A story in four sequences with no actual conclusion
A story in four sequences with no actual conclusion
Uruha/Kai
PG-13 (language)
Note: Uruai writing challenge :)
Prompt: Here!
I.
Uruha decided to write his own fairy tale when he met Kai. He was overwhelmed with renewed determination to make ‘once upon a times’ from pristine eyes and ‘happy endings’ from honest lips. It was a clichéd meeting of course; awkward exchange between customer and barista in a small coffee shop hidden on the outskirts of the city, with pale lighting from antique chandeliers casting a curious ambiance. He handed him the drink and Kai snatched it with a nervous grip, mumbling his gratitude without sparing a glance.
Kai situated himself in a corner, book propped up as a barrier from any unnecessary interactions and downing his coffee like water.
“You’ve no romance in life.” Uruha took the empty mug and replaced it with a new one, smirking with an amused glint. “Kai.”
“What?”
He slyly pointed to Kai’s tag; some off-white pin with his name printed in mundane font, and picked off imaginary lint for good measure. Shouldn’t waste something so beautiful.
“I’m not interested.” Kai crossed his arms like a shield, unsure of his reaction. He silently cursed himself for leaving his nametag on when he rushed from his own job two doors down.
“You city boys are all the same,” Uruha scoffed, unaffected by Kai’s resistance. He saw it, the split second of uncertainty and inquisitiveness. “So fucking defensive.” He sat down uninvited. “Loosen up.”
“You’re a douche.”
“Likewise.”
Kai huffed and Uruha smiled inwardly, drumming his fingers on his chin and enjoying the attitude being displayed. It’s a cheap thrill, but Uruha found Kai’s temper as a welcoming challenge. The boy with the innocent face had to be tamed after all.
The classic English literature was forgotten on the table that evening as Kai stormed out, slightly unsettled and (unknowingly) completely smitten.
II.
The restaurant lights dimmed; bright shades of yellow replaced by soft white signaling that dinner hours had begun. Kai charged in through the back door, dropping his backpack and tying his apron on with unrivaled haste while apologizing to everyone within proximity. He scanned the kitchen, wordlessly thanking some higher power that they weren’t short-staffed tonight. Perhaps he’d leave on time to actually finish the thesis due in three days.
“Kai! Two waters on table five!”
“Roger that!” He grabbed the iced pitcher and filled the glasses close to the brim. Lifting the round tray high above his head, he made his way towards the front of the restaurant with confident steps of a senior waiter.
“I apologize for the wait,” he softly said while placing the glasses on the coasters. The elderly ladies looked up and he smiled at them charmingly; charisma switched on like a high watt light bulb. “Are you ready to order or would you like a few minutes?”
They placed their orders and chatted animatedly whenever Kai returned to refill their waters, forever asking if the food was to their liking or if they needed anything else.
“Looks like someone is romancing the wrong century,” his coworker whistled in jest.
Kai pursed his lips in mock contemplation before revealing his wide-eyed dimple.
“Well…looks like someone has extra money after paying rent this month.”
He returned home with a hefty tip that night.
III.
Uruha locked the front doors of the café, sighing in relief the day was finally over. He had agreed to work a double shift from 7am until closing at 10pm after countless harassment from a fellow barista who needed the day off to finish his paper. Countless phone calls from the day before turned into his coworker pleading on his knees in front of his door at midnight.
“Damn you’re ugly when you cry.”
“Is that a yes?” The short coworker pouted even more, complete with drool on the side.
“No. And you stole that book from the cabinet.”
“I didn’t. I’m borrowing it. It’s the same one that’s used for my class.”
Uruha feigned annoyance. He glared at him for good measure before showing offhand interest.
“What class?”
“British Lit 302.”
“One of your classmates forgot that book in the coffee shop. Make sure he gets it back.”
“Who?” He stood up and stepped closer.
“Kai. And back up that fun train.” Uruha held him back at arm’s length.
“Soooooo…is that a yes?”
