fic >> sleep.
bing: this is kanjani8.
WATCH THAT PV AND TELL ME YOU CAN'T LOVE THEM
aki: ryo's in both??
i thought he was arashi
bing: HAHAHA NO
but that's a priceless thought.
That comment made my entire night. RYO IN ARASHI.
This isn't the Ryo/Uchi fic I've been writing for the past week, but I don't think I'll be able to finish it anytime soon. :( I support almost any Ryo pairing, but Ryo/Uchi is my absolute-absolute favorite because I can never resist the BEST FRIEND dynamic, and I really wanted to post something before I leave (and especially for lovedoesthat, after she made me feel so much better about being such a creep T_T), so have some embarrassing pointless fluff.
absenceofmind, fear not, your Akame is going up tomorrow. What is it with me and being conned into writing pairings that I can't write, sigh.
Clairvoyance (on the dance floor)
Ryo/Uchi - PG - 1,132 words
Clubbing is the favored form of entertainment during the summer. It's an easy way to relieve stress and have fun without drawing attention to themselves; the girls they find in clubs are rarely the type to be at a NewS or KAT-TUN concert. And even so, the dimmed lights and pulsating background music provide an even better cover for hiding identities than oversized sunglasses and low-hanging hats. Which makes it highly ironic that Uchi has never felt more self-conscious and insecure than when he's awkwardly trying to lounge against the bar top, eyes nervously sliding back and forth across the dance floor in front of him. The mass of moving bodies seems almost to move as one entity, one person an extension of another; it's difficult in the dark to tell when one person ends and another begins. The DJ is in the middle of a long neo-trance set when the keyboards and synths suddenly drop out, leaving only a deep penetrating bassline, and the neon lights flicker once, twice, before burning out with a spark and black lights flood the room like a waterfall. The crowd sways in unison, the silhouetted bodies rising up as if gasping for air.
"This club is bangin' tonight," Yamapi surveys the dance floor approvingly, already eyeing a girl whose shirt doesn't quite exist in its entirety.
"I can't believe the bouncer tried to card Ryo but let Uchi in without a glance," Jin crows gleefully. He rests an elbow on Uchi's shoulder and leans in with a sly smile. "Uchi, you're pretty hot. You should come clubbing with us more often."
Ryo shoves him roughly from behind, and Jin stumbles forward, his knee making direct contact with a bar stool. "Don't touch him, what if your stupidity is contagious," he sneers. "Stop standing around like a bunch of girls. Hiroki, come on." He grabs Uchi's arm and pulls him away, keeping his grip firm as he pushes his way toward the pulsing music.
He lets go once they're close enough to feel the beat jump in their chests, and Uchi has a momentary flash of panic, like he's just been stranded in the middle of an ocean without a lifeboat, but Ryo's hand has by then relocated onto the hip of a girl who has materialized out of nowhere from the unidentifiable mass of writhing bodies. Ryo lowers his head to yell something in her ear; she giggles and wraps her arms around his neck. Uchi sighs and closes his eyes. He's never liked clubbing; he doesn't like how you can never see anyone's faces, that no one cares who you are, only how well you dance and how good you look doing it. But it's either this or flipping television channels by himself in a deserted hotel room, and Ryo and Yamapi and Jin love clubbing. Even if, Uchi thinks tiredly, all three of them are closet exhibitionists.
He goes through a string of girls who all blur together in his memory as the night wears on; one of them has hair the color of strawberry bubblegum, another is at least 15 centimeters shorter than him and he has to bend his knees for them to work, yet another sports an eyebrow piercing that makes Uchi wince in pain just looking at it. He escapes to the bar after a couple sets and downs a glass of ice water. The sweat pools uncomfortably at the nape of his neck, and he runs a hand through his damp hair. The night is unfortunately still young. Uchi wistfully thinks how if he left now, it's still early enough for him to phone his mother for a casual chat.
"Yo, there you are." Ryo collapses into the stool next to him and pushes off on the counter, spinning around in a circle. "The girl I'm with right now thinks you're cute. She told me to bring you back with me."
"Let me get another glass of water first," Uchi stalls weakly.
Ryo spins around in another circle and then anchors his palms on the ledge. He studies Uchi's face quietly.
"You know what?" He hops off the stool. "The girls here aren't even that good-looking. This place is dying, I'm gonna head back to the hotel. Carpool back with me."
