I can't sleep, so you get fic
Aug. 16th, 2010 08:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
staricelingI finished Miracle Train and Kuroshitsuji (I've started watching the second season with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slr2moons). I would like to post about that but I'm pretty sure it will just devolve into CAPSLOCKED OPINIONS.
Right now I can't sleep. I haven't slept all night and I hate everything. And I deleted the second MT fic I was writing because I'm not sure I am capable of forming a positive opinion of anything at the moment.
Fic kind-of based on a comment in ep9, though it could take place at any time.
Working Title: Getting Off Track
Pairing: Shinjuku/Shiodome
Warnings: If the pairing doesn't bother you nothing else here should.
Words: 981
Summary: Shinjuku's affection for the youngest station may run a little deeper than he wants to admit.
“Won’t you let me ease your mind, little kitten?”
A single finger curled under Shinjuku’s chin, lifting his face until he was looking into a pair of smoldering blue eyes. Just the sly hint of a smile curled around the speaker’s lips, inviting him to play along. Shinjuku found himself transfixed to watch those lips soften and part. The desire to answer those come-hither eyes by pulling their owner closer flashed through his mind.
Shiodome suddenly withdrew his hand from Shinjuku’s chin. His sultry expression broke into a playful grin, shattering the mood in an instant.
“Like that?”
Shinjuku put one hand over his face, annoyed at how quickly Shiodome had broken his play-acting, but even more embarrassed at his own reaction. “Not cool at all,” he muttered between his fingers.
“Shinjuku-san! Don’t be so mean!” Shiodome cried, lunging forward and bracing both hands on Shinjuku’s knees. “I’m trying to be more like you!”
That earnest, upset face was too close and too cute. Shinjuku smiled, unable to help himself. “You and I aren’t very similar,” he reminded Shiodome
“Yeah, but. . .” Shiodome pressed his lips together for a second in an unhappy almost-frown that Shinjuku wanted to smooth off of his expressive face. “Fine.”
Shiodome thumped down in the seat beside Shinjuku, pointedly looking away. He had his hands braced in his own lap now, his legs stretched out in front of him. Even without being able to see his expression, it was obvious every inch of Shiodome’s body was thrown into his pout.
That sort of reaction only made Shinjuku want to tease him properly. Shiodome always reacted so strongly, going from cheerful to depressed and back again with just a few words. Shinjuku pretended to ignore Shiodome’s pout as he relaxed back in his seat, but it would have been impossible to leave him alone so easily.
With one casual move, Shinjuku stretched his arm around Shiodome’s back, letting his hand hang down against Shiodome’s shoulder. When Shiodome didn’t respond to the touch, Shinjuku looked over again and found he was slouching in the seat now. His posture had shifted from sulking to one of quiet hurt.
With a sigh, Shinjuku gently gripped Shiodome’s shoulder. He couldn’t not reassure the younger station.
“It’s part of your charm that you’re not like me, Shiodome-kun,” he explained. “Just having your company makes everyone more at ease.”
Everyone but him, it seemed. Shiodome could be so enthusiastic and sweet, but sometimes even his smile only served to make Shinjuku’s heart lurch and race. Sometimes his stomach would clench with the unexpected urge to take Shiodome into his arms. Just. . . just to tease him, and ruffle his soft hair, and touch. . . .
Shiodome still had his face turned away, looking down at Shinjuku’s hand gripping his shoulder. Shinjuku caught him by the chin, turning Shiodome’s face so that they were eye-to-eye once again.
“Such a melancholy expression doesn’t belong on your beautiful face,” he purred, slipping away from the more casual reassurances he might have usually given. “Allow me to take it away.”
The expression that passed over Shiodome’s face was truly beautiful. For just a second there was a warmth in his eyes that said the flirtatious words had gone right to his head. Then, in what was almost certainly a conscious effort, he hardened his soft face against Shinjuku’s smile.
“You’re teasing me again.”
Shifting his hand to dent Shiodome’s stubborn lower lip with his thumb, Shinjuku spoke each word with a deliberate gravity.
