#10 Theme 22: Isolation - Mika Nakashima; Tora/Hiroto
Title: White Lies
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 022 Isolation (Mika Nakashima)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: smut, angst, AU
Comments: This song really just goes with this.
White Lies
“Miss me?”
The voice on the other end of the receiver sounds hollow, empty, faraway; the line echoes and fuzzes over for a minute. He thinks he can hear the sounds of passing cars hundreds of miles away. The distance is tangible, ever-present and, somehow, he can’t bring himself to lie.
“It’s okay. It’s kind of the same.”
It’s okay. It’s kind of the same.
He’s always been honest, always told the truth because lies got you in trouble. Lies dug you a hole so deep life beneath the dirt was all you had left. Truth. Wasn’t that one of the reasons they got together - because they could trust each other?
Even so, the accompanying silence weighs heavy on his heart. Now he’s just avoiding the question isn’t he? Technically. Now he’s just standing there, alone in the darkened hallway, bare feet on hard wood, one hand on the phone, the other curled round a table’s edge. Maybe he’s just exhausted, tired from a long day’s work, because right now he just wants to hang up and go back to sleep on the couch.
“Oh… I kind of wish I were home too. Business is pretty boring.”
The conversation breaks off into insignificant tangents about work, the weather, people. Like strangers making small talk , all he can think about is how the distant voice feels weird. His feet squeak quietly on the floor. He’s tempted to sit down, but he knows these calls don’t last long anyway.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, ‘kay Pon?”
He always seems to hesitate before speaking into the phone, holding it a few inches away like it might bite him. Voices on the other end never feel quite as real as the text messages sent to his cell phone, the emails in his inbox.
“I’ll be seeing you then.” He repeats it louder a second time, mouth too far to filter through.
“Hiroto, I love you.” It almost comes off sounding like a reminder in his ear.
“Love you too Tora.”
That I he can’t seem to say, it scares him. I love you. He’s scared he won’t mean it. I miss you. That it might not be true. He doesn’t want it to be a lie, he hopes it’s not a lie.
He’s afraid where it’ll take him.
Hiroto doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is love, if this was what it felt like to miss someone. He can’t be sure if he’ll just be lying.
They hang up together and retreat to separate beds.
Hiroto falls asleep quickly - it comes as easy as it does every night. The fatigue and hard labor clears his mind and relaxes his body into a half-empty bed. Miles away Tora can only sit in the dark waiting for sleep to come. He hates being away, it bothers him, and the phones calls never help. They only make him worry more and force his mind into restless thoughts.
---
The next day is a day off so Hiroto takes his time waking up.
He rolls to the middle of the bed and stretches, turning his head to the left where Tora usually sleeps.
He notices for the first time how the top of Tora’s bedside table is completely covered with books and bills, strange colored sheets of paper that look vaguely familiar stacked around a sleek lamp. He rolls closer and quickly realizes it’s a pile of all Tora’s favorite books mixed in with all the cards, small drawings, notes and presents Hiroto has ever given him.
The smile tugging at his lips straightens into a grimace when he recalls last night’s phone call. The longer he’s left alone the more out of place he feels talking. At work he can simply take orders and go through the motions, but when he gets home to an empty house he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Trying to brush off the pensive mood settling beneath his skin, Hiroto showers and eats hastily before locking up and heading out to the grocery store. Tora would be coming back home sometime today and he wanted to make sure there would be food in the fridge and a decent meal on the table. Being away made him grouchy, getting on a plane made him ten times the grouch. Chuckling softly, Hiroto continued down the aisle concentrating on the clatter of food in carts.
---
When he gets home Hiroto isn’t surprised to find the house still empty. It’s always been a habit of his to start the day early and today hadn’t been any different.
Unpacking the groceries and storing them away distracts him from the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, the soft tap and muted thump of a suitcase and bag being placed next to a pair of polished shoes. He doesn’t notice until a pair of large hands still he movements and he’s being pressed into the nearest wall, hot mouth parted against his.
It’s like this every time Tora comes back from his long trips. He’s agitated, tense, hungry. A thrill of anticipation shudders down Hiroto’s spine at the thought as his finger slide past the waistband of Tora’s dark slacks and a possessive growl sounds against his ear. He’s suddenly picked up, gripped firmly by the ass and carried to the empty counter near the sink.
They’re still mostly dressed when Tora takes him rough, back arched and sweating on marbled countertop. He doesn’t know what to call the way Tora’s sucking and scratching lines across his chest and neck, shirt pulled halfway up stretched halfway down, the way Tora’s sunk so deep inside of him his chest feels ready to burst from just the feeling.
