Chapter Ten
[ How I'm feeling|
Blah]
[ What I'm listening to| http://8tracks.com/corruptmalice/finish-what-you-started Playlist~*~*~*~*~
Title: Hide and seek (10/10)
Pairings: Aoi/Uruha
Warnings: None....again you say? taha
Rating: R-NC-17 (rating will change from chapter to chapter)
Summary: Chasing you was like chasing the wind, the more I ran after you, the farther away you got. I always ended up empty handed.
Aoi walked from the room, his face and his temper burning red hot. He straightened his shirt as he stood in front of the practice room door and contemplated just leaving the building. He was already in too much hot water with the company and now Uruha hated him. His life was in the gutter at the moment, so what was a little more damage done by walking out? He'd be hurting no one but himself. He could see the rest of the band setting up their instruments, talking and laughing, except for Uruha who sat in the corner biting his nails and staring at the floor distractedly.
He decided maybe there was at least one person he would hurt by walking out and he'd hurt him enough as it was. He sucked up his feelings, put his ego away, and walked into the practice room. Immediately the din of voices he'd heard from outside quieted and he scoffed at how obvious it was that everyone knew he was spiraling at the moment. Uruha was the only one that didn't turn to look at him, but when he sat down next to him, Uruha leaned in close.
"Are you okay?" That one utterance served to calm Aoi down a little and he nodded when Uruha looked up at him, his face tired and drawn.
He'd been so afraid that after the rejection of this morning, Uruha would continue the silence. It was hard for him to keep Uruha's steady gaze as he remembered the way Uruha had looked up at him in bed, ready and willing to give him everything if he would just take it. He had never deserved that sort of loyalty from anyone.
"I'll be okay, " He muttered, forcing a little smile and when Uruha decided that he was indeed going to survive, he turned away and focused his attention to more important things.
Aoi watched him setting up his equipment with what felt like a stone in his stomach. He figured this was Uruha's way of saying that they were through on all levels but Aoi had always been a brat and though he knew he deserved Uruha's turned back, it was hard to accept it.
"Have lunch with me later on. My treat," Aoi tried, feeling every ounce the bastard and idiot he knew he was.
Uruha stopped mid-motion of cleaning the neck of his guitar and pinned Aoi with a hard stare. The look was so cold and empty of the usual warmth and amusement that made Uruha the person he was, that Aoi almost shrunk back into his seat. Uruha seemed a stranger staring back at him in that moment.
"Why?" Uruha asked. It took Aoi a second to recover from Uruha's uncaring glance, but he pushed on once he saw that Uruha was at least listening to him.
"I think we need to talk," Aoi muttered, swallowing down the self-loathing he felt, knowing he had no right to ask anything of Uruha at this point.
"We've done enough talking. We know where we stand with each other." Uruha cleared his throat and then turned back to his guitar and continued wiping it down.
"I don't know where we stand, Uru." Aoi couldn't help the pleading tone that crept into his voice and he felt his face flush with embarrassment, but Uruha looked up at him and cocked his eyebrow questioningly.
"Listen-" He began, trying to turn the conversation in his favor, but Reita had come up behind Uruha and Uruha turned away again to talk to him, and the momentary hope Aoi had of talking things out with Uruha was quietly snuffed out.
He sat through practice and made minimal effort to appear normal. He wasn't anywhere near the top of his game. He was down on the ground and with each silent glance or dismissive shoulder from Uruha, he felt himself being pressed down even further, slowly crushed. He knew he was jeopardizing his career and he could feel management's watchful eye on him.
They had told them that if he kept slipping, if his performance wasn't his top priority, he'd be dealt with accordingly. He was almost sure they thought he needed to be thrown into some sort of rehab, but the problem wasn't anything of that sort. It was more complex than that.
He'd been drinking more heavily lately, but the root of his bad behavior was that he hadn't been able to deal with the person sitting next to him and now that he wanted to deal with him, Uruha had decided he was out of chances. So where did that leave him?
He grabbed up his bag at the end of practice and began to head towards the door, intent on being the first one to the local bar. Maybe he'd even be there before the early drinkers started to trickle in. At least he'd be spending a night in the company of like-minded individuals. No one there was ever happy with their life or their choices. Uruha brushed past him as he was heading out the door and without turning around, he motioned for Aoi to follow him.
