The Gleam in His Eye
Author: Sharon
Pairing: 2x1, 1x2 implied
Rating: PG-13 (non-explicit lime)
Warnings: PWP (This is my first lime, but there's nothing too explicit.)
Disclaimer: The guys belong to Bandai/Sotsu/Sunrise.
Notes: Thank you to DC Logan for the beta.
The Gleam in His Eye
He's got that gleam in his eye. The one that tells me
he's got more on his mind than what happened at work
today. As I focus all of my attention on him, his lips
part slightly and I see just the tip of his tongue
reach up to run along the upper edge of his teeth. He
closes his mouth, and a crooked smile lights up his
face. I know that look. I know what this is: it's an
invitation.
Not taking my eyes from him, I nod slowly. He begins
to advance on me, and I retreat until I feel my back
brush against the wall. My heart beats faster as I
realize there's nowhere else to go. He has me. He's
always had me. And if I have anything to say about it,
he always will.
He takes another step and my eyes are distracted from
his face by his braid, swinging seductively between his legs. As it moves back and forth, I'm reminded of how
that braid almost has a life of its own. My eyes close
for just a moment as I recall the times he's wrapped
the hair around parts of my body. Parts that have
known the touch of no one other than him. I can almost
feel the gentle caress of his hair over my chest, my
thighs, my...
He coughs loudly, and I blink my eyes open to see that
he's stopped walking toward me. He doesn't want me
lost in my thoughts. He wants me here, now, totally
with him as he's about to give me something new to add
to my collection of memories. He follows my gaze as I
look back at his braid. He lifts it gently and takes
off the tie that keeps his hair bound. I watch as he
drops the tie to the floor. He knows I want
desperately to pick it up, to claim it as a lover's
token. I've worn it on my body before, modeling it for
my private audience of one, and I can feel myself
tense from that thought. As a mischievous grin lights
up his face, I know that he remembers too.
Grasping his braid in both hands, he slowly begins to
unravel it, his eyes never leaving my face. I must
look strange, being caught so spellbound by his
motions. His strong hands deftly untangle the mass of
his hair. His fingers are long and thin, and so unlike
mine. They move quickly and surely in a well-practiced
pattern. He's done this so many times in his lifetime
that he doesn't need to concentrate on what he's
doing. But he does. He's making a show of it, because
he knows what it does for me. It sets my heart racing
again, awaiting that instant when all of his hair will
be loose and flowing around him. I may not care about
my own short hair, but I'm fascinated with his. It's
one of the many differences between us that I find so
alluring.
He's close enough for me to reach out and touch, but I
don't. I can feel my body begin to tremble, and I'm
anxious to see what he'll do next. He can see the
desire in my eyes, and smell the anticipation on my
skin. My breathing becomes more rapid as he puts a
hand on the wall next to my face, trapping me there
with his body. There's no escape, but I wouldn't deny
him even if I could.
We both know he could take what he wants, demand my
surrender, but he doesn't. It's not about having power
over each other. The hand that reaches out to my face
caresses me with a gentle touch, and the warmth of it
matches what's in his heart. He lowers his eyes to my
mouth, and I open it with the intention of saying his
name. Before I can make any sound, he leans in slowly
and brushes his lips against mine. His touch is light
at first, but I know he won't be able to resist
increasing the pressure. He pulls away slightly, and
his tongue darts out to lick my lips. Top first, then
bottom. Slowly, back and forth, tasting me.
He knows what effect that always has on me, and I
respond with a moan of satisfaction. I hear his soft
laugh and feel him lean in to claim my lips once
again. I offer no resistance. He tilts his head to get
a better angle, and I feel both of his hands on the
side of my face, pulling me toward him. I give a
little gasp at the change of position, and he takes
full advantage of it.
The force of his lips on mine increases as he pushes
deeply into my willing mouth. He moves his tongue in a
deliberate way, as if he's memorizing the terrain. I
feel delicate swipes over my teeth, and a tickling of
the sensitive roof of my mouth, drawing out yet
another quiet moan. I run my hands up his arms and
grasp his shoulders, encouraging him to continue. As I
reach for him with my own tongue, I stroke and suck
lightly, mimicking an act I'm saving for later. He
recognizes the movement, and pulls away from the kiss
to smirk at me.
Blood rushes to my face, and I know I'm turning red
under his careful scrutiny, but I don't look away.
Instead I pull him back to me, slipping my arms about
his waist as I lean back against the wall. He pushes
my legs apart with one of his own, and we both realize
how much we want each other as our lower bodies touch
intimately. I don't know how much more of this gentle
teasing I can take. I'm already using all of my
self-control to allow him to set the pace. Every part
of my body feels alive, and it's aching for him.