Hiroto’s toes curl in his socks as a keening moan leaves his lips and when his mind comes back down to him - Tora heavy and panting on top of him - his jeans, still wrapped around one leg, feel heavy.
“Did you miss me?” There’s an almost bitter smirk behind the words, Tora’s forehead resting on heaving skin.
“It was okay.” If Hiroto tilts his head a bit more on the counter he can see the TV in their living room, the half-closed door of their bedroom.
“Come on Pon, you can tell me when you’re lonely you know.” He’s only met with a questioning hum he can feel deep beneath smooth skin.
“I just went to work and stuff,” Hiroto replies. He smiles tentatively, abruptly remembering the night’s phone call. Tipping his head back towards Tora’s to meet his eyes, Hiroto tries to give him as sincere a look as he can.
He’s not lying, every day feels like the one before it and he’s become so used to disappointment, has learned to wait for what he wants.
Tora looks away, slightly perturbed.
It’s the same look that keeps him awake at night, the same guarded eyes that make Tora feel like Hiroto’s been hiding something and waiting for the right moment to tell him. Tora’s not too sure he wants to know what that something is. Not sure because he doesn’t know what that something is.
Slowly rising off his elbows, he tilts Hiroto’s hips forward and slowly slips out, making them both inhale sharply at the feel of sensitive on sensitive skin, making Hiroto’s legs twitch around him before Tora’s moving away. He rips paper towels from a roll and cleans them up, pulling on his boxers and zipping his pants before making his way around the counter to get his forgotten belongings.
Hiroto sits next to the sink worried he’s somehow offended Tora until he’s hugged from behind, turned around into a kiss and the worry vanishes.
“It’s good to be home again,” Tora says, grabbing Hiroto’s boxers and pants and helping him put them on.
---
They start an early lunch, easing back into their usual routine and a comfortable silence until they’re sitting opposite each other with food on their plates. Tora fiddles nervously with his food, thumbing ceramic and jiggling his legs under the table. He’s got something to tell Hiroto but he’s not sure how the other will react. Hiroto wonders if it’ll be good news, if the trips are going to stop and he won’t have to talk to Tora over the phone anymore. He keeps his head down either way, slurping up pasta when Tora finally starts.
“I have to leave again.” He sounds almost resigned now. “Tomorrow.” Hiroto looks up at that. He’d taken the rest of the month off to spend more time with Tora, all his vacation and sick days rolled into one. He was just about to tell him.
“But I thought you weren’t leaving ‘til next month…” he trails off, looking at Tora hopefully.
“The department heads are being complete asses. I tried to talk them into giving me at least a week to rest, but they said it was either tomorrow or they’d get someone else to do it.” Hiroto nods along, faking an encouraging smile, and goes back to eating.
“Last week went really well so they want to speed things up and get the deal signed and legal as soon as possible. I… I have to leave around noon for my flight, but at least when I get back we can go on a real vacation.” It’s Tora’s turn to bitterly fake a smile and pick at his food, brooding the words they just exchanged.
“I’ll call.” He murmurs the last sentence like it’ll ease whatever apprehensions Hiroto may have.
His response is a soft “Oh.” Hiroto’s face is unreadable, he’s just eating and it’s not making anything easier for Tora.
“Um… well… I don’t have work tomorrow. Do you want me to come see you off?” He looks up from his food again, wanting Tora to ask why he didn’t have work tomorrow.
“That’s okay,” Tora quickly declines. “I’m leaving at noon to get to the office early for my debriefing. They’ll give me my ticket there and shuttle me off to the airport. It’ll probably take a couple of hours, I’m not even sure myself, so you should probably just stay at home and rest.”
“Oh, no it’s fine,” Hiroto hurriedly assures. “I was just asking… I don’t want to be in the way.”
“I’ll wake you up before I go,” he says tenderly. It was a silly thing to say, really. Hiroto usually woke up hours before Tora himself. Sometimes he even got up before sunrise to get to a construction site on time. “Let’s just relax today.”
---
That night Tora fucked him into the mattress so hard, marked him and claimed him over and over again, so many times the next morning Tora really did have to wake Hiroto before he left. As it was Hiroto could barely crack an eyelid open when a soft kiss was placed on his lips.
“Bye Pon.”
He nearly went back to sleep, finally comprehending the words whispered into his ear before he was scrambling up out of the sheets, stumbling out of the tangled mess and tumbling half-naked on still trembling legs into the hallway just in time to wish Tora a safe trip.
Tora waves, smiling with his lip, but saying something entirely different with his eyes.
