[Fic] Ten Themes: OmiRyu
A/N: About time I tried writing this pair. On a side note, my AUs seem to be gravitating to the same verse. Oh dear.
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1. Angst
Omi had grown so much.
They had started off at the same point, at the same Vocal Battle Audition. They swore that they would be doing their very best as the vocalists of the newly formed Sandaime J Soul Brothers. He had been so shy back then, laughing things off with that embarrassed smile of his. A smile that endeared him to many.
Now, Omi was not just a vocalist. He was a model. An actor. One of the most popular members of the group. And he was only just starting to bloom into a beautiful flower.
Ryuji realized that he himself had hardly grown.
2. AU
Omi stretched, blinking lazily at the rays of sunlight that streamed in through the curtains. It seemed to be around midday, but since winter was approaching, one could never tell. Not that he cared, anyway.
As much as his bed was nice and warm, he really wanted some fresh air. He padded across the tatami mats, only pausing to rub his face against the old man’s trouser leg. He slipped through the gap between the human’s hands and sidled out of the open door into the yard, ignoring his grumbling (“Elliot, that boy. Thinks you’ll be safe indoors just because I’m home.”).
Spotting movement at the corner of his eye, he dove headfirst into a pile of orange leaves. With an alarmed squeak, a field mouse streaked out from the other end of the once-neat pile. The white cat poked his head out, licking his lips.
The birdsong around him had gone quiet. He noticed a familiar brown bird staring at him from its branch on the sakura tree. It was one of those pesky flying things that had been frequenting the yard - his yard - for the birdseed that his humans would put out onto the small table on the lawn.
Sensing that it had been spotted, the lark ruffled its feathers uneasily, hopping from foot to foot. Omi climbed out of the leaf pile and stretched, extending his claws.
Although it still kept its eyes on him, the bird did not fly away.
Omi ambled towards the tree, before putting on a sudden burst of speed up the sakura tree. The lark shrieked and took flight, circling around its former perch. The white cat yawned and settled down on the branch, leaving his eyes open just a fraction. He saw the lark settle down again at the end of the same branch.
Tail feathers twitching, it opened its beak, singing a few tentative notes.
Closing his eyes, Omi figured that the larksong wasn’t the worst thing to be listening to on a beautiful autumn’s day.
3. Crack
They all knew that if given the choice, Ryuji would have been born a girl.
None of them, however, expected Ryuji to flounce into the rehearsal room wearing a frilly pink dress and a long brown wig.
Amidst the raucous laughter, only Hiroomi saw Ami’s and Aya’s grinning faces duck back into the corridor.
4. Crossover
Across the road, he saw Hiroomi throw an arm casually across a young girl’s shoulders, pulling her towards him. He saw the girl bat his hands away jokingly, before giving up and relaxing into his hold.
His stomach twisted as he saw the contented looks on both their faces. So familiar. Much like the one that greeted him this morning in the bathroom mirror, when he was getting ready to go out.
When Hiroomi bent to nuzzle playfully at the girl’s neck, Ryuji turned and walked away.
5. First time
“How was it?”
“It was really strange.”
“Aren’t you happy to have the stage all to yourself?”
“It was, at first. Then…”
“Then?”
“Then I looked over to my right, and you weren’t there. It felt really lonely.”
Hiroomi tightened his grip on his mobile, his other hand trying to cover the foolish grin spreading across his face.
Not that Ryuji could see it anyway.
6. Fluff
He avoided looking at Hiroomi’s face, at those eyes that he knew were fixing him with a measuring look.
He heard a bashful chuckle. Cool fingers tucked the left side of his fringe behind his rapidly reddening ear, skimming its shell.
“Thank you.”
Ryuji caught a glimpse of a shy, yet brilliant smile, just as that lock of hair fell back to its original position in front of his eyes.
7. Humour
Ryuji could not decide if it was a good idea to have Hiroomi over for tea after all.
Sure, Omi got along very well with his family. The last time he came over, he had chatted for ages with his parents, talking about everything from the weather to how they were faring at work. When she bustled off to fetch more tea, his mother even gave Ryuji a conspiratorial wink.
Today, however, his sister was home.
Ryuji could only watch with barely concealed horror as his sister unearthed his old photo albums for their guest’s viewing pleasure.
8. Hurt/Comfort
He woke up with a scream on his lips, sweat beading on his brow. Images, too clear for a dream - no, a nightmare - flashed through his mind.
Heat. Lots of it. A giant fireball that engulfed the buildings on the other side of the river, black smoke rising through the air.
