[xxxholic drabbles] Senbei, Rain
I promised more drabbles starting today, and here they are. These have been betaed by the always amazing beboots and Product Of A Sick Society
Drabble: Senbei
Rating: G (K)
Pairing: none, or very light Doumeki/Watanuki (interpret as you wish)
Words: 300
Notes: Slight spoilers for chapters 175/176. Written for themusicliveson
“Here.”
Watanuki glares at the lumpy package that was thrust an inch from his nose.
“What is it?”
Doumeki makes a sound that Watanuki interprets as “I can’t believe you can’t tell just by looking at it.” Watanuki would strangle him for being such a presumptuous git, but he’s too busy glaring at the untidy mess of paper and string.
“You ate Kunogi’s cookies,” is all Doumeki offers as explanation.
“You ate them, too,” grumbles Watanuki, cautiously poking the package with a finger, as if half-expecting it to blow up in his face.
“I can cook, too.”
Watanuki freezes when he is about to poke it again. He slowly drags his eyes from the brown thing in Doumeki’s hand to Doumeki’s face, which looks slightly scrunched up in annoyance.
“You made cookies?!”
“No.” Doumeki seems slightly offended by the notion. “They’re senbei.”
Oh. Of course. Doumeki isn’t all that fond of sweet stuff... but that’s not what’s wrong with the picture!
Doumeki is looking at him expectantly, so Watanuki heaves a great sigh and attacks the poorly-wrapped package.
He gets it open -grumbling about poor food-packaging skills- and pops one of the misshapen rice crackers into his mouth.
It’s not dry enough, it has entirely too much salt, and is quite possibly the worst senbei Watanuki has ever encountered. It’s also unmistakeably hand-made, and Watanuki knows just how much work goes into making the deceptively simple-looking snacks.
“They’re awful.”
Those words seem to get Doumeki on the defensive, but Watanuki snatches the open package before Doumeki can get it out of reach.
He turns to resume walking home and pops another one in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“...thank you.”
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, and Watanuki doesn’t turn to confirm it, but he’s pretty sure that the insufferable jerk is smirking.
Senbei: Japanese rice crackers, which can be sweet, salty, spicy and come in practically any flavour. They’re made by being baked or grilled, traditionally over charcoal. They’re the ones Doumeki was eating in both OADs, and yes, they make that much noise while being eaten, if they’re dry enough. XD
Drabble: Rain
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Words: 300
Notes: written for XxxblackpearlxxX. Kinda spoilers for chapter 159.
Watanuki doesn’t like rain.
He thinks, maybe, just maybe, that once, he liked rain. Once, long ago, he must have liked to snuggle against the comfort and warmth that was a parent, and listen to the rain, but now, all he can think about when it rains is the cold, and the grey, and the loneliness.
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, and he never asks, but when it rains, he skips archery practice and walks Watanuki home.
Watanuki doesn’t say anything, and he never asks, but he accepts the silent comfort and doesn’t complain about having to share an umbrella.
Sometimes, though, it’s not enough. Sometimes, the rain makes something inside him clench in pain, and he can’t think, and he can’t breathe, because it hurts too much.
Those times, Doumeki doesn’t say anything, either. He just grabs Watanuki by the elbow and finds a secluded spot, far from prying eyes, and kisses the rain out of Watanuki’s eyes and out of Watanuki’s heart.
Sometimes, though, sometimes it’s not enough, and Watanuki craves more, needs more, and it’s desperate, and raw, but Doumeki doesn’t ask, doesn’t complain, he just complies.
Then it’s heat, and laboured breath, and racing hearts drowning out the sound of rain.
Then it’s release, and relief, and a silent company, freely given, that doesn’t pretend to understand, but it’s there nonetheless.
Then it’s quiet, and calm, and a cup of hot ginger tea offered without words, without questions, without explanations, but somehow it’s enough.
Sometimes, sometimes he can let go long enough to cross the distance between them first, and reach out for Doumeki without needing anything else to justify the closeness.
And when Watanuki is surrounded by the comforting warmth that is Doumeki, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can learn to like rain again.
