[fic] KHR - Permutations
Title: Permutations
Characters: Kyouko, Haru
Summary: Three ways Kyouko and Haru might fit together, if things were slightly different.
Notes: For Porn Battle VIII, to the prompt "Kyouko/Haru, genderswitch." AU, 1655 words, various genderswappings, and smut.
~~~~~~~~~~
Permutations
1. Focal Point (Kyousuke/Haru)
Kyousuke made love like it was the only thing worth doing in the whole wide world, Haru thought, distractedly, as his mouth traced down her throat, slow and hot. She arched against him, curling her fingers in his hair as he cupped her breasts, and gasped as he tasted the hollow of her throat. "God," she said, shuddering as he nuzzled the valley between her breasts, and then moaned as he traced his mouth over the curve of one and his hands slid over her skin, slow and teasing, until Haru thought she would melt with the heat that trailed after them. "God, Kyousuke, please..."
Kyousuke made a thoughtful sound, hands slipping down to curve around her hips. Haru was a little embarrassed by the pleading sound that escaped her throat and the way her hips lifted against his, inviting him to do more. He made another thoughtful sound, and then his weight shifted over her, mouth sliding down her stomach. Haru shuddered as Kyousuke's hands slid down her thighs, spreading them wider, and then tilted her hips up, and moaned outright as he bent his head and stroked his tongue against her. Kyousuke held her steady, and Haru could hear the ragged edge in her own voice as heat coiled more tightly, low in her belly, with every slow movement of his tongue against her. He was relentless about it, and pleasure slid up her spine until all Haru could do was grip the sheets and cry out as her pleasure broke over her, unstoppable as a tidal wave.
When Kyousuke settled over again, her throat was dry with panting and she was nearly limp, trembling in the aftermath. "God," she whispered, sliding her arms around him. "God, Kyousuke."
He hummed against her throat, and she could feel his smile against her skin. Haru forgave him for the faintly smug note, since he'd earned it, and settled for tracing her fingers down his spine and rolling her hips against his. Kyousuke moaned her name, low and reverent, and gasped as she did it again. When she curved her hands on his rear and palmed the tight handful it, he took the hint, and slid his hands down to gather her close.
Haru was still sensitive--almost too sensitive--and the first slow press of him into her sent heat tingling through her again. She moaned, breathlessly, and wound her arms around him, anchoring herself against Kyousuke's strength as the slow rock of his hips sent pleasure running along all her nerves. "Yes," she breathed, arching against him as he kissed her throat, and kneaded her fingers against his back as pleasure wound around her again, the knot of it coiling tight. When it finally came unspoiled, Haru arched against Kyousuke, gasping his name as she came apart.
She collected herself slowly, every part of her glowing with pleasure, and stroked her fingers through Kyousuke's hair. "Yes," she murmured to him, as he moaned against her throat, hoarse and open, and held him closer as he went taut and the steady rhythm of his thrust stuttered and fell apart.
Kyousuke settled against her again, panting softly, and Haru stroked his hair, smiling as he snuggled closer. This wasn't quite how she'd planned for her life to go, but looking at it now, she rather thought she wouldn't have changed a thing.
2. Warzone (Kyousuke/Haruka)
Haruka was firmly of the opinion that a person's whole world shouldn’t be allowed to go to hell so fast. There ought to have been warning signs and ways to avert disaster, or at least enough time to brace oneself against the coming storm. It wasn't fair for things to just--just fall apart like this.
Here they were anyway. Tsuna was dead and his Guardians were pretty much completely scattered, and Millefiore was hounding anyone who'd had ties to the Vongola.
And he and Kyousuke were both in it up to their necks.
"Any word?" he asked, when Kyousuke finally came in.
Kyousuke stripped out of his jacket and tie before answering, and left his shoulder holster in place. "Yamamoto Tsuyoshi is dead."
"Fuck." Haruka closed his eyes. "Those bastards." Fear for his own parents stabbed at him again; pushing it aside and reminding himself that they were away, vacationing and as safe as anyone could be, was getting to be almost easy. "Has anyone told Yamamoto yet?"
Kyousuke dropped onto the bed. "He knows." He ran his hands over his face, the movements weary.
Haruka looked at the bowed lines of his shoulders, and reached for his flask. "Here," he said, handing it to Kyousuke. "Take a hit. You need it."
It was a sign of how bad things had gotten that Kyousuke did. While he capped the flask again, Haruka knelt on the bed behind him and began kneading his shoulders, digging into the tight muscles there. "Did he take it badly?"