"Hurry up. I'm starving," Uruha told him as he headed toward his car. Aoi stared at Uruha's retreating back with a mixture of confusion and elation. He had fully expected Uruha to continue treating him like the bastard he was. He didn't deserve to be heard out at this point.
"Are you coming or not?" Uruha called from across the parking lot and Aoi broke into a jog as Uruha revved the engine of his car.
************
As they sat down to lunch, Uruha's gaze was still chilly, but beneath the ice, Aoi felt calculation and a careful hesitation. He hadn't realized just how much he had hurt Uruha over the past few months, but he was beginning to see that it was more than he would ever be able to make up for. Uruha had lost any sort of trust in him.
"Just water," Uruha told their waiter as Aoi was served strong, black coffee in an attempt to keep sleep at bay. The last time he'd had a good night's sleep had been the night he'd passed out drunk at Uruha's place. Since then, he'd felt more zombie than human.
"If you're here to try to repair our friendship, don't bother. We're past all that. I'm tired of this game., Uruha told him, refusing to meet Aoi's eye as he drew shapes against his napkin with the pen he usually kept in his pocket for bouts of inspiration. Aoi watched him drawing little stick figures and characters for a few moments before clearing his throat and deciding that he'd done enough to fuck things up and whatever he said now, would be better than staying silent and letting things simmer between them as they were.
"I know I've really messed up here-"
Uruha tched, glancing up at him with a scowl, and then going back to his drawing. Aoi took a deep breath and ran his hand through his mussed hair before pushing on.
"I nearly got canned-"
"They're not going to kick you out for being an asshole, Aoi. You're too important for that. But maybe rehab would do you some good," Uruha cut in, tossing his pen carelessly to the side. The pen rolled and hit Aoi's hand and he looked at it, feeling his stomach do a turn as the scents of the cafe collided into a sickening fusion of coffee, sugar, and frying eggs.
"It's my fucking fault you're doing this anyway. So let's just end it all now and stomach each other until the band falls through." Uruha was nearly yelling now, drawing glances from the few people sitting around the cafe and at any other time, Aoi would have ducked his head in embarrassment.
He didn't care how they looked at that moment because there were more important things than how people saw him or what they would think of him. He grabbed Uruha's wrist when he made to stand, and Uruha looked down at his hand and then back to his face with a frown.
"Is that how you really want it?" Aoi asked softly and he could see how confused and torn Uruha was by the way his gaze darted to the side and then he tugged his wrist from Aoi's hand and sat back down heavily.
"No. But it's the only way things can be," Uruha muttered, shoulders curving forward as he slumped against the table and buried his face in his hands.
"We've tried and we just keep fucking things up. I can't keep waiting for you, and you can't keep pretending to care," Uruha's voice was muffled against his palms but Aoi could hear the brokenness too clearly.
"I think it would be better this way...if we just say goodbye now." Uruha slid his hands down his face and then looked up at Aoi, and the look on his face was as broken as his voice had been. Goodbye, after all, was the saddest word in the world.
"Just tell me one thing." Uruha gaze could have burned a whole right through Aoi's face and he felt the deep anger Uruha had been carrying around with him these past months of hide and seek. Aoi had felt it too, the loathing not at Uruha, but at himself for having stepped into this and then not having the balls to step away or to give Uruha what he wanted.
"Did she leave you? Is that the reason you came crawling back?" Uruha asked softly.
It was a nasty remark but Uruha seemed genuinely curious about the reason Aoi had decided he was worth his time again and Aoi felt the back of his neck heat in embarrassment. He didn't want to tell Uruha that Mariko had eventually called him back, wanting to reignite whatever fire they'd started between them in the park that day. He didn't know how to tell Uruha that he hadn't given her an answer yet.
"I wanted to work things out between us because I care about you and I care about what happens after we leave here," Aoi said and felt his heart drop as Uruha scoffed and looked away. He stared out the window for some time and Aoi let him, watching the coffee cooling beside his wrist. Finally, Uruha stirred and pushed his coffee away from him.
"I think if you had cared, none of this would have happened. And if I had been less of an idiot this definitely wouldn't have happened." Uruha slid out of the booth and grabbed up his shoulder bag with an angry, jerky movement.
"Let's just stick with your original plan and act like nothing ever happened,” Uruha muttered before leaving Aoi sitting there staring at his retreating back.
