Denial Isn't a River in Egypt

By: Ceriadara

All that matters is that I want to reach out and pull him close and never let him go. ...What the HELL?! KaRe shonen-ai, possibly YuBo
A/N Ahhh, I'm such a horrible person. TT-TT

I really, really, really, really, REALLY should not be writing this story...I have my other stories to update and elaborate on and stuff. But I'm still writing. Dammit.

So yah. I've tried writing first-person Rei; now I'll let Kai try his hand at being narrator. Before you read, I apologize for him being so OOC (I think. You'll just have to judge for yourself). Now onto something entirely different: the story will only have YuBo and actual shonen-ai instead of just hints if I continue this fic. It's up to the readers to decide. If the majority of reviews say I should stop, I will. If it's vice verse, then I'll keep writing. 'Kay?

-Management

P.S. Oh! This fanfic is dedicated to the lovely Kitten Koneko, who has been incredibly kind to me with her wonderful PMs. Thanks so much!

Chapter One: My Big Fat Ego

I can't remember running from anything before.

I mean, I've backed out of deals once or twice, I've left behind a lot of people, I've betrayed some close friends, but I've never actually run away from a fear or a problem. I never run away from home when my parents argue; I never run away from the challenges handed to me. Because that's just how I am.

So why am I running from this?

This...this feeling. I know that I'm this cold jerk, but I'm not afraid of feelings... Maybe it's the fact that it's unknown...that could be why I'm running. But no, that doesn't make sense. I've a ton of natural curiosty, and it would never allow me to run away from something new without discovering what it is.

I don't know how to explain it. It's awkward and somewhat confusing and saddening at the worst of times, and giddy and laughter-inducing at the best. It's caused endless frustration, awkward small talk, angry tears, and quiet smiles. Nothing has ever drawn quite that range of emotion from me; I wasn't even sure I was capable of feeling such lengths. And yet here I am, dissecting myself to try to figure out what the hell this thing is and why I'm running.

I don't think that it's love or anything like that. Come on. In almost every novel or poem or piece of bloody fanfiction that I've ever read, love is described as something so "beautiful and light and wonderfully shiny" or some such nonsense, and that's definitely not what this is. This...it's frustrating, quiet, and incredibly difficult to decipher.

Not to mention that the person that induces this feeling certainly doesn't fit the description of the "crush" or "love-interest". Yes, he's...well, beautiful, and I'm most definitly not the first to admit it, but other than that, nothing else works. In all previously stated examples, the love interest is, if submissive or uke or whatever, very meek and quiet, humble and withdrawn, shy and blushing and very "damsel-in-distress"-ish. Him...he almost seems like he'd be submissive at first glance, but he's very strong and has confident opinions. He's humble enough, true, but he's definitly not afraid to speak his mind when the moment calls for it. He was only a little shy, and he got over it (I think).

According to all of the "data" I've collected, the interest's smiles are supposed to "shine brilliantly"; the one with feelings is supposed to have a heart that "beats wildly against the chest" whenever the interest is in range; there are no truly awkward moments, just perfectly orchestrated fumbling in the dark. That's literature for you.

His smiles don't "shine brilliantly"; they glow softly. My heart doesn't suddenly go into cardiac arrest when he comes into view, although I'm rather more attentive when he's in my line of sight, and I've been known to stare at him for increasingly long periods of time. And there are plently of non-orchestrated, entirely uncomfortable awkward moments, especially when we're forced to share hotel rooms.

And then there are the dreams.

Now, according to those trashy little novels that they sell at Wal-Mart (I'm a big reader; I have to buy something when I've read everything else. Don't judge me.), when you have dreams about the person you love, they're generally called "wet dreams" and contain some erotic material of some sort.

It's not that I've never had any of those about him or anything, but I don't think that there's any bisexual/gay (I'm firmly the former) man that can say that they haven't. Like I said, he's beautiful. But the strange thing is is that in most of my dreams, it's just normal, every-day stuff. Kind of. Like, I'll watch him cooking or something, and I'll wrap my arms around him and just hug him. That's all. Maybe a light kiss on the cheek. Sometimes I dream that I'm holding him while he reads or something.

So what does it mean? Do I just want a deeper friendship with him, maybe? Yeah. That's probably it.

And I mean, there are some people who believe that erotic dreams just symbolize the want to grow closer to the person. It's logical, especially since our friendship has been drifting apart ever since the awkwardness and the running away from whatever the hell this feeling is began. Maybe I just want the closeness we had back in our lives again. He was practically my best friend, and he'd flat-out told me that I was his. So now it all makes sense.

"Penny for your thoughts, Kai?"

And now it doesn't.

Because, you see, every time he says something, every time I see him, every time he does something that's just so totally him, I get that feeling again, and the dreams don't matter anymore. All that matters is that I want to reach out and pull him close and never let him go. ...What the HELL?!

This isn't supposed to happen to me. I'm supposed to be cold, logical, and calculating. I'm supposed to dissect this feeling so thoroughly that its signficance fades into nothingness, and then I can go on with my life.

