One-shot - Four Seasons
Title: Four Seasons
Pairing: Koyama/Shigeaki
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1,500
Prompt: #029 - Season
A/N: Happy (OVER A MONTH LATE OMG) birthday, unfenced-fire! This isn't particularly long or plotty. I wanted to write a piece where the atmosphere and description were the main focus and this just came out. I hope you like it. :) (And as usual, thanks to sanjihan for the beta. :D)
Summary: Koyama and Shige, from spring through to winter.
Spring blooms, slow and easy, bringing hints of warmth and clouds of pollen. Flowers begin to unfurl on trees, and the year loses the feeling of a new beginning. Koyama finally stops writing ‘09 instead of ‘10 whenever he puts down the date and starts complaining of hay fever, an itchy nose and running eyes.
Shige tells him that in the time it takes to whine about his problem, he could’ve already done something to fix it. Koyama shoves him and calls him a hypocrite, and they squabble like baby birds, all the while trying to hide their grins.
“We should go flower viewing.” Koyama tells him one day, with eyes that are as bright as ever, even though he’s sniffling behind a flu mask. He isn’t sick, but it helps control his allergies and so he wears it anyway.
Shige nods, heart fluttering like a petal caught in the breeze. He feels silly for indulging in a fantasy of them arm-in-arm beneath stretching branches heavy with pale blossoms, but a little happy too.
Koyama is pleased that he’s agreed and adds, “We should take Tegoshi as well. 22 years old and he’s never gone flower viewing before. I still can’t believe that.”
“That’s because he’s a disgrace to all Japanese.” Shige says, and Koyama laughs because he knows it was meant as a joke.
Secretly, Shige just wanted to say it because he’s disappointed that it won’t just be Koyama and him.
Tegoshi, however, politely rejects the invitation, too busy with work to come, and Shige tries not to look pleased when Koyama tells him, “I guess it’s just you and me on our own then.”
It’s peak season, and the two of them wind their way around couples and families and people sitting on blankets, picnicking beneath the trees.
Whenever the wind ruffles the branches, loose flowers come off and dance through the air before they float to the ground, speckling the grass and pavement.
“Look, Shige.” Koyama says, putting an arm across his shoulders and pointing up into the air. “It’s like it’s snowing.”
Shige blushes a light, cherry pink and his eyes follow the direction of Koyama’s finger, watching the blossoms scatter.
Summer crashes upon them like a wave, a sudden blaze of heat and expansive blue skies taking the country by surprise.
Koyama and Shige go to Okinawa, taking advantage of a mutual two consecutive days off, before the rainy season can steal away the sunshine and crush them under its oppressive humidity.
The beach is crowded; so much so that nobody recognizes them, and they find that they can relax in the throng of people.
Shige’s mouth goes as dry as the sand burning their feet while he watches Koyama rub lotion into his sun-golden skin, hands running over his muscles and the dips and curves of his body. He feels his face grow red, as though he’s been burnt, and decides to blame it on the heat if he’s asked.
“I can’t reach my back.” Koyama snaps him out of it, holding out the tube of sunscreen expectantly.
Shige swallows, taking it from him and squeezing the lotion into his hand. Koyama turns around and Shige takes a deep breath before hesitantly pressing his hands to Koyama’s shoulder blades and then rubbing down to coat the rest of the skin. He massages it in, trying to ignore the way Koyama’s breath hitches, then comes out in a sudden rush, like the ebb and flow of the tide.
“I can do yours for you too.” He offers once Shige is done, and Shige does and doesn’t want him to at the same time.
Koyama’s hands are warm like sunshine, gentle but firm as they travel up and down his back, careful not to miss a single spot. Then they pause on his hips, fingers resting there ever so lightly, and Shige thinks that he’s about to burn up. He tries to ignore the feeling, but it lingers in the back of his mind, as ever-present as the incessant chirp of cicadas.
Once they’re both sufficiently protected from sun burn, they run down to the emerald green waves, and spend the rest of the day splashing and screaming like children.
Koyama grabs Shige to dunk him in the ocean, and Shige tells himself that it’s just wishful thinking when it feels like Koyama holds him a little closer, a little tighter, than he really needs to.
Summer fades to autumn, and suddenly the trees look like they’ve been set on fire, vibrant shades of red and orange and gold sweeping across the country. The first cool breeze of the season arrives, chasing away the lingering humidity and long, sweaty days, and the nights slowly grow longer and colder.
Koyama and Shige go to view the autumn maples with a friend of Koyama’s, and Shige listens to their laughter and chatter mingling with the crunch of fallen brittle, brown leaves under their feet.
When Koyama’s friend leaves, the two of them go for an early dinner and sit at a table in the back of a warm, cosy restaurant. They order chestnut rice and mushrooms, and Shige watches the look of complete bliss on Koyama’s face as he eats.
He grins when he catches Shige staring.
