nazuna "(ง •̀_•́)ง" nito (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pronounces) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
potosi2017-10-29 10:49 pm
pronounces) wrote in potosi2017-10-29 10:49 pm
Entry tags:
this is real hell
me: do you ever think about how these two characters who have the worst fucked up relationship might be better if taken out of their circumstances
me, several aus and many tears later: i made a mistake
aka AU shunazu dropbox i'll make this pretty later
me, several aus and many tears later: i made a mistake
aka AU shunazu dropbox i'll make this pretty later
icons and stuff later but; that au you stayed up till 3am talking about LAUGHS
shu hates the rain. it's partly because it's the antithesis of her entire being (sun, fire goddess, all that jazz) but it's mostly because the sky and rain are governed by eichi, and shu is quite sure that the only reason why it hasn't stopped raining in the past week is because eichi is fucking with her.
scratch that, she's not just quite sure, shu is absolutely 110% sure about that fact.
(she may or may not be bitter and petty.)
the level of rain and storming basically also means that shu is pretty much. confined to nazuna's house for the most part, since being drenched in this rain is a sure-fire recipe to falling ill and then shu will never be able to recover quickly enough to take her revenge. at least, that's what nazuna says. she's honestly about to go stir crazy from confinement at this rate, coupled with being saddled with a weak human body that seems to be taking twenty times as long to heal even at a normal pace.
so, if or when nazuna decides to enter her - now shu's - bedroom, she'll find shu brooding and staring out the window, watching the rain and scowling every single time a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky. her pink hair undulates down her back in an almost regal fashion, obscuring the bandages which are wrapped around the top of her back, around the wingbone and shoulder.
getting one's wings cut off still hurts like hell (not that rei would ever let her enter hell) and when shu turns around once she's noticed nazuna, she's gritting her teeth and refusing to let the sharp stab of pain show on her features. ]
hell is real... also it was surprisingly easy to find a lady icon
the weather sucks, that's for sure. though nazuna's been in and out for work, teaching classes in the morning and running errands for shu in the evening, it's been miserable and wet, and even her favorite, bright pink and yellow polka dot rainboots couldn't make it any less dreary.
shu's mood doesn't really help, either. nazuna can feel her displeasure, and she knows why--whether she's still a goddess or not, shu has a certain gravitas that weighs down the entire room (or lifts it, though that seems far rarer). she's beautiful and terrible, and nazuna's been infatuated with her since she dragged her into her apartment to keep her from dying in the middle of the road--though, admittedly, she was awfully pretty when she wasn't picking an argument with nazuna and awake a few hours later.
so, displeasure or not, nazuna's not scared of her. she enters the room quietly, shutting the door behind her and carrying her first aid kit (designed for the scrapes, bumps and bruises of her clumsy next door neighbor, mostly, now mostly used on a goddess and the fire spirit that trails around her apartment every now and then) under her arm.
shu looks a bit like an angry, puffed up bird, wings or not, glowering at the window like that. it's almost cute. she doesn't say what she's thinking, though, instead shutting the door behind her. under her other arm is something small; a little package, so she kicks it shut with her heel. ]
Itsuki, are you ready for me to change your bandages? [ ...not that she's going to let her say no, but whatever. ]
waggles my eyebrows
there's a lot of talking himself into it as he gets dressed, half stuttering as he looks at the packages on his and shu's bed. it'd taken him a solid week to even work up the courage to order this stuff, but it's shu's birthday, and considering how much he hates parties, it's the least nazuna can do to give him a private celebration of their own.
so, he carefully lays out the clothes on the bed, trying to make them as neat as possible. they're laid out in the style of an outfit, a pair of nice, dark underwear laid out underneath. aside from that, there's a package of maroon and gold shibari cord beside it.
as he hears shu's key click in the lock, nazuna makes a little, surprised unya!, as if he wasn't the one who texted shu to ask if he was going to come home early. he's managed to strip down to his underwear and a shirt of shu's, buttoned loosely over his small frame, and he pokes his head out into the hall, his voice maybe just a little too high pitched. ] In the b'roo-[ AHEM. ] Bedroom.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i guess
yeah, shu itsuki is absolutely the kind of person that, you know, doesn't really celebrate birthdays. they're too noisy, too lively, and in the grand scheme of things, it's just another day, so there's really no real reason for all this ruckus. he'd rather channel that focus into the studio, into work.
so really, it's no surprise that nazuna's text asking if he's going to come home early for once is what causes the date to click in his head.
he still doesn't really suspect anything, actually, after he sheds his coat and puts his bag down, spots nazuna's head poking out into the hallway and kind of just. follows along, bare feet on carpeted floor heading towards the bedroom and--
oh.
the outfit laid out on the bed is the first thing that he notices - it's not something that he's made, so of course he notices, maroon and gold and black and are those stockings--
and when he turns to see nazuna dressed in one of his shirts, just drowning in the plain white fabric, shu kind of. blinks.
connects the dots.
