[FIC] Fears
Dec. 10th, 2010 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pergamondBecause monarchist told me I'd been slacking off...
Rating: PG
Character(s): Yukimura Seiichi & Sanada Genichirou
Disclaimer: This is fanfic, all rights remain with Konomi
Notes: Unrelated to all other fic ^_^
Yukimura carried the kettle to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water splashed through the lid in a tinkling of droplets on metal. With a controlled motion, Yukimura rotated the handle to draw the flow to a slow halt. Violet eyes picked out the water level as it steadied just below the ‘two cup’ mark. Placing the kettle on the kitchen counter, he took a cup from the drying rack and filled it, adding the necessary measure to bring the liquid to the exact required place.
Behind him, Sanada was propped against the kitchen doorframe. His arms were folded across his chest as he watched the precise execution of the tea making process before him. Yukimura did not look up at him as he moved across to the hob, lighting the gas and placing the kettle over the flame. His fingers tapped lightly on the ceramic controls as he waited for the water to boil.
There was a slight creak of protest from the wood as Sanada straightened. From the corner of his eye, Yukimura saw him walk to a cupboard and take down two cups. Sanada placed them next to the hob and stood looking at him in silence.
Neither of them had ever been ones for small talk. Yukimura would occasionally discuss his plants and plans for the school herb garden. Sanada would listen without comment but Yukimura hoped that the information would prevent him using the tall sunflowers as supplementary kendo dummies. The rest of the time they talked tennis, but that could hardly be considered idle chat. They had never needed more than this to understand each other until now.
The problem was that there were no words to express what Yukimura was feeling. The nearest analogies he had found revolved around flimsy teenage girls expressing their unoriginal panics in agony aunt columns. For some one who had faced death for the sport he loved, the comparison was laughable. Fear was not an emotion Yukimura did. Period.
The kettle whistled shrilly, cutting through the silence that had never been breakable before. Yukimura rotated the gas control to the ‘off’ position and poured the water into the two cups. It was only when Sanada made no move to take his did Yukimura realise he had forgotten to add the tea.
Smoothly, he walked over to the cupboard and collected a second set of cups. Spooning out the tea leaves into the strainer, he set it on the new containers, pouring the hot water from the first cup into the second. He passed one of these to Sanada, who took it without a word.
They walked from the kitchen to the living room, sitting on the sofa and switching on the television. Yukimura idly flicked through the cable channels -- purchased by his parents so he could keep up with the international tennis tournaments -- without really looking at their content. He stopped on one in which an American talk show host was trying to keep the peace between two of the show’s guests.
“Genichirou.” Yukimura did not turn to look at his companion, his eyes glued to the couple on the screen who were being kept apart by two burly looking security men. “I have been thinking about our relationship.”
He felt the dark gaze upon him although Sanada made no move to interrupt him. On the TV, the man was persuaded to sit down, but the woman was still on her feet. Her finger waggled obnoxiously.
“You must have been thinking about the next step.” Yukimura took a long drink from his tea. It burned his throat as he swallowed. “I am .... concerned .... that it would compromise my game in the Kanto tournament.” He turned to meet Sanada’s eyes squarely. “From the inevitable bruising.”
Sanada shrugged, turning away from Yukimura and leaning back against the sofa. “Then we won’t do it.”
Yukimura considered him silently for a long moment. “Does that bother you?”
Sanada’s eyes were fixed ahead to the woman who had now also returned to her seat and was sobbing into her hands. “No.”
Yukimura waited, violet eyes trained on his fukubuchou and lover until the other realised that his answer had been insufficient. Sanada glanced at him and then returned his attention to the TV.
“It’s just sex, Seiichi. The act is not important to our relationship.”
Oh. Yukimura slowly rotated back to the screen, tucking his legs up underneath him. Well, that resolved the problem then.
The man on the chat show now had an arm around his sobbing girlfriend. “It’s ok, sweetie,” he crooned. “You just freaked out about our relationship first, that’s all. You need to trust my level head. Leave the deep thinking to me.”
Yukimura’s gaze flicked over to the other side of the sofa. Sanada remained watching the set, seemingly impassively. Yukimura’s eyes narrowed. The corners of Sanada’s mouth did the smallest of twitches.
Forcing his eyes back to the ridiculous program, Yukimura flopped back against the padded cushions, his arms falling loosely to his sides.
Fingers slid into one palm and squeezed. Without diverting his gaze, Yukimura squeezed back.
monarchist told me I'd been slacking off...Rating: PG
Character(s): Yukimura Seiichi & Sanada Genichirou
Disclaimer: This is fanfic, all rights remain with Konomi
Notes: Unrelated to all other fic ^_^
Yukimura carried the kettle to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water splashed through the lid in a tinkling of droplets on metal. With a controlled motion, Yukimura rotated the handle to draw the flow to a slow halt. Violet eyes picked out the water level as it steadied just below the ‘two cup’ mark. Placing the kettle on the kitchen counter, he took a cup from the drying rack and filled it, adding the necessary measure to bring the liquid to the exact required place.
