inadvertant threesome drabbles - JE - PG-13
So the idea behind these was, someone (in this case maya-morning) gave me 10 word-or-phrase prompts, and then i wrote them all into one drabble in some way.
koki/kame/jin | yamapi/kame/jin
prompts: 1. Money, 2. Time, 3. Wish You Were Here, 4. One of These Days, 5. sheep, 6. A nice pair, 7. Don't leave me now, 8. comfortably numb, 9. hey you, 10. Any colour you like
word count: 608
1Kame's breathing slowed on towards sleep, skin lit grey and pale in stripes from the blinds on the window. Koki wouldn't trade all the money in the world for this moment. 2Time seemed to stop moving, or it seemed to stretch out into infinity, never-ending, in moments like these: quiet, too high above the slow middle of the night traffic to hear it, stillness and peace. 3Kame slept, and Koki mentally catalogued the moment, tried to memorize everything about it, made sure he didn't miss the slightest detail. He'd describe it for Jin later, when he called, give him the memory to share, and for a few moments, it would be like he'd been there too. 4That they'd all been together.
5Kame shivered a little, in his sleep, snuffled closer to the warm spot Koki was making in the dip in the matress next to him, breaking the moment and starting another. Koki smiled to himself in the dark, fond and sweet where no one was awake to see it, and pulled the coverlet up out of its tangle at the foot of the bed, covering them both with sheeps' wool and cotton. 6He curled himself around Kame's sleeping form, and for just a moment, in that place between sleep and consciousness, expected Jin to come in late from the bathroom off the room where they slept, light turned off before he opened the door. He'd stand in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the shades of grey in the bigger bedroom; Koki would know when Jin's eyes adjusted, because Jin always got this special kind of look on his face when he saw his two boys together and he didn't think anyone would see him. 7It was like all the lines of Jin's face went soft for a moment, and it made this hot, fierce feeling well up in the middle of Koki's chest: a promise never to let Jin get away from him, a promise to Jin never to abandon him.
8Koki didn't like nights Jin was gone, even with Kame beside him to keep him warm. Things weren't right, but he couldn't fight the stillness forever and sleep rose up and pulled him down into oblivion.
9Koki woke up before even Kame would normally be up, a different kind of pale coming in between the spaces between the blinds: pre-dawn, light rising, filling up the air before the first fingers of the sun had a chance to break bright and fiery against the eastern sky. Sure enough, Kame was still asleep stretched out on his side on Koki's right, facing him, soft breaths sending the end of a lock of hair up in soft puffs away from his face. But there was a long warm line stretched out behind him as well, spreading heat across Koki's back.
Koki turned carefully around on the bed, heart unreasonably in his throat, like he was dreaming, like Jin wasn't actually going to be there when he got there. The movement woke Jin up, eyes full of leftover edges of sleep, but he smiled a little to return the grin Koki couldn't help but break into. "Hey, you," Jin said, an almost-whisper, hardly more than a breath of air against Koki's skin.
"Hey yourself," Koki says back, and it comes out with no voice at all, even though he'd meant to say it aloud, sleep-gunk clogging his throat. Koki slipped one foot between Jin's ankles, and Jin moved to drape an arm over Koki's waist, palm resting on the fold of blanket over Kame's hip. 10And the sun finally broke into brilliance over the edge of the horizon.
prompts: 1. us and them, 2. eclipse, 3. another brick, 4. on the run, 5. hills, 6. have a cigar, 7. brain damage, 8. i'm not afraid of dying, 9. cash, 10. football
word count: 648
1There's 'us', and there's 'them', and the lines blur sometimes, until Kame can't tell which is which and who's supposed to be in what group. 2Sometimes Kame feels like if he could have stared straight into it, he'd be able to pick out a thin clear line, a border uncrossable, right before the flaring sun burnt his eyes out.
3Kame waits outside the back of the studio building for Yamapi to get out of filming. Jin's at home, supposedly, if home is what you could call it. Kame's not sure. He traces down another brick with his eyes, follows the course of the mortar down, 4like running down the pentracks in nobuta: flower, water, flower, water. Only this time the words are 'yes, no, yes, no' and Kame gets to the bottom of the wall before he finds his answer. He wishes he still smoked.
