Oofuri, "An Inelegant but Honest Look at Two Guys Watching the Game Together," A/M, R
Hey, who's tired of me writing down-in-the-mouth serious stuff?
Well okay I'm not either. BUT.
After the story I posted yesterday, I needed something ... fluffy. Stupid. Pointless. Like the spoonful of sugar you get after you choke down a mouthful of cough syrup or whatever. The lemonade you drink after riding an evil ride at the fair. The-
You get the idea.
I started this story back a few days ago, then made the stupid mistake of minimizing it into my taskbar, so it's been sitting there half-finished and completely forgotten. Had the picture that inspired it saved in a tab in Firefox, too, but I had it in a window of Firefox that was minimized down there with the story, so I LOSE.
Or something.
Here, have some fiction that pretty much spells out my interpretation of the MihAbe pairing of Ookiku Furikabutte. It's not a very elegant display of fan theory, not very long (just shy of 1,000 words), but it sums it up rather neatly.
God I'm wordy today. Enjoy the fiction. I'm off to make cranberry muffins.
An Inelegant but Honest Look at Two Guys Watching the Game Together
by mistr3ss Quickly
Haruna's pitching is off.
Well.
He's pitching incredibly, pitching his team to victory, but he's not pitching like he usually does. His pitches look slow, somehow. Stiff. His mouth's set funny, like it was the time a reporter asked him a question about the rumors going around that he was sleeping with one of his teammates. Feet fidgeting more than usual, pawing at the mound with unusual impatience.
It's not that tough a match, the team they're playing against clearly not as strong as Haruna's team on any front, their batters chopping at Haruna's pitches like amateurs. It's not terribly hot in Oosaka, where the match is being held. Not terribly muggy or anything, according to the commentators. Lightly breezy. A beautiful day for a baseball game.
So it's weird for Haruna's pitching to be off like it is, weird that none of the commentators have picked up on it. Abe frowns at the TV, mostly tuning out the inane babble. They should be cutting to a commercial pretty soon. He'll ask Mihashi about it when the commercial comes on. See if maybe he's just imagining things, even though he's almost positive he's not.
The commercial that comes up has Haruna in it. Haruna drinking beer while dressed up as an alien, strangely enough. Something about the beer and his pitches both being "out of this world," though Abe can't quite recall how the commercial manages to draw the comparison.
Doesn't have the chance to get a refresher course, either. He's got other things on his mind.
Like the sudden pressure in his lap, the mouth pressed clumsily over his own. Like the tongue pushing sloppily at his lips until he parts them, the tongue then pushing into his mouth. Like the hands wandering up his arms, resting on his shoulders until he's figured out that he's being kissed and starts kissing back.
No one kisses like Mihashi. No one.
It's rushed and messy, never anything even close to elegant. Tastes of sour beer because, last time Abe checked, Mihashi was sitting in the floor next to him, stretching and stealing his beer instead of getting up to get his own. Just how he used to kiss, back in high school (minus the beer). Minus his shirt, too. Skin prickling with goosebumps in the cool air-conditioned air of the apartment.
Abe closes his eyes and lets his pitcher kiss him. Gets a soft little whimper from the guy for it, one of Mihashi's hands coming up to brush at his cheek. Cupping under his chin to hold him still when it becomes obvious to Mihashi that he's not going to be scolded or pushed away. That he's allowed to do what he's doing. Allowed to kiss Abe into a state of stupidity.
Which is precisely what he does.
He's hard when Abe reaches down to rub at him, his cock trapped in the leg of his pants, straining at the fabric. Makes a strangled noise when Abe gives him a firm squeeze, distracted just long enough for Abe to lean forward and nip at him, to dip down and lick at his throat, one of Mihashi's (many) ticklish spots. Makes another sound when Abe latches his teeth around a sensitive patch of skin and starts to suck, soothing the spot he's marked as his with the brush of his tongue, just to see his pitcher shiver.
Only Mihashi doesn't shiver like Abe's expecting him to. Doesn't get all pushy and demanding and either slide to the floor to suck Abe off or arch up so Abe can strip him from the waist down and suck him. He tenses all over, instead. Pulls away from Abe's grip, wiggling backwards. Gives Abe an apologetic look when Abe says his name and tries to drag him back where he was, before. Back where he belongs.
"S-sorry," Mihashi says. "The game's back on. And I'm worried. About Haruna-san. Because I think he might be having trouble. With this game."
Which is kind of gratifying for the half-second it takes Abe's brain to stop congratulating itself for not being the only one to notice Haruna pitching funny. Turns into a very deep, cinnamon annoyance right after that, pulling Abe's features into a deep glare.
"You-" he starts to say, but calling his pitcher a cock-tease sounds dumb even in his own mind, would probably sound at least ten times worse if he said it out loud, so he shakes his head and sighs. Shifts a little on the sofa. Adjusts his poor aching cock.
Mihashi watches him adjust his cock. Licks his lips.
Chance!
"No," Abe says. "Game's on."
Mihashi sighs. Almost covers the evil smirk Abe sees tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Almost.
"M'kay," Mihashi says, curling up in a ball next to him, close enough that Abe can feel the shift of his muscles, the warmth of his skin. "Maybe during the next commercial break? We could, um. Mess around?"
Said softly, right next to Abe's ear. Breath warm and lips warmer, brushing over the shell.
Abe glares at the TV. Fights with himself for all of two seconds.
Then he grabs the remote and turns the damn game off, the remote clattering loudly to the ground as he pounces his pitcher to the sofa.
Haruna's pitching has been off, before. Stripping Mihashi bare and molesting him until he comes is much more important.