Uchi blinks and turns back to the dance floor; if anything, the mass of people appears to have grown even more in size within the past hour. "I'm not tired!" he protests, his tone a notch more forceful than intended.
"I'm tired." Ryo arches an eyebrow. "You should think about other people for a change, Hiroki."
Uchi stares back at him and then breaks into a laugh. "Liar," he accuses, but the relief is evident. He may be able to hide his emotions, but he's never been very good with disguising his intentions.
Ryo flips open his cell on their way out and texts to Yamapi that they're leaving, though Uchi reflects that it's probably more for his sake than Ryo's own. It wouldn't be the first time that Ryo's ditched Yamapi and Jin at a club or otherwise, after all. It's raining when they get outside, but luckily not too heavily; the drops come down slow and splatter across the pavement in fat puddles, the sound as rhythmic as the DJ's scratches. The cool night air hits Uchi's skin with a single gust of wind, a welcome change from the suffocating humidity of the club.
They hail down a cab, and Uchi is almost too embarrassed to admit how refreshing the silence is after the doors close and mute even the noisy street clamor. They haven't gone two blocks when he starts to feel the first curling tendrils of sleep on the edges of his consciousness. Against his will, he can feel his vision growing blurry, his head sinking down from the abrupt weight of drowsiness. An arm stretches behind him to pillow his neck, and Uchi smiles against the soft fabric of Ryo's shirt.
"Ryo-chan in Tokyo is different than Ryo-chan in Osaka," he mumbles with a wide yawn.
"Yeah, well," Ryo replies, off guard. "Yassu's usually the one who keeps an eye on you in Osaka."
"That's not what I mean." He stifles another yawn, and his head rolls heavily on Ryo's shoulder. When he closes his eyes, his eyelashes brush against Ryo's throat like a raindrop. "But it's okay," he murmurs, his words turning sticky with sleep. "Because I like all Ryo-chans."
"Stop talking in your sleep," Ryo reproaches affectionately, one hand coming up to smooth Uchi's bangs out of his eyes. His fingers linger at his temple, the shell of his ear, his jaw line. The two of them stay that way for the rest of the car ride.
WATCH THAT PV AND TELL ME YOU CAN'T LOVE THEM
aki: ryo's in both??
i thought he was arashi
bing: HAHAHA NO
but that's a priceless thought.
That comment made my entire night. RYO IN ARASHI.
This isn't the Ryo/Uchi fic I've been writing for the past week, but I don't think I'll be able to finish it anytime soon. :( I support almost any Ryo pairing, but Ryo/Uchi is my absolute-absolute favorite because I can never resist the BEST FRIEND dynamic, and I really wanted to post something before I leave (and especially for lovedoesthat, after she made me feel so much better about being such a creep T_T), so have some embarrassing pointless fluff.
absenceofmind, fear not, your Akame is going up tomorrow. What is it with me and being conned into writing pairings that I can't write, sigh.
Clairvoyance (on the dance floor)
Ryo/Uchi - PG - 1,132 words
Clubbing is the favored form of entertainment during the summer. It's an easy way to relieve stress and have fun without drawing attention to themselves; the girls they find in clubs are rarely the type to be at a NewS or KAT-TUN concert. And even so, the dimmed lights and pulsating background music provide an even better cover for hiding identities than oversized sunglasses and low-hanging hats. Which makes it highly ironic that Uchi has never felt more self-conscious and insecure than when he's awkwardly trying to lounge against the bar top, eyes nervously sliding back and forth across the dance floor in front of him. The mass of moving bodies seems almost to move as one entity, one person an extension of another; it's difficult in the dark to tell when one person ends and another begins. The DJ is in the middle of a long neo-trance set when the keyboards and synths suddenly drop out, leaving only a deep penetrating bassline, and the neon lights flicker once, twice, before burning out with a spark and black lights flood the room like a waterfall. The crowd sways in unison, the silhouetted bodies rising up as if gasping for air.
"This club is bangin' tonight," Yamapi surveys the dance floor approvingly, already eyeing a girl whose shirt doesn't quite exist in its entirety.
"I can't believe the bouncer tried to card Ryo but let Uchi in without a glance," Jin crows gleefully. He rests an elbow on Uchi's shoulder and leans in with a sly smile. "Uchi, you're pretty hot. You should come clubbing with us more often."
