Spontaneous posting of my own work on one of my own themes? Gah. >____>
Title: three things
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte (OOFURI)
Prompt: #86 -- "Kiss Me With Your Eyes Closed"
Pairing: Tajima x Hanai (x Tajima?)
Rating: PG13 for one certain expletive, otherwise G / PG
Disclaimer: I don't own or claim to own Ookiku Furikabutte.
- #86. "Kiss Me with Your Eyes Closed"
additional prompt(s) // notes:
- a "serious" tajima ( for pukiban )
[-tajihana, self plz?]
a miniature blend of innumerable oofuri ficlet ideas that failed to stand alone
rated PG13 for one certain expletive (otherwise G / PG)
It’s the bottom of the eighth inning and he’s crouched down low, bent slightly forward at the waist, set up a ways back from the strikezone. There’s a runner on third, and the two of them are breathing hard as one. His eyes are a deep russet colour now, fierce and unflinching and positively dead-center upon the face of the enemy, searching for something he can’t quite name yet. He doesn’t miss a beat as the pitch comes hurtling closer, inhaling steadily and then shoving it all out in one forceful gasp as he moves in to swing—a fastball high and outside that was rather difficult to connect with properly, he later recalls for the victory entourage.
When he comes down from wherever it is he goes on days like this, having been grinning and moving and hugging and congratulating on autopilot, there’s a hand on his shoulder. Its faint chill bleeds through the dusty uniform but he refuses to move away. He knows just who it is and what it all means. That same familiar, honeyed voice is going on and on and on but he isn’t getting any noise save static. So he turns slightly to his right, on the verge of tilting his head and peering up through his lashes like usual, about to crack a joke or maybe even return the affection with a tight squeeze if he’s any bolder today.
What happens instead is this: "Hanai, kiss me with your eyes closed."
He’s actually a very cowardly person by nature when it comes down to life outside the diamond, because he likes to brush away his problems and ignore the negatives that go along with a boisterous personality like his. He doesn’t like to be told what to do—even if it’s what’s best and he’ll probably wind up doing it later anyway. He’s lazy. He’s clingy and unapologetic. He’s not as cool or amazing or brave or as anything as anyone thinks he is. And although he’s made it plenty clear enough before, everyone needs a reminder or two every now and then—therefore, on that note, he’s rarely ever serious.
It’s always said with a smile, or as a joke, or played off lightly when he speaks. He’s never raw with his words—he may be crazy but he isn’t an open book, for sure. Until now.
The haphazard arm slung across his torso is limp and like ice.
This is what he’s been waiting for.
There are three things he loves in this world and will never ever make light of—perhaps he shouldn’t admit to it now, as it’s kind of embarrassing for a guy like him to say—and of those three things, only one really really counts. The first thing is baseball. This is a sport of determination and sweat and hard work and the great outdoors and a place where no man can stand alone. It’s home to him, and he is enamoured with everything about it.
"Hanai?" He prompts again, still facing forward, face plain and ordinary but not taken over by laughter either. His eyes are glued to the night sky preceding the lot of them for a lingering moment before he screws them shut tightly then opens them again. The jeers and yells and clapping of the team have long since faded away for him, but he won’t turn his head.
The second thing is companionship. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s being alone, and so he takes this very seriously, whether it’s dragging a flabbergasted Mihashi back into the dugout, screaming out compliments to the batter, or slapping a lonely soul on the back. Things may spew from his lips spontaneously, but everything is meant well and nothing ever goes to waste when he puts his full power into it.
"I want you," Tajima half-whispers, half-grits through his teeth, "to kiss me…"
Honestly, this is much more awkward than he expected. So much for rehearsing this in front of his bathroom mirror. It’s a metaphorical bomb he had thought to deliver casually, making sure that Hanai would never know the effect of its shrapnel should he say no. But his voice has already broken twice and his fingers are trembling uncontrollably in fists at his sides. He knows why he’s having so much trouble here and now, and the problem isn’t really a problem but a sickening anticipation of what’s to come. Hanai’s reaction is one thing he can’t predict, no matter how long he thinks about it or studies the person or scripts it out in his head. He’s in the midst of tossing together a few of those handy ‘apology’ phrases in his head—"sorry-my-mistake-won’t-happen-
"With my eyes closed, right?"
And the third thing is Hanai, because Hanai is both of those things and so much more.
(the more personal style of narration was intentional)
200 Prompt List:
((Think you can handle it?))
Mansecks would be good, yes.
Did you hear something? Nah.
(I honestly could think of more, but this is enough. Seriously. It starts off as pertaining to the series more and later branches off into a variety of random scenario prompts… There is no true order though. Oops? I'll fix the numbers later.)
Make the best of these, whether it’s all one pairing, various pairings, no pairings whatsoever, or a hybrid. Make it as sexy or safe as you like. The point is to up the OOFURI love and have fun while doing it. Sound good? Give it a go.
And no, you don’t have to do everything. That’s just rough. (What a relief!)
That's right. "Spree," not "squee."
I went around and picked myself up some icons. Lazy method accomplished~
But look, OOFURI icon with Abe and Mihashi. Couldn't resist the pull of its cuteness... :B
...And now back to picking up cleaning.
*wants to go watch the anime now*
EDIT: Problems with the computer I use to clean scans. Guess my mind is made up!
...After I practice the viola of course. t______t