#31 Theme 47: Sweet Romance - Raphael; Tora/Hiroto
Title: Morning After
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 047 Sweet Romance (Raphael)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: fluff, crackish, fail!Tora
Comments: Tora can’t seem to act normal with Hiroto lurking in his personal bubble.
Morning After
In the morning Hiroto woke to the sound of birds bickering atop spiny tree branches, sun shining a shock of golden light into Tora's bedroom that glared even beneath his heavy eyelids. He could barely breathe though, hot under the covers with a heavy weight on his chest. Groaning he pushed at it, surprisingly receiving enough give to heave a contented sigh and snuggle back down.
The warmth completely ceased.
Confused, Hiroto felt blindly to the left for the warm blankets he was apparently missing only for his fingers to meet warm skin. Compromising for the right, his hand slid across the same predicament.
Hiroto's eyes snapped open. He'd fallen asleep with only one person right? There weren't more were there?
Low chuckling from above answered his groggy questions.
"What's the matter babe, confused?"
It wasn't two bodies but two thighs straddling either side of him.
If Hiroto could have thought to be embarrassed, his face would have turned cherry red. But instead he just stared, stared at the sinewy line of muscles, curved collarbone, dips and round-sharp edges that disappeared into shadows beneath the missing blanket, meeting where his own too-warm thighs stiffened and nervous toes twitched. All he could smell was Tora, everywhere Tora, and he blinked, confused, remembering, suddenly mortified by the intimate position.
And hot. So hot.
“Awww, shy?” Tora cooed, voice rough from sleep, tender and suave. Leaning in he nuzzled at the other’s nose, eliciting a reluctant sigh from his captive and an adorable blush that made him smirk.
"Y-You're embarrassing me," the smaller man breathed, teeth biting stutter-swollen lips and shy hands trying to push Tora away.
Snorting at his bed stand, Tora dearly wished the daydream was true.
He'd prefer an endearingly shy Pon over his own embarrassment any day. At least when the smaller man did it he looked cute. When Tora was the flustered awkward one he just looked stupid.
For the third time that morning he was tempted to make up another lame excuse to get out of bed and far away from his flat, work or something, but he knew it'd be a terribly executed lie - they had the same job for starters. Instead of trying to leave under the pretense of a full bladder again, Tora shifted the bundle in his lap, wishing Hiroto wasn't so damn comfortable with this because he wasn’t and his nerves were practically itching beneath his skin.
Tora was trying to play it cool.
And Hiroto most certainly wasn't helping.
Tora was trying to play it cool and it was going to make Hiroto laugh. Most definitely. That's how it worked didn't it?
On the television the local news chalked up the night’s crimes and morning’s miracles and Tora cursed the day he ever thought it would be a good idea to install a flat screen in his bedroom. Fucking late night dramas and addictive marathons, now he was stuck here. He cringed as Hiroto burrowed his butt into a more comfortable position between Tora’s widespread legs.
He was trying to act like it was no big deal having Hiroto here in this intimate position, sitting happily against a broad chest; Tora was a total player and this totally happened all the time, for sure. At least they both had their briefs on, he thought wryly. Either way, Tora’s feet were dead giveaways, fidgeting nervously back and forth where they sat splayed out on either side of the younger man. His hands too. Tora sure as hell didn't know what to do with those. His one tattooed hand was curled into a loose half-fist inevitably near the curve of Hiroto's hips that was pressed companionably against his inner thigh. Not grabbing, barely even resting, it sort of just hovered there indecisively. Not awkward for him at all. Luckily at least, Hiroto was curled up to one side so Tora’s other hand was free to lay as uselessly on the sheets as it wanted.
