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writetomyheart2014-09-24 09:15 pm
rikikomori.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2014-09-24 09:15 pm
[team five] shori and the beanstalk
kicking off go-team with some nonsexual ridiculousness, as is the norm with me lately. also tomorrow is my 2 year shiritoriversary. \o/ thanks for putting up with me for so long!
since the other riidas are throwing out their business, my precious team members (or anyone, really) can contact me on twitter @rinapocalypso or email riyoshiyo@gmail.com for whatever. /shines crown
“Beanstalks,” Yamada says wisely, “are fun to climb.”
Shori blinks and looks around, wondering if his senpai is talking to someone else. Kento, perhaps, who would hang on his every word regardless of how much sense it makes, but Shori is in the bathroom alone.
“Oh?” Shori replies conversationally, hoping that’s the end of it. It’s seriously awkward to talk to other dudes at the urinal.
“You have one, right?” Yamada goes on, and the only thing that could make this situation more uncomfortable is Yamada glancing over toward him.
“Yeah, sure,” Shori agrees quickly.
Yamada flashes a smile that’s the creepiest thing Shori has ever seen. “I hear the Kansai ones are the best.”
He’s gone in the whoosh of a flush, leaving Shori with his thoughts in his head and his junk in his hand. Quickly he finishes his business and returns to his group, what’s left of it anyway, and he must have an interesting look on his face because both Fuuma and Kento turn to stare at him as he walks in.
“Do either of you have any idea why Yamada-senpai would suddenly talk to me about beanstalks?” Shori asks.
Kento clearly holds back a smile and Fuuma doesn’t even try.
“He would know,” Fuuma scoffs. “He’s got a pretty nice one.”
“Hey!” Kento exclaims, slapping Fuuma on the shoulder. “Wrong Nakajima!”
“I thought we had a Jump clause!” Fuuma exclaims defensively. “You know you wish you were taller so your admired senpai could climb you.”
Usually Shori ignores their lovers’ spats, resenting for the millionth time that the other two members aren’t here to suffer with him, but something Fuuma just said clicks in his head. “Beanstalks are people?!”
Kento gets that look on his face that he got when Takahashi Kaito found a condom packet backstage and asked him what it was, but Fuuma just rolls his eyes.
“He’s almost eighteen, for fuck’s sake,” Fuuma says to Kento, then turns to Shori. “Beanstalks are excessively tall people whom you can climb.”
Shori blinks. “’Kay.”
That seems to be the end of that; Kento lets out a sigh of relief when Shori doesn’t ask any more questions. The three of them get to work and Shori doesn’t think about beanstalks again until the next time they film Shounen Club.
“Oh,” he says out loud as he strains his neck to look up at Kotaki. “You’re Kansai.”
Kotaki gives him a strange look, and justifiably so since Shori’s been sending him messages in gratuitous Kansai dialect for months now. “Yes?”
It all makes sense now. “You’re my beanstalk!” Shori declares. “I think I’m supposed to climb you.”
Now Kotaki’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “Here?”
“Is that not…” Shori trails off as his eyes widen. “Wait, it’s a sex thing, isn’t it?! Those assholes…”
Kotaki bursts out laughing and Shori almost punches him until Kotaki hits his head on the doorframe and Shori feels like justice has been served. Unimpressed, he folds his arms and waits for Kotaki to finish howling, which doesn’t quite happen as Kotaki struggles to breathe through his amusement.
“Tell me—” Kotaki wheezes out. “—everything.”
The instant Shori mentions Yamada, Kotaki makes a noise of understanding, which just frustrates Shori even more because he should have known that nothing coming from that guy could be any less than perverted. “Then Fuuma said that beanstalks are for climbing and oh my god you were actually going to do it?!”
“What?” Kotaki asks, shaking his head at the whirlwind of words thrown at him. “Do what?”
“All you did was question the location like that’s the only problem you had with it!” Shori accuses. “Does that mean you’d let me climb you like that if we were somewhere else?”
Kotaki shrugs. “Sure, why not? It’s fun for us too, you know. Being climbed, I mean.”
Shori opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing making its way out. “I don’t know how to process this,” he finally says.
“Calm down,” Kotaki tells him. “That’s not what you meant, so don’t worry about it. Here.”
