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Aug. 11th, 2010 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaMihashi always felt exposed when he put on the suit. It wasn't like he wasn't USED to skin tight outfits, they were standard issue aboard the Oofuri. They were standard to any interstellar transport, but on a space station space (not as in the inky black kind but as in the kind needed to keep things) was at a premium. So the outfits seemed even skinnier, thinner fabric, and when you worked Information Management the suits seemed even thinner, the technology filled fabric slithered between your fingers, translucent before you pulled it on and activated it.
Then they glittered with information.
Headlines, bylines, authors, reporters, politicians, sound bites played when Mihashi twitched a muscle, flicked a finger. Whole news broadcasts could project from Mihashi's suit. All you had to do was pay for the privilege.
“Mihashi!” A strong arm clamps around Mihashi’s neck and Mihashi squawks like one of those white feathered birds he sees on nature documentaries. The arm tightens and then another arm wraps around Mihashi’s chest, hot chapped lips pressed against ear. “GOOD MORNING!”
It’s hard to breath with Tajima’s arms wrapped around his chest and neck but Mihashi manages to stutter out a strained ‘g-g-g-good morning Tajima!’ which gets him released by his enthusiastic coworker. Tajima walks past Mihashi and pulls the zip cord down on his standard suit before tossing it at Izumi, another one of their coworkers. The silky bright yellow fabric hits Izumi in the face.
“This stinks!” Izumi tosses the yellow fabric back into Tajima’s grinning face. “God, when was the last time you had it refreshed?”
“Couple days ago!” Tajima tosses the suit into his compressor compartment and pulls out his glittering information suit. “I’ve been spending my nights with this girl, she’s got the BEST ass and she sucks like a-“ Calloused hands cover Mihashi’s ears, blotting out the rest of Tajima’s words and filling Mihashi’s mind with the thump-thump of Abe’s heartbeat. Tajima might have been the best information seller on the station but Abe was the best partner Mihashi could have ever wished for. He sold more news with Abe as a partner than he’d ever sold.
The sound of Abe’s heartbeat drowns out Abe telling Tajima off for telling sordid stories and Hanai’s scolding of Tajima for spending his time with a strange girl only on the station for a few days. The memory of Abe’s rough hands on the sides of his face, fingers brushing Mihashi’s messy hair, the steady beat of his heartbeat keeps Mihashi distracted all day and into the night until the work day ends and Mihashi can strip off his too thin suit and curl into his tiny bunk, one hand fisting his cock purposefully.
Then they glittered with information.
Headlines, bylines, authors, reporters, politicians, sound bites played when Mihashi twitched a muscle, flicked a finger. Whole news broadcasts could project from Mihashi's suit. All you had to do was pay for the privilege.
“Mihashi!” A strong arm clamps around Mihashi’s neck and Mihashi squawks like one of those white feathered birds he sees on nature documentaries. The arm tightens and then another arm wraps around Mihashi’s chest, hot chapped lips pressed against ear. “GOOD MORNING!”
It’s hard to breath with Tajima’s arms wrapped around his chest and neck but Mihashi manages to stutter out a strained ‘g-g-g-good morning Tajima!’ which gets him released by his enthusiastic coworker. Tajima walks past Mihashi and pulls the zip cord down on his standard suit before tossing it at Izumi, another one of their coworkers. The silky bright yellow fabric hits Izumi in the face.
“This stinks!” Izumi tosses the yellow fabric back into Tajima’s grinning face. “God, when was the last time you had it refreshed?”
“Couple days ago!” Tajima tosses the suit into his compressor compartment and pulls out his glittering information suit. “I’ve been spending my nights with this girl, she’s got the BEST ass and she sucks like a-“ Calloused hands cover Mihashi’s ears, blotting out the rest of Tajima’s words and filling Mihashi’s mind with the thump-thump of Abe’s heartbeat. Tajima might have been the best information seller on the station but Abe was the best partner Mihashi could have ever wished for. He sold more news with Abe as a partner than he’d ever sold.
The sound of Abe’s heartbeat drowns out Abe telling Tajima off for telling sordid stories and Hanai’s scolding of Tajima for spending his time with a strange girl only on the station for a few days. The memory of Abe’s rough hands on the sides of his face, fingers brushing Mihashi’s messy hair, the steady beat of his heartbeat keeps Mihashi distracted all day and into the night until the work day ends and Mihashi can strip off his too thin suit and curl into his tiny bunk, one hand fisting his cock purposefully.
