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petroniaSo I take it back. There *is* good IniD fic in English, just that it's all PWP of the highest never-explain-never-complain order. And there's not a lot of it. And it's never for the obvious pairings. So I read Japanese fic. So... my fic reads like Japanese. It's got that slightly kilted Japanese quality to it, where events derive one from the other according to *some* emotional logic, but you're not quite sure what - isn't the moon blue tonight, I love you, etc. Possibly this is cool; possibly this means that I suck. The roses are there because I needed an excuse to use the word 'glassine'. I think it's a nifty word. Glassine glassine glassine.
(Every January I write a story about someone freezing their butt off in the snow. Except for uhh the year I wrote MitM, which is about a heat wave. See Sabina. See Sabina in winter denial.)
I advise you not to read this if you're not actually a rabid IniD yaoi fan. The WAFF may kill you, and you wouldn't even know *why*.
(Continuity note: there's going to be seven, eight scenes to this. The first I wrote back in December. The second is mostly mental rambling, and is blocked out. The third needs for me to watch a part of the anime that my mother's hidden. The fourth is a straight rewrite of the manga. The fifth is short, and will be done this week. So this is the sixth.)
[ Mt. Akina, 4:55AM ]
"For you."
Takumi blinked. Reflex made him take the bouquet, his gloved hands curling awkwardly around the length of ribbon binding the stems together. White. White roses this time, the dark mass of leaves more striking than the petals against the background of snow. Where did one *find* these things, in the middle of the night in January?
Maybe it wasn't hard, if one was Takahashi Ryousuke.
"I thought it would be appropriate," Ryousuke said. He took a few steps forward toward the railing; he had buried his hands in his jacket pockets, his only apparent concession to the cold. "As a formal gesture."
"Eh?"
"I've never called a truce with anyone before," Ryousuke said, smiling over his shoulder. Takumi met his eyes and - startled - felt himself beginning to blush. He looked away quickly. The glassine around the roses crumpled audibly under his grip.
It was the same feeling. That night...
Ryousuke was quiet, gazing out. Visibility was low; the lowlying hills below them were shrouded in darkness. The twin beams of the FC's headlights behind him illuminated only falling snow, feathery white against black caught for a brief moment in the light before drifting down, and past. He stared at the phenomenon until a strange hypnotic sense overcame him, as if time itself were slowing to match the leisurely pace of that downward motion. There was no wind. The snow fell with a ponderous stillness. It filled the air, thick enough to breathe, brief flashes of cold as flakes settled on warm metal, wool, eyelashes and hair and skin. Stand there long enough and it would cover windshields, bury tires, blur the tracks they'd left driving up, until it would be difficult to tell that anyone had come this way at all--
"Ryousuke-san?"
Ryousuke stirred, coming out of his reverie. "It's quiet up here," he said finally. "Almost like being on the edge of the world. Isn't it?"
There was no answer from Takumi, but his gaze on Ryousuke was wondering. Ryousuke smiled ruefully and stepped away from the railing, back into the trampled and well-lit quadrant between their respective vehicles. "Are you cold?"
Takumi blinked, and stamped his feet experimentally as Ryousuke reached his side. "A little, but..."
"I'm terribly cold," Ryousuke said, took Takumi by the shoulders, leant over the flowers the other boy still clutched reflexively and kissed him. it was a brief affair, the chastest brush of lips. A snowflake against bare skin. Takumi was warm, surprisingly so; Ryousuke could feel his sharp intake of breath at the unexpected touch. He drew back and opened his eyes. Takumi stared up at him soundlessly, hazel-green eyes wide. his lips were parted as if to say something, in protest or surprise, but no words came. Then the moment passed, and Ryousuke was leaning forward to kiss him again - deeper, more insistently, pressing him back against the driver's side door of the 86 - not thinking of anything, really, least of all what this meant. And Takumi didn't get a second chance to protest.
They were both somewhat breathless when Ryousuke finally pulled away, with no clear idea of how long the one sweet still moment had lasted. He took a deep breath, centering himself again, then had to laugh as the other boy's shell-shocked expression came into focus. Takumi blushed furiously.
"What was that for," he mumbled. Ryousuke kept his smile as he stepped back to his own car.
"I envy you," he said. "You're... you're at the beginning of things. You have no idea of how far you'll be able to go. And all the time in the world to get there..." The door opened and he slid into the familiar seat; harness closed, the knob for defrost, wipers on to remove the snow. "I'll send someone over later in the week with the paperwork, if you want to have a look at whom and what we have together so far. The support team is essentially settled, at least in terms of human-resource allocation, but there are schedules and dynamics to consider... Group practice starts up whenever racing conditions return. Probably late March. And you have my number, of course." He looked up, aware suddenly that he was speaking too fast. "Is that all right?"