(ok maybe his mouth has fallen open a bit and there's definitely a hint of pink colouring his cheeks but-- goddamnit he's way too weak for this.)
he snaps his mouth shut, and moves to sit on the bed, next to the outfit that nazuna's laid out, and beckons nazuna closer. ]
You did this for me? [ ok so maybe the question is rhetorical but he asks anyway, and when nazuna's close enough, shu's touch is light, over his cheek, the length of nazuna's throat, and then his fingers work at the first closed button and then downwards.
he likes seeing nazuna in his shirts, but there's something else that he's more interested in seeing, obviously. ]
yolo
he had control over the outfit, but that doesn't mean he picked something way out of shu's tastes, either. it met in the middle--cute, but not too cute, classy, but not stuffy. he actually kind of likes it, and the anticipation that's led up to this moment makes him bite his lip as he watches shu's reaction.
score. though he doesn't totally show it on his face, nazuna knows a victory when he sees one, and he makes his way over to shu with almost a hop, eager enough to get close. he can stand between his legs this way, lean in close and let the anticipation and adrenaline run through his veins. it's too early to be turned on, probably, but there's something hot about the way shu touches him, leaving a trail of fire wherever his fingers brush.
he pinkens underneath the fingers on his cheek and draws his head up, trying not to fidget too much. ] I wasn't going to let your birthday just pass by.
[ so, yes. of course he did this for shu. no parties, no cake; just the two of them, and a whole different kind of present.
there's a mischevious twinkle to his eye, transfixed or not, as he lets the shirt shrug to his shoulders when shu gets it completely unbuttoned. he sounds suggestive, playful. ] I always thought you liked wrapping your presents more than unwrapping them.
better late than never, i guess
but nazuna's right - shu does enjoy dressing him up, whether it's just small items like coordinating the colours of their shirts or other accessories, and it's no exception here, shu reaching for the maroon fabric of the shirt in the outfit and smoothing out the tiny creases in the fabric before pulling the fabric over nazuna's shoulders, the sleeves over his arms - each touch is calculated, almost, lingering just slightly longer than strictly necessary.
there's a ghost of a smile on his features as he does up the buttons. ]
Hm. It depends. I wouldn't want to leave a masterpiece wrapped up for too long.
[ a tug here to straighten out the fabric, and shu rolls up the sleeves - they're a little long, the only defect in an otherwise perfectly tailored shirt. the waistcoat goes on next, and for a moment, it's silent as shu fixes it up - and when he's done, he leans in, presses a chaste, lingering kiss to nazuna's lips before he pulls away.
there's definitely a note of admiration there. for obvious reasons. the maroon and black contrast beautifully with his skin, and it's perfectly fitted, not a single thread out of place. ]
... You look beautiful. [ and it's fond, even as he gestures for nazuna to change out, both the underwear and the stockings.
(nazuna's going to kill him, one day.) ]
Go on. Show me.
<3
god, he's hanging on his every, single movement, on his every single word, his every single movement. shu tends to do this to him, has since the first time nazuna ever saw him dance, and he sucks in a breath as he fixes on the waistcoat, then opens his eyes, finally, looking up at him.
show me...? show me. right.
nazuna's face explodes in bright red, because even if he's doing his best to celebrate his boyfriend's birthday, even if he can keep up with him, that doesn't make this any less embarrassing. ] Right. [ he manages without a stutter, and takes a step back from him to let him actually watch.
nazuna hooks his fingers in the waistband of his normal underwear and pulls them down, carefully, stepping out of them and leaving himself bare for just a little bit. he keeps his gaze down for that part, a bit embarrassed, and starts to tug up the plain, black pair--they're a little tight, nicely silhoutting his butt, but there's really only one thing that matters here.