Touching the bare skin presented so prettily before him seemed too oddly sexual and much too tempting for the completely innocent situation. As innocent as waking up the morning after, half naked and lazy on the bed, could be. They were watching TV in nothing but their underwear and he wanted to be able to think about something other than sex, but Hiroto was so close, warm hips and bare thighs between his spread legs even, and Tora’s mind was all over the place. He felt too exposed, too unprepared for this situation when fucking usually meant the other person left after they’d finished. But he hadn’t wanted Hiroto to leave. Now Tora was pretty sure his normally cool façade was seconds away from going up in flames of stupidity. For what, he didn’t know, but it was sure to happen.
“Mmmm,” Hiroto hummed, snuggling up into the crook of Tora’s neck for the commercial break. “Want to change the channel?”
Blinking stupidly at the remote near his knee, Tora shifted around a bit and managed to grab the thin device and change the channel without touching more foreign limbs than necessary. He was however, rather pleased when familiar scenes from the first Spiderman movie flashed onto the screen. That meant he could oh so cool and nonchalantly smack the smaller man’s side and tickle, rough fingers sliding sporadically across smooth skin.
“Look. Your favorite.”
Tora secretly wanted to touch, wanted to feel and remember, but he didn’t want Hiroto thinking all he had was dick for brains.
Perking up at the sight of webbed red and scaly blue, and jerking slightly away from the prodding fingers, Hiroto lifted his head off Tora’s shoulder. The other man almost hoped he would crawl away to the edge of the bed for a better view - more personal space for them both - but Hiroto simply flopped onto his side, head in the sheets and waist curving perfectly to the top of Tora’s thigh. In his opinion, the best way to enjoy his favorite superhero in action.
It was irritatingly hard for Tora to ignore the way Hiroto felt under his fingertips, the heat of another body pressed to his front, and he silently berated himself for the added torture of stealing a second touch. Unconsciously, his feet started wagging again, nervous movements upsetting Hiroto’s view of the screen and making the square pixels shaky amongst the sheets.
“Tora,” Hiroto chastised, slapping a hand to the larger man’s belly. He didn’t feel it, but the muscles there clenched in shock. It wasn’t until Tora’s leg finished twitching that he thankfully curled his arms back into a makeshift headrest and kept his hands to himself.
Guilty of jumpiness but refusing to acknowledge the surprised reddening tips of his ears, Tora’s awkwardness decided to blaze brand new trails of stupidity.
“Hiroto.”
The other was wise enough not to tear his eyes away from the screen, too captivated by the heavy action to spare the other’s goofy voice a glance.
“Pon look.”
“What are you doing?” The battle against Green Goblin was getting pretty intense.
“Pon.”
Like a mother humoring her child, Hiroto twisted a bit so his back was on Tora’s thigh and he could see whatever it was the supposedly older, more mature man was doing.
He snorted.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Then turned back to the television.
Pouting, Tora dropped the fish face, letting his hollow cheeks flatten back to their normal state and releasing the corners of his lips between jagged teeth. Fun-killer. And he was back to being the stupid fool, yet again.
Rolling his eyes when Tora tried to bump him off his lap a second time, Hiroto reached up and tangled a hand into silky black hair. Tugging, he was able to startle Tora down and into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, tongue swiping into a surprised mouth before the larger man was bodily pushing him away over onto his own share of covers.
“I… What the fuck?!” Tora tried to play it off with another ridiculous pout, “I’m trying to watch TV here!” feet kicking freely at Hiroto’s ass now that he no longer had the burdensome warmth in his lap. “Freak.”
The younger man only laughed and rolled away onto his belly, stretching like a content kitty and sticking his tongue out childishly.
Huffing, Tora threw his legs off the side of the bed to go and get coffee, scampering away like a grade school child after turning the TV off behind him.
“HEY!” Hiroto called down the hallway. “That was the best part!”
