It's been a while since I've written something... and it's been a LONG time since I've written something that wasn't Okada/Ken. I apologise, I know there are people out there who are sick of seeing so much Okada/Ken everywhere, mostly from me... but at this point, you don't really see many V6-centric writers around. I wrote this past midnight, and so it looks rushed... actually it was meant to star two other people, but somehow it turned into this.
Title: It's a love/hate relationship.
Pairing: Sakamoto Masayuki/Okada Junichi (well it's not ACTUALLY shippy, unless the word love immediately makes it shippy...)
Summary: He hates this kid.
Disclaimer: Masa and Okada aren't mine. :'(
He hates this kid sometimes.
He hates how small this kid’s frame is, especially when his shoulders tense up, making him look scary and intimidating in comparison.
He hates how shy this kid is. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, not even the ones closer to his age; he’d rather be by himself in a corner reading books.
He hates how quiet this kid is; he often has to yell at him just to get any sort of response - a scared one, but it’s something.
He hates how cute this kid is, but that’s not his fault really, he is young.
He hates how popular this kid is, but again, that’s not his fault.
He hates how dilligent this kid is. He questions the huge age gap between the two of them, perhaps he should be the younger one.
He hates how stubborn this kid can be, despite being shy and quiet, as he drags him to do things he himself would never do in a million years.
He hates how happy this kid is; clearly he wants to make fun of what a scaredycat his senior is.
He hates how tightly this kid is gripping on his hand, “I know you’re scared, so why did you have to drag me along?”
“Because I want you to protect me.”
He hates how genuine this kid sounds. Of course, he could be lying and playing to his emotions; that’s what happens when you babysit children.
But he can’t say no to him.
“I hate you.”
“Let’s do it again.”
He hates how, no matter how many years have passed, this kid still wants to mess with him and scare him again. His frame is still smaller than his, and he’s just as shy and quiet as he used to be, though more awkward. He’s at the height of his popularity and everybody wants him, and his stubbornness has allowed him to master hidden talents that impresses everyone around him.
He feels a familiar grip on his hand, the same grip he felt all those years ago; it seems that no matter how old he gets, he’s still a kid in comparison.
He asks as the grip gets tighter, “Why did you have to drag me along? You’re not afraid of anything.”
“Because I want to protect you.”
He hates the smile this kid gives him, that gentle smile that so many people love to see. It says, “I know what I’m doing; I want you to trust me.”
He hates how this kid can say something so cliché, but no sense of coolness is lost at all.
“I hate you. I really do.”
A light chuckle, “I love you too.”
He hates this kid sometimes.
But he can’t stop loving him.