Fic: "A Taste of Victory," H50, Chin/Kono, R.
This is pretty much because I was thinking of requesting "Chin/Kona, shave ice" for Porn Battle XI. And I couldn't wait, so I ended up writing it myself! Why is it suddenly so warm, and why am I in this handbasket? (I REALLY need an accompanying LJ icon for this OTP, don't I?)
Title: "A Taste of Victory"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Hawaii Five-O
Rating/Classification: R, Chin Ho/Kona, secondary Kona/Danny implications, sexual hijinks, incest-y themes.
Disclaimer: I don't remotely own these characters.
Summary: 575 words. Pretty much a plot-less bit of smut. The stakes of her dare have just risen. And he can see by the look in her eyes that she expects him to stalk away, to cool off and pretend otherwise.
They're playing, like puppies. Wrestling over their tall cups of shave ice. Danny's tongue is purple and he swipes it up and down Kono's throat as she shoves a handful of cherry ice down his collar. He yelps, pulling away to unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt, and she laughs, grinning with artificially red lips and an even brighter tongue. Chin knows he should tell them to be careful, to not get any of that shit on the equipment, but he can't seem to say anything. Like he's the one with a mouthful of ice, his vocal cords are frozen. His hands are flat against the touch screen, calling up nothing but blank windows.
"Uncle, uncle! I give up!" Danny cries, before going off to change shirts, to maintain that Jersey cop's professional façade. And that's when Kono turns her attention to him, fixed to one spot like a voyeur. She waves her cup at him, the dare written in the arch of her eyebrows.
It's enough to thaw at least his feet. "Oh, no, you don't." He comes out from behind the computer, hands raised to ward her off.
"Oh, yes, I do." She sucks on the plastic straw, before crunching on one bite and then a second. "Forget 'uncle,' brah. I want you to cry, 'cousin.'"
Chin feels a jolt of completely inappropriate, and completely obvious, lust go through him and settle at his groin. He's trained Kono well, too well, because she misses nothing. The stakes of her dare have just risen. And he can see by the look in her eyes that she expects him to stalk away, to cool off and pretend otherwise. She'll hop up onto the desk, sit cross-legged and finish her shave ice and think she's won because her sober, serious cousin won't even play the game.
She's wrong. This time, she's wrong.
She tastes like cherries. That's what he registers when he closes the distance between them and devours her exclamation of shock. Cherries and sugar and cold. It's not her favorite flavor; it's his. The childish show with Danny was all for his benefit. For *her* benefit. Chin Ho groans, crushing her closer with one arm slung around her waist, while his free hand places her shave ice out of harm's way… out of harm's way, but still well within reach when he lays her flat against the desktop.
He pushes her t-shirt up and drips cool, slushy syrup across her stomach, into the hollow of her belly button. It's her turn to make yelping noises of defeat, of indignation. When he puts his mouth on her, it's not playful. It's with purpose. Licking her clean… and then licking her filthy. Chasing sweet stickiness down into the zip of her jeans, spreading the denim wide and shoving her thong aside so he can suck the cherry ice from places he's only dreamed of.
He takes her right over the edge, and she doesn't cry "uncle." She doesn't cry "cousin." She cries out "more." Because that's always what she's wanted from him. *This* is what she's wanted from him. Action. Reaction. Acknowledgment of ownership. She's his, to do with as he pleases.
He raises his head, lips glistening with shave ice syrup and her surrender, and meets Danny's knowing gaze. Danny, with one hand down his pants and a face flushed with envy, is just a puppy. Where Kono is concerned, Chin is top dog.
--end--
January 17, 2011
Title: "A Taste of Victory"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Hawaii Five-O
Rating/Classification: R, Chin Ho/Kona, secondary Kona/Danny implications, sexual hijinks, incest-y themes.
Disclaimer: I don't remotely own these characters.
Summary: 575 words. Pretty much a plot-less bit of smut. The stakes of her dare have just risen. And he can see by the look in her eyes that she expects him to stalk away, to cool off and pretend otherwise.
They're playing, like puppies. Wrestling over their tall cups of shave ice. Danny's tongue is purple and he swipes it up and down Kono's throat as she shoves a handful of cherry ice down his collar. He yelps, pulling away to unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt, and she laughs, grinning with artificially red lips and an even brighter tongue. Chin knows he should tell them to be careful, to not get any of that shit on the equipment, but he can't seem to say anything. Like he's the one with a mouthful of ice, his vocal cords are frozen. His hands are flat against the touch screen, calling up nothing but blank windows.
"Uncle, uncle! I give up!" Danny cries, before going off to change shirts, to maintain that Jersey cop's professional façade. And that's when Kono turns her attention to him, fixed to one spot like a voyeur. She waves her cup at him, the dare written in the arch of her eyebrows.
It's enough to thaw at least his feet. "Oh, no, you don't." He comes out from behind the computer, hands raised to ward her off.
"Oh, yes, I do." She sucks on the plastic straw, before crunching on one bite and then a second. "Forget 'uncle,' brah. I want you to cry, 'cousin.'"
Chin feels a jolt of completely inappropriate, and completely obvious, lust go through him and settle at his groin. He's trained Kono well, too well, because she misses nothing. The stakes of her dare have just risen. And he can see by the look in her eyes that she expects him to stalk away, to cool off and pretend otherwise. She'll hop up onto the desk, sit cross-legged and finish her shave ice and think she's won because her sober, serious cousin won't even play the game.
She's wrong. This time, she's wrong.
She tastes like cherries. That's what he registers when he closes the distance between them and devours her exclamation of shock. Cherries and sugar and cold. It's not her favorite flavor; it's his. The childish show with Danny was all for his benefit. For *her* benefit. Chin Ho groans, crushing her closer with one arm slung around her waist, while his free hand places her shave ice out of harm's way… out of harm's way, but still well within reach when he lays her flat against the desktop.
He pushes her t-shirt up and drips cool, slushy syrup across her stomach, into the hollow of her belly button. It's her turn to make yelping noises of defeat, of indignation. When he puts his mouth on her, it's not playful. It's with purpose. Licking her clean… and then licking her filthy. Chasing sweet stickiness down into the zip of her jeans, spreading the denim wide and shoving her thong aside so he can suck the cherry ice from places he's only dreamed of.
He takes her right over the edge, and she doesn't cry "uncle." She doesn't cry "cousin." She cries out "more." Because that's always what she's wanted from him. *This* is what she's wanted from him. Action. Reaction. Acknowledgment of ownership. She's his, to do with as he pleases.
He raises his head, lips glistening with shave ice syrup and her surrender, and meets Danny's knowing gaze. Danny, with one hand down his pants and a face flushed with envy, is just a puppy. Where Kono is concerned, Chin is top dog.
--end--
January 17, 2011