#sour models are so cutes until you look at their fingers ???? they are so skinny.

[seiliecourt]

falls at your feet ... old web aes sour white mikus.... <- extremely predictable of me i know. mwah ty ily.

ily2!! added to the q oomf

[dawnstruck]

Aokise drabble #2

@limitlessmonster who wanted fake dating with mutual pining and minimal character death. Hope this fits the bill.

It's not a date.

That's the simple truth of the matter. It's not a date.

So, maybe, for once, they didn't meet up to play basketball. Maybe Aomine chose to dress a little more nicely, even if that only meant he stuffed himself into skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that is less ratty than most of the stuff he owns. Maybe he barely complained when Kise dragged  him to one of those silly cafés where the waitresses where frilly aprons and put too much whipped cream on everything.

But it's not a date, because Aomine is not in love, and Kise isn't either.

If Aomine's eyes linger a little too long on the way Kise's lips close around his tiny silver fork, if his hand itches to reach out across the table and run his fingers over Kise's knuckles... then that is strictly a coincidence and has nothing to do with the way Aomine sometimes cannot fall asleep at night and he thinks up scenarios that are much too similar to this one.

“You're paying,” he tells Kise when they get ready to leave because this is not a date and, unlike Kise, he has no fancy modeling career to pay his bills. Kise's huffs and puffs, but does as he is told, plucking at his fringe as they walk toward the door. He'd gotten a haircut and claimed that it was too short for his tastes, but Aomine like it on him, like how it makes him look more angular and masculine than the soft and boyish look he sported on most magazine covers. Not that he would tell him that, though.

The relaxed atmosphere, of course, cannot last. Aomine steps outside first, opting to wait on the sidewalk instead of holding the door open for Kise, which is made easier by the gaggle of highschool girls that pushes their way into the café, the plaid skirts of their uniforms folded up and their bags carelessly swinging from their shoulders.

Kise, because he is a gentleman at least when in public, stops to hold the door open for them, habitually sending them a flash of a smile – and the girls stop dead in their tracks.

“Oh my God,” one of them whispers in English, and then another is already squealing “Kise-kun!” and attracting the attention of some other passersby.

Kise's smile wavers for just a second but then wriggles his fingers at them in a small greeting.

“Hey they, girls,” he says sweetly. “You're having some desserts? I totally recommend the blueberry muffins.”

“Can I your autograph, Ryou-kun?” an tomboyish girl as without preamble, already digging through her backpack for something to write.

“Actually, that's a little...,” Kise stalls, sending a helpless look at Aomine. “Um, I'm out with my friend, you see.” “Just one autograph,” the girl says determinedly, but of course that is never enough.

“For me, too!” another one begs, pushing a small notebook and a pen at Kise who lifts his hands in a placating manner as they all clamor for his attention.

It's not the first time Aomine has witnessed something like this. It's not even the first time Kise has seemed less than happy with the attention thrown his way. But it's the first time their not-date got interrupted so rudely and Aomine is honestly somewhat annoyed.

He watches for another moment, but then Kise actually takes one of the pens that's being shoved at him, looking resigned to his fate, and this would take ages if left to continue.

Aomine can be an impulsive person, Satsuki could attest to that, but what he does next is still entirely unprecedented.

He pushes his way through the girls until he stands next to Kise and then he slings his arm around his waist in a casual manner.

“Sorry, girls,” he says easily. “I called dibs today.”

“Aominecchi,” Kise chides. His elbow subtly digs into Aomine's ribs, telling him to let go without making a scene. “I ought to treat my fans well.” “Right!” one of the girls agrees fervently. “Kise-kun belongs to all of us.”

The corners of Aomine's mouth pull down in a sour expression. He blinks slowly, wondering whether he should just give her a piece of his mind, but then he thinks better of it.

“Nope,” he says simply. “This idiot is already taken.” And then he turns his head and presses a kiss right on top of Kise's mouth.

It takes the girls a moment to understand what is happening but then they all gape collectively, staring up at them through mascara-framed eyes and from underneath ruler-straight bangs.

