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bonnefoisWanted it to be longer, should’ve been longer but anyways. It’s set a bit later, a few years later maybe?
Title: shame on me if I love you twice
Day/Theme: August 29/Colored is the rose of spring, white the rose of December.
Series: HanaKimi
Character/Pairing: Akiha/Umeda, past Ryouchi/Umeda
Rating: at least in the PG-13 region
A/N: not Ryouichi/Umeda fan friendly. Uh.
i.
When Umeda receives the call (that call, he always swears that the ring sounds different, more sudden, like glass breaking.) He grappled for the phone, half of him desperate to answer, the other dreading what he knew would come.
The conversation passes quickly, come, laster, at that bar Ryouchi never bothers long to talk, even when he comes up out of nowhere commanding Umeda’s presence. Little has changed, but nothing has with them. He can still feel how the rain chilled him to the bone, because he can’t quite forget, even if told to and dropped. Because Umeda Hokuto does not simply come when he is called.
ii.
The air is thick enough Umeda could choke, full of stale cigarette smoke and stale melancholy, turning in the smoky air.
Little has changed between them.
Ryouchi was the same, older, but with the same feline eyes. The same high upturned nose, the same downwards turned mouth that could be called attractive but was too prone to smirking.
This is all the same, the same wineglasses, the same smell of stale cigarette smoke. The same place, the same people, the same hopelessness.
Only one thing has changed, Umeda thinks. Himself.
He isn’t a high-school boy anymore, Ryouichi’s smiles don’t make his heart clench as much now. Somehow it feels as if his skin has thickened even more, just enough that Ryouichi seems almost plain, hardly worthy of a lingering attraction.
Umeda cleans his glasses and squints. The vision remains the same. Ryouichi is eyeing him, knowing almost, figuring out something that he hasn’t even quite figured out yet.
Umeda grips his glass, almost thinking of drinking it, but still, not now. Ryouichi still says nothing,
Taking a sip, he starts the stalled (never started) conversation.
“You look well”
“As do you.”
Ryouichi goes on, only slightly, to talk of small things. Nothing important. Umeda waits for the other shoe to drop, yet still Ryouichi is smiling at him knowingly.
Finally he tires of this game. He finishes his drink in one gulp (admirable, even for him. Akiha would be noisy as ever, praising how “Senpai can hold his liquor!” though Umeda has yet to outdrink him)
“Don’t call me again.” he says, moving backwards and throwing a few bills on the bar for the drink. Light reflects off the glass, Ryouichi’s expression is enigmatic.
“What, will your new boyfriend beat me up?” Ryouchi replies, his eyes shut to cat-like slits, amused.
“Maybe. I can’t keep track of him all the time.”
The path to the door is simple, just a few steps and a doors swing, shut, closing the noise into a faint hum.
And he phones home – Akiha would be calling every PI in the area and any police station which hadn’t blocked his number yet to file a missing person report. Then he’d have his whole damn family involved.
Before he even says anything, the idiot is already fawning and cooing over him.
“Senpai! I was so worried! You need to get all your rest and have you even eaten today? And–”
“I was finishing something out.” Umeda says, too tired to even grouse at him.
“Shall I make you something to eat, it’s special~”
Umeda listens into the phone, saying nothing and refusing to believe what Ryouichi already knew.
“Senpai? Senpai!”
“Go ahead. Fast Food tastes like shit anyways. Your cooking couldn’t be worse”
“Ah~ Senpai likes my cooking ~”
With that, he shut off the phone. No need to have every damn relative this side of Okinawa calling him and making sure he wasn’t lost and didn’t need someone to walk him home. The same damn thing they’d been doing even through college.
And for once, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want to kick Akiha out to the curb and throw his things out the window. if only because the idiot is good for something, at least.
If only that.
Title: shame on me if I love you twice
Day/Theme: August 29/Colored is the rose of spring, white the rose of December.
Series: HanaKimi
Character/Pairing: Akiha/Umeda, past Ryouchi/Umeda
Rating: at least in the PG-13 region
A/N: not Ryouichi/Umeda fan friendly. Uh.
i.
When Umeda receives the call (that call, he always swears that the ring sounds different, more sudden, like glass breaking.) He grappled for the phone, half of him desperate to answer, the other dreading what he knew would come.
The conversation passes quickly, come, laster, at that bar Ryouchi never bothers long to talk, even when he comes up out of nowhere commanding Umeda’s presence. Little has changed, but nothing has with them. He can still feel how the rain chilled him to the bone, because he can’t quite forget, even if told to and dropped. Because Umeda Hokuto does not simply come when he is called.
ii.
The air is thick enough Umeda could choke, full of stale cigarette smoke and stale melancholy, turning in the smoky air.
Little has changed between them.
Ryouchi was the same, older, but with the same feline eyes. The same high upturned nose, the same downwards turned mouth that could be called attractive but was too prone to smirking.
This is all the same, the same wineglasses, the same smell of stale cigarette smoke. The same place, the same people, the same hopelessness.
Only one thing has changed, Umeda thinks. Himself.
He isn’t a high-school boy anymore, Ryouichi’s smiles don’t make his heart clench as much now. Somehow it feels as if his skin has thickened even more, just enough that Ryouichi seems almost plain, hardly worthy of a lingering attraction.
Umeda cleans his glasses and squints. The vision remains the same. Ryouichi is eyeing him, knowing almost, figuring out something that he hasn’t even quite figured out yet.
Umeda grips his glass, almost thinking of drinking it, but still, not now. Ryouichi still says nothing,
Taking a sip, he starts the stalled (never started) conversation.
“You look well”
“As do you.”
Ryouichi goes on, only slightly, to talk of small things. Nothing important. Umeda waits for the other shoe to drop, yet still Ryouichi is smiling at him knowingly.
Finally he tires of this game. He finishes his drink in one gulp (admirable, even for him. Akiha would be noisy as ever, praising how “Senpai can hold his liquor!” though Umeda has yet to outdrink him)
“Don’t call me again.” he says, moving backwards and throwing a few bills on the bar for the drink. Light reflects off the glass, Ryouichi’s expression is enigmatic.
“What, will your new boyfriend beat me up?” Ryouchi replies, his eyes shut to cat-like slits, amused.
“Maybe. I can’t keep track of him all the time.”
The path to the door is simple, just a few steps and a doors swing, shut, closing the noise into a faint hum.
And he phones home – Akiha would be calling every PI in the area and any police station which hadn’t blocked his number yet to file a missing person report. Then he’d have his whole damn family involved.
Before he even says anything, the idiot is already fawning and cooing over him.
“Senpai! I was so worried! You need to get all your rest and have you even eaten today? And–”
“I was finishing something out.” Umeda says, too tired to even grouse at him.
“Shall I make you something to eat, it’s special~”
Umeda listens into the phone, saying nothing and refusing to believe what Ryouichi already knew.
“Senpai? Senpai!”
“Go ahead. Fast Food tastes like shit anyways. Your cooking couldn’t be worse”
“Ah~ Senpai likes my cooking ~”
With that, he shut off the phone. No need to have every damn relative this side of Okinawa calling him and making sure he wasn’t lost and didn’t need someone to walk him home. The same damn thing they’d been doing even through college.
And for once, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want to kick Akiha out to the curb and throw his things out the window. if only because the idiot is good for something, at least.
If only that.
