Paper Trail

Title: Paper Trail
Author: Tsutsuji
Fandom: Pandora Hearts
Pairing: Break/Reim
Rating: NC17 - M - adult
Warning: messy fun sex ;D
Word count: around 1660
Summary: Break decides to indulge Reim's fetish for paperwork, and things get... messy. Takes place sometime way before Retrace 43. (Reim = Liam; decided to go with the official version for this.)


~~

Reim headed into the library at Pandora headquarters that morning in a good mood for once. There were no emergencies pending so far that day (although, granted, it was early yet), and hardly anyone else was up and around yet, even, so he was ready for a few good, quiet, productive hours of reading, research, and organizing reports to add to the stacks of documents in the library.

He stopped cold when he saw a couple of sheets of paper on the floor, halfway across the room to his usual desk. He frowned at this sloppiness, but he tried not to let it ruin his good mood; it should be simple enough to find out where they belong and put them away. But when he stooped to pick them up he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a couple more loose pages over near the stacks. He went to pick those up as well, and saw some more just around the corner of that row of shelves.

Then he saw more beyond those, and another stray sheet further down that aisle, and each time he stopped to pick up a page he found another, just around another corner. Just as he started to get an inkling that it was as if someone had left a trail of papers leading deeper into the stacks, he came around the corner at the far end of one of the far rows, and saw a great pile of papers on the floor in the middle of the aisle.

Reim stopped and stared, disbelief unraveling into horror, slipping toward rage at the sight: white and cream colored pages, a few scrolls and the yellowed old contents of several unbound portfolios, all in a big heap on the floor. He recognized handwritten reports, old letters, inventories, a map or two, and - he looked closer - an eye. One red eye that peered up at him from under the pile, and he realized, with a flush of he-wasn't-sure-what, that some of that creamy whiteness was not paper at all, but pale hair and bare skin.

At which realization Reim's good mood did not so much evaporate as implode.

"Xerxes Break!" he yelped.

He saw the grin appear among the sheets, the inevitable reaction to his own inevitable reaction.

Break moved under the pile. His hands appeared, and bare arms, and a naked thigh as some papers slid off to the floor. Reim thought: oh no, he wouldn't! But of course Break would, and did, and undoubtedly was entirely naked under all that pile of invaluable, precious Pandora records....

"What are you doing!" Reim snapped, cringing even as he said it because he was sure he didn't really want to hear Break's answer.

"Oh, Reim, I'm just indulging your fetish for books and paperwork!" Reim said happily. He wiggled - suggestively - under the pile.

"F-f-fetish!" Reim sputtered, helplessly, as more of Break's skin appeared, paper-pale, as fine as unwritten parchment.... as Reim already knew it was, rather well, although he swore he never thought of Break's skin exactly that way before.

Break picked up one of the sheets lying on his stomach (exposing a little more skin) and squinted at it. Reim couldn't help noticing that there was either a much thicker pile across his hips, or something was lifting the documents up higher in that area.

He felt his face and ears turn red, hot enough to steam up his glasses, torn between fury and arousal at the thought of all those precious sheets of paper sliding between Break's thighs, pressed up against his flesh....

"Hmm, what's this," Break mused, glancing over the sheet he picked up, casually. His left hand reached across to press more papers to his chest, absently, crushing them slightly as he - Reim felt something catch in his throat - rubbed his palm over what Reim knew was probably (oh, no, definitely!) his sensitive right nipple.

"Not very interesting reading, really," Break muttered. He glanced up at Reim, his eye gleaming as he watched him standing there, stiff in shock and a whole confusion of reactions. Then he tossed that sheet aside, and started to grab a fistful of the rest off his body as if to toss them aside as well.

Hearing the crackle of all those hopelessly disorganized sheets of precious records about to be crumpled and flung aside, Reim pounced. He made a grab for Break's hand - and the next thing he knew he was rolling in the pile of papers too, gasping breathless, suddenly easy prey to Break's hands and his mouth tugging at him and pulling at his clothes. All the while, he still frantically tried to rescue a few uncrumpled sheets as if they were his last shreds of sanity.

