossible to say who it belongs to. Cobra actually does turn his head a little, tries to look down on the floor to see if it’s his, but Murayama holds his face immediately, forces him to look back, all his despair pouring out again.
“Ignore them, just a little fucking longer…” he breathes, can’t really form words when he’s feeling like this, so full of emotions he cannot tame, when he’s one step away from begging, because the night will turn to day eventually, and under the light of the sun, it’s like nothing has ever happened. It seems to work again, to the point Murayama can’t actually believe it himself, that he’s managed to keep Cobra here for so long, has managed to break through his walls and his constant time-checking. He’s pinned down, the kisses turning rougher now, moving from his mouth to his jaw, then to his neck, until broken moans spill from his lips, until his skin is burning.
They’re a mess, just like every small or big thing in Murayama’s life. But he’ll still choose this mess over nothing, anytime.
He’s breathless by the time Cobra actually manages to detach himself, move away and reach for his clothes. It turns out it was really his phone vibrating and not Murayama’s, nothing serious, just random suggestions for the night from the guys. Murayama watches him, his bare back that he has marked again tonight, marks that will fade soon, erasing all that’s been taking place between them as well. Maybe Cobra senses his gaze, piercing and lingering and intense, because he turns around, stares at him with that solemn look that irritates Murayama to no end, but still only makes him crave for more. He doesn’t move, can’t give in now that Cobra is in the middle of getting dressed, wouldn’t be able to convince him to stay longer.
Cobra does move, though, enough to be able to touch him, and maybe this is the first slow kiss they share tonight, painfully good and filled of what they are. Secret, unsure.
“Stop.” He murmurs on his lips, breathes that one single word that only makes Murayama want to grab him and keep him there forever. Stop overthinking, stop dwelling on this, stop listening.
He understands, and that’s what hurts him the most. He understands, he’s afraid too, of what could happen if anyone knew, if the other teams knew, if people took advantage of that information. He understands why it’s all about pretending out there. But there’s nothing to pretend here, when they are together like that.
“…go.” He urges Cobra in the end, every inch of his soul aching when he has to say the word, but it’s better to send him off like this than to let him leave on his own. He’s pressed back immediately again, Cobra’s fingers on his face as he steals yet another kiss, robs him of oxygen yet again, and still Murayama gives into it, lifts his own hands up to pull him closer, taste more, touch more, feel more.
And then the fire is out again, and Cobra is quickly putting the rest of his clothes on, fixes his hair as best as he can, slides his phone in his pocket before he slowly disappears, until next time. Until the next time it will be safe for them to meet like this.
.............................................................................................................................................................