fanfic100 034 - Not Enough. 「Hanazakari no Kimitachi e; Shin/Mizuki」
Title: Stroke
Rated: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, slight citrus for masturbation.
Fandom: Hanazakari no Kimitachi e
Challenge: fanfic100
Prompt: 034 - Not Enough.
Spoilers: Nothing specific, unless you count Shin’s existence.
Pairings: Sano Shin + Ashiya Mizuki
Summary: Sticky sheets and a brother’s guilt.
Author's Notes: Way shorter than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t want to change the flow I had going, so I’m satisfied (even as I’m not). I kind of imagine this being set before it was revealed that Mizuki was a girl, so…Shin-kun definitely still thinks she’s a he. You can imagine otherwise, if you so wish, though. XP
Disclaimer: All things Hanazakari no Kimitachi e belong to Hisaya Nakajo. All that the Grassy can lay claim to is the plot.
A touch. Slip and slide, up and down, slick to the touch.
A gasp. Soft, so soft, and barely audible.
A pant. Desperate and full of need.
A moan. Quiet, quiet…can’t be too loud.
A bliss-filled moment. An eternal instant with no thought or feeling but pleasure.
A flash of guilt. Followed by the gut-wrenching heat of shame.
A need to forget. Ignoring the wet and sticky sheets surrounding him.
A breath. Ragged and deep and long.
A whisper. No name, don’t ever say the name.
A sigh. Stupid, so stupid and hopeless.
A sob. Can’t have, can’t ever have.
The End
Rated: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, slight citrus for masturbation.
Fandom: Hanazakari no Kimitachi e
Challenge: fanfic100
Prompt: 034 - Not Enough.
Spoilers: Nothing specific, unless you count Shin’s existence.
Pairings: Sano Shin + Ashiya Mizuki
Summary: Sticky sheets and a brother’s guilt.
Author's Notes: Way shorter than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t want to change the flow I had going, so I’m satisfied (even as I’m not). I kind of imagine this being set before it was revealed that Mizuki was a girl, so…Shin-kun definitely still thinks she’s a he. You can imagine otherwise, if you so wish, though. XP
Disclaimer: All things Hanazakari no Kimitachi e belong to Hisaya Nakajo. All that the Grassy can lay claim to is the plot.
A touch. Slip and slide, up and down, slick to the touch.
A gasp. Soft, so soft, and barely audible.
A pant. Desperate and full of need.
A moan. Quiet, quiet…can’t be too loud.
A bliss-filled moment. An eternal instant with no thought or feeling but pleasure.
A flash of guilt. Followed by the gut-wrenching heat of shame.
A need to forget. Ignoring the wet and sticky sheets surrounding him.
A breath. Ragged and deep and long.
A whisper. No name, don’t ever say the name.
A sigh. Stupid, so stupid and hopeless.
A sob. Can’t have, can’t ever have.
The End