Warnings: none, really.
Pairings: definitely not Fujisaki/Hiro. :)
Note: Written for the ficondemand livejournal community June challenge, for trixie.
Over time, Fujisaki had been exposed to rather more details of Shindou's relationship with the writer Yuki Eiri than he really wanted to be. And over time, Fujisaki had come to one, simple conclusion: Shindou was an idiot.
True, he'd decided Shindou was an idiot long before he'd concluded this in terms of Shindou's relationship with the blond author. But that was based only on the obvious facts – his revolting lyrics, wild mood swings, and appallingly low IQ level, to name a few. There was one and only one reason that Fujisaki had decided Shindou was an idiot when it came to relationships, however, and its name was Nakano Hiroshi.
If Fujisaki had been gay – which, of course, he wasn't – he would have been all over Hiro by now, and he simply could not understand why Shindou wasn't. Not only was their guitarist intelligent and articulate, he was also one of the most caring people Fujisaki had ever had the privilege to meet. Of course, Hiro's one blind spot was that he wasted all of it on Shindou, but Fujisaki chose to take that as a further indication of just how deep Hiro's patience and kindness ran, because God knew he'd been tempted to throw his keyboard at the idiot's head more than once.
If he were gay, Fujisaki mused, there would be a few other reasons to appreciate Hiro, as well.
The first one was his face. Hiro had a particularly beautiful bone structure, giving him fine cheekbones, a strong jaw sloping down into a delicate chin and a gorgeous mouth – not too full nor too thin-lipped, so beautiful in its shape it was as if someone had sculpted it that way on purpose. His eyes, too – Fujisaki could go on for hours about his eyes.
If he was gay, of course. Which he wasn't.
The second one was his hair. Fujisaki admitted to having a bit of a thing for a person with nice hair – especially if it hadn't been butchered with a pink dye job – and Hiro's hair was just gorgeous. Up in a silky ponytail or down and flying into his face, the thick, dark red mass begged for someone to run their fingers through it. Hiro's hair drew your attention to the rest of his body, as well, which contained the other fourteen reasons Fujisaki would have appreciated him if he was gay – his slender, athletic build, deceptively thin until you saw that he was all muscle, long legs and an arse that could knock you out from twenty paces—
Yes, Fujisaki thought, it was a shame he wasn't gay.
And Shindou was an idiot.