Another drabble that didn't end up that way. 2,500 FUCKING WORDS. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT. HOW. Believe me, it started off a drabble. But anyway, I wrote this because there are so little KinRyo fics out there! I really found none! I also have a lot of KinRyo art (I don't know where I got it from though) on my laptop and looking at it makes me want to write them.
Title: The Big Picture
Disclaimer: Not mineeeee but Konomi Takeshi's.
When Kintarou is 21, Ryoma is still 20 and it’s been a long time since they were the same height.
Despite being 2 full inches shorter than him, as well as being younger by almost 8 whole months, Kintarou feels like Ryoma is older than him by years.
And it’s unfair, he thinks, that Ryoma can be so cool about everything, that he’s never shocked and he can do things much easier than Kintarou.
Like two weeks before, when they had an essay due in History, Kintarou thought it would be fine to put it off until two nights before because Ryoma did too.
Except, he didn’t think that Ryoma would be able to finish the essay in just 3 and a half hours when he hadn’t even finished a page. The essay was twenty-five percent of their grade- 10 pages, size 12 Font.
Kintarou flops back on the squashy green couch of the University dorm room he shares with Ryoma. It really is unfair, he thinks, the way Ryoma gets to be like that.
When Ryoma comes back forty-five minutes later, he opens the door quietly in a way that Kintarou doesn’t notice he’s back until he sees the dark emerald strands of his beautiful roommate turning the corner into the kitchen.
Ryoma’s hair has small beads of water in it and his skin is covered with droplets- he wonders if Ryoma is planning to look so perfect.
He is carrying groceries- and Kintarou realizes that their refrigerator is bare except for three cans of a sugary soda. But the soda isn’t Grape.
Ryoma cooks the ramen they eat for dinner- once Kintarou tried to make dinner when Ryoma wasn’t home yet. Their dorm building had to be evacuated for 6 days.
But at least Ryoma’s noodles are firm and but not hard and the broth is flavorful. Kintarou starts to notice that Ryoma is always simple and elegant.
Kintarou thinks that one of the best things on their Campus is the baths, because they’re always steaming hot and you can look up at the sky and see all the stars without all the light pollution. It reminds him of an Onsen.
What he doesn’t like is that he and Ryoma live on the third floor and have to go down six flights of stairs to get to the bath.
He wants to hurry and get clean so he can relax in the warmth of the water, so he goes down the steep flights as fast as he can. What he doesn’t realize is that running leads to falling and that’s why he’s now in life-debt to Ryoma, because even though Ryoma’s arms are thin and graceful he can somehow catch Kintarou.
Kintarou doesn’t know why, but he’s been realizing a lot of thinks lately.
Things like the way Ryoma bathes as the water slides down his slender and lissome body looks so flawless that it feels impossible to reach.
Things like the way Ryoma’s words are quiet but still have something in them that makes Kintarou listen; somehow it seems like he can’t ever seem to get enough of hearing Ryoma’s voice.
Things like how Ryoma’s eyes are bright and impossibly gold but still seem so solemn that Kintarou wants to hold him close and make warmth light up his eyes. And then Kintarou wonders why Ryoma wouldn’t be warm when the water he’s sliding into (gracefully of course) has steam rising off of it.
Ryoma finishes in the small bathroom they share before Kintarou and he falls asleep before Kintarou closes the door.
Kintarou is holding the doorknob and even though it’s late and he has classes tomorrow and he needs to go to bed in five minutes he can’t stop looking at the sleeping boy.
He’s gorgeous in a way that’s hard to describe, a way that isn’t a girly beautiful but Ryoma isn’t really handsome either.
The only word he can really think of is perfect because Ryoma has long eyelashes that are black and they curl. Kintarou wonders that if he looked close enough, Ryoma’s eyelashes would have that velvety black color that gleamed with emerald; the way only Ryoma seemed to have.
His hair falls around his face in a way that is messy but still looks like it belongs in the picture with the strands of soft-looking locks curling upward slightly.
He has a perfectly shaped face and his skin looks a peachy sort-of pale, cream colored maybe. Kintarou thinks it’s strange that Ryoma’s cheeks are a soft pink color like a blush that isn’t really a blush.
Lips are full and plush looking; they’re a dark dusk color. But then Kintarou sees crimson closer to his inner lip and he is stumped at why or when Ryoma has been biting his lips; he’s never seen him do it.
But then Kintarou’s attention is brought to the alarm clock on the stand next to the bed they share and he sees that much more time has past than five minutes. So he closes the door and finishes brushing his teeth in just two. When he slides into the bed on the opposite side of Ryoma he stares at his face once more, and wonders where he would be without Ryoma.
Kintarou blinks blearily; he doesn’t know what has woken him because it’s nowhere near dawn much less time for classes.
