Ah, ToriShishi. Good shtuff. ^_^
This is, again, for zerotwofan, for feeding my PoT obsession (it's really turned into a monster, lately) and introducing me to the newlywed love that is ToriShishi. Or... er, ShishiTori. ^_^
Title: Kamae (Stance)
Pairing: ToriShishi (and lacking all traces of AtoJi! My, my...)
Rating: Er, since I really am not sure where the boundaries between R and NC-17 are... I'm going to rate it "very mild lime." ^_^
Warnings: Shishido being sexlessly seme, and since Monnie has a serious oral fixation, so does he. Take that as you will. ^_^
Disclaimer: ...damn it, now I really want them. But they don't belong to me.
Kamae (Stance)
The tan lines, Shishido decided, were going to be the death of him.
It wasn't that the faint lines on Ootori's biceps were both sudden stripes between cream and tan, though really, he'd have halfway expected them to be: most of the time they spent out in the sun, they were wearing their Hyotei jerseys, or their warm-up jackets. In fact, though the line on his left bicep was a pretty clean stripe that cut through the tan halfway down, on his right side, it was a fairly gradual transition from the prettiest pale cream at his shoulder, making its way down until his forearms were a uniform tanned gold. Shishido had spent some time thinking about it, and he'd figured that it was because Ootori was a rightie--whenever he served, his sleeve fell upwards and bared a little more of his arm to the sun, and, well, he'd spent a lot of time practicing his serve, or stretching out to reach a corner shot. He wasn't going to be able to wear a sleeveless shirt anytime soon, obviously--his shoulders were both the same shade of pale, but it did look a little odd that on one arm, he had a fairly solid band of tan line, and on the other, he had a... what was it called? Oh, right, a gradient.
Shishido, being the idiot that he knew he was, just wanted to put his mouth those damned tan lines--kiss his way down the gradual one, maybe, from pale shoulder to golden forearms, feeling muscle move under his lips, and maybe trace the one that looked kind of like an armband with the very tip of his tongue... oh yeah. He made it a point just not to look anywhere but at his own cubbyhole, his back to Ootori, whenever Ootori was changing, because there were times when watching the power of that graceful back moving as he shed his shirt and toweled himself off just got Shishido ridiculously hard, and knowing the rest of the Regulars, someone would be sure to notice. Sure, they knew about him and his partner--it had come out one day when Mukahi had patted Ootori's butt, grinning, and Shishido had completely lost it; he was pretty sure he would have squashed the little bastard if both Oshitari and Ootori hadn't grabbed him by the arms first--but that didn't mean that he wanted them to know, know about him and Ootori.
Sure, he was secure about their relationship. There wasn't a chance on Heaven or Earth that Ootori would even think of cheating on him--well, Ootori was such a good boy--and Shishido definitely wasn't looking anywhere but at his gorgeous, painfully innocent roommate. Still, he sure as Hell didn't want one of the perverts on the team touching Ootori--especially not anywhere Shishido himself didn't (well, wasn't allowed to) touch.
Being in their apartment was different, obviously. He could sport a hard-on for his roommate and boyfriend all he wanted, and as long as he didn't do anything about it while Ootori was around, he could watch Ootori going about his daily rituals all he wanted, too. (Well, he could get away with it because, well, his roommate never looked anywhere but at his face while they were talking; maybe he never even noticed the tent in his shorts.)
Watching his Choutarou searching through his drawers for an shirt that he liked--they'd both been weak on laundry this week; it'd been kind of busy--without a shirt on... oh, yeah, there was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on the paper he was supposed to be writing while that was going on. He was just going to lie back on his bed and enjoy the view.
Really, he had to be some kind of pervert--after all, Shishido was a guy too, and sure as Hell Ootori didn't have anything he didn't. More than that, Ootori was wearing jeans, sleek on his long legs, and only his top was bare. Shishido didn't know, really, why the sight of Ootori Choutarou walking around their apartment, all innocence, without his shirt on turned him on so badly.
And it really, really did, even if there really wasn't much he could do about it.
Oh, wait--there was something he could do about it. A little, anyway.
