isaboobs wonderful birthday present
This drabbles have a trick! But to find it out you have to read prologuesized's too, here!
1. I can resist everything except temptation
It starts out as a joke, Kame admits. He loves making Nakamaru break into nervous sweat with that stern, unimpressed expression on his face as he teasingly flirts with him. After a while, though, he gets a little bit too caught up in it. He’s addicted, the impossible flirt he is, to his argyle-shirted bandmate in a twistedly sexual sense.
He loves the way Nakamaru tenses when his fingers deliberately brush over his shoulders or hips just a little too slow to be entirely natural. He loves it how his cheeks flush and stare keeps escaping to Kame’s pouty lips as he cocks his head, chin extended towards the target of his little plays.
If there’s something Kame’s never been able to resist, it’s temptation. He knew fully well what he was getting into when he first kissed Jin, or Pi, or Koki, or even Fujigaya. He did. He just really, really couldn’t resist.
Like he can’t now either. The camera conveniently turns away from their faces, and Kame follows his threat through with a peck and a smirk. Nakamaru shivers, stares at him wide-eyed and gulps. Kame laughs, pats his shoulder and prances away.
Sometimes he just really can’t help himself.
2. Selfishness is not living as one whishes to, but asking others to live as one whishes.
When Bem had first flexed and inspected his monster form, he hadn’t hated himself. Those first brief hours of naivety, he thinks now, had probably been the calmest moments of his life. Back then, he hadn’t known he could never belong, because he wasn’t enough of anything else that existed and was accepted. Back then, he hadn’t known he’s a mere freak of nature (or science) that will only encounter brutality and betrayal if someone so much as sees the scales on his shoulders and forearms peeking from the neckline of his shirt. More than anything, he wishes he was just like everybody else. He wishes his human form wouldn’t change, that he wouldn’t have the mutations normal humans don’t have. He cannot stand himself, cannot live with himself, but he cannot die either.
He doesn’t want to be a human because he doesn’t want to be himself. He wants to be a human, because he doesn’t want to be the monster everyone hates, no matter how hard he tries to be the ideal, kind and loving human.
Perhaps he’s too selfless to be a human. Every now and then, amidst observing the crowds of humans, he wishes they would be just a little more like the “monsters” they demonize so much.
3. One can live for years sometimes without living at all, and then all life comes crowding into a single hour.
Apathetically, he lives with a distance. He’s away, somewhere far, unable to grasp things or feel like his feet really touch the ground. He’s not here, somehow, unexplainably.
Nao slips. Her body tilts, starts falling, hair fluttering, and Hiroto instinctively dashes after her. They crash below the surface of the cold pool water, and for the first time in years Hiroto’s mind feels bright, alert. Alive.
He laughs. Nudges her playfully while trying to keep a grimace on, but it’s impossible when she’s giggling and it’s setting fireworks off inside his skin. The water is cold, but he feels warm, gentle and drawn in. He hopes it’s a short, fleeting feeling - he cannot fall for a girl like this, a girl out of his world and reach. This woman, Tsukioka Nao, isn’t meant to be with him.
Her flesh is soft as Hiroto lifts her from her sides to push her upwards towards her friend who’s spluttering something incredibly fast and extending her arms to help her friend out of the water. Then she’s gone, out of the pool, and their brief moment of sudden romantic intimacy is gone.
She reaches her hand out for him and he eyes it warily, not quite sure if he should take it or not. In the end she grasps his hand and he clings to it helplessly as he climbs off the pool back to her. As simple as that, he becomes attached. She’s special, and he cannot even begin to describe how.
$. Be yourself; eveyrone else is already taken.
Akira is eating. He’s munching on some cheap red bean pastry like it’s the greatest gourmet delicacy in the whole wide world. His entity is warm and comforting as it rests by Shuuji’s side without a care in the world, so different from him it’s absurd to find them connecting the way they do.
“Producing,” Shuuji speaks slowly and hesitantly, his breath catching in his throat, “was stupid, wasn’t it?”
“Hmm?”
Shuuji turns to look at him, scared. His friend is alert, staring at him with his round eyes like he would’ve declared something impossibly absurd and horrible just now, like he would be leaving and wants Akira to stay away from him or something. His puffed cheeks remind Shuuji of a chipmunk.