Behind him, Sanada was propped against the kitchen doorframe. His arms were folded across his chest as he watched the precise execution of the tea making process before him. Yukimura did not look up at him as he moved across to the hob, lighting the gas and placing the kettle over the flame. His fingers tapped lightly on the ceramic controls as he waited for the water to boil.
There was a slight creak of protest from the wood as Sanada straightened. From the corner of his eye, Yukimura saw him walk to a cupboard and take down two cups. Sanada placed them next to the hob and stood looking at him in silence.
Neither of them had ever been ones for small talk. Yukimura would occasionally discuss his plants and plans for the school herb garden. Sanada would listen without comment but Yukimura hoped that the information would prevent him using the tall sunflowers as supplementary kendo dummies. The rest of the time they talked tennis, but that could hardly be considered idle chat. They had never needed more than this to understand each other until now.
The problem was that there were no words to express what Yukimura was feeling. The nearest analogies he had found revolved around flimsy teenage girls expressing their unoriginal panics in agony aunt columns. For some one who had faced death for the sport he loved, the comparison was laughable. Fear was not an emotion Yukimura did. Period.
The kettle whistled shrilly, cutting through the silence that had never been breakable before. Yukimura rotated the gas control to the ‘off’ position and poured the water into the two cups. It was only when Sanada made no move to take his did Yukimura realise he had forgotten to add the tea.
Smoothly, he walked over to the cupboard and collected a second set of cups. Spooning out the tea leaves into the strainer, he set it on the new containers, pouring the hot water from the first cup into the second. He passed one of these to Sanada, who took it without a word.
They walked from the kitchen to the living room, sitting on the sofa and switching on the television. Yukimura idly flicked through the cable channels -- purchased by his parents so he could keep up with the international tennis tournaments -- without really looking at their content. He stopped on one in which an American talk show host was trying to keep the peace between two of the show’s guests.
“Genichirou.” Yukimura did not turn to look at his companion, his eyes glued to the couple on the screen who were being kept apart by two burly looking security men. “I have been thinking about our relationship.”
He felt the dark gaze upon him although Sanada made no move to interrupt him. On the TV, the man was persuaded to sit down, but the woman was still on her feet. Her finger waggled obnoxiously.
“You must have been thinking about the next step.” Yukimura took a long drink from his tea. It burned his throat as he swallowed. “I am .... concerned .... that it would compromise my game in the Kanto tournament.” He turned to meet Sanada’s eyes squarely. “From the inevitable bruising.”
Sanada shrugged, turning away from Yukimura and leaning back against the sofa. “Then we won’t do it.”
Yukimura considered him silently for a long moment. “Does that bother you?”
Sanada’s eyes were fixed ahead to the woman who had now also returned to her seat and was sobbing into her hands. “No.”
Yukimura waited, violet eyes trained on his fukubuchou and lover until the other realised that his answer had been insufficient. Sanada glanced at him and then returned his attention to the TV.
“It’s just sex, Seiichi. The act is not important to our relationship.”
Oh. Yukimura slowly rotated back to the screen, tucking his legs up underneath him. Well, that resolved the problem then.
The man on the chat show now had an arm around his sobbing girlfriend. “It’s ok, sweetie,” he crooned. “You just freaked out about our relationship first, that’s all. You need to trust my level head. Leave the deep thinking to me.”
Yukimura’s gaze flicked over to the other side of the sofa. Sanada remained watching the set, seemingly impassively. Yukimura’s eyes narrowed. The corners of Sanada’s mouth did the smallest of twitches.
Forcing his eyes back to the ridiculous program, Yukimura flopped back against the padded cushions, his arms falling loosely to his sides.
Fingers slid into one palm and squeezed. Without diverting his gaze, Yukimura squeezed back.
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Date: 2010-12-10 01:10 pm (UTC)Secondly, you said so much with so little dialogue. I suspect those creative writing classes helped. XD
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Date: 2010-12-10 01:36 pm (UTC)Thank you \o/\o/
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:23 pm (UTC).... sneeze.
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:24 pm (UTC)/hands tissue
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:27 pm (UTC)/takes.
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 04:38 pm (UTC).... or I'll send you ear muffs for Christmas. Yellow rikkai ones ^.~
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:44 pm (UTC)Ear muffs are weird.
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Date: 2010-12-10 04:59 pm (UTC)I know :D They were all the rage when I was 8.
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Date: 2010-12-10 05:00 pm (UTC)That was like... 22 years ago, hun. I was 3.
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Date: 2010-12-10 05:00 pm (UTC)Quiet.
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Date: 2010-12-10 06:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 06:50 pm (UTC)...wait. EW.
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Date: 2010-12-10 06:58 pm (UTC)Much better.
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Date: 2010-12-10 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 07:35 pm (UTC)I figured out why my math failed. I forgot I was 22.
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