The Trouble With Boys (Sakuma - Iwamoto, PG)
Title: The Trouble With Boys
Pairing: Sakuma, Iwamoto (not Sakuma/Iwamoto)
Rating/Warnings: PG
AN: Written for the je100 Halloween Trick or Treat drabble thing. For kiayro, who wanted Sakuma and Iwamoto.
The Trouble With Boys
"So how are things with the boy?" Iwamoto asks. She's curled up on the floor of Sakuma's room, watching as her friend slowly transforms her fingernails into works of art.
"Good," Sakuma chirps. She's concentrating, forehead pinched as she draws a curling stripe of pink across one nail's surface. Good, by which she means she's working on it. She's got her methods and knows how to use her skills. This time, it means volunteering to do Senga-sempai's nails for her, which means when Sakuma shows up to watch Butoukan practice, it's clearly because she and Senga are friends. It has nothing to do with Yamamoto-kun at all. Of course.
Iwamoto laughs. "Good?"
"Don't do that!" Sakuma scolds. "You'll make me mess up!" She yanks Iwamoto closer so that she can pin her arm between her elbow and knee, grabbing her hand to keep her from moving.
"Sorry, sorry." Iwamoto chuckles again, but Sakuma settles for glaring, since she can't do much more. But then she thinks about The Boy and gets distracted from her annoyance.
"Ahh... he's so sweet~," she says, thinking of how he spread out his sweatshirt on a bench so she could sit and watch without getting her clothes dirty.
"Of course he is."
"He is," Sakuma insists. "You just don't-"
"I know, I know," Iwamoto interrupts. "I believe you. I have met him, you know."
Sakuma knows. She also knows she should maybe be grateful that Iwamoto introduced them, but she's too proud to say it.
"Hmm. Right." She draws another pink stripe.
"I'm throwing a party," Iwamoto says, stretching her legs out in front of her and keeping her hands well away from anything as instructed.
"Eh? When?" Sakuma asks.
Iwamoto makes it pretty clear that she's just come up with the idea on the spot, because she tilts her head and is obviously envisioning her planner in her head. "In two weeks. Saturday. Karaoke after the jam."
"Oh, okay! Sounds fun!"
"You can't come unless you bring Yamamoto-kun with you."
Sakuma flails. "What?! But... but I can't! How?!"
Iwamoto just smiles at her.
"Hikaruuuuuu, that's not fair!"
"It's totally fair. Someone needs to get you moving, so there you go. Incentive."
Iwamoto's parties are always fun. Damn.
"Sen-chan~," Sakuma sings, handing Senga her water bottle after a grueling dance practice. Her sempai downs half of it in two gulps and pours another bit into her hand to splash on her face.
"Hmm?"
Sakuma is all-too-aware of Yamamoto standing just behind her. "Hikaru is having a party next weekend," she starts, and then, "oh, of course you can come, by the way. It's after our jam, if you can come watch?" She smiles invitingly, playing up her cute kouhai act.
"Ah, yeah," Senga says. "I heard about that." She swipes her face with her towel. "I'm still not sure about my work schedule, but I was going to try to go."
"Yay!" Sakuma cheers. "But you know." She drops her voice lower, but not low enough that Yamamoto can't hear. "You need a date for the party."
"Well, that shouldn't be too much of a problem," Senga points out.
"Maybe for you," Sakuma wails, because Nikaido-sempai is easy like that, and then switches on a full-out pout. "Who am I supposed to bring?!"
"I can go," Tsukada offers, helpful as always, and he's only saved from Sakuma's icicle glare when Yara drags him off with a knowing smirk.
"Ahh," Sakuma sighs, loudly. When Yamamoto says nothing, she gives Senga a pleading look. A little help, please? Screw being subtle.
Senga thankfully catches on pretty quick for once. "Ryo-chan," she says, and Yamamoto looks up from where he's shoving a towel back into his bag.
"Hmm?"
"You're free next weekend, aren't you?" Senga's voice makes it more of a statement than a question.
Yamamoto looks caught. "Ah... yeah..."
"Great," Senga says, and claps her hands. "Problem solved."
Senga-sempai is the best ever.
It nearly kills her to keep it secret, but Sakuma says nothing at all about her success until after the jam. It's been a good game and she feels great, and the party is a celebration rather than a consolation.
"I'm coming tonight," she tells Iwamoto as they change.
"What?!" Iwamoto stops unlacing her skate and stares. "Seriously?" Her eyes are wide.
"Yup!" Sakuma just grins until her face hurts.