He was gone again. Just like that. And it didn’t really surprise anyone when Hiroto showed up for work not even a week into his vacation. He was hardworking, honest. Their manager couldn’t see how delaying his vacation another month would hurt anyone.
---
It takes nearly three weeks before Tora calls.
Somewhere during the first week Hiroto had figured Tora was too busy to call, what with his superiors hurrying him along for the contract and all the meetings he was probably stuck in. He almost called Tora’s cell the second week to remind him to take it easy, but by then he’d also figured Tora would be tired from all the work and need all the rest he could get.
He pickes the phone up without hesitation; Tora was the only one who ever called this late anyway.
“Hey Hiroto.”
“Hey Tora.”
“Miss me?”
Hiroto blanks for a minute, staring at the wall, searching through his overworked thoughts and sun burnt heart for the right answer. Was there a right answer? He had always hated it when people asked him the same question. His mom. His dad. His friends and brother.
“It’s been the same. I just got home late from work.”
It’s the same. It’s always the same.
There’s a long pause. Hiroto can’t hear the miles away cars anymore. This time there’s only clattering and chinking, voices humming in the background.
“I thought so…”
Had he always been this detached?
“Look, I’m at my parents house right now. I… don’t think I’ll be coming back… back there at least. We can talk in the morning if you want, but I think I’ve made up my mind. We just don’t love each other anymore... I guess... I don’t think I can come back there anymore.”
Even after all the times it’s happened Hiroto still doesn’t know what to say to the all too familiar spiel.
Words are on the tip of his tongue. So many words. But he can’t name a single one, doesn’t know if any of them are even true, doesn’t want it to be a lie.
“You can have anything I’ve left behind. I already… took everything I need.”
The bedside table slips into mind, the untouched stacks and accumulating dust.
“Tora I-“
“It’s okay Pon. You don’t have to fake it for me anymore.”
And the line goes dead. Just like that.
He gingerly puts the phone back into its holder like its teeth have gotten twice as big.
He patters quietly back to an empty, empty beds. Builds a new wall around his empty, empty heart.
The sheets pull up to his chest and he cries his loneliness into the pillow. Cries because he knows no one will walk in to see him at his weakest. Cries knowing he’s never let anyone see him at his weakest. Cries wishing the white lies he should have told could glue them back together now that he was gone.
Cries because he wonders if everyone will keeping leaving him until there’s nothing left to leave.
A/N:
;_; What… what happened?
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 022 Isolation (Mika Nakashima)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: smut, angst, AU
Comments: This song really just goes with this.
White Lies
“Miss me?”
The voice on the other end of the receiver sounds hollow, empty, faraway; the line echoes and fuzzes over for a minute. He thinks he can hear the sounds of passing cars hundreds of miles away. The distance is tangible, ever-present and, somehow, he can’t bring himself to lie.
“It’s okay. It’s kind of the same.”
It’s okay. It’s kind of the same.
He’s always been honest, always told the truth because lies got you in trouble. Lies dug you a hole so deep life beneath the dirt was all you had left. Truth. Wasn’t that one of the reasons they got together - because they could trust each other?
Even so, the accompanying silence weighs heavy on his heart. Now he’s just avoiding the question isn’t he? Technically. Now he’s just standing there, alone in the darkened hallway, bare feet on hard wood, one hand on the phone, the other curled round a table’s edge. Maybe he’s just exhausted, tired from a long day’s work, because right now he just wants to hang up and go back to sleep on the couch.
“Oh… I kind of wish I were home too. Business is pretty boring.”
The conversation breaks off into insignificant tangents about work, the weather, people. Like strangers making small talk , all he can think about is how the distant voice feels weird. His feet squeak quietly on the floor. He’s tempted to sit down, but he knows these calls don’t last long anyway.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, ‘kay Pon?”
He always seems to hesitate before speaking into the phone, holding it a few inches away like it might bite him. Voices on the other end never feel quite as real as the text messages sent to his cell phone, the emails in his inbox.
“I’ll be seeing you then.” He repeats it louder a second time, mouth too far to filter through.
“Hiroto, I love you.” It almost comes off sounding like a reminder in his ear.
“Love you too Tora.”
That I he can’t seem to say, it scares him. I love you. He’s scared he won’t mean it. I miss you. That it might not be true. He doesn’t want it to be a lie, he hopes it’s not a lie.
He’s afraid where it’ll take him.
Hiroto doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is love, if this was what it felt like to miss someone. He can’t be sure if he’ll just be lying.
They hang up together and retreat to separate beds.
