~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Type: shounen ai (YoKen, RanKen), sap
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: shounen ai, mild language
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company. In short, *not mine*
Revived (yes, it actually died!): Dec. 14, 2003
Completed: Dec. 15, 2003
Finalized: Dec. 16, 2003
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
T h e L o v e Y o u W a n t
by Purple
This must be a dream.
You here in my arms right now. Crying over my shoulder as I wrap my arms around you. I tell you everything will be okay, and you hold on tighter.
This must be a dream.
I, comforting you like this. . .
I slowly open my eyes to the rays of the morning sun and the sounds of traffic passing by. I turn my head to bury my face to the cushion. Feeling a strain on my neck, I rub a hand over my nape. Then, one by one, I begin to feel the other little aches all over my body.
Sleeping on the couch kills.
I drag myself to sit up and proceed to stretch my upper body, raising my arms to the sky. I check the time on the VCR: 10:06.
Thank god, I have the afternoon shift today. Otherwise, I'm late.
I pause for a while before dragging my body yet again to the kitchen. By instinct, I then reach for my cigarette pack and a rubber band at the top of the refrigerator . Hair tied with the rubber band, I light my cigarette and proceed with my morning ritual of making myself a cup of coffee.
Afterwards, I sit myself on the counter. From my morning brew, my eyes travel to the slightly opened door of my room.
It's not a dream.
He's really here. He really was upset. He really was crying.
And I really had him in my arms.
I could go in there right now and watch him sleep, but I've already done that for an hour last night as he lay on my bed -- drunk as hell. Don't get me wrong, I didn't get him drunk just to get him in bed. He came to my apartment that way.
He and Aya had a fight again. But last night, for the first time in all those nights he would knock on my apartment door, he came to me drunk. And Ken wouldn't even touch liquor, so I knew it was that bad.
Ken is naïve and ungainly, and he always aims to please Aya. And these are the things that drew Aya to him. Nowadays, these things are what cause their arguments.
And that's where I come in.
I guess it has always been this way: Aya breaks him and he comes to me. And when everything's all sunshine again, he goes back to Aya. He comes and goes. And I welcome him every time. It's the parting that kills me, though.
Sometimes I just want to fucking grab him, hold him, kiss him, so he wouldn't go anymore. I want to tell him all the things I've been keeping inside of me so that he would finally know. So that he would finally stay. . .and choose me.
But if I make a move on him, he would definitely push me away because he would think it's the crazy playboy in me. And if I tell him how I feel, he wouldn't believe me because he sees me only as a friend.
I can never win.
And yet, I welcome him every time Aya makes him cry. Because I couldn't bear to see him cry, to see him upset and lost. Because I care about him.
Because I'm a fucking stupid martyr!
Every girl in this city would want to get in bed with me. But the one boy I want to really love wouldn't even realize how I feel about him unless it bites him right on the face.
The irony is frustrating: I can get all the girls I want. But I can't get the one person I need.
"Yoji?"
I look up and see Ken trudge out of my room. He is wearing his boxer shorts and a college T-shirt of mine that I lent him the night before. His hair is sticking out on different directions as he rub the sleep from his eyes.
Fucking cute.
"Well, well, well, look who got out of bed late," I remark teasingly. "So how are you this morning?"
"My head hurts and I feel like puking," he complains drowsily.
"It's called a hangover, KenKen," I tell him as I get up from my seat.
"What time is it?" he asks, taking a seat.
"It's time for you to give my cure for hangovers a try." I bring out a glass and pour him a cup of tomato juice.
"What is this?" he asks to the drink I presented before him.
"Tomato juice."
Ken studies the red concoction for a while, then looks at me.
"Try it," I urge the boy as I return to my seat next to him.
Obediently, Ken lifts the glass, sniffs at its contents, pauses, then cautiously takes a good sip, his face crinkling at the strange new taste.
And the reason why I find that cute as well seem to elude me now, but I don't care. Catching myself, I decide to look away, not wanting the boy to catch me staring at him with a stupid grin on my face.
"I'm sorry." Ken says quietly after a while, his eyes on the couch where I had just slept on.
"Sorry for what?"
"For running to you for help again." -- he turns to face me -- "For bothering you again, especially this time. You had to go sleep on the couch and-- "
"Don't," I stop him. "Don't be sorry about it, Ken, because it's like you're also sorry that I was being a friend to you."
He gives me a weary smile. "I think you being my friend is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
And with what Ken said, I know that I could completely turn this conversation to my advantage. I could make him forget about Aya even just for a day. I could make him realize I can be more than a friend to him. But that just isn't my style...So I find myself remarking, "Next to being with Aya."
"I don't want to talk about him," Ken turns away from me to his half-empty glass. "I hate him right now."
