Summary: SxH oneshot, kinda one-sided SxH. Non-con? Possibly, kinda.
Pairing: SxH, briefest mention of RxH, AxH.
Warnings: Some adult-y content.
They stumbled through the door, still intertwined, lip-locked and tongue-tied.
She ripped the buttons off his shirt in a few jerky movements, while he eagerly tugged down the straps of her dress.
Then they broke apart to kick off their shoes, the only sound in the dark apartment their harsh breathing as they finally managed to surface for air.
He paused a moment to stop and admire his handi-work.
She stood unsteadily dressed only in her under wear, her dishevelled hair and a tell-tale trail of love-bites a reminder of their struggle up the stairwell to his place.
And then before she had a moment to fight through the alcohol-induced haze in her mind, he began assaulting her mouth, roughly dragging his tongue across her lower lip in a bid to gain entrance, which she gave all-to-willingly.
Together they shuffled backwards until her knees hit the bed and they fell down together, she gasped at the fall but he was not deterred and instead took the opportunity to further explore her mouth, swallowing up her encouraging moans.
They stayed like that a while, him not stopping until her abused lips were red and raw–looking.
Silently he began to divest her of her clothing, not once saying a word, and neither she.
He was scared that she'd hear his voice and then she'd snap out of her drunken daze, and wonder why she was being ravaged by her 'Onii-san'.
And then it would end.
This wonderful dream, the fulfilment of is fantasies, and he couldn't let that happen. Not when he needed her.
Not when he needed her so much.
It didn't matter that she was drunk, and it didn't matter that tomorrow she'd wake up beside him and cry, wanting to forget and go running back to Ryoki or Azusu or whatever guy was currently using her.
What mattered was that it was here,
it was now,
it was real, and it was actually happening.
That she was here, and she didn't need him, she wanted him.
She wanted the heavy breathing,
his hands scraping up and down her sides,
his fingers leaving a burning trail up her back,
to awkwardly undo the clasp of her bra.
It didn't matter that she wouldn't tomorrow, what mattered was that, for now, she wanted him.
He knew she'd always needed him, the 'Big Brother', a protector and a guardian.
But that night after a bottle of Vodka and a few beers she'd gone from needing to wanting.
So he brushed aside his conscience and the childhood memories of a small pig-tailed girl smiling shyly up at her 'Onii-san', and focused on the writhing, naked girl on his bed, eyes glazed over and unfocused, her breath smelling of alcohol and her body of sweat.
Because today she had needed him, tonight she wanted him, and for now he'd pretend that tomorrow she'd need and want him as much he did her.
Review pls, SxH fans, did this suck?
If not I have the idea for a prequel.
Interested? Then shout out.