Just like he's pretty sure Mihashi intended it to be.
Whatever. It's mostly (completely) what he wants, too.
Well okay I'm not either. BUT.
After the story I posted yesterday, I needed something ... fluffy. Stupid. Pointless. Like the spoonful of sugar you get after you choke down a mouthful of cough syrup or whatever. The lemonade you drink after riding an evil ride at the fair. The-
You get the idea.
I started this story back a few days ago, then made the stupid mistake of minimizing it into my taskbar, so it's been sitting there half-finished and completely forgotten. Had the picture that inspired it saved in a tab in Firefox, too, but I had it in a window of Firefox that was minimized down there with the story, so I LOSE.
Or something.
Here, have some fiction that pretty much spells out my interpretation of the MihAbe pairing of Ookiku Furikabutte. It's not a very elegant display of fan theory, not very long (just shy of 1,000 words), but it sums it up rather neatly.
God I'm wordy today. Enjoy the fiction. I'm off to make cranberry muffins.
An Inelegant but Honest Look at Two Guys Watching the Game Together
by mistr3ss Quickly
Haruna's pitching is off.
Well.
He's pitching incredibly, pitching his team to victory, but he's not pitching like he usually does. His pitches look slow, somehow. Stiff. His mouth's set funny, like it was the time a reporter asked him a question about the rumors going around that he was sleeping with one of his teammates. Feet fidgeting more than usual, pawing at the mound with unusual impatience.
It's not that tough a match, the team they're playing against clearly not as strong as Haruna's team on any front, their batters chopping at Haruna's pitches like amateurs. It's not terribly hot in Oosaka, where the match is being held. Not terribly muggy or anything, according to the commentators. Lightly breezy. A beautiful day for a baseball game.
So it's weird for Haruna's pitching to be off like it is, weird that none of the commentators have picked up on it. Abe frowns at the TV, mostly tuning out the inane babble. They should be cutting to a commercial pretty soon. He'll ask Mihashi about it when the commercial comes on. See if maybe he's just imagining things, even though he's almost positive he's not.
The commercial that comes up has Haruna in it. Haruna drinking beer while dressed up as an alien, strangely enough. Something about the beer and his pitches both being "out of this world," though Abe can't quite recall how the commercial manages to draw the comparison.
Doesn't have the chance to get a refresher course, either. He's got other things on his mind.
Like the sudden pressure in his lap, the mouth pressed clumsily over his own. Like the tongue pushing sloppily at his lips until he parts them, the tongue then pushing into his mouth. Like the hands wandering up his arms, resting on his shoulders until he's figured out that he's being kissed and starts kissing back.
No one kisses like Mihashi. No one.
It's rushed and messy, never anything even close to elegant. Tastes of sour beer because, last time Abe checked, Mihashi was sitting in the floor next to him, stretching and stealing his beer instead of getting up to get his own. Just how he used to kiss, back in high school (minus the beer). Minus his shirt, too. Skin prickling with goosebumps in the cool air-conditioned air of the apartment.
Abe closes his eyes and lets his pitcher kiss him. Gets a soft little whimper from the guy for it, one of Mihashi's hands coming up to brush at his cheek. Cupping under his chin to hold him still when it becomes obvious to Mihashi that he's not going to be scolded or pushed away. That he's allowed to do what he's doing. Allowed to kiss Abe into a state of stupidity.
Which is precisely what he does.
He's hard when Abe reaches down to rub at him, his cock trapped in the leg of his pants, straining at the fabric. Makes a strangled noise when Abe gives him a firm squeeze, distracted just long enough for Abe to lean forward and nip at him, to dip down and lick at his throat, one of Mihashi's (many) ticklish spots. Makes another sound when Abe latches his teeth around a sensitive patch of skin and starts to suck, soothing the spot he's marked as his with the brush of his tongue, just to see his pitcher shiver.
Only Mihashi doesn't shiver like Abe's expecting him to. Doesn't get all pushy and demanding and either slide to the floor to suck Abe off or arch up so Abe can strip him from the waist down and suck him. He tenses all over, instead. Pulls away from Abe's grip, wiggling backwards. Gives Abe an apologetic look when Abe says his name and tries to drag him back where he was, before. Back where he belongs.
"S-sorry," Mihashi says. "The game's back on. And I'm worried. About Haruna-san. Because I think he might be having trouble. With this game."
Which is kind of gratifying for the half-second it takes Abe's brain to stop congratulating itself for not being the only one to notice Haruna pitching funny. Turns into a very deep, cinnamon annoyance right after that, pulling Abe's features into a deep glare.
"You-" he starts to say, but calling his pitcher a cock-tease sounds dumb even in his own mind, would probably sound at least ten times worse if he said it out loud, so he shakes his head and sighs. Shifts a little on the sofa. Adjusts his poor aching cock.
Mihashi watches him adjust his cock. Licks his lips.
Chance!
"No," Abe says. "Game's on."
Mihashi sighs. Almost covers the evil smirk Abe sees tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Almost.
"M'kay," Mihashi says, curling up in a ball next to him, close enough that Abe can feel the shift of his muscles, the warmth of his skin. "Maybe during the next commercial break? We could, um. Mess around?"
Said softly, right next to Abe's ear. Breath warm and lips warmer, brushing over the shell.
Abe glares at the TV. Fights with himself for all of two seconds.
Then he grabs the remote and turns the damn game off, the remote clattering loudly to the ground as he pounces his pitcher to the sofa.
Haruna's pitching has been off, before. Stripping Mihashi bare and molesting him until he comes is much more important.
Just like he's pretty sure Mihashi intended it to be.
Whatever. It's mostly (completely) what he wants, too.