Kame turns away from the wall abruptly, and walks to the mouth of the alley. He needed air. 5Pressed in between the studio buildings suddenly too much like being caught in a canyon cut into the hills by a long dead stream. Landscapes like they don't get in Japan. Something out of the red American desert. Something strange and foreign and beautiful. 6Something alien and deadly, with iron railroad tracks carving up the dry ground and black iron engines hurtling over the country, fat tycoons smoking their cigars and blind to the countryside around them inside. Train compartment filling with smoke the way the train filled the sky.
7Kame doesn't hear Yamapi when he finally comes out, and twitches like an idiot when he feels a hand on his shoulder. There's no reason he should have expected Yamapi to bang the door open; he's not Jin. And he's not with Jin right now, which makes most of the difference. Yamapi's quieter apart. These kinds of things. He doesn't know what to do with them, doesn't know how to hold them. It's like he's going out of his head, like he took a blow to the brain and it doesn't work right anymore because he knows this should be so much simpler--he just can't find the connections.
8He's not afraid of dying, but Kame is afraid of this. Dying is a one time thing. You give up, and then you're done. This is like being asked to lie down every hour of every day for the rest of your life, which, since you're not dying, might be a really long time. He doesn't know how to give in like that, and every moment is a fight: with Yamapi, with Jin, with himself. With himself. With the other two, there isn't any real struggle at all. That's in his head.
"You coming?" Yamapi's moved around in front of Kame now, face turned back over his shoulder to catch Kame's eye. Yamapi's eyes crinkle at the corner, happy maybe. Kame's brain stutters over that because he doesn't know what to do with it, can't process potential meanings, and certainly can't toss it away.
"Yeah," Kame says, belated, "Yeah." He climbs into the back of the cab some PA had ordered for Yamapi. Yamapi slides forward far enough to give the driver his--their address, then flops back against the leather upholstery. Kame looks out the window on his side the entire forty-eight minute trip, but his hand creeps over the middle seat towards Yamapi until Yamapi gets the picture and catches it with his own fingers. 9Kame pays the driver, in cash, and slides across the seats to get out on Yamapi's side. Kame won't let go of Yamapi's hand.
10Jin's waiting for them upstairs, football on mute flickering on the television. Kame doesn't know what he's doing well enough to figure out if it's worth it. He figures that doesn't matter, because he's going to keep doing it anyway. He can't throw them away.
koki/kame/jin | yamapi/kame/jin
prompts: 1. Money, 2. Time, 3. Wish You Were Here, 4. One of These Days, 5. sheep, 6. A nice pair, 7. Don't leave me now, 8. comfortably numb, 9. hey you, 10. Any colour you like
word count: 608
1Kame's breathing slowed on towards sleep, skin lit grey and pale in stripes from the blinds on the window. Koki wouldn't trade all the money in the world for this moment. 2Time seemed to stop moving, or it seemed to stretch out into infinity, never-ending, in moments like these: quiet, too high above the slow middle of the night traffic to hear it, stillness and peace. 3Kame slept, and Koki mentally catalogued the moment, tried to memorize everything about it, made sure he didn't miss the slightest detail. He'd describe it for Jin later, when he called, give him the memory to share, and for a few moments, it would be like he'd been there too. 4That they'd all been together.
5Kame shivered a little, in his sleep, snuffled closer to the warm spot Koki was making in the dip in the matress next to him, breaking the moment and starting another. Koki smiled to himself in the dark, fond and sweet where no one was awake to see it, and pulled the coverlet up out of its tangle at the foot of the bed, covering them both with sheeps' wool and cotton. 6He curled himself around Kame's sleeping form, and for just a moment, in that place between sleep and consciousness, expected Jin to come in late from the bathroom off the room where they slept, light turned off before he opened the door. He'd stand in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the shades of grey in the bigger bedroom; Koki would know when Jin's eyes adjusted, because Jin always got this special kind of look on his face when he saw his two boys together and he didn't think anyone would see him. 7It was like all the lines of Jin's face went soft for a moment, and it made this hot, fierce feeling well up in the middle of Koki's chest: a promise never to let Jin get away from him, a promise to Jin never to abandon him.
8Koki didn't like nights Jin was gone, even with Kame beside him to keep him warm. Things weren't right, but he couldn't fight the stillness forever and sleep rose up and pulled him down into oblivion.
