Ship: Haizaki/Himuro Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Word Count: 414
***
They skip the pleasantries; Haizaki’s been here long enough that it’s actually sort of refreshing not to be asked what he’s in for, for the new inmate (he’d be pretty if it weren’t for the dead eye) to size him up, his gaze flickering cool, to look at him like he’ll do for something. Haizaki’s not used to taking orders, to being arbitrarily chosen, but it means, at first, exactly what he thinks it does. Sex on the bottom bunk of a cell, in the back of the library just out of the way of the cameras (slick hand jobs under the table when they can), like this—Haizaki’s used to having it casual, once in a while; he’s used to using it for power, for fear. He’s not used to having it as an end for itself, the way Himuro seems to.
“What the fuck do you want?” Haizaki says after the tenth or eleventh time (he’s lost count), Himuro lying on top of him, coming down sweaty, face half-hidden in the shadow.
“You,” says Himuro, as if that’s simple, as if Haizaki is something to want. “What do you want?”
Haizaki wants Himuro, sure, pretty lips and voice sweet like he hasn’t tasted since he got in here. But this is transient; no matter what Himuro did he’ll get out here sooner than Haizaki; he can’t have a pile of minor crimes that reduce to little security but a lot of time.
“I want to get out of here,” Haizaki says.
Himuro’s hands are smooth in his. “I can do that.”
Haizaki wonders how many people he’s made sweet promises to like that, if in the real world his hair covered his face like the shadows and he looked so asymmetrically pretty, if he made a promise to the wrong person and that’s how he got in.
“How you plan to do that?”
“I don’t,” says Himuro. “But I’ll figure it out.”
Haizaki snorts; there’s no reward for honesty here but it’s cute from Himuro, the smile that plays around his mouth before Haizaki leans in to kiss him; if this is a ploy to get more of this then Himuro’s won already. But Haizaki’s got nothing to lose from another kiss, no good behavior bridges to burn if Himuro talks too loudly about what Haizaki wants. So Haizaki squeezes Himuro’s ass, cups his hips in his hands, kisses the stubble on his cheek and the lobe of his unpierced ear.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 414
***
They skip the pleasantries; Haizaki’s been here long enough that it’s actually sort of refreshing not to be asked what he’s in for, for the new inmate (he’d be pretty if it weren’t for the dead eye) to size him up, his gaze flickering cool, to look at him like he’ll do for something. Haizaki’s not used to taking orders, to being arbitrarily chosen, but it means, at first, exactly what he thinks it does. Sex on the bottom bunk of a cell, in the back of the library just out of the way of the cameras (slick hand jobs under the table when they can), like this—Haizaki’s used to having it casual, once in a while; he’s used to using it for power, for fear. He’s not used to having it as an end for itself, the way Himuro seems to.
“What the fuck do you want?” Haizaki says after the tenth or eleventh time (he’s lost count), Himuro lying on top of him, coming down sweaty, face half-hidden in the shadow.
“You,” says Himuro, as if that’s simple, as if Haizaki is something to want. “What do you want?”
Haizaki wants Himuro, sure, pretty lips and voice sweet like he hasn’t tasted since he got in here. But this is transient; no matter what Himuro did he’ll get out here sooner than Haizaki; he can’t have a pile of minor crimes that reduce to little security but a lot of time.
“I want to get out of here,” Haizaki says.
Himuro’s hands are smooth in his. “I can do that.”
Haizaki wonders how many people he’s made sweet promises to like that, if in the real world his hair covered his face like the shadows and he looked so asymmetrically pretty, if he made a promise to the wrong person and that’s how he got in.
“How you plan to do that?”
“I don’t,” says Himuro. “But I’ll figure it out.”
Haizaki snorts; there’s no reward for honesty here but it’s cute from Himuro, the smile that plays around his mouth before Haizaki leans in to kiss him; if this is a ploy to get more of this then Himuro’s won already. But Haizaki’s got nothing to lose from another kiss, no good behavior bridges to burn if Himuro talks too loudly about what Haizaki wants. So Haizaki squeezes Himuro’s ass, cups his hips in his hands, kisses the stubble on his cheek and the lobe of his unpierced ear.