Shishido walked over to roommate, who was pouting so cutely at the open dresser with his hands propped on his hips, and wrapped his arms around that slim waist. Hell, he had the right to do it nowadays, but he always forgot--it was still so new, even though it'd been months already, that he really could just reach over and put his arms around his roommate, if he wanted. He never got tired of it--his breath still did the most peculiar skippy thing whenever Ootori came up behind him for a hug just because Ootori did sweet things like that, and did it make him a big squishy goof that his heart did a weird flippity-flop every time Ootori kissed him, even if it was just a little peck on the cheek?
Yeah, he was a big squishy goof for his partner. He hated it, sometimes, how soft being around Ootori made him.
He wouldn't have given it up for the world.
They still hadn't done anything--like anything more than kissing, really, and if he was getting frustrated at it--and, well, he was--it was sort of a good frustration. Kind of like waiting for something good that you knew just had to get to you eventually. In Shishido's case, he had the feeling that the 'eventually' was a long way off, if it ever showed up--like an after-he-graduated kind of long way off--but, Hell, this... relationship they had... yeah, it was worth it. He'd always figured that nothing you couldn't fight for was worth having, but... maybe patience was a kind of fight, too.
For Ootori, he could wait.
Still, though... he sighed in pleasure, running his fingertips up the gentle ridges of his Choutarou's abdomen, feeling each of those little dipped lines that he'd stared at so many times, knowing them by touch. Ootori had a great body under all those loose shirts and little hoodie-things--and the skin of his chest was so smooth under Shishido's rough fingertips, and he half-closed his eyes, speaking into the warm, firm curve of Ootori's back. "Mmm. Damn, Choutarou. You're such a tease, you know that? Walking around like this..."
He heard the breath leave his partner, just a little--a tiny little gasp, almost a like a protest. They'd talked about this--about where Shishido could touch, 'cause really, he didn't want to scare the kid--and his hands weren't anywhere they weren't supposed to be... and Ootori wasn't telling him to stop. "Ah..."
Mmm, he liked that sound. Shishido smiled, a little, and pressed his mouth to the sweet little bump where Ootori's neck ended, and his back began, suckling just gently. Sure, he wasn't allowed to touch Ootori below the belt, and he figured that he'd be safe and leave off those tempting little pink nipples, too, but aside from that... Hell, there was a lot of Ootori that was still fair game. The strong line of his back. The delicate little dip of his spine. The way his shoulders slimmed to his waist, that little shallow ridge of his hipbones through his skin. And his stomach... He traced the little lines that divided Ootori's belly, just the very tips of his fingers, feeling them firm under his touch--
"Shishido-san, please don't..." the sound was almost a breath, like a plea, as Ootori canted his head back, and the mirror on the bureau, as Shishido opened his eyes, showed those arched, mahogany eyes half-closed, silvery brows coming together in something that did look like protest.
Okay, Ootori was telling him to stop. Shishido sighed, and stilled his hands, clasping them one on top another on Ootori's belly, and leaned his cheek on the back in front of him. Okay, no more sucking on Ootori's shoulder today. "Sorry, Choutarou. Didn't mean to--"
"...don't stop." Ootori finished--then blinked, and Shishido felt muscles moving against him as Ootori craned his head around to look at him. "Oh. You stopped."
Shishido blinked back, and grinned--before he closed his teeth over the flesh beside Ootori's shoulder, just gently, surprising a little 'Oh!' from his roommate... before he soothed the little nip mark with one broad stroke of his tongue. "It's so damned hard to tell what you want sometimes, y'know? I never really know what I'm allowed to do."
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san--I don't mean to be difficult--" Ootori sounded genuinely sorry as he reached down, his fingers curling lightly over Shishido's--his touch was almost always so light that it raised all the hair along Shishido's arms in one long tingle.
It really was weird that he still got called Shishido-san by the boy whose shoulder he had his mouth on. Just for effect, he bit him again--a little harder, this time, and chuckled as Ootori sucked in a quick, sharp breath. "I was just kidding, baka. Choutarou, you're the easiest person in the world to live with. Seriously."