It had begun to rain and Aoi leaned his head against the window and watched the water sliding down the pane in rivulets. He always carried an umbrella during the summer months, but Uruha, always the more scatter-brained of them, usually forgot his umbrella in the entryway of his apartment.
Aoi sighed and pushed himself away from the booth. He could have run after Uruha with the excuse of sharing an umbrella as they usually had in the past, but he knew that Uruha would only reject him again. He stood outside under the awning of the building for a moment, breathing in the earthy smell of rain and warm asphalt before throwing caution to the wind and hailing a taxi.
Uruha shivered and tried to wrap his light jacket tighter around himself but the gesture was useless, and so was the kindness of the lady outside of his apartment building who had handed him a tissue. He tched under his breath as he wiped the dripping water from his face. His hair and clothes were soaked through from the long jog back to his car from the cafe and the air from the apartment building was freezing.
He had only found a very small part of him willing to feel guilt over leaving Aoi at the cafe without a ride home. Aoi had friends and even a few lovers all over the city that would drop what they were doing for him. Uruha had no such luxury because he'd turned his back on almost everyone who wasn't Aoi these past months of playing the good guy.
He trudged up the staircase, dripping water and creating puddles on the steps as he went. The bitter part of him wanted one of his nosy neighbors to slip in the water and go barreling down the staircase. He was sure it wouldn't hurt as much as his chest hurt then. Ever since he'd decided to stop giving Aoi chances and just move on, there had been a knife slowly twisting in his chest and gut and with each thought of Aoi, it seemed to dig just a bit deeper. He wanted to lock himself away inside of his cool, dark apartment and sleep until the pain went away.
He stopped mid-step as he came from the stairwell and stared at the figure leaning against the wall beside his door. In the semi-dark, he wasn't sure who it was, but when the figure moved into the circle of light coming from the stairwell, he frowned.
"What are you doing here? How the hell do you know where I live?" His voice was loud and angry and he knew he came off as an intimidating figure right then as the woman shrank back against the wall. She had no right being here and he wondered if she'd somehow stolen his address from Aoi. A sudden image of the woman naked, wrapped in Aoi's sheets, looking through Aoi's phone as Aoi took an after sex shower, suddenly came to mind. He was beginning to see red.
"I came to ask you something. You never gave me a straight answer." Mariko twisted her hands together nervously. She seemed such a different person than the woman he had met that night at Ruki's party when she had been arrogant and self- assured and ready to challenge him for Aoi if need be.
"I gave you the only answer I could," He muttered as he brushed past her and unlocked the door to his apartment, his face and neck flushed with anger. He was just about to close the door in her face when she said something that made him stop and turn to look at her curiously.
"You really are clueless, aren't you?" She said, looking over at him with something like sadness sitting quiet and still in her dark eyes.
*************
Aoi stood under an awning, shaking water from his umbrella and wondering if he should even attempt what he was about to do. It would be a little like suicide and he wasn't sure if he was brave enough to go through with that sort of leap. He made his decision as a man walked through the door beside him and he caught the door with his foot before it closed. He had been standing here in front of Uruha's building for over half an hour and the door hadn't opened once. He knew Uruha would just ignore him if he tried calling.
This seemed to be the sign he'd been looking for as he'd counted down the street signs from the taxi window as he neared Uruha's apartment. He was sure some cosmic being would stop him from making it here. Maybe the taxi would get a flat tire, maybe he'd take a wrong turn and they'd end up lost, maybe no one would ever open that apartment building door. But things had fallen into place more easily than they ever had before. It was a nice push in the back for him.
He slipped through the door and took the stairwell two steps at a time until he'd reached Uruha's floor. He stopped in the hallway to catch his breath and was thinking about knocking on Uruha's door and facing the wrath of someone who probably hated him now, but before he could knock, the door opened and Mariko walked out and over her shoulder was Uruha's surprised face.
Aoi felt like he'd been kicked in the gut as he stood there dumbly staring at his ex girlfriend and his best friend turned lover, coming out of the same apartment. Mariko gave him a look as she brushed past him but she didn't stop to say anything and she continued on down the stairwell. Aoi felt a sudden flare of anger and he turned on Uruha with fire in his eyes.
"What the fuck was that?" Aoi growled and the look of shock on Uruha's face slowly faded to the bored apathy he usually wore around most people.
"What are you doing here, Aoi?" Uruha asked softly.
