Eyeshield 21 Standalone

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Branch

Many short pieces on Hiruma, Hiruma with Mamori, Hiruma with his rivals. Sena's staunch adorableness does come through here and there, though.

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://www.branchandroot.net/archive/).

"Souvenirs" published on 2007-03-21 14:18:14.

"Negatives" published on 2007-03-26 14:20:43.

"Personal Weapons" published on 2007-03-26 14:22:30.

"Size Matters" published on 2007-04-15 14:46:03.

"Rain Falls Hard" published on 2007-07-07 14:49:34.

"Waiting For Dragonflies" published on 2007-09-13 20:29:38.

"A Knowing Smile" published on 2008-03-31 17:13:24.

"Overdetermined" published on 2008-06-19 15:41:27.

"Reach and Grasp" published on 2008-06-19 15:41:58.

"Remember and Forget" published on 2008-10-05 22:08:17.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on September 6, 2019 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Cover illustration is "Los Picos de Europa" by Carlos de Haes, public domain (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Carlos_de_Haes_-_Los_picos_de_Europa.jpg).

Cover design by Branch.

Souvenirs

Hiruma considers the things he's gotten from his friends. Drama, I-2

He's never been a sensualist or any kind of aesthete. He doesn't savor food or drink for their tastes. He doesn't buy fine clothes to feel the textures against his skin. He doesn't go to watch the flowers at any time of year.

The few sense pleasures he enjoys are the gifts of other people.

The hot, black bitterness of coffee, steaming in a thick mug, is the taste and smell of a talk with Musashi. The dry rattle of paper and wood, under the still, slanting shadows of leaves and temple roofs, is the sound and color of Kurita's trust.

And, while he never expected to enjoy either, the sharp tang of cleaners coming off sleek, bright surfaces is the scent of Anezaki's care.

So when Anezaki wonders how he can possibly drink his coffee black, or Musashi wants to know why he doesn't open a window already, he just laughs.

Life is like that.

End

Negatives

Hiruma considers Mamori. Romantic Introspective, I-3

This was how he put it to himself:

Anezaki Mamori understood the need to fight for what you wanted and cared about.

She was cheerful and outgoing, and probably even sweet, but he doubted she'd be able to carry off refinement or elegance without bursting into giggles half way there.

She never fought fire with fire; she fought fire with a goddamn mop.

She cared for the weak and defenseless, and also for the strong and independent, and even for the downright fucking dangerous. She cared for people like it was her favorite hobby, and it drove him batshit insane and it made him laugh.

She never touched alcohol, not because she took any special effort to avoid it, but simply as though drinking herself drunk never occurred to her as a useful thing to do.

She growled at him and about him, glaring nose-to-nose, but she never once thought she was a failure because of him.

He'd seen older men, men with rings on their left hands, look at her, and he'd seen her dismiss them, cheerful and oblivious and impervious as a boulder rolling over a branch.

In short, Anezaki Mamori was as different from his mother as it was possible to be and still have two X chromosomes, and that was why he was still standing here, watching her look away and turn red, and touching his cheek where he could still feel the light brush of her lips.

"Crazy fucking woman," he muttered at last, and she spun around, fire in her eyes, mouth open to tear a strip off him, and then she stopped.

He thought it was because he'd taken her hand.

End

Personal Weapons

Hiruma and Mamori play with guns. Romance, I-2

She knew that she was spending too much time, far too much time, with Hiruma when she found her right hand tensing during extra long committee meetings, index finger curling further back the longer Yomura-kun babbled on. She worried a bit about that, but not too much. The telling point, she felt, was that, however enticing the idea of things that went bang and whoosh and crackle were, she didn't really want to shoot Hiruma himself. If she were being corrupted by his wild, thoughtless attitude she would, wouldn't she? No one annoyed her as much as he did, after all.

What she wanted to do to Hiruma was swat him repeatedly in the face with a wet mop. And only sometimes.

She did find her eyes and then her fingers wandering over the guns he left on the bench beside him, though, tracing over the rough grips, brushing the slides. She had to admit, in the privacy of her own mind, the way people hopped to do what Hiruma said when he had one of these in hand was extremely tempting at times.

"You wanting to burn something else up, fucking manager? You've got the wrong one for that."