"Ken, he may be a jerk now, but he'll make up for it in the long run."
Didn't I say I'm a fucking stupid martyr?
"When? By the time my self-esteem is dead?" he answers bitterly.
"No, by the time it gets into a coma."
He shoots me a glare. "Not funny."
"What I'm trying to say is that Aya just needs time," I tell him with a smile for a facade. "He's not exactly Mr. Emotions, you know."
"And I'm not exactly happy about that," Ken points out.
"Patience, little grasshopper."
Ken takes another sip from his drink, studies it for a while, then, shaking his head and with a lop-sided smile, replies "You know, I always thought that being with Aya would make me the happiest man alive. And now that I have him, I feel like shit."
"Love hurts, Ken," I tell him, knowing for a fact.
Still looking at his drink, Ken wets his lips then says, "Well. . .I love you."
". . .!"
"But how come you always make me feel better?"
I stumble with my answer. "It's-- it's different."
I'm a masochist, a friggin' masochist.
"Different?" Chocolate-brown eyes gaze up at me, and I have to look away.
"Yeah," I stand up to walk towards the refrigerator, suddenly feeling very thirsty. "You love me as. . .as a friend," I reply ever so casually.
Will somebody please kill me?
"Well. . .Sometimes I wish I could love you more."
I stop at my tracks, just right behind Ken. Frozen, I don't know what to say.
"Maybe. . ." he continues, "Maybe if Aya and I. . .if we had never. . ."
_RIIIIING!_
At that moment, I want to kill whoever it is who dialed my number.
I walk over to the phone on the other side of the room. "Hello? Oh, it's you. . .yeah. . .last night. . .he's okay. . .sure." I pass the receiver to Ken. "It's Aya. He wants to talk to you."
"Hello?. . .yeah. . ."
Leaving them to talk, I step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Ironically, in this cramped space, I found room to breathe. Standing in front of the medicine cabinet, I study my reflection in the mirror. I could still see Ken's words in my eyes.
_Maybe. . .maybe if Aya and I. . .if we had never. . ._
Don't get my hopes up, Ken. Don't say things out of despair. Don't say you wish you were with me with tears in your eyes. Just please, don't.
_I think being your friend is the best thing that has ever happened to me._
I guess, in that case, I'll just keep being your friend, if I could make you happier that way. Because I don't want to hurt you. Because I don't want to lose you. Because I want to be the one you can run to. Because I want to be the one who will make you feel better.
Because I want to be the best thing that has ever happened to you -- forever.
* * * * * *
When I got out of the bathroom, I found Ken standing by the window, thinking to himself. He already has his clothes on from the night before. Looks like he's ready to leave.
"I guess you two have patched things up?" I remark, the sound of my voice making Ken look up.
"I guess," he replies weakly, looking back out.
"Good." -- I walk over to him -- "Didn't I say he'd come around?" I smile at Ken, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded quietly, then proceeded to tell me, "Aya-- He. . .he asked me to move in with him."
Taken aback, "Oh" was all I could manage to say. I wonder if Ken felt my hand tense on his shoulder at his words.
"Yeah," he nods to his feet.
"That's-- that's good," I almost choke on my words.
"You think so?"
I let out an unsteady laugh. "Why should it matter what I think?"
"Because it does," Ken shot back. "It matters to me because I need to know."
Speechless, I look down at glazed chocolate-brown eyes.
"Yoji," -- Ken's eyes are quivering -- "Do you really think I should move in with Aya? Do you really think I should be with him?"
And there it is, the make-or-break question. The question that could turn everything around. The question I know the answer to by heart and yet I can't seem to find the courage to say. I take a deep breath...
"Yes, I think you should move in with him," I lie, then proceeded to turn my head away, not wanting to see Ken's reaction. The same way I don't want him to see the pain and guilt in my eyes.
From hereon, let it be known that Kudou Yoji is also a coward.
Ken became quiet for a moment after that before announcing, "I should get going."
Without a word, I walk him to the door.
At the door, I find my voice again. "Bye, Ken," I tell to his back, as if putting an end to something.
Suddenly, Ken swirls around and wraps his arms around me. "Goodbye, Yoji," comes his muffled voice, his lips pressing against my shoulder blade.
I hug him back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, not wanting to let him go.
But with one last squeeze, Ken leaves.
Maybe things will work out for them this time. Maybe living together would be better for them. Maybe they'll get their happy ending.
But until then, I'll be waiting here. Waiting for that day when he would come to me again, not because he and Aya had another fight but because he chose me. That day when he would tell me that he loves me with a smile on his face.
That day when Ken would come. . .and stay.
~Owari~
Thanx for reading! ^_^ Let me know what you think, onegai?
