RP Log: Fuji/Bunta
Feb. 7th, 2006 06:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
http://users.livejournal.com/_lensflare/ posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenipuri_xpDate: Current (07 Feb 06; evening)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some language, minor sexual references, unmitigated fluff
Summary: Following a couple of private entries, Bunta and Shuusuke finally have a talk, coming to a resolution.
A list. Bunta had wanted a list.
Well, Shuusuke would give him a list, then, if that's what he was after, and he'd tape it to the door so Bunta could see it when he left in the morning.
Closing the (internetindisguiseasa~) phone with a soft click, Bunta climbed off the counter, done with work for the day after a final bow to the kitchen manager. Hoping Shuu would be where he left him, Bunta started off for their room, maybe he'd be done with that stupid list when he got back.
And within a few minutes, he was pushing open the door, eyes drifting to Shuu before walking to the bunny (shelovedhimthesamerightnow~).
Of course. Bunta went to the rabbit before Shuusuke. He set down his pen and sighed, swiveling in his desk chair to face him ... her ... whatever. "How was work?" he asked brightly.
Picking up Harley, he set her on the bed before walking over to the wadrobe to change (hatedthefuckingworkclothes, onedaytheywouldBURN~). "Was the same as ever~. Filled with kitchen utensil abuse and the new kid spilling everything. How was your list-making~?"
Shuusuke glanced at the half-made list on the desk. "Well enough," he said, though the more he looked it over, the more pointless it seemed. He didn't want Bunta to be angry with him, any more than he himself wanted to be angry.
The list would no doubt make Bunta angry, even if more than half of it was true -- the skirts, for one, and the pink hair, and a half dozen other not-so-superficial things that hadn't bothered him near as much when Bunta had been physically male. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Why wouldn't I be~?" Buttoning up his skirt after pulling on a shirt (a cheap thing that loudly stated in English - "howmanylickstogettothecentre? FINDOUTHERE."), he walked over and held his hand out for the list, nails painted blue last night in a fit of boredom (was he really that fucking girly? Damn.)
"Because it's hardly an accurate representation of how I see you," Shuusuke admitted. Best to let the mask just drop, then; let the smile fade and the lashes lift.
"But it's how you see me all the same, hmm?" Raising an eyebrow at him, Bunta took the moment to take the list and settle on the bed, wondering if it was too late just to feed the thing to the rabbit now attempting to hop into his lap. "Come here, have to read it with you."
Well, Fuji supposed, he could at least explain himself then. He sat beside Bunta, intimately close as usual, and looked over his own neat handwriting. It was so silly ...
All the things here were things even before he had turned female and clingy? Fragile? Hell, crazy was on the bloody list even though it was crossed out. Baking did not make him a girl, what he wore didn't... Damn it all.
"You are... Why?" I thought you liked me for me.
"You wanted a list," Fuji said flatly. "All you asked was to define what made you girly -- that's all I did. That's all I wrote." He wanted to kiss away the tears that didn't fall; wanted to offer another touch, a hand to comfort.
He hesitated, but covered Bunta's hand with his own. "It's not reasons I don't like you."
"I know..." Still seemed like a list of his faults, Shuu wanted a boyfriend instead he got a girly something that turned into a girlfriend, damnit. Resisting the urge to lean into him, Bunta turned the paper over then handed it back, eyes still holding back tears (how bad was it that he could count the bloody pants he owned on his fingers? He was meant to be male, for fucks sake, that's what Shuu wanted).
"New list, the reasons why you don't like if these aren't it, want help? Start down the faulty brain down, hmm?"
"There's only one," Shuusuke said, quietly and darkly, hoping a lower volume might counteract Bunta's oncoming hysterics. "There's only one," he repeated, and faced Bunta, bracing hands on her shoulders, squaring her to face him.
He wasn't sure if he could let it on, but here he was, his own mask pushed away, dissolved, and he just had to say it, and it would be done. "I don't see you," he enunciated. You don't show me who you really are.
And it did, the voice quickly pulling his attention to Shuu, eyes locking with those rarely seen, pretty blue (but seemingly deadly~). Only one... And the only thing that he couldn't do because he didn't even know that, who the hell that was.
"There's no me like there is you, can't see what isn't there, there's no me~."
"Yes, there is. I've seen it." He trailed his hands down her shoulders, taking both hands in his own. Maybe he'd only seen it once, but it had been enough to draw him to Bunta in the first place.
And maybe he'd been silly to think that he could shower enough affection and attention on this boy, this almost-man two years his senior, that he might get to see something shining and private; that a world might open up to him and him alone. He cupped Bunta's face in his hand. "I know you're there," he insisted, quiet -- too quiet, because he knew he was guilty of the same crime himself.