Ryo shoves him roughly from behind, and Jin stumbles forward, his knee making direct contact with a bar stool. "Don't touch him, what if your stupidity is contagious," he sneers. "Stop standing around like a bunch of girls. Hiroki, come on." He grabs Uchi's arm and pulls him away, keeping his grip firm as he pushes his way toward the pulsing music.
He lets go once they're close enough to feel the beat jump in their chests, and Uchi has a momentary flash of panic, like he's just been stranded in the middle of an ocean without a lifeboat, but Ryo's hand has by then relocated onto the hip of a girl who has materialized out of nowhere from the unidentifiable mass of writhing bodies. Ryo lowers his head to yell something in her ear; she giggles and wraps her arms around his neck. Uchi sighs and closes his eyes. He's never liked clubbing; he doesn't like how you can never see anyone's faces, that no one cares who you are, only how well you dance and how good you look doing it. But it's either this or flipping television channels by himself in a deserted hotel room, and Ryo and Yamapi and Jin love clubbing. Even if, Uchi thinks tiredly, all three of them are closet exhibitionists.
He goes through a string of girls who all blur together in his memory as the night wears on; one of them has hair the color of strawberry bubblegum, another is at least 15 centimeters shorter than him and he has to bend his knees for them to work, yet another sports an eyebrow piercing that makes Uchi wince in pain just looking at it. He escapes to the bar after a couple sets and downs a glass of ice water. The sweat pools uncomfortably at the nape of his neck, and he runs a hand through his damp hair. The night is unfortunately still young. Uchi wistfully thinks how if he left now, it's still early enough for him to phone his mother for a casual chat.
"Yo, there you are." Ryo collapses into the stool next to him and pushes off on the counter, spinning around in a circle. "The girl I'm with right now thinks you're cute. She told me to bring you back with me."
"Let me get another glass of water first," Uchi stalls weakly.
Ryo spins around in another circle and then anchors his palms on the ledge. He studies Uchi's face quietly.
"You know what?" He hops off the stool. "The girls here aren't even that good-looking. This place is dying, I'm gonna head back to the hotel. Carpool back with me."
Uchi blinks and turns back to the dance floor; if anything, the mass of people appears to have grown even more in size within the past hour. "I'm not tired!" he protests, his tone a notch more forceful than intended.
"I'm tired." Ryo arches an eyebrow. "You should think about other people for a change, Hiroki."
Uchi stares back at him and then breaks into a laugh. "Liar," he accuses, but the relief is evident. He may be able to hide his emotions, but he's never been very good with disguising his intentions.
Ryo flips open his cell on their way out and texts to Yamapi that they're leaving, though Uchi reflects that it's probably more for his sake than Ryo's own. It wouldn't be the first time that Ryo's ditched Yamapi and Jin at a club or otherwise, after all. It's raining when they get outside, but luckily not too heavily; the drops come down slow and splatter across the pavement in fat puddles, the sound as rhythmic as the DJ's scratches. The cool night air hits Uchi's skin with a single gust of wind, a welcome change from the suffocating humidity of the club.
They hail down a cab, and Uchi is almost too embarrassed to admit how refreshing the silence is after the doors close and mute even the noisy street clamor. They haven't gone two blocks when he starts to feel the first curling tendrils of sleep on the edges of his consciousness. Against his will, he can feel his vision growing blurry, his head sinking down from the abrupt weight of drowsiness. An arm stretches behind him to pillow his neck, and Uchi smiles against the soft fabric of Ryo's shirt.
"Ryo-chan in Tokyo is different than Ryo-chan in Osaka," he mumbles with a wide yawn.
"Yeah, well," Ryo replies, off guard. "Yassu's usually the one who keeps an eye on you in Osaka."
"That's not what I mean." He stifles another yawn, and his head rolls heavily on Ryo's shoulder. When he closes his eyes, his eyelashes brush against Ryo's throat like a raindrop. "But it's okay," he murmurs, his words turning sticky with sleep. "Because I like all Ryo-chans."
"Stop talking in your sleep," Ryo reproaches affectionately, one hand coming up to smooth Uchi's bangs out of his eyes. His fingers linger at his temple, the shell of his ear, his jaw line. The two of them stay that way for the rest of the car ride.