There was the shift of muscle against him again as Ootori blinked, looking puzzled, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He was tempted to growl and just keep nibbling on that shoulder, but he might have left a hickey, and he figured that he didn't really want Ootori getting teased by the rest of the team. He'd given him a newer, stronger chain for his cross after Christmas, but Ootori still did have the habit of clutching at it whenever he was embarrassed--and, really, Shishido didn't want to give his roommate something to be embarrassed about. Even if he did like kissing him, long and slow, until he was blushing and gasping, but that was in the privacy of their own apartment.
Though the thought of marking that pale, sweet shoulder--or, better, the clean arch of that long neck, so that everyone knew that Ootori was his, damn it, was still so tempting...
"Well... I know that... that you're waiting for me," Ootori sounded so uncomfortable, his brows drawn together and eyes wide, and so damned earnest. "It's just... I'm sorr--"
Shishido slid one hand upwards, and shushed his roommate by pressing two fingers to that lush, soft, kissable mouth. And he would know just how kissable it was. "Ah, Hell. Don't apologise, Choutarou," he leaned over, and kissed at the little bite mark he'd made earlier. It'd fade in a matter of moments, he knew--even Ootori's pale skin wouldn't mark that easily--and even as he watched, it disappeared to a tiny damp patch. "Take your time. It's a big step." You're worth it.
He was, however, going to have to talk to Choutarou about not squirming like that when Shishido was pressed against his back like this. Only the fact that he had Ootori's bare back to press his face against kept him from groaning aloud and giving up the whole damned control thing by reaching down to cup Ootori through those slim blue jeans. Except he knew that his partner just wasn't going to be affected quite the way he was by all this, because, well, Ootori just wasn't sexual like that--but not even he could stand steady through a hand on his cock, Shishido was willing to bet... but he didn't test that. He knew the rules.
"But you're ready," Ootori murmured, a little indistinctly, past the fingers.
And then... oh-SHIT-I-don't-believe-him Ootori opened his mouth, that sweet, little tempting mouth, and Shishido's fingertips fell past his lips, resting lightly against the smooth pearl of teeth. And even as he stared into the mirror, disbelieving, and quite possibly harder than he'd ever been in his life--the tip of that soft tongue he'd had on his lips in the tiniest, shyest little flicks moved in the briefest touch over the pads of his fingers, and Shishido's eyes almost rolled back in his head as that soft, soft wetness slid over his fingertips, and then Choutarou was almost closing his lips around them, almost sucking as he lowered his head a little, mahogany eyes half-closed, tongue sliding slick to cradle his fingers--
Shishido had only just enough control to yank his hand away, his fingers away from where Ootori had seemed pretty damned determined to demonstrate what it would be like to get a blowjob from him. There was no stopping the moan that shook all along his body, or the way his hips rocked against Ootori's rear, pressing his hard-on against the firm globes through too many layers of cloth, or the way he bit down on Ootori's shoulder--hard--with a growl so animal it surprised even him.
"Ita--!" Ootori yelped, his hands shooting out to balance himself against the bureau--and pushing his rear against Shishido's crotch.
Shishido let go of his partner and managed to step back, shaking, just as Choutarou straightened, eyes huge and startled as he brought his hand up to his shoulder, peering at the marks that Shishido's teeth had left on the soft pale of his shoulder. "Shishido-san, you bit me!"
After Ootori had been sucking on his fingers, he was surprised that Shishido had bitten him?! "Geez, Choutarou--don't do things like that--" his voice sounded strained. Actually, no, it sounded downright choked, but that was because he was shaking, and he was suddenly so glad that Ootori was going to be leaving to go to some kind of concert thing soon, because, holy gods, he wasn't even going to be able to walk if he didn't get some relief. "Damn it! You've got no clue what you're messing with!"
Ootori just blinked at him again, rubbing his shoulder, before smiling, just a little--and maybe just the tiniest bit smugly. "Sorry, Shishido-san."
He most definitely did not sound repentant. He was, in fact, leaning just the tiniest bit back against the bureau, his shoulders set back, that delicious chest and stomach so utterly bared as his head fell back, exposing the long line of that neck, moving as he swallowed...
