Fanfic: Bibliophiles (1/1)
May. 21st, 2011 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingmirrorTitle: Bibliophiles
Author: Avarice
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Egoist
Spoilers: JR s01e06
Summary: That fateful night in the library... the adult cut.
Word Count: 1650
Date First Posted: 21-04-2009
Date Revised - 21-05-2011
Beta: Eike
Awards: -
Notes:
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ
Somehow Hiroki found himself in Nowaki's lap, knees resting on the hard library floor. Nowaki's long legs were steepled behind him, and his body was in front, arms and impossibly large hands wrapping right around. To Hiroki it felt as though he were completely surrounded. It was a terribly comforting feeling, and it had been over a year since he'd last felt like that.
Hiroki's hands slipped around Nowaki's collar to the back of his neck, interlacing fingers at the nape. Their faces were so close, but it was Hiroki who bridged the gap, bringing their mouths together. Nowaki was warm and real under his touch, a phantom no longer.
Their lips tasted of wetness, and Hiroki pulled back to find tears had run down his cheeks again. "Stupid," he cursed them, but one of Nowaki's hands reached out to brush them away.
"Beautiful," Nowaki replied, and Hiroki didn't have the heart to refute it.
Nowaki had run his amazing hands over Hiroki's shoulders at some stage -- he couldn't quite pinpoint the exact moment -- and pushed the shirt down to his elbows; it was only fair to return the favour.
Hands snagging the bottom of Nowaki's sweater as they kissed, Hiroki pulled the hem up. Nowaki unwrapped his arms and held them high in a 'surrender' gesture, one that tickled the back recesses of Hiroki's brain. The only problem came when Nowaki was reluctant to stop kissing to get the collar up and over his head. It seemed as though Hiroki would have to take charge.
He forcibly pulled his lips away from Nowaki's, grumbling, "Get it off."
Grinning, Nowaki allowed his sweater to be pulled up and off, immediately attacking Hiroki's mouth as soon as was humanly possible again, hands coming up to cup the assistant professor's face.
Allowing fingers to ghost the smooth skin of Nowaki's pectorals, Hiroki's hands drifted down to his stomach. Nowaki twitched, and Hiroki latently remembered it was a particularly ticklish spot. He touched it again and Nowaki jerked beneath him.
Hiroki slid forward in his lap with the movement, and their groins pressed together. They shared a gasp and their eyes met. Looking into Nowaki's eyes, Hiroki couldn't decide whether he was on fire or drowning. His lashes fluttered down, deciding, as a learned and educated man, to take some initiative. Shifting the pressure of his weight from one knee to the other, Hiroki ground his crotch down against Nowaki's.
"Hiro-san," Nowaki choked out, and made a grab for the fly of Hiroki's trousers, who ground down again to elicit another gasp before pushing himself out of Nowaki's lap.
Hiroki worked at the button of his fly, watching Nowaki through his lashes. Nowaki stayed motionless for a moment, before reaching over and picking up Hiroki's right foot. With determination, he tugged at the laces, then the shoe. His thumb scraped the bottom of Hiroki's foot from heel to ball as he removed the sock. Hiroki jumped a little, toes curling. Nowaki laughed gently.
"What was that?" Hiroki asked, brow furrowed.
"Just testing your reflexes," Nowaki answered, "it's called the 'Plantar Reflex'."
"Well... how did I do?" It didn't matter what kind of test it was, Hiroki wanted to pass.
Nowaki kissed Hiroki in the soft indentation just below the ball of his foot. "My Hiro-san is perfect, as always."
There was no way Hiroki could help a smug curling of the lips after that as Nowaki moved to his other shoe and sock. Lifting his butt off the floor, Hiroki pulled his trousers and underwear down past his thighs, where Nowaki took over, pulling it away from his legs. Nowaki had his jeans around his thighs, hands pushing them down further.
There was something surreal about them both being mostly naked in the university library. Hiroki generally wasn't shy with nudity, but in this public place -- and his workplace , no less -- the shirt hanging off his arms acted as a kind of security blanket. Nowaki was not at all concerned, and motioned for Hiroki to return to him, repositioning himself so he was kneeling.
Hiroki took Nowaki's outstretched hands and lowered himself down onto Nowaki's thighs. "Cold," Hiroki murmured as they came into contact with each other. Their skin was slightly moist and clammy from water seeping through their clothes.
"I'll warm you, Hiro-san," Nowaki promised, and Hiroki shuddered. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was Nowaki's words, or perhaps it was the fact that Nowaki had taken both of their cocks in one hand and begun to stroke them.
Perhaps it was a combination of all three.