“There’s nothing quite like seasonal food.” He says. Shige nods and ducks his head, suddenly very intent on focusing on his own meal.
They hole up in Shige’s apartment one evening when the wind picks up and the temperature drops rapidly. Originally they’d planned to go out, but now they’re content to curl up on the couch in comfortable silence, each with their own book and Koyama with a blanket that he borrows from Shige draped over his knees.
Time wears on, and Shige’s eyelids start to droop, his book lying open but forgotten in his lap. His head feels heavy and he starts to slump, finding himself lying on Koyama’s shoulder.
“Sorry.” He murmurs, but Koyama just chuckles, low and throaty, and places his hand against Shige’s face, gently but insistently turning his head so that their lips meet.
Koyama kisses him until his face is flushed as crimson as the maples outside, and Shige melts against him, deaf to all but the sound of their lips meeting, the blustering southerly against the windows and his own heartbeat in his ears.
Winter creeps in slowly, like a cat sneaking under the kotatsu, bringing with it frosty mornings, and a biting cold that Shige doesn’t feel when Koyama looks at him with his warm, brown eyes.
December is nearly over, and Shige is looking forward to Christmas, to New Years, to the first snow of the season. Each new day feels refreshing, and Shige enjoys taking great lungfuls of chilly morning air when he wakes up, chasing away the leftover fog of sleep from his brain. Even more so, he enjoys waking up to the feeling of Koyama’s warmth curled tightly against him, whenever he stays the night.
The two of them spend their free time sharing hotpots to heat themselves up from the inside, and sitting under the kotatsu at Koyama’s house, bumping and brushing their feet together. Sometimes Koyama sends Shige a look that leaves him feeling warm and cold all at once, causing chills up and down his spine while his cheeks turn rosy, as though he’s been walking outside with the winter wind blowing into his face.
The first time they make love, it’s on a bitter, icy night, and yet Koyama’s skin is so very hot against his own as he covers him with his body. Shige’s breath rises in white clouds, even inside the bedroom, as he moans Koyama’s name in a voice that sounds like air.
They pull the blankets tightly around themselves before they fall asleep, fitting perfectly against one another like a hand in a woollen glove.
They ring in the New Year together at the Countdown, sharing a quick look that goes unnoticed by the fans and cameras and other members.
As the last minute of the year draws to a close, Shige can’t help but think about everything that's happened and how quickly it all went by. And when the date changes, he surreptitiously leans into Koyama because it’s all he can do right now, and thinks that he can’t wait to spend the next year with him too.
Pairing: Koyama/Shigeaki
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1,500
Prompt: #029 - Season
A/N: Happy (OVER A MONTH LATE OMG) birthday, unfenced-fire! This isn't particularly long or plotty. I wanted to write a piece where the atmosphere and description were the main focus and this just came out. I hope you like it. :) (And as usual, thanks to sanjihan for the beta. :D)
Summary: Koyama and Shige, from spring through to winter.
Spring blooms, slow and easy, bringing hints of warmth and clouds of pollen. Flowers begin to unfurl on trees, and the year loses the feeling of a new beginning. Koyama finally stops writing ‘09 instead of ‘10 whenever he puts down the date and starts complaining of hay fever, an itchy nose and running eyes.
Shige tells him that in the time it takes to whine about his problem, he could’ve already done something to fix it. Koyama shoves him and calls him a hypocrite, and they squabble like baby birds, all the while trying to hide their grins.
“We should go flower viewing.” Koyama tells him one day, with eyes that are as bright as ever, even though he’s sniffling behind a flu mask. He isn’t sick, but it helps control his allergies and so he wears it anyway.
Shige nods, heart fluttering like a petal caught in the breeze. He feels silly for indulging in a fantasy of them arm-in-arm beneath stretching branches heavy with pale blossoms, but a little happy too.
Koyama is pleased that he’s agreed and adds, “We should take Tegoshi as well. 22 years old and he’s never gone flower viewing before. I still can’t believe that.”
“That’s because he’s a disgrace to all Japanese.” Shige says, and Koyama laughs because he knows it was meant as a joke.
Secretly, Shige just wanted to say it because he’s disappointed that it won’t just be Koyama and him.
Tegoshi, however, politely rejects the invitation, too busy with work to come, and Shige tries not to look pleased when Koyama tells him, “I guess it’s just you and me on our own then.”
It’s peak season, and the two of them wind their way around couples and families and people sitting on blankets, picnicking beneath the trees.
Whenever the wind ruffles the branches, loose flowers come off and dance through the air before they float to the ground, speckling the grass and pavement.
“Look, Shige.” Koyama says, putting an arm across his shoulders and pointing up into the air. “It’s like it’s snowing.”
Shige blushes a light, cherry pink and his eyes follow the direction of Koyama’s finger, watching the blossoms scatter.
Summer crashes upon them like a wave, a sudden blaze of heat and expansive blue skies taking the country by surprise.
