KHR! | Two Ficlets; 10051 and 8059- "Decoy" and "Taking Up Our Time"
Title: Decoy
Fandom: KHR!
Characters: Souichi and Byakuran
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama
Notes: Sexual situations.
Decoy
His eyes are closed tight, and lips pressed into a tight line that won’t let any sounds slip through. He knows he’s pretending this isn’t happening. And that amuses him. Because he won’t let him ever forget this. Won’t let him forget the way their hips are moving, the way their skins are slick with sweat and rubbing each other raw, the way he bites down on his neck to mark pale skin with a red welt he can’t hide.
“Shou-chan~,” he breaths in his ear as he fucks him, and Shouichi’s legs shake as his fingers push behind his knees to hitch them up higher, “Shou-chan, aren’t you having fun?”
His cock is hard against their stomachs, taunt and erect and flushed red at the tip. His already pale fingers are nearly stark white in comparison as he wraps them around his shaft and tugs gently.
He tries, puts forth an honest effort, not to enjoy it. But his body is tensing and his hips are twitching as he jerks him off and pounds his dick into his ass. His glasses slip down his nose and he keeps clenching his jaw tighter and tighter as his body gets closer and closer to the brink. Then he comes into his hand, a few drops spilling onto his stomach.
He laughs because he can, because it will make that hateful feeling settle into Shouichi’s stomach. He finishes inside of him a moment later, and he pulls away, sated.
Shouichi tries to clean himself up with his discarded shirt, and he won’t look up. That’s what makes it fun, he has to admit. It’s only as fun as it is because of the lies. His hand brushes across his collar bone, and Shouichi finally looks up. He kisses him, because he can. Because Shouichi is his. Because he knows Shouichi hates that he’s fallen in love with him. Because he likes to see him lie.
It’s why he’s kept him around so long, after all.
Title: Taking Up Our Time
Fandom: KHR!
Characters: Hayato Gokudera and Takeshi Yamamoto
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Notes: IT MAKES NO SENSE
Taking Up Our Time
It had become a habit since they first moved to Italy almost a year ago after Tsuna’s succession. This, whatever it was. Closeness.
His breath was hot on the back of his neck as Yamamoto pressed close. His chest rose and fell easily, in steady rhythm with his heart that Gokudera could feel against his spine. Skin against skin was almost stifling, but Italian summer was too warm for much clothing worn to bed.
He was lonely, he had claimed. Gokudera could understand why. People knew who he was in Namimori. He had been there his whole life, had memorized streets and faces. Italy was a place where people moved about in their own circles from place to place with little care for strangers. Gokudera knew that better than anyone.
“Just learn Italian,” he had told him once, but Yamamoto only laughed and hugged him tighter.
Neither of them really belonged here. Half-bred son who spent more time blowing up relationships then bothering to make them and a Japanese man whose worth lay with whatever instrument he held in his hands. Maybe that was why he didn’t mind Yamamoto’s puppy-like need for affection, even if it only was sharing a bed when they were around each other and occasional kisses and fucks in the dark.
He didn’t mind this habit.
Fandom: KHR!
Characters: Souichi and Byakuran
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama
Notes: Sexual situations.
Decoy
His eyes are closed tight, and lips pressed into a tight line that won’t let any sounds slip through. He knows he’s pretending this isn’t happening. And that amuses him. Because he won’t let him ever forget this. Won’t let him forget the way their hips are moving, the way their skins are slick with sweat and rubbing each other raw, the way he bites down on his neck to mark pale skin with a red welt he can’t hide.
“Shou-chan~,” he breaths in his ear as he fucks him, and Shouichi’s legs shake as his fingers push behind his knees to hitch them up higher, “Shou-chan, aren’t you having fun?”
His cock is hard against their stomachs, taunt and erect and flushed red at the tip. His already pale fingers are nearly stark white in comparison as he wraps them around his shaft and tugs gently.
He tries, puts forth an honest effort, not to enjoy it. But his body is tensing and his hips are twitching as he jerks him off and pounds his dick into his ass. His glasses slip down his nose and he keeps clenching his jaw tighter and tighter as his body gets closer and closer to the brink. Then he comes into his hand, a few drops spilling onto his stomach.
He laughs because he can, because it will make that hateful feeling settle into Shouichi’s stomach. He finishes inside of him a moment later, and he pulls away, sated.
Shouichi tries to clean himself up with his discarded shirt, and he won’t look up. That’s what makes it fun, he has to admit. It’s only as fun as it is because of the lies. His hand brushes across his collar bone, and Shouichi finally looks up. He kisses him, because he can. Because Shouichi is his. Because he knows Shouichi hates that he’s fallen in love with him. Because he likes to see him lie.
It’s why he’s kept him around so long, after all.
Title: Taking Up Our Time
Fandom: KHR!
Characters: Hayato Gokudera and Takeshi Yamamoto
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Notes: IT MAKES NO SENSE
Taking Up Our Time
It had become a habit since they first moved to Italy almost a year ago after Tsuna’s succession. This, whatever it was. Closeness.
His breath was hot on the back of his neck as Yamamoto pressed close. His chest rose and fell easily, in steady rhythm with his heart that Gokudera could feel against his spine. Skin against skin was almost stifling, but Italian summer was too warm for much clothing worn to bed.
He was lonely, he had claimed. Gokudera could understand why. People knew who he was in Namimori. He had been there his whole life, had memorized streets and faces. Italy was a place where people moved about in their own circles from place to place with little care for strangers. Gokudera knew that better than anyone.
“Just learn Italian,” he had told him once, but Yamamoto only laughed and hugged him tighter.
Neither of them really belonged here. Half-bred son who spent more time blowing up relationships then bothering to make them and a Japanese man whose worth lay with whatever instrument he held in his hands. Maybe that was why he didn’t mind Yamamoto’s puppy-like need for affection, even if it only was sharing a bed when they were around each other and occasional kisses and fucks in the dark.
He didn’t mind this habit.