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[Yukan Club] storm lights (Seishiro/Miroku)
Title: storm lights
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Yukan Club
Pairing: Seishiro/Miroku
Notes: I was inspired to write this by #41 of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
becroberts' 50 first lines ficlet set.
Disclaimer: not my boys, no money made.
Concrit appreciated.
The Yukan Club ended up having to stay after school in order to take care of some of the preparations for the school festival the following month. However, after an hour Yuri, stomach rumbling, had confessed to hunger, and had fled home for her midafternoon meal.
Then Bido had looked at his watch, and then his little black book, and then his watch again, before declaring that he had a date to pick up and would they mind if he left? He would finish his work tomorrow.
So he had gone, and at the two-hours mark Karen had started whining about how her mother was meeting with a very wealthy family interested in buying some very expensive jewelry, and since they had a reputedly-handsome son Karen really wanted to be there…
Noriko was too polite to make a face, but she did tell Karen that she should go, since obviously Karen wouldn’t be able to get more work done if she was busy thinking about a potential marriage.
An hour after Karen left, the skies opened up with the storm that had been threatening all day started pouring down, and they had to run around, closing the windows that had been left open to try to get any sort of cross-breeze in the humidity.
Noriko had ended up soaking wet after a gust of wind blew a bucket’s worth of water onto her, so at Seishiro’s urging she called her house and a car was sent to pick her up; at the same time Miroku called in a favor from a friend who worked at a ramen shop and persuaded him to deliver dinner for him and Seishiro, despite the weather.
Dinner arrived right as Noriko’s car left with her in it; Miroku paid the delivery man and came back to the club room to find the remaining paperwork neatly divided into two piles that were pushed slightly to the side to leave room for dinner, so long as neither of them minded working through the meal and the noise of the storm outside.
Miroku pointedly ignored his pile and started eating; Seishiro just as pointedly reached across a stack of binders and set a pen down, with a deliberate clack, next to Miroku’s bowl.
“I know you can eat left-handed,” Miroku said through a mouthful of noodles, “but I can’t eat and work at the same time. Sorry.”
“You merely haven’t had enough reason to,” Seishiro remarked, not looking up from the sheet he was writing on.
Miroku didn’t deign to respond and turned back to his dinner, and then winced when a tree scraped against the glass of the window.
Ten minutes later, he set down his chopsticks and pushed his bowl away, sliding his stack of papers back in front of him and starting to read them.
He was about halfway through his stack, and Seishiro was nearly finished, when the lights flickered and then went out. Miroku cursed; in the flashing illumination of the bolt of lightning that followed quickly after that, he saw Seishiro set down his pen, and then everything turned black again.
Miroku felt his way around to standing up from his chair, shuffling around the room with his arms stuck in front of him while he tried to find the box where he would have put the flashlight he used to get a better look at the insides of computers.
Seishiro beat him to it, going to the cabinet by the wall and pulling out a candle and lighting it with the matches placed helpfully in the same drawer. The light was just enough, when Seishiro walked closer to Miroku, to help Miroku find the flashlight.
It was not, as Miroku had been half-afraid, out of batteries; the light was steady and bright. Seishiro left the candle burning, though.
“I’m gonna go find the fuse box in the basement,” Miroku said. “See if I can’t fix it.” He fished around in the box of supplies for a pair of insulated pliers.
Seishiro, from where he was throwing away the remains of dinner, mused, “I somehow doubt it. It looks like the whole neighborhood went.”
Miroku glanced out the window; as always, none of the other buildings were visible through it because of the foliage surrounding the Student Council room. “Sure, there’re no lights out there, but that’s because there are trees in the way.”
“Are you sure?” Seishiro slipped the candle into a glass stand and set it on the table. “I always seem to be able to see something at night.” He took a few steps to the window, and Miroku went too, mostly out of curiosity.
“Might as well turn the flashlight off, too,” Seishiro murmured, reaching to flip the switch on the handle himself, warm fingers sliding against Miroku’s, “since it makes it impossible to see into the night.”
