FIC: What Genma Wanted Ch4 Pt3 (Pockyverse)
Title: What Genma Wanted Ch4 Pt3
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: GenRai + Iruka; Aoba, one OC
Genre: From Crack is born Romance, Angst and some other stuff
Rating: Mostly R, veering into NC17 on occasion
Warnings: Language, innuendo, some sex
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto does, along with whatever other people/entities are along for the ride.
A/N: This is a long chapter. Very long.
Still no beta. I'm tormenting myself enough as it is.
Summary: Part 3 - Our boys cool down in their own special ways: Genma threatens Aoba, Raido stares at a ceiling, and Iruka emos.
Genma didn't always go drinking after he had stormed out, and he didn't always go looking for Aoba, either. But if he happened to meet up with Aoba after storming out, it was a safe bet to assume there was a bar in his near future. Rarely did he actually go LOOKING for Aoba with the intention of drinking. Tonight was going to be one of those nights, so he started at Aoba's apartment and met the man only a block away.
Aoba wore his customary sunglasses and Genma didn't think anything of it. But when he hailed Aoba and the man cringed before answering, he started to get suspicious. Finally, standing next to his friend, he noticed a dark mark on the man's cheek, next to his nose. "We're going out," he announced in a loud voice, daring Aoba to claim otherwise.
"Uh, okay. Any particular place in mind?"
"Your choice. You're buying," Genma answered flippantly.
"What? Why am I buying?"
Genma spun on his heels and shoved Aoba in the chest. "Don't fuck with me, Yamashiro! I'm in a pissed off mood, and the more I think about it, the more I think YOU had something to do with it. So you're going to buy me drinks, and then you're going to tell me what happened today. And if I'm calm enough AND drunk enough I might not beat you into the sidewalk."
Aoba sighed and shrugged. "If you're going to beat my head in, could you give me a little bit of a heads up?"
"Sure," Genma grinned back, slinging his arm around Aoba's shoulders. "I might even give you a head start."
They walked back to the bar Aoba liked, and he sat with Genma at a table and talked about everything EXCEPT the reason Genma was there. The waitress Aoba liked was there, and her name wasn't Yuki, it was Kiyumi, but she always thought his drunken nickname was cute so she sat in his lap and flirted with Genma from across the table. And Genma was starting to feel calm again, like maybe he could go home and deal with Raido, but every time he thought about Iruka his heart started racing again so Aoba had to push another drink at him. Kiyumi/Yuki finally noticed and asked, "What's wrong with him tonight?"
"No idea. Just when I think he's going to chill, he spazzes out again," Aoba replied, shaking his head.
"Hey, did that guy find you? I sent him over to your place, so I just assumed he did since you showed up."
Genma pricked up his ears at that, so he didn't miss Aoba's sudden inward hunch. "What guy?"
"Nobody. Nothing. Yeah, he found me, thanks!" Aoba nervously jabbered, trying to send Kiyumi away.
She wasn't taking the hint. "Young. Cute, but really young. Shinobi, at least I guess he was, he was wearing the full uniform and all."
"Did he say why he was looking for Aoba?" Genma asked in a low voice. Aoba shuddered, and even Kiyumi gave him a sharp look, slowly removing herself from Aoba's lap and potential danger.
"He said he didn't want to piss him off, and he mentioned a prank-gone-wrong, so I assumed he was going to apologize. That's right, isn't it?" She directed the last question at Aoba and he grimaced, then nodded.
"Kiyumi, would you excuse us for a bit?" Genma asked sweetly, getting up and sitting next to Aoba on the bench. "I would like to know why my BOYFRIEND was spending his free afternoon with Aoba instead of with me." She nodded and left quickly with an apologetic shrug to Aoba.
"Aoba."
"Yes?"
"You know that heads up you wanted?"
Aoba shuddered again, frantically mouthing 'More drinks' to Kiyumi across the room. "Um, yeah?"
"Consider this your first warning. Because I really want to punch you in the face right now. Instead, I'm going to give you a chance to tell me EXACTLY what happened."
"Before you punch me in the face, can I show you something first?" Aoba asked, panicked. In this mood, once Genma started hitting, he would be unlikely to stop. He pulled his sunglasses off and Genma stared at the mass of swollen purple that was Aoba's eye.
Genma stared at it. Then stared some more. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Kiyumi's laughter beat him to it.
"He HIT you?" she shrieked, turning heads across the entire room as she slid another round in front of the two men. "Wow, he seemed so sincere. Not much of an apology, but I told him you probably didn't deserve one. Guess he took me at my word." She grinned and laughed her way back to the bar.
Genma closed his mouth and kept staring. "Aoba."
