(no subject)
Title: Love. Drabbles #1-10
Rating: PG
Fandom: Digimon (Daikeru)
001 - Blue
The blond boy lay sprawled on the sofa in Daisuke’s family’s apartment, opting to ignore his boyfriend’s sceptical glance.
“Hey, Takeru,”
“Yea, Dais?”
Daisuke raised his brow, before shuffling over beside Takeru, and grasping his face in his hands. The blond stared wide-eyed, in remote shock at his boyfriend’s, well, randomness.
“Thought so!” Daisuke said aloud.
Takeru quirked an eyebrow as Daisuke dropped his hands, a bright grin lighting up his face.
“Thought what?”
Daisuke’s grin broadened devilishly, before he pushed his lover down further into the sofa, straddling his hips and trailing his lips lightly over Takeru’s.
“Your eyes are blue.”
002 - Red
Takeru has been the only person able to ignite such a ferocious passion within Daisuke.
A passion that overflows from Daisuke’s mind and over the edge when he and Takeru do one of two things.
Have sex.
Fight.
In both circumstances, the passionate outlet is very different.
When they have sex, Daisuke is so…so alive. In between all the sweat and pants and moans and thrusts, he can hardly contain the emotions he feels for the body writhing beneath, on top, or beside him. Emotions he hardly thought possible, emotions that he never thought he possessed, and what scares him is the fact that he feels them so bloody strong. Racing through his veins and somehow worming their way into his heart.
It’s different when they fight though, when they fight Daisuke’s passion falls into an entirely different category. A rage that sets his lethal tongue alight, and manages to damage the boy before him that makes him feel so much.
Daisuke likes it when they have sex.
Daisuke doesn’t like it when they fight.
Because when they fight, Daisuke can’t help but see red.
003 - Yellow
His hair’s not really blond, it’s more…yellow.
Takeru sighed, twisting the shaggy strands of sunny hair in between his pale fingers. He really doesn’t like his hair, it makes him stand out too much.
He’s not dumb after all, he knows when people first meet him their first impressions are always the same. Blond hair, blue eyes, no way in hell is that boy Japanese.
Damn French roots.
Takeru still remembers the looks he got on his first day at school. The stares that somehow managed to strip him of his confidence and hopeful chatter. The stares that successfully left Takeru throwing up his guts in the nurse’s office all day.
Damn low self-esteem.
The boy grabs another chunk of hair, contemplating how much it would hurt if he yanked it out.
But…then again, Daisuke always liked his hair. Takeru sighed, and chewed the inside of his cheek.
Daisuke never made snide comments about it, he never said how ‘un-Japanese’ it made him…on the contrary actually, Daisuke liked it.
Said it reminded him of the sun, of summer, of buttercups and Daffodils.
He told him to never change.
Takeru lets out another resigned sigh, releasing his hair from the strained hold, before shaking his head and grinning.
Well, if Daisuke likes it, it can’t be all that bad, can it?
004 - Green
poke
pokepoke
“Is it supposed to be green?”
poke
“I don’t think so.”
…
poke
“Gah! Dais, stop poking it!”
“Well what else am I supposed to do!”
“I…I dunno, throw it in the bin?”
“What! I am not touching that!”
“You made it!”
“Oh sure, blame me. I was just doing what you told me to do.”
“Yea well, that doesn’t really matter when it comes out all green and pasty and…and…mush.”
“It’s not that bad!”
“Yuh-huh, then why won’t you touch it.”
“Well…I made it for you didn’t I?”
“I love you, Dais, but there is no way in hell I’m touching that, let alone eating it.”
pout
“That won’t work, Dais.”
pout
“It won’t!”
“FINE! I’ll put it in the bin! But this is the last time I ever try to cook again!”
“Thank God, our stomachs have been spared.”
Needless to say, Daisuke was no longer aloud in the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but be proud that his plan had worked perfectly.
Takeru really shouldn’t have insisted that Daisuke try to cook for once, after all, the cooking was Takeru’s job.
005 - Pink
The look on Daisuke’s face was positively comical, and despite Takeru’s best efforts, he couldn’t contain his laughter.
The red-head scowled, “Geez, it’s not funny, Takaishi!”
Takeru snorted, before he picked up the pink shirt thrown to the floor in front of him.
“Well, it is a little.” The blond replied, still trying to restrain his giggles.
“I can’t believe you’d laugh at this, Takeru, I can’t wear this anymore.”
Daisuke growled, abandoning the pink shirt with his lover, and storming into the living room of their apartment.
Still giggling slightly, Takeru held the shirt to his face, absorbing the smell of washing powder and Daisuke, a smell that always seemed to put him slightly at ease. He remained there for a few minutes, before silently following his lover into the living room.
“It’s not that bad, Dais.”
“Of course you’d think that, you don’t have to wear it.”
Takeru sighed, taking a seat beside the sulking red-head.
“You know it’s your fault it’s like this anyway.”
Daisuke’s head shot up at this, eyes glaring daggers.
“I mean, if you had any sense of laundry, it never would’ve happened.”
“How was I supposed to know colour systems and stuff.”