Hiroki rocked forward and back in time with the movements of Nowaki's hand. Nowaki was focused on his task, fingers darting to his mouth ever so often to be licked, before returning. It wasn't much lubrication, but it was enough to create some pleasant friction.
There were ways to make things easier, though. Hiroki scooted down so his head was in Nowaki's lap. Nowaki's hand was still there, so he took hold of it to keep it in place while he took the crown of his lover's cock into his mouth.
"Hi-- ahh," Nowaki stuttered out as Hiroki's mouth sunk down over his dick. Hiroki curled his tongue around the underside, trying to leave behind as much moisture as possible. It was a bit messy, but wet was invariably better than dry.
He tried not to feel too pleased at the strangled gasp Nowaki gave when his nose pressed against the firm curve of his lover's lower belly. He drew his lips up as slowly as his impatient nature would allow. Hiroki's body ached and he wanted...
Looking into Nowaki's slightly glazed eyes, he knew exactly what he wanted. Hiroki shuffled forward, knees on either side of Nowaki's hips, hovering over his lap. Strong hands held his hips, taking some of his weight.
Resting his forearms on Nowaki's shoulders and spreading his legs as far apart as he could, Hiroki lowered himself down until he felt Nowaki underneath him.
"Trust me," Nowaki said.
"I do," Hiroki answered and allowed Nowaki to guide him down. Blue eyes barely left Hiroki's as he helped lower Hiroki down onto his shaft. He halted immediately when an expression of discomfort flashed briefly across Hiroki's face.
"Hiro-san?" he queried.
Hiroki waved the concern away. "It's nothing." He met Nowaki's eyes and held them as he lowered himself the rest of the way down. Once seated in Nowaki's lap, Hiroki let out a sigh and gave his partner a small nod of reassurance.
Their lips met again as Hiroki reveled in the feeling of being whole and complete. Nowaki's lips were soft and addicting; Hiroki almost forgot about everything else. That was, until Nowaki lifted him slightly.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Hiroki pulled away just enough to look into Nowaki's face. With Nowaki's hands for support, Hiroki pushed himself up, then down, then up again.
Somehow Hiroki found himself moving closer to Nowaki, so their chests nearly touched. Their lips brushed against each other, sometimes meeting for a searing kiss, but mostly just occupying the same space, breathing the same oxygen. Nowaki even managed to smile a little when their noses brushed together.
With each movement of their hips, the going got a little easier. As it became easier, movements became faster, more urgent. Seated as they were, every second or third thrust got Hiroki making a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Nowaki reached one hand up to cup the side of Hiroki's face, wiping beaded perspiration from his upper lip.
"Nowaki," Hiroki breathed, voice barely a whisper. For once, instead of replying with the predictable 'Hiro-san', Nowaki pulled Hiroki's lips to his, allowing a kiss to answer for him.
There was a steady, building ache in the pit of Hiroki's stomach that only got worse when Nowaki touched -- my god, did he have more than two hands? -- his sensitive dick. Hiroki tried to keep focused on his own movements, and Nowaki's lips, but when large fingers swirled pale liquid over his heated skin, the ache felt like burning.
A prickling pins and needles sensation built quickly, and before he had even chance to utter Nowaki's name again in full, it crescendoed. Hiroki gripped Nowaki's shoulders tightly as his lover thrust up somewhat erratically, desperately trying to reach the same plateau.
It didn't take more than a few moments. Hiroki pitched forward, arms wrapped tightly around Nowaki's torso, forehead resting on his shoulder. His breathing was shallow and laboured. They sat in silence, Nowaki's fingers threading through his sweat-dampened hair.
When he could bring himself to move, Hiroki shifted his hips and separated himself from Nowaki, hating the accompanying feeling of loss. In his heightened emotional state, that kind of feeling almost immediately made his eyes itch in a disturbingly familiar manner. He secretly hoped Nowaki would either not notice, or failing that, not say anything to make him lose it again.
Instead, he found distraction in a small red welt on Nowaki's chest, just below the collarbone. It looked like it was going to bruise, and when Hiroki's fingers brushed against it, Nowaki grimaced slightly.
"What's this from?" he asked.
"Maybe next time you're angry with me you might consider throwing a pillow or a towel instead?"
Hiroki couldn't help a short snort of laughter. "Next time, don't make me angry in a library, idiot."
"I won't," Nowaki answered gravely, "I will make you very happy."
Hiroki swore under his breath as the itch behind his eyes came back forcefully. Typical Nowaki. He opened his mouth to mock the overly sentimental remark. "I love you," was what he actually said in a surprisingly small voice.
Nowaki smiled a beautiful, guileless smile, one that made his eyes crinkle in the corners. "I love you too, Hiro-san."
