[tenipuri] IM~PE~TUS (alternatively, "i'll make you crazy before you cry")
This fic was originally posted at the
potcrackxchange.
Title: IM~PE~TUS (alternatively, “i’ll make you crazy before you cry”)
For:
hakkais_shadow/Jakin.
Pairing: Niou/Oshitari.
Rating: PG-15~R (swearing, non-descriptive sex…and packaged condoms)
Summary: The one where Yuushi’s batshit crazy enough to name a toilet and Niou gets turned on by Yuushi’s crap, in a much more literal sense. Generous abuse of Royal/AtoYuu and uh…condoms (RLY).
Author’s Notes: Jakin~san. >___> This thing is like full of run-ons and multiple personality disorder but then again, we’re working with twisted temptations and I hope it makes at least a little sense for you; I did work hard on this one. Hope you have fun reading! 8D --2588 words.
--
01 IM(PE)TUS
The condoms were what did it for him.
Oshitari Yuushi doesn’t take the arrangement of the impetus seriously until he realizes (while perched on a porcelain toilet bowl in Rome, in-between reading the text on the back of a cardboard box containing lubricated condoms) that there was indeed an overwhelming contrast between abandoning a tennis game at two o’ clock in the afternoon to go bar-hopping and abandoning Atobe in a sweaty bed with his slut-of-a-fiancée. The margin of error had made itself a byproduct of the circumstances in which he had performed all of his calculations-first in catatonic mind-shuffle mode and then again while accompanied by Mukahi in a manga café during a particularly extravagant loop-play of Arashi’s mariachi-band-simulation single, Happiness. These discrepancies were the most likely factors that might have manipulated and possibly altered the outcome of his relationship with Atobe as well as the one that had estranged Atobe from Echizen and alarmed Tezuka and Rikkai within twenty hours of each other and in turn plopped Oshitari on top of this very special toilet bowl in Rome, with a box of (lubricated) condoms to boot.
“I am getting married to my fiancée in one year,” Atobe had drawn his thin lips into a thin line. “And that means Echizen has got to go and that you’ve got to get rid of him for ore-sama, Oshitari.”
“I am no longer your dog, Atobe.” Yuushi can hear himself sneer and there’s a bit of a weird sound that makes the box behind his Adam’s apple hurt. He ponders the likelihood of developing some new strain of pharyngeal cancer.
It takes Atobe ten seconds for the words to sink in.
“You’re…not.” Atobe repeats back lamely.
“I’m not.” He affirms.
(And Oshitari, although predominantly of the male sex, suddenly begins to hear his biological clock ticking. In this case he thinks that it might be okay to attribute this crime to chronobiology and experimental fruit flies.)
02 imPEEtus
Plop.
To continue the psychological reinforcement of venting out his problems, Yuushi kids himself for a while that he’s acting perfectly normal and then, in another fit of guilt, names the toilet bowl Ryoma.
He had become immediately suspicious when he had read in Spanish that the condoms came in 26 packages-of-twos. This could only imply that these condoms had been designed and wrapped for sex enthusiasts who probably enjoyed both the act of penetrating and being penetrated (the result of both participants having to don condoms), or individuals who enjoyed having sex twice instead of once, as only two condoms sandwiched together in a single plastic seal could suggest. Because if the condoms were lubricated, then it would be a messy affair to take one out and shove the other one back in the package. Because it would be stupid to hope that the water-based lubricant would not dry up. Because it certainly would.
Oshitari is definitely not the one responsible for purchasing these condoms.
Plop.
Opposite the toilet and hanging nine inches directly above the toilet paper ring is an impression of the Vitruvian man in red artists’ clay. Yuushi examines it for a while and concludes that there must have been some sort of ulterior motive besides strict interest in the anatomy of the human body for Leonardo da Vinci to go into such explicit detail of the structure of something that at the time would’ve only seemed to be the normal dick of a young Renaissance man.
Plop.
Two of many strange anomalies of the world: the Vitruvian man and condoms that come in packages-of-two. He’d be the only person in the world who could use the entire pack at once because of the possession of four arms and four legs (and probably two penises).
