#ritsuizu | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sukacheri · 1 year ago

Text

RitsuIzu Week 2023 Day 6 - Embarrassment

rosy [AO3 or Keep Reading below]

ritsuizu | pre-relationship | 2.2k words

Knights takes a 23 hour flight to Iceland so they can do a photo shoot. After hours of chaos, Izumi just wants to enjoy the peace and quiet when they finally all fall asleep. It's never that easy.

Six hours left.

Not that Izumi normally kept track of the time remaining whenever he traveled. What was the point? You’d get there when you get there. If you were late, it was your own fault for not planning properly.

If this were one of his routine flights, he’d be landing around now, maybe even already at baggage claim picking up his sleek black suitcase. Milan to Japan, Japan to Milan, they both averaged out to 13 hours. On those flights, he tried to sleep as much as possible — he invested in a high quality, very expensive, neck pillow for that very purpose — and if he was lucky he’d have passed most of the time that way with a good eight hour sleep.

However, those flights were not this one.

Those flights didn’t have four idiots bouncing their energy off each other. Those flights had the presence of the public to subdue any urges to have an outburst or cause a scene. Those flights were not private with an unlimited refreshment bar that was being ransacked like kids at Christmas.

Now, some of those other transcontinental travels Izumi went on did have Leo aboard, but Izumi booked their seats separately. As far apart as he could, in fact. Leo would be someone else’s problem for half a day.

It had taken about twelve hours for Knights to calm down — Izumi thought they burnt out around seven, but Arashi had, unfortunately, found a karaoke machine. It did not mean his maturity dropped when he joined in for a few songs. Not when he had been directly challenged by that red-headed brat.

Izumi huffed, glancing back at the rest of Knights sleeping in their seats. Tsukasa had a neck pillow hanging around his shoulders, and he slumped against Arashi wearing her sleep mask, a “cute” (tacky) design with green cat eyes staring back at him. Leo slept in the next row over, taking up 3 seats to lounge out, and forgoing any sort of comfort such as a pillow or blanket. And Ritsu was…

Not there.

Izumi narrowed his eyes. He was sure Ritsu was back there the last time he checked, Izumi didn’t remember him walking past at least. He could have gone to the bathroom, but that would require believing he was a mature and sensible adult, and not Ritsu Sakuma.

Where would someone stupid go?

The overhead bins. (Izumi knew this from experience after traveling with Leo for so long.)

But where would someone annoying go?

Izumi felt under his seat, barely keeping his hand from reeling back after touching what was definitely hair.

“Kuma-kun,” he hissed, leaning his head down to look under the seat. Red eyes and a frustrating smirk looked up at him.

“Hi Secchan. I love it when you pet my hair, it makes me feel like you’ll take me home one day like a stray cat.”

“Will you shut up? God, this is so annoying,” Izumi said. He considered pushing Ritsu to go sleep with Leo or something, but painful experience told him if Ritsu had chosen to crawl and lay here, it was because he specifically wanted to pester Izumi.

Ritsu waited patiently to be told off, his sleepy smirk remaining happily on his face. Izumi was very tempted to just kick him, but no, he was mature and not an idiot.

“Move your ass and sit up here or something. You’re laying on my needles.”

Ritsu’s smirk deepened. “Is that an invitation to sit with you?”

“Are you stupid?” Silence. Whatever. “Yes. So move, I need to work.”

While Ritsu crawled out of the impossibly small space that existed underneath airplane seats, Izumi grabbed his knitting needles and a ball of thick violet yarn. He mourned his would-be quiet time as he unraveled a bit of yarn and started to cast on his needle.

“Who are you making that for?” Ritsu asked, taking the middle seat and essentially trapping Izumi against the window.

Izumi’s lip twitched. Observant men were so annoying.

“Why would I be making anyone anything?” He kept his eyes on his needles and loops, not wanting to have a mistake in the start and only realize it 20 rows later.

Ritsu hummed next to him, the noise far closer to Izumi’s ear than he would’ve liked, sending prickly goosebumps raising all over his arms. At least he was wearing a turtleneck. You learned to cover as much skin as possible when it came to dodging Ritsu’s prying eyes.

