Just Let Me Love You, AoixRuki, [ONESHOT]

Apr 16, 2010 17:45



Title: Just Let Me Love You
Author: losseflame 
Chapters: ONESHOT
Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst
Warnings: Character Death, Language
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: AoixRuki
Synopsis: “I’ll take care of him.”
Comments: So, in my continuing drought of muse, I have decided to practice writing museless. Which is basically like flying blind in the middle of a maelstrom. So, run. Run far away. Also, you might have noticed that I sort of have a fetish for crack. Especially crack pairings. >w< Speaking of, does anyone have anything against KaixRuki? Only one person commented (i.e., read) Two-Faced. ;A;


***

Ruki’s voice is soft and sweet and concerned, and Aoi wishes it would just shut the fuck up.

It’s pretty fucking obvious that Aoi is not okay, will not be okay, will never be okay because goddamnit, he’s not here, and Aoi can’t fucking breath.

Uruha always had a way of doing that. Stealing his breath.

Only now he’s not around to give it back.

He wants Ruki to go away and take all of the other mourners with him, wants Ruki to just leave him alone with his silence and his Marlboros.

Because sometimes all Aoi needs is a goddamn cigarette.

Not all this smothering concern and desperate pleas for Aoi to just say something already.

Aoi can’t. Because there’s nothing to say.

Ruki’s sighing now, sighing and Aoi hates that, hates that Uruha is dead and Ruki is busy worrying about him.

Aoi doesn’t deserve it. Doesn’t want it, not when Uruha is gone.

Ruki brushes his hand over Aoi’s and Aoi cringes, because it was only Uruha that did that, slid his fingers over Aoi’s wrist for a moment before running them down his palm and winding their fingers together.

And now it’s Ruki, who’s hands are too small and too soft to make up for it.

“I’ll take care of him.” Aoi can’t make sense of that statement, can’t fit it into any context of the previous things Ruki was whispering, so Aoi decides to ignore it.

Until he realizes that Ruki was talking to someone else.

.:.:.:.

The passage of time is strange. You can wake up one morning and think everything is fine, there’s no hurt, and he’s going to walk into the bedroom holding a cup of shitty coffee, because he just can’t make good coffee for his life.

And then you remember that he’s dead and gone, and that you’re never going to taste his shitty coffee again.

.:.:.:.

Aoi learns to pretend. Learns to smile on cue, learns to fake happiness in his features, how to disguise lifelessness as sleepiness.

He learns that when people asked ‘Are you okay?’, they don’t really want to know the truth.

So he pretends. It’s a well kept masquerade, one that fools everyone he talks with.

Except Ruki.

So Aoi tends to stay away from him now, away from the eyes that see through his masks to the heart of the matter he doesn’t want shown. Away from that creature that makes Aoi want to get closer, to let him in, and letting people in is a bad idea, ’cause when they leave it just hurts even more.

So when the day comes and drinking himself into oblivion and fucking some easy slut with Uruha’s eyes doesn’t help, doesn’t numb the burning ache that’s sitting in the middle of his chest, choking him, he doesn’t know why he’s finding himself stumbling up the stairs leading to Ruki’s apartment.

He’s knocking continuously, and it’s only now that Aoi realizes that it’s 4:00 in the morning, and almost everyone else would be sleeping, at home and comfortable. Not standing outside someone’s apartment knocking with one hand and holding a bottle with the other.

He realizes that maybe Ruki’s curled up with another body, snuggled with a partner. A bolt of pain Aoi can’t describe shoots through him and mingles that ache, that burning, stretching feeling that gets worse whenever he breaths. He’s sure of it now, sure that Ruki’s happy and safe and warm with someone else and doesn’t want a drunken once-was bandmate hanging around.

The door opens and Ruki’s standing there looking bright and sleepy and so fucking gorgeous that Aoi chokes and stumbles back, self-loathing burning like bile in the back of his throat.

He hates Uruha for dying on him and leaving him alone, hates Ruki for seeing everything he wants so much to hide and making Aoi feel to damn much, hates himself for feeling anything for anyone after Uruha’s gone, because isn’t that betraying him?

Ruki’s head is tilting his head to the side and he’s opening his mouth to ask a question, and Aoi is walking backwards, trying to get away because it was stupid idea to come here when Ruki is probably waiting to crawl back into bed with a smiley, cheerful guy who doesn’t avoid him for months on end.

“Sorry, just- I’m leaving. It’s stupid and-” Aoi’s tongue feels thick and heavy and forcing words past them are hard, harder still when Ruki’s eyes are focused on him. He turns and tries to get away, tries but stops when Ruki’s voice cuts through his mumbling.

“Aoi, stop.” There’s a hand now, reaching for his shoulder and hitting his back lightly, bunching the fabric of his shirt and pulling him back, into the warmth of Ruki’s apartment. “Stay. It’s fine, really. I missed you.”

