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writetomyheart2015-11-03 12:25 am
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2015-11-03 12:25 am
Entry tags:
[team sonic] deep in your love
Note: I was on time but LJ wouldn't cooperate ;;
deep in your love
First words from no worries.
Title from Sugar by Maroon 5
Inspired by a conversation with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lattelotus.
His phone as well as Bambam's are lying on the bed, Jackson shakes his head, wondering how his got there; Bambam's makes sense since it is his room, after all. He's just stepping over the threshold of the room, reaching for his phone, when he sees it.
His missing red hoodie, the one he likes to wear around the dorm, when no outside people can see, just him and his hoodie and snapback. Comfortable.
He's been missing it for weeks, and now here it is, only a tiny flash peering out from beneath Bambam's bed, it's possible he's mistaken but Jackson has a feeling and. . .as he leans down to get a closer look, reaching for the red fabric and pulling it out, he sees that it really is his hoodie, just as footsteps pound toward the doorframe.
Jackson looks up to see Bambam standing there, halfway in the hall, his face draining of colour as he sees Jackson holding the formerly missing sweater.
"You have my sweater," Jackson says. "I asked you if you'd seen it."
Bambam doesn't say anything for a moment, then he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he shrugs. It's a stiff shrug, not a real shrug. Pretending.
"Why did you take my hoodie?" Jackson says, on a hunch that it didn't just magically appear under his bed, and he's right, as Bambam starts to lean back and forth, almost colliding with the door frame.
"I wanted to wear it?" he says finally, but it sounds more like a question, like he's asking Jackson if he believes that story.
Jackson finds that he doesn't.
"I've never seen you in it," he says, stepping towards Bambam who looks even paler, if that's possible, but stands his ground.
"I. . " he begins, his voice fading away. Jackson tags another step, Bambam stumbling back awkwardly as he takes a deep breath—
"I like the way you smell," he says, finally, in a small voice, as though he's admitted to selling Jackson's personal belongings on the internet or sending photos to Dispatch.
Jackson blinks.
It's quiet, in the room, only the sound of their breathing.
Jackson thinks about Bambam wrapping himself in the red hoodie, smiling. He finds himself smiling too, somehow.
Bambam looks like he's scared Jackson's going to think he's gross or disgusting or just plain weird, so Jackson does what he does best. He reaches his arms out for a hug, Bambam opening his mouth to—Jackson's not sure, beg for mercy?—before Jackson's arms wind round Bambam's back and he rests his chin on Bambam's shoulder because Bambam is taller than he is now.
"Fresher at the source," Jackson says, and he doesn't have to look up to know that Bambam's cheeks are slowly flushing pink as he sinks into the hug. He just knows.
He just knows.
deep in your love
First words from no worries.
Title from Sugar by Maroon 5
Inspired by a conversation with
lattelotus.His phone as well as Bambam's are lying on the bed, Jackson shakes his head, wondering how his got there; Bambam's makes sense since it is his room, after all. He's just stepping over the threshold of the room, reaching for his phone, when he sees it.
His missing red hoodie, the one he likes to wear around the dorm, when no outside people can see, just him and his hoodie and snapback. Comfortable.
He's been missing it for weeks, and now here it is, only a tiny flash peering out from beneath Bambam's bed, it's possible he's mistaken but Jackson has a feeling and. . .as he leans down to get a closer look, reaching for the red fabric and pulling it out, he sees that it really is his hoodie, just as footsteps pound toward the doorframe.
Jackson looks up to see Bambam standing there, halfway in the hall, his face draining of colour as he sees Jackson holding the formerly missing sweater.
"You have my sweater," Jackson says. "I asked you if you'd seen it."
Bambam doesn't say anything for a moment, then he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he shrugs. It's a stiff shrug, not a real shrug. Pretending.
"Why did you take my hoodie?" Jackson says, on a hunch that it didn't just magically appear under his bed, and he's right, as Bambam starts to lean back and forth, almost colliding with the door frame.
"I wanted to wear it?" he says finally, but it sounds more like a question, like he's asking Jackson if he believes that story.
Jackson finds that he doesn't.
"I've never seen you in it," he says, stepping towards Bambam who looks even paler, if that's possible, but stands his ground.
"I. . " he begins, his voice fading away. Jackson tags another step, Bambam stumbling back awkwardly as he takes a deep breath—
"I like the way you smell," he says, finally, in a small voice, as though he's admitted to selling Jackson's personal belongings on the internet or sending photos to Dispatch.
Jackson blinks.
It's quiet, in the room, only the sound of their breathing.
Jackson thinks about Bambam wrapping himself in the red hoodie, smiling. He finds himself smiling too, somehow.
Bambam looks like he's scared Jackson's going to think he's gross or disgusting or just plain weird, so Jackson does what he does best. He reaches his arms out for a hug, Bambam opening his mouth to—Jackson's not sure, beg for mercy?—before Jackson's arms wind round Bambam's back and he rests his chin on Bambam's shoulder because Bambam is taller than he is now.
"Fresher at the source," Jackson says, and he doesn't have to look up to know that Bambam's cheeks are slowly flushing pink as he sinks into the hug. He just knows.