[fic][6918]
Before I forget altogether. orz
I have a meeting in ten minutes, haha.
For alykapedia . It was her and mirachiii 's idea in the first place. What have I done? XD
I think half of this is still for souleater411 though. You make me think of crack too much. ._."
This took ages to edit, and re-edit, and re-edit further. :\ I'm still not totally happy with it....
What kind of title is this? |||OTL
Ack, I'm behind with friends list. T_T
____________________________________________________
Shaft
6918;sexual connotations/innuendo;implication
"mirachiii: he can be biting a pen or a pencil in a meeting and it will look wrong in so many levels. XD"
____________________________________________________
Mukuro felt the sting of the sharply penetrating glare directed at him from across the table and barely suppressed a smirk as he twirled a pencil between his fingers subconsciously in amusement. He had been barely keeping track of the discussion occurring down the other end of the table, taking only a cursory interest in the operations of others, but it seemed that his inattention had been noticed by the one opposite him.
The warning glare from the former discipline committee chairman spoke volumes, cautioning the illusionist of almost certain punishment to come if he did not pay attention to the meeting proceedings. In truth, it was not so much the illusionist’s inattention but the distracting fidgeting Mukuro was doing unconsciously that irked the skylark so - and being what the other perceived to be a lack of discipline certainly didn’t win him any points either.
With an exaggerated sigh, Mukuro appeared to refocus on the speaker even as his right hand continued to toy with the piece of stationery he clutched, as though provoking the Cloud Guardian on purpose. He gave it a twirl before he lifted the blunt end of the pencil to his lips. After tapping it against his mouth a few times thoughtfully, he appeared to trace his lips with the round, smoothly lacquered surface, apparently engrossed in the report which was currently being given by Yamamoto on the status of operations in Southern Shanghai.
“The situation is a little unstable so far, but despite the disruption last week, we should have a good chance for recov-”
“That’s what you said last time, baseball idiot.”
Mukuro chuckled slightly with the others and let the words of the report wash over him, committing the information snippets he caught to memory even as he watched the skylark out of the corner of his eye, the pencil continuing on its round trip over fractionally parted lips. Watching the other man’s response was much more interesting that the meeting would ever be, he decided, and continued his façade, even though he knew the other man would not be so easily tricked with such weak willed trickery. Perhaps he had never really intended to ‘trick’ Hibari at all, merely rile up the other man with his evident nonchalance.
The Foundation leader had looked away, eyes determinedly fixed back down the table on the baseballer-come-swordsman still stumbling through his report, unused to such formality. However, there was an odd glassy look to his eyes, stiffness in his posture and Mukuro could feel the steady burn of eyes upon him every few seconds.
He continued his ministrations on the pencil, knowing this would agitate the cloud guardian sitting opposite him. It was helpful that the other guardians all sat before them, and had their heads turned in Yamamoto’s direction, or he would not have taken the opportunity, but then again, Mukuro didn’t care about proper or seemly things, and any opportunity to agitate the skylark was definitely something not worth missing. Stopping the butt of the pencil against his lips even as he kept his eyes trained on the figure of the rain guardian, he slowly slinked out a tongue and licked the end of it languidly, running his tongue over the smooth end, as he continued his illusion of preoccupation.
Judging by the darkening of Hibari’s face, as steely eyes swivelled his direction and darted away again, he was not fooled.
But he could not seem to look away as those grey eyes returned to his face every few seconds as though entranced by the combination of that clever mouth and the way it worked around that pencil that could quite easily be something else larger and more pleasurable.
Mukuro slipped the end of the pencil into his mouth.
Mouth slightly open, he twisted the pen between his teeth and tongue, sucking it gently and drawing it a little deeper into his mouth, even as he tasted the unusual flavour of the layer of paint coating the pencil. The piece of stationery slid between his teeth easily, slick with his saliva as he bit down on the thin piece of wood delicately, twirling it so it scored a light track in the soft wood.
From the other side of the table there was a slow, tightly-controlled exhalation of breath.
The illusionist smirked, removing the pencil for a beat. The saliva covered end glinted in the glow from the lights overhead as he slid his tongue over his lips and then replace the end of the pencil in his mouth, continuing to treat it like a piece of delightful candy he was nursing.