inhaling a little, nazuna glances at shu, and makes his decision. he presses his fingers gently to shu's chest to push him backwards, so he sits down. it's only then that he picks up one of the stockings--thigh high, with a black, lace top, and carefully works it over his foot, then sets it to the side, right next to shu.
from there, he can lift up the stocking right there, pulling the thin, filmy fabric up and up over his knee, to his thigh, leaning forward to present shu with a nice view of his pale, small thigh. ]
no subject
(the same kind that shu uses backstage, for pre-performance jitters.)
and when nazuna takes a step back, there's faint smile on the edge of his lips, his gaze approving. he doesn't rush nazuna, allows him to take it at his own pace, but this close, nazuna can probably see the way his pupils dilate, how he leans forward just that little bit more when he steps out of his underwear, the slight, sharp intake of breath when nazuna replaces it with the one that comes with the outfit, and god--
nazuna really is going to kill him some day.
and it's also a good thing that he's mastered the art of poker facing (especially on stage, when a stray facial expression can break the entire performance) because he's not expecting nazuna to push him backwards and okay, technically he asked for this, but it still doesn't change the fact that he can see the drag of lace and nylon up the length of nazuna's leg, over his knee, to his thigh, and the fabric swatch is perfect, black on cream--
god, nazuna's going to push him to his limit.
it's obvious, in the way that shu's breath hitches, a flash of hunger in his gaze, carefully controlled. ]
The other. [ it's. not really a suggestion, and thank fuck his tone is still stable, or still sounds like it at any rate, because this is really getting to him more than it should. ]
no subject
but it's helping to spur him on, too. he can catch on to everything, hyper aware of his dance partner's motions. that's the whole point of dancing together, right? of knowing each other. that hunger shoots straight down his spine, turns him on even worse than before, to the point that the briefs he put on feel a little uncomfortable. but it's hot, and the lack of suggestion in his tone just makes it even worse. nazuna's matching him, irises just a thin circle of pink, the heat on his cheeks only matching the one boiling up in his stomach.
he follows the command as easily as anything. nazuna sets his right leg down, takes a moment to run the fingers of his right hand up the space between the top of the stockings and the bottom of his underwear. it gives him a second to regains his composure, and to watch shu react, to watch him follow his hands with his eyes. it's intoxicating, and he exhales, slowly, letting himself fall into the scene.
he lifts his other leg and this time, carefully places his perfectly pointed toes in his lap, touching the inside of his thighs and the crotch of his pants. nazuna looks at him, feels his mouth going dry, but lowers his gaze to carefully roll the second stocking up, right there in shu's line of sight. ]
whoops my hand slipped
this late, after everyone has gone home, the studio is empty, and this is shu's domain, among the wooden floors and full length mirrors along every wall and the ballet barre alongside one wall. the shoes he's wearing are canvas, full-sole, elastic sewn on a long time ago, well-worn and used - it's not his first pair of shoes, shu has no time for nostalgia of that sort, but they are the most comfortable pair that he owns, moulding to his feet like a second skin.
there's music playing faintly in the background, and it's easy to catch the beat and the rhythm of the soft classical music, as shu shifts from first position to second position to third with the ease of long-term muscle memory, languid movement with hidden sharpness.
they called him a prodigy once, long arms and full extensions and all his weight balanced on the balls of his feet in a perfect elevé and shu will never be able to dance that way again, but here, in his sanctuary, he can pick up the fallen pieces, let the fluidity of his first love do the talking.
and despite the mirrors, he doesn't notice, doesn't pay attention when the door to the studio opens; he's too focused - feet turned out, front foot about one foot away from the back, perfect fourth position. ]
welp
the walk to shu's studio is muscle memory, too. nazuna's feet carry him there without even really thinking about it, his headphones in his ears as he walks with his head down, bobbing just slightly to the rhythm of the song over them. it's a soft, dreamy sort of evening, the campus quiet with people studying for finals, and the walk to the studio is accompanied with thoughts of the memories he'd had with mizu--izumi. he'd been some kind of idol, some kind of ballerina (and it tastes bitter in his mouth, the thought that the very thing he'd run from came back to bite him once more), so he could ask, maybe, or see if shu was busy, or--
no, no. he can't bother him, not while he's composing. nazuna's retired, now, by choice instead of by force, but he still makes his way to the studio, hearing the soft sound of music from down the hallway. it's something classical, so he's working on classical dance, and he slides open the door as quietly as possible and is presented with a sight.
