![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ajremixTitle: Off Balance
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Rating: PG-13 and steaming
Word Count: 789
Characters: Hiruma, Mamori
Summary: A sequel of sorts to A Little Attention. Because this kind of Mamori is very surprisingly FUN.
Hiruma had come to the conclusion that few things entertained Mamori like catching him by surprise. Like that first time she surprised him with a kiss he couldn’t get that immensely satisfied look out of his mind as he struggled to regain the power of speech.
Another time, days later, he was typing on his laptop on one hand and indicated for the play book with the other. She dropped the book in his legs and when he looked up to snap, she covered his mouth with hers, plucked the book from his lap and handed it out with that… SMILE again.
That very same day, after practice, he was packing his duffel bag when she walked in one door, paused to kiss him under the corner of the jaw, and walked right out without one word or glance.
The next day he was ready for her. The day after that, too. And everyday after for damn near a week but she STILL managed to catch him by surprise because he was about to go down to the field when she pointed out one of his cleats were untied. Then she bent down to tie it for him and he was about to snap that he wasn’t some fucking kid except when she stood up, he could feel her uniform brushing against his body and she leaned in on tiptoes and this time he thought he was ready for this but when he tried to claim her mouth she snuck her tongue right in and he was going to wrestle control away, REALLY, but there were hands at his waist and- hello, did she just squeeze his ass?
And then she ignored him for another two days. Until they got into their usual ‘fucking manager/stop calling me that’ argument and she stopped it by placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. Well, fuck yeah, he lost his train of thought! It’s a friggin’ indignity for the most infamous high schooler in the district to be kissed on the nose like some… puppy, some sticky little kid!
But it pretty much got to the point where- and Hiruma was pretty much mortified to realize this –he was making sure he was FREE when they were alone. He’d watch her when she swept and he worked and he was aware of where she was when he was bent over his shoes and if they were in sort of close proximity he made certain his hands were empty.
Of course, she had to take it a step he wasn’t too certain she would actually do. Like… talking to him. During school. In public. Not about football. Or his recent abuse of Sena-who-wasn’t-playing-the-game-so-why-are-you-picking-on-him?
She caught up to him as he was getting ready to head down to the clubhouse, stood next to him as they talked about… whatever it was because he wasn’t paying attention to the words, just to her and watching her and he WOULD be ready this time, dammit. He watched her angle her hips a little, as she brushed her hair from her face and her hand lingering a little too long at her collar, when she nibbled her lower lip slightly, smiling at some of her friends, how she leaned against the wall when they reached his cubby, the way her hand almost touched his when they stopped at hers, how she’d sometimes lick her lips because it was a dry day and the curve of her lips when she… when she…
When she smiled that smile because she caught him staring at her- godDAMMIT!
Hiruma snarled, stretching out his legs and hightailing it to his one sanctity in this dammed school. He slammed the clubhouse door behind him and kicked at the table, swearing a blue streak. He shoved his hands in his pockets and the door opened up. He turned, already knowing who it was, and one hand slammed the door again, the other shoved Mamori against the wall.
“Fucking manager,” and maybe it was a growl or… or something, but mainly it was muffled against her lips and she opened up readily under him and it had to be so fucking unfair that she was ready for HIM.
He thought maybe she giggled at him and maybe it was because of thumb rubbing circles on her hip through her skirt but he deepened the kiss anyway, his other hand lightly pulling at the hair on the back of her neck and her hands gripping at his shoulders or neck or shirt or wherever they went, he didn’t know, didn’t really care.
“Don’t,” he managed to whisper somewhere between lips and teeth and tongue and that taste that wired his brain, “fucking tease me.”
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Rating: PG-13 and steaming
Word Count: 789
Characters: Hiruma, Mamori
Summary: A sequel of sorts to A Little Attention. Because this kind of Mamori is very surprisingly FUN.
Hiruma had come to the conclusion that few things entertained Mamori like catching him by surprise. Like that first time she surprised him with a kiss he couldn’t get that immensely satisfied look out of his mind as he struggled to regain the power of speech.
Another time, days later, he was typing on his laptop on one hand and indicated for the play book with the other. She dropped the book in his legs and when he looked up to snap, she covered his mouth with hers, plucked the book from his lap and handed it out with that… SMILE again.
That very same day, after practice, he was packing his duffel bag when she walked in one door, paused to kiss him under the corner of the jaw, and walked right out without one word or glance.
The next day he was ready for her. The day after that, too. And everyday after for damn near a week but she STILL managed to catch him by surprise because he was about to go down to the field when she pointed out one of his cleats were untied. Then she bent down to tie it for him and he was about to snap that he wasn’t some fucking kid except when she stood up, he could feel her uniform brushing against his body and she leaned in on tiptoes and this time he thought he was ready for this but when he tried to claim her mouth she snuck her tongue right in and he was going to wrestle control away, REALLY, but there were hands at his waist and- hello, did she just squeeze his ass?
And then she ignored him for another two days. Until they got into their usual ‘fucking manager/stop calling me that’ argument and she stopped it by placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. Well, fuck yeah, he lost his train of thought! It’s a friggin’ indignity for the most infamous high schooler in the district to be kissed on the nose like some… puppy, some sticky little kid!
But it pretty much got to the point where- and Hiruma was pretty much mortified to realize this –he was making sure he was FREE when they were alone. He’d watch her when she swept and he worked and he was aware of where she was when he was bent over his shoes and if they were in sort of close proximity he made certain his hands were empty.
Of course, she had to take it a step he wasn’t too certain she would actually do. Like… talking to him. During school. In public. Not about football. Or his recent abuse of Sena-who-wasn’t-playing-the-game-so-why-are-you-picking-on-him?
She caught up to him as he was getting ready to head down to the clubhouse, stood next to him as they talked about… whatever it was because he wasn’t paying attention to the words, just to her and watching her and he WOULD be ready this time, dammit. He watched her angle her hips a little, as she brushed her hair from her face and her hand lingering a little too long at her collar, when she nibbled her lower lip slightly, smiling at some of her friends, how she leaned against the wall when they reached his cubby, the way her hand almost touched his when they stopped at hers, how she’d sometimes lick her lips because it was a dry day and the curve of her lips when she… when she…
When she smiled that smile because she caught him staring at her- godDAMMIT!
Hiruma snarled, stretching out his legs and hightailing it to his one sanctity in this dammed school. He slammed the clubhouse door behind him and kicked at the table, swearing a blue streak. He shoved his hands in his pockets and the door opened up. He turned, already knowing who it was, and one hand slammed the door again, the other shoved Mamori against the wall.
“Fucking manager,” and maybe it was a growl or… or something, but mainly it was muffled against her lips and she opened up readily under him and it had to be so fucking unfair that she was ready for HIM.
He thought maybe she giggled at him and maybe it was because of thumb rubbing circles on her hip through her skirt but he deepened the kiss anyway, his other hand lightly pulling at the hair on the back of her neck and her hands gripping at his shoulders or neck or shirt or wherever they went, he didn’t know, didn’t really care.
“Don’t,” he managed to whisper somewhere between lips and teeth and tongue and that taste that wired his brain, “fucking tease me.”
