drabble batch - JE - various
Author: anamuan
A/N: proof that hey! i can write other things too! (go figure)
koyaryojin||crying stars||cherry stems
Prompt: for nihongofrancais; KoyaRyoJin "you two are such copycats"
Pairing: Koyama/Ryo/Jin
Word count & Rating: 210, G.
"You changed your hair." It was the first thing Jin said when Koyama came in the room, uttered fast on the heels of the automatic 'okaeri' he'd sing-songed out through the genkan.
"Yeah, I thought I would, for the drama."
Jin pursed his lips, head cocked to one side. "I liked your old hair. But this is good too."
"Black is best. We're Japanese." Ryo opinioned, padding in barefoot from the bathroom, toweling off his own hair. "Ofuro's free."
"Just because you look like shit with lighter hair doesn't mean Kei does," Jin returned, challenge in his stance. That was kind of automatic too--Jin did it because he could and because he liked to see what he could push Ryo to do. Usually Koyama left them to their games; it was all too stressful for his tastes. He liked to get his attention in more positive ways.
"I'll take a bath then," Koyama said, effectively stopping either from trying to co-opt him for their side of the conflict. The last thing he hears before he closes the bathroom door with a quiet snick is Ryo calling "You two are such copycats!" down the hall after him. He sighs, stepping under the shower spray. It was good to be home.
Prompt: sillyandmorbid "I woke up, and one of us was crying stars."
Pairing: Pin (because we say so)
Word count & Rating: 457. G-ish (warnings for abuse of first and second person)
I slept and I dreamt. I dreamt of a roiling ocean of clouds and bobbing along its surface like a leaf or a sailboat. I dreamt of the sun rising and setting beneath us, fast forward, like a ball on a string. I dreamt of the moon, a bright, brittle surface, clean and smooth and cool, a dinner plate, set on the table between us, and you poured pasta into it and told me to eat.
I woke up and looked at you sleeping in the moonlight--the bright, brittle moon still up in the sky (strings of spaghetti dangling from it, a smudge of red sauce on the sky where you'd dropped a meatball)--and one of us was crying stars; my eyes were too dazzled by the blinking, winking sparkles to tell who. The bedsheets and blankets and pillows were a roiling ocean of clouds beneath us, spreading out past their edges to fill up the grey and black, all the way to the walls or the end of the universe. And I lost my balance when my light-bedazzled eyes caught the reflection of a sailboat (or a leaf) bobbing along the edges of my vision.
And then you moved, a twist of the torso and a curl of unconscious limbs, and my world steadied, finding focus in those familiar, ordinary motions even when the whole world shivered in fantastical, phantasmal whirls around me. The cloud-ocean became our bed and its edges no longer overflowed; and the moon was just the moon, free of smears of spaghetti sauce. When I leaned over to kiss you, the sun still rose and set, fast forward, swinging like a ball on a string. You sighed and slept and turned your face toward me like moonrise. Stardust teased the edges of my vision and glittered on your lashes, and I didn't know where either ended or began.
I slept and I dreamt. I dreamt of the day I first met you, and the day I first kissed you, and the day you first came home with me. I dreamt of awful junior costumes and yakiniku; of video games and ninja fights and cracking, adolescent voices. I dreamt of sunrise and sunset and your face as you grew old, your bright, clear eyes, and your hair growing white. It never boiled or roiled or billowed and no leaves or sails skittered across its surface.
I woke up and looked at you sprawled in stippled sunlight and thought you looked more magical than ever. I leaned over to kiss you and you sighed and woke and turned your face toward me. You breathed 'morning' against my lips in the bright morning sunshine, and when you blinked, stardust glittered around your eyes.
Prompt: for shatteredinu; something to do with the fact Jin can tie cherry stems into knots
Pairing: Pin
Word count & Rating: 259, PG for Jin's tongue.
Without notice, Jin started leaving Yamapi single, stemless cherries several times throughout the day. Yamapi started looking for them, expecting to find one on the edge of his mirror when he got in, discovering another one caught in the folds of his bag when he got his 15 minute break, then finding a last balanced precariously on the top of his water bottle after practice.
Pi only caught Jin at it half the time, but he never got to ask what the deal was because whenever he tried, Jin scowled at him and told him to eat it and shut up. Pi wasn't going to turn down cherries, so he did.
Then, just as suddenly, Pi stopped getting them. He got his morning before practice cherry, and then no more. Pi saw Jin in passing several times that day, but no more cherries mysteriously (or otherwise) appeared. Even more worrying, Jin looked smug all that day, and all the next, and all the day after that. Pi missed his cherries, but he never got a chance to ask why they stopped, or if he was going to get more.
On day four, Pi found a small pile of forty cherry stems, all tied in neat little knots. A white corner of paper stuck out from under the pile. When Pi swept the stems into the wastebin, he found it was a note. Busy tonight? There was one last knotted stem taped to the paper. Pi grinned and shoved the note into his pocket. He hadn't. But he did now.
