Eyeshield 21 Drabble (3-4)
Too lazy to do seperate entries for this... gonna do it like the Bleach ones from now on instead. XD
3.
Title: Sasuga Banchou!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: vaguely TogaxRui
Word Count: 614
Warning/s: Crack pairing, OOCness up the wazoo, but no spoilers I can imagine.
Summary: Rui brings something special back, Toga’s curious.
Dedication: shinigamikender- requested on my lj. ^^
A/N: The theme was “curiosity killed the cat” and Rui, but I added Toga ‘cuz I can’t help it. And yeah, still trying to figure out an Eyeshield voice, especially with these characters I haven’t really written lots of. Um, hard, but I guess I’ll find my way eventually. Hopefully. O.o
When Rui returns with something small bundled up gently in his jacket it prompts Toga to look up from his manga (a feat in itself) and ask, “Huh?” in such a manner that Rui knows he actually means, “The hell is that?”
“Nothin’,” he says in response, eyeing the other boy casually and moving to slip into the kitchen before any other pointless questions can be asked.
Except his jacket mews.
Toga blinks. “Huh?” he grunts, and Rui knows it means, “Cat?”
The linebacker sighs. “Cat,” he confirms, before moving into the kitchen anyway.
Toga stands, moves to follow Rui confusedly. “Thought you went to get drinks?” he asks, one hand carefully keeping his page marked in the latest volume of One Piece.
“Che. I did,” Rui mutters, setting the bundle down on his kitchen counter and wondering why he lets the lineman lounge around here as much as he does. He unwraps his jacket and then there’s a little calico face peeking up at them, looking scared and dirty and pathetic.
It mewls and Toga stares at it. “Huh.”
“Some bastard kids chasin’ after her on their bikes,” he explains nonchalantly.
Toga frowns. “You kick their asses?”
Rui doesn’t even deign to acknowledge such a stupid question with a real answer, moves to get a cloth and some soap and water instead. “Didn’t even get a scratch on me,” he chortles after a moment. “Damned brats better know who they’re goin’ against next time.” Pause. “Stop starin’ at the damned cat’n make yourself useful, Toga.”
Toga grunts at Rui’s tone and thinks he maybe should’ve ignored his own curiosity and stayed in the living room and kept reading.
The kitten mewls at him again and then he’s automatically padding over to the fridge after a second, digging through it for some leftover salmon he remembers seeing and milk he hopes hasn’t gone bad yet. You never know with Rui’s place.
He microwaves a dish of milk once he deems it won’t kill the stupid cat and sets out another one with some crushed salmon while Rui wipes her off.
Toga watches the other two inhabitants of the room absently. “So… you gonna keep her?” he asks after a minute or two.
Rui finishes cleaning her, tosses the dirty rag off to the side with his equally dirty jacket. “The hell would I do that for?”
Toga shrugs. “Kinda cute, I guess. And ain’t ya curious to see how she turns out when she gets big? You know, now that ya saved her.”
Rui eyes him. “I don’t care. You take her then.”
Toga blinks. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who brought her home on a whim. ‘Sides, this is your place.”
They watch her eat a little longer.
Toga reaches out and tentatively scratches her behind the ears. She mewls cutely and arches into his fingers.
Rui blinks. “Dammit, now I’m curious.”
Toga grins a little bit, keeps petting her with just his fingertips, because she’s too small for his whole hand just yet. “Yeah? Well…I guess maybe, we could both keep her, or somethin’.”
They look at each other.
After a minute, she very calmly pees on the counter. It stains the cover of Toganou’s One Piece manga, which he’d set down there when he’d gone to get her food.
They look at the puddle for a little bit.
And then Rui promptly picks her up and pushes her into Toga’s arms. “Er right, you get her first.”
Toga stares down at his handful of kitten, and she meows up at him.
He sighs to himself and looks at his ruined manga, thinking that he definitely should’ve stayed in the living room.
END
4.