nazuna's always thought itsuki was the most handsome when he danced. polished, beautiful, sovereign, a man in charge of his every motion. it's captivating to watch him even just move through the motions, and as he pulls his headphones out, nazuna, quiet as a bunny rabbit, shuts the door and leans against it to watch him dance, heartbeat thumping against his ribcage.
in this studio, dancing is home. it's a place that nazuna, even years after he broke free, would come visit when it gathered dust, a place he's looked on with fondness, and a place he now associates with the very person who's making it come to life right before his eyes. ]
no subject
shu itsuki is a dancer - and it bleeds into his every mindset. every jump should be higher, and every spin should be sharper, and every connection should thrill the audience just as much as the elements one is connecting. he's in the middle of a rond de jambe, leg extended and toes pointed, the drag of the circle lasting the full eight counts as he holds onto the ballet barre, and the exercise is fluid, easy, basic, a standard warm up routine before moving into something a little bit more difficult.
it's only when he's about to shift to another exercise that he finally notices nazuna standing in the corner, their eyes meeting in the mirror, and it takes shu a moment to catch himself, to slide back into first position, heels touching, just barely.
for a moment, none of them speak.
in the background, there's the slow build of crescendos and single strand melodies played by a sole piano.
and finally, finally, shu speaks. ]
Nazuna. [ his posture is still held a little bit too tightly, like he's still on stage, still performing, echoes of a distant, inaccessible past.
it also sounds a bit like did you need something? ]
no subject
so, when shu stops and looks at him, nazuna stays on the memory for a moment, letting the image of a much younger shu--shorter, but not all that different--fade away with the end of his ronde de jambe, until he's brought crisply back to the present with the music playing in the background.
does he need something? he snaps out of it for a second, and then nods, shouldering out of his dance bag so it hits the ground with a thunk. he's got his dance shoes on, anyway, and he's long since decided what he was going to do.
he makes his way over to shu, steps surer than they ever were when he was younger, and holds out his hand, just one. ] ...if you're not busy.
[ stupid, obviously, he's busy. but sometimes, things feel just a little awkward between them--like there's a gap nazuna's still desperately trying to fill in. ] Can you show me?
no subject
when shu first taught nazuna how to dance, it was different, sneakers instead of ballet shoes, hard hitting beats instead of graceful extensions, but in the end--
nothing's really changed, actually.
there's a silence again, because shu has never really been good with words, he's always found it easier to express himself through movement, when words have failed him at some points, and his gaze is piercing, though it flickers to the way nazuna's dance bag hits the floor with a thunk, and while his expression is unreadable, his posture relaxes just a little bit.
it's almost unnoticeable.
but there's relief there, when shu nods, gestures for nazuna to step closer, right up to the ballet barre, and it's a tentative invitation, because it's been years and shu isn't used to doubting himself, not when his movements used to be confident, when his steps were more sure, more elegant. ]
Come here. [ close enough, that it's easy to reach over and touch, that shu can smell the faint hint of nazuna's soap. he pokes at nazuna's arm, a small gesture to hold onto the barre with both hands, for support.
from there, it's easy, shu shifting with a fluid motion to step behind nazuna, hands placed on nazuna's hips, professional but guiding.
nazuna is lean and taut under his hands, and perhaps he's imagining it, but his heartbeat sounds a little bit too loud in his own ears, every exhale sounds a little bit too magnified, a little bit too thundering. ]
Try an elevé. Up on the balls of your feet, and hold there.
[ the french rolls off his tongue like it's second nature, borne from the many years of practice and drills and his love for the language, as natural as breathing since he's known this from the time he was seven years old and slipped on his very first pair of ballet shoes. ]
no subject
his ballet background is pretty minimal. he knows the basics, the positions, but if shu wants him to try, then he'll try.
still, instinctually, he takes in a breath as shu puts his hands on his hips, then opens his eyes to look at them in the mirror. it looks like a lover's embrace from here; he's not really complaining. so, with that exhale, nazuna pushes up onto the balls of his feet and stays still, drawing his core up and his shoulders back to keep his balance. his fingers flex on the barre before he wraps them around it, grip firm and familiar. it really is a bit like riding a bike--he'd always been quick on the uptake, especially when it came to dance.
