[hina/kame] sports fan(atic)
Dec. 22nd, 2011 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
songbirdspeaksTitle: Sports Fan(attic)
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates
Characters: Murakami Shingo, Kamenashi Kazuya
Pairings: Murakami Shingo/Kamenashi Kazuya
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: Established relationship, UNAPOLOGETIC FLUFFINESS
Summary: Kame tries to keep his sports-related sob-fests relegated to the privacy of his living room. Hina has absolutely no issues sharing his tears, and that's probably the reason Kame likes him so much.
Notes: If you're useless re: soccer, like I am, the soccer season generally runs August-April. Baseball runs April-October, usually.
I DON'T KNOW WHY I WROTE THIS I MEANT TO WRITE HINA/ERIKA AND I GOT THIS INSTEAD. Don't judge me. ):
See, the thing about dating a sports fanatic during their season is that they tend to have emotional breakdowns. Kamenashi is perfectly aware of this, of course, as a sport fanatic himself--he's had three break ups during the high point of baseball season--but during the off-months for baseball, Murakami's team-stalking is reaching its highest pillar. The difference between him and Murakami, though, is that even though he'll shed a tear or two at a championship loss (in the sanctity of his own apartment, curled up on his couch with a baseball-shaped pillow to hold onto) Murakami doesn't care what people think of him if he feels he needs to wail, loudly, about the results of a match. Even if they're in the car or, most memorably, at a restaurant.
"Stop… stop crying, we're in public--Shingo--" Kame knows how Murakami feels, really, when the Yankees lost the World Series in 2010 he had random crying jags for weeks, but he made sure not to do it in a booth at a family restaurant (Murakami's favorite, and it's a symbol of how much he adores Murakami that he's here in the first place, really) where people could see.
"Sorry," Murakami says, taking a deep breath, "but… but Kobe!" And then he's sniffling again and Kame's not sure what he's supposed to do for that besides haul him in for a hug. Murakami's hands find his waist and he buries his snotting in Kame's shoulder, and even though Kame's pretty sure he's going to be sending this shirt to the dry cleaners and bothering Murakami for the bill (which he'll eventually let go when Murakami brings him dinner and the Snuggie Kame habitually refuses to take home with him because he can just smell the bad taste coming off of it on a late night working, on one of those nights when he shows up on Murakami's doorstep just looking for someone to understand that sleeping is simply not an option if he doesn't have a week to pass out) he remembers the way Murakami had silently carded fond fingers through his hair when he'd snuggled close after the World Series instead of telling him to suck it up the Yankees had won like ten billion times Kamenashi (that particular honor fell to Ninomiya, who'd run the office pool and was pocketing a large portion of the pot this year, the asshole).
"Do you understand what this loss means?" Murakami asks on the way home, and Kame is really trying to understand, honestly he was, but they'd agreed ages ago that they didn't have to be interested in each other's sports, just respectful, and Murakami's ass in his jeans looks awesome.
"Something bad," Kame offers, distracted.
"Something very bad," Murakami corrects him, and then they're at the car.
Kame watches Murakami toss his bag in the back seat, bent slightly forward at the waist, which is really just unfair. So Kame reaches out, curling his finger at Murakami's hip and interrupting his rambling explanation on loan players and injureies, and turning him so the two of them are nestled against the frame of Murakami's car. Murakami runs his fingers over Kame's bangs.
"Not here," they both say, and it's funny because it's in unison, like it is every time. Kame drives--he likes knowing Murakami will let him touch the car and not worry over every swerve--but lets Murakami pick the songs.
"Why the hell are you playing this," he grumbles, when KAT-TUN's album comes on, and Hina blinks at him, honestly surprised.
"Why wouldn't I? Is it a problem I want to listen to my boyfriend's album?"
"Your boyfriend's group's album," Kame corrects him mildly, and Murakami's shrug means as much 'oh right' as it does 'I don't give two shits about anybody but you', and it makes him feel warm to his fingertips.
"So explain what Kobe needs to do to pick the season back up," Kame says, at a light, and smiles because Murakami lights up like a damn Christmas tree.
