endless_scrolls (
endless_scrolls) wrote2013-06-12 10:02 am
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Ano...
Title: Ano...
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Durarara!!
Word count: 1283
Character(s): Sonohara Anri, Kida Masaomi, Ryuugamine Mikado; brief mentions of Mikajima Saki
Pairing(s): Strong hints of Kida/Anri/Mikado
Warning(s): Implied secksy tymes~
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: 'A-ano...'
Dedicated to: ...*waits for it* B)
Pressure lifting from her nose and temples, the young girl squinted just the tiniest bit at the fuzzy world around her - Not that it would matter much and not that she didn't already know every inch of her one-room home - A single oil lamp stood proud and strong in all its seven inch glory to light up the entire apartment; just enough living space for the comfort of one, but barely room to even breathe for the three that now knelt on the tatami mats. But despite the discomfort of trying to find a place between them, Anri was happy.
If only she could see their faces to determine if they were just as content.
"Ano..." Carefully, she reached out towards the white and yellow blur to her left, seeking out the shadow of a boy that pulled away her glasses. "Kida-kun..."
"Ah-ah~" But instead of closing around the wire frame of her eye-wear, she felt rough and warm fingers grasp around her palm, light and gentle as if she were a baby duck. And for a brief moment, she mourned for him and the years wasted as leader of the Yellow Scarves. To be so young and to be held under such pressures... "We wouldn't want things to get in the way, now would we~?"
A soft rush of wind caressed over her cheek and the little bit of exposed neck, shadows shifting as a long, green sleeve came in and out of focus. "M... Masaomi, stop teasing her."
Mikado. She knew that worn track jacket anywhere; recognized that soft voice of concern and reason. And she felt comforted, if only for a moment.
It was followed by soft rustling and another quiet gust before feeling a different set of fingers pull at her hand, wrenching it away from Kida's grasp to turn it gently in his own. And in her palm, there settled the familiar weight and shape of her spectacles, folded neatly and no worse for the wear. Or so she hoped. "Pay no attention to him, Sempai. He's just kidding."
"But Mikado~ If I was, then just why are we here?" Here, she imagined him making some grand sweep of his arms around at her humble home. - Sparse of possessions beyond what was necessary, it was hardly a place to entertain more than one guest. - And it was in that moment that she realized that... Ryuugamine still held her hand in his, the heavy press of Kida's fingers closing over her own to complete the cage of flesh.
And just like that, it was as if the world felt complete in its broken beauty.
"Besides, she's fine with this, aren't you, Anri-chan? Sandwiched between the arms of your two princes, embraced in a warm and comfortable blanket of love you haven't felt since your parents were still alive." In true Kida fashion, the young girl felt the grip and tug of his arm as it easily slid around her shoulders, pulling her in close until she felt the soft fabric of his hood against her cheek; until she could smell the crisp scent of fabric softener and steamed rice. "Oh, it's just so romantic, how could you not want it~?"
Of course, she knew why they were here. Deep down, Anri understood the meaning behind Kida's words. She was shy, not naive. And despite all of her efforts to stay oblivious to the obvious, the former head of the Yellow Scarves had been persistent. And Mikado had been too frozen with uncertainty and fear to stop it, himself. So the choice had been left up to her whether or not to let it go on...
"A-ano..." Mindful of the glasses still folded up nice and neat in her palm, she made to carefully ease herself away from the enthusiastic blond, finding his grip easy and light despite the crushing embrace. He was not there to hurt her, after all. He was there because Kida cared. Because he always cared.
So, wasn't it time that someone cared for him, as well? "But... what about Saki-chan?"
There was a pause, the cool and gentle sweep of his thumb against the base of her neck stilling for just a brief moment before an equally soft sound rumbled deep in his chest. And then his long fingers were sliding up along her arm; was gently tilting her chin up until she could feel the weight of his gaze settle on hers, and drawing her in close enough to see his face come into focus. "As it turns out, there is someone I care about more..."
They were the deepest honey gold, catching the light of the oil lamp in just the right way to make them shine. And for one breath of time, they had her captivated. But in all their innocent honesty, she could see the layers hidden underneath: the sadness and loneliness. The flash of wanting as they shifted to the space just over her shoulder.
