[Fic] Double Shot Espresso: Part 3/4
Title: Double Shot Espresso
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): KuroFai
Summary: People watching can certainly result in interesting relationships. [AU]
“Okay, quick! Tell me your favourite book, movie and food!” Fai ginned deviously over the lip of his ceramic tea cup. The rising plumes of steam seemed to shroud his eyes in a hazy shadow as he stared intently and unabashedly into Kurogane’s. The blond couldn’t help but think how funny it was to see the other man so flustered.
The crimson-eyed male blinked in surprise, nearly dropping his small cup full of espresso. It took him a moment to register what Fai had just said. “You’re making this sound like a date, idiot!” he snorted, staring intently at the table like it was the most interesting thing he had seen in his life. “This is not a date,” he huffed.
Fai stuck his lower lip out in a mock pout. He placed his cup down and leaned back in his chair, trying to look as crushed as he could manage without bursting into fits of laughter. “Oh, Kuro-pii, don’t you like me?” he whimpered, opening his eyes a little wider and hoping they looked watery.
Oh, and Kurogane’s reaction was simply priceless.
“Wha-I... I mean... what did I tell you about those stupid nicknames?!” he snapped, face and ears flushing bright red and not because of the cold. Fai had to hold his breath to keep his giggles to himself, stuck in his throat like molasses. “But to answer your question, smartass, I am rather partial to Tom Clancy’s books and soba noodles. I don’t watch many movies.”
“You don’t watch movies?” The azure-eyed male’s jaw nearly dropped. “I love going to the theatre,” he sighed, sounding dreamily distant. He had stored away good memories of the theatre-both stage and film-in the back of his mind. Flashes of his Uncle Ashura holding his tiny hand as he led him into the theatre where Phantom of the Opera was playing on Broadway played before his eyes like grainy motion pictures.
He remembered gasping as the Phantom let Christine go at the end, tears filling his young eyes at the sorrow of the actor’s voice. The mask at the end, fading away in a single pinprick of light and the thunderous applause.... Fai could never remember crying so hard because of a play.
“Hey! Are you with me here?” Kurogane’s voice suddenly cut into the blond’s reverie. He jumped slightly, blinking away the trance-like haze that swirled around in his mind. “You spaced out for a second. Do you do that often?” The black-haired martial artist raised his sooty eyebrows, those russet coloured eyes seeming all the more prominent as he did.
Fai allowed a small smile to tug the corners of his mouth upwards. “I suppose I do,” he chuckled, brushing a few pieces of sandy hair out of his face. “I have a lot to think about, you know, Kuro-wan!”
Kurogane grunted incoherently, finishing off the espresso in his cup. “I’m not a dog, damn it, so don’t call me that!” he growled, hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. “And what could possibly be going through that empty head of yours, hm?”
The blond grinned and shook his head. “You barely know me, Kuro-chan. How could you possibly know what goes through my mind?” He stared into Kurogane’s eyes, a heated intelligence burning in those crystalline blue orbs. All the martial artist could do was clamp his mouth shut and stare.
A fiery, smouldering silence fell over the pair like sudden summer heat. It lasted a few long moments, the only sounds filling the air were that of the busy café; blasts of steam, the clank and clatter of glasses, idle chatter....
“I should go.” Kurogane abruptly blurted out, pushing his chair back in favour of standing up. “As pleasant as this has been, I need to catch the subway home. I’m pretty sure I’ll see you soon with the way things seem to be going currently.” The smirk that he shot Fai could have melted the hearts of women everywhere. It was cold, but with an underlying warmth that you had to look closely to see. It blazed in those rusty eyes, just beneath the surface of frostiness and apathy. Like winter slowly subsiding the warmth of spring....
Fortunately, Fai was not a woman.
“You don’t have to go quite yet,” the blond said simply, standing up as well. His teacup was drained and he was finished, anyways. “I’m enjoying your company,” he murmured, rubbing one of his shoulders almost bashfully. “Unless you have somewhere you need to go for Christmas? If that’s the case, I won’t keep you. I, personally, don’t have anywhere to go, so I’m not quite used to the idea.”
Kurogane shrugged, making a small, unintelligible sound in his throat. “Well, you and I have that in common, then. No, I don’t have anywhere I need to be. I just thought I could get home and make an early dinner before going to sleep and-”
“Hopefully sleeping through tomorrow?”