This is the second time I try to post this. Is it just me, or has LiveJournal been kind of crazy these past few weeks? And everything takes forever to load... -_-
Drabble: Senbei
Rating: G (K)
Pairing: none, or very light Doumeki/Watanuki (interpret as you wish)
Words: 300
Notes: Slight spoilers for chapters 175/176. Written for themusicliveson
“Here.”
Watanuki glares at the lumpy package that was thrust an inch from his nose.
“What is it?”
Doumeki makes a sound that Watanuki interprets as “I can’t believe you can’t tell just by looking at it.” Watanuki would strangle him for being such a presumptuous git, but he’s too busy glaring at the untidy mess of paper and string.
“You ate Kunogi’s cookies,” is all Doumeki offers as explanation.
“You ate them, too,” grumbles Watanuki, cautiously poking the package with a finger, as if half-expecting it to blow up in his face.
“I can cook, too.”
Watanuki freezes when he is about to poke it again. He slowly drags his eyes from the brown thing in Doumeki’s hand to Doumeki’s face, which looks slightly scrunched up in annoyance.
“You made cookies?!”
“No.” Doumeki seems slightly offended by the notion. “They’re senbei.”
Oh. Of course. Doumeki isn’t all that fond of sweet stuff... but that’s not what’s wrong with the picture!
Doumeki is looking at him expectantly, so Watanuki heaves a great sigh and attacks the poorly-wrapped package.
He gets it open -grumbling about poor food-packaging skills- and pops one of the misshapen rice crackers into his mouth.
It’s not dry enough, it has entirely too much salt, and is quite possibly the worst senbei Watanuki has ever encountered. It’s also unmistakeably hand-made, and Watanuki knows just how much work goes into making the deceptively simple-looking snacks.
“They’re awful.”
Those words seem to get Doumeki on the defensive, but Watanuki snatches the open package before Doumeki can get it out of reach.
He turns to resume walking home and pops another one in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“...thank you.”
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, and Watanuki doesn’t turn to confirm it, but he’s pretty sure that the insufferable jerk is smirking.
Senbei: Japanese rice crackers, which can be sweet, salty, spicy and come in practically any flavour. They’re made by being baked or grilled, traditionally over charcoal. They’re the ones Doumeki was eating in both OADs, and yes, they make that much noise while being eaten, if they’re dry enough. XD
Drabble: Rain
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Words: 300
Notes: written for XxxblackpearlxxX. Kinda spoilers for chapter 159.
Watanuki doesn’t like rain.
He thinks, maybe, just maybe, that once, he liked rain. Once, long ago, he must have liked to snuggle against the comfort and warmth that was a parent, and listen to the rain, but now, all he can think about when it rains is the cold, and the grey, and the loneliness.
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, and he never asks, but when it rains, he skips archery practice and walks Watanuki home.
Watanuki doesn’t say anything, and he never asks, but he accepts the silent comfort and doesn’t complain about having to share an umbrella.
Sometimes, though, it’s not enough. Sometimes, the rain makes something inside him clench in pain, and he can’t think, and he can’t breathe, because it hurts too much.
Those times, Doumeki doesn’t say anything, either. He just grabs Watanuki by the elbow and finds a secluded spot, far from prying eyes, and kisses the rain out of Watanuki’s eyes and out of Watanuki’s heart.
Sometimes, though, sometimes it’s not enough, and Watanuki craves more, needs more, and it’s desperate, and raw, but Doumeki doesn’t ask, doesn’t complain, he just complies.
Then it’s heat, and laboured breath, and racing hearts drowning out the sound of rain.
Then it’s release, and relief, and a silent company, freely given, that doesn’t pretend to understand, but it’s there nonetheless.
Then it’s quiet, and calm, and a cup of hot ginger tea offered without words, without questions, without explanations, but somehow it’s enough.
Sometimes, sometimes he can let go long enough to cross the distance between them first, and reach out for Doumeki without needing anything else to justify the closeness.
And when Watanuki is surrounded by the comforting warmth that is Doumeki, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can learn to like rain again.
This is the second time I try to post this. Is it just me, or has LiveJournal been kind of crazy these past few weeks? And everything takes forever to load... -_-