[fic] Nozawa x Fukasawa - Is There Glitter? [1/1]
Title: Is there Glitter?
Author: BG
Pairing: Nozawa Yuki x Fukasawa Tatsuya
Ratings: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
archive
NB: Mah...I hope this is ok posted here... ;_;
How do you know if you’ve fallen in love? And if it’s true that you have actually gone and fallen for someone, how on Earth are you supposed to know if they are the one? How do you know if you’ve met your soulmate?
Is there glitter?
And bright flashing strobe lights?
Does the Orchestra swell?
Does your skin tingle?
Do you stay with the person you’ve fallen for until you find someone else you fall harder for? Or are you supposed to stay with the first person you have feelings for? Why are there so many questions? Where am I supposed to find all the answers?
Nozawa Yuki was just like every other fifteen year old boy in Japan, make that the entire planet. He went to school. He paid as little attention in class as he could get away with. He did his homework begrudgingly because it kept his parents and his teachers off his back. He pretended to not notice that the girls giggled behind their hands when he walked past or that they snuck glances at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. He laughed and played pranks with his friends. He went to the arcades after school sometimes, when his work schedule allowed it that is.
Actually, maybe he wasn’t at all like every other fifteen year old boy. He sung and danced and wore some of the most heinous costumes known to man kind. But he wouldn’t give it up for all the treasures the world could offer him.
Nozawa Yuki loved being on stage.
That was one thing he was very, very certain of.
He loved it.
…what was love really?
It was a cloudy, rainy, utterly miserable morning that saw Nozawa late. He tore down the hall shrugging into his jacket all the while simultaneously running his free hand through his hair to try and tame his locks into some semblance of order. He narrowly avoided falling head first down the stairs by a hairsbreadth and stopped for half a heartbeat to calm his fluttering pulse. He hopped the last few steps to the entrance room as he attempted to pull on his socks.
“Yuki! Breakfast.”
“Running late!” He called back into the room. He slid one foot into his sneakers and then the other, stooping to tie the laces. He scooped up his backpack and unlatched the door in one movement.
“At least take lunch. I made you favourite.”
He hesitated. It was enough time for his mother to come bustling out of the hall, arm outstretched. He grabbed at the parcel she cared and swooped down to kiss her cheek in gratitude.
“Be safe.”
He heard her call after him as he was already out the door and down the hall. He couldn’t wait until lunch. His mouth was already watering at the thought. He loved his mother’s cooking so much. He wondered idly, if he should ever get a girlfriend, if he would like her cooking, well that was assuming she could cook at all.
Nozawa deemed that it was necessary; for a girl to be worthy in his eyes, she must at least be able to prepare his favourite.
For then, should that happen….he would love the girl as well as the dish.
Nozawa shuffled onstage, clasping the edges of the black cloak covering him closed and keeping an eyes on Sakuma’s feet in front of him. The stage is dark and the very last thing he wants is to step on the end of his cloak, trip and face plant it in front of all those girls. Granted the girls weren’t here for him. They were here for Yabu and Hikaru, well currently just for Hikaru.
He hears Miyadate give a soft countdown under his breath and then the music swells around him and he turns and lifts his arm and then the lights come on and he’s preoccupied with getting rid of the cloak without tangling himself further in it.
Nozawa watches Hikaru stalk down those stairs like he owns the stage. He watches him flirt with the camera before turning his attention to the mass of screaming fangirls. His ‘idol’ fixed stare firmly in place. Nozawa never ceases to be amazed at how insane the fangirls go when he even looks in their direction. He continues to dance, the steps coming naturally to him and he can’t help but wonder if maybe one day the girls will come to see him perform.
He shakes his head as once again the choreography brings Hikaru back into his direct line of sight. It’s too bad about the costume though. Nozawa thinks that, although he likes red, he wouldn’t be able to carry off wearing something that fluffy, sequined and just plain shiny. Hikaru’s costume is borderline ridiculous, wait, who was he kidding, it was ridiculous but Hikaru wore it with pride.
He carried the whole performance.
Despite the fact that Nozawa loved the limelight, he didn’t think he could ever be that charismatic. He didn’t have that kind of pull.
But Nozawa reasoned that he loved to dance. He was only fifteen. It was enough for now. He would continue to work hard.
It was an ordinary afternoon. It hadn’t been particularly sunny but neither had the sky been overcast. Nothing exciting had happened at school. He hadn’t gotten scolded for not completing his homework so, he supposed, that was just about the only highlight to an otherwise ordinary day.
He greeted by name those he knew and nodded to as many as met his eye as he walked through the halls on his way to the change rooms that same afternoon. He pushed open the door and was accosted by the sight of half naked bodies.
Nozawa didn’t even blink.
It was something he saw every other day. He turned to his right and made his way down one of the locker lined rows. He stumbled over a random shoe and his flailing arms caught hold of something rather solid and very warm.