Plus, it kept his neck safe considering the whole pseudo-vampire thing, whatever was going on with that.

“It’s not for me. You would be too embarrassed to make it right in front of me,” Ritsu observed. “But Secchan waited until he thought everyone else was asleep to start it, so it’s down to Tsukipi, Nacchan, or Suu-chan.”

“Or it could be that you’re all so loud and annoying, and I had to wait until you fell asleep so I could actually get some work done. Huh, I wonder what the more likely option is?”

“Violet doesn’t really match Tsukipi, so probably not for him,” Ritsu continued, blatantly ignoring Izumi.

He clicked his tongue, sparing a sideways glare at Ritsu.

In return he gets the same half-awake smile as before.

“Hmph. Leo-kun wouldn’t know fashion if it hit him in the face. Him or the brat. Kasa-kun’s lucky he has maids to dress him.” He turned his focus back to the knitting, double checking the loops for any inconsistencies and resuming once satisfied he hadn’t botched it.

Ritsu shrugged next to him. “Well, Tsukipi is Tsukipi, there’s no changing that. And Suu-chan is rich, so he’s always wearing something presentable. Even if it doesn’t hold up to Secchan’s ridiculously high standards. Also,” he paused. “Ah, hey. No changing the topic. I’m playing my favorite game here.”

“What game?” Izumi scowled, wishing he could swat Ritsu away with a giant fly swatter. Even mosquitos weren’t this pestering.

“Making Seccahn red with embarrassment. My high score is FF2400.”

Izumi opened his mouth, irritation laden throughout him and ready to spill, but at the jumble of numbers he paused. Numbers? What do numbers have to do with this?

The realization dawning on him nearly made him stumble on a loop as he leveled a sharp glare at Ritsu.

“Fuck off with the fucking hexadecimal. How fucking immature can you be? I’m surrounded by the world’s dumbest people at all times,” Izumi snapped. “How the hell do you even know that? Actually, don’t answer. And watch your mouth, or I’ll find a better use for these needles.”

“Mm, Secchan’s gonna stab me.” Ritsu invaded his space with no further warning, draping himself across Izumi’s shoulder.

Izumi really did want to stab him, and only the thought about having to take a layover for medical attention and add onto the seemingly endless travel time held him back. His skin prickled with frustration, but that wasn’t uncommon whenever he talked to Ritsu. In fact, it’d be concerning if he didn’t feel on the verge of hives the entire time he exchanged words with him.

It was a requirement of dealing with Ritsu to accept you were going to be handled in overly affectionate ways, and somehow the touching was far easier to deal with than the other man’s grating words. So, Izumi let him stay. If he was lucky, Ritsu would fall asleep on his shoulder and finally shut up.

“Nacchan or Suu-chan. Hm…”

Izumi’s fingers clench around his needles and he puts more force than necessary into making a loop that would tear a thinner strand of yarn. This conversation was going to give him a headache if Ritsu refused to drop it, so with a tight exhale Izumi explained.

“It’s for Kasa-kun. He forgot to pack his scarf.” Ritsu smiled into his shoulder, which sent a horrifying fluttery rush through him which he promptly ignored. “Scarves are easy. And I brought my yarn to pass time anyways, so it’s not like I’m really doing anything.”

Ritsu hummed, wrapping his arm around Izumi’s and forcing himself closer than he had any good reason to be, but again Izumi forgoes commenting on it. It was what Ritsu would want him to do.

“I see, well if that’s what Secchan says, then it must be, mmm… 60% of the truth.”

“I’m not lying, so I have no idea what else you want from me.”

Fingers tap against his arm. “I want the other 40%, what you’re not saying. You admit you’re making a scarf for Suu-chan — which is so sweet and just like you by the way — but there must be more. Did you already make something else while everyone was distracted? When was it? I was asleep for a bit when we first took of—”

Izumi went painfully still, keeping his face as blank as he could. His time spent in front of a camera and on runways should give him a better grasp at maintaining a poker face, and yet his cheeks started to burn.