Hiroto falls asleep quickly - it comes as easy as it does every night. The fatigue and hard labor clears his mind and relaxes his body into a half-empty bed. Miles away Tora can only sit in the dark waiting for sleep to come. He hates being away, it bothers him, and the phones calls never help. They only make him worry more and force his mind into restless thoughts.
---
The next day is a day off so Hiroto takes his time waking up.
He rolls to the middle of the bed and stretches, turning his head to the left where Tora usually sleeps.
He notices for the first time how the top of Tora’s bedside table is completely covered with books and bills, strange colored sheets of paper that look vaguely familiar stacked around a sleek lamp. He rolls closer and quickly realizes it’s a pile of all Tora’s favorite books mixed in with all the cards, small drawings, notes and presents Hiroto has ever given him.
The smile tugging at his lips straightens into a grimace when he recalls last night’s phone call. The longer he’s left alone the more out of place he feels talking. At work he can simply take orders and go through the motions, but when he gets home to an empty house he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Trying to brush off the pensive mood settling beneath his skin, Hiroto showers and eats hastily before locking up and heading out to the grocery store. Tora would be coming back home sometime today and he wanted to make sure there would be food in the fridge and a decent meal on the table. Being away made him grouchy, getting on a plane made him ten times the grouch. Chuckling softly, Hiroto continued down the aisle concentrating on the clatter of food in carts.
---
When he gets home Hiroto isn’t surprised to find the house still empty. It’s always been a habit of his to start the day early and today hadn’t been any different.
Unpacking the groceries and storing them away distracts him from the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, the soft tap and muted thump of a suitcase and bag being placed next to a pair of polished shoes. He doesn’t notice until a pair of large hands still he movements and he’s being pressed into the nearest wall, hot mouth parted against his.
It’s like this every time Tora comes back from his long trips. He’s agitated, tense, hungry. A thrill of anticipation shudders down Hiroto’s spine at the thought as his finger slide past the waistband of Tora’s dark slacks and a possessive growl sounds against his ear. He’s suddenly picked up, gripped firmly by the ass and carried to the empty counter near the sink.
They’re still mostly dressed when Tora takes him rough, back arched and sweating on marbled countertop. He doesn’t know what to call the way Tora’s sucking and scratching lines across his chest and neck, shirt pulled halfway up stretched halfway down, the way Tora’s sunk so deep inside of him his chest feels ready to burst from just the feeling.
Hiroto’s toes curl in his socks as a keening moan leaves his lips and when his mind comes back down to him - Tora heavy and panting on top of him - his jeans, still wrapped around one leg, feel heavy.
“Did you miss me?” There’s an almost bitter smirk behind the words, Tora’s forehead resting on heaving skin.
“It was okay.” If Hiroto tilts his head a bit more on the counter he can see the TV in their living room, the half-closed door of their bedroom.
“Come on Pon, you can tell me when you’re lonely you know.” He’s only met with a questioning hum he can feel deep beneath smooth skin.
“I just went to work and stuff,” Hiroto replies. He smiles tentatively, abruptly remembering the night’s phone call. Tipping his head back towards Tora’s to meet his eyes, Hiroto tries to give him as sincere a look as he can.
He’s not lying, every day feels like the one before it and he’s become so used to disappointment, has learned to wait for what he wants.
Tora looks away, slightly perturbed.
It’s the same look that keeps him awake at night, the same guarded eyes that make Tora feel like Hiroto’s been hiding something and waiting for the right moment to tell him. Tora’s not too sure he wants to know what that something is. Not sure because he doesn’t know what that something is.
Slowly rising off his elbows, he tilts Hiroto’s hips forward and slowly slips out, making them both inhale sharply at the feel of sensitive on sensitive skin, making Hiroto’s legs twitch around him before Tora’s moving away. He rips paper towels from a roll and cleans them up, pulling on his boxers and zipping his pants before making his way around the counter to get his forgotten belongings.
Hiroto sits next to the sink worried he’s somehow offended Tora until he’s hugged from behind, turned around into a kiss and the worry vanishes.
“It’s good to be home again,” Tora says, grabbing Hiroto’s boxers and pants and helping him put them on.
---
They start an early lunch, easing back into their usual routine and a comfortable silence until they’re sitting opposite each other with food on their plates. Tora fiddles nervously with his food, thumbing ceramic and jiggling his legs under the table. He’s got something to tell Hiroto but he’s not sure how the other will react. Hiroto wonders if it’ll be good news, if the trips are going to stop and he won’t have to talk to Tora over the phone anymore. He keeps his head down either way, slurping up pasta when Tora finally starts.
“I have to leave again.” He sounds almost resigned now. “Tomorrow.” Hiroto looks up at that. He’d taken the rest of the month off to spend more time with Tora, all his vacation and sick days rolled into one. He was just about to tell him.
