MY SUNSHINE | ENG - FANFICTION | HEY!SAY!JUMP! | YABU/INOO
Title: My Sunshine.
Pairing: Yabu/Inoo.
Normal warning applied.
Inoo twitches his nose a bit as something fresh hits his sense of smell. The sweet fragrant of early baked breads spoil him throughout. He rolls in his mouth as he can taste the delicious and crunchiness on his tongue, it crumbled inside his mouth, mixed with his saliva before going down to his stomach―and he licks his lips for the thoughts. It is morning already, and Inoo snuggles closer to the soft double sized bed when a cold breeze tickles his all covered blanket body―totally forgetting the hunger he felt before.
It's too cold.
Maybe it is because yesterday was raining heavily? Or he was just simply woken up earlier than usual? Or both or―
―well, whatever it was, Inoo shrugs it off and decides to go back to his precious dreamland.
Nothing to do, anyways. So, why bother when he can sleep all day long today? And tomorrow, then the next day as well―and everyday.
But deep down, Inoo cringes with those thoughts. It's not like he wants to be this useless as a human being. He wants, he does want to grab his too many brushes, oil paints, and creates a heart-warming art once again, play a too-catching-attention grand piano in the middle of his―their―plain yet pleasantly small house, cook a delicious breakfast, lunch, and supper one more time, and do many things he could do―even if it's only once.
Inoo will give anything, everything he has if possible to be more... alive.
Heck, what can he offer frankly speaking?
He has nothing. Right now, he's just a mere weak creature that lives long enough to suffer, to walk―if only he can walk―on a tortuous road but with no destination to go, and to see―if only he can―a horrifying truth about the world he live in; about the fact he is now. Not to mention, the cruel reality that slaps him hard on the cheek. It hurts. Indeed, it is hurting Inoo to the point he feel no longer aching―it's like the pain is blending with his flesh and blood that he can't even differ which is what. If Inoo is told how to describe the pain, it much likely an invisible wound that is ripping then burning his body and getting wider and bigger until Inoo is left nothing but skeleton―then die. But, he's still alive, still breathing even if it's hard, still―dying. The torment is much more than just being punished to death, like there's a big hollow within him that devour his soul slowly until he got numb.
In case he can choose between a torturing live and a painful dead, Inoo would pick the second choice long ago.
Inoo is not scared with death. And if in front of him standing a very merciless and hideous angel swinging its scythe to take his soul, Inoo will gladly surrender without hesitation.
"It's morning, Kei."
Yet, he has a reason not to do so. And that's certain reason is sitting on the space beside him, pulling down his over head blanket, then rubbing his cheekbone with a coarse thumb before planting a chaste kiss on his openly forehead softly―and almost, just a little bit more, killing him roughly.
Oh, how Inoo wants to scream from his deep agony―if he fucking can!
Inoo can smell a fresh mint from the guy's breath, the way he always likes it, and silently waiting for it to happen every single morning. The lips that just brought so much heat on his forehead (and Inoo is wondering why his cheeks feel the same as well) run down to his nose bridge, gritting his teeth but not hard enough to leave any mark or scar on it. The guy's calloused palms rubbing his hands inside the thick deep red blanket, slowly pulling it out, and the same lips suddenly kiss his knuckles before completely sealing his mouth to prevent any protest from Inoo―which is impossible. The only protest is Inoo's hitching breath with the sudden action, if it can be called a protest.
Inoo finds a way to put his hand in the hem of the guy's shirt, and he's clinging onto the front of the shirt, inhaling as much masculine scent from the well exposed crook of the guy's neck as he can, as if he breathes it, as if his life depends on it. The kiss turns into an ardent make-out which brings Inoo fully awake. He rolls his tongue around to fight for dominance to no avail, because no matter what, Inoo will always lose―in everything. And it desperate Inoo so much that he pulls the guy hard into another lustful kiss, tightening the hug, their chest are rubbing with each other's, his own hands find their way to the guy's soft chocolate hair, pulling him even closer until there is no more space between them, just the skin touching other skin through their clothes fabric.
When the kiss broke, Inoo is in a complete mess. Strand of saliva, messy hair, flustered face, panting, and lifted shirt that shows his flawless abdomen.
More.
―he wants to say it―
"Breakfast is ready," the guy on top him says while rubbing his thumb on Inoo's knitted eyebrows.
But, how, when he, himself is unable to see what the latter's expression toward him; is it a satisfied, disgusted, or what?
A light chuckle can be heard as he feels a strong hand grabs his wrist and pull him to sit on the bed, as if he knows what Inoo is thinking. "We'll do it later, after breakfast, okay?"
How embarrassing.
Inoo just nods as an answer. What else is he supposed to do? He cannot talk at all. Though he's not mute since born, but still, Inoo can't voice his words out to him, even though he wants it so bad. As bad as he needs air to breathe.
He only wants to say those three magical words to him and one more; the unspoken gratitude he held behind his lips.