"I've given you everything though, there's nothing left..." Squeezing the hands now holding his own, he showed the frustration that was gnawing on him now. What did Shuu want, just for him to act seripously for once? Was that all there was to it? Shuu always seemed that way underneath it all but that wasn't what Bunta was... Or what it meant to be how he was?
Had he? Shuusuke knew that Bunta wasn't really that vapid, couldn't be so shallow as to have already let on everything that he was made of. "Peel back the layers," Shuusuke murmured.
So fucking useless, there wasn't any more, just worries and fears and everything else that made up a human, what was normal and boring and so useless, why bother with it? Beyond that, there was nothing more, just sparkles then serious then angst, all called layers and that was all there was. "What you see if what you get~."
Shuusuke kept his voice low and still and quiet and honest, like a lake without wind, scarcely a ripple across the surface and clear enough to see to the very bottom of the depths. He tilted Bunta's chin up, then, meeting his eyes (his, yes, though at this point Bunta wasn't really either gender, just a person), probing the violet to determine every last shade of plum and lilac and indigo that lie hidden in those irises. "Then tell me what I'm looking at," he said.
Staring back, he thought a moment, Shuu's voice lulling him into thinking before he replied "Me~, Marui Bunta, illusionist by day, your's by night. Kenta's older brother, living failure~. Entertainment guaranteed and all of those good things~. Mmm, willing sex-slave and... Someone who hates genders, labels, what-the-fuck-have-you. I'm everything and nothing then, is that what you wanted?"
"Not a failure." He'd gotten far enough to let himself touch him more, and pressed a long kiss to Bunta's cheek, in the hopes that it might coax a more positive response from him. "Artist," he supplied, "mutant, thinker, philosopher." He spared a pat for Harley, curled in Bunta's lap. "Animal lover." And then, meeting his eyes again. "My lover." But while all the labels applied, not a single one -- hell, not all of them combined -- did well enough to sum up Marui Bunta.
Shuusuke knew this; it was likely Bunta knew this as well. "Don't tell me," he said after a long moment, breath heavy behind his words. "Show me."
"Yours~." Shuu was sweet, he was all of those things as well, softly smiling in return, Bunta tilted his head up, doing just that, showing~. By kissing, slow and sweet and submissive, not biting or messy like he liked, hard and fast just another layer, seemingly. One that was pushed aside for now, no matter how enjoyable it seemed. Pulling back, he added to the list of what he was. "Loved, thankful and yours, always~... No matter what Harley thinks." Couldn't resist, darn it.
Loved ...
... that was it, wasn't it? That was the missing element that Shuusuke had been hard-pressed to name, and he'd been too quick to blame lack of sex or presence of insanity or any number of other things that could detract from this relationship. It was awful, thickly sentimental, so saccharine that Shuusuke had been avoiding it. He'd thought the sweetness had been an act ... maybe it had been, on some level, but the lie of it had been turned inside out.
"I want to protect you," Shuusuke whispered against Bunta's lips, the last traces of mask finally falling away to reveal the utmost truth; what he'd been afraid to say. "I want to keep you close, make sure you don't hurt anymore, make sure nothing else drives you crazy." He laced Bunta's fingers with his own. "I don't want to lose you again."
"And you do but I want to do the same for you, no... We can do that for each-other, keep each-other grounded and safe~. Maybe sane too, you've kept me that way for a while now. <3"
And here was the truth, that Shuu had been looking for underneath the layers, all was said before, time and time again but it seemed different now, not careless after-sex comments but something solid. Glancing down at their laced hands (nearaverysleepybunnny~), he smiled, maybe this was what content felt like, nice fuzzy feeling that Bunta'd have to bottle and market one day (thenthere'llbeworldpeace~).
"You'll never lose me because I'll always be right where you can find me - by your side, darling."
Right here ... Shuusuke didn't hesitate to embrace Bunta, then, wrapping arms around him to hold him close, hardly caring that he still smelled like the kitchen. They could be that for each other, couldn't they? Could and would, Shuusuke hoped. "You mean that," he said, and it wasn't a question. He slid slim fingers into Bunta's hair. "You'll let me go once in a while, won't you? Be strong for me, too, hm?"
Reaching up to return the hug, Bunta laughed at the indignant squeak that came from his lap. "Of course I will, I trust you to come back to me and I'll always be strong for you if you need me too just as I know you will be for me." Pressing another short kiss to Shuu's lips, Bunta pulled back to smile at him, this was certainly something more then it started out to be, sex just like every other relationship to trusting this person with his heart and mind.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some language, minor sexual references, unmitigated fluff
Summary: Following a couple of private entries, Bunta and Shuusuke finally have a talk, coming to a resolution.