He feels long fingers try to dig into the skin of his back, failing due to the bluntness of the nails, ending in the hand wrapping it’s small fists tightly into the cloth of his sleep shirt.
When his vision is less blurry and the world comes into view, his eyes widen slightly as Ryoma comes into view tightly clinging to him. His mind races and he thinks things like how Ryoma was facing opposite him when he fell asleep and how he doesn’t even remember rolling over despite being a light sleeper which is weird, but mostly he thinks about how Ryoma has barely any body heat but somehow being next to him makes Kintarou warmer.
Mostly he thinks about how Ryoma smells clean and fresh, a silky plain white; it’s probably just the cheap bar soap they both use but somehow still smells completely and uniquely Ryoma.
Mostly he thinks about how he’s actually touching Ryoma, he’s coming into contact with him and how he feels much closer even though he seemed so intangible; he feels just like jumping in victory like his younger, more hyper self used to.
But then he realizes that Ryoma’s grip is getting tighter and more desperate and that he’s pulling Kintarou so close it’s like he’s trying to meld them together.
Ryoma’s breathing is heavy, his eyebrows are scrunched, and his oddly pink cheeks have become a red flush.
The smaller boy is shivering and crowding deeper under the blanket.
Suddenly it all makes sense the way Ryoma acted after he came home, the unusually bright eyes, quieter-than-usual demeanor and small tone.
Even with his sleep-induced mind Kintarou can at least tell that something ‘s wrong. But even so, he can’t think of anything that might help this early in the morning when everything is closed and there is no medicine in their room. Once again he feels useless compared to Ryoma. If it were he, Ryoma would definitely be able to think of something. Even though it brings a lump to his throat, he simply thinks that he is not Ryoma. He wraps his larger, longer, more tanned arms around Ryoma’s smaller form and tries, to at least offer some warmth.
When Kintarou wakes up Ryoma’s legs are wrapped around his waist and his arms are clutching around his neck, hands resting near his nape. The grip isn’t as tight as it was before but still close. Ryoma’s breathing isn’t as heavy but still hitched and his cheeks are dark pink.
He presses his forehead against Ryoma’s, checking his temperature. His head has small beads of sweat lacing his hairline, and his heat is higher than Kintarou’s despite being looking better than earlier that morning.
Looking at the clock it’s seven minutes before 9:30…if he hurried he could make it to his class…speaking of that class didn’t he have an exam today…?
He looked back to Ryoma’s supple form, reddish pink face and the drops that slid over the contours of his cheek.
Back at the clock, six minutes…if he hurried…
A small finger lifted from the rest of Ryoma’s hand, slowly fingering a tress of orangey-cerise.
He stared at Ryoma’s comely face.
…Screw classes, he’s taking care of Ryoma.
While he Ryoma slept Kintarou devoted all his attention to the ill boy.
He changed the wet cloth.
He woke him up long enough to give him medicine.
He adjusted his blankets.
Kintarou leaned back in the chair he put out beside the bed. He probably could have gone to class and Ryoma would be just fine!
He laughed a little, leaning closer and resting his head on the spot on the bed next to Ryoma’s chin.
Oh well, he thought, he could probably spend the whole day just looking at Ryoma’s face and he’d be content.
Sleepy Gold eyes opened slightly, gaining Kintarou’s attention.
Ryoma sat up leaning on his elbows, he looked over at Kintarou, eyes dazed and hazy.
Kintarou sat up as well, with a tiny smile as he looked at a rare muddled Ryoma, since whenever Ryoma usually woke up it was after Kintarou.
Despite being awake Ryoma still had a slight fever and his eyes were still a little glazed.
He mumbled something that sounded like ‘hungry’ before slumping back onto the pillow, eyelids droopy.
Kintarou just stared at Ryoma. Stared…and stared…and STARED.
Shit, he’d totally forgotten about food. He wondered how on Earth he was going to get Ryoma food, much less food right for a sick person.
Sighing, Kintarou meandered his way into the small kitchen, one cupboard, a small stove, a counter top, a fridge and a small microwave he and Ryoma bought with money they saved up.
He steered clear of the stove, making a beeline for the Refrigerator.
Searching through the items in the fridge he tried to find something he could use. A few Carrots, lettuce…Onions…Basil…Strawberries… a pack of bacon, some eggs…a small bowl of leftovers…two packs of Grape-flavored soda, milk…
Was any of it good food for a sick person?
Maybe the leftover Ramen…he thought, because soup is good for sick people right? And Ryoma did make the broth so…that should be better…maybe…
He breathed heavily in defeat and microwaved the bowl. At least he did better with it than the stove.
When it beeped he took it out, at least it didn’t look burnt. His head drooped and he was struck for the nth time with the same helpless feeling.