A white veil amidst the rubble, covered in blood.
He did not hear his door open, and started when he felt the bed sink beside him. Before he could jerk away, he felt himself being enveloped into a hug.
“It’s ok. It’s just a dream. Everything’s going to be alright.” Worry touched the other’s calm voice, a large hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back.
Hiroomi choked back a sob and buried his face into the crook of Ryuji’s neck.
9. Smut
Omi had started off slowly. Hesitant fingers gliding across bared skin, almost as if he were trying to coax him into relaxing further, to take more of him inside.
He saw the way that Omi’s face was screwed up. The way that his pale skin was splotched with red. The way that his body was quivering with the strain of holding back.
He was beautiful.
“Omi. Move. Please?”
He did not know whether it was the gasped words that did it, but he saw Hiroomi’s eyes darken, his control snap.
He knew that his hands were clawing at Hiroomi’s back. That wet slapping sounds filled the room. He felt Hiroomi’s hand on him, pumping him hard and fast, in time with his own movements.
He came with a cry, warm liquid spurting onto his stomach. Dimly, he registered that Omi had pulled out of him and moved off the bed. A rustle of plastic as something was thrown inside the bin, the sound of water running.
The next thing Ryuji knew, Omi was wiping him down with a warm, moist towel.
10. UST
Hiroomi thought that he was the one who was supposed to attract the ladies.
The throng of women around his fellow vocalist begged to differ. They were milling around him, all vying for his attention. Ryuji’s sweet smile never faltered, all the while responding to each of the girls in turn.
He was so bloody polite that it was driving Hiroomi nuts.
If they were not on set, he would have dragged Ryuji off to a quieter location by now. He would have pressed their lips together, sucking on the other’s lower lip to make it swell just enough for others to notice. He wanted to leave a trail of red marks down Ryuji’s slender neck, let everyone else know that he was taken, that Ryuji was his.
He was not able to wipe the scowl off his face before the older man glanced over in his direction. His smile changed subtly as he excused himself, making his way over to him.
“Omi, do you want to get a drink? The lights are rather warm.”
The words were innocent enough, but Hiroomi saw the deliberate sway of Ryuji’s hips when he had walked over, the mischievous glint in his eyes that was barely concealed by his shades. A brush of calloused fingers on his arm sent pleasant shivers down his spine.
“Sure.”
=======================
1. Angst
Omi had grown so much.
They had started off at the same point, at the same Vocal Battle Audition. They swore that they would be doing their very best as the vocalists of the newly formed Sandaime J Soul Brothers. He had been so shy back then, laughing things off with that embarrassed smile of his. A smile that endeared him to many.
Now, Omi was not just a vocalist. He was a model. An actor. One of the most popular members of the group. And he was only just starting to bloom into a beautiful flower.
Ryuji realized that he himself had hardly grown.
2. AU
Omi stretched, blinking lazily at the rays of sunlight that streamed in through the curtains. It seemed to be around midday, but since winter was approaching, one could never tell. Not that he cared, anyway.
As much as his bed was nice and warm, he really wanted some fresh air. He padded across the tatami mats, only pausing to rub his face against the old man’s trouser leg. He slipped through the gap between the human’s hands and sidled out of the open door into the yard, ignoring his grumbling (“Elliot, that boy. Thinks you’ll be safe indoors just because I’m home.”).
Spotting movement at the corner of his eye, he dove headfirst into a pile of orange leaves. With an alarmed squeak, a field mouse streaked out from the other end of the once-neat pile. The white cat poked his head out, licking his lips.
The birdsong around him had gone quiet. He noticed a familiar brown bird staring at him from its branch on the sakura tree. It was one of those pesky flying things that had been frequenting the yard - his yard - for the birdseed that his humans would put out onto the small table on the lawn.
Sensing that it had been spotted, the lark ruffled its feathers uneasily, hopping from foot to foot. Omi climbed out of the leaf pile and stretched, extending his claws.
Although it still kept its eyes on him, the bird did not fly away.
Omi ambled towards the tree, before putting on a sudden burst of speed up the sakura tree. The lark shrieked and took flight, circling around its former perch. The white cat yawned and settled down on the branch, leaving his eyes open just a fraction. He saw the lark settle down again at the end of the same branch.
Tail feathers twitching, it opened its beak, singing a few tentative notes.
Closing his eyes, Omi figured that the larksong wasn’t the worst thing to be listening to on a beautiful autumn’s day.
3. Crack
They all knew that if given the choice, Ryuji would have been born a girl.