Mikado.
And, as if on cue, she felt the other's fingers slowly and carefully curl around her hand once more, gently prying away the glasses in her grip to set them carefully on the nearby table beside the lamp. As if he were still considering it, himself. As if he was still unsure of everything that was happening between them. Kida was the only one who was ever certain about anything. Who acted first and considered the consequences later. And it was then that she truly began to understand.
"O-oh..."
Her, with her parents long dead and buried. Mikado, a long way from home and living on his own, as well. And sweet Kida with a family so far apart from his life that he had to seek that missing comfort from street gangs and delinquents. They had no one but each other. She felt, rather than saw, Mikado slowly come to that conclusion as well, softer fingers curling around her palm once more. And she clung to that almost desperately as she felt the slow pull of Kida's arm around her waist.
"You... you, don't have to, Sonohara-san," the former murmured, a light weight falling on her shoulder to give it a gentle and assured squeeze. And then he stopped sort, struggling a moment with his words. "Uh... I mean, A-anri-chan."
It was sweet. It was everything she'd grown to know and care for in Mikado. And that, she could lean on, solidly and without doubt. Because in all of this - in all of the months while Kida was away - he had become her foundation and support. Just as the Yellow Scarves leader had become her limitless possibilities. And as her palm slowly moved up to carefully - shakingly - cup his cheek, she began to realize the undeniable truth.
Once, she had been the girl incapable of love, of feeling it or recognizing it in others. But with a little guidance and some small bit of effort, Anri was starting to believe such a claim was no longer true. She cared about them both, after all. And while it had been fine with it being just her and Mikado, the world hadn't seemed quite as complete. Not like now.
There was a slight hitch in her breath when she felt the light pressure against her neck, the warm press of his nose brushing along under the jawline. And Anri's cheeks started to light on fire from the blush. "K... Kida-kun..."
And a warm rush of air caressed along the lines and clavicles with his soft chuckle, a rough thumb stroking down along the pulse point in her neck. "I think you can start calling me Masaomi, now."
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Durarara!!
Word count: 1283
Character(s): Sonohara Anri, Kida Masaomi, Ryuugamine Mikado; brief mentions of Mikajima Saki
Pairing(s): Strong hints of Kida/Anri/Mikado
Warning(s): Implied secksy tymes~
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: 'A-ano...'
Dedicated to: ...*waits for it* B)
Pressure lifting from her nose and temples, the young girl squinted just the tiniest bit at the fuzzy world around her - Not that it would matter much and not that she didn't already know every inch of her one-room home - A single oil lamp stood proud and strong in all its seven inch glory to light up the entire apartment; just enough living space for the comfort of one, but barely room to even breathe for the three that now knelt on the tatami mats. But despite the discomfort of trying to find a place between them, Anri was happy.
If only she could see their faces to determine if they were just as content.
"Ano..." Carefully, she reached out towards the white and yellow blur to her left, seeking out the shadow of a boy that pulled away her glasses. "Kida-kun..."
"Ah-ah~" But instead of closing around the wire frame of her eye-wear, she felt rough and warm fingers grasp around her palm, light and gentle as if she were a baby duck. And for a brief moment, she mourned for him and the years wasted as leader of the Yellow Scarves. To be so young and to be held under such pressures... "We wouldn't want things to get in the way, now would we~?"
A soft rush of wind caressed over her cheek and the little bit of exposed neck, shadows shifting as a long, green sleeve came in and out of focus. "M... Masaomi, stop teasing her."
Mikado. She knew that worn track jacket anywhere; recognized that soft voice of concern and reason. And she felt comforted, if only for a moment.
It was followed by soft rustling and another quiet gust before feeling a different set of fingers pull at her hand, wrenching it away from Kida's grasp to turn it gently in his own. And in her palm, there settled the familiar weight and shape of her spectacles, folded neatly and no worse for the wear. Or so she hoped. "Pay no attention to him, Sempai. He's just kidding."
