60-120-120: 106: xxxHOLIC
Title: Trains
Day/Theme: July 11: Size was never so daunting.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Character/Pairing: Doumeki, Watanuki, can be seen as gay. Cough.
Rating: Gen
Note: For factorielle, because dead, spazzing Watanuki made my day. Also, very random. And run-on, because I wanted to try the style.
Yuuko had, as she was wont to do because she was evil and vile and all the words in between, sent them to the ends of the Earth - well, the city, actually -- again for a measly package from a hostile rose bush and after all the running and screaming (mostly Watanuki) and trekking in the middle of the afternoon with the sun thumping down on their heads, they couldn’t even rack up enough karma points to get a seat in the train.
Well, they did have seats a while ago, but pregnant ladies were common this time of the year, so. Scratch that. Why couldn’t he have enough karma to not be stuck in a crowded train during rush hour with Doumeki of all people?
Spirits. Right.
“Stop pushing!” the bespectacled boy snapped, wobbling as the train trudged on. Doumeki adjusted his grip on the overhead pole and shifted to give Watanuki more space.
It was a good thing they were both guys or people would start mistaking them as a couple, then where would he be, with people thinking he had bad taste in girls, because he just knew Doumeki would look horrendous as a lady. Doumeki, Watanuki thought viciously as he adjusted the package against his chest, would probably be taller than him as a girl, too, the giant freak.
More people were coming in, but at least some were going out. Doumeki had dragged - no, manhandled him over to the corner and stuck him there in a nook before taking up the space between Watanuki and the rest of the train. If it had been any other guy, Watanuki might have thanked him, but as it was, all it was doing was squishing the package - and consequently, his arms - between them. In Japanese trains during rush hour, space was a pleasure that the driver and only the driver could enjoy.
“Hn.”
“What?” Watanuki asked warily, watching with a raised eyebrow as the tall lumbering freak of a spirit-repellant adjusted his arm from holding on to the pole above them to rest on the train wall just next to Watanuki’s head. “Why are you putting that there? Do you want me to smell your armpits! Oh my god, you jock!”
“My arm’s sore,” Doumeki said simply, cutting off all protests.
“Oh. Well, that would be your fault. You could just put your arms down, you know, but you won’t because you always have to show off, you great big je-OI. WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOUMEKI!”
“Putting my arms down,” was, again, the simple answer.
“THE PACKAGE IS BEING SQUISHED! What if we need to go back for a new one! If you damage this, I will feed you duck feet for lunch everyday for a month! No, a year!” Watanuki yelled hotly, turning his head to the side to avoid screaming into Doumeki’s neck because god, the stupid jerk probably stank from all that running around earlier. If he could use his arms properly, he’d smack the archer upside the head - but after he fixed his eyeglasses first - but then he might drop the package and that was a far worse thing than being squished.
“Sounds good.”
“DOUMEKI YOU FREAK! It’s HOT! Move, will you!”
“You were the one who suggested this.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN FOR YOU TO SQUISH ME!”
“It’s not my fault you’re so skinny.”
“GOD. YOU ARE SO RETARDED!”
And then Doumeki proceeded to do what Watanuki never thought any normal person could do before: He went to nap standing up, his chin on Watanuki’s shoulder and a finger in his ear. If Watanuki didn’t care about hygiene so much he’d BITE the jerk to get him off him.
“GOD YOU ARE SUCH A FREAK!”
------
8:30PM 07/09/2007
Day/Theme: July 11: Size was never so daunting.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Character/Pairing: Doumeki, Watanuki, can be seen as gay. Cough.
Rating: Gen
Note: For factorielle, because dead, spazzing Watanuki made my day. Also, very random. And run-on, because I wanted to try the style.
Yuuko had, as she was wont to do because she was evil and vile and all the words in between, sent them to the ends of the Earth - well, the city, actually -- again for a measly package from a hostile rose bush and after all the running and screaming (mostly Watanuki) and trekking in the middle of the afternoon with the sun thumping down on their heads, they couldn’t even rack up enough karma points to get a seat in the train.
Well, they did have seats a while ago, but pregnant ladies were common this time of the year, so. Scratch that. Why couldn’t he have enough karma to not be stuck in a crowded train during rush hour with Doumeki of all people?
Spirits. Right.
“Stop pushing!” the bespectacled boy snapped, wobbling as the train trudged on. Doumeki adjusted his grip on the overhead pole and shifted to give Watanuki more space.
It was a good thing they were both guys or people would start mistaking them as a couple, then where would he be, with people thinking he had bad taste in girls, because he just knew Doumeki would look horrendous as a lady. Doumeki, Watanuki thought viciously as he adjusted the package against his chest, would probably be taller than him as a girl, too, the giant freak.
More people were coming in, but at least some were going out. Doumeki had dragged - no, manhandled him over to the corner and stuck him there in a nook before taking up the space between Watanuki and the rest of the train. If it had been any other guy, Watanuki might have thanked him, but as it was, all it was doing was squishing the package - and consequently, his arms - between them. In Japanese trains during rush hour, space was a pleasure that the driver and only the driver could enjoy.
“Hn.”
“What?” Watanuki asked warily, watching with a raised eyebrow as the tall lumbering freak of a spirit-repellant adjusted his arm from holding on to the pole above them to rest on the train wall just next to Watanuki’s head. “Why are you putting that there? Do you want me to smell your armpits! Oh my god, you jock!”
“My arm’s sore,” Doumeki said simply, cutting off all protests.
“Oh. Well, that would be your fault. You could just put your arms down, you know, but you won’t because you always have to show off, you great big je-OI. WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOUMEKI!”
“Putting my arms down,” was, again, the simple answer.
“THE PACKAGE IS BEING SQUISHED! What if we need to go back for a new one! If you damage this, I will feed you duck feet for lunch everyday for a month! No, a year!” Watanuki yelled hotly, turning his head to the side to avoid screaming into Doumeki’s neck because god, the stupid jerk probably stank from all that running around earlier. If he could use his arms properly, he’d smack the archer upside the head - but after he fixed his eyeglasses first - but then he might drop the package and that was a far worse thing than being squished.
“Sounds good.”
“DOUMEKI YOU FREAK! It’s HOT! Move, will you!”
“You were the one who suggested this.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN FOR YOU TO SQUISH ME!”
“It’s not my fault you’re so skinny.”
“GOD. YOU ARE SO RETARDED!”
And then Doumeki proceeded to do what Watanuki never thought any normal person could do before: He went to nap standing up, his chin on Watanuki’s shoulder and a finger in his ear. If Watanuki didn’t care about hygiene so much he’d BITE the jerk to get him off him.
“GOD YOU ARE SUCH A FREAK!”
------
8:30PM 07/09/2007