[DRRR!!; one-shot] so far, i can't touch -- mikado/kida.
Series: Durarara!!
Word Count: Dunno.
Characters/Pairings: pre!Mikado/Kida.
Notes: I've been meaning to write this pairing - really, these two in general - for so long, and I've finally gotten around to it, so yayyyy.
Thank you to strawberrykaoru for giving me a reason to do so. She asked for frienshippy MikadoKida, so here you all go. <3
Summary: He keeps count of how many times Kida calls. / He wishes he remembered how it felt to be weightless.
so far, i can't touch.
// somewhere in my heart, I’m inconsistent.
His cell phone ringing over and over is usually annoying, but there’s something about the insistent noise and the faint glowing of the screen in his eyes that is - well, comforting isn’t the word, really. He’s not sure what he’d call it. Relieving? Calming?
Kida’s name flashes on the screen, and Mikado doesn’t answer. The fact that Kida cares enough to keep calling, one, two, five times now, makes Mikado feel the silence of his apartment more heavily than before. The only noise comes from the faint vibrations of his phone in his hand.
He - doesn’t like not picking up. He doesn’t. He knows the feeling of trying to reach someone over and over, the creeping nerves in the pit of your stomach when they never pick up. He also knows that for Kida to be calling so many times, something important much be going on. But for some reason, he refuses to pick up.
(Maybe, on the inside, he’s using the number of times Kida calls to measure how much he cares. He counts up to fifteen and realizes without much fanfare that he doesn’t know how to measure what the numbers mean.)
// it shows you the way you lost.
Kida sometimes wishes he could remember the feeling of flying over concrete for the simple reason that he could, not because he had to stop something or someone from doing who knows what which would affect who knows and cause god knows what and - he misses that feeling. Being able to run just because he was young and he was happy and he had nowhere to go and nowhere to be.
Him and Mikado used to run through the streets, back when they were both little kids, with Mikado laughing behind him because they both had time they could spend away from everyone else, and play some kind of game together - just the two of them. Only the two of them.
So he had Mikado come to the city. Why? Just ‘cause he wanted to be like that again? Man, he doesn’t know. It kinda makes him laugh, the way Mikado makes him feel so excited again, like a stupid kid in a city too big to comprehend - but, y’know, life always catches up with you.
It’s a bit sad. He wanted to be able to spend more time having fun with Mikado like before, weightless and free, without having to think about where they would end up and who would miss them, but - well, Mikado’s changed too. Kida isn’t the only one with something on his mind anymore.
It’s a little sad how quickly kids have to grow up, Kida muses. The yellow around his neck is hot and a little scratchy, but he doesn’t adjust it or comment. Even someone like Mikado, with his wide eyes, was already an adult. Probably more of an adult than Kida would ever be.
fin.
Word Count: Dunno.
Characters/Pairings: pre!Mikado/Kida.
Notes: I've been meaning to write this pairing - really, these two in general - for so long, and I've finally gotten around to it, so yayyyy.
Thank you to strawberrykaoru for giving me a reason to do so. She asked for frienshippy MikadoKida, so here you all go. <3
Summary: He keeps count of how many times Kida calls. / He wishes he remembered how it felt to be weightless.
so far, i can't touch.
// somewhere in my heart, I’m inconsistent.
His cell phone ringing over and over is usually annoying, but there’s something about the insistent noise and the faint glowing of the screen in his eyes that is - well, comforting isn’t the word, really. He’s not sure what he’d call it. Relieving? Calming?
Kida’s name flashes on the screen, and Mikado doesn’t answer. The fact that Kida cares enough to keep calling, one, two, five times now, makes Mikado feel the silence of his apartment more heavily than before. The only noise comes from the faint vibrations of his phone in his hand.
He - doesn’t like not picking up. He doesn’t. He knows the feeling of trying to reach someone over and over, the creeping nerves in the pit of your stomach when they never pick up. He also knows that for Kida to be calling so many times, something important much be going on. But for some reason, he refuses to pick up.
(Maybe, on the inside, he’s using the number of times Kida calls to measure how much he cares. He counts up to fifteen and realizes without much fanfare that he doesn’t know how to measure what the numbers mean.)
// it shows you the way you lost.
Kida sometimes wishes he could remember the feeling of flying over concrete for the simple reason that he could, not because he had to stop something or someone from doing who knows what which would affect who knows and cause god knows what and - he misses that feeling. Being able to run just because he was young and he was happy and he had nowhere to go and nowhere to be.
Him and Mikado used to run through the streets, back when they were both little kids, with Mikado laughing behind him because they both had time they could spend away from everyone else, and play some kind of game together - just the two of them. Only the two of them.
So he had Mikado come to the city. Why? Just ‘cause he wanted to be like that again? Man, he doesn’t know. It kinda makes him laugh, the way Mikado makes him feel so excited again, like a stupid kid in a city too big to comprehend - but, y’know, life always catches up with you.
It’s a bit sad. He wanted to be able to spend more time having fun with Mikado like before, weightless and free, without having to think about where they would end up and who would miss them, but - well, Mikado’s changed too. Kida isn’t the only one with something on his mind anymore.
It’s a little sad how quickly kids have to grow up, Kida muses. The yellow around his neck is hot and a little scratchy, but he doesn’t adjust it or comment. Even someone like Mikado, with his wide eyes, was already an adult. Probably more of an adult than Kida would ever be.
fin.