That same fiery silence drifted over them again. “Yeah...” the black-haired man said slowly. “How did you know that?”
Fai smiled emptily, eyes turning up to the ceiling. “I think the same way.” Kurogane did not reply to this. Instead, they left each other to their own moments of quiet contemplation. The sapphire-eyed man was finding it more and more odd how much in common he actually had with the brooding, grouchy martial artist. Perhaps.... “Say, Kuro-tan?”
Kurogane bit back a snarl and opted to simply glare at the blond in front of him. “What?”
“Would you care to go to see a play with me? I think you may like it....”
The wine-eyed man stared at Fai for a short while. They certainly did seem to be doing a lot of staring.... “Hm. As long as you’re paying, fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
---
Fai D. Flourite was the nephew of one of the most influential men in New York City, Ashura King. Because of this fact, the blond was subject to many more perks in average, everyday life than most regular people.
One of these perks was having a privately owned box in New York’s Majestic theatre.
After having that memory of his first time at the Phantom of the Opera rush back to him, Fai couldn’t get it out of his head. It was stuck there-the craving to see the play be performed. He needed to see the dancing, hear the clear ring of each voice echo through the theatre and once again absorb the beautiful story that unfolded every time in the Majestic theatre.
It was like an addiction.
Fai couldn’t help but hope that Kurogane enjoyed the Phantom of the Opera as much as he did. The wondrous sets, costumes, voices and tale all blending together in a concoction of beauty that had the blond captivated each time. Yes, he hoped that the martial artist could see that beauty, too.
Through the hour and a half of the first Act-oh, the Chandelier, Christine’s voice and the Phantom’s ever-lamenting ballads-Fai couldn’t help but itch to hold Kurogane’s hand. He supposed that it was out of habit. Every other time that he went to see this particular play, he had been with his Uncle Ashura, gripping his hand in anticipation through the entirety of the musical.
But, no. That would so extremely awkward and he didn’t want to break whatever fragile friendship he had already forged with the black-haired male. So he sat back and tried to focus on that lucid, pitch-perfect voice of Christine’s. Beautiful....
It got more difficult to refrain through the second Act, though. To see Raoul and Christine’s relationship grow and bloom, to see the Phantom capture her and keep her, to see Raoul’s pure love for her....
It tugged at Fai’s heart each and every time.
He felt tears prick at the backs of his eyes. They neared the end of the play now.... The Phantom had just let Christine go and she and Raoul were singing their love to each other in the background. The Phantom’s sorrowful cries for his love reverberated through the theatre. Fai couldn’t help it. He reached over and squeezed Kurogane’s hand as if for dear life. A couple of stray tears escaped the ducts as the final line rang out perfectly:
“It’s over now; the music of the night....”
And as the Phantom disappeared, leaving only his mask for Meg to find, Fai squeezed his eyes shut, more tears leaking out. That tiny pinprick of light faded on the mask and it ended....
---
Fai and Kurogane didn’t mention the hand holding in the theatre as they rode the subway back to Greenwich Village. They stayed mostly silent the entire way, few words being exchanged between them about the play at all. The blond still felt that pang of sadness in his chest that he felt on every occasion that he saw the Phantom. Such exquisiteness embodied on stage....
A voice rang out, announcing it was one stop before Fai’s. He looked over at Kurogane and let out a cheerless sigh. “Will we be parting ways, then?” he murmured.
“I suppose so,” the martial artist blandly responded.
That was not the answer Fai wanted to hear. He didn’t want to separate from Kurogane with no promise of them ever meeting again. The train started again and the blond felt a wave of distress wash over him. The night couldn’t end now. It felt like it had just begun!
“Would you...” he faltered; paused. He felt odd about what he was about to say. He had just met this mysterious black-haired man that day, after all. But... there was something there. Some unexplainable connection that was strung tight between them already. “Would you like to come back to my place with me? We could have Christmas dinner together since we have nobody else to have it with....”
Kurogane looked surprised. His eyebrows were high above his eyes, causing his forehead to crinkle. His lips were pulled into a straight line instead of his usual scowl or smirk. “Will there be soba?”
Fai couldn’t help but laugh. Some Christmas feast that would be. “Only if you’re making it.”
