Title: Slide Away
Pairing: Hiro/K (Kiro)
Genre: Angst/Romance/Fluff/General
Rating: R overall
Summary: Bad Luck is on tour through Japan and the US, and Hiro and K have to face the world of lies, media, edgy band members, intoxicated evenings, nerves, unrequited feelings, sorrow and above all love.
Warnings: Eventual angst, eventual romance and fluff, some humor, some sillyness, some drunkenness, some of everythingness, some smex. So, something for everyone to dread :P
Disclaimer: Maki Murakami's, not mine.
Notes: This is going to be a series of ficlets to be read in a chronological order. I am writing these for a challengecommunity called 50gravi on livejournal, and decided to make a series out of it. Part of the challenge is to write fics about pre-determined themes (the titles of the chapters will be the theme it was written for), and as such this fic might contain themes which I normally would not pursue.
Summary: K tries to ignore Hiro to get some work done. Tries.
G.G.G.
Work was almost sacred to K Winchester. It was something he excelled at, and he prided himself to have worked his way to the top. He was a great manager, if there was a job to be done, K was the man who you could be certain to get it done. He didn't know if it was his gleaming smile or equally gleaming rifle that made people eager to comply to his requests, but wherever he went people went out of their way for him. Yes, K was brilliant at his job, and nothing–nothing–was going to distract him.
Not even Hiroshi Nakano.
Said young man was sitting facing K in the sofa in the trailer. K had ventured into the trailer to get some paperwork done. It was one of the more boring parts of his job, even though dragging home pissed pop-stars could be weary, it was still action. K liked action. Yet, he had come to the trailer to get some work done in the peace and quiet as the band members usually preferred to hang out with the crew in the makeshift assembly hall they set up in every city they visited.
Tonight, however, it had started raining. Shuichi and Suguru had retreated to the little 'arcade' as they called it: a tiny room in the back of the trailer where there was an x-box and lots of pillows. The squeaking noises from the game could be heard through the door now and then, mixed with the low sound of Suguru's curses. He was a very mild-tempered teen, but when it came to x-box games he showed a great vocabulary knowledge of the less appropriate kind.
Hiro–not being remotely interested in how many diamonds you could collect with the little animated crocodile in the game–had sat down with his guitar across from K at the table. He was plucking lightly at the strings, releasing low smooth tones into the air and not disrupting K at all. No sir. K was not even noticing that Hiro was there. It was like the redhead with his silky hair and glittering blue eyes and the slightest dimple in one cheek wasn't even there. Not to mention how K did not see the way the light of the one lit ceiling lamp above them was shining in the red hair, the way the teeth was biting the full lower lip as Hiro smiled slightly and closed his eyes blissfully.
K shook his head. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it... he started chanting in his mind, trying to concentrate on the letter he was writing to the producer of the TV show 'Hit', which, opposed to what one might think from hearing the title, did not feature people beating each other, but was an appreciated show for the latest top songs on the music charts.
"K?" Hiro said, "Does this sound good?" He played a little melody on the guitar.
K couldn't help his eyes rising to look up at Hiro–but before his mind could wander away down the path of Hiro's hair and how it stood out against the dark night which seemed to swivel around them–he forced himself to return to the letter. He contemplated his next line. What usually followed 'Hello'?
"K?"
He grunted vaguely.
"Are you ignoring me?" Hiro asked, smirking.
"I am." responded K, and was startled by the sulking tone of his own voice.
Hiro grinned and started to pick at the guitar again, yet this time it was an actual tune. K vaguely recognised it, but he couldn't really place it. He tried to focus on the letter again, but that became virtually impossible as Hiro started singing. It was low, so low it could almost be compared to a whisper, and along with the soft tunes from the guitar and the easy patter of rain on the windows it was one of the most soothing sounds K had ever heard. Really, he understood why Shuichi was the lead singer of the band, he was vibrant and easy-going and his voice had power, but Hiro... his voice held a smoothness, it was clear in its softness. They ought to record some ballads for Hiro to sing, or have him sing back-up vocals or- no. Ignore ignore ignore.
K glanced up at the redhead and saw Hiro looking at him. Hiro was smiling while singing, his dimples making dark indents as the light had a hard time reaching his face, which was bent slightly towards the guitar.
K felt a jolt flare through his stomach, and quickly looked back down at the letter, somehow having to fight a blush from rising on his cheeks.
Mysteriously, ignoring Hiroshi Nakano didn't feel like ignorance at all.
G.G.G.
