vices
[06.07.2008]
Title: Vices
Pairing: Koyama x Shige
Rating: PG-13?
Word Count: 1500+
Notes: AU. Angst.
Summary: Receptionist Koyama has never wanted a visitor more. Too bad real life gets in the way.
Vices
The first time Koyama talks to Kato, he wants to strangle him.
The man’s eyes flitter briefly to catch Koyama’s own, and he breathes out a thin trail of smoke that wisps carelessly in front of the receptionist’s face. Koyama coughs loudly; smoke fills his mouth, bitter heat with nowhere to go. Once he is able to breathe again, his eyes narrow and the man smirks.
Koyama does not have time or the energy for this. He has slept only two hours the night before, hasn’t eaten in hours, hasn’t had fun (and by that he means get laid) for months. He is not in the mood for some upstart jerk that refuses to listen to simple directions.
Mostly, if Koyama thinks about it, Koyama is tired. Tired of doing doing doing and getting nothing in return (well, if nothing includes getting a reasonable steady paycheck and a semi-decent education). Koyama knows this is what real life is all about, but he can’t help feeling completely exhausted.
This man in front of him certainly isn’t helping matters.
He breathes through his mouth and repeats his request.
“Please refrain from smoking on the grounds, sir. Smoking is not allowed on the premise.”
Another smirk. Koyama kind of wants to kiss it. That’s how horny he is.
“The name’s Kato. I’ll be here often from now on, so why don’t you indulge a poor soul like me while I’m here,” a sharp glance to Koyama’s nametag, “Koyama-san?”
Koyama glares; he doesn’t get paid nearly enough for dealing with idiots like him. “This. Is. A. Hospital. We are here to prevent death, not cause it.” He cannot believe he has to repeat himself a third time. “If you really need to be here, why don’t you just comply with the rules of this establishment so I don’t have to call security?” Koyama’s usually not a threatening sort of person, but Kato’s smirk is a little too self-absorbed, a little too heated, to ignore.
Kato’s eyes narrow. A second turns into ten. Finally he sighs. “A man can’t even have his vices these days, can he?” Kato shuffles over to the trashcan, snuffs the cigarette with a clean flick of his wrist. He grimaces, eyeing the ashes in distaste. “What a waste,” he mutters.
Koyama lets out a deep breath. For a second, he actually was considering calling security. He rubs his temples. Just three more hours and he could finally get out of this place. Then he could go home, make a quick cup ramen, and hunker down to study for his biology exam. College was such a pain in the ass. Pain in the ass. Koyama glances at Kato. Bad idea.
Kato stops in front of the elevator, stretches his arms; even Koyama can see from the desk the taut muscles of Kato’s back contorting under thin cotton. His eye twitches, and Koyama curses his libido. He really needed to get laid. If only he had the time.
“Where’s room 723?”
Koyama looks up at the inquiry. Room 723? That’s the cancer ward. He knows because whenever visitors ask for rooms in that hall, they look like they want to throw up. And a nurse who worked on the floor once told him that they made the seventh floor in charge of cancer patients because it was a lucky number. As if other patients didn’t need luck. Or as if luck was all the cancer patients had at that point.
“Seventh floor. Once you get out of the elevator, turn left.”
But the room was already empty. Kato didn’t even bother hearing the answer to his own question. No glance back, no appreciation, nothing.
Sometimes, Koyama really hates people.
It’s been four hours since his last break, and Koyama can feel his stomach start to protest. He rubs his eyes, glancing at the clock. Visiting hours are almost up, and so is his shift. He bows to all the weary people that pad out of the room, most of them the few regulars who still actually cared about their spouse, lover, niece, son, mother.
After locking up the desk area, he feels his shoulders slump. It had been a long day; whoever claimed that being a receptionist was easy money really had no idea. The hours were long and the job boring, but money was money, so who was he to protest? He scrunches his nose, and in the middle of a giant yawn he hears a chortle from the vicinity of the elevators.
