The Gift that Got Away
The preparations for Takahiro's surprise birthday party were well under way. It was going to be in Usagi's home and Misaki had been busily cleaning, cooking, and decorating for it while Takahiro's wife's mission was to get him there on time for the big, "surprise."
Everything was falling into place beautifully. The only thing that seemed out of place was Usagi. He had been dutifully helping all morning and in some cases his help had even been useful.
Sure, the punch he mixed was too strong and he managed to get the decorations wrapped around him more than the room, but he was still putting in a lot of effort.
Under normal circumstances this might have put Misaki in a good mood, but these were not normal circumstances. It was Takahiro's birthday party and all signs were pointing to one, inescapable conclusion—Usagi was still in love with his brother.
The younger man looked miserable as he arranged the fruit tray, which purposefully contained neither strawberries nor cherries. His eyes opened wide in a surprise of his own as Usagi's arm hooked around his waist, pulling him away from the cantaloupe he was slicing and toward the older man's broad chest.
"HEY!" Misaki cried out. "What gives all the sudden? I didn't think you were interested in stuff like that. Don't you have something to do to prepare for onii-san?"
Usagi's fingers had already found their way onto warm, smooth skin. "What are you talking about?" He saw no reason why the conversation needed to prevent more touching, so with just a bit of struggling he managed to bring Misaki down to the kitchen floor. The writer smiled when he earned a gasp and a moan from the boy's lips as one hand strayed even further up to make contact with a hidden nipple.
Misaki's cheeks felt hot as he tried to pull away from the man he was afraid was slipping away from him. "It doesn't matter! Onii-san matters, remember?"
Usagi's brow arched slightly as the college student broke free and tucked himself into a ball beside him on the floor, but he remained silent. That was all Misaki needed to confirm his suspicions. "I don't want to be a replacement," said the dejected voice.
"Is that what this is all about?" Usagi cupped the boy's delicate chin in his hand. "I thought we already settled that. I love you, not Takahiro."
Misaki wanted to argue. He wanted to call him a liar. But somehow he had gotten trapped by those eyes that always seemed to look down inside him, seeing things that even he didn't know were there. "But…you've been cleaning," he said weakly.
He narrowed his eyes slightly as he continued with more strength. If there wasn't one devious reason for his odd behavior then there must be another. "You even offered to help with the food! Why else would you do things like that? You aren't sick are you? Or maybe this is like some kind of body-snatcher movie and you aren't Usagi at all!"
"Pfft," the older man answered, playing with the brunet's hair. "No more B-movie marathons for you. "
Misaki looked only slightly annoyed, but he had become exasperated. "But if nothing is going on, then why were you helping for once?"
Usagi only shrugged. "I thought you might like it. Don't worry, it won't happen again." He kissed Misaki's forehead and smiled.
"…oh…thanks."
Misaki watched as Usagi got up, took a handful of fruit and went to sit on the sofa to watch some TV. Then he looked around the room at everything that was left and then to the clock, which was almost out of time.
"Oops."