Cinnamon
Rating: G
Pairing: Taguchi Junnosuke/Ueda Tatsuya
Disclaimer: This is fo realz. And toilets can fly.
Notes: 192-word drabble sprouted from ravyn_ashling’s silly but still very much valid reasoning as to why Ueda’s shirts are always so big.
Cinnamon
~ 192 words
Ueda had a lot going on around him. Photoshoots, interviews, music shows, sugar-high bandmates who for some reason refused to leave him alone in much-desired peace. Kame wouldn’t stop pestering him about his new haircut, Koki wouldn’t stop asking if he and Maru could go frolic with him in the lavender fields next month and Jin, well, he was just plain annoying.
But then that was just four of them and Ueda was left to wonder where his one other hell-spawned bandmate could be, and soon enough spotted Taguchi across the dressing room, standing right in front of the full-length mirror sporting a gray and black sweater that looked way too small for his body frame and way too familiar in Ueda’s eyes.
“Taguchi,” Ueda began, speaking as calmly as he could manage. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish by wearing my clothes?”
Taguchi looked up and came face to face with the reflection of a very irate Ueda, hand-on-hip and all.
“I don’t know,” Taguchi replied.
Then, a thoughtful pause, the delicate dash of roses and cinnamon lingering close.
“I just kind of like how they smell like you.”
End.
Pairing: Taguchi Junnosuke/Ueda Tatsuya
Disclaimer: This is fo realz. And toilets can fly.
Notes: 192-word drabble sprouted from ravyn_ashling’s silly but still very much valid reasoning as to why Ueda’s shirts are always so big.
Cinnamon
~ 192 words
Ueda had a lot going on around him. Photoshoots, interviews, music shows, sugar-high bandmates who for some reason refused to leave him alone in much-desired peace. Kame wouldn’t stop pestering him about his new haircut, Koki wouldn’t stop asking if he and Maru could go frolic with him in the lavender fields next month and Jin, well, he was just plain annoying.
But then that was just four of them and Ueda was left to wonder where his one other hell-spawned bandmate could be, and soon enough spotted Taguchi across the dressing room, standing right in front of the full-length mirror sporting a gray and black sweater that looked way too small for his body frame and way too familiar in Ueda’s eyes.
“Taguchi,” Ueda began, speaking as calmly as he could manage. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish by wearing my clothes?”
Taguchi looked up and came face to face with the reflection of a very irate Ueda, hand-on-hip and all.
“I don’t know,” Taguchi replied.
Then, a thoughtful pause, the delicate dash of roses and cinnamon lingering close.
“I just kind of like how they smell like you.”
End.