(besides, he could do this--listening to shu speak french, dancing with him--all day long.) ]
no subject
he still remembers, as clear as day, when they were both preteens and nazuna was the most beautiful person that shu had seen in his entire life, bright eyed with golden hair and pure unrivalled determination to push himself to mimic shu's every move in the mirrors of the dance studio.
nothing's changed much, in that sense.
it's a decent attempt for someone who hasn't lived and breathed ballet, and shu can feel the muscles of nazuna's torso under his hands as he lifts and nazuna follows, fingers moving to make minute adjustments to nazuna's posture, the set of his shoulders, and by this time shu is close enough for his chest to be almost pressed against nazuna's back, a pleased look and an approving nod when their reflections catch each other's gazes in the mirror. ]
Relax. You're gripping the barre too tightly. [ it's a soft murmur, mild admonishment accompanied by shu's hands pulling nazuna back down to the floor after holding there for sixteen counts, eight counts of sinking back down to the floor with both feet firmly placed on the floor again. ] Do you remember first position?
[ he should - it was one of the few things shu had shown him, back then, when they were both younger - but still, and shu's own feet shift back in demonstration - hips turned out, heels touching to create as straight a line as possible. ]
no subject
it feels good to have him this close, too. nazuna glances up, and that pleased look lights something up in him, the feeling of satisfaction of pleasing shu. itsuki, his oshi-san, the nickname long since unused, but...here, it feels like being zipped into one of shu's perfectly made outfit.
he exhales, and carefully sinks back down as told. first position is easy, and he nods, then mirrors him. nazuna's always been lithe and quick on the uptake, even though it's been years since he last picked up his dancing shoes, and he slides into first position just in front of him.
(they're still so, so close; it feels good to let shu take control of his body, just for a little bit, still conscious of what he's doing but letting shu guide him.) ] It's not that hard.
[ his tone just has a hint of a tease to it. i can handle more than that. ]
no subject
I'm just checking - turn your hips out a little more. [ a tap, over nazuna's right hip, before long, elegant fingers press on the small of nazuna's back, just off the centre, off the bumps of his spine underneath his clothes. ] Straighten your back a little bit more, you'll get a better line.
[ it's always been all about the detailing, because shu is meticulous and that's always been the difference that pushed it, elevated it from something normal to pure art.
there's a part of him that wants to press a little closer; rest his chin on nazuna's shoulder and…
(he doesn't.)
instead, what he does is to guide - first position to second position to third, and nazuna has always been pliant under his hands, perfectly moulded, lithe and effortless; hips turned out similar to first position but the heel of the front foot touching the arch of the back foot, left foot in front.
and then-- ] Try an arabesque. [ there's a slight nudge there, just to get nazuna to step back away from the ballet barre, just enough for there to be space to execute the move, shu moving to stand in front of nazuna now, hands braced on nazuna's hips for support, his grip firm but gentle. ] Put your weight on your left foot and lift your right leg. [ he wanted a challenge, right? ] See if you can lift your leg ninety degrees.
[ don't worry, I'll support you, is implied, even if shu doesn't say it outright.
nazuna has the makings of an ballerina, an excellent one, if he'd trained as long as shu had, channeled that energy and that talent into art instead of being an idol and child star.
how wasted, shu doesn't say, because even in these small, basic movements, nazuna moves with shades of that airiness and lightness that every danseur pursues. ]
no subject
he moves lithely, always a good dancer. he'd been somewhat of a sponge the entire time they worked together--shu sniffed and told him his work was too hard, and nazuna said, teach me. it was easy for him, dancing had been easy (becoming someone's puppet had been easy, turning off his own emotions and his feelings to let his manager pull his strings, because why try hard when you're doing what everyone asks already?) and now, as himself, it feels more fulfilling. this isn't dressed as a zombie for a teenager's program, doing a silly dance number for screaming, excited fourteen year olds.
this is elegant, this is--this is something real. shu's fingers anchor him to the ground, and he inhales to try the move.
it's not perfect, but he takes shu's guidance and pushes up, onto his left foot, right foot coming up. it's almost straight, just a few degrees off, and he exhales, cheeks flushing pink with the exertion as he looks at himself and shu in the mirror, surprised. ]
no subject
not bad, actually.