Yuushi doesn’t think this is funny but he laughs at it anyway.
“Your family is vacationing in the Pyrenees and Rome this summer, aren’t they? Take Echizen with you, Oshitari. Some fresh Mediterranean air will do him good. I’ll pay for it if you won’t.”
He sighs coldly. “If you could only be a man and tell Echizen yourself…”
Atobe doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re assuming too much, Yuushi. You’re forgetting that I don’t love you anymore.”
(Those were the words that had really hurt.)
03 imperative
He has been sitting on Ryoma for nine minutes already. The hard seat of the toilet rim (although warmed from his body heat) digs into his thighs and there’re probably going to be red welts there when he gets up because arteries and veins usually have a tendency to do those sorts of things: congregate at a point in the body where the gravitational pull is particularly strong, and stay there for a while, sloshing around back and forth, and that’s how people get fat-or at least, people with Yuushi’s BMI.
“Think of it as a favor for me,” Atobe countered, and Yuushi knew that this was probably going to be the closest thing he’d ever get to an apology from his old boyfriend.
“I hope that I do not have to remind you,” He chose his words carefully. “That in every dirty situation there is, of course, bowel movement involved.”
(Oshitari himself has abhorrence for poo. It is stinky and can range from looking like limp twigs to the coiled torso of a twelve-foot-long anaconda. Not at all appealing. Mukahi had forgotten to flush after coming out of the locker room stalls one Friday practice before the weekend, and on the Monday when they had gotten back Shishido had run from the toilet bowl screaming something obscene about the Loch Ness monster.)
04 impetuous
Absentmindedly, Yuushi sets the box of two-to-a-package condoms down on Ryoma’s lid to ponder the meaning of life.
And then, rather suddenly, the impetus is confirmed when Niou Masaharu -who happens to be the beginning of this whole sordid phase of house arrest- walks into the bathroom half-naked, scrunches up his nose, and tells Yuushi to open a window please because his crap smells something awful and Niou feels horny right now so would Yuushi please make a move on the toilet paper, thanks.
“I’m not going to have sex with you, if that’s what you want,” Yuushi tells him, not bothering to remind the other man that, since he is sitting on Ryoma with his pants pulled down, it is probably physically impossible to unlatch a window located five feet above his head, no matter how many Higuma Otoshi’s he practices (and the fact that he is considerably less-convincing when he says please two times in one sentence). The point is lost on Niou and when they start to kiss on top of the toilet bowl, Yuushi’s pants still pulled-down and crap still stirring in the toilet water not unlike half-gorged koi in a murky pond, things decidedly make a turn for the worse because clearly both of them have lost their minds, and while Yuushi has no trouble accepting Atobe’s faults, Niou certainly would, and then one of them would probably wind up with a synthetic leg or something like that after a trip out of the MRI.
He hasn’t even had a chance to wipe his ass yet. Yuushi reminds Niou of this.
“But there is no exact relationship between synthetic limbs and the MRI,” Niou grumbles as he lets go of Yuushi’s shoulders.
(Fine, then. Yuushi will contract pharyngeal cancer instead. And maybe turn into a grey lemur in Madagascar and subject himself to procreation with a kangaroo while he’s at it.)
He jabs at image of the retired (and bald) Portuguese player on the pamphlet with a little desperation, “I recommend this tennis workshop. It’s a nice secluded area near the Pyrenees. Would you like to go with me this summer?”
“I thought you were going to talk to me about him.” Ryoma gives him a defiant glare, “How does Atobe tie into it at all?”
Yuushi swallows. “He doesn’t, not really. But you will regret it if you stay with him over the summer, this I can guarantee. Get away from him before you get hurt.”
The uncomprehending look slides from the younger boy’s face as he realizes what Yuushi’s trying to imply, and it’s almost instantaneously replaced by a hard expression. “I appreciate your advice, Oshitari, but don’t tell me what to do about Keigo. Especially since he isn’t even on speaking terms with you.”
