[Uraboku]:: Hotsuma/Shusei Someone Like You.
Title: Someone Like You.
Pairing: Hotsuma Renjou/Shusei Usui
Rating/Contains/Word count: R/blow job/2,104
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Uraboku (The Betrayal Knows My Name)
Summary: In which Hotsuma acts without thinking, overreacts, and is given what he wants.
Notes: Please let me know your thoughts/constructive crit/comments.
The hallways were clear of students, the late afternoon sunshine caused shadows to stretch long and distorted. Hotsuma turned down the second year corridor in search of Shusei. His partner had stayed after for a disciplinary committee meeting. Hotsuma had managed to entertain himself for the meeting, but now he wanted to speak to his partner. He lengthened his stride, speeding up without appearing eager, when he heard Shusei's voice.
Hotsuma turned the corner and stopped suddenly. Shusei was speaking with a club member. Hotsuma watched, noting the slight smile on Shusei's face, the other boy's words low and even. Shusei's attention never wavered from the club member, but the slight curve of Shusei's shoulders communicated that his partner was aware of Hotsuma's presence. Hotsuma gave them space--his eyes narrowing slightly when the club member reached for Shusei, fingers brushing along his arm. The club member walked off afterward, leaving Hotsuma and Shusei alone.
"Hotsuma," a small, private smile graced Shusei's face. One reserved for just Hotsuma.
The smile, however, barely registered for Hotsuma. The club member's touch played over and over in his mind. It only took an instant to trap Shusei against the lockers. Hotsuma pinned the older boy's wrists to the surface with one hand. His other hand fumbled with the buttons of Shusei's shirt.
"What are you doing?" Shusei didn't struggle, his voice breathy.
Hotsuma didn't respond at first, closing the small distance between them. He ducked his head to the crook of Shusei's neck, lips brushing against the curve of the other boy's neck. The brush of lips moved lower, dipping under the open collar of Shusei's shirt. Hotsuma made a low sound in the back of his throat when his lips touched the scar tissue.
The stark difference in the texture, between the soft skin of Shusei's neck to the hard, almost hardened feeling of the scar tissue was intoxicating. Hotsuma licked, tasting the salt of Shusei's skin along with the bitter remains of cologne.
The sounds that came from Shusei urged him on. Hotsuma licked and tasted, teeth scraping lightly over a scar. He felt Shusei slump against the lockers, wrists relaxing in Hotsuma's hold. "How could you let someone touch you like that?" Hotsuma's voice was low and rough. Shusei relaxed more against him, shifting against the lockers, legs braced apart.
"It didn't mean anything." Shusei's words were strained. "Your touch is the only one that I want."
Hotsuma didn't reply to Shusei, rather, he nibbled along one raised scar. One leg worked between Shusei's, his knee pressing up between the other boy's. Shusei's groan went through Hotsuma, his own breath catching. Hotsuma moaned low in his throat, hand tightening on Shusei's wrists. His knee pressed up against Shusei who moved against it.
Shusei's moans ruffled Hotsuma's hair, quiet sounds coming from the other boy. Shusei's hands twisted in Hotsuma's hold, fingers lacing together. Hotsuma continued to press up with his knee, looking up from Shusei's chest watching the other boy move against his leg. Shusei's head tipped back, the other boy's eyes closed, lips parted as he panted softly. Hotsuma shivered as he watched Shusei moved against his knee, and came.
They stayed there for a few moments, pressed against the lockers. Shusei's face was buried in Hotsuma's neck, panting harshly. Hotsuma shivered, releasing his hold on Shusei's wrists, and moving away. Realization of what he had done slammed into him. Color rose on his cheeks, words spilled from his mouth--nonsensical and babbling incoherently.
Hotsuma turned on his heel, strode off quickly. Guilt and worry chased away an elation at how he had made Shusei react. He wanted to put as much distance between them as possible for the moment. He had wanted the other boy for some time now, and had attempted to push those feeling aside. Shusei was a partner, not someone to think those things about.
He managed to lose himself on the streets, getting caught up in the streams of people on the sidewalk. Hotsuma was caught up in his thoughts, mainly of Shusei, replaying over and over in his mind the way the other boy looked right as he came. Pavement gave way to soft ground, and Hotsuma found himself standing in the center of a playground. There were a few children playing tag, tearing around the structures laughing and yelling for each other. He sat on a swing, watching, but not really watching their play.
