Takin' a Chance on Love 2/?
I'm sorry I'm late, but I recently moved to Sweden and had a lot to catch up on. Also, this chapter wasn't really easy on me and I hope you all will like it. Criticism is really welcome :DDD
So here it is:
Fanfiction: Takin' a Chance on Love
Pairing: HayaRyu
Genre: Romance, Angst, Comedy
Rating: NC-17ish, it depends on the chapters.
Disclaimer: No, they are not mine. Sadly T-T
Betaed by: jayeanne
Part 2
Loud laughter and the usual chaos inevitably ensuing when they are together - all four of them - has slowly died out a while ago. Taku and Hayato's dad are going to be late, the first at cram school, the other still at work.
It was Take’s idea to celebrate. Tsucchi has been accepted as a trainee in a big housing agency; moreover, two weeks ago, it had been Hyuuga’s birthday, and they haven’t been together in weeks.
Ryu leisurely takes a long drag from the cigarette in his left hand, while he watches the dark, sleeping neighborhood from the balcony of Hayato’s house. Some sort of disappointed resignation is creeping in, and he’s failing at keeping it at distance.
He still couldn’t believe how much all of them have grown, together. Honestly, he had never thought that their friendship would last after their high school graduation, and to tell the truth, there had been a period right after school that they hadn’t been able to spend with each other. They were all busy trying to figure out what to do with their lives now that they had entered adulthood; and for a short while, contacts between them had been sporadic and mostly on the phone.
Hayato and Hyuuga are still working on that, apparently. They still hop from one job to another, more often in clubs and restaurants more than anything else. Take enrolled in university. Tsucchi seems to have found the job that suits him best.
Ryu feels like he’s the only one who hasn’t settled yet; he always wanted to find a job he could take pride in doing, but for now, working in a club seems to be the only option.
What will become of me?
He’s tired of being asked this question, but mostly, he’s tired of asking himself this question, over and over again. He’s thought about going to university, but everything seems empty, meaningless.
Until last year, he probably was most afraid of disappointing his parents.
Now, he’s afraid of disappointing his own expectations. And failure doesn’t seem that far away.
What does this say about me?
Inside, there’s a soft clattering of dishes, the low muttering of the TV. They come muffled to Ryu’s ears, but for a moment, as the French window briefly opens and closes again, he can distinctly hear Take’s and Tsucchi’s soft, playful laughter inside the kitchen. When he turns, Hayato has poked his head outside, eyes sleepy but curious.
“Ne, Ryu… aren’t you cold? It’s freezing out here!” he almost screeches, and the look on his face is so comic that Ryu can’t help but smile.
His eyes get drawn again to the night sky. He immediately feels Hayato’s warmth on his side, and before it even happens, he already knows that Hayato’s going to take a pull at his unfinished cigarette. He watches him curl his long fingers around Ryu’s wrist, raising his hand towards his face. His full mouth closes on the stick and his eyelashes tremble a bit from the heat and the smoke spreading about his face.
“What’s wrong, Ryu?”
He’s serious now. Ryu can see the way Hayato’s jaw is set, a bit tense, how his eyes search Ryu’s for answers, but he’s tired of feeling the weak link of their group, the one usually standing out - the problematic one. Even when they were little punks, he was undoubtedly the one causing trouble. Some would argue Hayato had been the one; but he knows better. After all, Hayato has always known who he is; even back when he didn’t know where he was going yet.
“Nothing. Just enjoying the view.” His tone is maybe lower than he thought, because in the next moment, Hayato’s arm is suddenly around his shoulders and guiding him back inside.
“Stop worrying that pretty head of yours. What am I gonna do with you?” He feels his smile without having to turn his head, and feels an answering smile curving his lips even as his hand closes in a fist and punches the other in the side.
“Oi!! That hurt, brat!”
Hayato’s roaring complaints mixed with his laughter rouses Hyuuga from the deep slumber he had fallen half an hour ago, and a shoe hits Hayato right in the face, sending the group in a fit of hysterics.