Peripherally, he noticed the cloud guardian on the other side of the desk scowling and looking slightly flushed as he caught himself diverted. With a great deal of effort, he forced his face back towards the front where Tsuna now turned to address the end of the table.
“Mukuro, your report please?”
Mukuro removed the pencil from his mouth again languorously, the once smooth painted edge covered in small holes from his sharp teeth and an extremely thin thread of saliva still trailing from his lips as he pointed the lightly chewed end towards his audience. He made a rather seductive image, with his smirk and questionable treatment of stationary as he said shortly, without consultation to his notes, “The operation is progressing on track with projected completion date sooner than planned. There are no other issues at present.” The pencil dipped back to his lips again, signalling the conclusion of his report.
“I… I see.” The Vongola deccimo replied, with an air of abstraction, a slight tinge of red marring his cheeks as he turned away dazedly to shuffle his notes, almost dropping them. The strangely alluring way Mukuro had drawled the sentence seemed to have particularly affected him as pages slid across the desk and under the table.
“I’ll fetch that, Jyuudaime.” Gokudera murmured and ducked under for a second and was back with them clutched in his hands.
At the end of the table, Hibari shifted with an air of discomfort.
“T-thanks, Gokudera-kun.” Tsuna stammered slightly as he crushed the papers after retrieving them from Gokudera, reduced to the young teenager he had been from the unintentional smouldering he had been subjected to by Mukuro. It seemed a shame that it had not reached its intended recipient - it would have been interesting to see his reaction, Mukuro thought.
Having noticed Hibari’s slight movement down the end of the table, Tsuna moved to the cloud guardian with a preoccupied air. “A-ah, and your report please, Hibari-san.”
There was a pause in which it seemed there was an audible grinding of teeth.
“No change on current status of the operation. Operation is in critical stage, and is due to conclude in three weeks time.” Hibari bit out stiffly as he fixed his eyes on his notes even as he held his head high. “Current situational report due before further progress can occur, report is due to be completed tomorrow morning.” He concluded with clinical succinctness, glaring coldly down the table.
“A-ah.” Having recovered slightly from the effect of Mukuro and now determinedly keeping his eyes off the illusionist, who continued to twirl the pencil in his mouth like a kid with a candy cane, the slightly intimidated Vongola Boss glanced at his crumpled notes then flicked his gaze to the clock. He appeared to take time to shuffle through his notes, even though truthfully the action was meaningless, as his heart thundered in his chest from the tension of the quiet which permeated the room. The others glanced at each other in equal parts awkwardness and embarrassment.
The last few ticks of the clock hammered through the air.
Dong dong dong --
“Ah! That’s all we have time for!” Tsuna exclaimed as he snapped to his feet and started stuffing the various sheets of paper into folders marked by colour with very little regard to where the notes actually ended up. “Any important updates not mentioned during this meeting please circulate to the other guardians and myself before the end of the week.”
Gokudera snatched the folders from Tsuna as the Deccimo swished from the room with all speed, Gokudera hot on his heels as always and the ever ignorant Yamamoto trailing behind. As though acting upon Tsuna’s cue, the rest of the guardians all seemed to beat a hasty departure from the sudden tension which seemed to resonate in the air between the mist and cloud guardians.
Mukuro watched the other attendees hurry out now as he now continued to hold the pencil between his teeth, the sharpened end raised high into the air as he rested his head on his palms, still staring down the table at the now vacated seats.
“Not leaving, Kyoya?” He murmured, his voice muffled around the pencil.
“Not if it’s what you want me to do.” The other man said shortly, with the same degree of frost in his voice as one would find in the coldest regions of the Antarctic. Yet, there was a strange clipped quality to his speech.
“Kufufu.” Mukuro laughed as the pencil dipped, still between his teeth. “Or is it because you can’t move?”
“What ridiculous nonsense are you sprouting now, herbivore?” The cloud guardian shot a loathing gaze at the illusionist even as the slight flush in his cheeks heightened involuntarily.
“Oya.” Mukuro’s smirk was wicked as he pulled the pencil from between his teeth. “Don’t deny it, Kyoya.” He replied simply before he held the slick pencil parallel to the table, flicked out his tongue and licked along its length.
