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Triskell
Author of 90 Stories |
Fandom: YnM
Disclaimer: characters belong to Matsushita Yoko.
Author's Note: for Threewalls – happy Bday from the Yami bishies!
TIDING TIME
© Triskell, 29 July 2006
In the accounting season, Watari stops at Tatsumi's office every night with a cup of tea. He just slips inside without knocking. Tatsumi looks up briefly and accepts the tea with a hesitant smile. He's unused to being cared for - the strong and silent are never pampered.
Sometimes, Watari's caught up in his own work, and won't check up on him before midnight. Tatsumi's asleep then, sometimes, hunched over his desk, glasses askew and brow furrowed. He doesn't wake when Watari stands beside his chair to move him into a slightly more comfortable position, looses his tie and opens the top buttons of Tatsumi's shirt.
It's the second-to-last evening of the year and Tatsumi's body seems heavier as Watari turns him. He has barely touched the tie when Tatsumi's hand covers his.
Watari – unfazed - smiles, then winks as he snaps the button open, "You're practically inviting me to molest you."
"Invite? Hardly. However, ..." Tatsumi sits up, keeping his hand on Watari's. He turns his chair so he faces Watari, arching his back and spreading his legs. There's a flush high on his cheekbones and across his nose, "You wanted an invitation, Watari-san?"
Watari pauses for a heartbeat, "You bet."
He laughs and steps forward to straddle Tatsumi's lap, leaning forward for a kiss. Their memories of the rest of the night are fuzzy at best, but they end up in the same bed. And on new year's eve, they already know they won't spend another year alone.
Rating: PG-13
CANDLE GLOWYellow silk flowed across Watari's body, mingling with his hair as he lay spread out on their bed. The room was lit only by candles placed to Watari's left and right, casting him in a dim half-circle of dancing flame and hushing shadow.
Candlelight fuelled his powers, but the feeling of warm skin, the strong thumping of Watari's heart beneath his palm and the delighted gasp escaping between moist lips as his own closed on them forbid their use. Tatsumi could never resist when Watari tempted him to touch.
And of course Watari wouldn't have wanted him to.
Note: exactly 100 words including title. Belongs to MC, who gave the pointers: Tatari & candle/s.Notes: double drabble in honour of summer solstice; exactly 200 words without title. I'm sorry about the crappy title. Any suggestions are welcome.
A NIGHT FOR YOU"You're still here?"
"It's not that late, Watari-san. I'll go home when it's dark."
"To save on energy costs in the office?"
"Of course," Tatsumi looked up, briefly, smiling, "why else?"
"To avoid your temporary flatmate, perhaps?" And dancing around each other, flirting, close, never touching.
"The burst pipes in your flat aren't your fault. Nor was Kagankokushungei's wrecking your lab. I think."
A pout, head cocked, "I'm innocent."
"Pouting won't convince me, handsome."
Stunned silence. Watari's voice strangely quiet when he spoke, "I didn't think you'd noticed. I'll … let you finish now, if … you want."
Tatsumi nodded; he'd said too much. Then he looked up, "Watari-san, being unable to spend the longest day of the year with me – I would … if you want … I could offer you the longest night." Thin shadows lightly rippled in tension.
"You needn't be so formal. And winter solstice is in six months. Still... I'll take you up on this. Remember, you'll be mine."
Tatsumi's head snapped up, eyes narrowing, but there was a slight smile on his lips. Watari was at the door already and after he had closed it, Tatsumi muttered, "No need, I already am."
X-posted at fuda100
Rating: PG
Double drabble, 200 words exactly, sans title
WRITING
© Triskell, 6 June 2006
Tatsumi thinks that writing is an indication of character.
Tsuzuki may often be sloppy, but he writes beautifully: Every kanji is precise – his fuda are works of art. Order in the chaos of existence.
Kurosaki's impatience trembles in his characters – they seem to lean to the side, as if they wanted to jump off the page. Those reports that Kurosaki and Tsuzuki have written together show how well their brush strokes compliment each other. It always makes Tatsumi smile.
Fukiya and Torii's kanji are legible, it's the coloured ink and perfumed paper (lily-of-the-valley!) that gives Tatsumi headaches.