"Did you fuck her?" Aoi blurted out and watched as Uruha's face went through a myriad of emotions, none of them nice or pleasant. He didn't care if Uruha hated him in that moment. All he could think of was Uruha in bed with his ex and suddenly he couldn't stop the shaking in his hands.
"Is thatwhat you think?" Uruha laughed bitterly, condescendingly and then turned on his heel to go back inside.
When Aoi tried to follow him, Uruha sighed and blocked the doorway, his face suddenly red with anger. But Aoi refused to back down from this suicide mission. He could feel Uruha's livid anger like electricity rushing over the skin of his arms and neck and he wanted to break himself against that anger. He felt reckless and willing to do whatever it took to make things right and at the same time, he wanted answers to what he'd just witnessed.
"And what if I had?" Uruha challenged, but the threat never made it to his eyes, and Aoi could see the truth there.
"I would never do that to you. Is that what you think of me? I wouldn't fuck with anything you love, Aoi. I wouldn't do that you." Uruha stabbed the air in front of Aoi's face with his finger, lips pinched tight, nostrils flaring, eyes....watering.....just a little. Aoi sucked in a breath and stepped away from Uruha, felt Uruha's anger ebb some until Aoi was able to breathe again without Uruha taking all the air from this space.
"Then what was she doing here?" Aoi asked, swallowing hard, feeling his resolve crack into tiny fissures. A few more blows from Uruha's words and he would find himself following Mariko down the stairwell, out into the rain, and that would be the end of everything.
"She decided to tell me a few lies, lies that I wish you would tell me sometimes because they're easier to take than the truthm" Uruha muttered.
Aoi wondered at these lies that Mariko had told Uruha. What sort of lies could be the good sort? The sort that Uruha wanted to hear? His head hurt as the blood rushed to it. He didn't understand anything Uruha was telling him. All he heard was that Uruha wanted him gone, and that whatever friendship they had held in the past had been tramped into the dirt.
Uruha's knuckles were white where his fingers held onto the door-frame beside him as if he were holding up his entire body there. Aoi wanted to reach out, to pull him against him and hold him until this was all some horrible nightmare, a faded memory that they'd somehow muddled for reality.
"Aoi, please just go," Uruha suddenly pleaded, brow furrowing. Uruha squeezed his eyes closed tight and he pushed himself away from the door-frame. Aoi followed him into the house and closed the door behind them. He knew he should just leave Uruha to his own devices, but he also knew that this would probably be the last chance he would have to clean up this mess.
"I don't want you here. I don't want you to come after me." Uruha sighed into his hands, fingers grasping messy strands of hair and pulling as he sat down heavily on the couch.
"I didn't touch your precious cargo." Uruha laid his head back on the couch, eyes still closed.
Aoi noticed the way his skin had a fine sheen of sweat on it and his face looked exhausted....sick. He remembered the way Uruha had left the cafe without an umbrella, had been soaked to the bone he was sure. He chanced a light touch to Uruha's forehead and discovered what he'd already known....Uruha was burning up.
He felt the fight go out of him with a tired sigh. They were making themselves sick over each other, and he was only making it worse, the more he pushed for the forgiveness he knew he wouldn't get. Uruha wanted nothing to do with him and he was beginning to understand that he would have to accept that and try to move on. But first, he was going to take care of the mess he had made.
"You're going to bed," Aoi muttered even as Uruha pinned him with a hard glare.
"What?" Uruha asked sharply, pulling away from Aoi's touch.
"I'm tired of arguing, so don't fight me." He gave Uruha a pointed look and Uruha seemed to understand then that it would be no use going against him.
He saw he resolution in Uruha's flushed face. In the end, if Aoi really needed to overpower Uruha for his health, he could and would do so easily. Uruha gave him another death glare, but let Aoi lead him to the bedroom anyway. Aoi made sure he was in bed with a cup of warm lemon, honey tea and the cold medicine Aoi found shoved to the back of Uruha's medicine cabinet, before leaving him to himself.
When he checked his phone, he found an old message he'd somehow missed. It was dated for the day he'd turned his phone off and decided to disappear into a beer bottle for a while. Of course the message had been lost among all the other worried and angry calls and messages he'd received from everyone. He had already listened to his friends and then Uruha pleading with him, yelling at him, and then ultimately cursing him for being an idiot and not answering, but this message…
Aoi leaned against the wall in the hallway, watching as Uruha tossed and turned in bed, sick and feverish, and he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. Uruha's voice in the message was exhausted after all the yelling he had done. It was the voice of someone giving up after a long struggle. He could hear the pain behind it and that was perhaps what brought up a feeling he'd never quite felt before. He bit into his bottom lip as he listened to Uruha's voice and his heart beat wildly in his chest.