"I told him his father was dead." Kyousuke's voice was remote, like it was coming from the bottom of a well. "How well do you think he took it?"
Haruka drew in a breath and grimaced. "Yeah, sorry. Stupid question." A fine tremor ran through the muscles beneath his hands. "Hey..."
Kyousuke turned and pressed against him. "Can we not talk right now?" he asked, voice taut. "Please?"
"Yeah, okay," Haruka said, and threaded his fingers through Kyousuke's hair. "Sure."
He let Kyousuke push him backwards and met his kisses. Kyousuke's mouth tasted of scotch and desperation, and his kisses had lost the easy good cheer that had drawn Haruka to him in the first place. But there wasn't much to be cheerful about anymore, and this wasn't bad, in its own way. Haruka answered Kyousuke's urgent kisses with his own, and it was good to hold onto him, to scrabble for buttons and push cloth aside to feel the warm immediacy of Kyousuke's skin against his, to have Kyousuke's pulse beating under his palms and to remind himself that no matter what else had happened, they were still here, still alive, and Byakuran and Millefiore could be damned.
Kyousuke's hands were rougher than usual, heavy on Haruka's shoulders and nearly clumsy with the urgency of their press against him, into him. Haruka hissed against Kyousuke's mouth at the burning stretch of them. Kyousuke hesitated at that, fingers stilling, and Haruka had to bite back a curse at himself. "Don't stop," he said, and rocked himself against Kyousuke's fingers, gasping a little at the hard edge of the heat that followed the movement.
Kyousuke still hesitated, like he'd started thinking again. Haruka rocked his hips again, and when Kyousuke didn't quite respond, growled with frustration.
Haruka pushed at Kyousuke's shoulders, pushing him over. The time it took to slick his fingers was long enough for Kyousuke's expression to go from confused to faintly amused--and then it just went blank when Haruka ran his fingers down Kyousuke's cock. Kyousuke moaned at that, and then again as Haruka straddled his hips and sank down on his cock. The stretch of it was hard enough to ache--hard enough that Haruka thought he might regret it, a little, later on--but the effect on Kyousuke was gratifying enough to make it worth it. Kyousuke groaned as Haruka moved over him, and his hips rocked up to meet Haruka's.
Haruka grinned, since Kyousuke wasn't worrying about anything at all now, and drove himself down against Kyousuke, panting at the burning of his thigh muscles and the thick curl of pleasure licking through him as he fucked himself on Kyousuke's cock. Kyousuke's hands settled on his ass, holding him steady as he drove himself up against Haruka, fast and hard, until he snapped taut under Haruka, hips jerking raggedly and voice choking on a groan.
Haruka braced a hand on Kyousuke's chest, savoring the swept-clean expression on his lover's face, and dropped his other hand down to his own cock. Kyousuke was just starting to still under him as Haruka stroked himself, fingers moving fast as he chased the edge of his own release. He groaned again when Haruka found it, as Haruka arched over him, pleasure tightening down on him.
Kyousuke caught him as Haruka slumped over him, wrung out. Haruka let him do it, sagging into Kyousuke's hands and panting as Kyousuke took care of the clean-up and then arranged them more comfortably. "Thanks," Kyousuke said, when Haruka rested his head against Kyousuke's shoulder, and then, "You didn't have to do that."
"Shut up," Haruka muttered, because even if Kyousuke didn't see that yes, actually, he had needed to do that, he was too relaxed to argue about it.
Kyousuke's arm tightened around him, briefly, like he'd understood anyway.
3. To the Victor, the Spoils (Haruka/Kyouko)
Haruka is never more conscious of how incredibly lucky he is than when they're in bed. It's not like Kyouko is ever not beautiful, but seeing her like this, bare skin his to touch freely, her eyes watching him, soft and dark and trusting, always takes Haruka's breath away.
Every time he touches Kyouko, feels her arch into his hands and hears his name on her lips, it catches at his heart. Haruka answers the only way he knows how, by holding her close and kissing her again and again, rocking against her slowly until they both dissolve into sweetness together. He twines himself around Kyouko after, filling his hands with the texture of her and luxuriating in the way she nestles against him.
Haruka knows very well just how lucky he is, and knows that Kyouko was never supposed to choose him, of all people. He still doesn't understand why she did, not entirely, because telling her the truth about the Vongola had only made sense, even if Tsuna hadn't felt the same way about it at the time. But Kyouko has chosen him, and since she has, Haruka is going to be damn sure that he doesn't ever give her a reason to regret that choice.
