PoT Ficlet
Inspired by tonight's outing that involved a trip to Swensen's for ice cream.
Rating: G, bordering on PG. Mildly. Somewhat.
...y'know what, it's really perfectly harmless. Like teddy bears and pillows (when not in the hands of an active five year old with exceptional aim). =_=;; When have you ever known me to write things BEYOND the rating of G?
Cerise Baiser
The minute he grinned like that, she knew something was up. As always.
Unfortunately, just like always, she didn’t know exactly what that something was.
And the problem with him was that the something could be everything and anything under the sun provided it would cause medium level humiliation (she hadn’t seen him pull anything to cause hermitage around her… yet), hilarity or stress - most times all the aforementioned three at once and all on someone else’s expense.
The last time he looked like this, she’d ended up having to quite literally beg her group of friends not to say a word about what they’d seen on that stairway between the first and second floor. They still hadn’t forgotten what with the grins she had to endure whenever someone said the word “bento”.
He finally decided to acknowledge her severe expression. “What is it?”
“You’re grinning.”
“I wasn’t aware that was a criminal offense.”
“I mean, you’re grinning. In that way which never does any good in the end,” she continued, hands folding and brows meeting in a frown. “What’re you up to?”
“You know,” he drawled lazily, “as my girlfriend, you’re supposed to trust me.”
“But as your girlfriend, I also know you well enough to gauge when to trust you and when not to.”
He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “I’m hurt.” Inwardly, he snapped his fingers in disappointment when she didn’t relent and the frown seemed to deepen. There went his hope of her being clueless. It was one of her sharper moods today.
Oh well. No one ever said the plan had to go according to how it was drawn up on the mental blueprints in his head…
“You’re right. I am up to something. But it’s a surprise.” He met her eyes and grinned. “A surprise I think you’ll like.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Nodding, he looked down and smiled at the empty bowl. Previously, it’d held three scoops of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate topped with whipped cream and maraschino cherries, flanked by two halves of a banana. Two long handled spoons and used napkins were laid down beside it. As he recalled, she’d eaten most of the vanilla.
He picked up one of the cherries he’d saved, and then grinned as he slowly plucked the stalk from the fruit.
“Do you know what they say about French kissing?”
As expected, a slight blush sprung to her cheeks. “Not particularly.”
His grin edged wider slightly. “Apparently, if you can tie this into a knot with your tongue, you’re bound to be good at it. Very good.”
“…a cherry stalk?” She looked at him in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”
“What makes you think that?”
“For one thing, I doubt if anyone can manipulate their tongue that well.”
“Wanna bet?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He said nothing, merely smiling as he popped the stalk into his mouth and got to work. Opposite him, she blinked before shaking her head. “Do you honestly believe that story?”
A casual wave of his hands signaled that he was busy and couldn’t reply. So with a small sigh at his ridiculousness sometimes, she sat with her hand supporting her chin and looked at the other patrons of the café they were in.
It was five minutes later when he tapped the edge of the bowl with his spoon. She looked up.
And her eyes widened to see the once relatively straight cherry stalk, now having a small knot near the end on the table.
“…you… you managed to do it?!”
“It’s right there, isn’t it?” He smiled at her amazement. “What do you think?”
That you’re bound to be good at French kissing.
“Th, that your gift of the gab probably helped,” she replied, contrary to her betraying thoughts. She looked away, saying nothing more.
But he’d seen the flush on her face and he smirked - there was really no helping the girl.
“Oi, Serah.”
She turned. “Wha-”
For one fleeting moment that somehow stretched into an indeterminable amount of time, there was nothing but the faint taste of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry mixed with the mild sweetness of banana. And contrary to his expectations, it wasn’t just a one man show - it was a tango. Short admittedly, but still a tango of two.
He drew back, his mind going through what seemed to be the effect of fireworks ricocheting against his skull and brain. He also figured that his favourite flavour of ice cream might just be vanilla from now on.
Of course, if it comes with Serah, that’d be even better.
Naturally however, he didn’t voice this sentiment. Instead, he leaned back, gazed at his girlfriend’s blissfully shocked face and tried not to grin idiotically.
Then she blinked, and pressing her lips together, muttered through gritted teeth.
“We’re in a public restaurant, Niou-kun!”
“So?”
“So?! It’s… somewhat indecent.”
“Inde-”
“It’d have been better if you did it somewhere else where there’s less peo-” She stared at the face of her boyfriend who looked like he’d just won the lottery.
Then she realized she’d just given him permission to French kiss her just as long as there weren’t too many people around. Which, by his standards, was probably better.
…oh crap.
“Niou-kun, what I mean is-”
“Whatever it is, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, Serah-chan,” drawled Niou as he leaned forward and when both their eyes met, she knew he spoke the truth. He grinned and placed his hand over hers, tracing her skin with his thumb.
“But damn, Serah. I think, with practice, you might just be able to tie two knots in the stalk.”
“Niou-kun!”
End.
Disclaimer: Niou Masaharu (c) Konomi Takeshi. Serah stars as herself. 8D
I'm sorry, it's a lame ending I know. But I had fun anyway. XDD
Rating: G, bordering on PG. Mildly. Somewhat.