“You’re my best friend. You and Nobuta,” Shuuji finally concludes with a nervous smile and turns his eyes back to the ever-stretching ocean in front of them. His heart flutters and he feels light and tight simultaneously. Still, he knows there’s nothing else he would choose over this. “Don’t ever change.”
“Understood,” Akira laughs, his voice shrill and teasing as he rocks where he sits. “’Akira, don’t change!’ Ha ha ha!”
Shuuji elbows him so that he falls over in the sand, the pastry flying a few feet away. It’s his turn to laugh when Akira’s frightened wail cuts the air.
5. If you're not long, I'll wait for you all my life
He feels queasy, tight and anxious - uneasy. His knuckles keep massaging the source of all the confusion inside of him, the annoying, reckless organ that seems to assume it can think for Kyohei, push him around like a little puppet that’s grown around it.
He wants to tell it ‘no!’ No way it can suddenly request autonomy or select itself as a notable candidate for decision-making. Why does he even need a heart when it is such a feeble little thing that can fool around and break itself because it really ought to know better but it doesn’t.
Sigh.
He rolls on his side and curls up. The hours keep ticking by yet he cannot sleep. He can see her behind his closed eyelids, smiling, growling, wailing and screaming until his heart goes frenzy. She’s so incredibly beautiful inside out that Kyohei hates himself for adoring her in such a creepy way because of it. He hates everyone who doesn’t, too, because so many people don’t. It’s just purely idiotic. She can be so radiant.
They’re good, he admits to himself when he’s tired and his brains are buzzing encouragingly. There’s this connection, something, it happens whenever their feelings get spilled, powers united and fingers entwined. It’s like an electric current he wants to plug himself in forever.
He’s in love. Unstoppably, helplessly and uncontrollably in love.
He’d wait forever to have her look at him the same way and not startle away because of the curse on his face.
6. To live is the rarest thing in the world; most people exist, that's all
“Do you have dreams, Ryu?”¨
It comes out of nowhere. They’re slaughtering some ancient Japanese soldiers in a videogame when Hayato suddenly goes serious after smoothly executing a combo. Ryu raises his eyebrows, perplexed - of course he has dreams. He’s a human, after all.
“Hnn.”
“Cool,” Hayato snarls, his character in the game dashing forward to challenge one of the guys they need to beat to win. “Like what?”
“What do you mean what?” Ryu sighs. He hops on a horse to rush to the other side of the map to save a struggling allied officer. Hayato groans. His cheeks are flushed and teeth grinding.
“Like, you know, dreams. Stuff you don’t pursue because it feels so stupid and absurd, but it just feels like your life is going by meaninglessly because you don’t,” Hayato barks, his fingers violent on the buttons. “Like, let’s say, if I happened to like you but never told you. Should people pursue that kind of dreams?”
“What are you talking about?” Ryu breathes out irritably, his head spinning. His brows knit together and fingers shake. His character isn’t going straight, it keeps snaking idiotically. He’s losing precious time because of Hayato. His friend is going to make them repeat the level. “Talk to Yankumi about that if it bothers you.”
Pause screen. Huh?
He falls over when Hayato suddenly attacks him. He’s pushed over and there’s a weight over him, a hot breath on his face and a kiss.
Oh. His heart sets off.
7. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars
A vast amount of the bouncy, happy-go-lucky attitude in Shuuji’s life is, in fact, fake. For years he hasn’t really stopped to think about it, because he thinks he has sort of felt happy in his own morose and superior way, but when the realisation really hits him, it knocks him off his feet.
He’s curled up to himself pathetically as Akira hugs him against his chest. Normally he’d go for Nobuta for angsty things like this, but she’s not an option anymore, not when she lives such a long distance away from them. He’s stuck with Akira whose worst moods are shown by pouty brooding. He cannot possibly understand.
“Shh, Shuuji-kun,” Akira chimes quietly. He tries to lure him back to happiness with his playful voice. It only makes Shuuji sob harder, if possible. “It’s not that bad. You’re not that unhappy, not really. Yes, you’ve hurt and played a few people but you’re over that. You’ve got us now. So cheer up. Kon kon.”
