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Summary
Collection of the short drabbles I published on @talkativewyvern
- Words:
- 15,055
- Works:
- 8
- Bookmarks:
- 8
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“I really don't know how you manage it, Osamu.”
Atsumu's eyes creep back open upon hearing Aran's muffled voice from inside. He hears Aran chuckle sadly, “Trying to run a business while having to watch over yer brother like this.”
“Managin' it? I'm at the end of my rope, Aran.” Osamu sounds like he's on the verge of passing out and Atsumu's gut twists in guilt. He blinks trying to dry his glassy eyes. He didn't need Osamu to manage him and he certainly didn't want his brother to worry about him like this.
“Ever since our parents left, 'Tsumu just hasn't been the same.”
'Like ya have, asshole.' Atsumu thinks bitterly.
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The Treasure Planet Au that no one asked for, but y'all didn't need to ask. -
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And even though Osamu was the one with the violin first, even though Atsumu spent his first two years with the little wooden thing producing noise pollution, he knows somewhere in his heart that the two of them are meant to be great.
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Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.
[...]For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.
In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.