...somethin'
Now back by semi-popular demand!
I'm glad you guys are liking it so far. before she left for japanland, aya and I hash out about 80 something pages of this story which means I'll be able to update pretty regularly for awhile. the bad thing is until I hear from her again I only have 80 something pages of story which means I'll eventually run out... but lets not worry about that yet.
The day of the wedding dawned sunny and clear. Dire glanced out the window in the middle of dying his hair and snorted. It was like a damn Disney movie. Next he’d probably see birds helping Lani carry her train or something. Dire sighed, and gave his hair one last rinse, stepping back to view the effect. He had added some red to the blue, temporary, of course, to make a nice purple shade that matched his pinstripe suite perfectly. The tall man sat around waiting for his hair to dry, and tried to keep his mind occupied. He tried reading, but all the books in the room just kept reminding him of Iyan. He tried napping, but all that did was make his head spin even faster with frustration towards the small blonde. Finally, he got dressed, braced himself, then went downstairs to face Iyan’s family. Dire had come up with a handy montage to help him keep his rapidly fraying temper in check: I will not kill Iyan’s father, I will only slightly maim him. I will be patient with Iyan, I will not rip his head off in frustration. Repeat until insane. Dire turned down the last flight of stairs; already the loud piercing voices of some of Iyan’s aunts were stinging his ears, and Iyan’s cousins were obviously having a screaming match of some kind. “Perfect,” muttered Dire as he reached the bottom step, and then put on his best company smile.
All during the brunch and trek to the outside pavilion where the wedding was to take place, Dire kept a sharp eye out for Iyan; but it seemed the small blonde was either exceptionally good at hiding or had fled the scene entirely. Dire put his money on the former; despite how the younger man acted sometimes, Dire never really felt the other man was a coward at heart. He sighed, and took his seat next to a rather large uncle and one of Iyan’s cousins. The cousin smiled at him, “Hello, Dire. I trust my cousin is treating you well?”
“Hm? Ah, yeah,” Dire said, trying desperately to remember the girl’s name. She giggled demurely, “Forgot my name already?” Dire laughed sheepishly, “Sorry, yeah. There’s just so many of you…” She smiled, “That’s alright. I’m Nora.” Dire slapped his hand to his forehead, “Right! Nora. I don’t know how I forgot such a charming face.” Nora giggled again, and glanced at his hair, “You dyed your hair.”
“Yeah, blue and purple don’t really go together, and there was no way I’d buy a new suit just for this.”
“Well I think you look very handsome.”
Dire was suddenly acutely aware that Nora was staring at him a little too intently. It caught him off guard, and he rushed to break the prolonged silence, “Uh, yeah, so! Speaking of Iyan, have you seen him?”
“Hm… I don’t believe so,” said Nora, finally taking her green eyes off of Dire. “But he has to show up. His father would kill him if he didn’t.”
“You don’t say,” muttered Dire, casting one last look around the tent for Iyan. Suddenly, the string quartet towards the front of the room began to play, and the ceremony was underway. It wasn’t until Lani and Richard were halfway through their vows that Dire finally spotted a familiar blonde head, seated up in the very front row next to a small dark-haired woman Dire knew to be Jun. The tall man let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t even been aware he was holding in. At least Iyan was here. For the rest of the ceremony, which was really only about ten minutes, Dire watched the back of Iyan’s head, determined not to loose the blonde even after the wedding.
Unfortunately, Dire had forgotten to take into account the vast number of relatives present for the wedding. The instant the couple was out of harms way, the sea of relations surged towards the exit and Dire lost all sight of the petite blonde. Sighing in frustration, the tall man let himself be carried along to yet another pavilion where the reception was to take place. He found his name card, and sat down in a slightly dejected heap. Nora’s voice pushed him out of his stupor, “Hello again! Wow! We’re sitting at the same table… how odd. I would have thought you would be sitting with Iyan.” Dire shook his head, “No, that table is family only. So,” he grinned at the girl, making her blush, “I guess you’re stuck with me for the evening.” Nora giggled again, and sat down, looking around at the crowd, “Oh… there’s so many people… did you ever spot Iyan?”