Guilt had settled low in his stomach. Hotsuma literally felt sick, he had pushed Shusei to that level, and enjoyed it. There was a part of him, a large part of him, that wanted to touch Shusei, and be with him. To touch and caress, kiss, claim, to have Shusei cry out for him--reciprocate the touch. To want no one but Hotsuma. He hadn't taken into consideration Shusei's thoughts, his feelings-- and the thought that Hotsuma might have hurt Shusei made his stomach sink even further.
The swing creaked as Hotsuma shifted his weight. He dug his shoes into the dirt, scraping deep furrows into the ground. In his bag, he could hear his cell phone vibrating nearly non-stop. Figuring it was Shusei, and having no explanation for his actions, Hotsuma ignored it. Darkness crept up around him as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. It was nearly midnight before he shook himself from the swing and headed back to their home.
He crept through the front room, which thankfully, was abandoned. On the way home, he had a wild, hopeful thought that Shusei would be up waiting for him. He wouldn't have minded the anger, he would have welcomed it. Then maybe, just maybe, he could have said the words that were in the back of his mind, nearly constantly on the tip of his tongue, only to be swallowed down before the could be said.
Hotsuma climbed the stairs, fingers loosing the knot in his tie. He frowned slightly, when he found that his bedroom door partially open. He pushed the door open further, pausing when he saw Shusei on his bed, asleep. Hotsuma closed the door behind him, set his backpack on the desk and curled up in the armchair by the window. He watched Shusei, mentally willing the other boy to wake up.
"How long are you going to sit there?" Shusei spoke, breaking the silence. Hotsuma blinked, startled. "Where were you? I was worried."
Hotsuma shrugged, though he didn't move from the chair. "I-I…" For once in his life he couldn't find anything to say.
"It's okay. It's okay because it's you." Shusei's voice was quiet. Hotsuma raised his gaze, looking at the other boy. "It felt good. I wanted it." Shusei sat up in Hotsuma's bed, the blankets pooling in his lap. "You didn't give me a chance to say anything." There was a curious smile on the other boy's face. "Come here, Hotsuma, come to bed." Shusei held his hand out to Hotsuma, delicate fingers beckoning him closer.
It took a few moments for his body to catch up with the signals his brain was sending. Hotsuma got up out of the chair, and took a few shuffling steps closer to the bed. He sat stiffly at the edge, and looked at the floor rather than Shusei. To his horror he could feel color rising on his face, warmth going through his body.
"Shusei…" The ability to form higher thought failed him for the second time that day when Shusei's fingers brushed along the nape of his neck. Hotsuma shivered, let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. He allowed Shusei to pull him down with gentle firmness, and stretched out on the bed next to the other boy. Hotsuma was tense, reminding himself to breath.
"Relax," came the gentle command. Shusei's lips brushed against Hotsuma's jaw, and he clutched at the blankets. Shusei's kisses rained down on Hotsuma's neck, across his jaw, the sharp pinch of teeth on his lower lip, feather light touches of lips to his cheeks, his eyelids, his temples. Hotsuma reached out, fingers threading through Shusei's hair. The bed shifted slightly as Shusei moved, braced over Hotsuma. "You know how I feel about you." Warm touches trailed over Hotsuma's neck, fingers working at the buttons of his school uniform shirt.
"I know you feel the same." There was a pause, Shusei peering down at him. "You really need to work on communicating better." A soft chuckle as he dipped his head, Hotsuma's rebuke dying in his throat when Shusei's tongue traced along a collar bone. Another soft laugh in response to Hotsuma's strangled response.
Hotsuma glared, or tried to when Shusei laughed again. Instead, he tipped his head back, body arching under the other boy's. His legs fell open, body rising to meet the touches Shusei was so intent on giving. He trembled slightly, feeling his breath hitch again, when those delicate fingers worked on the button and zipper of Hotsuma's pants. He lifted his hips at the insistent tug of the fabric, Shusei's warm breath brushing against Hotsuma's lower abdomen.
There was an instant where Hotsuma felt too exposed, too rushed, just as Shusei pulled his boxers down. The light touches continued, brushing along Hotsuma's length. He bit his lower lip, when Shusei's hand was replaced with the tight heat of the other man's mouth. He had thought about Shusei like this, jerked off to mental images of the other boy taking him in his mouth, but the actual feeling was overwhelmingly good. Hotsuma bit at the heel of his palm, in an attempt to keep the noises coming from him. Soft, needy, desperate sounds fell from his mouth. He managed to open his eyes, watching as Shusei's head bobbed slowly between Hotsuma's legs.
