Tainted Ballerina.
Title: Tainted Ballerina.
Chapter: Oneshot
Author: chinesetakeout
Pairing: Bou/Kanon
Summary: Bou stood up and stretched, ribs visible as his back arched, his fingertips touching, the cigarette between his lips. He reminded Kanon of a ballerina, a tainted one at that.
Rating: PG13
Genre: romance, angst
Warnings: none.
Disclaimer: No.
Comments: Kanon/Bou requested by chaostie.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Kanon said into the silence. He heard Bou light a cigarette, heard him inhale slowly with near timed precision. Kanon counted in his head - one second, two seconds, three seconds, four.
Exhale.
It had always been like Bou to keep Kanon waiting.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Bou finally replied from his place on the couch, directly across from Kanon, his legs crossed, body oddly relaxed. He was in the baby blue sweat pants he’d slept in earlier, a contrast to the dark leather couch they sat upon together. Kanon knew if he leaned over to kiss at Bou’s neck or press his face into his hair that Bou would smell of sex and cigarettes, tinted with the faint smell of a sweet perfume that Kanon could never quite name.
“But it’s better if I do,” Bou added, mostly to himself in a soft murmur. He flicked ash into a small cup with water at the bottom. He really wasn’t too cheap to buy an ashtray, it was simply that there never enough time in the day to go out for one.
“You’ll never know what could have happened if you’d stayed,” Kanon said, turning his head to the TV, the screen blank. With light seeping in from the window, he could see how dusty the TV was. When was the last time they had taken a moment to clean their apartment together? Now mine, Kanon had to remind himself. Bou wouldn’t linger around for much longer.
“But I’ll never know what would have happened if I didn’t go,” Bou countered with a smile, cigarette poised between his fingers, resting between his lips. He looked over at Kanon with something similar to pity or sympathy, for what Kanon didn’t know.
Bou stood up and stretched, ribs visible as his back arched, his fingertips touching, the cigarette between his lips. He reminded Kanon of a ballerina, a tainted one at that. Kanon leaned over, his fingers skimming all the soft skin he could reach. Bou straightened and looked at him, face just as relaxed and just as calm as a cat laying in the sun on a warm day, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
Kanon reached for Bou’s hand, gripping it tightly while Bou’s own were gently laced with his. “There’s always going to be a spot for you if... if you ever want to come back,” Kanon whispered, compulsively nibbling on the side of his lip, eyes glancing up at Bou, as though seeking approval.
As though seeking love.
Bou stayed quiet, and though the moment was solemn, the tension palpable, Bou wore a small smile. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Kanon’s ear, murmuring, “There’s always going to be a spot on my bed for you, wherever I go.”
Bou always did like to keep him waiting.
----
This one was a lot fun to write. ♥
Chapter: Oneshot
Author: chinesetakeout
Pairing: Bou/Kanon
Summary: Bou stood up and stretched, ribs visible as his back arched, his fingertips touching, the cigarette between his lips. He reminded Kanon of a ballerina, a tainted one at that.
Rating: PG13
Genre: romance, angst
Warnings: none.
Disclaimer: No.
Comments: Kanon/Bou requested by chaostie.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Kanon said into the silence. He heard Bou light a cigarette, heard him inhale slowly with near timed precision. Kanon counted in his head - one second, two seconds, three seconds, four.
Exhale.
It had always been like Bou to keep Kanon waiting.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Bou finally replied from his place on the couch, directly across from Kanon, his legs crossed, body oddly relaxed. He was in the baby blue sweat pants he’d slept in earlier, a contrast to the dark leather couch they sat upon together. Kanon knew if he leaned over to kiss at Bou’s neck or press his face into his hair that Bou would smell of sex and cigarettes, tinted with the faint smell of a sweet perfume that Kanon could never quite name.
“But it’s better if I do,” Bou added, mostly to himself in a soft murmur. He flicked ash into a small cup with water at the bottom. He really wasn’t too cheap to buy an ashtray, it was simply that there never enough time in the day to go out for one.
“You’ll never know what could have happened if you’d stayed,” Kanon said, turning his head to the TV, the screen blank. With light seeping in from the window, he could see how dusty the TV was. When was the last time they had taken a moment to clean their apartment together? Now mine, Kanon had to remind himself. Bou wouldn’t linger around for much longer.
“But I’ll never know what would have happened if I didn’t go,” Bou countered with a smile, cigarette poised between his fingers, resting between his lips. He looked over at Kanon with something similar to pity or sympathy, for what Kanon didn’t know.
Bou stood up and stretched, ribs visible as his back arched, his fingertips touching, the cigarette between his lips. He reminded Kanon of a ballerina, a tainted one at that. Kanon leaned over, his fingers skimming all the soft skin he could reach. Bou straightened and looked at him, face just as relaxed and just as calm as a cat laying in the sun on a warm day, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
Kanon reached for Bou’s hand, gripping it tightly while Bou’s own were gently laced with his. “There’s always going to be a spot for you if... if you ever want to come back,” Kanon whispered, compulsively nibbling on the side of his lip, eyes glancing up at Bou, as though seeking approval.
As though seeking love.
Bou stayed quiet, and though the moment was solemn, the tension palpable, Bou wore a small smile. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Kanon’s ear, murmuring, “There’s always going to be a spot on my bed for you, wherever I go.”
Bou always did like to keep him waiting.
----
This one was a lot fun to write. ♥