“You know, you look like you need a drag more than I do.” Unfortunately, Koyama remembers that irritating voice. “Or maybe some booze.”
“What I really need is a blowjob,” Koyama mutters under his breath.
He looks at Kato, really looks at him this time. He’s a good looking kid, years younger probably, with sharp eyebrows and short jet black hair, long eyelashes and clear-defined features. Koyama thinks he may’ve had a crush on someone who looked like Kato, back in high school when he was still confused and scared as hell of what people thought. It’s kind of unnerving.
Meanwhile, Kato laughs and Koyama is momentarily taken aback. Shit, did he really just say that?
Apparently, the answer is yes, because the resulting laugh is boisterous, clear, and the smile that graces Kato’s lips is wide, infectious, luring. Koyama looks down quickly.
“I thought you weren’t into those things.” Kato pauses, wetting his lips, “Vices, that is.”
At that, Koyama scoffs, “To each his own. As long as you don’t do it on my shift, I couldn’t care less.” He shoulders his bag and walks out of the hospital, Kato close behind him.
“I see.” Koyama looks back at him, as if to say, are you really still following me? In that moment, Kato steps a little too close to Koyama and pauses, inches from his face. Koyama jerks back in response but doesn’t say anything, isn’t sure what to say even if he wanted to. “You know, for someone with such a charming and witty demeanor,” Koyama rolls his eyes and Kato grins, “you’re actually quite angry, aren’t you?”
“I am not angry.” Koyama’s voice raises a little and so does Kato’s eyebrow. “I am annoyed. I have bills up to my neck to pay and tests to study for and I just don’t have the energy for your stupid comments,” and I want to fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling it for weeks rings dangerously in his mind, and he growls.
Right, that’s it. Annoyed.
The train station is another two minutes away on foot, but Koyama is beginning to wonder if he has enough cash to take a cab. He spins around, and Kato nearly collides into him, hands gripping Koyama’s shoulders almost painfully.
What feels like an eternity passes before Kato’s grip loosens, fingers trailing the edge of his collar loosely before he lets go. Koyama feels his face start to flush and he curses. It’s been far too long since he’s gotten any, and he’s certainly not going to start with this kid and his elegant fingers and searing touch.
Kato steps back, those same fingers uneasily brushing back and forth against his jacket. He lets out a shaky smile. “No. You’re right. You aren’t angry. I am.” And he lets the words hang in the air, hovering between them, heavy as lead.
Though he fights it, Koyama’s next words come out of nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. He is this close to snapping and it hurts.
“Kato,” he barks gruffly, and Kato looks up wearily, eyes swimming with something heavier than tears, though at that moment Koyama could hardly care less. “How old are you?” He is not going have sex with a minor. He isn’t he ISN’T.
“20 this past month.” Koyama nods, and almost breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god. Legal. What a young, beautiful, angry boy.
For a moment, Koyama considers asking Kato out to eat, to drink, to fuck, to participate in all those lovely vices and more. Kato just looks at him, eyes cocked, sultry with a hint of want, of something that goes straight to Koyama’s brain and fuzzes everything up.
Then Koyama remembers the lonely cup of ramen waiting for him at home, the two textbooks that must be read for tomorrow’s tests, and he sighs.
He pulls out some bills, placing them gingerly in Kato’s hand and closes the fist himself. Kato’s eyes mirror his own confusion at the action, but then his eyes glaze over and harden. Koyama wonders why the look makes him even more aroused. “Buy yourself some drinks. See that bar across the street? The barman’s a good guy, a great listener. Let your anger out there.”
And this time it is Koyama’s turn to walk away.
Maybe Koyama lied. Maybe he was more than annoyed, more than angry. But he can’t help him, he tells himself he has to do this. There are too many real life things to do and not enough time. He has work to do, and as much as he’d like to, it’s impossible to study with hands everywhere but on his textbook and with a cock in his ass. He’s already tried.
AN: I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this. If you get this far, thanks again!
