oofcat2112

[oofcat2112]

midnight ghost (UniteUp - Daiki/Akira)

In which Akira short-circuits Daiki's brain for 1.4k words.

***

Takao Daiki is beginning to think that his dorm room is haunted.

Granted he’s been pretty sleep-deprived these past two weeks between practice and study sessions, but he’s confident that this one is definitely not just his imagination!

It started a few days after he decided to stay up just a little bit later than usual for the next few weeks as his college workload began to pick up toward the last few months of the semester. He noticed shadows creeping under his door, shuffling noises, and sometimes the sound of heavy breathing. At first, he’d thought that it was just his mind growing tired from the lack of sleep but after he noticed it happening again and again throughout the next two weeks, it became clear to him that it was not just a trick of the light.

He’s never been good at dealing with ghosts, and now there’s one waiting for him outside his door every other night? Yeah, he would like to get nope of there now.

Now, every night, he's become overly wary of his door, worried that the shadows are going to turn into something creeping up his walls and watching him from the corner. Yeah, nope. He never wished he could leave his body and just…go away more than he does right now.

That's why, today, when he spots a few shadows under his door, he prepares himself to fight his way through the spirit before running away as his life depends on it. He isn't about to become its next victim. But, unfortunately for Daiki, what happens next is the sound of a knock on the door that makes him jump off his skin so hard that he manages to bump into his chair and fall to the ground with a loud thump. So much for having good control of his balance like the dancer that he is.

Fortunately, the voice that speaks from behind the door sends all his concerns of a college student-eating ghost flying away like it never existed.

“Daiki-kun, are you okay? I heard a loud noise,”

Oh. It's Akira. Just Akira. Not a ghost. Thank god.

Daiki lets out a relieved sigh and manages to get up and unlock the door, rubbing the part of his forehead that he bumped against the floor. When he opens the door, Akira smiles with a note of relief, although it's quickly replaced with a concerned look over the fresh bruise on Daiki’s temple. 

“It’s not a big deal.” Daiki opens the door wider, inviting the red-haired idol inside his dorm without a word.

Akira frowns, shuffling closer to him. He examines Daiki’s forehead closely until their faces are inches away from one another. Daiki blinks, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. As usual, the close proximity gets Daiki blushing pathetically. He just has to wonder at that point. When will Akira stop having such an effect on him?

The two of them are now halfway through their first year in college, having gotten into the same university by some pure coincidence. Although both of them also live in the campus dorms, they don’t see each other as often as one would think. For one, their majors were completely different and their classes were usually in separate buildings. Not to mention their idol activities. It doesn’t just take a backseat just because their academic workload has increased, both are still extremely passionate about their jobs. Despite all that, campus life has been relatively peaceful save for some rumors here and there, and they do make it work as best as they can.

That being said, it has been a few weeks now since they last saw each other face to face, so maybe it was worth it for Daiki to get this bruise just so he could see Akira.

“Not so close, geez,” Daiki mutters, though he doesn’t actually mind being this close to Akira. “It’s fine, it’ll go away in a few days.”

Akira frowns. “But I see blood.”

“It barely scratched me.”

In the end, it’s not like Daiki is very strong when it comes to Akira, especially when he’s looking at him like that.

That’s how they end up sitting on his dorm room bed, Akira’s hands opening up a piece of band-aid and applying it to the (very tiny) scar on Daiki’s forehead. “Why did you use this one?!”

Akira laughs softly. “Why? It’s cute!”

The band-aid in question that’s now stuck to Daiki’s forehead is one that’s covered in little red hearts. It looks absolutely ridiculous. Well, no point in taking it off at this point, he thinks with a small sigh. At least one of them is happy.

“How’re your studies going?” Akira asks, glancing at the stack of books on Daiki’s desk.

He shrugs. “I was about to finish for the day.”

Oh. There’s now a small mischievous glint in Akira’s eyes, that little rebellious and teasing side of him rearing its head. Though the redhead is mostly bright and cheerful to everyone around him, he has a gremlin-like teasing side that he unleashes on people he considers close. Daiki can’t count how many times Akira has made him turn into a mess through his mischievous streak. 