- end -
Comments, as always, are quite welcome!
Characters: Kyouko, Haru
Summary: Three ways Kyouko and Haru might fit together, if things were slightly different.
Notes: For Porn Battle VIII, to the prompt "Kyouko/Haru, genderswitch." AU, 1655 words, various genderswappings, and smut.
~~~~~~~~~~
Permutations
1. Focal Point (Kyousuke/Haru)
Kyousuke made love like it was the only thing worth doing in the whole wide world, Haru thought, distractedly, as his mouth traced down her throat, slow and hot. She arched against him, curling her fingers in his hair as he cupped her breasts, and gasped as he tasted the hollow of her throat. "God," she said, shuddering as he nuzzled the valley between her breasts, and then moaned as he traced his mouth over the curve of one and his hands slid over her skin, slow and teasing, until Haru thought she would melt with the heat that trailed after them. "God, Kyousuke, please..."
Kyousuke made a thoughtful sound, hands slipping down to curve around her hips. Haru was a little embarrassed by the pleading sound that escaped her throat and the way her hips lifted against his, inviting him to do more. He made another thoughtful sound, and then his weight shifted over her, mouth sliding down her stomach. Haru shuddered as Kyousuke's hands slid down her thighs, spreading them wider, and then tilted her hips up, and moaned outright as he bent his head and stroked his tongue against her. Kyousuke held her steady, and Haru could hear the ragged edge in her own voice as heat coiled more tightly, low in her belly, with every slow movement of his tongue against her. He was relentless about it, and pleasure slid up her spine until all Haru could do was grip the sheets and cry out as her pleasure broke over her, unstoppable as a tidal wave.
When Kyousuke settled over again, her throat was dry with panting and she was nearly limp, trembling in the aftermath. "God," she whispered, sliding her arms around him. "God, Kyousuke."
He hummed against her throat, and she could feel his smile against her skin. Haru forgave him for the faintly smug note, since he'd earned it, and settled for tracing her fingers down his spine and rolling her hips against his. Kyousuke moaned her name, low and reverent, and gasped as she did it again. When she curved her hands on his rear and palmed the tight handful it, he took the hint, and slid his hands down to gather her close.
Haru was still sensitive--almost too sensitive--and the first slow press of him into her sent heat tingling through her again. She moaned, breathlessly, and wound her arms around him, anchoring herself against Kyousuke's strength as the slow rock of his hips sent pleasure running along all her nerves. "Yes," she breathed, arching against him as he kissed her throat, and kneaded her fingers against his back as pleasure wound around her again, the knot of it coiling tight. When it finally came unspoiled, Haru arched against Kyousuke, gasping his name as she came apart.
She collected herself slowly, every part of her glowing with pleasure, and stroked her fingers through Kyousuke's hair. "Yes," she murmured to him, as he moaned against her throat, hoarse and open, and held him closer as he went taut and the steady rhythm of his thrust stuttered and fell apart.
Kyousuke settled against her again, panting softly, and Haru stroked his hair, smiling as he snuggled closer. This wasn't quite how she'd planned for her life to go, but looking at it now, she rather thought she wouldn't have changed a thing.
2. Warzone (Kyousuke/Haruka)
Haruka was firmly of the opinion that a person's whole world shouldn’t be allowed to go to hell so fast. There ought to have been warning signs and ways to avert disaster, or at least enough time to brace oneself against the coming storm. It wasn't fair for things to just--just fall apart like this.
Here they were anyway. Tsuna was dead and his Guardians were pretty much completely scattered, and Millefiore was hounding anyone who'd had ties to the Vongola.
And he and Kyousuke were both in it up to their necks.
"Any word?" he asked, when Kyousuke finally came in.
Kyousuke stripped out of his jacket and tie before answering, and left his shoulder holster in place. "Yamamoto Tsuyoshi is dead."
"Fuck." Haruka closed his eyes. "Those bastards." Fear for his own parents stabbed at him again; pushing it aside and reminding himself that they were away, vacationing and as safe as anyone could be, was getting to be almost easy. "Has anyone told Yamamoto yet?"
Kyousuke dropped onto the bed. "He knows." He ran his hands over his face, the movements weary.
Haruka looked at the bowed lines of his shoulders, and reached for his flask. "Here," he said, handing it to Kyousuke. "Take a hit. You need it."
It was a sign of how bad things had gotten that Kyousuke did. While he capped the flask again, Haruka knelt on the bed behind him and began kneading his shoulders, digging into the tight muscles there. "Did he take it badly?"
