Camus/Miklotov - Wordless
I can't believe that it is March already. This is such shit. Oh well, here's a short fic of my favorite Suikoden pairing to write (I'm lame, I know).
Title: Wordless Comfort
Pairing: Camus/Miklotov (Suikoden II)
Rating: PG for adult situations
Warning: slight angst, spoilers
Disclaimer: I don't own Suikoden II or the characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.
Author's Note: 250 words. I'm going to pretend that the Knights medals that Camus and Miklotov wore could be hung around their necks. Takes place after certain events, which should be obvious from the text.
Miklotov and Camus stood behind the closed door of their room, backs against it. Miklotov's hands were clenched tightly, and only Camus could uncurl the hands that contained Miklotov's anger. His fingers slipped between Miklotov's fingers, so that Miklotov's fingers gripped Camus's hand tightly instead of his own. He pulled Miklotov towards him, letting Miklotov lean upon him. Miklotov's anger was like a fire; Camus could feel its heat through Miklotov's lips, which conducted his emotional state more powerfully than the slight shiver of Miklotov's frame, or the darkness of Miklotov's eyes.
He led Miklotov to the bed, somewhat roughly as Miklotov fumbled with Camus's jacket. Camus did away with Miklotov's once they were lying on the bed, legs entwined and hands everywhere. Jackets discarded, they didn't bother with the pants as Camus's fingers dug into Miklotov's neck, pressing into them. He began to mark where the Knight's medal once lay. Miklotov gasped when Camus bit at the skin where the medal usually touched.
A tear rolled down Miklotov's cheek, to his embarrassment. Miklotov's hands shifted uncontrollably, itching to wipe the tear away, but Camus moved first, capturing Miklotov's hands with his own and bringing them to his chest. He smiled sadly, his own eyes glistening as well with unshed tears. He waited for Miklotov's breathing to slow, for the heavy lids to close, before assuming his spot next to Miklotov on the bed. He felt Miklotov's arms wrap around him as they suffered through a night of restless sleep.
Title: Wordless Comfort
Pairing: Camus/Miklotov (Suikoden II)
Rating: PG for adult situations
Warning: slight angst, spoilers
Disclaimer: I don't own Suikoden II or the characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.
Author's Note: 250 words. I'm going to pretend that the Knights medals that Camus and Miklotov wore could be hung around their necks. Takes place after certain events, which should be obvious from the text.
Miklotov and Camus stood behind the closed door of their room, backs against it. Miklotov's hands were clenched tightly, and only Camus could uncurl the hands that contained Miklotov's anger. His fingers slipped between Miklotov's fingers, so that Miklotov's fingers gripped Camus's hand tightly instead of his own. He pulled Miklotov towards him, letting Miklotov lean upon him. Miklotov's anger was like a fire; Camus could feel its heat through Miklotov's lips, which conducted his emotional state more powerfully than the slight shiver of Miklotov's frame, or the darkness of Miklotov's eyes.
He led Miklotov to the bed, somewhat roughly as Miklotov fumbled with Camus's jacket. Camus did away with Miklotov's once they were lying on the bed, legs entwined and hands everywhere. Jackets discarded, they didn't bother with the pants as Camus's fingers dug into Miklotov's neck, pressing into them. He began to mark where the Knight's medal once lay. Miklotov gasped when Camus bit at the skin where the medal usually touched.
A tear rolled down Miklotov's cheek, to his embarrassment. Miklotov's hands shifted uncontrollably, itching to wipe the tear away, but Camus moved first, capturing Miklotov's hands with his own and bringing them to his chest. He smiled sadly, his own eyes glistening as well with unshed tears. He waited for Miklotov's breathing to slow, for the heavy lids to close, before assuming his spot next to Miklotov on the bed. He felt Miklotov's arms wrap around him as they suffered through a night of restless sleep.