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More drabble answers (finally!)
Meme answers~! Answers to the DRABBLE MEME, in fact! And? This finishes up the meme! The first five are here, the next four are here, and the previous three are here. Below are the remaining four. Enjoy, if you dare!
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iamnotvoldemort: Harry Potter. Harry/Ron/Hermione porn. (I am such a dirty girl.)
Harry Potter: Testing
When Harry decided he had to get back at Fred and George Weasley for the exploding sock incident (which nearly cost him his feet, not to mention Professor McGonagall's good graces), he went first to Ron. Ron was hesitant to assist Harry out at first ("Near death experiences are no problem. Dealing with Fred and George in a prank war is bloody stupid, Harry!"), but the redhead was eventually convinced, and then the two of them went to Hermione for help. She agreed under the condition that they think of the revenge on their own ("Because this is silly, and I have three test this month and I don't have time to waste brainstorming with you two."). It only took them a few hours to actually think of something, and they went triumphant to Hermione to tell her the plan.
It didn't take much. When they explained the concept to Hermione, she nodded her head and pulled out a potions book. "There it is," she said. "A molting potion. That's what you want, I think."
The boys considered it, then nodded. "Perfect," Harry said, and Ron grinned his agreement.
It didn't take much to make the potion, either -- just a few days, and constant vigilance --, and before too long, the three of them stood grinning over the cauldron, ready to give the stuff to Fred and George. What they didn't count on was Hermione's insistence that the potion needed to be tested, and that gave them a bit of a setback.
"What?" Ron nearly shrieked, and he coughed to rid himself of the resulting raspy feeling in his throat. "Are you out of your bloody head?"
Hermione frowned. "It has to be tested," she said. "How else will we know it works?"
"But what if it kills us?"
"Then at least we'll know not to give it to your brothers," Hermione reasoned. "Now, both of you take a cup and --"
"Both of us? Why us?"
"Well, who else would do it?"
"You!"
"Me?" Hermione exclaimed. "No!"
The three of them argued over this for about twenty minutes more before they reached a truce, of sorts. With a resigned sigh, they each took a cup, toasted, and drank.
Five minutes later, they were all splayed on the floor, mostly naked and with their limbs all intertwined, and so needy that they could hardly stand it. Harry ran his lips down Ron's back even as Ron's hands traced Hermione's sides, and Hermione hooked a leg around Harry's urging him closer. Things continued in that nature for a while and once they were all satiated and considerably less tingly, Harry sighed.
"That's definitely not a molting potion," he said.
"S'just as good," Ron decided.
"How so?" Hermione murmured.
"It'll keep them too busy to bother anyone else," Ron said.
"Mm," Hermione agreed.
Harry nodded, then glanced back to the cauldron. "Maybe we should test it again," he said. "To make sure it's still good."
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances and laughed.
They tested it again, and again, and once they were done testing it, there was none left to give to Fred or George. But that was all right, too.
---end---
Forbakaduoneko: Gravitation. Tatsuha/Hiro. Hiro plays the guitar and Tatsuha sneaks up on him.
Gravi: The Benefits of Sneaking Around
There was something surprisingly alluring about the way Hiro played the guitar, and that was why Tatsuha, even though he knew about half of NG's security was on his tail, stopped outside the door to Bad Luck's studio room to listen. Hiro was alone -- for good reason, Tatsuha knew, since Shuichi had stayed home and Suguru was busily playing producer in Sakano's stead (both things Tatsuha had discovered while the receptionist downstairs tried to figure out why 'Eiri-san' was visiting the building). The guitarist also had his back to the door, so Tatsuha snuck inside the room and pressed close against the wall so the security personnel wouldn't catch sight of him. It worked; a group of about twenty guards rushed by without even glancing through the studio door, and Tatsuha silently gave thanks for all the cartoons that had ever encouraged such an escape plan. Hiro played all the way through the scene, and a closer look on Tatsuha's part revealed why: headphones.