Shishido stared, and just barely managed to keep from ripping off those damned blue jeans, bending Ootori over the bureau, and--oh, Hell, he was going to not survive out the year. "You. Are. Such. A. Friggin'. Tease."
Okay, so maybe Ootori wasn't quite that oblivious to the effect that he was having on Shishido.
Oh, Hell. Fuck control.
Shishido took the two steps forward at a rush, quickly enough that he knew Ootori wasn't going to be able to dodge him--and slammed his partner back against the bureau. With a dip of his head, he latched onto the bite mark he'd made--licking and suckling at it to the sound of Ootori's soft little cries, and the weak little nudges against his shoulders--no, that most definitely did not count as a sufficient protest, not at this point--until, finally, Shishido relented--
And thrust his hands into those soft, silvery waves of hair, dragging Ootori's mouth down to his as he completely ignored that little 'Mmph!' He devoured those soft lips, thrusting his tongue past that warm softness--it didn't pass him by the Ootori's eyes were closed, his mouth falling open--and growling as the tip of that tempting, so-soft tongue slipped against his, twining tentatively--and then not tentatively. He normally tried to be so careful when he was kissing Ootori, not pushing, not biting against that full, soft lower lip, but oh, all bets were off now and he closed his teeth--gently--around that lip, nibbling, and lapping until the hands pushing on his shoulders were clutching against him, not pushing him away.
"Don't tease me, Choutarou," he growled against swollen lips, grinning before he stepped back--and saw Ootori wobble, clutching against the bureau for balance. "You really don't know what you're getting yourself into. 'Cause I've told myself I'm gonna wait 'till you ask me for it, but Hell, you're upping the ante to begging."
Right. Like he could actually keep himself from pouncing on Ootori the moment he showed--without a doubt--that he was the least bit willing. The only thing that kept Shishido from trying anything was, well, knowing that Ootori had no friggin' idea what he'd be letting loose... and, Hell, he wanted his Choutarou to understand what was going to happen--and, more importantly, to want it as much as he did.
Though he wondered sometimes if that was actually possible.
Ootori looked... dazed, mouth falling just the tiniest hint open on a tiny little sound that was almost a whimper. And Shishido dared a brief, tiny glance downwards as he caught his breath back--and noted the unmistakable bulge in blue jeans that clung unquestionably--and they looked suddenly even more uncomfortable than Shishido's loose shorts--to those slim hips.
Oh, yum. And maybe Ootori wasn't as unaffected by him as Shishido had thought, either.
He stepped forward, more slowly--Ootori didn't try to move, just stared down at him--and traced his lips gently on that little crimson mark. "Mine," he purred, happily. All mine.
Yes, he was most definitely content now--well, as far as he could be content with a hard-on that would have been painful if he'd been wearing anything but boxers and his practice shorts.
"C'mon, Choutarou," he shook his head and turned him towards the bureau, amused by his partner's stunned expression as those long, violin-callused fingers trailed up to the by-now-unmistakable love bite, high on his shoulder. Shishido had always thought that one favour deserved another--and, well, if Ootori was going to do something to him that was going to haunt Shishido's dreams for months, his partner could damned well walk around with a hickey for a week. "You're going to be late to your concert."
"Huh?" Oh, yeah, Ootori most definitely looked dazed. "Concert?"
Shishido grinned at him over his shoulder and looked into the drawer, reaching through the carefully folded piles of shirts. "I'll help you find something to wear that covers that."
For now, at least.
~owari~
Started: 01-05-04
Finished: 01-05-04
I'm starting to get into this write-in-a-couple-of-hours things. ^_^
*grin* Oh, interesting note: Shishido's and Ootori's little "please don't... don't stop" misunderstanding actually does have a pretty fair equivalent in Japanese: "Yame... yamenai de kure/kudasai..." where 'yame' means 'stop,' but can be the precursor to 'yamenai de', which means 'don't stop.' I kept that out of the story to keep the Japanese to a minimum. ^_^
I'm not sure why I really enjoyed writing this. It just... poured out. I'm sure emilychan had something to do with it--Boys Waiting is just too cute an image to pass up for them... but hey, Shishido had to get a hickey *growl* some of his own in... ^_^
Title: Kamae (Stance)
Pairing: ToriShishi (and lacking all traces of AtoJi! My, my...)
