[fic] Tightrope + [fic] Perpetual
Two more requests done :D
Title: Tightrope
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)
Words: 5 525
Rating: PG-15
Summary: At times, Ryo's heart was like a prison. If they made just one wrong move, they would fall...
Notes: written for itsahello, and based off the music video for Acid Black Cherry's 蝶 (Butterfly).
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Dear itsahello. I hope you like it and sorry for the wait!! DDD: But haha, at least I hope this makes up for the wait. XDDD I know it took so long DDD:
For the other readers: this fic's prompt was that pv also listed up there, and the title comes from a part of the lyrics, which i thought kind of fit the fic itself :DDD But i'll let you read and stuff now :)
Before I go onto the fics, I'd like to thank pinkeuphoria1* for her beta-ing help :DDD for both of these fics :D
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Soft whispers left warm imprints on the skin of his cheek, as calloused fingers stopped on his parted lips. He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze rested upon a mouth tugging up in a self-assured smirk.
Half-lidded eyes soon captured his attention, and he stared into them; he could just barely make out his own image in those eyes, their faces were that close.
"Kazuya," his name on his lover's lips echoed in his ear, words and sound vibrating against his skin. He briefly entertained the thought of whether or not his name had ever sounded so good formed by anyone else's lips, in anyone else's voice. The syllables reverberating in the air between them made him breathe in deeply, and he didn't dare release that breath again, until those fingers began to trail down his throat, forcing him to breathe again.
It was like his every breath, his every heartbeat, was all a map memorized and ingrained in his lover's mind.
Kazuya moved a hand to tangle itself in black locks even as he arched back with a, "Ryo," barely passing through his lips. He wondered if Ryo was just as affected by hearing his name as Kazuya was by Ryo saying his own. It was always difficult to know what Ryo felt sometimes.
At times, Ryo's heart could be locked up like the most impenetrable prison. Nothing got in and nothing got out. Or, at least, that's how it often seemed.
But, at times, at rare times, Ryo's defences were non-existent.
Kazuya wasn't entirely sure which one it was today; there was always only one way to tell, because Ryo could pretend like his life depended on it when he was being stubborn enough.
He moved to capture Ryo's lips with his.
Kazuya knew, though, that Ryo liked it when he was kissed; he didn't know why, but he knew that Ryo would stop what he was doing and simply bask in the feel of their lips meeting, like there was some sort of spell over him. Kazuya loved that about Ryo; it was so simple, for someone so complicated.
Kazuya pulled away from the kiss briefly, their mouths barely apart, and he whispered frantically, longingly, "I love you," into the air that was tight with the emotions between them.
Ryo didn't say anything, and kissed him; Kazuya was pulled closer against Ryo.
Then, the kiss fluttered away into the air, lingering there.
Today, Ryo's heart was like a prison.
Every day, Kazuya had Ryo's soul, but today, Ryo's heart was locked up.
* * *
Ryo's flat was quaint, decorated by the previous owner who had left town all of a sudden, and one of the few redeeming features were the lengthy windows lining one side of the apartment, allowing sunlight to filter in rather beautifully through the white curtains. Kazuya often spent his time in the bed in Ryo's room, or curled up on the sofa next to the window, staring at the clear, unobstructed, view of the city skyline. It wasn’t that Ryo's flat was unattractive, or that Kazuya didn’t like it. Kazuya loved it; this place was a slice of heaven in an otherwise stressful world.
But, there was nothing of Ryo in the decorations his lover simply never bothered to let his apartment reflect himself, and Kazuya always felt just a tiny bit afraid as time went on.
It always felt as though, if he felt like it, Ryo could leave - just like that.
After all, it never quite seemed as though this flat had ever seemed like home to Ryo; it was an otherworldly place that Ryo just always happened to be in and Kazuya just happened to have the spare key to.
“Hey,” he was greeted with the wonderful sound of Ryo's voice against his ear and a kiss against his neck. When those lips left his skin, Kazuya tilted his head backwards to look up into Ryo's dark eyes.
Kazuya offered a smile in greeting, one that faded at the way Ryo's gaze continued to stare intently at him.
“I didn’t notice last night,” Ryo said softly, his fingers reaching for just under Kazuya’s eye; he moved as though to wipe away a non-existent tear from Kazuya’s brown eyes, “You look tired.” He commented absently.
Kazuya didn’t move; he treasured moments like this, these rare moments when Ryo forgot about his defences and it was like Kazuya not only had his soul, but had his heart as well. But, as always, with Ryo, these walls around his heart were never down for long.
Ryo's lips softly crushed against Kazuya’s, but he didn’t say anything else; instead, he began to move his hands down Kazuya’s arms, keeping Kazuya down against the soft material of the couch.
At the look in Kazuya’s eyes, Ryo smirked against the kiss but didn’t let another word cross his lips.
Ryo's heart was walled up, and the only way to get a glimpse, at times, was through the few caring words that escaped him. Kazuya’s heart clenched; was it terrible of him to want to see more of Ryo's heart, to have all of Ryo?
Two fingers brushed a strand of his hair out of his face in answer - a fleeting movement that barely stayed long enough to be felt.
Kazuya made himself stop caring, as he returned the kiss.
He was aware that outside of this little escape with Ryo, the world was changing. His world was changing. And he would lock himself in with Ryo for as long as it took to try to pretend that it wasn’t - that his life would always remain like this.
* * *
Another day, another hundred sighs even before the sun had set.
Kazuya had retreated again to the couch that could overlook the city skyline, even though there wasn’t much to look at right now, except for the glittering lights of the city at night. It was way past sundown, probably even closer to midnight, and Kazuya let out yet another sigh as he stared out at the pitch black sky lit up with artificial lights. Those artificial lights twinkled just as brightly as the real stars in the sky, brighter even, considering how far away the real stars were.
He wondered if one day, that was how he would be. Would something fake and artificial manage to shine brighter than what was real and genuine?
A part of him hoped so; the other part wanted to scream that it wasn’t right.
A dark shadow appeared in Kazuya’s vision, blocking out the light from the city; he looked to see the bare torso of his lover, and he sat up, moving over a little and making room for Ryo on the couch.
“You’re always escaping out here,” Ryo commented in a low voice, a harsh whisper, almost as though there was something he was afraid of setting off and disturbing. Kazuya sometimes thought that maybe it was because Ryo was afraid of accidentally bringing down the walls of his own heart.
Kazuya merely smiled at Ryo, enjoying a moment when he could put his head down on Ryo’s shoulder and his lover wouldn’t complain - much, at least. Ryo stiffened a little, like he always did, but eventually, he merely relaxed and sent Kazuya a smile back. Kazuya knew he was the only one in the world who could ever get away with doing this; he’d gone out with Ryo a few times to meet his friends, and Kazuya did notice that anytime anybody else tried to do this, or something just as touch-feely that required close contact, Ryo shied away.
He wondered why that was, many times, but it was like…
Ryo would look at him when he did that - shying away from others - as though it was really just another way to declare that he was Kazuya’s.
At that sudden realization, Kazuya kept his head against Ryo’s shoulders longer than he normally would have.
“I like making you find me,” he admitted with an unrepentant grin, particularly when he saw Ryo shooting him an exasperated glare.
“Besides,” he added before Ryo could say anything, “I like it here. I like the view. Sometimes, I think that you only stay here because there’s a good view.” He added, not voicing his inner insecurity that he was afraid that, one day, Ryo would just leave without a word. Ryo seemed like that sometimes - like he wasn’t tied down anywhere, except that he made it clear that he was tied down with Kazuya now.
But nothing else, besides Kazuya, kept him there.
And sometimes, Kazuya wondered if he was really that great of an anchor; all those times Ryo closed off his heart, it felt like Kazuya wasn’t really the thing tying down Ryo here, keeping him near.
“Well,” Ryo admitted with a shrug, “I don’t have anywhere else to go. And besides, you like the view too, so don’t complain.” He added, but Kazuya felt his heart flutter a little at those words; to him, it felt like Ryo was saying ‘I’m not going anywhere unless you do’, and he felt his heart break a little as well.
He reached out, fingers dancing along Ryo’s skin, until he found Ryo’s hand, and entwined their fingers before clutching Ryo’s hand tightly.
“What?” Ryo asked in confusion; this was one of the days when he was actually open, and his heart and emotions bared for Kazuya to see. It didn’t happen often, so Kazuya always felt strangely happy when it did.
“Nothing,” Kazuya answered, but he felt a painful sensation beginning to spread in his heart, finalized with a thump as his heart beat at that very moment, “I just don’t want to go anywhere else.” He said quietly, wondering if Ryo even heard him.
* * *
Life was unreasonably cruel, as Kazuya found out in recent months. He sighed as he leaned back against the arm of the couch, playing with the tie he had on. It wasn't long before the sounds of the shower ceased and Ryo walked out in his boxers, drying his hair as he went to grab a drink from the kitchen. He paused after a moment though, bottle of beer in hand, and turned to look at the main area of his flat again.
Kazuya watched all this with a fond smile on his face.
"Kazuya?" Ryo ventured while trying to hide his confusion. It might have worked on anyone else, but when you spend as much time with Ryo as Kazuya did, and oftentimes with the vulnerability of being unclothed and in the same bed, masking emotions didn't work quite as well.
"Hi," Kazuya said in greeting, before going back to play with his tie. He didn't want to think about anything else right now, except how he was starting to hate this tie. He wanted to throw it away and burn it, to keep from thinking about his reality outside of this haven right now.
He was startled, then, when Ryo pushed Kazuya's legs to the inside of the couch, making room for the older man to sit down, and promptly yanked on Kazuya's loosened tie so that Kazuya went sitting up, his face extraordinarily close to Ryo's, in an intimate manner he was all too familiar with.
Ryo's fingers were all over and wrapped around the black tie, and Kazuya felt his breath hitch just a little at the sudden closeness. It was odd, because normally, Kazuya initiated the first contact; it was like, until there wasn’t a move made by Kazuya first, Ryo wouldn't do anything. Of course, after the initial contact, and all that kissing and intimacy that came afterwards, Ryo wouldn’t hesitate. But the first moment they saw each other every day, Kazuya had to take that initiative.
