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Jul. 20th, 2009 01:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaOtoya licked the sharp curve of Takagi's chin. Takagi was spread out on the bed under him, one arm bent and disappearing underneath the white cased pillow, clutching hard at it. The other arm was tossed over Otoya's shoulder, Takagi's nails scratched over Otoya's back.
"I'm going to stretch you now." Otoya murmured, his sweaty hair stuck to his forehead and the side of his face, and Fujimaru nodded, arching his hips up into Otoya's eager hands. Otoya reached off to the side, fumbling for the little flip top of lube that they had dropped onto the bed when they had begun shedding clothes like leaves in fall. Otoya grabbed the little plastic bottle, luke warm in reality but feeling chill against his heated skin. Otoya's lips connected with Takagi's kissing him with closed eyes while he flipped open the bottle and poured it into his hands.
It was, of course, this moment that Takagi's cell-phone close to ring.
Otoya frowned, disengaging from the kiss and glancing from Fujimaru's clenched and frowning face to the cell-phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Both of them knew Fujimaru had to answer it, it could be from Fujimaru's sister (which always took priority) or from Third-I (who had put Fujimaru on retainer in the past year). "Sorry, Otoya." Fujimaru pecked Otoya on the lips and picked up his cellphone, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. "Takagi here."
Otoya flipped the cap back on the lube and smeared his hands over the sheets. If it was Third-I there was no hope of them continuing, if it was Fujimaru's sister, then they MIGHT pick it up again, so long as nothing had happened to her. If it was Aoi, they'd get right back to what they were doing.
Though judging from the way the blood drained from Takagi's face and the way his fingers clenched on the phone there was no way it was Aoi. Third-I, or something had happened.
"Is there something wrong with Haruka?" Otoya questioned worriedly, moving closer to Takagi. Fujimaru shook his head, his lips tight and bloodless.
"How did you get this number?" Fujimaru questioned, his voice low and angry. It sent a secret thrill through Otoya, but also made him realize just how bad things were. Fujimaru never sounded like that, hadn't sounded like that since… Dammit. "J," A pause, Otoya touched Fujimaru's shoulders, but they twitched angrily throwing off his hands. "Don't TALK about him, you don't have a ri- don't you DARE involve them. Stay away from her!" The way Fujimaru's words faded off revealed that he had been talking to air for the last few seconds. Angrily Fujimaru shut his cell-phone, then threw it across the room. The phone hit the wall hard and fell silent to the floor.
"You're going to need to buy another." Otoya spoke, to break the silent dread that had filled the room, as thick and sticky as molasses.
Fujimaru laughed, grimly, and flopped back onto the bed, one arm flopping over his eyes. "That totally ruined the mood, didn't it? I don't think I'll ever be able to get it up again."
Otoya got off the bed and wiped his hands on a nearby towel, they were still slippery with lube. "This is why I tell you not to answer your phone during sex. Do you know where my pants are? I assume you want to call Third-I."
Glumly Fujimaru dropped his arm from his eyes and pointed morosely over at the one lit lamp in the room, Otoya's dress pants hung off of them, his belt slipping out while they watched to land on the floor with a clunk.
"I'm going to stretch you now." Otoya murmured, his sweaty hair stuck to his forehead and the side of his face, and Fujimaru nodded, arching his hips up into Otoya's eager hands. Otoya reached off to the side, fumbling for the little flip top of lube that they had dropped onto the bed when they had begun shedding clothes like leaves in fall. Otoya grabbed the little plastic bottle, luke warm in reality but feeling chill against his heated skin. Otoya's lips connected with Takagi's kissing him with closed eyes while he flipped open the bottle and poured it into his hands.
It was, of course, this moment that Takagi's cell-phone close to ring.
Otoya frowned, disengaging from the kiss and glancing from Fujimaru's clenched and frowning face to the cell-phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Both of them knew Fujimaru had to answer it, it could be from Fujimaru's sister (which always took priority) or from Third-I (who had put Fujimaru on retainer in the past year). "Sorry, Otoya." Fujimaru pecked Otoya on the lips and picked up his cellphone, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. "Takagi here."
Otoya flipped the cap back on the lube and smeared his hands over the sheets. If it was Third-I there was no hope of them continuing, if it was Fujimaru's sister, then they MIGHT pick it up again, so long as nothing had happened to her. If it was Aoi, they'd get right back to what they were doing.
Though judging from the way the blood drained from Takagi's face and the way his fingers clenched on the phone there was no way it was Aoi. Third-I, or something had happened.
"Is there something wrong with Haruka?" Otoya questioned worriedly, moving closer to Takagi. Fujimaru shook his head, his lips tight and bloodless.
"How did you get this number?" Fujimaru questioned, his voice low and angry. It sent a secret thrill through Otoya, but also made him realize just how bad things were. Fujimaru never sounded like that, hadn't sounded like that since… Dammit. "J," A pause, Otoya touched Fujimaru's shoulders, but they twitched angrily throwing off his hands. "Don't TALK about him, you don't have a ri- don't you DARE involve them. Stay away from her!" The way Fujimaru's words faded off revealed that he had been talking to air for the last few seconds. Angrily Fujimaru shut his cell-phone, then threw it across the room. The phone hit the wall hard and fell silent to the floor.
"You're going to need to buy another." Otoya spoke, to break the silent dread that had filled the room, as thick and sticky as molasses.
Fujimaru laughed, grimly, and flopped back onto the bed, one arm flopping over his eyes. "That totally ruined the mood, didn't it? I don't think I'll ever be able to get it up again."
Otoya got off the bed and wiped his hands on a nearby towel, they were still slippery with lube. "This is why I tell you not to answer your phone during sex. Do you know where my pants are? I assume you want to call Third-I."
Glumly Fujimaru dropped his arm from his eyes and pointed morosely over at the one lit lamp in the room, Otoya's dress pants hung off of them, his belt slipping out while they watched to land on the floor with a clunk.