Snickering to himself, Tora started a pot of java and pulled out two mugs, cream and sugar. Why it was Hiroto, the fucking squirrel, of all people could make him feel so flustered and unimpressive he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to let this slip damn it! Hiroto looked too annoyingly enticing in his damn underwear and he was supposed to be the cute innocent one! But then his string ankle bracelet tied to one leg had Tora’s mind straying away to much more deviant thoughtss. Coughing and pushing those ideas into the backburner, he wandered back towards the bedroom where the stereo screeching sounds of metal and whooshing fire were once again blaring from his speakers.
“I’m making coffeeeee!” Tora punctuated his announcement by flying onto the bed, both hands coming down to land a firm smack and full on grab of Hiroto’s derrière. Smooth. Very smooth.
It would’ve been funny - maybe even ruffle Hiroto’s calm demeanor into squawking - if the force of Tora’s jump and slide hadn’t popped the fitted bed sheets clean off the mattress, elastics slipping off corners and sending the two of them tumbling to the floor, pillows, blankets, and all.
“Oww… shit…”
Soft moans sounded, muffled amongst stuffed duvet and linen sheets, and Tora realized his elbow really wasn’t sinking into a warm pillow after all.
“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, sitting back on his knees to survey the damage and give Hiroto room to breathe. The bed was a mess and the smaller man was curled in on himself, hugging his tummy in a pile of bedding and glaring sullenly at Tora.
“Jerk,” he pouted, pointing an accusing toe at the other.
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Tora soothed, sneaking a hand between crossed arms to rub at a bruised belly.
“Well stop acting weird. I already let you fuck me, you don’t have to try and act all cool to get in my pants again,” Hiroto snorted, lips twitching at the thunderstruck look on the other’s face.
Tora thought he was so sly, acting all manly and cool and like such a dude. It hadn't worked the first time and it certainly wasn't fooling anyone this time. And Hiroto certainly didn’t need any pretenses to be reeled in or to convince him that Tora really was a good guy.
Granted it was amusing to watch him blush and try, but Tora was impressive all on his own.
And a good fuck too, for what it was worth.
A/N:
The End lol. Oh Tora. Why do we put up with you?
I’ve been... not feeling so good so this cheered me up a bit :) Comments = ♥
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 047 Sweet Romance (Raphael)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: fluff, crackish, fail!Tora
Comments: Tora can’t seem to act normal with Hiroto lurking in his personal bubble.
Morning After
In the morning Hiroto woke to the sound of birds bickering atop spiny tree branches, sun shining a shock of golden light into Tora's bedroom that glared even beneath his heavy eyelids. He could barely breathe though, hot under the covers with a heavy weight on his chest. Groaning he pushed at it, surprisingly receiving enough give to heave a contented sigh and snuggle back down.
The warmth completely ceased.
Confused, Hiroto felt blindly to the left for the warm blankets he was apparently missing only for his fingers to meet warm skin. Compromising for the right, his hand slid across the same predicament.
Hiroto's eyes snapped open. He'd fallen asleep with only one person right? There weren't more were there?
Low chuckling from above answered his groggy questions.
"What's the matter babe, confused?"
It wasn't two bodies but two thighs straddling either side of him.
If Hiroto could have thought to be embarrassed, his face would have turned cherry red. But instead he just stared, stared at the sinewy line of muscles, curved collarbone, dips and round-sharp edges that disappeared into shadows beneath the missing blanket, meeting where his own too-warm thighs stiffened and nervous toes twitched. All he could smell was Tora, everywhere Tora, and he blinked, confused, remembering, suddenly mortified by the intimate position.
And hot. So hot.
“Awww, shy?” Tora cooed, voice rough from sleep, tender and suave. Leaning in he nuzzled at the other’s nose, eliciting a reluctant sigh from his captive and an adorable blush that made him smirk.
"Y-You're embarrassing me," the smaller man breathed, teeth biting stutter-swollen lips and shy hands trying to push Tora away.
Snorting at his bed stand, Tora dearly wished the daydream was true.
He'd prefer an endearingly shy Pon over his own embarrassment any day. At least when the smaller man did it he looked cute. When Tora was the flustered awkward one he just looked stupid.