Title: Fangirled
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: TakamixSakuraba
Word Count: 700
Warning/s: Erm, light spoilers for ep 38 of the anime and upwards? Sort of?
Summary: Takami and Sakuraba have… a lunch.
Dedication: _yumeiro- hope this is okay! Never wrote these two before. O.o
A/N: The request was TakamixSakuraba and the theme is “lunch.” Yup, still experimenting with this whole ES21 universe. Forgive me. ^^;;
Even with the new look Sakuraba is recognized by thousands of people-hardcore fangirls and the press mostly- and as such, the blonde receiver is constantly bombarded with presents or camera flashes, by questions and declarations of love wherever he goes.
Takami adjusts his glasses and smiles fondly when some press people catch wind of the two Oujou players having a quiet lunch together at a small outdoor café one Saturday afternoon, and before too long, the place is alight with clicking cameras and microphones.
“Sakuraba-kun, why the new look?”
“Sakuraba-kun, we heard you took a leave of absence from Jerry Productions, please elaborate!”
“Sakuraba-san, will you marry me?”
“Can I have your autograph?”
The blonde looks around sheepishly, trying to answer one question and then another right after without seeming rude, because even though he’s tried to step out of the spotlight, these people still follow him, still have an interest. It’s not something he wants to be cruel about.
But at the same time…he shares an apologetic look over the table with Takami as the press surrounds him in their efforts to try and figure out why, maybe, this up-and-coming young man had suddenly tried to drop off the face of the print and news media universe.
Takami sits quietly by and pulls his and Sakuraba’s plates out of the reach of the reporters, who would very casually elbow it aside given the chance to create more room. He stands after a moment, and the space he vacates is instantly swarmed with more fans, more press. Sakuraba looks at him helplessly from the sea of people, managing a weak, “Taka---urgh,” before another microphone is shoved into his face.
Takami very quietly moves inside the café holding the plates, and asks if the waiter wouldn’t mind very much, if they could make theirs a to-go order instead.
He stands outside afterwards, and bag in hand, watches as Sakuraba talks to his admirers, tries to cut it short before standing to leave. They follow of course, and while Takami would like nothing more than to go in and pull the blonde out of that mess, he knows how these things work, doesn’t want to injure or perturb the people who have the power to tarnish the reputation of a good person like Sakuraba.
Sakuraba is practiced enough at this anyway, and before too much longer, he manages to slide out from the group with as much graciousness as possible, and after a moment or two of calm-down he finally regains sight of Takami.
There’s an apology on the tip of Sakuraba’s tongue when he jogs up to his teammate, but the quarterback simply smiles and pushes the bag containing their boxed-lunches into the blonde’s hands.
“Taka… I um, sorry about…” he trails off, almost wanting to say “the date” before he realizes that it sounds too girly. “Sorry about lunch,” he says instead, guiltily.
Takami smiles and reaches out to ruffle the short-cropped blonde hair, eyeing the go-boxes clutched in Sakuraba’s arm like, well, like how one would clutch a football. “Lunch is still here. We can reheat it and eat at my house, ne?” he suggests.
Sakuraba, embarrassed, looks down at the lunches too. “Is that really okay?”
“Of course.” Takami calmly drapes an arm around the other player’s shoulders and begins guiding him in the direction of his home. “After all, maintaining proper nutrition on a consistent basis is very important for athletes like you and I, ne?”
Sakuraba frowns at the quarterback’s clinical analysis of everything. “Y-yeah, I guess.”
Takami notices his teammate’s tone, tries not to chuckle outright. Very gently, he squeezes the shoulder his hand is resting against. “And most importantly,” he starts after a moment, “is that we get to eat together. How or where doesn’t matter, ne?”
Sakuraba blinks at that, turns slowly to look at Takami. Swallows. “Y-yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Sakuraba smiles then, and wordlessly, they head back to Takami’s to sit at his couch and watch old NFL games, eating microwaved café lunches out of take-out boxes together and enjoying every minute of it.