...y'know what, it's really perfectly harmless. Like teddy bears and pillows (when not in the hands of an active five year old with exceptional aim). =_=;; When have you ever known me to write things BEYOND the rating of G?
Cerise Baiser
The minute he grinned like that, she knew something was up. As always.
Unfortunately, just like always, she didn’t know exactly what that something was.
And the problem with him was that the something could be everything and anything under the sun provided it would cause medium level humiliation (she hadn’t seen him pull anything to cause hermitage around her… yet), hilarity or stress - most times all the aforementioned three at once and all on someone else’s expense.
The last time he looked like this, she’d ended up having to quite literally beg her group of friends not to say a word about what they’d seen on that stairway between the first and second floor. They still hadn’t forgotten what with the grins she had to endure whenever someone said the word “bento”.
He finally decided to acknowledge her severe expression. “What is it?”
“You’re grinning.”
“I wasn’t aware that was a criminal offense.”
“I mean, you’re grinning. In that way which never does any good in the end,” she continued, hands folding and brows meeting in a frown. “What’re you up to?”
“You know,” he drawled lazily, “as my girlfriend, you’re supposed to trust me.”
“But as your girlfriend, I also know you well enough to gauge when to trust you and when not to.”
He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “I’m hurt.” Inwardly, he snapped his fingers in disappointment when she didn’t relent and the frown seemed to deepen. There went his hope of her being clueless. It was one of her sharper moods today.
Oh well. No one ever said the plan had to go according to how it was drawn up on the mental blueprints in his head…
“You’re right. I am up to something. But it’s a surprise.” He met her eyes and grinned. “A surprise I think you’ll like.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Nodding, he looked down and smiled at the empty bowl. Previously, it’d held three scoops of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate topped with whipped cream and maraschino cherries, flanked by two halves of a banana. Two long handled spoons and used napkins were laid down beside it. As he recalled, she’d eaten most of the vanilla.
He picked up one of the cherries he’d saved, and then grinned as he slowly plucked the stalk from the fruit.
“Do you know what they say about French kissing?”
As expected, a slight blush sprung to her cheeks. “Not particularly.”
His grin edged wider slightly. “Apparently, if you can tie this into a knot with your tongue, you’re bound to be good at it. Very good.”
“…a cherry stalk?” She looked at him in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”
“What makes you think that?”
“For one thing, I doubt if anyone can manipulate their tongue that well.”
“Wanna bet?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He said nothing, merely smiling as he popped the stalk into his mouth and got to work. Opposite him, she blinked before shaking her head. “Do you honestly believe that story?”
A casual wave of his hands signaled that he was busy and couldn’t reply. So with a small sigh at his ridiculousness sometimes, she sat with her hand supporting her chin and looked at the other patrons of the café they were in.
It was five minutes later when he tapped the edge of the bowl with his spoon. She looked up.
And her eyes widened to see the once relatively straight cherry stalk, now having a small knot near the end on the table.
“…you… you managed to do it?!”
“It’s right there, isn’t it?” He smiled at her amazement. “What do you think?”
That you’re bound to be good at French kissing.
“Th, that your gift of the gab probably helped,” she replied, contrary to her betraying thoughts. She looked away, saying nothing more.
But he’d seen the flush on her face and he smirked - there was really no helping the girl.
“Oi, Serah.”
She turned. “Wha-”
For one fleeting moment that somehow stretched into an indeterminable amount of time, there was nothing but the faint taste of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry mixed with the mild sweetness of banana. And contrary to his expectations, it wasn’t just a one man show - it was a tango. Short admittedly, but still a tango of two.
He drew back, his mind going through what seemed to be the effect of fireworks ricocheting against his skull and brain. He also figured that his favourite flavour of ice cream might just be vanilla from now on.
Of course, if it comes with Serah, that’d be even better.
Naturally however, he didn’t voice this sentiment. Instead, he leaned back, gazed at his girlfriend’s blissfully shocked face and tried not to grin idiotically.
Then she blinked, and pressing her lips together, muttered through gritted teeth.
“We’re in a public restaurant, Niou-kun!”
“So?”
“So?! It’s… somewhat indecent.”
“Inde-”
“It’d have been better if you did it somewhere else where there’s less peo-” She stared at the face of her boyfriend who looked like he’d just won the lottery.
Then she realized she’d just given him permission to French kiss her just as long as there weren’t too many people around. Which, by his standards, was probably better.
…oh crap.
“Niou-kun, what I mean is-”
“Whatever it is, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, Serah-chan,” drawled Niou as he leaned forward and when both their eyes met, she knew he spoke the truth. He grinned and placed his hand over hers, tracing her skin with his thumb.
“But damn, Serah. I think, with practice, you might just be able to tie two knots in the stalk.”
“Niou-kun!”
End.
Disclaimer: Niou Masaharu (c) Konomi Takeshi. Serah stars as herself. 8D
I'm sorry, it's a lame ending I know. But I had fun anyway. XDD