Tatsuha grinned. Well, since it didn't look as though he'd get to find Sakuma-san after all, he should at least have a little fun while he was here, since he'd gone through all the effort of dyeing his hair and such. Right?
Of course.
That decision made, Tatsuha stepped away from the wall and toward the guitarist. Whatever he was listening to, he must have been listening to it loudly; even when Tatsuha accidentally kicked a box, the redhead didn't turn around. That was fine, though. Tatsuha used it to his advantage and snuck up close behind Hiro -- just a finger-width or two away from touching the guitarist's back.
Then Hiro ruined everything by leaning back and bumping into Tatsuha. Hiro jumped and whirled around, almost hitting Tatsuha with the neck of his guitar. Tatsuha plastered a grin on his face and waved.
"What'cha playing?" he asked. Hiro blinked and looked confused, so Tatsuha rolled his eyes and tapped the side of his head to remind Hiro about his headphones. Once Hiro had them off, Tatsuha grinned again. "What were you playing?"
"Just some song." Hiro squinted at Tatsuha. "You're Tatsuha, right? You missed a part of your hair there."
Tatsuha ran a hand through his (bleached) hair and shrugged. "It was sort of a quick thing," he explained. "I'm a busy guy."
"A busy guy in the middle of NG," Hiro said dryly. "What do you want?"
"Me?" Tatsuha asked. He tried to look affronted; it was difficult. "Why would you think I wanted something? I'm just a guy taking a stroll through NG, that's all."
Hiro arched an eyebrow. "While trying to pass yourself off as Yuki-san? What did you do that you want to blame him for, exactly?"
"Nothing!"
"I don't believe you."
Tatsuha rolled his eyes. "Are you always so distrustful?"
"Just with people in your family," Hiro answered. He fiddled with his headphones. "Are we done? I'm working."
From somewhere down the hall, Tatsuha could hear the sound of yelling. The security guards again, probably, and that meant they had backtracked and were probably being a touch more careful about checking in rooms this time. Damn. He considered Hiro quickly. Well, if he was going to get in trouble anyway, he might as well earn his punishment...
"Almost done," Tatsuha promised. "You've got some gunk on your cheek."
"Huh?" Hiro brought up a hand to get the imaginary gunk off. "Where?"
"I'll get it," Tatsuha said, and while he was leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Hiro's lips. He tangled his fingers in Hiro's hair, solely to keep the redhead still, and he was still like that when the security guards walked in, took hold of Tatsuha's arms, and forcefully dragged him upstairs, to Tohma's office.
Family or no, Tohma still reamed the life out of him, but Tatsuha felt it was almost worth it for the chance to see the shocked, almost horrified look on Hiro's face as he kissed him. And, well, maybe the next time he snuck into NG, he'd take a few minutes to pay Hiro another little visit.
---end---
Forpikachu_goddess: Gravitation. RyuichixHiro, NC-17.
Gravi: Best Served Hot
"Come home with me," Hiro said, and that was all it took to get Ryuichi back to his apartment (and, subsequently, his bed). With the singer splayed on Hiro's bed, his legs opened and knees bent and fingers scrabbling for bed sheets or a headboard or anything that would give him that much more control (little as it was) while Hiro sucked him off, Hiro could almost forget that it had been that easy. When Ryuichi moaned, Hiro could even almost forget that he had really only intended to have the singer play video games with him all night. And of course, when Ryuichi's hands finally found their handhold in Hiro's hair and got tangled up there as the singer tried desperately not to come in Hiro's mouth, Hiro could almost forget that he'd only invited the singer over in an act of revenge -- an attempt to get back at Tatsuha for having stolen Ayaka-chan for the entire weekend (the only weekend Hiro had free this month, even) for the sake of some local fair.
Almost.
Hiro took his mouth away and, ignoring Ryuichi's mewl of protest, wiped at his lower lip. "Sorry," he murmured.
Ryuichi arched an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No."