It’s the best lunch ("date" is still too girly) Sakuraba can remember having in a long time.
END
3.
Title: Sasuga Banchou!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: vaguely TogaxRui
Word Count: 614
Warning/s: Crack pairing, OOCness up the wazoo, but no spoilers I can imagine.
Summary: Rui brings something special back, Toga’s curious.
Dedication: shinigamikender- requested on my lj. ^^
A/N: The theme was “curiosity killed the cat” and Rui, but I added Toga ‘cuz I can’t help it. And yeah, still trying to figure out an Eyeshield voice, especially with these characters I haven’t really written lots of. Um, hard, but I guess I’ll find my way eventually. Hopefully. O.o
When Rui returns with something small bundled up gently in his jacket it prompts Toga to look up from his manga (a feat in itself) and ask, “Huh?” in such a manner that Rui knows he actually means, “The hell is that?”
“Nothin’,” he says in response, eyeing the other boy casually and moving to slip into the kitchen before any other pointless questions can be asked.
Except his jacket mews.
Toga blinks. “Huh?” he grunts, and Rui knows it means, “Cat?”
The linebacker sighs. “Cat,” he confirms, before moving into the kitchen anyway.
Toga stands, moves to follow Rui confusedly. “Thought you went to get drinks?” he asks, one hand carefully keeping his page marked in the latest volume of One Piece.
“Che. I did,” Rui mutters, setting the bundle down on his kitchen counter and wondering why he lets the lineman lounge around here as much as he does. He unwraps his jacket and then there’s a little calico face peeking up at them, looking scared and dirty and pathetic.
It mewls and Toga stares at it. “Huh.”
“Some bastard kids chasin’ after her on their bikes,” he explains nonchalantly.
Toga frowns. “You kick their asses?”
Rui doesn’t even deign to acknowledge such a stupid question with a real answer, moves to get a cloth and some soap and water instead. “Didn’t even get a scratch on me,” he chortles after a moment. “Damned brats better know who they’re goin’ against next time.” Pause. “Stop starin’ at the damned cat’n make yourself useful, Toga.”
Toga grunts at Rui’s tone and thinks he maybe should’ve ignored his own curiosity and stayed in the living room and kept reading.
The kitten mewls at him again and then he’s automatically padding over to the fridge after a second, digging through it for some leftover salmon he remembers seeing and milk he hopes hasn’t gone bad yet. You never know with Rui’s place.
He microwaves a dish of milk once he deems it won’t kill the stupid cat and sets out another one with some crushed salmon while Rui wipes her off.
Toga watches the other two inhabitants of the room absently. “So… you gonna keep her?” he asks after a minute or two.
Rui finishes cleaning her, tosses the dirty rag off to the side with his equally dirty jacket. “The hell would I do that for?”
Toga shrugs. “Kinda cute, I guess. And ain’t ya curious to see how she turns out when she gets big? You know, now that ya saved her.”
Rui eyes him. “I don’t care. You take her then.”
Toga blinks. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who brought her home on a whim. ‘Sides, this is your place.”
They watch her eat a little longer.
Toga reaches out and tentatively scratches her behind the ears. She mewls cutely and arches into his fingers.
Rui blinks. “Dammit, now I’m curious.”
Toga grins a little bit, keeps petting her with just his fingertips, because she’s too small for his whole hand just yet. “Yeah? Well…I guess maybe, we could both keep her, or somethin’.”
They look at each other.
After a minute, she very calmly pees on the counter. It stains the cover of Toganou’s One Piece manga, which he’d set down there when he’d gone to get her food.
They look at the puddle for a little bit.
And then Rui promptly picks her up and pushes her into Toga’s arms. “Er right, you get her first.”
Toga stares down at his handful of kitten, and she meows up at him.
He sighs to himself and looks at his ruined manga, thinking that he definitely should’ve stayed in the living room.
END
4.
Title: Fangirled
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: TakamixSakuraba
Word Count: 700
Warning/s: Erm, light spoilers for ep 38 of the anime and upwards? Sort of?