Rating: Er, since I really am not sure where the boundaries between R and NC-17 are... I'm going to rate it "very mild lime." ^_^
Warnings: Shishido being sexlessly seme, and since Monnie has a serious oral fixation, so does he. Take that as you will. ^_^
Disclaimer: ...damn it, now I really want them. But they don't belong to me.
Kamae (Stance)
The tan lines, Shishido decided, were going to be the death of him.
It wasn't that the faint lines on Ootori's biceps were both sudden stripes between cream and tan, though really, he'd have halfway expected them to be: most of the time they spent out in the sun, they were wearing their Hyotei jerseys, or their warm-up jackets. In fact, though the line on his left bicep was a pretty clean stripe that cut through the tan halfway down, on his right side, it was a fairly gradual transition from the prettiest pale cream at his shoulder, making its way down until his forearms were a uniform tanned gold. Shishido had spent some time thinking about it, and he'd figured that it was because Ootori was a rightie--whenever he served, his sleeve fell upwards and bared a little more of his arm to the sun, and, well, he'd spent a lot of time practicing his serve, or stretching out to reach a corner shot. He wasn't going to be able to wear a sleeveless shirt anytime soon, obviously--his shoulders were both the same shade of pale, but it did look a little odd that on one arm, he had a fairly solid band of tan line, and on the other, he had a... what was it called? Oh, right, a gradient.
Shishido, being the idiot that he knew he was, just wanted to put his mouth those damned tan lines--kiss his way down the gradual one, maybe, from pale shoulder to golden forearms, feeling muscle move under his lips, and maybe trace the one that looked kind of like an armband with the very tip of his tongue... oh yeah. He made it a point just not to look anywhere but at his own cubbyhole, his back to Ootori, whenever Ootori was changing, because there were times when watching the power of that graceful back moving as he shed his shirt and toweled himself off just got Shishido ridiculously hard, and knowing the rest of the Regulars, someone would be sure to notice. Sure, they knew about him and his partner--it had come out one day when Mukahi had patted Ootori's butt, grinning, and Shishido had completely lost it; he was pretty sure he would have squashed the little bastard if both Oshitari and Ootori hadn't grabbed him by the arms first--but that didn't mean that he wanted them to know, know about him and Ootori.
Sure, he was secure about their relationship. There wasn't a chance on Heaven or Earth that Ootori would even think of cheating on him--well, Ootori was such a good boy--and Shishido definitely wasn't looking anywhere but at his gorgeous, painfully innocent roommate. Still, he sure as Hell didn't want one of the perverts on the team touching Ootori--especially not anywhere Shishido himself didn't (well, wasn't allowed to) touch.
Being in their apartment was different, obviously. He could sport a hard-on for his roommate and boyfriend all he wanted, and as long as he didn't do anything about it while Ootori was around, he could watch Ootori going about his daily rituals all he wanted, too. (Well, he could get away with it because, well, his roommate never looked anywhere but at his face while they were talking; maybe he never even noticed the tent in his shorts.)
Watching his Choutarou searching through his drawers for an shirt that he liked--they'd both been weak on laundry this week; it'd been kind of busy--without a shirt on... oh, yeah, there was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on the paper he was supposed to be writing while that was going on. He was just going to lie back on his bed and enjoy the view.
Really, he had to be some kind of pervert--after all, Shishido was a guy too, and sure as Hell Ootori didn't have anything he didn't. More than that, Ootori was wearing jeans, sleek on his long legs, and only his top was bare. Shishido didn't know, really, why the sight of Ootori Choutarou walking around their apartment, all innocence, without his shirt on turned him on so badly.
And it really, really did, even if there really wasn't much he could do about it.
Oh, wait--there was something he could do about it. A little, anyway.
