Fic: Dry Land (1/1) G
JE Fic
Title: Dry Land
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Kamenashi Kazuya
Warnings: None
Genre: RPS, fluff
Wordcount: 597
Note: This takes place in the " Available Light"-verse, between 2011 and 2014, on a remote Indonesian island. For acchikocchi. ♥
There are lines in the sky, lines that hover over the broad stroke of the horizon, over the wavy lines of rippling water that come ashore. You've been watching them sharpen and deepen for about an hour now, purple and orange, pink, blue. The dark, solid narrow shape that interrupted the sun climbing out of the water has now paled into a diaphanous melon-colored cloudship. You listen to the seagulls crying as they wheel and sail on fitful gusts of breeze, and you breathe in, deep, slow, calmer now.
Eventually you see his feet in the sand beside you. He sits down in a colorful sarong, bare-chested, with tousled dark hair. His eyes are soft.
"You left me," he says with a lopsided smile. His murmur is cozy with sleep. "'sup?"
You are still, afraid to move, frozen by an emotion you can't identify, and your mind has gone blank. You feel him shift closer, and your eyes flicker to his long legs outlined by the pink-and-orange cotton that swaths him from hip to calf. You stare at his feet, one heel of one foot nestled into the sand, toes waving slightly while the other foot burrows into the sand up to the ankle. His large hand lies heavily on your back, and you stiffen slightly from the intense warmth that radiates from his touch into your skin and flesh. When he begins to stroke you, his sure hand making soothing circles over your shoulder blades, down to your lower back, and back up again, you begin to relax incrementally. You breathe out shakily, lightheaded, and the crushing weight on your chest lessens. His hand comes to rest on your neck, fingers tangling in the long strands of hair and you bow your head beneath his warm weight.
"Better?" he asks, leaning into you. His breath tickles your ear.
You barely nod. You look down in surprise at your left hand, which is balled into a fist, and when you realize, you relax it immediately and try to look away. And yet it's hard to ignore the silvery marks that rope upward from your wrist to your shoulder, marks that have sunk into your bones and forcibly twisted your shape into something new. Possibly even unrecognizable.
"Kame," he says quietly. You look up, away from the gnarled wreckage, and into his eyes that shine golden-brown in the early morning light. Humidity presses into your skin. "Bad dream?"
You are silent for a moment, overwhelmed by rushing relief that floods the hollow cavity in your chest. It's cool and breathtaking: a saline solution that cleanses and heals and reminds you that it's really like this, and that it will always be like this.
You feel your mouth curve, just a little, and you breathe out.
"Yeah," you say. "Thanks. Better now." You turn your head to see him smiling at you.
"Good." He pushes his shoulders up to his ears before he stretches both arms above his head, elongating himself from his hips to his fingertips. You already miss his touch on your neck, but it's enough to admire his lean bare torso, and how he relaxes bonelessly back into the sand, heedless of sand in his hair.
"How about a swim?" he asks, cocking his head at you from his prone position.
"Sure," you answer, and you grab his hand to pull him up. The sarong falls off into a bright pool on the pale sand, but he's grinning, and doesn't seem to care. He responds in kind.
Naked and laughing you race Jin into the surf.
FIN
Notes: This ficlet was written 20 March 2008, and it's been kicking around my hard drive ever since. I'd hoped I could include it in a larger AL-verse fic I've been working on, but the POV here doesn't work with the larger story, so ultimately I've decided to let this stand on its own.
--
Fanfiction Index
contact: shontosgarden at gmail dot com
Title: Dry Land
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Kamenashi Kazuya
Warnings: None
Genre: RPS, fluff
Wordcount: 597
Note: This takes place in the " Available Light"-verse, between 2011 and 2014, on a remote Indonesian island. For acchikocchi. ♥
There are lines in the sky, lines that hover over the broad stroke of the horizon, over the wavy lines of rippling water that come ashore. You've been watching them sharpen and deepen for about an hour now, purple and orange, pink, blue. The dark, solid narrow shape that interrupted the sun climbing out of the water has now paled into a diaphanous melon-colored cloudship. You listen to the seagulls crying as they wheel and sail on fitful gusts of breeze, and you breathe in, deep, slow, calmer now.
Eventually you see his feet in the sand beside you. He sits down in a colorful sarong, bare-chested, with tousled dark hair. His eyes are soft.
"You left me," he says with a lopsided smile. His murmur is cozy with sleep. "'sup?"
You are still, afraid to move, frozen by an emotion you can't identify, and your mind has gone blank. You feel him shift closer, and your eyes flicker to his long legs outlined by the pink-and-orange cotton that swaths him from hip to calf. You stare at his feet, one heel of one foot nestled into the sand, toes waving slightly while the other foot burrows into the sand up to the ankle. His large hand lies heavily on your back, and you stiffen slightly from the intense warmth that radiates from his touch into your skin and flesh. When he begins to stroke you, his sure hand making soothing circles over your shoulder blades, down to your lower back, and back up again, you begin to relax incrementally. You breathe out shakily, lightheaded, and the crushing weight on your chest lessens. His hand comes to rest on your neck, fingers tangling in the long strands of hair and you bow your head beneath his warm weight.
"Better?" he asks, leaning into you. His breath tickles your ear.
You barely nod. You look down in surprise at your left hand, which is balled into a fist, and when you realize, you relax it immediately and try to look away. And yet it's hard to ignore the silvery marks that rope upward from your wrist to your shoulder, marks that have sunk into your bones and forcibly twisted your shape into something new. Possibly even unrecognizable.
"Kame," he says quietly. You look up, away from the gnarled wreckage, and into his eyes that shine golden-brown in the early morning light. Humidity presses into your skin. "Bad dream?"
You are silent for a moment, overwhelmed by rushing relief that floods the hollow cavity in your chest. It's cool and breathtaking: a saline solution that cleanses and heals and reminds you that it's really like this, and that it will always be like this.
You feel your mouth curve, just a little, and you breathe out.
"Yeah," you say. "Thanks. Better now." You turn your head to see him smiling at you.
"Good." He pushes his shoulders up to his ears before he stretches both arms above his head, elongating himself from his hips to his fingertips. You already miss his touch on your neck, but it's enough to admire his lean bare torso, and how he relaxes bonelessly back into the sand, heedless of sand in his hair.
"How about a swim?" he asks, cocking his head at you from his prone position.
"Sure," you answer, and you grab his hand to pull him up. The sarong falls off into a bright pool on the pale sand, but he's grinning, and doesn't seem to care. He responds in kind.
Naked and laughing you race Jin into the surf.
FIN
Notes: This ficlet was written 20 March 2008, and it's been kicking around my hard drive ever since. I'd hoped I could include it in a larger AL-verse fic I've been working on, but the POV here doesn't work with the larger story, so ultimately I've decided to let this stand on its own.
--
Fanfiction Index
contact: shontosgarden at gmail dot com