It was no use. He groaned when Break finally settled half on top of him, somehow already having pushed his jacket and shirt off in that magician-quick way he had of undressing him (a trick that Reim had grudgingly come to appreciate on other, more appropriate occasions). He gasped as he felt the smooth, cool glide of paper pressed between their bodies, and Break's hot puff of laughter on his throat.

Even while he winced at the rustling sound of documents crumpling up under him and between them, he held on to Break's shoulders and pressed up against him when Break slipped one hand into his trousers. The feel of that familiar, clever, insistent hand on his cock was hardly any more arousing than the feel of Break's own solid erection pressing through vellum against his thigh.

"Dammit, Xerxes," he managed to mutter, making one last suitably disgruntled protest before Break's stroking hand started to shatter his ability to think coherently. But that only gave Break a chance to slip his tongue between Reim's lips, and the hum of his laughter vibrated right down Reim's spine.

Really, he never thought of the taste of Break as being something like paper, like old books holding unguessed secrets, or of his lips as being dry and firm like parchment, or of his skin being as smooth and cool as the finest writing stock...

Reim tried to remember to worry about what could be printed on all these pages and where they all belonged, and tried to protest about the impropriety, the mess, and (not least of all) the terrible possibility of being found like this. Break forestalled his attempts to regain sense with a few firm strokes of his hand, and with the insistent nudge of his own erection against Reim's thigh.

With his usual skill, Break managed to get them arranged as he wanted them before Reim even realized what he was doing. In this case, that arrangement was with Reim's shoulder pressed back against the leather-covered spines of books on the lowest row of the stack, and Break half on top of him, half crouching over him, stroking him with one hand and three fingers of the other thrust into his mouth (tasting of peppermint and chocolate and vaguely of ink), and his tongue in Reim's ear.

"Ah-ha; you see, Reim, I knew you'd like doing it in the library!" Break whispered.

The vibration of his voice (and the embarrassing truth of the words) spiraled down Reim's spine to his toes, melting everything along the way. Break humped against him, the soft grunts in Reim's ear betraying his urgency, and his hand stroked faster, and sheets of paper rustled, sliding around between them and under them.

Reim knew that, any minute now, Break would push him down, or more likely pull him down on top of him, guiding him in to bring him to climax inside of him, just as he usually did. But Break seemed too impatient for that this time, his hand and mouth and breath so insistent that Reim was startled by his own suddenly impending orgasm. From the familiar, high-pitched sound like a gasp of hysterical laughter in his ear, he knew Break was on the verge as well.

He finally realized why they were not having intercourse this time. With eyes clenched shut and shuddering, he heard the soft splat of semen hitting paper. He groaned - not so much in the ecstasy of orgasm but in horror - but there was certainly nothing he could to do stop it now.

"Xerxes... you ... on purpose..." he panted, but considering the state he was in, it sounded more like a moan of passion than the indignant accusation he meant it to be.

As soon as it was over, he tried to scramble free of the mess, but Break was all arms and legs around him, giggling softly to himself with his face pressed against Reim's shoulder. So he gave up for the moment and slumped back against the book stacks, and sighed irritably. He could only hope that nothing too valuable just got drenched.

"Really, Xerxes," he said, as sternly as he could. He felt a little betrayed by his body for being so content; it took all the force out of his scolding. "Even if you wanted to have sex in the library, was this much mess really necessary? You are going to clean this up and put everything back where it belongs, of course!"

"Oh, there's gratitude!" Break pouted, deftly avoiding any promise of cleaning up. "After I went to all this trouble to arrange everything to make it especially good for you, Reim! Well, that's fine. Next time, we'll just go to my favorite place to have sex instead."

Reim did not dare ask or even try to imagine where Break's favorite place might be (or what cupboard they might have to crawl through to get there). Maybe, he thought, sex in the library was not such a terrible idea, after all.

~~ the end ~~