Shishido walked over to roommate, who was pouting so cutely at the open dresser with his hands propped on his hips, and wrapped his arms around that slim waist. Hell, he had the right to do it nowadays, but he always forgot--it was still so new, even though it'd been months already, that he really could just reach over and put his arms around his roommate, if he wanted. He never got tired of it--his breath still did the most peculiar skippy thing whenever Ootori came up behind him for a hug just because Ootori did sweet things like that, and did it make him a big squishy goof that his heart did a weird flippity-flop every time Ootori kissed him, even if it was just a little peck on the cheek?
Yeah, he was a big squishy goof for his partner. He hated it, sometimes, how soft being around Ootori made him.
He wouldn't have given it up for the world.
They still hadn't done anything--like anything more than kissing, really, and if he was getting frustrated at it--and, well, he was--it was sort of a good frustration. Kind of like waiting for something good that you knew just had to get to you eventually. In Shishido's case, he had the feeling that the 'eventually' was a long way off, if it ever showed up--like an after-he-graduated kind of long way off--but, Hell, this... relationship they had... yeah, it was worth it. He'd always figured that nothing you couldn't fight for was worth having, but... maybe patience was a kind of fight, too.
For Ootori, he could wait.
Still, though... he sighed in pleasure, running his fingertips up the gentle ridges of his Choutarou's abdomen, feeling each of those little dipped lines that he'd stared at so many times, knowing them by touch. Ootori had a great body under all those loose shirts and little hoodie-things--and the skin of his chest was so smooth under Shishido's rough fingertips, and he half-closed his eyes, speaking into the warm, firm curve of Ootori's back. "Mmm. Damn, Choutarou. You're such a tease, you know that? Walking around like this..."
He heard the breath leave his partner, just a little--a tiny little gasp, almost a like a protest. They'd talked about this--about where Shishido could touch, 'cause really, he didn't want to scare the kid--and his hands weren't anywhere they weren't supposed to be... and Ootori wasn't telling him to stop. "Ah..."
Mmm, he liked that sound. Shishido smiled, a little, and pressed his mouth to the sweet little bump where Ootori's neck ended, and his back began, suckling just gently. Sure, he wasn't allowed to touch Ootori below the belt, and he figured that he'd be safe and leave off those tempting little pink nipples, too, but aside from that... Hell, there was a lot of Ootori that was still fair game. The strong line of his back. The delicate little dip of his spine. The way his shoulders slimmed to his waist, that little shallow ridge of his hipbones through his skin. And his stomach... He traced the little lines that divided Ootori's belly, just the very tips of his fingers, feeling them firm under his touch--
"Shishido-san, please don't..." the sound was almost a breath, like a plea, as Ootori canted his head back, and the mirror on the bureau, as Shishido opened his eyes, showed those arched, mahogany eyes half-closed, silvery brows coming together in something that did look like protest.
Okay, Ootori was telling him to stop. Shishido sighed, and stilled his hands, clasping them one on top another on Ootori's belly, and leaned his cheek on the back in front of him. Okay, no more sucking on Ootori's shoulder today. "Sorry, Choutarou. Didn't mean to--"
"...don't stop." Ootori finished--then blinked, and Shishido felt muscles moving against him as Ootori craned his head around to look at him. "Oh. You stopped."
Shishido blinked back, and grinned--before he closed his teeth over the flesh beside Ootori's shoulder, just gently, surprising a little 'Oh!' from his roommate... before he soothed the little nip mark with one broad stroke of his tongue. "It's so damned hard to tell what you want sometimes, y'know? I never really know what I'm allowed to do."
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san--I don't mean to be difficult--" Ootori sounded genuinely sorry as he reached down, his fingers curling lightly over Shishido's--his touch was almost always so light that it raised all the hair along Shishido's arms in one long tingle.
It really was weird that he still got called Shishido-san by the boy whose shoulder he had his mouth on. Just for effect, he bit him again--a little harder, this time, and chuckled as Ootori sucked in a quick, sharp breath. "I was just kidding, baka. Choutarou, you're the easiest person in the world to live with. Seriously."
