[Fic] Spark
Title: Spark
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,354
Summary: Tuti wants to photograph Nagayan in the morning, when the light is just right...
Notes: I wrote this at work this afternoon when I was supposed to be doing something else. XD; I've been wanting to write about cameraman!Tuti for weeks now though, and then the whole KG senshuuraku thing happened, and I wanted to write about that too, so... This was my way of trying to work it all in. It's probably kind of sappy and rambling... >_> But I hope you enjoy it. ^_~
He wants to photograph him in the morning, Takashi’s hair shining in the sunlight as it filters through the window, broad patches of light across the bedspread as Takashi opens his eyes, clear and bright, even before he’s had his coffee.
He’s not sure at first where the sudden desire comes from, this extreme and almost obsessive need to capture certain moments in their lives. He knows that something happens to Takashi though, when he knows he’s in front of a camera - something turns on inside of him, something that Tuti’s never quite sure is a put-on, or an honest aspect of who Takashi is.
And initially, this is where the idea comes from, it's the reason why Tuti spends half a month’s salary on equipment that he honestly has no idea he whether or not he'll ever be able to properly operate. Because that spark that starts somewhere behind Takashi’s eyes and eventually spreads throughout his entire body when he's in front of the camera, that glowing spark that Tuti has spent so long being aware of, to the point where there are moments when he doesn’t even notice it anymore is, at times, extremely attractive.
And it makes Tuti want to film Takashi. It makes him want to be the one hunched over a tripod, the one adjusting the lens just so, the one leading Takashi into or out of the sunlight or shade or shadow of soft artificial light. It makes him want to be the one whispering direction into Takashi’s ear. The tilt of his head, the angle of his shoulder, the intensity of his gaze… To be able to exhibit some measure of control over that, and then capture the result on film...
Tuti knows that Takashi will agree, and so when he does, enthusiastically, Tuti’s not surprised.
He quickly learns that Takashi’s ideas about how he should be photographed, exactly what he should be wearing (or not wearing - he’s not shy), and the possible locations where such photos could be taken are endless.
Takashi is a true actor, and like Tuti, he thrives on the process of becoming someone else. Without fail, when Takashi is in front of the camera, he’s someone else. It’s not always about being attractive, sometimes it’s the opposite. It depends on his mood, on the quality of his day, on how much coffee (or sake, or beer) he’s consumed, and on how quickly he’s consumed it. In front of the camera, Takashi becomes a million different people, and no one, all at the same time.
And in front of Tuti’s camera, this doesn’t really change all that much. Sometimes Tuti feels like Takashi is never really the same person twice, and he finds this intriguing. On any given day, Takashi’s mind is in a million places at once, but when the shutter finally clicks, he’s always focused. It's a toss up sometimes, which aspect of Takashi ends up reflected in the photo, but he never loses focus.
Tuti enjoys the process. When the photos come back from being developed, he sometimes finds himself staring at each image for several minutes at a time. He tries to remember, as best he can, the details of each particular day, what happened before, and after, what they talked about on the train on the way home from whatever location they’d chosen, the temperature of the air, or the smell of the coffee that seemed to be constantly brewing in Takashi’s kitchen, no matter what time of day it happened to be. He’s curious as to whether or not these things will work their way into the photos, or if they’re independent, maybe, memories that can never really be captured any other way.
He sits with Takashi in a corner of their crowded gakuya, photos balanced on his lap, or at the counter of their favorite noodle shop, images laid on the surface between them, where they narrowly avoid being dripped on, or in the dim-light of his own apartment, where he arranges everything with an attempt at artistry on the futon. Takashi’s warmth is a constant. He hovers over Tuti’s shoulder, smiling, or frowning, depending on the photo, offering his insight into the process - “It was so hot that afternoon” “This one was taken too soon - look at my arm” “I don’t remember making that face” “It’s so dark, you can’t see the color here” and so on.
Before long, he has enough material to open up a small gallery, a mixture of candid shots, and staged photos, though of course, part of the arrangement is that he’s promised never to share these with anyone. He keeps the photos first in a drawer, and then in a drawer and a box underneath the drawer, which is quickly becoming fuller and fuller.
He’s sure this won’t go on forever, he’ll lose interest, or they’ll both run out of time, but this morning, all Tuti can think about is how perfect the light is in Takashi’s apartment.
It’s Wednesday morning, and Takashi has the day off, which means that he’s not already up, not already at the gym, or on his way to an early morning read-through, or some other professional engagement. Takashi is here, in bed, practically begging to be photographed by an amateur photographer with messy hair he really should have washed last night, if they hadn’t gotten back so late, and if he hadn’t been so eager to share a bed with a certain person.
