"[One-shot] The Price We Pay"
Fandom: Ookiku Furibatte
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: threesome, non-explicit sex, (short XD)
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine.
For my wonderful Erisabesu who’s so forgiving on a veeeeeeeeery late birthday present. Cookies for you if you figured out who they are before the end.
The Price We Pay
Aborted whispers and choked moans fill the otherwise silent air. It is stuffy in here, this cramped room that is barely big enough for two, let alone three. Hands seem to be everywhere, frantic yet tender all at once.
It is getting harder and harder to catch my breath in this drowning of sensation, and I am not sure I want to try. They will catch me before I fall, these catchers mine, for I have learned that is what they do.
I didn’t believe them at first, not when he had left me before. Though to be fair, which my lovers would tell you I am too often, it was his leaving that sparked the realization that something was wrong. And without that, nothing would have changed.
I slip a hand behind his neck and desperately pour my fear into a kiss, hating that I was so close to losing him for good. Losing him to my predecessor. And with a sigh, he cups my face and gentles the kiss, one made to sooth and reassure. He is going nowhere. I can believe that, trust in him.
Arms wrap around me from behind to reassure, to remind. As if I could ever forget. I sink into the embrace, into those arms that know me so well. Arms that slip around my shoulders after a game, ones that tackle when playful, and arms that held me when I fell into a pit of despair when our other left.
I am starting to slip again into the shadows of despair, despite my best efforts, and it must show, for an irritated sigh in front and a chuckle from behind is all the warning I get.
Spikes of pleasure blossom like fireworks, the brightness of color scattering the shadows. With my mind clouded for a different reason now, all I can do is hang on with a tenuous grip.
And then, I let go.
Reality slowly reasserts itself. I see the dust motes first, glowing golden in the tiny shaft of early evening. The smell of old leather and grease pervades next, familiar and comforting. Sound and touch return together for a combination that is pleasing, arousing, and calming. We have collapsed on the floor in a tangle of sweat slicked limbs and knocked over bats, and there’s something sharp digging into my side. But at this moment I would not move for the world. For I am willing to steal every moment I can, and if the price we pay for it is forever storage closets or bathrooms, so be it.
Because to have Tajima clinging behind me, breath ghosting over my neck, and Abe in front, head under my chin, I would pay any price.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: threesome, non-explicit sex, (short XD)
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine.
For my wonderful Erisabesu who’s so forgiving on a veeeeeeeeery late birthday present. Cookies for you if you figured out who they are before the end.
The Price We Pay
Aborted whispers and choked moans fill the otherwise silent air. It is stuffy in here, this cramped room that is barely big enough for two, let alone three. Hands seem to be everywhere, frantic yet tender all at once.
It is getting harder and harder to catch my breath in this drowning of sensation, and I am not sure I want to try. They will catch me before I fall, these catchers mine, for I have learned that is what they do.
I didn’t believe them at first, not when he had left me before. Though to be fair, which my lovers would tell you I am too often, it was his leaving that sparked the realization that something was wrong. And without that, nothing would have changed.
I slip a hand behind his neck and desperately pour my fear into a kiss, hating that I was so close to losing him for good. Losing him to my predecessor. And with a sigh, he cups my face and gentles the kiss, one made to sooth and reassure. He is going nowhere. I can believe that, trust in him.
Arms wrap around me from behind to reassure, to remind. As if I could ever forget. I sink into the embrace, into those arms that know me so well. Arms that slip around my shoulders after a game, ones that tackle when playful, and arms that held me when I fell into a pit of despair when our other left.
I am starting to slip again into the shadows of despair, despite my best efforts, and it must show, for an irritated sigh in front and a chuckle from behind is all the warning I get.
Spikes of pleasure blossom like fireworks, the brightness of color scattering the shadows. With my mind clouded for a different reason now, all I can do is hang on with a tenuous grip.
And then, I let go.
Reality slowly reasserts itself. I see the dust motes first, glowing golden in the tiny shaft of early evening. The smell of old leather and grease pervades next, familiar and comforting. Sound and touch return together for a combination that is pleasing, arousing, and calming. We have collapsed on the floor in a tangle of sweat slicked limbs and knocked over bats, and there’s something sharp digging into my side. But at this moment I would not move for the world. For I am willing to steal every moment I can, and if the price we pay for it is forever storage closets or bathrooms, so be it.
Because to have Tajima clinging behind me, breath ghosting over my neck, and Abe in front, head under my chin, I would pay any price.