A/N: proof that hey! i can write other things too! (go figure)
koyaryojin||crying stars||cherry stems
Prompt: for nihongofrancais; KoyaRyoJin "you two are such copycats"
Pairing: Koyama/Ryo/Jin
Word count & Rating: 210, G.
"You changed your hair." It was the first thing Jin said when Koyama came in the room, uttered fast on the heels of the automatic 'okaeri' he'd sing-songed out through the genkan.
"Yeah, I thought I would, for the drama."
Jin pursed his lips, head cocked to one side. "I liked your old hair. But this is good too."
"Black is best. We're Japanese." Ryo opinioned, padding in barefoot from the bathroom, toweling off his own hair. "Ofuro's free."
"Just because you look like shit with lighter hair doesn't mean Kei does," Jin returned, challenge in his stance. That was kind of automatic too--Jin did it because he could and because he liked to see what he could push Ryo to do. Usually Koyama left them to their games; it was all too stressful for his tastes. He liked to get his attention in more positive ways.
"I'll take a bath then," Koyama said, effectively stopping either from trying to co-opt him for their side of the conflict. The last thing he hears before he closes the bathroom door with a quiet snick is Ryo calling "You two are such copycats!" down the hall after him. He sighs, stepping under the shower spray. It was good to be home.
Prompt: sillyandmorbid "I woke up, and one of us was crying stars."
Pairing: Pin (because we say so)
Word count & Rating: 457. G-ish (warnings for abuse of first and second person)
I slept and I dreamt. I dreamt of a roiling ocean of clouds and bobbing along its surface like a leaf or a sailboat. I dreamt of the sun rising and setting beneath us, fast forward, like a ball on a string. I dreamt of the moon, a bright, brittle surface, clean and smooth and cool, a dinner plate, set on the table between us, and you poured pasta into it and told me to eat.
I woke up and looked at you sleeping in the moonlight--the bright, brittle moon still up in the sky (strings of spaghetti dangling from it, a smudge of red sauce on the sky where you'd dropped a meatball)--and one of us was crying stars; my eyes were too dazzled by the blinking, winking sparkles to tell who. The bedsheets and blankets and pillows were a roiling ocean of clouds beneath us, spreading out past their edges to fill up the grey and black, all the way to the walls or the end of the universe. And I lost my balance when my light-bedazzled eyes caught the reflection of a sailboat (or a leaf) bobbing along the edges of my vision.
And then you moved, a twist of the torso and a curl of unconscious limbs, and my world steadied, finding focus in those familiar, ordinary motions even when the whole world shivered in fantastical, phantasmal whirls around me. The cloud-ocean became our bed and its edges no longer overflowed; and the moon was just the moon, free of smears of spaghetti sauce. When I leaned over to kiss you, the sun still rose and set, fast forward, swinging like a ball on a string. You sighed and slept and turned your face toward me like moonrise. Stardust teased the edges of my vision and glittered on your lashes, and I didn't know where either ended or began.
I slept and I dreamt. I dreamt of the day I first met you, and the day I first kissed you, and the day you first came home with me. I dreamt of awful junior costumes and yakiniku; of video games and ninja fights and cracking, adolescent voices. I dreamt of sunrise and sunset and your face as you grew old, your bright, clear eyes, and your hair growing white. It never boiled or roiled or billowed and no leaves or sails skittered across its surface.
I woke up and looked at you sprawled in stippled sunlight and thought you looked more magical than ever. I leaned over to kiss you and you sighed and woke and turned your face toward me. You breathed 'morning' against my lips in the bright morning sunshine, and when you blinked, stardust glittered around your eyes.
Prompt: for shatteredinu; something to do with the fact Jin can tie cherry stems into knots
Pairing: Pin
Word count & Rating: 259, PG for Jin's tongue.
Without notice, Jin started leaving Yamapi single, stemless cherries several times throughout the day. Yamapi started looking for them, expecting to find one on the edge of his mirror when he got in, discovering another one caught in the folds of his bag when he got his 15 minute break, then finding a last balanced precariously on the top of his water bottle after practice.
Pi only caught Jin at it half the time, but he never got to ask what the deal was because whenever he tried, Jin scowled at him and told him to eat it and shut up. Pi wasn't going to turn down cherries, so he did.
Then, just as suddenly, Pi stopped getting them. He got his morning before practice cherry, and then no more. Pi saw Jin in passing several times that day, but no more cherries mysteriously (or otherwise) appeared. Even more worrying, Jin looked smug all that day, and all the next, and all the day after that. Pi missed his cherries, but he never got a chance to ask why they stopped, or if he was going to get more.
On day four, Pi found a small pile of forty cherry stems, all tied in neat little knots. A white corner of paper stuck out from under the pile. When Pi swept the stems into the wastebin, he found it was a note. Busy tonight? There was one last knotted stem taped to the paper. Pi grinned and shoved the note into his pocket. He hadn't. But he did now.