"I don't know what to do anymore, Aoi. I want to push you away but you keep coming back to me and it's killing me.
I can't do this anymore.
At least let me know that you're alright.
Don't you know how I feel about you?"
The last bit of it was almost whispered, but Aoi caught it and then the message was over, and Aoi was left with silence and the dark and Uruha in the next room, hating him...loving him in whatever warped way he could. He was so confused, unsure of what exactly it was that Uruha felt for him. One moment Uruha had been wanting something he could give easily- his body. The next moment, Uruha was digging deeper and pulling up things Aoi had never felt comfortable with giving to anyone- the truth. For a moment, memories, thoughts, voices, came rushing back to him.
He could hear music playing somewhere in his mind, could feel Uruha's fingers against his wrist, heard his voice whispering "I know" in that enigmatic way he had about him sometimes. He could see him mouthing the words "rewind us", but the memory seemed jerky, fogged by the alcoholic stupor they'd fallen into that night. Things were coming back to him, things he'd tried so hard to push to the back of his mind because they were painful and oh so dangerous; the taste of Uruha's lips against his mouth, pulling his scarf tightly around his neck like a noose of his own making,
"It can just be sex."
The lights of the batting cage, shining against Uruha's flushed face, the feel of Uruha's naked body against him for the very first time, his pulse racing too fast,
"You're acting like a man in love, Aoi."
Prim feet stuffed into pretty pink shoes, the feeling of sickness washing through him because it wasn't what he wanted, Uruha grinning at him like it was all some sort of morbid joke,
"Afraid of monsters?"
The feel of Uruha in his arms outside of the theater, the feeling of being breathless from kissing Uruha, the need for more than either of them could handle,
"I gave it all up for you and you can’t do the same."
And then he was pulling Uruha back from the curb, away from certain death, and he was seeing for the first time, Uruha's face grinning down at him, and for a moment....he remembered the thought that had drifted by in that heart-pounding moment, before he'd quickly snuffed it and forgot it.
His thought was that he'd never seen a more beautiful face, that look on Uruha, wide eyes and parted lips and the way his expression had settled into smug recognition....mutual attraction for just a small second before they became "just friends" and later "band mates".
It had all happened so quickly he'd never given it another thought, but now that he was alone with the mess they had made, he realized, they'd been heading towards this ending since the very beginning. There had always been something there and it was just that Uruha had had the balls to put it into motion before Aoi had ever thought of doing it. And everything that had happened since then had been pointing the way to something important and Aoi had just been too stupid to see it for what it really was.
Aoi took the couch as he had the night Uruha had gotten plastered and he'd somehow managed to restrain himself from being a bastard. Why couldn't he do that now? Why couldn't he just leave with the last amount of dignity he had left? It was because he was in too deep and he knew the only way out was going to be painful and Aoi had always hated pain and confrontation. And yet still he found himself sitting there on Uruha's couch with his chin in his hands, waiting for the sky to fall.
**************
Uruha lay in bed listening to the wind-chimes on the balcony. They rattled with each gust of wind and through the window he could see lightening in brilliant flashes behind the shadowed buildings. There was something peaceful about watching a storm blow through and knowing that he was safe behind these walls. He pulled the covers up to his chin and breathed in the scent of fresh rain and disappointment.
He'd downed so much medicine he wondered why it hadn't started seeping from his pores yet. Aoi had made sure he'd taken everything possible for a cold and then had set himself up as a guard in the living room. At least the fever had broken during the night and he was no longer burning up.
This scene felt familiar, he in this bed alone and Aoi on the couch, as if Uruha had some sort of virtue he had to protect. He scoffed at the idea of any sort of innocence being left to him as he peered through the small crack in his door. Everything was still and dark. He wondered if Aoi had been able to get any sleep and he suddenly felt guilty for having kept him here.
Though it had been Aoi's decision to stay, Uruha could have easily told him to go home. There was something comforting knowing that someone was there in the next room, warm and breathing and waiting for him. He'd been alone so much over the last few years, he'd almost forgotten that feeling of having someone near him in the middle of the night.