And he’s about to do it again.

Akira straightens his legs and pats his thighs. “Why not take a little break then?”

“Ha-?!” Daiki almost jumps back in shock. He’d been thinking of what Akira was going to say, but this was something else.

The redhead laughs. “Come on, it’s just you and me here! I want to try it~!”

Daiki’s face is completely red at that point. He’s still looking at Akira as if he’s said some outrageous, out-of-pocket declaration. It’s not that he’s against using Akira’s lap as a pillow (Oh, far from it if he’s being honest), but just the thought of it makes him want to cover his face in absolute embarrassment.

“You, I, you, huh?! No way! I don’t think-”

“Daiki-kun, please?” 

It takes only a few seconds before Daiki wilts under Akira’s request. The redhead’s lips curl into a satisfied smile as Daiki lies down with Akira’s lap under his head. As he looks up, cheeks still very red, all he sees is Akira’s pleased expression and he finds himself feeling just a slightly less bit embarrassed than before. They stay like that for a while, Akira’s hand coming up to gently brush the strands of hair Daiki didn’t manage to brush. His hair has grown slightly longer than it used to be, reaching the base of his neck, and it seems like Akira liked to run his hand through it.

“But really, how’s everything going? Anything eventful happened?”

“Hmm…not really. Though I thought my dorm room was haunted for a second.”

Akira’s hand stops its movement. “Haunted?”

Daiki shifts uncomfortably in his spot from being reminded of his previous dilemma. “Y-yeah. I think it’s just because I’ve been sleeping late, but sometimes I think there’s someone in front of my dorm room at night. Shuffling around, breathing and sighing, that kind of thing.”

“Oh.” Akira leans back slightly, an unreadable expression on his face. “Uhm…Daiki-kun…did this ghost happens to be there last night….?”

“Yeah,” Daiki looks back at Akira who’s avoiding his gaze. “How did you know?”

Suddenly, it’s Akira’s turn to blush heavily, his eyes flicking back at Daiki before looking away almost immediately as if he’s too embarrassed to look at him. It hits him at that very moment. The truth behind his little haunting.

“That was you?!” Daiki slowly sits back and gives Akira a questioning look. “What the hell, Akira?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would spook you,” Akira gives him an apologetic look, his lips pouting slightly. 

“But what were you doing…?”

“Well you’ve been busy with your studies for the exams so I thought I would invite you to relax in between as like a refresher.” Akira sighs, looking away again with a blush. “I got to your door but didn’t know how to ask…so I just didn’t.”

“You could’ve just knocked….but, well, I am glad that it wasn’t a ghost after all.” Daiki exhales with relief. At least now he’ll sleep better during the night.

“Sorry…I just really missed you this past few weeks so I-” Akira lets out a gasp, cutting off his words immediately as he scrambles to get up from the bed. Embarrassed and incoherent noises leave his lips. It takes a long time for Daiki’s mind to finally process what Akira had just said and when his brain.exe finally starts working again, Akira has run out of the room.

Really. Akira is just too much for his heart sometimes.

[oofcat2112]

touch, braid, kiss (IDOLiSH7 - Torao/Minami)

In which Minami lets Torao braid his hair and rewards him with a kiss.

***

Even before he opens his eyes, Minami already knows that he woke up late because his dream last night felt long, though he can’t remember much of it. If he had to guess, it would probably be about flying musical notes since he fell asleep mid-scribbling his musical sheets.

Minami blinks a few times then glances at the clock on his nightstand. Typical. Fifteen minutes until he has to go to the studio for today’s recording. Guess his commitment last night to arrive at least thirty minutes early to get a headstart in preparing everything has failed immensely. Well, no matter, he supposes. He can just purchase a small energy drink on his way to work and that should keep him going until the session ends.

He glances at the stack of papers sitting at his feet, some of the pages scattered on the floor. The most important thing is that he finished his early iteration of ZOOL’s new song, what’s a little lack of sleep? His work of art is much more important. He was particularly inspired last night and sleeping right in the middle of it would be too much of a waste.

