[PoT]:: Oshitari x Atobe Mistletoe and Holly.
Title: Mistletoe and Holly.
Pairing: Oshitari Yuushi x Atobe Keigo.
Rating/Contains/Word count: Pg/kiss, mention of alcohol/ 631
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konomi Takeshi.
Summary: Oshitari lends Atobe a hand while decorating for a party.
Notes: for the citrus_taste mini-challenge. I did age up the boys to high school age.
"What," Atobe pointed at the bundle of green foliage in Oshitari's hand, "is that?"
Oshitari's shirt rode up as he rose on his tip toes to attach the ends of a red ribbon to the top of the door frame with a tack. "For someone who throws such lavish parties, you hardly have a sense of tradition."
Atobe tore his eyes away from the strip of skin at the waistband of Oshitari's pants. "That doesn't answer my question."
"I heard Gakuto raided his father's alcohol cabinet. I'd watch the punch if I were you."
"Oshitari."
"Atobe."
The lazy, unaffected drawl grated on Atobe's last nerve. He had spent weeks organizing the party, and Oshitari with his wilted bunch of god-knows-what kind of green vegetation had caused something to snap.
"If you don't tell me what that monstrosity is, I'll tell your mother where you hide your porn." Drastic times called for drastic measures. Plus, all one had to do was walk into Oshitari's room and know that the place was inundated with filthy videos.
"She alphabetized it for me last weekend." Oshitari replied with a smirk. His hands smoothed down the front of his shirt, Atobe was drawn to the movement.
The contrast between Oshitari's skin and the crisp white cotton made another part of Atobe pay attention. Thoughts stirred in Atobe's mind-- and surprisingly few of them included actually harming the other boy for that last remark. He could however, come up with other, more enjoyable ways for Oshitari to use his mouth.
The clatter of metal against wood flooring snapped Atobe back to the present. Oshitari had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, and guilty. In one smooth motion, Oshitari snatched up a silver flask, tucking it securely into his pocket once more.
"I thought Gakuto was the one spiking the punch."
Atobe closed the space between them, standing toe to toe with the other boy. Oshitari looked down at him, a politely bored expression on his face, though his eyes were dark and alert.
"I said watch the punch. Knowing Gakuto he'll sneak off with someone and drink it before he even gets near the punch bowl."
Shivers slid down Atobe's back; heat radiated between them, the faint heady scent of Oshitari's cologne enticed him closer. Atobe's heart pounded painfully against his ribs. Soft, nervous laughter spilled from his mouth at the feeling of Oshitari's sock covered toes wiggling against Atobe's bare feet.
"You wanted to know what that is?" Oshitari pointed up.
Atobe shrugged. "I only wanted to know why you were disrupting the other decorations. I don't particularly care about a bouquet of weeds."
"It's mistletoe."
Atobe looked up immediately, eyeing the plant. Realization spiraled low in his stomach and spread through him. He took a hasty, shuffling step backward, only to be stopped by Oshitari's hand around his wrist.
"You can't do that."
Oshitari tugged him close. Atobe crashed against him, squawking indignantly. A light touch urged Atobe to tip his chin up.
A dry brush of lips ghosted against his cheek; Oshitari's exhalation brushing over Atobe's skin. The fingers that were splayed along Atobe's jaw trembled. He turned his head slightly- a trick he would have expected Oshitari to carry out- their lips met.
It was with that kiss, the feeling of Oshitari's breath hitching against his chest and his soft sound of surprise, that Atobe felt something spark inside of him. He wanted more, needed more, and that need was fueled by the way Oshitari ducked his gaze, pale blush spreading across the taller boy's cheeks as they separated.
Oshitari brushed past him, muttering something about sneaking cookies from the kitchen. Atobe watched the hasty retreat, fingers smoothing over his bottom lip. Perhaps the bundle of weeds wasn't a bad idea after all.
*********
A/N: Thanks to the second pair of eyes, and the quick beta, Miss A. I took a rather literal approach to this prompt, but I think it works. Let me know what you think.
