~Nothing Else Matters~
He has been haunting this place since a month ago. He was walking aimlessly down the street until he got further and further away from the heart of the jaded city and ended up here in the quaint coffee shop. It relieved him when none of them recognized who he was when he stepped into the shop for the first time. The shop owner behind the counter and the patrons were people twice, three times his age. They gave one bored look at him before returning to their own things, minding their own business.
Until someone, much, much younger than any of the faces saw him, his brown eyes had widened to almost the size of saucers when he recognized who he was. He was deeply annoyed then and almost snapped with anger because he felt cheated by the peacefulness that he finally found, only to be snatched away by yet another fanatic fan. But instead of starting to rain him with questions, the brown eyes recovered and the boy blushed, stammering for his order.
The next day, he found himself at the coffee shop again. And the next day and the day followed. All the while the young waiter would politely ask him for his order and then keeping his distance from him, as if reading his mind that he wanted some privacy. Days passed into weeks and he would find himself standing in front of the shop almost everyday.
And it's not the ambiance nor the coffee that attracted him to return.
He watched him silently over the rim of his cup. Young with a tall and well formed frame that moves around obliviously, taking down orders, cleaning up the tables, taking back the empty cups to the kitchen. As always he was clad in a loose white shirt with the first button undone smartly tucked into a pair of black trousers or sometimes a pair of black jeans and a clean, white apron, wrapped snugly around his lean hips. His face was expressive, and the skin was constantly flushed each time he took his orders that it amused him to know that someone as good looking would be so shy. What interests him the most was the hair. Bright red, flaming like the spirit that he sees in those brown eyes each time he laid them on him, reminding him so much of someone from the past.
He laid the now empty cup down and tore his eyes from him, taking in the view outside the window. It was already dark and at this part of the city, there wasn't neon lights to illuminate the darkness but the shine of the full moon bathed the surrounding with an almost morning glow.
"Rukawa-san," a deep voice greeted him with a mixture of familiarity and respect. He turned his eyes to lay them into the brown pair.
"My shift's supposed to be over in half an hour," the young waiter smiled and Rukawa noticed that he was blushing again. "But I already ask my boss and he said I can go now."
He nodded. "Very well."
The young waiter beamed and went off to the kitchen taking his empty cup with him. In a lapse of a couple of minutes he exchanged his white apron with a burgundy jacket, a sports bag slung carelessly over his shoulder.
They walked down the street, side by side. The night breeze swept past them and he inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air. He glanced upward to the moon that was shining so bright that there were rings of light surrounding the globe.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, I'm not that good but MAN! I'm so excited when you agreed," the young waiter said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Iie," he shook his head, a slight motion before watching the expressive face idly. The night was bright enough for him to see the slight flush on his face, silently amused again by this young waiter's shyness
"I thought I was dreaming when I saw you walking in through the door that day. Who would thought Rukawa Kaede, Japan's basketball star would come over to that run-down coffee shop. You are my idol! It took me forever to ask you this, thank you so much for saying yes."
He shook his head again, not in the least annoyed like he did the first time they met. Instead he welcomed the enthusiasm unlike his usual reaction if it came from other enthusiasts. Those who would approach him in the social events that he hates to attend, speaking to him with a gleeful conspiracy of their passion in the sport.
"We're here," they stopped after a number of paces, the waiter motioning his head to the direction of an old basketball court with the concrete floor and baskets without nets. The kind that remind him the days when he was in high school and at the time when all that matter was basketball. He stepped in, slipping off the black jacket he was wearing, feeling the night breeze against his naked arms and through the t-shirt, which brought a chill down his spine.
The fluorescent lights on both sides of the court flickered before completely illuminating the whole court with a bright white light. He turned and saw that the waiter had also shed off his jacket and was simply clad in a white t-shirt and the black pants. At a night like this, nothing could look more ghostly. He was almost sure that it was his late lover who was standing before him with an old basketball in hand.
"Rukawa-san?"
