kimofics

[fic] Reborn! - Squeeze

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 20:51:25 GMT

Title: Squeeze
Author: tearstreak
Series: Katekyo Hitman Rebon!
Characters/Pairings: Gokudera/Tsuna
Rating: PG-13
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(more edits to come… probably)
Notes: This is for toukasa! Happy Birthday, here’s some GokuTsu to celebrate. <3
Disclaimer: It’s a well-known fact that I do not own the Reborn! series. ..Or at least it SHOULD be.
Summary: This was certainly love.

---

love [luhv]
noun, verb, loved, lov·ing.
1. a profoundly tender, passionate loving for another person.
2. a feeling of warm, personal attachment, or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
3. sexual passion or desire.

There were many things Gokudera loved about Tsuna. The way his eyes darted about when he was nervous; the way he jumped when he was surprised; the way he ran to catch up when he'd fallen behind; the way he hesitated before returning a kiss.

Tsuna was bright, pure, and the love Gokudera felt for him was so intense he sometimes couldn't breathe around it--like it was wrapped around his lungs, around his heart. When Tsuna held his hand, when Tsuna smiled at him, when Tsuna softly spoke his name, the coils in his chest squeezed ever so sweetly.

A day without Tsuna at his side was measured not by minutes or hours but by the number of cigarettes littering the ash tray. He tended to avoid counting them (waste of his fucking time) but Tsuna always gave him that look the next day at school. Around the thick beat of his pulse, Gokudera stuttered out how many packs he had gone through when Tsuna had not been around.

Three, four, five--the number didn't matter. What mattered was watching Tsuna's brow furrow, his lips pull down, his feet turn as he faced Gokudera fully.

Gokudera never missed an opportunity to hear Tsuna speak, but he'd skipped his morning smoke and he could feel the lack of nicotine in the way his fingers itched and his mouth felt empty and his bones shuddered at the cold. And Tsuna was right there, right in front of him like he hadn't been the day before. The ties around his heart constricted so painfully he stumbled from the emotions clogging his throat.

Tsuna, he wanted to call out, but there was no need because Tsuna was already in his arms, warming his chilled lips, relieving his aching fingers.

"Gokudera." Tsuna moaned lightly into his mouth and he could feel the weight of Tsuna's passion, Tsuna's love. He felt it in the way Tsuna's small hands gripped his jacket, the way Tsuna's lips quivered against his, the way Tsuna's body leaned and pressed and shivered.

It was almost suffocating but Gokudera couldn't live without this breathlessness.

---

[fic + art] Oofuri: Childhood Memories

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 01:14:20 GMT

Title: Childhood Memories
Artist & Authors: saiyunn (artist), joyfacedown(drabbles 3, 7-10) , tearstreak(drabbles 1, 2, 4-6)
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: All of Nishiura, no pairings
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Many strange things would happen if we owned Oofuri...
Notes: This collaboration was done for the oofurichallengebut life happened (as it always does) and so here we are. :) The prompt was 'Childhood Memories'.
Beta: whitedestiny1x2Thanks so much for putting up with both of us WD. * ^ * ♥
Summary: Brief childhood moments.

I. Mihashi Ren

Mihashi remembers the first time he threw a baseball. It wasn’t anything spectacular; the sweat on his palms and the heat of the glove were so overwhelming, he ended up hitting Hama-chan in the face. But Mihashi will never forget the feel of smooth leather against his fingers and the pain in his knees when he tripped after tossing the ball.

He recalls not wanting to get back up (I did something wrong, didn’t I? They’re not gonna play with me anymore—tell me to go home. I’m gonna be kicked out!) but Hama-chan was smiling and laughing and coming to help him, and Mihashi was giddy with relief.

‘You’ll do better next time!’ Hama-chan crowed. ‘Everything takes practice.’

II. Abe Takaya

‘One thing,’ Takaya’s father said when they entered the largest specialty baseball store in their region. Aisle upon aisle of bats and cleats and jerseys and fresh, white baseballs… Takaya didn’t even have to think about what he wanted.

“A glove? You already have one, don’t you?” Shun said when he appeared at Takaya’s side to snatch the sleek black glove out of his big brother’s hands.

“Stupid,” Takaya scolded as he stole the glove back. “It’s a catcher’s mitt.”

III. Oki Kazutoshi

When the summer local league for kids started, Oki-san took his son to the sign-ups. Kazu-chan wasn't very pleased; he would have preferred to stay home and play with his toys. He missed his video games already, but his father squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile and afterwards made him stand in line with the rest of the kids.

As soon as he told the coach he was left-handed, the old man's face lit up. Then he told Oki-kun he had a special job for him, something that would be suited for his natural abilities. He gave Oki a strange glove with no fingers and lots of padding. It was hard to slip on and heavy, but Kazu-chan wore it anyway.

It instantly made him feel like he was part of something important.

IV. Sakaeguchi Yuuto

Yuuto wasn’t one to read while in the bathroom; he just wanted to get in and get out, especially after his father had stunk up the place. But lying on the counter in front of him was a thick magazine, the cover slick and bright from the lights above. He knew he might get scolded for wrinkling the glossy pages, but he still reached for the monthly baseball magazine his father always left behind. Even when the colors started blurring and his fingers became numb from the weight of the magazine, he still refused to move.

Only when his mother threatened to tear down the door did he close the magazine to see if he had any toilet paper left.

V. Tajima Yuuichirou

On late summer nights when the air was pleasantly cool, Yuuichirou and his siblings would all be outside in the field next to their house playing baseball. There was no opposing team, but Yuuichirou never failed to outrun everyone and score the most points.

VI. Suyama Shouji

The oldest Suyama boy was always looking for a way to make his virtually unflappable younger brother, Shouji, completely freak out. He’d tried a lot of things (the latest being their dad’s stack of ‘adult’ magazines), but Shouji never so much as batted an eye at his efforts. Just when he was becoming tired of his one-sided game, his sweat and toil finally paid off.

He was in the kitchen, choking down his first eye-watering protein shake of the day (his softball coach was the devil) when Shouji wandered in.

“What’s that?” His throat wouldn’t work around the sludge he had just swallowed, but he managed to smile nonetheless.

“It’s a new fruit drink Mom just bought.” He put the cup down so Shouji could reach it. “Wanna try some?”

VII. Mizutani Fumiki

The girl is wearing a baseball cap to hide her long hair. Mizutani doesn't know if he'll remember her name next summer, but she's here now and it's the last day before school starts. The baseball field is empty; all the kids have gone home already and she has to go back to her hometown tonight.

"You'll get much better if you keep practicing, you know?" she says as the night falls over both of them. Mizutani doesn't say anything, just nods. The girl leans in, presses her mouth against his and then stands up, runs down the bleachers. He frowns a little, startled; the kiss caught him by surprise. It didn't taste like anything in particular.

"Try your best!" she says, waving her hand as she climbs the fence. "Goodbye." He doesn't see her again next summer.

VIII. Izumi Kousuke

His mother had encouraged Izumi to join a club when he entered middle school. She told him it would be easier to make friends and avoid his homework if he had an extracurricular activity. Keiko-san hadn't really meant the last part though, but Izumi wouldn't find that out until later. She would force him to stay up late until he finished his assignments if needed.

He tried to keep it cool as he walked to the field looking for the baseball club coach. Instead, he was met with bubbling enthusiasm and a dozen identical grins welcoming him to the team. Izumi realized there was no need to be nervous.

IX. Hanai Azusa

Bottom of the ninth, home team at bat, two outs, no base runners. The visitor's team is winning by one run and it's the clean-up hitter's turn. The baseball makes a loud clank as it collides with the metal bat. It goes flying, high, toward the center field. It looks like a home run, to most people; but then, by a twist of fate or sheer luck, the ball drops right into the center fielder's mitt.

The game ends with the crowd's joyful cry, celebrating the victory of the visitor's team. Asuza's mother is cheering along, and despite the distance, he can see tears on her face.

He tries not to look too proud as his teammates raise him up over their shoulders.

X. Nishihiro Shintarou

Every afternoon after school and before bath, dinner, and TV, Shintarou did his homework. His routine wasn't often disrupted, even if he wasn't very pleased by this, but Shintarou didn't know any other way to spend afternoons, so he stuck to it. One late afternoon though, with the sun bleeding gold onto the purple sky, the boy was eager to ditch History after a baseball flew in through the window and landed under his desk.

When Nishihiro returned the ball, the kids invited him to play with them in return. He turned the offer down but stuck around for a while to watch them play. They obviously enjoyed running around the field and the thrill of getting a run for their team. Shintarou envied them a little.

The day after Nishihiro went to the library and borrowed all the books about baseball he could find.

[fic] Reborn! - Resistance Is Futile

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 02:23:10 GMT

Title: Resistance Is Futile
Author: tearstreak
Series: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Characters/Pairings: Reborn/Lambo
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to KHR. How sad is that...
Notes: In celebration of our very own Reborn/Lambo community opening! Go visit ciassu_vitellopeople!
Beta: moviemarathon <3 (I'm so sorry WD, I'm not replacing you--you just weren't online ;A;)
Summary: Lambo has no will to resist.

