Title: Weary
Characters: Oshitari Yuushi, Mukahi Gakuto
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Gakuto comes to Yuushi, wet and miserable.
Notes: This was written because, as
sanguine_vlos pointed out, OshiGaku is dead. :( Sooo I'm gonna see if I can write them whenever I can in hopes of boosting them in a fandom where everything has become OshiAto. I still love them a lot, even if I love ShishiGaku too.
Gakuto in the rain was everything like a wet kitten. Miserable, irritated, complaining, and utterly, completely adorable.
"Lets get you inside," was all Yuushi said as said soaking Gakuto appeared on his doorstep.
"I'm not walking home in this," was Gakuto's only explanation as he dripped puddles in Yuushi's entryway, slowly shedding layers of hoodie, vest, tanktop, pants, and somehow he was still wearing a shirt and shorts.
"I wouldn't expect you to," Yuushi replied, carrying a towel from the bathroom, which he promptly plopped on Gakuto's hair to start soaking up the dripping red locks. There were times when Yuushi half expected the water to run red from such a vibrant color, but the only color the towel turned was a darker blue from the water soaking into it.
Yuushi then methodically started hanging the shed clothing on hooks on the wall, spreading another towel on the floor to catch the dripping water.
"Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?" Gakuto asked sarcastically, leaning against the wall and settling the towel around his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to settle it right again and glaring as his fingers got caught in tangles.
Yuushi gave him a good look over, and while Gakuto's bad mood wasn't anything new, his muscles seemed tense and yet he looked loose in the mind at the same time. "I don't think I'd like the answer," he stated calmly, his tone daring Gakuto to refute it. His distaste for Gakuto's late night activities was palpable, and the wet redhead turned his glare on Yuushi, defensive like a cat puffing up his fur.
"I'm not in the fucking mood for your self righteous attitude, Yuushi. If you don't want me here you shouldn't have let me in." Gakuto, although he was short, managed to stare down Yuushi with his intensity as he pushed away from the wall and stalked a couple steps closer until the smell of alcohol on his breath was obvious.
Yuushi didn't back down, didn't say a word, only noticed that Gakuto was trembling. A shake that got worse and worse with every moment, whether from anger or cold or something else, and finally Gakuto tore his eyes away from Yuushi, deflating. "Fuck," he swore, and reached past the taller man to rip his hoodie from the hook. "I'm leaving. What the hell, Yuushi?"
That spurred Yuushi into action, and he quickly got between Gakuto and the door to block his way out. He wanted to teach Gakuto a lesson, tell him to deal with the problems he knowingly but unthinkingly got himself into on his own, but then he realized that even drunk and upset, Gakuto had come to him for help. The question had been a plea disguised as a taunt, and his cold front lowered into something of apologetic concern. "Why did you come to me?" he asked softly.
"I'm asking myself the same question," Gakuto spat back, not soothed by just that. In fact he tried to push past Yuushi, who only remained steadfast.
"Gakuto," Yuushi continued, an admonition, but worried. "Please don't leave. I'm sorry." He knew when to accept his loss and put away his pride to fix a situation. Something that Gakuto didn't. "What happened?"
"Nothing, alright. It just started raining and your place was closer because that fucking bastard kicked me out." Gakuto was shaking again, this time clearly from anger, but not at Yuushi.
Yuushi stepped away from the door, wanting to guide Gakuto further in the house, but the man stayed where he was, eyes glaring unseeingly through Yuushi's chest. Yuushi lifted a hand to brush lightly over Gakuto's shoulder, trying to snap him out of the memories that were obviously just making things worse. "That doesn't sound like nothing. Why were you kicked out?" It wasn't unusual for Gakuto to spend his nights with strange men, in fact there had been quite a few of them because Gakuto didn't like staying with any one of them for very long.
Gakuto snorted, but rather than sharp and angry his voice came out in a derisive mutter, "His girlfriend came home." But before Yuushi could offer any comfort or even an 'I told you so', Gakuto continued, "Whatever, wouldn't be the first time I was just someone's fucking mistress."
That swept away all that was left of Yuushi's urge to scold him, because as much as Gakuto tried to make it sound like he didn't care, his tone was flat and worn. The hurt was there, as an old ache that Gakuto tried to cover up with more of the same thing. Drinking, sex, everything but the commitment that he was actually searching for, whether he knew it or not. "Gakuto..." he started softly, looking down at him and brushing fingers through those wet strands of hair.
But Gakuto just made more of an effort not to look at Yuushi, gazing down at the wet floor. "I'm tired, Yuushi," he said in a small voice, weariness evident in the droop of his shoulders, but Yuushi wasn't so sure that sleepiness the only thing Gakuto was talking about.
Yuushi stepped forward, just that little bit more, and wrapped his arms around Gakuto in a hug, who for once didn't protest. He didn't hug back either, but the slight slump against Yuushi's chest was enough for him.
"Come on then," Yuushi said softly, his hand caressing Gakuto's back soothingly, "You can stay the night."