[Fanfic] Catchers, Takagi/Mashiro (Bakuman)
K, so this is actually like the most unslashiest slash ever but WHATEVER.
Title: Catchers
Author:Moi.
Rating: G.
Pairing: Takagi/Masahiro if you squint.
Disclaimer: If Bakuman belonged to me, nothing would still happen because I write unslashy slash. :(
Author's notes: Pre-slash..ish.
Word Count: 687 words
"Damn. The rain’s coming down real hard."
The wind chimes tinkled lightly as the doors closed behind them.
"At least we found shelter before it started to pour," Mashiro murmured in response. He stepped quickly away as Takagi began shaking his hair to dry it. A few courageous droplets claimed victory on the sleeve of Mashiro's uniform.
"Easy for you to say." Takagi grumbled, running a hand through the soaked mass that lay atop his head. With his usually untamed blonde locks now hanging in a curtain around his face, he actually looked a lot like a drowned dog. Mashiro didn’t bother to conceal the smirk which spread across his face. He could only imagine the lengths Takagi took to maintaining his blond crown.
When he finally deemed himself dry enough - or perhaps when his relentless curiousity finally won over - Takagi took a cursory look around the store. The sight that greeted him was one all too familiar - shelves and shelves of manga. Mashiro gave him a look. Takagi returned it. I know, right?
After coming back from a meeting with their editor from Shueisha, it seemed only appropriate that the store they found themselves taking shelter in should be a manga bookstore.
Mashiro trailed his fingers lightly over the spines as he walked by - mouthing the titles with a memory to go with each one. Saint Seiya, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Ashita no Joe, Fist of the North Star - they all flashed through his mind, a good number of the memories framed by his uncle's (now his and Shujin's) apartment.
He briefly broke out of his reverie to look around for Takagi. Mashiro expected him not to have strayed too far from the shounen section but instead found the other boy in the shoujo aisle. Mashiro’s face screwed up in confusion for a moment before he realized - Oh yeah. It's Shujin. He closed the volume of Yuu Yuu Hakusho he’d been clutching and resigned himself to joining Takagi.
Takagi was seated cross-legged on the floor, immersed in some tall manga he was reading. A fortress of colourful volumes was slowly building around him.
"Hey." Mashiro called out.
No response. Takagi seemed too absorbed in the manga he was reading to notice Mashiro until the boy nudged his shoulder. He glanced up, appearing to only just notice Mashiro's presence.
"Oh, sorry. I was reading," he apologized, using his free hand to adjust his glasses.
"It's fine, I was just-" Mashiro cut off abruptly. His stare locked on the cover of the book Takagi was holding.
"What... Why... are you... reading that?" He spluttered.
"What, this?" Takagi lifted the book up, revealing a cover with two boys staring vacantly at them.
Mashiro nodded weakly.
"Well, the idea about rings is kind of clever, actually. And I don't know about you, but Kannagi-sensei seems like a pretty good writer."
Feeling his strength return, Mashiro pressed on. "But why?"
A pause.
"Research." Takagi replied, turning his attention back to the book.
"But Shounen mangaka don't need to know about that kind of stuff!" Mashiro burst out in disbelief, only realizing belatedly that they were in a bookstore.
Takagi sighed and closed the book.
"Think about it, Saiko. It's useful for a mangaka to know about all kinds of manga whether they work in that genre or not. I mean, even Kishimoto had a scene or two like this in Naruto." He explained, pointing out a particularly explicit scene in one of the other books.
Mashiro looked away as quickly as though he were burned (which his eyes were, actually).
"What I don't get," Takagi continued, unaware of Mashiro's plight, "is why Soubi doesn't just tell Ritsuka Seimei's still alive. It'd save him a hell of a lot less trouble if he did. You know what I mean, Saiko?"
"I'm leaving." Mashiro picked up his bag he'd left near the shounen section.
"Wait Saiko! I have a question!" Takagi called out as Mashiro made his way to the door.
"What." He paused, ready to let the books clutched at his waist fly.