+++

Cold metal pressed against Lambo’s temple with sure familiarity.

“I would like to ask what you think you’re doing but I’m afraid I won’t want to hear the answer.”

Lambo attempted to look up but chickened out at the last second—the press of Reborn’s gun was always frightening. He could feel his adams apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

Caught in the act—red handed even. Or… well, his hands weren’t exactly red, more of a nice lavender and was that the click of a safety switch he’d just heard?

“Ah, Reborn—”

“You’re going to tell me those aren’t the grapes reserved for tonight’s Welcome Home feast and then I’ll ask you were you picked up such fine, expensive Concord grapes shipped from North America and you’ll explain to me that I simply must be mistaken about the grapes you have stupidly devoured without a second thought.”

Lambo felt sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades uncomfortably.

“T-these aren’t the gra—”

“Wrong answer.” Reborn hissed before shooting off a few stray hairs from the top of his head. Lambo jumped so badly he squished the grape he was holding on accident. Rich, dark purple juice dripped down over his thin fingers—between and over his palm, down his wrist, coloring his hand like fresh paint. He frowned sadly at the loss of such a delicious grape.

Lambo was only aware of Reborn also watching the trail of grape juice when the hitman growled lowly.

“Return what’s left of the grapes, you stupid cow.” Lambo watched the gun twirl smoothly on one long finger before it disappeared inside Reborn’s crisp black suit jacket.

The remaining grapes tempted him but with Reborn at his back, Lambo didn’t plan to linger long. He moved to swipe his sticky fingers across the back of his pants but Reborn snatched his wrist up—with one body jolting yank, Lambo was beside Reborn.

“What’re you—oh.” Lambo unconsciously curled his juice covered fingers around Reborn’s impossibly deft tongue. A dark red blush settled high on his cheeks as Reborn smeared grape juice between his lips. Lambo knees shook when Reborn took his knuckle between his lips and bit down harshly. Reborn released him and his hand dropped like a rock.

“Go wash your hands before I shoot them off.” Reborn turned and left just as quickly as he had appeared.

Lambo wavered between the bowl of fresh grapes and following that tempting tongue. Lambo picked up the grapes and ran after Reborn. Would he get punished for not cleaning his hands?

He could only hope so.

+++

A/N: I... know nothing of grapes. I looked them up a little and tried to find specific information but... either I'm horrible at research or was just too anxious to get this posted. Either way, I hope you enjoyed!

[fic] Oofuri: His One and Only

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 23:27:10 GMT

Title: His One and Only

Author: tearstreak

Series: Ookiku Furikabutte

Characters/Pairings: Random Angry Girl, Abe/Mihashi

Rating: R

Warnings: Mentions of sex <3

Beta: whitedestiny1x2

Oofuri Prompt Table: Disgust

Disclaimer: I do not own the series for which I am writing about. (crai)

Summary: She is his perfect girlfriend.

+++

She liked him all this time—devoted her precious time to learn about stupid baseball and whatever the hell a catcher is supposed to do so they could have something to talk about—and then! Then she finds out he’s—he’s…!

“Ah—”

“Yeah, yeah, so good—Ren, Ren…”

He’s fucking the pitcher.

A hot seed of disgust worms its way down her throat—slithering, curling, twisting in her stomach before settling there heavily.

He’s gay.

“A-Abe—Abe-kun!”

Anger swells in her chest, pulsing in time with the moans she hears echoing from inside the locker room.

He’s gay and he’s fucking the pitcher.

“Ren…”

She takes pleasure from her perfectly manicured fingernails biting roughly into the soft skin of her palm.

“I love you.”

Bullshit, her mind whispers as she forces herself away from the doors. There’s only one person worthy of Abe Takaya’s love, and she’ll make sure Mihashi Ren understood that that person was her.

+++

To Be Continued...? (I honestly don't know..)

[fic] Oofuri: The Green Eyed Monster

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 05:56:37 GMT

Title: The Green Eyed Monster
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Abe/Mihashi
Rating: PG
Warnings: A Kimobe in the making?
Beta: whitedestiny1x2<3
Notes: Takes place..... when they're pro's together? I suppose...?
Disclaimer: ME NOT OWN. B|
Oofuri Prompt Table: Fool
Christmas Fic For: kirskipkat(THERE, IT'S DONE. HAPPY? ....luv u)
Summary: Abe's not jealous. He's totally not, okay? Get off his back, jeez.

++++

Abe told himself he wasn’t jealous when one of the new recruits, a young and skinny little wanna-be pitcher, decided Ren was available to latch onto.

He wasn’t angry when Ren was stolen away from their one-on-one practice time so the new guy could “learn to pitch from a pro” or when, in the locker rooms, the midget talked a mile a minute at Ren who was unsuccessfully trying to get to the showers. Abe wasn’t even that upset when the guy followed Ren all the way into one of the stalls—both with little white towels wrapped around their thin waists. Though Abe had to admit, he was pretty proud when he heard Ren quietly tell the poor fellow that he was capable of bathing himself—even when his words sounded more like a suggestion than a command (“There’s an open shower over t-there…”).

It wasn’t a matter of being jealous or insecure because at the end of the day, when this lousy pitcher was still fluttering circles around Ren, attempting to catch his attention, all Abe had to say was, “Ren” and Mihashi would immediately look to him, smile for him, and be at his side stuttering, “A-are you ready to go?” This was why Abe didn’t have to do anything about the new upstart—Ren was his and he was Ren’s. There was no competition for his spot in this battery.

Of course, even that knowledge didn’t stop Abe from winding one arm around Ren’s shoulders and smirking over his pitcher’s head at the young man standing not far behind them.

He’s mine, Abe said with sharp eyes. Try your luck somewhere else.

Okay… So maybe he was a little jealous.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Girl Got Back

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 05:48:55 GMT

Title: Girl Got Back
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Izumi/Mizutani
Rating: NC-17ish?
Warnings: Cock tease? :D
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(FUCK IT)
Notes: WD says it could be hawter and I agree.... but I'm lazy.
Disclaimer: OBVIOUSLY I do not own Oofuri. OBVIOUSLY.
Oofuri Table Prompt: Writers Choice - Skirt
Christmas Present For: yukitsu(gawd it's so very, very late.... *cries*)
Summary: Feel the breeze~

++++

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

"You’re wearing a skirt."

“It’s hot.”

“Wear shorts.”

“It’s frilly.”

“Are you serious?”

“I think you like it.”

“I think you’re brain damaged.”

“It’s easier to fuck me in a skirt, ya’ know.” Mizutani turned slowly, bending at the waist, and slid the pleated skirt up over his bare ass. His back dipped like a bow as he turned to look behind him.

Izumi stared.

Mizutani rolled his hips.

Izumi glared.

Mizutani moaned deeply.

Izumi caved.

“Who the fuck gave you a skirt anyway?” He asked as he stepped forward to wrap his hand around Mizutani’s cock and squeeze at the base.

“Ahh—Sakaeguchi did…”

Izumi paused for a moment before slipping two fingers between Mizutani’s wet lips.

“I always knew he was a fairy.”

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Reborn!: Attraction

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 05:24:40 GMT

Title: Attraction
Author: tearstreak
Series: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Characters/Pairings: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Rating: PG
Notes: HMM…..Not sure if I like it, BUT THERE IT IS. Please ignore any mistakes as I don't know if my beta reads KHR o_O;;
Disclaimer: God… what would happen if I owned KHR? Something terrible, I’m sure.
Christmas Present For: threesteps
Summary: Their mutual attraction.

++++

To Gokudera, his attraction to Yamamoto was like thick smoke and fine gun powder. When his heart jumped painfully against his ribs and when his embarrassments lead smoothly into anger, he was reminded (quite unwillingly) of a roiling storm above his head—in his head—in his heart—and he could do nothing to make it go the fuck away.

Yamamoto felt his attraction to Gokudera in much simpler terms. He called it love—because that’s what it was. He called it longing—because that’s what he felt. He called it beautiful—because that’s what he saw. It wasn’t a heavy weight tying him down; if anything, it kept him moving—because Gokudera was the storm in which the rain always followed.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Naruto: Marks

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 05:03:12 GMT

Title: Marks
Author: tearstreak
Series: Naruto
Characters/Pairings: Sasuke/Naruto
Rating: R (ish?)
Warnings: Mentions of coming :D And S&M..?
Beta: whitedestiny1x2
Notes: NOM NOM NOM (also, ganked the biting prompt from this post. BD;; Decided I'd do the rest of my fics with BITING as the central theme... we'll see how that goes)
Disclaimer: Kishimoto is cooler than me. ; ^ ;
Christmas Present For: beneathlife(I haven't talked to her in forever though, ARE YOU ALIVE??? ;____;)
Summary: Sasuke marks his property.

