(no subject)
title: 002 drabbles
author: chartre
rating: pg to pg-13
pairing: koyashige, ryokei, ryotego, tegomasu, tegoshige, x/tegoshi
summary: infatuation ensues again for the same reason.
notes: fictional. one genderbender drabble because tegoshi is still a girl and the fandom is alive. \o/
just only one thing
ryotego
He comes home tired everyday. From work, from overtime, from the extensive paperwork he deals with in the office. Yuya sits him down by the kitchen table and prepares him some tea. Lavender, because the smell is soothing, and it makes him relax.
It’s two in the morning, and he is awakened by Ryo’s footsteps in the genkan. Yuya rushes down to greet him with a warm smile and an “okaeri,” but he knows his counterpart is too tired for even an effortless grin, but it’s there anyway: the biggest smile with pretty white teeth, tired eyes and lines on his face.
Ryo starts to rant about the day’s work wearily. He bangs on the table with the side of his fists when he talks about the workload and raises his voice once or twice in the hour he tells Yuya of his endeavors. Yuya only listens intently.
When Ryo is done, he rests back on the chair and drinks his tea. Yuya knows but still asks him if there is still anything else. Ryo looks down, shakes his head, and sighs deep and long. And then Yuya stands up and walks to Ryo’s side of the kitchen table, wraps his arms around his neck, kisses his forehead, and tells him “tomorrow will be a good day.”
And it’s that one thing that makes Ryo look forward to the next day.
the last summer
x/tegoshi
He constantly thinks of her, the only girl who looks pretty in their school uniform, the girl who often tugs on her hairclip in this certain way he likes because her hair never seems to fall right in place under the heat of the sun, the girl who tips her head delicately to her side and smiles at him when she seems him, just because she doesn’t know he’s been waiting to tell her.
He feels luck on his side. After years of growing up awkward in the sidelines, today he thinks better of himself. Today will be a good day, he tells himself, and walks towards her in the library.
He tells her he likes her. Fingers twitching, knees shaking, but she’s so pretty, just so pretty. “I like you, Yuya-kun.”
She turns to him-with a tilt of her head and a smile. He feels his heart plummeting. Yuya tugs on her clip again and this time her hair falls nicely in place. “Thank you,” she tells him softly and leans on one hip.
Suddenly, he starts to feel a little lonely already.
hero from my dream
ryokei
When Ryo wakes up, he feels strangely terrible.
Though when is he ever not? It’s rhetorical; Ryo could probably speak for himself: never.
He doesn’t feel sick in any way at all, but there was just something about today. He gets coffee in the morning and it spills all over him in mere seconds. The stain won’t leave his shirt and so naturally he gets a new one-the one Pi accidentally bleached pink from washing whites with reds. It’s only seven in the morning and Ryo already starts to feel Global Warming, and his insides are rotting.
“It isn’t that bad,” Koyama shrugs. “You look great in pink,” he adds later and it makes Ryo give him this look. Koyama bites his lip.
It’s a bright day and Ryo wonders how Koyama can even stand the heat (it’s probably about thirty-six degrees out under the sun) and stay cheerful and optimistic like he normally does-or even more, actually. That ridiculous grin seems to grow wider each day he sees him.
But then again.
“What do you want to do today?” Ryo asks him. Koyama smiles and it’s a big one, but Ryo knows it’s because of what Koyama sees on Ryo-and it’s not the pink shirt.
you are not here
tegomasu
Today, he is sick with a cold. A terrible cold; an incurable cold.
Tegoshi starts to miss him. The cool touch of his skin against his, the warm clasp of his hand, and soft whisper from his lips on his neck. He tries to laugh them off, all those horribly told jokes and pranks they’ve played on each other but the rain starts pouring and it tells him better.
Tegoshi remembers his words-“I promise,”-and wonders what had happened, why had these words turned into empty promises-but he tries not to believe in the retrospection of things. He wants to believe in other things. Good things. Better things.
“I miss you, Massu,” he sniffs over the bad reception and pretends that they can both hear each other clearly.
“Why did you call me? Are you okay? You sound terrible.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” Tegoshi sniffs again. “I miss you. I want to see you again.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Tegoshi sneezes. “Why not?”