"What's an uke?"
Smack.
-----------------------------------------
Bakuman is surprisingly easy to write. I don't mean easy as in I do it well but more that it's easier for me to write than say D18 in which I agonize for days over my inability to write it.
Also: have some badly written slash for Bakuman:
----------------------------------------
Casting a weary glance around the apartment, Saiko sighed.
"We'll never get any work done at this rate." He muttered as he picked up a crumpled page from the manuscript.
"We'll do it later." responded Takagi as he lay obscenely on a makeshift bed of last week's manuscript, ripped and stained in various places from their love-making.
Saiko's narrowed eyes squinted impossibly further, apparently glaring at the back of Takagi's head.
"Hey." Began Saiko.
"What." Automatically responded Takagi.
"Let's stop doing this."
"What?" He repeated.
"This..." Saiko gestured around the apartment. The blanket around his shoulders slid down to reveal the abused state they were in, love bites blossomed near his collar bone, as if to emphasize his point.
Takagi was barely fazed.
"I don't see why." He recited, the sound mechanical. His hand felt distractedly around the bed, searching for the familiar plastic surface of his headphones.
"It gets in the way of our work." Saiko responded halfheartedly, the line worn from use.
" The manuscript is done already." Automatic response.
"....There's Azuki." Saiko mumbled faintly.
"Right. and you're going to get married."
"Exactly... and this... " Saiko gestured again uselessly, vaguely, at his point.
"..is not serious." Takagi finished for him.
"....Right." He parroted his words, a tinge of some unspoken emotion there.
"Ahah!" Takagi sat up abruptly, now clutching the much-longed for headphones. He beamed at Saiko. "Now that our problem's solved. Let's celebrate!"
He overtook Saiko with his body size, signaling the end of their pseudo-stage act.
"Wh-wait!" Whatever words Saiko had meant to say were soon forgotten in the following onslaught of tongue flirting with his.
Whatever problems and issues there were were hidden away again as they repeated the same scene they had practiced for 365 days of the year.
The sketches for the colour page of the weekly chapter lay abandoned under a pile of clothing.
Title: Catchers
Author:Moi.
Rating: G.
Pairing: Takagi/Masahiro if you squint.
Disclaimer: If Bakuman belonged to me, nothing would still happen because I write unslashy slash. :(
Author's notes: Pre-slash..ish.
Word Count: 687 words
"Damn. The rain’s coming down real hard."
The wind chimes tinkled lightly as the doors closed behind them.
"At least we found shelter before it started to pour," Mashiro murmured in response. He stepped quickly away as Takagi began shaking his hair to dry it. A few courageous droplets claimed victory on the sleeve of Mashiro's uniform.
"Easy for you to say." Takagi grumbled, running a hand through the soaked mass that lay atop his head. With his usually untamed blonde locks now hanging in a curtain around his face, he actually looked a lot like a drowned dog. Mashiro didn’t bother to conceal the smirk which spread across his face. He could only imagine the lengths Takagi took to maintaining his blond crown.
When he finally deemed himself dry enough - or perhaps when his relentless curiousity finally won over - Takagi took a cursory look around the store. The sight that greeted him was one all too familiar - shelves and shelves of manga. Mashiro gave him a look. Takagi returned it. I know, right?
After coming back from a meeting with their editor from Shueisha, it seemed only appropriate that the store they found themselves taking shelter in should be a manga bookstore.
Mashiro trailed his fingers lightly over the spines as he walked by - mouthing the titles with a memory to go with each one. Saint Seiya, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Ashita no Joe, Fist of the North Star - they all flashed through his mind, a good number of the memories framed by his uncle's (now his and Shujin's) apartment.
He briefly broke out of his reverie to look around for Takagi. Mashiro expected him not to have strayed too far from the shounen section but instead found the other boy in the shoujo aisle. Mashiro’s face screwed up in confusion for a moment before he realized - Oh yeah. It's Shujin. He closed the volume of Yuu Yuu Hakusho he’d been clutching and resigned himself to joining Takagi.