Ryo's fingers were also wet, just like the state his hair was in. Kazuya reached forward, taking the towel that had fallen around Ryo's shoulders, and with a laugh - what he honestly thought to be the first time he actually laughed today - he helped Ryo dry his hair. Ryo waited patiently before, with a little smirk and fingers still clenching on Kazuya's tie, he pulled Kazuya in for a smothering kiss that left Kazuya breathless.
The few strands of Ryo's hair that were still a bit damp tickled Kazuya's face as the older man began to push him back to lie against the couch, hands pulling at and discarding Kazuya's tie. Then, those same hands, even though Ryo couldn't possibly see what he was doing, were between their bodies, unbuttoning Kazuya's dress shirt with practiced ease.
"I love you," Kazuya said, out of the blue this time; he never confessed his feelings until they were well into each other's bodies, and he was lost in the moment.
Ryo didn't answer; Ryo never did. Instead, he answered with soft, lingering touches down Kazuya's spine, across his stomach, and finally, confidently pulling at the rest of Kazuya's suit, until they were both left in only their boxers, clothes thrown on the floor.
"I really do, Ryo." Kazuya insisted.
Ryo stopped to look at Kazuya, with those intensely dark eyes; Kazuya stared back at them, before he moved to capture Ryo's lips in a kiss again; this time, he was the one to break off all conversation. Kazuya wanted to forget his day, he wanted to forget reality.
* * *
Kazuya couldn't make himself forget anymore. He was dressed again, and Ryo was asleep. He stared at Ryo's face, peaceful with dreams, and he had to smile softly and sadly.
There was no sound in the room, nothing to distract him from his thoughts, from his reality.
Kazuya leaned in, his lips extraordinarily close to Ryo's. He breathed out a heavy sigh, and whispered softly, "Ryo, I went to an omiai today."
There was a sharp intake of breath that wasn't his.
Kazuya's eyes flew up, to meet Ryo's dark ones; Ryo's eyes were staring at him, unflinching and unblinking. But Kazuya knew that look; he knew it all too well.
He was only frozen for a moment; that moment passed and Kazuya turned and bolted out of there.
* * *
By the time Kazuya worked up the courage to return to Ryo's apart - he knew he couldn’t stay away for long - it was a day later, and he opened the door tentatively. He wasn't sure what to expect after what he had admitted to Ryo, how he had admitted it, and the look that had been in Ryo's eyes.
It was a look that Kazuya knew too well; he hadn't seen it in so long. It was the look Ryo gave to other people they met when they went out, wrapping his hand around Kazuya's wrist carefully and meaningfully; it was the look Ryo had first given him when they had first met, not knowing that they would be swept up in this heavenly romance.
It was a look of wariness, of not trusting someone.
Except, Kazuya knew it was more than that; it was the realization that he had hurt Ryo that had caused that look to reappear.
"Ryo?" he ventured, calling out. Kazuya didn't get an answer, and he was filled with that familiar hesitation that
maybe, maybe Ryo had finally left this flat that was never home to him. This flat was merely a place to stay at, nothing more, and wouldn't have kept Ryo here for long. What if he decided that, after what Kazuya had revealed, what Kazuya had done, there was no need to remain here any longer?
He was brought out of his thoughts by a sound on the couch though, and Kazuya quickly walked over. What he saw broke his heart, really shattered it.
Ryo lay sprawled on the couch, a blanket covering him, and from the bottles of beer on the table nearby, he had been drinking.
Drinking a lot too, Kazuya realized as he counted the number of empty bottles lying around.
Kazuya leaned forward, moving Ryo's legs to make room for himself, and brushed his fingertips softly over Ryo's face; he had a sinking feeling about what had caused this drinking binge. Sure, Ryo drank sometimes; he did too, but not all this in one sitting, or even one day. He had gotten himself truly and utterly wasted.
Ryo's eyes opened at the touch, and Kazuya drew back hesitantly. Ryo stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” Kazuya said after a moment, looking down, “I wanted to tell you before, but…” he paused, “But I didn’t know how. This was the third meeting.” He finished carefully. He really hadn’t been able to figure out how he was supposed to tell Ryo that he was going to a meeting with a girl, and probably ended up being arranged to marry her. Even though he supposedly had a choice, Kazuya knew that the pressure his family would put on him would mean that he didn’t really. His family meant well, they just wanted him to find a girl to settle with, start a family, and be happy with, but they didn’t know that Kazuya had already given his heart to someone else. But they were insistent, and the fact that they kept making him go to these meetings, this one being the third, meant that they were determined and this was probably the girl they had decided on.
“You could have tried,” were the words that came out of Ryo's mouth and made Kazuya flinch.
There was a tense silence for a few moments.
“It’s okay,” Ryo said calmly after a moment, which was unsettling when his eyes were bloodshot and he still had the remnants of alcohol in his breath, “Did you like her?”
Startled by the question, Kazuya simply shrugged; he honestly didn’t know the girl, didn’t want to know her, well enough to make a decision about that.
Then, Ryo's expression turned into what Kazuya had expected: betrayed anger. He rolled back to lie on the couch and said with an angry sigh, “I should have known, you know, that one day you’d leave me too.”
Kazuya’s heart stopped at that.
“Does she have your heart now, like I do? Or did?” Ryo asked angrily; Kazuya didn’t blame him. He would be too if Ryo had told him he was probably set to be engaged sometime in the near future; no, he would be furious because to him, Ryo was his. He could understand.
Kazuya tried to reach out to take Ryo's hand, to try to ease the tension, but Ryo merely snatched it away. Then, Ryo rubbed his head tiredly, and he looked at Kazuya with the most vulnerable expression Kazuya had ever seen from him. It was hurt, it was heartbreak, and it was resignation.
“I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t do this.” Ryo said in a voice so quiet that it was more like a soft whisper.
“Ryo…” Kazuya reached out, this time being able to grab Ryo's hand; he held it tightly, drawing Ryo closer, until their lips met in a kiss. He relaxed, basking in the familiarity of this kiss: the intense emotions between them, it was something that could never be duplicated with anyone else, he knew that.
But it broke a moment later, when Ryo pushed him away.
“Ryo?”
Ryo turned his head away, “You should probably spend the time you have getting to know your future fiancée instead of coming to see me.” He said roughly.
Kazuya didn’t know what to say to that; he watched, in stunned silence, as Ryo stood up from the couch and walked over to the fridge to grab another beer. He watched Ryo, and it was only when he heard the popping sound of the beer being opened that he stumbled up and followed Ryo.
“Ryo, you can’t mean that…” he choked out.
“I do.” Ryo said flatly, “There’s no point in coming to see me anymore, you should try to make the best of it and try to find something in common with her. After all, you’ll be spending the rest of your life with her, not with me.” He said, “I spent yesterday doing more than just drinking. I was thinking too.”
No! Kazuya wanted to scream loudly, but he didn’t; instead, he grabbed Ryo's arm, “No, I can still do something about this. This - this doesn’t have to stop just because -”
Kazuya didn’t get to finish, because fury made its way onto Ryo's face, and Kazuya felt his wrist caught in a nearly painful grip. He looked down, barely registering the pain, and saw Ryo's fingers turning white as he dug them into Kazuya’s skin.
“You didn’t just say that,” Ryo growled out, and Kazuya had a feeling that all of this had caused Ryo to break down the walls around his heart in response, but it wasn’t what Kazuya wanted; Kazuya could only see the anger, the pain, instead of what he had always wanted to see.
Kazuya gasped, more from seeing all the anger and pain than any sort of pain from Ryo's grip.
An expression of grief crossed Ryo's face, and Kazuya felt like he would shatter into a thousand pieces right here and now; Ryo let go quickly enough, and he looked away, standing up. “I’m not going to be your relationship on the side,” Ryo said harshly.
Kazuya opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t what he had meant to say, but he knew, deep down, that he had been hoping for the easy way out. To keep Ryo, and keep his family’s approval as well; he wanted both, when he knew that to have both would mean lying to his family, and keeping Ryo a secret. It wasn’t fair to anyone.
Kazuya buried his head in his hands for a moment. He was startled when he felt a hand on the back of his head, and he relaxed into the touch, looking up.
But Ryo didn’t let him look at him for long. Ryo looked away again.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about what you do,” Ryo said with a touch of bitterness in his voice, “But you can’t have both, Kazuya. Choose one, and stick with that decision. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret, just like you wouldn’t want to be mine.”
Kazuya felt his heart sinking.
“You want me to be engaged,” he asked disbelievingly.
“I didn’t say that,” Ryo snapped, grabbing the beer bottle and getting up, “I’m saying you have to choose. You can’t have both anymore.”
Kazuya couldn’t look at Ryo right now; he knew what Ryo wanted wasn’t all that unreasonable, to know that Kazuya would be his and his only, just like Kazuya wanted Ryo to be his and his only, but the choice was between upsetting his family - and probably have them angry at him and never forgive him - and Ryo, and…
He faltered.
Ryo looked at him, and for a moment, Kazuya could see all that he had ever wanted to see from Ryo, but it was gone a moment later, as Ryo turned away. Ryo retreated into his bedroom, leaving Kazuya to stare at the door. It was like a choice was being given to him; Ryo's door meant that he would choose Ryo, but the main door meant that…he would leave and never come back.
“Ryo…”
He couldn’t decide; it was too hard, and he was afraid of what might happen if he abandoned everything - his family, his home - for Ryo - Ryo who still put up barriers around his heart, even around him.
He walked over to the door and leaned against it.
“Ryo, what do you want me to say?” he asked quietly.
There was silence, “I can’t choose for you.” Ryo responded darkly.
“But…if you could, if you would, would you tell me that you wanted me to choose you?” Kazuya questioned.
Ryo went quiet.
“Ryo…all you have to do is tell me to stay, and I will.”
“I won’t choose for you,” Ryo swung the door open, staring at Kazuya, “I’m not going to be responsible for one of the biggest choices of your life. I’m not going to be responsible for alienating you from your family. This has to be your choice.”
Ryo froze as Kazuya put a hand to his chest, “I just wish,” Kazuya said quietly, “That I could see more of your heart than what you’re willing to show me.” He said sadly.
And so, with a broken heart, that he tried to mask as whole, Kazuya walked out of the main door, only briefly aware that the moment he closed the door behind him, he heard a crashing noise that sounded exactly like a beer bottle breaking.
