shiegra (shiegra) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2008-07-01 22:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | a: shiegra, f: baccano!, july 01, p: chane/claire |
a fine view, Baccano! (Claire/Chane)
Title: a fine view
Author/Artist: shiegra
Rating: PG13/R
Prompt: Baccano! - Claire/Chane - romance – Everything spills, like wine
She finds it on the roof.
The stars spread above them like embroidery in the midnight-blue sky; she picks her way through the vents and skylights and finds the edge of the blanket instead, the soft glow of the neat red candles sliding warmly over the curve of the wineglasses. The wine isn’t poured, and the very traditional picnic basket has not yet been opened. The moment is poised, the air muted with the velvet hush of a sleeping city.
She bends to unlace her shoes, leaving her feet tender and bare, and steps toward the blanket. The rough bite of the ground makes her walk mincingly, heels lifted off the ground, and when he lands behind her in a whisper of movement she steps to the blanket before turning.
There is no blood on his white suit, something that flickers vague surprise—or simply interrupted déjà vu—through her.
He’s carrying a flower, a red dahlia that spreads a hundred small, precise petals from the center. She fumbles as she takes it, stem sliding through her fingers, and he takes her hand without a word, eyes bright with boyish exhilaration, and pulls her to the center of the blanket.
“It’s for you.” He says, with all the touching arrogance as if the world had created this spot, and this moment simply for her enjoyment. Chane brushes the dahlia over her lips and closes her eyes as he leans towards her, his warmth prickling over her skin.
He’s poured her wine when she opens them again, and flipped up the lid of the basket, glancing casually as though expecting to be surprised. “Oh, look!” He says.
She isn’t sure where he’s gotten fresh fruit in this season, but when she bites in the peach the juice spills down her chin. He pulls her down, sitting cross legged on the roof, and smiles at her, the sharply not-quite-angelic confidence that hovers around him like a cloud. She is surprised when he leans forward to kiss the liquid off her skin, finding her mouth with his eyes closed and his lips still curved in a smile, but not stunned or dismayed. Claire—tactile, vibrant Claire—doesn’t need a picnic or a beautiful view to drown her in sensations.
She knocks her wineglass over when she leans forward, and it pools sticky under her knees.