The other guardian’s expression seemed to darken further as he gathered his sheets scattered in front of him meticulously, as though someone had forced him to order them properly with his dying will - albeit slowly. It was obvious Hibari was focusing hard on his task, but Mukuro proved too much of a distraction with his mobile tongue. Drops of sweat seemed to bead on the skylark’s temples even as he glared at the printed sheets in front of him like they had somehow wronged him.
Tucking the pencil behind one ear with a clearly self-satisfied smirk, Mukuro pulled himself up from his seat and rounded the end of the table until he stood behind the skylark who looked much less pleased with this arrangement.
First rule: never let someone take your back.
But it was not as though he could move, as much as he denied it, so he merely shuffled the papers in front of him, pretending that there was nothing bothering him, even when his expression alone showed just how ‘bothered’ he was. If not that, the tinge of red to his face would have also been a helpful indication.
Mukuro bent down until his lips touched the skylark’s neck and he nibbled on the skin there slowly.
“Why don’t you give in, hm, Kyoya.” Mukuro murmured against the warm skin, emphasising Hibari’s first name, knowing how the aloof man hated that kind of degree of intimacy.
Hibari made to pull away, but Mukuro touched his tongue to the pale skin, lathering the area before he sucked there gently, drawing the blood to the surface of the skin and distracting the Cloud Guardian sufficiently while his free hands crept to regions further south.
“Oya oya, no wonder you couldn’t move.” Mukuro laughed, his teeth still brushing the vulnerable area as he spoke, even as the wandering hands stroked and fondled the skylark where he needed it the most. Left to his own devices, Hibari would probably have willed away his desire, but why waste such fun while they could enjoy it? Now all he required, was the sign of Hibari’s giving in.
He stroked gently, tantalisingly, through the thin material of the slacks and felt the man tremble in his chair unwittingly, peeved at the gentleness and craving more. Not just the feather-light touch, but a full embracing.
The desperately muffled groan was the only sign Mukuro needed as he smiled secretively and got to work.
---------
Because, like, he wasn’t even trying before. That’s Mukuro for you - sexual without even trying.
orz What did I just write, now?
Oh hey, it’s semi-long. 2012 words. \o/”
I still write the best at 3AM. v_v
I have a meeting in ten minutes, haha.
For alykapedia . It was her and mirachiii 's idea in the first place. What have I done? XD
I think half of this is still for souleater411 though. You make me think of crack too much. ._."
This took ages to edit, and re-edit, and re-edit further. :\ I'm still not totally happy with it....
What kind of title is this? |||OTL
Ack, I'm behind with friends list. T_T
____________________________________________________
Shaft
6918;sexual connotations/innuendo;implication
"mirachiii: he can be biting a pen or a pencil in a meeting and it will look wrong in so many levels. XD"
____________________________________________________
Mukuro felt the sting of the sharply penetrating glare directed at him from across the table and barely suppressed a smirk as he twirled a pencil between his fingers subconsciously in amusement. He had been barely keeping track of the discussion occurring down the other end of the table, taking only a cursory interest in the operations of others, but it seemed that his inattention had been noticed by the one opposite him.
The warning glare from the former discipline committee chairman spoke volumes, cautioning the illusionist of almost certain punishment to come if he did not pay attention to the meeting proceedings. In truth, it was not so much the illusionist’s inattention but the distracting fidgeting Mukuro was doing unconsciously that irked the skylark so - and being what the other perceived to be a lack of discipline certainly didn’t win him any points either.
With an exaggerated sigh, Mukuro appeared to refocus on the speaker even as his right hand continued to toy with the piece of stationery he clutched, as though provoking the Cloud Guardian on purpose. He gave it a twirl before he lifted the blunt end of the pencil to his lips. After tapping it against his mouth a few times thoughtfully, he appeared to trace his lips with the round, smoothly lacquered surface, apparently engrossed in the report which was currently being given by Yamamoto on the status of operations in Southern Shanghai.
“The situation is a little unstable so far, but despite the disruption last week, we should have a good chance for recov-”
“That’s what you said last time, baseball idiot.”