“Yeah, and then lost sight of him two seconds later,” Dire said, just as a plate of food was set in front of him. Dire turned to thank the person, and was confronted with a familiar face. “Hey! Ophelia!” The woman quirked him a grin, and pressed a finger to her lips, “Hey, Dire. Keep it down, okay? Lani is so uptight that everything be perfect, even a slight change in volume could set her off.” Dire laughed, and waved goodbye to her and to Tony, who was waiting a table across the way. The tall man turned back to the table to find Nora and the other three cousins at his table staring at him. “What was that about?” asked a boy sitting next to Nora, “do you know them?”
“Sort of,” Dire admitted, “We got to talking one night.”
“That’s… very cool of you, Dire,” beamed Nora. Her expression fell a little as she gazed over her shoulder at someone standing behind Dire. He turned to look, and found himself face to face with Iyan. “…hey,” said the younger man, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was wondering… if we could talk somewhere private.” Dire nodded, and Iyan looked instantly relieved, “Thanks. Could you meet me up in our room in about ten minutes? I need to go…greet some people,” Iyan made a face at the thought. Dire laughed softly, “You got it.” Iyan smiled slightly, and walked away. Dire turned back to the table to find Nora staring at him intently. “What?” he asked. Nora suddenly smiled brightly, and stood up, tugging at Dire’s sleeve, “He said in ten minutes, right? That means you can dance with me until then!”
“Uh…” Dire didn’t have a chance to reply as he was dragged out onto the dance floor. After a song, he began to loosen up and enjoy dancing; even if it was with a bunch of people who were either old enough to be his mother or young enough to be his siblings. Nora would not let him out of her sight, and after a while, Dire began to worry a bit. It had been more than ten minutes, surely, but he was having trouble politely extracting himself from Nora’s company. She kept insisting he stay for one more song, and then another. Finally, after agreeing against his better judgment to a third song, Dire finally took Nora aside. “Look,” he said a bit wearily, “your cousin… he’s pretty particular about people being on time.” Nora rolled her eyes slightly, “What can he have to talk about that’s so important? Come on, Dire,” she tugged at his sleeve, “we were having fun. Just one more song?” Dire gently grabbed her hand and pulled it off his sleeve, “Sorry, Nora. I can’t.” She crossed her arms and pouted a little, glaring at him, and in that moment she looked so much like Iyan that Dire almost burst out laughing, before catching himself. He smiled at her instead, “Sorry, kiddo, maybe later okay?” He turned and hurried away, but not before hearing a scandalized, “Kiddo?” from behind him. Dire sighed silently to himself and hurried towards the house.
The tall man practically ran up the stairs to get to their room. He opened the door in a hurry, panting out, “Sorry your cousin-“ He stopped. The room was empty. Dire took another step into the room, calling out, “Iyan? You in here?” No response. “Oh… shit,” Dire sighed, and sat down slowly on the bed. He shouldn’t have let Nora guilt-trip him in to dancing more with her. Dire glanced around the room, looking for a note, anything that would tell him where the blonde had disappeared off too. The window was open. Dire blinked, and checked again. Not only was the window open, the screen was off too. Maybe… Dire hurried to the window, and stepped out onto the room. He clamored up to the top level, and there was Iyan. The other man had taken off his suit coat and was reclining back on it, looking up at the sky. The blonde apparently heard Dire scrambling out of the window, and he turned to face the other man with an expression torn between amusement and exasperation across his face. “You’re late,” said the blonde, looking back up at the sky. Dire sat down next to the younger man, taking off his jacket too, “I know. Sorry.”
“Did Nora keep you?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
Iyan looked at Dire with a suffering expression, “She told me she has a crush on you.” He looked back up at the sky with a look of disgust, “Exactly why she felt the need to tell me, I’ll never know.” Dire chuckled slightly, “Well, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it. I think I let her down easy though.”
“Good.”
“You know,” said Dire, turning to face the blonde, “She looks an awful lot like you. Same eyes and everything.”
“Yeah,” said Iyan, nodding slowly, “They’re…” he paused, then continued, “They’re my father’s eyes. Nora’s my father’s sister’s daughter.”
The two sat in silence, drinking in sight of the sun setting and listening to the indistinct chatter waffling up from the pavilion. Iyan was the first to break the silence, “I’m sorry I acted like such a brat yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Dire furrowed his brow in mock concentration, “If you’re going to be apologizing for acting like a brat yesterday… you may as well go the whole nine-yards and apologize for existing, oh king of brats.” Iyan let out a bark of laughter and punched Dire in the arm, “You asshole, I’m trying to be serious.”