Mamori snatched her fingers back, flushing. "Don't be ridiculous!" Warming to the offensive, which was the only way to deal with Hiruma, she added, "And that was your fault for leaving something that dangerous just lying around."

He raised a brow at her and snorted. "Who was it who picked the damn thing up and pulled the trigger without knowing what it was?"

"You should have said," she insisted stubbornly.

He gave her a long look. "Well, that's a .30, and that's an AK-47, and this is an uzi, just for fun, that one's a SAM, and for fuck's sake you don't just poke at them, hold it like you mean it."

Her spine stiffened at that last bit. "Fine, then!" She wrapped her fingers around the smallest one, holding it away from either of them.

Hiruma rolled his eyes. "Not like that!" He pushed up to his feet and came around behind her, hands closing over hers to bring the gun up in front of them. "Even the kick on this little thing will take it out of your hands if you hold it like that. Like this, so the punch goes back into your shoulders."

At first she stiffened a bit, finding him more or less hugging her. Kind of more than less, actually. She blushed at the press of his thigh against hers as he nudged her foot forward.

"Little further apart; there. Now unlock your elbows."

Slowly, she relaxed. His hands moving her arms, shoulders, ribs, were light and impersonal. And she could feel that this was a more solid way to stand.

"Like this?" She lifted the gun in both hands, chest high.

"About. Now, see that blocking sled over there?" A long finger pointed over her shoulder.

"The one Kurita-kun broke today?" she shot back a bit dryly. Honestly, it was a good thing Hiruma did have ways to get more funding out of the principal.

"Yeah, that one." She could hear his grin. "Look hard at it, and pull the trigger slowly."

The crack of the shot made her jump, and even she could see the bullet went wild. She frowned and lined up again before Hiruma could say anything. She wasn't used to not being able to do the things she tried. The next one jarred her back, rocking her on her heels, but a hole darkened the sled's padding. She nodded with satisfaction and lifted her chin, looking over her shoulder at Hiruma. Just let him try to call her ignorant or incompetent again. When their eyes met she had to blink, though.

His sharp grin, gleaming down at her, wasn't impersonal at all.

End

Size Matters

Crossover with Gundam Wing. Hiruma and Heero have a Spandex Space contest. Duo has an Idea. The world is in trouble now. Total Crack, I-1

They'd barely been at this school two hours and already Heero was regretting it.

"Mmm, strength, grip, yeah you're perfect." The blond weird guy with the sharp teeth grinned at them, which made the teeth a lot more obvious. "Welcome to the American Football club!"

"I'm not in any clubs," Heero answered as evenly as he could when Duo was stifling snickers behind him.

The grin got impossibly wider. "You are now." Hiruma pulled out a small black book and started paging delicately through it. "Let's see now. Hm. Oh yeah." He cackled. "Where do I fucking start? You guys are a blackmailer's dream!"

At the word "blackmail" spinal reflex got Heero's gun out and pointed. But then he had to stop and reprocess the whole thing, because there was an assault rifle aimed dead center at him and another at Duo.

And Hiruma was still grinning. "You'll love football, trust me."

Heero was having a little trouble with the combination of "blackmail" and "ball game club". They didn't seem like they should go together

"If you don't mind my asking," Duo put in, "where did you just get these from?" He tapped the muzzle, not at all put out by being held at gunpoint. Heero supposed he was used to it by now.

Hiruma lifted a brow and nodded at Heero's skimpy tank top and shorts. "Same place he got his, probably."

"Mysterious extra space in the spandex, gotcha." Duo eyed the black book thoughtfully and shrugged. "Ever thought of piloting a Mobile Suit?"

Hiruma scratched his chin. "Hmm. You'd need a really big football."

Duo shot Heero a helpless look, corners of his mouth twitching up. Heero shrugged back. They could play football for a while. It would give him a chance to find a better opening to get the drop on this guy.

Hiruma's eyes gleamed. "I knew you'd see it my way."

... or possibly not.

"Hey," Duo whispered, as they followed Hiruma toward the playing fields, "what do you think would happen if we told him that Treize Kushurenada plans to shut down all football leagues around the world?"

Heero's eyes narrowed and he smiled.

Six Months Later...

"... and the new Alliance leader has declared that his, er, Mobile Suit Football teams are available at a modest rental fee to any government, to settle political and territorial disputes. Supreme Captain Hiruma added 'Football rules the world, ke ke ke.'" The news announcer sounded like she didn't quite believe what she was saying, and who could blame her? But there was no arguing with facts.

