Synthesis [Nabari no Ou, Miharu/Yoite, M]
Title: Synthesis
Author/Artist: Lin ( littlelinor )
Rating: M
Warnings: The prompt should make it pretty obvious, but intersexuality. And shota. And sex, but that's pretty obvious by now. No intercourse though.
Word count: 1175
Summary: Miharu won't let this go, because this is crucial for both of them.
A/N: This isn't QUITE hermaphrodism, but considering I'm a science freak, I went and researched everything I could on the subject to make this a bit realistic. So yeah, enjoy IS!Yoite <3
Original prompt: Nabari no Ou, Miharu/Yoite: hermaphrodism - It doesn't disgust you. How can it? It's just another part of him.
Synthesis
It nearly stops him, the fear in those eyes, but they've been through too much, and they've gone too far already, and he feels that if he stops now there will never be anything else.
There's something wrong, he knows, that Yoite is trying to hide. He's gathered it from the way the other boy drinks in his caresses but pulls back whenever his hands reach lower or the embrace is a bit too intimate, from the way Yoite always hides his body even though its state is no news to Miharu, and from the glances Kazuho has been giving him ever since she caught up on what was happening.
She'd wanted to tell him something at one point, it seemed -she'd come and started talking as if nothing was up, then switched the subject after some time, You know, Yoite… ah well, you'll find out for yourself. I don't want him killing me.
Thus he had pushed, little by little, at Yoite's barriers, just like he had up to now, but this one seemed to be higher, stronger, the poles thrust deeper into the ground, and his attempts to weasel through holes were vain, because whenever he glimpsed one Yoite would turn up with a metaphorical board, nail and hammer and close the crack, nailing it watertight. It was a vicious circle, and one Miharu resented, because every try to edge closer would make Yoite jump farther, and he couldn't afford that, not when so much of his well-being and peace of mind depended on the older boy, his presence and his closeness.
He might be a ninja, but Miharu knows that when sneaking by won't work, the only way is to force your way through.
It's been half an hour already, of kissing and caressing and adding pressure and intent with each touch, slowing down when necessary but never letting go or going back. Yoite is alternating between relaxation, abandon and sudden wariness, and Miharu has to balance it all, but it's so worth it, for the catching of breath and the way Yoite's voice suddenly sounds alive, for his usually stiff body undulating, for the hunger he is slowly cultivating in the other's eyes, first embers then flames, burning through the apathy. Half an hour of planning and preparing, and he feels just a little guilty for this and his manipulative nature, but this is important, both for him and for Yoite, he knows, and he's not about to let things drop.
Instead, it's his hand he drops to Yoite's waist, sneaking fingers under his trousers and against the side of his hip.
Yoite tenses instantly, and for one second Miharu fears he's gone too far, too soon, and broken everything he's prepared and worked for, but there is slight hesitation in Yoite's eyes rather than plain rejection, and he feels a sliver of hope.
"Miharu, no…"
"Why not?" What have you to hide from me, when you know I would accept anything, but he doesn't say it, because he's never been one for long sentences, and Yoite is rarely one to be reached by words.
"It's… I'm…" No stuttering, but definite hesitation, a long pause between each word, and eyes more hesitant than ever.
Miharu edges closer, to force the closeness and make Yoite react, sneaks himself between the other's legs, and-
Oh.
Oh.
His mind starts rushing to bring together informations, memories, piecing together everything to build the final picture, this crucial information: it's there that he tries to hide, there's something that should be there and isn't.
No hardness pushing at tight fabric where his legs have nested between Yoite's own, and it's this that he's been keeping from him, trying to hide. Miharu could nearly laugh at the absurdity of it, but again, he's not really a laughing type, and even if it's irrelevant, it's still a surprising enough fact that it takes him several seconds to take it in stride.
He smiles then, brings his face to Yoite's neck, and hums as he reaches lower, undoing buttons with his other hand. He'd have reprimanded the other for being such an idiot, but this isn't the time and place -he has to show him through actions that his fear was unfounded, because words rarely reach Yoite and it's so easy to make them say the opposite of what you want.