9Koki woke up before even Kame would normally be up, a different kind of pale coming in between the spaces between the blinds: pre-dawn, light rising, filling up the air before the first fingers of the sun had a chance to break bright and fiery against the eastern sky. Sure enough, Kame was still asleep stretched out on his side on Koki's right, facing him, soft breaths sending the end of a lock of hair up in soft puffs away from his face. But there was a long warm line stretched out behind him as well, spreading heat across Koki's back.
Koki turned carefully around on the bed, heart unreasonably in his throat, like he was dreaming, like Jin wasn't actually going to be there when he got there. The movement woke Jin up, eyes full of leftover edges of sleep, but he smiled a little to return the grin Koki couldn't help but break into. "Hey, you," Jin said, an almost-whisper, hardly more than a breath of air against Koki's skin.
"Hey yourself," Koki says back, and it comes out with no voice at all, even though he'd meant to say it aloud, sleep-gunk clogging his throat. Koki slipped one foot between Jin's ankles, and Jin moved to drape an arm over Koki's waist, palm resting on the fold of blanket over Kame's hip. 10And the sun finally broke into brilliance over the edge of the horizon.
prompts: 1. us and them, 2. eclipse, 3. another brick, 4. on the run, 5. hills, 6. have a cigar, 7. brain damage, 8. i'm not afraid of dying, 9. cash, 10. football
word count: 648
1There's 'us', and there's 'them', and the lines blur sometimes, until Kame can't tell which is which and who's supposed to be in what group. 2Sometimes Kame feels like if he could have stared straight into it, he'd be able to pick out a thin clear line, a border uncrossable, right before the flaring sun burnt his eyes out.
3Kame waits outside the back of the studio building for Yamapi to get out of filming. Jin's at home, supposedly, if home is what you could call it. Kame's not sure. He traces down another brick with his eyes, follows the course of the mortar down, 4like running down the pentracks in nobuta: flower, water, flower, water. Only this time the words are 'yes, no, yes, no' and Kame gets to the bottom of the wall before he finds his answer. He wishes he still smoked.
Kame turns away from the wall abruptly, and walks to the mouth of the alley. He needed air. 5Pressed in between the studio buildings suddenly too much like being caught in a canyon cut into the hills by a long dead stream. Landscapes like they don't get in Japan. Something out of the red American desert. Something strange and foreign and beautiful. 6Something alien and deadly, with iron railroad tracks carving up the dry ground and black iron engines hurtling over the country, fat tycoons smoking their cigars and blind to the countryside around them inside. Train compartment filling with smoke the way the train filled the sky.
7Kame doesn't hear Yamapi when he finally comes out, and twitches like an idiot when he feels a hand on his shoulder. There's no reason he should have expected Yamapi to bang the door open; he's not Jin. And he's not with Jin right now, which makes most of the difference. Yamapi's quieter apart. These kinds of things. He doesn't know what to do with them, doesn't know how to hold them. It's like he's going out of his head, like he took a blow to the brain and it doesn't work right anymore because he knows this should be so much simpler--he just can't find the connections.
8He's not afraid of dying, but Kame is afraid of this. Dying is a one time thing. You give up, and then you're done. This is like being asked to lie down every hour of every day for the rest of your life, which, since you're not dying, might be a really long time. He doesn't know how to give in like that, and every moment is a fight: with Yamapi, with Jin, with himself. With himself. With the other two, there isn't any real struggle at all. That's in his head.
"You coming?" Yamapi's moved around in front of Kame now, face turned back over his shoulder to catch Kame's eye. Yamapi's eyes crinkle at the corner, happy maybe. Kame's brain stutters over that because he doesn't know what to do with it, can't process potential meanings, and certainly can't toss it away.
"Yeah," Kame says, belated, "Yeah." He climbs into the back of the cab some PA had ordered for Yamapi. Yamapi slides forward far enough to give the driver his--their address, then flops back against the leather upholstery. Kame looks out the window on his side the entire forty-eight minute trip, but his hand creeps over the middle seat towards Yamapi until Yamapi gets the picture and catches it with his own fingers. 9Kame pays the driver, in cash, and slides across the seats to get out on Yamapi's side. Kame won't let go of Yamapi's hand.
10Jin's waiting for them upstairs, football on mute flickering on the television. Kame doesn't know what he's doing well enough to figure out if it's worth it. He figures that doesn't matter, because he's going to keep doing it anyway. He can't throw them away.