Five dazed Gundam pilots stared at the screen.

"Okay," Duo said, slowly. "Maybe that was a miscalculation."

"It's peace," Heero declared. "I'll take it."

The door disintegrated in a storm of bullets. Hiruma appeared in it, grinning. "Found you! Get in those suits and get moving; practice starts in half an hour!"

"We resigned from that club!"

"We were never in that club!"

"I was never in that school!"

Hiruma rubbed his chin, looking elaborately innocent. It was the most unconvincing thing any of them had ever seen. "Really? Then, I wonder where these sign-up papers came from?" He fanned five forms in one hand, and everyone leaned in to look.

Their signatures were all perfectly forged.

Heero growled and went for his gun. Hiruma's hands were full, and Heero had no intention of playing football for the rest of his life.

Only Hiruma's hands were suddenly full of metal instead of paper, and half an arsenal was pointed at them. Quatre grabbed Heero's wrist.

"I don't want to die just as the war's ended," he said firmly.

Hiruma's grin now showed enough teeth for any two demons. "Practice in half an hour," he repeated.

End

Rain Falls Hard

Set some time after the Semifinals match with Oujo and before the Christmas Bowl. Hiruma promises Takami he'll keep winning. With sex. Porn with Characterization, I-4

Hiruma had to bend his head back and pull Takami down to kiss him. That was all right. It was the ferocity of Takami's grip on his hips that mattered.

"Deimon won't lose," he panted against Takami's ear, fucking Takami with the words as his hand slid up and down Takami's cock. "We'll never lose. You'll only ever have been defeated by the very best in the fucking country. Everyone will know. You could only have lost to us; because we'll never lose to anyone."

Takami made a hoarse sound and his arm tightened like steel around Hiruma.

Hiruma slid long fingers into Takami's hair, hips bucking into the hand between his legs, where they were spread over Takami's thighs. "If I were like the fucking monkey," he whispered, husky, letting the words slide into Takami deeper, slower, "you'd be the only one I'd ever have called Senpai."

"Damn it, Hiruma!"

Hiruma bared his teeth in a smile as Takami came undone, and thrust wantonly into Takami's fist as it tightened around him. By the time he came, Takami was laughing. He didn't let go, even after Hiruma stilled, and they leaned against each other, sweaty and breathless and snickering.

"You know how to flatter someone," Takami gasped.

Hiruma snorted and didn't mention that it was true.

Takami's hands tightened for a moment. "You're all of Kantou's champion now; you'd better not lose," he said, quietly.

Hiruma caught Takami's mouth and kissed him again, hot and wild and definite. "I won't." He showed his teeth when he smiled. "I've already beaten the best."

They both knew that was pure bravado. Big talk. Hiruma's specialty, after all.

Neither of them said so.

End

Waiting For Dragonflies

Hiruma reflects on his team. Introspective with Romance, I-2

Hiruma takes entertainment from life however it comes.

He thinks it's funny that Monta calls his rivals "senpai". Personally, he marks it as the moment when Monta falls in love with a player. Hiruma doesn't mind; the people Monta most wants to beat are the ones he's in love with.

He bares his teeth when he hears Sena using honorifics for Agon. He knows it probably bugs the shit out of that bastard, especially since Deimon beat him. Serves him right.

He looks forward to seeing the look on Juumonji's face when Hiruma gets around to telling him he's the next captain. He has a camera just for the occasion.

And he's going to come see every single one of their games, next year, and drag Yukimitsu with him, exams be damned. If he has to shoot the guy's mother, well, one act of charity won't completely ruin his rep.

Actually, he's lying to himself. He's going to be right back here, next year. Somehow. He can't imagine being anywhere else. He'll let the others think this is the last year, because he'll take motivation anywhere he can find it. But he knows. He can't let go.

That's his strength.

It's gotten him in a lot of trouble, too.

He tightens his arm around Mamori's waist and kisses her again and decides he'll figure out which side this falls under later.

End

A Knowing Smile

Shin offers Sena some help, and gets back a bit more than he bargained for. Or possibly a bit less. Continuity Free, Humor with UST, I-2

Sena

Sena breathed a sigh of relief as the end of the second quarter was called, and then tried not to wince visibly.