Takagi was seated cross-legged on the floor, immersed in some tall manga he was reading. A fortress of colourful volumes was slowly building around him.
"Hey." Mashiro called out.
No response. Takagi seemed too absorbed in the manga he was reading to notice Mashiro until the boy nudged his shoulder. He glanced up, appearing to only just notice Mashiro's presence.
"Oh, sorry. I was reading," he apologized, using his free hand to adjust his glasses.
"It's fine, I was just-" Mashiro cut off abruptly. His stare locked on the cover of the book Takagi was holding.
"What... Why... are you... reading that?" He spluttered.
"What, this?" Takagi lifted the book up, revealing a cover with two boys staring vacantly at them.
Mashiro nodded weakly.
"Well, the idea about rings is kind of clever, actually. And I don't know about you, but Kannagi-sensei seems like a pretty good writer."
Feeling his strength return, Mashiro pressed on. "But why?"
A pause.
"Research." Takagi replied, turning his attention back to the book.
"But Shounen mangaka don't need to know about that kind of stuff!" Mashiro burst out in disbelief, only realizing belatedly that they were in a bookstore.
Takagi sighed and closed the book.
"Think about it, Saiko. It's useful for a mangaka to know about all kinds of manga whether they work in that genre or not. I mean, even Kishimoto had a scene or two like this in Naruto." He explained, pointing out a particularly explicit scene in one of the other books.
Mashiro looked away as quickly as though he were burned (which his eyes were, actually).
"What I don't get," Takagi continued, unaware of Mashiro's plight, "is why Soubi doesn't just tell Ritsuka Seimei's still alive. It'd save him a hell of a lot less trouble if he did. You know what I mean, Saiko?"
"I'm leaving." Mashiro picked up his bag he'd left near the shounen section.
"Wait Saiko! I have a question!" Takagi called out as Mashiro made his way to the door.
"What." He paused, ready to let the books clutched at his waist fly.
"What's an uke?"
Smack.
-----------------------------------------
Bakuman is surprisingly easy to write. I don't mean easy as in I do it well but more that it's easier for me to write than say D18 in which I agonize for days over my inability to write it.
Also: have some badly written slash for Bakuman:
----------------------------------------
Casting a weary glance around the apartment, Saiko sighed.
"We'll never get any work done at this rate." He muttered as he picked up a crumpled page from the manuscript.
"We'll do it later." responded Takagi as he lay obscenely on a makeshift bed of last week's manuscript, ripped and stained in various places from their love-making.
Saiko's narrowed eyes squinted impossibly further, apparently glaring at the back of Takagi's head.
"Hey." Began Saiko.
"What." Automatically responded Takagi.
"Let's stop doing this."
"What?" He repeated.
"This..." Saiko gestured around the apartment. The blanket around his shoulders slid down to reveal the abused state they were in, love bites blossomed near his collar bone, as if to emphasize his point.
Takagi was barely fazed.
"I don't see why." He recited, the sound mechanical. His hand felt distractedly around the bed, searching for the familiar plastic surface of his headphones.
"It gets in the way of our work." Saiko responded halfheartedly, the line worn from use.
" The manuscript is done already." Automatic response.
"....There's Azuki." Saiko mumbled faintly.
"Right. and you're going to get married."
"Exactly... and this... " Saiko gestured again uselessly, vaguely, at his point.
"..is not serious." Takagi finished for him.
"....Right." He parroted his words, a tinge of some unspoken emotion there.
"Ahah!" Takagi sat up abruptly, now clutching the much-longed for headphones. He beamed at Saiko. "Now that our problem's solved. Let's celebrate!"
He overtook Saiko with his body size, signaling the end of their pseudo-stage act.
"Wh-wait!" Whatever words Saiko had meant to say were soon forgotten in the following onslaught of tongue flirting with his.
Whatever problems and issues there were were hidden away again as they repeated the same scene they had practiced for 365 days of the year.
The sketches for the colour page of the weekly chapter lay abandoned under a pile of clothing.