Not a box (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} notabox) wrote,@ 2007-11-26 02:36:00 |
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| Entry tags: | aiba & jun, arashi, drabbles, one-shot |
[Arashi] Drabbles
I think I'll put all of my drabbles in one place, and just update this entry regularly. I only have Arashi drabbles at the moment, but should I start writing for another fandom (T&T sounds likely) I'll either put them here or in an entry on their own. These are all keyword drabbles I've had hanging around on my computer for about six months, so nothing here was written that recently. :)
On my list I still have "Dinner, Concert, Linked, Cigarettes" to write about. I wonder if I will actually ever get around to doing them, though!
Rain
They all worried about Masaki when the weather was bad. Developing a cold for him was more than a hindrance - it could put him out of commission for days. But when the skies opened without warning and the descending cold shower soaked them both to the point where they were laughing, clothing wrinkled and sticking to their skin, Jun couldn't bring himself to reprimand Aiba for not taking immediate cover. Though it was already unnecessary, he put up his small umbrella - a hand on the other man's waist - pulling Aiba closer with an easiness that he didn't feel on the inside. Fingertips pressed their warmth through the wet fabric as the two of them huddled together, nondescript under the umbrella's arc of protection from the cold.
Teddy Bear
There are things everyone has trouble letting go. Though he wouldn't like to admit it, Sho was one of those people who would cling with a fierce determination to relics of the past, ordinary objects that nonetheless held a wealth of feelings invested in them at some point in time. A watch; given to him by a friend whose name was long since forgotten, never worn with its batteries dead inside but nevertheless secretly treasured. Postcards from family and acquaintances, congratulating him on things he couldn't remember doing.
The most important of these items, a threadbare and sorry-looking stuffed animal, sat on his bed watching mutely from its one remaining glass eye. The stuffed toy - its species unrecognisable, perhaps a dog, or from this angle perhaps it was a bear? - had shared moments of pain and joy alike, been there through trials and triumph, listened when Sho needed to talk, remained comfortingly silent at times when nothing needed to be said. He was quietly unashamed of its sorry form taking pride of place on his bed, the one frivolous addition to an otherwise rather business-like bedroom. Even now, at age 25, he carefully placed it on the bedside table before he switched the light out, smiling at his silent companion before sleep presumably took them both.
Glasses
There was something decidedly special about the days when Jun chose to wear glasses. The warm frames softened his striking, at times cruelly angular features and made him seem delicate, vulnerable. The Jun who wore glasses was pliant in every way that before would seem rigid, as though looking out from behind the glass truly did allow him to see the world differently in a warmer, freer focus.
The effect does not pass unnoticed. On these rare, fragile days words are selected with care, softer, looks are lingering. The power of these inoffensive objects of plastic and glass is ethereal and pervasive, it colours all of their moods to the point where each of them want to be the one to remove the red frames from his face, carefully, the very act itself so intimate it almost seems sexual. For like all beauty, it inspires the desire in others to destroy it; removing the glasses would break the curious spell it held over them all, and so the frames remain delicately balanced on the bridge of his nose, and no-one says a word.
Comics
Aiba was insistently annoying when Nino was reading his comics, pressing in close over his shoulder as he turned the pages. The only one left with nothing to occupy himself, he tried to keep up with Nino's reading until eventually he gave up and flopped into a chair of his own, frustrated that he never quite finished the last panel before the page was turned.
They all worried about Masaki when the weather was bad. Developing a cold for him was more than a hindrance - it could put him out of commission for days. But when the skies opened without warning and the descending cold shower soaked them both to the point where they were laughing, clothing wrinkled and sticking to their skin, Jun couldn't bring himself to reprimand Aiba for not taking immediate cover. Though it was already unnecessary, he put up his small umbrella - a hand on the other man's waist - pulling Aiba closer with an easiness that he didn't feel on the inside. Fingertips pressed their warmth through the wet fabric as the two of them huddled together, nondescript under the umbrella's arc of protection from the cold.
Teddy Bear
There are things everyone has trouble letting go. Though he wouldn't like to admit it, Sho was one of those people who would cling with a fierce determination to relics of the past, ordinary objects that nonetheless held a wealth of feelings invested in them at some point in time. A watch; given to him by a friend whose name was long since forgotten, never worn with its batteries dead inside but nevertheless secretly treasured. Postcards from family and acquaintances, congratulating him on things he couldn't remember doing.
The most important of these items, a threadbare and sorry-looking stuffed animal, sat on his bed watching mutely from its one remaining glass eye. The stuffed toy - its species unrecognisable, perhaps a dog, or from this angle perhaps it was a bear? - had shared moments of pain and joy alike, been there through trials and triumph, listened when Sho needed to talk, remained comfortingly silent at times when nothing needed to be said. He was quietly unashamed of its sorry form taking pride of place on his bed, the one frivolous addition to an otherwise rather business-like bedroom. Even now, at age 25, he carefully placed it on the bedside table before he switched the light out, smiling at his silent companion before sleep presumably took them both.
Glasses
There was something decidedly special about the days when Jun chose to wear glasses. The warm frames softened his striking, at times cruelly angular features and made him seem delicate, vulnerable. The Jun who wore glasses was pliant in every way that before would seem rigid, as though looking out from behind the glass truly did allow him to see the world differently in a warmer, freer focus.
The effect does not pass unnoticed. On these rare, fragile days words are selected with care, softer, looks are lingering. The power of these inoffensive objects of plastic and glass is ethereal and pervasive, it colours all of their moods to the point where each of them want to be the one to remove the red frames from his face, carefully, the very act itself so intimate it almost seems sexual. For like all beauty, it inspires the desire in others to destroy it; removing the glasses would break the curious spell it held over them all, and so the frames remain delicately balanced on the bridge of his nose, and no-one says a word.
Comics
Aiba was insistently annoying when Nino was reading his comics, pressing in close over his shoulder as he turned the pages. The only one left with nothing to occupy himself, he tried to keep up with Nino's reading until eventually he gave up and flopped into a chair of his own, frustrated that he never quite finished the last panel before the page was turned.
