As You Wish
Title: As You Wish
Pairing: Shori/Fuma
Rating: PG
Word count: 982
A/N: I wanted to help Cortney cheer up and the “quick drabble” kind of… escalated quickly. Warnings for randomly awakening feels and extra cheesiness in the end.
- - -
"Fuma," Shori suddenly says while closing the door of their dressing room, and Fuma looks up from the study book he has on his lap. "Can you come here for a bit?"
"What is it?" Fuma chuckles and raises his eyebrows. He waits for a moment but Shori just keeps looking at him expectantly, and finally Fuma drags himself up from the sofa.
"Here I am," he says once he stands in front of Shori, spreading his arms as if making his location even clearer.
"Closer," Shori asks, backing a few steps himself.
The younger man's serious face awakens Fuma's curiosity and he steps closer, frowning when Shori takes as many steps backwards.
"Is this some kind of a prank?" Fuma asks suspiciously, "The kind where I need to stand on some exact place and then something awful happens?"
"It's not," Shori says and reaches over to grab Fuma's wrists. His hands are warm and surprisingly strong, and Fuma lets himself be pulled ahead until Shori has his back against the door and Fuma is standing close enough that their chests brush lightly against each other every time they happen to inhale at the same time.
By now Fuma feels absolutely weird. He wants to ask what’s going on; what’s with Shori’s serious expression and this whole thing. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know how to start, and before he can figure out anything, Shori pulls on his wrists again, guiding Fuma's palms to settle on his thin waist.
“Come on,” Shori murmurs when Fuma doesn’t quite dare to relax, “Hold me. You know how.”
Fine, Fuma thinks, if that’s what Shori really wants. He slides his palms behind Shori’s back, applying just the right amount of pressure that it pulls their bodies together from chest to knees, and feeling his eyes grow round when Shori lets out a small gasp which makes it obvious that he liked Fuma's move.
“What are you doing?” Fuma asks in a husky whisper. His own body is reacting greedily to the warmth and closeness of Shori’s body, and he’s still slightly afraid of some kind of a prank. Even though none of it really feels a Shori-like prank.
“In fact it’s you who’s doing things,” Shori murmurs and takes a deep breath as he leans the back his head to rest against the door, “I’m just asking. And it doesn’t look like you’re refusing to fulfill my wishes.”
“What is it exactly that you are wishing?”
Shori looks up into Fuma’s eyes without any hesitating, and the look makes Fuma’s heart suddenly speed up for a reason he doesn’t quite understand himself.
“I wish you’d kiss me,” Shori says in a voice so low it’s barely audible.
Fuma knows he should refuse. He should step back and let go of Shori, and demand for an explanation.
Without a word, he leans down and closes the distance between them, pressing his lips on Shori’s.
He means it to be a mere brush of lips but when Shori immediately leans closer, more responsive than Fuma has ever imagined he could be, he abandons all the modesty and kisses Shori the way he wants to; pressing Shori against the door and moving his lips against Shori’s slowly yet firmly, coaxing Shori to open his mouth just enough that Fuma can stroke Shori’s lower lip with his tongue every now and then.
Shori tilts his head even further, answering to the kiss in a way that makes Fuma wonder where he ever learned to do that in the first place. He doesn’t bother with the thought for a long time though, not with the way Shori demands for his attention right at the moment.
The heat between them keeps growing until Fuma realizes they have to stop or he really starts getting hard on it, and that’s something he really doesn’t want to happen - not without knowing what it all is about. He gently makes their pace slow down until it feels natural to withdraw an inch and open his eyes again.
Shori’s eyes are still closed and his chest is slowly rising and descending with the deep, shaky breaths he’s taking. His lips are flushed red and slightly swollen, and somehow that’s the most attractive thing Fuma has seen in a long while.
“Will you explain now?” he asks with a soft breathy laugh, quite sure Shori can feel the rapid thumping of his heart where their chests are still pressed together. Somehow, Fuma’s heart seems to be as confused as his brain, and it feels weird. And good. Frighteningly good.
“There’s not much to explain,” Shori admits quietly, “I just. I’ve wanted you to do that for quite a long time. Thank you, really. You… you can go back to the whatever book it was that you were reading. It’s okay, I promise to pretend none of this never happened.”
Despite Shori’s calm and composed appearance there’s something in his eyes that speaks a completely other language than his words do. The kind of language Fuma isn’t sure if he understands, but his heart definitely does.
“You know,” he says slowly, “I could fulfill that wish, too. I’m just afraid I don’t want to. I’d rather I could continue doing this,” he says and tightens his arms around Shori to emphasize his words.
“Y-you would?” Shori breathes. All of a sudden his calmness crumbles down, and the combination of vulnerability and awakening hope on his face is what assures Fuma he’s doing the right thing, and he smiles down at Shori.
“If you’ll let me.”
The nervous, incredulous smile is much more Shori-like than any of his expressions before, and Fuma feels the effects of the smile from his head to toes.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Shori says, aiming for a carefree tone and failing miserably when Fuma chuckles and leans in to kiss him again.