Every sound as he left the building sounded like sheer heartbreak to him.
* * *
The sound of instruments played amongst the light chatter in the reception room, and Kazuya couldn’t take his eyes off of the stage. A hand on his shoulder made him turn, and Kazuya shot a forced smile at his older brother; this was his anniversary celebration, and Kazuya knew his brothers were worried for him, even if they didn’t say it. They, more often than not, tried to push him to rest instead of making him help out whenever he could.
“I’m okay,” Kazuya said quickly before his brother could even ask.
Kazuya got an incredulous look in return, “The fact that you said that before I could even ask makes me think you’re not that okay.” The elder Kamenashi said, “But it could just be that we’re all busy and you have no one to talk to, so I made sure to get your friend to come along today.”
For a moment, Kazuya’s mind went into a state of panic, his eyes flickering toward the stage. However, when his brother pointed across the room, to where Koki was walking toward them with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Kazuya merely nodded - feeling both relieved and disappointed. He had thought - just thought - for a moment that maybe his brothers knew about why he was still reluctant to make a decision about the engagement, and that…
But that was stupid. They couldn’t know. Kazuya had once considered telling them, to ask them for advice, but a conversation with his parents the day after he left Ryo's flat made him reconsider that; they were putting so much pressure and hope into him, that he didn’t dare risk to disappoint them.
Kazuya knew that Ryo understood that, that he was being pressured to be the good son, the son that would never break his parents’ hearts, but Kazuya could feel a bit more of his own heart breaking each day that he put on the charade of happiness for them.
Kazuya was the second youngest son of four children. His parents weren’t exactly young, and the last thing Kazuya wanted to do was create grief for them. They weren’t trying to make him do anything he hated just because they were selfish - just the opposite, they wanted him to be happy - but Kazuya couldn’t exactly feel all that grateful about having his life partner decided for him.
Especially as he knew, more than anything else, that his heart belonged to Ryo.
In the time that he had left Ryo's flat, he had not stopped thinking about Ryo, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else. What he wanted to do, most of all, was to run to Ryo and announce what was in his heart: that he wanted Ryo and nothing was going to stop him.
But a few things were stopping him.
The disappointment he imagined from his parents when he would tell them about Ryo; the hesitation he felt when he thought about Ryo and the way he couldn’t be sure of the future. Not that he wasn’t sure, per se, but he would be more confident about his decision if he knew, from Ryo's own mouth, that he loved him just like he loved Ryo.
He wanted a future with Ryo, but not if he had to lose everything and everyone else he loved.
Kazuya hadn’t realized he had gone back to staring at the stage, at the band already playing, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was turned around. Kazuya blinked at Koki, who merely quirked a smile at him.
“So, is this fate or just really bad manipulation on your brothers’ behalf?” Koki asked, eyes flickering toward the stage.
Kazuya shot a furtive look at his brothers; his eldest, the one whose celebration it was tonight, was currently standing next to his wife and talking to their parents. His other brothers were going around making sure everything was going okay; apparently, they had decided that Kazuya had had enough on his plate and didn’t need to help out, much to Kazuya’s irritation when he had first been told.
“I really don’t think they know about Ryo,” Kazuya said honestly, eyes flickering toward the stage where Ryo was holding the microphone in his hands and singing; any other time, Kazuya would have relaxed into what he would have felt was heaven on earth, enclosed in Ryo's voice.
“Must be fate then,” Koki said with a callous shrug but looking pointedly at Kazuya.
Kazuya shot him a dirty look, “You stop that.” He demanded.
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Kazuya said flatly, “Stop it.”
“What? I’m only pointing out that you didn’t expect him to be here, and he probably didn’t expect you to be here either, by the gaping look he’s sending you right now. It’s probably fate,” Koki said decisively, “Or something like that.”
Kazuya strongly wanted to hit Koki over the head right now, but he refrained himself from it. Then, he looked toward the stage again, where Ryo was indeed staring at him like he had seen a ghost. Kazuya's lips quirked up just a bit; he had always liked to catch Ryo off guard, and it seemed that, now that they were apart, that still didn't change. He still felt the swell of triumph at getting past Ryo's normally well-established defences.
They stared at each other for a long while, before one of the guys in Ryo's made hit him over the head; Ryo looked away, shook himself a little, and then with a nod, gripped the microphone tightly again.
Kazuya felt his heart clench.
He could never seem to be able to shake off that undeniable connection he had to Ryo, that connection in which his heart always reached out and yearned for Ryo, no matter how much he wished it didn't. It would be so much easier to decide whether or not to break his parents' hearts and make himself happy, or to break his own heart and make his parents happy, if he could ignore that connection to Ryo.
It was a break in the set, the band taking a short rest, that Kazuya was startled from his thoughts by Koki nudging him roughly. Kazuya was about to glare at him, when he saw that Ryo was staring at him, and after a moment, Ryo strode purposefully toward him.
Kazuya froze, unable to move and only able to try to pretend that it didn’t affect him.
It did, it so did, but…
Ryo pushed past him, his calloused fingers brushing against Kazuya’s; it was almost like they were holding hands again, like the lovers they still should have been. The touch was lingering, yearning, and Kazuya wanted to give into those feelings all over again, his willpower shattered by the softest of touches from Ryo.
He forced his face to remain impassive, but inside, he was unravelling, becoming a total wreck; Ryo made a barely noticeable pause, and only those who knew that they were involved with each other would have noticed, as “Is this your answer?” was asked in a rough but quiet tone.
Kazuya didn’t reply, and Ryo kept walking past him, out the reception hall.
It was only after the man was well out of the hall that Koki nudged him, “What if it’s fate?” he teased, but his eyes were serious, “Kame, I need something from my car,” he announced loudly enough for people around them to hear, before tugging on Kazuya’s sleeve.
“Koki!” Kazuya hissed, but he didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Kame, don’t let it end like this. Even if you don’t go back to him, don’t let it end on bad terms. You love him so much, you’ll probably keep loving him all your life. Do you want him to come to hate you for that entire time?” Koki hissed.
Kazuya stopped arguing, stopped fighting; the idea of Ryo hating him tore at him worse than not being with Ryo. And he knew, then, that he had to at least try to talk to Ryo, like Koki said. So, before Koki could pull him again, Kazuya was walking briskly out the door, following the footsteps of Ryo that still resounded in his ears and his heart.
His heart quickened as he heard the footsteps start to fade, and he was breaking into a run and ignoring Koki’s pleased smirk, chasing after the dark eyes that had burned themselves deep into his heart.
--- END ----
That's it :D I left it as a sort of open-leaning-toward-hopeful ending haha. Actually, I had two other scenarios in mind for the ending, but this one worked way better than those two. One of which was Kame definitely chooses Ryo; another was that he didn't, but years later, they meet again, and Kame's divorced and Ryo's come out of a string of bad relationships XD I actually was leaning toward the 2nd one more, but in the end, I chose to end it right here because it had a slightly-implied-happy ending :D
lol, maybe I'm the only way who sees it this way, but I thought that the tightrope in the lyrics fit the fic well in the end, since for most of the fic, they were on the teetering, and almost falling. But that could just be me :D
*
Title: Perpetual
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)/ Bemu x Asou
Words: 2 730
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: Bemu (Youkai Ningen Bemu) x Asou (1 Litre of Tears).They were both just in need of a bit of rescuing.
Notes: written for raixas.
--
Dear raixas, sorry for the delay DDD: Hopefully, you'll like what came out of your prompt. It didn't end up as fluffy as I had hoped, but haha, I hope you still like it :DDD Bemu x Asou was certainly a very interesting pairing to write. XD
--
Silver hair contrasted shockingly against the smooth, youthful skin of the man standing drenched in the rain with him. Asou Haruto wasn't one to be surprised, not even a little, in any way; he had long years of practice as a doctor to keep his facial expressions neutral, but the sight of rain drops falling on, and then trailing smoothly down this silver haired man's skin made him start just a little. When he had approached the shock of silver hair standing stiffly under a tree in the rain as Asou took a shortcut through a park to get home - not even being covered by the tree's branches - he had expected an elderly man caught in the rain, and despite everything inside that was telling him to just leave it alone, his honed instincts as a doctor - and remembering a time in the rain in his youth with a girl who still caused his heart to wrench in pain - had made him approach the man even though he himself was drenched.
He had merely thought, before seeing the young, smooth - and if Asou was honest with himself, beautiful - face of the man, that something had happened, that some elderly man was injured or something was making the man stand in the rain, limbs as stiff as a statue, almost like a resolute show in order not to be affected by something as simple as the rain.
Asou had thought something was wrong; no human should be that stoic, that statue-like, when cold, freezing rain fell in torrents onto him. Asou himself, despite his ability to numb himself to all else, was more than just freezing. And he had a proper coat on, while the clothes of this man were simply so wet that they stuck tightly to the body of this silver haired entity.
Entity, because the more Asou looked at this man, the more it seemed as though he wasn't anything as simple as a man; there was something simply otherworldly, ethereal, about him - from his silver hair, to the intense look in his eyes and to the rigid posture as he drew his gaze away from Asou and stared back out into the rain.
Asou wasn't convinced yet that nothing was wrong. The way the man looked - it all screamed to Asou's instincts that something was clearly wrong, whether it was physical or something deeper. Asou surveyed the man intently, before his eyes travelled to the man's hands, which were opening and closing more often than was normal, almost like a reaction to a pain that Asou couldn’t see.
Without thinking, he moved closer, and as the man's eyes trained on him warily, Asou took those hands in his, intent on investigating whatever it was that plagued the other.
It was a strange show of compassion, one that the Aya inside of Asou's head was laughing at him about right now. Aya, who caused Asou's heart to wrench painfully, but also made him feel at ease with the world around him, safe, just like the real Aya had once done. But the way Asou had alienated himself from everyone after Aya's death was something that the real Aya would have berated him about - which the Aya in his head had done many times already. He hadn't wanted to be close to anyone ever again, not if he didn't have to.