“I know, sorry,” Dire flashed an apologetic grin at the other man. Iyan’s face turned somber again, and he sighed, looking out at the sunset. “You know,” the blonde said suddenly, “I did try. To tell them, I mean.” Dire didn’t say anything, just waited for Iyan to continue. “My sister,” Iyan chuckled darkly, “my sister didn’t believe me. She always loved my father the most out of all of us. Daddy’s little girl,” Iyan’s voice took on a bitter tone, and he stopped talking again. Then he sighed, and continued, “My… mother, saw it happen. More than once. Before I…” Iyan closed his eyes, and Dire watched in silence as the blonde struggle against his instincts for every word. The older man almost reached out, then thought better of it and kept still. Iyan didn’t seem to notice, and he continued, “Anyway, I used to… not be as good at tolerating pain. One day she heard, and came in just in time to see…she bandaged me up afterwards, and told me not to be so clumsy in the future.” Iyan shook his head slightly, and looked up at the sky, “She just… pretended it wasn’t going on. One time, after I had talked back to my father during an important press conference, she walked in to tell my dad that dinner was ready. He didn’t miss a beat, just said, ‘Thanks honey. I’ll be there in a minute.’ And… continued.” Iyan swallowed audibly, and crossed his arms to hide his shaking hands. “Anyway, it didn’t take long to learn that it was just a lot easier to pretend it wasn’t happening. If my mother didn’t say anything about it, and my sister didn’t believe me, what else was there? For a long time I thought… I thought I was going crazy. That maybe everything that had happened was just some sort of twisted world I inflicted upon myself to make up for my mistakes. But…” Iyan smiled weakly, and rested his head on his arms, “… that’s why I was so mad last night. You didn’t…pretend it away. Asshole.” Dire let out a long sigh, “Yeah, well… your lies were pathetic anyway.” Iyan gave a strained laugh, “They were, weren’t they? God, half the time I just wanted to ask my teachers if they were mentally deficient. I mean,” Iyan’s laughter took on a slightly hysterical tone, “one time, I told them the marks on my arm were from me shooting myself with a BB gun. I mean, god! The only excuse more typical than that is the classic ‘I fell down the stairs’ one. Just…” Iyan’s voice broke, and he turned away. For a second Dire felt at a loss of what to do but then, he reasoned it couldn’t be half as bad as what Iyan was feeling. He reached across and put an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, and sighed softly. “Hey, Iyan …”
“Don’t,” Iyan’s voice sounded faint with exhaustion, “Just… you always come up with something cliché to say at times like this… probably because of your romance-novel background.” Dire smiled a little bitterly “Yeah, probably.”
The sun had set fully a long time ago, and the glow from the pavilion was the only thing illuminating the area. Suddenly, a huge burst of color lit up the sky, and a huge boom shook the tiles beneath the two. Dire and Iyan both started, and Iyan unconsciously moved closer to Dire. “What,” the blonde gasped, slightly shaken, “what the hell was that?” Dire grinned, “Fireworks. Man, you weren’t kidding when you said your sister wanted to go all out.” Iyan shrank closer to Dire as another boom echoed across the forest, coloring the sky a bright blue. “Yeah, she…she always had to be the extravagant one. Mom always said that… Lani took to wealth like a fish to water. Oh god, this is just like an expensive thunderstorm.”
Dire quirked a grin at the shaking blonde, “Hm. You’re right. Guess you just pay to have it in color.” Iyan laughed weakly, and huddled even closer to Dire, shaking slightly and clutching to his shirt.
The two watched the rest of the fireworks in silence; and both pretended to not notice the tear soaked spot on Dire’s shirt nor Iyan’s slightly swollen eyes. They continued to pretend all while packing up to go home, and while Iyan silently cried himself to sleep that night. Long after the smaller man fell asleep, Dire sat up thinking; and it wasn’t until the pale light of false-dawn sent streaks through the window that he finally fell asleep.
Early the next morning, the two packed, called a cab, and sat outside the house on the front porch. Iyan was shivering because of the morning fog, and Dire was trying to figure out how to tell Iyan that he should just wear a damn coat and stop being so proud. The sound of muted footfalls made the two men look up just in time to se Iyan’s father jogging through the mist towards the house. He came to a stop in front of the two, whipping sweat off his forehead and smiling, “Hey, you guys trying to sneak off without saying goodbye?”
