A/N: Hi, everybody! I felt really inspired, so I wrote this oneshot 'cuz I wanted to. I'm back in business with Empty, and that'll be up and running real soon, I promise. Enjoy!
Bouquet
By: Reminiscent
Ritsuka frowned at his cell phone. Soubi was such a liar. He promised he would call before Ritsuka went to sleep, but it was twenty minutes after his bedtime and he was getting annoyed. Flopping onto his back, the thirteen-year-old stared at his ceiling. Today had been his birthday, and he hadn't seen Soubi at all. Yuiko had pounced, exclaiming 'Happy birthday!' as she shoved a huge container stuffed with fresh cookies into his hands, and Yayoi had huffed and given him a new set of mittens. Ritsuka's birthday was a cold one, as usual, set in the midst of the fridged season of winter, so he accepted the thickly insulated mittens gratefully. Spending the majority of the day with his two friends, Ritsuka nearly forgot about his blonde Fighter, and when he realized that said blonde had made no appearance that day, he became worried. He called Soubi, and Soubi had replied that he was steeped in college work and would for sure call Ritsuka before the day was done. Ritsuka hated liars, but couldn't bring himself to hate Soubi. The word 'twisted' popped into his head when he tried to some up that last thought.
But it was storming outside, the world a surreal snow globe, so he couldn't find a reason to blame Soubi, either. Just so happened.
He played games on his phone (what little demos he had), reread the old texts Soubi had sent him (but he'd failed to remember to erase), and sat through an entire game of Solitaire on his computer. And his disliking for Solitaire was very great.
A tapping on the sliding glass door caught his attention, and he turned sharply on the swivel chair to see what had made the noise. Blonde hair swirled in the wind, attached to the head of an attractive young man wrapped loosely in a large, black coat. Ritsuka flew from the chair to the door, opening it only long enough to grab his visitor's arm and drag him inside.
"What do you think you're doing? You'll catch your death out there," the young teen admonished, pulling the thick comforter off his bed to wrap it around the Fighter's cold body. "I'll go make you some hot chocolate or tea."
"Stay." Ritsuka glared.
"I'm trying to help you."
"I'm fine. Come here." Deciding that he could put off the warm drink for a minute or two, Ritsuka knelt.
"Why did you come?" he asked.
"I told you I would."
"Soubi, you could have just called me." Soubi remained silent. Sighing, Ritsuka stood and proceeded to head to the kitchen. Soubi was still there when he returned, but didn't touch the hot chocolate (which Ritsuka had chosen because he figured Soubi would prefer something sweet).
"Happy birthday," Soubi finally said, smiling warmly. He fished around in his cumbersome coat, finally withdrawing something wrapped in colorful, metallic, crinkling plastic. "It's your birthday present, and it might have gotten a little squashed on the way here…you know, when I was climbing up to your balcony…" It was a bouquet of flowers. Ritsuka took it, his cheeks flushing.
"I'm not a girl, Soubi," he mumbled, but pleased nonetheless. The flowers were very pretty, decorated around the edges with ferns. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "What kind are they?"
"The white ones, that are hanging in clumps there…yeah, those are acacias. One of my favorites. I like acacia honey," was the added afterthought, "And the others, with the layers, like roses, those are camellias." A pause, in which Ritsuka realized he was supposed to say something seconds too late. "Sorry they're in girly colors."
"No, I don't mind," Ritsuka blurted out.
"They mean stuff, you know. The flowers. They all mean something important. That's why I picked them."
"What is it?" Soubi scooted closer to the boy, slipping an arm around his waist carefully, lest he spooked the kitten-like teen.
"The ferns mean 'magic', or 'fascination'. But it also means 'shelter' and 'confidence'. You, Ritsuka, fascinate me with your spell more than I'd like to admit, and you are my shelter, and my confidence in everything." He earned another blush, smiled, and continued. "The white camellia means 'you're adorable', which you most certainly are…"
"Soubi!"
"…the red camellia translates to the recipient being the flame in the giver's heart, the pink one is known to tell others that they are longed for, and…" Here, Soubi hesitated. During his explanation, he had leaned closer and closer to Ritsuka, his face now level with the younger male's. Ritsuka looked over and met Soubi's gaze, eyes locking as unsaid words were spoken in high, yet silent, volumes. If Ritsuka looked away, he'd be damned if he ever tried this again. "And the acacia is a sign for concealed love." He shifted his weight forward and pressed his lips to Ritsuka's. A small sound, like a whine, escaped from Ritsuka's throat. Soubi buried his hand into the dark hair, silky and sweet smelling. He didn't deepen the kiss, but kept it chaste. Everything had mounted to this moment. He had put his heart onto Ritsuka's lap, with the flowers, and the unspoken 'I love you' meant so much more than when he had ever said before. This time, it was not only 'I love you', but had an additional, 'Please love me back…please accept me' attached behind. Parting slowly from the thirteen-year-old-for-a-day, he pressed his forehead to Ritsuka's, eyes intently glued on Ritsuka's closed pair.
"Ritsuka?" he whispered, his nerves stinging in his fingertips as he touched the boy's face. Ritsuka opened his eyes, which were unusually glassy, and searched his Fighter's face before hiding in the crook of Soubi's neck.
"Thanks for the flowers," he muttered, clinging to Soubi's corded body and wrapping his arms around his neck. Soubi understood, and held Ritsuka close, cautious of the flowers, and turned into Ritsuka just so that he could press a kiss into the mass of glossy, night-shaded hair. He felt a smile stretch across his skin, exposed by the boat-necked shirt he was wearing beneath his coat, and he settled contentedly, with an armful of Ritsuka, on the floor against the bed. Love was, in fact, real now. Before, Soubi hadn't been sure if he believed in it, like God, until he had seen it…felt it.
As for Ritsuka, it felt good, to know that he could say 'his Fighter'.
Just for one bouquet of flowers, that may wilt, but would never, ever be forgotten…memories made about it or no.
A/N: Ah, young love! I feel warm and fuzzy now...perhaps because of my cravings for cotton candy of late...see y'all soon! (Check out Empty in a few days. I should have ch. 5 up by then...)
-Reminiscent