Akira lifts him up firmly and looks at him straight into his swollen and bloodshot eyes. Shuuji trembles helplessly, thinking, pondering, lost in his maze of despair.
Then Akira pinches his nose, making mucus ooze out. They yelp in disgust and then Akira laughs and the world lights up again, just a little.
Akira’s optimism and quirky personality are sometimes the only things keeping him sane. Someday, he wishes, he’ll be able to tell him that, among other things.
8. A good friend will always stab you in the front
He’s stilled. The myriad of emotions are racking his body but he isn’t cracking anymore, cannot crack anymore, push out of his very skin. He’s a human now, fragile and stuck in a form in which he’s unable to express himself.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Natsume cries. He’s sorry, Bem can feel that, he can feel it so intensely it rips pieces of his heart, tired, soft and sleek muscle. He gasps shakily, tears drawing shimmering lines on his still youthful face. One day, nowadays, he’s going to lose that too. A stranger’s just waiting to greet him from the mirror.
“I understand,” he speaks, his voice low and trembling. It cracks and he feels more tears falling, sees the way Natsume’s lips curve into a sorrowful expression when he tries to brush away Bem’s. He closes his eyes, sits still as Natsume hugs him tightly and brushes his fingers through the long locks of silver hair that fall over Bem’s scale-less, velvety shoulders.
His heart is broken. It’s not like he wouldn’t have known that it’d all end like this, but maybe he just wished it would never end at all. Natsume’s wiping his face dry with his sleeves as he cries over the sudden rejection and wonders why he let the man this close.
He always knew that Natsume doesn’t love him as much as he loves his wife. For him, though, Natsume will always be the most precious human being in the entire world.
9. The heart was made to be broken
He’s a little bit stupid and a little bit naïve. He tries to deny it, because it’s not like he wants them to be his qualities. However, when Jin lets out his loud, shrill giggles and keeps teasingly jabbing his finger in the soft spots between his ribs and tells him how cute those things about him are, he doesn’t think it’s that bad after all.
When Jin suddenly confesses to him how utterly in love he is with the scrawny and awkward Kamenashi, he’s left wondering what went wrong.
10. You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
Kame is indulgent. He’s been declared “the eternal jeanist” by the media, and he’s got shitloads of money to act on every whim he gets that requires heavy spending. He purchases a kimono to a wedding and manages to unintentionally outshine the bride, he orders custom furniture all the way from Germany and he hoards all kinds of articles of clothing and jewellery for his precious kouhais, all just because he feels like it and he can.
Understandably, something like that is a glorious dream for many people. Fans drool, acquaintances keep checking him out and flirting with him and the producers and directors fight each other when trying to get him in their dramas. He’s valued, loved and appreciated by everyone. People think that with his looks and wealth, he’s got it all.
Jin doesn’t care about any of that. What he does care about are the private hours when Kame cooks gourmet food in his kitchen and sings, his voice chiming, enchanting and alluring. It’s nasal, imperfect, and his occasional English is accented and spoken thickly like he’s got a potato stuffed inside his mouth.
Jin harmonizes and Kame’s voice cracks when he breaks into toothy grin midline.
11. Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Humans are observant. They’re obsessed with the overwhelming need to know everything about other people’s lives. Paparazzi and fans stalk him, everybody judges him (possibly all around the world, too) and no matter what, he’s not allowed to openly live his life his way because he’s got it all and he cannot afford to lose it just because of the travesty the humankind have become.
Kissing a man is the biggest no. It’s worse than drugs, getting a sixteen year old teen pregnant or being a horrible diva. Being gay is just downright wrong for an idol of his nature - he’s the wet dream of nearly every woman of Japan so he just has to suck it up and pursue a healthy, heterosexual relationship that he preferably keeps hidden because hey, that’s how things work. Capiche?
Kitamura undresses him. His eyes are dark and he’s older, much older, but none of it matters. Kame moans, arches his back on the red sheets as Kitamura presses wet kisses over his skin, trailing down his neck and stomach.
He understands. They’re the same, whores of the entertainment industry. They know the cost of what they’re protecting; they know they can never get more than these occasional onetime chances with whoever is trustworthy enough. They don’t really know how to love, other than on screen.