He kneels down and leans forward, gesturing for Shori to get on his back, and for all of Shori’s internal sputter about being almost eighteen and too old for piggy-back rides, he scrambles to grab onto Kotaki’s shoulders and wrap his legs around Kotaki’s waist. His breath hitches as Kotaki stands up straight and Shori can see the dust on all of the light fixtures.
“The air smells different up here,” he comments, feeling Kotaki’s resulting chuckle everywhere they make contact. “Where are we going?”
“Wherever you want to go,” Kotaki answers evasively. “We still have some time before rehearsal starts.”
“Outside,” Shori breathes, the exhilarating feeling of being weightless taking him over. “I want to go outside.”
It’s chilly for autumn and neither one of them have their jackets, but Shori’s nothing but comfortable as he’s whisked around the building. Kotaki’s hardly walking any faster than usual, his long legs carrying them both at a brisk pace as Shori reaches out toward the nearby trees to pick off the colorful leaves that haven’t fallen yet.
This is nothing like when his parents and older siblings would carry him this way as a child; it’s definitely a different type of feeling that has Shori clinging to Kotaki’s back, resting his chin on Kotaki’s shoulder and breathing in the fruity shampoo that’s mixed with whatever sweat Kotaki has conjured up thus far. It’s nice, serene, the question of trust not even occurring to Shori despite the fact that Kotaki could drop him at any time.
Soon Shori isn’t even paying attention to the scenery anymore, his eyes falling shut as his focus centers on Kotaki himself. It’s no secret that Kotaki isn’t fazed by physical affection, caught more than once in a lip lock with one of his bandmates for no apparent reason. Shori envies how open he is about things that Shori can’t even bring himself to think about, let alone actually do.
“Shori.”
“Hmm?”
They’ve stopped moving, which Shori takes a few seconds to notice as he returns from whatever subconscious state into which he’d fallen. They’re on the side of the building where there are nothing but trees, the red and gold leaves surrounding them as the crisp air gives Shori a shiver now that he’s no longer in motion.
“You’re freezing,” Kotaki mutters, and Shori’s protests are hissed through chattering teeth as his weight shifts around. “Relax, I’m not trying to do anything weird to you.”
Shori blinks at that, the thought not even crossing his mind as he’s pulled into warm arms. Kotaki must have turned him around, a steady heartbeat thumping against his chest now, and all he can think is that they fit much better this way.
“It would be okay if you did.”
The words come out on their own but Shori doesn’t regret them, not with as good as this feels. His next chill has nothing to do with the temperature, even when he feels a cold wall against his back. An equally as cold nose brushes his cheek and he gasps at the contact, lifting his head to return the favor. His own face feels hot next to Kotaki’s, which Shori nuzzles against in an attempt to warm him up.
“Let’s start with this,” Kotaki says, hot breath tingling Shori’s skin enough to distract him from the words. Shori vaguely registers the contact of Kotaki’s face disappearing, but he’s not at all prepared for soft lips pressing against his and the squeak that escapes from his lungs would be embarrassing if he could think clearly.
He feels Kotaki smile, but the slightly older boy doesn’t pull back to tease him; instead, he tightens his hold on Shori as more than just holding him up, pressing him further against the wall as their kiss deepens. Shori’s completely squished, but he doesn’t mind when it means Kotaki is so close, each twitch and shudder detected as one of Shori’s hands slide up the back of Kotaki’s neck into his hair.
“I see the appeal,” is all Shori can think of to say when he can breathe his own air again, his heart pounding between his ears.
“You can climb me anytime,” Kotaki tells him, and it sounds so dirty that Shori’s face is still burning when they reluctantly return to their respective dressing rooms. Kento purposely ignores it, but Fuuma’s grin is so wide that Akito calls him on it on stage in front of everyone.
“Ask your youngest,” Fuuma replies with a gratuitous wink, and Kotakiputs on an innocent face that fools no one.
“Everyone probably thinks you have something going on with him now,” Shori hisses during a junior performance, surprised at how jealous it comes out.
“As if I’d go Kansai,” Fuuma scoffs, and Kento just rolls his eyes as he adjusts the feathers on his costume. “That beanstalk is all yours.”
