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31_days2005-11-12 04:05 am
go-hifreann-lea.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-11-12 04:05 am
[Nov. 12] [Eyeshield 21] Caught
Title: Caught
Day/Theme: Nov. 12th / A kiss, and the end of the world
Series: Eyeshield 21
Character/Pairing: Hiruma/Mamori, Sena
Rating: PG-13
Note: Mind you, I've only read until chapter 53, so if I've got details wrong, oh well.
He pressed her against the wall, too close to those teeth of this. Then again, when they went for her neck, she melted into a little puddle of ‘fuckin’ manager.’
Still, she knew the two of them shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, where anyone and their mother could come and catch them. How could she live with herself if everyone knew she was doing these kinds of things with him?
With Hiruma.
She couldn’t ever make herself stop, though. She vowed that she would, every time she came home from a ‘strategy planning meeting,’ that the next time he kissed her there and touched her here, she would push him away. Or better yet, not come to the ‘meeting’ at all!
But then he’d slam his feet up on the table, and look at her as if he wanted to take her right then. She’d end up bringing up the ‘meeting’ herself.
Of course Sena, Kurita and Monta were completely oblivious. It was better that way. She wouldn’t be able to stand the looks they’d give her if they knew. Especially Sena.
It wasn’t that Sena didn’t like Hiruma! If you spent the same amount of time that you did with the blond as Sena did, it was wholly impossible to hate him. You can’t hate pure dedication.
Sena just wouldn’t understand. He would comprehend what it felt like to finally give in to the blond.
“Hiruma,” she half moaned, pressing her hands against his chest, pushing only slightly. She couldn’t walk around with a hickey all day.
He broke away, and she could make out a malicious grin on his face as he brought his face to her eyelevel. “Y’know, I love it when you say my name when you’re horny.”
“Whaaaat?!” she screeched, pushing on his chest as hard as she could.
That smirk didn’t move an inch. Well, perhaps it got a little wider. “Do you want me to repea—”
“MAMORI-NEE-SAN?!”
She froze. Oh my god, she thought desperately. Oh no, how could I let this happen? She couldn’t even find the courage to look past the cocky blond bastard standing in front of her.
“Sena?” she murmured lowly, hoping against hope that he’d answer—
“You shouldn’t do these kinds of things during lunch!” he exclaimed, rushing towards them. When she could finally see his face, Mamori was surprised to see that his face didn’t seem to display anything akin to displeasure. “Himura, she’s a disciplinary committee officer, you can’t drag her—”
She jumped back when Himura suddenly kicked the small boy in the face. “I’ll do what I fucking want with my woman!”
“I’m not your woman! You don’t own me, Himura!” she yelled, hitting him on the head. It was such a habit, she realized. She hadn’t even had to really think about it; her arm had seemed to move of its own accord.
Then she ran over to where Sena was kneeling, holding his nose. She glared at the blond from over her shoulder. “And don’t hit Sena! He’s not one of your American football buddies, okay?!” She quickly pulled Sena to his feet and began half-dragging him to the nurse.
“Mamori-nee-san, I’m fine!” She could barely make out his muffled cries from behind his hands. She completely ignored his blubbering until they were far enough away from where they’d left Himura howling with laughter.
Then she turned on him, her eyes wide with surprise and anxiety. “You don’t hate me, right?”
Sena blinked several times, looking more like a deer caught in headlights than anything else. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”
She sighed loudly, sounding exasperated. “Because Himura was kissing me!” When she realized what she’d let out so loudly, she quickly covered her mouth, as if it would force the words back in. Then she glanced around carefully, making sure no one but Sena had heard.
She turned back to find Sena blushing profusely. “Erm, Mamori-nee-san . . . Himura already informed us of your . . . relationship.”
Blink. Blink. Blink. “Eh?” That was a particularly intelligent remark from the honors student Anezaki Mamori. “What do mean he already informed you?”
Sena cleared his throat, not even daring to look her in the eye as he answered awkwardly. “Well, he told Kurita, Monta, and I . . . erm, that you and him had, um, hadsexthenightbeforeandthatifweeventhoughtoftouchingyouweweredead.” Then Sena split, and his run would have looked awfully familiar if Mamori hadn’t been occupied at the moment. . .
