Almost Instant-Messaging. (Karneval, Hirato/Yogi, Akari/Yogi.)
Title: Almost Instant-Messaging.
Fandom: Karneval.
Warnings: Nothing really? Plot, what plot. Also, humor (or attempts of). Cracky? At least, not meant to be taken seriously.
Characters/couples: Hirato/Yogi, Akari/Yogi. (Sort of Hirato/Akari UST/Hissy bitchiness, as well)
Summary: Hirato and Akari already fight enough without Yogi having to help them, really. Especially when he's already involved, somehow.
Rating: R.
Notes: Written for cliche_bingo: Physical imperfections.
This is probably only funny to me *hides*.
Almost Instant-Messaging.
It all started late at night, Yogi sitting on Hirato's lap, his shirt lost somewhere between the door and the couch, Hirato's ungloved hands warm and rough on the skin of his back, tracing old scars as well as the bumps of his spine just enough for Yogi to arch his back towards his touch.
He moaned, breaking the kiss as he moved his head back a little, just breathing, but Hirato had taken that as an offer, biting at Yogi's neck.
“Hirato-san,” Yogi whimpered, rocking against Hirato, wishing so bad that he wasn't wearing his jeans already. “Careful, it'll bruise.”
... on second thoughts, it had, actually, started the day after that.
“Here it is, Akari-san,” Yogi said with a smile. “The files Gramps wanted you to see. Should I wait for you to finish with these or should I go back?”
Akari shook his head no, his eyes still on the folder he already had in front of him.“Checking these results will take a while.”
“Well, then I'll just--”
“But Yogi-kun, I was just wondering...”
Akari let go of his pen and he looked up at him. Yogi hoped that the way he swallowed wasn't too obvious.
“Ah... yes?”
“It's about the mark on your neck.”
Yogi blinked. “What mark on my--”
And he froze, suddenly remembering last night, after they were done and he was half asleep already, complaining to Hirato that he was going to have to use a turtle neck because he had left the hickey in a totally visible place, only that Yogi had woken up late and he barely had had time to run to his room to change, grab something to eat and then.
“E-eeh?” Yogi slapped a hand against his neck, hoping that if Akari couldn't see it anymore, he'd forget about it. “I-I don't know what you're talking about! And now I really should be going because--”
Akari stood up, looming. Yogi swallowed when he got closer, and he instinctively took a step backwards. Akari followed.
“Did Hirato,” Akari asked in a tone of voice that made Yogi remember just how many needles he probably had nearby. “Leave that mark on you, Yogi-kun?”
There was obviously just one answer he could give.
“Ah... no...?”
And the next day, well...
“Akari-san says that he'll have the results in two days,” Yogi informed Hirato. “And that's it!”
“Thanks, Yogi,” and then Hirato smiled, and the sense of doom started crawling all over Yogi again. “Did Akari-san send any messages for me?”
“Nope, nope, nothing at all,” Yogi said with his most innocent, most charming tone of voice, already moving away from Hirato's desk. “Now if you'll excuse me, I promised Nai-chan that I'd he-eeeelp...”
Hirato's cane hooked itself at the back of his shirt, dragging him backwards, until his thighs hit the back of his desk. Hirato was smiling an awful lot as he moved forward, and for a moment Yogi thought about telling him that this was awfully familiar, because Akari had also decided that his desk was the perfect place to give him hickeys and a blowjob, cold hands holding unto his hips as he deepthroated him, but Yogi decided against it, because Hirato and Akari already fought enough without him having to help at all. Especially when he was already involved, even though he had no idea how that had happened.
Doomed, his senses told Yogi. Doomed and lost and time to jump ship, captain.
“One,” Hirato counted, as there was a new hickey on the other side of his neck, though that one was mostly hidden by Yogi's shirt. Hirato moved his shirt up, dropping it unceremoniously by Yogi's side. “Two, three and...” and then he touched the hickey that was by Yogi's hip. “Four, is it.”
“Er...”
Hirato offered him a closed eyed smile, thumb pressing softly against the hickey by his hip, enough that Yogi hissed a little, feeling goosebumps. “Ah, Akari-san, acting like a jealous child... awfully cute, don't you agree, Yogi?”
