[Fic]
Title: A Passing Moment
Genre: Fluff (?)
Rating: PG
Characters: Hatori, Ayame
Comments: I decided to make this a drabble, because I started writing months ago and don't remember at all what I had wanted to do for the beginning. So basically this is the last page of it, since I have the bad habit of starting at the end and working my way back. I usually wouldn't be posting this, but there's so little Hatoyame out there that it makes me sad.
Hatori looked down into golden imbued eyes that shone with warmth and another emotion he didn't care to dwell on. He and Ayame stood mere inches apart, almost touching but not yet daring to bridge that unseen barrier. His arm ached with tension, poised to rest a hand on the other's shoulder, still on the edge of hesitation. Agonizing seconds passed, lost in aeternum, before the silence was broken with the finality of a sigh.
Silver hair spilled forward as Ayame tilted his head to one side as he smiled. A pang of regret threatened to taint his voice, but he masked it well. Speaking in a tone softer than the one he was accustomed to, he prepared his departure, "I should probably leave so you can get back to work."
The words managed to stir Hatori from his reverie. He opened his mouth to speak but found words failing him when he finally chose to seek them. Instead, he acted - uncharacteristically - on impulse.
Surprise seemed a flimsy word to convey what he felt as Hatori brushed his lips against his own. It was merely the prevalent emotion amongst a torrent of others - disbelief, wonder, an almost painful elation. Taking what was offered without question he tentatively kissed back, as though afraid he might find himself waking from a dream. Slender arms rose of their own volition to clasp around the other's neck, securing the embrace as much as he dared. The exchange was chaste, had it been anyone else, it might merely have been an expression of affection between close friends. However, they both knew that Hatori was not one to idly respond to, let alone instigate, such gestures. Neither was quite sure what to make of it. Neither wanted to delve too deeply, forsaking analysis for the simple comfort presented.
Hatori was the one to pull away first, eyes closing. His hands rested lightly upon Ayame's waist, a contrast of smooth fabric and silken hair to his slightly callused fingers. A quiet exhalation and he felt his friend's head come to rest against his chest. Faintly a part of his mind cursed him for his foolish whim. It was ignored for the peace that seemed to steal over his being - such respite was not sacrificed readily.
Ayame found thought buried almost entirely by sensation. White cloth radiated the warmth of its wearer, offset by the cold that permeated the room. A faint hint of cologne mingled with the lingering smell cigarette smoke. He could hear the rhythmic sound of breathing and fancied he could hear the quickened beating of the other's heart. He was left to speculate about the latter, unsure if it was Hatori's or his own. It was impossible for him to recall when he had come to love his friend so profoundly. One thought floated up to his mind, near treacherous in its threat to be bitter.
I wish I could be the person to make you happy again. But it always ends up the other way around.
The words were nearly inaudible, muffled and spoken in a bare whisper. At first Hatori thought he imagined them; in the end he decided that they were ones that went best left unanswered regardless.
Sometimes you are that person.
Outside the snow continued to fall.
Genre: Fluff (?)
Rating: PG
Characters: Hatori, Ayame
Comments: I decided to make this a drabble, because I started writing months ago and don't remember at all what I had wanted to do for the beginning. So basically this is the last page of it, since I have the bad habit of starting at the end and working my way back. I usually wouldn't be posting this, but there's so little Hatoyame out there that it makes me sad.
Hatori looked down into golden imbued eyes that shone with warmth and another emotion he didn't care to dwell on. He and Ayame stood mere inches apart, almost touching but not yet daring to bridge that unseen barrier. His arm ached with tension, poised to rest a hand on the other's shoulder, still on the edge of hesitation. Agonizing seconds passed, lost in aeternum, before the silence was broken with the finality of a sigh.
Silver hair spilled forward as Ayame tilted his head to one side as he smiled. A pang of regret threatened to taint his voice, but he masked it well. Speaking in a tone softer than the one he was accustomed to, he prepared his departure, "I should probably leave so you can get back to work."
The words managed to stir Hatori from his reverie. He opened his mouth to speak but found words failing him when he finally chose to seek them. Instead, he acted - uncharacteristically - on impulse.
Surprise seemed a flimsy word to convey what he felt as Hatori brushed his lips against his own. It was merely the prevalent emotion amongst a torrent of others - disbelief, wonder, an almost painful elation. Taking what was offered without question he tentatively kissed back, as though afraid he might find himself waking from a dream. Slender arms rose of their own volition to clasp around the other's neck, securing the embrace as much as he dared. The exchange was chaste, had it been anyone else, it might merely have been an expression of affection between close friends. However, they both knew that Hatori was not one to idly respond to, let alone instigate, such gestures. Neither was quite sure what to make of it. Neither wanted to delve too deeply, forsaking analysis for the simple comfort presented.
Hatori was the one to pull away first, eyes closing. His hands rested lightly upon Ayame's waist, a contrast of smooth fabric and silken hair to his slightly callused fingers. A quiet exhalation and he felt his friend's head come to rest against his chest. Faintly a part of his mind cursed him for his foolish whim. It was ignored for the peace that seemed to steal over his being - such respite was not sacrificed readily.
Ayame found thought buried almost entirely by sensation. White cloth radiated the warmth of its wearer, offset by the cold that permeated the room. A faint hint of cologne mingled with the lingering smell cigarette smoke. He could hear the rhythmic sound of breathing and fancied he could hear the quickened beating of the other's heart. He was left to speculate about the latter, unsure if it was Hatori's or his own. It was impossible for him to recall when he had come to love his friend so profoundly. One thought floated up to his mind, near treacherous in its threat to be bitter.
I wish I could be the person to make you happy again. But it always ends up the other way around.
The words were nearly inaudible, muffled and spoken in a bare whisper. At first Hatori thought he imagined them; in the end he decided that they were ones that went best left unanswered regardless.
Sometimes you are that person.
Outside the snow continued to fall.