Right now, it doesn’t matter either.
1. I can resist everything except temptation
It starts out as a joke, Kame admits. He loves making Nakamaru break into nervous sweat with that stern, unimpressed expression on his face as he teasingly flirts with him. After a while, though, he gets a little bit too caught up in it. He’s addicted, the impossible flirt he is, to his argyle-shirted bandmate in a twistedly sexual sense.
He loves the way Nakamaru tenses when his fingers deliberately brush over his shoulders or hips just a little too slow to be entirely natural. He loves it how his cheeks flush and stare keeps escaping to Kame’s pouty lips as he cocks his head, chin extended towards the target of his little plays.
If there’s something Kame’s never been able to resist, it’s temptation. He knew fully well what he was getting into when he first kissed Jin, or Pi, or Koki, or even Fujigaya. He did. He just really, really couldn’t resist.
Like he can’t now either. The camera conveniently turns away from their faces, and Kame follows his threat through with a peck and a smirk. Nakamaru shivers, stares at him wide-eyed and gulps. Kame laughs, pats his shoulder and prances away.
Sometimes he just really can’t help himself.
2. Selfishness is not living as one whishes to, but asking others to live as one whishes.
When Bem had first flexed and inspected his monster form, he hadn’t hated himself. Those first brief hours of naivety, he thinks now, had probably been the calmest moments of his life. Back then, he hadn’t known he could never belong, because he wasn’t enough of anything else that existed and was accepted. Back then, he hadn’t known he’s a mere freak of nature (or science) that will only encounter brutality and betrayal if someone so much as sees the scales on his shoulders and forearms peeking from the neckline of his shirt. More than anything, he wishes he was just like everybody else. He wishes his human form wouldn’t change, that he wouldn’t have the mutations normal humans don’t have. He cannot stand himself, cannot live with himself, but he cannot die either.
He doesn’t want to be a human because he doesn’t want to be himself. He wants to be a human, because he doesn’t want to be the monster everyone hates, no matter how hard he tries to be the ideal, kind and loving human.
Perhaps he’s too selfless to be a human. Every now and then, amidst observing the crowds of humans, he wishes they would be just a little more like the “monsters” they demonize so much.
3. One can live for years sometimes without living at all, and then all life comes crowding into a single hour.
Apathetically, he lives with a distance. He’s away, somewhere far, unable to grasp things or feel like his feet really touch the ground. He’s not here, somehow, unexplainably.
Nao slips. Her body tilts, starts falling, hair fluttering, and Hiroto instinctively dashes after her. They crash below the surface of the cold pool water, and for the first time in years Hiroto’s mind feels bright, alert. Alive.
He laughs. Nudges her playfully while trying to keep a grimace on, but it’s impossible when she’s giggling and it’s setting fireworks off inside his skin. The water is cold, but he feels warm, gentle and drawn in. He hopes it’s a short, fleeting feeling - he cannot fall for a girl like this, a girl out of his world and reach. This woman, Tsukioka Nao, isn’t meant to be with him.
Her flesh is soft as Hiroto lifts her from her sides to push her upwards towards her friend who’s spluttering something incredibly fast and extending her arms to help her friend out of the water. Then she’s gone, out of the pool, and their brief moment of sudden romantic intimacy is gone.
She reaches her hand out for him and he eyes it warily, not quite sure if he should take it or not. In the end she grasps his hand and he clings to it helplessly as he climbs off the pool back to her. As simple as that, he becomes attached. She’s special, and he cannot even begin to describe how.
$. Be yourself; eveyrone else is already taken.
Akira is eating. He’s munching on some cheap red bean pastry like it’s the greatest gourmet delicacy in the whole wide world. His entity is warm and comforting as it rests by Shuuji’s side without a care in the world, so different from him it’s absurd to find them connecting the way they do.
“Producing,” Shuuji speaks slowly and hesitantly, his breath catching in his throat, “was stupid, wasn’t it?”
“Hmm?”
Shuuji turns to look at him, scared. His friend is alert, staring at him with his round eyes like he would’ve declared something impossibly absurd and horrible just now, like he would be leaving and wants Akira to stay away from him or something. His puffed cheeks remind Shuuji of a chipmunk.
