Litany (in which certain things are crossed out) [5/8]
Chapter 1: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/22336.html
Chapter 2: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/22696.html
Chapter 3: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/22996.html
Chapter 4: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/23124.html
They eat apple pies straight out of the package with plastic forks; they watch daytime TV before the shift starts (‘Man, I don’t remember they were THIS shitty before.’ Shou grumbles, while Tora follows every clichéd plot with rapt attention) Shou even lets Tora have a sip of beer the other day, who splutters at the foreign taste. Shou calls him a pussy and gets slapped on the wrist by all the female staff within earshot; Tora still doesn’t know where to look when the girls are in their work gear, which just make them tease him all the more mercilessly---flipping their hair and putting hands on various body parts. A flustered Tora looking to Shou for rescue is becoming a regular sight.
Naturally, Shou decides to step in and solve the problem, once and for all.
Or so he hopes.
On a rare night off, he drives them both to one of the more exotic parts of town, where ladies parade around in their five inch heels and ten inch skirts, all flirty eyes and dirty promises. Not that their work place is a much classier establishment, but mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea, as Shou has learnt from experience.
He parks the car in a secluded spot, orders Tora to stay put, then goes off to find a target because apparently, he’s a goddamn saint. As he walks down the street Shou realizes that he doesn’t know what type of women Tora likes, he wonders for a second whether Tora likes women at all. But hey, gotta start somewhere right?
Eventually, he picks a brunette with an impressive rack and bright red lipstick. She shrugs at Shou’s request and walks with him back to the Mustang.
‘What type of sex?’
Shou hands her a wad of bills, tells her the standard, and keep going until the money’s up. Dude is new to this, so you know, go slow, or something.
‘Sure,’ she smiles, ‘I’ll make this the best present you’ve ever got for your friend.’
Tora stares, open mouthed, when the girl climbs into the backseat with a wink. Shou motions for him to get out and pulls him in by the elbow, whispering,
‘Relax, buddy, no one is putting a gun to your head. It will be fun, I promise.’
He feels a hesitate tag on his sleeve when he turns to go, Shou pulls a face, half appalled and half amused,
‘Hell no, I’m not holding your hand through this. Just, do what comes naturally?’
The prep talk is even more awkward than he imagined. Without another word, Shou shoves Tora into the backseat too and slams the door shut. Hoping against hope that the girl, at least, knows what to do.
He buys himself an over-priced drink with what’s left of the money, waits for a respectable length of time before picking his way back, humming a little.
The girl has left; Shou can just about make out the back of Tora’s head, leaning against the window. He grins and jerks that side of the door open, Tora almost face plants to the ground and catches himself with some flailing. Before he can make fun of Tora’s clumsiness, Shou unintentionally gets a whiff of the air inside, and promptly starts to make gagging sounds.
‘Jesus Christ, air it out after, will ya? There are some things I do not need to know.’
Tora doesn’t blush at the comment. Even if he does, it’s hard to tell with the spots of color still warming his cheeks. There is an almost bruised look to his mouth, and that’s definitely a hickey peeking out from beneath his collar. Shou whistles,
‘Bit of a wild cat isn’t she?’
They drive back in easy silence. Shou doesn’t bother with stupid questions like ‘how was it?’ He remembers his own first time, being sixteen and drunk on the new discovery---awkward and fumbling as it was. The mechanisms didn’t matter in the least; he could have walked on water for all the giddy excitement afterwards.
It feels practically heroic really; guiding someone through every new experience in life.
Every cliché has a grain of truth to it. That's why they're clichés---
One morning Shou gets woken up by the sound of small pebbles rolling along pavements---It’s been so long since it last rained it takes Shou a while to work out what the noise is. For one groggy moment, his eyes track the movement of murky water sliding down the windowpanes without any conscious thought, almost hypnotized by the rhythm.
Then the realization hits him: Tora is curiously absent.
Assuming he’s gone to the bathroom, Shou stretches languidly, wriggling his toes, rejoicing in the fact that he doesn’t need to be anywhere on such a miserable day.
He goes to open the windows for some fresh air, and almost stumbles in his amazement.
Tora is standing outside, arms spread out, face tilted towards the sky. God knows how long he’s been there; he looks soaked to the bone.
Shou leans out a bit, shielding his eyes,
‘Dude! Have you lost your mind? Get back inside!’
Tora startles at the noise, then whirls around, flapping his arms up and down at Shou, grinning like a lune,
‘Water!’
Shou’s glad that the streets are empty at least, or he might just die from embarrassment.
‘Yes, well spotted. Come back before you drown out there!’
Tora doesn’t move. Only signals for Shou to join him. Frustrated, Shou swears under his breath, slamming the window shut.
Fine, see if he cares if that dumbass dies from hypothermia.
He lasts for about three minutes, before he’s dashing downstairs into the chill, ready to bodily drag Tora in. Within seconds his hair gets plastered to his scalp by icy rainwater, it’s coming down so hard he’s having difficulty hearing himself.