"But Mikado~ If I was, then just why are we here?" Here, she imagined him making some grand sweep of his arms around at her humble home. - Sparse of possessions beyond what was necessary, it was hardly a place to entertain more than one guest. - And it was in that moment that she realized that... Ryuugamine still held her hand in his, the heavy press of Kida's fingers closing over her own to complete the cage of flesh.
And just like that, it was as if the world felt complete in its broken beauty.
"Besides, she's fine with this, aren't you, Anri-chan? Sandwiched between the arms of your two princes, embraced in a warm and comfortable blanket of love you haven't felt since your parents were still alive." In true Kida fashion, the young girl felt the grip and tug of his arm as it easily slid around her shoulders, pulling her in close until she felt the soft fabric of his hood against her cheek; until she could smell the crisp scent of fabric softener and steamed rice. "Oh, it's just so romantic, how could you not want it~?"
Of course, she knew why they were here. Deep down, Anri understood the meaning behind Kida's words. She was shy, not naive. And despite all of her efforts to stay oblivious to the obvious, the former head of the Yellow Scarves had been persistent. And Mikado had been too frozen with uncertainty and fear to stop it, himself. So the choice had been left up to her whether or not to let it go on...
"A-ano..." Mindful of the glasses still folded up nice and neat in her palm, she made to carefully ease herself away from the enthusiastic blond, finding his grip easy and light despite the crushing embrace. He was not there to hurt her, after all. He was there because Kida cared. Because he always cared.
So, wasn't it time that someone cared for him, as well? "But... what about Saki-chan?"
There was a pause, the cool and gentle sweep of his thumb against the base of her neck stilling for just a brief moment before an equally soft sound rumbled deep in his chest. And then his long fingers were sliding up along her arm; was gently tilting her chin up until she could feel the weight of his gaze settle on hers, and drawing her in close enough to see his face come into focus. "As it turns out, there is someone I care about more..."
They were the deepest honey gold, catching the light of the oil lamp in just the right way to make them shine. And for one breath of time, they had her captivated. But in all their innocent honesty, she could see the layers hidden underneath: the sadness and loneliness. The flash of wanting as they shifted to the space just over her shoulder.
Mikado.
And, as if on cue, she felt the other's fingers slowly and carefully curl around her hand once more, gently prying away the glasses in her grip to set them carefully on the nearby table beside the lamp. As if he were still considering it, himself. As if he was still unsure of everything that was happening between them. Kida was the only one who was ever certain about anything. Who acted first and considered the consequences later. And it was then that she truly began to understand.
"O-oh..."
Her, with her parents long dead and buried. Mikado, a long way from home and living on his own, as well. And sweet Kida with a family so far apart from his life that he had to seek that missing comfort from street gangs and delinquents. They had no one but each other. She felt, rather than saw, Mikado slowly come to that conclusion as well, softer fingers curling around her palm once more. And she clung to that almost desperately as she felt the slow pull of Kida's arm around her waist.
"You... you, don't have to, Sonohara-san," the former murmured, a light weight falling on her shoulder to give it a gentle and assured squeeze. And then he stopped sort, struggling a moment with his words. "Uh... I mean, A-anri-chan."
It was sweet. It was everything she'd grown to know and care for in Mikado. And that, she could lean on, solidly and without doubt. Because in all of this - in all of the months while Kida was away - he had become her foundation and support. Just as the Yellow Scarves leader had become her limitless possibilities. And as her palm slowly moved up to carefully - shakingly - cup his cheek, she began to realize the undeniable truth.
Once, she had been the girl incapable of love, of feeling it or recognizing it in others. But with a little guidance and some small bit of effort, Anri was starting to believe such a claim was no longer true. She cared about them both, after all. And while it had been fine with it being just her and Mikado, the world hadn't seemed quite as complete. Not like now.
There was a slight hitch in her breath when she felt the light pressure against her neck, the warm press of his nose brushing along under the jawline. And Anri's cheeks started to light on fire from the blush. "K... Kida-kun..."
And a warm rush of air caressed along the lines and clavicles with his soft chuckle, a rough thumb stroking down along the pulse point in her neck. "I think you can start calling me Masaomi, now."