{oneshot} of bubbles and guitars ; shigeda
TITLE: Of Bubbles and Guitars
PAIRING: Kato Shigeaki x Ueda Tatsuya
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Do not own
GENRE: Fluff, romance
NOTES: Originally posted here. Sequel to Of Spiders and Photographs
SUMMARY: It has been a week since you've last seen Ueda; since the two of you kissed in the snow. You think you should have at least bumped into him once, but the other man seems to be elusive. But still, you continue on, with your camera safely around your neck and the thought of him in your mind.
It has been a week since you've last seen Ueda; since the two of you kissed in the snow. You think you should have at least bumped into him once, but the other man seems to be elusive. But still, you continue on, with your camera safely around your neck and the thought of him in your mind.
You walk around the park you first found him in, pointing your camera in every direction possible. It's market day, and stalls of every colour dot the park; their flags flapping in the wind. Children weave their way through the makeshift alleys, their shrieks of happiness floating over the whole area. You take a photo of two little girls laughing as they try to keep their icecream on their cones. They have icecream all over their faces, but they don't care. You smile as you watch their innocence.
Light music reaches your ears, then. You follow it, and see a small stage. Only a trickle of people stand around, listening to the quiet sounds of the guitar. You see a figure sitting up there, on a tall wooden stool, with his legs crossed and a deep brown guitar resting on his knees. Slim fingers work their way over it's fretboard, almost caressing it. You watch as he moves slightly forward, and begins to sing softly into the microphone placed infront of him. His voice moves across your skin; through your body, making you shiver. It's a song about tomorrow; about dreams; about life. You let out a breath in awe. As you move forward, you realise you recognise those hands moving carefully over the neck of the guitar; you recognise that copper hair. He looks up from his guitar - looks right at you - and keeps singing.
You wait for him to finish the song, and when he does, you clap the loudest. He inclines his head at the small crowd, and leaves the stage. An act of at least ten young girls come up next, complete with cowboy hats and skirts too short, and start dancing to some foreign song you don't know. You're not really paying that much attention to the pink-clad girls - you're trying to find out where he's gone.
You wander around the park, searching for him. But he and his guitar seem to have disappeared. You keep taking photos, however. One was of a little brown poodle sitting down next to a large sign; one of a small boy running headfirst into a flock of birds; one of a couple sitting in their own world.
You find something to eat, and you walk around absentmindedly chewing it as you halfheartedly look in each of the stalls. You find many art and craft stalls, but not a certain copper-haired man.
Suddenly, a stream of bubbles blow past you, flying up into the air. You turn around, noticing that they are coming from a stall far away from you. You smile, and take a photo of the bubbles as they swirl around you. You watch as a group of children run around, trying to catch the dancing bubbles and shrieking loudly. You take another photograph of the children playing around, but then lower your camera slowly.
His copper hair glints in the sunlight as he happily gazes at the bubbles surrounding him. His smile widens when two little girls skip past him, almost knocking him over. He holds two large golden retrievers by their leashes, and they playfully snap at the air, trying to pop the soapy spheres. They tug at his arms, and he laughs, letting them pull him.
You walk over to him, but he's already seen you. He is breathless but smiling nonetheless as you reach him. His dogs try to bowl you over - they are as excited as the small children running around - but he pulls lightly on their leashes and they calm down, content to just investigate the different smells on your jeans.
"Long time no see," he says lightly, tucking away a loose clump of hair behind his ear.
"Why haven't you called me?" You ask. You've never been one to beat around the bush.
He shrugs, and states honestly, "I don't have a phone."
"How the hell can you not have a phone?"
"I don't know. I just...don't. I don't really need one."
"Yes, you do! To ring m-- never mind, we'll go and get you one later."
"I won't be able to use it."
"I'll teach you."
"I have no rebuttal for that."
"I know."
You've missed him. You've missed the way his eyes sparkle when he's laughing; missed those small laugh lines on his delicate face; missed his slightly crooked teeth. He asks you if you want to go for a walk, and you agree, taking the red leash out of his hands.
The two of you walk away from the stalls and over to the children's play equipment. The bubbles still reach you, and you laugh as he bats at them happily. You sit underneath the slide, and he lets the dogs off their leashes.
"Isn't that illegal?"
"Most likely," is his reply as he settles himself next to you.
"...shouldn't you bring them back, then?"
"Why? They're not hurting anyone," he murmurs as he fiddles with the bark which covers the ground.
"What did I tell you about answering questions with questions?"
"You just did it."
You smirk, and he lifts his eyes to yours. There's that second of heartbeats and deep breaths where neither of you are sure if the other is about to lean forward and kiss the other, and then it's gone when one of his dogs gallops over with a stick in her mouth, bowling them both over.
You both laugh, and try to untangle yourself from him. With a gasp, you frantically check your camera to see if it's still in one piece. He laughs again, and grabs your camera from you, eyes twinkling as you squawk at him.
He turns it around to you, and as you reach to take it back from him, he snaps a photo of you. He then turns it to his dogs, and takes another photo. He giggles, and gives it back to you.
"You're evil," you say, slinging the camera strap over your head once again, and glare at him.
