An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
HAPPY NEW YEEEEEARRRRRRR
You can thank @ninanation for this absolutely shameless and indulgent fic ;)
Pairing: KyoKao
Rating: E
Word Count: 1612
Excerpt:
Kyoya doesn't often dream. In fact, one would say he's immune to it - something to do with his constantly whirring mind having no energy to conjure up new ideas, thoughts, or feelings while his body rests.
But the dawn of a new chapter in their lives, the flight to Boston looming overhead as he lies down for the night, has his brain firing on different cylinders.
It's a need. A heat. Primal.
Kyoya, as always, ignores it until his brain runs out of steam and he succumbs to the exhaustion and the dark.
The bed is warmer with Shiro curled up at the edge of it. The gaps in the rafters don't rattle as much with him near, like the sand and wind that whip and crack outside don't want to hamper this moment. Like the cabin isn't the prison I've assigned myself to anymore and instead it's a beacon, a flicker of light in the darkness of the desert, pointing me to him.
Always to him.
The bed is warmer with Shiro curled up at the edge of it. The gaps in the rafters don't rattle as much with him near, like the sand and wind that whip and crack outside don't want to hamper this moment. Like the cabin isn't the prison I've assigned myself to anymore and instead it's a beacon, a flicker of light in the darkness of the desert, pointing me to him.
Always to him.
Shiro is bigger than he used to be – he's filled out his muscles and his face is full of hard lines and scars – but when he sleeps he softens, and his edges aren't as jagged. He can rest, his nose smushed into his pillow like he's a little kid, the whistling of air through his nostrils as he breathes being the only sound that pierces through my thoughts.
I can't sleep, though. I haven't in what feels like years and even though the exhaustion and relief beckons, I'm terrified. If I do, will he disappear again? Will he slip through my fingers like water, filtering through the cracks of my skin and the sinews of my hands?
It's good to have you back, I told him earlier. It's all I could say, even though so much more was stuck in my throat, tacked to the roof of my mouth and thudding in my chest.
It's good to be back, he had replied, but his expression spoke volumes. I wanted to find footholds in it, to latch onto him as strongly as I've wanted to, but we never seem to have enough time, and I'm starting to worry we never will.
Words coil in my chest and around my heart – warm but thick like tar – and they're heavy as they crawl up my throat. My gaze stays trained on his expression, on the lines of his face, and my eyes burn.
“I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you.” It's barely a whisper, a choke of air from my lungs, but Shiro shifts all the same and I tense. He's still sleeping, thank God, but he breathes out a sigh with a smile and I feel the tightness of my chest ease a little. I want to reach out and touch him, to smooth those hard lines with my thumbs and give that smile new life and new meaning, but my hand is lost in the space between us on the bed, clenched against the sheets, and I chew the inside of my cheek.
I don't know what will happen next. I don't know what happened to him. But he gets to rest now and I get to watch over him, and that's enough for me.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, TONY @pumpkinmetaphor I LOVE YOU OODLES I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3
Pairing: KyoKao
Rating: T
Word Count: 3625
Excerpt:
“We should have sex,” Kaoru says resolutely, propping himself on the table next to where Kyoya has carefully laid out his work. It’s loud enough to be a proclamation but quiet enough to not disturb Haruhi, Hikaru, and Tamaki as they begin to make their way to Music Room 3’s doors.
Kyoya stills, hands hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. His lack of response would have normal people believe Kyoya didn't hear the comment, or perhaps they would believe his lack of enthusiasm is an indication to drop the subject. That would be a normal person’s response.
But, well. Kaoru isn't exactly normal.
Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.
tagged by @pumpkinmetaphor. The word is SCOUT. Excerpts and sentences under the cut!
S: Swimming through the ether, reaching, reaching, will he ever find a way to make things right?
C: Coal gasps, affronted.
Loch barks out a laugh.
“I am your king,” Coal insists, “You can't talk to me that way!”
Kris smirks. “You're also my brother.”
“And he's not wrong,” Hex chimes in.
Coal gasps again, double affronted, even as he fails to hide his smile.
O: “On one condition.”
Kaoru’s eyes narrow. A test? Kaoru’s passed all his tests this semester with flying colors thank you very much, so he’s prepared for whatever Haruhi throws at him.
He smirks. “Bring it on.”