"Hey, fucking manager! Get the fucking moron some water."

Mamori-neesan grumbled as she turned away to rummage in her bag. "One of these days, Hiruma-kun, you're going to learn how to actually ask a favor..."

Hiruma-san snorted, and added very quietly as Sena passed behind him, "Cold packs are in my bag in the changing room. Hurry up."

Sena smiled and bobbed a grateful nod and hurried before Mamori-neesan could finish and ask if he was all right. He also carefully kept his lips buttoned over any observations about how Hiruma-san was still protecting him from Mamori-neesan, even after she had stopped protecting him from Hiruma-san. He already hurt enough without getting shot anywhere.

The changing room was deserted, so he let himself hiss and yelp as he peeled his shirt and padding off. He couldn't see any bruise, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, but it felt like his ribs were jabbing his kidneys with every breath.

Holding a cold pack on his lower back when it hurt to flex his arms too far was a bit of a challenge. He'd just fumbled the pack for the second time when the door opened.

"Mm. I thought so."

Sena blinked. "Shin-san." He smiled a bit wryly. "It was a very good tackle." It had just been a slightly bad landing, was all; on someone's shoe, he thought.

"Just a cold pack won't be enough," Shin-san told him, letting the door fall shut as he came to hand Sena a small jar. "Use this."

The scent, when Sena unscrewed the lid, was sharp and spicy and very strong. He looked up at Shin-san, tipping his head in question.

Shin-san frowned just faintly. "If you don't play your best in the second half, winning won't mean anything."

Which wasn't the question Sena had meant, but was one he'd had, so he smiled and ducked his head and scooped up a fingerful of the stuff. "Thank you, Shin-san."

Spreading something on his back turned out to be even harder than holding something there. After a moment the bench creaked as Shin-san sat down behind him.

"Here."

Sena gave the jar back with a sigh of relief. It turned into a bitten-off gasp as two large fingers smoothed the salve over a lot of his lower back and briskly rubbed it in. He twitched a bit as what had to be a huge bruise twinged, but whatever was in that stuff was warm, and the warmth seemed to dissolve the knot over his kidney.

"Ah." Sena sighed out. "Oh, that's better." Shin-san silently spread another layer over his skin and rubbed it in a bit more firmly. That seemed to find another layer of twinges and they jerked and pulled at him, drawing him taut. He kept his teeth clenched on his yelps and sighed gratefully as the heat unwound the twinges again. "Ahh... oohhhh... " Maybe the gasping for breath had made him lightheaded, or maybe it was just the pain going away, but whichever it was was just fine with him, really.

Shin

Seijuurou smiled faintly as Sena sighed, that wincing tension easing, and then blinked as Sena swayed back against his chest. Sena's eyes were closed and his lips were parted on a slow breath, and he was rather flushed. Probably with relief from the pain; he was familiar with how that went. Seijuurou's body was interpreting things a little differently, though, and he had to swallow in a dry throat as Sena relaxed bonelessly against him.

"Is that," he cleared his throat, "better?" He tried to find something to think about besides how slim and strong Sena's body was against his, and how nice Sena's bare skin felt. It didn't work very well.

Sena opened his eyes and smiled. "Lots. Thank you." And then he blinked, and seemed to realize that he was more or less lying in Seijuurou's arms, and shot upright, stammering. "Ah! Um, I, um, excuse me please!"

The relief was only partial, because Sena was still very close and, now that Seijuurou was thinking of it, he had an even better view of how sleek and taut Sena's body had gotten. He tried again to think calming thoughts, like training and football technique, and found himself thinking of new tackles he might try on Sena.

That wasn't helping.

The door flew open to a firm kick and Hiruma looked in. "Hey, aren't you done yet?" His brows rose as he took in who all was present.

Sena smiled brightly. "All finished, Hiruma-san! Shin-san was very kind and helped out. I'm fine now!"

Hiruma's brows rose further as he eyed the two of them. "Right, then. Get going." A corner of his mouth curled up as he looked at Seijuurou. "As for you. I said I'd bring him to you. I didn't say you could have him."

Seijuurou rose silently and strode out of the room as well as he was able at the moment, trying not to pay any attention to Hiruma's wicked laugh and just be grateful for Sena's look of total incomprehension.

There had better be time for a cold shower before halftime was over.