Since Aya's death, he had only ever been compassionate to people who needed him first. His patients were the only ones who ever saw a side of him that wasn't cold, detached, and secretly afraid to lose someone again. They needed him; everyone else didn't need him, so he didn't need them. But…that also encouraged his belief that people would just keep going away in life, because his patients didn't stay long - either their lives were unfortunate enough that they couldn't live out their lives, or they were fortunate, got better, and left the hospital - left Asou. Even when he was dragged out with coworkers, or friends, or family, he was always alone. He put a wall between himself and other people, but inside the Asou who wanted nothing to do with other people, there was still a desire to help people, help them in the way he had always wanted to help Aya. But that didn't happen often; in fact, there were few people who could claim to really know Asou.
Asou just didn't reach out to people.
Yet, for some reason, this silver-haired entity was making him reach out. Maybe it was the completely otherworldly feeling coming from him.
"Are you okay?" he asked after a long moment, still holding the man's hand; the opening and closing flexing movement had stopped, but there was still the twitch of his fingers. He wondered what it was, because he certainly couldn’t see the injury, but Asou could only relate this movement to the way someone who had injured their hand would keep moving it, testing the limits, despite the pain.
Asou's mind told him it was okay to help someone, he was a doctor and it was his job, but his heart protested against it. This wasn't one of his patients, he wasn't going to die from his injuries and there wasn't a desperate need for his presence; it was just an unnecessary risk.
Sometimes, you have to take risks, the little voice that Asou had long named Aya snapped at his heart.
His heart merely beat once in protest, and Asou’s breath caught in his chest as the silver haired man looked intently at him. Asou's hand travelled to this silver haired entity's wrist, and even though, once again, there was no obvious injury, a sudden flash of pain shot through the man's eyes, and he flinched.
Help him, Asou, Aya encouraged him.
Traitor, his much too careful heart accused with another beat.
* * *
Bemu was in a strange situation that he had never been in before. His heart was beating quickly as a human he had never seen before took his hand and asked him if he was alright. Then, Bemu had flinched without meaning to. His heart was racing in panic at the close proximity of this human. There was a conflicted look about this human, but after a few moments of staring at him, he had taken Bemu's hand and showed him this concern that Bemu wasn't used to from humans.
Especially not now.
Bemu wasn't injured - at least not anymore. His strange existence meant that he never really stayed injured for long, a few seconds at most; he couldn’t be hurt by human means, not even in his form that mimicked a human. He would heal far too quickly, but the memories of the sensations of pain, the betrayal of those who hurt him - those remained. He could still feel the burn of the fire as frightened people in the small town he had been in with Bela and Bero had tried to stave off the 'monsters' with fire torches and guns. He could feel the sensation of the flames travelling up his human form's arm before his accelerated healing kicked in and he was healed as the flames went. But, for a few brief seconds, when the flames had burned, he had felt that pain.
Those fleeting feelings during these attacks, the pain of betrayal, stayed with him in ways that no physical injuries ever did.
Because of the panic at the aggressiveness of the townsfolk, Bemu had gotten separated from Bela and Belo. They were to meet in a pre-determined city in a few days, if they were separated, and this was the case now. But along the way, once he had gotten to this town, Bemu hadn't been able to go on.
The heartbreak of such betrayal - such intense hatred for him, such desire to destroy him - did more damage to him than the flames ever would, and he hadn't been able to keep travelling. Once the rain hit, turning into a thunderstorm, he stood there, and cold raindrops hit his skin like little stabs of painful emotions. He revelled in it, having the outside world reflect what he felt on the inside.
And the moment this strange human had taken his hand, Bemu had jumped - his very recent experience with humans hadn't left him with much trust. It would take time to recover from this, like it always did. Betrayal never hurt any less, even if he had begun to come to expect this sort of thing. They had gone from town to town for so long, leaving each time they were found out and people turned on them, that he had begun to expect this reaction.
"I'm fine," Bemu finally answered, his voice a bit hoarse. He was torn; a part of him, the part that yearned to be human, wanted to draw closer into this strange man’s touch. Another part of him, tainted by his experiences with humans, told him to get away.
The other man had a slight frown on his face, though, as he peered closely at Bemu’s hand; Bemu wondered what he was looking for. It was almost as though he knew that was where Bemu had been injured earlier, where Bemu would probably have marks if he had been human.
“I’m a doctor,” the man explained quietly, his eyes conflicted as he looked at Bemu. For a moment, Bemu recognized some of the same emotions that he himself often felt. It astounded Bemu that the same wariness he felt for humans was reflected in this man’s eyes - along with the desire, the desperation, to be wanted, to be needed. Bemu hadn’t realized, until now, that it was possible for anyone to feel the same way that he, Bela, and Belo did.
“Asou Haruto,” the man continued, “It’s just…it seems like you’ve injured it recently or something.” He commented, still surveying his hand, “You keep flexing it, like you expect it to hurt when you do. Like you’re testing its limits.” He frowned in confusion, then he added, “It’s because I’m a doctor that I want to help you. Nothing else.”
Bemu merely stared in surprise; he hadn’t expected someone to notice that. It wasn’t that it still hurt, it was that he still remembered the brief seconds when it had hurt.
“I…was injured recently,” Bemu admitted slowly, “It’s nothing.” He meant to take his hand away, but instead, he found that he couldn’t. He was suddenly realizing that this was what it felt like to be a human, to be cared for like he was one of them; even if this Asou was trying to deny that it was only because of his responsibilities as a professional that he cared, Bemu could hear the man’s heart beating, quickening. He cared more than he wanted to.
Just like Bemu, he cared but didn’t dare to show it.
So, to find an outlet for that compassion, Bemu tried to help people, save people; to find an outlet for his compassion, Asou was a doctor, doing the same.
Was he really not all that different from this man?
Asou was helping him move his fingers, curling them and watching Bemu’s face intently. Bemu found that his breath was caught at the way those obsidian eyes stayed on him.
Then, as if satisfied that he wasn’t feeling any pain right now, Asou relaxed his hold on Bemu’s hand. A moment later, Asou shuddered and wrapped his other arm tentatively around himself. Just as he did, a chagrined expression crossed Asou’s face and he dropped his arm, as if embarrassed that -
That he was in the cold, in the rain, which Bemu had forgotten even though it was somewhat uncomfortable, it was probably even colder for a human.
Bemu’s eyes narrowed at Asou, “Aren’t you cold?” he asked.
Asou tried to shrug as though he wasn’t, but he was shivering under his coat; Bemu could tell right away, he just didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before. He took his hand out of Asou’s, even though the doctor was trying to hold on, and he shrugged off his own coat, thin as it was and held it up, over Asou’s head. Even if it wasn’t doing much for the cold, it was at least keeping the rain off the doctor. Bemu peered under his jacket at Asou, his own body getting wetter, but Bemu merely shrugged it off.
Asou stared at him, and then he snapped out, “You’ll freeze to death.”
Bemu merely smiled a little, starting to understand this doctor a bit more. He was just like Bemu. He tried to hide that he cared more than he wanted to care; Bemu hid it because he was afraid of what would happen should others find out about him. This doctor hid it because - well, he didn’t know exactly why but from the look in his eyes, Bemu had a feeling that he had been hurt before.
“I’m fine,” Bemu reassured him; he was. He wasn’t entirely affected by the rain; it was uncomfortable, but it didn’t bother him like it was bothering Asou.
After a moment, Asou glared, “How can you say that? The rain is freezing. You don’t even have a proper coat on now!”
Bemu offered another smile, “I’m not bothered by the cold. Besides, I should thank you.”
“For what?” Asou asked incredulously.
“For trying to help a stranger when you didn’t need to.” Bemu replied.
In his head, he added, For reminding me why I wanted to be a human so badly, and why I should keep believing.
Asou made a grumbling noise, and he made to argue, but Bemu had put his hand to Asou’s forehead, “Thank you.” He said sincerely, looking into Asou’s eyes. Asou stared back at him, but a moment later, his eyes were closing, and Bemu caught the doctor before he fell. He knew that it was a matter of time before this happened; Bemu’s jacket couldn’t really keep the cold at bay, only the rain, and he knew that his time in the rain helping Bemu would take its toll on the human’s body.
As strong as Asou was, he was still human.
Bemu had known this would happen, expected it, so he knew what to do. Asou collapsing, the cold weakening his body like this, allowed him to slowly wrap an arm around Asou, pulling the human close, shielding him from the rain and, hopefully, helping to warm him up a little. He knew that he should bring Asou to a hospital, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to interact with another human just yet.
His wounds from the last encounter, not visible, still felt fresh.
Asou was merely an exception.
So, he tentatively held the doctor close, trying to convince himself that the way his heart was beating quicker was merely because he had never been so close to a human.
“Thank you,” he said again, knowing that Asou couldn’t hear him.
* * *
The first thing Asou saw when he opened his eyes was the bright sun in the sky, and he could smell the scent of rain and wet grass all around him. The storm must have stopped. He then blinked when he realized he was lying somewhere outdoors and he sat up with a jolt.
He looked around wildly, trying to locate that silver-haired man he had encountered in the rain. That was the last thing he remembered - he hadn’t…
It couldn’t all have been a dream, could it? No, there was no way. Asou wasn’t one to give into fantasizing, and even if he did, most of his fantasies involved a miracle in which Aya lived. Besides, why else would he have been lying on a bench, secluded from the rest of the park?
It was then that Asou realized that something had fallen off him; he reached over and picked up a worn, dark jacket.
“What happened?” Asou asked himself softly, still trying to seek out the silver haired man even though he knew in his mind that that man was long gone.
You reached out to someone, Aya’s voice in his mind said just as softly.
Asou merely held the jacket tighter in response, and his eyes caught a glimpse of a strand of silver hair caught in the collar.
--- END ---
Hope you liked it! I...actually had a bit of trouble with the prompt, seeing as Bemu tends to heal faster than normal and doesn't really have lasting injuries, so I took your injured prompt in a figurative sense :D The title of this fic comes from the idea that they both have scars that will never disappear, that aren't always visible, so Perpetual - everlasting and all that. I hope that, despite the lack of physical injuries, and the angst at the beginning I'm sorry, I couldn't write the whole fic with fluff; these are two very very very angsty characters XDDD that you still liked it! :D
lol, i also made Asou a bit touched in the head, with the Aya thing XDDD i just had to add Aya in there somehow XDD *clears throat* I know you said only Bemu being healed in your prompt, but I kind of made it so that they helped each other out? Equally the heroes or whatnot XDD So I hope you still enjoyed this :D
Also, only two more fics left. I hope to get those done soon, but...finals are coming up, so we'll see! :D
Title: Tightrope
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)
Words: 5 525
Rating: PG-15
Summary: At times, Ryo's heart was like a prison. If they made just one wrong move, they would fall...