For the third time that morning he was tempted to make up another lame excuse to get out of bed and far away from his flat, work or something, but he knew it'd be a terribly executed lie - they had the same job for starters. Instead of trying to leave under the pretense of a full bladder again, Tora shifted the bundle in his lap, wishing Hiroto wasn't so damn comfortable with this because he wasn’t and his nerves were practically itching beneath his skin.
Tora was trying to play it cool.
And Hiroto most certainly wasn't helping.
Tora was trying to play it cool and it was going to make Hiroto laugh. Most definitely. That's how it worked didn't it?
On the television the local news chalked up the night’s crimes and morning’s miracles and Tora cursed the day he ever thought it would be a good idea to install a flat screen in his bedroom. Fucking late night dramas and addictive marathons, now he was stuck here. He cringed as Hiroto burrowed his butt into a more comfortable position between Tora’s widespread legs.
He was trying to act like it was no big deal having Hiroto here in this intimate position, sitting happily against a broad chest; Tora was a total player and this totally happened all the time, for sure. At least they both had their briefs on, he thought wryly. Either way, Tora’s feet were dead giveaways, fidgeting nervously back and forth where they sat splayed out on either side of the younger man. His hands too. Tora sure as hell didn't know what to do with those. His one tattooed hand was curled into a loose half-fist inevitably near the curve of Hiroto's hips that was pressed companionably against his inner thigh. Not grabbing, barely even resting, it sort of just hovered there indecisively. Not awkward for him at all. Luckily at least, Hiroto was curled up to one side so Tora’s other hand was free to lay as uselessly on the sheets as it wanted.
Touching the bare skin presented so prettily before him seemed too oddly sexual and much too tempting for the completely innocent situation. As innocent as waking up the morning after, half naked and lazy on the bed, could be. They were watching TV in nothing but their underwear and he wanted to be able to think about something other than sex, but Hiroto was so close, warm hips and bare thighs between his spread legs even, and Tora’s mind was all over the place. He felt too exposed, too unprepared for this situation when fucking usually meant the other person left after they’d finished. But he hadn’t wanted Hiroto to leave. Now Tora was pretty sure his normally cool façade was seconds away from going up in flames of stupidity. For what, he didn’t know, but it was sure to happen.
“Mmmm,” Hiroto hummed, snuggling up into the crook of Tora’s neck for the commercial break. “Want to change the channel?”
Blinking stupidly at the remote near his knee, Tora shifted around a bit and managed to grab the thin device and change the channel without touching more foreign limbs than necessary. He was however, rather pleased when familiar scenes from the first Spiderman movie flashed onto the screen. That meant he could oh so cool and nonchalantly smack the smaller man’s side and tickle, rough fingers sliding sporadically across smooth skin.
“Look. Your favorite.”
Tora secretly wanted to touch, wanted to feel and remember, but he didn’t want Hiroto thinking all he had was dick for brains.
Perking up at the sight of webbed red and scaly blue, and jerking slightly away from the prodding fingers, Hiroto lifted his head off Tora’s shoulder. The other man almost hoped he would crawl away to the edge of the bed for a better view - more personal space for them both - but Hiroto simply flopped onto his side, head in the sheets and waist curving perfectly to the top of Tora’s thigh. In his opinion, the best way to enjoy his favorite superhero in action.
It was irritatingly hard for Tora to ignore the way Hiroto felt under his fingertips, the heat of another body pressed to his front, and he silently berated himself for the added torture of stealing a second touch. Unconsciously, his feet started wagging again, nervous movements upsetting Hiroto’s view of the screen and making the square pixels shaky amongst the sheets.
“Tora,” Hiroto chastised, slapping a hand to the larger man’s belly. He didn’t feel it, but the muscles there clenched in shock. It wasn’t until Tora’s leg finished twitching that he thankfully curled his arms back into a makeshift headrest and kept his hands to himself.