Koyama and Shige go to Okinawa, taking advantage of a mutual two consecutive days off, before the rainy season can steal away the sunshine and crush them under its oppressive humidity.
The beach is crowded; so much so that nobody recognizes them, and they find that they can relax in the throng of people.
Shige’s mouth goes as dry as the sand burning their feet while he watches Koyama rub lotion into his sun-golden skin, hands running over his muscles and the dips and curves of his body. He feels his face grow red, as though he’s been burnt, and decides to blame it on the heat if he’s asked.
“I can’t reach my back.” Koyama snaps him out of it, holding out the tube of sunscreen expectantly.
Shige swallows, taking it from him and squeezing the lotion into his hand. Koyama turns around and Shige takes a deep breath before hesitantly pressing his hands to Koyama’s shoulder blades and then rubbing down to coat the rest of the skin. He massages it in, trying to ignore the way Koyama’s breath hitches, then comes out in a sudden rush, like the ebb and flow of the tide.
“I can do yours for you too.” He offers once Shige is done, and Shige does and doesn’t want him to at the same time.
Koyama’s hands are warm like sunshine, gentle but firm as they travel up and down his back, careful not to miss a single spot. Then they pause on his hips, fingers resting there ever so lightly, and Shige thinks that he’s about to burn up. He tries to ignore the feeling, but it lingers in the back of his mind, as ever-present as the incessant chirp of cicadas.
Once they’re both sufficiently protected from sun burn, they run down to the emerald green waves, and spend the rest of the day splashing and screaming like children.
Koyama grabs Shige to dunk him in the ocean, and Shige tells himself that it’s just wishful thinking when it feels like Koyama holds him a little closer, a little tighter, than he really needs to.
Summer fades to autumn, and suddenly the trees look like they’ve been set on fire, vibrant shades of red and orange and gold sweeping across the country. The first cool breeze of the season arrives, chasing away the lingering humidity and long, sweaty days, and the nights slowly grow longer and colder.
Koyama and Shige go to view the autumn maples with a friend of Koyama’s, and Shige listens to their laughter and chatter mingling with the crunch of fallen brittle, brown leaves under their feet.
When Koyama’s friend leaves, the two of them go for an early dinner and sit at a table in the back of a warm, cosy restaurant. They order chestnut rice and mushrooms, and Shige watches the look of complete bliss on Koyama’s face as he eats.
He grins when he catches Shige staring.
“There’s nothing quite like seasonal food.” He says. Shige nods and ducks his head, suddenly very intent on focusing on his own meal.
They hole up in Shige’s apartment one evening when the wind picks up and the temperature drops rapidly. Originally they’d planned to go out, but now they’re content to curl up on the couch in comfortable silence, each with their own book and Koyama with a blanket that he borrows from Shige draped over his knees.
Time wears on, and Shige’s eyelids start to droop, his book lying open but forgotten in his lap. His head feels heavy and he starts to slump, finding himself lying on Koyama’s shoulder.
“Sorry.” He murmurs, but Koyama just chuckles, low and throaty, and places his hand against Shige’s face, gently but insistently turning his head so that their lips meet.
Koyama kisses him until his face is flushed as crimson as the maples outside, and Shige melts against him, deaf to all but the sound of their lips meeting, the blustering southerly against the windows and his own heartbeat in his ears.
Winter creeps in slowly, like a cat sneaking under the kotatsu, bringing with it frosty mornings, and a biting cold that Shige doesn’t feel when Koyama looks at him with his warm, brown eyes.
December is nearly over, and Shige is looking forward to Christmas, to New Years, to the first snow of the season. Each new day feels refreshing, and Shige enjoys taking great lungfuls of chilly morning air when he wakes up, chasing away the leftover fog of sleep from his brain. Even more so, he enjoys waking up to the feeling of Koyama’s warmth curled tightly against him, whenever he stays the night.
The two of them spend their free time sharing hotpots to heat themselves up from the inside, and sitting under the kotatsu at Koyama’s house, bumping and brushing their feet together. Sometimes Koyama sends Shige a look that leaves him feeling warm and cold all at once, causing chills up and down his spine while his cheeks turn rosy, as though he’s been walking outside with the winter wind blowing into his face.
The first time they make love, it’s on a bitter, icy night, and yet Koyama’s skin is so very hot against his own as he covers him with his body. Shige’s breath rises in white clouds, even inside the bedroom, as he moans Koyama’s name in a voice that sounds like air.
They pull the blankets tightly around themselves before they fall asleep, fitting perfectly against one another like a hand in a woollen glove.
They ring in the New Year together at the Countdown, sharing a quick look that goes unnoticed by the fans and cameras and other members.
As the last minute of the year draws to a close, Shige can’t help but think about everything that's happened and how quickly it all went by. And when the date changes, he surreptitiously leans into Koyama because it’s all he can do right now, and thinks that he can’t wait to spend the next year with him too.