Tsubasa fic, 'A Slight Distraction', mild Kurogane/Tomoyo. G.

[ciircee]

So I'm anxiously awaiting the newest issue of Bang*Bang which is due out today at bb_shousetsu/s2b2. And in the mean time I came up with some really retarded Tomoyo and Kurogane stuff. I blame Meg for talking about head sex. Which I totally suck at and you should all be glad that I inflicted my other attempts solely on Meg.

A Slight Distraction

Bringing Kurogane, Tomoyo thought privately, had been a fairly large tactical error. She flicked a glance from under her lashes at her newest bodyguard and refolded her hands with a whisper of silk. She tried to focus on the visiting dignitary from Eikoku; a rather coolly handsome young man with silver-flax hair that hung longer than her own. She suspected that Eikoku was hoping to make him a bride-groom to Nihon in general and herself in particular. He was lovely to look at.

At her side, Kurogane shifted.

Tomoyo slid another look at him, looked back at her guest, and then back at her guard, studying him from the corner of her eye. She hadn't seen Kurogane since she'd presented him with Ginryuu and sent him to train with the guard. He'd grown. Even with him bowed beside her she felt dwarfed by him. It wasn't that he was so very tall, she reflected, though he was certainly a good deal taller than she was herself. It was that he was so…broad. Since he was just slightly before her as well as to her side, Tomoyo let her eyes skip over the breadth of his shoulders. He couldn't have been much older than sixteen, she thought counting in her head, but he wasn't built like the court youths. He was wide across the shoulders, with a broad, strong chest to suit. And all those muscles tapered into a lean waist and from there—guiltily Tomoyo jerked her eyes back to her important, dignified guest. The one who was more boy-like than the boy next to her.

She tried to pay attention. Though the court scribes were in attendance, the trade agreements were important. Seeing the tradesmen safely through the kekkai was an important duty no matter how routine it might become. She resettled herself mentally and focused on the slip of a man who was probably going to try courting her after dinner.

Kurogane shifted again.

Without meaning to, Tomoyo switched her gaze back to him. He hadn't really changed position, she noted. One large hand was still planted firmly on the marble floor, his other arm laid across his knee with his hand at Ginryuu's hilt and, though poised to move, his legs had not left their ready crouch. But something had drawn her eyes. Blinking slowly, Tomoyo let herself consider.

Aside from the thick, black leather bracers at his wrists, Kurogane's arms were bare. Despite the fact that he wasn't tense (alert, yes, tense, no) she could easily trace the corded outlines of his muscles. The swell and curve of bicep, made strong from wielding her sword, the long lines in his forearm under the nearly invisible dusting of hair. His hands were probably unremarkable for a swordsman, with long fingers, square and strong, scuffed and nicked and scarred from any manner of training exercises. They were almost overly large, though. He was still growing into them, she realized, unclasping her hands and refolding them, left over right instead of right over left. He was going to be even taller than he currently was, which meant that his shoulders and arms and back were going to grow right along with his legs.

His legs were covered with plain, black trousers that were not form-fittingly tight. Still, they lay close enough. And quite probably, Tomoyo suspected, his legs were as well muscled as his arms. He filled out his pants nicely, at any rate. Long legs, she thought as she swept her eyes up along them. Long, but not thin, not gangly. Compact, she decided. Strong, compact, tightly muscled legs that led up to—

Kurogane twitched.

And that, Tomoyo realized had been what had drawn her attention to begin with; the muscles in Kurogane's extended arm were flexing. Then the muscles at the nip of his waist flexed under his shirt, making it move, then the large muscles in his thighs. He was stretching, such as it was. He and Souma had been crouched in the awkward, formal bow since she'd sat down and, most likely, he was beginning to tire. Knowing this did nothing to stop the image of Kurogane lunging forward and stabbing her would-be suitor in the throat for being a complete bore.

She stifled her sudden fit of giggles by the simple expedient of biting her lip.

"Is there a problem with the price, Tsukuyomi?" asked Eikoku's official.

And of course, she hadn't been paying attention. Drat. She lifted one hand in a gentle motion, like a wave or a breeze playing a leaf. "Unimportant at this early stage," she said gracefully.

Eikoku's ill-gotten idea for a husband frowned down his perfectly sculpted nose. "I would be more than happy to discuss the offending item now, honorable Tsukuyomi," he said solemnly.

Tomoyo settled her hands comfortably in her lap. Eikoku's insistence on doing things promptly had never really bothered her before. "It can wait until the proper time," she demurred.

"If her Majesty is sure…" said her mistake of a beau, looking between his papers and her.

Kurogane twitched noticeably, his fingers now touching the crest of the dragon's brow where it rested against his hip. "Pushy bastard," he said under his breath, a near-silent whisper.

Because she agreed, Tomoyo tilted her head just enough so that one of the ornaments in her hair chimed softly. Kurogane twisted at the sound and gave her a cheerfully feral smile, his autumn-leaf eyes sparking with something that made her stomach twist pleasantly. "You want I should kill him?" he asked, still nigh unto silent.

She hid her smile by ducking her head in what could be seen as a show of polite deference. "Perhaps we shall resume tomorrow," she said calmly pushing back. Without waiting for his response, she rose from her seat. Kurogane and Souma stood a beat later and her last view of her clueless couter was his startled frown which was quickly blocked by the black-clad expanse of Kurogane's sturdy back. Souma opened the ornate doors and she glided out with her bodyguards a pace behind her.

Once the door shut, Kurogane quickly moved in front of her. "Thank god," he muttered. "How can you listen to that?"

She couldn't, Tomoyo thought, blushing faintly as her eyes dropped and quickly bounced back up. "It's necessary," she covered. "Perhaps Kurogane will be kind enough to have the scribes sent along to my chambers?"

"It wasn't enough listening to that guy?"

"And then," Souma requested, "perhaps he might be sent to the training yards to work on his concept of still?"

Tomoyo nodded, her chimes ringing merrily. "Certainly."

"What?" Kurogane roared, turning on them. Wounded pride made his features darker and stronger. Tomoyo was glad when Souma slapped the back of his head, pushing him onward.

"Your fidgeting is distracting, Kurogane. I can only imagine it's going to be worse if you're there for the readings. Go get the scribes now and let us alone."

As Kurogane stalked off grumbling, Souma bowed to her. "Perhaps your Majesty might consider leaving Kurogane outside the room next time?" she enquired.

"Was he really that ill behaved?" she asked, surprised.

Souma bowed lower. "He was that distracting," she said. After a moment, Souma lifted her head and gave her a meaningful look.

Tomoyo felt her cheeks heat unmercifully. "Everybody has got to learn sometime," she said, most determinedly not meeting Souma's amused look as they continued to her rooms.