rabenhorst (
rabenhorst) wrote2007-11-30 02:43 pm
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Title: Reason to Exist
Author:
fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Die and Kaoru
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: It’s more like a drabble, 830 words, how am I supposed to give a summary to a drabble? It’s mostly porn-ish XD
Comments: I wrote this as a Christmas present for my dear
seinen_no, as I got the inspiration last night. I was staring at
rabenhorst’s current layout header, more specifically at Kaoru’s thighs and I just had to type this down at the same instant. It’s been ages since I actually wrote anything alone, so I’m kind of happy that I seem to be getting over the writer’s block finally. Just give it a try, please?^^
And feel free to add the journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive.
Reason to Exist
[Die’s POV]
There is something special in every single expression on Kaoru’s face, his every movement mattering and making difference. I noticed it already when we weren’t more than bandmates, more than friends, but when we got closer to each other it became more and more evident that he is a man who doesn’t use too many words but prefers to let his actions speak by themselves. It took me a good deal of time to learn to interpret him even somewhat, to learn what’s hidden behind his mask of secure and confident image.
When he plays the guitar, sitting on the couch in our studio, furrowing his brows and his back slightly hunched over his instrument, there’s the most intense concentrated expression on his face. I could watch him for hours, simply drinking in the sight of him when he’s creating something new, only the slightest changes in his expression showing that there’s something happening inside his mind, transforming into melodies and scribbled notes on the paper he holds beside him always.
Even more gorgeous he’s when he’s playing a live, his stage presence something so intense that it makes my knees go weak in the other end of the stage still, pulls my attention towards him during the breaks, the moments when music isn’t there so I can’t let myself flow with it. Although audience thinks his attention is on them, I know that’s not the truth. His attention is on the music, his whole soul drowned into the essence of what we, all five of us, create on stage.
During those moments he belongs to music. I used to be jealous, until I realized I can’t compete with it, I don’t need to compete with it. There’s room for both in his life, for me and the music. I know to be thankful, since as unconditionally as he gives himself to music he gives himself to me.
The most gorgeous he is when he's gasping out my name, trying to bite the insides of his cheeks not to show how badly he already needs more, how he would - if his pride would let him - beg for me to drive into him deeper, to fuck him harder. I love how he still tries to fight for composure, still tries to remain stoic but the mask is cracking inevitably with every movement of our joined bodies.
I have his legs wrapped around me, his thighs holding on my hips tight, in a vice like grip; urging, begging wordlessly what he would never utter out loud. His face is blurred by pleasure; lips parted slightly, eyes closed, his breathing coming in silent gasps. And there is no greater music than the low moan that falls from him when I move my hips again, forcing my way into the willing body before me.
His fingernails are leaving crescent marks on my shoulders, digging deep into the soft skin as he holds on knuckles white, desperate to channel some of the pressure from within that way. Again the thighs tighten to enable him to grind against me, to meet the thrust, to force me in deeper, just the way he wants it. Even when he’s seemingly submissive on some level he always remains in control, as I’m helpless but to yield to his wishes no matter how much I try to hold back.
The sound of skin meeting skin, ragged breathing and gasps for air fill the air, twining together into something I could never compose, no matter how hard I tried, how much I worked. It was always different yet always the same, always our own, something no one could ever imitate. Even we’re never able to re-create it exactly the same way, the familiar tune eventually slipping through our fingers like water and creating all new patterns.
I could enumerate all the things in him that hold me captive, that make me an addict, the drug being Niikura Kaoru. It would never end though, I could use a month and it would only scratch the surface of the things he is, the things he makes me go through. But beyond everything there is one thing, the thing everything comes back to eventually. It all results in the way how our fates are entwined together, no matter how much we struggle against it.
When he climaxes his eyes almost roll back in his head, a desperate outcry escaping him as he bends his head back, exposing his throat to me like an offering. I can barely resist the temptation to scrape my teeth over the white skin but then the decision is taken off me as I follow him over the edge, losing all sense and reason for those few blissful moments.
This is the moment when I know. This is the moment when he knows. This is the moment when something called ‘we’ exists on a level I would’ve never thought it’d be even possible.
