Hyoutei Roommates: Coping Methods Anticanon: Arienai (Impossible)
Title: Arienai (Impossible)
Pairing: HiyoMari
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG... though the topic might break your brain
Disclaimer: not... mine...
For: kazeko and lainex. Because you two have had me on Cloud Nine since I read the comments to Keganin
Notes: *hyperventilates* ...pretty fanart... must write... *cough* Not anything even approaching canon, and it might be one of the shortest things I've ever written.
Arienai (Impossible)
This position could not have possibly been more awkward, and for the life of her, Mari didn’t know why she’d agreed to it, or whether or not she’d agreed to it at all. After all, it was, what, five steps around the desk? A hop and a skip for her, and just a hop for him, if one of them had decided to just vault the damned thing?
All her practicality, however, had leaked out of her ears when Hiyoshi’d reached over the table and rested his fingertips on her lower lip, halfway through her explanation of the relationship between the preterite perfect and the conditional tense.
No, that wasn’t quite right-a lot of her sensibleness had, indeed, gone the way of the dinosaur when he’d rested his fingertips on her lower lip, calluses a rasp that she felt all the way down her spine… the gods only knew she’d stopped talking, halfway through the word ‘would.’ Still, there had been this lingering sensation of “hey, we’re in school” and “hey, he really does have to pass this test” and “hey, ‘wuh’ is not a word” wagging its finger at her from the back of her mind.
And then he’d smiled that crooked-edged smile, and every ounce of common sense she had had fled screaming, right out the window, like it was being chased by an angry Kabaji.
Bloody unreliable, that vaunted practicality of hers.
Half-lying across the table with her hands still tucked under it, Mari found, was quite uncomfortable. Her once-neat pile of papers was now definitely no longer neat. Her breasts were being squashed by her weight against the table’s edge in a way that ached more than she’d imagined it would, and unless she somehow managed to disarticulate her neck, she wouldn’t be able to keep her cheek dangling an inch or so off the table much longer before her back gave out.
With him being so much taller than she was, the only way he could meet her halfway was to sort of hunch over his end of the table in a way that didn’t look terribly natural, and Atobe was going to be awfully pissed at her if he threw out his shoulder, leaning on it the way he was. Their lips could barely brush at this clumsy angle, tiny and fleeting and fundamentally unsatisfying-not even his sense of coordination and all the tilting in the world could change the fact that he and she both had noses, and noses just weren’t meant to get around chins.
This was, she thought, not a good kiss.
And if it had been her world to run…
Taira Mari wouldn’t have changed a thing about it.
~owari~
June 21, 2007
I'm still hyperventilating from the sudden influx of gorgeous fanart. So first I opened up lainex' picture of Mari being studious and smart, I was like, "Oh, wow, she's pretty! And she looks like she's teaching something!" And then I just about fell off my chair when I opened up kazeko's "The Kiss," because... well, hellfires! It's Hiyoshi and Mari! Kissing! Over a desk! Gah, it was like "before" and "after" shots!
How could the two of you draw such amazing things and expect me not to write it, canon and storylines and plot be damned?! *still fangirling wildly*
Trust me, my mum must think I'm an idiot. First a squeal that echoed all the way around the house, then the way I kept staring at the desk, typing, and leaning over the desk, and then sitting up to stare at it again...
Pairing: HiyoMari
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG... though the topic might break your brain
Disclaimer: not... mine...
For: kazeko and lainex. Because you two have had me on Cloud Nine since I read the comments to Keganin
Notes: *hyperventilates* ...pretty fanart... must write... *cough* Not anything even approaching canon, and it might be one of the shortest things I've ever written.
Arienai (Impossible)
This position could not have possibly been more awkward, and for the life of her, Mari didn’t know why she’d agreed to it, or whether or not she’d agreed to it at all. After all, it was, what, five steps around the desk? A hop and a skip for her, and just a hop for him, if one of them had decided to just vault the damned thing?
All her practicality, however, had leaked out of her ears when Hiyoshi’d reached over the table and rested his fingertips on her lower lip, halfway through her explanation of the relationship between the preterite perfect and the conditional tense.
No, that wasn’t quite right-a lot of her sensibleness had, indeed, gone the way of the dinosaur when he’d rested his fingertips on her lower lip, calluses a rasp that she felt all the way down her spine… the gods only knew she’d stopped talking, halfway through the word ‘would.’ Still, there had been this lingering sensation of “hey, we’re in school” and “hey, he really does have to pass this test” and “hey, ‘wuh’ is not a word” wagging its finger at her from the back of her mind.
And then he’d smiled that crooked-edged smile, and every ounce of common sense she had had fled screaming, right out the window, like it was being chased by an angry Kabaji.
Bloody unreliable, that vaunted practicality of hers.
Half-lying across the table with her hands still tucked under it, Mari found, was quite uncomfortable. Her once-neat pile of papers was now definitely no longer neat. Her breasts were being squashed by her weight against the table’s edge in a way that ached more than she’d imagined it would, and unless she somehow managed to disarticulate her neck, she wouldn’t be able to keep her cheek dangling an inch or so off the table much longer before her back gave out.
With him being so much taller than she was, the only way he could meet her halfway was to sort of hunch over his end of the table in a way that didn’t look terribly natural, and Atobe was going to be awfully pissed at her if he threw out his shoulder, leaning on it the way he was. Their lips could barely brush at this clumsy angle, tiny and fleeting and fundamentally unsatisfying-not even his sense of coordination and all the tilting in the world could change the fact that he and she both had noses, and noses just weren’t meant to get around chins.
This was, she thought, not a good kiss.
And if it had been her world to run…
Taira Mari wouldn’t have changed a thing about it.
~owari~
June 21, 2007
I'm still hyperventilating from the sudden influx of gorgeous fanart. So first I opened up lainex' picture of Mari being studious and smart, I was like, "Oh, wow, she's pretty! And she looks like she's teaching something!" And then I just about fell off my chair when I opened up kazeko's "The Kiss," because... well, hellfires! It's Hiyoshi and Mari! Kissing! Over a desk! Gah, it was like "before" and "after" shots!
How could the two of you draw such amazing things and expect me not to write it, canon and storylines and plot be damned?! *still fangirling wildly*
Trust me, my mum must think I'm an idiot. First a squeal that echoed all the way around the house, then the way I kept staring at the desk, typing, and leaning over the desk, and then sitting up to stare at it again...