Soft hair slid between Hotsuma's fingers, as he petted Shusei. Tension eased from his body, and the fear of being caught slowly evaporated. It was well past midnight, and everyone was asleep. Slick wet sounds filled the room, Shusei doubling his efforts, Hotsuma screwing up all of his self control not to roll his hips up and thrust into that tight, wet heat. Shusei's fingers teased up and down Hotsuma's thighs, fingers dipping between his legs, one finger pressing just up, the slightest pressure.
It was then the world exploded in a shower of white hot sparks behind Hotsuma's closed eyes. He came, a cry coming from him. He could feel Shusei swallow, the other boy licking him clean. Hotsuma slumped against the mattress, hand tangled in Shusei's hair, breathing harsh and ragged. Each of Shusei's kisses sent shock waves through his body, the press of the other boy's body against his own almost too much. Hotsuma clung to Shusei, moaning softly when Shusei pressed against him tightly, holding him. He could hear Shusei's heart pounding just as frantically as his own. Shusei's lips moved against his hair, Hotsuma vaguely aware of what was being said.
Quiet settled between them, Hotsuma pulling one of the blankets that had slid off the bed up and over both of them. Shusei had curled up next to him, head on Hotsuma's chest. Hotsuma settled under the blankets, giving in to sleep, finally feeling secure and safe, with the want to keep Shusei safe as well always in the back of his mind. He dropped off to sleep, content to have his partner next to him.
Hotsuma woke slowly, to the sensation of someone petting his hair. He opened one eye blearily, and looked up at Shusei, who was already showered and dressed. "Breakfast is almost ready. Get up." With that, Shusei pulled away and left Hotsuma's room. Hotsuma burrowed further under the blankets, bundled up in the sheets that smelled of both him and Shusei. He stuck a foot out from under the blankets experimentally, and shivered. Resigning himself to his fate, he got up, and stumbled to the shower to get cleaned up. He pulled on a fresh school uniform and went downstairs to where the others had gathered for breakfast.
He plopped into his chair, snagged a piece of toast from the towering stack in the center of the table. One corner shoved in his mouth, he chewed, while managing to pour orange juice into his glass. He glanced at Shusei's empty glass, and filled his from the pitcher as well. Hotsuma sat back, watching as the others bickered playfully, almost getting drawn in to it. The gentlest brush of fingers against his own quieted his retort. Hotsuma deliberately didn't look at Shusei, focusing only on his toast, fingers entwined with his partner's under the table.
Pairing: Hotsuma Renjou/Shusei Usui
Rating/Contains/Word count: R/blow job/2,104
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Uraboku (The Betrayal Knows My Name)
Summary: In which Hotsuma acts without thinking, overreacts, and is given what he wants.
Notes: Please let me know your thoughts/constructive crit/comments.
The hallways were clear of students, the late afternoon sunshine caused shadows to stretch long and distorted. Hotsuma turned down the second year corridor in search of Shusei. His partner had stayed after for a disciplinary committee meeting. Hotsuma had managed to entertain himself for the meeting, but now he wanted to speak to his partner. He lengthened his stride, speeding up without appearing eager, when he heard Shusei's voice.
Hotsuma turned the corner and stopped suddenly. Shusei was speaking with a club member. Hotsuma watched, noting the slight smile on Shusei's face, the other boy's words low and even. Shusei's attention never wavered from the club member, but the slight curve of Shusei's shoulders communicated that his partner was aware of Hotsuma's presence. Hotsuma gave them space--his eyes narrowing slightly when the club member reached for Shusei, fingers brushing along his arm. The club member walked off afterward, leaving Hotsuma and Shusei alone.
"Hotsuma," a small, private smile graced Shusei's face. One reserved for just Hotsuma.
The smile, however, barely registered for Hotsuma. The club member's touch played over and over in his mind. It only took an instant to trap Shusei against the lockers. Hotsuma pinned the older boy's wrists to the surface with one hand. His other hand fumbled with the buttons of Shusei's shirt.
"What are you doing?" Shusei didn't struggle, his voice breathy.
Hotsuma didn't respond at first, closing the small distance between them. He ducked his head to the crook of Shusei's neck, lips brushing against the curve of the other boy's neck. The brush of lips moved lower, dipping under the open collar of Shusei's shirt. Hotsuma made a low sound in the back of his throat when his lips touched the scar tissue.
The stark difference in the texture, between the soft skin of Shusei's neck to the hard, almost hardened feeling of the scar tissue was intoxicating. Hotsuma licked, tasting the salt of Shusei's skin along with the bitter remains of cologne.
