FIC: Hikago - Bad Hair, Karaoke, and Just Touya {Hikaru/Akira}
title: Bad Hair, Karaoke, and Just Touya
fandom: Hikaru no Go
pairing: Hikaru/Akira
rating: PG-13
summary: Hikaru contemplates the state of Touya's hair and why he's never comtemplated it's state before.
Bad Hair, Karaoke, and Just Touya
Hikaru had once asked Waya why he still hated Touya so much. They'd been crammed in one of those little karaoke rooms because Akari had forced him to come meet her new high school friends. He'd chosen to drag Waya along because Akari had said to bring normal friends and Waya was as close as it got these days. Cheap vending machine beer had been consumed, and they were slightly dazed from the loud J-pop blasting and the heat that high school girl flailing created.
Hikaru hoped this would somehow translate to a relatively truthful response; one which Hikaru deeply suspected to be somewhere between kind of jealous, jealous, and extremely jealous.
Waya, however, proved to have more wits about him than natural for someone who had just heard 'Fly Me to the Moon' sung off key and in bad Engrish no less than five million times in the last two hours.
"He has stupid hair," Waya claimed absently, watching with growing despair when another round of the "I'm a Little Butterfly" techno remix seemed to be approaching.
"He does not," Hikaru defended immediately, snatching the can Waya had just opened and looked keen on guzzling in one go.
But Hikaru had never really thought about Touya's hair before. He was just, just Touya. When he was a lower dan, he'd heard the middle aged women gossip and titter over how cute and precious Touya was and how if they were his mother, they wouldn't let him out in public dressed the way he did, but. He was Touya. That's what he looked like.
There had been a startling period more recently, somewhere around when Touya had turned legal -- which Hikaru would have determined to be the most significant factor here if he were the bitter, judgmental person Waya was-- when Ogata had started to hover more often, guiding Touya from place to place with a hand on his shoulder, that didn't seem quite as paternal anymore, and buying Touya pants that didn't taper at the ankles and balloon out at the hips.
Frankly, it had freaked Hikaru out to no end, and when Hikaru had said as much to Touya, or rather screamed as much during one of their post game discussions (because if Touya was going to wear a leather jacket then Hikaru could attack the left side as early as he damn well pleased) it had abruptly stopped. Hikaru was pretty sure it had something to do with how pale Touya had turned when Hikaru had thrown out the phrase 'kept boy,' but one could never really tell with Touya.
Which was really the excuse and explanation Hikaru had been giving Waya for years if he'd only listen.
Touya, who showed a captivating passion for everything that he deemed important and a cold disinterest for anything he considered not. Touya, who had pulled him into the Go world at a run when he'd been content to sit back and coast by as he'd always done. Touya, who made him care and strive and want.
Touya, who had found Sai.
That bowl headed bob might have been stupid on anyone else, but somehow on Touya it didn't count. Hikaru couldn't pick apart and examine the different aspects because they all combined to make Touya, and individually they just didn't matter. He was bright and intense and Go.
It was blinding.
Afterwards, mind still hazy from beer and tone deaf girls, Hikaru made it back to his apartment, where Touya was waiting for him. He curled up around the goban and played a spectacularly mediocre mid-game, which Touya seemed to take as a personal insult, before collapsing on his futon and taking Touya with him.
Despite his exhaustion, Hikaru remained awake after Touya had fallen asleep against one of his more inviting ribs. The light from the street crept in through his blinds, streaking the opposite wall with perfect horizontal lines, occasionally shuddering slightly in the breeze from the partially opened window. The hour made everything seem stretched and strange, but Touya's steady breaths were warm and familiar. Hikaru wrapped his fingers around the ends of Touya's, admittedly stupid, hair, and closed his eyes.
He was just Touya.
original post
fandom: Hikaru no Go
pairing: Hikaru/Akira
rating: PG-13
summary: Hikaru contemplates the state of Touya's hair and why he's never comtemplated it's state before.
Bad Hair, Karaoke, and Just Touya
Hikaru had once asked Waya why he still hated Touya so much. They'd been crammed in one of those little karaoke rooms because Akari had forced him to come meet her new high school friends. He'd chosen to drag Waya along because Akari had said to bring normal friends and Waya was as close as it got these days. Cheap vending machine beer had been consumed, and they were slightly dazed from the loud J-pop blasting and the heat that high school girl flailing created.
Hikaru hoped this would somehow translate to a relatively truthful response; one which Hikaru deeply suspected to be somewhere between kind of jealous, jealous, and extremely jealous.
Waya, however, proved to have more wits about him than natural for someone who had just heard 'Fly Me to the Moon' sung off key and in bad Engrish no less than five million times in the last two hours.
"He has stupid hair," Waya claimed absently, watching with growing despair when another round of the "I'm a Little Butterfly" techno remix seemed to be approaching.
"He does not," Hikaru defended immediately, snatching the can Waya had just opened and looked keen on guzzling in one go.
But Hikaru had never really thought about Touya's hair before. He was just, just Touya. When he was a lower dan, he'd heard the middle aged women gossip and titter over how cute and precious Touya was and how if they were his mother, they wouldn't let him out in public dressed the way he did, but. He was Touya. That's what he looked like.
There had been a startling period more recently, somewhere around when Touya had turned legal -- which Hikaru would have determined to be the most significant factor here if he were the bitter, judgmental person Waya was-- when Ogata had started to hover more often, guiding Touya from place to place with a hand on his shoulder, that didn't seem quite as paternal anymore, and buying Touya pants that didn't taper at the ankles and balloon out at the hips.
Frankly, it had freaked Hikaru out to no end, and when Hikaru had said as much to Touya, or rather screamed as much during one of their post game discussions (because if Touya was going to wear a leather jacket then Hikaru could attack the left side as early as he damn well pleased) it had abruptly stopped. Hikaru was pretty sure it had something to do with how pale Touya had turned when Hikaru had thrown out the phrase 'kept boy,' but one could never really tell with Touya.
Which was really the excuse and explanation Hikaru had been giving Waya for years if he'd only listen.
Touya, who showed a captivating passion for everything that he deemed important and a cold disinterest for anything he considered not. Touya, who had pulled him into the Go world at a run when he'd been content to sit back and coast by as he'd always done. Touya, who made him care and strive and want.
Touya, who had found Sai.
That bowl headed bob might have been stupid on anyone else, but somehow on Touya it didn't count. Hikaru couldn't pick apart and examine the different aspects because they all combined to make Touya, and individually they just didn't matter. He was bright and intense and Go.
It was blinding.
Afterwards, mind still hazy from beer and tone deaf girls, Hikaru made it back to his apartment, where Touya was waiting for him. He curled up around the goban and played a spectacularly mediocre mid-game, which Touya seemed to take as a personal insult, before collapsing on his futon and taking Touya with him.
Despite his exhaustion, Hikaru remained awake after Touya had fallen asleep against one of his more inviting ribs. The light from the street crept in through his blinds, streaking the opposite wall with perfect horizontal lines, occasionally shuddering slightly in the breeze from the partially opened window. The hour made everything seem stretched and strange, but Touya's steady breaths were warm and familiar. Hikaru wrapped his fingers around the ends of Touya's, admittedly stupid, hair, and closed his eyes.
He was just Touya.
original post