“You’re my best friend. You and Nobuta,” Shuuji finally concludes with a nervous smile and turns his eyes back to the ever-stretching ocean in front of them. His heart flutters and he feels light and tight simultaneously. Still, he knows there’s nothing else he would choose over this. “Don’t ever change.”
“Understood,” Akira laughs, his voice shrill and teasing as he rocks where he sits. “’Akira, don’t change!’ Ha ha ha!”
Shuuji elbows him so that he falls over in the sand, the pastry flying a few feet away. It’s his turn to laugh when Akira’s frightened wail cuts the air.
5. If you're not long, I'll wait for you all my life
He feels queasy, tight and anxious - uneasy. His knuckles keep massaging the source of all the confusion inside of him, the annoying, reckless organ that seems to assume it can think for Kyohei, push him around like a little puppet that’s grown around it.
He wants to tell it ‘no!’ No way it can suddenly request autonomy or select itself as a notable candidate for decision-making. Why does he even need a heart when it is such a feeble little thing that can fool around and break itself because it really ought to know better but it doesn’t.
Sigh.
He rolls on his side and curls up. The hours keep ticking by yet he cannot sleep. He can see her behind his closed eyelids, smiling, growling, wailing and screaming until his heart goes frenzy. She’s so incredibly beautiful inside out that Kyohei hates himself for adoring her in such a creepy way because of it. He hates everyone who doesn’t, too, because so many people don’t. It’s just purely idiotic. She can be so radiant.
They’re good, he admits to himself when he’s tired and his brains are buzzing encouragingly. There’s this connection, something, it happens whenever their feelings get spilled, powers united and fingers entwined. It’s like an electric current he wants to plug himself in forever.
He’s in love. Unstoppably, helplessly and uncontrollably in love.
He’d wait forever to have her look at him the same way and not startle away because of the curse on his face.
6. To live is the rarest thing in the world; most people exist, that's all
“Do you have dreams, Ryu?”¨
It comes out of nowhere. They’re slaughtering some ancient Japanese soldiers in a videogame when Hayato suddenly goes serious after smoothly executing a combo. Ryu raises his eyebrows, perplexed - of course he has dreams. He’s a human, after all.
“Hnn.”
“Cool,” Hayato snarls, his character in the game dashing forward to challenge one of the guys they need to beat to win. “Like what?”
“What do you mean what?” Ryu sighs. He hops on a horse to rush to the other side of the map to save a struggling allied officer. Hayato groans. His cheeks are flushed and teeth grinding.
“Like, you know, dreams. Stuff you don’t pursue because it feels so stupid and absurd, but it just feels like your life is going by meaninglessly because you don’t,” Hayato barks, his fingers violent on the buttons. “Like, let’s say, if I happened to like you but never told you. Should people pursue that kind of dreams?”
“What are you talking about?” Ryu breathes out irritably, his head spinning. His brows knit together and fingers shake. His character isn’t going straight, it keeps snaking idiotically. He’s losing precious time because of Hayato. His friend is going to make them repeat the level. “Talk to Yankumi about that if it bothers you.”
Pause screen. Huh?
He falls over when Hayato suddenly attacks him. He’s pushed over and there’s a weight over him, a hot breath on his face and a kiss.
Oh. His heart sets off.
7. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars
A vast amount of the bouncy, happy-go-lucky attitude in Shuuji’s life is, in fact, fake. For years he hasn’t really stopped to think about it, because he thinks he has sort of felt happy in his own morose and superior way, but when the realisation really hits him, it knocks him off his feet.
He’s curled up to himself pathetically as Akira hugs him against his chest. Normally he’d go for Nobuta for angsty things like this, but she’s not an option anymore, not when she lives such a long distance away from them. He’s stuck with Akira whose worst moods are shown by pouty brooding. He cannot possibly understand.
“Shh, Shuuji-kun,” Akira chimes quietly. He tries to lure him back to happiness with his playful voice. It only makes Shuuji sob harder, if possible. “It’s not that bad. You’re not that unhappy, not really. Yes, you’ve hurt and played a few people but you’re over that. You’ve got us now. So cheer up. Kon kon.”
