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Sunday 6 April 2008
Forgiveness Lies In..- adronicus
Title: Forgiveness Lies In..
Author: adronicus
Prompt: #72: Fixed
Word Count: 893
Rating: R or even light NC-17 ( I sorta suck at ratings if you haven’t noticed yet.)
Disclamer: Don’t own. The end
Summary: Ohmiya SK and four genres in one (angst, fluff, smut and crack, go me)
Author’s Notes: So,
lady_gemma was sick..and to make her happy this happened. Yep, that’s about it. Also to windrette, look! There are feathers!!!! But I have another idea involving feathers too so no worries, I’m not trying to kill two birds with one stone or anything ^^.
If a door could wince, it would, seeing as Nino was stomping towards it with a great intent to hurt something , even if it was just a door.
And indeed as Nino reached the door and crashed his way through it, he pushed at it roughly with a hand to make it feel his pain.
Except, well if a door could sigh, it would, because at that moment Ohno had caught up and so it was the hand that took the brunt of Nino’s beginning anger.
“Why did you have to drop me so damn hard, Satoshi! It hurt!” was the response that Ohno got as he shuffled into the room, trying to shake the pain from his hand absentmindedly.
Ohno’s face might have scrunched into a vision of contriteness, except it really didn’t because it’s not like this hasn’t happened before, not like this wasn’t almost a game. So all he did was come further into the room, scuffle closer to the slightly bent back of a pouting Nino, splay a hand, warm and heavy, over the finely protruding ribs that are barely noticeable under the slinky material of the blue shirt.
“I’m sorry Nino-kun, it won’t happen again.”
Except for they both know it will and that the sentence is only real in the way that the words were spoken out loud, laid out for all the walls, the chairs, the mirrors to hear. And he doesn’t say anything about making it up to Nino, just kisses his neck and nuzzles slightly.
And Nino can’t help but giggle because the feathers that come with the uniform of Ohmiya SK are fluffy enough to be ticklish even to one that is resolutely not .
Ohno smiles, eyes still a little far away and grasps the headband, pulling it and the feather out and proceeding to fluff it gently against Nino’s neck and the side of his face and his bare arms. Nino squirms, and unable to decide between laugher and grumbling, skitters away from Ohno and spins to face him.
Ohno’s eyes get sharper, almost like they do when Ohno is dancing, but with a sparkle that is more mischievous than serious, and he moves slowly in the direction of his escaping pray, feather swishing back and forth in his grip.
For the next few minutes anyone walking outside the room would hear erratic pounding of shoes, scattered laughter, muffled whining, until suddenly things went strangely silent.
The silence started because Ohno had finally pinned a protesting Nino to the wall. And Ohno pushed up Nino’s shirt to get at his sides with the red, red feather, except that Nino’s skin was incredibly smooth and inviting and it wasn’t really Ohno’s fault that his hand released the feather so that it could make a more direct contact with that delectable expanse. And it wasn’t his fault that his lips descended swiftly on those of Nino’s, because really Nino’s pouting lips were too good to be left alone.
It was almost predictable when Nino wrenched his lips away and grumbled – lips already pulling upwards in a leer:
“You know you can’t just say you’re sorry. You have to show me!”
Maybe later the walls would whisper to themselves about how Ohno whispered something like, “what is it you want me to show you”, but even that didn’t matter because even if there had been anything said there was no reply and Ohno was already sliding – as graceful as he was on the stage – down, fingers snagging briefly on the elastic and flowing down to Nino’s ankles, stopping on the way to feather a long line down the already growing bulge on the front of the blue shorts.
Nino growled, fingers moving to tangle in the other’s hair, and might have said something impatiently, but once again the words didn’t matter, because Ohno was really just as impatient and his hands were already reaching for the elastic again and pulling it down swiftly, though not exactly free of his usual clumsiness.
Nino’s grumble of abuse turns into a moan as Ohno’s lips wrap around him, warm and wet and Nino’s hands tighten in his hair. It’s too much, too fast, too good and Ohno’s hands are on his hips and his tongue is agile and curious and his hair is brushing just below his bellybutton, soft and tickling. All too soon Nino’s head hit the wall behind him as the pressure became too much, as the fire kindling inside uncurled explosively, racing through his veins and oh.
Not much time passed before Sho froze in the doorway, blushing furiously and shutting his eyes resolutely. In fact it was almost a ridiculously short amount of time because when Jun poked his head in to see what was happening – not before snapping at Aiba, who had slammed into him from behind – and saw Nino still slumped languidly against a wall, naked from the waist down and Ohno sitting against his legs, one hand wrapped around Nino’s thigh and the other smoothing random patterns into the others hip.
Aiba never did figure out why Jun pulled Sho bodily from the doorway and slammed the door, before he could glance in. When he told Nino about the incident, Nino laughed heartily and told him to go ask the walls.
