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lysapadinTitle: Morning People
Characters/Pairings: Gokudera/Haru
Summary: Haru is a morning person; Gokudera isn't. But he manages to cope with that.
Notes: Adult for smut. For Porn Battle XI, prompt Gokudera/Haru: morning, languid. 2198 words.
~~~~~~~~~~
Morning People
Haru had a thing for the morning sunlight—was, in fact, a morning person, God help him—which meant that most mornings, Hayato woke up to the sun in his eyes long before anything like a civilized hour. He'd tried suggesting curtains for the bedroom windows, but Haru hadn't taken the hint. "We would miss the light!" she'd chirped, completely overlooking his point, and that had pretty much been that.
She had, however, found him a coffeemaker that could be programmed and that made a not-unacceptable cup of coffee. Perhaps it had been a concession after the curtains victory, or perhaps it was her tacit acknowledgement that Hayato was not, nor ever would be, much of a morning person. In any case, when the morning sun jabbed him in the eyeballs and woke him up, it was easier to bear the indignity of it if the scent of coffee was already hanging in the air, and a relatively simple matter to shuffle into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee to help himself face the curse that was the early morning.
Haru, of course, generally slept right through dawn and Hayato's bleary-eyed rummaging for coffee, which he supposed just about figured.
Sometimes he took his mug of coffee (and the insulated carafe of coffee) back to their bedroom to sip his coffee while he watched the sun come up. Haru sprawled out when she slept; the sun gilded the places where her bare skin wasn't covered by the blankets. It was a scenic sort of view; that and about half a cup of coffee were generally enough to reconcile Hayato to the awful necessities of being awake. Sort of, anyway. At least there were compensations... although his particular compensation had a bad habit of waking up, stealing his coffee from him, taking a few sips, and then demanding to know how on earth he could stand to drink the stuff.
"You just don't appreciate what's good," Hayato told her. He supposed he could have asked her why she was still retaining custody of his mug, and why the remains of his coffee were disappearing so rapidly if it didn't taste good. But sometimes logic wasn't really the appropriate approach to take, after all. And besides, he had the carafe sitting on the nightstand; once she surrendered his mug again, he'd be able to pour himself another cup.
However, Haru didn't seem much inclined to surrender his mug on this particular morning. She wriggled herself around and propped herself against the pillows, cradling it against her breasts, and argued, "I appreciate what's good! And this isn't." She wrinkled her nose. "It manages to smell good, so why can't it taste as good as it smells?"
"It does." Hayato held up a finger as she started to open her mouth. "And for God's sake, don't bring up the tea argument again."
Haru pouted at him. "Well, tea does manage it."
"Tea doesn't have any flavor, so how would you even tell?"
Haru rolled her eyes. "You have no appreciation for subtlety, is the thing."
"I appreciate subtlety just fine," Hayato argued. "I just like to be able to taste what I'm drinking."
Haru raised an eyebrow at him and then cast a doubting glance at the mug. "So... what, you lost all your taste buds in a freak accident years ago and this is how you cope with your loss?" She set the cup down—on her side of the bed, Hayato noted, dismayed—and sat up to stretch, languid. That was enough to distract him from the coffee; he traced the line of her spine down her back with his eyes as she ran her hands through the disheveled mess of her hair. The sun lit her up in gold and cream; perhaps the lack of curtains was worth it after all.
Haru glanced at him, eyebrows dancing up—right, right, he should have said something about the taste buds crack by now—and then smiled. "You are so not subtle," she remarked as she turned herself to lean across the blankets and kiss him. Her mouth tasted like coffee, his coffee, and was eager against his, because Haru was a morning person.
But then, Hayato supposed that there could be benefits to that. Haru slid herself closer when he reached for her, leaning into him and making a pleased sound against his mouth when he ran his hand down her back. She was soft against his chest and her kisses were open as he kissed the taste of coffee right out of her mouth. She broke away as he ran his hand over the curve of her ass. "You don't have an early meeting with Tsuna-kun today, right?"
"We don't meet till later," Hayato said, squeezing her ass and getting a squeak of laughter for it. "Why do you ask?"
"Why do you think I ask?" Haru spread her palms against his chest, tracing her thumbs along the lines of his muscles. Her glance up at him was full of laughter and purpose. "I think I have plans for you."