He smiles sweetly, and brings his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them. You smile, and sneakily take a photo of him as he stares off, and he doesn't notice at all. Suddenly, he stands up, almost bumping his head on the slide above him, and runs off into the clump of trees nearby, which were too carefully spaced to have naturally grown there. He leaps into the branches of one, and you can see him smiling happily. You follow him, but don't dare to even try to climb it - coordination has never been one of your strong points.
"What're you doing up there?"
He contemplates your question, swinging his legs back and forth as he tilts his head to the sky. "I'm...up a tree."
"I can see that."
"Well, why did you ask, then?"
You chuckle, and pull on his leg. He yelps, and kicks out at you good-naturedly. He stills.
"Hey - what would happen if you couldn't do photography anymore?" he asks.
"I... don't know. Probably try to get a proper job," you answer, lazily focusing your camera on him. You don't fiddle frantically with knobs and buttons to get the photo to the perfect standard; you just let it be. You snap random shots of him as he gazes out.
"Yeah, but...what kind of a proper job?"
"Uh...I don't know. I'm kind of useless at everything," you laugh, but suddenly he's right in front of you, too close, and gazing right into your eyes. "What?"
"You're not useless at anything. You are you. You are who you made yourself to be. You're the tall, black-haired man who can make me say things I never thought I would say. You're the only person who my dogs like. You're the only person I like."
Your heart is beating uncontrollably, but somehow you hear yourself say, "But we really only just met."
He smiles. "Isn't that better? Isn't it better that we embrace things now, rather than let it simmer and wonder what might have happened? What if I die, two weeks from now? What would you do?"
Your eyebrows furrow as you think about all he's said. "I'd cry," you say blankly.
He laughs, and hits you over the head. It hurts, but not as much as the thought of him not being there; not being in the world; not being with you.
He starts to say something, but you cut him off, embracing him tightly. "Don't go. Don't ever go. You've changed my entire life. I don't want to think of 'what if's'. I want to think of you. Of us. Please."
You don't know where these words come from. You're changing - you can feel it. You know he's smiling against your neck, and his arms come up to hug you tightly. You never want to move apart from him.
"I won't go, then," is his answer, and you feel content; content to just stand there and hug him. He's not. He struggles after a while, and you let him go, worried.
"I forgot my guitar!" he exclaims, and rushes off. You follow him at the same pace, your longer legs catching up to him soon. The two dogs quickly follow, but you trip over them and Ueda trips over you. The two of you land in a tangle of limbs, dogs and camera.
You're face is so close to his. He leans in and quickly pecks you on the lips, but you wind an arm around his waist and bring him close again.
You won't ever let him go.
END
PAIRING: Kato Shigeaki x Ueda Tatsuya
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Do not own
GENRE: Fluff, romance
NOTES: Originally posted here. Sequel to Of Spiders and Photographs
SUMMARY: It has been a week since you've last seen Ueda; since the two of you kissed in the snow. You think you should have at least bumped into him once, but the other man seems to be elusive. But still, you continue on, with your camera safely around your neck and the thought of him in your mind.
It has been a week since you've last seen Ueda; since the two of you kissed in the snow. You think you should have at least bumped into him once, but the other man seems to be elusive. But still, you continue on, with your camera safely around your neck and the thought of him in your mind.
You walk around the park you first found him in, pointing your camera in every direction possible. It's market day, and stalls of every colour dot the park; their flags flapping in the wind. Children weave their way through the makeshift alleys, their shrieks of happiness floating over the whole area. You take a photo of two little girls laughing as they try to keep their icecream on their cones. They have icecream all over their faces, but they don't care. You smile as you watch their innocence.
Light music reaches your ears, then. You follow it, and see a small stage. Only a trickle of people stand around, listening to the quiet sounds of the guitar. You see a figure sitting up there, on a tall wooden stool, with his legs crossed and a deep brown guitar resting on his knees. Slim fingers work their way over it's fretboard, almost caressing it. You watch as he moves slightly forward, and begins to sing softly into the microphone placed infront of him. His voice moves across your skin; through your body, making you shiver. It's a song about tomorrow; about dreams; about life. You let out a breath in awe. As you move forward, you realise you recognise those hands moving carefully over the neck of the guitar; you recognise that copper hair. He looks up from his guitar - looks right at you - and keeps singing.
You wait for him to finish the song, and when he does, you clap the loudest. He inclines his head at the small crowd, and leaves the stage. An act of at least ten young girls come up next, complete with cowboy hats and skirts too short, and start dancing to some foreign song you don't know. You're not really paying that much attention to the pink-clad girls - you're trying to find out where he's gone.
You wander around the park, searching for him. But he and his guitar seem to have disappeared. You keep taking photos, however. One was of a little brown poodle sitting down next to a large sign; one of a small boy running headfirst into a flock of birds; one of a couple sitting in their own world.
You find something to eat, and you walk around absentmindedly chewing it as you halfheartedly look in each of the stalls. You find many art and craft stalls, but not a certain copper-haired man.