The end.
Author: adronicus
Prompt: #72: Fixed
Word Count: 893
Rating: R or even light NC-17 ( I sorta suck at ratings if you haven’t noticed yet.)
Disclamer: Don’t own. The end
Summary: Ohmiya SK and four genres in one (angst, fluff, smut and crack, go me)
Author’s Notes: So,
lady_gemma was sick..and to make her happy this happened. Yep, that’s about it. Also to windrette, look! There are feathers!!!! But I have another idea involving feathers too so no worries, I’m not trying to kill two birds with one stone or anything ^^.If a door could wince, it would, seeing as Nino was stomping towards it with a great intent to hurt something , even if it was just a door.
And indeed as Nino reached the door and crashed his way through it, he pushed at it roughly with a hand to make it feel his pain.
Except, well if a door could sigh, it would, because at that moment Ohno had caught up and so it was the hand that took the brunt of Nino’s beginning anger.
“Why did you have to drop me so damn hard, Satoshi! It hurt!” was the response that Ohno got as he shuffled into the room, trying to shake the pain from his hand absentmindedly.
Ohno’s face might have scrunched into a vision of contriteness, except it really didn’t because it’s not like this hasn’t happened before, not like this wasn’t almost a game. So all he did was come further into the room, scuffle closer to the slightly bent back of a pouting Nino, splay a hand, warm and heavy, over the finely protruding ribs that are barely noticeable under the slinky material of the blue shirt.
“I’m sorry Nino-kun, it won’t happen again.”
Except for they both know it will and that the sentence is only real in the way that the words were spoken out loud, laid out for all the walls, the chairs, the mirrors to hear. And he doesn’t say anything about making it up to Nino, just kisses his neck and nuzzles slightly.
And Nino can’t help but giggle because the feathers that come with the uniform of Ohmiya SK are fluffy enough to be ticklish even to one that is resolutely not .
Ohno smiles, eyes still a little far away and grasps the headband, pulling it and the feather out and proceeding to fluff it gently against Nino’s neck and the side of his face and his bare arms. Nino squirms, and unable to decide between laugher and grumbling, skitters away from Ohno and spins to face him.
Ohno’s eyes get sharper, almost like they do when Ohno is dancing, but with a sparkle that is more mischievous than serious, and he moves slowly in the direction of his escaping pray, feather swishing back and forth in his grip.
For the next few minutes anyone walking outside the room would hear erratic pounding of shoes, scattered laughter, muffled whining, until suddenly things went strangely silent.
The silence started because Ohno had finally pinned a protesting Nino to the wall. And Ohno pushed up Nino’s shirt to get at his sides with the red, red feather, except that Nino’s skin was incredibly smooth and inviting and it wasn’t really Ohno’s fault that his hand released the feather so that it could make a more direct contact with that delectable expanse. And it wasn’t his fault that his lips descended swiftly on those of Nino’s, because really Nino’s pouting lips were too good to be left alone.
It was almost predictable when Nino wrenched his lips away and grumbled – lips already pulling upwards in a leer:
“You know you can’t just say you’re sorry. You have to show me!”
Maybe later the walls would whisper to themselves about how Ohno whispered something like, “what is it you want me to show you”, but even that didn’t matter because even if there had been anything said there was no reply and Ohno was already sliding – as graceful as he was on the stage – down, fingers snagging briefly on the elastic and flowing down to Nino’s ankles, stopping on the way to feather a long line down the already growing bulge on the front of the blue shorts.
Nino growled, fingers moving to tangle in the other’s hair, and might have said something impatiently, but once again the words didn’t matter, because Ohno was really just as impatient and his hands were already reaching for the elastic again and pulling it down swiftly, though not exactly free of his usual clumsiness.
Nino’s grumble of abuse turns into a moan as Ohno’s lips wrap around him, warm and wet and Nino’s hands tighten in his hair. It’s too much, too fast, too good and Ohno’s hands are on his hips and his tongue is agile and curious and his hair is brushing just below his bellybutton, soft and tickling. All too soon Nino’s head hit the wall behind him as the pressure became too much, as the fire kindling inside uncurled explosively, racing through his veins and oh.
Not much time passed before Sho froze in the doorway, blushing furiously and shutting his eyes resolutely. In fact it was almost a ridiculously short amount of time because when Jun poked his head in to see what was happening – not before snapping at Aiba, who had slammed into him from behind – and saw Nino still slumped languidly against a wall, naked from the waist down and Ohno sitting against his legs, one hand wrapped around Nino’s thigh and the other smoothing random patterns into the others hip.
Aiba never did figure out why Jun pulled Sho bodily from the doorway and slammed the door, before he could glance in. When he told Nino about the incident, Nino laughed heartily and told him to go ask the walls.
The end.
Labels: fanfiction
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