~finis
Author: Avarice
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Egoist
Spoilers: JR s01e06
Summary: That fateful night in the library... the adult cut.
Word Count: 1650
Date First Posted: 21-04-2009
Date Revised - 21-05-2011
Beta: Eike
Awards: -
Notes:
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ
Somehow Hiroki found himself in Nowaki's lap, knees resting on the hard library floor. Nowaki's long legs were steepled behind him, and his body was in front, arms and impossibly large hands wrapping right around. To Hiroki it felt as though he were completely surrounded. It was a terribly comforting feeling, and it had been over a year since he'd last felt like that.
Hiroki's hands slipped around Nowaki's collar to the back of his neck, interlacing fingers at the nape. Their faces were so close, but it was Hiroki who bridged the gap, bringing their mouths together. Nowaki was warm and real under his touch, a phantom no longer.
Their lips tasted of wetness, and Hiroki pulled back to find tears had run down his cheeks again. "Stupid," he cursed them, but one of Nowaki's hands reached out to brush them away.
"Beautiful," Nowaki replied, and Hiroki didn't have the heart to refute it.
Nowaki had run his amazing hands over Hiroki's shoulders at some stage -- he couldn't quite pinpoint the exact moment -- and pushed the shirt down to his elbows; it was only fair to return the favour.
Hands snagging the bottom of Nowaki's sweater as they kissed, Hiroki pulled the hem up. Nowaki unwrapped his arms and held them high in a 'surrender' gesture, one that tickled the back recesses of Hiroki's brain. The only problem came when Nowaki was reluctant to stop kissing to get the collar up and over his head. It seemed as though Hiroki would have to take charge.
He forcibly pulled his lips away from Nowaki's, grumbling, "Get it off."
Grinning, Nowaki allowed his sweater to be pulled up and off, immediately attacking Hiroki's mouth as soon as was humanly possible again, hands coming up to cup the assistant professor's face.
Allowing fingers to ghost the smooth skin of Nowaki's pectorals, Hiroki's hands drifted down to his stomach. Nowaki twitched, and Hiroki latently remembered it was a particularly ticklish spot. He touched it again and Nowaki jerked beneath him.
Hiroki slid forward in his lap with the movement, and their groins pressed together. They shared a gasp and their eyes met. Looking into Nowaki's eyes, Hiroki couldn't decide whether he was on fire or drowning. His lashes fluttered down, deciding, as a learned and educated man, to take some initiative. Shifting the pressure of his weight from one knee to the other, Hiroki ground his crotch down against Nowaki's.
"Hiro-san," Nowaki choked out, and made a grab for the fly of Hiroki's trousers, who ground down again to elicit another gasp before pushing himself out of Nowaki's lap.
Hiroki worked at the button of his fly, watching Nowaki through his lashes. Nowaki stayed motionless for a moment, before reaching over and picking up Hiroki's right foot. With determination, he tugged at the laces, then the shoe. His thumb scraped the bottom of Hiroki's foot from heel to ball as he removed the sock. Hiroki jumped a little, toes curling. Nowaki laughed gently.
"What was that?" Hiroki asked, brow furrowed.
"Just testing your reflexes," Nowaki answered, "it's called the 'Plantar Reflex'."
"Well... how did I do?" It didn't matter what kind of test it was, Hiroki wanted to pass.
Nowaki kissed Hiroki in the soft indentation just below the ball of his foot. "My Hiro-san is perfect, as always."
There was no way Hiroki could help a smug curling of the lips after that as Nowaki moved to his other shoe and sock. Lifting his butt off the floor, Hiroki pulled his trousers and underwear down past his thighs, where Nowaki took over, pulling it away from his legs. Nowaki had his jeans around his thighs, hands pushing them down further.
There was something surreal about them both being mostly naked in the university library. Hiroki generally wasn't shy with nudity, but in this public place -- and his workplace , no less -- the shirt hanging off his arms acted as a kind of security blanket. Nowaki was not at all concerned, and motioned for Hiroki to return to him, repositioning himself so he was kneeling.
Hiroki took Nowaki's outstretched hands and lowered himself down onto Nowaki's thighs. "Cold," Hiroki murmured as they came into contact with each other. Their skin was slightly moist and clammy from water seeping through their clothes.
"I'll warm you, Hiro-san," Nowaki promised, and Hiroki shuddered. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was Nowaki's words, or perhaps it was the fact that Nowaki had taken both of their cocks in one hand and begun to stroke them.
Perhaps it was a combination of all three.