“But I thought you weren’t leaving ‘til next month…” he trails off, looking at Tora hopefully.
“The department heads are being complete asses. I tried to talk them into giving me at least a week to rest, but they said it was either tomorrow or they’d get someone else to do it.” Hiroto nods along, faking an encouraging smile, and goes back to eating.
“Last week went really well so they want to speed things up and get the deal signed and legal as soon as possible. I… I have to leave around noon for my flight, but at least when I get back we can go on a real vacation.” It’s Tora’s turn to bitterly fake a smile and pick at his food, brooding the words they just exchanged.
“I’ll call.” He murmurs the last sentence like it’ll ease whatever apprehensions Hiroto may have.
His response is a soft “Oh.” Hiroto’s face is unreadable, he’s just eating and it’s not making anything easier for Tora.
“Um… well… I don’t have work tomorrow. Do you want me to come see you off?” He looks up from his food again, wanting Tora to ask why he didn’t have work tomorrow.
“That’s okay,” Tora quickly declines. “I’m leaving at noon to get to the office early for my debriefing. They’ll give me my ticket there and shuttle me off to the airport. It’ll probably take a couple of hours, I’m not even sure myself, so you should probably just stay at home and rest.”
“Oh, no it’s fine,” Hiroto hurriedly assures. “I was just asking… I don’t want to be in the way.”
“I’ll wake you up before I go,” he says tenderly. It was a silly thing to say, really. Hiroto usually woke up hours before Tora himself. Sometimes he even got up before sunrise to get to a construction site on time. “Let’s just relax today.”
---
That night Tora fucked him into the mattress so hard, marked him and claimed him over and over again, so many times the next morning Tora really did have to wake Hiroto before he left. As it was Hiroto could barely crack an eyelid open when a soft kiss was placed on his lips.
“Bye Pon.”
He nearly went back to sleep, finally comprehending the words whispered into his ear before he was scrambling up out of the sheets, stumbling out of the tangled mess and tumbling half-naked on still trembling legs into the hallway just in time to wish Tora a safe trip.
Tora waves, smiling with his lip, but saying something entirely different with his eyes.
He was gone again. Just like that. And it didn’t really surprise anyone when Hiroto showed up for work not even a week into his vacation. He was hardworking, honest. Their manager couldn’t see how delaying his vacation another month would hurt anyone.
---
It takes nearly three weeks before Tora calls.
Somewhere during the first week Hiroto had figured Tora was too busy to call, what with his superiors hurrying him along for the contract and all the meetings he was probably stuck in. He almost called Tora’s cell the second week to remind him to take it easy, but by then he’d also figured Tora would be tired from all the work and need all the rest he could get.
He pickes the phone up without hesitation; Tora was the only one who ever called this late anyway.
“Hey Hiroto.”
“Hey Tora.”
“Miss me?”
Hiroto blanks for a minute, staring at the wall, searching through his overworked thoughts and sun burnt heart for the right answer. Was there a right answer? He had always hated it when people asked him the same question. His mom. His dad. His friends and brother.
“It’s been the same. I just got home late from work.”
It’s the same. It’s always the same.
There’s a long pause. Hiroto can’t hear the miles away cars anymore. This time there’s only clattering and chinking, voices humming in the background.
“I thought so…”
Had he always been this detached?
“Look, I’m at my parents house right now. I… don’t think I’ll be coming back… back there at least. We can talk in the morning if you want, but I think I’ve made up my mind. We just don’t love each other anymore... I guess... I don’t think I can come back there anymore.”
Even after all the times it’s happened Hiroto still doesn’t know what to say to the all too familiar spiel.
Words are on the tip of his tongue. So many words. But he can’t name a single one, doesn’t know if any of them are even true, doesn’t want it to be a lie.
“You can have anything I’ve left behind. I already… took everything I need.”
The bedside table slips into mind, the untouched stacks and accumulating dust.
“Tora I-“
“It’s okay Pon. You don’t have to fake it for me anymore.”
And the line goes dead. Just like that.
He gingerly puts the phone back into its holder like its teeth have gotten twice as big.
He patters quietly back to an empty, empty beds. Builds a new wall around his empty, empty heart.
The sheets pull up to his chest and he cries his loneliness into the pillow. Cries because he knows no one will walk in to see him at his weakest. Cries knowing he’s never let anyone see him at his weakest. Cries wishing the white lies he should have told could glue them back together now that he was gone.
Cries because he wonders if everyone will keeping leaving him until there’s nothing left to leave.
A/N:
;_; What… what happened?
Archive