(If only you knew, Yuushi thinks. If only you knew how much of an ass your Keigo could be, before having to receive firsthand experience. If only you weren’t as much of a stubborn idiot as him, but -no- both of you have to subscribe to the same shitty complex. But that’s probably why he found you more favorable than me. But this is good, this is good. I think that I am very likely to choke someone to death if I have to deal with Atobe’s problems again.)
05 impulsive
“There is something very twisted and tempting about your poo.” Niou offers by way of explanation, and this almost makes Yuushi cry out in frustration but he can’t because he’s still quite sure that his experiment had played-out wrong, the independent variables had mixed with the control group, and that the box of 26 condoms actually comes individually-wrapped, because who would want to have sex twice in Europe anyway -and in Rome, for that matter- since Italians are probably no different from the rest of the world. (But he should also take into account the back of the condom box-it was written in Spanish and he could just as well assume that the condom had come from Spain or some part of South America where God knows what people did.)
“You are starting to sound like that Ibu guy from Fudomine.” Niou says after a pause, as if it’s the worse thing in the world and probably even worse than a lifetime doomed to having shitty orgasms, “Because -one- I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about and -two- your shit smells really bad.”
“Does it?” Yuushi asks him calmly, “If so then kindly get off of me so that I can wipe my ass and flush the toilet, and then maybe we can continue this in a more sanitary environment.”
Unsurprisingly, Niou does not do what he is told. He initiates another kiss, and they that continue for good minute until Oshitari farts and Niou jumps up like his hair has been set on fire by Osakada Tomoka (or somebody random like that), curses vividly, and opens the window himself. Oshitari uses this moment to snatch at the toilet paper roll under the Vitruvian man, grabbing a wad of it and dabbing messily at his pelvic region so that at least he is no longer dripping, and before Niou can force himself on his lap again he pushes the silver-haired man out of the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
Maybe the kangaroo in Madagascar will hatch an egg.
“WHY DO I HAVE TO HANG AROUND WITH ASSHOLES ANYWAY.” he shouts into the door.
Niou’s voice bounces back a few seconds later, “BECAUSE ONLY AN ASSHOLE WOULD LOVE YOU, ASSHOLE.”
As he plops back down on top of Ryoma, Oshitari makes the ghastly discovery that in the rush of the moment, his box of condoms had fallen into the toilet. They’re soaking in, bit by bit, and the cheap European ink on the mushy cardboard is already beginning to thin.
He smells migraine. (And last night’s dinner in its latrine form.)
And once again, Oshitari is able to picture the surplus of condom wrappers littered over Atobe’s bed on that day he got back from the manga café with Mukahi. He can see, like the relief of a dark room snapped-up in the instantaneous flashbulb of a lightning storm, Atobe’s naked form sprawled all over a girl, like an oddly-jumbled climax scene out of a cheaply-shot porn video and Echizen standing, frozen like a statue outside of the door, tears running down his face.
“What I would like to know,” he had kept his voice controlled, “is why he had done it to Echizen. I was perfectly fine with him doing it to me, but he did not have to do it to the boy because he knows that, while I am capable of handling a situation like that, Echizen is definitely not. That kid had always been his mistake and an error to the equation.”
Niou had leaned across the counter of the bar disinterestedly, “Look, Oshitari, I’m glad that you can get this stuff of your chest and all, but you may want to consider redirecting your psychotic crap to someone who actually gives a fuck about your problems. And stop pretending that it hasn’t affected you a single bit, because we both know it did.”
(Echizen had gone missing that day, and to Niou’s dismay it was the first and last time he would ever get to see Oshitari Yuushi cry, and by the end of the night he had taken back his words and cared about Yuushi’s psychotic crap until the next morning, in various positions.)
06 impulsive idiot (in reaction) to impetus (it isn’t love)
He closes Ryoma’s lid and decides to worry about the soaking lubricated two-to-a-pack box of condoms at a later time. Tearing off a few more squares of Heavy Cottonelle, he wipes the rest of his bottom until it is adequately clean, then pulls up his pants (they feel icy on the skin of his thigh) and washes his hands with antibacterial soap. The bathroom mirror is skewed forward on its peg by about 23-degrees to the perpendicular of the wall against the floor, but since it’s square it only leaves an impression of geometrical irregularity-gravity and normal forces are partially balanced and the rest is all up to friction. A slam of the door and maybe some rough sex would probably knock it down, but it will probably stay there on the wall until Yuushi is free from his prison.
