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writetomyheart2013-07-18 08:06 pm
rikikomori.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2013-07-18 08:06 pm
[team two] my songs know what you did in the dark
it's finals week so have some oc fic.
"Big dick," a voice sounds from next to him in fluent English, and Keito nearly chokes on his coffee milk. The girl turns to look at him, eyes wide like he was an alien instead of just another commuter. "You understood that?"
"Um." Keito looks between her and her friend—who's hiding her face with the magazine they'd been looking at—and finally nods.
"Sorry," she says coolly, like she's not embarrassed at all, and that confuses Keito more than anything. Any other girl would have apologized her head off, hoping she hadn't offended him, but this girl just shrugs it off. "You know English? That's cool. English is fucking hard. Respect."
Keito stares at her in awe. He's been around Americans before, but they're usually around his age. These women were older, though not by too much, and you wouldn't know it judging by their clothes. At least the one who still refuses to look at Keito seems to be reserved, but her friend just grins and looks happy that she has someone to talk to other than her.
"Cheri, stop," the friend hisses. "That's…"
Her voice gets too low for Keito to hear over the whirring of the train, but he sees her gesture toward the magazine and the other girl gasps dramatically, "Oh, no shit? His hair looks much better now."
She's staring back at him, which is only fair because he had been staring first, but it continues for a few long seconds and Keito clears his throat to reduce the awkwardness. "Your name is Chérie?" he asks conversationally, pronouncing the French word clearly. "How pretty."
"Not exactly," Cheri answers, not bothering to hide her amusement as she emphasizes the pronunciation of her name more like 'cherry'. "It's spelled C-H-E-R-I. My mother thought she was clever."
Keito nods again. He's fascinated by her. Her personality seems as big as her hair, which is thick and curly probably due to the humidity. He doesn't want to stop talking to her, but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to be a bother. Her friend looks uncomfortable enough already.
"Can you keep talking?" Cheri asks suddenly, and Keito tilts his head questioningly. "Not to be creepy or anything, but you have a really nice accent, so whatever you want to talk about, I'll listen."
Her friend brings her palm to her forehead, but Keito just smiles. "Okay," he says, proceeding to tell her about his classes and interests and opinions on American politics. She challenges some of his views and they get into a heated debate right there on the train, distracting Keito enough to miss his stop, but he's no longer planning on going home anyway.
Naturally, he bangs her. She's only in the country visiting, he'll never see her again, and in his defense she instigated it. And while Keito's been with a lot of girls since he's been attending university, he's never had one as insatiable as Cheri. He makes a mental note to warn Yabu that older women can go forever.
His entire body hurts when they're done, but she just stretches out in the bed next to him and sighs as she looks around the room. "I've always wanted to see the inside of a love hotel," she comments.
It's not the worst thing he's heard after sex, which makes sense considering the first words he'd ever heard her speak. Remembering what she and her friend had been looking at to warrant that statement, Keito elbows her playfully. "So who were you talking about on the train?"
"Hmm?" she replies, pushing her tangled hair out of her face to squint at him. "What do you mean?"
"You were looking at an idol magazine, right?" Keito goes on, feeling a bit cocky about it. "Was it me? Yuuto photographs me at such flattering angles."
She rolls over onto her stomach and smiles down at him, almost pitifully, then presses a brief kiss to his lips before speaking. "Actually, it was Yamada's shoot."
(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mousapelli!
"Big dick," a voice sounds from next to him in fluent English, and Keito nearly chokes on his coffee milk. The girl turns to look at him, eyes wide like he was an alien instead of just another commuter. "You understood that?"
"Um." Keito looks between her and her friend—who's hiding her face with the magazine they'd been looking at—and finally nods.
"Sorry," she says coolly, like she's not embarrassed at all, and that confuses Keito more than anything. Any other girl would have apologized her head off, hoping she hadn't offended him, but this girl just shrugs it off. "You know English? That's cool. English is fucking hard. Respect."
Keito stares at her in awe. He's been around Americans before, but they're usually around his age. These women were older, though not by too much, and you wouldn't know it judging by their clothes. At least the one who still refuses to look at Keito seems to be reserved, but her friend just grins and looks happy that she has someone to talk to other than her.
"Cheri, stop," the friend hisses. "That's…"
Her voice gets too low for Keito to hear over the whirring of the train, but he sees her gesture toward the magazine and the other girl gasps dramatically, "Oh, no shit? His hair looks much better now."
She's staring back at him, which is only fair because he had been staring first, but it continues for a few long seconds and Keito clears his throat to reduce the awkwardness. "Your name is Chérie?" he asks conversationally, pronouncing the French word clearly. "How pretty."
"Not exactly," Cheri answers, not bothering to hide her amusement as she emphasizes the pronunciation of her name more like 'cherry'. "It's spelled C-H-E-R-I. My mother thought she was clever."
Keito nods again. He's fascinated by her. Her personality seems as big as her hair, which is thick and curly probably due to the humidity. He doesn't want to stop talking to her, but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to be a bother. Her friend looks uncomfortable enough already.
"Can you keep talking?" Cheri asks suddenly, and Keito tilts his head questioningly. "Not to be creepy or anything, but you have a really nice accent, so whatever you want to talk about, I'll listen."
Her friend brings her palm to her forehead, but Keito just smiles. "Okay," he says, proceeding to tell her about his classes and interests and opinions on American politics. She challenges some of his views and they get into a heated debate right there on the train, distracting Keito enough to miss his stop, but he's no longer planning on going home anyway.
Naturally, he bangs her. She's only in the country visiting, he'll never see her again, and in his defense she instigated it. And while Keito's been with a lot of girls since he's been attending university, he's never had one as insatiable as Cheri. He makes a mental note to warn Yabu that older women can go forever.
His entire body hurts when they're done, but she just stretches out in the bed next to him and sighs as she looks around the room. "I've always wanted to see the inside of a love hotel," she comments.
It's not the worst thing he's heard after sex, which makes sense considering the first words he'd ever heard her speak. Remembering what she and her friend had been looking at to warrant that statement, Keito elbows her playfully. "So who were you talking about on the train?"
"Hmm?" she replies, pushing her tangled hair out of her face to squint at him. "What do you mean?"
"You were looking at an idol magazine, right?" Keito goes on, feeling a bit cocky about it. "Was it me? Yuuto photographs me at such flattering angles."
She rolls over onto her stomach and smiles down at him, almost pitifully, then presses a brief kiss to his lips before speaking. "Actually, it was Yamada's shoot."
(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
mousapelli!
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