Akira lifts him up firmly and looks at him straight into his swollen and bloodshot eyes. Shuuji trembles helplessly, thinking, pondering, lost in his maze of despair.
Then Akira pinches his nose, making mucus ooze out. They yelp in disgust and then Akira laughs and the world lights up again, just a little.
Akira’s optimism and quirky personality are sometimes the only things keeping him sane. Someday, he wishes, he’ll be able to tell him that, among other things.
8. A good friend will always stab you in the front
He’s stilled. The myriad of emotions are racking his body but he isn’t cracking anymore, cannot crack anymore, push out of his very skin. He’s a human now, fragile and stuck in a form in which he’s unable to express himself.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Natsume cries. He’s sorry, Bem can feel that, he can feel it so intensely it rips pieces of his heart, tired, soft and sleek muscle. He gasps shakily, tears drawing shimmering lines on his still youthful face. One day, nowadays, he’s going to lose that too. A stranger’s just waiting to greet him from the mirror.
“I understand,” he speaks, his voice low and trembling. It cracks and he feels more tears falling, sees the way Natsume’s lips curve into a sorrowful expression when he tries to brush away Bem’s. He closes his eyes, sits still as Natsume hugs him tightly and brushes his fingers through the long locks of silver hair that fall over Bem’s scale-less, velvety shoulders.
His heart is broken. It’s not like he wouldn’t have known that it’d all end like this, but maybe he just wished it would never end at all. Natsume’s wiping his face dry with his sleeves as he cries over the sudden rejection and wonders why he let the man this close.
He always knew that Natsume doesn’t love him as much as he loves his wife. For him, though, Natsume will always be the most precious human being in the entire world.
9. The heart was made to be broken
He’s a little bit stupid and a little bit naïve. He tries to deny it, because it’s not like he wants them to be his qualities. However, when Jin lets out his loud, shrill giggles and keeps teasingly jabbing his finger in the soft spots between his ribs and tells him how cute those things about him are, he doesn’t think it’s that bad after all.
When Jin suddenly confesses to him how utterly in love he is with the scrawny and awkward Kamenashi, he’s left wondering what went wrong.
10. You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
Kame is indulgent. He’s been declared “the eternal jeanist” by the media, and he’s got shitloads of money to act on every whim he gets that requires heavy spending. He purchases a kimono to a wedding and manages to unintentionally outshine the bride, he orders custom furniture all the way from Germany and he hoards all kinds of articles of clothing and jewellery for his precious kouhais, all just because he feels like it and he can.
Understandably, something like that is a glorious dream for many people. Fans drool, acquaintances keep checking him out and flirting with him and the producers and directors fight each other when trying to get him in their dramas. He’s valued, loved and appreciated by everyone. People think that with his looks and wealth, he’s got it all.
Jin doesn’t care about any of that. What he does care about are the private hours when Kame cooks gourmet food in his kitchen and sings, his voice chiming, enchanting and alluring. It’s nasal, imperfect, and his occasional English is accented and spoken thickly like he’s got a potato stuffed inside his mouth.
Jin harmonizes and Kame’s voice cracks when he breaks into toothy grin midline.
11. Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Humans are observant. They’re obsessed with the overwhelming need to know everything about other people’s lives. Paparazzi and fans stalk him, everybody judges him (possibly all around the world, too) and no matter what, he’s not allowed to openly live his life his way because he’s got it all and he cannot afford to lose it just because of the travesty the humankind have become.
Kissing a man is the biggest no. It’s worse than drugs, getting a sixteen year old teen pregnant or being a horrible diva. Being gay is just downright wrong for an idol of his nature - he’s the wet dream of nearly every woman of Japan so he just has to suck it up and pursue a healthy, heterosexual relationship that he preferably keeps hidden because hey, that’s how things work. Capiche?
Kitamura undresses him. His eyes are dark and he’s older, much older, but none of it matters. Kame moans, arches his back on the red sheets as Kitamura presses wet kisses over his skin, trailing down his neck and stomach.
He understands. They’re the same, whores of the entertainment industry. They know the cost of what they’re protecting; they know they can never get more than these occasional onetime chances with whoever is trustworthy enough. They don’t really know how to love, other than on screen.
Right now, it doesn’t matter either.