macey_muse (macey_muse) wrote in siamese_quills, @ 2007-09-14 11:07:00 |
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Current mood: | amused |
Entry tags: | 500-1000, fic, hikago |
...I blame daisy-chan.
Title: Of Locker-Rooms and Lavender Boots
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Akira, Hikaru
Notes: The Soccer AU. Srsly.
Length: 734
Rating: Hard-R/NC-17
“Hey!” Startled, Akira swung around as a sweaty hand clasped his equally sweaty shoulder. “Just wanted to say you did really great out there; you’re going to fit right in with the team!”
Akira blushed. “Thank you.” Truthfully, his footwork had been a little sloppy on more than one run up, and he hadn’t been quite as accurate as he’d have liked during penalty practice. The last thing he’d expected was to be congratulated by the team’s star (and trouble-making) goalie, renowned for stopping even the most unstoppable of shots.
“No, really!” The goalie – Shindou, that was his name, Shindou Hikaru – followed Akira through the entrance to the echoingly empty changing rooms, voice muffled as he tugged his shirt over his head. “Not many people coulda pulled that last feint on me, yaknow.” His eyes were admiring. “M’sorry about earlier – it wasn’t anything directed at you, but I guess it’s hard to tell? Those extra laps’ve put me in my place, anyway!” He laughed, a little sheepishly.
“I – it’s okay, really. I think Morishita-san came down a little harshly, to be honest. He probably wanted the team to make a good impression.”
“Because of your father.” Shindou’s voice was knowing and Akira turned, startled, his shirt tangled about one arm. “S’okay, it’s not common knowledge or anything. But Morishita-sensei’s been coaching me for a long time, and he’s always urging us to do our best against anyone trained by ‘Touya-san’. I just matched up names.”
“Still. I don’t want special treatment; I refused to play on father’s team for a reason!” Akira huffed angrily, throwing down the errant clothing a bit more violently than deserved.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay – Akira, may I call you that?” Shindou was walking towards him, worry evident in his outstretched hand, “I wouldn’t hold your family against you.” Akira’s body was stiff, anger still present in the lines of his neck. Shindou chased a bead of sweat down the tendons with a finger.
Akira startled. “What -”
Shindou grinned. “I find a little making out cures most ills. Wanna?”
“How, why…” He squirmed, turning to face the other player fully.
“Akira.” That voice – rich with laughter, as well as something… darker. “Akira, Akira. Your boots are lavender.”
With that non-sequitur, he joined his lips with his finger in exploring the sweat-salted skin of Akira’s shoulder.
“Shindou-san!” If Akira was breathless, it was entirely not his fault – warm moisture was tracing and soothing muscles, sparking nerves into action with every lathe.
“So formal,” Shindou chuckled against him, breath huffing over sensitized skin, then bit lightly, reaching up to catch Akira’s gasp with his lips.
Soon, they were panting into each other’s mouths, hands brushing chests and backs as tongues danced. A gentle nail across his nipple had Akira leaning against the lockers, sliding down cool metal pressed tight against the furnace in front of him. Shindou slid with him, knees against the cold white tile and fingers twisted in the tented material of Akira’s shorts. His eyes were bright with mischief and promise; Akira let his close, fluttering, as the clothing joined his discarded shirt on the floor.
Then it was heat, and warmth, gentle suction against a fiercely-moving hand until Akira had to open his eyes, had to see - and it was the sight that proved to be his undoing, flicks of reddened flesh beneath bleached blonde hair and such green, green eyes –
Shuddering, his head tilted back to meet the locker as Shindou pulled off, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before surging up to catch Akira in an open-mouthed kiss, his other hand disappearing within his own clothing. Akira licked, tentative, absorbing the new flavour. With a sense of fair play, he reached out to help only to find Shindou spurting his relief within seconds.
Blushing, Akira wiped his hand on the already soiled shorts as Shindou slumped onto the bench beside him.
“Well.” His smile was quieter now, gently teasing rather than boisterous. “D’you feel better, now?” and the grin was back, “Because I know I do.”
That really wouldn’t do. “…maybe.” Akira flashed a stealthy smile of his own, sliding off his socks and leaving Shindou sat, open-mouthed. “And maybe you’ll have to try a little… harder.” With that, he stepped into the showers, buck naked except for that challenging smile.
And Hikaru was never one to pass up a dare.