Type: shounen ai (YoKen, RanKen), sap
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: shounen ai, mild language
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company. In short, *not mine*
Revived (yes, it actually died!): Dec. 14, 2003
Completed: Dec. 15, 2003
Finalized: Dec. 16, 2003
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
T h e L o v e Y o u W a n t
by Purple
This must be a dream.
You here in my arms right now. Crying over my shoulder as I wrap my arms around you. I tell you everything will be okay, and you hold on tighter.
This must be a dream.
I, comforting you like this. . .
I slowly open my eyes to the rays of the morning sun and the sounds of traffic passing by. I turn my head to bury my face to the cushion. Feeling a strain on my neck, I rub a hand over my nape. Then, one by one, I begin to feel the other little aches all over my body.
Sleeping on the couch kills.
I drag myself to sit up and proceed to stretch my upper body, raising my arms to the sky. I check the time on the VCR: 10:06.
Thank god, I have the afternoon shift today. Otherwise, I'm late.
I pause for a while before dragging my body yet again to the kitchen. By instinct, I then reach for my cigarette pack and a rubber band at the top of the refrigerator . Hair tied with the rubber band, I light my cigarette and proceed with my morning ritual of making myself a cup of coffee.
Afterwards, I sit myself on the counter. From my morning brew, my eyes travel to the slightly opened door of my room.
It's not a dream.
He's really here. He really was upset. He really was crying.
And I really had him in my arms.
I could go in there right now and watch him sleep, but I've already done that for an hour last night as he lay on my bed -- drunk as hell. Don't get me wrong, I didn't get him drunk just to get him in bed. He came to my apartment that way.
He and Aya had a fight again. But last night, for the first time in all those nights he would knock on my apartment door, he came to me drunk. And Ken wouldn't even touch liquor, so I knew it was that bad.
Ken is naïve and ungainly, and he always aims to please Aya. And these are the things that drew Aya to him. Nowadays, these things are what cause their arguments.
And that's where I come in.
I guess it has always been this way: Aya breaks him and he comes to me. And when everything's all sunshine again, he goes back to Aya. He comes and goes. And I welcome him every time. It's the parting that kills me, though.
Sometimes I just want to fucking grab him, hold him, kiss him, so he wouldn't go anymore. I want to tell him all the things I've been keeping inside of me so that he would finally know. So that he would finally stay. . .and choose me.
But if I make a move on him, he would definitely push me away because he would think it's the crazy playboy in me. And if I tell him how I feel, he wouldn't believe me because he sees me only as a friend.
I can never win.
And yet, I welcome him every time Aya makes him cry. Because I couldn't bear to see him cry, to see him upset and lost. Because I care about him.
Because I'm a fucking stupid martyr!
Every girl in this city would want to get in bed with me. But the one boy I want to really love wouldn't even realize how I feel about him unless it bites him right on the face.
The irony is frustrating: I can get all the girls I want. But I can't get the one person I need.
"Yoji?"
I look up and see Ken trudge out of my room. He is wearing his boxer shorts and a college T-shirt of mine that I lent him the night before. His hair is sticking out on different directions as he rub the sleep from his eyes.
Fucking cute.
"Well, well, well, look who got out of bed late," I remark teasingly. "So how are you this morning?"
"My head hurts and I feel like puking," he complains drowsily.
"It's called a hangover, KenKen," I tell him as I get up from my seat.
"What time is it?" he asks, taking a seat.
"It's time for you to give my cure for hangovers a try." I bring out a glass and pour him a cup of tomato juice.
"What is this?" he asks to the drink I presented before him.
"Tomato juice."
Ken studies the red concoction for a while, then looks at me.
"Try it," I urge the boy as I return to my seat next to him.
Obediently, Ken lifts the glass, sniffs at its contents, pauses, then cautiously takes a good sip, his face crinkling at the strange new taste.
And the reason why I find that cute as well seem to elude me now, but I don't care. Catching myself, I decide to look away, not wanting the boy to catch me staring at him with a stupid grin on my face.
"I'm sorry." Ken says quietly after a while, his eyes on the couch where I had just slept on.
"Sorry for what?"
"For running to you for help again." -- he turns to face me -- "For bothering you again, especially this time. You had to go sleep on the couch and-- "
"Don't," I stop him. "Don't be sorry about it, Ken, because it's like you're also sorry that I was being a friend to you."
He gives me a weary smile. "I think you being my friend is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
And with what Ken said, I know that I could completely turn this conversation to my advantage. I could make him forget about Aya even just for a day. I could make him realize I can be more than a friend to him. But that just isn't my style...So I find myself remarking, "Next to being with Aya."
"I don't want to talk about him," Ken turns away from me to his half-empty glass. "I hate him right now."
