Ship: takigawa chris yuu/zaizen naoyuki Fandom: daiya no ace Major Tags: none Other Tags: none Original Work:link by clearlykero Word Count: 440
bless u k, i love this au
***
"sure you're not just getting old, takigawa?" naoyuki says, from where he's doing his warm up stretches on the floor, because it's always takigawa when he's trying to make a point, the curl of his lip as theatrical as the expressive line of his body when he dances. chris has spent enough time looking at both to see the relationship.
"oh, don't worry about me," chris says, leg up on the barre, watching naoyuki's movements in the studio mirrors. it's the most still he ever gets, outside of being on stage, holding an arabesque or standing on his mark, the moment of calm before he starts to dance. naoyuki's been called an 'explosive dancer' for the power in his legs but chris figures it suits him all around. chris's dancing is clean and powerful; naoyuki's is almost wild, something raw and primal in his every move. it's a magnetism that's served him well, gotten him roles that might otherwise have been chris's. chris should resent it, but he can never quite manage.
"who would worry about you," naoyuki says, and chris laughs instead of pointing out the contradiction. naoyuki's got his face on the floor now but the tips of his ears are red and chris counts it as a win.
*
after rehearsal, they go to dinner. naoyuki's a little quieter, restless energy poured out into six hours of choreography refinement and a series of leaps and jumps passed between the two of them five times, each pass more difficult and ridiculous than the last before the director put a halt to their oneupmanship. chris got the last turn, so he supposes that's a win too. naoyuki seems to have forgotten or at least written it off as outside interference, letting chris drape an arm around his shoulders during the walk to the soba shop on the corner, grumbling into the scarf chris wrapped around his neck before they left the studio.
chris stops them a block before the restaurant, kissing the complaint out of naoyuki's startled mouth in the dim space between two streetlamps.
"what was that for," naoyuki says, once chris pulls away, habitual furrow between his eyebrows trying very hard to look annoyed rather than confused.
"i wanted to," chris says, as if he hasn't been thinking about it since they got to the studio, the day too crowded by costume fittings and make up tests and class for a moment alone.
"well, obviously," naoyuki says, straightening his shoulders and chris kisses him again.
"come on, nao," he says because he's allowed to use nao when it's just the two of them like this. "dinner's on me."
FILL: team kominato ryousuke/kuramochi youichi, G
Fandom: daiya no ace
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none
Original Work: link by
Word Count: 440
bless u k, i love this au
***
"sure you're not just getting old, takigawa?" naoyuki says, from where he's doing his warm up stretches on the floor, because it's always takigawa when he's trying to make a point, the curl of his lip as theatrical as the expressive line of his body when he dances. chris has spent enough time looking at both to see the relationship.
"oh, don't worry about me," chris says, leg up on the barre, watching naoyuki's movements in the studio mirrors. it's the most still he ever gets, outside of being on stage, holding an arabesque or standing on his mark, the moment of calm before he starts to dance. naoyuki's been called an 'explosive dancer' for the power in his legs but chris figures it suits him all around. chris's dancing is clean and powerful; naoyuki's is almost wild, something raw and primal in his every move. it's a magnetism that's served him well, gotten him roles that might otherwise have been chris's. chris should resent it, but he can never quite manage.
"who would worry about you," naoyuki says, and chris laughs instead of pointing out the contradiction. naoyuki's got his face on the floor now but the tips of his ears are red and chris counts it as a win.
*
after rehearsal, they go to dinner. naoyuki's a little quieter, restless energy poured out into six hours of choreography refinement and a series of leaps and jumps passed between the two of them five times, each pass more difficult and ridiculous than the last before the director put a halt to their oneupmanship. chris got the last turn, so he supposes that's a win too. naoyuki seems to have forgotten or at least written it off as outside interference, letting chris drape an arm around his shoulders during the walk to the soba shop on the corner, grumbling into the scarf chris wrapped around his neck before they left the studio.
chris stops them a block before the restaurant, kissing the complaint out of naoyuki's startled mouth in the dim space between two streetlamps.
"what was that for," naoyuki says, once chris pulls away, habitual furrow between his eyebrows trying very hard to look annoyed rather than confused.
"i wanted to," chris says, as if he hasn't been thinking about it since they got to the studio, the day too crowded by costume fittings and make up tests and class for a moment alone.
"well, obviously," naoyuki says, straightening his shoulders and chris kisses him again.
"come on, nao," he says because he's allowed to use nao when it's just the two of them like this. "dinner's on me."