A list. Bunta had wanted a list.
Well, Shuusuke would give him a list, then, if that's what he was after, and he'd tape it to the door so Bunta could see it when he left in the morning.
Closing the (internetindisguiseasa~) phone with a soft click, Bunta climbed off the counter, done with work for the day after a final bow to the kitchen manager. Hoping Shuu would be where he left him, Bunta started off for their room, maybe he'd be done with that stupid list when he got back.
And within a few minutes, he was pushing open the door, eyes drifting to Shuu before walking to the bunny (shelovedhimthesamerightnow~).
Of course. Bunta went to the rabbit before Shuusuke. He set down his pen and sighed, swiveling in his desk chair to face him ... her ... whatever. "How was work?" he asked brightly.
Picking up Harley, he set her on the bed before walking over to the wadrobe to change (hatedthefuckingworkclothes, onedaytheywouldBURN~). "Was the same as ever~. Filled with kitchen utensil abuse and the new kid spilling everything. How was your list-making~?"
Shuusuke glanced at the half-made list on the desk. "Well enough," he said, though the more he looked it over, the more pointless it seemed. He didn't want Bunta to be angry with him, any more than he himself wanted to be angry.
The list would no doubt make Bunta angry, even if more than half of it was true -- the skirts, for one, and the pink hair, and a half dozen other not-so-superficial things that hadn't bothered him near as much when Bunta had been physically male. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Why wouldn't I be~?" Buttoning up his skirt after pulling on a shirt (a cheap thing that loudly stated in English - "howmanylickstogettothecentre? FINDOUTHERE."), he walked over and held his hand out for the list, nails painted blue last night in a fit of boredom (was he really that fucking girly? Damn.)
"Because it's hardly an accurate representation of how I see you," Shuusuke admitted. Best to let the mask just drop, then; let the smile fade and the lashes lift.
"But it's how you see me all the same, hmm?" Raising an eyebrow at him, Bunta took the moment to take the list and settle on the bed, wondering if it was too late just to feed the thing to the rabbit now attempting to hop into his lap. "Come here, have to read it with you."
Well, Fuji supposed, he could at least explain himself then. He sat beside Bunta, intimately close as usual, and looked over his own neat handwriting. It was so silly ...
All the things here were things even before he had turned female and clingy? Fragile? Hell, crazy was on the bloody list even though it was crossed out. Baking did not make him a girl, what he wore didn't... Damn it all.
"You are... Why?" I thought you liked me for me.
"You wanted a list," Fuji said flatly. "All you asked was to define what made you girly -- that's all I did. That's all I wrote." He wanted to kiss away the tears that didn't fall; wanted to offer another touch, a hand to comfort.
He hesitated, but covered Bunta's hand with his own. "It's not reasons I don't like you."
"I know..." Still seemed like a list of his faults, Shuu wanted a boyfriend instead he got a girly something that turned into a girlfriend, damnit. Resisting the urge to lean into him, Bunta turned the paper over then handed it back, eyes still holding back tears (how bad was it that he could count the bloody pants he owned on his fingers? He was meant to be male, for fucks sake, that's what Shuu wanted).
"New list, the reasons why you don't like if these aren't it, want help? Start down the faulty brain down, hmm?"
"There's only one," Shuusuke said, quietly and darkly, hoping a lower volume might counteract Bunta's oncoming hysterics. "There's only one," he repeated, and faced Bunta, bracing hands on her shoulders, squaring her to face him.
He wasn't sure if he could let it on, but here he was, his own mask pushed away, dissolved, and he just had to say it, and it would be done. "I don't see you," he enunciated. You don't show me who you really are.
And it did, the voice quickly pulling his attention to Shuu, eyes locking with those rarely seen, pretty blue (but seemingly deadly~). Only one... And the only thing that he couldn't do because he didn't even know that, who the hell that was.
"There's no me like there is you, can't see what isn't there, there's no me~."
"Yes, there is. I've seen it." He trailed his hands down her shoulders, taking both hands in his own. Maybe he'd only seen it once, but it had been enough to draw him to Bunta in the first place.
And maybe he'd been silly to think that he could shower enough affection and attention on this boy, this almost-man two years his senior, that he might get to see something shining and private; that a world might open up to him and him alone. He cupped Bunta's face in his hand. "I know you're there," he insisted, quiet -- too quiet, because he knew he was guilty of the same crime himself.
