Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Title: Thin line
Pairing: Yamashita Tomohisa and Ikuta Toma
Summary: Toma doesn't know where they stand.
“Tadaima.” Ikuta Toma smiled fondly at the scene which greeted him.
Yamahita Tomohisa was asleep, naked underneath the soft, comfortable blanket Toma used to cover their bed. He watched the sleeping figure; a sleeping Yamapi is a beautiful Yamapi. His skin glowed in the pale moonlight and his face looked as fragile as a child. Sometimes, Toma feels that his lover is ethereal.
He leaned down at the bundled figure and pressed a soft kiss on its temple.
Except for a soft moan, Toma received no other reaction. He let out a tired sigh then proceeded to remove his clothes and entered the shower stall.
He felt confused.
They have been sleeping together for the past two months and yet not one of them defined their relationship. They weren’t together, together but neither were they just best friends. It was as if they were somewhere in between but no one wants to say it out loud.
It was very frustrating.
He remembered the day well, Yamapi invited to treat him out to a celebratory dinner as congratulations on his new drama. They both came from work and were wearing only jeans and shirts, looking like teenagers on a prowl. Somehow, they ended up on a seaside restaurant in the middle of nowhere and had the time of their lives. It was a fun evening full of running jokes and reminiscing about their Shounen club days while tasting each others’ food and just enjoying each other’s company.
After dinner, they walked along the shoreline and exchanged gossip about Takki’s new favorite, Tegoshi’s love for bananas and something about Jin undergoing brain transplant being the real reason why he went to LA. Toma had pushed Yamapi in the cold water and in return his so –called best friend pulled Toma along with him.
“That’s what you get for attempting to push me!”
Both wet, they laughed about the silliest things like Kanjani8 and goats and how can a starfish stay alive above water and why can’t they eat anything they want without ever getting fat and how life is so unfair because Bakanishi is fat and no one ever cares.
“It’s the hips.”
“I can roll my hips that way too!”
Toma had rolled his eyes and flicked Yamapi’s forehead, “Baka! Everyone loves you.” He remembered saying while he sat on the surprisingly warm sand and patted the space beside him. Yamapi had smiled, took a seat next to him and rested his head on Toma’s shoulder.
“I really am your weakness, aren’t I?” Yamapi asked softly.
“You really are.” He replied, touching his best friend’s cheek. “You really, really are.”
In a moment of insanity, he tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss on Yamapi’s head. His best friend responded by dropping a wet kiss on his shoulder.
“That tickles!” Toma giggled.
Yamapi, acting like his old character, Akira, bit his earlobe.
Toma had laughed and somehow, they ended up in bed together that night. In a way, he knew that it was a long time coming, they were best friends but they both knew that there was something more there. They just refused to acknowledge it until that night.
Morning came and a sleepy, grumpy Yamapi woke him up complaining about how everything hurts and how Toma was a big bad monster. Toma, on his part, had the audacity to act confused, then look embarrassed as realization dawned.
He stared at his best friend’s blank face. “Do you regret it?”
Yamapi bit his lip, smiled. “I don’t regret doing anything with you.”
Before they knew it, they were living together, sharing Toma’s one bedroom apartment like what most couples do. His bedroom is now littered with Pi’s clothes and Doraemon DVD’s and his bathroom always smelled like rose shampoo. It was an ideal situation and he was happy. Except that he didn’t know what Yamapi felt for him, they’ve discussed every aspect of their relationship except love.
Toma turned off the shower and rubbed himself dry; he donned one of Yamapi’s old, tattered sweatpants before slipping inside the warm covers of his bed. He took a deep breath and leaned close to brush Yamapi’s silky bangs of his face.
His best friend stirred,.. “…uhgnh?” Sat up, “You’re back!”
Toma’s fingertips touched the face he loved so well, “Why are you with me?” he asked softly, looking into his lovers eyes, “I want to know.”
Yamapi pulled him close and touched their foreheads together, “Isn’t that obvious?” his Tomohisa whispered, smiling into Toma’s troubled eyes, “I’m with you because you’re my weakness too."
Monday, April 13, 2009
Pairing: Yamashita Tomohisa and Horikita Maki
In the kitchen you pour another cup of coffee and shrug the feeling of someone watching your every move. The old table cloth creases as your cup touch the soft pink material and you feel ill at ease. You check your phone for any messages and let out a sharp breath as you see nothing but the image of the spring cherry blossoms you usually use as wallpaper.
The heat of the coffee scalds your tongue as you take a sip and somewhere you hear the twelve tick tocks of an old grandfather clock announcing the stroke of midnight. Your skin feels the change in atmosphere as the once warm temperature turns cold and the area surrounding you almost freezes to a zero. You let out a soft huff and marveled at the smoky icy air you see. You automatically wrapped your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to combat the sudden barrage of cold wind that invades your home.
The eerie sound he creates as he approaches makes your spine tingle and you watch as he glides on your living room floor, his feet barely touching the pale white carpet covering the ground. From your position you see nothing but a white figure clothed in a dark garment designed to make him more mysterious than he already is.
You stand still as if hypnotized as he calmly raises your chin and delivers his usual kiss which always feels like sandpaper. Your senses go overtime and yet you still cannot taste him, his body still feels like a solid rock which cannot be broken or scratched. You are irritated and you want nothing more than to press yourself against his cold body and make him feel the steady blaze of blind heat he elicits from you. Blood rushes through your head and makes you dizzy, his tongue finds its way inside your mouth and it feels coarse and wild and rough and you know you are the only one who feels that way.
He releases you and his eyes are the color of warm sunshine but you’re aware that it is nothing but a mere illusion he crafts to make you feel at ease around him. You are not comforted, you want him, the real him. Not this false imagery he portrays whenever he is around you. Your eyes pleads, I want to be like you. Make me be like you.
He shakes his head no and you know he’s giving you the same excuse he’s always given. I don’t want you to be like me, my world is far different than what you are used to.
You feel angry, helpless, how can you be together forever when he insists on you living in the colors of bright sunshine while he slowly wilts in the shadows of darkness?
Tomohisa, please. You hear yourself whisper as your fingers caress his oddly smooth cheek and you smile sadly as he takes your palm and places it on his chest, where his heart is supposed to be. You hear nothing. Not one beat, your gaze falls on his neck where the veins do not show and you wonder how someone with no pulse can love so deeply that it consumes your entire being.
He smirks as he follows your line of vision, you won’t find anything there, he says as he drops an all too familiar kiss on the crown of your head. Two of his fingers slowly touch the racing pulse below your right ear and your lips opens in a silent scream as he lowers his head and his sharp teeth penetrates the sensitive skin on your neck. You close your eyes as you feel the drops of warm blood drip from the open wound and you enclose your arms around him, refusing to let go.
Maki. He calls your name brokenly; you’re too good for me. You whimper in reply and before you know it, he is gone and you are left alone in your quiet apartment with your arms wrapped around yourself. You are vaguely aware that in the few minutes he was there, he left no trace of any kind. You collapse on the wooden floor of your kitchen and cry silently to yourself because you know you will never see him again.
Outside the wind settles down as the young man silently takes his leave. His tongue lick the blood off his cherry lips and while he knows that he can never hear it again, he still places his right hand on his left chest and pretends that the dull ache he feels is the breaking of his own heart.