(no subject)
So I haven't been able to write anything for a while until itsmysunshine gave me the prompt: Yama pair, dance partners, and linked me to this little gem.
Short crack yama pair drabble, written in less than an hour and with no time to edit for now so um pardon my mistakes.
As they performed an impromptu dance on Shiyagare, everyone snickered at their silly antics. It was meant to be fun and spontaneous, filled with spins, out-stretched arms, and two-step hip movements. And it was - but to Sho, it was more than just making a spectacle of himself and creating laughter in the studio.
It was a fun and spontaneous dance with Satoshi.
The older man had dancing in his blood, those pops, locks and fluid motions leaving Sho hot and parched for more, more, so much more. As a fellow bandmate, Sho thoroughly enjoyed the fortune (and pleasure) of watching Satoshi plan his next choreograph in front of a full mirror, sweat trailing down his cheek, teeth worrying at those full, pouty lips.
“You don’t have to stay,” Satoshi would tell him.
“You still owe me from our last dinner,” Sho would reply, making a great pretense of looking over a script for News Zero.
And then they would leave for dinner later, with Sho footing the bill.
Yet, now, here they were on set: comedians, guest and bandmates making jibes at their expense, while Satoshi - Satoshi who made the robot look like sex on the dance floor - happily followed Sho’s goofy, amateur moves, faltering just one step behind. Sho, heart swelling, took the lead with gusto, washed in the trust Satoshi had in his skill for looking extraordinarily ridiculous on national television (“But not as ridiculous as me; I have an image to maintain,” Aiba warned).
“Nice moves,” Satoshi told him after the show.
“For a mating ritual,” said Nino.
“Like chickens,” Aiba added. “They totally do that.”
“What, fan out their sexual tension for the world to see?” said Nino. “That’s more like peacocks, eh, Jun?”
“And why the hell would I know of the mating rituals of peacocks?” said Jun.
“Oh, I know the answer!” yelled Aiba, his arm shooting into the air. “Pick me, pick me!”
“Dinner?” said Sho, just as Jun slapped both Aiba and Nino across the head. Firmly gripping Satoshi by the arm, he tugged the older man out of the dressing room.
“Sure, partner,” said Satoshi.
Partner.
Sho looked down at Satoshi, cheeks heating up so fast, he was definitely blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush. It didn't help that Satoshi looked back with those dozy, half-lidded eyes, hovering on the edge of sensuous and sleepy. He was never gladder that they were outside and out of earshot from the rest of their crazy band.
“You could probably find a better dance partner, though,” said Sho, laughing awkwardly.
“But I chose to respond to your mating call,” Satoshi said.
Sho halted in his steps.
As though he hadn’t just said the strangest (and oddly seductive) line possible, Satoshi graced him with a soft smile, the flash of alertness vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “I think you make a prettier peacock than Jun.”
That night, they had ramen, Sho paid for the meal, and Satoshi soon explained to him, bare, open-mouthed, and in as few words as possible, what exactly he meant by the word ‘partner’.
To Arashi’s amusement and the surprise of Shiyagare’s staff, Sho was the most vocal in inviting more dancer aniki at the next meeting.
BONUS
“So who do you think is the hen?”
“Sho-chan, obviously. Brings a whole new meaning to ‘mother hen’.”
“Leader does do a great rooster crow. You think Sho-chan might lay eggs at some point?”
“Oh, sure, dancing Easter eggs. Brightly coloured and speckled with fairy dust, courtesy of Oh-chan’s fancy art genes.”
“NO ONE’S LAYING EGGS,” Sho shrieked.
“Aiba, Nino,” said Jun. “Leave the love birds alone.”
“Oh my god,” said Aiba, reaching over to slap a high-five with Jun. “Worst pun ever.”
At his usual seat in the dressing room, Satoshi smiled.
Short crack yama pair drabble, written in less than an hour and with no time to edit for now so um pardon my mistakes.
As they performed an impromptu dance on Shiyagare, everyone snickered at their silly antics. It was meant to be fun and spontaneous, filled with spins, out-stretched arms, and two-step hip movements. And it was - but to Sho, it was more than just making a spectacle of himself and creating laughter in the studio.
It was a fun and spontaneous dance with Satoshi.
The older man had dancing in his blood, those pops, locks and fluid motions leaving Sho hot and parched for more, more, so much more. As a fellow bandmate, Sho thoroughly enjoyed the fortune (and pleasure) of watching Satoshi plan his next choreograph in front of a full mirror, sweat trailing down his cheek, teeth worrying at those full, pouty lips.
“You don’t have to stay,” Satoshi would tell him.
“You still owe me from our last dinner,” Sho would reply, making a great pretense of looking over a script for News Zero.
And then they would leave for dinner later, with Sho footing the bill.
Yet, now, here they were on set: comedians, guest and bandmates making jibes at their expense, while Satoshi - Satoshi who made the robot look like sex on the dance floor - happily followed Sho’s goofy, amateur moves, faltering just one step behind. Sho, heart swelling, took the lead with gusto, washed in the trust Satoshi had in his skill for looking extraordinarily ridiculous on national television (“But not as ridiculous as me; I have an image to maintain,” Aiba warned).
“Nice moves,” Satoshi told him after the show.
“For a mating ritual,” said Nino.
“Like chickens,” Aiba added. “They totally do that.”
“What, fan out their sexual tension for the world to see?” said Nino. “That’s more like peacocks, eh, Jun?”
“And why the hell would I know of the mating rituals of peacocks?” said Jun.
“Oh, I know the answer!” yelled Aiba, his arm shooting into the air. “Pick me, pick me!”
“Dinner?” said Sho, just as Jun slapped both Aiba and Nino across the head. Firmly gripping Satoshi by the arm, he tugged the older man out of the dressing room.
“Sure, partner,” said Satoshi.
Partner.
Sho looked down at Satoshi, cheeks heating up so fast, he was definitely blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush. It didn't help that Satoshi looked back with those dozy, half-lidded eyes, hovering on the edge of sensuous and sleepy. He was never gladder that they were outside and out of earshot from the rest of their crazy band.
“You could probably find a better dance partner, though,” said Sho, laughing awkwardly.
“But I chose to respond to your mating call,” Satoshi said.
Sho halted in his steps.
As though he hadn’t just said the strangest (and oddly seductive) line possible, Satoshi graced him with a soft smile, the flash of alertness vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “I think you make a prettier peacock than Jun.”
That night, they had ramen, Sho paid for the meal, and Satoshi soon explained to him, bare, open-mouthed, and in as few words as possible, what exactly he meant by the word ‘partner’.
To Arashi’s amusement and the surprise of Shiyagare’s staff, Sho was the most vocal in inviting more dancer aniki at the next meeting.
BONUS
“So who do you think is the hen?”
“Sho-chan, obviously. Brings a whole new meaning to ‘mother hen’.”
“Leader does do a great rooster crow. You think Sho-chan might lay eggs at some point?”
“Oh, sure, dancing Easter eggs. Brightly coloured and speckled with fairy dust, courtesy of Oh-chan’s fancy art genes.”
“NO ONE’S LAYING EGGS,” Sho shrieked.
“Aiba, Nino,” said Jun. “Leave the love birds alone.”
“Oh my god,” said Aiba, reaching over to slap a high-five with Jun. “Worst pun ever.”
At his usual seat in the dressing room, Satoshi smiled.