Summary: Takami and Sakuraba have… a lunch.
Dedication: _yumeiro- hope this is okay! Never wrote these two before. O.o
A/N: The request was TakamixSakuraba and the theme is “lunch.” Yup, still experimenting with this whole ES21 universe. Forgive me. ^^;;
Even with the new look Sakuraba is recognized by thousands of people-hardcore fangirls and the press mostly- and as such, the blonde receiver is constantly bombarded with presents or camera flashes, by questions and declarations of love wherever he goes.
Takami adjusts his glasses and smiles fondly when some press people catch wind of the two Oujou players having a quiet lunch together at a small outdoor café one Saturday afternoon, and before too long, the place is alight with clicking cameras and microphones.
“Sakuraba-kun, why the new look?”
“Sakuraba-kun, we heard you took a leave of absence from Jerry Productions, please elaborate!”
“Sakuraba-san, will you marry me?”
“Can I have your autograph?”
The blonde looks around sheepishly, trying to answer one question and then another right after without seeming rude, because even though he’s tried to step out of the spotlight, these people still follow him, still have an interest. It’s not something he wants to be cruel about.
But at the same time…he shares an apologetic look over the table with Takami as the press surrounds him in their efforts to try and figure out why, maybe, this up-and-coming young man had suddenly tried to drop off the face of the print and news media universe.
Takami sits quietly by and pulls his and Sakuraba’s plates out of the reach of the reporters, who would very casually elbow it aside given the chance to create more room. He stands after a moment, and the space he vacates is instantly swarmed with more fans, more press. Sakuraba looks at him helplessly from the sea of people, managing a weak, “Taka---urgh,” before another microphone is shoved into his face.
Takami very quietly moves inside the café holding the plates, and asks if the waiter wouldn’t mind very much, if they could make theirs a to-go order instead.
He stands outside afterwards, and bag in hand, watches as Sakuraba talks to his admirers, tries to cut it short before standing to leave. They follow of course, and while Takami would like nothing more than to go in and pull the blonde out of that mess, he knows how these things work, doesn’t want to injure or perturb the people who have the power to tarnish the reputation of a good person like Sakuraba.
Sakuraba is practiced enough at this anyway, and before too much longer, he manages to slide out from the group with as much graciousness as possible, and after a moment or two of calm-down he finally regains sight of Takami.
There’s an apology on the tip of Sakuraba’s tongue when he jogs up to his teammate, but the quarterback simply smiles and pushes the bag containing their boxed-lunches into the blonde’s hands.
“Taka… I um, sorry about…” he trails off, almost wanting to say “the date” before he realizes that it sounds too girly. “Sorry about lunch,” he says instead, guiltily.
Takami smiles and reaches out to ruffle the short-cropped blonde hair, eyeing the go-boxes clutched in Sakuraba’s arm like, well, like how one would clutch a football. “Lunch is still here. We can reheat it and eat at my house, ne?” he suggests.
Sakuraba, embarrassed, looks down at the lunches too. “Is that really okay?”
“Of course.” Takami calmly drapes an arm around the other player’s shoulders and begins guiding him in the direction of his home. “After all, maintaining proper nutrition on a consistent basis is very important for athletes like you and I, ne?”
Sakuraba frowns at the quarterback’s clinical analysis of everything. “Y-yeah, I guess.”
Takami notices his teammate’s tone, tries not to chuckle outright. Very gently, he squeezes the shoulder his hand is resting against. “And most importantly,” he starts after a moment, “is that we get to eat together. How or where doesn’t matter, ne?”
Sakuraba blinks at that, turns slowly to look at Takami. Swallows. “Y-yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Sakuraba smiles then, and wordlessly, they head back to Takami’s to sit at his couch and watch old NFL games, eating microwaved café lunches out of take-out boxes together and enjoying every minute of it.
It’s the best lunch ("date" is still too girly) Sakuraba can remember having in a long time.
END