++++

Naruto discovered early on in their somewhat odd relationship that Sasuke was a biter. Like a territorial, dominant dog. More often than not Sasuke left deep marks in Naruto’s soft, tan skin. Marking his property, Sakura joked.

He’d been surprised the first time Sasuke had actually bitten him. He was so close to the edge—just a few more seconds and he’d be gone, and Sasuke was towering over him, sleek sweat sliding along his creamy skin. He leaned down, and Naruto was sure he was going for a kiss—Jesus, he’d never wanted a kiss so much as right then—but Sasuke dipped his head and—ah—sunk his teeth smoothly into the soft tissue below his ear. Naruto dug his fingers into the broad shoulders above him and came so excruciatingly hard, he blacked out.

Afterwards, when he slouched into the bathroom to relieve himself and saw the vicious mark already fading to a light yellow, he grinned and called out to Sasuke in the next room.

“We need to take you to the dentist, Sasuke; your front teeth are crooked.”

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Harry Potter: Who's Behind Door Number One?

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 04:48:24 GMT

Title: Who’s Behind Door Number One?
Author: tearstreak
Series: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Ron, Hermione, Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: …
Christmas Present For: christinefic
Summary: Ron’s off to investigate a situation and Hermione follows.

++++

“Ron! Ron, where are you?”

“Bloody hell…Would you keep your voice down, ‘Mione? You want Filch to find us?”

“And if I do?”

“Quiet down! I’m—oww! What’d you smack me for?”

“What are you doing out this late? You are breaking dozens of school rules!”

“And you’re not? Oww!”

“Tell me what is going on.”

“Quit hitting me, woman! And—and I followed Harry…He’s in that room, there.”

“The old Charms classroom? What’s Harry doing in there?”

“Do you really think I’d be out here if I knew?”

“Would you like me to honestly answer that, Ron?”

“…I think there’s someone in there with him but I can’t—”

“Shh! Do you hear that?”

“What? The sound of you shushing me? Yes—loud and clear.”

“No, the sound of—of… moaning?”

“Moaning Myrtle?”

“Myrtle does not moan like that.”

“Then he’s… wanking? Oww! Christ, ‘Mione!”

“You are so crass. And why would Harry be…doing that in a classroom?”

“…Because he can?”

“Ron Weasl—”

“Potter, please inform your measly friends that I am fucking you and while they think they are being quiet, they are in fact not.”

That night, when Harry came back to the common room looking scandalously rumpled and flushed, Ron and Hermione were there to greet him with pale and confused faces. Nothing was said until Harry flopped down next to Ron one of the plush couches.

“Bagging a Malfoy…” He looked perplexed at the thought but he moved to clap Harry on the shoulder. “Is it true they use snakes?”

++++

Notes: There is much epic fail in this one. Much. Because I know Christine would have wanted graphic sex scenes and possibly bondage and cum flying and wtf do I give her? Ron and Hermione arguing while the sex goes on not-so-sekretly behind closed doors. I'M SO SORRY ; o ;

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Supernatural: Fuck

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 04:29:54 GMT

Title: Fuck
Author: tearstreak
Series: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam
Rating: R(ish)
Warnings: I won’t spoil it by giving warnings…
Christmas Present For: whitedestiny1x2
Summary: Dean’s Impala is dented and Sam knows why.

++++

“Fuck, Sam! What the hell’d you do to my car?”

“Didn’t do nothin’ man.” At least… Sam didn’t think he had. He stayed far away just in case.

Dean crouched down next to his smooth, black Impala and ran his hands over the side door lovingly.

“You see this dent here?” Oh. Okay, so maybe he had done something. Or—someone else had and Sam had been present and that was enough grounds for Dean to come after him, right? Sam edged back from the car.

“How’d this get here Sammy?” Dean shot up lightning fast. “You know, don’t you? How’d it get there?”

Sam mentally measured the distance between their motel door and where he, Dean and the Impala were. He had long legs but out running Dean when he was shit pissed was near impossible. He’d give it a shot anyway.

Sam hadn’t even turned halfway around when he heard Dean vault across the front of the Impala. They both took off across the parking lot towards the motel room (Sam almost ran into the broad side of a pick-up truck and Dean was sure he’d taken out someone’s side-view mirror) but Dean was there when Sam’s hand wrapped around the door knob.

“Ow! Shit, Dean, you gotta be so rough?” Sam’s right shoulder stung from being slammed painfully into cheap metal door.

“You know you like it.” Dean said with a smirk. His fingers curled around Sam’s smooth hips to keep him in place. “You wanna tell me how that huge ass dent on my baby came to be?”

Sam shoved back against Dean’s chest but he didn’t budge an inch. “Not really, no.”

“Sammy—”

“Fine. It was last night—at the bar.” Dean didn’t like how Sam turned his face into the door like that—like he was hiding something. Sam didn’t hide from Dean. Not any more.

“Nothing happened at the bar last night; I was there Sammy.” Dean gripped Sam’s hips firmly and shook him a little. “Nothing happened.” Nothing better have happened… Nothing like the look on Sammy’s face was indicating.

“You went to take a piss before we left and I went out to the car and some guy just—just came out of no where and threw me against the car… I’m pretty sure I dislocated his fingers and broke his face or somethin’ before he ran away but I guess that’s where the dent came from.” Sam jerked in Dean’s arms. “Will you get off now?”

“Some guy just attacked you? What for?” Dean took Sam’s jaw in one hand and twisted his face around. “What he say to you, Sammy?”

Sam looked angry and upset and hurt and vulnerable and Dean hated it. He never wanted to see his Sammy like that—like someone had taken his favorite toy and Dean hadn’t been around to kick their ass. He was so pissed he had to consciously relax his grip on Sam’s smooth jaw.

“It’s nothing, Dean—”

“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me ‘it’s nothing’—I know it’s not, Sammy.”

“He—” Sam tried to push Dean back again. “He just said some stuff, man! Get off!”

Dean growled in frustration. He reached for the door knob and they both stumbled into the old motel room. Sam was so surprised he didn’t react quickly enough when Dean hauled him towards the nearest bed and tossed him quite easily onto the covers.

“What the fuck did he say to you, Sammy?” Dean stood large and fierce at the end of the bed, his arms tightly crossed, his fists clenched. “You better fuckin’ tell me now so I can go kick his ass and be back by dinner time.”

Sam sat up slowly on the bed, his head hung and his shoulders shook and Dean was seriously ready to comfort his younger brother and then go kill someone until Sam said,

“Fudge packer.”

Dean felt the uncomfortable need to clean out his ears.

“You wanna run that by me one more time?”

“You know… a pillow bitter, a butt pirate...” Sam raised his head a little but he still avoided Dean’s eyes. “He called you a donut muncher.”

And now that Dean wasn’t thinking about castrating some random man, he noticed Sam shoulders shook because he was laughing and he kept his face turned because there was a dopey sort of smile stretched across his cheeks. Dean couldn’t see what was so hilarious.

“You think that’s funny, huh?”

“Yeah—yeah, I really do.” Sam chuckled.

“You wanna tell me where that dent really came from?” Sam clutched his stomach and laughed.

“No—no, I really don’t.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sam wheezed.

“Okay then.” And Dean attack.

Later, when they were both spread out across the bed, covered in sweat and semen (and, Jesus, Dean really didn’t want to know what that other stuff was), Sam snoozed against the cool pillows and Dean was just about to fall asleep when he realized—

“Fuck.” He still didn’t know what the dent was from.

++++

Notes: ......IT WAS SERIOUSLY GOING TO BE A SERIOUS FIC. You can totally tell where it all fell apart because I asked about fudge packers and if people still sometimes called homo's that and WD came in with all these horrid South Park slang words and it just... became what you see now.

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: The Art of Public Kissing

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 04:19:17 GMT

Title: The Art of Public Kissing
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Hanai/Tajima, girls, Mihashi (?)
Rating: R(ish)
Warnings: groping :D
Christmas Present For: mynullnostalgia
Summary: This probably wasn’t the best way to come out of the closet…

++++

Tajima was kissing him. Or was he kissing Tajima?

Hanai wasn’t sure about much of anything any more. It was probably the lack of oxygen to his brain or maybe the embarrassment of kissing in public (because they really were in public—Hanai could hear the gathering of girls watching around the corner) or it could simply be the fact that his long-time boyfriend had a hand stuck down the front of his pants. That must be it.

He couldn’t say the situation was unwanted… okay, he could say the situation was unwanted. Mainly because now the gathering of girls had their camera phones out (Hanai was positive those were not allowed on school grounds—not that what they were doing was any less against the rules) and Hanai was positive he heard a very distinct, Mihashi-like squeak come from somewhere close-by.

Either way, Hanai knew he should attempt to tug Tajima off and maybe (if his face wasn’t flaming red) get back to class to do the things most teenagers did in class; learning and chatting and annoying the teacher and—oh, forget that!