He wiped the dampness from his forehead with the back of his hand, the last remnants of his fever, and then pushed the heavy blankets aside. The tea Aoi had brought him hours ago, sat cooling on the nightstand and so he picked the cup up and brought it with him to the kitchen. Aoi had indeed stayed over and was curled up on the couch, his phone blinking with missed calls and messages on the table beside him.
Uruha shook his head and continued on to the kitchen where he dumped the cold tea out into the sink and then washed the cup. The traffic outside was slow, but he could still hear the few scattered cars rushing through the wet streets, flinging water onto the sidewalks, could hear the distant sounds of traffic lights chirping as the world began to come awake.
"You really love her don't you?" Uruha said softly as he set the cup inside the drying rack and then leaned his hands against the sink. He could feel Aoi just behind him and when he turned around, he found Aoi behind the island counter, bleary eyes and his hair ruffled in the dawn half-light.
"You should still be in bed," Aoi told him, his voice still scratchy from sleep. Uruha scoffed and poured Aoi a glass of water and then slid it to him over the counter.
"I feel fine," Uruha muttered, watching Aoi down the water in one swallow. When Aoi was done, Uruha filled the glass again with cold water from the fridge and drank it down himself. His throat was still a little sore and his mouth felt dry, but other than that, he felt that the cold had been a short-lived thing.
"Still, you shouldn't push it," Aoi argued, eying him with concern.
"And no I don't love her," Aoi added softly and then seemed to watch for a reaction that never came.
Uruha only shrugged as if it didn't matter either way, and turned to put the water back in the fridge, trying to keep his hands busy because his mind was running wild with questions he didn't know how to ask, and he was afraid he was going to break at any moment. He had never loved anyone until Aoi, but he knew that loving someone meant fighting for that person even if you knew you were going to lose. He knew that Aoi didn't love him, no matter what the woman had tried to suggest. He knew where Aoi's interests were, somewhere far away from Uruha's bed and he was too tired of fighting to keep this ruse up.
"Funny. You were so angry after you thought I had slept with her," Uruha replied cattily. "I don't think I've ever seen you so angry." He avoided eye contact, avoided the inevitable confrontation of his own feelings as he kept his back to Aoi.
"Can you at least look at me when you talk to me?" Aoi told him and Uruha suddenly felt a hand on his arm, pulling him around to face him, but Uruha slipped his arm free and kept his back to Aoi.
"I'm so fucking tired of chasing you, Aoi," Uruha muttered, feeling the last thread of restraint in him snap.
"What?" Aoi asked softly.
"In the beginning, I wanted you so much. I didn't even know it was you I wanted, but I figured out pretty fast it wasn't just the sex. But the more I chased you, the more you pulled away. And now that I don't want this anymore, you decide to let me catch you?" Uruha turned around and raised an imploring eyebrow.
The look on Aoi's face nearly tore down his anger before he could even build it up. Aoi looked beaten but Uruha felt ruined from the inside out. His body still wanted Aoi more than it had wanted anyone else before, but he was fighting against it because he needed more than what everyone else had given him over the years. He was more than any of this.
"I'm an idiot-" Aoi muttered.
"We both know that," Uruha cut in sharply and Aoi could only shrug at the truth.
"We have to figure out where to go from here. We can't just keep running circles around each other." Uruha closed his eyes and felt his fingernails digging into the palm of his hands.
He felt the familiar need to run wash through him, but they needed to finish this now. They were either going to fall apart right here on this kitchen floor or they were going to walk away and they would both fall apart in arms that felt too cold after what they'd shared beneath Uruha's sheets. He knew their options were limited at this point. He had been slowly turning into the monster beneath Aoi's bed and Aoi had been descending into his own hell lately. They couldn't survive this way, repeating these lonely rituals.
"Uru, I wasn't mad about her," Aoi muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and Uruha saw a warmth beginning to spread all over his face. Uruha's brow creased and he stopped his hands from fidgeting angrily long enough to lean against the counter between them and study Aoi closely.
"I'm listening."
"I was mad because I thought someone else had touched you," Aoi growled. "Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Uruha was silent for a long moment, eyes running over Aoi as if he wasn't sure he could believe him. After all, Aoi had been playing the same game with him that he loved playing with every unfortunate person that crossed his path. Uruha knew that game very well.
"It wasn't even the fact that you might have slept with her to get back at me," Aoi continued. "It was that I thought you had slept with someone else period that made me see red. I can't stand the thought of anyone else having you."
