2 Jackal/Marui fics
Okay, so one's a drabble and the other is a ficlet, but I like them... >_>
You should like them, too. XD
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi's creation, but it's my playground.
Warnings: m/m relationships and insinuations of sex, POV, future setting, WAFF
A/N: written for 30_kisses theme #3: jolt!
A Moment
by Solanum Dulcamara
It's just that feeling I get when we're together like this. It's hard to describe. I love seeing his skin against mine - his dark skin makes my pasty paleness look beautiful. I could just stare at the sharp outline of his long fingers on my stomach. Contrast. Compliment. That's us. His hand is warm on my skin, and I close my eyes to let that warmth sink in. This is all I need.
In these moments, the years melt away. How many now? I can't think. He was a beautiful, lost mess when he walked into Rikkai the first time. I was too immature to appreciate it then. Now? I want to revel in him. I still see the boy in him... even now. Morning sunlight slips between a gap in the curtains - he glows in that light. He's looking up at me. I usually think of gray as a cold color... until he looks at me and shows me how hot it can be.
I want to melt into him. What time is it? I always lose track when he's like this. I'm filled with him... with my want for him. No matter how many times... just like the first; our hands meet - fingers sliding over rumpled sheets to find each other. That feeling... a spark... a jolt that wreaks havoc on my senses and runs ragged through my body. It's nothing compared to when he kisses me. I feel his breath on my face, his lips on mine, and I'm lost again. I breathe and I breathe him in. Do I live for this? I don't know. I know that in these moments, I close my eyes and feel, and I know I'm alive.
I lose track of time. I lose control. I lose a little of myself. But when he touches me, I'm found.
The day started without us and we're in no hurry to catch up because these moments are ours alone.
Disclaimer: Not mine, guys. You know the drill. Konomi owns. I make no money.
Warnings: annoying younger siblings, references to out-dated Japanese pop-culture
A/N: written for 30_kisses theme #4: our distance and that person
It Must be the Heat
by Solanum Dulcamara
Another drop of sweat rolled down his back. He felt it slide between his shoulder blades and along his spine to soak into the waistband of his shorts. Jackal wiped his forehead and checked his phone: 2:30. Marui was never this late. The movie was starting, and he'd been standing in front of the theatre for twenty minutes. The line at the front of the ticket window had diminished; only two teenagers stood waiting - a boy and girl standing close enough that the backs of their hands brushed together. Jackal found himself watching them with a strange twisting feeling low in his gut. Where was Marui? He pulled his cellphone out again: 2:33. He shifted a little further into the shadow provided by the awning and tried not to lose his mind sweating in the humidity. The couple buying tickets had already gone inside, and Jackal stood alone in front of the theatre while the ticket vendor sat behind the glass of the window flipping through a two month old copy of Zipper, boredom in every chomp on her gum. He envied her air-conditioning and was starting to actually worry about his doubles partner.
His thumb found Marui's number in his contact list. The phone rang. Again. Three times. The voice mail picked up - this week's incarnation was Marui's personal version of Home Made Kazoku's Thank You!!. He switched the messages up regularly: always some reworded version of a popular song performed by the self-proclaimed karaoke genius himself. Jackal frowned at the beep, unprepared to leave an actual message. He'd expected his partner to answer. "Um... Marui, I'm at the theatre... waiting. So... call me back. Okay? Bye." That was probably the lamest message left in the history of voice mail and answering machines. He didn't bother putting the phone in his pocket, feeling the plastic gradually warm in his hand as he waited for Marui to call back.
Cars were backed up at the nearby intersection and the smell of exhaust was strong in the air. Jackal leaned against the wall of the theatre, shirt catching on the rough surface of the concrete. Sweat plastered the cotton tee to his skin from his shoulders to the waistband of his pants. He closed his eyes and wished for a breeze. The shrill ring of his cellphone startled him off the wall. He answered hurriedly, "Marui?"
"Hi to you, too."
"Where are you?!" he didn't mean to sound as worried as he did. He really didn't need to worry about his teammate. He wasn't Kirihara or anything.
"You technophobe. You didn't get my text from earlier, did you?"
Jackal could hear Marui's brother in the background. It sounded like Shuhei, the youngest. He was rambling loudly enough to compete with his older brother. "Text? No."
"Of course you didn't. No, Shuhei. It's not a girl. It's Jackal," Marui sounded more exasperated than usual, "Sorry, Jackal. Nobuyuki was sick this morning, and mom had to take him to the doctor, so I got shackled with baby-sitting duty. No movie for me, I'm afraid. The only thing I'll be watching is a marathon of Pokemon."
"Oh. That's too bad." Jackal realized that he was really going to have to figure out all of the functions of his cell one of these days. Pointlessly waiting in the August heat had eroded his usual calm. He'd tried to keep his response as neutral as possible, though. It wasn't Marui's fault that he hadn't gotten the text message.
Marui, fortunately, was too irritated to notice any nuances in his tone. "Yeah. It sucks."
Contemplative silence passed between them as they each brooded on their own lamentable situations. That's when Jackal heard exactly what Shuhei was saying... or singing:
"Nii-san and Jackal-san sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."
"Shuhei! I'm going to kill you, you little brat!" A clatter and then, the phone line went dead.
Jackal stared at the blank LCD on his phone, song ringing in his head. Kissing Marui? His stomach cramped up in a very peculiar and unfamiliar way. He figured it must be the heat and turned in the direction of his home and a cold drink. Maybe he'd see what that Pokemon thing was all about.
