Title: In Paris with You Fandom/original: JE Characters: Akanishi Jin/Yamashita Tomohisa Rating: G Word count: 326 Notes: Title taken from a poem by James Fenton of the same name (http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1142.html) - 'I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded' is a line from that poem, hence this piece.
"I don't wanna go," Jin whines, and you feel yourself crumbling.
"But it's Paris. We can't not go. What'll you say to the others when you get back? 'Oh yeah, I went to Paris but I didn't visit the Louvre, the Sacre Coeur or the Notre Dame. Didn't even walk down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. What's that, Koki? What did I do instead? Well, I spent the entire three days in the hotel with my best friend.' Yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious at all."
"Oh, shut up," Jin says, rolling over on the bed. The sheets tangle and wrap around his slender waist as he reaches over towards the bedside cabinet for the pack of cigarettes that lies there. With a groan, he disentangles himself from the sheets, pulls on his pyjama pants and goes out onto the balcony. Lighting up, he leans back in through the open doors and beckons you. With a (faked) despairing sigh, you willingly follow.
"So what are you going to say to them when you get back?" you ask, leaning on the balcony and watching the smoke whisper out from between parted lips. You envy the smoke for a brief, ridiculous second, before you remember that you've probably kissed his lips more times than he's had cigarettes, and while he may be addicted to smoking, you're pretty sure he's addicted to you, too.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Hooked up with a few hot Parisian chicks, went out clubbing... I'll say that the shops in Tokyo are better than the ones in Paris, and then I'll probably tell them that you lost money in the casinos. They'll believe that, easy."
"You're a dirty liar, Akanishi," you scold him, but your words are not harsh. He flicks the butt of his cigarette into the street below, where early-morning pedestrians are beginning to throng the pavement.
"Come back to bed, Pi," he says, and, as always, you're only too happy to oblige.
no subject
Fandom/original: JE
Characters: Akanishi Jin/Yamashita Tomohisa
Rating: G
Word count: 326
Notes: Title taken from a poem by James Fenton of the same name (http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1142.html) - 'I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded' is a line from that poem, hence this piece.
"I don't wanna go," Jin whines, and you feel yourself crumbling.
"But it's Paris. We can't not go. What'll you say to the others when you get back? 'Oh yeah, I went to Paris but I didn't visit the Louvre, the Sacre Coeur or the Notre Dame. Didn't even walk down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. What's that, Koki? What did I do instead? Well, I spent the entire three days in the hotel with my best friend.' Yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious at all."
"Oh, shut up," Jin says, rolling over on the bed. The sheets tangle and wrap around his slender waist as he reaches over towards the bedside cabinet for the pack of cigarettes that lies there. With a groan, he disentangles himself from the sheets, pulls on his pyjama pants and goes out onto the balcony. Lighting up, he leans back in through the open doors and beckons you. With a (faked) despairing sigh, you willingly follow.
"So what are you going to say to them when you get back?" you ask, leaning on the balcony and watching the smoke whisper out from between parted lips. You envy the smoke for a brief, ridiculous second, before you remember that you've probably kissed his lips more times than he's had cigarettes, and while he may be addicted to smoking, you're pretty sure he's addicted to you, too.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Hooked up with a few hot Parisian chicks, went out clubbing... I'll say that the shops in Tokyo are better than the ones in Paris, and then I'll probably tell them that you lost money in the casinos. They'll believe that, easy."
"You're a dirty liar, Akanishi," you scold him, but your words are not harsh. He flicks the butt of his cigarette into the street below, where early-morning pedestrians are beginning to throng the pavement.
"Come back to bed, Pi," he says, and, as always, you're only too happy to oblige.