storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2010-02-04 08:18 am
storypaint) wrote2010-02-04 08:18 am
[xxxHOLiC] Biting (Clow/Yuuko)
Title: Biting
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 708 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
prompt_in_a_box: If this bottle could talk, love on the rocks; comment_fic: xxxHOLiC, Clow/Yuuko, tequila makes her clothes fall off
Pairing: Clow/Yuuko
Other: Vague sexual references; drunkenness.
Excerpt: After the first glass, Yuuko abandoned her silk wrap carelessly upon the couch. By the third her shoes had been unlaced, and because they were Victorian, the type one needed boot hooks for, the unlacing had been time-consuming and giggly; Clow had stolen kisses, pressing them into the arch of her foot in payment for every time she squirmed.
It took Clow a surprising length of time to realize it; after all, the situation was rarely enough the same, and generally he came to visit Yuuko when he was already a little drunk. But the fifth or perhaps the eighth or tenth time that their drinking consisted primarily of tequila, he figured out that it made Yuuko very drunk.
She was the first woman he'd ever met whose tolerance for alcohol matched his own; indeed, there were some days when her tongue was just as sharp when he was sopping and slurring. She always enjoyed those times the most, he suspected, when his rapier wit was dull and his normally placid personality even more calm. She drank wine some nights like it was water, or sake while they played chess and still sometimes won. Tequila-- tequila, however, was another story.
Clow was not particularly fond of the salt biting taste of it, but he'd gotten the bottle in exchange for a spell he'd woven (a fine one, too, to find a lady's ring, which had dropped into a crack of the kitchen floorboards). There was no need to waste it. The alcohol pushed the visions away for long enough for it to be worthwhile.
After the first glass, Yuuko abandoned her silk wrap carelessly upon the couch. By the third her shoes had been unlaced, and because they were Victorian, the type one needed boot hooks for, the unlacing had been time-consuming and giggly; Clow had stolen kisses, pressing them into the arch of her foot in payment for every time she squirmed.
There was a quarter of the bottle left and Yuuko's usual carefully arranged dishabille was only dishevelment now (which Clow thought just as beautiful; perhaps more so). Her hair was down and loose and she'd stripped down to her slip, a filmy creation of black silk that slid up her legs to dangerous heights. She was curled up in his lap, kissing him sweetly and affectionately when she remembered to, and she hadn't even been pretending to dislike him for the better part of an hour, so he knew she had to be very soused.
"Yuuko," he said gently, "you are drunk."
"And how is that unusual?" she answered, tucking her head into his shoulder.
"It is not particularly unusual," he said, stroking her hair, as thin and soft as dandelion fluff under his hands, and enjoying the way that she didn't smack him away. "But generally you pass out before now."
"Mm," she said, leaning into his fingers. "But there's still liquor left."
He laughed. "It will keep," he said, "and if it goes flat it is no great loss. It has made you into quite a stranger."
"What?" she whined in protest, sounding more like herself, and he chuckled again.
"Come on," he said. "Time for bed."
She did not really stumble, like one might suspect, but that was more likely due to the fact that she was leaning closely on him, their fingers laced. He rubbed his thumb absently against her hand, making her smile a little.
He thought about going home, but she pulled him into bed after her, in such a way that there was no protest. He landed on top of her with a huff and she hardly let him catch his breath before she was kissing him again. It took him a moment to pull away and get his bearings, but he did. It certainly wouldn't be right of him to take advantage of her excessive affection if he wasn't at least as drunk and being as taken advantage of.
"Tomorrow," he said, humming cheerfully and kissing her on the forehead. After another short protest she consented to sleep, as long as he was the small spoon, and he didn't mind having her arms wrapped around him. Tequila or not, he thought he would have no bad dreams that night.
Now, in the morning, when Yuuko woke him with a whining hangover and various accusations, his sleep would not be so peaceful. But he would treasure this time, this opportunity to rest.