"That's... wow. I didn't think you really would."
Sakuma sticks her tongue out. "So you were just gonna let me not come to the party?"
Iwamoto rolls her eyes. "I would have let you come anyway, you know that."
"Eh?!" Sakuma thinks about that for a second. "But then I... argh, you suck!" She throws a balled up sock at Iwamoto and misses.
"Hey, watch it!" Watanabe yelps, and then Sakuma is too busy dodging between teammates to think about her date.
That is, until she flies out of the locker room, Watanabe hot on her bare heels, and slams right into Yamamoto.
"Whoa, whoa," he says, grabbing her elbows to keep her from toppling over. His presence does nothing to deter Watanabe.
"I'll make you eat this sock, don't think I won't!"
Sakuma twists out of Yamamoto's hold and ducks behind his back, holding his waist and steering him back and forth to keep him between her and her teammate.
Yamamoto laughs and holds out his arms, seemingly content to play shield.
"Cheater," Watanabe accuses, but she rolls her eyes and tosses the sock at Yamamoto instead, who catches it with one hand. "Later," she calls as she heads back to finish getting changed.
"Yours?" Yamamoto says, turning around to dangle the sock in Sakuma's face.
It's only then that Sakuma feels properly horrified; she's still in her uniform, sweaty and gross from the jam. She reaches out to snatch the sock from his hand and shoves it behind her back, fighting down a blush.
"Sorry about that," she says, staring at her bare feet.
Yamamoto follows her gaze. "Even your toenails are pretty," he comments, and Sakuma snaps her eyes up to meet his.
"O-oh." Now she knows she's turning pink. "Um. Thank you. Ah, b-but," she stammers, "Can you pretend you never saw me like this?"
Yamamoto laughs, not unkindly, and catches her wrist as she tries to turn away. "But I saw you out on the track, first of all. And besides," he smiles. "I'm glad I can see you like this."
Sakuma freezes. "Huh?"
"Well, you get to see me all the time at dance practice. It's only fair I get to see the same."
"B-but... I'm all sweaty and gross," she protests, trying to pull her wrist free.
It doesn't work, and Yamamoto just pulls her in closer so he can whisper. "I think it's kind of hot."
Sakuma knows her eyes are huge, but she can't help staring in shock.
Yamamoto smiles like he's said nothing strange. "I'll be waiting outside. Let me know when you're ready to go."
And then she's staring at his back as he walks away, wondering what the hell just happened.
The walk back to her spot on the locker room bench is just long enough for her brain to start processing again. Some of her teammates are already gone, others still around, judging from the scatter of clothing and other items.
Watanabe is mostly changed and gives Sakuma a leer. "Have fun with your boytoy."
Sakuma ignores her and goes in search of Iwamoto.
She finds her in the shower and barges right in after tossing her uniform into an empty basket.
"Hikaru~"
"What the hell!" Iwamoto immediately turns her back and glares over her shoulder. "Chiho!"
Sakuma ignores that, too, sliding her way across the floor to latch onto her friend. "He thinks I'm hot!" she squeals, and lets go only after Iwamoto bats at her head.
"Congrats for you. Now get off, I'm trying to shower!"
"So?" Sakuma tilts her head innocently.
"Don't be weird," Iwamoto says. "We're not like that."
"No?" Sakuma asks, and reaches out to stroke a hand down Iwamoto's arm, just to mess with her.
Iwamoto shrieks. "Stop that! Ugh!" She glares for a moment, and then whips her head around to smack Sakuma in the face with her hair.
"Ow!" Sakuma ducks back, holding her cheek, but she supposes she deserved that. Any argument is settled just like that.
Iwamoto turns her back again, reaching for the conditioner. "So. How do you know he thinks you're hot?"
"He said so! To my face!" Sakuma enthuses, completely focused once again. "Oh god," she worries. "He actually likes me? What do I do?"
"Enjoy it?" Iwamoto snorts.
"Ah, I'd better hurry," Sakuma realizes, and rushes to shampoo her own hair. "Now I'll need time to get properly ready and everything..."
"Why? He likes you however. He said so."
"I still want to look nice!"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it matters!" Sakuma argues. "Ms. I-prefer-wearing-skirts-because-they-make-my-legs-look-nice."
Iwamoto turns and sticks out her tongue.
Sakuma tries to make a face back, pulling at one eye, but she's forgotten about the shampoo.
"Ow," she says, forgetting her point. "Shit!"
Iwamoto just laughs.
