Like Flies In My Water Bottle
Like Flies In My Water Bottle
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style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>TITLE: Like Flies in my Water Bottle
PART: One-Shot
Drabble (Just to get the idea out of my head... so that I can go back to the
land of the sane once again... ^^;)
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>DISCLAIMERS: The series I’m referring to
does not belong to me… ^_^ only this weird story does.
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>* * *
mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>Like Flies in My Water Bottle
mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>* * *
day, Arai couldn’t seem to grasp the reason behind his startling – not to
mention disturbing, fixation.
tennis shoes, he tried recalling things that could possibly give him the
answers he desperately needed. Unfortunately, his mind was uncooperative... and
possibly very much unwilling.
thought, gritting his teeth as he grasped the end of his shirt and yanked it
upwards, taking it off, exposing his slight muscles that rippled with every
flex his biceps made. With a scowl that seemed permanently engraved between his
brows, he bounced the ball on the hard-packed dirt twice before hurtling it up
vertically into the air. Then, swinging his racket almost vehemently, he hit
his target, the ball colliding against the pressured strings so powerfully that
for a short moment, the surface of his prized possession seemed dented,
screaming in its own unique way with a loud thwack, sending the greenish-yellow
blob that was the ball across the court and onto the wire fence that surrounded
his playing area. I’m sick in every way possible.
overtime in one of the deserted street tennis courts every late afternoon to
shake off his tensed muscles... as well as his unfitting fascination about... No,
don’t think of him; don’t think of him, you stupid knucklehead!
his eyes to resemble the antique pendulum of his living room clock.
pictures still rolled into his tired brain.
not like them. In fact, what disturbed him was the way he seemed to like
them so much in a way he couldn’t quite describe – and he didn’t want to. The
image of those childishly smooth-looking legs came unbidden, and he wished for
the umpteenth time that he had chosen a court where there were installed
comfort rooms. He muttered an oath and promptly scolded the package inside his
shorts for being such a sensitive bastard. He let out a shuddering breath as he
accidentally brushed his clothed cock with the end of his tennis racket,
cursing even more as he stiffened as hot flashes shot through his system.
EN-IE\'>He desperately needed to cool down – NOW.yes\">
where his duffel bag lay undisturbed on the wooden benches, and with a sound
thud, he dropped beside it, rummaging inside and moaning lightly as he felt the
dampness of his towel-wrapped water bottle. The coolness of the rough cloth
comforted him somehow... and he found himself clutchat hat his water bottle as
if his life depended on it. With renewed determination, he uncapped the
protruding straw and took a huge slurp of cold water, letting out a groan after
gulping it down. He took another sip... and another... and then another,
revelling in the singular kind of peace it brought him, his hard-on finally dissolving
with ease as minutes slowly ticked past.
could feel a chill wind penetrate deep into his exposed skin. He needed to
dress up, or else he would get real sick. Reluctantly relinquishing his hold on
his apparent saviour, he rummaged once again and took out a huge green shirt.
Without any hesitation, he pulled it over his head and proceeded to primp
himself, worrying the unwanted creases silly, his fingers trying to smoothen
them away – all to no avail.
anyway; it’s close to sunset already.
green, he knew, only a bit cloaked by the shadows to resemble such colour.
across the chest area of his club shirt... For someone with two years of tennis
experience, the look isn’t so bad... It’s pretty interesting... a bit dorky,
but still interesting. Much like that kid’s shirt... yeah...
EN-IE\'>The focal point of his obsession was walking by the court, probably on
the way home. Soon enough, unwanted stirrings coursed through his body, making
him feel as if he was on fire. An image of small hands with quite a small
dosage of tennis experience caressing his hardened length aroused him to the
tenth power, and the exponent seemed to increase as a vivid mind video of a
quite wide a mouth swallowing him was enough to render him mindless.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>He could not do anything but stare, his eyes following the other boy’s
every movement.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>He could not breathe properly... even when the other boy was well beyond
the reach of his sharp eyesight.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>With deliberate slowness, he massaged his crotch and let out a keening cry
as he came a few moments later, with sweat streaming from his pores, his
exposed body glistening with it... and the front of his shorts wet with spent
passion.
EN-IE\'>
n lan lang=EN-IE style=\'mso-ansi-language:
EN-IE\'>Why did he have to be obsessed with the loudmouth anyway? What made him
want to just pull him underneath and fuck him senseless – or at least until he
cried out for mercy? He wasn’t much of a looker, so... why him?
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>His throat was dry... and it felt parched.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>He reached for his water bottle, uncapped it and chugged the refreshing
liquid faster than one could say ‘mania’.
EN-IE\'>
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>Maybe I should start liking normal things.
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>
And for the umpteenth time, he
hoped Inui would never know about it... if he did, he’s going to die.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>Mainly from embarrassment.
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>He raised his eyes heavenward and groaned, smacking his freehand against
his forehead.
EN-IE\'>
style=\'mso-ansi-language:EN-IE\'>Why does it have to be HORIO of all people?
EN-IE\'>
EN-IE\'>
* * *
A/N: Yeah,
yeah, I know. I’m officially demented... if I wasn’t then, now I am. The
thought just couldn’t leave my poor abused brain and I had to do something
about it. ^^;
EN-IE\'>