“Because,” the reception starts to sound even worse, “I just can’t.”
Tegoshi cuts the connection after that and sneezes again. He falls terribly sick after a few days and doesn’t pay extra effort in getting well soon.
farewell
koyashige
There was a reason why telephones were so difficult to deal with, and yet they seemed so important to him, to Koyama because it was what he needed at the moment, his numb fingers curled into the receiver. He dialed a familiar phone number and waited, one ring, two, three-and then looked up at the darkness surrounding the single street light-four, and finally someone picked up.
“It’s me,” he said, and tears started to prick his eyes as he strained to look into the light. Stop the tears. “I’m sorry,” he said and Koyama looked down, put his hands over his face and cried silent tears.
He remembered a few things for a moment: at seventeen when they were crawling out of their cribs and into each other’s arms. They had a few of their firsts and it was, it was. Koyama wouldn’t forget, he would never forget.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and remembered loving him like he did before he realized no, this could never be mine. “I’m sorry.”
brave heart
tegoshige
Today should be a good day. Today is a good day. Shige looks at himself in the mirror and then sighs. “Today will not be a good day.”
Tegoshi enters the room, bag over his shoulder, sporting a pair of black frames, and behind them Shige sees brown-almost hazel-eyes that are beautiful in its own way, even more beautiful when his cheeks glow a rosy color and his lips a bright smiles. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Shige says nervously, clears his throat because he thinks Tegoshi doesn’t hear him well. He was never good with eloquence; Shige wished he was a bit like Koyama, charismatic. But, there was something else he needed. A little something he didn’t quite have. Maybe, just maybe.
“Are we starting soon?” Tegoshi looks into the mirror and pushes stray strands of hair away from his face. His soft, soft hair. “We should, shouldn’t we,” Shige shrugs. “Should we?”
“Let’s,” Tegoshi nods and starts vocalizing. There was probably a reason the agency put them in the same group, a very good reason.
There is still some time to spare, around five minutes. He probably only needs two for himself and the other three for reaction. Shige swallows hard and that should do it. Today is a good day, he convinces himself-although it’s not enough-today is the day. “Tegoshi.”
All he needs is a brave heart.
author: chartre
rating: pg to pg-13
pairing: koyashige, ryokei, ryotego, tegomasu, tegoshige, x/tegoshi
summary: infatuation ensues again for the same reason.
notes: fictional. one genderbender drabble because tegoshi is still a girl and the fandom is alive. \o/
just only one thing
ryotego
He comes home tired everyday. From work, from overtime, from the extensive paperwork he deals with in the office. Yuya sits him down by the kitchen table and prepares him some tea. Lavender, because the smell is soothing, and it makes him relax.
It’s two in the morning, and he is awakened by Ryo’s footsteps in the genkan. Yuya rushes down to greet him with a warm smile and an “okaeri,” but he knows his counterpart is too tired for even an effortless grin, but it’s there anyway: the biggest smile with pretty white teeth, tired eyes and lines on his face.
Ryo starts to rant about the day’s work wearily. He bangs on the table with the side of his fists when he talks about the workload and raises his voice once or twice in the hour he tells Yuya of his endeavors. Yuya only listens intently.
When Ryo is done, he rests back on the chair and drinks his tea. Yuya knows but still asks him if there is still anything else. Ryo looks down, shakes his head, and sighs deep and long. And then Yuya stands up and walks to Ryo’s side of the kitchen table, wraps his arms around his neck, kisses his forehead, and tells him “tomorrow will be a good day.”
And it’s that one thing that makes Ryo look forward to the next day.
the last summer
x/tegoshi
He constantly thinks of her, the only girl who looks pretty in their school uniform, the girl who often tugs on her hairclip in this certain way he likes because her hair never seems to fall right in place under the heat of the sun, the girl who tips her head delicately to her side and smiles at him when she seems him, just because she doesn’t know he’s been waiting to tell her.
He feels luck on his side. After years of growing up awkward in the sidelines, today he thinks better of himself. Today will be a good day, he tells himself, and walks towards her in the library.
He tells her he likes her. Fingers twitching, knees shaking, but she’s so pretty, just so pretty. “I like you, Yuya-kun.”