He blinked. And then blinked again.
Fukasawa.
Then he blushed.
“Careful.”
Steady hands helped him regain his balance and an easy smile set his heart all a-flutter. Nozawa sat heavily on one of the benches and tried to steady his hands in order to undo his laces.
Ordinary.
That was anything other than ordinary.
Nozawa glanced up to see Fukasawa sling his arm across Iwamoto’s shoulders as they went to leave the locker room. He sighed.
What had happened to ordinary?
Nozawa loved 'extraordinary' but ordinary was needed. Ordinary was good. As much as Nozawa loved being extraordinary he liked being plain old ordinary as well.
Ordinary was safe. Ordinary was not confusing.
When it happened the first time Nozawa brushed it off as a mere accident. It was crowded; there were a lot of them hovering around in the stage wings. The second time came weeks after the first. He started at first, whirled around but no one met his eyes and so he wrote off as a simple slip of the hand. The third time however was definitely not an accident, nor could it in any way be construed as a slip of the hand.
He jumped and this time when he swung around to see whose hand it had been a pair of laughing eyes met his. He frowned at the sight of them and in a blink of an eye all the laughter was gone.
All that remained in that gaze was a burning heat that scorched. It was searing and it caused him to blush and avert his eyes.
Nozawa’s heart pounded at an erratic pace against his rib cage. And for the rest of the afternoon, and that night, and all of the coming week, he was unable to see anything else bar that smoldering gaze every time he closed his eyes.
There was a muted bang and then the stage was flooded with glittery slips that caught the light and sparkled as they floated gently to the stage floor. Nozawa heard the crowd ‘Ooh’ and ‘Ahh’ but he didn’t bat an eye lash. He just kept dancing. As he spun out of a turn he caught his eye and fought down a blush.
He couldn’t see the throng of girls in the audience, the lights too bright to really make out anything past the stage end. It didn’t matter though; he wasn’t performing for them anymore. He danced for himself only. He’d keep on dancing even without the bright lights and the fangirls and the glitter.
He stepped to his right and turned to his left and suddenly he is right beside him and it somehow makes Nozawa short of breath. Fukasawa turned all his thoughts inside out and roundabout. It wasn’t long ago that he thought he knew exactly what he wanted and now he isn’t sure about anything.
Not sure about anything except that Fukasawa is confusing, is anything but ordinary, is passionate in what he loves and gentle as a friend and he has the unique ability to make Nozawa’s brain freeze.
Nozawa used to think that everything was about the glitter.
Now everything is about Fukasawa.
He isn’t quite sure what he thinks about that.
Nozawa knew a confrontation of sorts was warranted. He knew it was in the cards, he knew it was coming. He had just sort of planned on not being there when it happened. Which really, didn’t garner a whole lot of sense but this was one conversation he would rather not have. Ever.
He was getting ready to leave after a days practice when a strong hand closed over his wrist, clasping it firmly. He blinked in surprise and then once again in something more akin to dread.
“Fukasawa.”
He tried to tug his hand free but the hold was tight. He willed his heart rate to slow down and he chanced a glance at Fukasawa’s eyes. They met his without wavering and Nozawa gulped in surprise.
Not a word was said and the seconds ticked by ever so slowly. Each new moment weighed down on Nozawa’s shoulders. He looked up from his intent examination of Fukasawa’s left sneaker to see his captor gazing at his calmly. He opened his mouth to voice his objection but he never got a word out. For at that very same instant, Fukasawa, using his hold on Nozawa as leverage, swooped in and pressed as very soft, very gentle kiss to the corner of Nozawa’s lips.
Nozawa was stunned. His heart skipped a beat. Forget his brain freezing, or turning to mush, it went on holiday and took with it his ability to speak. When he finally regained some semblance of thought Fukasawa was long gone.
He touched his fingertips to his lips.
This was unexpected. Something not totally unpleasant. Not exactly extraordinary although definitely not ordinary.
Maybe…just maybe… Because it was Fukasawa…
Maybe...
What is love?
Nozawa doesn’t know. He doesn’t have all the answers, after all he is only fifteen.
Nozawa smiles as Fukasawa’s hand finds his. He’s willing to go through the paces to see what this whole love thing in all about. He doesn’t know if Fukka is his soulmate and sometimes he isn’t exactly certain what it is he feels for Fukka. He’s only really sure of one thing. He definitely wants to find out.
He thinks, maybe it is love.
As Fukka presses a kiss to his cheek, Nozawa finds himself blushing.
Yeah, Love.
He hopes it is.
xXx
A/N: Buh. I have absolutely no idea. I was all set, heading in one clear direction and then I got distracted, veered completely off course, crash landed in a different stratosphere….