Takumi nodded. He was still flushed, but he met Ryousuke's gaze straight on. "See you in March then," he said. "Ryousuke-san."
March. Two months to prepare until then; a year after that to push them as fast as they will go, as far as he was able. For Keisuke's sake, for this boy's, for his own. "See you... Fujiwara Takumi."
And he put the FC into reverse.
(Every January I write a story about someone freezing their butt off in the snow. Except for uhh the year I wrote MitM, which is about a heat wave. See Sabina. See Sabina in winter denial.)
I advise you not to read this if you're not actually a rabid IniD yaoi fan. The WAFF may kill you, and you wouldn't even know *why*.
(Continuity note: there's going to be seven, eight scenes to this. The first I wrote back in December. The second is mostly mental rambling, and is blocked out. The third needs for me to watch a part of the anime that my mother's hidden. The fourth is a straight rewrite of the manga. The fifth is short, and will be done this week. So this is the sixth.)
[ Mt. Akina, 4:55AM ]
"For you."
Takumi blinked. Reflex made him take the bouquet, his gloved hands curling awkwardly around the length of ribbon binding the stems together. White. White roses this time, the dark mass of leaves more striking than the petals against the background of snow. Where did one *find* these things, in the middle of the night in January?
Maybe it wasn't hard, if one was Takahashi Ryousuke.
"I thought it would be appropriate," Ryousuke said. He took a few steps forward toward the railing; he had buried his hands in his jacket pockets, his only apparent concession to the cold. "As a formal gesture."
"Eh?"
"I've never called a truce with anyone before," Ryousuke said, smiling over his shoulder. Takumi met his eyes and - startled - felt himself beginning to blush. He looked away quickly. The glassine around the roses crumpled audibly under his grip.
It was the same feeling. That night...
Ryousuke was quiet, gazing out. Visibility was low; the lowlying hills below them were shrouded in darkness. The twin beams of the FC's headlights behind him illuminated only falling snow, feathery white against black caught for a brief moment in the light before drifting down, and past. He stared at the phenomenon until a strange hypnotic sense overcame him, as if time itself were slowing to match the leisurely pace of that downward motion. There was no wind. The snow fell with a ponderous stillness. It filled the air, thick enough to breathe, brief flashes of cold as flakes settled on warm metal, wool, eyelashes and hair and skin. Stand there long enough and it would cover windshields, bury tires, blur the tracks they'd left driving up, until it would be difficult to tell that anyone had come this way at all--
"Ryousuke-san?"
Ryousuke stirred, coming out of his reverie. "It's quiet up here," he said finally. "Almost like being on the edge of the world. Isn't it?"
There was no answer from Takumi, but his gaze on Ryousuke was wondering. Ryousuke smiled ruefully and stepped away from the railing, back into the trampled and well-lit quadrant between their respective vehicles. "Are you cold?"
Takumi blinked, and stamped his feet experimentally as Ryousuke reached his side. "A little, but..."
"I'm terribly cold," Ryousuke said, took Takumi by the shoulders, leant over the flowers the other boy still clutched reflexively and kissed him. it was a brief affair, the chastest brush of lips. A snowflake against bare skin. Takumi was warm, surprisingly so; Ryousuke could feel his sharp intake of breath at the unexpected touch. He drew back and opened his eyes. Takumi stared up at him soundlessly, hazel-green eyes wide. his lips were parted as if to say something, in protest or surprise, but no words came. Then the moment passed, and Ryousuke was leaning forward to kiss him again - deeper, more insistently, pressing him back against the driver's side door of the 86 - not thinking of anything, really, least of all what this meant. And Takumi didn't get a second chance to protest.
They were both somewhat breathless when Ryousuke finally pulled away, with no clear idea of how long the one sweet still moment had lasted. He took a deep breath, centering himself again, then had to laugh as the other boy's shell-shocked expression came into focus. Takumi blushed furiously.
"What was that for," he mumbled. Ryousuke kept his smile as he stepped back to his own car.
"I envy you," he said. "You're... you're at the beginning of things. You have no idea of how far you'll be able to go. And all the time in the world to get there..." The door opened and he slid into the familiar seat; harness closed, the knob for defrost, wipers on to remove the snow. "I'll send someone over later in the week with the paperwork, if you want to have a look at whom and what we have together so far. The support team is essentially settled, at least in terms of human-resource allocation, but there are schedules and dynamics to consider... Group practice starts up whenever racing conditions return. Probably late March. And you have my number, of course." He looked up, aware suddenly that he was speaking too fast. "Is that all right?"
Takumi nodded. He was still flushed, but he met Ryousuke's gaze straight on. "See you in March then," he said. "Ryousuke-san."
March. Two months to prepare until then; a year after that to push them as fast as they will go, as far as he was able. For Keisuke's sake, for this boy's, for his own. "See you... Fujiwara Takumi."
And he put the FC into reverse.