Miroku peered out into the darkness, sliding one knee onto the window ledge where Noriko and Seishiro sat to play go. Something cracked, painfully bright, in his vision and the glass rumbled with the roar of the thunder that followed it, and, shaking the shock out of his body, he realized that Seishiro was standing behind him, close enough to feel his heat against the cold air coming from the window, Seishiro’s fingers wrapped around Miroku’s wrist.
“Maybe it would be safer not to try to turn the power back on,” Seishiro mused. “All those stairs, in the darkness. Probably better to wait out the storm.”
Miroku flexed his wrist, thinking, and slid his other knee onto the ledge, because the steps weren’t quite the right height to match his legs and he was getting uncomfortable. Seishiro’s fingers slid up from his wrist to near his elbow, bunching up the cloth of his uniform jacket, each finger-pad a point of warmth against Miroku’s skin.
“All right,” Miroku said, exhaling, toeing off his boots and letting them drop to the floor before turning so that he could kneel on the ledge, Seishiro’s hand sliding from his elbow across his shoulder to rest at the back of his neck, thumb running along the tendons there. “There’d better be condoms, though.”
Seishiro swore, hand leaving Miroku’s skin, and there were sudden quick footsteps across the room and shuffling noises as Seishiro started hunting for them in the drawers in the corners. The candle gave off just enough light that Seishiro might, possibly, have been able to see what he was looking at; to give him an incentive to go faster, Miroku went for his own belt, and was quietly glad that Seishiro couldn't see what was left of Miroku's paperwork to make him go finish it first.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Yukan Club
Pairing: Seishiro/Miroku
Notes: I was inspired to write this by #41 of
becroberts' 50 first lines ficlet set.Disclaimer: not my boys, no money made.
Concrit appreciated.
The Yukan Club ended up having to stay after school in order to take care of some of the preparations for the school festival the following month. However, after an hour Yuri, stomach rumbling, had confessed to hunger, and had fled home for her midafternoon meal.
Then Bido had looked at his watch, and then his little black book, and then his watch again, before declaring that he had a date to pick up and would they mind if he left? He would finish his work tomorrow.
So he had gone, and at the two-hours mark Karen had started whining about how her mother was meeting with a very wealthy family interested in buying some very expensive jewelry, and since they had a reputedly-handsome son Karen really wanted to be there…
Noriko was too polite to make a face, but she did tell Karen that she should go, since obviously Karen wouldn’t be able to get more work done if she was busy thinking about a potential marriage.
An hour after Karen left, the skies opened up with the storm that had been threatening all day started pouring down, and they had to run around, closing the windows that had been left open to try to get any sort of cross-breeze in the humidity.
Noriko had ended up soaking wet after a gust of wind blew a bucket’s worth of water onto her, so at Seishiro’s urging she called her house and a car was sent to pick her up; at the same time Miroku called in a favor from a friend who worked at a ramen shop and persuaded him to deliver dinner for him and Seishiro, despite the weather.
Dinner arrived right as Noriko’s car left with her in it; Miroku paid the delivery man and came back to the club room to find the remaining paperwork neatly divided into two piles that were pushed slightly to the side to leave room for dinner, so long as neither of them minded working through the meal and the noise of the storm outside.
Miroku pointedly ignored his pile and started eating; Seishiro just as pointedly reached across a stack of binders and set a pen down, with a deliberate clack, next to Miroku’s bowl.
“I know you can eat left-handed,” Miroku said through a mouthful of noodles, “but I can’t eat and work at the same time. Sorry.”
“You merely haven’t had enough reason to,” Seishiro remarked, not looking up from the sheet he was writing on.
Miroku didn’t deign to respond and turned back to his dinner, and then winced when a tree scraped against the glass of the window.
Ten minutes later, he set down his chopsticks and pushed his bowl away, sliding his stack of papers back in front of him and starting to read them.
He was about halfway through his stack, and Seishiro was nearly finished, when the lights flickered and then went out. Miroku cursed; in the flashing illumination of the bolt of lightning that followed quickly after that, he saw Seishiro set down his pen, and then everything turned black again.
Miroku felt his way around to standing up from his chair, shuffling around the room with his arms stuck in front of him while he tried to find the box where he would have put the flashlight he used to get a better look at the insides of computers.