“H-Hirato-san...” he tried, because it had been two days and he was kind of yearning for his bed and--
“I should let him know I got the message, right?” Hirato-san added with a cheerful smile.
And three days after that...
“You look like shit,” Gareki deadpanned, an eyebrow raised.
“Please,” Yogi said, ready to kneel and beg if he had to. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Is Yogi sick?” Nai asked, concern obvious on his face as he approached him, touching his hand. Yogi took advantage of the fact and hugged him close. Nai didn't complain about it, but he still looked worried. “If Yogi is sick, you should go to the doctor!”
“No! No. Definitely no. No doctor,” He shuddered just at the idea, but then he laughed a little (perhaps just a liiittle bit hysterically, but it was almost nothing, really), dropping his head on Nai's shoulder. “I-I'm just tired, Nai-chan. Some sleep and I'll be set.”
Gareki's eyebrow raised even higher. At least this time he was actually wearing a turtle neck. Though by the way Gareki kept on looking unimpressed, somehow Yogi thought that Gareki could see the hickeys running down his neck.
“Yogi's been busy,” Nai crooned, leading him towards the bunk beds. “If you're tired, you should sleep!”
“Yes,” Yogi sighed, sitting down and smiling at Nai. “But I think that Hirato-san and Akari-san are done sending messages with each other.” Finally. Now, if only they would actually talk...
A knock on the door and Tsukumo poked her head in.
“Yogi, Hirato-san says that there are some new results, so we're going to Akari-san... Yogi?”
“Shh,” Nai murmured. Yogi could almost feel Gareki's amusement. “Yogi was tired, so he's sleeping now.”
“Oh,” he definitely could feel Tsukumo's eyes on him, but then he heard her sigh. “I'll tell Hirato-san.”
As the door closed, Yogi actually allowed himself to relax, sighing. Just before he fell asleep, though, he made the decision to buy Akari and Hirato a set to write letters. Or some brightly colored post its.
Because as fun as delivering their messages was and all, he also wanted to, you know.
Be able to sleep.
Fandom: Karneval.
Warnings: Nothing really? Plot, what plot. Also, humor (or attempts of). Cracky? At least, not meant to be taken seriously.
Characters/couples: Hirato/Yogi, Akari/Yogi. (Sort of Hirato/Akari UST/Hissy bitchiness, as well)
Summary: Hirato and Akari already fight enough without Yogi having to help them, really. Especially when he's already involved, somehow.
Rating: R.
Notes: Written for cliche_bingo: Physical imperfections.
This is probably only funny to me *hides*.
Almost Instant-Messaging.
It all started late at night, Yogi sitting on Hirato's lap, his shirt lost somewhere between the door and the couch, Hirato's ungloved hands warm and rough on the skin of his back, tracing old scars as well as the bumps of his spine just enough for Yogi to arch his back towards his touch.
He moaned, breaking the kiss as he moved his head back a little, just breathing, but Hirato had taken that as an offer, biting at Yogi's neck.
“Hirato-san,” Yogi whimpered, rocking against Hirato, wishing so bad that he wasn't wearing his jeans already. “Careful, it'll bruise.”
... on second thoughts, it had, actually, started the day after that.
“Here it is, Akari-san,” Yogi said with a smile. “The files Gramps wanted you to see. Should I wait for you to finish with these or should I go back?”
Akari shook his head no, his eyes still on the folder he already had in front of him.“Checking these results will take a while.”
“Well, then I'll just--”
“But Yogi-kun, I was just wondering...”
Akari let go of his pen and he looked up at him. Yogi hoped that the way he swallowed wasn't too obvious.
“Ah... yes?”
“It's about the mark on your neck.”
Yogi blinked. “What mark on my--”
And he froze, suddenly remembering last night, after they were done and he was half asleep already, complaining to Hirato that he was going to have to use a turtle neck because he had left the hickey in a totally visible place, only that Yogi had woken up late and he barely had had time to run to his room to change, grab something to eat and then.