The window is still open when he exits the bathroom. Niou is resting comfortably on the couch, crouched like a happy, well-cared-for domestic animal (he pouts when Yuushi tells him this). They kiss again -and this time for longer- before Niou asks him where the condoms went.
“Where did you put my laptop?” Yuushi ignores him.
“Check the coffee table,” Niou wraps arms around Yuushi’s waist, “So where did the condoms go?”
“Threw them out. They’ve been past the expiration date.” Yuushi says, and opens a web browser on his computer, “I think I’ve settled the algorithm.”
Niou looks on over Yuushi’s shoulder. “What are you going to do,” he scoffs, “invent me an eHarmony profile and then send Atobe off to Online Dating 101?”
“You make me want to live in a box.” Yuushi’s reply is sardonic, leaning back into the keyboard to his email, tapping out a new message. Niou hands him a regular, individually-wrapped condom.
“We won’t forgive Atobe, will we?”
“No, we certainly will not.”
Niou flips another condom into Yuushi’s face with the air of a pet enjoying himself in a game of fetch and competitive condom-tossing. “You’re tempting me with your twisted crap again. I love you too much, Oshitari.”
“And I am very close to choking you to death.” Oshitari says flatly, “So shut up and stop waving that distracting object around.”
Niou does not stop waving that distracting object around, and makes a pout, “But I just said I love you. Can we at least cuddle?”
“Your feelings will be reciprocated tonight if you behave.” Yuushi responds coolly as he continues to type because he knows the disastrous effects of at least cuddle very well, “Maybe faster, if you stop acting on impulse. It doesn’t suit you. And for God’s sake, don’t pout; you know it doesn’t work.”
-
*end.
Thanks for reading. Reviews/comments will be replied to here, and are much-loved. Anon-posting has been turned on. =D
potcrackxchange.
Title: IM~PE~TUS (alternatively, “i’ll make you crazy before you cry”)
For:
hakkais_shadow/Jakin.
Pairing: Niou/Oshitari.
Rating: PG-15~R (swearing, non-descriptive sex…and packaged condoms)
Summary: The one where Yuushi’s batshit crazy enough to name a toilet and Niou gets turned on by Yuushi’s crap, in a much more literal sense. Generous abuse of Royal/AtoYuu and uh…condoms (RLY).
Author’s Notes: Jakin~san. >___> This thing is like full of run-ons and multiple personality disorder but then again, we’re working with twisted temptations and I hope it makes at least a little sense for you; I did work hard on this one. Hope you have fun reading! 8D --2588 words.
--
01 IM(PE)TUS
The condoms were what did it for him.
Oshitari Yuushi doesn’t take the arrangement of the impetus seriously until he realizes (while perched on a porcelain toilet bowl in Rome, in-between reading the text on the back of a cardboard box containing lubricated condoms) that there was indeed an overwhelming contrast between abandoning a tennis game at two o’ clock in the afternoon to go bar-hopping and abandoning Atobe in a sweaty bed with his slut-of-a-fiancée. The margin of error had made itself a byproduct of the circumstances in which he had performed all of his calculations-first in catatonic mind-shuffle mode and then again while accompanied by Mukahi in a manga café during a particularly extravagant loop-play of Arashi’s mariachi-band-simulation single, Happiness. These discrepancies were the most likely factors that might have manipulated and possibly altered the outcome of his relationship with Atobe as well as the one that had estranged Atobe from Echizen and alarmed Tezuka and Rikkai within twenty hours of each other and in turn plopped Oshitari on top of this very special toilet bowl in Rome, with a box of (lubricated) condoms to boot.
“I am getting married to my fiancée in one year,” Atobe had drawn his thin lips into a thin line. “And that means Echizen has got to go and that you’ve got to get rid of him for ore-sama, Oshitari.”