Kise's reaction, in comparison, is not much different. His mouth falls open a little, a warm breath against Aomine's lips. Before he can complain, however, Aomine is pulling and grabbing him by the wrist, dragging him out of the small mob and leaving the still flabbergasted girls behind.

Aomine hopes they won't be persistent enough to take up pursuit but he still quickens his pace, knowing that Kise can easily keep up with him, despite the way he keeps trying to tug himself free.

“Aominecchi,” he complains, punching in in the arm as soon as they have rounded the street corner. “Did you really have to do that? Everyone will know about this by tomorrow.” Aomine just snorts. “And who the hell will believe them without any proof?”

“You really have no idea how gossip columns work, do you?” Kise asks. “Would it really have killed you to just wait for ten minutes while I talked to them?”

Aomine stops, turns around. Kise is glaring at him a little half-heartedly.

“You think I did that because I was being impatient?” Aomine demands, stepping a little closer. “I just don't like seeing your surrounded by cute girls, okay?” Kise rolls his eyes and blows the fringe out of his face, shaking his head at Aomine's immaturity.

“Well, if you'd be a little nicer to me, I might just introduce you to some cute girls,” he says, as though that were what Aomine had been jealous about, and Aomine has to wonder whether Kise is really that dense.

He steps closer still, almost pressing Kise up against the wall at his back.

“I didn't mind you having the girls,” he says, his voice low enough that it goes husky with the words. “I minded the girls thinking they could have you.”

“O-oh,” Kise stutters out, his eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Aomine says, pushing away again with a roll of his shoulders. “So there.”

For a moment, Kise remains silent. Then-

“Aominecchi,” he says. “Was this a date?”

“In your dream, princess,” Aomine says and grins.

[missmaianovak]

Deep Under the Streets

Sam Winchester x Gabriel

Words: 2000 exactly. haha.

Warnings: language, alcohol, mention of low self-esteem, heavy flirting, sexual touching, dirty dancing/dry humping (haha), implied smut?

Author’s Note: This fic is inspired by the song “Shady” by Adam Lambert. It’s set in a general, every day AU. This is my very first Sabriel fic, so sorry if it’s kinda sucky. Practice makes perfect, right? There may be a part two, if enough people like this one. :)

Also on Ao3

The music boomed in Sam’s ears as he peered around the overflowing, cavern-like club, oddly named Archangel. Places like this always had some sort of trendy, nonsensical name. Hundreds of mid-twenty somethings flailed and swayed to the pumping beats, some bodies entangled, some solo. The waving sea was littered with glow sticks and necklaces, creating a swirling rainbow of light. They were deep under the city, invisible to most of the mindless souls above out for their late- night stroll. Hell, Sam had only found out about this place a few weeks back, and until now, was too chicken to check it out.

Sam wasn’t the most outgoing creature on the planet, almost the opposite of his “ladies man”, charismatic brother. Dean thrived in almost any social situation, flirting and chatting up practically anything that moved. But Sam, Sam was quiet. Sure, he could strike up a conversation with someone, if they initiated the contact. But Sam was more of a looker, someone who studied his person of interest before trying to reel them in. If you could even call it reeling.

But, deep down, Sam loved crowded settings like this. He loved flashing lights and being surrounded by thousands of nobodies. That way, there was barely any attention on him, allowing him to move about and talk as he pleased.

Sam scoped out the enormous room. In the very center was the massive dance floor. There were at least five hundred people floating around to the beat of the music. On the back wall stood the DJ, surrounded by several large speakers. To the younger Winchester’s left was a sizable bar, with at least a half a dozen bartenders rushing back and forth, all dressed in something loud and whimsical. He half expected them to be wearing angel wings, given the same of the place. Also, just beside the bar, there was an overcrowded seating area, complete with thirty or so red velvet cushioned chairs seated around small black tables.

Sam bit his lip as his heart raced. Chill out, Sammy. No one knows you here. His hazel eyes scanned the crowd, taking in everyone’s various state of dress. Sam felt comfortable in his black tank top, army green skinny jeans, and black Van’s. He let his hair do its own thing today. His whiskey brown locks fell just below his ears, a few rogue strands tickling his face. He lifted his hand to brush them out of his eyes when something grabbed his wrist, spinning him around.