She turns to him-with a tilt of her head and a smile. He feels his heart plummeting. Yuya tugs on her clip again and this time her hair falls nicely in place. “Thank you,” she tells him softly and leans on one hip.
Suddenly, he starts to feel a little lonely already.
hero from my dream
ryokei
When Ryo wakes up, he feels strangely terrible.
Though when is he ever not? It’s rhetorical; Ryo could probably speak for himself: never.
He doesn’t feel sick in any way at all, but there was just something about today. He gets coffee in the morning and it spills all over him in mere seconds. The stain won’t leave his shirt and so naturally he gets a new one-the one Pi accidentally bleached pink from washing whites with reds. It’s only seven in the morning and Ryo already starts to feel Global Warming, and his insides are rotting.
“It isn’t that bad,” Koyama shrugs. “You look great in pink,” he adds later and it makes Ryo give him this look. Koyama bites his lip.
It’s a bright day and Ryo wonders how Koyama can even stand the heat (it’s probably about thirty-six degrees out under the sun) and stay cheerful and optimistic like he normally does-or even more, actually. That ridiculous grin seems to grow wider each day he sees him.
But then again.
“What do you want to do today?” Ryo asks him. Koyama smiles and it’s a big one, but Ryo knows it’s because of what Koyama sees on Ryo-and it’s not the pink shirt.
you are not here
tegomasu
Today, he is sick with a cold. A terrible cold; an incurable cold.
Tegoshi starts to miss him. The cool touch of his skin against his, the warm clasp of his hand, and soft whisper from his lips on his neck. He tries to laugh them off, all those horribly told jokes and pranks they’ve played on each other but the rain starts pouring and it tells him better.
Tegoshi remembers his words-“I promise,”-and wonders what had happened, why had these words turned into empty promises-but he tries not to believe in the retrospection of things. He wants to believe in other things. Good things. Better things.
“I miss you, Massu,” he sniffs over the bad reception and pretends that they can both hear each other clearly.
“Why did you call me? Are you okay? You sound terrible.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” Tegoshi sniffs again. “I miss you. I want to see you again.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Tegoshi sneezes. “Why not?”
“Because,” the reception starts to sound even worse, “I just can’t.”
Tegoshi cuts the connection after that and sneezes again. He falls terribly sick after a few days and doesn’t pay extra effort in getting well soon.
farewell
koyashige
There was a reason why telephones were so difficult to deal with, and yet they seemed so important to him, to Koyama because it was what he needed at the moment, his numb fingers curled into the receiver. He dialed a familiar phone number and waited, one ring, two, three-and then looked up at the darkness surrounding the single street light-four, and finally someone picked up.
“It’s me,” he said, and tears started to prick his eyes as he strained to look into the light. Stop the tears. “I’m sorry,” he said and Koyama looked down, put his hands over his face and cried silent tears.
He remembered a few things for a moment: at seventeen when they were crawling out of their cribs and into each other’s arms. They had a few of their firsts and it was, it was. Koyama wouldn’t forget, he would never forget.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and remembered loving him like he did before he realized no, this could never be mine. “I’m sorry.”
brave heart
tegoshige
Today should be a good day. Today is a good day. Shige looks at himself in the mirror and then sighs. “Today will not be a good day.”
Tegoshi enters the room, bag over his shoulder, sporting a pair of black frames, and behind them Shige sees brown-almost hazel-eyes that are beautiful in its own way, even more beautiful when his cheeks glow a rosy color and his lips a bright smiles. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Shige says nervously, clears his throat because he thinks Tegoshi doesn’t hear him well. He was never good with eloquence; Shige wished he was a bit like Koyama, charismatic. But, there was something else he needed. A little something he didn’t quite have. Maybe, just maybe.
“Are we starting soon?” Tegoshi looks into the mirror and pushes stray strands of hair away from his face. His soft, soft hair. “We should, shouldn’t we,” Shige shrugs. “Should we?”
“Let’s,” Tegoshi nods and starts vocalizing. There was probably a reason the agency put them in the same group, a very good reason.
There is still some time to spare, around five minutes. He probably only needs two for himself and the other three for reaction. Shige swallows hard and that should do it. Today is a good day, he convinces himself-although it’s not enough-today is the day. “Tegoshi.”
All he needs is a brave heart.