None of them, however, expected Ryuji to flounce into the rehearsal room wearing a frilly pink dress and a long brown wig.
Amidst the raucous laughter, only Hiroomi saw Ami’s and Aya’s grinning faces duck back into the corridor.
4. Crossover
Across the road, he saw Hiroomi throw an arm casually across a young girl’s shoulders, pulling her towards him. He saw the girl bat his hands away jokingly, before giving up and relaxing into his hold.
His stomach twisted as he saw the contented looks on both their faces. So familiar. Much like the one that greeted him this morning in the bathroom mirror, when he was getting ready to go out.
When Hiroomi bent to nuzzle playfully at the girl’s neck, Ryuji turned and walked away.
5. First time
“How was it?”
“It was really strange.”
“Aren’t you happy to have the stage all to yourself?”
“It was, at first. Then…”
“Then?”
“Then I looked over to my right, and you weren’t there. It felt really lonely.”
Hiroomi tightened his grip on his mobile, his other hand trying to cover the foolish grin spreading across his face.
Not that Ryuji could see it anyway.
6. Fluff
He avoided looking at Hiroomi’s face, at those eyes that he knew were fixing him with a measuring look.
He heard a bashful chuckle. Cool fingers tucked the left side of his fringe behind his rapidly reddening ear, skimming its shell.
“Thank you.”
Ryuji caught a glimpse of a shy, yet brilliant smile, just as that lock of hair fell back to its original position in front of his eyes.
7. Humour
Ryuji could not decide if it was a good idea to have Hiroomi over for tea after all.
Sure, Omi got along very well with his family. The last time he came over, he had chatted for ages with his parents, talking about everything from the weather to how they were faring at work. When she bustled off to fetch more tea, his mother even gave Ryuji a conspiratorial wink.
Today, however, his sister was home.
Ryuji could only watch with barely concealed horror as his sister unearthed his old photo albums for their guest’s viewing pleasure.
8. Hurt/Comfort
He woke up with a scream on his lips, sweat beading on his brow. Images, too clear for a dream - no, a nightmare - flashed through his mind.
Heat. Lots of it. A giant fireball that engulfed the buildings on the other side of the river, black smoke rising through the air.
A white veil amidst the rubble, covered in blood.
He did not hear his door open, and started when he felt the bed sink beside him. Before he could jerk away, he felt himself being enveloped into a hug.
“It’s ok. It’s just a dream. Everything’s going to be alright.” Worry touched the other’s calm voice, a large hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back.
Hiroomi choked back a sob and buried his face into the crook of Ryuji’s neck.
9. Smut
Omi had started off slowly. Hesitant fingers gliding across bared skin, almost as if he were trying to coax him into relaxing further, to take more of him inside.
He saw the way that Omi’s face was screwed up. The way that his pale skin was splotched with red. The way that his body was quivering with the strain of holding back.
He was beautiful.
“Omi. Move. Please?”
He did not know whether it was the gasped words that did it, but he saw Hiroomi’s eyes darken, his control snap.
He knew that his hands were clawing at Hiroomi’s back. That wet slapping sounds filled the room. He felt Hiroomi’s hand on him, pumping him hard and fast, in time with his own movements.
He came with a cry, warm liquid spurting onto his stomach. Dimly, he registered that Omi had pulled out of him and moved off the bed. A rustle of plastic as something was thrown inside the bin, the sound of water running.
The next thing Ryuji knew, Omi was wiping him down with a warm, moist towel.
10. UST
Hiroomi thought that he was the one who was supposed to attract the ladies.
The throng of women around his fellow vocalist begged to differ. They were milling around him, all vying for his attention. Ryuji’s sweet smile never faltered, all the while responding to each of the girls in turn.
He was so bloody polite that it was driving Hiroomi nuts.
If they were not on set, he would have dragged Ryuji off to a quieter location by now. He would have pressed their lips together, sucking on the other’s lower lip to make it swell just enough for others to notice. He wanted to leave a trail of red marks down Ryuji’s slender neck, let everyone else know that he was taken, that Ryuji was his.
He was not able to wipe the scowl off his face before the older man glanced over in his direction. His smile changed subtly as he excused himself, making his way over to him.
“Omi, do you want to get a drink? The lights are rather warm.”
The words were innocent enough, but Hiroomi saw the deliberate sway of Ryuji’s hips when he had walked over, the mischievous glint in his eyes that was barely concealed by his shades. A brush of calloused fingers on his arm sent pleasant shivers down his spine.
“Sure.”