Hayato settled his hands on her hips and pulled her into his lap. "Do I get a say in these plans?"
Haru came willingly, kicking the sheets down the bed and straddling his lap. "I think you've already cast your vote," she noted. She dropped a hand between them and gave his cock a little squeeze, which pulled a groan out of him. "Or was I wrong?"
Hayato eyed her. "Not very wrong." He leaned his head against the headboard and retaliated by covering her breasts with his hands, playing with them until her eyelashes fluttered over her eyes and her lips parted for the sounds she made. Hayato liked how that looked and how her breasts filled his palms perfectly as her breath came faster and she arched into his touch. She leaned back when he bent his head to kiss the slope of her breasts, letting him steady her with a hand at the small of her back, and groaned with the way he stroked his mouth over them. "God," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "God, Hayato..."
"So, these plans." Hayato nuzzled the hollow between her breasts. "What were they?"
Haru's laugh was breathless. "I think you've already figured them out."
"Have I?" Hayato settled a hand on her thigh and ran his thumb along the crease of it. Her breath hitched as he stroked it down; then she whined when he kept going, sliding it down the inside of her thigh. "Maybe you should refresh my memory."
"You are a horrible man," Haru informed him. She took a hand from his shoulder to find his cock again and tease her fingertips over the head. Hayato groaned with how lightly she was touching him, just barely brushing over his skin. "I hope you know that."
Hayato traced his thumb up and down the inside of her thigh and nipped at her earlobe. "Made my peace with that years ago."
"Of course you did." Haru tolerated his teasing for a moment longer before pushing herself back, away from him, to sprawl against the blankets while he blinked at the sudden withdrawal. She pushed herself up onto an elbow and drew a knee up; she fit her other hand between her thighs. "So." Her voice dropped, turning huskier as she touched herself. "I was thinking that you might like to fuck me, but if you're going to be a tease about it, I guess I can take care of it myself."
Hayato snorted, watching her. "You realize we can both play that game, right?" He dropped a hand to his cock, matching the stroke of his fingers to the rhythm she was setting for herself, and smirked when her eyes sparked.
Then Haru dropped her head back and huffed at the ceiling. "Why do boys have to be so dense?" When she lifted her head again, she spread her knees wide, too. "Hayato. Stop being so damn stubborn and come have sex with me already."
Some imp of the perverse suggested being stubborn, just to see what she would do; Hayato contemplated that impulse for a split-second before common sense took over and told him that doing that would be a damn stupid idea. "Well, if you put it like that..." He moved to lean over her; Haru still looked exasperated right up until the moment he kissed her again. Hayato settled his own hand between her thighs, nudging her fingers aside so he could stroke her himself. She gasped against his mouth and closed her hands on his back, gripping it as she rocked herself against his hand. Hayato stroked her firmly, till she was panting his name, tone open and desperate, before she cried out and dug her fingers into his back as she came apart.
Hayato leaned over her, watching her afterwards: she lay against the sheets, skin gleaming damply in the morning sunlight, flushed and glowing. When she opened her eyes, it was to give him a smile. "Okay," she said, husky, "that works, too."
"Thought it might—shit!" Hayato swore when she ran her hand down his body to wrap around his cock. "God, woman, warn a man, will you?"
"But I like surprising you." Haru was smiling, mischief in her eyes; with a warning like that, Hayato couldn't be too surprised when she pushed at his shoulder until he rolled over onto his back. That was fine, too; Haru leaned over him, breasts pressing against him as she kissed him again, and kept moving her hand up and down his cock. Hayato groaned into his mouth as that pulled heat through him, and again when she said, low, "I can't decide. Do I want to ride you? Or just bring you off with my mouth?"
"Jesus," Hayato said as those suggestions pulled him taut; it was a near thing to keep himself from coming right then and there.
Haru loosened her grip and played her fingers over him. "Do you have a preference?" she inquired, tone all academic interest except for the faint huskiness of it.
He groaned again, looking up at her and the way the sunlight made a halo around her. That decided him. "Over me," he said. "I want to see you."
Haru made a pleased sound. "That works for me." She kissed him again before throwing a knee over his hips. The sun lit up every glorious centimeter of her skin; Hayato's breath caught as he looked at her. Then it whooshed out of him on a groan as Haru fit his cock against her and sank down on it. She sighed, eyes falling half-closed as her body closed around him, slick and tight. Hayato had to pant for breath at the pleasure that rolled up his spine just from that.