There was the shift of muscle against him again as Ootori blinked, looking puzzled, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He was tempted to growl and just keep nibbling on that shoulder, but he might have left a hickey, and he figured that he didn't really want Ootori getting teased by the rest of the team. He'd given him a newer, stronger chain for his cross after Christmas, but Ootori still did have the habit of clutching at it whenever he was embarrassed--and, really, Shishido didn't want to give his roommate something to be embarrassed about. Even if he did like kissing him, long and slow, until he was blushing and gasping, but that was in the privacy of their own apartment.
Though the thought of marking that pale, sweet shoulder--or, better, the clean arch of that long neck, so that everyone knew that Ootori was his, damn it, was still so tempting...
"Well... I know that... that you're waiting for me," Ootori sounded so uncomfortable, his brows drawn together and eyes wide, and so damned earnest. "It's just... I'm sorr--"
Shishido slid one hand upwards, and shushed his roommate by pressing two fingers to that lush, soft, kissable mouth. And he would know just how kissable it was. "Ah, Hell. Don't apologise, Choutarou," he leaned over, and kissed at the little bite mark he'd made earlier. It'd fade in a matter of moments, he knew--even Ootori's pale skin wouldn't mark that easily--and even as he watched, it disappeared to a tiny damp patch. "Take your time. It's a big step." You're worth it.
He was, however, going to have to talk to Choutarou about not squirming like that when Shishido was pressed against his back like this. Only the fact that he had Ootori's bare back to press his face against kept him from groaning aloud and giving up the whole damned control thing by reaching down to cup Ootori through those slim blue jeans. Except he knew that his partner just wasn't going to be affected quite the way he was by all this, because, well, Ootori just wasn't sexual like that--but not even he could stand steady through a hand on his cock, Shishido was willing to bet... but he didn't test that. He knew the rules.
"But you're ready," Ootori murmured, a little indistinctly, past the fingers.
And then... oh-SHIT-I-don't-believe-him Ootori opened his mouth, that sweet, little tempting mouth, and Shishido's fingertips fell past his lips, resting lightly against the smooth pearl of teeth. And even as he stared into the mirror, disbelieving, and quite possibly harder than he'd ever been in his life--the tip of that soft tongue he'd had on his lips in the tiniest, shyest little flicks moved in the briefest touch over the pads of his fingers, and Shishido's eyes almost rolled back in his head as that soft, soft wetness slid over his fingertips, and then Choutarou was almost closing his lips around them, almost sucking as he lowered his head a little, mahogany eyes half-closed, tongue sliding slick to cradle his fingers--
Shishido had only just enough control to yank his hand away, his fingers away from where Ootori had seemed pretty damned determined to demonstrate what it would be like to get a blowjob from him. There was no stopping the moan that shook all along his body, or the way his hips rocked against Ootori's rear, pressing his hard-on against the firm globes through too many layers of cloth, or the way he bit down on Ootori's shoulder--hard--with a growl so animal it surprised even him.
"Ita--!" Ootori yelped, his hands shooting out to balance himself against the bureau--and pushing his rear against Shishido's crotch.
Shishido let go of his partner and managed to step back, shaking, just as Choutarou straightened, eyes huge and startled as he brought his hand up to his shoulder, peering at the marks that Shishido's teeth had left on the soft pale of his shoulder. "Shishido-san, you bit me!"
After Ootori had been sucking on his fingers, he was surprised that Shishido had bitten him?! "Geez, Choutarou--don't do things like that--" his voice sounded strained. Actually, no, it sounded downright choked, but that was because he was shaking, and he was suddenly so glad that Ootori was going to be leaving to go to some kind of concert thing soon, because, holy gods, he wasn't even going to be able to walk if he didn't get some relief. "Damn it! You've got no clue what you're messing with!"
Ootori just blinked at him again, rubbing his shoulder, before smiling, just a little--and maybe just the tiniest bit smugly. "Sorry, Shishido-san."
He most definitely did not sound repentant. He was, in fact, leaning just the tiniest bit back against the bureau, his shoulders set back, that delicious chest and stomach so utterly bared as his head fell back, exposing the long line of that neck, moving as he swallowed...