“Sorry, dad. Work tomorrow,” said Iyan, staring up at his father with a controlled expression. Paul’s face fell slightly, and he sighed, “Oh well, guess your mother and I can’t keep you cooped up here forever.” He reached down and ruffled Iyan’s hair. Turning to Dire, Paul’s face took on a mock severe look, “And I expect you to take good care of my son. Treat him as if he were family, got it?” Dire smiled weakly, the irony not lost on him, “Got it, Mr. Semrau.” A taxi horn blared through the fog, and Iyan jumped up as though stung, grabbing his bags. “Goodbye, dad,” the blonde said and made a beeline for the cab. Dire nodded once to Mr. Semrau, who was waving goodbye to his son, and followed Iyan.
The ride home was uneventful, though awkward. Iyan, either because of the tension or to escape from it, spent the majority of the time napping. Dire finished his book, and then continued his thoughts from the previous evening, ninety-five percent of which centered around the blonde sleeping next to him. Finally, the cab pulled up in front of the warehouse, and the cabbie helped them unload their bags. Dire trudged up the stairs and Iyan trailed after him. After unpacking, Iyan, claiming he was tired (Dire didn’t bother commenting on the sheer impossibility of this considering the blonde had spent the day sleeping) and crashed on the couch. Dire stayed up much later studying, falling asleep hours later at the table with his history notes.
Classes resumed and pushed most thoughts of Iyan out of Dire’s mind. He had forgotten how sadistic professors got after a break, and the amount of papers and homework was backbreaking. Every night the blue-haired man was up way past three in the morning, and would wake up every morning at seven to get some extra studying in before class. Dire was exhausted, but not, it seemed, as exhausted as Iyan. The blonde would come back to the warehouse every night at four, collapse on the couch, then be gone an hour later. Dire only knew about this because the pile of Iyan’s dirty laundry next to the dresser got bigger every day. After a week or so of having glimpsed nothing of the other man but his dirty clothes, Dire was frustrated beyond belief. He knew why the younger man was avoiding him, that much was obvious, but it still pissed him off that Iyan obviously had no respect for his own well being and the strain his current lifestyle must be putting on him.
One morning, Dire woke up as usual, took a shower as usual, and began making toast. Humming idly as he waited for the toast to brown, Dire stared off into space at the warehouse, but something on the couch caught his eye. Iyan was curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled up to his chin. The blonde’s eyes were shut tight because of the light streaming in through the window, and even in sleep the small man looked pissed off about something. Dire noticed Iyan’s cell phone sitting on the coffee table and flipped it open. The alarm on it was set for five A.M. Dire glanced down at the other man-Iyan must have been so exhausted he had slept through his alarm. The tall man sat on the edge of the couch so as not to disturb Iyan, and flipped through the blonde’s contact info on his phone. He knew it was rude, but… “Heh.” Dire pushed the send button and waited. A moment later, Professor Lynn picked up on the other end, “Hello?”
“Hello, Professor. This is Dire Alvarez, Iyan Semrau’s roommate.”
“Okay… what can I do for you?”
“Iyan is atrociously sick; seriously, sir, he’s puking all over the damn place.” On the other end of the line, Lynn sighed, “I was hoping he wasn’t getting ill, he’s been looking so pale lately. But we seriously need him to come in and grade these papers. They’ve been piling up for-“
“Sorry,” cut in Dire, “You’ll have to get one of the other TAs to cover for him.” Professor Lynn began to protest, but Dire pretended like he hadn’t heard, “Okay then. Thank you for being so understanding, professor. He’ll be back in on Monday. Bye!” Dire pushed the end button, and allowed himself a small grin. He spared a glance at the sleeping blonde, but Iyan was so far gone the sound of the phone call only made him frown a little more in his sleep. Dire stood up and stretched and decided to take the day off too. He plopped down in his nest and was asleep in seconds.