Fortunately, Natsume Minami moves quickly. After sitting up, stretching his limbs, and blinking away the leftover sleepiness from his eyes, he shrugs off the weight on his shoulders and gets ready for work. Once he’s finished cleaning up and packing away his things, he doesn’t look like someone who just spent less than two hours sleeping. He looks fresh, sophisticated, and put-together though he can see some parts of his usual getup lacking, like his hair. He’ll have to do those in the studio last minute.

For now, he sprays a healthy and light dose of perfume before finally leaving his apartment.

***

Torao should’ve known.

As he steps into the studio the first thing he sees is Minami nodding off by the loveseat, music sheets loosely held between his fingers. One look and it’s obvious what happened to the young composer.

Truly, it isn’t odd for the composer to be lacking a good night's sleep now and then. (Torao’s pretty sure that he's the only one out of four of them who has a semblance of a normal sleep schedule.) When there’s new music that needs to be written or a part that needs to be revised, Minami will be up and working on them immediately like there’s no tomorrow, often staying up until the crack of dawn just to finetune a single melody.

And…of course, Torao had always liked that part of Minami who loved to dedicate part of his existence to his art. When he was allowed, he always enjoyed the sight of Minami scribbling on a music sheet and humming new tunes, brows furrowed as he focused and lips opening and closing as he muttered parts of his song quietly. Despite the blonde’s calm and gentle disposition, Torao has always known that Minami is passionate. It burns behind a cold protective wall, peeking out from behind through his smile during their performance.

That being said, it also isn’t rare for the composer to doze off when he lets his guard down, like now. Before he completely enters the room, Torao takes a moment to admire the sight of Minami’s innocent face as he sleeps. He knows this by now, but he still can’t get over how beautiful Natsume Minami is and here he thought he’d grown immune to pretty faces like that (Though immunity to Minami is something he hasn’t quite developed yet. He doubts he ever will.)

Torao is careful when he takes a seat next to Minami. The blonde will probably wake up soon now that Torao’s here but he wants to give him just a few extra seconds of shut-eye before switching on his work mode.

“Mido-san?” Minami blinks slowly, his hand coming up to rub the skin just underneath his eyes. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few seconds ago. Looks like you had a good nap.” He teases.

Minami lets out a light amused laugh, unfazed by it. He lets out a small yawn under his palm and finally looks at the other man. Minami’s gaze has always been so languid and a bit cold at times, though they’ve warmed up a lot by now, but the way Minami stares at him has never failed to make his heartbeat race faster.

“Mido-san, you’re blushing.” Minami chuckles sweetly and Torao has to look away now.

A retort makes its way to his throat but dies quickly, replaced with a defeated sigh. He lets his guard down for even half a second and the blonde will snap up the opportunity with that sly nature underneath an angelic smile (Not that he minds too much). 

“By the way, where are the others?”

Torao clears his throat, trying to clean up the mess Minami did to his heart, and opens up his phone. “Touma’s probably on his way. Haruka already got here though.”

“Oh, then I should-” Minami straightens up a bit and cleans up the music sheet in his hands. Torao stops him midway, placing a hand on his forearm. 

“Please. Kujo Tenn is here too so I’m going to bet Haruka won’t be here for another hour.” He rolls his eyes. “Do you think TRIGGER ever gets tired of their greenroom getting hogged by their center as a date spot?”

“I doubt the two care. But what about you, Mido-san? Do you ever get tired of ‘hogging’ our green room alone with me?”

Torao freezes then, becoming painfully aware that Minami has slid his arm so his hand now sits against Torao’s, fingers gently pressing against the skin of his palm like a feather. The touch feels like it could’ve been one of Minami’s teasing but it doesn’t feel exactly like that. There’s a sense of genuineness in them. For as long as Torao has known Minami, he likes to think that he knows the composer at least a little bit. Would it be self-centered to think that Minami wants to genuinely touch him? There’s a stinging realization that he wouldn’t be able to know for sure right away. Nevertheless, the answer is obvious as day.

“No.”

Minami’s lips shift into one of his softer smiles, one that only appears around the people he considers close. Torao wonders. If he manages to enter deeper into Minami’s heart, would he find other smiles? Ones that are reserved just for him.