Takahashi Kaito looks up from where he’s tying his shoes and offers them all a big grin. “Once you go Kansai, you never go back.”
→ you're up,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chankapana! ☺
since the other riidas are throwing out their business, my precious team members (or anyone, really) can contact me on twitter @rinapocalypso or email riyoshiyo@gmail.com for whatever. /shines crown
“Beanstalks,” Yamada says wisely, “are fun to climb.”
Shori blinks and looks around, wondering if his senpai is talking to someone else. Kento, perhaps, who would hang on his every word regardless of how much sense it makes, but Shori is in the bathroom alone.
“Oh?” Shori replies conversationally, hoping that’s the end of it. It’s seriously awkward to talk to other dudes at the urinal.
“You have one, right?” Yamada goes on, and the only thing that could make this situation more uncomfortable is Yamada glancing over toward him.
“Yeah, sure,” Shori agrees quickly.
Yamada flashes a smile that’s the creepiest thing Shori has ever seen. “I hear the Kansai ones are the best.”
He’s gone in the whoosh of a flush, leaving Shori with his thoughts in his head and his junk in his hand. Quickly he finishes his business and returns to his group, what’s left of it anyway, and he must have an interesting look on his face because both Fuuma and Kento turn to stare at him as he walks in.
“Do either of you have any idea why Yamada-senpai would suddenly talk to me about beanstalks?” Shori asks.
Kento clearly holds back a smile and Fuuma doesn’t even try.
“He would know,” Fuuma scoffs. “He’s got a pretty nice one.”
“Hey!” Kento exclaims, slapping Fuuma on the shoulder. “Wrong Nakajima!”
“I thought we had a Jump clause!” Fuuma exclaims defensively. “You know you wish you were taller so your admired senpai could climb you.”
Usually Shori ignores their lovers’ spats, resenting for the millionth time that the other two members aren’t here to suffer with him, but something Fuuma just said clicks in his head. “Beanstalks are people?!”
Kento gets that look on his face that he got when Takahashi Kaito found a condom packet backstage and asked him what it was, but Fuuma just rolls his eyes.
“He’s almost eighteen, for fuck’s sake,” Fuuma says to Kento, then turns to Shori. “Beanstalks are excessively tall people whom you can climb.”
Shori blinks. “’Kay.”
That seems to be the end of that; Kento lets out a sigh of relief when Shori doesn’t ask any more questions. The three of them get to work and Shori doesn’t think about beanstalks again until the next time they film Shounen Club.
“Oh,” he says out loud as he strains his neck to look up at Kotaki. “You’re Kansai.”
Kotaki gives him a strange look, and justifiably so since Shori’s been sending him messages in gratuitous Kansai dialect for months now. “Yes?”
It all makes sense now. “You’re my beanstalk!” Shori declares. “I think I’m supposed to climb you.”
Now Kotaki’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “Here?”
“Is that not…” Shori trails off as his eyes widen. “Wait, it’s a sex thing, isn’t it?! Those assholes…”
Kotaki bursts out laughing and Shori almost punches him until Kotaki hits his head on the doorframe and Shori feels like justice has been served. Unimpressed, he folds his arms and waits for Kotaki to finish howling, which doesn’t quite happen as Kotaki struggles to breathe through his amusement.
“Tell me—” Kotaki wheezes out. “—everything.”
The instant Shori mentions Yamada, Kotaki makes a noise of understanding, which just frustrates Shori even more because he should have known that nothing coming from that guy could be any less than perverted. “Then Fuuma said that beanstalks are for climbing and oh my god you were actually going to do it?!”
“What?” Kotaki asks, shaking his head at the whirlwind of words thrown at him. “Do what?”
“All you did was question the location like that’s the only problem you had with it!” Shori accuses. “Does that mean you’d let me climb you like that if we were somewhere else?”
Kotaki shrugs. “Sure, why not? It’s fun for us too, you know. Being climbed, I mean.”
Shori opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing making its way out. “I don’t know how to process this,” he finally says.
“Calm down,” Kotaki tells him. “That’s not what you meant, so don’t worry about it. Here.”
