Warnings: Angst?
Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran.
Authoress Note: This was a crack request on SHINE, which, of course, turned angsty. Please don't take this too seriously, I wrote it in one sitting. Yay for repressed!old-man love. XD
---o0o---
"Our sons are getting along well."
Yuzuru looks up at his friend (former?) sitting across from him, in his office, but not actually looking in his direction. He holds a glass of aged Scotch, but seems disinterested in the contents and Yuzuru wonders what they are doing here. Pretending that time never passed and neither of them grew up?
He smiles weakly at the other man, ignoring that it's wasted because Yoshio isn't even looking at him.
"Yes, they remind me of a younger version of ourselves."
Yoshio turns towards him and scoffs, looking down into his drink.
"You were never that stupid."
You were never that ruthless, Yuzuru thinks, but bites his tongue.
Instead, he asks, "How is business going?"
"Well. There was an unexpected rise in stock this year and we are grateful." He says purposefully polite, like the whole conversation is, and Yuzuru isn't quite sure what to say next.
The silence around them is stifling.
Somehow, when Yuzuru asked his old friend to visit him, he had expected something different. He didn't think about how much they both have changed, how old they've both become and it hurts more than Yuzuru thought it would.
"I've missed you," he eventually blurts out, a nervous problem he always had, and Yoshio locks eyes with him briefly. There might have been something there, his steel-grey eyes losing their shield in surprise, but he looks away too quickly, like he doesn't want Yuzuru to see. There is more silence and then Yoshio asks, "How is your mother doing?" completely ignoring the statement.
Yuzuru frowns, finally getting the nerve to ask the question that has been plaguing his thoughts.
"What are we doing?"
Yoshio gives a non-committed shrug. "You were the one who invited me here."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
The other man sighs and shifts in his seat, like he's weary about what he's about to say.
"We aren't in high school anymore, Yuzuru. I can't be that person anymore."
"Can't or won't?"
Yoshio takes a sip of his drink, his eyes burning into other's above the rim of the glass before he replies dryly,
"Both."
Yuzuru sighs, he should have realized this would have been counter-productive, and leans back into his chair.
"You were right," he sounds exasperated, "this was a waste of time."
Yoshio's smile is thin. "I'm glad you're finally starting to see things my way. So if you're done with this," he gestures vaguely around him, "I have work to attend to."
He stands and, hearing no protests, turns to leave.
"Wait."
He stops.
"I don't want this."
Yuzuru takes the other male's hand in his, but Yoshio snatches it away, angrily.
"We can't always have what we want, Yuzuru." His tone is caustic and bites into the other male's heart.
"You of all people should know that."
The implication hurts more than the words themselves and, pained, Yuzuru can't find it in him to stop his former friend, confidante, and lover from leaving. Quietly, he goes back to his work, trying to forget what just happened.
Yoshio was right; the meeting was a bad idea.