He carried the bowl to the bedside handing it to the slumped Ryoma who looked ready to fall asleep once again.
Kintarou propped the sick boy up against a pillow and put the bowl in his lap and handed him the spoon. Ryoma’s face remained blank like he was still half dreaming. Which he probably was, but it was sort of amusing to see the glazed state of his calm roommate.
Ryoma dropped the spoon without even moving his hand, his hand followed to numbly feel out for it and Kintarou held back a laugh.
Except it didn’t work.
He couldn’t help it, he thought as he giggled freely. It was simply too strange to see the Ryoma that was always so faraway and vacant be so clumsy and lazy and so…cute.
Given, it was probably normal when he was younger but the older version of Ryoma was too alert and too distant from the people around him. Kintarou was one of the closest to him and even he felt detached from the always-picturesque Ryoma.
Then the other boy cleared his throat stopping Kintarou’s chuckles. Ryoma was clearly much more awake now as he had a frown on his face, which so resembled a pout, that Kintarou had to stop himself from giggling again. He felt bad that it was even more adorable because of the red flush from the fever.
He sat down on the chair as Ryoma turned his head away sulking at being laughed at. Well he probably would deny that but it was still sulking.
“Come on, eat, you’re sick.” He said to the boy on the bed, still grinning.
“Tch.” The other remained adamant, still mad with him.
“Eat Ryoma, or you won’t get better.” Kintarou, even though he was being ignored, couldn’t help but be happy that he felt somehow closer his ever calm roommate.
Reluctantly, Ryoma picked up the spoon and started to eat, Kintarou smiled as he watched.
By the time Ryoma finished the bowl it was mid-afternoon. He laid back down on the pillows, and he looked better, Kintarou thought; the color was back in his face.
He leaned down pressing his forehead against Ryoma’s. The younger boy squirmed a little and his cheeks colored slightly, although barely noticeable.
“What are you doing…?” He asked, voice soft.
“Just checking your temperature…” He replied smiling.
Then he whistled softly, Ryoma’s temperature was almost totally normal if only a little but warm.
“Gee, you sure recover fast, huh, ko-shi-mae~” He muttered.
“Hn.” The other shrugged non-committal.
They were silent for a while before Ryoma moved back, to the side where Kintarou usually slept.
“Come.” He gestured lazily for him to climb into the bed.
He shrugged and slipped under the warm comforter; almost instantly Ryoma wrapped his long, thin legs around Kintarou’s waist, like that morning.
He wrapped smooth arms around his neck like a koala. Kintarou simply did what he felt natural and cuddled the smaller male to him.
“Just shut up, you make a good pillow…mm…I guess you’re a body pillow.”
Kintarou shook his head and sighed at the same time managing to sound admonishing.
Soon Ryoma’s eyes became relaxed and his breathing became even, Kintarou thought he was asleep until he quietly spoke.
“Wasn’t there an exam today? I have to make it up…somehow…” He yawned a little.
“Yeah, there was.” Kintarou confirmed.
“Heehh…How’d you do?” One of his eyes slid open a crack.
“I didn’t go.”
Ryoma frowned and his eyes opened, awake again.
Kintarou really wasn’t sure what to say, sure he stayed to take care of Ryoma but then he probably didn’t need to skip his class either. So he settled with a half-truth.
“I felt like it.” He shrugged slightly, accompanying his words.
Ryoma looked him in the eye for a second before looking down.
Ryoma’s scolding brought that feeling again; he didn’t like it, the feeling that made him feel useless. He frowned and clutched the beautiful boy closer to himself unconsciously. He-
But then Ryoma leaned up and pressed his soft lips against Kintarou’s own. His eyes widened for a second but then he smiled against Ryoma’s lips, reciprocating. He licked Ryoma’s bottom lip gently and tasted a tiny bit of blood. That meant Ryoma had just bit his lip. Hunh.
As they broke apart, the Emerald-haired male smirked, a smirk that didn’t appear as often as it used to. It brought a soft smile to Kintarou’s face.
“Mada Mada Dane, Kintarou.” Kintarou beamed as Ryoma leaned up again.
He saw it in Ryoma’s eyes again. The warm, golden, spark.
I have to end all my oneshots with kissing, I just do.
NOTE: Hey, those people that like this pairing, write some stories. There is literally no yaoi about KinRyo even though they're great together. Go. Write some. Make an actual existent fanbase for them. *spreads arms* Go. :)
I'm going to rant because of reasons, but you don't have to read it:
How. Seriously, how the freaking Hell on EARTH did I write 2,000 words. This is just shocking to me. How did I write this in 3 hours when I literally spent my whole Friday on my Art Essay. And I still have only 800 something words. This...this is just unfair.
Comments are appreciated. :D