Yoite is trembling, but he isn't moving or pushing Miharu away, as if the smile against his skin had told him that there was nothing to hide anymore. He seems to know that Miharu has found out, and he's waiting for the rebuke, the shudder or the disgusted look. It doesn't come. Miharu's fingers edge further down, around to the front, past a soft brush of hair, and over a now-hard organ that is too small to be a male's and too big to be a female's, but that doesn't really surprise him because honestly, when has Yoite ever been like everyone else? His fingers circle and caress and Yoite breathes in sharply, tightening his hold on Miharu's shoulder and waist. His face is still breathing silent reassurance against Yoite's neck, but his fingers see for him, and he explores, taking in the feel and texture, size and heat, the differences with his own -it's his only reference, did Yoite really expect him to be experienced and rebuke him in the face of previous sights?- measures reactions more than length, the way Yoite still reacts so sharply when he is touched -it had been his only fear when he realized- and it makes him feel so warm, burning with protective tenderness.
Yoite is still not running away.
It means so much. Thinking back this was probably one of the things that drove him away from what normal life he could have had in another reality, and by the way he is still trembling in fear through his pleasure it's very likely, but all Yoite is doing is clinging to him. He lets Miharu explore, and it means everything.
Miharu is all but vibrating with at last, and his fingers edge slowly lower, fingertips still caressing what he decides qualifies as a penis before twisting to follow the rest of his hand down, into folds and softness, a warm hollow that contracts slightly when his fingers ease mere millimetres inside-
"Miharu…"
The voice is curtained by too much air, but it's surprised, needy, somewhat desperate, alive, and Miharu leaves a kiss against his neck before backing his head a bit and staring at his face. There's more colour in Yoite than he has ever seen, and it's pinks and reds instead of that frightful bluish grey, and his own body is starting to remind him that it exists but seeing Yoite like this is priceless in every sense of the word and he reaches up to kiss him, fingers reaching further and making him gasp.
There will be time for more later. For now, Yoite is finally losing control and for Miharu it's the only thing that matters.
Author/Artist: Lin ( littlelinor )
Rating: M
Warnings: The prompt should make it pretty obvious, but intersexuality. And shota. And sex, but that's pretty obvious by now. No intercourse though.
Word count: 1175
Summary: Miharu won't let this go, because this is crucial for both of them.
A/N: This isn't QUITE hermaphrodism, but considering I'm a science freak, I went and researched everything I could on the subject to make this a bit realistic. So yeah, enjoy IS!Yoite <3
Original prompt: Nabari no Ou, Miharu/Yoite: hermaphrodism - It doesn't disgust you. How can it? It's just another part of him.
Synthesis
It nearly stops him, the fear in those eyes, but they've been through too much, and they've gone too far already, and he feels that if he stops now there will never be anything else.
There's something wrong, he knows, that Yoite is trying to hide. He's gathered it from the way the other boy drinks in his caresses but pulls back whenever his hands reach lower or the embrace is a bit too intimate, from the way Yoite always hides his body even though its state is no news to Miharu, and from the glances Kazuho has been giving him ever since she caught up on what was happening.
She'd wanted to tell him something at one point, it seemed -she'd come and started talking as if nothing was up, then switched the subject after some time, You know, Yoite… ah well, you'll find out for yourself. I don't want him killing me.
Thus he had pushed, little by little, at Yoite's barriers, just like he had up to now, but this one seemed to be higher, stronger, the poles thrust deeper into the ground, and his attempts to weasel through holes were vain, because whenever he glimpsed one Yoite would turn up with a metaphorical board, nail and hammer and close the crack, nailing it watertight. It was a vicious circle, and one Miharu resented, because every try to edge closer would make Yoite jump farther, and he couldn't afford that, not when so much of his well-being and peace of mind depended on the older boy, his presence and his closeness.
He might be a ninja, but Miharu knows that when sneaking by won't work, the only way is to force your way through.