Tuti rolls onto his side, and extracts himself from the warmth of Takashi’s bed slowly, cringing a little when the mattress creaks, and again when Takashi turns over slowly, clearly very close to opening his eyes. His camera is on the windowsill, exactly where he remembered leaving it the night before. Tuti adjusts the settings, and frames the photo as quickly and as quietly as he can, because he knows he only has a few seconds at most before this moment passes.
He’s just about to take the photo when Takashi shifts and sits up, blinking suspiciously at Tuti across the bed. He clears his throat.
“What are you doing? What time is it?”
“Don’t move.”
“But-”
“Stop touching your hair. …And don’t even think about getting dressed. Just stay exactly like that.”
Takashi obliges, possibly because he’s still half-asleep, and Tuti ends up with a few good shots; Takashi quickly becomes candid and warm in the morning sunlight. His smiles are always a little wider on mornings like this too - this was one of the reasons why Tuti left his camera on the windowsill. Takashi’s days off were rare, and lately, days spent waking up next to Tuti were even more rare.
Even more rare than that were days off before a nearly month-long separation, and even though Tuti knew the time would pass in the blink of an eye, he still wanted to do everything he could to make this morning last as long as possible.
“Hand me that,” Takashi says suddenly, smiling.
Tuti looks at him quizzically for a moment before he realizes that he means the camera.
Takashi doesn’t bother focusing, or setting up the shot, he just reaches across the bed, picks up the camera, smiles, points it at Tuti, and then hands it back across the bed a moment later.
“What was that for?”
Takashi shrugs, still smiling. “You never take pictures of yourself.”
“That’s true, but…”
“I want you to send that to me, okay? We’ll be in Fukuoka for three days. I already gave you the address.”
“It’s probably going to be all washed out, the light-“
“I don’t care, just send it.” Takashi is grinning, but his eyes look a little sad.
He nods. “Okay.”
“It’s not fair that you have all those pictures of me, and I don’t have any of you.”
“You have plenty of pictures of me.”
“Not as many as I’d like.”
“Well, maybe you should take up photography, Takashi.”
Takashi laughs. “Maybe I will.”
Tuti smiles, and tells Takashi that he wouldn’t mind that at all.
***
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None. Worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,354
Summary: Tuti wants to photograph Nagayan in the morning, when the light is just right...
Notes: I wrote this at work this afternoon when I was supposed to be doing something else. XD; I've been wanting to write about cameraman!Tuti for weeks now though, and then the whole KG senshuuraku thing happened, and I wanted to write about that too, so... This was my way of trying to work it all in. It's probably kind of sappy and rambling... >_> But I hope you enjoy it. ^_~
He wants to photograph him in the morning, Takashi’s hair shining in the sunlight as it filters through the window, broad patches of light across the bedspread as Takashi opens his eyes, clear and bright, even before he’s had his coffee.
He’s not sure at first where the sudden desire comes from, this extreme and almost obsessive need to capture certain moments in their lives. He knows that something happens to Takashi though, when he knows he’s in front of a camera - something turns on inside of him, something that Tuti’s never quite sure is a put-on, or an honest aspect of who Takashi is.
And initially, this is where the idea comes from, it's the reason why Tuti spends half a month’s salary on equipment that he honestly has no idea he whether or not he'll ever be able to properly operate. Because that spark that starts somewhere behind Takashi’s eyes and eventually spreads throughout his entire body when he's in front of the camera, that glowing spark that Tuti has spent so long being aware of, to the point where there are moments when he doesn’t even notice it anymore is, at times, extremely attractive.
And it makes Tuti want to film Takashi. It makes him want to be the one hunched over a tripod, the one adjusting the lens just so, the one leading Takashi into or out of the sunlight or shade or shadow of soft artificial light. It makes him want to be the one whispering direction into Takashi’s ear. The tilt of his head, the angle of his shoulder, the intensity of his gaze… To be able to exhibit some measure of control over that, and then capture the result on film...
Tuti knows that Takashi will agree, and so when he does, enthusiastically, Tuti’s not surprised.
He quickly learns that Takashi’s ideas about how he should be photographed, exactly what he should be wearing (or not wearing - he’s not shy), and the possible locations where such photos could be taken are endless.
Takashi is a true actor, and like Tuti, he thrives on the process of becoming someone else. Without fail, when Takashi is in front of the camera, he’s someone else. It’s not always about being attractive, sometimes it’s the opposite. It depends on his mood, on the quality of his day, on how much coffee (or sake, or beer) he’s consumed, and on how quickly he’s consumed it. In front of the camera, Takashi becomes a million different people, and no one, all at the same time.
