Ship: Kuga Kyousuke/Serizawa Nao Fandom: Free!, Prince of Stride Major Tags: none Other Tags: none Original Work:link by themorninglark Word Count: 430
ah yes, more rarepairs and crossover ships, just what i needed (:3/ me @ me: why are you like this
***
There are nights when the wind calls to him, when he grabs his jacket and starts the bike, bends low over it as he rides to nowhere, rides to feel the wind sing and scream at him.
These are not nights for calm, for contemplation. They are nights for feeling, raw and open and endless, a sharp reminder he’s still alive, he’s still breathing.
He thinks Nao understands, with all his soft smiles and unassuming demeanour, cups of tea and textbooks piled high. He listens to the things Kyousuke doesn’t say, reads in between the lines and never asks for more than Kyousuke is willing to offer up. He also knows something of quiet losses, concessions and giving up things you love. It’s why Kyousuke offers sometimes, lets Nao come along with him on these nights.
Kyousuke is no strange to letting someone ride pillion, from days when he used to let Heath, and sometimes Tomoe ride with him. Tomoe usually preferred to run, and Kyousuke wants to pretend that the thought of Tomoe doesn’t still hurt sometimes, like a slowly healing wound. Their friendship is a gradual recovery, hesitant and careful in a way that Tomoe is usually not. But Kyousuke knows sometimes it is better to wait for the wind, and to let it propel you forward where you are normally afraid to go.
They zip past lights and through tunnels, until they can see Tokyo Bay, stretched out in twinkling lights and dark waters. Nao’s arms are tight around his waist, warm against his back and Kyousuke thinks that the rides feel different on the nights Nao comes with him. It is still screaming singing, rushing through his veins. But it is also a feeling of understanding, of not being alone in this, in a desperation to feel like he’s living.
He drives, bending low as they pick up speed.
They pull into the driveway a couple of hours later, the sky faintly lighter with the promise of a clear, cloudless day. Nao heads up to their apartment while Kyousuke wheels his bike into the storage area, pulling its cover over it.
There’s coffee waiting on the kitchen counter when he gets upstairs, freshly brewed and with just the right amount of milk. Nao’s sipping his own cup at their dining table, offers a smile when Kyousuke walks in and hangs up his jacket. He takes it and joins Nao, who looks surprisingly chipper for someone who will have classes all day despite being up half the night.
FILL: TEAM Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi, T
Fandom: Free!, Prince of Stride
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none
Original Work: link by
Word Count: 430
ah yes, more rarepairs and crossover ships, just what i needed (:3/
me @ me: why are you like this
***
There are nights when the wind calls to him, when he grabs his jacket and starts the bike, bends low over it as he rides to nowhere, rides to feel the wind sing and scream at him.
These are not nights for calm, for contemplation. They are nights for feeling, raw and open and endless, a sharp reminder he’s still alive, he’s still breathing.
He thinks Nao understands, with all his soft smiles and unassuming demeanour, cups of tea and textbooks piled high. He listens to the things Kyousuke doesn’t say, reads in between the lines and never asks for more than Kyousuke is willing to offer up. He also knows something of quiet losses, concessions and giving up things you love. It’s why Kyousuke offers sometimes, lets Nao come along with him on these nights.
Kyousuke is no strange to letting someone ride pillion, from days when he used to let Heath, and sometimes Tomoe ride with him. Tomoe usually preferred to run, and Kyousuke wants to pretend that the thought of Tomoe doesn’t still hurt sometimes, like a slowly healing wound. Their friendship is a gradual recovery, hesitant and careful in a way that Tomoe is usually not. But Kyousuke knows sometimes it is better to wait for the wind, and to let it propel you forward where you are normally afraid to go.
They zip past lights and through tunnels, until they can see Tokyo Bay, stretched out in twinkling lights and dark waters. Nao’s arms are tight around his waist, warm against his back and Kyousuke thinks that the rides feel different on the nights Nao comes with him. It is still screaming singing, rushing through his veins. But it is also a feeling of understanding, of not being alone in this, in a desperation to feel like he’s living.
He drives, bending low as they pick up speed.
They pull into the driveway a couple of hours later, the sky faintly lighter with the promise of a clear, cloudless day. Nao heads up to their apartment while Kyousuke wheels his bike into the storage area, pulling its cover over it.
There’s coffee waiting on the kitchen counter when he gets upstairs, freshly brewed and with just the right amount of milk. Nao’s sipping his own cup at their dining table, offers a smile when Kyousuke walks in and hangs up his jacket. He takes it and joins Nao, who looks surprisingly chipper for someone who will have classes all day despite being up half the night.
But this is one way of being alive too.