Uruha slammed his apartment door shut.
“Uruha-san. Pl-“
“You owe me you little dipshit!” was heard muffled through the door.
IV.
“One date.”
Kai halted mid-stride on his way home through the park; the voice grudgingly too familiar.
“Just one.” Uruha tried again, getting closer. “If you-“
The wind picked up.
And so did Kai’s steps.
Uruha jogged to catch up, his long legs gracefully doing their job. He reached out and gently took hold of Kai’s hand. It was much daintier than he imagined. Soft palm led to short but slender fingers and he pictured himself holding it at every chance.
“If you don’t want to, just say ‘no.’”
Kai doesn’t answer.
****
He took Kai to the river at 3am, motorcycle engine roaring down the winding road as the frosty air bit at their necks. Kai thought he saw his life flashing before his eyes at every sharp turn, holding on to Uruha tighter than he should and unconsciously delighting in the physical contact.
“It’s cold.” Kai pulled the blanket snug around himself as he plopped down on the bench.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Uruha caught the corner of the fleece and wrapped it around himself after a game of tug-o-war.
“You only brought one?”
“All you do is complain.” And he wished Kai would scoot a bit closer. “I’ll share if you ask nicely.”
Kai snorted and hugged his knees against his chest, calm water filling his vision and he fondly remembered coming here frequently as a child.
“I’m not always an asshole,” Uruha whispered and glanced at him, peripheral vision at its best, taking in the sharp noses and pouty lips.
“I’m cold, Uruha.”
And he waited, holding the blanket open in invitation until Kai settled against him, fitting like the right piece of puzzle with his icy face buried in Uruha’s neck.
“Can we do something else next time?” Kai grumbled sleepily, yawning open mouth brushed against Uruha’s collarbone. His tone was meek and accepting, something the older man had been waiting for.
“How about dinner-somewhere warm,” Uruha readily answered and ruffled his hair affectionately.
“You country boys are all the same.” I want romance too.
And Kai surprised him with a kiss, lips pliant and willing for his taking.
Uruha/Kai
PG-13 (language)
Note: Uruai writing challenge :)
Prompt: Here!
I.
Uruha decided to write his own fairy tale when he met Kai. He was overwhelmed with renewed determination to make ‘once upon a times’ from pristine eyes and ‘happy endings’ from honest lips. It was a clichéd meeting of course; awkward exchange between customer and barista in a small coffee shop hidden on the outskirts of the city, with pale lighting from antique chandeliers casting a curious ambiance. He handed him the drink and Kai snatched it with a nervous grip, mumbling his gratitude without sparing a glance.
Kai situated himself in a corner, book propped up as a barrier from any unnecessary interactions and downing his coffee like water.
“You’ve no romance in life.” Uruha took the empty mug and replaced it with a new one, smirking with an amused glint. “Kai.”
“What?”
He slyly pointed to Kai’s tag; some off-white pin with his name printed in mundane font, and picked off imaginary lint for good measure. Shouldn’t waste something so beautiful.
“I’m not interested.” Kai crossed his arms like a shield, unsure of his reaction. He silently cursed himself for leaving his nametag on when he rushed from his own job two doors down.
“You city boys are all the same,” Uruha scoffed, unaffected by Kai’s resistance. He saw it, the split second of uncertainty and inquisitiveness. “So fucking defensive.” He sat down uninvited. “Loosen up.”
“You’re a douche.”
“Likewise.”
Kai huffed and Uruha smiled inwardly, drumming his fingers on his chin and enjoying the attitude being displayed. It’s a cheap thrill, but Uruha found Kai’s temper as a welcoming challenge. The boy with the innocent face had to be tamed after all.
The classic English literature was forgotten on the table that evening as Kai stormed out, slightly unsettled and (unknowingly) completely smitten.
II.