“Ah, I see,” Ritsu purred. “A gift for me.”

Izumi resisted grinding his teeth together as the heat in his face grew. But now that Ritsu had said it, Izumi refused to give him the satisfaction of teasing him as he fruitlessly tried to deny it.

“Whatever. It’s not a gift,” Izumi started, eyes narrowing as smugness began to ooze off Ritsu. He continued quickly before Ritsu could get a word in, “It’s for utility, so that when we get there and do our photo shoot, you won’t be able to sneak out of it by bitching about how cold your hands are. Because I know you’ll do that, then just go over to wherever they’ll have hot chocolate. And then you’ll drag Kasa-kun over to indulge his sweet tooth, and Leo-kun will go over too because he hates being left out of delinquency.”

“Wow. Secchan’s thought up a whole story to excuse him doing something nice out of the kindness of his heart.”

“Shut up.”

“So gloves to keep my hands warm, huh?” Ritsu tapped his chin with his finger. “Interesting. I could have sworn you also bought my current gloves last winter. Are you so neurotic that you want me to have a new pair each year?”

“It’s not gloves. I’m well aware you have gloves already.” Hot embarrassment flooded through Izumi, but he forced the next words out of his mouth before he could decide he’d be better off burning what he made and throwing the ashes out the window. “It’s mittens to go over your stupid gloves. Because I know you’ll be so annoying and bitchy about the weather even though the gloves should be perfectly fucking fine and keep you warm. So, whatever. I made some.”

For a moment, all Izumi heard was the sound of the wind rushing past the plane outside and his own heart beating quickly in his ears. He had kept his eyes trained on his knitting so he wouldn’t have to look at Ritsu, but as the silence stretched he couldn't help but glance over.

Ritsu’s cheeks were dusted with a rosy red.

When he caught Izumi’s eye, he quickly tried to bring his eyebrows down from where they had risen and pulled a smooth smirk on his face.

“Secchan curses like a middle schooler, but he’s as sincere as always.”

“Whatever. You act like you don’t give a crap about it, but aren’t you always happy to get something?”

Ritsu poked his cheek, turning Izumi’s face to make him look back down at his knitting.

“You should stay focused on finishing Suu-chan’s scarf. He’s too stubborn to complain if he gets cold,” Ritsu said. “C’mon, finish up, finish up. I’ll hold the yarn ball, that way I can say we both made it.”

Izumi begrudgingly moved his fingers again, letting Ritsu grab the thick ball of yarn. “You can take all the credit. Better than him thinking he can get shit from me whenever he wants.”

“Mm, he wouldn’t believe me for a second if I said it was all me. But since that’d be funny to argue about with him, I’ll do it.” Ritsu let out a small laugh, already enjoying his hypothetical argument with Tsukasa.

Izumi continued knitting, working rows upon rows into the scarf while Ritsu fulfilled his simple job of keeping enough yarn unrolled for Izumi to use. Their conversation turned to other topics, such as the idiotic decision to let the fans vote on their photo shoot location (because who the hell wanted to go to Iceland when it wasn’t summer? So much for embracing the midnight sun). And when their talking hit lulls, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just a simple silence, a pause of conversation.

Besides, Izumi was pretty sure Ritsu started napping partway through. Eerily able to keep his hands moving to unroll the yarn despite his closed eyes and small breaths.

By the time there was one hour left to go, the other members of Knights woke up and attempted to get some final rounds of karaoke in. Izumi denied their invitations with a glare, even if getting up and gaining some blood flow back into his legs didn’t sound like a terrible idea. He had a lump of deadweight drooling all over his shoulder, and he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he got up now.

#ritsuizu #izuritsu #ensemble stars fic #izumi sena #ritsu sakuma #my writing

14 notes · View notes

fromslumber · 2 years ago

Text

all of your flaws (ao3) izumi's feet are scarred. ritsu hardly minds. an old piece, revisited. written for the prompt: kiss on a scar ♡

There are faded scars spotting Izumi's feet. At his heel and where his toes begin, the marks lurk like persistent purple ghosts. Izumi is fairly good at hiding them, of course, as he is with most things. His feet are hardly bare in the presence of others, but now — slippers and socks peeled away, foot literally in Ritsu's hands — Izumi has no way to cover them from Ritsu's perceptive gaze.