He’s mine.
And I’m his.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Die and Kaoru
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: It’s more like a drabble, 830 words, how am I supposed to give a summary to a drabble? It’s mostly porn-ish XD
Comments: I wrote this as a Christmas present for my dear
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
And feel free to add the journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive.
[Die’s POV]
There is something special in every single expression on Kaoru’s face, his every movement mattering and making difference. I noticed it already when we weren’t more than bandmates, more than friends, but when we got closer to each other it became more and more evident that he is a man who doesn’t use too many words but prefers to let his actions speak by themselves. It took me a good deal of time to learn to interpret him even somewhat, to learn what’s hidden behind his mask of secure and confident image.
When he plays the guitar, sitting on the couch in our studio, furrowing his brows and his back slightly hunched over his instrument, there’s the most intense concentrated expression on his face. I could watch him for hours, simply drinking in the sight of him when he’s creating something new, only the slightest changes in his expression showing that there’s something happening inside his mind, transforming into melodies and scribbled notes on the paper he holds beside him always.
Even more gorgeous he’s when he’s playing a live, his stage presence something so intense that it makes my knees go weak in the other end of the stage still, pulls my attention towards him during the breaks, the moments when music isn’t there so I can’t let myself flow with it. Although audience thinks his attention is on them, I know that’s not the truth. His attention is on the music, his whole soul drowned into the essence of what we, all five of us, create on stage.
During those moments he belongs to music. I used to be jealous, until I realized I can’t compete with it, I don’t need to compete with it. There’s room for both in his life, for me and the music. I know to be thankful, since as unconditionally as he gives himself to music he gives himself to me.
The most gorgeous he is when he's gasping out my name, trying to bite the insides of his cheeks not to show how badly he already needs more, how he would - if his pride would let him - beg for me to drive into him deeper, to fuck him harder. I love how he still tries to fight for composure, still tries to remain stoic but the mask is cracking inevitably with every movement of our joined bodies.
I have his legs wrapped around me, his thighs holding on my hips tight, in a vice like grip; urging, begging wordlessly what he would never utter out loud. His face is blurred by pleasure; lips parted slightly, eyes closed, his breathing coming in silent gasps. And there is no greater music than the low moan that falls from him when I move my hips again, forcing my way into the willing body before me.
His fingernails are leaving crescent marks on my shoulders, digging deep into the soft skin as he holds on knuckles white, desperate to channel some of the pressure from within that way. Again the thighs tighten to enable him to grind against me, to meet the thrust, to force me in deeper, just the way he wants it. Even when he’s seemingly submissive on some level he always remains in control, as I’m helpless but to yield to his wishes no matter how much I try to hold back.
The sound of skin meeting skin, ragged breathing and gasps for air fill the air, twining together into something I could never compose, no matter how hard I tried, how much I worked. It was always different yet always the same, always our own, something no one could ever imitate. Even we’re never able to re-create it exactly the same way, the familiar tune eventually slipping through our fingers like water and creating all new patterns.
I could enumerate all the things in him that hold me captive, that make me an addict, the drug being Niikura Kaoru. It would never end though, I could use a month and it would only scratch the surface of the things he is, the things he makes me go through. But beyond everything there is one thing, the thing everything comes back to eventually. It all results in the way how our fates are entwined together, no matter how much we struggle against it.
When he climaxes his eyes almost roll back in his head, a desperate outcry escaping him as he bends his head back, exposing his throat to me like an offering. I can barely resist the temptation to scrape my teeth over the white skin but then the decision is taken off me as I follow him over the edge, losing all sense and reason for those few blissful moments.
This is the moment when I know. This is the moment when he knows. This is the moment when something called ‘we’ exists on a level I would’ve never thought it’d be even possible.
He’s mine.
And I’m his.
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i couldn't help but to notice that beautiful icon that makes me die of fangirlism and of nosebleeds *Q*
CHEERS for that[/quite pointless, rabid fangirl comment XD;]
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I love it!<3
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First of all, I'm so flattered that you wrote this for me and second, I still love the mood you manage to create with just a few words. And damn, the Kao bottom is so perfect. That's just how I would imagine him, still trying to remain in control just because of his pride. And Die? Die's just the only one to handle him, the only one who understands him completely.