“Oof!” said Dire as something hit him in the ribs, effectively jostling him out of a nice sleep. He cracked open one hazel eye to glare at the offender. “Ow. Goddamn it, Semrau, that hurt. What-“ Dire sat up suddenly, his sleepy eyes finally registering Iyan’s panicked expression. “Iyan? What’s wrong?” The blonde ignored him and began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Dire sighed and sat up, wincing at his bruised side. Suddenly, Iyan rounded on him, obviously furious. “You told Professor Lynn I was sick?” the blonde yelled, glaring at the taller man. Dire rolled his eyes, and picked himself up, “Iyan, you were so dead to the world this morning even if I had tried to wake you up I doubt it would have worked. And just to let you know, he already thought you were looking a little ill.” The blue-haired man made his way to the kitchen and began pulling things out of the cupboard as Iyan resumed his pacing, “I can’t believe… I… god I have so many things I have to get done WHY didn’t you wake me up?” Dire broke a couple of eggs into a bowl and began mixing them, sighing, “Iyan, you need to stop this.”
“Stop what, Alvarez? Pacing? Buying off brand detergent? Listening to country music? Let’s be a little more specific.”
Dire ignored the other man’s sarcasm and began ladling batter into a frying pan, “You know what I mean. You need to stop punishing yourself like this.” Iyan did stop pacing then, and Dire could practically hear the other man’s eyes roll. “Okay then, Alvarez, I’ll bite. Explain to me how I’m punishing myself.”
Dire turned around and fixed Iyan with a pointed stare, “You’re not stupid, Iyan, nor have I deemed you to be a poor judge of character. No one is going to be impressed with you if you continue to work yourself to death just to glean some approval. Your father is not-“
“Shut up about my father, Alvarez,” Iyan’s soft voice made Dire stop talking so fast it was as though the other man had shouted the words. “Stop acting like a fucking know it all. I’m fully aware of the fact that even if I became president my dad…would…” The blonde trailed off, then shook his head and continued, “Anyway, I haven’t been avoiding this place to go work myself to death, as you so aptly put.”
“Then why-“
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Iyan said, and turned his back on Dire to go sit down on the couch. The taller man sighed, and resumed cooking. He placed the finished pancakes on a couple of plates, and brought them along with a pitcher of juice over to the couch. Dire placed the food on the coffee table, then sat in front of the sofa and began eating. When Iyan made no movements to join him, Dire reached up over his shoulder to poke the other man on the knee, “Hey. It’s getting cold.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Too bad,” said Dire, and took another bite of pancake. “I’ll be damned if I let you mope around like some annoying emo kid while I slave away making you breakfast to try and make you feel better for some reason.” A few seconds passed, then Iyan slid off the sofa to sit next to Dire on the floor. The blonde reached out to pull his plate closer, muttering under his breath, “I am not an emo kid.” Dire smiled, and poured himself some juice, “I know. That’s why I haven’t kicked you out yet.”
“That’s discriminatory, you know,” said Iyan, swallowing his bite of pancake, and looking up through the skylight. “Emo kids need a place to stay too.” Dire shrugged, and pushed away his empty plate, “They can go live on a farm together then, and write bad poetry and gripe about how no one understands their tortured white suburban souls.” Iyan snorted, and pushed away his half full plate, “Someone’s bitter.”
“Not bitter,” said Dire, standing and collecting the plates, “just don’t like them sitting around doing nothing instead of trying to fix their problems.”
“I don’t understand you.”
Iyan’s voice was so soft Dire almost missed it, and the older man turned around in surprise. The blonde was still sitting on the floor, looking at Dire with a weary expression. Dire stared back, slightly confused, “What’d you say?”
“I said,” said Iyan, louder this time, “I don’t get you, Alvarez. You go out of your way to make me feel better when clearly I’m the kind of person who annoys you. I just…” the blonde ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “I just don’t get how someone like you can even stand to be civil to me, let alone nice.”
Dire rolled his eyes, and set the plates down in the sink, “Look, it’s really not that hard. You’re not a bad guy half the time, when you’re not being all girly and emotional-“
“Fucker.”
“And besides,” Dire moved to sit next to Iyan on the floor, “I meant it when I said I understood what you’ve been through. Not personally, but…” it was Dire’s turn to trail off, and next to him Iyan exhaled slightly, “Now who’s being emotional?”“Yeah, yeah,” Dire waved a hand dismissively, staring around at the apartment. “That’s another reason I haven’t kicked you out yet; I need someone around who’s more fucked up than me to make me look good.” Iyan actually laughed at that, and the noise seemed to surprise him. Dire grinned back, inspiration suddenly hitting him. He stood up and reached a hand down to help Iyan up, which the blonde took after a moment’s hesitation. “Come on,” said the taller man, grinning like an idiot, “I have an idea.”