‘I’m not taking you to the hospital if you---’
The sentence never gets finished. Before Shou registers what’s happening (later he’ll wonder if his reflexes have chosen that precise moment to go on holiday), Tora has grabbed him by the shoulders and is bending down, head tilted to the side…
The angle is awkward and they end up bumping noses more than anything. Shou staggers back, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally locating his vocal cords, torn between amusement and incredulity.
‘Jesus Holy…Did you? Were you trying to? Kiss me? IN THE FRIGGING RAIN?’
Tora looks on, uncomprehending and slightly hurt, judging by the droop in the corners of his mouth.
Shou slaps a hand across his forehead,
‘Just…get inside first.’
They clean up as much as they can with some ratty towels. But the sodden clothes have to come off. So they sit on top of the futon in nothing but their boxers for now, waiting for things to dry. Seeing the expression on Tora’s face, Shou shakes his head,
‘Well, care to tell me why?’
Tora contemplates for a moment, frowning in concentration. When he finally replies, it’s obvious that he’s picking the words with difficulty.
‘The…box? People do it, always.’
Shou tries, he really tries not to laugh; several of his ribs might be in danger of cracking though.
‘Okay, this is IT. No more chick flicks.’ He swipes at his eyes, tearing up from the effort of keeping a straight face,
‘You’re watching shit getting blown up on TV and nothing else, for the rest of your LIFE.’
After he’s managed to get his breathing under control, Shou puts a hand on Tora’s shoulder, squeezing a little,
‘Man, never thought I’d say this but, it’s not something you just randomly, do. Okay? You kiss your girlfriend, boyfriend, hook-up, whatever, but not strangers.’
‘Strangers?’
‘People you don’t know.’
Tora gives Shou a look that plainly says don’t be ridiculous (how the hell does he manage that?) Shou shrugs,
‘That’s different. I’m like, your brother. Hell, I practically raised you. Raised you up from a clueless little lamb, didn’t I?’ He smiles, somewhat awkwardly; a bubble swells in his chest, warm and unexpected.
Shou refuses to call it pride, but it’s a close thing.
A/N: Sorry about the long absence and the short chapter. Experiencing some major writer's block when it comes to this fic: how do you push things along without...doing it too obviously? XD
And really, I should give up on art-house films. Saw three of them recently: Sleeping beauty, La Belle Endormie, and Wuthering Height. All three were beautifully shot, but left me wondering what the hell the director was trying to get across...I think, for me at least, atmospheric pieces always work better written down.You can project images with words, but not vice versa
Chapter 2: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/22696.html
Chapter 3: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/22996.html
Chapter 4: http://chimerari.livejournal.com/23124.html
They eat apple pies straight out of the package with plastic forks; they watch daytime TV before the shift starts (‘Man, I don’t remember they were THIS shitty before.’ Shou grumbles, while Tora follows every clichéd plot with rapt attention) Shou even lets Tora have a sip of beer the other day, who splutters at the foreign taste. Shou calls him a pussy and gets slapped on the wrist by all the female staff within earshot; Tora still doesn’t know where to look when the girls are in their work gear, which just make them tease him all the more mercilessly---flipping their hair and putting hands on various body parts. A flustered Tora looking to Shou for rescue is becoming a regular sight.
Naturally, Shou decides to step in and solve the problem, once and for all.
Or so he hopes.
On a rare night off, he drives them both to one of the more exotic parts of town, where ladies parade around in their five inch heels and ten inch skirts, all flirty eyes and dirty promises. Not that their work place is a much classier establishment, but mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea, as Shou has learnt from experience.
He parks the car in a secluded spot, orders Tora to stay put, then goes off to find a target because apparently, he’s a goddamn saint. As he walks down the street Shou realizes that he doesn’t know what type of women Tora likes, he wonders for a second whether Tora likes women at all. But hey, gotta start somewhere right?
Eventually, he picks a brunette with an impressive rack and bright red lipstick. She shrugs at Shou’s request and walks with him back to the Mustang.
‘What type of sex?’
Shou hands her a wad of bills, tells her the standard, and keep going until the money’s up. Dude is new to this, so you know, go slow, or something.
‘Sure,’ she smiles, ‘I’ll make this the best present you’ve ever got for your friend.’
Tora stares, open mouthed, when the girl climbs into the backseat with a wink. Shou motions for him to get out and pulls him in by the elbow, whispering,
‘Relax, buddy, no one is putting a gun to your head. It will be fun, I promise.’
He feels a hesitate tag on his sleeve when he turns to go, Shou pulls a face, half appalled and half amused,
‘Hell no, I’m not holding your hand through this. Just, do what comes naturally?’
The prep talk is even more awkward than he imagined. Without another word, Shou shoves Tora into the backseat too and slams the door shut. Hoping against hope that the girl, at least, knows what to do.
He buys himself an over-priced drink with what’s left of the money, waits for a respectable length of time before picking his way back, humming a little.