And for some reason, the thing Die said about the audience thinking that they have Kao's undivided attention really got me. I can so imagine how in reality he's just lost in the music instead of paying attention to anything else.
*hugs tight* Thank you again for this damn hot present. Just the image of Kao's legs wrapped around Die is... *nosebleed*
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Exactly^^ heh, of course I have no idea what's going through him and I'm not claiming that audience doesn't matter too. But the main reason why he's there is the music, I can somehow so imagine him being concentrated mainly on it.
*hugs back tightly* Again, I'm just so glad you liked it! And thank you for dropping me a comment too :D I love you for that! Gosh, and yeah, Kao's legs around Die... *__*
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this was really lovely to read. I tend to disagree on the attention-audience-thing, coz he very well looks at the rows before him, just like Die does, but I just leave that to artistic freedom x). really lovely to read, thanks for sharing.
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heh, of course I'm not claiming that he's totally blind to the audience, it matters and he still sees it although his mind might be totally focused on the music. haha, but of course I have no idea what's going on in his head in reality XD Thank you for reading and for commenting, I'm glad to hear you liked.
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First of all, I loved it.
Second of all you rock, not many people can make me buy into that Kaoru as bottom thing (as you well know... xD) but this really really worked for me!
I noticed this at the beginning: [...let his actions speak by themselves] I think it should be: for themselves. (but I might be wrong.)
You should write more by yourself. Not that I don't love the fics you write with seinen_no but I dunno, this seemed a lot different from the stories I've read from you.
And now I'll go away from babbling here. This was my last excuse to avoid working... >_
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Thank you so much! You know, I take it as a huge compliment to make you like something with Kaoru being bottom ;) I considered even mentioning in the comment above sth about that but then I decided that you might not read if it I told you that beforehand XD I'm really glad you liked it!
Oh, you're right, that sounds better. I'll change it when I have the energy to log in to the other account XD
Thanks again^^ I used to write more by myself too, but now I've been fighting with writer's block and this is like the first thing I got out in a long time. So you can imagine how relieved I am that I at least got something written XD All I can say is that I promise I'll try to write more alone too^^
Aw, good luck for your school thing! You'll get it done, I'm sure *hugs*
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*_* So perfect... I love how Kaoru's still in control in a way although he lets himself be fucked by Die. <3~
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*glomps you tight* aaagh, I love the image you've put in my head.
You described Die and Kao just as I imagine it when Die's topping (yay for that btw, again..)
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I love Die being on top. Die doing the screwing but Kaoru is in control...I love it *___*
Seinen_no I'm jealous! No-one writes me anything this good. You have a fantastic partner in crime ^_____^
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I love the stuff about Kaoru's legs. *^* If there's one thing I love about that man aside from his eyes, its his legs. <3
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His legs are simply addictive! *__* And thank you so much for reading and commenting!
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but I liked this <3
It really shows the closeness of them i guess, beyong words =]
Kaoru's thighs... =P
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i really loved how you described everything(only one negative point, it makes you wish that you were there really badly...x) but that's just my fangirl-side speaking XP)
oh and the jealousy of the music thing is cute and funny and yet so real-ish
anyway i'm adding this to my favs, cause i want to be able to read thsi whenever i need som smexxing/fluff fics :DDDD
oh and one more thing, i'm very glad you've found your inspiration back :3
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Thank you! I take that as a really big compliment, or actually many of the things you said XD I'm just grinning like an idiot hehe... I'm glad you liked it! And believe me, I'm glad too I found my missing inspiration.
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A perfect mixture between love and passion plus the magic description that Die makes of Kaoru.
I always think that peoples to love to keep the control of everything, in their own, loves to be surrender to someone xDDD
good one-shot!
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*steals your Die and takes him out for a spin*
XD
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great enjoyable read. i'm content with this little "glimpse" into their dealio.
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Thank you so much! I'm happy to hear that you liked it^^