Title: Vices
Pairing: Koyama x Shige
Rating: PG-13?
Word Count: 1500+
Notes: AU. Angst.
Summary: Receptionist Koyama has never wanted a visitor more. Too bad real life gets in the way.
Vices
The first time Koyama talks to Kato, he wants to strangle him.
The man’s eyes flitter briefly to catch Koyama’s own, and he breathes out a thin trail of smoke that wisps carelessly in front of the receptionist’s face. Koyama coughs loudly; smoke fills his mouth, bitter heat with nowhere to go. Once he is able to breathe again, his eyes narrow and the man smirks.
Koyama does not have time or the energy for this. He has slept only two hours the night before, hasn’t eaten in hours, hasn’t had fun (and by that he means get laid) for months. He is not in the mood for some upstart jerk that refuses to listen to simple directions.
Mostly, if Koyama thinks about it, Koyama is tired. Tired of doing doing doing and getting nothing in return (well, if nothing includes getting a reasonable steady paycheck and a semi-decent education). Koyama knows this is what real life is all about, but he can’t help feeling completely exhausted.
This man in front of him certainly isn’t helping matters.
He breathes through his mouth and repeats his request.
“Please refrain from smoking on the grounds, sir. Smoking is not allowed on the premise.”
Another smirk. Koyama kind of wants to kiss it. That’s how horny he is.
“The name’s Kato. I’ll be here often from now on, so why don’t you indulge a poor soul like me while I’m here,” a sharp glance to Koyama’s nametag, “Koyama-san?”
Koyama glares; he doesn’t get paid nearly enough for dealing with idiots like him. “This. Is. A. Hospital. We are here to prevent death, not cause it.” He cannot believe he has to repeat himself a third time. “If you really need to be here, why don’t you just comply with the rules of this establishment so I don’t have to call security?” Koyama’s usually not a threatening sort of person, but Kato’s smirk is a little too self-absorbed, a little too heated, to ignore.
Kato’s eyes narrow. A second turns into ten. Finally he sighs. “A man can’t even have his vices these days, can he?” Kato shuffles over to the trashcan, snuffs the cigarette with a clean flick of his wrist. He grimaces, eyeing the ashes in distaste. “What a waste,” he mutters.
Koyama lets out a deep breath. For a second, he actually was considering calling security. He rubs his temples. Just three more hours and he could finally get out of this place. Then he could go home, make a quick cup ramen, and hunker down to study for his biology exam. College was such a pain in the ass. Pain in the ass. Koyama glances at Kato. Bad idea.
Kato stops in front of the elevator, stretches his arms; even Koyama can see from the desk the taut muscles of Kato’s back contorting under thin cotton. His eye twitches, and Koyama curses his libido. He really needed to get laid. If only he had the time.
“Where’s room 723?”
Koyama looks up at the inquiry. Room 723? That’s the cancer ward. He knows because whenever visitors ask for rooms in that hall, they look like they want to throw up. And a nurse who worked on the floor once told him that they made the seventh floor in charge of cancer patients because it was a lucky number. As if other patients didn’t need luck. Or as if luck was all the cancer patients had at that point.
“Seventh floor. Once you get out of the elevator, turn left.”
But the room was already empty. Kato didn’t even bother hearing the answer to his own question. No glance back, no appreciation, nothing.
Sometimes, Koyama really hates people.
It’s been four hours since his last break, and Koyama can feel his stomach start to protest. He rubs his eyes, glancing at the clock. Visiting hours are almost up, and so is his shift. He bows to all the weary people that pad out of the room, most of them the few regulars who still actually cared about their spouse, lover, niece, son, mother.
After locking up the desk area, he feels his shoulders slump. It had been a long day; whoever claimed that being a receptionist was easy money really had no idea. The hours were long and the job boring, but money was money, so who was he to protest? He scrunches his nose, and in the middle of a giant yawn he hears a chortle from the vicinity of the elevators.