The restaurant lights dimmed; bright shades of yellow replaced by soft white signaling that dinner hours had begun. Kai charged in through the back door, dropping his backpack and tying his apron on with unrivaled haste while apologizing to everyone within proximity. He scanned the kitchen, wordlessly thanking some higher power that they weren’t short-staffed tonight. Perhaps he’d leave on time to actually finish the thesis due in three days.
“Kai! Two waters on table five!”
“Roger that!” He grabbed the iced pitcher and filled the glasses close to the brim. Lifting the round tray high above his head, he made his way towards the front of the restaurant with confident steps of a senior waiter.
“I apologize for the wait,” he softly said while placing the glasses on the coasters. The elderly ladies looked up and he smiled at them charmingly; charisma switched on like a high watt light bulb. “Are you ready to order or would you like a few minutes?”
They placed their orders and chatted animatedly whenever Kai returned to refill their waters, forever asking if the food was to their liking or if they needed anything else.
“Looks like someone is romancing the wrong century,” his coworker whistled in jest.
Kai pursed his lips in mock contemplation before revealing his wide-eyed dimple.
“Well…looks like someone has extra money after paying rent this month.”
He returned home with a hefty tip that night.
III.
Uruha locked the front doors of the café, sighing in relief the day was finally over. He had agreed to work a double shift from 7am until closing at 10pm after countless harassment from a fellow barista who needed the day off to finish his paper. Countless phone calls from the day before turned into his coworker pleading on his knees in front of his door at midnight.
“Damn you’re ugly when you cry.”
“Is that a yes?” The short coworker pouted even more, complete with drool on the side.
“No. And you stole that book from the cabinet.”
“I didn’t. I’m borrowing it. It’s the same one that’s used for my class.”
Uruha feigned annoyance. He glared at him for good measure before showing offhand interest.
“What class?”
“British Lit 302.”
“One of your classmates forgot that book in the coffee shop. Make sure he gets it back.”
“Who?” He stood up and stepped closer.
“Kai. And back up that fun train.” Uruha held him back at arm’s length.
“Soooooo…is that a yes?”
Uruha slammed his apartment door shut.
“Uruha-san. Pl-“
“You owe me you little dipshit!” was heard muffled through the door.
IV.
“One date.”
Kai halted mid-stride on his way home through the park; the voice grudgingly too familiar.
“Just one.” Uruha tried again, getting closer. “If you-“
The wind picked up.
And so did Kai’s steps.
Uruha jogged to catch up, his long legs gracefully doing their job. He reached out and gently took hold of Kai’s hand. It was much daintier than he imagined. Soft palm led to short but slender fingers and he pictured himself holding it at every chance.
“If you don’t want to, just say ‘no.’”
Kai doesn’t answer.
****
He took Kai to the river at 3am, motorcycle engine roaring down the winding road as the frosty air bit at their necks. Kai thought he saw his life flashing before his eyes at every sharp turn, holding on to Uruha tighter than he should and unconsciously delighting in the physical contact.
“It’s cold.” Kai pulled the blanket snug around himself as he plopped down on the bench.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Uruha caught the corner of the fleece and wrapped it around himself after a game of tug-o-war.
“You only brought one?”
“All you do is complain.” And he wished Kai would scoot a bit closer. “I’ll share if you ask nicely.”
Kai snorted and hugged his knees against his chest, calm water filling his vision and he fondly remembered coming here frequently as a child.
“I’m not always an asshole,” Uruha whispered and glanced at him, peripheral vision at its best, taking in the sharp noses and pouty lips.
“I’m cold, Uruha.”
And he waited, holding the blanket open in invitation until Kai settled against him, fitting like the right piece of puzzle with his icy face buried in Uruha’s neck.
“Can we do something else next time?” Kai grumbled sleepily, yawning open mouth brushed against Uruha’s collarbone. His tone was meek and accepting, something the older man had been waiting for.
“How about dinner-somewhere warm,” Uruha readily answered and ruffled his hair affectionately.
“You country boys are all the same.” I want romance too.
And Kai surprised him with a kiss, lips pliant and willing for his taking.