Notes: written for itsahello, and based off the music video for Acid Black Cherry's 蝶 (Butterfly).
--
Dear itsahello. I hope you like it and sorry for the wait!! DDD: But haha, at least I hope this makes up for the wait. XDDD I know it took so long DDD:
For the other readers: this fic's prompt was that pv also listed up there, and the title comes from a part of the lyrics, which i thought kind of fit the fic itself :DDD But i'll let you read and stuff now :)
Before I go onto the fics, I'd like to thank pinkeuphoria1* for her beta-ing help :DDD for both of these fics :D
--
Soft whispers left warm imprints on the skin of his cheek, as calloused fingers stopped on his parted lips. He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze rested upon a mouth tugging up in a self-assured smirk.
Half-lidded eyes soon captured his attention, and he stared into them; he could just barely make out his own image in those eyes, their faces were that close.
"Kazuya," his name on his lover's lips echoed in his ear, words and sound vibrating against his skin. He briefly entertained the thought of whether or not his name had ever sounded so good formed by anyone else's lips, in anyone else's voice. The syllables reverberating in the air between them made him breathe in deeply, and he didn't dare release that breath again, until those fingers began to trail down his throat, forcing him to breathe again.
It was like his every breath, his every heartbeat, was all a map memorized and ingrained in his lover's mind.
Kazuya moved a hand to tangle itself in black locks even as he arched back with a, "Ryo," barely passing through his lips. He wondered if Ryo was just as affected by hearing his name as Kazuya was by Ryo saying his own. It was always difficult to know what Ryo felt sometimes.
At times, Ryo's heart could be locked up like the most impenetrable prison. Nothing got in and nothing got out. Or, at least, that's how it often seemed.
But, at times, at rare times, Ryo's defences were non-existent.
Kazuya wasn't entirely sure which one it was today; there was always only one way to tell, because Ryo could pretend like his life depended on it when he was being stubborn enough.
He moved to capture Ryo's lips with his.
Kazuya knew, though, that Ryo liked it when he was kissed; he didn't know why, but he knew that Ryo would stop what he was doing and simply bask in the feel of their lips meeting, like there was some sort of spell over him. Kazuya loved that about Ryo; it was so simple, for someone so complicated.
Kazuya pulled away from the kiss briefly, their mouths barely apart, and he whispered frantically, longingly, "I love you," into the air that was tight with the emotions between them.
Ryo didn't say anything, and kissed him; Kazuya was pulled closer against Ryo.
Then, the kiss fluttered away into the air, lingering there.
Today, Ryo's heart was like a prison.
Every day, Kazuya had Ryo's soul, but today, Ryo's heart was locked up.
* * *
Ryo's flat was quaint, decorated by the previous owner who had left town all of a sudden, and one of the few redeeming features were the lengthy windows lining one side of the apartment, allowing sunlight to filter in rather beautifully through the white curtains. Kazuya often spent his time in the bed in Ryo's room, or curled up on the sofa next to the window, staring at the clear, unobstructed, view of the city skyline. It wasn’t that Ryo's flat was unattractive, or that Kazuya didn’t like it. Kazuya loved it; this place was a slice of heaven in an otherwise stressful world.
But, there was nothing of Ryo in the decorations his lover simply never bothered to let his apartment reflect himself, and Kazuya always felt just a tiny bit afraid as time went on.
It always felt as though, if he felt like it, Ryo could leave - just like that.
After all, it never quite seemed as though this flat had ever seemed like home to Ryo; it was an otherworldly place that Ryo just always happened to be in and Kazuya just happened to have the spare key to.
“Hey,” he was greeted with the wonderful sound of Ryo's voice against his ear and a kiss against his neck. When those lips left his skin, Kazuya tilted his head backwards to look up into Ryo's dark eyes.
Kazuya offered a smile in greeting, one that faded at the way Ryo's gaze continued to stare intently at him.
“I didn’t notice last night,” Ryo said softly, his fingers reaching for just under Kazuya’s eye; he moved as though to wipe away a non-existent tear from Kazuya’s brown eyes, “You look tired.” He commented absently.
Kazuya didn’t move; he treasured moments like this, these rare moments when Ryo forgot about his defences and it was like Kazuya not only had his soul, but had his heart as well. But, as always, with Ryo, these walls around his heart were never down for long.
Ryo's lips softly crushed against Kazuya’s, but he didn’t say anything else; instead, he began to move his hands down Kazuya’s arms, keeping Kazuya down against the soft material of the couch.
At the look in Kazuya’s eyes, Ryo smirked against the kiss but didn’t let another word cross his lips.
Ryo's heart was walled up, and the only way to get a glimpse, at times, was through the few caring words that escaped him. Kazuya’s heart clenched; was it terrible of him to want to see more of Ryo's heart, to have all of Ryo?
Two fingers brushed a strand of his hair out of his face in answer - a fleeting movement that barely stayed long enough to be felt.
Kazuya made himself stop caring, as he returned the kiss.
He was aware that outside of this little escape with Ryo, the world was changing. His world was changing. And he would lock himself in with Ryo for as long as it took to try to pretend that it wasn’t - that his life would always remain like this.
* * *
Another day, another hundred sighs even before the sun had set.
Kazuya had retreated again to the couch that could overlook the city skyline, even though there wasn’t much to look at right now, except for the glittering lights of the city at night. It was way past sundown, probably even closer to midnight, and Kazuya let out yet another sigh as he stared out at the pitch black sky lit up with artificial lights. Those artificial lights twinkled just as brightly as the real stars in the sky, brighter even, considering how far away the real stars were.
He wondered if one day, that was how he would be. Would something fake and artificial manage to shine brighter than what was real and genuine?
A part of him hoped so; the other part wanted to scream that it wasn’t right.
A dark shadow appeared in Kazuya’s vision, blocking out the light from the city; he looked to see the bare torso of his lover, and he sat up, moving over a little and making room for Ryo on the couch.
“You’re always escaping out here,” Ryo commented in a low voice, a harsh whisper, almost as though there was something he was afraid of setting off and disturbing. Kazuya sometimes thought that maybe it was because Ryo was afraid of accidentally bringing down the walls of his own heart.
Kazuya merely smiled at Ryo, enjoying a moment when he could put his head down on Ryo’s shoulder and his lover wouldn’t complain - much, at least. Ryo stiffened a little, like he always did, but eventually, he merely relaxed and sent Kazuya a smile back. Kazuya knew he was the only one in the world who could ever get away with doing this; he’d gone out with Ryo a few times to meet his friends, and Kazuya did notice that anytime anybody else tried to do this, or something just as touch-feely that required close contact, Ryo shied away.
He wondered why that was, many times, but it was like…
Ryo would look at him when he did that - shying away from others - as though it was really just another way to declare that he was Kazuya’s.
At that sudden realization, Kazuya kept his head against Ryo’s shoulders longer than he normally would have.
“I like making you find me,” he admitted with an unrepentant grin, particularly when he saw Ryo shooting him an exasperated glare.
“Besides,” he added before Ryo could say anything, “I like it here. I like the view. Sometimes, I think that you only stay here because there’s a good view.” He added, not voicing his inner insecurity that he was afraid that, one day, Ryo would just leave without a word. Ryo seemed like that sometimes - like he wasn’t tied down anywhere, except that he made it clear that he was tied down with Kazuya now.
But nothing else, besides Kazuya, kept him there.
And sometimes, Kazuya wondered if he was really that great of an anchor; all those times Ryo closed off his heart, it felt like Kazuya wasn’t really the thing tying down Ryo here, keeping him near.
“Well,” Ryo admitted with a shrug, “I don’t have anywhere else to go. And besides, you like the view too, so don’t complain.” He added, but Kazuya felt his heart flutter a little at those words; to him, it felt like Ryo was saying ‘I’m not going anywhere unless you do’, and he felt his heart break a little as well.
He reached out, fingers dancing along Ryo’s skin, until he found Ryo’s hand, and entwined their fingers before clutching Ryo’s hand tightly.
“What?” Ryo asked in confusion; this was one of the days when he was actually open, and his heart and emotions bared for Kazuya to see. It didn’t happen often, so Kazuya always felt strangely happy when it did.
“Nothing,” Kazuya answered, but he felt a painful sensation beginning to spread in his heart, finalized with a thump as his heart beat at that very moment, “I just don’t want to go anywhere else.” He said quietly, wondering if Ryo even heard him.
* * *
Life was unreasonably cruel, as Kazuya found out in recent months. He sighed as he leaned back against the arm of the couch, playing with the tie he had on. It wasn't long before the sounds of the shower ceased and Ryo walked out in his boxers, drying his hair as he went to grab a drink from the kitchen. He paused after a moment though, bottle of beer in hand, and turned to look at the main area of his flat again.
Kazuya watched all this with a fond smile on his face.
"Kazuya?" Ryo ventured while trying to hide his confusion. It might have worked on anyone else, but when you spend as much time with Ryo as Kazuya did, and oftentimes with the vulnerability of being unclothed and in the same bed, masking emotions didn't work quite as well.
"Hi," Kazuya said in greeting, before going back to play with his tie. He didn't want to think about anything else right now, except how he was starting to hate this tie. He wanted to throw it away and burn it, to keep from thinking about his reality outside of this haven right now.
He was startled, then, when Ryo pushed Kazuya's legs to the inside of the couch, making room for the older man to sit down, and promptly yanked on Kazuya's loosened tie so that Kazuya went sitting up, his face extraordinarily close to Ryo's, in an intimate manner he was all too familiar with.
Ryo's fingers were all over and wrapped around the black tie, and Kazuya felt his breath hitch just a little at the sudden closeness. It was odd, because normally, Kazuya initiated the first contact; it was like, until there wasn’t a move made by Kazuya first, Ryo wouldn't do anything. Of course, after the initial contact, and all that kissing and intimacy that came afterwards, Ryo wouldn’t hesitate. But the first moment they saw each other every day, Kazuya had to take that initiative.