“I am not teasing you.”
Shiodome flushed. He dropped his gaze and made a breathless little noise in this throat, even as his mouth opened against the press of Shinjuku’s thumb. Shinjuku could feel Shiodome’s jaw trembling in his hand. That gave him reason to pause. He hadn’t meant to scare or confuse Shiodome, but the wide-eyed look Shiodome darted at him told him he had.
He was going to far. To purr honeyed flattery at Shiodome as if he were a guest was bad enough, but when would it even be appropriate to touch a guest like this? Shinjuku dropped his hand. He tried to cover the sudden retreat by giving Shiodome a one-armed hug instead.
“I’m trying to tell you, you don’t have to try and be more like anyone else. You are you.” Shinjuku said forcefully, over Shiodome’s confused murmur of, “Shinjuku-san?”
Shiodome pulled back, looking at him with suspicion. He probably still thought he was being teased. Shinjuku could only give him an indulgent smile.
“I like you the way you are. Even if it means putting up with your childish antics.” Shinjuku couldn’t help throwing in the last comment. Shiodome so obviously expected it.
“I’m not childish!”
“It’s just like a child to deny it.”
“Shinjuku-san, you never take me seriously!” Shiodome cried. In spite of his protest, his temper was back to normal. That was enough to make Shinjuku happy.
It wasn’t exactly that Shiodome was childish–not the same way a human child was childish–but there was still a sort of newness about him. He was bright and lively. He glowed as if his face could catch the light like the clean silver and white that decorated his station. He hadn’t lost that in the years since his first opening, and it was unbearable that he might lose it now.
For Shiodome to become more like him. . . Shinjuku rejected the way that one sultry look had frozen him on the spot. More than anything, he didn’t want Shiodome to change. If simply touching Shiodome too fervently might be too much, then he wouldn’t touch. He would have done anything to preserve that brightness around Shiodome.
Shiodome had that easy smile back on his face. He had dropped the subject so quickly once he was reassured. Shinjuku took that as his sign that it was the right thing not to let Shiodome change.
slr2moons). I would like to post about that but I'm pretty sure it will just devolve into CAPSLOCKED OPINIONS.Right now I can't sleep. I haven't slept all night and I hate everything. And I deleted the second MT fic I was writing because I'm not sure I am capable of forming a positive opinion of anything at the moment.
Fic kind-of based on a comment in ep9, though it could take place at any time.
Working Title: Getting Off Track
Pairing: Shinjuku/Shiodome
Warnings: If the pairing doesn't bother you nothing else here should.
Words: 981
Summary: Shinjuku's affection for the youngest station may run a little deeper than he wants to admit.
“Won’t you let me ease your mind, little kitten?”
A single finger curled under Shinjuku’s chin, lifting his face until he was looking into a pair of smoldering blue eyes. Just the sly hint of a smile curled around the speaker’s lips, inviting him to play along. Shinjuku found himself transfixed to watch those lips soften and part. The desire to answer those come-hither eyes by pulling their owner closer flashed through his mind.
Shiodome suddenly withdrew his hand from Shinjuku’s chin. His sultry expression broke into a playful grin, shattering the mood in an instant.
“Like that?”
Shinjuku put one hand over his face, annoyed at how quickly Shiodome had broken his play-acting, but even more embarrassed at his own reaction. “Not cool at all,” he muttered between his fingers.
“Shinjuku-san! Don’t be so mean!” Shiodome cried, lunging forward and bracing both hands on Shinjuku’s knees. “I’m trying to be more like you!”
That earnest, upset face was too close and too cute. Shinjuku smiled, unable to help himself. “You and I aren’t very similar,” he reminded Shiodome
“Yeah, but. . .” Shiodome pressed his lips together for a second in an unhappy almost-frown that Shinjuku wanted to smooth off of his expressive face. “Fine.”
Shiodome thumped down in the seat beside Shinjuku, pointedly looking away. He had his hands braced in his own lap now, his legs stretched out in front of him. Even without being able to see his expression, it was obvious every inch of Shiodome’s body was thrown into his pout.