Aoba made a noise, a cross between a squeak and a whimper, when he felt Genma's hand close over his arm painfully. He shoved the glasses back on and looked at the table.
"Explain. Leave nothing out."
So Aoba explained, trying to leave things out, but Genma had a sixth sense, or Aoba had a tell, and either way Genma had the entire story in the end. When he was done, Genma had his arm over Aoba's shoulders, and his hand was still gripping Aoba's arm painfully, and he kept staring at Aoba with that same calm look.
"Show me your eye again, because I still want to punch you in the face," he said finally, and Aoba pulled the glasses off again and left them on the table.
Genma exhaled noisily and let Aoba go. "I am a worm," he announced, then let his head fall, banging the table noisily.
"Dude, stop! This is why the metal part goes in front!" Aoba exclaimed, trying to pull Genma up.
"No. I am slime underneath a worm." His head fell forward again and the table jumped.
"I think worms make their own slime," Aoba offered. "Some kind of special organ or enzyme or something."
Genma nodded. "Fine, I am the slime gland of a worm, excreting myself." The table jumped again, spilling the drinks.
"Genma, stop it! So you guys got in a fight. Not a big deal."
Shaking his head, still against the table, Genma groaned. "No, not this time. Aoba, I said something. Something terrible. And you know, he just looked at me, and it wasn't like I had kicked a puppy, it was worse. Like I had KILLED a puppy. With a toothpick. In front of its little puppy siblngs AND its mother."
Aoba pulled Genma up from the table when he realized Genma wasn't talking about Raido. "Genma, what did you say?" he gasped, shaking his friend by both shoulders. Iruka said he didn't even know Genma and Raido fought, so walking in on one would be bad enough. But he wouldn't know NOT to get involved. And if he did get involved... Aoba groaned, because now HE was involved as well. "I'm taking you home," he hissed before getting up to pay and arrange a time to meet Kiyumi later. Assuming he lived that long.
Forcing Genma to his feet, Aoba pulled and pushed his friend through the streets, ignoring the strange looks they attracted from shinobi and civilian alike. Genma didn't want to go. "You don't understand, he HATES me now!" he kept crying out, forcing Aoba to grit his teeth.
"He doesn't HATE you, Genma. He HATES me. He likes you. Hell, he's sleeping with you, right?"
"He WAS sleeping with us. And then I had to go ooze my worm slime all over everything!" Genma was just slightly drunk, but it didn't make him any less dramatic.
"That's, uh, really gross and disturbing on so many levels. Could you please stop yelling about worm slime in a public street?"
"I can't go home! HE might be there!"
One day, he thought, you're going to remind me why we're friends. "That's kind of the point, Genma," he explained patiently. "You have to make up with Raido. And Iruka. You can't make up with them if they're not there."
"But he'll LOOK at me! His eyes, Aoba, his eyes are DEAD!"
Genma is my friend, Aoba whispered to himself. It is bad karma to leave friends alone, drunk in public. He almost sobbed with relief when he saw Genma's apartment building. "We're almost there," he said cheerfully, trying to manhandle Genma up the stairs.
Of course, Genma didn't want to go, shutting his eyes tight and twining himself around the railing.
"Come on, Genma. You can sleep on my couch," Aoba lied shamelessly. Genma wasn't THAT drunk, but if Aoba could keep him off-balance AND talking, they might make it up the stairs.
Genma cracked open an eye. "This isn't your place. This looks like my place."
Aoba looked around and gasped. "You know, it DOES look like your place. I never noticed that before." He managed to get Genma half-way up the stairs.
"Aoba, are you sure this is your place? I thought you lived on the first floor."
"I moved."
"When?" Genma asked, still suspicious.
"Yesterday," Aoba lied again. "We're almost there."
"Why is my laundry basket in front of your place?"
Aoba opened the door and shoved Genma inside, following him in and shutting the door tightly. "Sorry, did I say my place? I meant your place. We're back!"
---
For the second time in a day, Iruka found himself wandering around the streets, fighting back tears. He couldn't even think about what happened. It would just get so tied up into what he was feeling his stomach would knot up and he would have to bite his cheek to keep from retching. So he walked, and kept walking, until he ended up by the river. It was nearly dark and the sun setting across the river sent shimmers across the water, but Iruka didn't even see it. He lay back against the grassy bank and stared up sightlessly. The sun set, his breathing settled, and his eyes stopped watering. Now he could think.
