Random bits and pieces of D1
Apr. 4th, 2007 11:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
firstlightPoking through my drafts folder again. Things I will almost certainly never finish and do not, in fact, remember the origin of (though I can take a guess). All D1, none actually properly titled even:
1. Niou and glasses
One of Niou's secrets - and Niou is almost nothing but secrets, little private things known only to him and sometimes Yagyuu, which is almost the same thing anyway - is that he needs glasses too. It's relatively recent, only since late in high school, and somehow it amuses Yagyuu greatly, though it shouldn't. It amuses Niou, too.
"I'm becoming you," he'd murmured to Yagyuu, amused, after that first time the optician told him he was becoming short-sighted and needed lenses or contacts.
Because Niou is Niou, he has always worn contacts instead of glasses. The less people know about you the better, he says. Why show weaknesses if you don't have to?
Niou always thinks in terms of strengths and weaknesses, things to play off of and use.
"And I don't need glasses to wear like a mask. Not like some people."
An easy grin, a teasing note in his voice, a hand shoving lightly at Yagyuu's shoulder.
Only Niou.
2. Random foreplay
Niou wakes up to the sound of wind and opens his eyes to blackness - blinks a few times, his half-awake mind wondering for a moment if this is what being blind is like. None of the faint glow from streetlights, from the digital clock on his bedside table, from the hall light. It's disorientating, surreal. He could be anywhere, he thinks. It takes him longer than it should to drift far enough awake to remember that actually, this is Yagyuu's room, Yagyuu's bed. It's still too dark, regardless - the power must be off. Experimentally, he reaches out in the darkness until his hand encounters warmth, bare skin, then the fabric of Yagyuu's t-shirt.
Yagyuu stirs a little. He can't see but he feels it, hears Yagyuu's breathing shift.
"What time is it?" he asks, voice drowsy and quiet.
"Fucked if I know." Some time in the middle of the night. Everyone else must be asleep - there's no noise he can hear from inside the house. Everything is coming from outside. Niou finds himself speaking as quietly as Yagyuu almost in spite of himself. "Guess there's a powercut. Shit, it's cold."
"Mm," Yagyuu agrees, and presses an icy hand to Niou's stomach to show that he isn't the only one suffering. Niou swears again, hissed between clenched teeth, and fights to move away without much success. Yagyuu can be a bastard. Really.
"I'm not a hot water bottle," he adds a minute or so later, when Yagyuu shows no sign of removing his hand. At least some of the coldness is starting to go now. He'd be prepared to bet that Yagyuu is smirking, inches away in the darkness.
"You appear to be doing a good job as one."
Yeah. Definitely smirking. He doesn't need to see to know.
"Oh, fuck you." It's a half-hearted protest and he knows it. Yagyuu knows it too. A hint of laughter, just about suppressed. Fingers which are by now only cool, not ice-cold, slide across his skin - work their way further up under his pyjamas, across his chest, and then vanish.
He's being teased. Fucking bastard.
It feels as though his eyes should be adjusting to the dark, but when he looks over at the place he knows Yagyuu is lying he still can't make anything out. He rolls over onto his side, waves his hand experimentally in front of his face - not even a hint of motion.
The potential is obvious, and even though he's figured it out it still takes a lot of willpower to keep quiet as Yagyuu's hands ghost over his skin, little touches here and there, getting more and more certain as Yagyuu figures out where he is.
"You want to...?" Niou breathes, reaching out blindly, letting his hand trail down the length of Yagyuu's body until it rests on his hip, slides just a little further, stops just short of touching...
A still, silent moment, and then Yagyuu hums his agreement, the sound dying in a gasp as Niou, grinning to himself, moves his hand those last few centimetres and exacts a kind of revenge. It's petty, this little game of theirs - playing for a reaction, to keep control for just a little bit longer than the other - but it satisfies him immensely to win it. And really, like this, neither of them is exactly losing. Well, Yagyuu certainly seems to be enjoying himself.
Niou is pleased but not surprised when a hand manages to hook around his neck, tugging him in, tangling in his hair. Yagyuu's other hand knocks against his cheek, unintentionally rough on first contact, then gentle, tracing the lines of his face until a thumb rests against his lips, parts them slightly, withdraws.It's barely a half-second, though, before Yagyuu's mouth takes its place, cold lips and warm breath, enticing as ever.
In the darkness, Niou thinks, they could be anyone. It makes no difference still if his eyes are open or closed, and the sensory deprivation is intriguing.
"You're thinking something," Yagyuu murmurs against his lips. Niou laughs.
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
A hand runs up his side, pushes his shirt out of the way. If he shivers it's because of cold air as the cover gets knocked aside a bit - that's all.
Yeah, right.
