Ship: Heath/Tomoe & Kyousuke Fandom: Prince of Stride Major Tags: tags omitted Other Tags: tags omitted Word Count: 553 words
Creeeeepy. Because I’m bad at anything else. Unhealthy relationships, dependency, exploitation.
***
Heath doesn’t run anymore. He barely even walks.
The shoes that Tomoe keeps putting him in are impossible to Stride in and only just possible to walk in.
Photographers love them, magazines love them, outlets love them and stars love them. Nobody ever comments on how the people that wear them are always posed with someone at their side to lean on, someone who can steady them and hold them up.
The people that wear them are all people who understand a price tag comes with everything and true luxuries cost more than money.
Love, for example, is bought by Heath practicing for hours in crystal sneakers until he can lift his legs gracefully and glide without clunking his feet down in a way that’ll look unattractive to the photographers that’ll be in the front rows of the fashion shows. There is no give in the crystal, no support, but they have been fashioned to fit his feet so perfectly that his feet don’t slide around inside.
There’s an invisible seam down the back, hidden amidst the sparkling diamond cuts of the crystal, where the sneakers are superglued shut and then the glue is melted off by nailpolish remover. Heath learns how to do it on his own so he can walk around the house in the crystal sneakers while Tomoe sleeps.
He can’t practice until his feet bleed. He can’t develop callouses. The crystal has an odd magnifying-capturing effect, distorting the pieces of Heath’s feet so that the shoes look shot through with slices of pink.
Tomoe cups Heath’s crystal-sneaker-clad foot in his hand and wonders out loud about applying some nail polish, something blue and pale to counterbalance Heath’s skin.
Heath smiles shakily down at him and concentrates on balancing on only one foot, on not screaming with pain.
*
“There’s something wrong with you lately,” Kyousuke says and takes Heath’s hand in his. “This isn’t how a relationship is supposed to be.”
Heath smiles at him but doesn’t hear. His feet are throbbing and the fountain across from the cafe looks so tempting. He could bathe his feet in its waters for just a little. If anyone catches him, it’ll make for a good photo - Heath relaxed in public, the edges of his trousers wet, his red stilettoes on the edge of the fountain. Tomoe’ll like it.
“Heath? Are you even listening to me?”
“Why don’t we have our meal at the fountain?” Heath asks, looking back at Kyousuke. “It’s such a nice day. Let’s ask for everything to go.”
*
The photos are of him and Kyousuke, laughing together and talking, seated on the edge of the fountain with Kyousuke and Heath’s trousers rolled up so they can both bathe their feet in the water.
The tabloids run it under titles like ‘AN END TO THE PERFECT COUPLE?’ and ‘FRIENDS OR MORE?’.
Tomoe says nothing but Heath knows he’s angry.
*
At the next shoe, one of the crystal sneakers shatter. Shards dig into Heath’s foot, into his ankle; he raises up onto his toes to keep his gait even and walks on, gaze fixed on Tomoe and blood smearing over the runway.
Blood always take the front pages; if the publicity from this makes Tomoe forgive him, then Heath will count every scar and every drop of blood as worthy sacrifices.
FILL: Team The Prince of Tennis, M
Fandom: Prince of Stride
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 553 words
Creeeeepy. Because I’m bad at anything else. Unhealthy relationships, dependency, exploitation.
***
Heath doesn’t run anymore. He barely even walks.
The shoes that Tomoe keeps putting him in are impossible to Stride in and only just possible to walk in.
Photographers love them, magazines love them, outlets love them and stars love them. Nobody ever comments on how the people that wear them are always posed with someone at their side to lean on, someone who can steady them and hold them up.
The people that wear them are all people who understand a price tag comes with everything and true luxuries cost more than money.
Love, for example, is bought by Heath practicing for hours in crystal sneakers until he can lift his legs gracefully and glide without clunking his feet down in a way that’ll look unattractive to the photographers that’ll be in the front rows of the fashion shows. There is no give in the crystal, no support, but they have been fashioned to fit his feet so perfectly that his feet don’t slide around inside.
There’s an invisible seam down the back, hidden amidst the sparkling diamond cuts of the crystal, where the sneakers are superglued shut and then the glue is melted off by nailpolish remover. Heath learns how to do it on his own so he can walk around the house in the crystal sneakers while Tomoe sleeps.
He can’t practice until his feet bleed. He can’t develop callouses. The crystal has an odd magnifying-capturing effect, distorting the pieces of Heath’s feet so that the shoes look shot through with slices of pink.
Tomoe cups Heath’s crystal-sneaker-clad foot in his hand and wonders out loud about applying some nail polish, something blue and pale to counterbalance Heath’s skin.
Heath smiles shakily down at him and concentrates on balancing on only one foot, on not screaming with pain.
*
“There’s something wrong with you lately,” Kyousuke says and takes Heath’s hand in his. “This isn’t how a relationship is supposed to be.”
Heath smiles at him but doesn’t hear. His feet are throbbing and the fountain across from the cafe looks so tempting. He could bathe his feet in its waters for just a little. If anyone catches him, it’ll make for a good photo - Heath relaxed in public, the edges of his trousers wet, his red stilettoes on the edge of the fountain. Tomoe’ll like it.
“Heath? Are you even listening to me?”
“Why don’t we have our meal at the fountain?” Heath asks, looking back at Kyousuke. “It’s such a nice day. Let’s ask for everything to go.”
*
The photos are of him and Kyousuke, laughing together and talking, seated on the edge of the fountain with Kyousuke and Heath’s trousers rolled up so they can both bathe their feet in the water.
The tabloids run it under titles like ‘AN END TO THE PERFECT COUPLE?’ and ‘FRIENDS OR MORE?’.
Tomoe says nothing but Heath knows he’s angry.
*
At the next shoe, one of the crystal sneakers shatter. Shards dig into Heath’s foot, into his ankle; he raises up onto his toes to keep his gait even and walks on, gaze fixed on Tomoe and blood smearing over the runway.
Blood always take the front pages; if the publicity from this makes Tomoe forgive him, then Heath will count every scar and every drop of blood as worthy sacrifices.