His gaze met a smaller man, clad in a tight grey t-shirt and dark wash jeans that formed around him perfectly. The man smiled as he sucked on a green lollipop. “Heya, handsome. I haven’t seen you down here before.” He scanned up and down Sam’s form as he smirked. “Trust me, I would have noticed something as delicious as you in my home.”

Sam tilted his head, blushing lightly. “Home?”

The smaller gentleman let go of Sam’s wrist and nodded. “I own this joint, sweetness.” He extended a hand. “Gabriel, but call me Gabe.”

Sam shook the man’s hand and smiled. “Sam.” He could feel his cheeks heating up as he stared into Gabe’s stunning amber eyes. Sam’s tongue flicked over his lips as he tried to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest. He had to admit, the man was gorgeous. And not in the supermodel way. No, he was cute, charismatic, charming.

“So, Sammy boy, what brings you down to my little shindig? Looking for someone?” Gabe’s eyes saddened slightly at the thought of Sam meeting someone, and Sam noticed immediately.

“Nope, just exploring. My brother ditched me about an hour ago at a bar down the street. He found a waitress at the end of her shift.” Sam chuckled. It was odd. Something about Gabriel put him immediately at ease. Talking to the man felt like it was something he was made to do.

Gabriel huffed a laugh, taking a step closer to Sam. “Well, that’s rude. Lucky for me, though. Ha. I’m guessing he was your ride?”

Sam nodded. “It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. I’ll just call a cab. But, it’s early. I might as well have some fun.” Sam lowered his voice in an attempt to sound flirtatious. By the way Gabe’s eyes lit up, it seemed to work.

“Well, Sam, how about I buy you a drink?” Gabe winked up at Sam, making his heart jump.

Sam chuckled as he nodded. “Sure. But are you really buying me a drink if you own the place?”

The statement made Gabe laugh as he walked closely to Sam, his arm brushing against the taller man’s ever few steps. “I guess not. But, you’re going to take it anyway, huh?” Gabe winked. Damn, he needed to stop doing that. Sam let out a sigh. Or not.

When the duo reached the bar, Gabe walked up to the bartender and mumbled something inaudible. The bartender nodded. The bartender was an interesting creature, dressed in a fully sequined outfit, each article a completely different color. But, he totally rocked it, which made Sam smile. If only he could be that confident.

After a minute, the sequined bartender slid two matching drinks to Gabe, which Gabe gladly snatched before headed back to Sam.

“It’s a bit on the sweet and sour side, I hope that’s okay. It’s my favorite. It’s some supped up tequila and sprite concoction. We call it ‘The Devil’s Temptation’.” Gabe smiled widely as he took a sip, his eyes fixed on Sam’s.

Sam smiled as he accepted the drink. “I’m not picky.” And that was true. Sam would drink almost anything if the buzz was good.

Without a word, Gabe grabbed Sam’s wrist against and led him over to the seating area, like a toddler leading their parent to the toy aisle. The two of them reached a small, half-moon shaped booth that was behind a rope. It must have been Gabe’s reserved spot. Sam chuckled to himself as he watched Gabe barely make it over the thick, red rope. Sam followed, stepping over the low obstacle with ease.

Gabe slid over the soft, warm material, then reached out for Sam to join him. “C’mon, handsome. I won’t bite unless you ask nicely.” And there he went with that wink again, making Sam’s whole body tingle.

Sam slid in beside Gabe as the man pulled him close. Gabe leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder as he sipped his drink. Sam took a sip from the neon green straw, needing a little bit of liquid courage if he wasn’t going to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of the gorgeous man beside him.

Gabe lifted his head to meet Sam’s gaze. “So, Sam, what do you do with your life? Modeling? Exotic dancing?” Gabe’s words were half sarcastic, making Sam huff out a laugh as he turned his body towards Gabriel.

“Ha, no. I’m finishing law school, actually. I went to Stanford for my undergrad, and now I’m finishing up my last semester of law school online, so I can travel with my brother before I need to sit in one spot for fifty years.” Sam grinned as he sipped his drink.

