a/n: I don't own Digimon.
prompt: "Paper Flower"
wc: 637
Takeru poised his pen over his paper, ready to write. The problem was, he'd been sitting like this for at least fifteen minutes, and so far, he hadn't made any progress. He glared at his notebook and tossed it to the ground with an annoyed sigh.
Forget it, he thought, irritated. There is no way I'm going to be able to write. Or at least right now.
Usually the words would just flow from his pen to the paper. It didn't take him long for sentences to become paragraphs, and paragraphs to become pages.
Other times, like this time, it would take him hours to write one sentence that looked right.
There was no in between.
Takeru threw his head back frustration. He looked down at the notebook, mentally ripping the pages in it to pieces.
As he leaned back against the tree, he heard footsteps to his right. He didn't have to look up to know who it was.
Daisuke's voice, low and sexy, breathed out, "Hey," centimeters away from his ear.
"Hey," Takeru mumbled back, his tone noticeably less enthusiastic then the other's.
Instantly, the older teen pulled away, raising an eyebrow in concern. "Well you seem happy today," he said, grinning slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Dais." Takeru looked up at him and offered a small smile, trying not to ruin the other's mood. "Just frustrated, that's all."
Daisuke's grin widened. "Well maybe I can help." The older boy sat down carefully next to him, following Takeru's vexed gaze. Then he asked, "Writer's block again?"
Takeru breathed out slowly. "Yeah." He looked up from the notebook and at Daisuke again, then blinked in confusion.
One of Daisuke's hands was resting on his knee, dangling lazily above the grass. The other was at his side, his fingers clenched around something, as if to hide it.
Perking up a little, Takeru asked, "What's that?"
Daisuke's hand twitched. "Oh, this?"
"Yeah."
Slowly, Daisuke unclenched his fist to reveal a small, slightly crumbled origami flower. It was made of plain notebook paper and the tips of it were sorta bent from being held for so long.
"I… I made you a flower," Daisuke admitted sheepishly, scratching his cheek with his free hand. Takeru raised his brows again, and Daisuke added, "I mean, I wanted to get you a real flower, but then I thought, 'Well, don't real flowers die at some point?' and you know, paper never really dies. It can get torn or something, right, but it still stands tall. And I—I wanted to make you something that meant that we wouldn't really die, even if we did have some rips, you know? That we had some scars, but we weren't, like, done."
Takeru blinked and didn't respond right away. Immediately, Daisuke's cheeks became bright red and he looked away, mumbling, "Yeah, go ahead and laugh. It was stupid, anyway," before shrinking into himself.
At that, Takeru did laugh. A small, mirthful laugh that seemed to make Daisuke's blush deepen. He kept laughing for a few moments, and then shifted so that he was a little closer to the other boy.
Slowly, Takeru took the origami flower in his right hand and murmured, "C'mere," in a soft voice. He grasped Daisuke's chin with his left hand and pecked him on the lips shortly, smiling slightly. "You really know how to make my day better, don't you?"
"So you, umm, you like it?"
"Of course. I love it," Takeru whispered. He shifted again so he could stand, then offered a hand to his boyfriend, who in turn grinned and accepted it gratefully. Daisuke picked up Takeru's notebook and gave it to him, and, hand in hand, they walked away, with Daisuke rambling about suddenly being very hungry, and Takeru smiling, already feeling better than he had minutes before.