Aoi cringes when he turns around, hating the sadness he sees in Ruki’s eyes when he takes in the bottle, the cigarette smoke, and the lingering scent of cheap perfume and sex that is probably clinging to his hair and clothes. Hating the words that Ruki said. His breath his caught in his throat- funny, he thought Uruha was the only one who had that affect on him- and he doesn’t know what to do.

Aoi feels disconnected, lightheaded, and it fucking hurts. He feels himself tip sideways, his body banging against the wall before sliding to the floor, his arm bringing the bottle to his chest to cradle it. There’s a kind of dry ripping sound, and his chest is throbbing now, and he’s sobbing, dry sobs and rolling his face into the wall as is it could give him some fucking comfort.

Uruha’s gone and Ruki’s there and he can’t breath because wouldn’t Uruha hate it, hate him, if he saw that he cared? God, he probably would have hated him anyway because it’s his fault that he’s dead because he was the driver and he should have seen the other car and fuck it, it’s his fault-

Ruki’s crouching with him, cradling Aoi’s face in his hands and pressing his lips to Aoi’s cheeks and forehead and whispering into his ear. “It’s not your fault, Yuu, he couldn’t have hated you, he loved you, it’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself.”

Of course. Aoi must have started babbling while sobbing. “Goddamnit, Takanori, he wanted to be the driver, if he was in my seat he’d of made it out fine, it should have been me, if I had let him have his way then he’d be alive and-”

“And you’d be dead?! Is that what you want, Yuu? Do you wanna fucking die?!” Ruki’s pushing his shoulder now, looking angry. “Fuck you, Shiroyama. Alright? Is that why you’re doing drugs and drinking and screwing whichever person offers? Jesus, I promised I’d take care of you, but you’re making pretty damn hard for me to do so, since you’re so damn hell bent on dying! Do you think Kouyou would have wanted that?”

Ruki is looking at him now, holding his face so he can’t break his gaze. “Why can’t you want to live?” Ruki pressed his lips together. Aoi follows the action with his eyes, because the only other place to look is Ruki’s eyes, and Aoi doesn’t want to see what’s there. “Why is it that what I do is never enough? Why am I not enough to make you want to live?”

Aoi is stunned, shocked that anyone but Uruha could care about him that damn much, shocked that it’s Ruki, and the pain is just too fucking much because it’s growing and swallowing and he feels too cold and too lonely and too sad.

He grips Ruki’s hair and yanks him closer, crushing their lips together in a way that could have been painful, but Aoi was too distracted by the warmth that Ruki gave off to notice. Aoi didn’t know that he was so cold, not until there was heat contrasting it. He presses himself closer, curling around Ruki’s small frame and pushing him against the wall, opening his mouth slightly. Let me in, he wants to scream, because Ruki’s still closed off from him.

Aoi places the bottle on the ground, bringing his other hand to cup Ruki’s face. He pushes, nuzzles, and Ruki sighs in surrender, buckles under the weight, opening his mouth against Aoi’s and letting him take control, take over.

Ruki runs his hands through Aoi’s hair, gripping tighter and digging sharp nails into Aoi’s scalp when Aoi runs his hands along Ruki’s body. Aoi wonders if Ruki will object, push him away, tell him no since Aoi’s last drunken conquest was only a couple hours ago. Aoi wonders if Ruki is silently objecting to the smell of perfume on his skin, the taste of rubbed off lip gloss on his mouth, all quiet reminders that he wouldn’t be the only one in a night.

Aoi hopes he won’t, hopes that he can tell that Ruki means so much more to Aoi than a barfly.

It’s skin on skin now, them rocking together and always pressing closer, because Aoi can’t stand the space. Ruki throws his head back and it makes a light thump against the wall, but both Ruki and Aoi don’t bother, don’t care. Ruki’s taken up a litany of Aoi’s name, pulling back and holding Aoi as his vision goes white. He’s looking at Aoi and stroking his face like he can see exactly what’s broken, even though Aoi tries so hard to hide it.

Aoi’s fighting the urge to run, to gather up his things and get the hell out of there, and maybe Ruki sees that too, because he circles his arms around Aoi’s neck and pulls him closer.

“Stay.” It’s murmured into Aoi’s hair, followed by a kiss. “I’ll take care of you.”

***

A/N: I just noticed that Van Claude Hausselhoffe would be a fantastic pimp name. …Hoo boy, I feel dirty. I’m blushing. So much. Oh, God. Oh, well. Hurr hurr, wall smex. *blushes some more and tries to cover a small fountain of blood spurting from nostrils* Well, this was written museless, so to me it reads as stale and forced and overdramatized, but it doesn’t matter what I think! Tell me what you think! *keeps repeating it to herself in an attempt to believe it* Maybe if I don’t completely fail at writing without muse, I can bring myself to look at my Well, This Sucks: Life According to Ruki folder. But, oh, my god, the ending to this is so half-assed and done quickly. God. I feel like a writer for a soap. I also totally overused the word ‘realize’. Grr. Whatever. I’ll shut up now. Ta, darlings~

fanfic, oneshot, the gazette, aoixruki

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