“I am no longer your dog, Atobe.” Yuushi can hear himself sneer and there’s a bit of a weird sound that makes the box behind his Adam’s apple hurt. He ponders the likelihood of developing some new strain of pharyngeal cancer.
It takes Atobe ten seconds for the words to sink in.
“You’re…not.” Atobe repeats back lamely.
“I’m not.” He affirms.
(And Oshitari, although predominantly of the male sex, suddenly begins to hear his biological clock ticking. In this case he thinks that it might be okay to attribute this crime to chronobiology and experimental fruit flies.)
02 imPEEtus
Plop.
To continue the psychological reinforcement of venting out his problems, Yuushi kids himself for a while that he’s acting perfectly normal and then, in another fit of guilt, names the toilet bowl Ryoma.
He had become immediately suspicious when he had read in Spanish that the condoms came in 26 packages-of-twos. This could only imply that these condoms had been designed and wrapped for sex enthusiasts who probably enjoyed both the act of penetrating and being penetrated (the result of both participants having to don condoms), or individuals who enjoyed having sex twice instead of once, as only two condoms sandwiched together in a single plastic seal could suggest. Because if the condoms were lubricated, then it would be a messy affair to take one out and shove the other one back in the package. Because it would be stupid to hope that the water-based lubricant would not dry up. Because it certainly would.
Oshitari is definitely not the one responsible for purchasing these condoms.
Plop.
Opposite the toilet and hanging nine inches directly above the toilet paper ring is an impression of the Vitruvian man in red artists’ clay. Yuushi examines it for a while and concludes that there must have been some sort of ulterior motive besides strict interest in the anatomy of the human body for Leonardo da Vinci to go into such explicit detail of the structure of something that at the time would’ve only seemed to be the normal dick of a young Renaissance man.
Plop.
Two of many strange anomalies of the world: the Vitruvian man and condoms that come in packages-of-two. He’d be the only person in the world who could use the entire pack at once because of the possession of four arms and four legs (and probably two penises).
Yuushi doesn’t think this is funny but he laughs at it anyway.
“Your family is vacationing in the Pyrenees and Rome this summer, aren’t they? Take Echizen with you, Oshitari. Some fresh Mediterranean air will do him good. I’ll pay for it if you won’t.”
He sighs coldly. “If you could only be a man and tell Echizen yourself…”
Atobe doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re assuming too much, Yuushi. You’re forgetting that I don’t love you anymore.”
(Those were the words that had really hurt.)
03 imperative
He has been sitting on Ryoma for nine minutes already. The hard seat of the toilet rim (although warmed from his body heat) digs into his thighs and there’re probably going to be red welts there when he gets up because arteries and veins usually have a tendency to do those sorts of things: congregate at a point in the body where the gravitational pull is particularly strong, and stay there for a while, sloshing around back and forth, and that’s how people get fat-or at least, people with Yuushi’s BMI.
“Think of it as a favor for me,” Atobe countered, and Yuushi knew that this was probably going to be the closest thing he’d ever get to an apology from his old boyfriend.
“I hope that I do not have to remind you,” He chose his words carefully. “That in every dirty situation there is, of course, bowel movement involved.”
(Oshitari himself has abhorrence for poo. It is stinky and can range from looking like limp twigs to the coiled torso of a twelve-foot-long anaconda. Not at all appealing. Mukahi had forgotten to flush after coming out of the locker room stalls one Friday practice before the weekend, and on the Monday when they had gotten back Shishido had run from the toilet bowl screaming something obscene about the Loch Ness monster.)
04 impetuous
Absentmindedly, Yuushi sets the box of two-to-a-package condoms down on Ryoma’s lid to ponder the meaning of life.
And then, rather suddenly, the impetus is confirmed when Niou Masaharu -who happens to be the beginning of this whole sordid phase of house arrest- walks into the bathroom half-naked, scrunches up his nose, and tells Yuushi to open a window please because his crap smells something awful and Niou feels horny right now so would Yuushi please make a move on the toilet paper, thanks.