Their intimate moment ends there. Minami pulls his hand away and it feels like his hand was never there in the first place. They both turn quiet, Minami cleaning up his scattered music sheets while Torao examines the side of his face. There’s one thing he realizes.

“You don’t have your braid.”

Minami’s hand comes up to the side of his hair and sighs. “I was going to do it here. I didn’t have enough time at home.”

“Want me to do it? It’ll be quicker.” Minami raises an eyebrow but decides to indulge his request anyway. He probably finds it amusing that Torao isn’t going to waste an opportunity to touch him, but Torao doesn't care that he's coming across a bit shameless.

Minami’s hair is soft between his fingers, almost like silk, and the strands slip off his fingers easily. Torao runs his fingers through them a few times and braids the side gently, careful not to accidentally pull or tug at the hair. As Torao stays focused on the work at hand, he doesn’t notice Minami closing his eyes, content, in the moment.

“When did you get so good at braiding?”

Torao snorts. As if this is the first time he’s braided Minami’s hair. There have been a few times now when it’s just the two of them alone, where Torao does Minami’s braid for him. It had looked terrible the first time but now he’s gotten quite skillful at it. The end result for this one looks quite good, perhaps his best work so far. 

Minami’s hand comes up to touch Torao’s work and his lips curl into a pleased smile. The composer keeps his lips shut, careful not to let his true feelings be so easily known. Torao doesn’t need to know that Minami thinks the older man’s hands felt nice in his hair. Enough to almost lull him back to sleep. 

He’s not ready to express his feelings just yet, but there’s something he wants to do. He turns to Torao. “Thank you. Mido-san, do you want me to reward you?”

The older man frowns. “Reward? Sure.”

Minami’s smile grows a little mischievous. He’s cute when he looks a little confused like this. He gently places his hand on Torao’s shoulder before raising his face until his lips hover right in front of Torao’s, not quite a kiss. Minami sees his eyes widening slightly at the realization of what he meant by reward. A hand coming to rest on Minami’s waist is the silent consent between them before their lips meet.

It’s neither their first kiss nor is it the first time they’ve kissed each other. Their relationship is a big grey area in their lives, not so much as friends but calling it an official relationship isn’t right either. What Minami does know is that Torao’s lips always feel so warm and sometimes even urgent and maybe even feverish in rare moments. This one isn’t any of those. It feels…sweet.

“Ugh, what the fu-”

Their moment is broken by Haruka’s flabbergasted tone as he stands under the doorway of their greenroom, his face growing completely red. In the hallway, standing in the spot where both Minami and Torao couldn’t see him, Kujo Tenn’s hand reaches to cover Haruka’s eyes.

“I told you not to open the door without knocking,” Tenn says as Haruka slaps his hand away.

Torao is the first to get up between them as he approaches Haruka. “Come back in an hour, you absolute brat.”

“You’re the one who’s making out in our greenroom!”

“Oh, like you don’t do the same with Kujo?”

As they continue to bicker, Torao slowly tries to close the door in Haruka’s face while Minami places his face into his hands, his blush reaching the tips of his ears.

[oofcat2112]

reality is the freckles on your face and the feathers on my dress (Vertin/Schneider)

Schneider understands the gesture perfectly. A heavy anchor buried in the soil that prevents them from flying away. She looks back up and counts her lord’s freckles again.

Schneider has a way to keep herself grounded in reality.

***

One, two, three, four, five-

“Does chicken sound okay for dinner to you?”

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten-

“Schneider? Are you counting them again?”

Oh. Schneider stops her counting. Whoops, looks like she's been caught again. Her lord is pouting now. How adorable. The girl in the red feather dress shrugs but her lips curl into a mischievous smile as she places her elbows on top of the counter. “My apologies.”

Vertin sighs. “Does it count as one if you're going to do it again?”

Schneider lets out a soft laugh. “Not quite my fault, they're much too cute to resist.”

The Timekeeper blushes red and shifts her gaze to look at the surface of the kitchen counter. Adorable. An expression from the usually stoic Timekeeper that's purely reserved for Schneider’s eyes.

