Author's note
It got fucking rushed at the end, had no idea what to do with this piece of crap. I guess I'm gonna go kill myself now :|
(and yes, I made Yata the seme for once. Because, seriously, he is /always/ the uke.)
The silence was killing him. As if he was being dragged through an endless tunnel, with no hope at the other side of it. He was quite certain Yata was having the same feeling. Yet there they were, lying on the bed and kissing eachother.
The only thing that reminded Saruhiko he was still alive and not deaf was the beating of his own heart. He tasted the hot fumes Yata breathed as they collided, but apart from that, there was no warmth to be felt. Fushimi obviously wasn't a virgin anymore for quite some time, despite him not ever having loved someone, but sex had never been as cold and bitter as this. The redhead attacked his neck, biting down aggressively. Fushimi let out a small groan. Was this what had been inside of Yata all this time? The anger? The pain? The misery? He had no idea. And he didn't want to know either. Thanks to all this thinking he didn't even notice that his pants were suddenly missing.
Fushimi pinned the older male under him, switching positions in the process. Yata remained wild and infuriated, his moans closely resembling the growling of an angered wolf. And Saruhiko heard and saw it all, the fire still burning in his eyes and his everything, but showing hatred instead of passion and love. The taller male was being pushed backwards again, dominance being taken over by the other, shorter male again. "Saruhiko.." he finally growled. "Saruhiko..." His hands gripped the taller's shoulders, creating bruises in the flesh. Saruhiko didn't react and just let it all happen. And once they were done and Yata let go of him, he still kept silent, listening to the other's heavy breathing that slowly became more composed and regular. Perhaps it should've aroused him. No, the whole event should've aroused him. But instead, he felt empty.
Why did you say my name? Fushimi wanted to ask him while Yata put on his clothes again. Why were you so angered, so miserable... So real? Because Totsuka died? Because Mikoto died? Because your whole world fell apart and you need someone who will accept all those emotions and all the hatred inside of you? Better yet, what the hell were you thinking when you insisted we should do this? He just couldn't do it, asking him. His mind didn't allow him to. Still lying naked on his bed, he glanced at Yata as he opened the door, hazel orbs focused on the ground. Then he paused.
"What?" Fushimi raised an eyebrow. Yata didn't respond. His hand rested on the doorknob. Was that hesitation? The redhead lifted his head and Saruhiko wanted to reach out for him, grab him by his shoulders and shake him, asking what was going on. But Yata wouldn't let him.
Do you love me?
"I guess it hasn't changed at all." Saruhiko could hear him mutter. "I still hate you." And with that, he disappeared out of his life.