Takeru shook his head, “Daisuke, its common sense not to put red laundry in with the whites.”
The red-head looked back up at his lover’s warm gaze, finding it hard to say upset when, in all honesty, he shouldn’t be taking it out on Takeru.
“Fine,” Daisuke huffed, “I’ll have to buy a new shirt. But damn, Takeru-“ Dais grinned deliciously, “Damn, you’re domestic.”
007 - White
Daisuke could safely say that if there was one thing he adored, it had to be the snow.
Not just for what it was, (although snowball fights and snowmen were always fun) but also for what it represented. A substance so cold, yet so full of purity, so full of innocence and light, well, that's what his English Lit. teacher said. But it was more than that to Daisuke, because it reminded him of that snowy morning not too long ago.
That snowy morning that found him and Takeru wandering home across the white, frost covered streets. Slowly walking closer and closer to each other to try and contain some of that rare warmth.
That same morning when Takeru had looked down at him, his hair a snowy white, and kissed him gently. Daisuke had taken the boys waist in his arms, and held him, not giving him a chance to escape.
And for once, the people walking past didn't matter so much, the only people that mattered were the two of them. Standing on the curb of Odaiba, in evening traffic, surrounded by the white, icy flakes falling from the sky.
Daisuke could safely say that if there was one thing he adored, it had to be snow. Why? Jun had asked, when he had told her.
He had grinned deviously in response and told her that, quite frankly, the image of Takeru, all in white was something that he liked.
Jun had rolled her eyes, and stated bluntly, voice full of sarcasm, that the boy must've looked a perfect bride.
And Daisuke couldn't help but smirk, he didn't mind the sound of that.
Takeru, his white bride.
008 - Brown.
It was there, it was brown, it was disgusting.
"Dais!"
The boy in question popped his head around the doorway of the small apartment, eyeing his lover carefully. Appearing to take a step back as the blond glared at him.
"What's up?" Daisuke asked, expression almost sceptical.
Takeru turned a furious gaze on the other boy, and pointed straight to the floor.
Daisuke followed the finger, quirking an eyebrow at the mess on the mess that resided there.
"So?"
"Daisuke, I am trying to be patient, and I know we haven't been living together for long, but honestly!"
The red-head at 19, was every bit as clueless as he had been in his more youthful days. That was probably what irritated Takeru the most, the fact that Daisuke honestly couldn't see what he'd done wrong.
"Dais, I will not ask this again. When you get home from soccer, take your shoes off!"
"...It's just a bit of mud, 'keru."
Takeru snarled, groping for the bucket and cloth he had slung on the counter, and without further provoking on Daisuke part, thrust the items at the other boy.
"Just a bit of mud? Then you'll have no problem cleaning it up!"
The red-head nodded, grasping the cloth tight in his hand, as Takeru folded his arms across his chest. Sighing, he leapt out from the doorway and trod over to the mess his soccer boots had left.
He eyed it.
It was there, it was brown, it was disgusting.
"There is no way in hell I'm touching that!"
009 - Silver.
“Gold is an over-estimated colour.”
Takeru looked up from where he lay, curled warmly on the sofa.
“What makes you say that?” He replied.
Daisuke pursed his lips, hands scooping at the bottom of his pockets.
“Just is. I mean, everything good is associated with the colour gold. When you win something - gold, when you surpass others, when your recognized…it’s all gold, y’know?”
The blond tilted his head, glancing oddly at the other boy.
“So?”
“I dunno, it just makes it such a common and expected colour, hell even wedding rings are gold.”
Nodding again, Takeru lay back on the couch, half waiting for Daisuke to continue his lazy rant.
“I’ve decided that when we get married, you’re getting a silver wedding ring.”
Takeru couldn’t help but quirk a brow.
“When?”
“Hm?”
“You said when, not if.”
Daisuke grinned.
“Yea, guess I did.”
010 - Rainbow
A rainbow is a bright thing that illuminates the skies and, for some reason or another, places hope in the hearts of those to miserable to keep up the fight. But a rainbow is also a mere trick of the light, disappearing with every change of weather.
More often than not, Takeru identifies Daisuke as a rainbow.
He’s bright - more cheerful than intelligent. He has the uncanny ability to ignite hope and optimism in the hearts of whomever he meets.
Daisuke is stronger, brighter in times of heavy rain, heavy turmoil, and he’s so colourful, not just in spirit, but in the florescent raver clothing he decks himself in.
But, true to all rainbow formations, he disappears.
Not always intentionally, not always physically, but a part of him always manages that disappearing act.
And every time, he succeeds in breaking Takeru’s heart just that little bit more, and every time, when Daisuke returns, Takeru has never - will never - feel more whole.
When they fight, Takeru calls Daisuke a rainbow.
Daisuke doesn’t get it, but that’s ok.
He doesn’t have too.
006 - Black
Takeru can’t pretend it doesn’t scare him. He can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt to look over at Daisuke, and see him so full of light and life, to see him so beautiful and alive and know that he can’t touch him, not here, not in public.
The blond bets that his boyfriend never felt this way, never felt jealous of the straight lovers, who were able to hold hands, and kiss and hug in the streets.