The sounds that came from Shusei urged him on. Hotsuma licked and tasted, teeth scraping lightly over a scar. He felt Shusei slump against the lockers, wrists relaxing in Hotsuma's hold. "How could you let someone touch you like that?" Hotsuma's voice was low and rough. Shusei relaxed more against him, shifting against the lockers, legs braced apart.
"It didn't mean anything." Shusei's words were strained. "Your touch is the only one that I want."
Hotsuma didn't reply to Shusei, rather, he nibbled along one raised scar. One leg worked between Shusei's, his knee pressing up between the other boy's. Shusei's groan went through Hotsuma, his own breath catching. Hotsuma moaned low in his throat, hand tightening on Shusei's wrists. His knee pressed up against Shusei who moved against it.
Shusei's moans ruffled Hotsuma's hair, quiet sounds coming from the other boy. Shusei's hands twisted in Hotsuma's hold, fingers lacing together. Hotsuma continued to press up with his knee, looking up from Shusei's chest watching the other boy move against his leg. Shusei's head tipped back, the other boy's eyes closed, lips parted as he panted softly. Hotsuma shivered as he watched Shusei moved against his knee, and came.
They stayed there for a few moments, pressed against the lockers. Shusei's face was buried in Hotsuma's neck, panting harshly. Hotsuma shivered, releasing his hold on Shusei's wrists, and moving away. Realization of what he had done slammed into him. Color rose on his cheeks, words spilled from his mouth--nonsensical and babbling incoherently.
Hotsuma turned on his heel, strode off quickly. Guilt and worry chased away an elation at how he had made Shusei react. He wanted to put as much distance between them as possible for the moment. He had wanted the other boy for some time now, and had attempted to push those feeling aside. Shusei was a partner, not someone to think those things about.
He managed to lose himself on the streets, getting caught up in the streams of people on the sidewalk. Hotsuma was caught up in his thoughts, mainly of Shusei, replaying over and over in his mind the way the other boy looked right as he came. Pavement gave way to soft ground, and Hotsuma found himself standing in the center of a playground. There were a few children playing tag, tearing around the structures laughing and yelling for each other. He sat on a swing, watching, but not really watching their play.
Guilt had settled low in his stomach. Hotsuma literally felt sick, he had pushed Shusei to that level, and enjoyed it. There was a part of him, a large part of him, that wanted to touch Shusei, and be with him. To touch and caress, kiss, claim, to have Shusei cry out for him--reciprocate the touch. To want no one but Hotsuma. He hadn't taken into consideration Shusei's thoughts, his feelings-- and the thought that Hotsuma might have hurt Shusei made his stomach sink even further.
The swing creaked as Hotsuma shifted his weight. He dug his shoes into the dirt, scraping deep furrows into the ground. In his bag, he could hear his cell phone vibrating nearly non-stop. Figuring it was Shusei, and having no explanation for his actions, Hotsuma ignored it. Darkness crept up around him as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. It was nearly midnight before he shook himself from the swing and headed back to their home.
He crept through the front room, which thankfully, was abandoned. On the way home, he had a wild, hopeful thought that Shusei would be up waiting for him. He wouldn't have minded the anger, he would have welcomed it. Then maybe, just maybe, he could have said the words that were in the back of his mind, nearly constantly on the tip of his tongue, only to be swallowed down before the could be said.
Hotsuma climbed the stairs, fingers loosing the knot in his tie. He frowned slightly, when he found that his bedroom door partially open. He pushed the door open further, pausing when he saw Shusei on his bed, asleep. Hotsuma closed the door behind him, set his backpack on the desk and curled up in the armchair by the window. He watched Shusei, mentally willing the other boy to wake up.
"How long are you going to sit there?" Shusei spoke, breaking the silence. Hotsuma blinked, startled. "Where were you? I was worried."
Hotsuma shrugged, though he didn't move from the chair. "I-I…" For once in his life he couldn't find anything to say.
"It's okay. It's okay because it's you." Shusei's voice was quiet. Hotsuma raised his gaze, looking at the other boy. "It felt good. I wanted it." Shusei sat up in Hotsuma's bed, the blankets pooling in his lap. "You didn't give me a chance to say anything." There was a curious smile on the other boy's face. "Come here, Hotsuma, come to bed." Shusei held his hand out to Hotsuma, delicate fingers beckoning him closer.
It took a few moments for his body to catch up with the signals his brain was sending. Hotsuma got up out of the chair, and took a few shuffling steps closer to the bed. He sat stiffly at the edge, and looked at the floor rather than Shusei. To his horror he could feel color rising on his face, warmth going through his body.