Silence. The train halted, announcing Fai’s stop to get to his apartment in the Village.... “Sure,” the crimson-eyed man grunted, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): KuroFai
Summary: People watching can certainly result in interesting relationships. [AU]
“Okay, quick! Tell me your favourite book, movie and food!” Fai ginned deviously over the lip of his ceramic tea cup. The rising plumes of steam seemed to shroud his eyes in a hazy shadow as he stared intently and unabashedly into Kurogane’s. The blond couldn’t help but think how funny it was to see the other man so flustered.
The crimson-eyed male blinked in surprise, nearly dropping his small cup full of espresso. It took him a moment to register what Fai had just said. “You’re making this sound like a date, idiot!” he snorted, staring intently at the table like it was the most interesting thing he had seen in his life. “This is not a date,” he huffed.
Fai stuck his lower lip out in a mock pout. He placed his cup down and leaned back in his chair, trying to look as crushed as he could manage without bursting into fits of laughter. “Oh, Kuro-pii, don’t you like me?” he whimpered, opening his eyes a little wider and hoping they looked watery.
Oh, and Kurogane’s reaction was simply priceless.
“Wha-I... I mean... what did I tell you about those stupid nicknames?!” he snapped, face and ears flushing bright red and not because of the cold. Fai had to hold his breath to keep his giggles to himself, stuck in his throat like molasses. “But to answer your question, smartass, I am rather partial to Tom Clancy’s books and soba noodles. I don’t watch many movies.”
“You don’t watch movies?” The azure-eyed male’s jaw nearly dropped. “I love going to the theatre,” he sighed, sounding dreamily distant. He had stored away good memories of the theatre-both stage and film-in the back of his mind. Flashes of his Uncle Ashura holding his tiny hand as he led him into the theatre where Phantom of the Opera was playing on Broadway played before his eyes like grainy motion pictures.
He remembered gasping as the Phantom let Christine go at the end, tears filling his young eyes at the sorrow of the actor’s voice. The mask at the end, fading away in a single pinprick of light and the thunderous applause.... Fai could never remember crying so hard because of a play.
“Hey! Are you with me here?” Kurogane’s voice suddenly cut into the blond’s reverie. He jumped slightly, blinking away the trance-like haze that swirled around in his mind. “You spaced out for a second. Do you do that often?” The black-haired martial artist raised his sooty eyebrows, those russet coloured eyes seeming all the more prominent as he did.
Fai allowed a small smile to tug the corners of his mouth upwards. “I suppose I do,” he chuckled, brushing a few pieces of sandy hair out of his face. “I have a lot to think about, you know, Kuro-wan!”
Kurogane grunted incoherently, finishing off the espresso in his cup. “I’m not a dog, damn it, so don’t call me that!” he growled, hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. “And what could possibly be going through that empty head of yours, hm?”
The blond grinned and shook his head. “You barely know me, Kuro-chan. How could you possibly know what goes through my mind?” He stared into Kurogane’s eyes, a heated intelligence burning in those crystalline blue orbs. All the martial artist could do was clamp his mouth shut and stare.
A fiery, smouldering silence fell over the pair like sudden summer heat. It lasted a few long moments, the only sounds filling the air were that of the busy café; blasts of steam, the clank and clatter of glasses, idle chatter....
“I should go.” Kurogane abruptly blurted out, pushing his chair back in favour of standing up. “As pleasant as this has been, I need to catch the subway home. I’m pretty sure I’ll see you soon with the way things seem to be going currently.” The smirk that he shot Fai could have melted the hearts of women everywhere. It was cold, but with an underlying warmth that you had to look closely to see. It blazed in those rusty eyes, just beneath the surface of frostiness and apathy. Like winter slowly subsiding the warmth of spring....
Fortunately, Fai was not a woman.
“You don’t have to go quite yet,” the blond said simply, standing up as well. His teacup was drained and he was finished, anyways. “I’m enjoying your company,” he murmured, rubbing one of his shoulders almost bashfully. “Unless you have somewhere you need to go for Christmas? If that’s the case, I won’t keep you. I, personally, don’t have anywhere to go, so I’m not quite used to the idea.”
Kurogane shrugged, making a small, unintelligible sound in his throat. “Well, you and I have that in common, then. No, I don’t have anywhere I need to be. I just thought I could get home and make an early dinner before going to sleep and-”
“Hopefully sleeping through tomorrow?”