- - -
Pairing: Shori/Fuma
Rating: PG
Word count: 982
A/N: I wanted to help Cortney cheer up and the “quick drabble” kind of… escalated quickly. Warnings for randomly awakening feels and extra cheesiness in the end.
- - -
"Fuma," Shori suddenly says while closing the door of their dressing room, and Fuma looks up from the study book he has on his lap. "Can you come here for a bit?"
"What is it?" Fuma chuckles and raises his eyebrows. He waits for a moment but Shori just keeps looking at him expectantly, and finally Fuma drags himself up from the sofa.
"Here I am," he says once he stands in front of Shori, spreading his arms as if making his location even clearer.
"Closer," Shori asks, backing a few steps himself.
The younger man's serious face awakens Fuma's curiosity and he steps closer, frowning when Shori takes as many steps backwards.
"Is this some kind of a prank?" Fuma asks suspiciously, "The kind where I need to stand on some exact place and then something awful happens?"
"It's not," Shori says and reaches over to grab Fuma's wrists. His hands are warm and surprisingly strong, and Fuma lets himself be pulled ahead until Shori has his back against the door and Fuma is standing close enough that their chests brush lightly against each other every time they happen to inhale at the same time.
By now Fuma feels absolutely weird. He wants to ask what’s going on; what’s with Shori’s serious expression and this whole thing. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know how to start, and before he can figure out anything, Shori pulls on his wrists again, guiding Fuma's palms to settle on his thin waist.
“Come on,” Shori murmurs when Fuma doesn’t quite dare to relax, “Hold me. You know how.”
Fine, Fuma thinks, if that’s what Shori really wants. He slides his palms behind Shori’s back, applying just the right amount of pressure that it pulls their bodies together from chest to knees, and feeling his eyes grow round when Shori lets out a small gasp which makes it obvious that he liked Fuma's move.
“What are you doing?” Fuma asks in a husky whisper. His own body is reacting greedily to the warmth and closeness of Shori’s body, and he’s still slightly afraid of some kind of a prank. Even though none of it really feels a Shori-like prank.
“In fact it’s you who’s doing things,” Shori murmurs and takes a deep breath as he leans the back his head to rest against the door, “I’m just asking. And it doesn’t look like you’re refusing to fulfill my wishes.”
“What is it exactly that you are wishing?”
Shori looks up into Fuma’s eyes without any hesitating, and the look makes Fuma’s heart suddenly speed up for a reason he doesn’t quite understand himself.
“I wish you’d kiss me,” Shori says in a voice so low it’s barely audible.
Fuma knows he should refuse. He should step back and let go of Shori, and demand for an explanation.
Without a word, he leans down and closes the distance between them, pressing his lips on Shori’s.
He means it to be a mere brush of lips but when Shori immediately leans closer, more responsive than Fuma has ever imagined he could be, he abandons all the modesty and kisses Shori the way he wants to; pressing Shori against the door and moving his lips against Shori’s slowly yet firmly, coaxing Shori to open his mouth just enough that Fuma can stroke Shori’s lower lip with his tongue every now and then.
Shori tilts his head even further, answering to the kiss in a way that makes Fuma wonder where he ever learned to do that in the first place. He doesn’t bother with the thought for a long time though, not with the way Shori demands for his attention right at the moment.
The heat between them keeps growing until Fuma realizes they have to stop or he really starts getting hard on it, and that’s something he really doesn’t want to happen - not without knowing what it all is about. He gently makes their pace slow down until it feels natural to withdraw an inch and open his eyes again.
Shori’s eyes are still closed and his chest is slowly rising and descending with the deep, shaky breaths he’s taking. His lips are flushed red and slightly swollen, and somehow that’s the most attractive thing Fuma has seen in a long while.
“Will you explain now?” he asks with a soft breathy laugh, quite sure Shori can feel the rapid thumping of his heart where their chests are still pressed together. Somehow, Fuma’s heart seems to be as confused as his brain, and it feels weird. And good. Frighteningly good.
“There’s not much to explain,” Shori admits quietly, “I just. I’ve wanted you to do that for quite a long time. Thank you, really. You… you can go back to the whatever book it was that you were reading. It’s okay, I promise to pretend none of this never happened.”
Despite Shori’s calm and composed appearance there’s something in his eyes that speaks a completely other language than his words do. The kind of language Fuma isn’t sure if he understands, but his heart definitely does.
“You know,” he says slowly, “I could fulfill that wish, too. I’m just afraid I don’t want to. I’d rather I could continue doing this,” he says and tightens his arms around Shori to emphasize his words.
“Y-you would?” Shori breathes. All of a sudden his calmness crumbles down, and the combination of vulnerability and awakening hope on his face is what assures Fuma he’s doing the right thing, and he smiles down at Shori.
“If you’ll let me.”
The nervous, incredulous smile is much more Shori-like than any of his expressions before, and Fuma feels the effects of the smile from his head to toes.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Shori says, aiming for a carefree tone and failing miserably when Fuma chuckles and leans in to kiss him again.
- - -