Mukuro chuckled slightly with the others and let the words of the report wash over him, committing the information snippets he caught to memory even as he watched the skylark out of the corner of his eye, the pencil continuing on its round trip over fractionally parted lips. Watching the other man’s response was much more interesting that the meeting would ever be, he decided, and continued his façade, even though he knew the other man would not be so easily tricked with such weak willed trickery. Perhaps he had never really intended to ‘trick’ Hibari at all, merely rile up the other man with his evident nonchalance.
The Foundation leader had looked away, eyes determinedly fixed back down the table on the baseballer-come-swordsman still stumbling through his report, unused to such formality. However, there was an odd glassy look to his eyes, stiffness in his posture and Mukuro could feel the steady burn of eyes upon him every few seconds.
He continued his ministrations on the pencil, knowing this would agitate the cloud guardian sitting opposite him. It was helpful that the other guardians all sat before them, and had their heads turned in Yamamoto’s direction, or he would not have taken the opportunity, but then again, Mukuro didn’t care about proper or seemly things, and any opportunity to agitate the skylark was definitely something not worth missing. Stopping the butt of the pencil against his lips even as he kept his eyes trained on the figure of the rain guardian, he slowly slinked out a tongue and licked the end of it languidly, running his tongue over the smooth end, as he continued his illusion of preoccupation.
Judging by the darkening of Hibari’s face, as steely eyes swivelled his direction and darted away again, he was not fooled.
But he could not seem to look away as those grey eyes returned to his face every few seconds as though entranced by the combination of that clever mouth and the way it worked around that pencil that could quite easily be something else larger and more pleasurable.
Mukuro slipped the end of the pencil into his mouth.
Mouth slightly open, he twisted the pen between his teeth and tongue, sucking it gently and drawing it a little deeper into his mouth, even as he tasted the unusual flavour of the layer of paint coating the pencil. The piece of stationery slid between his teeth easily, slick with his saliva as he bit down on the thin piece of wood delicately, twirling it so it scored a light track in the soft wood.
From the other side of the table there was a slow, tightly-controlled exhalation of breath.
The illusionist smirked, removing the pencil for a beat. The saliva covered end glinted in the glow from the lights overhead as he slid his tongue over his lips and then replace the end of the pencil in his mouth, continuing to treat it like a piece of delightful candy he was nursing.
Peripherally, he noticed the cloud guardian on the other side of the desk scowling and looking slightly flushed as he caught himself diverted. With a great deal of effort, he forced his face back towards the front where Tsuna now turned to address the end of the table.
“Mukuro, your report please?”
Mukuro removed the pencil from his mouth again languorously, the once smooth painted edge covered in small holes from his sharp teeth and an extremely thin thread of saliva still trailing from his lips as he pointed the lightly chewed end towards his audience. He made a rather seductive image, with his smirk and questionable treatment of stationary as he said shortly, without consultation to his notes, “The operation is progressing on track with projected completion date sooner than planned. There are no other issues at present.” The pencil dipped back to his lips again, signalling the conclusion of his report.
“I… I see.” The Vongola deccimo replied, with an air of abstraction, a slight tinge of red marring his cheeks as he turned away dazedly to shuffle his notes, almost dropping them. The strangely alluring way Mukuro had drawled the sentence seemed to have particularly affected him as pages slid across the desk and under the table.
“I’ll fetch that, Jyuudaime.” Gokudera murmured and ducked under for a second and was back with them clutched in his hands.
At the end of the table, Hibari shifted with an air of discomfort.
“T-thanks, Gokudera-kun.” Tsuna stammered slightly as he crushed the papers after retrieving them from Gokudera, reduced to the young teenager he had been from the unintentional smouldering he had been subjected to by Mukuro. It seemed a shame that it had not reached its intended recipient - it would have been interesting to see his reaction, Mukuro thought.
Having noticed Hibari’s slight movement down the end of the table, Tsuna moved to the cloud guardian with a preoccupied air. “A-ah, and your report please, Hibari-san.”
There was a pause in which it seemed there was an audible grinding of teeth.
“No change on current status of the operation. Operation is in critical stage, and is due to conclude in three weeks time.” Hibari bit out stiffly as he fixed his eyes on his notes even as he held his head high. “Current situational report due before further progress can occur, report is due to be completed tomorrow morning.” He concluded with clinical succinctness, glaring coldly down the table.