Hey, Murakami knows the best way to break in a glove because of Kame, he should at least learn a little something every now and then.
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates
Characters: Murakami Shingo, Kamenashi Kazuya
Pairings: Murakami Shingo/Kamenashi Kazuya
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: Established relationship, UNAPOLOGETIC FLUFFINESS
Summary: Kame tries to keep his sports-related sob-fests relegated to the privacy of his living room. Hina has absolutely no issues sharing his tears, and that's probably the reason Kame likes him so much.
Notes: If you're useless re: soccer, like I am, the soccer season generally runs August-April. Baseball runs April-October, usually.
I DON'T KNOW WHY I WROTE THIS I MEANT TO WRITE HINA/ERIKA AND I GOT THIS INSTEAD. Don't judge me. ):
See, the thing about dating a sports fanatic during their season is that they tend to have emotional breakdowns. Kamenashi is perfectly aware of this, of course, as a sport fanatic himself--he's had three break ups during the high point of baseball season--but during the off-months for baseball, Murakami's team-stalking is reaching its highest pillar. The difference between him and Murakami, though, is that even though he'll shed a tear or two at a championship loss (in the sanctity of his own apartment, curled up on his couch with a baseball-shaped pillow to hold onto) Murakami doesn't care what people think of him if he feels he needs to wail, loudly, about the results of a match. Even if they're in the car or, most memorably, at a restaurant.
"Stop… stop crying, we're in public--Shingo--" Kame knows how Murakami feels, really, when the Yankees lost the World Series in 2010 he had random crying jags for weeks, but he made sure not to do it in a booth at a family restaurant (Murakami's favorite, and it's a symbol of how much he adores Murakami that he's here in the first place, really) where people could see.
"Sorry," Murakami says, taking a deep breath, "but… but Kobe!" And then he's sniffling again and Kame's not sure what he's supposed to do for that besides haul him in for a hug. Murakami's hands find his waist and he buries his snotting in Kame's shoulder, and even though Kame's pretty sure he's going to be sending this shirt to the dry cleaners and bothering Murakami for the bill (which he'll eventually let go when Murakami brings him dinner and the Snuggie Kame habitually refuses to take home with him because he can just smell the bad taste coming off of it on a late night working, on one of those nights when he shows up on Murakami's doorstep just looking for someone to understand that sleeping is simply not an option if he doesn't have a week to pass out) he remembers the way Murakami had silently carded fond fingers through his hair when he'd snuggled close after the World Series instead of telling him to suck it up the Yankees had won like ten billion times Kamenashi (that particular honor fell to Ninomiya, who'd run the office pool and was pocketing a large portion of the pot this year, the asshole).
"Do you understand what this loss means?" Murakami asks on the way home, and Kame is really trying to understand, honestly he was, but they'd agreed ages ago that they didn't have to be interested in each other's sports, just respectful, and Murakami's ass in his jeans looks awesome.
"Something bad," Kame offers, distracted.
"Something very bad," Murakami corrects him, and then they're at the car.
Kame watches Murakami toss his bag in the back seat, bent slightly forward at the waist, which is really just unfair. So Kame reaches out, curling his finger at Murakami's hip and interrupting his rambling explanation on loan players and injureies, and turning him so the two of them are nestled against the frame of Murakami's car. Murakami runs his fingers over Kame's bangs.
"Not here," they both say, and it's funny because it's in unison, like it is every time. Kame drives--he likes knowing Murakami will let him touch the car and not worry over every swerve--but lets Murakami pick the songs.
"Why the hell are you playing this," he grumbles, when KAT-TUN's album comes on, and Hina blinks at him, honestly surprised.
"Why wouldn't I? Is it a problem I want to listen to my boyfriend's album?"
"Your boyfriend's group's album," Kame corrects him mildly, and Murakami's shrug means as much 'oh right' as it does 'I don't give two shits about anybody but you', and it makes him feel warm to his fingertips.
"So explain what Kobe needs to do to pick the season back up," Kame says, at a light, and smiles because Murakami lights up like a damn Christmas tree.
Hey, Murakami knows the best way to break in a glove because of Kame, he should at least learn a little something every now and then.
