Two drabbles
Used to be.
The moment Masaru felt cold steel pressing in his back, he knew it was over. Reluctantly he dropped his bag and brought his hands up to his head.
“You’re not really going to kill me? Are ‘ya,” he said, failing to make his voice sound as casual as the words he spoke.
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” a low voice behind him murmured, pressing the gun in his back even more.
“We used to be friends, Mikiya.”
“Right, we used to be.”
Masaru wanted to speak, beg the other, not to kill him, but the deafening sound of a trigger being pulled filled the pilot.
It was over.
Sunday morning
Fingers trailed over smooth skin, gently caressing it as if a rougher method would harm it.
The sweet scent of roasted bread and fresh fruits filled his nose and lingered in the room were two bodies still laid entangled on the bed.
“We should wake up,” he spoke, his voice low and husky.
The smaller body, curled up against his, shifted a little bit. Two round eyes fluttered open, eyeing him carefully.
“Don’t want,” Daiki said, rolling around and snuggling his head against Kouta’s small framed chest.
Lovingly the older of two ran a hand through his lover’s hair, trying to raise Daiki’s chin with his other so he could steal a kiss from his plump lips.
“Morning breath!” Daiki whined, ducking his head and rolling over again, this time his back facing his boyfriend.
“Dai-chan, we have strawberries.”
There was a silence. Again the smaller of two changed position, lying on his tummy his head pressed in a pillow.
“Brush you teeth so you can feed me,” were the muted words coming from the pillow.
Kouta grinned as he got up, making a mental note he had to thank Hikaru for the breakfast he had prepared.
The moment Masaru felt cold steel pressing in his back, he knew it was over. Reluctantly he dropped his bag and brought his hands up to his head.
“You’re not really going to kill me? Are ‘ya,” he said, failing to make his voice sound as casual as the words he spoke.
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” a low voice behind him murmured, pressing the gun in his back even more.
“We used to be friends, Mikiya.”
“Right, we used to be.”
Masaru wanted to speak, beg the other, not to kill him, but the deafening sound of a trigger being pulled filled the pilot.
It was over.
Sunday morning
Fingers trailed over smooth skin, gently caressing it as if a rougher method would harm it.
The sweet scent of roasted bread and fresh fruits filled his nose and lingered in the room were two bodies still laid entangled on the bed.
“We should wake up,” he spoke, his voice low and husky.
The smaller body, curled up against his, shifted a little bit. Two round eyes fluttered open, eyeing him carefully.
“Don’t want,” Daiki said, rolling around and snuggling his head against Kouta’s small framed chest.
Lovingly the older of two ran a hand through his lover’s hair, trying to raise Daiki’s chin with his other so he could steal a kiss from his plump lips.
“Morning breath!” Daiki whined, ducking his head and rolling over again, this time his back facing his boyfriend.
“Dai-chan, we have strawberries.”
There was a silence. Again the smaller of two changed position, lying on his tummy his head pressed in a pillow.
“Brush you teeth so you can feed me,” were the muted words coming from the pillow.
Kouta grinned as he got up, making a mental note he had to thank Hikaru for the breakfast he had prepared.