Guilty of jumpiness but refusing to acknowledge the surprised reddening tips of his ears, Tora’s awkwardness decided to blaze brand new trails of stupidity.
“Hiroto.”
The other was wise enough not to tear his eyes away from the screen, too captivated by the heavy action to spare the other’s goofy voice a glance.
“Pon look.”
“What are you doing?” The battle against Green Goblin was getting pretty intense.
“Pon.”
Like a mother humoring her child, Hiroto twisted a bit so his back was on Tora’s thigh and he could see whatever it was the supposedly older, more mature man was doing.
He snorted.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Then turned back to the television.
Pouting, Tora dropped the fish face, letting his hollow cheeks flatten back to their normal state and releasing the corners of his lips between jagged teeth. Fun-killer. And he was back to being the stupid fool, yet again.
Rolling his eyes when Tora tried to bump him off his lap a second time, Hiroto reached up and tangled a hand into silky black hair. Tugging, he was able to startle Tora down and into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, tongue swiping into a surprised mouth before the larger man was bodily pushing him away over onto his own share of covers.
“I… What the fuck?!” Tora tried to play it off with another ridiculous pout, “I’m trying to watch TV here!” feet kicking freely at Hiroto’s ass now that he no longer had the burdensome warmth in his lap. “Freak.”
The younger man only laughed and rolled away onto his belly, stretching like a content kitty and sticking his tongue out childishly.
Huffing, Tora threw his legs off the side of the bed to go and get coffee, scampering away like a grade school child after turning the TV off behind him.
“HEY!” Hiroto called down the hallway. “That was the best part!”
Snickering to himself, Tora started a pot of java and pulled out two mugs, cream and sugar. Why it was Hiroto, the fucking squirrel, of all people could make him feel so flustered and unimpressive he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to let this slip damn it! Hiroto looked too annoyingly enticing in his damn underwear and he was supposed to be the cute innocent one! But then his string ankle bracelet tied to one leg had Tora’s mind straying away to much more deviant thoughtss. Coughing and pushing those ideas into the backburner, he wandered back towards the bedroom where the stereo screeching sounds of metal and whooshing fire were once again blaring from his speakers.
“I’m making coffeeeee!” Tora punctuated his announcement by flying onto the bed, both hands coming down to land a firm smack and full on grab of Hiroto’s derrière. Smooth. Very smooth.
It would’ve been funny - maybe even ruffle Hiroto’s calm demeanor into squawking - if the force of Tora’s jump and slide hadn’t popped the fitted bed sheets clean off the mattress, elastics slipping off corners and sending the two of them tumbling to the floor, pillows, blankets, and all.
“Oww… shit…”
Soft moans sounded, muffled amongst stuffed duvet and linen sheets, and Tora realized his elbow really wasn’t sinking into a warm pillow after all.
“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, sitting back on his knees to survey the damage and give Hiroto room to breathe. The bed was a mess and the smaller man was curled in on himself, hugging his tummy in a pile of bedding and glaring sullenly at Tora.
“Jerk,” he pouted, pointing an accusing toe at the other.
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Tora soothed, sneaking a hand between crossed arms to rub at a bruised belly.
“Well stop acting weird. I already let you fuck me, you don’t have to try and act all cool to get in my pants again,” Hiroto snorted, lips twitching at the thunderstruck look on the other’s face.
Tora thought he was so sly, acting all manly and cool and like such a dude. It hadn't worked the first time and it certainly wasn't fooling anyone this time. And Hiroto certainly didn’t need any pretenses to be reeled in or to convince him that Tora really was a good guy.
Granted it was amusing to watch him blush and try, but Tora was impressive all on his own.
And a good fuck too, for what it was worth.
A/N:
The End lol. Oh Tora. Why do we put up with you?
I’ve been... not feeling so good so this cheered me up a bit :) Comments = ♥
Archive