“I’m not going to have sex with you, if that’s what you want,” Yuushi tells him, not bothering to remind the other man that, since he is sitting on Ryoma with his pants pulled down, it is probably physically impossible to unlatch a window located five feet above his head, no matter how many Higuma Otoshi’s he practices (and the fact that he is considerably less-convincing when he says please two times in one sentence). The point is lost on Niou and when they start to kiss on top of the toilet bowl, Yuushi’s pants still pulled-down and crap still stirring in the toilet water not unlike half-gorged koi in a murky pond, things decidedly make a turn for the worse because clearly both of them have lost their minds, and while Yuushi has no trouble accepting Atobe’s faults, Niou certainly would, and then one of them would probably wind up with a synthetic leg or something like that after a trip out of the MRI.
He hasn’t even had a chance to wipe his ass yet. Yuushi reminds Niou of this.
“But there is no exact relationship between synthetic limbs and the MRI,” Niou grumbles as he lets go of Yuushi’s shoulders.
(Fine, then. Yuushi will contract pharyngeal cancer instead. And maybe turn into a grey lemur in Madagascar and subject himself to procreation with a kangaroo while he’s at it.)
He jabs at image of the retired (and bald) Portuguese player on the pamphlet with a little desperation, “I recommend this tennis workshop. It’s a nice secluded area near the Pyrenees. Would you like to go with me this summer?”
“I thought you were going to talk to me about him.” Ryoma gives him a defiant glare, “How does Atobe tie into it at all?”
Yuushi swallows. “He doesn’t, not really. But you will regret it if you stay with him over the summer, this I can guarantee. Get away from him before you get hurt.”
The uncomprehending look slides from the younger boy’s face as he realizes what Yuushi’s trying to imply, and it’s almost instantaneously replaced by a hard expression. “I appreciate your advice, Oshitari, but don’t tell me what to do about Keigo. Especially since he isn’t even on speaking terms with you.”
(If only you knew, Yuushi thinks. If only you knew how much of an ass your Keigo could be, before having to receive firsthand experience. If only you weren’t as much of a stubborn idiot as him, but -no- both of you have to subscribe to the same shitty complex. But that’s probably why he found you more favorable than me. But this is good, this is good. I think that I am very likely to choke someone to death if I have to deal with Atobe’s problems again.)
05 impulsive
“There is something very twisted and tempting about your poo.” Niou offers by way of explanation, and this almost makes Yuushi cry out in frustration but he can’t because he’s still quite sure that his experiment had played-out wrong, the independent variables had mixed with the control group, and that the box of 26 condoms actually comes individually-wrapped, because who would want to have sex twice in Europe anyway -and in Rome, for that matter- since Italians are probably no different from the rest of the world. (But he should also take into account the back of the condom box-it was written in Spanish and he could just as well assume that the condom had come from Spain or some part of South America where God knows what people did.)
“You are starting to sound like that Ibu guy from Fudomine.” Niou says after a pause, as if it’s the worse thing in the world and probably even worse than a lifetime doomed to having shitty orgasms, “Because -one- I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about and -two- your shit smells really bad.”
“Does it?” Yuushi asks him calmly, “If so then kindly get off of me so that I can wipe my ass and flush the toilet, and then maybe we can continue this in a more sanitary environment.”
Unsurprisingly, Niou does not do what he is told. He initiates another kiss, and they that continue for good minute until Oshitari farts and Niou jumps up like his hair has been set on fire by Osakada Tomoka (or somebody random like that), curses vividly, and opens the window himself. Oshitari uses this moment to snatch at the toilet paper roll under the Vitruvian man, grabbing a wad of it and dabbing messily at his pelvic region so that at least he is no longer dripping, and before Niou can force himself on his lap again he pushes the silver-haired man out of the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
Maybe the kangaroo in Madagascar will hatch an egg.
“WHY DO I HAVE TO HANG AROUND WITH ASSHOLES ANYWAY.” he shouts into the door.
Niou’s voice bounces back a few seconds later, “BECAUSE ONLY AN ASSHOLE WOULD LOVE YOU, ASSHOLE.”