Tell me you love me!
You should like them, too. XD
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi's creation, but it's my playground.
Warnings: m/m relationships and insinuations of sex, POV, future setting, WAFF
A/N: written for 30_kisses theme #3: jolt!
A Moment
by Solanum Dulcamara
It's just that feeling I get when we're together like this. It's hard to describe. I love seeing his skin against mine - his dark skin makes my pasty paleness look beautiful. I could just stare at the sharp outline of his long fingers on my stomach. Contrast. Compliment. That's us. His hand is warm on my skin, and I close my eyes to let that warmth sink in. This is all I need.
In these moments, the years melt away. How many now? I can't think. He was a beautiful, lost mess when he walked into Rikkai the first time. I was too immature to appreciate it then. Now? I want to revel in him. I still see the boy in him... even now. Morning sunlight slips between a gap in the curtains - he glows in that light. He's looking up at me. I usually think of gray as a cold color... until he looks at me and shows me how hot it can be.
I want to melt into him. What time is it? I always lose track when he's like this. I'm filled with him... with my want for him. No matter how many times... just like the first; our hands meet - fingers sliding over rumpled sheets to find each other. That feeling... a spark... a jolt that wreaks havoc on my senses and runs ragged through my body. It's nothing compared to when he kisses me. I feel his breath on my face, his lips on mine, and I'm lost again. I breathe and I breathe him in. Do I live for this? I don't know. I know that in these moments, I close my eyes and feel, and I know I'm alive.
I lose track of time. I lose control. I lose a little of myself. But when he touches me, I'm found.
The day started without us and we're in no hurry to catch up because these moments are ours alone.
Disclaimer: Not mine, guys. You know the drill. Konomi owns. I make no money.
Warnings: annoying younger siblings, references to out-dated Japanese pop-culture
A/N: written for 30_kisses theme #4: our distance and that person
It Must be the Heat
by Solanum Dulcamara
Another drop of sweat rolled down his back. He felt it slide between his shoulder blades and along his spine to soak into the waistband of his shorts. Jackal wiped his forehead and checked his phone: 2:30. Marui was never this late. The movie was starting, and he'd been standing in front of the theatre for twenty minutes. The line at the front of the ticket window had diminished; only two teenagers stood waiting - a boy and girl standing close enough that the backs of their hands brushed together. Jackal found himself watching them with a strange twisting feeling low in his gut. Where was Marui? He pulled his cellphone out again: 2:33. He shifted a little further into the shadow provided by the awning and tried not to lose his mind sweating in the humidity. The couple buying tickets had already gone inside, and Jackal stood alone in front of the theatre while the ticket vendor sat behind the glass of the window flipping through a two month old copy of Zipper, boredom in every chomp on her gum. He envied her air-conditioning and was starting to actually worry about his doubles partner.
His thumb found Marui's number in his contact list. The phone rang. Again. Three times. The voice mail picked up - this week's incarnation was Marui's personal version of Home Made Kazoku's Thank You!!. He switched the messages up regularly: always some reworded version of a popular song performed by the self-proclaimed karaoke genius himself. Jackal frowned at the beep, unprepared to leave an actual message. He'd expected his partner to answer. "Um... Marui, I'm at the theatre... waiting. So... call me back. Okay? Bye." That was probably the lamest message left in the history of voice mail and answering machines. He didn't bother putting the phone in his pocket, feeling the plastic gradually warm in his hand as he waited for Marui to call back.
Cars were backed up at the nearby intersection and the smell of exhaust was strong in the air. Jackal leaned against the wall of the theatre, shirt catching on the rough surface of the concrete. Sweat plastered the cotton tee to his skin from his shoulders to the waistband of his pants. He closed his eyes and wished for a breeze. The shrill ring of his cellphone startled him off the wall. He answered hurriedly, "Marui?"
"Hi to you, too."
"Where are you?!" he didn't mean to sound as worried as he did. He really didn't need to worry about his teammate. He wasn't Kirihara or anything.
"You technophobe. You didn't get my text from earlier, did you?"
Jackal could hear Marui's brother in the background. It sounded like Shuhei, the youngest. He was rambling loudly enough to compete with his older brother. "Text? No."
"Of course you didn't. No, Shuhei. It's not a girl. It's Jackal," Marui sounded more exasperated than usual, "Sorry, Jackal. Nobuyuki was sick this morning, and mom had to take him to the doctor, so I got shackled with baby-sitting duty. No movie for me, I'm afraid. The only thing I'll be watching is a marathon of Pokemon."
"Oh. That's too bad." Jackal realized that he was really going to have to figure out all of the functions of his cell one of these days. Pointlessly waiting in the August heat had eroded his usual calm. He'd tried to keep his response as neutral as possible, though. It wasn't Marui's fault that he hadn't gotten the text message.
Marui, fortunately, was too irritated to notice any nuances in his tone. "Yeah. It sucks."
Contemplative silence passed between them as they each brooded on their own lamentable situations. That's when Jackal heard exactly what Shuhei was saying... or singing:
"Nii-san and Jackal-san sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."
"Shuhei! I'm going to kill you, you little brat!" A clatter and then, the phone line went dead.
Jackal stared at the blank LCD on his phone, song ringing in his head. Kissing Marui? His stomach cramped up in a very peculiar and unfamiliar way. He figured it must be the heat and turned in the direction of his home and a cold drink. Maybe he'd see what that Pokemon thing was all about.
Tell me you love me!