"Right." The singer stretched out, shifting his legs a bit. One of his legs brushed against Hiro's, and the guitarist tried not to think about the knot in his stomach or just how utterly fuckable Ryuichi looked or the way his usually too-loose jeans felt too tight to be comfortable. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. He was with Ayaka and when she wasn't ditching him to spend time with Tatsuha, they were happy. He wasn't gay and he wasn't supposed to be turned on when there was a moaning, writhing, utterly gorgeous man in his bed. It wasn't his thing.
And yet here he was.
Hiro swiped some hair out of his face and shook his head. "Look, it's just that I –"
"You're not into guys," Ryuichi said, stretching again. His arms went over his head and he tilted his head back. "I know that."
"What?" Hiro furrowed his brow. "Then why did you –"
Ryuichi grinned. "That's for me to know and you to torture yourself with."
Hiro frowned. "Sakuma-san, I don't think we're talking about the same thing."
"Sure we are," the singer said. He stood from the bed. "Where's your bathroom?"
"That way," Hiro said, and pointed him in the right direction. "Then what are we talking about, exactly?"
Ryuichi shrugged and made his way to the bathroom. Once there, he shut the door, and through the door he called, "Do you know English?"
"What? Some, yes."
"They've got this expression," Ryuichi chimed. "You might know it." He switched to English then, and although Hiro knew the words, he couldn't quite put the meaning behind it. Maybe he was just too distracted by the sound of Ryuichi's voice. There was, after all, a reason the singer was an international sensation.
"Say again?"
Ryuichi laughed, although the laugh was more of a giggle. It was eerie, a little; that childlike giggle was the reason Hiro had invited Ryuichi back with him – he had thought it would be a failsafe against actually doing anything, or of going too far with his need to get back at Tatsuha. He hadn't known that the giggle would disappear almost as soon as Ryuichi stepped through the apartment door.
"Roughly translated," Ryuichi said as he opened the door and bent to pick up his pants, "it means 'Revenge is best served cold'." He put one leg through his pants and then the other. "But who likes cold food, anyway?" He finished putting on his jeans and grinned at Hiro. "Now you get it?"
"No."
Ryuichi nodded. "Mmkay," he said, and blew Hiro a kiss. "Don't worry, I'm leaving now. But do you want to tell Tatsuha-kun, or should I?"
Hiro frowned and considered Ryuichi, then stared. "You and Tatsuha are...?"
Ryuichi grinned. "You aren't the only one getting cockblocked by a fair," he teased, and gathered the rest of his clothes. Then, having apparently said everything he wanted to say, he left, leaving Hiro to his apartment and the eventual realization that he'd practically given Uesugi Tatsuha oral, if only secondhand. The impending gag session served to reaffirm his sexuality, and Hiro decided to call the evening a learning experience and forget all about it.
---end---
Forphotoash: Gravitation. Fat!Eiri.
Gravi: Fat
Shuichi didn't think much of it at first. And why should he? Eiri was between books, which meant the paparazzi rabble had died down a bit, and he was cooking -- and eating more -- at Shuichi's insistence, and he really didn't walk around the park when he wasn't trying to escape writing. So, all things considered, it made sense that Eiri would gain a few pounds. Besides, they'd melt away again once Eiri started his writing up again -- when he had to worry about his looks, when he had less time for cooking (and remembering to eat), and when he started venting his frustrations with walking and sex. Shuichi was sure of it.
What he didn't count on was Eiri not bothering to negotiate a new book contract for half a year, and still not changing his habits. So when things got bad -- really bad -- Shuichi called Tatsuha. Who else knew better how to respur Eiri's unhealthier but light-weight lifestyle than the teenager who lived an almost identical one himself?
Tatsuha, though, wasn't much help. Once Shuichi had explained the problem, Tatsuha snickered and asked, "Do you only love my brother if he's pretty?", and broke into laughter that almost screamed 'bribe me or I'll tell!'. Shuichi bought Tatsuha's silence with Nittle Grasper concert tickets, then hung up before he could cause any more damage. Then, because he was the only person Shuichi knew wouldn't laugh at this problem, Shuichi called Hiro, who listened to the story and sighed.
"Shuichi," Hiro said at last, "maybe you should talk to him about this."
