ficlet; wuzun/arron
Title you have to read between the lines.
Rating pg-13
Pairing Wuzun/Arron (of Fahrenheit)
Summary "Yan YaLun, you're really my style." Names are unimportant.
I thought that people didn't say things like that anymore: "Yan YaLun, you're really my style." But he said it, and I was hooked. Maybe he didn't mean anything, really, by it. Maybe, in Brunei, people said that all the time, referring only to friendship.
I doubted it.
-
I did something to my knee--tore it, or twisted it, or something--during one of our dance practices. He asked me if I was okay, and can you move your leg? Jiro, go call for help. Calvin, maybe you could look for some ice?
And he knelt next to me and held my hand while the nerves along my lower legs tingled, then burst, then numbed, in pain. "You're too clumsy," he said with a smile. I cursed at him.
-
The van breaks down on the way to the studio to record Wan Quan Yu Le. Jiro and Calvin run to make it to the set on time. I have crutches and a bad knee.
"Get on my back," he says.
I try not to look too deep. He was just making sure that we would arrive at the studio on time.
That he helped me change in the dressing room is an entirely different matter.
-
It's the middle of summer; the air conditioner has broken in one of our rooms in the apartment. Four men to a room at night because it's too hot in the other. Because we like each other's company, anyway.
I wake up at four in the morning to find that Brunei is touching my knee.
I'll be honest. It was a little creepy.
"What are you doing?" I whisper. Jiro shifts in his sleep on one of the two beds (Calvin and I are allowed the floor between the beds), and Calvin mumbles something, but neither awaken.
"I'm checking your knee," he says nonchalantly. His hand shifts.
"That's not my knee." My voice grates a bit; I don't think that I've fully awakened.
"I know."
end
[A/N] Don't kill me. >.> I have written anything in ages and this is hella rusty and gross. And also it's past midnight, here, and I need to sleep because I have to wake up tomorrow. ;o; gah, life.
Anyway. If you aren't familiar with Fahrenheit, just ask me. I'll tell you.
quix.
Rating pg-13
Pairing Wuzun/Arron (of Fahrenheit)
Summary "Yan YaLun, you're really my style." Names are unimportant.
I thought that people didn't say things like that anymore: "Yan YaLun, you're really my style." But he said it, and I was hooked. Maybe he didn't mean anything, really, by it. Maybe, in Brunei, people said that all the time, referring only to friendship.
I doubted it.
-
I did something to my knee--tore it, or twisted it, or something--during one of our dance practices. He asked me if I was okay, and can you move your leg? Jiro, go call for help. Calvin, maybe you could look for some ice?
And he knelt next to me and held my hand while the nerves along my lower legs tingled, then burst, then numbed, in pain. "You're too clumsy," he said with a smile. I cursed at him.
-
The van breaks down on the way to the studio to record Wan Quan Yu Le. Jiro and Calvin run to make it to the set on time. I have crutches and a bad knee.
"Get on my back," he says.
I try not to look too deep. He was just making sure that we would arrive at the studio on time.
That he helped me change in the dressing room is an entirely different matter.
-
It's the middle of summer; the air conditioner has broken in one of our rooms in the apartment. Four men to a room at night because it's too hot in the other. Because we like each other's company, anyway.
I wake up at four in the morning to find that Brunei is touching my knee.
I'll be honest. It was a little creepy.
"What are you doing?" I whisper. Jiro shifts in his sleep on one of the two beds (Calvin and I are allowed the floor between the beds), and Calvin mumbles something, but neither awaken.
"I'm checking your knee," he says nonchalantly. His hand shifts.
"That's not my knee." My voice grates a bit; I don't think that I've fully awakened.
"I know."
end
[A/N] Don't kill me. >.> I have written anything in ages and this is hella rusty and gross. And also it's past midnight, here, and I need to sleep because I have to wake up tomorrow. ;o; gah, life.
Anyway. If you aren't familiar with Fahrenheit, just ask me. I'll tell you.
quix.