"Some best friend you are!"
Comments are awesome, but if not:
Pairing: Sakuma, Iwamoto (not Sakuma/Iwamoto)
Rating/Warnings: PG
AN: Written for the je100 Halloween Trick or Treat drabble thing. For kiayro, who wanted Sakuma and Iwamoto.
The Trouble With Boys
"So how are things with the boy?" Iwamoto asks. She's curled up on the floor of Sakuma's room, watching as her friend slowly transforms her fingernails into works of art.
"Good," Sakuma chirps. She's concentrating, forehead pinched as she draws a curling stripe of pink across one nail's surface. Good, by which she means she's working on it. She's got her methods and knows how to use her skills. This time, it means volunteering to do Senga-sempai's nails for her, which means when Sakuma shows up to watch Butoukan practice, it's clearly because she and Senga are friends. It has nothing to do with Yamamoto-kun at all. Of course.
Iwamoto laughs. "Good?"
"Don't do that!" Sakuma scolds. "You'll make me mess up!" She yanks Iwamoto closer so that she can pin her arm between her elbow and knee, grabbing her hand to keep her from moving.
"Sorry, sorry." Iwamoto chuckles again, but Sakuma settles for glaring, since she can't do much more. But then she thinks about The Boy and gets distracted from her annoyance.
"Ahh... he's so sweet~," she says, thinking of how he spread out his sweatshirt on a bench so she could sit and watch without getting her clothes dirty.
"Of course he is."
"He is," Sakuma insists. "You just don't-"
"I know, I know," Iwamoto interrupts. "I believe you. I have met him, you know."
Sakuma knows. She also knows she should maybe be grateful that Iwamoto introduced them, but she's too proud to say it.
"Hmm. Right." She draws another pink stripe.
"I'm throwing a party," Iwamoto says, stretching her legs out in front of her and keeping her hands well away from anything as instructed.
"Eh? When?" Sakuma asks.
Iwamoto makes it pretty clear that she's just come up with the idea on the spot, because she tilts her head and is obviously envisioning her planner in her head. "In two weeks. Saturday. Karaoke after the jam."
"Oh, okay! Sounds fun!"
"You can't come unless you bring Yamamoto-kun with you."
Sakuma flails. "What?! But... but I can't! How?!"
Iwamoto just smiles at her.
"Hikaruuuuuu, that's not fair!"
"It's totally fair. Someone needs to get you moving, so there you go. Incentive."
Iwamoto's parties are always fun. Damn.
"Sen-chan~," Sakuma sings, handing Senga her water bottle after a grueling dance practice. Her sempai downs half of it in two gulps and pours another bit into her hand to splash on her face.
"Hmm?"
Sakuma is all-too-aware of Yamamoto standing just behind her. "Hikaru is having a party next weekend," she starts, and then, "oh, of course you can come, by the way. It's after our jam, if you can come watch?" She smiles invitingly, playing up her cute kouhai act.
"Ah, yeah," Senga says. "I heard about that." She swipes her face with her towel. "I'm still not sure about my work schedule, but I was going to try to go."
"Yay!" Sakuma cheers. "But you know." She drops her voice lower, but not low enough that Yamamoto can't hear. "You need a date for the party."
"Well, that shouldn't be too much of a problem," Senga points out.
"Maybe for you," Sakuma wails, because Nikaido-sempai is easy like that, and then switches on a full-out pout. "Who am I supposed to bring?!"
"I can go," Tsukada offers, helpful as always, and he's only saved from Sakuma's icicle glare when Yara drags him off with a knowing smirk.
"Ahh," Sakuma sighs, loudly. When Yamamoto says nothing, she gives Senga a pleading look. A little help, please? Screw being subtle.
Senga thankfully catches on pretty quick for once. "Ryo-chan," she says, and Yamamoto looks up from where he's shoving a towel back into his bag.
"Hmm?"
"You're free next weekend, aren't you?" Senga's voice makes it more of a statement than a question.
Yamamoto looks caught. "Ah... yeah..."
"Great," Senga says, and claps her hands. "Problem solved."
Senga-sempai is the best ever.
It nearly kills her to keep it secret, but Sakuma says nothing at all about her success until after the jam. It's been a good game and she feels great, and the party is a celebration rather than a consolation.
"I'm coming tonight," she tells Iwamoto as they change.
"What?!" Iwamoto stops unlacing her skate and stares. "Seriously?" Her eyes are wide.
"Yup!" Sakuma just grins until her face hurts.
"That's... wow. I didn't think you really would."