Tajima’s skin was smooth and his mouth was hot and Hanai didn’t really care if they ended up on the cover of Nishiura’s Underground Newsletter—if Tajima was going to stroke him like that, who was he to complain?

++++

Notes: Lovely's prompt to me: Hanai/Tajima and the art that is public kissing and revealing their relationship to everyone. Hanai is uncomfortable.. but in the end, neither seem to care w/ FLUFF.

...I'm so sorry I slaughtered you prompt so horribly Lovely!! ;___; B-but.. I hope this will start a wonderful holiday tradition between you and me *hugs & kisses*

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: The Unexpected

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 03:58:44 GMT

Title: The Unexpected
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Tajima/Hanai, Suyama
Rating: PG
Beta: whitedestiny1x2
Christmas Present For: kiwimangoodness
Summary: Tajima would always be unpredictable.

++++

Everything about Tajima was unexpected. Hanai liked to think that, after having been around him so often, Tajima would be easier to predict in their day-to-day life, but such simplicity was not meant to be.

“What’s he doing?” Suyama hadn’t really planned to walk in on them—he just needed to use the bathroom.

“I’m not really sure…. What’re you doing, Tajima?”

“Hugging you.”

“…He says he’s hugging me.” Suyama really just wanted to use the urinal... did they have to do this right here?

“Do—do you think he could, uhm, hug you… somewhere else?” Suyama’s cleats squeaked against the tiled floor. Across from him—slumped haphazardly across the locker room bench like he’d fallen there and had yet to get up—was Hanai and draped over his back like a warm blanket was Tajima. To Suyama, it looked like Hanai had valiantly tried to escape but everyone knew Tajima was impossible to detach without an army (or porn—porn always worked).

Hanai looked bone weary and just a smidge defeated.

“If you get him off of me, I’ll let you be captain for a day.”

Suyama left to find another toilet.

++++

Notes: LMC's prompt was TajiHana + UNEXPECTED HUG/KISS. ...It--it kinda works yeah?! ;A;

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Untitled Celebration That Has Something To Do With Abe

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 03:45:17 GMT

Title: Untitled Celebration That Has Something To Do With Abe
Author: tearstreak(Santa)
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Abe/Miha, Nishiura people
Rating: PG
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(Santa’s Helper #1)
Extra thanks: to kiwimangoodness(Santa’s Helper #2) for being online for my random and often times stoopid questions. *chu*
Christmas Fic For: ms_rebellious
Oofuri Table Prompt: Celebrate
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Except FO.
Notes: ALSO DEDICATED TO ABE. SHUTUP ABOUT MY TITLE YOU MOFO.
Summary: Abe knows something’s going on, he just can’t figure out what.

++++

“Do you think he knows?”

“Nah, look—he’s all oblivious over there! Heh... I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

Abe didn’t know whether to turn and growl at them or continue pretending that he was “oblivious.” Maybe if he looked like he was ignoring them, they'd accidentally slip up and let loose on the details. It would be a chance to finally see their surprised and guilty faces.

“I planned everything, so it should go off without a hitch. Mihashi told me he even cleaned up his room!”

Even Shinooka was in on it. Whatever it was. For the life of him, Abe couldn’t figure out what all the secrecy was about… which was sad in his opinion, as none of them were all that secretive. Except Mihashi, that is.

“A-Abe-kun! Good—” Fleeting look to the left, frightened look to the right, “good to s-see, uhm! …I’ve g-got to—uhh… I think I hear Izumi calling me… Or Tajima—no, Hama-chan! T-there he is! Right ther—no, over there—um… bye!”

Okay, so not all that secretive either, but much more efficient at hiding things than the others were.

“When is it again?”

“You know when it is!”

Abe didn’t know when it was, damn it! He could feel a tic coming on…

It got even worse during practice.

“Oh, Abe-kun, I hear there’s a—”

“No—don’t say it, Momokan!” Abe felt sure that if there wasn’t immediate death lurking right around the corner, the whole team would have tackled the busty coach to the ground. It was a very brave Shinooka that ended up climbing Momokan’s back and clamping a small hand over her mouth in desperation.

“Uhh, Abe-kun,” she said from atop Momokan’s shoulders, “I think Shiga-sensei needs to speak with you in the locker room office!”

As he found out, Shiga-sensei did not need to speak with him in the locker room office—though he did end up keeping Abe there for well over two hours to talk more in-depth about their daily meditation and how to build a stronger battery with Mihashi. By the time Abe left, practice was almost over, and the whole team—including a widely grinning Momokan—avoided opening their mouths anywhere near him.

Abe wasn’t sure he could survive much more of this without exploding in someone’s face. It had been a full week of furtive glances (to check and see if he was still clueless, Abe was sure), whispered conversations behind his back (most were not-so-whispered conversations), and—worst of all—Mihashi skirting around not talking to him at all.

Once, during their one-on-one pitching practice, Mihashi had actually jumped back in terror when Abe stood to speak with him about adjusting one of their signs. Terror! Abe was so annoyed with the situation. He turned to go cool off and grab a bottle of water, and there they were—Hanai, Tajima and Oki—staring at him and Mihashi from the bullpen. As soon as they saw him looking (wide-eyed—because, Jesus, they were a scary), they turned lightning fast towards each other and picked up a conversation that could easily be heard from the field.

“So, how about this weather?” said Tajima.

“Y-yeah! It’s nice and… cold…” Abe was glad at least Oki seemed uncomfortable with his Glare of Death™.

“Think it might snow tomorrow?” Hanai actually looked quite curious. He pushed back his cap and gazed imploringly at the white clouds above.

“Snow? I call all the snow that falls on the pitch! I’m gunna make me a snowwoman with triple D’s!”

“What! You—!” Abe retired early that day.

The next morning wasn’t any better. It did snow, and Tajima did claim all the fresh snow on the pitch—though he generously gave Mihashi a 2x2-meter patch to stand in. His snowwoman ended up with double G’s that—by the time afternoon practice rolled around—became B’s and sagged quite alarmingly.

The team was attempting not to stare at the snowwoman when Momokan called them all over to the side benches.

“Practice is cancelled! Have a nice day.”

“What?” said Abe, but everyone else was already walking back to the locker room, “Wait—what do you mean practice is cancelled? Tajima already cleared away the snow!”

Momokan ignored him but he knew she could hear him; she had a devilish sort of grin plastered all over her face. Shinooka stood beside her with a watery smile.

“Maybe you could… go with Mihashi somewhere and—and practice together?” The temptation to slap a hand over his face was almost too great to overcome. Instead, he turned around and came face to face with (of all people) Mihashi.

This whole operation they were running must not have taken that much thought if this was the best diversion they could come up with.

Abe growled for Mihashi to wait for him and went to change.

It was too cold to practice on their own (what had Shinooka been thinking?), so they ended up going to a local café full of shivering young high school girls in their way-too-short-for-snow skirts.

“What do you want to drink?” Mihashi was so cold, his teeth were chattering.

“J-j-j-j—” The girls behind them giggled behind their warm scarves, “Just-t s-some h—”

“Hot chocolate?” Abe softened at the look of obvious relief on Mihashi’s face as he nodded (two too many times; the gathering of girls tittered at that). With a light push against Mihashi’s shoulder, Abe sent him to go find them both a seat while he got their order. A fresh wave of giggles sounded when Mihashi stumbled over his own feet and all of Abe’s pent-up anger and frustration swelled to the surface.

“What a dork!” One girl laughed. Mihashi was already far enough away to not hear but Abe turned on her so fast, his black scarf whipped across her face.

“Would you like to say that again?” She didn’t, and neither did anyone else within the vicinity. Abe got their steaming drinks to-go and told Mihashi, who was still looking for a place to sit, that he would walk him home.

“R-really?” Mihashi looked happy at the thought of going home, but then he glanced outside where the snow fell in large clumps and then, strangely, his watch. “Can—can we stay here a little?”

“No.” Mihashi’s face fell but Abe wasn’t going to give in.

When they got outside, Mihashi shed his gloves and cautiously tested the heat of the cup before wrapping both hands around it with a content hum. Abe had paused to watch but the snow was beginning to fall at a slant, so he nudged Mihashi into walking.

They stopped to toss their empty cups away, and Mihashi paused under the awning of someone’s front gate.

“Uhm…” He made a large show of pulling his gloves out and slipping them on again, “Abe-kun… so, umm—what’re you d-doing for… for Christmas Eve?”

That line had to have been practiced many times over. Around them, the snow was falling heavier; Abe watched as Mihashi shivered from head to toe, pressing his back against the wall.

“I don’t know. I suppose…” Abe took a moment and almost laughed when Mihashi leaned forward, anxiously waiting for his answer. “Nothing.” Yes, there it was. That had to have been the answer he was looking for; Mihashi’s eyes brightened and he smiled nervously.

“W-would—! Uhm, that is—” Mihashi was so excited, he stepped right up next to Abe, “if—if you don’t plan anything! Would you be, um, interested i-in—”

“Did you want to hang out together on Christmas Eve?” A nice, red flush spread across Mihashi’s pink cheeks and he nodded (only once this time).