This time, Schneider can't help herself as she slides off her spot and settles close to Vertin, the top of her head nuzzling the white-haired girl’s neck. A moment later, she feels Vertin’s hand finding hers just under the counter. It feels warm.

“I don't understand what's so fun about it though,” Vertin says, her free hand coming up to gently brush against her freckled skin.

Schneider hums in contemplation. She's had an answer ready for months now. A perfect, simple answer that does what it needs to satiate one’s curiosity without revealing too much. As much as Schneider trusted Vertin with her body and soul, this one secret is one she doesn't dare reveal. 

The more you keep your wish a secret, the more likely it is to come true.

Her wish is silly, ridiculous, and maybe even stupid but she keeps it close to her heart. Besides, no wish is truly stupid when it comes to her beloved Vertin.

***

She doesn’t quite remember when it began. Perhaps that moment when the storm ravaged the air surrounding them, as she felt the otherworldly rain droplets flying up from the ground beneath her feet, as she felt herself fading away with Vertin’s distraught expression above her. Schneider had smiled then, her heart had felt joy. Joy over Vertin’s eyes being the last thing she saw and her promise being the last thing she heard. But, another part of her felt lonely, guilty, angered. She did her best to keep them hidden as she wanted her smile to be what Vertin saw, not her pain. Then by some miracle from the universe, they were reunited. It had been a rare blessing as the universe is so rarely kind to someone like her and her bloodied hands.

The first few months were hard. It was hard to find balance, it was hard to get used to everything, it was hard to find proper boundaries and limits. When you’ve spent your entire life seeing black and red flags, green feels unnatural, wrong, odd. Vertin had been afraid to let Schneider out of her sight, terrified of her disappearing again and Schneider had been paranoid that this was all just some sick dream meant to torment her, that the Vertin in front of her was nothing but an alluring illusion in her afterlife. The universe isn’t kind to someone like me so this isn’t real, she thought. There were days in between where she felt like she shouldn’t get close to anything, especially the one she loved so dearly. One touch and it’ll all disperse like dust.

One night, Schneider woke up alone, light rain creating an odd lullaby just outside the walls. The sheets next to her were cold and Vertin had been nowhere in sight. She felt her chest tightening and her breath coming out in pants. It’s all a lie. A dream. Everything around her felt uncomfortable and suffocating, the rain outside sounded like droplets of blood falling onto the cold, hard ground after the fire of her gun. When Vertin entered the room again, glass of water in hand, Schneider thought she was seeing a ghost. Even as her Timekeeper held her close, it still felt so unreal and dream-like. Schneider’s eyes lingered on Vertin’s worried expression. 

She always thought that her lord’s little freckles were so cute. They were often hidden under the shadows of her hat, but they were so cute nonetheless. It always made her look just a bit more childish and younger. Oh, have a few disappeared? Or maybe new ones have appeared?

One, two three -

Vertin’s arms were warm.

Four, five, six -

Her words of comfort were lovely.

Seven, eight, nine -

It wasn’t a dream.

***

“Schneider? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Oh. Has she been daydreaming for too long? Vertin must’ve caught the slightly dazed expression on her face. Schneider smiles and squeezes her hand, an assurance. Vertin’s shoulders relax slightly and that is when Schneider catches her lord’s fingers touching the tip of one of the feathers of her dress. She barely feels it and Vertin pulls her touch away quickly soon after.

Schneider understands the gesture perfectly. A heavy anchor buried in the soil that prevents them from flying away. She looks back up and counts her lord’s freckles again. One, two three -

It seems like she’s still here, in her beautiful and very real reality. The warmth around her hand is real, the ghost of the touch lingering on the feathers of her dress is real, Vertin is real. 

I’m real too.

“Schneider?”

She couldn’t resist at that point. Her lord is pouting again so how can she not lean forward to press a light kiss against her lips? When she pulls away, her lips curl into a satisfied smile while Vertin’s cheeks grow bright red. Her beautiful reality. One that she will live and be happy in. When time decides to erode her existence like it already did once, she hopes it’s one where she's lived a long life with her beloved at her side.

“It’s fun, my lord.” Schneider grins. “I wouldn’t want them to suddenly get stolen now, would I?”