Is it over? he thought. It's over when one of us says it's over, that was the promise. So the question was did he WANT it to be over? And honestly, no, he didn't. He felt a savage anger at both of the men for conspiring to lie to him, but he had to admit he was keeping his own secrets as well. They were adamant they didn't love each other, but Iruka was equally convinced they did. So they were keeping secrets from each other and themselves. In that context, what they kept from Iruka seemed... benign, or at least not as bad by comparison. And Genma had been absolutely right. If he had seen them fight like that even a few months earlier, he would have given up right there. He really didn't understand them as well as he thought he did.
His first instinct was to confront them and make them talk it out. Yamashiro claimed he had 'girly' reactions. Maybe this was what he meant, maybe men, older men anyways, DIDN'T talk things out. So he couldn't MAKE them talk to each other and hash out their feelings that way. Iruka rolled over and buried his face in the warm grass. Maybe I am a girl, he thought finally. So what? Girls were strong, too. They could cry and keep going while a boy was still struggling to hold back his tears. But they could also be vicious, hurtful and petty, even to their friends. Iruka didn't think he was like that, but he had seen firsthand that Genma was, so maybe everybody had a little bit of both in them. Just be yourself, he thought, whatever that is. And let others do the same. It didn't mean he couldn't try and nudge his friends to be better, the same way he did with his students, and the same way he should be doing with himself. It DID mean he needed to be honest with himself, and holding something said in anger against his friend was ultimately unfair to them both.
---
Pushing up from the ground, Iruka felt a little unsteady. As much as he wanted to think it, this hadn't been the worst day ever. Nobody died, nobody was in the hospital, and nothing was broken that couldn't be fixed. He ran back to his apartment and grabbed some towels before heading back to Genma's apartment. He needed a shower, and if he wanted a clean towel, he would have to bring his own. He needed to ice his jaw, and possibly his ribs. Even his wrist ached, had been all day, but Iruka hadn't bothered to check it.
He dropped his stuff by the front door and went to check on Raido. As Raido expected, Genma wasn't back. The bedroom door was still open, but it was dark. He could see Raido on the bed, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm back," he said stupidly, because he knew Raido knew that already.
"Iruka, I'm not in the mood to talk right now."
"I know," Iruka replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Some other time."
"You're going to make him apologize? He's not going to, you know. He never does."
Iruka shrugged. "I don't know yet. But we are going to talk it out."
Raido lifted his head and stared at Iruka. He chuckled and dropped his head back onto the bed. "He's not going to like that."
"Tough."
Iruka stood up to leave, but Raido caught his hand. "Glad you came back."
"I said I would. It's only fair. Genma runs off while you stay home alone."
Raido dropped Iruka's hand and returned to watching the ceiling.
"Can I ask you one thing?"
"One thing," Raido sighed.
"Are they always like this? The fights, I mean."
Raido shook his head. "No. They're always intense, but they're usually over quickly. Like a sudden thunderstorm, lots of boom boom boom, and then it's gone."
"That's what I thought."
Iruka opened a drawer in the dresser and rummaged for something to wear. He found a pair of drawstring shorts. They were Raido's and way too big, but they would do. He stood up and started to leave the room.
"It's not your fault," Raido said suddenly.
"No, not completely," Iruka answered gravely. "But some of it was. Open or closed?"
"Closed, please. I think I'm going to try and sleep for a bit."
Iruka caught the edge in Raido's voice and read between the lines. I'm going to get some sleep now just in case Genma comes home because it's not over yet. Iruka closed the door.
After his shower, Iruka checked himself in the mirror. He had been surprised to realize he'd been walking around with his hitai-ate shoved in his pocket all day. There was blood on his vest, but he didn't remember how it got there. Maybe Aoba's? The handprint had faded a bit, a few of the marks turning to bruises so he looked like he had dirt on his face. The bruise on his jaw, however, was ugly. Even with ice, it wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Training accident, he decided. That was the most obvious lie. The bruise on his ribs surprised him. He barely remembered getting kicked.
Dressed only in the shorts, Iruka sat down on the couch with his bag. He pulled out the papers he meant to grade tomorrow. It was something to do while he waited, and if he finished he might be able to catch a nap before his shift in the mission room started. It was awkward grading left-handed while he held a cold towel to his jaw, but he managed to get through most of them before the numbness of his skin told him that was enough ice. Refreshing the towel, he sat back down and finished the stack while he held the icy towel to his ribs.
Lying down on the sofa, Iruka shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn't hit a bruise. He wrapped the towel around his wrist, still wondering where the bite mark came from. He didn't remember anyone biting HIM last night. No, this morning. Today. Sighing, he shut his eyes, tossing the bruised hand over his head, the other trailing off the edge of the sofa. He could sleep here, he figured, at least until Genma came home. The memory of a dream about an alley crossed his mind just before he fell asleep, but he let it go.
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Read on to Chapter5 Pt1
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