End

Overdetermined

After it's over, Hiruma tries again to convince Kid of the value of wanting things. Written for Porn Battle, with the prompt: Hiruma/Kid, dreams. Drama with Porn, I-4, Spoilers for the Christmas Bowl match

The young man who was very careful to think of himself as Kid leaned against the wall and nodded at Hiruma's arm. "How did you manage that, anyway?"

Hiruma grinned, all teeth. "It's all in how much you want it." He wriggled his fingers at Kid, a bit taunting.

Kid snorted. Amazing how fast something turned into an old argument. "For some, I guess that works."

Hiruma pushed away from the wall and glared. "It works if you fucking stay with it. Are you going to spend your whole life half-assed?"

Kid looked away.

Hiruma's growl didn't surprise him, but the hand in his hair did, pulling him around and down to meet Hiruma's mouth on his.

"You're a fucking idiot and it drives me fucking crazy to watch." The words were muffled but fierce, fierce as the heat of Hiruma's body against his.

Fierce but not careless. Hiruma was angled carefully away from Kid's right side. It felt strange. Almost unbalanced. Not that he got much time to think about it.

"You need to want something, or how the hell do you tell you're alive?" Hiruma's fingers flicked open Kid's pants and dove inside. His hand closed on Kid's cock, long and competent, just like they closed on a ball. On a dart.

On a gun.

Kid couldn't stifle the sound he made, and Hiruma's mouth swallowed it, tasted it. Curved.

"I know you love it," Hiruma breathed against his ear. "Love knowing you're this good. You wouldn't be out here if you didn't."

Kid's good hand worked against Hiruma's shoulder. "Just want to be with friends," he protested, husky.

"Then fight, damn it!" Hiruma's fingers coaxed him and Hiruma's voice shook him. "With us, for us, against us, it doesn't fucking matter! That's what we're all out here for!" His mouth pressed against Kid's throat, hot and wet. "All you have to do is want it hard enough and never fucking stop."

"It hurts," Kid whispered, head tilted back against the wall, eyes shut hard.

Hiruma's hand tightened, stroked firmly, making heat climb Kid's nerves. His voice was low. "That's the only way to make it as good as it can be."

Kid groaned and hauled his arm out of the sling, pulling Hiruma tight against him. He could feel him laughing as he caught Hiruma's mouth and kissed him back and pleasure wrung him out until the world wavered in front of his eyes.

The first thing he said, when he recovered enough breath, was, "Ow."

Hiruma was still laughing against his neck. "Yeah, well." He pushed away and rapped Kid lightly on the chest. "You ever want someone to play with, remember I'm here."

A helpless laugh shook Kid, and he pulled Hiruma back for another kiss, never mind the twinges.

Maybe he'd see how good it could get.

End

Reach and Grasp

Shin and Sena have a roll in the grass, both literally and figuratively. Written for Porn Battle, with the prompts: Shin/Sena - the smell of fresh grass and Shin/Sena, size differences. Porn with Fluff, I-4

"Ooof!"

Sena huffed the heavy scent of the grass out of his nose and smiled wryly. Shin-san was more careful when they were just playing around with no padding, but getting tackled was still getting tackled.

"If you cut inside my line, you need to make it tighter," Shin-san said in his ear. "Otherwise you're at just the right distance to catch."

And Shin-san was never really just playing.

Sena nodded, still a shade breathless. "Yes, I see." And then Shin-san's hand started to slide away from his chest and he got a lot more breathless. There really was a difference, without their full uniforms, and he couldn't help squirming just a little, under the weight of Shin-san's body.

Shin-san paused. "Sena?" His hand stopped and spread out against Sena's stomach. "Do you want me to?"

Sena blushed hotly. Shin-san just out and said things like that! Sena cleared his throat and murmured, "Um. Yes?"

Shin-san also didn't waste time and Sena gasped as warm fingers undid his pants and slid them down. The short grass tickled his bare skin, but only until Shin-san's hand moved in. Sena pushed back into Shin-san's body and spread his knees wider, hot with the feeling of that large, powerful hand between his legs. "Mmm. Shin-san."

Shin-san nibbled on his ear and Sena laughed. Any way Shin-san touched him felt good, but it was the little things like that, the ones that were actually playful, that made him happiest. And when Shin-san's whole body covered him and strong fingers wrapped around his cock, it made heat shiver down Sena's spine. Feeling Shin-san's hips grind against his rear, and Shin-san's cock sliding between his cheeks, Sena finally moaned out loud. "Shin-san... the bags. Are they close enough...?"