( "I don't know if you're dancer material," he remembers telling nazuna, once upon a time, when they were both younger, steps and dynamic uncertain and when they had barely figured out how to fall in tempo with each other, nazuna a quickening allegro and shu the swell of a grave to moderato and yet, and nazuna had looked back at him with a determined set in his jaw and tried--
it's the first time nazuna nito's surprised him.)
it's not the last time either. and although shu vaguely remembers nazuna being a little more flexible than this (it's probably the lack of practice speaking), it's a decent attempt although the perfectionist in him says otherwise, and shu meets nazuna's expression in the mirror, flushed and radiant, and his breath catches, just for a moment-- ]
Keep your balance, your weight centred. You're leaning a little too far front.
[ he's never really been one for praise, but the critique speaks for itself, for the most part.
shu's heart beats like a drum, staccato beats in half time, sharp and quick in a way that doesn't quite match the slow, languid movements they're doing, and betrays the strength of shu's want.
it's easier, instead, to focus on manipulating nazuna's arms, shoulders turned out, arms extended into a third position, lets him get used to the way his body feels - straightened toes, lifted ribcage, the discs of his spine piled neatly one on top of the other, the way he knows that it's supposed to feel. ]
You're--
[ and it stops there.
beautiful, he wants to say, but it stops there.
there's so much that he wants to say, things that he doesn't know if he can say, anymore, and the twisting in his gut is almost painful, his eyes tracing the minute movements of nazuna trying to maintain his balance.
the least he can offer is his support. ]
no subject
he lets him move his arms in the correct way, too. it's a strange feeling, his body not used to moving that way, but it's not bad. he feels...powerful, sort of. graceful, lithe and elegant. he looks at his reflection in the mirror and doesn't see a too-short-too-skinny-knobby-kneed former child star.
nazuna sees someone with potential. he sees shu's hands on his body and sees someone who could do great things, a nazuna who could step back onto the stage and do the things he wanted to do instead of the things he was told. every muscle in his body is starting to strain from the effort of trying to hold himself in this complicated position, but he doesn't want to drop it. he doesn't want to disappoint him.
nazuna wants to make him proud. nazuna wants to capture the look on his face in the mirror forever--it's like being twelve again, filled with a rush of adrenaline as his impossibly beautiful, impossibly talented dance teacher gave him something close to his approval. ]
no subject
it's why, if he closes one eye, ignores the way nazuna's legs are probably shaking from sheer exertion, ho his extensions are not quite perfect, focuses on the way he holds himself instead--
nazuna looks up at shu like he's the sky and shu looks down at nazuna like he's the earth, and there's a million things going through shu's mind now, combinations and spins in fouetté en tournant, waltz steps and promenades and lifts, glissade across wooden floors in leather shoes and moving into a pas de deux and it's inspiration, creativity all in one, even as shu guides nazuna back down onto his own feet, breaking the lines and the picture and returning to normal as the music fades in the background from a lively allegro to a more manageable moderato bridge. ]
Better.
[ there's a rare, small smile on his features, affection and pride, and his fingers curl around nazuna's, linger on for slightly longer than absolutely necessary before he lets go.
it simmers and burns, under his skin, and if ballet is shu itsuki's first love, nazuna nito is shu's second, greater love.
(if only he actually says it, but that's another matter altogether.)]no subject
his fingers have left little pools of heat on his skin, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. nazuna used to crave shu's touch, his affection, when they were working together as teacher and student, and that doesn't go away--it's matured, now, a curl of heat that leaves his cheeks pink instead of his heart hammering against his ribcage like a child.
it's still there, though. he still craves his attention, his praise. how could he not? it takes a solid moment for him to snap out of it, and he exhales, a shaky breath as his hands move away from the barre.
he doesn't want to snap the moment at all, but, it might be better that way. he inhales, though he doesn't move away from shu. they're still close, and he tilts his head up to look at him instead of at the mirror. ] ...it's as hard as ever.
[ as everything you ever taught him, anyway. his smile's a little sheepish, but warm nonetheless, as he looks up at shu and gives him his purest attention. ] I think I liked watching you better.
no subject
nazuna throws him off-kilter, sometimes.
for one, when nazuna finally lands back on his feet, there's that belated realisation that nazuna is... probably going to ache later, and that makes his smile falter a little bit, actually, since he'd completely eschewed warming up earlier in the heat of the moment - but it's something that they can deal with later. ]
You did fine. Merely a lack of practice, that's all.