“Nice aim, Hyuuga!!” comes Take’s comment in the midst of the general hilarity. Tsucchi is laughing so hard he fans himself to recover, while Hyuuga seems to have literally stopped breathing.
“How dare you laugh like that?!” Hayato screams enraged, “You almost broke my nose, you moron!!” He angrily stomps in the bathroom and slams the door behind him, affronted, just as a neighbor raps sharply on a wall of the kitchen and the collective laughter slowly turns to barely suppressed snickering.
***
He doesn’t remember how much he has drunk but it must have been a lot because his head is clouded and his body is a dead-weight. The accompanying headache is powerfully painful, too.
Thoughts like failure are still swirling in his head and he feels pathetic, a whining brat without initiative. What was he expecting from himself exactly? He’s been told, over and over. Nothing but trouble, you and those punks you call friends. Disappointment. A bitter half-laugh escapes his lips and he feels sick with the realization they were right. He’s such a disaster. His eyes burn but the tears don’t come.
It’s too late for tears anyway.
As he tries to stand a light blanket slips off his shoulders. He realizes he must have passed out on the couch, and now the living room is in twilight, lights off as he looks around and-
And Hayato is there, leaning with a shoulder on the doorframe, staring at him. He jumps, then opens his mouth, but finds nothing to say. Ryu can’t see his eyes in the semi-darkness, but it’s strange how the dim light highlights those handsome features, the high cheekbones and the oval of his face.
He feels his stomach tighten and for a second he wonders why-but he doesn’t have time to think, because Hayato is coming closer. Hayato’s eyes are strange, he thinks for a funny moment, not completely open but with an intense look, and then he’s right there in front of him and he can’t think anymore.
“What-“ What are you doing? He almost asks, as Hayato bends towards him until his face is millimeters away from his and he can’t breathe. The air is charged with tension. Ryu feels edgy for some reason, as Hayato looks straight in his eyes and doesn’t move.
It feels longer, but in a split second Hayato pushes him down, down until he’s leaning back on the armrest of the couch, wondering and still, knowing in some corner of his mind what is going to happen.
We are friends, says a tiny voice.
“Hayato, are you drunk?” he musters, eyes wide, and yet, Hayato is still looming over him, not looking completely like himself. “What are you doing?” he manages. But Hayato doesn’t answer.
It happens in a heartbeat. Hayato is flush against him, his legs tangled with Ryu’s, his lips on his own and Ryu can’t do anything, can’t bring himself to do nothing, except being kissed. Hayato’s mouth moves with purpose, his tongue caressing the inside of his mouth maddeningly slow, merciless in his attack, and suddenly it’s hot, so hot Ryu can’t breathe. He realizes he’s answering the kiss with every fiber of his body, tasting arousal and cheap alcohol, but he can’t stop. There’s an unbearable aching in his gut as Hayato’s tongue traces the contours of his own and he wills himself not to surrender. We are friends, he says, over and over in his head.
So why doesn’t he push him away?
He feels Hayato’s hands fumble with his shirt and he jolts, grabbing his wrists. “Hayato. Stop.” He thinks he wanted to scream, only his voice felt so weak he could even barely hear it. But Hayato hears him.
“’m sorry, Ryu.” He slurs. They are his first words, and he feels him release his clothes and curl up against him. They are so close. They’ve never been so close before, so close that Ryu can feel the lines of his body moving against him, to adjust to the cramped space of the couch. Hayato is a comforting weight. He has barely the room to breathe, only short, measured breaths but he feels strangely reassured by the constraint.
Hayato really is drunk.
“It’s okay.” He hears himself murmur back through his shock. His lips tingle and he’s completely wired up. His hard-on is the only clear thing in his head. It pulses scorchingly hot in his clothes, and for several moments, he can’t focus on anything else, just Hayato’s soft, serene breathing on his neck and his painfully restrained erection. He tries to will it away, tries to think sad, depressing things, while taking big gulps of air. He would have been hyperventilating at the idea that Hayato could feel it, and he’s thankful that he’s anything but sober. Still, the thought manages to get him under control again.