“Y-yeah… I’d like—” blush, “t-that…”

Abe turned back toward the sidewalk, but he was grinning so hard he was afraid someone might stop and ask if he’d split his face.

“All right.” He reached back and took Mihashi’s hand in his. “Let’s get going—it’s freezing out here.”

Mihashi smiled and followed.

When they reached Mihashi’s house, Abe was so eager to get out of the snow, he almost plowed Mihashi over when the blond suddenly paused in the doorway.

“Would—would you like to c-come in?” Abe swallowed down a sarcastic comment and, with clattering teeth, replied,

“If you don’t mind.”

A wide, ecstatic smile bloomed across Mihashi’s face, and instantly felt instantly less annoyed. They removed their shoes upon entering and when Abe glanced up, he jumped a little at seeing Mihashi’s mother standing right there.

“Ren! You’re early aren’t you?” Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her apron. “Abe-kun, so good to see you again.” She looked around herself, as if unsure of what to do next. “You two—why don’t you get comfortable in the living room, I just need to… oh, I’ll be right back!”

And then she just disappeared up the stairs. Abe blinked at the spot she had previously been and looked to Mihashi for an explanation to the extra crazy today. Except Mihashi didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary; in fact, he was checking his watch—again.

“What’s going o—” Thump.

They both startled at the noise; their eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling but all was silent.

“Uhm… come—come in, Abe-kun.” Mihashi walked past the stairs to the living room like nothing had happened but Abe stayed rooted.

“Mihashi.” Mihashi stilled at his tone. “What’s going on?”

“I-I can get you some—some tea and—”

“Ren!” That scary bird-like call from upstairs interrupted Mihashi’s awkward speech.

“Y-Yeah?” He hollered back.

“Bring Abe-kun up to your room, we—I’ve got some tea and snacks already prepared!”

Abe absolutely knew something was going on, but as he climbed the steps behind Mihashi, he really couldn’t find a reason for all the little things that had been occurring recently. His teammates whispering and planning behind his back, Mihashi not speaking to him before today and keeping watch of the time, and now Mihashi’s mom was acting strange, too. Well… stranger than normal. There was something he was forgetting—something important—

Mihashi was already at his bedroom door, turning the knob, and Abe almost asked to have a few more minutes because he felt he almost understood. But the door was swinging open and he was at Mihashi’s shoulder and—

“Surprise!” The flash of a camera—click, snap.

“Happy Birthday, Abe!”

“Look at his face!” Loud, raucous laughter.

“Are you surprised? Are you? Are you?”

“Can you believe he fell for it?” Giggles all around.

“We’ve got pizza and soda and cake and—”

He was too stunned to move from the doorway. Everyone had piled into Mihashi’s large room with gifts and food and games and—it was his birthday?

“H-happy Birthday, Abe-kun...” Abe took in the crazy atmosphere and Mihashi’s pink cheeks, and he smiled.

“Thank you,” he said for only Mihashi to hear. Abe wrapped his hand around Mihashi’s and dragged them both into the utter chaos. He made a mental note to hunt down Mizutani and those negatives, but for now, he’d enjoy his birthday celebration.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Kink Meme Pr0n

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 03:29:04 GMT

*debating whether to post this here or not~........POSTS*

MY FIRST ~~PORNO~~ NC-17 FIC.

Written for the Oofuri (Kink) Meme. :D~

It's a bit crappy cause it was written really early in the morning and really rushed (I was about to be late for work >___>;;) BUT THERE IT IS.

Also, that entry IS marked for 18+. DDD: Sorry minors~

[fic] Oofuri: The Worst

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 03:04:54 GMT

Title: The Worst
Author: tearstreak
Characters/Pairings: Haruna, Abe (Omake: Haru/Abe)
Rating: First half: PG-13, Second half: R
Warnings: Angst D: (Omake: Mouth Secks)
Beta: whitedestiny1x2I’M SO SORRY I MADE YOU SUFFER THROUGH HARU/ABE. WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE ME, MY MINION?
Notes: FOR torishi’S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU!
This takes place when Haruna and Abe are still in the same school/baseball team/whatever.
Spoilers: Vol.3, Ch.8 - It’s that game…you know… that one.
Oofuri Table Prompt: Argue (…I’m sure a better word could have fit it but this word INSPIRED this fic soooooo~)
Disclaimer: If I owned Oofuri I might have had Abe kill Haruna. I don’t own it.
Summary: Abe’s had enough. He doesn’t want to play baseball with Haruna any more.

++++

Abe was so mad. The team was waiting outside for the bus and here he was in the bathroom with the lights turned off, his teeth grinding together, his fingers shaking and turning white as he gripped the sink.

What—what gave that… pitcher the right to just walk off like that? Haruna had abandoned his team—abandoned him—when they had needed him the most! They were losing by five runs, sure, but Haruna—damn it, Haruna hadn’t even tried to win it for them! Did he really not care about his team? They could have been in the Kantou Best Eight but Haruna had no control and no will to throw his best. He was so self-centered—

“Ah…” Abe jumped in surprise as the lights flashed on. He recognized that voice and it only served to fuel his anger. His fingers curled and his nails bent against the ceramic sink. The lights flicked off again and Abe used the darkness to hide the swipe at his face with his sleeve. He could hear Haruna shuffle behind him. Abe swore to himself he wouldn’t speak one word but then Haruna gave an exasperated sort of sigh and said,

“Is it really something to cry over?”

One second he was facing the mirrored sink. The next—Abe had Haruna pressed against the side wall, his fist curled and twisted into the fabric of Haruna's baseball shirt. No words came out, Abe worked his jaw a few times—he wanted to yell and curse and fucking punch his face in, but his throat closed up and he couldn’t speak when Haruna’s eyes were that wide and that shocked.

“You—my left arm!” Haruna reached up to grab at Abe’s wrist, and Abe could see he had been scared for a second—not scared of him, but scared for his pitching arm. “What if you had caused an injury?”

“Let go.” Haruna said, and Abe had never been this seething mad before. He wanted to wrap his hands around Haruna’s neck and squeeze but he took a step back and then another when it looked like Haruna might attack him.

This was ridiculous. This wasn’t baseball. If Haruna was Abe’s ticket to becoming a starter or a new recruit for a nationally ranked team, then Abe didn’t want it. He hadn’t played a real game of baseball in what felt like years and he knew that now—after this game with which Haruna had proven they weren't a battery—that his worth wouldn't grow here. His potential, just like his admiration for Haruna, would wither and die.

Haruna was speaking to him—yelling at him, really—but Abe didn’t care to listen. He turned his back and walked toward the bathroom entrance to go wait with the team.

“You,” Abe said when he reached the door, “are the worst.”

And then Abe walked out, just like Haruna had done to him so many times before. Let him see how it felt. Let him be the one left standing in the cold. Except Abe wouldn’t be coming back; he wouldn’t return to the next game like Haruna did. He was leaving for good—to find a real team and a real game and a real pitcher—and he wasn’t going to return. Ever.

++++

Omake (because I know torishiwants to read some Haru/Abe MAKEOUT and more but I really don’t want to write that)

++++

“You,” Abe said when he reached the door, “are the worst.”

One step from leaving, Abe was tugged back and spun around. Hard.

“Who said you could leave?” Haruna growled. And now it was Abe's turn to find himself pressed into the wall, Haruna's large hands knotted in his hair. “I’m ‘the worst’, huh?” He jerked Abe’s face up.

“Better start living up to my name then.”

It was hard to breathe with Haruna’s tongue stuck down his throat, but Abe managed to turn his head (after reluctantly playing tonsil hockey) to take several gulps of air. His hands gripped Haruna’s strong shoulders and he almost half expected Haruna to raise his head and bark at him to be gentler with his pitching shoulder. But Haruna’s lips latched onto his ear, rolling the lobe between his teeth and biting down. Abe shivered and thrust weakly into Haruna’s hips.

“If I’m the worst,” Haruna breathed lewdly against his ear, “then what does that make you?”

Abe didn’t answer—couldn’t answer, because Haruna was kissing him again, hot and hard and wet. His tongue curled and slithered along Abe’s, his hands smoothing down the back of his jersey and—“Yeah,” Haruna whispered. Abe moaned deeply into Haruna’s mouth when he felt hands cupping his ass, grinding their hips heavily against each other.

“Mo—Motoki-san…”

“Hm?” Abe almost forgot what he was about to say when Haruna bit down on his neck and licked the harsh red mark.

“There’s—ah—someone here!” And just like that, Haruna was a mile away from him, staring wide-eyed at the poor boy standing in the doorway. The kid, fidgeting under Haruna's angry glare, looked like he didn't need to use the toilet anymore.

“Uhm!” The boy squeaked. “S-sorry…?”

“You damn well better be!” Abe felt a little bad for the kid as Haruna ran after him but he was mostly glad to be alone. Lips swollen, clothing askew, and heart pounding painfully against his ribs, Abe really didn't want to be seen right now. But most of all, he was still pissed off about the horrid game.