U: Unsurprisingly, most people care little for what the spare prince of Christmas is doing with his time. Kris shakes his head. No, he’s not the spare prince of Christmas; he never was. That kind of talk is just the familiar voice of his anxiety trying to weasel its way into his heart. He works hard to stamp down those thoughts now.
If anything is a celebration of his accomplishments, of his worth, this is it.
Though he is slowly coming to terms with the fact that his worth isn’t tied to what he can offer people or what he can do.
It’s a long road ahead, but Kris is working on it.
T: The cool water washes over his tongue and at first, Kaoru almost believes that dehydration is his only enemy this morning. But the reprieve is short lived as the water traitorously burns as it travels down his raw throat. He winces and the mewl that escapes him is too pained to be misconstrued as anything else.
“It’s just…a really bad cough,” Kaoru concedes, averting his eyes and sniffling.
Rumors float through the tabloids constantly of Hitachiin Kaoru being a serial “first-date”r; taking one hot model, business man, or some other person out only to drop them immediately. People talk about how he must be a fickle lover and enjoys going through men like tissues, blowing his way through them and then leaving.
Not that Kyoya listens to such nonsense. No, what he mainly listens to is Kaoru ranting to him every time one of these horrible dates falls through, chattering on the phone about all of his suitors' many many faults.
One thing remains certain about such rumors - they never, nor could ever - discover how Kaoru truly spends his evenings.
I didn't send you the ask about your fic but could you tell us something about it anyway? Pretty please?
YES ANON YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN
As I said in the previous ask about this, Hyperventilation is a Korean animation that follows Myongi and Sunho who knew each other in high school and are reuniting at a high school reunion. Seeing each other again brings up feelings, which leads to some intimacy and miscommunication about a wedding ring.
In the fic I am writing there's a plethora of fun miscommunication (I've been trying to date you this whole time/Why did you never ask me outright???) I plan to play with, but also a lot of kinks/tropes I want to explore for KyoKao smut including orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, prostate orgasm, cumming untouched/cumming from frottage, blow jobs, Kyoya getting Kaoru off against floor-to-ceiling windows, Kaoru having his first time with some random guy who didn't satisfy him completely and Kyoya having a conniption about it
@rocioandthatsall actually already wrote a fic about Kyoya systematically destroying the guy who couldn't satisfy Kaoru which is AMAZING and I think about it constantly. Oh Takuma...You deserved it lol
I've gotten it mostly plotted out but I will be working on it properly in the next two weeks or so so keep an eye out!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Pairing: KyoKao
Rating: E
Word Count: 5177
Excerpt:
Eager fingers delve further, seeking that precious entrance Kyoya knows so well, but Kyoya is stunned to find something blocking his path. His index finger brushes against hard, tapered metal nestled perfectly in the cleft of Kaoru’s ass, and he lets out a slow, steadying breath. He rolls it between his fingers experimentally and it’s like Kaoru’s body is a livewire, arching and shuddering against him. He moans embarrassingly loud.
They both still and Kyoya swears he can hear the flush that crawls up Kaoru’s neck, tinting his ears red before Kaoru hides his face in the crook of Kyoya’s neck.
Not that such a coquettish act will stop Kyoya from knowing exactly what he is currently circling with his thumb and forefinger.
A mixture between a growl and a question rumbles through Kyoya’s chest, his voice low and raspy like gravel. “Kaoru - “
Kaoru grinds back down on Kyoya’s knee, rolling his hips into Kyoya’s warm palms. “You - ” Kaoru hisses, breathless, “You were supposed to be home hours ago.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Pairing: KyoKao
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 2748
Excerpt:
Kyoya hums as he inspects the cut and Kaoru can’t help the way he shapes Kyoya’s features with his eyes. Sharp nose, high cheekbones. Thin, fetching wire glasses that frame eyes so dark they’re practically gray, eyes that hide a tapestry of a million ideas and a million secrets that Kaoru is slowly, slowly beginning to pull at the threads of.
“Tilt your head up,” Kyoya instructs quietly, turning slightly to pull something from the kit and Kaoru does so robotically, propping himself against the sink and clenching his hands against the porcelain.
Slowly, Kyoya's thin, warm fingers reach out and guide Kaoru’s chin, and it takes all of Kaoru’s resolve to not be sent reeling.
