Hey! I'm back! I thought I would try my hand at some Eyeshield 21 fanfiction for a change from my usual stuff, seeing as i adore HirumaxMamori that seemed like a good place to start!
I apologise for the shortness of the fic, i'm in bed ill and had this little plot bunny running around so i had to write it out! It is also un beta-ed, so please bear with me! (If anyone is free to beta my new Naruto fanfic, please please PM me! I havnt posted it yet, theres alot of bugs i need to work out, so if you can help please do!)
Anyway, please enjoy the fic, despite it's shortness! And enjoy the evilness of Hiruma!
*Insert shameless plug for reviews here*
~DDG
Quiet.
Calm.
It was just the type of evening Mamori liked. School had finished quite a while ago and she was now making her way over to the Deimon DevilBats' locker room, Hiruma had gone home (wherever that may be) a long time ago; she had seen him go; it was the perfect timing for what she had planned, he would never suspect.
Pushing open the door to the locker room an eerie silence hit her, it hung in the air and all around her; suffocating. It was too quiet.
Shaking away her doubts she calmed herself and smiled. The only thing that contradicted her calm facade was the slight shake of her hands as she gripped the smooth door handle and closed the door with a quiet clicking sound that made her wince.
'Come on Mamori!' She thought to herself, 'He's not even here, stop worrying!'
She slowly walked over to Hiruma's locker; she knew immediately that it was his due to the insanely massive padlocks, six in fact, which ran up its side. She laughed silently to herself, she knew the codes to all six, and they wouldn't prove a problem.
Making short work of them, she flung the door open wide and looked upon the prize that she had spent the last few weeks planning to get.
Hiruma's threat book.
Finding out a couple of weeks ago that he left it in his locker every Thursday, (though she could only guess as to why), she immediately began to formulate a plan to get it. It had taken her a while to discover all of the access codes for the padlocks and find out what time Hiruma left, but it was worth it.
He had incriminating evidence about her in there!
Every time she caught him throwing that wry grin at her back or looking at her in that curious way that he did, she knew - just knew - that he was writing more things in that damn book about her. Or at least thinking about it!
Every time she thought she knew him, that she understood him better than anyone else, he did something like that. Probably just to annoy her, he was fond of doing that.
She reached out to grab the book, though if she had paid more attention to the rest of the contents of the locker she would have been intrigued indeed.
Her heart sank a moment later though because, before she could even touch her prize, she felt the biting cold of steel against her cheek and heard that familiar, smooth voice cut through the silence like a knife.
"Oi, fucking manager"
She quickly swivelled her eyes around, turning her head a little more slowly, to look upon a grinning Hiruma and the barrel of a large pistol pressed up against her face.
"Why is your hand in my locker?"
Oh crap.
Faced with possibly the scariest situation of her life, Mamori did the only thing that she could think of. The best spur of the moment plan she could come up with.
She grabbed the book and ran.
At least, that would have been the plan if the grinning quarterback hadn't grabbed her by the waist before she could get even a few feet, plucking his precious book from her grasp before she even realised what was happening.
The next thing she knew was the pressure of a hand pulling her back tight against his chest and friction of fabric against fabric as Hiruma bent down to whisper in her ear, the heat of his breath tickling her neck, so close she could feel the vibration of his words. So close that it sent a tingle down her spine, one that she wasn't entirely sure what it meant.
"Oh, I see your game. Very sly fucking manager!" he chuckled in a voice that perpetually sounded like it was bordering on mania, "So you like games huh?"
A frown marred her perfect features at that little comment. Just what the hell did he mean by that? Before she could even open her mouth to ask him, something happened that made her freeze with surprise.
Lips.
On her cheek.
Hiruma was kissing her!
Sheathing his firearm god knows where, Hiruma brought up his now spare hand and traced a finger up Mamori's jaw line, before softly stroking her neck and collarbone. Melting into his lingering touch, Mamori's eyes fluttered closed and offered no resistance as the firm arm around her waist turned her to face him. She was hardly registering what was happening until his lips lightly brushed hers, surprisingly soft, surprisingly gentle, when she realised what was actually happening. And, she also realised, she was enjoying it.
She knew she shouldn't be, but being in his arms felt so right, so warm. She tilted her head upward and his lips ghosted across hers once more, his hot breath mingling with her own, tempting her to make the first move. Just as she was about to lean forward, to crash their lips together in a kiss that she was aching for, the warmth of his breath receded and the pressure of his touch disappeared.
Mamori's eyes flickered open as fast as she could manage and whipped her head around to find that Hiruma was already at the door waving that damn book and grinning like a madman.
"I can play games too Mamori." He cackled as he began walking away and writing in his book with undisguised glee.
The only thing Mamori could think to say was, "Oh crap."
