Drabbles (Yoko/Hina, Subaru/Yasu)
Yoko/Hina for pinkpapyrus
Yoko’s head is heavy on Hina’s shoulder, his hand warm on his thigh. Yoko’s eyelashes are dark against his cheeks and they flutter arrhythmically. His breath comes out in short puffs from slightly parted lips. It had taken him three seconds to fall asleep in between two sets of exhausted whining.
Hina doesn’t move. He rereads the same page four times. Yoko’s a light sleeper. When they reach the next town, Hina will flip the page and Yoko will wake up. He’ll be all bleary eyes and husky tone in Hina’s ear but he will have regained some verve.
Subaru/Yasu
It’s kind of an unspoken agreement between the two. Neither ever mentions it, neither ever questions it, or maybe they do, but it just seems like talking would complicate things. It didn’t really have a beginning, doesn’t really have limits or rules or even guidelines. It’s just the kind of thing that is, period.
It could have started with Yasu holding on to Subaru’s hand for over an hour as they were shopping, dragging him from shop to shop, exploring one stacked shelf after the other, pointing at things with their intertwined fingers.
It could have started with Subaru nuzzling Yasu’s neck as he babbled nonsense before the both of them fell asleep on the couch, awkward in position, but comfortable in their bubble of intimacy.
It could have started with a note, a chord, a harmony. Something low, something soft and warm, maybe unexpected. Fingers brushing, a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide open or slowly closing. Lips parting on a word, a name, a sound, a breath...
It must have started with something. A moment. A movement. One last line crossed.
But in the end it doesn’t matter. Because this is the kind of thing that just is, period.
Yoko’s head is heavy on Hina’s shoulder, his hand warm on his thigh. Yoko’s eyelashes are dark against his cheeks and they flutter arrhythmically. His breath comes out in short puffs from slightly parted lips. It had taken him three seconds to fall asleep in between two sets of exhausted whining.
Hina doesn’t move. He rereads the same page four times. Yoko’s a light sleeper. When they reach the next town, Hina will flip the page and Yoko will wake up. He’ll be all bleary eyes and husky tone in Hina’s ear but he will have regained some verve.
Subaru/Yasu
It’s kind of an unspoken agreement between the two. Neither ever mentions it, neither ever questions it, or maybe they do, but it just seems like talking would complicate things. It didn’t really have a beginning, doesn’t really have limits or rules or even guidelines. It’s just the kind of thing that is, period.
It could have started with Yasu holding on to Subaru’s hand for over an hour as they were shopping, dragging him from shop to shop, exploring one stacked shelf after the other, pointing at things with their intertwined fingers.
It could have started with Subaru nuzzling Yasu’s neck as he babbled nonsense before the both of them fell asleep on the couch, awkward in position, but comfortable in their bubble of intimacy.
It could have started with a note, a chord, a harmony. Something low, something soft and warm, maybe unexpected. Fingers brushing, a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide open or slowly closing. Lips parting on a word, a name, a sound, a breath...
It must have started with something. A moment. A movement. One last line crossed.
But in the end it doesn’t matter. Because this is the kind of thing that just is, period.