"I can't!" Shuichi cried.
Hiro sighed. "Why not?"
Shuichi dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "If he gets mad, he might sit on me!"
The eyeroll was obvious, if not audible. "He can't be that bad off."
"It's pretty bad," Shuichi insisted.
"Shuichi..."
"It is," he said again. "You remember that earthquake two days ago?"
"Yeah..."
"He did it."
"What?"
"He slipped in the shower while, um, we were, um... You know."
Hiro groaned. "Thanks. I really needed that mental picture."
"You're not doing it right. You've got to imagine it while Yuki has, like, sixteen million more pounds."
"You're overreacting."
"Not a lot."
Hiro sighed again. "Look," he said. "Just... Ask him to talk a walk with you or something. Or go to the gym with you. I don't care. But he can't be that bad off. You two have the press practically beating down your door twenty-four seven. He knows how much appearance matters."
"But --"
"No," Hiro said. "He's your lover, Shuichi. Deal with him." And he hung up.
Shuichi stared mournfully at the phone for a long, long while before he sighed and put it away. Then, finally, he headed toward the bedroom, where he had left Eiri not long before. The writer was lounging in bed, reading a book, and Shuichi bit his lip before he spoke.
"You know," he said at last, "we should take a walk."
Eiri grunted and turned a page in his book.
Shuichi shut his eyes. "I mean it," he said. "A nice, long, healthy walk."
Eiri sighed and set down his book. "What do you want? If it's something stupid, I'll kill you."
"Uh..." Well, really, Eiri didn't look that bad, Shuichi decided. And his healthy walks and the like could wait. At least until Eiri was in a better mood. "Nothing!" he declared and retreated to the living room to despair with the television.
---end---
For
iamnotvoldemort: Harry Potter. Harry/Ron/Hermione porn. (I am such a dirty girl.)When Harry decided he had to get back at Fred and George Weasley for the exploding sock incident (which nearly cost him his feet, not to mention Professor McGonagall's good graces), he went first to Ron. Ron was hesitant to assist Harry out at first ("Near death experiences are no problem. Dealing with Fred and George in a prank war is bloody stupid, Harry!"), but the redhead was eventually convinced, and then the two of them went to Hermione for help. She agreed under the condition that they think of the revenge on their own ("Because this is silly, and I have three test this month and I don't have time to waste brainstorming with you two."). It only took them a few hours to actually think of something, and they went triumphant to Hermione to tell her the plan.
It didn't take much. When they explained the concept to Hermione, she nodded her head and pulled out a potions book. "There it is," she said. "A molting potion. That's what you want, I think."
The boys considered it, then nodded. "Perfect," Harry said, and Ron grinned his agreement.
It didn't take much to make the potion, either -- just a few days, and constant vigilance --, and before too long, the three of them stood grinning over the cauldron, ready to give the stuff to Fred and George. What they didn't count on was Hermione's insistence that the potion needed to be tested, and that gave them a bit of a setback.
"What?" Ron nearly shrieked, and he coughed to rid himself of the resulting raspy feeling in his throat. "Are you out of your bloody head?"
Hermione frowned. "It has to be tested," she said. "How else will we know it works?"
"But what if it kills us?"
"Then at least we'll know not to give it to your brothers," Hermione reasoned. "Now, both of you take a cup and --"
"Both of us? Why us?"
"Well, who else would do it?"
"You!"
"Me?" Hermione exclaimed. "No!"
The three of them argued over this for about twenty minutes more before they reached a truce, of sorts. With a resigned sigh, they each took a cup, toasted, and drank.
Five minutes later, they were all splayed on the floor, mostly naked and with their limbs all intertwined, and so needy that they could hardly stand it. Harry ran his lips down Ron's back even as Ron's hands traced Hermione's sides, and Hermione hooked a leg around Harry's urging him closer. Things continued in that nature for a while and once they were all satiated and considerably less tingly, Harry sighed.
"That's definitely not a molting potion," he said.
"S'just as good," Ron decided.
"How so?" Hermione murmured.
