Hikaru no Go, Travel Go

Title: Travel Go [Waya/Isumi]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for the unattended packages
Summary: 13 drabbles about Waya and Isumi and China.
AN: COME HOME, MARKS. I’m using my own prompts in despair! The tiny bit of Mandarin comes from here, via musesfool.

Travel Go

1. Baggage

Isumi looked different when Waya picked him up at the airport; he looked calmer, more serene, more together.

Less likely to kill himself with a plastic knife from the nearest airport café.

“So you had a good time?” Waya asked, ignoring all proper decorum and hugging Isumi tightly as soon as he could elbow enough people out of the way.

“I always do,” Isumi assured, patting Waya’s shoulder. “You didn’t burn down the apartment? Didn’t eat nothing but instant ramen with Shindou?”

“If you’re so worried about me, I guess you should take me with you next time instead of leaving me all alone,” Waya retorted, and if it was a bit sharper than he’d intended, well, he’d been alone for two whole weeks. Still, he rubbed the back of his head when he realized picking fights with Isumi the second he arrived home probably wasn’t the best way to keep him there. “You look good. Like you got rid of some stuff that was bugging you.”

And he really did, Waya reflected as Isumi smiled and thanked him. He looked like he’d left a huge burden on the other side of the ocean.

“HEY!” Isumi interrupted himself suddenly, much louder than anything in the airport newsstand should possibly warrant. “This month’s Shounen Jump!”

“Or maybe just your sanity,” Waya said as Isumi grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside.

2. Jet Lag

“Will you hurry up?” Isumi called from the bathroom. “I didn’t bring you here so you could just lie around on the bed and watch foreign TV, you know. We might be able to get a few games in before dinner if you’d get moving already.”

“Nnngh, can’t get up,” Waya mumbled, settling a little more firmly into the dent he was making on the hotel bed. “Jet lag.”

“Waya,” Isumi laughed as he came out buttoning his shirt, “the time difference from Japan to China is one hour.”

“Jet lag,” Waya said again, grabbing Isumi’s wrist and yanking him down on the bed and undoing all his hard work with the buttons.

3/4. Completely Lost/Teensy Tiny Umbrellas

Isumi was laughing, head thrown back and slumped in the rickety bar chair, cheeks flushed and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

It was beautiful, half of Waya was thinking; the other half was plotting Yang Hai’s immediate demise with the teensy umbrella from his drink.

“Kai tze!*” Yang Hai howled, slapping the table, laughing just as hard.

“Chin wo de pigu,**” Isumi shot back, elbowing Waya, and Waya gave a weak laugh in return and glared into his drink.

“Sorry,” Yang Hai finally said in tolerable Japanese, laughter making his accent thicker. “We’re being rude to Waya-kun.”

“Waya-kun,” Isumi stressed the honorific, teasing, and Waya knew that he was starting to feel the alcohol, “invented rude.”

Waya was really about to let him have it for that one, when Isumi reached over and plucked the little green parasol out of Waya’s drink, pushed it open and closed twice, and then stuck it in his hair.

“Waitress!” Isumi called, waving his arm. “We need more things with umbrellas in them!” and this time it was Waya who exchanged a glance with Yang Hai before cracking up.

*”boyfriend,” slightly derogatory
**”Kiss my ass.”

5. All Suited Up

“Do I really have to dress up just to go play Go?” Waya whined, reaching up to undo the top button of his shirt again, but Isumi slapped his hand away.

“I want you to be presentable,” Isumi said for the fifth time. “I like these people, and I want them to like you.”

“They’ll probably like more a lot more if I’m not dressed up like a Fashion Gackt doll!” Waya exclaimed, but endured having his collar straightened and his hair flattened. Well, attempted flatten, anyway. Isumi had on his serious face, and Waya sighed after a second. “Why’re they so important to you, huh? We know plenty of important Go people at home, too.”

“They helped me fix my go,” Isumi said, quietly, and Waya blinked because that was more words than Isumi had ever said about the change in him from his first trip to China.

“I guess it can’t hurt to make a good first impression,” Waya said, running his own hand through his hair, and then through Isumi’s.

“Also, I won’t be able to tell you and Le Ping apart otherwise,” Isumi said, smile quirking the corner of his mouth, “Might make things awkward if I shove the wrong one of you into the bathroom stall,” and Waya narrowed his eyes and mussed Isumi’s hair all up the wrong way.

6. The Native Cuisine

“It never tastes as good when I try and make it at home,” Isumi said through a mouthful of noodles from the very shady street vendor.