[ it would sound a little bit more severe if not for the almost matching pink colour on his own cheeks, just a shade lighter than his own bleached hair, and--
perhaps it's a little uncharacteristic, but also a little stiff and slightly unintentionally awkward - it's like that moment, when one finishes a dance, before the audience applauds, that one moment where your heart sits in your throat from a combination of triumph, exhaustion, fear and anticipation. it feels like nothing, and an eternity at the same time.
at least until his gaze catches nazuna's and shu doesn't avert it, doesn't break eye contact, and nazuna's sheepish smile, warm and full of light--
(it's like the applause, the validation that comes from sold out concert venues and rave reviews.)
it's probably skirting the edge of professional and not, and maybe it's an impulsive decision, but maybe it also isn't, but shu lets his hand drop when he lets go, slides an arm around nazuna's waist, a fleeting touch along the small of his back before it lingers.
is this okay, he seems to be asking. ]
Just watching?
[ is what he asks instead. ]
no subject
at twelve years old, nazuna had decided he was in love with shu. he was amazing, so graceful and powerful and awe-inspiring. he'd seen him then and known he was something special, something different, but he'd never worked up the courage to say anything. after all, he was just... nazuna, a knobby kneed tv star who barely had a personality, compared to him. and then, just like that, he'd disappeared.
so this might be a little new. this might make his heart skip a beat or two when he's up close (he can catch a whiff of the shampoo shu uses, his laundry detergent, feel the warmth from his skin where he was dancing) but it's a familiar song and dance all the same.
it makes him smile, tugging the sheepish edges up a little, and he lifts his small arms up to rest around his neck. they're still close to the barre, but in this studio, every single movement nazuna has ever made has always felt like something beautiful. ]
I can follow your lead. [ of course it's okay. that's his answer, and it rings back as clear as day, and his voice is fond, warm with the memories, with the idea of getting to dance together with him again. ]
christmas things ★ aka it's 1.30am and i'm too tired to think of a witty thread title
(ok, shu.)
for the most part, he seems to have avoided the horrors of holiday shopping and other christmas-related things, except that the one thing that he hasn't quite factored in is the fact that when wakes up on the morning (more like almost-noon) of the day before christmas eve, is that the entire apartment smells like, well.
baked goods.
the answer is immediately obvious when shu follows the scent of baking into his own kitchen and oh. nazuna's up early, and there's christmas decorations in the hallway that weren't there last night when he came home, and honestly, that just leaves him standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a rather blankly bewildered look for a moment because he doesn't quite exactly recall if he's given nazuna permission to like, do this--
(the answer is yes, when he was half asleep, which is the only reason why shu doesn't remember it, oops.)
but in the end: ]
... Nazuna?
[ he still sounds bewildered, and it's accompanied by a brief press to his temples as if he's not quite sure whether he's dreaming or he hasn't woken up properly just yet. ]
jingles bells
besides, he's always been someone who loves to give. that's the true spirit of christmas for him: the idea that he can give gifts, that he can make other people so happy.
so, he woke up early for a saturday, whispered in shu's ear, can i hang up a few things, it won't take long--and, of course, it was at six AM, so one can hardly blame him for just saying yes, and got right to work. it has to be subtle. it has to be tasteful, but nazuna wants shu to see the christmas that he gets to see, even if it takes him all morning long.
he'll take advantage of shu's dancer's schedule to do so. he disappears out of the house to pick up christmas decorations and gets right to it. nazuna's hung lights, softly twinkling gold and red in the hall, a beautiful wreath on the door to match. it's left the hallway just faintly rose colored, and there's a pretty ribbon tied around a banister, white and printed with soft silver snowflakes. that takes a couple of hours--then, he gets right to work on baking.
the whole house smells like ginger and spices, now. there's his third sheet of gingerbread in the oven, and he's cutting out shapes in a cooked piece when shu trods into the kitchen. dressed in casual clothes, a shirt just a little too big and sweatpants, and an apron over to protect it (it's shu's; nazuna's a habitual clothing thief, but he's not getting icing all over his boyfriend's shirt), nazuna lifts his head and smiles at him. he's got powdered sugar all over the apron, and there's a smear of flour on his cheek. ]
Good morning, sleepyhead! [ he chirps, cheerful, clearly as happy as happy can be. ] Sorry about the mess, I'll clean it up now.