“E-eeh?” Yogi slapped a hand against his neck, hoping that if Akari couldn't see it anymore, he'd forget about it. “I-I don't know what you're talking about! And now I really should be going because--”
Akari stood up, looming. Yogi swallowed when he got closer, and he instinctively took a step backwards. Akari followed.
“Did Hirato,” Akari asked in a tone of voice that made Yogi remember just how many needles he probably had nearby. “Leave that mark on you, Yogi-kun?”
There was obviously just one answer he could give.
“Ah... no...?”
And the next day, well...
“Akari-san says that he'll have the results in two days,” Yogi informed Hirato. “And that's it!”
“Thanks, Yogi,” and then Hirato smiled, and the sense of doom started crawling all over Yogi again. “Did Akari-san send any messages for me?”
“Nope, nope, nothing at all,” Yogi said with his most innocent, most charming tone of voice, already moving away from Hirato's desk. “Now if you'll excuse me, I promised Nai-chan that I'd he-eeeelp...”
Hirato's cane hooked itself at the back of his shirt, dragging him backwards, until his thighs hit the back of his desk. Hirato was smiling an awful lot as he moved forward, and for a moment Yogi thought about telling him that this was awfully familiar, because Akari had also decided that his desk was the perfect place to give him hickeys and a blowjob, cold hands holding unto his hips as he deepthroated him, but Yogi decided against it, because Hirato and Akari already fought enough without him having to help at all. Especially when he was already involved, even though he had no idea how that had happened.
Doomed, his senses told Yogi. Doomed and lost and time to jump ship, captain.
“One,” Hirato counted, as there was a new hickey on the other side of his neck, though that one was mostly hidden by Yogi's shirt. Hirato moved his shirt up, dropping it unceremoniously by Yogi's side. “Two, three and...” and then he touched the hickey that was by Yogi's hip. “Four, is it.”
“Er...”
Hirato offered him a closed eyed smile, thumb pressing softly against the hickey by his hip, enough that Yogi hissed a little, feeling goosebumps. “Ah, Akari-san, acting like a jealous child... awfully cute, don't you agree, Yogi?”
“H-Hirato-san...” he tried, because it had been two days and he was kind of yearning for his bed and--
“I should let him know I got the message, right?” Hirato-san added with a cheerful smile.
And three days after that...
“You look like shit,” Gareki deadpanned, an eyebrow raised.
“Please,” Yogi said, ready to kneel and beg if he had to. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Is Yogi sick?” Nai asked, concern obvious on his face as he approached him, touching his hand. Yogi took advantage of the fact and hugged him close. Nai didn't complain about it, but he still looked worried. “If Yogi is sick, you should go to the doctor!”
“No! No. Definitely no. No doctor,” He shuddered just at the idea, but then he laughed a little (perhaps just a liiittle bit hysterically, but it was almost nothing, really), dropping his head on Nai's shoulder. “I-I'm just tired, Nai-chan. Some sleep and I'll be set.”
Gareki's eyebrow raised even higher. At least this time he was actually wearing a turtle neck. Though by the way Gareki kept on looking unimpressed, somehow Yogi thought that Gareki could see the hickeys running down his neck.
“Yogi's been busy,” Nai crooned, leading him towards the bunk beds. “If you're tired, you should sleep!”
“Yes,” Yogi sighed, sitting down and smiling at Nai. “But I think that Hirato-san and Akari-san are done sending messages with each other.” Finally. Now, if only they would actually talk...
A knock on the door and Tsukumo poked her head in.
“Yogi, Hirato-san says that there are some new results, so we're going to Akari-san... Yogi?”
“Shh,” Nai murmured. Yogi could almost feel Gareki's amusement. “Yogi was tired, so he's sleeping now.”
“Oh,” he definitely could feel Tsukumo's eyes on him, but then he heard her sigh. “I'll tell Hirato-san.”
As the door closed, Yogi actually allowed himself to relax, sighing. Just before he fell asleep, though, he made the decision to buy Akari and Hirato a set to write letters. Or some brightly colored post its.
Because as fun as delivering their messages was and all, he also wanted to, you know.
Be able to sleep.