Drabble-age (499 words, YanaKirir + Puberty)
Title: [Untitled YanaKiri Puberty Drabble]
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 499
Rating: PGish
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Er...Kirihara is definitely going through some changes right now ;)
Puberty was a beautiful thing.
For some people, anyway.
Sure, it brought sweaty palms, painful growth spurts, awkwardness with girls or the public in general, wet dreams, BO, shaving, a lack of coordination, embarrassing voice cracking, and a host of other things, but Renji entirely forgot his own experiences that August when it happened to other people. Other people who made it seem like a very nice thing to look at.
Genichirou droned on. About all Renji could make out was the occasional “blah blah blah volley blah blah rotation” because Akaya had shown up to practice.
His face was pinched, he was scowling. His legs were as long as ever and his arms maybe a bit gangly, but Renji couldn’t not stare at that lanky new body of Akaya’s. At his toned arms from the increased weight-training Yukimura insisted on. At his slim hips, the bones jutting out against his low-slung shorts, showing off the waistband of his boxers underneath.
Renji’s heartbeat was far too fast to be healthy.
And he was sweating too much, too. As if he’d just played a match against Sadaharu, not have been standing beside the bench for ten minutes half-listening to Genichirou’s complaining.
“Renji?” he snapped. “Are you listening to me?”
Renji blinked, dragging his eyes off Akaya’s new body. Akaya had stomped over to a group of freshman, yelling at them to pick up his balls and get out of his way so he could practice with the machines. It was heartwarming, in way. Or mostly warming Renji’s pants, listening to that new depth to Akaya’s voice.
“Of course,” he muttered. “I should think you’d be fine with an additional 5 kilograms for the bench-press.” For show, Renji looked down at his clipboard and pretended to scribble something that was not the entwined kanjis of Yanagi and Kirihara.
Genichirou folded his arms, glaring from underneath his dark hat. “I was asking you about English homework. Stop staring at Akaya’s ass.”
Renji’s face was on fire. He cleared his throat in an attempt to be dignified, but that was rendered completely null and void when he happened to look up across the courts to see Akaya throwing himself into smashes against the ball machine. His t-shirt fluttered up, showing off that smooth, pale stomach…his abs just beginning to form into an adult-sort of definition. They were probably warm to the touch. Akaya might laugh, a breathy sort of sound, if Renji were to run his fingers over…
“Renji!” Genichirou snapped.
Renji bowed his head slightly. The weather felt even muggier this afternoon, laden thick with the damp summer heat to come. “Shall I give myself ten laps, then?” he asked.
“Twenty,” Genichirou grumbled.
As Renji started to sprint around the courts- maybe probably intentionally cutting a path that ran right past Akaya- he could hear Yukimura walk up to Genichirou and say, “Our Akaya is growing up nicely, isn’t he?”
Whatever Genichirou’s grunted answer was, Renji knew that he himself agreed completely.
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 499
Rating: PGish
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Er...Kirihara is definitely going through some changes right now ;)
Puberty was a beautiful thing.
For some people, anyway.
Sure, it brought sweaty palms, painful growth spurts, awkwardness with girls or the public in general, wet dreams, BO, shaving, a lack of coordination, embarrassing voice cracking, and a host of other things, but Renji entirely forgot his own experiences that August when it happened to other people. Other people who made it seem like a very nice thing to look at.
Genichirou droned on. About all Renji could make out was the occasional “blah blah blah volley blah blah rotation” because Akaya had shown up to practice.
His face was pinched, he was scowling. His legs were as long as ever and his arms maybe a bit gangly, but Renji couldn’t not stare at that lanky new body of Akaya’s. At his toned arms from the increased weight-training Yukimura insisted on. At his slim hips, the bones jutting out against his low-slung shorts, showing off the waistband of his boxers underneath.
Renji’s heartbeat was far too fast to be healthy.
And he was sweating too much, too. As if he’d just played a match against Sadaharu, not have been standing beside the bench for ten minutes half-listening to Genichirou’s complaining.
“Renji?” he snapped. “Are you listening to me?”
Renji blinked, dragging his eyes off Akaya’s new body. Akaya had stomped over to a group of freshman, yelling at them to pick up his balls and get out of his way so he could practice with the machines. It was heartwarming, in way. Or mostly warming Renji’s pants, listening to that new depth to Akaya’s voice.
“Of course,” he muttered. “I should think you’d be fine with an additional 5 kilograms for the bench-press.” For show, Renji looked down at his clipboard and pretended to scribble something that was not the entwined kanjis of Yanagi and Kirihara.
Genichirou folded his arms, glaring from underneath his dark hat. “I was asking you about English homework. Stop staring at Akaya’s ass.”
Renji’s face was on fire. He cleared his throat in an attempt to be dignified, but that was rendered completely null and void when he happened to look up across the courts to see Akaya throwing himself into smashes against the ball machine. His t-shirt fluttered up, showing off that smooth, pale stomach…his abs just beginning to form into an adult-sort of definition. They were probably warm to the touch. Akaya might laugh, a breathy sort of sound, if Renji were to run his fingers over…
“Renji!” Genichirou snapped.
Renji bowed his head slightly. The weather felt even muggier this afternoon, laden thick with the damp summer heat to come. “Shall I give myself ten laps, then?” he asked.
“Twenty,” Genichirou grumbled.
As Renji started to sprint around the courts- maybe probably intentionally cutting a path that ran right past Akaya- he could hear Yukimura walk up to Genichirou and say, “Our Akaya is growing up nicely, isn’t he?”
Whatever Genichirou’s grunted answer was, Renji knew that he himself agreed completely.