"I told him his father was dead." Kyousuke's voice was remote, like it was coming from the bottom of a well. "How well do you think he took it?"
Haruka drew in a breath and grimaced. "Yeah, sorry. Stupid question." A fine tremor ran through the muscles beneath his hands. "Hey..."
Kyousuke turned and pressed against him. "Can we not talk right now?" he asked, voice taut. "Please?"
"Yeah, okay," Haruka said, and threaded his fingers through Kyousuke's hair. "Sure."
He let Kyousuke push him backwards and met his kisses. Kyousuke's mouth tasted of scotch and desperation, and his kisses had lost the easy good cheer that had drawn Haruka to him in the first place. But there wasn't much to be cheerful about anymore, and this wasn't bad, in its own way. Haruka answered Kyousuke's urgent kisses with his own, and it was good to hold onto him, to scrabble for buttons and push cloth aside to feel the warm immediacy of Kyousuke's skin against his, to have Kyousuke's pulse beating under his palms and to remind himself that no matter what else had happened, they were still here, still alive, and Byakuran and Millefiore could be damned.
Kyousuke's hands were rougher than usual, heavy on Haruka's shoulders and nearly clumsy with the urgency of their press against him, into him. Haruka hissed against Kyousuke's mouth at the burning stretch of them. Kyousuke hesitated at that, fingers stilling, and Haruka had to bite back a curse at himself. "Don't stop," he said, and rocked himself against Kyousuke's fingers, gasping a little at the hard edge of the heat that followed the movement.
Kyousuke still hesitated, like he'd started thinking again. Haruka rocked his hips again, and when Kyousuke didn't quite respond, growled with frustration.
Haruka pushed at Kyousuke's shoulders, pushing him over. The time it took to slick his fingers was long enough for Kyousuke's expression to go from confused to faintly amused--and then it just went blank when Haruka ran his fingers down Kyousuke's cock. Kyousuke moaned at that, and then again as Haruka straddled his hips and sank down on his cock. The stretch of it was hard enough to ache--hard enough that Haruka thought he might regret it, a little, later on--but the effect on Kyousuke was gratifying enough to make it worth it. Kyousuke groaned as Haruka moved over him, and his hips rocked up to meet Haruka's.
Haruka grinned, since Kyousuke wasn't worrying about anything at all now, and drove himself down against Kyousuke, panting at the burning of his thigh muscles and the thick curl of pleasure licking through him as he fucked himself on Kyousuke's cock. Kyousuke's hands settled on his ass, holding him steady as he drove himself up against Haruka, fast and hard, until he snapped taut under Haruka, hips jerking raggedly and voice choking on a groan.
Haruka braced a hand on Kyousuke's chest, savoring the swept-clean expression on his lover's face, and dropped his other hand down to his own cock. Kyousuke was just starting to still under him as Haruka stroked himself, fingers moving fast as he chased the edge of his own release. He groaned again when Haruka found it, as Haruka arched over him, pleasure tightening down on him.
Kyousuke caught him as Haruka slumped over him, wrung out. Haruka let him do it, sagging into Kyousuke's hands and panting as Kyousuke took care of the clean-up and then arranged them more comfortably. "Thanks," Kyousuke said, when Haruka rested his head against Kyousuke's shoulder, and then, "You didn't have to do that."
"Shut up," Haruka muttered, because even if Kyousuke didn't see that yes, actually, he had needed to do that, he was too relaxed to argue about it.
Kyousuke's arm tightened around him, briefly, like he'd understood anyway.
3. To the Victor, the Spoils (Haruka/Kyouko)
Haruka is never more conscious of how incredibly lucky he is than when they're in bed. It's not like Kyouko is ever not beautiful, but seeing her like this, bare skin his to touch freely, her eyes watching him, soft and dark and trusting, always takes Haruka's breath away.
Every time he touches Kyouko, feels her arch into his hands and hears his name on her lips, it catches at his heart. Haruka answers the only way he knows how, by holding her close and kissing her again and again, rocking against her slowly until they both dissolve into sweetness together. He twines himself around Kyouko after, filling his hands with the texture of her and luxuriating in the way she nestles against him.
Haruka knows very well just how lucky he is, and knows that Kyouko was never supposed to choose him, of all people. He still doesn't understand why she did, not entirely, because telling her the truth about the Vongola had only made sense, even if Tsuna hadn't felt the same way about it at the time. But Kyouko has chosen him, and since she has, Haruka is going to be damn sure that he doesn't ever give her a reason to regret that choice.
- end -
Comments, as always, are quite welcome!