It's been half an hour already, of kissing and caressing and adding pressure and intent with each touch, slowing down when necessary but never letting go or going back. Yoite is alternating between relaxation, abandon and sudden wariness, and Miharu has to balance it all, but it's so worth it, for the catching of breath and the way Yoite's voice suddenly sounds alive, for his usually stiff body undulating, for the hunger he is slowly cultivating in the other's eyes, first embers then flames, burning through the apathy. Half an hour of planning and preparing, and he feels just a little guilty for this and his manipulative nature, but this is important, both for him and for Yoite, he knows, and he's not about to let things drop.
Instead, it's his hand he drops to Yoite's waist, sneaking fingers under his trousers and against the side of his hip.
Yoite tenses instantly, and for one second Miharu fears he's gone too far, too soon, and broken everything he's prepared and worked for, but there is slight hesitation in Yoite's eyes rather than plain rejection, and he feels a sliver of hope.
"Miharu, no…"
"Why not?" What have you to hide from me, when you know I would accept anything, but he doesn't say it, because he's never been one for long sentences, and Yoite is rarely one to be reached by words.
"It's… I'm…" No stuttering, but definite hesitation, a long pause between each word, and eyes more hesitant than ever.
Miharu edges closer, to force the closeness and make Yoite react, sneaks himself between the other's legs, and-
Oh.
Oh.
His mind starts rushing to bring together informations, memories, piecing together everything to build the final picture, this crucial information: it's there that he tries to hide, there's something that should be there and isn't.
No hardness pushing at tight fabric where his legs have nested between Yoite's own, and it's this that he's been keeping from him, trying to hide. Miharu could nearly laugh at the absurdity of it, but again, he's not really a laughing type, and even if it's irrelevant, it's still a surprising enough fact that it takes him several seconds to take it in stride.
He smiles then, brings his face to Yoite's neck, and hums as he reaches lower, undoing buttons with his other hand. He'd have reprimanded the other for being such an idiot, but this isn't the time and place -he has to show him through actions that his fear was unfounded, because words rarely reach Yoite and it's so easy to make them say the opposite of what you want.
Yoite is trembling, but he isn't moving or pushing Miharu away, as if the smile against his skin had told him that there was nothing to hide anymore. He seems to know that Miharu has found out, and he's waiting for the rebuke, the shudder or the disgusted look. It doesn't come. Miharu's fingers edge further down, around to the front, past a soft brush of hair, and over a now-hard organ that is too small to be a male's and too big to be a female's, but that doesn't really surprise him because honestly, when has Yoite ever been like everyone else? His fingers circle and caress and Yoite breathes in sharply, tightening his hold on Miharu's shoulder and waist. His face is still breathing silent reassurance against Yoite's neck, but his fingers see for him, and he explores, taking in the feel and texture, size and heat, the differences with his own -it's his only reference, did Yoite really expect him to be experienced and rebuke him in the face of previous sights?- measures reactions more than length, the way Yoite still reacts so sharply when he is touched -it had been his only fear when he realized- and it makes him feel so warm, burning with protective tenderness.
Yoite is still not running away.
It means so much. Thinking back this was probably one of the things that drove him away from what normal life he could have had in another reality, and by the way he is still trembling in fear through his pleasure it's very likely, but all Yoite is doing is clinging to him. He lets Miharu explore, and it means everything.
Miharu is all but vibrating with at last, and his fingers edge slowly lower, fingertips still caressing what he decides qualifies as a penis before twisting to follow the rest of his hand down, into folds and softness, a warm hollow that contracts slightly when his fingers ease mere millimetres inside-
"Miharu…"
The voice is curtained by too much air, but it's surprised, needy, somewhat desperate, alive, and Miharu leaves a kiss against his neck before backing his head a bit and staring at his face. There's more colour in Yoite than he has ever seen, and it's pinks and reds instead of that frightful bluish grey, and his own body is starting to remind him that it exists but seeing Yoite like this is priceless in every sense of the word and he reaches up to kiss him, fingers reaching further and making him gasp.
There will be time for more later. For now, Yoite is finally losing control and for Miharu it's the only thing that matters.