"Tell me," Yagyuu adds, and kisses him, soft tongue brushing across his lips for just a moment.
It seems weird to say it out loud - just the shadow of something from a long time ago. Not that weirdness bothers Niou.
"When it's this dark, I can't see who you are."
Without Yagyuu's expression to guide him there's a moment of uncertainty where he wonders how Yagyuu will take it - if he will understand.
"Ah," Yagyuu says. A pause. "Who do you want me to be?"
"That's not the point," Niou breathes, though maybe it is. Kind of. He bites lightly at Yagyuu's lip, grins. "Who do you want to be?"
3. Distance
"I don't need you looking after me," Niou told Yagyuu the first time he showed up, but he'd let Yagyuu in anyway, made him one of the worst cups of tea he'd ever drunk, watched him almost awkwardly. He almost looked as though he had something to say and didn't know how to say it.
Only Niou was never awkward, and said whatever he wanted; which meant Yagyuu must have been imagining things.
"Don't you mind?" Niou asked the second time, watching Yagyuu, not stepping aside to let him in. "It's a fucking long way."
Tension, far too much of it, until it felt as though Yagyuu should just kiss Niou and have done with it - explanation and advance in one move.
They hovered awkwardly like that, Yagyuu aching to close the space and holding himself back - too much, too complicated - until Yagyuu found it in himself to shrug, smile faintly. "It isn't too bad."
"Right," Niou muttered, finally stepped aside, not meeting Yagyuu's eyes. "Right."
The third time he visited, after too long a gap, tired from exams and irritated with his family, Niou had a bottle of sake waiting for him, as though he knew Yagyuu would be there, though he hadn't warned in advance. He'd half expected that Niou wouldn't be home, would be out socialising or causing trouble or who knew what, but he walked in to find Niou sprawled carelessly forward across his table, watching the door, as though he'd been waiting.
"Did you know how distinctive your footsteps are?" Niou asked him, slightly slurred, and Yagyuu noted that the contents of the bottle had already been dented a bit.
"I do now," he said mildly, settling himself in the chair across from Niou, taking the alcohol gratefully when it was offered. "Niou..."
"Shut up and drink up," Niou said, looking fully prepared to dismiss any arguments which Yagyuu might come up with. Not that he felt like arguing.
The alcohol didn't so much seem to unfocus the world as adjust his perspective on it, until it hardly seemed surprising when they found themselves on Niou's bed, Yagyuu sitting with his back against the cold plaster of the wall, Niou with his head in Yagyuu's lap, eyes closed, looking contented. A little like a huge cat, self-satisfied and utterly comfortable wherever he found himself.
Somehow, Yagyuu never thought that Niou would be such a docile drunk, but with his friend trying to get so close to him, being so affectionate, he couldn't find it in himself to comment.
It was only when Niou sat up, swaying slightly, and tangled his hand in Yagyuu's hair, leaning in for a kiss, that Yagyuu realised through the alcohol haze that on some level or other this was a really bad idea.
But he was drunk too, and lonely, and he'd missed Niou more than he could possibly express; wanted Niou for longer than he cared to admit.
Waking up the next morning didn't rank as one of the most pleasant experiences he'd ever had, with his head pounding and hazy half-formed memories of the two of them kissing, touching--
Niou wasn't in the bed with him. He wasn't in the flat at all.
"Shit," Yagyuu muttered, because for all he was the gentleman, the well-spoken one out of the two of them, he couldn't think of a better way to express his feelings right then.
He took a shower, grateful that at least Niou's weird little flat had a good bathroom; stood under the water for who knew how long, letting it wash away the worst of the hangover and drag him a little closer to properly awake. Then he got dressed, collected his small bag from the kitchen, and was almost out of the door when it occurred to him that there'd been a folded piece of paper on the kitchen table.
Directions on where to find things for breakfast (shockingly ordinary, almost), and a brief apology. Tennis practice; back at 12.
He hadn't even known Niou was still playing tennis. It felt sort of odd, perhaps because he'd stopped, and in his mind it was something about the two of them. Even when they weren't playing doubles, or weren't playing doubles with each other.
A part of him wanted to go down to the courts and watch, but Niou hadn't said where he was playing.
"I didn't know you still played," Yagyuu commented when Niou returned, dropping his bag by the door and heading straight for the shower.
"That's because you don't pay attention," Niou shot back, and the door to the bathroom snicked shut, leaving Yagyuu staring at it.
The hangover still wasn't quite gone. He didn't need this.
"Were you expecting me?" He asked later, less fuzzy-headed but no less awkward.
Niou shrugged. "You expect a straight answer?"
"For me? Yes."
"No. I was expecting to get wasted and jerk myself off thinking of some asshole who can't even be bothered to visit regularly."