Ryo's fingers were also wet, just like the state his hair was in. Kazuya reached forward, taking the towel that had fallen around Ryo's shoulders, and with a laugh - what he honestly thought to be the first time he actually laughed today - he helped Ryo dry his hair. Ryo waited patiently before, with a little smirk and fingers still clenching on Kazuya's tie, he pulled Kazuya in for a smothering kiss that left Kazuya breathless.
The few strands of Ryo's hair that were still a bit damp tickled Kazuya's face as the older man began to push him back to lie against the couch, hands pulling at and discarding Kazuya's tie. Then, those same hands, even though Ryo couldn't possibly see what he was doing, were between their bodies, unbuttoning Kazuya's dress shirt with practiced ease.
"I love you," Kazuya said, out of the blue this time; he never confessed his feelings until they were well into each other's bodies, and he was lost in the moment.
Ryo didn't answer; Ryo never did. Instead, he answered with soft, lingering touches down Kazuya's spine, across his stomach, and finally, confidently pulling at the rest of Kazuya's suit, until they were both left in only their boxers, clothes thrown on the floor.
"I really do, Ryo." Kazuya insisted.
Ryo stopped to look at Kazuya, with those intensely dark eyes; Kazuya stared back at them, before he moved to capture Ryo's lips in a kiss again; this time, he was the one to break off all conversation. Kazuya wanted to forget his day, he wanted to forget reality.
* * *
Kazuya couldn't make himself forget anymore. He was dressed again, and Ryo was asleep. He stared at Ryo's face, peaceful with dreams, and he had to smile softly and sadly.
There was no sound in the room, nothing to distract him from his thoughts, from his reality.
Kazuya leaned in, his lips extraordinarily close to Ryo's. He breathed out a heavy sigh, and whispered softly, "Ryo, I went to an omiai today."
There was a sharp intake of breath that wasn't his.
Kazuya's eyes flew up, to meet Ryo's dark ones; Ryo's eyes were staring at him, unflinching and unblinking. But Kazuya knew that look; he knew it all too well.
He was only frozen for a moment; that moment passed and Kazuya turned and bolted out of there.
* * *
By the time Kazuya worked up the courage to return to Ryo's apart - he knew he couldn’t stay away for long - it was a day later, and he opened the door tentatively. He wasn't sure what to expect after what he had admitted to Ryo, how he had admitted it, and the look that had been in Ryo's eyes.
It was a look that Kazuya knew too well; he hadn't seen it in so long. It was the look Ryo gave to other people they met when they went out, wrapping his hand around Kazuya's wrist carefully and meaningfully; it was the look Ryo had first given him when they had first met, not knowing that they would be swept up in this heavenly romance.
It was a look of wariness, of not trusting someone.
Except, Kazuya knew it was more than that; it was the realization that he had hurt Ryo that had caused that look to reappear.
"Ryo?" he ventured, calling out. Kazuya didn't get an answer, and he was filled with that familiar hesitation that
maybe, maybe Ryo had finally left this flat that was never home to him. This flat was merely a place to stay at, nothing more, and wouldn't have kept Ryo here for long. What if he decided that, after what Kazuya had revealed, what Kazuya had done, there was no need to remain here any longer?
He was brought out of his thoughts by a sound on the couch though, and Kazuya quickly walked over. What he saw broke his heart, really shattered it.
Ryo lay sprawled on the couch, a blanket covering him, and from the bottles of beer on the table nearby, he had been drinking.
Drinking a lot too, Kazuya realized as he counted the number of empty bottles lying around.
Kazuya leaned forward, moving Ryo's legs to make room for himself, and brushed his fingertips softly over Ryo's face; he had a sinking feeling about what had caused this drinking binge. Sure, Ryo drank sometimes; he did too, but not all this in one sitting, or even one day. He had gotten himself truly and utterly wasted.
Ryo's eyes opened at the touch, and Kazuya drew back hesitantly. Ryo stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” Kazuya said after a moment, looking down, “I wanted to tell you before, but…” he paused, “But I didn’t know how. This was the third meeting.” He finished carefully. He really hadn’t been able to figure out how he was supposed to tell Ryo that he was going to a meeting with a girl, and probably ended up being arranged to marry her. Even though he supposedly had a choice, Kazuya knew that the pressure his family would put on him would mean that he didn’t really. His family meant well, they just wanted him to find a girl to settle with, start a family, and be happy with, but they didn’t know that Kazuya had already given his heart to someone else. But they were insistent, and the fact that they kept making him go to these meetings, this one being the third, meant that they were determined and this was probably the girl they had decided on.
“You could have tried,” were the words that came out of Ryo's mouth and made Kazuya flinch.
There was a tense silence for a few moments.
“It’s okay,” Ryo said calmly after a moment, which was unsettling when his eyes were bloodshot and he still had the remnants of alcohol in his breath, “Did you like her?”
Startled by the question, Kazuya simply shrugged; he honestly didn’t know the girl, didn’t want to know her, well enough to make a decision about that.
Then, Ryo's expression turned into what Kazuya had expected: betrayed anger. He rolled back to lie on the couch and said with an angry sigh, “I should have known, you know, that one day you’d leave me too.”
Kazuya’s heart stopped at that.
“Does she have your heart now, like I do? Or did?” Ryo asked angrily; Kazuya didn’t blame him. He would be too if Ryo had told him he was probably set to be engaged sometime in the near future; no, he would be furious because to him, Ryo was his. He could understand.
Kazuya tried to reach out to take Ryo's hand, to try to ease the tension, but Ryo merely snatched it away. Then, Ryo rubbed his head tiredly, and he looked at Kazuya with the most vulnerable expression Kazuya had ever seen from him. It was hurt, it was heartbreak, and it was resignation.
“I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t do this.” Ryo said in a voice so quiet that it was more like a soft whisper.
“Ryo…” Kazuya reached out, this time being able to grab Ryo's hand; he held it tightly, drawing Ryo closer, until their lips met in a kiss. He relaxed, basking in the familiarity of this kiss: the intense emotions between them, it was something that could never be duplicated with anyone else, he knew that.
But it broke a moment later, when Ryo pushed him away.
“Ryo?”
Ryo turned his head away, “You should probably spend the time you have getting to know your future fiancée instead of coming to see me.” He said roughly.
Kazuya didn’t know what to say to that; he watched, in stunned silence, as Ryo stood up from the couch and walked over to the fridge to grab another beer. He watched Ryo, and it was only when he heard the popping sound of the beer being opened that he stumbled up and followed Ryo.
“Ryo, you can’t mean that…” he choked out.
“I do.” Ryo said flatly, “There’s no point in coming to see me anymore, you should try to make the best of it and try to find something in common with her. After all, you’ll be spending the rest of your life with her, not with me.” He said, “I spent yesterday doing more than just drinking. I was thinking too.”
No! Kazuya wanted to scream loudly, but he didn’t; instead, he grabbed Ryo's arm, “No, I can still do something about this. This - this doesn’t have to stop just because -”
Kazuya didn’t get to finish, because fury made its way onto Ryo's face, and Kazuya felt his wrist caught in a nearly painful grip. He looked down, barely registering the pain, and saw Ryo's fingers turning white as he dug them into Kazuya’s skin.
“You didn’t just say that,” Ryo growled out, and Kazuya had a feeling that all of this had caused Ryo to break down the walls around his heart in response, but it wasn’t what Kazuya wanted; Kazuya could only see the anger, the pain, instead of what he had always wanted to see.
Kazuya gasped, more from seeing all the anger and pain than any sort of pain from Ryo's grip.
An expression of grief crossed Ryo's face, and Kazuya felt like he would shatter into a thousand pieces right here and now; Ryo let go quickly enough, and he looked away, standing up. “I’m not going to be your relationship on the side,” Ryo said harshly.
Kazuya opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t what he had meant to say, but he knew, deep down, that he had been hoping for the easy way out. To keep Ryo, and keep his family’s approval as well; he wanted both, when he knew that to have both would mean lying to his family, and keeping Ryo a secret. It wasn’t fair to anyone.
Kazuya buried his head in his hands for a moment. He was startled when he felt a hand on the back of his head, and he relaxed into the touch, looking up.
But Ryo didn’t let him look at him for long. Ryo looked away again.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about what you do,” Ryo said with a touch of bitterness in his voice, “But you can’t have both, Kazuya. Choose one, and stick with that decision. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret, just like you wouldn’t want to be mine.”
Kazuya felt his heart sinking.
“You want me to be engaged,” he asked disbelievingly.
“I didn’t say that,” Ryo snapped, grabbing the beer bottle and getting up, “I’m saying you have to choose. You can’t have both anymore.”
Kazuya couldn’t look at Ryo right now; he knew what Ryo wanted wasn’t all that unreasonable, to know that Kazuya would be his and his only, just like Kazuya wanted Ryo to be his and his only, but the choice was between upsetting his family - and probably have them angry at him and never forgive him - and Ryo, and…
He faltered.
Ryo looked at him, and for a moment, Kazuya could see all that he had ever wanted to see from Ryo, but it was gone a moment later, as Ryo turned away. Ryo retreated into his bedroom, leaving Kazuya to stare at the door. It was like a choice was being given to him; Ryo's door meant that he would choose Ryo, but the main door meant that…he would leave and never come back.
“Ryo…”
He couldn’t decide; it was too hard, and he was afraid of what might happen if he abandoned everything - his family, his home - for Ryo - Ryo who still put up barriers around his heart, even around him.
He walked over to the door and leaned against it.
“Ryo, what do you want me to say?” he asked quietly.
There was silence, “I can’t choose for you.” Ryo responded darkly.
“But…if you could, if you would, would you tell me that you wanted me to choose you?” Kazuya questioned.
Ryo went quiet.
“Ryo…all you have to do is tell me to stay, and I will.”
“I won’t choose for you,” Ryo swung the door open, staring at Kazuya, “I’m not going to be responsible for one of the biggest choices of your life. I’m not going to be responsible for alienating you from your family. This has to be your choice.”
Ryo froze as Kazuya put a hand to his chest, “I just wish,” Kazuya said quietly, “That I could see more of your heart than what you’re willing to show me.” He said sadly.
And so, with a broken heart, that he tried to mask as whole, Kazuya walked out of the main door, only briefly aware that the moment he closed the door behind him, he heard a crashing noise that sounded exactly like a beer bottle breaking.
Every sound as he left the building sounded like sheer heartbreak to him.