After a while, his head clears a bit.
And suddenly, the whole weight of what just happened is revealed to him.
They are friends, he thinks furiously. What the fuck just happened?
Even if he wanted to blame entirely Hayato and his drunken state, he can’t deny his obvious attraction towards the guy. Sure, there always has been something about Hayato that made him soft, vulnerable. He has never pondered that problem before, never admitted to himself that in fact it was a problem. But now, now the situation has become even more confusing, because Hayato kissed him senseless and it’s messing him up.
He needs to think.
Ryu isn’t exactly a man of instinct; he isn’t Hayato, following blindly his emotions. But he has never been able to really think when Hayato is concerned, either.
Ok, so. He’s going to pretend nothing happened. After everything Hayato has drunk tonight, he will never remember sneaking up on Ryu… won’t he?
And even if he did, that would be entirely Hayato’s fault. Ryu would never be blamed, even if he didn’t kick him off the couch. Even if… he liked it?
Shut UP.
His first kiss… of course it’d have that effect on him, he wasn’t prepared, and still… had Tsucchi, or Take, or Hyuuga kissed him, would it have been the same? Would he have felt attracted to them also?
If he were to be honest to himself… but there’s no need to. Right? It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t.
For a panicky moment he can picture Hayato’s disbelieving, inquiring eyes, and they are all wrong, as if he was wondering:
“If I was drunk… what’s your excuse?” and he can’t answer that, not even to himself, and what the hell is his problem?
He never realized before. But he can’t say it, can’t even think about possibly liking Hayato -- sure, as a friend, as a brother-but never that way. He has never even looked at another guy that way. You don’t turn into guys overnight.
It doesn’t matter that he never liked a girl before, that he never turned in the streets to look at a girl before.
He feels Hayato’s mouth on his neck, his lips just resting there, his moist breath grazing his skin and he swallows, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, and what the fuck, what if Hayato wakes up now?
The thought sends his heart racing again, blood in his cheeks and he can’t fucking breathe.
You need to get outta here, screams his mind. He needs to think, he can’t be here and be Hayato’s pillow while his reason evaporates completely. He’s in full panic mode and he needs to snap right out of it.
Think. He’s always been good at it and now he can’t even do the right thing and get out of there before someone wakes up - possibly Hayato, or even worse. Taku. Their dad.
He starts to move, as slowly as he can without freaking out more than he already is, but it proves to be harder than expected. Hayato is heavy - not that he looked a light-weight either, but still.
He probably wouldn’t realize, he’s that wasted. But Ryu can’t risk it, can’t have Hayato waking up and asking him where the hell he's going. He doesn’t think he’s in the right state of mind to lie, and lie smoothly. And despite appearances, Hayato is quite perceptive.
After what feels like an eternity, he manages to disentangle himself and slip out of the guy’s half-embrace.
He turns to look at him a last time. Because it’s going to be the last time--
He realizes it in that moment. Hayato will ask questions, tomorrow. Why did he left without warning him? What’s he gonna answer? That he woke up in the middle of the night and wanted out?
Or worse yet, what if Hayato actually remembers something?
The awkwardness would be unbearable, a strain their friendship would most probably not survive. Ryu can picture Hayato stopping calls to Ryu, avoiding his eyes when they meet, and it’s so painful he fears he might choke on that feeling. He knows now he’s not willing to put that at stake. He can’t risk being there and witness their friendship going down the drain-
What am I supposed to do now?
And in that moment he really hates Hayato.
Because he realizes that the most awful, painful thing for him would be Hayato dismissing the fact as a bother, a stupid mistake to forget. Hayato ending their friendship, because uncomfortable silences are too much to bear.
Maybe he was the only idiot to invest something in this relationship. But he doesn’t have the courage to find out.
When the door closes behind him, he doesn’t turn again.
***
It’s a piece of cake after that to take the easy way out.
Canada seems the farthest place in the world from Hayato and that excruciating pain. It’s so far he can lock it away, pretend it never happened. Pretend nothing awaits him in Japan. It’s far enough.