"It'll keep them too busy to bother anyone else," Ron said.
"Mm," Hermione agreed.
Harry nodded, then glanced back to the cauldron. "Maybe we should test it again," he said. "To make sure it's still good."
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances and laughed.
They tested it again, and again, and once they were done testing it, there was none left to give to Fred or George. But that was all right, too.
For
bakaduoneko: Gravitation. Tatsuha/Hiro. Hiro plays the guitar and Tatsuha sneaks up on him.There was something surprisingly alluring about the way Hiro played the guitar, and that was why Tatsuha, even though he knew about half of NG's security was on his tail, stopped outside the door to Bad Luck's studio room to listen. Hiro was alone -- for good reason, Tatsuha knew, since Shuichi had stayed home and Suguru was busily playing producer in Sakano's stead (both things Tatsuha had discovered while the receptionist downstairs tried to figure out why 'Eiri-san' was visiting the building). The guitarist also had his back to the door, so Tatsuha snuck inside the room and pressed close against the wall so the security personnel wouldn't catch sight of him. It worked; a group of about twenty guards rushed by without even glancing through the studio door, and Tatsuha silently gave thanks for all the cartoons that had ever encouraged such an escape plan. Hiro played all the way through the scene, and a closer look on Tatsuha's part revealed why: headphones.
Tatsuha grinned. Well, since it didn't look as though he'd get to find Sakuma-san after all, he should at least have a little fun while he was here, since he'd gone through all the effort of dyeing his hair and such. Right?
Of course.
That decision made, Tatsuha stepped away from the wall and toward the guitarist. Whatever he was listening to, he must have been listening to it loudly; even when Tatsuha accidentally kicked a box, the redhead didn't turn around. That was fine, though. Tatsuha used it to his advantage and snuck up close behind Hiro -- just a finger-width or two away from touching the guitarist's back.
Then Hiro ruined everything by leaning back and bumping into Tatsuha. Hiro jumped and whirled around, almost hitting Tatsuha with the neck of his guitar. Tatsuha plastered a grin on his face and waved.
"What'cha playing?" he asked. Hiro blinked and looked confused, so Tatsuha rolled his eyes and tapped the side of his head to remind Hiro about his headphones. Once Hiro had them off, Tatsuha grinned again. "What were you playing?"
"Just some song." Hiro squinted at Tatsuha. "You're Tatsuha, right? You missed a part of your hair there."
Tatsuha ran a hand through his (bleached) hair and shrugged. "It was sort of a quick thing," he explained. "I'm a busy guy."
"A busy guy in the middle of NG," Hiro said dryly. "What do you want?"
"Me?" Tatsuha asked. He tried to look affronted; it was difficult. "Why would you think I wanted something? I'm just a guy taking a stroll through NG, that's all."
Hiro arched an eyebrow. "While trying to pass yourself off as Yuki-san? What did you do that you want to blame him for, exactly?"
"Nothing!"
"I don't believe you."
Tatsuha rolled his eyes. "Are you always so distrustful?"
"Just with people in your family," Hiro answered. He fiddled with his headphones. "Are we done? I'm working."
From somewhere down the hall, Tatsuha could hear the sound of yelling. The security guards again, probably, and that meant they had backtracked and were probably being a touch more careful about checking in rooms this time. Damn. He considered Hiro quickly. Well, if he was going to get in trouble anyway, he might as well earn his punishment...
"Almost done," Tatsuha promised. "You've got some gunk on your cheek."
"Huh?" Hiro brought up a hand to get the imaginary gunk off. "Where?"
"I'll get it," Tatsuha said, and while he was leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Hiro's lips. He tangled his fingers in Hiro's hair, solely to keep the redhead still, and he was still like that when the security guards walked in, took hold of Tatsuha's arms, and forcefully dragged him upstairs, to Tohma's office.
Family or no, Tohma still reamed the life out of him, but Tatsuha felt it was almost worth it for the chance to see the shocked, almost horrified look on Hiro's face as he kissed him. And, well, maybe the next time he snuck into NG, he'd take a few minutes to pay Hiro another little visit.