The girl has left; Shou can just about make out the back of Tora’s head, leaning against the window. He grins and jerks that side of the door open, Tora almost face plants to the ground and catches himself with some flailing. Before he can make fun of Tora’s clumsiness, Shou unintentionally gets a whiff of the air inside, and promptly starts to make gagging sounds.
‘Jesus Christ, air it out after, will ya? There are some things I do not need to know.’
Tora doesn’t blush at the comment. Even if he does, it’s hard to tell with the spots of color still warming his cheeks. There is an almost bruised look to his mouth, and that’s definitely a hickey peeking out from beneath his collar. Shou whistles,
‘Bit of a wild cat isn’t she?’
They drive back in easy silence. Shou doesn’t bother with stupid questions like ‘how was it?’ He remembers his own first time, being sixteen and drunk on the new discovery---awkward and fumbling as it was. The mechanisms didn’t matter in the least; he could have walked on water for all the giddy excitement afterwards.
It feels practically heroic really; guiding someone through every new experience in life.
Every cliché has a grain of truth to it. That's why they're clichés---
One morning Shou gets woken up by the sound of small pebbles rolling along pavements---It’s been so long since it last rained it takes Shou a while to work out what the noise is. For one groggy moment, his eyes track the movement of murky water sliding down the windowpanes without any conscious thought, almost hypnotized by the rhythm.
Then the realization hits him: Tora is curiously absent.
Assuming he’s gone to the bathroom, Shou stretches languidly, wriggling his toes, rejoicing in the fact that he doesn’t need to be anywhere on such a miserable day.
He goes to open the windows for some fresh air, and almost stumbles in his amazement.
Tora is standing outside, arms spread out, face tilted towards the sky. God knows how long he’s been there; he looks soaked to the bone.
Shou leans out a bit, shielding his eyes,
‘Dude! Have you lost your mind? Get back inside!’
Tora startles at the noise, then whirls around, flapping his arms up and down at Shou, grinning like a lune,
‘Water!’
Shou’s glad that the streets are empty at least, or he might just die from embarrassment.
‘Yes, well spotted. Come back before you drown out there!’
Tora doesn’t move. Only signals for Shou to join him. Frustrated, Shou swears under his breath, slamming the window shut.
Fine, see if he cares if that dumbass dies from hypothermia.
He lasts for about three minutes, before he’s dashing downstairs into the chill, ready to bodily drag Tora in. Within seconds his hair gets plastered to his scalp by icy rainwater, it’s coming down so hard he’s having difficulty hearing himself.
‘I’m not taking you to the hospital if you---’
The sentence never gets finished. Before Shou registers what’s happening (later he’ll wonder if his reflexes have chosen that precise moment to go on holiday), Tora has grabbed him by the shoulders and is bending down, head tilted to the side…
The angle is awkward and they end up bumping noses more than anything. Shou staggers back, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally locating his vocal cords, torn between amusement and incredulity.
‘Jesus Holy…Did you? Were you trying to? Kiss me? IN THE FRIGGING RAIN?’
Tora looks on, uncomprehending and slightly hurt, judging by the droop in the corners of his mouth.
Shou slaps a hand across his forehead,
‘Just…get inside first.’
They clean up as much as they can with some ratty towels. But the sodden clothes have to come off. So they sit on top of the futon in nothing but their boxers for now, waiting for things to dry. Seeing the expression on Tora’s face, Shou shakes his head,
‘Well, care to tell me why?’
Tora contemplates for a moment, frowning in concentration. When he finally replies, it’s obvious that he’s picking the words with difficulty.
‘The…box? People do it, always.’
Shou tries, he really tries not to laugh; several of his ribs might be in danger of cracking though.
‘Okay, this is IT. No more chick flicks.’ He swipes at his eyes, tearing up from the effort of keeping a straight face,
‘You’re watching shit getting blown up on TV and nothing else, for the rest of your LIFE.’
After he’s managed to get his breathing under control, Shou puts a hand on Tora’s shoulder, squeezing a little,
‘Man, never thought I’d say this but, it’s not something you just randomly, do. Okay? You kiss your girlfriend, boyfriend, hook-up, whatever, but not strangers.’
‘Strangers?’
‘People you don’t know.’
Tora gives Shou a look that plainly says don’t be ridiculous (how the hell does he manage that?) Shou shrugs,
‘That’s different. I’m like, your brother. Hell, I practically raised you. Raised you up from a clueless little lamb, didn’t I?’ He smiles, somewhat awkwardly; a bubble swells in his chest, warm and unexpected.
Shou refuses to call it pride, but it’s a close thing.
A/N: Sorry about the long absence and the short chapter. Experiencing some major writer's block when it comes to this fic: how do you push things along without...doing it too obviously? XD
And really, I should give up on art-house films. Saw three of them recently: Sleeping beauty, La Belle Endormie, and Wuthering Height. All three were beautifully shot, but left me wondering what the hell the director was trying to get across...I think, for me at least, atmospheric pieces always work better written down.You can project images with words, but not vice versa