It would be something to tease her about, anyway. She sighed contentedly as she settled against his back, and he drifted off with a smile.
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 708 words
Prompt:
prompt_in_a_box: If this bottle could talk, love on the rocks; comment_fic: xxxHOLiC, Clow/Yuuko, tequila makes her clothes fall offPairing: Clow/Yuuko
Other: Vague sexual references; drunkenness.
Excerpt: After the first glass, Yuuko abandoned her silk wrap carelessly upon the couch. By the third her shoes had been unlaced, and because they were Victorian, the type one needed boot hooks for, the unlacing had been time-consuming and giggly; Clow had stolen kisses, pressing them into the arch of her foot in payment for every time she squirmed.
It took Clow a surprising length of time to realize it; after all, the situation was rarely enough the same, and generally he came to visit Yuuko when he was already a little drunk. But the fifth or perhaps the eighth or tenth time that their drinking consisted primarily of tequila, he figured out that it made Yuuko very drunk.
She was the first woman he'd ever met whose tolerance for alcohol matched his own; indeed, there were some days when her tongue was just as sharp when he was sopping and slurring. She always enjoyed those times the most, he suspected, when his rapier wit was dull and his normally placid personality even more calm. She drank wine some nights like it was water, or sake while they played chess and still sometimes won. Tequila-- tequila, however, was another story.
Clow was not particularly fond of the salt biting taste of it, but he'd gotten the bottle in exchange for a spell he'd woven (a fine one, too, to find a lady's ring, which had dropped into a crack of the kitchen floorboards). There was no need to waste it. The alcohol pushed the visions away for long enough for it to be worthwhile.
After the first glass, Yuuko abandoned her silk wrap carelessly upon the couch. By the third her shoes had been unlaced, and because they were Victorian, the type one needed boot hooks for, the unlacing had been time-consuming and giggly; Clow had stolen kisses, pressing them into the arch of her foot in payment for every time she squirmed.
There was a quarter of the bottle left and Yuuko's usual carefully arranged dishabille was only dishevelment now (which Clow thought just as beautiful; perhaps more so). Her hair was down and loose and she'd stripped down to her slip, a filmy creation of black silk that slid up her legs to dangerous heights. She was curled up in his lap, kissing him sweetly and affectionately when she remembered to, and she hadn't even been pretending to dislike him for the better part of an hour, so he knew she had to be very soused.
"Yuuko," he said gently, "you are drunk."
"And how is that unusual?" she answered, tucking her head into his shoulder.
"It is not particularly unusual," he said, stroking her hair, as thin and soft as dandelion fluff under his hands, and enjoying the way that she didn't smack him away. "But generally you pass out before now."
"Mm," she said, leaning into his fingers. "But there's still liquor left."
He laughed. "It will keep," he said, "and if it goes flat it is no great loss. It has made you into quite a stranger."
"What?" she whined in protest, sounding more like herself, and he chuckled again.
"Come on," he said. "Time for bed."
She did not really stumble, like one might suspect, but that was more likely due to the fact that she was leaning closely on him, their fingers laced. He rubbed his thumb absently against her hand, making her smile a little.
He thought about going home, but she pulled him into bed after her, in such a way that there was no protest. He landed on top of her with a huff and she hardly let him catch his breath before she was kissing him again. It took him a moment to pull away and get his bearings, but he did. It certainly wouldn't be right of him to take advantage of her excessive affection if he wasn't at least as drunk and being as taken advantage of.
"Tomorrow," he said, humming cheerfully and kissing her on the forehead. After another short protest she consented to sleep, as long as he was the small spoon, and he didn't mind having her arms wrapped around him. Tequila or not, he thought he would have no bad dreams that night.
Now, in the morning, when Yuuko woke him with a whining hangover and various accusations, his sleep would not be so peaceful. But he would treasure this time, this opportunity to rest.
It would be something to tease her about, anyway. She sighed contentedly as she settled against his back, and he drifted off with a smile.
no subject
no subject