Sakuma sticks her tongue out. "So you were just gonna let me not come to the party?"
Iwamoto rolls her eyes. "I would have let you come anyway, you know that."
"Eh?!" Sakuma thinks about that for a second. "But then I... argh, you suck!" She throws a balled up sock at Iwamoto and misses.
"Hey, watch it!" Watanabe yelps, and then Sakuma is too busy dodging between teammates to think about her date.
That is, until she flies out of the locker room, Watanabe hot on her bare heels, and slams right into Yamamoto.
"Whoa, whoa," he says, grabbing her elbows to keep her from toppling over. His presence does nothing to deter Watanabe.
"I'll make you eat this sock, don't think I won't!"
Sakuma twists out of Yamamoto's hold and ducks behind his back, holding his waist and steering him back and forth to keep him between her and her teammate.
Yamamoto laughs and holds out his arms, seemingly content to play shield.
"Cheater," Watanabe accuses, but she rolls her eyes and tosses the sock at Yamamoto instead, who catches it with one hand. "Later," she calls as she heads back to finish getting changed.
"Yours?" Yamamoto says, turning around to dangle the sock in Sakuma's face.
It's only then that Sakuma feels properly horrified; she's still in her uniform, sweaty and gross from the jam. She reaches out to snatch the sock from his hand and shoves it behind her back, fighting down a blush.
"Sorry about that," she says, staring at her bare feet.
Yamamoto follows her gaze. "Even your toenails are pretty," he comments, and Sakuma snaps her eyes up to meet his.
"O-oh." Now she knows she's turning pink. "Um. Thank you. Ah, b-but," she stammers, "Can you pretend you never saw me like this?"
Yamamoto laughs, not unkindly, and catches her wrist as she tries to turn away. "But I saw you out on the track, first of all. And besides," he smiles. "I'm glad I can see you like this."
Sakuma freezes. "Huh?"
"Well, you get to see me all the time at dance practice. It's only fair I get to see the same."
"B-but... I'm all sweaty and gross," she protests, trying to pull her wrist free.
It doesn't work, and Yamamoto just pulls her in closer so he can whisper. "I think it's kind of hot."
Sakuma knows her eyes are huge, but she can't help staring in shock.
Yamamoto smiles like he's said nothing strange. "I'll be waiting outside. Let me know when you're ready to go."
And then she's staring at his back as he walks away, wondering what the hell just happened.
The walk back to her spot on the locker room bench is just long enough for her brain to start processing again. Some of her teammates are already gone, others still around, judging from the scatter of clothing and other items.
Watanabe is mostly changed and gives Sakuma a leer. "Have fun with your boytoy."
Sakuma ignores her and goes in search of Iwamoto.
She finds her in the shower and barges right in after tossing her uniform into an empty basket.
"Hikaru~"
"What the hell!" Iwamoto immediately turns her back and glares over her shoulder. "Chiho!"
Sakuma ignores that, too, sliding her way across the floor to latch onto her friend. "He thinks I'm hot!" she squeals, and lets go only after Iwamoto bats at her head.
"Congrats for you. Now get off, I'm trying to shower!"
"So?" Sakuma tilts her head innocently.
"Don't be weird," Iwamoto says. "We're not like that."
"No?" Sakuma asks, and reaches out to stroke a hand down Iwamoto's arm, just to mess with her.
Iwamoto shrieks. "Stop that! Ugh!" She glares for a moment, and then whips her head around to smack Sakuma in the face with her hair.
"Ow!" Sakuma ducks back, holding her cheek, but she supposes she deserved that. Any argument is settled just like that.
Iwamoto turns her back again, reaching for the conditioner. "So. How do you know he thinks you're hot?"
"He said so! To my face!" Sakuma enthuses, completely focused once again. "Oh god," she worries. "He actually likes me? What do I do?"
"Enjoy it?" Iwamoto snorts.
"Ah, I'd better hurry," Sakuma realizes, and rushes to shampoo her own hair. "Now I'll need time to get properly ready and everything..."
"Why? He likes you however. He said so."
"I still want to look nice!"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it matters!" Sakuma argues. "Ms. I-prefer-wearing-skirts-because-they-make-my-legs-look-nice."
Iwamoto turns and sticks out her tongue.
Sakuma tries to make a face back, pulling at one eye, but she's forgotten about the shampoo.
"Ow," she says, forgetting her point. "Shit!"
Iwamoto just laughs.
"Some best friend you are!"
Comments are awesome, but if not: