[FIC][07-Ghost] there is no title, sorry
IN HONOR OF US GETTING A KONATSU since last night night the apper told me to write porn, but I can only sometimes pull of writing porn -- there's this instead. |D I like having a writer for a character, it means I can put everything here.
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What no one dares say to his face, but whisper endlessly behind his back, are the uglier rumors. He's worthless as a warsfeil, passable as a swordsman; there is nothing but determination that forces him onward. So how else could he have grabbed the attention of the Lieutennant Commander? He has a pretty face, after all.
The man himself just laughs it off. "Konatsu, they're only jealous!" he says. He drapes a broad arm over Konatsu's shoulders, the weight of him close and warm. His breath smells like cheap apple candy. "They said that about me and Aya-tan once upon a time, you know? It's funny!"
He tries very hard not to twitch. "Sir," he says. "It isn't funny -- it's your reputation, here! If they think that of you, then--"
"Wow~" says Hyuuga; he pushes his sunglasses up his nose with a finger. "You're all red, Konatsu! How cute!"
"Lieutennant, please," he says, exasperated, "can't you just take this serious--"
It takes him a ridiculously long moment to realize he's being kissed. Certain things are impossible to prepare for, the first time, no matter how much warning one gets -- and he had none. He finds himself thinking, absurdly, that the Lieutennant Commander's lips are surprisingly soft -- the softest part of him, perhaps -- but he kisses like he kills: hard and fast and skilled enough to make the breath stick in his throat. Konatsu makes a strangled noise that gets swallowed by Hyuuga's mouth, and then he's free.
"It's a good start," says Hyuuga, and claps a hand on Konatsu's back; he looks utterly calm -- he's not even pink. Konatsu, on the other hand, thinks his face might simply char off from the force of his blush. "Practice hard, Ko~na~tsu~"
He leaves then, with a wave and a laugh, and Konatsu is so flustered that it takes him nearly five minutes to realize Hyuuga's left without doing a single sheet of paperwork.
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What no one dares say to his face, but whisper endlessly behind his back, are the uglier rumors. He's worthless as a warsfeil, passable as a swordsman; there is nothing but determination that forces him onward. So how else could he have grabbed the attention of the Lieutennant Commander? He has a pretty face, after all.
The man himself just laughs it off. "Konatsu, they're only jealous!" he says. He drapes a broad arm over Konatsu's shoulders, the weight of him close and warm. His breath smells like cheap apple candy. "They said that about me and Aya-tan once upon a time, you know? It's funny!"
He tries very hard not to twitch. "Sir," he says. "It isn't funny -- it's your reputation, here! If they think that of you, then--"
"Wow~" says Hyuuga; he pushes his sunglasses up his nose with a finger. "You're all red, Konatsu! How cute!"
"Lieutennant, please," he says, exasperated, "can't you just take this serious--"
It takes him a ridiculously long moment to realize he's being kissed. Certain things are impossible to prepare for, the first time, no matter how much warning one gets -- and he had none. He finds himself thinking, absurdly, that the Lieutennant Commander's lips are surprisingly soft -- the softest part of him, perhaps -- but he kisses like he kills: hard and fast and skilled enough to make the breath stick in his throat. Konatsu makes a strangled noise that gets swallowed by Hyuuga's mouth, and then he's free.
"It's a good start," says Hyuuga, and claps a hand on Konatsu's back; he looks utterly calm -- he's not even pink. Konatsu, on the other hand, thinks his face might simply char off from the force of his blush. "Practice hard, Ko~na~tsu~"
He leaves then, with a wave and a laugh, and Konatsu is so flustered that it takes him nearly five minutes to realize Hyuuga's left without doing a single sheet of paperwork.