That same fiery silence drifted over them again. “Yeah...” the black-haired man said slowly. “How did you know that?”
Fai smiled emptily, eyes turning up to the ceiling. “I think the same way.” Kurogane did not reply to this. Instead, they left each other to their own moments of quiet contemplation. The sapphire-eyed man was finding it more and more odd how much in common he actually had with the brooding, grouchy martial artist. Perhaps.... “Say, Kuro-tan?”
Kurogane bit back a snarl and opted to simply glare at the blond in front of him. “What?”
“Would you care to go to see a play with me? I think you may like it....”
The wine-eyed man stared at Fai for a short while. They certainly did seem to be doing a lot of staring.... “Hm. As long as you’re paying, fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
---
Fai D. Flourite was the nephew of one of the most influential men in New York City, Ashura King. Because of this fact, the blond was subject to many more perks in average, everyday life than most regular people.
One of these perks was having a privately owned box in New York’s Majestic theatre.
After having that memory of his first time at the Phantom of the Opera rush back to him, Fai couldn’t get it out of his head. It was stuck there-the craving to see the play be performed. He needed to see the dancing, hear the clear ring of each voice echo through the theatre and once again absorb the beautiful story that unfolded every time in the Majestic theatre.
It was like an addiction.
Fai couldn’t help but hope that Kurogane enjoyed the Phantom of the Opera as much as he did. The wondrous sets, costumes, voices and tale all blending together in a concoction of beauty that had the blond captivated each time. Yes, he hoped that the martial artist could see that beauty, too.
Through the hour and a half of the first Act-oh, the Chandelier, Christine’s voice and the Phantom’s ever-lamenting ballads-Fai couldn’t help but itch to hold Kurogane’s hand. He supposed that it was out of habit. Every other time that he went to see this particular play, he had been with his Uncle Ashura, gripping his hand in anticipation through the entirety of the musical.
But, no. That would so extremely awkward and he didn’t want to break whatever fragile friendship he had already forged with the black-haired male. So he sat back and tried to focus on that lucid, pitch-perfect voice of Christine’s. Beautiful....
It got more difficult to refrain through the second Act, though. To see Raoul and Christine’s relationship grow and bloom, to see the Phantom capture her and keep her, to see Raoul’s pure love for her....
It tugged at Fai’s heart each and every time.
He felt tears prick at the backs of his eyes. They neared the end of the play now.... The Phantom had just let Christine go and she and Raoul were singing their love to each other in the background. The Phantom’s sorrowful cries for his love reverberated through the theatre. Fai couldn’t help it. He reached over and squeezed Kurogane’s hand as if for dear life. A couple of stray tears escaped the ducts as the final line rang out perfectly:
“It’s over now; the music of the night....”
And as the Phantom disappeared, leaving only his mask for Meg to find, Fai squeezed his eyes shut, more tears leaking out. That tiny pinprick of light faded on the mask and it ended....
---
Fai and Kurogane didn’t mention the hand holding in the theatre as they rode the subway back to Greenwich Village. They stayed mostly silent the entire way, few words being exchanged between them about the play at all. The blond still felt that pang of sadness in his chest that he felt on every occasion that he saw the Phantom. Such exquisiteness embodied on stage....
A voice rang out, announcing it was one stop before Fai’s. He looked over at Kurogane and let out a cheerless sigh. “Will we be parting ways, then?” he murmured.
“I suppose so,” the martial artist blandly responded.
That was not the answer Fai wanted to hear. He didn’t want to separate from Kurogane with no promise of them ever meeting again. The train started again and the blond felt a wave of distress wash over him. The night couldn’t end now. It felt like it had just begun!
“Would you...” he faltered; paused. He felt odd about what he was about to say. He had just met this mysterious black-haired man that day, after all. But... there was something there. Some unexplainable connection that was strung tight between them already. “Would you like to come back to my place with me? We could have Christmas dinner together since we have nobody else to have it with....”
Kurogane looked surprised. His eyebrows were high above his eyes, causing his forehead to crinkle. His lips were pulled into a straight line instead of his usual scowl or smirk. “Will there be soba?”
Fai couldn’t help but laugh. Some Christmas feast that would be. “Only if you’re making it.”
Silence. The train halted, announcing Fai’s stop to get to his apartment in the Village.... “Sure,” the crimson-eyed man grunted, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”