yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-11-18 05:15 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-11-18 05:15 pm
Entry tags:
177;
Title: Vinegar
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
Make you say, "Oh my."
Eco tastes like apple cider and - for some reason - strawberries. His lips are rough and chapped, not at all how Belca expected (for all of an effeminate appearance) and the situation sinks into him slowly. When he realizes the position he's in, it's already too late; Eco's let go of him, sitting on the edge of the bed now and flipping through the pages of his poetry book, evidently looking for a blank piece. He pauses half way through and fingers the rough edges where Belca ripped out a page to write his note, then continues, making a pleased hum when he finds a free spot.
Belca's on him before he can start writing; pushing him halfway off the bed, keeping him from slipping by sitting on his hips.
"Why did you--"
"I needed to know what your lips felt like! I can't write what I don't know, you know?"
Belca flushes scarlet - he was strawberry red before, strawberries that reminded him of (stop it, don't get on that train of thought!) - and grits his teeth.
"Why do you need to know that sort of thing?! It's not like you're going to write songs about that sort of thing!"
Eco looks sheepish - at least he had the sense to look sheepish - as he drops the book to the ground. His face is starting to turn pink from the blood rushing down to his head; Belca mistakes it for something else and turns a deeper shade that Eco's never seen before.
"I needed to know for a love song."
Belca forgets what he's about to say and splutters instead, scoots back and lets the damn bard fall headfirst onto the ground. Eco makes a pitiful sort of cry when he thumps to the ground, and Belca doesn't even bat an eye; he's busy pulling on his boots and scowling, willing the flush to go down already, it wasn't like Eco was serious, Eco was never serious about that--
It's a stark realization to realize that yes, Eco's serious about that sort of thing, and it just exacerbates the blush. When he turns around, the bard's picking himself (and his book) off the floor, rubbing his head with a sore sniff. Belca scowls - 'If he thinks that's cute, he's wrong.' - and pointedly ignores the hurt look Eco gives him.
He's faking it anyways, and Belca knows it.
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
Make you say, "Oh my."
Eco tastes like apple cider and - for some reason - strawberries. His lips are rough and chapped, not at all how Belca expected (for all of an effeminate appearance) and the situation sinks into him slowly. When he realizes the position he's in, it's already too late; Eco's let go of him, sitting on the edge of the bed now and flipping through the pages of his poetry book, evidently looking for a blank piece. He pauses half way through and fingers the rough edges where Belca ripped out a page to write his note, then continues, making a pleased hum when he finds a free spot.
Belca's on him before he can start writing; pushing him halfway off the bed, keeping him from slipping by sitting on his hips.
"Why did you--"
"I needed to know what your lips felt like! I can't write what I don't know, you know?"
Belca flushes scarlet - he was strawberry red before, strawberries that reminded him of (stop it, don't get on that train of thought!) - and grits his teeth.
"Why do you need to know that sort of thing?! It's not like you're going to write songs about that sort of thing!"
Eco looks sheepish - at least he had the sense to look sheepish - as he drops the book to the ground. His face is starting to turn pink from the blood rushing down to his head; Belca mistakes it for something else and turns a deeper shade that Eco's never seen before.
"I needed to know for a love song."
Belca forgets what he's about to say and splutters instead, scoots back and lets the damn bard fall headfirst onto the ground. Eco makes a pitiful sort of cry when he thumps to the ground, and Belca doesn't even bat an eye; he's busy pulling on his boots and scowling, willing the flush to go down already, it wasn't like Eco was serious, Eco was never serious about that--
It's a stark realization to realize that yes, Eco's serious about that sort of thing, and it just exacerbates the blush. When he turns around, the bard's picking himself (and his book) off the floor, rubbing his head with a sore sniff. Belca scowls - 'If he thinks that's cute, he's wrong.' - and pointedly ignores the hurt look Eco gives him.
He's faking it anyways, and Belca knows it.