It happened three years ago, before he lost all his will to continue his life and decided to jump from the hospital building. Inoo didn't know who to blame―because it's simply no one's fault. Actually, he must be grateful to be the only few who live after a terrifying plane crash, protecting himself behind the seat after a massive explosion occurred―but in exchange, he must lost his sight as well as his voice for screaming too much, getting a burned limbs, and took an operation on fractured ankle. After a few months, he could barely walk but still unsteady, and he used this chance to escape from his room to the rooftop after leaving a horribly messy handwriting testament letter on the neatly folded blanket. But, he failed before he can even step out from his room. Thanks for that Yabu Kota who was patiently taking care of him all these days, as his doctor―and his lover.
As Inoo could remember it clearly, he was on the airport exactly at ten in the morning. Knowing the time difference from the country he was staying at as an exchange student from Japan, he was hoping to be at his hometown right on the scheduled time. For some reason, the flight was delayed for about an hour or more, and Inoo forgot to tell Yabu about this, decided to change his plan into surprising his lover who he thought would be at home already waiting for him―but Inoo's not coming yet, and would never come.
The next morning, Yabu woke up with horrifying news about a plane crash and about one of the patients on the hospital he worked in.
It explained everything why the spare key of their house was laying still under the pot, untouched.
At first, Inoo couldn't believe with what he saw―getting mad at Yabu who teased him for never turning on the lamp for the whole day by throwing a pillow, magazine, or anything that reached his grasp. And even more furious because he couldn't go to where Yabu's standing just to punch his stomach for his unfunny jokes, albeit Inoo knew too well when his lover was being serious or playing around. Days, even a week passed by Inoo giving Yabu a cold shoulder, which Yabu responded patiently. After he could understand the fact that he's no longer the Inoo he was used to be, he stopped throwing tantrums at once. The anger turned into grief and total silence.
Gloominess surrounded him and the thought of vanishing so he wouldn't be a more bother to anyone else―especially his one and only benevolently charming boyfriend, Yabu Kota―haunted him. He had no parents anymore since he was seven, his whole relative abandoned him for being an orphan, and the only person he could call a family was Yabu Kota, alongside with the brunette's family―a beautiful woman and a wise man who took care of him for ten years or more. But a year before the horrible incident happened, they were already going to heaven and live for eternity together, leaving him and Yabu alone―the two of them, facing the world by the age of eighteen. Inoo didn't cry when his own parents lied down inside the coffin back then, he absolutely didn't shed any tears―yet, the time he got a call from Yabu that his parents' sickness was getting worse and couldn't be helped anymore, Inoo wouldn't let his arms go around Yabu, he buried his wet face on the latter's chest for the whole day. Inoo knew how much Yabu loved his parents, as much as his or perhaps more. But seeing Yabu just standing there without expressing anything, Inoo realized―it shocked Yabu too much for him to even cry. And Inoo decided that he cried for both of them, sharing each other's warmth through a tight embrace Inoo insisted. Inoo already lost his love of life twice, and he wanted no more regret. That's why, he would break his own life to prevent any other grief―and also cut the red string between him and Yabu, the guy whom he loved―loves―wholeheartedly.
Inoo was a coward, he agreed. He called himself that way as well. He was scared, with his current condition, Yabu would leave him eventually.
With him being no more existed, Yabu wouldn't be troubled anymore to take care of him, right? After all, no one would care anyways.
No one―but,
Yabu did. He does care.
Inoo remembered how angry Yabu when he knew what he had intended. The latter's anger was not the kind of anger that released by throwing tantrums like what Inoo did, but it's more like a silence of disappointment that clenched Inoo's heart too tight for him to breathe. And Inoo knew one more thing, he was not alone in this world. Yabu would always, will always be by his side―
―even though he didn't say it in words.
Yabu loves Inoo so much, and so does Inoo.
Two weeks after, Inoo left the hospital and stayed at Yabu's house. He still hasn't given up on giving up about his life. He stopped going to university as well as work as a librarian. It broke him as his fondness towards book should be eliminated―but, what could he do?
Literally, nothing.
Only Yabu, and always Yabu who supports him financially, physically, and mentally.
His Yabu, is his everything. His whole life. His whole world. His reason to be alive. His living sources. His happiness. His light. His love of life. His eyes. His lips. His―sunshine. His only sunshine. His... heart.
"We're not going about it again, Kei," Yabu sighs as he ruffles Inoo's curly hair. "What you need to know is I love you, and I will always do anything for you."
Inoo tugs the corner of his lips a bit to tell Yabu that he understands, albeit it's still not satisfying him, nevertheless it's enough to convinced his doubts and his ifs-ness.
Inoo asks no more.
It's enough,
right?
A tear rolls from his dull eye. Yabu's calloused hand stops it before it lands on the blanket. He can feel warm thin and familiar lips on his cheekbone. As Inoo begins to weep, Yabu chuckles softly, the way Inoo always likes it. Oh, how Inoo likes everything about the guy in front of him. How Inoo―feels like he's the luckiest person in the world.
Right,
it's enough.
And Inoo finds himself finally smiling, as he moves his lips to utter soundless words, the words that have been hanging for years.
Inoo had lost his most valuable person twice, and he wants no more. Yabu Kota is the other light of his life. An only thing Inoo wishes is... that Yabu will never be taken away from him, forever.
.
.
.
I love you―thank you.
(A/N: Comments are really appreciated. Ciao.
-nju)