Haruna was the worst. …But even Abe had to admit Haruna wasn’t the worst at kissing.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Tired

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 02:53:09 GMT

Title: Tired
Author: tearstreak
Characters/Pairings: Abe/Miha
Rating: PG
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(she is my Sidekick, man)
Notes: Set sometime in the future.
Oofuri Prompt Table: Tired
Disclaimer: I’m not cool enough to own Ookiku Furikabutte D:
Summary: It’s been a tiring day.

++++

It was a heavy feeling—this… being physically tired. His arms swung like lead at his sides, and he was finding it difficult to climb the steps to his apartment. His eyes drooped dangerously but even the small shock of almost falling backwards didn’t jolt him awake. He wasn’t sure how he got to his door, or how he unlocked it, but he was sure he probably fell asleep for a few seconds while toeing off his shoes.

The apartment was dark; he wasn’t sure he could remember where the switch was—not that it would’ve helped since he couldn’t seem to open his eyes. He used the wall to guide him along the room until his shins hit the edge of the bed where he collapsed gratefully onto a body. …Wait. Wha—?

“Ren.” That was Abe speaking. Abe was here. …Why was Abe here again?

“You gave me a key, stupid.” Oh. So he did.

Warm arms wrapped securely under his arms and tugged him up the bed a little. Exhaustion set in again, but he just wanted to—yes, there; he tucked his head beneath Abe’s sharp chin and heaved a huge sigh. Heat enveloped him; it took a moment for him to realize Abe had wrapped them up in the comforter.

“Long day?”

“Mmm…” His cool cheeks pressed into Abe’s skin and a heated shiver raced down his spine when Abe’s long fingers threaded pleasantly through his hair.

“Go to sleep.”

Mihashi didn’t reply, just relaxed bonelessly at Abe’s side with a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.

“And don’t drool on me.”

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: The Line

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 02:41:46 GMT

Title: The Line
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: jealous!Abe, oblivious!Mihashi, commentary by Nishiura players
Rating: R (for Tajima’s dirty mouth)
Beta: whitedestiny1x2
Notes: This might be the closest to cracky humor as I’ll ever get. Ever. Ohgod, how creative is my title? xD;
Disclaimer: I keep wishing and wishing and maybe I’ll get it for Christmas, but at the moment, I do not own Ookiku Furikabutte.
Dedicated: to kiwimangoodnessbecause I had a lot of trouble with her challenge fic and SO HERE YOU GO INSTEAD. xD;;
Summary: Abe's not liking Mihashi's fans.

++++

Everyone on the team knew The Line was not to be crossed. Sure, some flirted with it now and then—Mizutani was the worst, he knew just how far he could stick his toe over before Abe threatened to tear his jugular out—but putting both feet over was strictly forbidden and nobody was responsible for lost limbs.

It was like the Great Wall of China, and Abe stood guard up top with a flaming arrow notched and ready to be released if they so much as thought of approaching. The Nishiura baseball players didn’t know what violent and gory deaths awaited them on the other side, but they could certainly guess (and they did; Sakaeguchi was best at thinking up unusual—and often bloody—ends).

While the team understood what Off Limits was, the fans didn’t, and that usually made things very entertaining after games.

“There he is—Mihashi! Mihashi! Look over here! Will you sign this? Can I take your picture? Oh god, you’re so cute!”

This never bothered Abe. …Okay, so it bothered him, but not as much as—

“Oh my god, do you think he has a girlfriend?”

—that did.

Inside the team, it was a widely known not-so-secret secret that Mihashi was spoken for. Most fans (of the female sort—Abe wasn’t sure what he’d do if the males became braver) avoided the girlfriend question. There were others though; others that lacked total control of their tongues and didn’t possess one tactful bone in their bodies. These people… Abe didn’t like these people. He didn’t like them as fans, he didn’t like them as classmates, and he most definitely didn’t like them as competition (not that he ever thought of them as such).

Of course, Mihashi was oblivious to the blatant flirting. He hunched his shoulders self-consciously, smiled a nervous smile and autographed their paraphernalia. If one fan were too daring (too stupid, Hanai once said), Abe would march in with a convenient metal bat held aloft and a fierce scowl pulling his mouth down.

The smart ones scattered. The not-so-smart ones (Abe disliked how this number continued to grow) backed up a few paces but still clutched tightly to their signed caps and t-shirts. Over The Line, Abe thought, they are way over The Line. And that made him uncomfortable. The Line was not meant to be crossed. Not by anyone (but him, that is. Abe drew The Line after all; he had every right to step over).

It was when Abe appeared at his side that Mihashi usually glanced up from writing his shaky signature. They communicated with their eyes for a few seconds (Izumi had timed it once, 19.7 seconds!), but Mihashi’s eyebrows always scrunched up in confusion (cue hysterical fans, “God, I could just eat him alive!”) and he continually asked,

“W-what is it, Abe-kun?”

Abe usually growled after this question (Tajima had loudly told him some time ago that growling like that wasn’t good for the throat and if he ever wanted to give a proper blowjob, he’d think of Mihashi and not damage his wind pipe) and refused to answer. But he stayed glued to Mihashi’s side, and even the not-so-smart fans learned to keep their distance (Especially, Oki noted, after Abe “accidentally” swung at one of them).

The fans didn’t seem to catch onto the pattern. They still swarmed around Mihashi, they still feared (well, mostly feared) Abe, and they still almost got their heads knocked off by the jealous catcher. Those on the team were just waiting for the day when Abe would snap and really commit bloody murder (Am I the only one afraid? asked Nishihiro).

Turns out they didn’t have to wait that long as Abe apparently did not like that some male fans decided it was finally okay to congratulate Mihashi after the game. Abe really, really did not like it when one male thought, hey, this pitcher doesn’t need his personal space! And Abe was sure he knew a few good ways to castrate a man (with a rusty knife too—he’d picked that one up from online) when one fan dared to touch Mihashi.

“Is that guy…? Oh no, should we maybe stop Abe? He can’t play baseball if he’s in jail.” Suyama received no answer.

“Hey—what’re you, let me go—I didn’t do anything! Ooof!”

“Ah—Abe-kun!”

“Come with me.” And they disappeared into the locker rooms.

“Is that safe? Will Mihashi be safe? What’s Abe going to do?”

“Don’t answer that, Tajima.”

“…That guy’s alive right?” Only silence met Suyama’s question.

The Line was never crossed again.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: He Was Drowning

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 02:26:37 GMT

Title: He Was Drowning
Author: tearstreak
Characters/Pairings: Light Abe/Miha
Rating: PG
Notes: IN CELEBRATION OF ME GETTING A JOB!!!!
Word Prompt: Warmth (where did drowning come from? O_o;)
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(god, she’s so awesome <3)
Disclaimer: Cha, just bring my day down ;-; I don't freaking own Oofuri. There.
Summary: Mihashi’s hands are always cold but he’s okay with it. Really.

++++

Until recently, Mahashi had never noticed that on most days, his hands were cool to the touch, sometimes even turning an alarming blue hue. He didn’t touch other people very often—never had a friend jump and exclaim, “Your fingers are like ice!” He didn’t own a pair of gloves and the pocket lining on his jacket was paper thin. He’d never had a problem with it before.

Then Abe started holding his hand—before games, after games, during games—and Mihashi felt not only his fingers heat and turn pink, but his face and ears and neck too. The warmth from Abe’s rough hands swept over Mihashi like a harsh wave and he was left sputtering in its wake.

The day Mihashi realized he was drowning was late in December, directly after the team’s rowdy New Year’s Eve celebration. Mihashi had already said his good-byes and was heading out the sliding front doors when Abe appeared from around the corner with an offer to walk him home.

There was only silence between them as they trudged slowly through the snow and black ice dusting the roads. Once or twice Mihashi felt his feet skid across the sidewalk but only when Abe’s large hand gripped at his elbow did his heart thud with adrenaline. His arm burned where Abe had touched him, even through his coat and layered shirts.

Street lamps illuminated their path, making ordinary shadows seem more sinister in the dark. Mihashi was eyeing one particular alcove when his foot slipped and he knocked sharply into Abe’s side. They both stumbled a little but Abe steadied them quickly.

“Can’t you walk?” Mihashi drew away from the intoxicating heat of Abe’s presence immediately—it was too much, his heart was going to leap from his throat—but Abe held his wrist tightly. A shiver raced down Mihashi’s spine as Abe’s calloused fingertips rasped over his skin.

“Jesus, your hands are freezing!” Abe cupped Mihashi’s hands in his and a frown tugged at his lips. He raised them to his face, then blew hotly into the circle of their joined fingers, massaging little points of pleasure along the back of Mihashi’s hands.

Moisture gathered on his skin when Abe released him and his hands cooled in the air between them in seconds. When Abe took a few steps down the sidewalk (“If we don’t hurry up, it’ll start snowing again.”), Mihashi rubbed his icy hands against his cheeks to get rid of the flush he could feel resting there.