Shin-san stretched out an arm and Sena was, right at this moment, really glad that Shin-san had such a long reach. "Yes." Shin-san's tongue ran up his neck one more time. "Hang on a minute."

Sena thought, a little light-headedly, that Shin-san was the one hanging on to him, even as he rummaged through the bags, but he wasn't quite far gone enough to say that out loud. When Shin-san's fingers worked into his ass, slow and slick, the words unraveled anyway, and Sena just panted for breath, hips flexing a little between those fingers and the strong hand between his legs. When Shin-san's fingers curved and pleasure spiked through him, Sena's reserve finally gave way.

"Nn, Shin-san, fuck me!" Later he would blush over that, but right now all he felt was Shin-san's hands and Shin-san's mouth against his neck, lips curving slightly.

"Okay."

The hand between his legs tightened, lifting his hips higher, and then Shin-san's cock was pushing into him and Sena just sprawled in the grass, moaning as it stretched and filled him. He gasped, breathless, as Shin-san slid out and back in, fucking him slowly; he loved the feeling of this, the hardness of Shin-san's body braced over his, the brush of Shin-san's chest against his back, the heavy heat of Shin-san's cock in his ass. Words tumbled out of his mouth, more and yes and good, and Shin-san drove into him deep and hard until hot pleasure wrung Sena out and left him panting.

Shin-san's slow, hard thrusts never hitched, and he fucked the tightness of Sena's body until Sena was limp and moaning under him. When Shin-san came, Sena only knew because of the way he gasped, the way his arms curled tight around Sena. Sena smiled and closed his arms over Shin-san's so he wouldn't pull away, and they lay in the warm grass like that for a while.

Sena couldn't imagine getting a whole lot more content than he was right now.

He did kind of hope that he didn't play Shin-san on turf, this year, because he had a bad feeling that going down nose-first into the smell of cut grass would cause some embarrassing reactions after today.

When Shin-san's mouth brushed the nape of his neck, though, he decided it would be worth it.

End

Remember and Forget

Post-series (probably) Juumonji considers the fix he's gotten himself into. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Eyeshield 21, Juumonji/Sena, protective. Character Sketch with Porn, I-3

It was ridiculous. It was absurd. Six months on the same team, no matter what kind of hell they'd gone through together, should not be able to wash away over two years of bullying. But there it was.

He'd gotten used to protecting Sena.

He stepped out on the field, for his own pride and anger and future, and he put his body and bones on the line to guard, well, the quarterback, yeah, but mostly Sena. Because Hiruma could take being downed and Sena...

Okay, Sena could take it too. Sena's back was still slim, under his hands, but it was hard these days, solid with the muscle that let him be tackled by Banba and Yamato and Shin fucking Seijuurou and still stand back up and run again.

But it was his job to protect Sena.

So, yeah, maybe it was ridiculous that he was so careful, drawing Sena against him, that he tried to be gentle when he kissed Sena. But he couldn't help it!

Sena was good at getting him to forget that, though.

"Mmmm, Kazuki... Kazuki, more..."

Sena's eyes were hazy and dark, and the arch of him under Kazuki was abandoned. When Sena lost himself, when he forgot politeness and titles and diffidence, he was the most amazing thing Kazuki had ever seen, and he lifted Sena up, thrusting into him deeper. The tight heat of Sena's body around him made him moan.

"Fuck, Sena..."

Sena smiled up at him, innocent and sweet and wanton. "Yes."

Kazuki gasped and his hips drove forward, fucking Sena hard, and Sena's open moan as his body wrung tight sent a shudder down Kazuki's spine and it didn't stop there. Pleasure rushed out, tingling in his fingers and toes, pulsing with every beat of his heart, and his heart was pounding. Sena sighed, head laid back, and Kazuki's hands tightened fiercely on his ass.

He really, really couldn't help it, though, when they settled back down against the bed and he wrapped his arms around Sena carefully, protectively, even if it did make Sena laugh a little.

He didn't mind as much that it made Sena cuddle into his chest, and he buried his face in Sena's hair with a gruff sound. It was absolutely ridiculous.

He wasn't going to let go.

End