He kneels down and leans forward, gesturing for Shori to get on his back, and for all of Shori’s internal sputter about being almost eighteen and too old for piggy-back rides, he scrambles to grab onto Kotaki’s shoulders and wrap his legs around Kotaki’s waist. His breath hitches as Kotaki stands up straight and Shori can see the dust on all of the light fixtures.
“The air smells different up here,” he comments, feeling Kotaki’s resulting chuckle everywhere they make contact. “Where are we going?”
“Wherever you want to go,” Kotaki answers evasively. “We still have some time before rehearsal starts.”
“Outside,” Shori breathes, the exhilarating feeling of being weightless taking him over. “I want to go outside.”
It’s chilly for autumn and neither one of them have their jackets, but Shori’s nothing but comfortable as he’s whisked around the building. Kotaki’s hardly walking any faster than usual, his long legs carrying them both at a brisk pace as Shori reaches out toward the nearby trees to pick off the colorful leaves that haven’t fallen yet.
This is nothing like when his parents and older siblings would carry him this way as a child; it’s definitely a different type of feeling that has Shori clinging to Kotaki’s back, resting his chin on Kotaki’s shoulder and breathing in the fruity shampoo that’s mixed with whatever sweat Kotaki has conjured up thus far. It’s nice, serene, the question of trust not even occurring to Shori despite the fact that Kotaki could drop him at any time.
Soon Shori isn’t even paying attention to the scenery anymore, his eyes falling shut as his focus centers on Kotaki himself. It’s no secret that Kotaki isn’t fazed by physical affection, caught more than once in a lip lock with one of his bandmates for no apparent reason. Shori envies how open he is about things that Shori can’t even bring himself to think about, let alone actually do.
“Shori.”
“Hmm?”
They’ve stopped moving, which Shori takes a few seconds to notice as he returns from whatever subconscious state into which he’d fallen. They’re on the side of the building where there are nothing but trees, the red and gold leaves surrounding them as the crisp air gives Shori a shiver now that he’s no longer in motion.
“You’re freezing,” Kotaki mutters, and Shori’s protests are hissed through chattering teeth as his weight shifts around. “Relax, I’m not trying to do anything weird to you.”
Shori blinks at that, the thought not even crossing his mind as he’s pulled into warm arms. Kotaki must have turned him around, a steady heartbeat thumping against his chest now, and all he can think is that they fit much better this way.
“It would be okay if you did.”
The words come out on their own but Shori doesn’t regret them, not with as good as this feels. His next chill has nothing to do with the temperature, even when he feels a cold wall against his back. An equally as cold nose brushes his cheek and he gasps at the contact, lifting his head to return the favor. His own face feels hot next to Kotaki’s, which Shori nuzzles against in an attempt to warm him up.
“Let’s start with this,” Kotaki says, hot breath tingling Shori’s skin enough to distract him from the words. Shori vaguely registers the contact of Kotaki’s face disappearing, but he’s not at all prepared for soft lips pressing against his and the squeak that escapes from his lungs would be embarrassing if he could think clearly.
He feels Kotaki smile, but the slightly older boy doesn’t pull back to tease him; instead, he tightens his hold on Shori as more than just holding him up, pressing him further against the wall as their kiss deepens. Shori’s completely squished, but he doesn’t mind when it means Kotaki is so close, each twitch and shudder detected as one of Shori’s hands slide up the back of Kotaki’s neck into his hair.
“I see the appeal,” is all Shori can think of to say when he can breathe his own air again, his heart pounding between his ears.
“You can climb me anytime,” Kotaki tells him, and it sounds so dirty that Shori’s face is still burning when they reluctantly return to their respective dressing rooms. Kento purposely ignores it, but Fuuma’s grin is so wide that Akito calls him on it on stage in front of everyone.
“Ask your youngest,” Fuuma replies with a gratuitous wink, and Kotakiputs on an innocent face that fools no one.
“Everyone probably thinks you have something going on with him now,” Shori hisses during a junior performance, surprised at how jealous it comes out.
“As if I’d go Kansai,” Fuuma scoffs, and Kento just rolls his eyes as he adjusts the feathers on his costume. “That beanstalk is all yours.”
Takahashi Kaito looks up from where he’s tying his shoes and offers them all a big grin. “Once you go Kansai, you never go back.”
→ you're up,
chankapana! ☺
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