Kannuki refuses to use a paintbrush and her biro kanji look like shivers on the page. Terazuma's hand is big and strong, concentrated like a child's who is just learning. Terazuma frowning in concentration over a sheaf of paper is a rare, but worthwhile sight.
But of all styles of writing, Tatsumi prefers the thin, exact lines that sharply cut into the paper like a sword: products of a methodical mind, filled with formulas, ideas, genius and madness. Sometimes, kanji find their way onto notes, fluttering to his desk in their guise as origami owls.
The signature sure and familiar – one kanji – Yutaka.
Note: I checked the name and I see 'Yutaka' as one kanji. But I don't speak/write Japanese, so please do correct me if I'm wrong. :D
Rating: PG (f/f)
Fandom: RENT
A SWEETER TASTE100 words without title
The first time Maureen saw Joanne, she was eating a 'pain au chocolat'. Back then, Maureen would have said 'pastry', her only French being swear words and 'bohème'.
But – that image...
Bronzed crisp pastry crumbling into golden bits that tumbled onto Joanne's pristine suit and starched white blouse, marring pristine perfection.
Joanne brushed away the thin flakes, thumb gracing the edge of her mouth, resting there for a moment too long. She looked up and smiled.
Back then Maureen thought it was the taste of the pastry. Now she knew that in that moment, Joanne had caught sight of her.Rating: PG-13
Fandom: LotR
UNWINDUnravel your plait,
Release the twisted silk,
To fall in gold and amber strands
And mingle on the pillow
With the ebony tresses
Already curlèd there.
Embrace me, light and
Fill my shadows with
The solace of an understanding mind
The soothing touches of your lips
And the sweet comfort of
Your body moulding against mine.Fandom: YnM
100 words incl. title
NOISE LEVELTatsumi didn't much like noisy people. He considered it undignified, overbearing and also quite unnecessary to make a production of oneself in such way.
Therefore, he often found himself called upon to chastise his colleagues for inappropriately loudness in the office – be it Tsuzuki fighting with Terazuma or the Hokkaido duo squealing over having found a dress for Kurosaki.
Whenever he gave one of these lectures, however, he avoided Watari's knowing eyes and saucy smirk. In the privacy of his bedroom, even Tatsumi could be induced to a surprising variety of noises. Quiet then, was never a priority.Rating: PG
BIG SPENDERShopping with Watari was … different.
"You want it, it's useful. Not pricey. Why not buy it?"
"I don't need something as … frivolous as an Italian cookbook."
"Oh, please," Watari threw his hands up, then grabbed Tatsumi with one and the book with the other, dragging Tatsumi towards the counter, "We'll get it. Just blame it on me."
Later that night, Tatsumi leaved through the book, marking the recipe for tiramisu with a frayed silk ribbon. Watari was snoring lightly beside him. The evening had turned out more passionately than expected. Tatsumi blamed it on his lasagne.
exactly 100 words each without title
BEST FRIENDS
(c) Triskell, 13+17 June 2006
"I wouldn't know what to do without you," Tatsumi's hand gently caressed a sleek curve, "Always willing, always accessible, always mine. You calm me and let me rely on you and you're so soothing when things go wrong, so strong and sure..."
"Unless the power blows, of course," Watari's laughing voice intruded.
Tatsumi turned, blocking the view, embarrassed to be caught, yet never removing his hand.
"And people say I'm weird," Watari winked, "Say, what's his name?"
It was Watari's sudden seriousness, the implied acceptance that made Tatsumi answer as he stepped aside, " Watari-san, meet my best friend, paper-shredder-kun."BEST FRIENDS II
(c) Triskell, 13+17 June 2006
'Best friends' – that's different things to different people. Yuma and Saya define it as talking about men, Hisoka-chan, clothes. Nonomiya and Kazuma call it companionship, being partners and 'more-than-friends', too.
Wakaba's best friend is quiet and supportive, a girl, but never girly. She's not interested in frocks or make-up or men, but she always understands. She'll never spill Wakaba's secrets, her deepest desires, not even to her beloved. She's reliable and sweet and doesn't mind tears.
"I wouldn't know what do without you, 003-chan," she says and the little owl caresses her wet cheek with her wings. Silently, comfortingly.