Shishido stared, and just barely managed to keep from ripping off those damned blue jeans, bending Ootori over the bureau, and--oh, Hell, he was going to not survive out the year. "You. Are. Such. A. Friggin'. Tease."
Okay, so maybe Ootori wasn't quite that oblivious to the effect that he was having on Shishido.
Oh, Hell. Fuck control.
Shishido took the two steps forward at a rush, quickly enough that he knew Ootori wasn't going to be able to dodge him--and slammed his partner back against the bureau. With a dip of his head, he latched onto the bite mark he'd made--licking and suckling at it to the sound of Ootori's soft little cries, and the weak little nudges against his shoulders--no, that most definitely did not count as a sufficient protest, not at this point--until, finally, Shishido relented--
And thrust his hands into those soft, silvery waves of hair, dragging Ootori's mouth down to his as he completely ignored that little 'Mmph!' He devoured those soft lips, thrusting his tongue past that warm softness--it didn't pass him by the Ootori's eyes were closed, his mouth falling open--and growling as the tip of that tempting, so-soft tongue slipped against his, twining tentatively--and then not tentatively. He normally tried to be so careful when he was kissing Ootori, not pushing, not biting against that full, soft lower lip, but oh, all bets were off now and he closed his teeth--gently--around that lip, nibbling, and lapping until the hands pushing on his shoulders were clutching against him, not pushing him away.
"Don't tease me, Choutarou," he growled against swollen lips, grinning before he stepped back--and saw Ootori wobble, clutching against the bureau for balance. "You really don't know what you're getting yourself into. 'Cause I've told myself I'm gonna wait 'till you ask me for it, but Hell, you're upping the ante to begging."
Right. Like he could actually keep himself from pouncing on Ootori the moment he showed--without a doubt--that he was the least bit willing. The only thing that kept Shishido from trying anything was, well, knowing that Ootori had no friggin' idea what he'd be letting loose... and, Hell, he wanted his Choutarou to understand what was going to happen--and, more importantly, to want it as much as he did.
Though he wondered sometimes if that was actually possible.
Ootori looked... dazed, mouth falling just the tiniest hint open on a tiny little sound that was almost a whimper. And Shishido dared a brief, tiny glance downwards as he caught his breath back--and noted the unmistakable bulge in blue jeans that clung unquestionably--and they looked suddenly even more uncomfortable than Shishido's loose shorts--to those slim hips.
Oh, yum. And maybe Ootori wasn't as unaffected by him as Shishido had thought, either.
He stepped forward, more slowly--Ootori didn't try to move, just stared down at him--and traced his lips gently on that little crimson mark. "Mine," he purred, happily. All mine.
Yes, he was most definitely content now--well, as far as he could be content with a hard-on that would have been painful if he'd been wearing anything but boxers and his practice shorts.
"C'mon, Choutarou," he shook his head and turned him towards the bureau, amused by his partner's stunned expression as those long, violin-callused fingers trailed up to the by-now-unmistakable love bite, high on his shoulder. Shishido had always thought that one favour deserved another--and, well, if Ootori was going to do something to him that was going to haunt Shishido's dreams for months, his partner could damned well walk around with a hickey for a week. "You're going to be late to your concert."
"Huh?" Oh, yeah, Ootori most definitely looked dazed. "Concert?"
Shishido grinned at him over his shoulder and looked into the drawer, reaching through the carefully folded piles of shirts. "I'll help you find something to wear that covers that."
For now, at least.
~owari~
Started: 01-05-04
Finished: 01-05-04
I'm starting to get into this write-in-a-couple-of-hours things. ^_^
*grin* Oh, interesting note: Shishido's and Ootori's little "please don't... don't stop" misunderstanding actually does have a pretty fair equivalent in Japanese: "Yame... yamenai de kure/kudasai..." where 'yame' means 'stop,' but can be the precursor to 'yamenai de', which means 'don't stop.' I kept that out of the story to keep the Japanese to a minimum. ^_^
I'm not sure why I really enjoyed writing this. It just... poured out. I'm sure emilychan had something to do with it--Boys Waiting is just too cute an image to pass up for them... but hey, Shishido had to get a hickey *growl* some of his own in... ^_^