Haru smiled down at him as he murmured her name reverently and began to move, rolling her hips against his. The steady motion of them made him shudder with how good it felt, how beautiful she was balanced across his hips like that. He reached for her and smoothed his hands over her hips, running them up her body to touch her breasts as she rocked over him. She groaned, low and approving, and moved faster, harder, driving herself down against him and breathing his name with each stroke. Hayato wanted to keep going, to watch her move over him, bathed in the morning sunlight forever, but the heat caught up with him too quickly, sweeping down on him in a long rush.
Haru made a sound as he groaned and his hips bucked under hers; she slid her fingers down, stroking herself. The sight of that alone made Hayato gasp, heat rippling through him as she worked herself, moving her fingers in quick, short strokes. Then she shuddered, arching over him, and her body closed tighter on his, wringing another spasm of pleasure out of him.
"Jesus," Hayato groaned as Haru let herself sprawl across his chest.
"Mmhm." Haru wriggled against him, making a sound that was very nearly a purr. "I think we should call in to work today, how about you?"
Hayato wasn't entirely ashamed of the fact that he gave the suggestion serious thought for at least a minute. "No," he said, not without regrets, once his sense of duty had finally managed to wrestle down the urge to go along with what was clearly an excellent idea. "I really shouldn't. We're going to be working on the Cetrulli thing today."
Haru sighed. "Stupid Cetrulli." She pulled herself off him. Hayato was entirely inclined to agree with that assessment as he watched her slide out of bed and stretch. "I need a shower." Haru glanced over her shoulder, mouth curving. "So do you. Wouldn't it be efficient if we took one together?"
"And you tell me I'm not subtle?" Hayato asked, even though he was already rolling out of bed to join her.
Haru just laughed and let him chase her into the bathroom.
And, as it turned out, both of them were late to work that day.
end
Comments are always enjoyed! Comment here at Dreamwidth using OpenID, or at LiveJournal.
Characters/Pairings: Gokudera/Haru
Summary: Haru is a morning person; Gokudera isn't. But he manages to cope with that.
Notes: Adult for smut. For Porn Battle XI, prompt Gokudera/Haru: morning, languid. 2198 words.
Morning People
Haru had a thing for the morning sunlight—was, in fact, a morning person, God help him—which meant that most mornings, Hayato woke up to the sun in his eyes long before anything like a civilized hour. He'd tried suggesting curtains for the bedroom windows, but Haru hadn't taken the hint. "We would miss the light!" she'd chirped, completely overlooking his point, and that had pretty much been that.
She had, however, found him a coffeemaker that could be programmed and that made a not-unacceptable cup of coffee. Perhaps it had been a concession after the curtains victory, or perhaps it was her tacit acknowledgement that Hayato was not, nor ever would be, much of a morning person. In any case, when the morning sun jabbed him in the eyeballs and woke him up, it was easier to bear the indignity of it if the scent of coffee was already hanging in the air, and a relatively simple matter to shuffle into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee to help himself face the curse that was the early morning.
Haru, of course, generally slept right through dawn and Hayato's bleary-eyed rummaging for coffee, which he supposed just about figured.
Sometimes he took his mug of coffee (and the insulated carafe of coffee) back to their bedroom to sip his coffee while he watched the sun come up. Haru sprawled out when she slept; the sun gilded the places where her bare skin wasn't covered by the blankets. It was a scenic sort of view; that and about half a cup of coffee were generally enough to reconcile Hayato to the awful necessities of being awake. Sort of, anyway. At least there were compensations... although his particular compensation had a bad habit of waking up, stealing his coffee from him, taking a few sips, and then demanding to know how on earth he could stand to drink the stuff.
"You just don't appreciate what's good," Hayato told her. He supposed he could have asked her why she was still retaining custody of his mug, and why the remains of his coffee were disappearing so rapidly if it didn't taste good. But sometimes logic wasn't really the appropriate approach to take, after all. And besides, he had the carafe sitting on the nightstand; once she surrendered his mug again, he'd be able to pour himself another cup.