"Don't just say shit because you think I want to hear it. I want the truth," Uruha demanded, hands strained into fists where they rested on the counter.
"That is the truth!" Aoi looked helpless, imploring Uruha to understand him.
"Lie to me some more," Uruha hissed, turning away again, anticipating the hands that grabbed him back, but this time he didn't pull away. Something kept him there, pliant, letting Aoi pull him into the circle of his arms.
"What is it going to take for you to believe me? Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Aoi breathed, his face too close, his hands too hard on the small of his back.
"I don't know if this can be fixed, Aoi. Please....just....."
"Please, what?" Aoi whispered, "What do you want, Uru? Just tell me and I'll do it. I'll be do anything, be anything you want."
Uruha could see a desperation in Aoi's face that had his heart beating like a drum inside his chest. He felt breathless, confused, unsure of everything. There was something in Aoi's face that made him think of the stomach dropping fear he'd felt when he first realized what he really wanted from Aoi, the nausea that came with knowing this was more than sex, more than either of them would ever be able to give one another. It was a feeling of helplessness, of knowing the end was coming on fast.
"I don't want you to be anything," He whispered. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to crawl back into his bed and curl into himself until everything went away, until it all became a dark numbness and he wasn't forced to feel things he couldn't control.
"I love you," Aoi suddenly blurted out, fingers pressing harder into his skin, his face going even more red in the dim light of the kitchen.
"I feel sick," Uruha breathed, staring into Aoi's beet red face, and leaning more heavily into Aoi's arms until Aoi was forced to prop him against the counter behind them. He felt the room tilt just a little and he wasn't sure if it was Aoi's awkward confession or the fever he felt coming back with a suddenness.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Aoi worried over him, and the desperation was gone just like that. It was as if those words had never been spoken, as if he hadn't laid his heart out on the counter for Uruha to butcher.
"You shouldn't even be out here," Aoi chastised, and Uruha nodded in agreement and let Aoi lead him back to bed, so very careful as if he were going to crumble to the floor at any moment, and he did feel like doing just that, but he made it to the bed without incident, and groaned as he sank back into the bed. He even tolerated Aoi moping his forehead with a wet cloth and forcing more codeine laced medicine into his mouth that would have him out in minutes.
"Don't worry. I won't push you anymore. I'm sorry. I'm done with everything," He heard Aoi say as he stood in the doorway, and his face, drawn, and wet was the last thing Uruha saw before he drifted back into a fitful sleep.
The first thought in his head upon waking was,
Aoi.
Uruha sat up quickly, pushing the warm, heavy blankets away from his sweating body and looked around the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. It was night again, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he'd slept through another day. His heart was racing in his chest and he felt a strange panic in the pit of his stomach.
He's left.
He remembered Aoi telling him that he was done with everything before he'd gone to sleep and he was sure now that Aoi had left, and if he had left, it truly was the end of...this. For someone who had wanted this all to go away, the sudden dread he felt at the thought of Aoi giving up, told a much different story. He bolted out of bed even though his legs nearly gave out from weakness and he had to grab onto the frame of the door before he fell. He caught his breath and stood shaking slightly, from adrenaline and the aftereffects of illness.
The sudden rush of relief winded him as he spotted the dark figure sprawled out on a pallet near the couch. Aoi had pulled all the blankets and pillows from his closets and made a sort of pallet fort on the floor and Uruha's eyes stung in a mixture of gratitude and confusion.
"So stupid," He breathed, looking down at the man he'd known and loved and hated all in the span of a few years, a few months, and he still wasn't sure what he should feel.
But he remembered a couple of awkwardly placed words in a dark kitchen and he felt something like calm settle in his chest. Such a strange feeling after all the fighting, the yelling, the confusion. He couldn't believe that Aoi had actually stayed, had staked his place here though he knew that Uruha was only going to reject him. There was a comfort in that somehow. Uruha shook his head and knelt down next to Aoi.
Aoi had pulled the sheets over his head and he carefully tugged the sheets away and settled down to lay behind him, placing his cheek to the pillow next to Aoi's dark hair. He slipped his arms around Aoi's waist and breathed in the scent of Aoi, slowly. There was something tugging at him, inside his chest, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to walk away, no matter what he had told himself, what he had felt was the right thing to do. There was no right way to do anything in the end. He curled himself against Aoi's back and held onto whatever Aoi had left him.