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Huh, smart and sexy. Shit, I may have just hit the jackpot tonight.” He bit his lip as he scanned over Sam again. “You live around San Francisco?” There was a hint of hope in Gabe’s eyes as he waited for Sam’s answer.

“Yeah, kinda. Redwood City. My brother and I rent an apartment there. He works as a PI in South City and I can commute to school when I need to be on campus.” Sam couldn’t help but smile as he watched Gabe’s eye light up.

They talked for a while, chatting about the club and Gabe’s idea behind it all. Sam touched on his life and job as a paralegal. Every word was laced with flirtation as Gabe shifted closer and closer to Sam, eyeing the bartender to bring refills when their drinks got low. It felt like hours as they sat there, talking as if was what they were made to do.

Gabe jumped up, standing on the booth as a new song blasted through the club. “Oooh I love this song, Sammy! C’mon” Gabe leapt off the seat, reaching for the taller man’s hand as Sam slid towards the edge. Sam blushed as he took Gabriel’s hand, slowly following him to the dance floor.

The beat was fast and loud, the heavy bass pounding though the wooden floor and up into Sam’s body. He watched as his new interest began to sway, facing away from him. His well fitted pants were flattering in parts Sam was unable to appreciate until now, tightening as Gabe swayed his hips to the beat. Gabe’s hand brushed through his honey brown hair, his other hand swaying in the air. His movements made Sam’s fingers tingle as his mind begged his body to touch the decadent club owner.

Sam took a deep breath as he approached Gabriel, his own body moving to the music. His hands landed lightly on Gabe’s hips before he gently pulled the man towards him. Gabe didn’t protest for a second, leaning into Sam’s chest as be continued to sway. Sam’s half-hard cock brushed against Gabe’s ass as they closed the gap between them. Gabe groaned at the contact, leaning his head back just below Sam’s shoulder. Sam had no idea where his confidence was coming from, but he wasn’t complaining. He leaned down, grazing his lips against Gabriel’s exposed neck before nipping at the sensitive flesh.

“Sam,” Gabriel breathed as he closed his eyes. The simple sound of his name rolling off the man’s lips made his cock twitch. Sam pulled Gabriel against his body roughly, biting harder on soft spot in the curve of his neck.

“Oh, you like that?” Sam growled into Gabe’s ear. Gabe just nodded as he breathed heavily, staring up at the ceiling. “I want my lips on more than just your neck.” Sam surprised himself with his boldness, but it was the truth. Everything about Gabriel made his body hum with need.

Gabe turned his head, his lips just inches from Sam’s as he stared into the taller man’s hazel eyes. Then, their lips collided in a heated, passionate kiss. Gabe’s tongue forced its way into Sam’s mouth fighting for dominance with his own tongue as their bodies danced in unison. Sam’s fingers toyed with the hem of Gabe’s shirt, occasionally gliding over the skin just above the waistline of his pants. His skin was smooth, flawless under Sam’s touch, making Sam’s cock throb. Sam gasped against Gabe’s lips as the club owner smoothed his hand over Sam’s, leading it further down below the fabric of his jeans. Gabe undid the button and zipper of his pants, giving Sam’s massive hand more room as it smoothed over Gabe rock hard erection. Damn, he’s big.

Sam groaned hungrily into Gabe’s mouth as his fingers stroked the massive cock hidden under those sinful jeans. Sam had never been so forward with someone publicly, but something about it fueled him to go farther. He would have feared getting thrown out, if it wasn’t the owner’s cock he was stroking.

Gabe released Sam’s mouth, leaning his head back onto Sam’s shoulder. He let out a full moan as he gripped Sam’s wrist, guiding the younger Winchester’s hand, moving it faster. He pressed himself against Sam’s cock, grinding against him as Sam steered their rhythm.

Enough was enough. Sam needed to feel how Gabe felt around him, how he tasted, how he twitched and writhed under his touch. “Can we get out of here?”

Gabe smirked as he opened his eyes. Lifting Sam’s hand out of his pants, he turned around to face the handsome man. “Oh, sweetness, I thought you would never ask.”