For
pikachu_goddess: Gravitation. RyuichixHiro, NC-17."Come home with me," Hiro said, and that was all it took to get Ryuichi back to his apartment (and, subsequently, his bed). With the singer splayed on Hiro's bed, his legs opened and knees bent and fingers scrabbling for bed sheets or a headboard or anything that would give him that much more control (little as it was) while Hiro sucked him off, Hiro could almost forget that it had been that easy. When Ryuichi moaned, Hiro could even almost forget that he had really only intended to have the singer play video games with him all night. And of course, when Ryuichi's hands finally found their handhold in Hiro's hair and got tangled up there as the singer tried desperately not to come in Hiro's mouth, Hiro could almost forget that he'd only invited the singer over in an act of revenge -- an attempt to get back at Tatsuha for having stolen Ayaka-chan for the entire weekend (the only weekend Hiro had free this month, even) for the sake of some local fair.
Almost.
Hiro took his mouth away and, ignoring Ryuichi's mewl of protest, wiped at his lower lip. "Sorry," he murmured.
Ryuichi arched an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No."
"Right." The singer stretched out, shifting his legs a bit. One of his legs brushed against Hiro's, and the guitarist tried not to think about the knot in his stomach or just how utterly fuckable Ryuichi looked or the way his usually too-loose jeans felt too tight to be comfortable. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. He was with Ayaka and when she wasn't ditching him to spend time with Tatsuha, they were happy. He wasn't gay and he wasn't supposed to be turned on when there was a moaning, writhing, utterly gorgeous man in his bed. It wasn't his thing.
And yet here he was.
Hiro swiped some hair out of his face and shook his head. "Look, it's just that I –"
"You're not into guys," Ryuichi said, stretching again. His arms went over his head and he tilted his head back. "I know that."
"What?" Hiro furrowed his brow. "Then why did you –"
Ryuichi grinned. "That's for me to know and you to torture yourself with."
Hiro frowned. "Sakuma-san, I don't think we're talking about the same thing."
"Sure we are," the singer said. He stood from the bed. "Where's your bathroom?"
"That way," Hiro said, and pointed him in the right direction. "Then what are we talking about, exactly?"
Ryuichi shrugged and made his way to the bathroom. Once there, he shut the door, and through the door he called, "Do you know English?"
"What? Some, yes."
"They've got this expression," Ryuichi chimed. "You might know it." He switched to English then, and although Hiro knew the words, he couldn't quite put the meaning behind it. Maybe he was just too distracted by the sound of Ryuichi's voice. There was, after all, a reason the singer was an international sensation.
"Say again?"
Ryuichi laughed, although the laugh was more of a giggle. It was eerie, a little; that childlike giggle was the reason Hiro had invited Ryuichi back with him – he had thought it would be a failsafe against actually doing anything, or of going too far with his need to get back at Tatsuha. He hadn't known that the giggle would disappear almost as soon as Ryuichi stepped through the apartment door.
"Roughly translated," Ryuichi said as he opened the door and bent to pick up his pants, "it means 'Revenge is best served cold'." He put one leg through his pants and then the other. "But who likes cold food, anyway?" He finished putting on his jeans and grinned at Hiro. "Now you get it?"
"No."
Ryuichi nodded. "Mmkay," he said, and blew Hiro a kiss. "Don't worry, I'm leaving now. But do you want to tell Tatsuha-kun, or should I?"
Hiro frowned and considered Ryuichi, then stared. "You and Tatsuha are...?"
Ryuichi grinned. "You aren't the only one getting cockblocked by a fair," he teased, and gathered the rest of his clothes. Then, having apparently said everything he wanted to say, he left, leaving Hiro to his apartment and the eventual realization that he'd practically given Uesugi Tatsuha oral, if only secondhand. The impending gag session served to reaffirm his sexuality, and Hiro decided to call the evening a learning experience and forget all about it.