Seishiro beat him to it, going to the cabinet by the wall and pulling out a candle and lighting it with the matches placed helpfully in the same drawer. The light was just enough, when Seishiro walked closer to Miroku, to help Miroku find the flashlight.
It was not, as Miroku had been half-afraid, out of batteries; the light was steady and bright. Seishiro left the candle burning, though.
“I’m gonna go find the fuse box in the basement,” Miroku said. “See if I can’t fix it.” He fished around in the box of supplies for a pair of insulated pliers.
Seishiro, from where he was throwing away the remains of dinner, mused, “I somehow doubt it. It looks like the whole neighborhood went.”
Miroku glanced out the window; as always, none of the other buildings were visible through it because of the foliage surrounding the Student Council room. “Sure, there’re no lights out there, but that’s because there are trees in the way.”
“Are you sure?” Seishiro slipped the candle into a glass stand and set it on the table. “I always seem to be able to see something at night.” He took a few steps to the window, and Miroku went too, mostly out of curiosity.
“Might as well turn the flashlight off, too,” Seishiro murmured, reaching to flip the switch on the handle himself, warm fingers sliding against Miroku’s, “since it makes it impossible to see into the night.”
Miroku peered out into the darkness, sliding one knee onto the window ledge where Noriko and Seishiro sat to play go. Something cracked, painfully bright, in his vision and the glass rumbled with the roar of the thunder that followed it, and, shaking the shock out of his body, he realized that Seishiro was standing behind him, close enough to feel his heat against the cold air coming from the window, Seishiro’s fingers wrapped around Miroku’s wrist.
“Maybe it would be safer not to try to turn the power back on,” Seishiro mused. “All those stairs, in the darkness. Probably better to wait out the storm.”
Miroku flexed his wrist, thinking, and slid his other knee onto the ledge, because the steps weren’t quite the right height to match his legs and he was getting uncomfortable. Seishiro’s fingers slid up from his wrist to near his elbow, bunching up the cloth of his uniform jacket, each finger-pad a point of warmth against Miroku’s skin.
“All right,” Miroku said, exhaling, toeing off his boots and letting them drop to the floor before turning so that he could kneel on the ledge, Seishiro’s hand sliding from his elbow across his shoulder to rest at the back of his neck, thumb running along the tendons there. “There’d better be condoms, though.”
Seishiro swore, hand leaving Miroku’s skin, and there were sudden quick footsteps across the room and shuffling noises as Seishiro started hunting for them in the drawers in the corners. The candle gave off just enough light that Seishiro might, possibly, have been able to see what he was looking at; to give him an incentive to go faster, Miroku went for his own belt, and was quietly glad that Seishiro couldn't see what was left of Miroku's paperwork to make him go finish it first.
no subject
I have to say I'm with Miroku on this one - chopsticks + noodles + paperwork = twice as much paperwork! Hmm, I like the way it builds up, and the lights and the lightning, but I have to say the sudden mention of condoms threw me off my stride a bit. (If they hide them in the clubroom drawers, will Yuri not find them while scavenging for food? ^_^)
no subject
I have to say the sudden mention of condoms threw me off my stride a bit.
Yes, you have a point. Any suggestions?
(Seishiro's plan is to blame it on Bido, who if he protests will not be believed.)
no subject
No suggestions, I'm afraid. But you've built up this sort of slow, dark atmosphere with small movements, soft brushes in dim lighting, so throwing that in there kind of speeds things up, makes it feel rushed.
(Bido probably owns shares in a contraceptive factory.)
no subject
On the other hand, I don't necessarily think that Miroku is good at hanging around and waiting? Like - throughout this whole thing Seishiro is giving off this "my game, my rules, my seduction" vibe, at least to me, and Miroku's just gone, "all right, I see where you're going with this, and now it's my turn". From clueless to ready to go in an instant. And, I kind of feel, part of his reclamation of the situation is by surprising Seishiro.
I'm not sure how to get that across, or to soften things up a bit.
(Bido probably owns shares in several major companies, in fact.)