“Mihashi?” Abe was farther up the street now, standing in a circle of light from a street lamp. He looked bright—warm—and Mihashi wanted that warmth, he wanted to dive into it and never come up for air. Mihashi didn’t want to wait for the wave to take him under; he would go willingly into that heat.

“Yeah,” he whispered, dropping his hands from his face and only hesitating on his first step, “Yeah, I’m coming!”

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Rare

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 02:09:05 GMT

Title: Rare
Author: tearstreak
Characters/Pairings: newly established Abe/Miha, probably most (if not all) Nishiura b-ball members
Rating: PG
Warnings: more excessive use of italics
Beta: whitedestiny1x2 (she knows what an infinitive is… a good reason to keep her <3)
Notes: Betcha’ can’t guess my word prompt! >__> This fic is 506 words long! I’m having trouble keeping these drabble-like.
Disclaimer: If I owned Oofuri… it’d probably contain more porn than Tajima’s Playboy collection. So no, I don’t own it *cries*
Summary: They had just started dating but Abe’s becoming a little frustrated when he can’t seem to get a few seconds alone with Mihashi.

++++

It was rare that Abe and Mihashi ever got a quiet moment alone together. Between morning practices (“…Are you two holding hands? You are! Look! Look, Hanai! Izumi! Oi! They’re holding hands!”), lunch breaks (“Mihashi! Abe’s here to have lunch with you. …Mihashi? Hey, Mihashi? God, he sleeps like the dead.”), after school practices (“See what you did, Tajima? Now they’re not even sitting next to each other!”) and the chaos that followed on their way home (“Let’s all go to the arcade today! Hey, hey, Mihashi, you think this time Abe will win you that plushie from the claw machine? I know he’s been wasting his change on it for the last couple of days.”), Abe was thinking that his teammates were seriously conspiring against him.

They were dating now (“What are you doing for your two week anniversary? Popping the cherry?”) and Abe couldn’t really say he noticed too much of a difference. He felt like they were still circling each other, just in the stages of flirty awareness (“Aren’t they just adorable? Aww, Mihashi’s blushing!”). Abe hadn’t minded constantly being surrounded by their teammates before because it was a nice reprieve from his thudding heart and flushed cheeks (“Breathing would be good, Abe.”), but Mihashi was his now; they’d both confessed with burning faces a week and a half ago. They’d even tried keeping it quiet and had failed almost immediately upon walking onto the pitch (“Oh, you’re together? Damn! Sakaeguchi! How’d you know? I was for sure it wouldn’t happen until senior year!”).

Their alone time was so frustratingly non-existent that Abe had started walking Mihashi almost to his front door, past the point where Sakaeguchi and he usually split off (“Aren’t you glad Tajima lives in the other direction, Abe?”). Now here they were, standing in the dark outside Mihashi’s house with his home-made pitching target shadowed to their left. Abe was positive Mihashi still used it, even though Momokan demanded he only pitch during practices (“Do you want to be a bench warmer?”).

It was early July and even after the sun had set, it was still uncomfortably hot outside. Abe watched intently as Mihashi fidgeted and peeled his damp t-shirt away from the warm, sweaty skin on his stomach.

He couldn’t resist stepping closer; carding his fingers through soft, blond hair, Abe gently placed his hand on the back of Mihashi's head. Guiding him closer, Abe bent his neck until Mihashi’s red cheek rested against his own.

They stood pressed together for several minutes, right until Abe brushed his lips against Mihashi’s flaming ear and whispered.

“Ice cream.”

Mihashi jumped in his arms and turned his head to look him in the eye.

“Ice… ice cream?” Abe brushed his thumb along Mihashi’s jaw before leaning back.

“Yeah, let’s go get some ice cream after practice tomorrow. Ditch everyone at the arcade.”

“O-okay.” And the smile Abe received in return was one only he was privileged to see, and he dipped in to kiss at it because, while moments like these didn’t come often enough, that smile was never rare.

++++

Originally Posted Here

[fic] Oofuri: Graffitti

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 01:38:46 GMT

Title: Graffiti
Author: tearstreak
Series: Ookiku Furikabutte
Characters/Pairings: Light Abe/Miha, Momokan, nameless!nurse, mentions of Tajima & Mizutani
Rating: PG
Warnings: excessive use of dashes and italics? Bullied!Mihashi?
Notes: I was actually going to write a longer fic with more baseball facts but I didn’t feel like I knew the characters enough to do that so I was going to pop out a few drabbles and use word prompts to help me along. That said this fic is 2, 308 words long and ‘graffiti’ was my word prompt. It… turned out to not have much to do with the actual story.. ^^;
Beta: whitedestiny1x2(thank you!)
Disclaimer: I don't own Oofuri... or do I?
Summary: Abe liked to think he always kept a close eye on Mihashi, but even he was surprised when Momokan pulled him aside and asked if their star pitcher was being harassed.

++++

At first it was hard to notice that anything unusual was happening. Mihashi Ren was a naturally skittish and shy person and he had the tendency to jump like a kangaroo if Abe so much as breathed at him wrong. Abe liked to think he always kept a close eye on Mihashi (it’d be disastrous if he didn’t) but even he was surprised when Momokan pulled him aside and asked if their star pitcher was being harassed.

By who? But Momokan just frowned and turned back to the pitch where everyone was finishing their warm-ups.

Abe watched as Mihashi scrambled to his feet with a little more flailing than he normally put into the task. Mihashi was turning to head back to the dugout when Tajima ran by him with a wave and a hard slap to his back. Something fierce rose in Abe when Mihashi did a full-body shudder and almost collapsed to his knees in the dirt. He was halfway across the field with Momokan hot on his trail before he even began to try and understand the implications.

Mihashi was being harassed? What for? Was it someone from Nishiura or someone from another school? They were doing well in their matches; it could be someone hoping to sabotage their team. Abe had to admit that attacking Mihashi was a sure-fire way of pulling them down. It was also very suicidal of them, if Abe had anything to say about it. Which he did.

His hand wrapped around Mihashi’s left elbow and he almost started shaking the poor boy when he jolted away from his touch.

“Mihashi—”

“Abe-kun,” Momokan pried at his fingers and then began manhandling Mihashi off the field.

“Chiyo-chan! Here’s the key for the storage shed. Have them practice their batting with the machines today.” She signaled for Abe to follow, “We’re going to the nurse’s office.”

“W-w-what—?” said Mihashi, his feet dragging reluctantly. Abe saw the look Momokan sent him over her shoulder and understood intimately why Mihashi simply bowed his head and trailed after her.

As soon as they reached the nurse’s, Momokan pushed Mihashi in the direction of an available bed and scaring off every other person in the room while simultaneously talking with the fifty-something-year-old woman running the sick bay.

“Could you give him a quick physical? Just above the waist. I’m afraid Mihashi-kun took an awful fall during practice. Hit the ground pretty hard when he was trying to avoid a stray ball and he says his back hurts.”

“Yes, of course, let me just—” Abe almost snarled at her when she pushed him outside the circle of the curtain but he stepped back and let the white curtain flutter shut. He listened hard to the soft murmuring not five feet away—Mihashi’s distinct stutter (was he answering a question or replying?) and then the rustle of his practice shirt being removed.

Now it was silent. Abe glanced over to Momokan who had her arms tucked tightly under her chest. Worried. She was worried. Well he was worried too, dammit! What the hell was going on?

The nurse stepped out a few minutes later with a nod to Momokan. Abe breezed past her without a second thought as they began talking in low voices. Mihashi was perched on the edge of the bed, looking fragile and confused and very close to bawling his eyes out. He trembled when Abe took a seat next to him, thighs brushing lightly.

Abe wasn’t sure what to say. What was going on? He didn’t know anything other than Mihashi was possibly hurt and it was possibly because of bullying.

He remembered their first game against Mihoshi when he’d been searching for his pitcher and had stumbled upon the opposing team’s catcher threatening to break Mihashi’s arm. Abe could tell right away it wasn’t the first time Mihashi’d been cornered and pushed around. At the time, he’d felt anger at Mihashi for having such a lousy personality; who lets themselves be bullied? Who justifies it with “He isn’t a bad guy…”?

Abe had learned quickly that getting pissed at Mihashi was pointless and only proved to irritate himself further. That didn’t stop him from getting frustrated and annoyed most days, but Abe respected Mihashi because he was an amazing pitcher who constantly worked to improve his game. He felt an impossibly hot heat burn through his limbs at the thought that somebody was abusing his pitcher.

The curtain parted as the nurse and Momokan stepped through.

“We need to talk to Mihashi privately; I’m going to have to ask you to step out for a little.” There was no way Abe was leaving. Apparently Mihashi thought so too, if his bone-breaking death grip on Abe’s left hand was anything to go by. Abe noted that Mihashi’s hand was almost uncomfortably hot.

“I’d rather stay thanks.”

