Title: Oral Fixation
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Notes: ...heh...still not a sequel to Scrapes. But this popped into my head so suddenly, and I couldn't resist the urge to write it. Not so much humour this time 'round – I went for a more serious approach. I'm still experimenting with writing styles, trying to figure out which one best fits me and the WK-verse.
Summary: There's a feature about Schu that sticks out more then any other.
Xposted to LJ community: schuken
First posted: Feb 6 2006
Breathtakingly beautiful. So much so that it makes my chest ache just to look at him. Something like that...someone like him should have been out of my league. It always makes me look at him in wonder...why I made the cut, why I seem to measure up.
Really...he should have been out of my reach. But he's not...I'm not.
What's funnier is that his looks aren't even the first thing I ever noticed about him. Battling each other on rooftops, chasing his evil partners, trying to figure out a way to escape his presence...and the only thing I could ever really focus on was his mouth.
But it's the truth. I see him in clubs now, and I know everyone is looking at the exotic foreigner and whispering about how his hair looks so long and soft and wondering what it would be like to run their fingers through a waterfall of brightly colored silk.
Or they watch his lean form on the dance floor, taut body encased in even tighter leather, spinning under the caress of the strobing lights and imagine themselves running their hands over hard muscles, gripping and stroking, watching his abdomen tense under their touch, wanting to be the one to give him the pleasure he deserves.
I've even heard women talk about piercing electric blue eyes that seem to look right through them, seeing past the caked on makeup and strips of fabric masquerading as clothing, seeing into their minds, their souls, making them shiver from the inside out.
But all I can see is his mouth.
It's a little too wide for his face. His lips are thin and pale, unless he chews on the bottom one as he has a habit of doing when he's thinking about something. It's really not something one would normally think of fixating on, you know?
I've seen him smile – the corners of his mouth curving upwards – and I've seen him outright grin; it takes over his entire face. I've seen him sneer at a stupid question, and smirk smugly at someone he's gotten the best of. I know he's upset when his lips thin out even more, the corners dipping down so slightly you can't tell unless you have extended experience in noting these kinds of things. When he's angry, his mouth is pinched, a trace of white lining the upper lip.
I know he's scared when he clenches his jaw and his lower lip trembles just a little, enough to make me want to capture it with my own and reassure him that everything always turns out okay in the end.
It's not just his voice – that nasally sound that rasps with anger when he's trying to prove something to the world, or purrs like the kitten he accuses me of being when I rub my hand along his spine.
I can see his passion when when his lips form an 'o' and a gasp stutters past his lips, hearing my name as soft as baby breath.
It's a stupid reason really, when the first thing you notice is a person's mouth. But on nights when the moonlight streams through my bedroom window, glinting off white teeth, seeing that wide mouth grinning at me in the darkness...
All I want is that mouth, on me, whispering words I never thought I could hear again, licking, probing, tasting, and it makes me feel alive...
It's enough to make me stop wondering.