“HE DID WHAT?!”
Day/Theme: Nov. 12th / A kiss, and the end of the world
Series: Eyeshield 21
Character/Pairing: Hiruma/Mamori, Sena
Rating: PG-13
Note: Mind you, I've only read until chapter 53, so if I've got details wrong, oh well.
He pressed her against the wall, too close to those teeth of this. Then again, when they went for her neck, she melted into a little puddle of ‘fuckin’ manager.’
Still, she knew the two of them shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, where anyone and their mother could come and catch them. How could she live with herself if everyone knew she was doing these kinds of things with him?
With Hiruma.
She couldn’t ever make herself stop, though. She vowed that she would, every time she came home from a ‘strategy planning meeting,’ that the next time he kissed her there and touched her here, she would push him away. Or better yet, not come to the ‘meeting’ at all!
But then he’d slam his feet up on the table, and look at her as if he wanted to take her right then. She’d end up bringing up the ‘meeting’ herself.
Of course Sena, Kurita and Monta were completely oblivious. It was better that way. She wouldn’t be able to stand the looks they’d give her if they knew. Especially Sena.
It wasn’t that Sena didn’t like Hiruma! If you spent the same amount of time that you did with the blond as Sena did, it was wholly impossible to hate him. You can’t hate pure dedication.
Sena just wouldn’t understand. He would comprehend what it felt like to finally give in to the blond.
“Hiruma,” she half moaned, pressing her hands against his chest, pushing only slightly. She couldn’t walk around with a hickey all day.
He broke away, and she could make out a malicious grin on his face as he brought his face to her eyelevel. “Y’know, I love it when you say my name when you’re horny.”
“Whaaaat?!” she screeched, pushing on his chest as hard as she could.
That smirk didn’t move an inch. Well, perhaps it got a little wider. “Do you want me to repea—”
“MAMORI-NEE-SAN?!”
She froze. Oh my god, she thought desperately. Oh no, how could I let this happen? She couldn’t even find the courage to look past the cocky blond bastard standing in front of her.
“Sena?” she murmured lowly, hoping against hope that he’d answer—
“You shouldn’t do these kinds of things during lunch!” he exclaimed, rushing towards them. When she could finally see his face, Mamori was surprised to see that his face didn’t seem to display anything akin to displeasure. “Himura, she’s a disciplinary committee officer, you can’t drag her—”
She jumped back when Himura suddenly kicked the small boy in the face. “I’ll do what I fucking want with my woman!”
“I’m not your woman! You don’t own me, Himura!” she yelled, hitting him on the head. It was such a habit, she realized. She hadn’t even had to really think about it; her arm had seemed to move of its own accord.
Then she ran over to where Sena was kneeling, holding his nose. She glared at the blond from over her shoulder. “And don’t hit Sena! He’s not one of your American football buddies, okay?!” She quickly pulled Sena to his feet and began half-dragging him to the nurse.
“Mamori-nee-san, I’m fine!” She could barely make out his muffled cries from behind his hands. She completely ignored his blubbering until they were far enough away from where they’d left Himura howling with laughter.
Then she turned on him, her eyes wide with surprise and anxiety. “You don’t hate me, right?”
Sena blinked several times, looking more like a deer caught in headlights than anything else. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”
She sighed loudly, sounding exasperated. “Because Himura was kissing me!” When she realized what she’d let out so loudly, she quickly covered her mouth, as if it would force the words back in. Then she glanced around carefully, making sure no one but Sena had heard.
She turned back to find Sena blushing profusely. “Erm, Mamori-nee-san . . . Himura already informed us of your . . . relationship.”
Blink. Blink. Blink. “Eh?” That was a particularly intelligent remark from the honors student Anezaki Mamori. “What do mean he already informed you?”
Sena cleared his throat, not even daring to look her in the eye as he answered awkwardly. “Well, he told Kurita, Monta, and I . . . erm, that you and him had, um, hadsexthenightbeforeandthatifweeventhoughtoftouchingyouweweredead.” Then Sena split, and his run would have looked awfully familiar if Mamori hadn’t been occupied at the moment. . .
“HE DID WHAT?!”