"Niou--"
"Or maybe I was expecting you." Niou still looks as wild when he grins as ever. "I guess you'll just have to wonder, huh?"
1. Niou and glasses
One of Niou's secrets - and Niou is almost nothing but secrets, little private things known only to him and sometimes Yagyuu, which is almost the same thing anyway - is that he needs glasses too. It's relatively recent, only since late in high school, and somehow it amuses Yagyuu greatly, though it shouldn't. It amuses Niou, too.
"I'm becoming you," he'd murmured to Yagyuu, amused, after that first time the optician told him he was becoming short-sighted and needed lenses or contacts.
Because Niou is Niou, he has always worn contacts instead of glasses. The less people know about you the better, he says. Why show weaknesses if you don't have to?
Niou always thinks in terms of strengths and weaknesses, things to play off of and use.
"And I don't need glasses to wear like a mask. Not like some people."
An easy grin, a teasing note in his voice, a hand shoving lightly at Yagyuu's shoulder.
Only Niou.
2. Random foreplay
Niou wakes up to the sound of wind and opens his eyes to blackness - blinks a few times, his half-awake mind wondering for a moment if this is what being blind is like. None of the faint glow from streetlights, from the digital clock on his bedside table, from the hall light. It's disorientating, surreal. He could be anywhere, he thinks. It takes him longer than it should to drift far enough awake to remember that actually, this is Yagyuu's room, Yagyuu's bed. It's still too dark, regardless - the power must be off. Experimentally, he reaches out in the darkness until his hand encounters warmth, bare skin, then the fabric of Yagyuu's t-shirt.
Yagyuu stirs a little. He can't see but he feels it, hears Yagyuu's breathing shift.
"What time is it?" he asks, voice drowsy and quiet.
"Fucked if I know." Some time in the middle of the night. Everyone else must be asleep - there's no noise he can hear from inside the house. Everything is coming from outside. Niou finds himself speaking as quietly as Yagyuu almost in spite of himself. "Guess there's a powercut. Shit, it's cold."
"Mm," Yagyuu agrees, and presses an icy hand to Niou's stomach to show that he isn't the only one suffering. Niou swears again, hissed between clenched teeth, and fights to move away without much success. Yagyuu can be a bastard. Really.
"I'm not a hot water bottle," he adds a minute or so later, when Yagyuu shows no sign of removing his hand. At least some of the coldness is starting to go now. He'd be prepared to bet that Yagyuu is smirking, inches away in the darkness.
"You appear to be doing a good job as one."
Yeah. Definitely smirking. He doesn't need to see to know.
"Oh, fuck you." It's a half-hearted protest and he knows it. Yagyuu knows it too. A hint of laughter, just about suppressed. Fingers which are by now only cool, not ice-cold, slide across his skin - work their way further up under his pyjamas, across his chest, and then vanish.
He's being teased. Fucking bastard.
It feels as though his eyes should be adjusting to the dark, but when he looks over at the place he knows Yagyuu is lying he still can't make anything out. He rolls over onto his side, waves his hand experimentally in front of his face - not even a hint of motion.
The potential is obvious, and even though he's figured it out it still takes a lot of willpower to keep quiet as Yagyuu's hands ghost over his skin, little touches here and there, getting more and more certain as Yagyuu figures out where he is.
"You want to...?" Niou breathes, reaching out blindly, letting his hand trail down the length of Yagyuu's body until it rests on his hip, slides just a little further, stops just short of touching...
A still, silent moment, and then Yagyuu hums his agreement, the sound dying in a gasp as Niou, grinning to himself, moves his hand those last few centimetres and exacts a kind of revenge. It's petty, this little game of theirs - playing for a reaction, to keep control for just a little bit longer than the other - but it satisfies him immensely to win it. And really, like this, neither of them is exactly losing. Well, Yagyuu certainly seems to be enjoying himself.
Niou is pleased but not surprised when a hand manages to hook around his neck, tugging him in, tangling in his hair. Yagyuu's other hand knocks against his cheek, unintentionally rough on first contact, then gentle, tracing the lines of his face until a thumb rests against his lips, parts them slightly, withdraws.It's barely a half-second, though, before Yagyuu's mouth takes its place, cold lips and warm breath, enticing as ever.
In the darkness, Niou thinks, they could be anyone. It makes no difference still if his eyes are open or closed, and the sensory deprivation is intriguing.
"You're thinking something," Yagyuu murmurs against his lips. Niou laughs.
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
A hand runs up his side, pushes his shirt out of the way. If he shivers it's because of cold air as the cover gets knocked aside a bit - that's all.
Yeah, right.
"Tell me," Yagyuu adds, and kisses him, soft tongue brushing across his lips for just a moment.