It’s not this that scares him though, it’s the feeling in his heart, the dark feeling, the emotion that runs so deep and dark it feels almost…almost black.
He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like watching Daisuke chatter and laugh and feel, whilst Takeru has to walk a couple of paces behind, ahead or to the side. God forbid anyone think they’re queer.
And it’s times like this when Takeru feels that black thing throb and grow, spread and set its roots in his heart, too deep to ever be fully removed.
So Takeru hates not being able to hold hands in public.
He hates not being able to kiss him, or embrace him, or show Daisuke how much he means to him within the public eye.
But most of all, Takeru hates the black in his heart.
007 - White
Daisuke could safely say that if there was one thing he adored, it had to be the snow.
Not just for what it was, (although snowball fights and snowmen were always fun) but also for what it represented. A substance so cold, yet so full of purity, so full of innocence and light, well, that's what his English Lit. teacher said. But it was more than that to Daisuke, because it reminded him of that snowy morning not too long ago.
That snowy morning that found him and Takeru wandering home across the white, frost covered streets. Slowly walking closer and closer to each other to try and contain some of that rare warmth.
That same morning when Takeru had looked down at him, his hair a snowy white, and kissed him gently. Daisuke had taken the boy’s waist in his arms, and held him, not giving him a chance to escape.
And for once, the people walking past didn't matter so much, the only people that mattered were the two of them. Standing on the curb of Odaiba, in evening traffic, surrounded by the white, icy flakes falling from the sky.
Daisuke could safely say that if there was one thing he adored, it had to be snow. Why? Jun had asked, when he had told her.
He had grinned deviously in response and told her that, quite frankly, the image of Takeru, all in white was something that he liked.
Jun had rolled her eyes, and stated bluntly, voice full of sarcasm, that the boy must've looked a perfect bride.
And Daisuke couldn't help but smirk, he didn't mind the sound of that.
Takeru, his white bride.
008 - Brown.
It was there, it was brown, it was disgusting.
"Dais!"
The boy in question popped his head around the doorway of the small apartment, eyeing his lover carefully. Appearing to take a step back as the blond glared at him.
"What's up?" Daisuke asked, expression almost sceptical.
Takeru turned a furious gaze on the other boy, and pointed straight to the floor.
Daisuke followed the finger, quirking an eyebrow at the mess that resided there.
"So?"
"Daisuke, I am trying to be patient, and I know we haven't been living together for long, but honestly!"
The red-head at 19, was every bit as clueless as he had been in his more youthful days. That was probably what irritated Takeru the most, the fact that Daisuke honestly couldn't see what he'd done wrong.
"Dais, I will not ask this again. When you get home from soccer, take your shoes off!"
"...It's just a bit of mud, 'keru."
Takeru snarled, groping for the bucket and cloth he had slung on the counter, and without further provoking on Daisuke part, thrust the items at the other boy.
"Just a bit of mud? Then you'll have no problem cleaning it up!"
The red-head nodded, grasping the cloth tight in his hand, as Takeru folded his arms across his chest. Sighing, he leapt out from the doorway and trod over to the mess his soccer boots had left.
He eyed it.
It was there, it was brown, it was disgusting.
"There is no way in hell I'm touching that!"
009 - Silver.
“Gold is an over-estimated colour.”
Takeru looked up from where he lay, curled warmly on the sofa.
“What makes you say that?” He replied.
Daisuke pursed his lips, hands scooping at the bottom of his pockets.
“Just is. I mean, everything good is associated with the colour gold. When you win something - gold, when you surpass others, when your recognized…it’s all gold, y’know?”
The blond tilted his head, glancing oddly at the other boy.
“So?”
“I dunno, it just makes it such a common and expected colour, hell even wedding rings are gold.”
Nodding again, Takeru lay back on the couch, half waiting for Daisuke to continue his lazy rant.
“I’ve decided that when we get married, you’re getting a silver wedding ring.”
Takeru couldn’t help but quirk a brow.
“When?”
“Hm?”
“You said when, not if.”
Daisuke grinned.
“Yea, guess I did.”
010 - Rainbow
A rainbow is a bright thing that illuminates the skies and, for some reason or another, places hope in the hearts of those to miserable to keep up the fight. But a rainbow is also a mere trick of the light, disappearing with every change of weather.
More often than not, Takeru identifies Daisuke as a rainbow.
He’s bright - more cheerful than intelligent. He has the uncanny ability to ignite hope and optimism in the hearts of whomever he meets.
Daisuke is stronger, brighter in times of heavy rain, heavy turmoil, and he’s so colourful, not just in spirit, but in the florescent raver clothing he decks himself in.
But, true to all rainbow formations, he disappears.
Not always intentionally, not always physically, but a part of him always manages that disappearing act.
And every time, he succeeds in breaking Takeru’s heart just that little bit more, and every time, when Daisuke returns, Takeru has never - will never - feel more whole.
When they fight, Takeru calls Daisuke a rainbow.
Daisuke doesn’t get it, but that’s ok.
He doesn’t have too.