“That’s always the way it is,” Waya agreed, his own mouth so full that it was pretty much unintelligible, but Isumi had a lot of practice with Waya mumbling with a full mouth. Mercifully Waya swallowed before adding, “Like the curry vendors at home.”

“Hey!” Isumi protested. “Are you impugning my homemade curry abilities?”

“You sound like my mother,” Waya reached over to snatch a piece of chicken out of Isumi’s container, “which means yes.”

“See if I make it for you anymore,” Isumi sniffed, stealing one of Waya’s shrimp in retribution.

“Oh, you make it, all right.” Waya stuck another huge bite of noodles in his mouth, then choked on them when Isumi poked him in the armpit with his chopstick.

7. Language Barrier

The little one, who really was uncannily like staring at a Bizarro version of himself, had been spouting a string of Chinese non-stop since Isumi and Waya had come in the door. Waya had mostly just stared, blinking once in a while, and not able to make out a single word.

Finally, Le Ping took a deep breath, crossed his arms, and stared at Waya expectantly.

“What’d he say?” Waya asked Isumi.

“He likes you!” Isumi assured, grinning. Waya raised an eyebrow. “And he wants to see your belly-button.”

8. Unattended Packages

“Thought you wanted to get to bed early?” Waya asked, surprised when Isumi pushed him down on the bed and crawled in after him, getting hands under the T-shirt that Waya had just pulled on.

They were both fresh from the bath, skin warm and hair damp, and Waya gave a laugh that was half-moan when Isumi’s fingers crept higher to skim the ticklish skin on his sides.

“Didn’t say I wanted to sleep early,” Isumi answered, smile crinkling his eyes, and Waya, who had been holding himself back all day, couldn’t keep from kissing Isumi for one second longer.

China really did good things for Isumi, Waya thought hazily, taking all the tension out of his spine and shoulders. Waya ran palms over Isumi’s skin, exploring the difference thoroughly, tipping his head back as Isumi pressed lips against his collarbone.

“We should go on vacation more often,” he said, breath hitching. “Ditch all our responsibilities, attend to each other’s every need…”

“Looks like something could use a little attending right now,” Isumi purred, and Waya choked on a groan as Isumi slipped a hand into his boxers.

9. Exotic Fruits

“Wow,” said Waya.

“Don’t stare,” said Isumi.

“YOOHOO, CUTIE!” said the man in the heels and the lime-green boa, waving at them with daintily-tipped fingernails.

10. Souvenirs

“Good thing it turned cold today, hmm?” Isumi teased quietly, and Waya hunched his shoulders in his scarf and hoped that Le Ping and Yang Hai didn’t mind wandering around outside.

Isumi would be getting his later on, Waya thought darkly, reaching up to pushing lightly against the marks scattered across his neck.

China really did something to Isumi.

11/12. Messages from Home/Out of Contact

“Will you stop with that thing?” Isumi asked, reaching over to pluck the cell phone out of Waya’s hands.

“I was texting Shindou!” Waya protested as Isumi held the phone just barely out of reach.

“Homesick?” Isumi teased, and just then the train rocked and Waya reached the last inch to snatch his phone back. Isumi let him take it, chuckling. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home in a couple days. I know you can’t go a whole week without having some sort of punching competition.”

“Ha ha.” Waya stuck his tongue out and went back to thumbing buttons on the keypad.

“Your cell phone bill is going to be horrible,” Isumi pointed out, settling back in his seat.

“Eh, I’m a professional.” Waya waved him off. “What’s a few yen?”

“What are you writing, a novel?” Isumi asked a few minutes later, when Waya was still clicking away.

“I’m enumerating all the reasons Shindou’s midgame is crap,” Waya answered. “It’s a long list.”

Another few minutes later, Waya was triumphantly pressing the send button just as the train slipped into a tunnel and cut off his signal. After a string of curses, Waya let himself be placated by the arm Isumi put around his shoulders, in between chuckles.

13. Coming Home

“Seems funny not to pick you up at the airport,” Waya said, hefting his duffle bag up onto his shoulder.

“Seems funny not to get picked up,” Isumi agreed. He raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead and hug me, let’s make a scene like usual anyway.”

“Jerk,” Waya laughed, snagging Isumi’s bag off the luggage carousel. He turned to hand it to Isumi, pausing to give him a long look.

Isumi’s shoulders were relaxed, his eyes were bright, he was holding out his hands to take his bag from Waya, and suddenly Waya was filled with the urge to say stupid things about how gorgeous Isumi was and how glad he was that Isumi had just spent a week sharing a place that was special to him with Waya.

“Let’s go home,” Waya said instead, letting his fingers brush Isumi’s over the strap of his bag. “You can make me curry.”