Pianissimo: 04 (La Corda d'Oro, Ryoutarou/Len)
Title: Pianissimo ~ A Violin & Piano Romance
04: A May-December Relationship
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairing: Eventual Ryoutarou Tsuchiura x Len Tsukimori
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Future fic. A series of one-shots and drabbles following the progression of the relationship between Ryoutarou and Len, from feuding roommates to friends to lovers.
Len liked it hot. He liked it really hot.
“Why?”
Len gave Ryoutarou a look over the big and complicated-looking novel he was reading. It was a look he’d perfected just days after moving in that meant “You just asked another stupid question.”
“That’s not a stupid question,” he insisted, sitting down on the couch and tugging the book down so he could see Len’s face. “You know what I mean-like the people who have to have blue colored walls because it reminds them of their mother’s eyes. That kind of thing.”
“…I just like heat.”
Ryoutarou frowned faintly as Len lifted the book back up to his face. He stood from the couch, paused momentarily, and turned around to face the violinist.
“You’re sure,” he said, “it’s not a subconscious way to combat that icy exterior of yours?”
Len gave him a look that meant “Shut up and leave me alone, please.”
So, Ryoutarou dealt with the heat, but he didn’t like it. He had his fill of heat when he was out on the field, playing, practicing, running for hours. He didn’t feel like sweating in his own apartment. Ryoutarou liked it cold. He liked it really cold.
They compromised, alternating days of who would control the thermostat. On the hot days, when Ryoutarou couldn’t stand it, he’d take his shirt off. Mostly because of the heat. Partly because-despite Len’s own immodesty-the violinist always had strange reactions when confronted with Ryoutarou’s half-naked form. Sometimes he’d scowl or scrunch his face up in a funny expression. And sometimes he turned an inexplicable shade of red. Ryoutarou had to admit he enjoyed that almost enough for the heat to be worth it. And on the cold days, Len wrapped a blanket around him like a cocoon and tended to sit so close to Ryoutarou, the pianist could’ve sworn he was attempting a snuggle.
During one of these cuddle attempts, Len chuckled quietly and asked, “So if my liking heat means I’m trying to melt my exterior, does this mean you’re trying to numb some part of yourself?”
Ryoutarou chuckled in response, but stopped, somewhat suddenly, considering.
“Maybe,” he said.
Len gave him another look, then, but Ryoutarou wasn’t sure what it meant.
04: A May-December Relationship
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairing: Eventual Ryoutarou Tsuchiura x Len Tsukimori
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Future fic. A series of one-shots and drabbles following the progression of the relationship between Ryoutarou and Len, from feuding roommates to friends to lovers.
Len liked it hot. He liked it really hot.
“Why?”
Len gave Ryoutarou a look over the big and complicated-looking novel he was reading. It was a look he’d perfected just days after moving in that meant “You just asked another stupid question.”
“That’s not a stupid question,” he insisted, sitting down on the couch and tugging the book down so he could see Len’s face. “You know what I mean-like the people who have to have blue colored walls because it reminds them of their mother’s eyes. That kind of thing.”
“…I just like heat.”
Ryoutarou frowned faintly as Len lifted the book back up to his face. He stood from the couch, paused momentarily, and turned around to face the violinist.
“You’re sure,” he said, “it’s not a subconscious way to combat that icy exterior of yours?”
Len gave him a look that meant “Shut up and leave me alone, please.”
So, Ryoutarou dealt with the heat, but he didn’t like it. He had his fill of heat when he was out on the field, playing, practicing, running for hours. He didn’t feel like sweating in his own apartment. Ryoutarou liked it cold. He liked it really cold.
They compromised, alternating days of who would control the thermostat. On the hot days, when Ryoutarou couldn’t stand it, he’d take his shirt off. Mostly because of the heat. Partly because-despite Len’s own immodesty-the violinist always had strange reactions when confronted with Ryoutarou’s half-naked form. Sometimes he’d scowl or scrunch his face up in a funny expression. And sometimes he turned an inexplicable shade of red. Ryoutarou had to admit he enjoyed that almost enough for the heat to be worth it. And on the cold days, Len wrapped a blanket around him like a cocoon and tended to sit so close to Ryoutarou, the pianist could’ve sworn he was attempting a snuggle.
During one of these cuddle attempts, Len chuckled quietly and asked, “So if my liking heat means I’m trying to melt my exterior, does this mean you’re trying to numb some part of yourself?”
Ryoutarou chuckled in response, but stopped, somewhat suddenly, considering.
“Maybe,” he said.
Len gave him another look, then, but Ryoutarou wasn’t sure what it meant.