As he plops back down on top of Ryoma, Oshitari makes the ghastly discovery that in the rush of the moment, his box of condoms had fallen into the toilet. They’re soaking in, bit by bit, and the cheap European ink on the mushy cardboard is already beginning to thin.
He smells migraine. (And last night’s dinner in its latrine form.)
And once again, Oshitari is able to picture the surplus of condom wrappers littered over Atobe’s bed on that day he got back from the manga café with Mukahi. He can see, like the relief of a dark room snapped-up in the instantaneous flashbulb of a lightning storm, Atobe’s naked form sprawled all over a girl, like an oddly-jumbled climax scene out of a cheaply-shot porn video and Echizen standing, frozen like a statue outside of the door, tears running down his face.
“What I would like to know,” he had kept his voice controlled, “is why he had done it to Echizen. I was perfectly fine with him doing it to me, but he did not have to do it to the boy because he knows that, while I am capable of handling a situation like that, Echizen is definitely not. That kid had always been his mistake and an error to the equation.”
Niou had leaned across the counter of the bar disinterestedly, “Look, Oshitari, I’m glad that you can get this stuff of your chest and all, but you may want to consider redirecting your psychotic crap to someone who actually gives a fuck about your problems. And stop pretending that it hasn’t affected you a single bit, because we both know it did.”
(Echizen had gone missing that day, and to Niou’s dismay it was the first and last time he would ever get to see Oshitari Yuushi cry, and by the end of the night he had taken back his words and cared about Yuushi’s psychotic crap until the next morning, in various positions.)
06 impulsive idiot (in reaction) to impetus (it isn’t love)
He closes Ryoma’s lid and decides to worry about the soaking lubricated two-to-a-pack box of condoms at a later time. Tearing off a few more squares of Heavy Cottonelle, he wipes the rest of his bottom until it is adequately clean, then pulls up his pants (they feel icy on the skin of his thigh) and washes his hands with antibacterial soap. The bathroom mirror is skewed forward on its peg by about 23-degrees to the perpendicular of the wall against the floor, but since it’s square it only leaves an impression of geometrical irregularity-gravity and normal forces are partially balanced and the rest is all up to friction. A slam of the door and maybe some rough sex would probably knock it down, but it will probably stay there on the wall until Yuushi is free from his prison.
The window is still open when he exits the bathroom. Niou is resting comfortably on the couch, crouched like a happy, well-cared-for domestic animal (he pouts when Yuushi tells him this). They kiss again -and this time for longer- before Niou asks him where the condoms went.
“Where did you put my laptop?” Yuushi ignores him.
“Check the coffee table,” Niou wraps arms around Yuushi’s waist, “So where did the condoms go?”
“Threw them out. They’ve been past the expiration date.” Yuushi says, and opens a web browser on his computer, “I think I’ve settled the algorithm.”
Niou looks on over Yuushi’s shoulder. “What are you going to do,” he scoffs, “invent me an eHarmony profile and then send Atobe off to Online Dating 101?”
“You make me want to live in a box.” Yuushi’s reply is sardonic, leaning back into the keyboard to his email, tapping out a new message. Niou hands him a regular, individually-wrapped condom.
“We won’t forgive Atobe, will we?”
“No, we certainly will not.”
Niou flips another condom into Yuushi’s face with the air of a pet enjoying himself in a game of fetch and competitive condom-tossing. “You’re tempting me with your twisted crap again. I love you too much, Oshitari.”
“And I am very close to choking you to death.” Oshitari says flatly, “So shut up and stop waving that distracting object around.”
Niou does not stop waving that distracting object around, and makes a pout, “But I just said I love you. Can we at least cuddle?”
“Your feelings will be reciprocated tonight if you behave.” Yuushi responds coolly as he continues to type because he knows the disastrous effects of at least cuddle very well, “Maybe faster, if you stop acting on impulse. It doesn’t suit you. And for God’s sake, don’t pout; you know it doesn’t work.”
-
*end.
Thanks for reading. Reviews/comments will be replied to here, and are much-loved. Anon-posting has been turned on. =D