It seems weird to say it out loud - just the shadow of something from a long time ago. Not that weirdness bothers Niou.
"When it's this dark, I can't see who you are."
Without Yagyuu's expression to guide him there's a moment of uncertainty where he wonders how Yagyuu will take it - if he will understand.
"Ah," Yagyuu says. A pause. "Who do you want me to be?"
"That's not the point," Niou breathes, though maybe it is. Kind of. He bites lightly at Yagyuu's lip, grins. "Who do you want to be?"
3. Distance
"I don't need you looking after me," Niou told Yagyuu the first time he showed up, but he'd let Yagyuu in anyway, made him one of the worst cups of tea he'd ever drunk, watched him almost awkwardly. He almost looked as though he had something to say and didn't know how to say it.
Only Niou was never awkward, and said whatever he wanted; which meant Yagyuu must have been imagining things.
"Don't you mind?" Niou asked the second time, watching Yagyuu, not stepping aside to let him in. "It's a fucking long way."
Tension, far too much of it, until it felt as though Yagyuu should just kiss Niou and have done with it - explanation and advance in one move.
They hovered awkwardly like that, Yagyuu aching to close the space and holding himself back - too much, too complicated - until Yagyuu found it in himself to shrug, smile faintly. "It isn't too bad."
"Right," Niou muttered, finally stepped aside, not meeting Yagyuu's eyes. "Right."
The third time he visited, after too long a gap, tired from exams and irritated with his family, Niou had a bottle of sake waiting for him, as though he knew Yagyuu would be there, though he hadn't warned in advance. He'd half expected that Niou wouldn't be home, would be out socialising or causing trouble or who knew what, but he walked in to find Niou sprawled carelessly forward across his table, watching the door, as though he'd been waiting.
"Did you know how distinctive your footsteps are?" Niou asked him, slightly slurred, and Yagyuu noted that the contents of the bottle had already been dented a bit.
"I do now," he said mildly, settling himself in the chair across from Niou, taking the alcohol gratefully when it was offered. "Niou..."
"Shut up and drink up," Niou said, looking fully prepared to dismiss any arguments which Yagyuu might come up with. Not that he felt like arguing.
The alcohol didn't so much seem to unfocus the world as adjust his perspective on it, until it hardly seemed surprising when they found themselves on Niou's bed, Yagyuu sitting with his back against the cold plaster of the wall, Niou with his head in Yagyuu's lap, eyes closed, looking contented. A little like a huge cat, self-satisfied and utterly comfortable wherever he found himself.
Somehow, Yagyuu never thought that Niou would be such a docile drunk, but with his friend trying to get so close to him, being so affectionate, he couldn't find it in himself to comment.
It was only when Niou sat up, swaying slightly, and tangled his hand in Yagyuu's hair, leaning in for a kiss, that Yagyuu realised through the alcohol haze that on some level or other this was a really bad idea.
But he was drunk too, and lonely, and he'd missed Niou more than he could possibly express; wanted Niou for longer than he cared to admit.
Waking up the next morning didn't rank as one of the most pleasant experiences he'd ever had, with his head pounding and hazy half-formed memories of the two of them kissing, touching--
Niou wasn't in the bed with him. He wasn't in the flat at all.
"Shit," Yagyuu muttered, because for all he was the gentleman, the well-spoken one out of the two of them, he couldn't think of a better way to express his feelings right then.
He took a shower, grateful that at least Niou's weird little flat had a good bathroom; stood under the water for who knew how long, letting it wash away the worst of the hangover and drag him a little closer to properly awake. Then he got dressed, collected his small bag from the kitchen, and was almost out of the door when it occurred to him that there'd been a folded piece of paper on the kitchen table.
Directions on where to find things for breakfast (shockingly ordinary, almost), and a brief apology. Tennis practice; back at 12.
He hadn't even known Niou was still playing tennis. It felt sort of odd, perhaps because he'd stopped, and in his mind it was something about the two of them. Even when they weren't playing doubles, or weren't playing doubles with each other.
A part of him wanted to go down to the courts and watch, but Niou hadn't said where he was playing.
"I didn't know you still played," Yagyuu commented when Niou returned, dropping his bag by the door and heading straight for the shower.
"That's because you don't pay attention," Niou shot back, and the door to the bathroom snicked shut, leaving Yagyuu staring at it.
The hangover still wasn't quite gone. He didn't need this.
"Were you expecting me?" He asked later, less fuzzy-headed but no less awkward.
Niou shrugged. "You expect a straight answer?"
"For me? Yes."
"No. I was expecting to get wasted and jerk myself off thinking of some asshole who can't even be bothered to visit regularly."
"Niou--"
"Or maybe I was expecting you." Niou still looks as wild when he grins as ever. "I guess you'll just have to wonder, huh?"