"Shusei…" The ability to form higher thought failed him for the second time that day when Shusei's fingers brushed along the nape of his neck. Hotsuma shivered, let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. He allowed Shusei to pull him down with gentle firmness, and stretched out on the bed next to the other boy. Hotsuma was tense, reminding himself to breath.
"Relax," came the gentle command. Shusei's lips brushed against Hotsuma's jaw, and he clutched at the blankets. Shusei's kisses rained down on Hotsuma's neck, across his jaw, the sharp pinch of teeth on his lower lip, feather light touches of lips to his cheeks, his eyelids, his temples. Hotsuma reached out, fingers threading through Shusei's hair. The bed shifted slightly as Shusei moved, braced over Hotsuma. "You know how I feel about you." Warm touches trailed over Hotsuma's neck, fingers working at the buttons of his school uniform shirt.
"I know you feel the same." There was a pause, Shusei peering down at him. "You really need to work on communicating better." A soft chuckle as he dipped his head, Hotsuma's rebuke dying in his throat when Shusei's tongue traced along a collar bone. Another soft laugh in response to Hotsuma's strangled response.
Hotsuma glared, or tried to when Shusei laughed again. Instead, he tipped his head back, body arching under the other boy's. His legs fell open, body rising to meet the touches Shusei was so intent on giving. He trembled slightly, feeling his breath hitch again, when those delicate fingers worked on the button and zipper of Hotsuma's pants. He lifted his hips at the insistent tug of the fabric, Shusei's warm breath brushing against Hotsuma's lower abdomen.
There was an instant where Hotsuma felt too exposed, too rushed, just as Shusei pulled his boxers down. The light touches continued, brushing along Hotsuma's length. He bit his lower lip, when Shusei's hand was replaced with the tight heat of the other man's mouth. He had thought about Shusei like this, jerked off to mental images of the other boy taking him in his mouth, but the actual feeling was overwhelmingly good. Hotsuma bit at the heel of his palm, in an attempt to keep the noises coming from him. Soft, needy, desperate sounds fell from his mouth. He managed to open his eyes, watching as Shusei's head bobbed slowly between Hotsuma's legs.
Soft hair slid between Hotsuma's fingers, as he petted Shusei. Tension eased from his body, and the fear of being caught slowly evaporated. It was well past midnight, and everyone was asleep. Slick wet sounds filled the room, Shusei doubling his efforts, Hotsuma screwing up all of his self control not to roll his hips up and thrust into that tight, wet heat. Shusei's fingers teased up and down Hotsuma's thighs, fingers dipping between his legs, one finger pressing just up, the slightest pressure.
It was then the world exploded in a shower of white hot sparks behind Hotsuma's closed eyes. He came, a cry coming from him. He could feel Shusei swallow, the other boy licking him clean. Hotsuma slumped against the mattress, hand tangled in Shusei's hair, breathing harsh and ragged. Each of Shusei's kisses sent shock waves through his body, the press of the other boy's body against his own almost too much. Hotsuma clung to Shusei, moaning softly when Shusei pressed against him tightly, holding him. He could hear Shusei's heart pounding just as frantically as his own. Shusei's lips moved against his hair, Hotsuma vaguely aware of what was being said.
Quiet settled between them, Hotsuma pulling one of the blankets that had slid off the bed up and over both of them. Shusei had curled up next to him, head on Hotsuma's chest. Hotsuma settled under the blankets, giving in to sleep, finally feeling secure and safe, with the want to keep Shusei safe as well always in the back of his mind. He dropped off to sleep, content to have his partner next to him.
Hotsuma woke slowly, to the sensation of someone petting his hair. He opened one eye blearily, and looked up at Shusei, who was already showered and dressed. "Breakfast is almost ready. Get up." With that, Shusei pulled away and left Hotsuma's room. Hotsuma burrowed further under the blankets, bundled up in the sheets that smelled of both him and Shusei. He stuck a foot out from under the blankets experimentally, and shivered. Resigning himself to his fate, he got up, and stumbled to the shower to get cleaned up. He pulled on a fresh school uniform and went downstairs to where the others had gathered for breakfast.
He plopped into his chair, snagged a piece of toast from the towering stack in the center of the table. One corner shoved in his mouth, he chewed, while managing to pour orange juice into his glass. He glanced at Shusei's empty glass, and filled his from the pitcher as well. Hotsuma sat back, watching as the others bickered playfully, almost getting drawn in to it. The gentlest brush of fingers against his own quieted his retort. Hotsuma deliberately didn't look at Shusei, focusing only on his toast, fingers entwined with his partner's under the table.