Suddenly, a stream of bubbles blow past you, flying up into the air. You turn around, noticing that they are coming from a stall far away from you. You smile, and take a photo of the bubbles as they swirl around you. You watch as a group of children run around, trying to catch the dancing bubbles and shrieking loudly. You take another photograph of the children playing around, but then lower your camera slowly.
His copper hair glints in the sunlight as he happily gazes at the bubbles surrounding him. His smile widens when two little girls skip past him, almost knocking him over. He holds two large golden retrievers by their leashes, and they playfully snap at the air, trying to pop the soapy spheres. They tug at his arms, and he laughs, letting them pull him.
You walk over to him, but he's already seen you. He is breathless but smiling nonetheless as you reach him. His dogs try to bowl you over - they are as excited as the small children running around - but he pulls lightly on their leashes and they calm down, content to just investigate the different smells on your jeans.
"Long time no see," he says lightly, tucking away a loose clump of hair behind his ear.
"Why haven't you called me?" You ask. You've never been one to beat around the bush.
He shrugs, and states honestly, "I don't have a phone."
"How the hell can you not have a phone?"
"I don't know. I just...don't. I don't really need one."
"Yes, you do! To ring m-- never mind, we'll go and get you one later."
"I won't be able to use it."
"I'll teach you."
"I have no rebuttal for that."
"I know."
You've missed him. You've missed the way his eyes sparkle when he's laughing; missed those small laugh lines on his delicate face; missed his slightly crooked teeth. He asks you if you want to go for a walk, and you agree, taking the red leash out of his hands.
The two of you walk away from the stalls and over to the children's play equipment. The bubbles still reach you, and you laugh as he bats at them happily. You sit underneath the slide, and he lets the dogs off their leashes.
"Isn't that illegal?"
"Most likely," is his reply as he settles himself next to you.
"...shouldn't you bring them back, then?"
"Why? They're not hurting anyone," he murmurs as he fiddles with the bark which covers the ground.
"What did I tell you about answering questions with questions?"
"You just did it."
You smirk, and he lifts his eyes to yours. There's that second of heartbeats and deep breaths where neither of you are sure if the other is about to lean forward and kiss the other, and then it's gone when one of his dogs gallops over with a stick in her mouth, bowling them both over.
You both laugh, and try to untangle yourself from him. With a gasp, you frantically check your camera to see if it's still in one piece. He laughs again, and grabs your camera from you, eyes twinkling as you squawk at him.
He turns it around to you, and as you reach to take it back from him, he snaps a photo of you. He then turns it to his dogs, and takes another photo. He giggles, and gives it back to you.
"You're evil," you say, slinging the camera strap over your head once again, and glare at him.
He smiles sweetly, and brings his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them. You smile, and sneakily take a photo of him as he stares off, and he doesn't notice at all. Suddenly, he stands up, almost bumping his head on the slide above him, and runs off into the clump of trees nearby, which were too carefully spaced to have naturally grown there. He leaps into the branches of one, and you can see him smiling happily. You follow him, but don't dare to even try to climb it - coordination has never been one of your strong points.
"What're you doing up there?"
He contemplates your question, swinging his legs back and forth as he tilts his head to the sky. "I'm...up a tree."
"I can see that."
"Well, why did you ask, then?"
You chuckle, and pull on his leg. He yelps, and kicks out at you good-naturedly. He stills.
"Hey - what would happen if you couldn't do photography anymore?" he asks.
"I... don't know. Probably try to get a proper job," you answer, lazily focusing your camera on him. You don't fiddle frantically with knobs and buttons to get the photo to the perfect standard; you just let it be. You snap random shots of him as he gazes out.
"Yeah, but...what kind of a proper job?"
"Uh...I don't know. I'm kind of useless at everything," you laugh, but suddenly he's right in front of you, too close, and gazing right into your eyes. "What?"
"You're not useless at anything. You are you. You are who you made yourself to be. You're the tall, black-haired man who can make me say things I never thought I would say. You're the only person who my dogs like. You're the only person I like."
Your heart is beating uncontrollably, but somehow you hear yourself say, "But we really only just met."
He smiles. "Isn't that better? Isn't it better that we embrace things now, rather than let it simmer and wonder what might have happened? What if I die, two weeks from now? What would you do?"
Your eyebrows furrow as you think about all he's said. "I'd cry," you say blankly.
He laughs, and hits you over the head. It hurts, but not as much as the thought of him not being there; not being in the world; not being with you.
He starts to say something, but you cut him off, embracing him tightly. "Don't go. Don't ever go. You've changed my entire life. I don't want to think of 'what if's'. I want to think of you. Of us. Please."
You don't know where these words come from. You're changing - you can feel it. You know he's smiling against your neck, and his arms come up to hug you tightly. You never want to move apart from him.
"I won't go, then," is his answer, and you feel content; content to just stand there and hug him. He's not. He struggles after a while, and you let him go, worried.
"I forgot my guitar!" he exclaims, and rushes off. You follow him at the same pace, your longer legs catching up to him soon. The two dogs quickly follow, but you trip over them and Ueda trips over you. The two of you land in a tangle of limbs, dogs and camera.
You're face is so close to his. He leans in and quickly pecks you on the lips, but you wind an arm around his waist and bring him close again.
You won't ever let him go.
END