And in front of Tuti’s camera, this doesn’t really change all that much. Sometimes Tuti feels like Takashi is never really the same person twice, and he finds this intriguing. On any given day, Takashi’s mind is in a million places at once, but when the shutter finally clicks, he’s always focused. It's a toss up sometimes, which aspect of Takashi ends up reflected in the photo, but he never loses focus.
Tuti enjoys the process. When the photos come back from being developed, he sometimes finds himself staring at each image for several minutes at a time. He tries to remember, as best he can, the details of each particular day, what happened before, and after, what they talked about on the train on the way home from whatever location they’d chosen, the temperature of the air, or the smell of the coffee that seemed to be constantly brewing in Takashi’s kitchen, no matter what time of day it happened to be. He’s curious as to whether or not these things will work their way into the photos, or if they’re independent, maybe, memories that can never really be captured any other way.
He sits with Takashi in a corner of their crowded gakuya, photos balanced on his lap, or at the counter of their favorite noodle shop, images laid on the surface between them, where they narrowly avoid being dripped on, or in the dim-light of his own apartment, where he arranges everything with an attempt at artistry on the futon. Takashi’s warmth is a constant. He hovers over Tuti’s shoulder, smiling, or frowning, depending on the photo, offering his insight into the process - “It was so hot that afternoon” “This one was taken too soon - look at my arm” “I don’t remember making that face” “It’s so dark, you can’t see the color here” and so on.
Before long, he has enough material to open up a small gallery, a mixture of candid shots, and staged photos, though of course, part of the arrangement is that he’s promised never to share these with anyone. He keeps the photos first in a drawer, and then in a drawer and a box underneath the drawer, which is quickly becoming fuller and fuller.
He’s sure this won’t go on forever, he’ll lose interest, or they’ll both run out of time, but this morning, all Tuti can think about is how perfect the light is in Takashi’s apartment.
It’s Wednesday morning, and Takashi has the day off, which means that he’s not already up, not already at the gym, or on his way to an early morning read-through, or some other professional engagement. Takashi is here, in bed, practically begging to be photographed by an amateur photographer with messy hair he really should have washed last night, if they hadn’t gotten back so late, and if he hadn’t been so eager to share a bed with a certain person.
Tuti rolls onto his side, and extracts himself from the warmth of Takashi’s bed slowly, cringing a little when the mattress creaks, and again when Takashi turns over slowly, clearly very close to opening his eyes. His camera is on the windowsill, exactly where he remembered leaving it the night before. Tuti adjusts the settings, and frames the photo as quickly and as quietly as he can, because he knows he only has a few seconds at most before this moment passes.
He’s just about to take the photo when Takashi shifts and sits up, blinking suspiciously at Tuti across the bed. He clears his throat.
“What are you doing? What time is it?”
“Don’t move.”
“But-”
“Stop touching your hair. …And don’t even think about getting dressed. Just stay exactly like that.”
Takashi obliges, possibly because he’s still half-asleep, and Tuti ends up with a few good shots; Takashi quickly becomes candid and warm in the morning sunlight. His smiles are always a little wider on mornings like this too - this was one of the reasons why Tuti left his camera on the windowsill. Takashi’s days off were rare, and lately, days spent waking up next to Tuti were even more rare.
Even more rare than that were days off before a nearly month-long separation, and even though Tuti knew the time would pass in the blink of an eye, he still wanted to do everything he could to make this morning last as long as possible.
“Hand me that,” Takashi says suddenly, smiling.
Tuti looks at him quizzically for a moment before he realizes that he means the camera.
Takashi doesn’t bother focusing, or setting up the shot, he just reaches across the bed, picks up the camera, smiles, points it at Tuti, and then hands it back across the bed a moment later.
“What was that for?”
Takashi shrugs, still smiling. “You never take pictures of yourself.”
“That’s true, but…”
“I want you to send that to me, okay? We’ll be in Fukuoka for three days. I already gave you the address.”
“It’s probably going to be all washed out, the light-“
“I don’t care, just send it.” Takashi is grinning, but his eyes look a little sad.
He nods. “Okay.”
“It’s not fair that you have all those pictures of me, and I don’t have any of you.”
“You have plenty of pictures of me.”
“Not as many as I’d like.”
“Well, maybe you should take up photography, Takashi.”
Takashi laughs. “Maybe I will.”
Tuti smiles, and tells Takashi that he wouldn’t mind that at all.
***