"Ken, he may be a jerk now, but he'll make up for it in the long run."
Didn't I say I'm a fucking stupid martyr?
"When? By the time my self-esteem is dead?" he answers bitterly.
"No, by the time it gets into a coma."
He shoots me a glare. "Not funny."
"What I'm trying to say is that Aya just needs time," I tell him with a smile for a facade. "He's not exactly Mr. Emotions, you know."
"And I'm not exactly happy about that," Ken points out.
"Patience, little grasshopper."
Ken takes another sip from his drink, studies it for a while, then, shaking his head and with a lop-sided smile, replies "You know, I always thought that being with Aya would make me the happiest man alive. And now that I have him, I feel like shit."
"Love hurts, Ken," I tell him, knowing for a fact.
Still looking at his drink, Ken wets his lips then says, "Well. . .I love you."
". . .!"
"But how come you always make me feel better?"
I stumble with my answer. "It's-- it's different."
I'm a masochist, a friggin' masochist.
"Different?" Chocolate-brown eyes gaze up at me, and I have to look away.
"Yeah," I stand up to walk towards the refrigerator, suddenly feeling very thirsty. "You love me as. . .as a friend," I reply ever so casually.
Will somebody please kill me?
"Well. . .Sometimes I wish I could love you more."
I stop at my tracks, just right behind Ken. Frozen, I don't know what to say.
"Maybe. . ." he continues, "Maybe if Aya and I. . .if we had never. . ."
_RIIIIING!_
At that moment, I want to kill whoever it is who dialed my number.
I walk over to the phone on the other side of the room. "Hello? Oh, it's you. . .yeah. . .last night. . .he's okay. . .sure." I pass the receiver to Ken. "It's Aya. He wants to talk to you."
"Hello?. . .yeah. . ."
Leaving them to talk, I step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Ironically, in this cramped space, I found room to breathe. Standing in front of the medicine cabinet, I study my reflection in the mirror. I could still see Ken's words in my eyes.
_Maybe. . .maybe if Aya and I. . .if we had never. . ._
Don't get my hopes up, Ken. Don't say things out of despair. Don't say you wish you were with me with tears in your eyes. Just please, don't.
_I think being your friend is the best thing that has ever happened to me._
I guess, in that case, I'll just keep being your friend, if I could make you happier that way. Because I don't want to hurt you. Because I don't want to lose you. Because I want to be the one you can run to. Because I want to be the one who will make you feel better.
Because I want to be the best thing that has ever happened to you -- forever.
* * * * * *
When I got out of the bathroom, I found Ken standing by the window, thinking to himself. He already has his clothes on from the night before. Looks like he's ready to leave.
"I guess you two have patched things up?" I remark, the sound of my voice making Ken look up.
"I guess," he replies weakly, looking back out.
"Good." -- I walk over to him -- "Didn't I say he'd come around?" I smile at Ken, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded quietly, then proceeded to tell me, "Aya-- He. . .he asked me to move in with him."
Taken aback, "Oh" was all I could manage to say. I wonder if Ken felt my hand tense on his shoulder at his words.
"Yeah," he nods to his feet.
"That's-- that's good," I almost choke on my words.
"You think so?"
I let out an unsteady laugh. "Why should it matter what I think?"
"Because it does," Ken shot back. "It matters to me because I need to know."
Speechless, I look down at glazed chocolate-brown eyes.
"Yoji," -- Ken's eyes are quivering -- "Do you really think I should move in with Aya? Do you really think I should be with him?"
And there it is, the make-or-break question. The question that could turn everything around. The question I know the answer to by heart and yet I can't seem to find the courage to say. I take a deep breath...
"Yes, I think you should move in with him," I lie, then proceeded to turn my head away, not wanting to see Ken's reaction. The same way I don't want him to see the pain and guilt in my eyes.
From hereon, let it be known that Kudou Yoji is also a coward.
Ken became quiet for a moment after that before announcing, "I should get going."
Without a word, I walk him to the door.
At the door, I find my voice again. "Bye, Ken," I tell to his back, as if putting an end to something.
Suddenly, Ken swirls around and wraps his arms around me. "Goodbye, Yoji," comes his muffled voice, his lips pressing against my shoulder blade.
I hug him back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, not wanting to let him go.
But with one last squeeze, Ken leaves.
Maybe things will work out for them this time. Maybe living together would be better for them. Maybe they'll get their happy ending.
But until then, I'll be waiting here. Waiting for that day when he would come to me again, not because he and Aya had another fight but because he chose me. That day when he would tell me that he loves me with a smile on his face.
That day when Ken would come. . .and stay.
~Owari~
Thanx for reading! ^_^ Let me know what you think, onegai?