Hiroki rocked forward and back in time with the movements of Nowaki's hand. Nowaki was focused on his task, fingers darting to his mouth ever so often to be licked, before returning. It wasn't much lubrication, but it was enough to create some pleasant friction.
There were ways to make things easier, though. Hiroki scooted down so his head was in Nowaki's lap. Nowaki's hand was still there, so he took hold of it to keep it in place while he took the crown of his lover's cock into his mouth.
"Hi-- ahh," Nowaki stuttered out as Hiroki's mouth sunk down over his dick. Hiroki curled his tongue around the underside, trying to leave behind as much moisture as possible. It was a bit messy, but wet was invariably better than dry.
He tried not to feel too pleased at the strangled gasp Nowaki gave when his nose pressed against the firm curve of his lover's lower belly. He drew his lips up as slowly as his impatient nature would allow. Hiroki's body ached and he wanted...
Looking into Nowaki's slightly glazed eyes, he knew exactly what he wanted. Hiroki shuffled forward, knees on either side of Nowaki's hips, hovering over his lap. Strong hands held his hips, taking some of his weight.
Resting his forearms on Nowaki's shoulders and spreading his legs as far apart as he could, Hiroki lowered himself down until he felt Nowaki underneath him.
"Trust me," Nowaki said.
"I do," Hiroki answered and allowed Nowaki to guide him down. Blue eyes barely left Hiroki's as he helped lower Hiroki down onto his shaft. He halted immediately when an expression of discomfort flashed briefly across Hiroki's face.
"Hiro-san?" he queried.
Hiroki waved the concern away. "It's nothing." He met Nowaki's eyes and held them as he lowered himself the rest of the way down. Once seated in Nowaki's lap, Hiroki let out a sigh and gave his partner a small nod of reassurance.
Their lips met again as Hiroki reveled in the feeling of being whole and complete. Nowaki's lips were soft and addicting; Hiroki almost forgot about everything else. That was, until Nowaki lifted him slightly.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Hiroki pulled away just enough to look into Nowaki's face. With Nowaki's hands for support, Hiroki pushed himself up, then down, then up again.
Somehow Hiroki found himself moving closer to Nowaki, so their chests nearly touched. Their lips brushed against each other, sometimes meeting for a searing kiss, but mostly just occupying the same space, breathing the same oxygen. Nowaki even managed to smile a little when their noses brushed together.
With each movement of their hips, the going got a little easier. As it became easier, movements became faster, more urgent. Seated as they were, every second or third thrust got Hiroki making a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Nowaki reached one hand up to cup the side of Hiroki's face, wiping beaded perspiration from his upper lip.
"Nowaki," Hiroki breathed, voice barely a whisper. For once, instead of replying with the predictable 'Hiro-san', Nowaki pulled Hiroki's lips to his, allowing a kiss to answer for him.
There was a steady, building ache in the pit of Hiroki's stomach that only got worse when Nowaki touched -- my god, did he have more than two hands? -- his sensitive dick. Hiroki tried to keep focused on his own movements, and Nowaki's lips, but when large fingers swirled pale liquid over his heated skin, the ache felt like burning.
A prickling pins and needles sensation built quickly, and before he had even chance to utter Nowaki's name again in full, it crescendoed. Hiroki gripped Nowaki's shoulders tightly as his lover thrust up somewhat erratically, desperately trying to reach the same plateau.
It didn't take more than a few moments. Hiroki pitched forward, arms wrapped tightly around Nowaki's torso, forehead resting on his shoulder. His breathing was shallow and laboured. They sat in silence, Nowaki's fingers threading through his sweat-dampened hair.
When he could bring himself to move, Hiroki shifted his hips and separated himself from Nowaki, hating the accompanying feeling of loss. In his heightened emotional state, that kind of feeling almost immediately made his eyes itch in a disturbingly familiar manner. He secretly hoped Nowaki would either not notice, or failing that, not say anything to make him lose it again.
Instead, he found distraction in a small red welt on Nowaki's chest, just below the collarbone. It looked like it was going to bruise, and when Hiroki's fingers brushed against it, Nowaki grimaced slightly.
"What's this from?" he asked.
"Maybe next time you're angry with me you might consider throwing a pillow or a towel instead?"
Hiroki couldn't help a short snort of laughter. "Next time, don't make me angry in a library, idiot."
"I won't," Nowaki answered gravely, "I will make you very happy."
Hiroki swore under his breath as the itch behind his eyes came back forcefully. Typical Nowaki. He opened his mouth to mock the overly sentimental remark. "I love you," was what he actually said in a surprisingly small voice.
Nowaki smiled a beautiful, guileless smile, one that made his eyes crinkle in the corners. "I love you too, Hiro-san."
~finis