“You know, you look like you need a drag more than I do.” Unfortunately, Koyama remembers that irritating voice. “Or maybe some booze.”
“What I really need is a blowjob,” Koyama mutters under his breath.
He looks at Kato, really looks at him this time. He’s a good looking kid, years younger probably, with sharp eyebrows and short jet black hair, long eyelashes and clear-defined features. Koyama thinks he may’ve had a crush on someone who looked like Kato, back in high school when he was still confused and scared as hell of what people thought. It’s kind of unnerving.
Meanwhile, Kato laughs and Koyama is momentarily taken aback. Shit, did he really just say that?
Apparently, the answer is yes, because the resulting laugh is boisterous, clear, and the smile that graces Kato’s lips is wide, infectious, luring. Koyama looks down quickly.
“I thought you weren’t into those things.” Kato pauses, wetting his lips, “Vices, that is.”
At that, Koyama scoffs, “To each his own. As long as you don’t do it on my shift, I couldn’t care less.” He shoulders his bag and walks out of the hospital, Kato close behind him.
“I see.” Koyama looks back at him, as if to say, are you really still following me? In that moment, Kato steps a little too close to Koyama and pauses, inches from his face. Koyama jerks back in response but doesn’t say anything, isn’t sure what to say even if he wanted to. “You know, for someone with such a charming and witty demeanor,” Koyama rolls his eyes and Kato grins, “you’re actually quite angry, aren’t you?”
“I am not angry.” Koyama’s voice raises a little and so does Kato’s eyebrow. “I am annoyed. I have bills up to my neck to pay and tests to study for and I just don’t have the energy for your stupid comments,” and I want to fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling it for weeks rings dangerously in his mind, and he growls.
Right, that’s it. Annoyed.
The train station is another two minutes away on foot, but Koyama is beginning to wonder if he has enough cash to take a cab. He spins around, and Kato nearly collides into him, hands gripping Koyama’s shoulders almost painfully.
What feels like an eternity passes before Kato’s grip loosens, fingers trailing the edge of his collar loosely before he lets go. Koyama feels his face start to flush and he curses. It’s been far too long since he’s gotten any, and he’s certainly not going to start with this kid and his elegant fingers and searing touch.
Kato steps back, those same fingers uneasily brushing back and forth against his jacket. He lets out a shaky smile. “No. You’re right. You aren’t angry. I am.” And he lets the words hang in the air, hovering between them, heavy as lead.
Though he fights it, Koyama’s next words come out of nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. He is this close to snapping and it hurts.
“Kato,” he barks gruffly, and Kato looks up wearily, eyes swimming with something heavier than tears, though at that moment Koyama could hardly care less. “How old are you?” He is not going have sex with a minor. He isn’t he ISN’T.
“20 this past month.” Koyama nods, and almost breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god. Legal. What a young, beautiful, angry boy.
For a moment, Koyama considers asking Kato out to eat, to drink, to fuck, to participate in all those lovely vices and more. Kato just looks at him, eyes cocked, sultry with a hint of want, of something that goes straight to Koyama’s brain and fuzzes everything up.
Then Koyama remembers the lonely cup of ramen waiting for him at home, the two textbooks that must be read for tomorrow’s tests, and he sighs.
He pulls out some bills, placing them gingerly in Kato’s hand and closes the fist himself. Kato’s eyes mirror his own confusion at the action, but then his eyes glaze over and harden. Koyama wonders why the look makes him even more aroused. “Buy yourself some drinks. See that bar across the street? The barman’s a good guy, a great listener. Let your anger out there.”
And this time it is Koyama’s turn to walk away.
Maybe Koyama lied. Maybe he was more than annoyed, more than angry. But he can’t help him, he tells himself he has to do this. There are too many real life things to do and not enough time. He has work to do, and as much as he’d like to, it’s impossible to study with hands everywhere but on his textbook and with a cock in his ass. He’s already tried.
AN: I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this. If you get this far, thanks again!