T_T Mou. It makes not a whole lot of sense….but umm….mhmm…..yes. >>;
Be safe
-BG
Author: BG
Pairing: Nozawa Yuki x Fukasawa Tatsuya
Ratings: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
archive
NB: Mah...I hope this is ok posted here... ;_;
How do you know if you’ve fallen in love? And if it’s true that you have actually gone and fallen for someone, how on Earth are you supposed to know if they are the one? How do you know if you’ve met your soulmate?
Is there glitter?
And bright flashing strobe lights?
Does the Orchestra swell?
Does your skin tingle?
Do you stay with the person you’ve fallen for until you find someone else you fall harder for? Or are you supposed to stay with the first person you have feelings for? Why are there so many questions? Where am I supposed to find all the answers?
Nozawa Yuki was just like every other fifteen year old boy in Japan, make that the entire planet. He went to school. He paid as little attention in class as he could get away with. He did his homework begrudgingly because it kept his parents and his teachers off his back. He pretended to not notice that the girls giggled behind their hands when he walked past or that they snuck glances at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. He laughed and played pranks with his friends. He went to the arcades after school sometimes, when his work schedule allowed it that is.
Actually, maybe he wasn’t at all like every other fifteen year old boy. He sung and danced and wore some of the most heinous costumes known to man kind. But he wouldn’t give it up for all the treasures the world could offer him.
Nozawa Yuki loved being on stage.
That was one thing he was very, very certain of.
He loved it.
…what was love really?
It was a cloudy, rainy, utterly miserable morning that saw Nozawa late. He tore down the hall shrugging into his jacket all the while simultaneously running his free hand through his hair to try and tame his locks into some semblance of order. He narrowly avoided falling head first down the stairs by a hairsbreadth and stopped for half a heartbeat to calm his fluttering pulse. He hopped the last few steps to the entrance room as he attempted to pull on his socks.
“Yuki! Breakfast.”
“Running late!” He called back into the room. He slid one foot into his sneakers and then the other, stooping to tie the laces. He scooped up his backpack and unlatched the door in one movement.
“At least take lunch. I made you favourite.”
He hesitated. It was enough time for his mother to come bustling out of the hall, arm outstretched. He grabbed at the parcel she cared and swooped down to kiss her cheek in gratitude.
“Be safe.”
He heard her call after him as he was already out the door and down the hall. He couldn’t wait until lunch. His mouth was already watering at the thought. He loved his mother’s cooking so much. He wondered idly, if he should ever get a girlfriend, if he would like her cooking, well that was assuming she could cook at all.
Nozawa deemed that it was necessary; for a girl to be worthy in his eyes, she must at least be able to prepare his favourite.
For then, should that happen….he would love the girl as well as the dish.
Nozawa shuffled onstage, clasping the edges of the black cloak covering him closed and keeping an eyes on Sakuma’s feet in front of him. The stage is dark and the very last thing he wants is to step on the end of his cloak, trip and face plant it in front of all those girls. Granted the girls weren’t here for him. They were here for Yabu and Hikaru, well currently just for Hikaru.
He hears Miyadate give a soft countdown under his breath and then the music swells around him and he turns and lifts his arm and then the lights come on and he’s preoccupied with getting rid of the cloak without tangling himself further in it.
Nozawa watches Hikaru stalk down those stairs like he owns the stage. He watches him flirt with the camera before turning his attention to the mass of screaming fangirls. His ‘idol’ fixed stare firmly in place. Nozawa never ceases to be amazed at how insane the fangirls go when he even looks in their direction. He continues to dance, the steps coming naturally to him and he can’t help but wonder if maybe one day the girls will come to see him perform.
He shakes his head as once again the choreography brings Hikaru back into his direct line of sight. It’s too bad about the costume though. Nozawa thinks that, although he likes red, he wouldn’t be able to carry off wearing something that fluffy, sequined and just plain shiny. Hikaru’s costume is borderline ridiculous, wait, who was he kidding, it was ridiculous but Hikaru wore it with pride.
He carried the whole performance.
Despite the fact that Nozawa loved the limelight, he didn’t think he could ever be that charismatic. He didn’t have that kind of pull.
But Nozawa reasoned that he loved to dance. He was only fifteen. It was enough for now. He would continue to work hard.
It was an ordinary afternoon. It hadn’t been particularly sunny but neither had the sky been overcast. Nothing exciting had happened at school. He hadn’t gotten scolded for not completing his homework so, he supposed, that was just about the only highlight to an otherwise ordinary day.
He greeted by name those he knew and nodded to as many as met his eye as he walked through the halls on his way to the change rooms that same afternoon. He pushed open the door and was accosted by the sight of half naked bodies.
Nozawa didn’t even blink.
It was something he saw every other day. He turned to his right and made his way down one of the locker lined rows. He stumbled over a random shoe and his flailing arms caught hold of something rather solid and very warm.
