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writetomyheart2019-07-27 06:20 pm
defiancebyfire.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2019-07-27 06:20 pm
[team three] Fragments
LATE. but i didn't want to skip no matter what. Something from Ensemble Stars.
“You are the worst,” Keito accuses his roommate, without emotion, as he starts emptying the contents of his suitcase on the double bed. Unpacking luggage had always been a chore, but it was proving to be an especially heavy task right now, and he just wants to be back home, even though they had only arrived.
He would like to think that he was somewhat coerced to go on this trip, built on promises that it would be a nice change of pace after weeks of being stuck at home. Plus, they had never been on any real, long-distance vacations since...well, ever, what with Eichi’s health being worth next to nothing, added to the burden of running the Yumenosaki student body (which was finally over, thank God).
So yes, Keito had somehow been convinced that a 12-hour flight to London and a getaway week was something they both needed.
What Eichi had conveniently forgotten to tell him was that he would be third-wheeling on this trip, because Sakuma Rei and his unitmate were in the middle of their European tour, and they had invited some friends to watch their UK shows.
Which meant Hibiki Wataru was here. And Keito was a smokescreen, in attendance only so that the owners of the Tenshouin empire would say yes to their son traipsing after his not-boyfriend in another continent.
“It’s not so bad,” Eichi answers, by the dresser, completely fixated on the few knick-knacks the hotel staff had put in their room. He slightly shakes the snowglobe, eyes crinkling in amusement when styrofoam snowflakes rain over the gingerbread house model. He turns to face Keito with a small smile, offering the glass globe as a symbol of truce. “Look, it’s winter.”
Keito considers his friend, then the sorry state of the clothing on his own bed, a haphazard tower of pressed shirts about to topple over. He picks up a scarf from the tangled mess of other items and hands it over to Eichi, in exchange for the Christmas token. “Wear it, then. Unless you want to get a cold and send us both back to Japan before the weekend.”
The cloth is light but warm in Eichi’s hands, a vivid blue, cobalt, his mind supplies. To bring out his eyes. An ingrained habit perhaps, but the gesture is not lost on him. Expected, surprising, and pleasant, the cocktail of feelings coursing through his nerves and settling somewhere in his chest.
“You overpacked again,” he avoids Keito’s eyes, looping the scarf over his neck once, twice instead; the softness of the material lingers on his fingertips.
So much of their friendship had revolved around the two of them not having anyone else but each other while growing up. That, and their morbid inside joke of Keito being his executioner.
Would things be better, their connection not running frayed and so close to breaking, if there had been someone else between them back then?
Eichi figures that wondering about what-ifs is pointless, given the way things have turned out. Keito willingly followed his whims, both in the past and now. They had both finished high school, and somehow, the stubborn threads linking them had still hung on, fragile but unbroken.
Keito had even decided their friendship was worth traveling across continents together, despite the obvious discomfort he'd had all throughout the flight.
“What’s wrong.” Keito’s voice sounds tired, too, lacking the usual sternness Eichi is used to.
“Mm?”
“You were spacing out,” Keito says, one eyebrow raised in question. “Feeling okay?”
Concern for his well-being. Not so stifling, not anymore. Out of habit. Or his own volition, maybe. Eichi doesn’t know yet, but he has all of their trip to figure out. He stretches his neck and angles his head a little to emphasize the scarf. “How does it look?”
next up is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
faded_lace
“You are the worst,” Keito accuses his roommate, without emotion, as he starts emptying the contents of his suitcase on the double bed. Unpacking luggage had always been a chore, but it was proving to be an especially heavy task right now, and he just wants to be back home, even though they had only arrived.
He would like to think that he was somewhat coerced to go on this trip, built on promises that it would be a nice change of pace after weeks of being stuck at home. Plus, they had never been on any real, long-distance vacations since...well, ever, what with Eichi’s health being worth next to nothing, added to the burden of running the Yumenosaki student body (which was finally over, thank God).
So yes, Keito had somehow been convinced that a 12-hour flight to London and a getaway week was something they both needed.
What Eichi had conveniently forgotten to tell him was that he would be third-wheeling on this trip, because Sakuma Rei and his unitmate were in the middle of their European tour, and they had invited some friends to watch their UK shows.
Which meant Hibiki Wataru was here. And Keito was a smokescreen, in attendance only so that the owners of the Tenshouin empire would say yes to their son traipsing after his not-boyfriend in another continent.
“It’s not so bad,” Eichi answers, by the dresser, completely fixated on the few knick-knacks the hotel staff had put in their room. He slightly shakes the snowglobe, eyes crinkling in amusement when styrofoam snowflakes rain over the gingerbread house model. He turns to face Keito with a small smile, offering the glass globe as a symbol of truce. “Look, it’s winter.”
Keito considers his friend, then the sorry state of the clothing on his own bed, a haphazard tower of pressed shirts about to topple over. He picks up a scarf from the tangled mess of other items and hands it over to Eichi, in exchange for the Christmas token. “Wear it, then. Unless you want to get a cold and send us both back to Japan before the weekend.”
The cloth is light but warm in Eichi’s hands, a vivid blue, cobalt, his mind supplies. To bring out his eyes. An ingrained habit perhaps, but the gesture is not lost on him. Expected, surprising, and pleasant, the cocktail of feelings coursing through his nerves and settling somewhere in his chest.
“You overpacked again,” he avoids Keito’s eyes, looping the scarf over his neck once, twice instead; the softness of the material lingers on his fingertips.
So much of their friendship had revolved around the two of them not having anyone else but each other while growing up. That, and their morbid inside joke of Keito being his executioner.
Would things be better, their connection not running frayed and so close to breaking, if there had been someone else between them back then?
Eichi figures that wondering about what-ifs is pointless, given the way things have turned out. Keito willingly followed his whims, both in the past and now. They had both finished high school, and somehow, the stubborn threads linking them had still hung on, fragile but unbroken.
Keito had even decided their friendship was worth traveling across continents together, despite the obvious discomfort he'd had all throughout the flight.
“What’s wrong.” Keito’s voice sounds tired, too, lacking the usual sternness Eichi is used to.
“Mm?”
“You were spacing out,” Keito says, one eyebrow raised in question. “Feeling okay?”
Concern for his well-being. Not so stifling, not anymore. Out of habit. Or his own volition, maybe. Eichi doesn’t know yet, but he has all of their trip to figure out. He stretches his neck and angles his head a little to emphasize the scarf. “How does it look?”
next up is
faded_lace