Pairing: Oshitari Yuushi x Atobe Keigo.
Rating/Contains/Word count: Pg/kiss, mention of alcohol/ 631
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konomi Takeshi.
Summary: Oshitari lends Atobe a hand while decorating for a party.
Notes: for the citrus_taste mini-challenge. I did age up the boys to high school age.
"What," Atobe pointed at the bundle of green foliage in Oshitari's hand, "is that?"
Oshitari's shirt rode up as he rose on his tip toes to attach the ends of a red ribbon to the top of the door frame with a tack. "For someone who throws such lavish parties, you hardly have a sense of tradition."
Atobe tore his eyes away from the strip of skin at the waistband of Oshitari's pants. "That doesn't answer my question."
"I heard Gakuto raided his father's alcohol cabinet. I'd watch the punch if I were you."
"Oshitari."
"Atobe."
The lazy, unaffected drawl grated on Atobe's last nerve. He had spent weeks organizing the party, and Oshitari with his wilted bunch of god-knows-what kind of green vegetation had caused something to snap.
"If you don't tell me what that monstrosity is, I'll tell your mother where you hide your porn." Drastic times called for drastic measures. Plus, all one had to do was walk into Oshitari's room and know that the place was inundated with filthy videos.
"She alphabetized it for me last weekend." Oshitari replied with a smirk. His hands smoothed down the front of his shirt, Atobe was drawn to the movement.
The contrast between Oshitari's skin and the crisp white cotton made another part of Atobe pay attention. Thoughts stirred in Atobe's mind-- and surprisingly few of them included actually harming the other boy for that last remark. He could however, come up with other, more enjoyable ways for Oshitari to use his mouth.
The clatter of metal against wood flooring snapped Atobe back to the present. Oshitari had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, and guilty. In one smooth motion, Oshitari snatched up a silver flask, tucking it securely into his pocket once more.
"I thought Gakuto was the one spiking the punch."
Atobe closed the space between them, standing toe to toe with the other boy. Oshitari looked down at him, a politely bored expression on his face, though his eyes were dark and alert.
"I said watch the punch. Knowing Gakuto he'll sneak off with someone and drink it before he even gets near the punch bowl."
Shivers slid down Atobe's back; heat radiated between them, the faint heady scent of Oshitari's cologne enticed him closer. Atobe's heart pounded painfully against his ribs. Soft, nervous laughter spilled from his mouth at the feeling of Oshitari's sock covered toes wiggling against Atobe's bare feet.
"You wanted to know what that is?" Oshitari pointed up.
Atobe shrugged. "I only wanted to know why you were disrupting the other decorations. I don't particularly care about a bouquet of weeds."
"It's mistletoe."
Atobe looked up immediately, eyeing the plant. Realization spiraled low in his stomach and spread through him. He took a hasty, shuffling step backward, only to be stopped by Oshitari's hand around his wrist.
"You can't do that."
Oshitari tugged him close. Atobe crashed against him, squawking indignantly. A light touch urged Atobe to tip his chin up.
A dry brush of lips ghosted against his cheek; Oshitari's exhalation brushing over Atobe's skin. The fingers that were splayed along Atobe's jaw trembled. He turned his head slightly- a trick he would have expected Oshitari to carry out- their lips met.
It was with that kiss, the feeling of Oshitari's breath hitching against his chest and his soft sound of surprise, that Atobe felt something spark inside of him. He wanted more, needed more, and that need was fueled by the way Oshitari ducked his gaze, pale blush spreading across the taller boy's cheeks as they separated.
Oshitari brushed past him, muttering something about sneaking cookies from the kitchen. Atobe watched the hasty retreat, fingers smoothing over his bottom lip. Perhaps the bundle of weeds wasn't a bad idea after all.
*********
A/N: Thanks to the second pair of eyes, and the quick beta, Miss A. I took a rather literal approach to this prompt, but I think it works. Let me know what you think.