He must be feeling it too, this compulsion to be
united in body, as we already are in everything else.
Leaning in closely, he whispers next to my ear. "Here
against the wall, or in our bed?"
His breath tickles the side of my face as he speaks
and it makes me shiver. My lips part and I take a deep
breath as I imagine what he has in mind. It's up to me
to decide what will happen next. He plays the part of
the pursuer, but in reality I'm the one who's in
control. I will decide if it's going to be a quick and
feverish ravishing, or a gentle worshiping of my body.
After a moment's hesitation, I point to the bed. This
time, comfort wins out over speed.
He pulls away from me, and I'm already missing the
warmth of his body. He offers me his hand, and I reach
out and grasp him, wrapping my fingers around his,
squeezing them firmly yet gently. My simple gesture of
love and trust earns me a heartfelt smile, one that
brightens his entire face. The gleam in his eye is
still there, but it's different now, implying passion
rather than lust.
Guiding me to my side of the bed, he works silently
and efficiently to remove all of my clothing. My body
begins to tingle as he strips away the last barriers
between my sensitive skin and his warm hands. I should
feel vulnerable, standing naked before him while he
remains fully dressed, but I don't. I look into his
eyes, and I see the love he has for me. I have nothing
to fear.
He pushes me down with a gentle touch on my shoulders,
telling me not to go anywhere. No power on Earth could
make me leave him tonight. I follow him with my eyes
as he walks to the dresser on his side of the room. He
bends over to open the lowest drawer, and I feel my
breath catch as I'm reminded of what it's like when
our positions are reversed. I press my lips together
and breathe deeply, hoping he won't keep me waiting
too long.
He straightens and turns to face me, holding a bottle
and a towel close to his chest. He places them at the
foot of the bed, and as he walks toward me, he begins
to leisurely take off his own clothes. I watch
enraptured as first his shirt, then his pants, then
his underwear are tossed casually on the floor. He
reaches back and lifts his hair away from his neck,
letting it cascade about his shoulders and down his
back. He tilts his head backwards and gives it a small
shake. With a sly grin, he climbs onto the bed and
starts crawling to my side. He takes his time, both to
be certain that he doesn't trap his hair beneath his
knees, as well as to further inflame my desire for
him. I'm so close already, and he hasn't even touched
me -- yet.
When he does, it's tender at first, becoming more
insistent as our bodies fully awaken. A caress here, a
squeeze there. As we begin to rock back and forth in
an intimate embrace, I wonder if the neighbors
downstairs can hear us? There's no mistaking the sound
of our bedsprings moving with the motion of our
bodies. As he moves faster I find that I no longer
care. We're lost in the act of pleasuring each other,
and nothing else matters. I hold out as long as I can,
savoring the feeling of him above me, until I hear him
whisper my name, telling me to let go. That's one
order not even I could willingly disobey.
All of the tension building inside me is released, and
my head jerks back against my pillow. I moan his name,
blaming and thanking him at the same time for this
incredible feeling. He chuckles softly and continues
his movements without once breaking his rhythm. My
legs tighten their grip around him, as if I could pull
him even further into my body. His eyes close and he
shudders suddenly, finding his own completion. I feel
his movements speed up, as he attempts to wrest every
last ounce of pleasure possible out of our joining.
Eventually, we break our embrace, and he falls to the
bed, spent. He's lying on his back, still breathing
hard, with his hair matted to his forehead. His
eyelids begin to flutter, and I know he'll soon be
asleep. He turns to glance at me, and I can see that
the desire in his eyes is still there, but it's
overshadowed by something else -- a look of calm, quiet
satisfaction. I reach for the towel and clean him
tenderly before getting out of bed. Knowing how much
he enjoys the softness and warmth of the sheets, I
pull the bedcovers over him as I place a
feather-light kiss on his head.
I go into the bathroom to clean the remnants of our
activities from my body, being careful not to make too
much noise. As I turn to leave the room, I catch a
glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, created by a
sliver of light seeping in through the ripped window
shade. I barely recognize the face staring back at me.
Gone is my normally serious expression. It's been
replaced by something even more intense, something
that he alone can put there.
As I return to our bed, I look down at him, curled up
on his side with both hands clutching his pillow. I
watch the steady rise and fall of his chest as he
breathes. I'm content to just sit here a while,
listening to the small sounds he makes as he sleeps in
our otherwise quiet room. I'll let him enjoy his rest,
for now, because all too soon it will be over. I feel
a smile that can easily rival one of his lighting up
my own face, as I recall how just moments ago I saw
that gleam -- that look of need and desire -- once
again. Only this time, the gleam is in my eye.
The End