* * *
The sound of instruments played amongst the light chatter in the reception room, and Kazuya couldn’t take his eyes off of the stage. A hand on his shoulder made him turn, and Kazuya shot a forced smile at his older brother; this was his anniversary celebration, and Kazuya knew his brothers were worried for him, even if they didn’t say it. They, more often than not, tried to push him to rest instead of making him help out whenever he could.
“I’m okay,” Kazuya said quickly before his brother could even ask.
Kazuya got an incredulous look in return, “The fact that you said that before I could even ask makes me think you’re not that okay.” The elder Kamenashi said, “But it could just be that we’re all busy and you have no one to talk to, so I made sure to get your friend to come along today.”
For a moment, Kazuya’s mind went into a state of panic, his eyes flickering toward the stage. However, when his brother pointed across the room, to where Koki was walking toward them with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Kazuya merely nodded - feeling both relieved and disappointed. He had thought - just thought - for a moment that maybe his brothers knew about why he was still reluctant to make a decision about the engagement, and that…
But that was stupid. They couldn’t know. Kazuya had once considered telling them, to ask them for advice, but a conversation with his parents the day after he left Ryo's flat made him reconsider that; they were putting so much pressure and hope into him, that he didn’t dare risk to disappoint them.
Kazuya knew that Ryo understood that, that he was being pressured to be the good son, the son that would never break his parents’ hearts, but Kazuya could feel a bit more of his own heart breaking each day that he put on the charade of happiness for them.
Kazuya was the second youngest son of four children. His parents weren’t exactly young, and the last thing Kazuya wanted to do was create grief for them. They weren’t trying to make him do anything he hated just because they were selfish - just the opposite, they wanted him to be happy - but Kazuya couldn’t exactly feel all that grateful about having his life partner decided for him.
Especially as he knew, more than anything else, that his heart belonged to Ryo.
In the time that he had left Ryo's flat, he had not stopped thinking about Ryo, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else. What he wanted to do, most of all, was to run to Ryo and announce what was in his heart: that he wanted Ryo and nothing was going to stop him.
But a few things were stopping him.
The disappointment he imagined from his parents when he would tell them about Ryo; the hesitation he felt when he thought about Ryo and the way he couldn’t be sure of the future. Not that he wasn’t sure, per se, but he would be more confident about his decision if he knew, from Ryo's own mouth, that he loved him just like he loved Ryo.
He wanted a future with Ryo, but not if he had to lose everything and everyone else he loved.
Kazuya hadn’t realized he had gone back to staring at the stage, at the band already playing, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was turned around. Kazuya blinked at Koki, who merely quirked a smile at him.
“So, is this fate or just really bad manipulation on your brothers’ behalf?” Koki asked, eyes flickering toward the stage.
Kazuya shot a furtive look at his brothers; his eldest, the one whose celebration it was tonight, was currently standing next to his wife and talking to their parents. His other brothers were going around making sure everything was going okay; apparently, they had decided that Kazuya had had enough on his plate and didn’t need to help out, much to Kazuya’s irritation when he had first been told.
“I really don’t think they know about Ryo,” Kazuya said honestly, eyes flickering toward the stage where Ryo was holding the microphone in his hands and singing; any other time, Kazuya would have relaxed into what he would have felt was heaven on earth, enclosed in Ryo's voice.
“Must be fate then,” Koki said with a callous shrug but looking pointedly at Kazuya.
Kazuya shot him a dirty look, “You stop that.” He demanded.
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Kazuya said flatly, “Stop it.”
“What? I’m only pointing out that you didn’t expect him to be here, and he probably didn’t expect you to be here either, by the gaping look he’s sending you right now. It’s probably fate,” Koki said decisively, “Or something like that.”
Kazuya strongly wanted to hit Koki over the head right now, but he refrained himself from it. Then, he looked toward the stage again, where Ryo was indeed staring at him like he had seen a ghost. Kazuya's lips quirked up just a bit; he had always liked to catch Ryo off guard, and it seemed that, now that they were apart, that still didn't change. He still felt the swell of triumph at getting past Ryo's normally well-established defences.
They stared at each other for a long while, before one of the guys in Ryo's made hit him over the head; Ryo looked away, shook himself a little, and then with a nod, gripped the microphone tightly again.
Kazuya felt his heart clench.
He could never seem to be able to shake off that undeniable connection he had to Ryo, that connection in which his heart always reached out and yearned for Ryo, no matter how much he wished it didn't. It would be so much easier to decide whether or not to break his parents' hearts and make himself happy, or to break his own heart and make his parents happy, if he could ignore that connection to Ryo.
It was a break in the set, the band taking a short rest, that Kazuya was startled from his thoughts by Koki nudging him roughly. Kazuya was about to glare at him, when he saw that Ryo was staring at him, and after a moment, Ryo strode purposefully toward him.
Kazuya froze, unable to move and only able to try to pretend that it didn’t affect him.
It did, it so did, but…
Ryo pushed past him, his calloused fingers brushing against Kazuya’s; it was almost like they were holding hands again, like the lovers they still should have been. The touch was lingering, yearning, and Kazuya wanted to give into those feelings all over again, his willpower shattered by the softest of touches from Ryo.
He forced his face to remain impassive, but inside, he was unravelling, becoming a total wreck; Ryo made a barely noticeable pause, and only those who knew that they were involved with each other would have noticed, as “Is this your answer?” was asked in a rough but quiet tone.
Kazuya didn’t reply, and Ryo kept walking past him, out the reception hall.
It was only after the man was well out of the hall that Koki nudged him, “What if it’s fate?” he teased, but his eyes were serious, “Kame, I need something from my car,” he announced loudly enough for people around them to hear, before tugging on Kazuya’s sleeve.
“Koki!” Kazuya hissed, but he didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Kame, don’t let it end like this. Even if you don’t go back to him, don’t let it end on bad terms. You love him so much, you’ll probably keep loving him all your life. Do you want him to come to hate you for that entire time?” Koki hissed.
Kazuya stopped arguing, stopped fighting; the idea of Ryo hating him tore at him worse than not being with Ryo. And he knew, then, that he had to at least try to talk to Ryo, like Koki said. So, before Koki could pull him again, Kazuya was walking briskly out the door, following the footsteps of Ryo that still resounded in his ears and his heart.
His heart quickened as he heard the footsteps start to fade, and he was breaking into a run and ignoring Koki’s pleased smirk, chasing after the dark eyes that had burned themselves deep into his heart.
--- END ----
That's it :D I left it as a sort of open-leaning-toward-hopeful ending haha. Actually, I had two other scenarios in mind for the ending, but this one worked way better than those two. One of which was Kame definitely chooses Ryo; another was that he didn't, but years later, they meet again, and Kame's divorced and Ryo's come out of a string of bad relationships XD I actually was leaning toward the 2nd one more, but in the end, I chose to end it right here because it had a slightly-implied-happy ending :D
lol, maybe I'm the only way who sees it this way, but I thought that the tightrope in the lyrics fit the fic well in the end, since for most of the fic, they were on the teetering, and almost falling. But that could just be me :D
*
Title: Perpetual
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)/ Bemu x Asou
Words: 2 730
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: Bemu (Youkai Ningen Bemu) x Asou (1 Litre of Tears).They were both just in need of a bit of rescuing.
Notes: written for raixas.
--
Dear raixas, sorry for the delay DDD: Hopefully, you'll like what came out of your prompt. It didn't end up as fluffy as I had hoped, but haha, I hope you still like it :DDD Bemu x Asou was certainly a very interesting pairing to write. XD
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Silver hair contrasted shockingly against the smooth, youthful skin of the man standing drenched in the rain with him. Asou Haruto wasn't one to be surprised, not even a little, in any way; he had long years of practice as a doctor to keep his facial expressions neutral, but the sight of rain drops falling on, and then trailing smoothly down this silver haired man's skin made him start just a little. When he had approached the shock of silver hair standing stiffly under a tree in the rain as Asou took a shortcut through a park to get home - not even being covered by the tree's branches - he had expected an elderly man caught in the rain, and despite everything inside that was telling him to just leave it alone, his honed instincts as a doctor - and remembering a time in the rain in his youth with a girl who still caused his heart to wrench in pain - had made him approach the man even though he himself was drenched.
He had merely thought, before seeing the young, smooth - and if Asou was honest with himself, beautiful - face of the man, that something had happened, that some elderly man was injured or something was making the man stand in the rain, limbs as stiff as a statue, almost like a resolute show in order not to be affected by something as simple as the rain.
Asou had thought something was wrong; no human should be that stoic, that statue-like, when cold, freezing rain fell in torrents onto him. Asou himself, despite his ability to numb himself to all else, was more than just freezing. And he had a proper coat on, while the clothes of this man were simply so wet that they stuck tightly to the body of this silver haired entity.
Entity, because the more Asou looked at this man, the more it seemed as though he wasn't anything as simple as a man; there was something simply otherworldly, ethereal, about him - from his silver hair, to the intense look in his eyes and to the rigid posture as he drew his gaze away from Asou and stared back out into the rain.
Asou wasn't convinced yet that nothing was wrong. The way the man looked - it all screamed to Asou's instincts that something was clearly wrong, whether it was physical or something deeper. Asou surveyed the man intently, before his eyes travelled to the man's hands, which were opening and closing more often than was normal, almost like a reaction to a pain that Asou couldn’t see.
Without thinking, he moved closer, and as the man's eyes trained on him warily, Asou took those hands in his, intent on investigating whatever it was that plagued the other.
It was a strange show of compassion, one that the Aya inside of Asou's head was laughing at him about right now. Aya, who caused Asou's heart to wrench painfully, but also made him feel at ease with the world around him, safe, just like the real Aya had once done. But the way Asou had alienated himself from everyone after Aya's death was something that the real Aya would have berated him about - which the Aya in his head had done many times already. He hadn't wanted to be close to anyone ever again, not if he didn't have to.
Since Aya's death, he had only ever been compassionate to people who needed him first. His patients were the only ones who ever saw a side of him that wasn't cold, detached, and secretly afraid to lose someone again. They needed him; everyone else didn't need him, so he didn't need them. But…that also encouraged his belief that people would just keep going away in life, because his patients didn't stay long - either their lives were unfortunate enough that they couldn't live out their lives, or they were fortunate, got better, and left the hospital - left Asou. Even when he was dragged out with coworkers, or friends, or family, he was always alone. He put a wall between himself and other people, but inside the Asou who wanted nothing to do with other people, there was still a desire to help people, help them in the way he had always wanted to help Aya. But that didn't happen often; in fact, there were few people who could claim to really know Asou.