The pad of Ritsu's thumb caresses one such scar, smoothing over it as he studies the blemished skin. His expression is unreadable, dark eyes roaming over every inch of Izumi's foot and not a single sound slipping from his lips. Part of Izumi wonders if he plans on saying anything at all. Even without asking, Ritsu always seems to see and know too much.

(That's often a blessing, for both of them. In this moment, it only makes Izumi all the more self-conscious.)

When Ritsu next blinks, he finally looks up to Izumi's face. "Do they hurt?"

"No," Izumi says, without a moment's hesitation. He can't remember the last time they did. Still, his face scrunches as he adds, "But my soles do. Wasn't that the whole point of this? I'm starting to think you don't know how to give a half-decent massage, after all."

An amused smile teases Ritsu's lips. His thumb presses down a little firmer, a clear mockery of Izumi's complaint. At the following incriminating noise Izumi makes (the spot Ritsu presses is shockingly sensitive), that amused smile spreads a tad wider. "These things take time, Secchan," Ritsu chides. His gaze drops back down to Izumi's foot, and his voice drops to something lower, graver. "It's not like you to let scars form, though."

Izumi's mouth opens, just barely, before tightly pressing shut. He isn't quite sure what to say to that. Ritsu is right, of course. Izumi, as he is now, does anything he can to preserve every spot of unmarked skin. He works tirelessly to avoid breaking out, and he's lost count of how often he's had to push Ritsu away to prevent lasting bruises or bite marks.

But, the scars on his feet — they're from a different time. When Izumi couldn't bring himself to tend to them properly, when he needed to see physical proof of his efforts. Back then, Izumi had needed to feel the prickling pain that accompanied them. He's never tried to articulate this, however, and the mere thought has an annoying lump building in his throat.

"They're pretty easy to cover up," he says instead. "And I'm hardly offered jobs where my feet have to be exposed, anyway."

"That's a shame," Ritsu replies, just a bit too thoughtful for him to be simply teasing. He leans down, and Izumi fights the urge to yank his foot back when Ritsu's breath fans over it. Said urge only intensifies as Ritsu presses a featherlight kiss to the scarred skin. "Secchan's feet are pretty, scars and a~ll."

In an instant, Izumi's neck and cheeks feel as though they are on fire. "Y-You're weird." Ritsu hums, moving to kiss another purple spot. Izumi's heart skips several beats. "Do... Do you even know what a massage is?"

"Sure," Ritsu says. "This seems more important, though."

Again, Izumi can't find the words to say in response. He huffs a breath through his nose. Closes his eyes, cheeks still burning. He also can't find the energy to really try to deter Ritsu any further.

These scars are not the first ugly part Ritsu has seen of him. God, if Izumi kept track of shit like that — he would never have any time to think about anything else. And, if he's being totally honest with himself, they're not even the worst.

Ritsu's response to Izumi's post-flight bitching about his sore feet had been to oh-so-casually offer a massage. Now, he sits before Izumi, lips pressed to scarred skin, holding him as though he is something delicate. Something worth reverence.

The Izumi from all those years ago is still inside of him, somewhere. The one that needed physical proof of his efforts, but even then, knew such proof was not a pretty thing — the Izumi that went as far as to keep his battered feet hidden from his own parents because who fucking knows what they would have said about them, given the chance. Maybe that Izumi...

Ritsu always seems to see and know too much. When Izumi opens his eyes, he finds Ritsu's own, peering up through dark lashes as he kisses another dark bruise. Izumi's chest tightens, almost painful.

Maybe that Izumi — and this Izumi, for that matter — needed someone to see. (And maybe Ritsu knew that all along.)

#ensemble stars #ritsuizu #ritsu sakuma #izumi sena

7 notes · View notes