For
photoash: Gravitation. Fat!Eiri.Shuichi didn't think much of it at first. And why should he? Eiri was between books, which meant the paparazzi rabble had died down a bit, and he was cooking -- and eating more -- at Shuichi's insistence, and he really didn't walk around the park when he wasn't trying to escape writing. So, all things considered, it made sense that Eiri would gain a few pounds. Besides, they'd melt away again once Eiri started his writing up again -- when he had to worry about his looks, when he had less time for cooking (and remembering to eat), and when he started venting his frustrations with walking and sex. Shuichi was sure of it.
What he didn't count on was Eiri not bothering to negotiate a new book contract for half a year, and still not changing his habits. So when things got bad -- really bad -- Shuichi called Tatsuha. Who else knew better how to respur Eiri's unhealthier but light-weight lifestyle than the teenager who lived an almost identical one himself?
Tatsuha, though, wasn't much help. Once Shuichi had explained the problem, Tatsuha snickered and asked, "Do you only love my brother if he's pretty?", and broke into laughter that almost screamed 'bribe me or I'll tell!'. Shuichi bought Tatsuha's silence with Nittle Grasper concert tickets, then hung up before he could cause any more damage. Then, because he was the only person Shuichi knew wouldn't laugh at this problem, Shuichi called Hiro, who listened to the story and sighed.
"Shuichi," Hiro said at last, "maybe you should talk to him about this."
"I can't!" Shuichi cried.
Hiro sighed. "Why not?"
Shuichi dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "If he gets mad, he might sit on me!"
The eyeroll was obvious, if not audible. "He can't be that bad off."
"It's pretty bad," Shuichi insisted.
"Shuichi..."
"It is," he said again. "You remember that earthquake two days ago?"
"Yeah..."
"He did it."
"What?"
"He slipped in the shower while, um, we were, um... You know."
Hiro groaned. "Thanks. I really needed that mental picture."
"You're not doing it right. You've got to imagine it while Yuki has, like, sixteen million more pounds."
"You're overreacting."
"Not a lot."
Hiro sighed again. "Look," he said. "Just... Ask him to talk a walk with you or something. Or go to the gym with you. I don't care. But he can't be that bad off. You two have the press practically beating down your door twenty-four seven. He knows how much appearance matters."
"But --"
"No," Hiro said. "He's your lover, Shuichi. Deal with him." And he hung up.
Shuichi stared mournfully at the phone for a long, long while before he sighed and put it away. Then, finally, he headed toward the bedroom, where he had left Eiri not long before. The writer was lounging in bed, reading a book, and Shuichi bit his lip before he spoke.
"You know," he said at last, "we should take a walk."
Eiri grunted and turned a page in his book.
Shuichi shut his eyes. "I mean it," he said. "A nice, long, healthy walk."
Eiri sighed and set down his book. "What do you want? If it's something stupid, I'll kill you."
"Uh..." Well, really, Eiri didn't look that bad, Shuichi decided. And his healthy walks and the like could wait. At least until Eiri was in a better mood. "Nothing!" he declared and retreated to the living room to despair with the television.
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ahhh I had missed your wonderful writing *hugs* I hope you come out of 'retirement' soon!
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Retirement is a dirty word. XD It's a prolonged break.
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That porn pin is really going to come in handy, isn't it? XD
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Hiro/Ryu was awesome, and so was the Tatsu/Hiro. I've never seen Tatsu/Hiro fic before, so it makes me happy inside. Wrong though it is. ^^ Cheers!
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You've never seen Tatsuha/Hiro before? Wow. And it's not nearly as wrong as, say... Well, K/Tatsuha, for instance. That's pedophilia in the finest of forms. (...although the pairing actually doesn't bug me. Hm.)
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That reminded me of an RP I was doing with Caro recently. It's just the funniest concept, and hardest to imagine, but it sure makes for a good drabble~! :D Thank you for sharing! Great work, hon! *lmao* XDDDDDD
~*Regina*~
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XD I think everything I do reminds you of an rp, and that's absolutely amazing to me. It's wonderful.
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Fat!Eiri and unshaven!Eiri should have a duel.
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Beer belly?no subject