He blinked. And then blinked again.
Fukasawa.
Then he blushed.
“Careful.”
Steady hands helped him regain his balance and an easy smile set his heart all a-flutter. Nozawa sat heavily on one of the benches and tried to steady his hands in order to undo his laces.
Ordinary.
That was anything other than ordinary.
Nozawa glanced up to see Fukasawa sling his arm across Iwamoto’s shoulders as they went to leave the locker room. He sighed.
What had happened to ordinary?
Nozawa loved 'extraordinary' but ordinary was needed. Ordinary was good. As much as Nozawa loved being extraordinary he liked being plain old ordinary as well.
Ordinary was safe. Ordinary was not confusing.
When it happened the first time Nozawa brushed it off as a mere accident. It was crowded; there were a lot of them hovering around in the stage wings. The second time came weeks after the first. He started at first, whirled around but no one met his eyes and so he wrote off as a simple slip of the hand. The third time however was definitely not an accident, nor could it in any way be construed as a slip of the hand.
He jumped and this time when he swung around to see whose hand it had been a pair of laughing eyes met his. He frowned at the sight of them and in a blink of an eye all the laughter was gone.
All that remained in that gaze was a burning heat that scorched. It was searing and it caused him to blush and avert his eyes.
Nozawa’s heart pounded at an erratic pace against his rib cage. And for the rest of the afternoon, and that night, and all of the coming week, he was unable to see anything else bar that smoldering gaze every time he closed his eyes.
There was a muted bang and then the stage was flooded with glittery slips that caught the light and sparkled as they floated gently to the stage floor. Nozawa heard the crowd ‘Ooh’ and ‘Ahh’ but he didn’t bat an eye lash. He just kept dancing. As he spun out of a turn he caught his eye and fought down a blush.
He couldn’t see the throng of girls in the audience, the lights too bright to really make out anything past the stage end. It didn’t matter though; he wasn’t performing for them anymore. He danced for himself only. He’d keep on dancing even without the bright lights and the fangirls and the glitter.
He stepped to his right and turned to his left and suddenly he is right beside him and it somehow makes Nozawa short of breath. Fukasawa turned all his thoughts inside out and roundabout. It wasn’t long ago that he thought he knew exactly what he wanted and now he isn’t sure about anything.
Not sure about anything except that Fukasawa is confusing, is anything but ordinary, is passionate in what he loves and gentle as a friend and he has the unique ability to make Nozawa’s brain freeze.
Nozawa used to think that everything was about the glitter.
Now everything is about Fukasawa.
He isn’t quite sure what he thinks about that.
Nozawa knew a confrontation of sorts was warranted. He knew it was in the cards, he knew it was coming. He had just sort of planned on not being there when it happened. Which really, didn’t garner a whole lot of sense but this was one conversation he would rather not have. Ever.
He was getting ready to leave after a days practice when a strong hand closed over his wrist, clasping it firmly. He blinked in surprise and then once again in something more akin to dread.
“Fukasawa.”
He tried to tug his hand free but the hold was tight. He willed his heart rate to slow down and he chanced a glance at Fukasawa’s eyes. They met his without wavering and Nozawa gulped in surprise.
Not a word was said and the seconds ticked by ever so slowly. Each new moment weighed down on Nozawa’s shoulders. He looked up from his intent examination of Fukasawa’s left sneaker to see his captor gazing at his calmly. He opened his mouth to voice his objection but he never got a word out. For at that very same instant, Fukasawa, using his hold on Nozawa as leverage, swooped in and pressed as very soft, very gentle kiss to the corner of Nozawa’s lips.
Nozawa was stunned. His heart skipped a beat. Forget his brain freezing, or turning to mush, it went on holiday and took with it his ability to speak. When he finally regained some semblance of thought Fukasawa was long gone.
He touched his fingertips to his lips.
This was unexpected. Something not totally unpleasant. Not exactly extraordinary although definitely not ordinary.
Maybe…just maybe… Because it was Fukasawa…
Maybe...
What is love?
Nozawa doesn’t know. He doesn’t have all the answers, after all he is only fifteen.
Nozawa smiles as Fukasawa’s hand finds his. He’s willing to go through the paces to see what this whole love thing in all about. He doesn’t know if Fukka is his soulmate and sometimes he isn’t exactly certain what it is he feels for Fukka. He’s only really sure of one thing. He definitely wants to find out.
He thinks, maybe it is love.
As Fukka presses a kiss to his cheek, Nozawa finds himself blushing.
Yeah, Love.
He hopes it is.
xXx
A/N: Buh. I have absolutely no idea. I was all set, heading in one clear direction and then I got distracted, veered completely off course, crash landed in a different stratosphere….
T_T Mou. It makes not a whole lot of sense….but umm….mhmm…..yes. >>;
Be safe
-BG