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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, xenocia !
Have the best day ever, no less :D
Don't forget:
to keep being awesome
that this Vince has never had a better Billy! <3
to party like a rockstar
and, of course,
Title: The Advantages of Killing Ancient Spiderman
Genre: Romance, humour, fluff.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Reita/Uruha
Synopsis: According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created wtih four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two seperate parts, condeming them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.
Comments: Birthday fic for xenocia ! Happy happy happy (and so on) birthday! <333
Reita and Uruha’s relationship often came off as fairly boring, as far as best friends go. At first glance, their only common element seemed to be their past- going to high school together, playing soccer together, finding themselves together. Now, they were radically different, but not in any of the interesting ways.
Uruha wasn’t exactly living dangerously. He was studying history and spent most of his days with his nose buried in a textbook about empires that had fallen millennia ago. He was far from being a social butterfly, usually stayed quiet unless spoken to, and liked his life to follow a strict, bland pattern.
Reita, on the other hand, was a high school drop-out, working four nights a week at a hardware store. Unlike Uruha, he went on many social outings, honing his skills with the fairer sex and training himself in the art of holding one’s booze.
If they had been an interesting pair, Uruha would be a sex-crazed megabitch, or a dude that mistook himself for a philosopher, or maybe he would simply own a very large swimming pool filled with money. Reita would be in with the yakuza, a stoic king of the underworld, but with a piratesque flavour, as he would have a parrot perched on his shoulder, spitting knives at anyone who crossed him.
Rather than being interesting, they were just Reita and Uruha. Uruha was just a loser studying what had already gone down, who happened to be the noisiest masturbator Reita had ever heard. Reita was also a loser, but at least he had friends.
He dragged Uruha out one night with those same friends, to a dingy little place that at least had good music. Uruha retreated to a corner in the very back of the room, seating himself in a booth and pressing himself into the corner formed by the wall and backrest.
When Reita had a girl draping herself over his back, Uruha glowered, unnoticed, and began to list all the reasons he outshone her under his breath. Not that he cared if Reita was getting some from that girl or not; he had simply been in Reita’s life longer and damn it, he was going to preserve his position as best friend at any cost. He was, after all, the only one privileged enough to know that Reita had been a virgin until 23, and not 16 like he told everyone else.
Reita bought that girl drinks throughout the night, had her very complete attention, until Reita made it very obvious that despite all the practice, he was a total lightweight. He consequently expelled the contents of his stomach onto her shoes.
It was Uruha who then brought him home, patted him on the back and told him there were other fish in the sea (for puking on). Reita didn’t exactly have the energy to be offended at such a comment. It was Uruha who lead him to his room where he was safe to pass out for the night, and it was Uruha who pulled the blanket over his chin and turned the light off for him.
Considering that he had been too busy hating women for their evil Uruha’s-only-real-friend-stealing schemes to get really drunk the night before, he was in pretty good shape the following morning and was up as early as usual, textbooks and notepads spread out over the kitchen table.
Late in the afternoon, Reita joined Uruha in the kitchen, but only after rolling out of bed and onto the floor with a thud.
“Did you sleep well?” Uruha asked. Reita stared, eyelids heavy, mouth cottony, and life sucking. Well, he thought so.
“Do you think the entire table belongs to you?” Reita commented sourly. It wasn’t as if he would even need the table. The last thing he wanted was to eat with a throbbing headache and a flip-flopping stomach.
“Well, yes, but I’ll let you have a chair.” Uruha replied, motioning for Reita to sit. There was another thud as Reita dropped himself onto the chair with as little grace as possible. “Listen to this.” Uruha reached for a book and opened it to a page with a corner folded down, and began to read.
The excerpt Uruha had found so interesting seemed to stretch on forever and with every word Reita’s mind ached. He felt as though there was simply too much being contained in his head, and it was going to burst at any moment.
“You’re not listening.” Uruha sighed. Reita blinked stupidly at him.
“Can’t you like, summarize it or something?”
“Basically... this guy, Plato, says that originally, there were three sexes of human people. Men, women, and hermaphrodites-”
“Lady Gaga isn’t that old-”
“-who had four arms, four legs, and two faces on either side of the same head.”
“So like an ancient Spiderman, or-”
“They were very powerful, and the Gods were afraid they would be able to take over. So Zeus proposed that they split all the hermaphrodites in half, which would, eventually, come to create the men and women that exist today.”
“He killed Spiderman? What a douchebag.”
“Thus, the men and women were left seeking their other half eternally.”
“What does this have to do with anything? Are you trying to tell me the girl last night wasn’t my other half?”
“Well, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a girl-” Uruha started, flipping a page.
“You just said men and women. I’m a man-” Reita protested.
“It says, ‘And also, if male met with male they might have satiety of their union and a relief, and so might turn their hands to their labors and their interest to ordinary life. Thus anciently is mutual love ingrained in mankind, reassembling our early estate and endeavoring to combine two in one and heal the human sore.’” Uruha said, eyeing Reita rather creepily over the edge of his book.
Reita, less than comfortable with Uruha watching him like that, replied, “That means nothing to me, man.”
“It means your other half doesn’t half to be a woman, not necessarily.” Uruha snapped impatiently. In response to Reita’s blank stare, he added, “It could be, say, me.”
“Oh. Well,” Reita cleared his throat, feeling his own pulse in his cheeks, which were surely glowing pink now. “I mean, it makes sense,” he continued, voice faltering, before his face was split by a smile.
Uruha had to smile, too. It seemed to him like he had just taken care of those women vying for Reita’s attention, and found his other half in the same moment.
“Let me know when you get over your hangover,” Uruha drawled, “and we can heal our human sore together.”
A/N: Big, smooshy hugs to ebur (for the much-needed prompt) and a_happy_twat (for being my crutches throughout the development of the entire fic)! The quote is from Plato’s Symposium, which you can read more of here (the excerpt Uruha reads starts at 189d.)
And of course, happy birthday once again! <3