However, Haru didn't seem much inclined to surrender his mug on this particular morning. She wriggled herself around and propped herself against the pillows, cradling it against her breasts, and argued, "I appreciate what's good! And this isn't." She wrinkled her nose. "It manages to smell good, so why can't it taste as good as it smells?"
"It does." Hayato held up a finger as she started to open her mouth. "And for God's sake, don't bring up the tea argument again."
Haru pouted at him. "Well, tea does manage it."
"Tea doesn't have any flavor, so how would you even tell?"
Haru rolled her eyes. "You have no appreciation for subtlety, is the thing."
"I appreciate subtlety just fine," Hayato argued. "I just like to be able to taste what I'm drinking."
Haru raised an eyebrow at him and then cast a doubting glance at the mug. "So... what, you lost all your taste buds in a freak accident years ago and this is how you cope with your loss?" She set the cup down—on her side of the bed, Hayato noted, dismayed—and sat up to stretch, languid. That was enough to distract him from the coffee; he traced the line of her spine down her back with his eyes as she ran her hands through the disheveled mess of her hair. The sun lit her up in gold and cream; perhaps the lack of curtains was worth it after all.
Haru glanced at him, eyebrows dancing up—right, right, he should have said something about the taste buds crack by now—and then smiled. "You are so not subtle," she remarked as she turned herself to lean across the blankets and kiss him. Her mouth tasted like coffee, his coffee, and was eager against his, because Haru was a morning person.
But then, Hayato supposed that there could be benefits to that. Haru slid herself closer when he reached for her, leaning into him and making a pleased sound against his mouth when he ran his hand down her back. She was soft against his chest and her kisses were open as he kissed the taste of coffee right out of her mouth. She broke away as he ran his hand over the curve of her ass. "You don't have an early meeting with Tsuna-kun today, right?"
"We don't meet till later," Hayato said, squeezing her ass and getting a squeak of laughter for it. "Why do you ask?"
"Why do you think I ask?" Haru spread her palms against his chest, tracing her thumbs along the lines of his muscles. Her glance up at him was full of laughter and purpose. "I think I have plans for you."
Hayato settled his hands on her hips and pulled her into his lap. "Do I get a say in these plans?"
Haru came willingly, kicking the sheets down the bed and straddling his lap. "I think you've already cast your vote," she noted. She dropped a hand between them and gave his cock a little squeeze, which pulled a groan out of him. "Or was I wrong?"
Hayato eyed her. "Not very wrong." He leaned his head against the headboard and retaliated by covering her breasts with his hands, playing with them until her eyelashes fluttered over her eyes and her lips parted for the sounds she made. Hayato liked how that looked and how her breasts filled his palms perfectly as her breath came faster and she arched into his touch. She leaned back when he bent his head to kiss the slope of her breasts, letting him steady her with a hand at the small of her back, and groaned with the way he stroked his mouth over them. "God," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "God, Hayato..."
"So, these plans." Hayato nuzzled the hollow between her breasts. "What were they?"
Haru's laugh was breathless. "I think you've already figured them out."
"Have I?" Hayato settled a hand on her thigh and ran his thumb along the crease of it. Her breath hitched as he stroked it down; then she whined when he kept going, sliding it down the inside of her thigh. "Maybe you should refresh my memory."
"You are a horrible man," Haru informed him. She took a hand from his shoulder to find his cock again and tease her fingertips over the head. Hayato groaned with how lightly she was touching him, just barely brushing over his skin. "I hope you know that."
Hayato traced his thumb up and down the inside of her thigh and nipped at her earlobe. "Made my peace with that years ago."
"Of course you did." Haru tolerated his teasing for a moment longer before pushing herself back, away from him, to sprawl against the blankets while he blinked at the sudden withdrawal. She pushed herself up onto an elbow and drew a knee up; she fit her other hand between her thighs. "So." Her voice dropped, turning huskier as she touched herself. "I was thinking that you might like to fuck me, but if you're going to be a tease about it, I guess I can take care of it myself."
Hayato snorted, watching her. "You realize we can both play that game, right?" He dropped a hand to his cock, matching the stroke of his fingers to the rhythm she was setting for herself, and smirked when her eyes sparked.
Then Haru dropped her head back and huffed at the ceiling. "Why do boys have to be so dense?" When she lifted her head again, she spread her knees wide, too. "Hayato. Stop being so damn stubborn and come have sex with me already."