That sort of reaction only made Shinjuku want to tease him properly. Shiodome always reacted so strongly, going from cheerful to depressed and back again with just a few words. Shinjuku pretended to ignore Shiodome’s pout as he relaxed back in his seat, but it would have been impossible to leave him alone so easily.
With one casual move, Shinjuku stretched his arm around Shiodome’s back, letting his hand hang down against Shiodome’s shoulder. When Shiodome didn’t respond to the touch, Shinjuku looked over again and found he was slouching in the seat now. His posture had shifted from sulking to one of quiet hurt.
With a sigh, Shinjuku gently gripped Shiodome’s shoulder. He couldn’t not reassure the younger station.
“It’s part of your charm that you’re not like me, Shiodome-kun,” he explained. “Just having your company makes everyone more at ease.”
Everyone but him, it seemed. Shiodome could be so enthusiastic and sweet, but sometimes even his smile only served to make Shinjuku’s heart lurch and race. Sometimes his stomach would clench with the unexpected urge to take Shiodome into his arms. Just. . . just to tease him, and ruffle his soft hair, and touch. . . .
Shiodome still had his face turned away, looking down at Shinjuku’s hand gripping his shoulder. Shinjuku caught him by the chin, turning Shiodome’s face so that they were eye-to-eye once again.
“Such a melancholy expression doesn’t belong on your beautiful face,” he purred, slipping away from the more casual reassurances he might have usually given. “Allow me to take it away.”
The expression that passed over Shiodome’s face was truly beautiful. For just a second there was a warmth in his eyes that said the flirtatious words had gone right to his head. Then, in what was almost certainly a conscious effort, he hardened his soft face against Shinjuku’s smile.
“You’re teasing me again.”
Shifting his hand to dent Shiodome’s stubborn lower lip with his thumb, Shinjuku spoke each word with a deliberate gravity.
“I am not teasing you.”
Shiodome flushed. He dropped his gaze and made a breathless little noise in this throat, even as his mouth opened against the press of Shinjuku’s thumb. Shinjuku could feel Shiodome’s jaw trembling in his hand. That gave him reason to pause. He hadn’t meant to scare or confuse Shiodome, but the wide-eyed look Shiodome darted at him told him he had.
He was going to far. To purr honeyed flattery at Shiodome as if he were a guest was bad enough, but when would it even be appropriate to touch a guest like this? Shinjuku dropped his hand. He tried to cover the sudden retreat by giving Shiodome a one-armed hug instead.
“I’m trying to tell you, you don’t have to try and be more like anyone else. You are you.” Shinjuku said forcefully, over Shiodome’s confused murmur of, “Shinjuku-san?”
Shiodome pulled back, looking at him with suspicion. He probably still thought he was being teased. Shinjuku could only give him an indulgent smile.
“I like you the way you are. Even if it means putting up with your childish antics.” Shinjuku couldn’t help throwing in the last comment. Shiodome so obviously expected it.
“I’m not childish!”
“It’s just like a child to deny it.”
“Shinjuku-san, you never take me seriously!” Shiodome cried. In spite of his protest, his temper was back to normal. That was enough to make Shinjuku happy.
It wasn’t exactly that Shiodome was childish–not the same way a human child was childish–but there was still a sort of newness about him. He was bright and lively. He glowed as if his face could catch the light like the clean silver and white that decorated his station. He hadn’t lost that in the years since his first opening, and it was unbearable that he might lose it now.
For Shiodome to become more like him. . . Shinjuku rejected the way that one sultry look had frozen him on the spot. More than anything, he didn’t want Shiodome to change. If simply touching Shiodome too fervently might be too much, then he wouldn’t touch. He would have done anything to preserve that brightness around Shiodome.
Shiodome had that easy smile back on his face. He had dropped the subject so quickly once he was reassured. Shinjuku took that as his sign that it was the right thing not to let Shiodome change.