“A-ah.” Having recovered slightly from the effect of Mukuro and now determinedly keeping his eyes off the illusionist, who continued to twirl the pencil in his mouth like a kid with a candy cane, the slightly intimidated Vongola Boss glanced at his crumpled notes then flicked his gaze to the clock. He appeared to take time to shuffle through his notes, even though truthfully the action was meaningless, as his heart thundered in his chest from the tension of the quiet which permeated the room. The others glanced at each other in equal parts awkwardness and embarrassment.
The last few ticks of the clock hammered through the air.
Dong dong dong --
“Ah! That’s all we have time for!” Tsuna exclaimed as he snapped to his feet and started stuffing the various sheets of paper into folders marked by colour with very little regard to where the notes actually ended up. “Any important updates not mentioned during this meeting please circulate to the other guardians and myself before the end of the week.”
Gokudera snatched the folders from Tsuna as the Deccimo swished from the room with all speed, Gokudera hot on his heels as always and the ever ignorant Yamamoto trailing behind. As though acting upon Tsuna’s cue, the rest of the guardians all seemed to beat a hasty departure from the sudden tension which seemed to resonate in the air between the mist and cloud guardians.
Mukuro watched the other attendees hurry out now as he now continued to hold the pencil between his teeth, the sharpened end raised high into the air as he rested his head on his palms, still staring down the table at the now vacated seats.
“Not leaving, Kyoya?” He murmured, his voice muffled around the pencil.
“Not if it’s what you want me to do.” The other man said shortly, with the same degree of frost in his voice as one would find in the coldest regions of the Antarctic. Yet, there was a strange clipped quality to his speech.
“Kufufu.” Mukuro laughed as the pencil dipped, still between his teeth. “Or is it because you can’t move?”
“What ridiculous nonsense are you sprouting now, herbivore?” The cloud guardian shot a loathing gaze at the illusionist even as the slight flush in his cheeks heightened involuntarily.
“Oya.” Mukuro’s smirk was wicked as he pulled the pencil from between his teeth. “Don’t deny it, Kyoya.” He replied simply before he held the slick pencil parallel to the table, flicked out his tongue and licked along its length.
The other guardian’s expression seemed to darken further as he gathered his sheets scattered in front of him meticulously, as though someone had forced him to order them properly with his dying will - albeit slowly. It was obvious Hibari was focusing hard on his task, but Mukuro proved too much of a distraction with his mobile tongue. Drops of sweat seemed to bead on the skylark’s temples even as he glared at the printed sheets in front of him like they had somehow wronged him.
Tucking the pencil behind one ear with a clearly self-satisfied smirk, Mukuro pulled himself up from his seat and rounded the end of the table until he stood behind the skylark who looked much less pleased with this arrangement.
First rule: never let someone take your back.
But it was not as though he could move, as much as he denied it, so he merely shuffled the papers in front of him, pretending that there was nothing bothering him, even when his expression alone showed just how ‘bothered’ he was. If not that, the tinge of red to his face would have also been a helpful indication.
Mukuro bent down until his lips touched the skylark’s neck and he nibbled on the skin there slowly.
“Why don’t you give in, hm, Kyoya.” Mukuro murmured against the warm skin, emphasising Hibari’s first name, knowing how the aloof man hated that kind of degree of intimacy.
Hibari made to pull away, but Mukuro touched his tongue to the pale skin, lathering the area before he sucked there gently, drawing the blood to the surface of the skin and distracting the Cloud Guardian sufficiently while his free hands crept to regions further south.
“Oya oya, no wonder you couldn’t move.” Mukuro laughed, his teeth still brushing the vulnerable area as he spoke, even as the wandering hands stroked and fondled the skylark where he needed it the most. Left to his own devices, Hibari would probably have willed away his desire, but why waste such fun while they could enjoy it? Now all he required, was the sign of Hibari’s giving in.
He stroked gently, tantalisingly, through the thin material of the slacks and felt the man tremble in his chair unwittingly, peeved at the gentleness and craving more. Not just the feather-light touch, but a full embracing.
The desperately muffled groan was the only sign Mukuro needed as he smiled secretively and got to work.
---------
Because, like, he wasn’t even trying before. That’s Mukuro for you - sexual without even trying.
orz What did I just write, now?
Oh hey, it’s semi-long. 2012 words. \o/”
I still write the best at 3AM. v_v