The nurse stared long and hard at Mihashi who skillfully avoided meeting her gaze. Finally, she heaved a sigh and pulled a chair over to take a seat in front of them.

“Mihashi,” said the nurse, “you know you won’t get in trouble if you tell us the reason for those bruises on your back. If you’re being teased or bullied by someone at school or home, you need to inform us so we can help you.”

Abe couldn’t really feel his fingers any more but he ignored that if only because now real tears were spilling over Mihashi’s softly curved cheeks and dripping steadily from his wobbling chin. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.

“T-they…” Abe squeezed Mihashi’s hand when he trembled and didn’t continue. Mihashi took a few sobbing gasps before it all just seemed to swell and tumble over his lips.

“A-about a week ago, got these letters—my locker—and, and in the halls, p-people shoved at,” his voice hitched, “me and called—” a sob so wretched burst from Mihashi throat, Abe felt it was okay to tuck Mihashi’s arm into his side, “called me f-fag and homo! T-then,” he curled into himself a bit more and his voice came out as just a low stutter, “then yesterday—was walking to p-practice…” Mihashi breathed deeply for a few seconds, his hand came up to swipe at his face once before falling limply into his lap again, “these people! Just—just came from nowhere a-and—my back,” he looked up to Abe then, as if to make sure he was still listening, “they pushed me, h-hit—my back, hit a wall, nngh,” Mihashi winced and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. Abe suspected he’d bitten his tongue but Mihashi plowed on, “S-spat, they spat at me, kept—kept pushing me and r-rocks…!”

Mihashi stopped there. He was shaking so hard, Abe had long ago lost feeling in his arm from the vibrations. His mind was whirling in a flurry of thought even as he attempted to ignore the press of Mihashi against his side.

“Who are they?” Abe was so mad, “Name them, Mihashi.”

Abe gripped Mihashi’s arm tightly and rattled him a little when he fervently shook his head, “Name them, Mihashi.”

“Abe-kun!” The reprimand from the nurse was sharp, but Mihashi was already stuttering out names. Abe vaguely recognized a few, some were in their year, but most were older. Mihashi paused after one particular name; his eyes skittered up to meet Abe’s briefly, falling just as quickly.

“He… he l-lives near me, I—” hiccup, “I think he, he might have…”

“Might have what?” growled Abe.

“Some—some letters in our mail… he might’ve—uhm…”

“Your mother asked me about those Mihashi.” There was a stormy look on Momokan’s face, “She was afraid you were being bullied in school when she found some letters with offensive graffiti on them.”

“I—I didn’t want anyone to worry!” Mihashi was looking up now, pleading with them all to understand, “Af—after yester,” deep breath, sob, “yesterday, I didn’t—I don’t, w-what was—”

Didn’t want them to worry? Well! If that was Mihashi’s intention, he was going about it all wrong. Abe was far past worried; he’d skipped right into blazing pissed and he felt Mihashi should know.

“I can’t,” Abe forced himself to release his bruising grip on Mihashi’s arm when he whimpered and ducked into his side, “believe you! Of course we’re going to worry if you start showing up with imprints of rocks on your arms or large bruises on your back from being shoved into a wall. Are you stupid? We’re your team, Mihashi!” Abe clutched at the back of Mihashi’s neck and waited until he was looking up at him through his blond eye lashes, “We’re your team, Mihashi. We’re like your family. You can’t hide this kind of thing from us! We support each other and we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong!”

Mihashi’s neck was warm and slightly sun burnt (Abe made a mental note to get his idiot pitcher some sun screen) and even as Abe watched, Mihashi’s harsh breathing slowed to a gentle hiccup and he relaxed into Abe’s hand.

A soft cough drew Abe’s attention to the nurse who had gotten out a pen and a pad of paper. “I’m glad you’ve given us names Mihashi-san, there has actually been a few other students who have showed up with similar scratches and bruising but they either didn’t know who was bullying them or refused to say.” The pen began tapping against the paper in a way that set Abe’s teeth on edge in annoyance, “I’m sure if they know they’re not alone, they’ll also file complaints through the school. It sounds to me like these boys are bullying people just because they can; you were probably targeted because you live close to one of them.” Here she looked pointedly at the hand Abe rested on the back of Mihashi’s neck. “I don’t think it has anything to do with you possibly being homosexual.”

Her look said she doubted her own words. Abe didn’t like that look, not at all.

“I’m going to visit the principal and have a talk with him. For now, make sure you’re always in the company of somebody you trust.” Momokan nodded at her questioning look.

“He shares the same class with some of his teammates.”

“All right,” said the nurse, “All that’s left for you to do, Mihashi-san, is take it easy for a few days. The bruising on your back should start to fade in a day or two but for now sleep on your stomach and take a break from your baseball activities.”

Mihashi definitely looked like he was about to protest that; his eyes went wide with panic and he almost shot right off the bed. Momokan seemed to have predicted this though because her arms were already unfolded and she was there holding him down with a steady hand in seconds.

“Mihashi-kun, you’ll be taking a two-day break from practice. During this time, Abe-kun will have you studying our next opponent’s batting styles. Understood?” Mihashi visibly quailed under her grip.

“Ye—” gulp, “yes!”

“Good. You two head back to the field and get started on reviewing those charts.”

Abe reluctantly released Mihashi as they exited the nurse’s office. It was silent on the walk back and it unnerved Abe with every step he took. He was used to Mihashi stuttering his way through awkward conversation and even when he wasn’t mumbling to himself there was always an air of nervous energy hovering at Abe’s shoulder, ready to take flight at any given moment.

Now it seemed like a dead weight had settled over Mihashi’s head. His arms swung uselessly at his sides and his feet scuffed up small, depressing dust clouds in their wake.

Abe couldn’t stand it.

“Mihashi,” He waited until Mihashi was even with him, “Mihashi.”

Mihashi’s head snapped up in confusion, like he wasn’t really sure where he was. Abe let him give a cursory glance to their surroundings before he spoke again.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” Abe could see he clearly did not know. He clenched and unclenched his hands to keep from wrapping them around Mihashi’s skinny little neck.

“This wasn’t your fault! Everyone on the team would agree with me, you didn’t have to hide this from me—from us.” Mihashi was starting to look properly ashamed but this didn’t satisfy Abe, he didn’t want Mihashi to be scared into trusting them!

“I’m…” Mihashi looked close to tears again, “I’m sorr—”

“Your hand.”

“What?”

Abe held out his right hand, “Give me your hand. No—your pitching hand.”

Mihashi held out his hand, looking like he half expected Abe to rip it off. Abe was really (really) tempted to right then, but decided upon just snatching it up and holding it firmly between his own long fingers.

A goofy (and entirely inappropriate) grin spread across his face at the heat radiating off of Mihashi’s hand.

“Abe-kun?”

“No, it’s all right.” And it really was because Mihashi trusted Abe, felt comfortable and relaxed around him. He just obviously had trouble voicing when he needed help. “Just promise to never keep secrets like that from me again. We’re a battery Mihashi; there are no secrets between us.”

“I,” Mihashi seemed to sense his seriousness because he swallowed and nodded hard, “I promise.”

Abe shifted his grip so he was able to drag Mihashi after him. “Good. Let’s get back to the pitch so you can study those batting charts.”

The stupid grin remained plastered across his face all the way to the dugout where Mizutani kindly pointed out he should really practice his scary child-eating smirk in the privacy of his own home.

Abe decided the team could spare losing a member.

++++

Originally Posted Here

Starting this writing journal off right! (kinda..)

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 00:47:09 GMT

Phew, after ~~way too~~ much deliberation, I've decided to make a writing journal. \o\ /o/

To help me get into the swing of this newness (read: to help me stop lazing about and actually WRITE), I've stolen this meme from yukitsu ♥

1) Make a list of stories you are currently writing/are planning to write/are procrastinating over.

My list:
Everything on my Oofuri Prompt Table *cry*
mizunohotaru's extremely late Christmas fic - Tajima centric
mannequinboy's already late b-day fic - IzuMizu (comfort situation? Mostly just fluff and dialogue. AND SOME MENTION OF IZUMI'S FRECKLES PLEASE.)
mynullnostalgia's b-day fic - YamaGoku (with the theme 'jealousy' or 'possession'. Goku-chan gets jealous BUT he's still the uke 8D They have make-up sex in the baseball field. In the end, it was all just a misunderstanding jealousy.)
...several other people's up-coming b-day fics
Other....fics..... ¬ ¬

2) Ask your f!list to give you as many prompts as they want for stories they want you to write.
3) Choose five stories from each list and promise to finish them by the end of '08. Link back to this post every time you post one. (And no one--I honestly mean no one--gets to bug me about finishing these fics since I have a year to complete them. B| )

This is where you leave me prompts. :D Seriously go crazy with the prompts here because I'll pick out the ones I know for sure I'm able to write (and the ones that sound good... *is selfish like that*). >>;

You don't have to post this in your LJ, but that'd be cool if you did... *hinthint* *nudgenudge*