Asou just didn't reach out to people.
Yet, for some reason, this silver-haired entity was making him reach out. Maybe it was the completely otherworldly feeling coming from him.
"Are you okay?" he asked after a long moment, still holding the man's hand; the opening and closing flexing movement had stopped, but there was still the twitch of his fingers. He wondered what it was, because he certainly couldn’t see the injury, but Asou could only relate this movement to the way someone who had injured their hand would keep moving it, testing the limits, despite the pain.
Asou's mind told him it was okay to help someone, he was a doctor and it was his job, but his heart protested against it. This wasn't one of his patients, he wasn't going to die from his injuries and there wasn't a desperate need for his presence; it was just an unnecessary risk.
Sometimes, you have to take risks, the little voice that Asou had long named Aya snapped at his heart.
His heart merely beat once in protest, and Asou’s breath caught in his chest as the silver haired man looked intently at him. Asou's hand travelled to this silver haired entity's wrist, and even though, once again, there was no obvious injury, a sudden flash of pain shot through the man's eyes, and he flinched.
Help him, Asou, Aya encouraged him.
Traitor, his much too careful heart accused with another beat.
* * *
Bemu was in a strange situation that he had never been in before. His heart was beating quickly as a human he had never seen before took his hand and asked him if he was alright. Then, Bemu had flinched without meaning to. His heart was racing in panic at the close proximity of this human. There was a conflicted look about this human, but after a few moments of staring at him, he had taken Bemu's hand and showed him this concern that Bemu wasn't used to from humans.
Especially not now.
Bemu wasn't injured - at least not anymore. His strange existence meant that he never really stayed injured for long, a few seconds at most; he couldn’t be hurt by human means, not even in his form that mimicked a human. He would heal far too quickly, but the memories of the sensations of pain, the betrayal of those who hurt him - those remained. He could still feel the burn of the fire as frightened people in the small town he had been in with Bela and Bero had tried to stave off the 'monsters' with fire torches and guns. He could feel the sensation of the flames travelling up his human form's arm before his accelerated healing kicked in and he was healed as the flames went. But, for a few brief seconds, when the flames had burned, he had felt that pain.
Those fleeting feelings during these attacks, the pain of betrayal, stayed with him in ways that no physical injuries ever did.
Because of the panic at the aggressiveness of the townsfolk, Bemu had gotten separated from Bela and Belo. They were to meet in a pre-determined city in a few days, if they were separated, and this was the case now. But along the way, once he had gotten to this town, Bemu hadn't been able to go on.
The heartbreak of such betrayal - such intense hatred for him, such desire to destroy him - did more damage to him than the flames ever would, and he hadn't been able to keep travelling. Once the rain hit, turning into a thunderstorm, he stood there, and cold raindrops hit his skin like little stabs of painful emotions. He revelled in it, having the outside world reflect what he felt on the inside.
And the moment this strange human had taken his hand, Bemu had jumped - his very recent experience with humans hadn't left him with much trust. It would take time to recover from this, like it always did. Betrayal never hurt any less, even if he had begun to come to expect this sort of thing. They had gone from town to town for so long, leaving each time they were found out and people turned on them, that he had begun to expect this reaction.
"I'm fine," Bemu finally answered, his voice a bit hoarse. He was torn; a part of him, the part that yearned to be human, wanted to draw closer into this strange man’s touch. Another part of him, tainted by his experiences with humans, told him to get away.
The other man had a slight frown on his face, though, as he peered closely at Bemu’s hand; Bemu wondered what he was looking for. It was almost as though he knew that was where Bemu had been injured earlier, where Bemu would probably have marks if he had been human.
“I’m a doctor,” the man explained quietly, his eyes conflicted as he looked at Bemu. For a moment, Bemu recognized some of the same emotions that he himself often felt. It astounded Bemu that the same wariness he felt for humans was reflected in this man’s eyes - along with the desire, the desperation, to be wanted, to be needed. Bemu hadn’t realized, until now, that it was possible for anyone to feel the same way that he, Bela, and Belo did.
“Asou Haruto,” the man continued, “It’s just…it seems like you’ve injured it recently or something.” He commented, still surveying his hand, “You keep flexing it, like you expect it to hurt when you do. Like you’re testing its limits.” He frowned in confusion, then he added, “It’s because I’m a doctor that I want to help you. Nothing else.”
Bemu merely stared in surprise; he hadn’t expected someone to notice that. It wasn’t that it still hurt, it was that he still remembered the brief seconds when it had hurt.
“I…was injured recently,” Bemu admitted slowly, “It’s nothing.” He meant to take his hand away, but instead, he found that he couldn’t. He was suddenly realizing that this was what it felt like to be a human, to be cared for like he was one of them; even if this Asou was trying to deny that it was only because of his responsibilities as a professional that he cared, Bemu could hear the man’s heart beating, quickening. He cared more than he wanted to.
Just like Bemu, he cared but didn’t dare to show it.
So, to find an outlet for that compassion, Bemu tried to help people, save people; to find an outlet for his compassion, Asou was a doctor, doing the same.
Was he really not all that different from this man?
Asou was helping him move his fingers, curling them and watching Bemu’s face intently. Bemu found that his breath was caught at the way those obsidian eyes stayed on him.
Then, as if satisfied that he wasn’t feeling any pain right now, Asou relaxed his hold on Bemu’s hand. A moment later, Asou shuddered and wrapped his other arm tentatively around himself. Just as he did, a chagrined expression crossed Asou’s face and he dropped his arm, as if embarrassed that -
That he was in the cold, in the rain, which Bemu had forgotten even though it was somewhat uncomfortable, it was probably even colder for a human.
Bemu’s eyes narrowed at Asou, “Aren’t you cold?” he asked.
Asou tried to shrug as though he wasn’t, but he was shivering under his coat; Bemu could tell right away, he just didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before. He took his hand out of Asou’s, even though the doctor was trying to hold on, and he shrugged off his own coat, thin as it was and held it up, over Asou’s head. Even if it wasn’t doing much for the cold, it was at least keeping the rain off the doctor. Bemu peered under his jacket at Asou, his own body getting wetter, but Bemu merely shrugged it off.
Asou stared at him, and then he snapped out, “You’ll freeze to death.”
Bemu merely smiled a little, starting to understand this doctor a bit more. He was just like Bemu. He tried to hide that he cared more than he wanted to care; Bemu hid it because he was afraid of what would happen should others find out about him. This doctor hid it because - well, he didn’t know exactly why but from the look in his eyes, Bemu had a feeling that he had been hurt before.
“I’m fine,” Bemu reassured him; he was. He wasn’t entirely affected by the rain; it was uncomfortable, but it didn’t bother him like it was bothering Asou.
After a moment, Asou glared, “How can you say that? The rain is freezing. You don’t even have a proper coat on now!”
Bemu offered another smile, “I’m not bothered by the cold. Besides, I should thank you.”
“For what?” Asou asked incredulously.
“For trying to help a stranger when you didn’t need to.” Bemu replied.
In his head, he added, For reminding me why I wanted to be a human so badly, and why I should keep believing.
Asou made a grumbling noise, and he made to argue, but Bemu had put his hand to Asou’s forehead, “Thank you.” He said sincerely, looking into Asou’s eyes. Asou stared back at him, but a moment later, his eyes were closing, and Bemu caught the doctor before he fell. He knew that it was a matter of time before this happened; Bemu’s jacket couldn’t really keep the cold at bay, only the rain, and he knew that his time in the rain helping Bemu would take its toll on the human’s body.
As strong as Asou was, he was still human.
Bemu had known this would happen, expected it, so he knew what to do. Asou collapsing, the cold weakening his body like this, allowed him to slowly wrap an arm around Asou, pulling the human close, shielding him from the rain and, hopefully, helping to warm him up a little. He knew that he should bring Asou to a hospital, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to interact with another human just yet.
His wounds from the last encounter, not visible, still felt fresh.
Asou was merely an exception.
So, he tentatively held the doctor close, trying to convince himself that the way his heart was beating quicker was merely because he had never been so close to a human.
“Thank you,” he said again, knowing that Asou couldn’t hear him.
* * *
The first thing Asou saw when he opened his eyes was the bright sun in the sky, and he could smell the scent of rain and wet grass all around him. The storm must have stopped. He then blinked when he realized he was lying somewhere outdoors and he sat up with a jolt.
He looked around wildly, trying to locate that silver-haired man he had encountered in the rain. That was the last thing he remembered - he hadn’t…
It couldn’t all have been a dream, could it? No, there was no way. Asou wasn’t one to give into fantasizing, and even if he did, most of his fantasies involved a miracle in which Aya lived. Besides, why else would he have been lying on a bench, secluded from the rest of the park?
It was then that Asou realized that something had fallen off him; he reached over and picked up a worn, dark jacket.
“What happened?” Asou asked himself softly, still trying to seek out the silver haired man even though he knew in his mind that that man was long gone.
You reached out to someone, Aya’s voice in his mind said just as softly.
Asou merely held the jacket tighter in response, and his eyes caught a glimpse of a strand of silver hair caught in the collar.
--- END ---
Hope you liked it! I...actually had a bit of trouble with the prompt, seeing as Bemu tends to heal faster than normal and doesn't really have lasting injuries, so I took your injured prompt in a figurative sense :D The title of this fic comes from the idea that they both have scars that will never disappear, that aren't always visible, so Perpetual - everlasting and all that. I hope that, despite the lack of physical injuries, and the angst at the beginning I'm sorry, I couldn't write the whole fic with fluff; these are two very very very angsty characters XDDD that you still liked it! :D
lol, i also made Asou a bit touched in the head, with the Aya thing XDDD i just had to add Aya in there somehow XDD *clears throat* I know you said only Bemu being healed in your prompt, but I kind of made it so that they helped each other out? Equally the heroes or whatnot XDD So I hope you still enjoyed this :D
Also, only two more fics left. I hope to get those done soon, but...finals are coming up, so we'll see! :D