"I've given you everything though, there's nothing left..." Squeezing the hands now holding his own, he showed the frustration that was gnawing on him now. What did Shuu want, just for him to act seripously for once? Was that all there was to it? Shuu always seemed that way underneath it all but that wasn't what Bunta was... Or what it meant to be how he was?
Had he? Shuusuke knew that Bunta wasn't really that vapid, couldn't be so shallow as to have already let on everything that he was made of. "Peel back the layers," Shuusuke murmured.
So fucking useless, there wasn't any more, just worries and fears and everything else that made up a human, what was normal and boring and so useless, why bother with it? Beyond that, there was nothing more, just sparkles then serious then angst, all called layers and that was all there was. "What you see if what you get~."
Shuusuke kept his voice low and still and quiet and honest, like a lake without wind, scarcely a ripple across the surface and clear enough to see to the very bottom of the depths. He tilted Bunta's chin up, then, meeting his eyes (his, yes, though at this point Bunta wasn't really either gender, just a person), probing the violet to determine every last shade of plum and lilac and indigo that lie hidden in those irises. "Then tell me what I'm looking at," he said.
Staring back, he thought a moment, Shuu's voice lulling him into thinking before he replied "Me~, Marui Bunta, illusionist by day, your's by night. Kenta's older brother, living failure~. Entertainment guaranteed and all of those good things~. Mmm, willing sex-slave and... Someone who hates genders, labels, what-the-fuck-have-you. I'm everything and nothing then, is that what you wanted?"
"Not a failure." He'd gotten far enough to let himself touch him more, and pressed a long kiss to Bunta's cheek, in the hopes that it might coax a more positive response from him. "Artist," he supplied, "mutant, thinker, philosopher." He spared a pat for Harley, curled in Bunta's lap. "Animal lover." And then, meeting his eyes again. "My lover." But while all the labels applied, not a single one -- hell, not all of them combined -- did well enough to sum up Marui Bunta.
Shuusuke knew this; it was likely Bunta knew this as well. "Don't tell me," he said after a long moment, breath heavy behind his words. "Show me."
"Yours~." Shuu was sweet, he was all of those things as well, softly smiling in return, Bunta tilted his head up, doing just that, showing~. By kissing, slow and sweet and submissive, not biting or messy like he liked, hard and fast just another layer, seemingly. One that was pushed aside for now, no matter how enjoyable it seemed. Pulling back, he added to the list of what he was. "Loved, thankful and yours, always~... No matter what Harley thinks." Couldn't resist, darn it.
Loved ...
... that was it, wasn't it? That was the missing element that Shuusuke had been hard-pressed to name, and he'd been too quick to blame lack of sex or presence of insanity or any number of other things that could detract from this relationship. It was awful, thickly sentimental, so saccharine that Shuusuke had been avoiding it. He'd thought the sweetness had been an act ... maybe it had been, on some level, but the lie of it had been turned inside out.
"I want to protect you," Shuusuke whispered against Bunta's lips, the last traces of mask finally falling away to reveal the utmost truth; what he'd been afraid to say. "I want to keep you close, make sure you don't hurt anymore, make sure nothing else drives you crazy." He laced Bunta's fingers with his own. "I don't want to lose you again."
"And you do but I want to do the same for you, no... We can do that for each-other, keep each-other grounded and safe~. Maybe sane too, you've kept me that way for a while now. <3"
And here was the truth, that Shuu had been looking for underneath the layers, all was said before, time and time again but it seemed different now, not careless after-sex comments but something solid. Glancing down at their laced hands (nearaverysleepybunnny~), he smiled, maybe this was what content felt like, nice fuzzy feeling that Bunta'd have to bottle and market one day (thenthere'llbeworldpeace~).
"You'll never lose me because I'll always be right where you can find me - by your side, darling."
Right here ... Shuusuke didn't hesitate to embrace Bunta, then, wrapping arms around him to hold him close, hardly caring that he still smelled like the kitchen. They could be that for each other, couldn't they? Could and would, Shuusuke hoped. "You mean that," he said, and it wasn't a question. He slid slim fingers into Bunta's hair. "You'll let me go once in a while, won't you? Be strong for me, too, hm?"
Reaching up to return the hug, Bunta laughed at the indignant squeak that came from his lap. "Of course I will, I trust you to come back to me and I'll always be strong for you if you need me too just as I know you will be for me." Pressing another short kiss to Shuu's lips, Bunta pulled back to smile at him, this was certainly something more then it started out to be, sex just like every other relationship to trusting this person with his heart and mind.
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Date: 2006-02-08 03:47 am (UTC)Oh, sorry. I was choking on a giant ball of fluff.
But that was super-cute.....squeee~ BUNTA SHOULD BE A GIRL FOREVAR