Only I'm not. I'm not cold and logical and calculating and cruel and a horrible person with a terrible past. I'm emotional, overly so sometimes. I'm illogical at times, ranting to myself about everything and nothing. I only calculate in beybattles, and other than that I'm mostly spontaneous. I'm not cruel; I'm a freaking closet animal lover. And I have no terrible past: I grew up with fighting parents who eventually got divorced, just like hundreds of thousands of other kids.

And I can't dissect this goddamn feeling because it's too complicated and I keep running away because my curiosty failed me and I'm terrified of this unknown thing that's creeping into me.

There. I said it.

I'm afraid.

It's a scary feeling. It swoops and soars and laughs and crys and screams, and I can't control it, which scares me most of all. I'm always in control. What is this thing, to come in and direct my actions and words and thoughts? And I can be the biggest smart-ass in the world about it, but it won't change the fact that I don't know what it is and I don't know what to do about it.

I shake my head. "It's nothing, Rei."

It's everything, Rei.

You're everything.

Dammit.

I'm in the shower of our shared hotel room (goddamn cheap BBA). ...How do I end up with him as a roommate?

Not that I'd choose anyone else, mind you. My choices are fairly limited as it is; on one hand we've got Mr. I-Ate-Five-Cans-of-Refried-Beans a.k.a. Sir Snoresalot, Sugardaddy, or SuperNerd, while on the other hand we've got friendy, beautiful, non-gaseous/snoring/hyped up Rei. Who would you choose? But really. I don't recall ever saying, "I'll stay with Rei". I don't recall Rei ever saying, "I'll stay with Kai". Ah, well. I should know better than to complain about things I can't (and wouldn't) change.

But anyway.

I'm in the shower, currently, and as far as I know Rei is still reading my copy of Anna Karenina on the couch. I have to say, the guy's got good taste in literature...which means that he has the same as mine, which means that he reads practically anything. During the better days of our friendship, I recall him sniggering at my collection of trashy sex novels before I pointed out that he had a stash of some seriously heavy NC-17-rated yaoi manga stuffed in a bag under his bed. He didn't snigger after that, although I did.

And yes, I said "better days". Like I said earlier, our friendship has just gone downhill since this whole feeling thing started. I mean, every time I'm around him I can barely control my tongue, and when he gets tired of basically one-sided conversation, we lapse into these really, really awkward silences. The only other time we ever had an awkward silence was when I walked in on him in the shower. I didn't see anything aside from his wet shoulders, and I quickly left. We didn't speak for the next few days, and he turned red as a cherry whenever he met my eyes. When I finally broke the silence to assure him I'd seen nothing, everything went back to being okay.

But, really. Rei...he was probably one of the best friends I'll ever have. Yuri and Boris and Ivan and Sergei...they're all great. But I'll never really understand what they went through, just like they'll never really understand how so many pampered teenagers can complain about their sheltered happy lives. We're friends, though. Yuri is almost like family to me - hell, he is like family to me. He's like my brother. But not my best friend.

I'm terrified that this feeling is going to make me lose the closest friend I'll ever have. I told him stuff that I never told Yuri or the others, never told my parents...stuff that I didn't even tell Dranzer. And now I can't even have a regular conversation with the guy. As soon as I think I have the answer, as soon as I think that I can fix everything, he says something and I'll be back to square one in a heartbeat.

I let my head fall against the shower wall with a dull thunk, sighing. I turn the water off and climb out, wrapping a rather rough towel around my waist, my hair dripping cold water down my spine. I leave the bathroom, careful not to slip and fall on the chilled tiles like the fool that I am.

In the room Rei and I share, I stand before the mirror attatched to the dresser. My reflection is the same as it always is after a shower: my hair is loose and hanging in my eyes, which seem redder than usual; my skin gives sharp contrast to my now black hair; water is everywhere, and it always seems to be there until I put the clothes on. Then it mysteriously vanishes. Hmm.

I hear the door open and I turn, eyes widening, when I see Rei standing in the doorway, hand over his mouth, Anna Karenina closed in his hand. He blinks, once, twice, three times, before the situation really sets in. I can tell when it does: he flushes a dull red and immediately begins to stammer behind his hand.

"Uh, um, s-sorry...I-I'll go now...b-bye..."

He is gone in the blink of an eye, the door slamming behind him.

I wait for a moment, and then evaluate myself. The feeling is there, although is seems to be always present these days. My heart, however, was beating wildly against my chest, and in the dark room, I wished for his brilliant smile.

Dammit!

A/N In case you didn't get that bit at the end, it goes back to when Kai is ranting about how he doesn't know what the feeling is and why it can't be love. He says, "According to all of the "data" I've collected, the interest's smiles are supposed to "shine brilliantly"; the one with feelings is supposed to have a heart that "beats wildly against the chest" whenever the interest is in range..."

Which happened. XD

So yeah. Kai's a bit of a lovestruck-doofus in this, although he's in serious denial.

I'm sorry about how different and stupid this is...but I just really felt like writing it...plus I owe Kitten Konekosomething, since she's been so great to me. So yeah.

- Management