Some imp of the perverse suggested being stubborn, just to see what she would do; Hayato contemplated that impulse for a split-second before common sense took over and told him that doing that would be a damn stupid idea. "Well, if you put it like that..." He moved to lean over her; Haru still looked exasperated right up until the moment he kissed her again. Hayato settled his own hand between her thighs, nudging her fingers aside so he could stroke her himself. She gasped against his mouth and closed her hands on his back, gripping it as she rocked herself against his hand. Hayato stroked her firmly, till she was panting his name, tone open and desperate, before she cried out and dug her fingers into his back as she came apart.
Hayato leaned over her, watching her afterwards: she lay against the sheets, skin gleaming damply in the morning sunlight, flushed and glowing. When she opened her eyes, it was to give him a smile. "Okay," she said, husky, "that works, too."
"Thought it might—shit!" Hayato swore when she ran her hand down his body to wrap around his cock. "God, woman, warn a man, will you?"
"But I like surprising you." Haru was smiling, mischief in her eyes; with a warning like that, Hayato couldn't be too surprised when she pushed at his shoulder until he rolled over onto his back. That was fine, too; Haru leaned over him, breasts pressing against him as she kissed him again, and kept moving her hand up and down his cock. Hayato groaned into his mouth as that pulled heat through him, and again when she said, low, "I can't decide. Do I want to ride you? Or just bring you off with my mouth?"
"Jesus," Hayato said as those suggestions pulled him taut; it was a near thing to keep himself from coming right then and there.
Haru loosened her grip and played her fingers over him. "Do you have a preference?" she inquired, tone all academic interest except for the faint huskiness of it.
He groaned again, looking up at her and the way the sunlight made a halo around her. That decided him. "Over me," he said. "I want to see you."
Haru made a pleased sound. "That works for me." She kissed him again before throwing a knee over his hips. The sun lit up every glorious centimeter of her skin; Hayato's breath caught as he looked at her. Then it whooshed out of him on a groan as Haru fit his cock against her and sank down on it. She sighed, eyes falling half-closed as her body closed around him, slick and tight. Hayato had to pant for breath at the pleasure that rolled up his spine just from that.
Haru smiled down at him as he murmured her name reverently and began to move, rolling her hips against his. The steady motion of them made him shudder with how good it felt, how beautiful she was balanced across his hips like that. He reached for her and smoothed his hands over her hips, running them up her body to touch her breasts as she rocked over him. She groaned, low and approving, and moved faster, harder, driving herself down against him and breathing his name with each stroke. Hayato wanted to keep going, to watch her move over him, bathed in the morning sunlight forever, but the heat caught up with him too quickly, sweeping down on him in a long rush.
Haru made a sound as he groaned and his hips bucked under hers; she slid her fingers down, stroking herself. The sight of that alone made Hayato gasp, heat rippling through him as she worked herself, moving her fingers in quick, short strokes. Then she shuddered, arching over him, and her body closed tighter on his, wringing another spasm of pleasure out of him.
"Jesus," Hayato groaned as Haru let herself sprawl across his chest.
"Mmhm." Haru wriggled against him, making a sound that was very nearly a purr. "I think we should call in to work today, how about you?"
Hayato wasn't entirely ashamed of the fact that he gave the suggestion serious thought for at least a minute. "No," he said, not without regrets, once his sense of duty had finally managed to wrestle down the urge to go along with what was clearly an excellent idea. "I really shouldn't. We're going to be working on the Cetrulli thing today."
Haru sighed. "Stupid Cetrulli." She pulled herself off him. Hayato was entirely inclined to agree with that assessment as he watched her slide out of bed and stretch. "I need a shower." Haru glanced over her shoulder, mouth curving. "So do you. Wouldn't it be efficient if we took one together?"
"And you tell me I'm not subtle?" Hayato asked, even though he was already rolling out of bed to join her.
Haru just laughed and let him chase her into the bathroom.
And, as it turned out, both of them were late to work that day.
end
Comments are always enjoyed! Comment here at Dreamwidth using OpenID, or at LiveJournal.
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Date: 3 February 2011 01:29 (UTC)no subject
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Date: 3 February 2011 17:37 (UTC)