He shook his head, almost embarrassed with the thought and gestured the waiter to begin. After five minutes, Rukawa decided he had underestimated him. To be playing against him was like having an actual match against a respected opponent. He wasn't holding back at all and neither was the young waiter as he evaded yet again and shot a lay-up.
The ball bounces a couple of times before he scoop it into his hand. "Not bad at all," he complimented sincerely, something that he rarely does.
The red head blushed, "Ah, hai. Arigatou! You are amazing."
He shrugged and turned to shoot, jumping high as if he was weightless, projecting the ball towards the hoop where it goes through without touching the rim.
"Sonna! Nice shot but that's not fair, I wasn't ready!" he protested and for once Rukawa smiled, enjoying the facial expression on the waiter's face.
The game continues well into the night, neither wanted to back down. Hours crept by and both hardly noticed it. Only when exhaustion overcame them did they finally stopped and slumped down the court, the waiter on his back as Rukawa sat beside him.
"That was amazing, Rukawa-san," still panting, the redhead smiled at him.
Rukawa looked down and the sight was conjuring up another thought in his mind. The rising and falling of the chest, the sheen on his skin after the hard exercise, the soft lips that was slightly parted as he breathe, everything, everything about him.
"Have you ever been kissed?"
The waiter's smile faltered as he returned the question with a surprised gaze. Then there was something in those expressive brown eyes, something that decided Rukawa to take the gamble. He advanced closer, bracing himself on his arm as he moved over the redhead.
"N-nani?? Rukawa-san?" he stammered.
"I want to savor you."
The brown eyes widened as he looked up the handsome face that had always effected him in ways that it shouldn't. He blinked as he swallowed the lump in his throat, a part of him wanting to scramble away and another side of him telling him to stay.
"Savor? I'm not an ice cream you know," he said stupidly, blushing deeper almost to the color of his hair. His response was rewarded by another smile.
"Oh, you are more, so much more."
Rukawa's long finger crept up slowly to touch the waiter's lips, trailing the flesh, painfully slow, expecting the softness, marveling at how the real act affecting him instead of the mere imaginations he used to have.
"People might see!" the waiter panicked but it was hardly something Rukawa would care about.
"So you don't mind?" he smiled, this time with anew confidence.
The young waiter could feel his will leaving him slowly. His breathing escalated again and his lips parted further as if welcoming the exploration of the wandering finger that felt so warm against his skin. His eyes reflecting the mixture of emotions inside. Shock, trepidation, awe and most of all, desire and want. And Rukawa could see it all, so naked to him.
"Do you want me to...?"
"Want- want what?"
"Do you want me to taste you?"
His lower lips quivered as if he wanted to reply but Rukawa smirked and lowered himself against him, cocking his head to the side before touching his lips against the softness, almost teasing before locking onto them, sealing the act.
The waiter closes his eyes, chill spreading all over him as the finger that was touching him so suggestively was replaced by a pair of lips, kissing so deep.
"Don't fight it," Rukawa whispered before pressing against the inexperienced lips lightly once again, coaxing them to open up to him.
The young waiter finally complied, breathing out slowly as he finally succumb to the mind-numbing onslaught. Even then, he could hear blood pounding in his ears as his head spin faster and faster as the kiss heightened. Mindlessly, his hands moved upward to lock around his Rukawa's neck to pull him closer, to deepened the kiss.
But for Rukawa, in the back of his mind, images from the past started to play again. Of laughter, secret smiles and stolen kisses and the love he used to have. And he noticed something amiss. He noticed how he was kissing those lips almost automatically; the passion he had expected to rise higher had simply left him as soon as their lips met.
It's not the same...
He pulled away.
"Nani?" the waiter asked with trembling voice.
"I can't," he quickly got himself back to his feet, running shaky fingers through his hair. He looked down at the confused waiter and felt dread washing over him. He closed his eyes and turned away.
"Doshite?"
He shook his head as the thought flashes again in his mind.
It's not the same...