"Do you really love me?" He whispered, not expecting Aoi to hear him as his fingers picked at the edge of Aoi's shirt. But Aoi eventually did stir, coming back to life slowly, and he moved aside some as Aoi turned over onto his back and looked over at him blearily.
"Is this a trick question?" Aoi asked him, suspiciously. Uruha smiled over at him as he answered,
"No."
"You were ready to kill me earlier," Aoi reminded him and Uruha only shrugged as if suddenly it all made sense but in reality, he had no answers for anything that had happened between them these past months and it was all as confusing as it had ever been. A;; he knew was that he knew he wanted what he wanted, and the more he tried to kill that need, the stronger it became.
“You just don't get it, Aoi. You've never fought for anything in your life. Things just fall into your lap.” Even as he said this, the desire to lean forward and kiss Aoi was there, as it always was when they were together. He could feel the heat from Aoi's body and wanted to press into it. He wanted to finish what they'd started and at the same time, he didn't want this to end. He wasn't sure who he would be if he didn't have Aoi in his life.
“I'm fighting for you now.” There was a pleading lilt in Aoi's voice that he'd only heard a few times before, and every single one of those times, they'd been red0-faced and angry at each other, hurting because of one another. Aoi wanted him to back down, and that stubborn part of Uruha, the part that got him slapped in the face and yelled at by most of his lovers, couldn't give anyone the upper hand.
“Uru, please.”
Say it.
“Isn't it a little too late for that?”
Just say it.
“God, you're so frustrating. If you looked around, you'd see that everything, everyone falls into your lap as well.” Aoi growled, “ Look at me. You have me on the floor of your apartment. You could say anything, do anything to me, and I'd smile at you and let you.” Uruha's breathing hitched as Aoi touched his face, fingers curling against his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek.
“I fucking love you. I meant it then and I mean it now. I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me it's over. We'll figure this out somehow if you let me love you,” Aoi's thumb stopped stroking his cheek and he realized that he'd nearly bitten through his bottom lip. He was bleeding and Aoi frowned, using the corner of the blanket around him to wipe the specks of blood away gently. It was strange that he couldn't feel any pain from the cut but all he could feel was a weightlessness, an all encompassing feeling of finally getting what he wanted out of someone.
“Is it over?” Aoi asked him softly.
Uruha wasn't sure how to string words together at that moment in a way that would mean anything to either of them and so he just leaned into Aoi's hand on his face and pressed his lips to Aoi's mouth. He'd come to realize that it would never be over, that it was no use running from something they both wanted. He felt Aoi shift beneath him and then suddenly he was straddling Aoi, kissing him hard, taking the breath from him, and leaving bruises against his arms.
“Promise me that this is real,” Uruha breathed, pulling away, fingers trembling the slightest bit where they held Aoi's face immobile.
There was something terrifying in wanting something so much and finally getting it in the end. It didn't feel genuine, felt like it could break apart at any moment. His heart was intent on tearing through his chest as he held Aoi and demanded promises. Already he was demanding the world from Aoi, probably always would as long as they were here, wrapped around one another, and he wondered if Aoi would be able to handle this, handle him.
Aoi laughed softly and brought his face back down to him by the back of the neck. Uruha felt that weightlessness begin to spread out once again as Aoi kissed him. He pulled away when it got to be too much and tilted his head back, eyes closed tight, maybe he was smiling, maybe he had finally lost it because he heard Aoi laughing again.
“You looked the same way the day we met, like you were praying,” Aoi suddenly told him, and Uruha looked down at him in confusion, wracking his mind for that day in the street, the praying that Aoi claimed he had been doing.
“You were so happy to be alive. It looked like you were praying, though there was a bit of a mean smirk on your face afterward.” Aoi smiled, poking him in the side and Uruha laughed, rolling off of him and licking his lips, tasting Aoi there, feeling Aoi there, needing him to stay just there on his bottom lip.
“I was doing what I'm doing now,” Uruha explained softly. “Trying to keep myself from wanting you so much.” Aoi smiled wider at that and then pulled him back, making up for lost time, fitting the missing pieces of themselves together, the way they had always meant to fit.
End.
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A/N: I had been prompted to update/finish this story before the end of the year and of course that never happened. Soooo sorry! This is waaaay waaaaaay overdue. But I've ended it now, and thank you so much to those of you who have followed along. I hope you had fun along the way :)