Tears welled up in his eyes and he quickly wiped them away in a quick, angry gesture. "It's not the same."
"Not the same?" the waiter picked himself up with the most painful realization; he was being rejected. His hand crept forward to touch him but Rukawa shot him a sharp glare. He stopped on his track and became more confused, blaming himself for not being more experienced to pleased him.
Rukawa shook his head. What was he doing? What was he thinking? To involve the young waiter in the mess he was in. "It's not your fault," he spoke, his voice almost gentle. He wanted to convince him that it wasn't his fault at all but words are useless now. "Gomen nasai," with that he left.
"Rukawa-san!"
He ignored the voice that was shouting out at him, the chill of the night, the bright moon and the beautiful sky. Because none of it matters, none if it means anything to him anymore. It's over the day the doahou smiled to him for the last time before he closes his eyes for good. He misses those brown eyes, at how they would burn with passion that could only match his, at how they would lay on him with gentle understanding when things went wrong and how they would shine with love that always warmed him in a way that surpasses mere physical satiation. He missed them with a violent frustration because he couldn't stop questioning himself why can't he die out of heartache? Why was he still breathing when for this past two months? He had thought that the young waiter would fill the gap that was left so wide open but all he felt in the end were guilt and emptiness.
He started to run, the heavy feeling of remorse inside him intensify. He closes his eyes tight, pressing his hands onto his temples, trying to shake the emotion off but it was like a vicious circle as remorse triggered out another pain and another and another. In the end he was numb, drowning slowly in his emotions.
Why do you have to die, Hanamichi?
The question returned to him after weeks and he stopped on his track, almost stumbling forward only to find himself again in the center of the madness. The city with bright lights and loud noises. The dizzying sight spun around him like a mad carousel, strange faces turned to him with recognition and surprise.
"Rukawa Kaede!" they started to scream out his name, almost in unison.
He backed away slowly but they were around him. His body spent from the game and all the running he did but he need to find an escape and he started to sprint away again.
Rukawa Kaede!
Cornered and desperate, he came upon the main road. The walk sign was red but he was heedless as he was heedless by the fact that it was Saturday night and the scene was alive as the road was filled with flashy cars, half drunk youngsters behind the wheels. But it doesn't matter, nothing does, he will get away one way or another. He crossed the road oblivious of the honks and the screeching tires, oblivious of the screaming around him, oblivious of everything but the need to get away and those expressive brown eyes.
Hanamichi.
He didn't see it, rather felt what happened after that. It was like a a forceful blow, sending him flying before the pain came, which was intense and excruciating. Nothing felt like it and he suffered in that instance which felt forever but everything vanished when the night darkened, pitch black.
Rukawa Kaede...
Kaede
....
Ka-e-de...
He opened his eyes into a pair of sparkling browns that were looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Finally! I thought I need to push you off the bed to wake you up," he said with a huff.
Rukawa eyes widened as he tried to recollect what happened.
"Nani, kitsune, get up, hayyaku! We have a major game today, baka! How can you actually sleep?!" Hanamichi slid off the bed but Rukawa got up quickly to wrap his arms around the lean waist.
"Nani, Kaede? Something wrong?" the deep voice softened.
"I just want to hold you," he buried his face into the silky mass of red hair, taking in the scent as he tightened his hold to bring his lover closer against him.
Everything felt real, him in his arms, the familiar scent, the voice so clear in his ears, and those eyes. But it wasn't enough, he wanted to taste him. Grasping the strong shoulders, he turned Hanamichi to face him, rejoicing that he would lost himself again in those eyes.
"Anou, not to break the mood but we have a game in two hours and like they said, no sex before a big game," Hanamichi tried to smile but Rukawa could see that what he had in mind is going in sync with his love, he smiled as he lowered him to his back.
"Whatever," he whispered before planting a soft kiss on those lips, savoring the familiar sweetness that still surprises him each time. In his mind all he could think of was this man in his arms because as long as he was there, nothing else matters.
~OWARI~