Stargasm
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A/N: As much as I love Boogie Man, and all my other stories, I have officially lost my flash drive. It still might be at my school, but I don't know... I'll try my hardest to get it back, and get the next few chapters out, but I think I'm soon going to end Boogie Man, and the rest of my stories.
At this statement, I would like to present you with Stargasm.
Warnings: This chapter, just swearing and a little mention of blood. Nothing more.
Disclaimer: Yup. No ownage. ^^"
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Enjoy.
Chapter 1:
The Introduction to Stars and Everything Drama
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The sky that night was perfect; the cloudless abyss of velvet scattered with countless gems of all sizes, brightness and even colors on its wealth. Violet eyes couldn't help but stare at all its glory; reminiscing the old times, where that glory was only placed in vivid green emeralds, captured forever in two very unforgiving eyes, never to be forgot. It was becoming that time of year where one would find the northern lights to be coming out, the streaming energy that came from the power spurts of the sun, and the sun alone, grinding against the atmosphere and making beautiful sparks.
"God be damned, it's beautiful out tonight," Hidan murmured.
"I agree..." the reporter lit himself up a cigarette, the chill from the wind splashing his hair around behind him and sending up a wave of goosebumps on the back of his neck and arms.
Hidan looks over, those same violet eyes reflecting all the stars – exactly the same way they used to when the raven-haired stood somewhere in this deep, dark, cruel world with him – and said, "Are we almost done with this? I've already typed up the interview for you to put it in the magazine."
"If you want to be done; I kind of wanted to watch the stars with you and chat." The reporter shuddered in his jacket, thin strands of hair swaying in front of his eyes as the wind picked up. The end of his cigarette burned a fiery demise on the tobacco and nicotine – and all the other chemicals – inside. He reached up a gloved hand and pulled the cancer stick out from in between his lips, blowing out the smoke. "Chatting isn't that bad, and we haven't had a good conversation for a while – you're a nice guy when you want to be."
"Back at the cabin; I don't want you to catch a cold." Hidan said, turning around, to see the faint glimmer of greens, yellows and blues – even a rare red – behind his abode, about 500 meters away from where they were positioned on the cold ground.
"Ah, I guess so," putting the cigarette back into his mouth, he smiled, "Thank you for the worry, but I'll be fine. I didn't come up here just to grab a script and run with it, I wanted to actually stay for a while, get to know you better."
The meteorologist just sighed, "There would be nothing that would interest anyone but an old friend of mine... And it would probably put you to fucking sleep."
–
As a meteorologist in the 21st century, there were plenty of opportunities to find a place to settle down, and just watch the stars, waiting for that one to just "fly by" and "land right at your feet – a discovery, without trying!"
"Meteorology is easy," Hidan Wehtun, youngest meteorologist to be featured in The Aurora Stars with the most discoveries this year, says, waving a hand nonchalantly in front of his face, "It's just finding it before anyone else can is the hard part. That's why I became one, to just... live happily ever after. Without a love, anyway. My only love is the stars, of course." He laughs, and turns to map out more stars as we sit right underneath them...
"Bauer?" the woman up at the counter smiled at her regular customer. "Your coffee is done."
"Ah," the man addressed as "Bauer" got up from the stylish orange chair. Broad shoulders tucked away under a slim suit, a tie around his tan neck and glasses low on his nose, a rolled magazine being held beneath his arm and a suitcase in the hand below, he reached the counter, already having his cash out – exact change and everything. "Thank you," he said.
"You're very welcome," the girl smiled wider, taking the bills and handing Bauer his coffee. She put the money in the cash register after pushing a few buttons, and then nodded to him. He left, with a nod of his own, out the door.
The busy streets of seven o' clock AM in Phoenix, Arizona almost overwhelm poor Bauer. Yet, they welcome him with warm muffler-induced- or McDonald's-bag-pollution and the usual smell of cigarettes on each corner, outside each restaurant, or just floating in the air around the city. He walked down the sidewalk toward his workplace, where the elevators played elevatorized versions of God Gave Rock n' Roll to You and Bad Romance; where the lunch breaks were a rarity; where he would stay – reading his magazine or a book, writing in his accounting books, or playing Solitaire on his computer – for the next nine and a half hours.
Bauer sighed, taking a sip of his coffee as he figured the day was going to be another long, boring one, unlike the days of high school. Drama – oh, the drama – and teenage pregnancies galore. Not like he missed the pregnancies, or the drama, just the gist of it all, the very core of it. Where the pot heads and the honor roll students came to meet; where the drama queens and the prom kings came down from their thrones to be like everyone else and to hate the Joker who dared disobeyed their commandments, and threw him into the molten center of their giant cauldron of love, cigarettes, booze and dead, aborted fetuses from accidental pregnancies.
Said "gist," said "core" – said "Joker" – was a masochist (slash pot head, bassist, fry cook and old "frienemy") by the name of Hidan Wehtun, the star-obsessed, albino meteorologist.
Oh, just the memories of him made a rod of shivers go through Bauer's aching stomach. Not particularly a bad feeling, since having stayed with the masochist provided many ways to find out what your insides look like; always having some morphine (if you could get your hands on it at the time) or ibuprofen by his side, in his pocket – maybe even a plastic bag when he was feeling a bit on the hygienic side – was a good idea when around Wehtun.
But when Wehtun was in one of those moods, those moods where he was just relaxing – not high, not in pain, not bleeding – it was bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Memories were never enough to enjoy the full experience, but to Bauer, it was just enough remembrance of Hidan to fulfill the memory's purpose. Boredom, until lunch, was gone.
–
"Oh, Kakuzu, you're always so healthy and strong," he always teased, clinging to Kakuzu's arm and making the whole conversation - or whatever the two were having at the time (i.e., lunch, studying, etc.) - very awkward; and for some reason, the taller always felt inferior to him. He knew he really wasn't. He wasn't on the basketball team, was he? He wasn't on any sport. He never worked out, but he was just a tough and quick little bugger for running away from the cops. All the dark sweatshirts really helped him to blend in so they couldn't figure out who it was. "If you're ever accused for anything by the cops, or you're in the middle of a bust, always put your hood up and run for your fucking life. Jail will mess you up, man..." he remembered Hidan telling him that when the latter was smoking a joint out his window. The smell wasn't too bad, and he looked... nostalgic, almost.
"Kakuzu?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
"..."
"Do you love me, too?"
"Yes, Hidan. Very much."
–
"No, look at me, I'm telling you, he's trying to be some fucking supermodel with a tight ass, or at least trying to look that way, just to get into your pants. You're not dating that stupid red head," another sip of another expensive wine, and Wehtun spit it out into the bucket, "This one's too thin. I want something rich and thick..."
"He is not trying to get into my pants, Hee-don... My pants are too tight for him to get in anyway," the blonde snorted, drinking his wine, not spitting it out into the bucket, "I think it's quite good, hmm."
"You mean the wine, or that that Sasori kid is trying to get into your pants? What is he, 16? 14? 9? Ya' going for the kiddies now, Dee-dur-ah?" Hidan laughed a bit too loudly, but the blonde didn't seem to mind, nor did the emptiness of the rest of the house.
"Stop pronouncing my name wrong, prick! Hmm!"
"Stop pronouncing mine wrong!"
They laughed, and then settled into the couch under a blanket. Quiet filled the house as they sorted through movies they wanted to watch, and then put them out in order form mediocre (since all of the movies they liked, none of them were really "bad" in their eyes) to greatest. Hidan got up, put the movie in, and sat back down next to Deidara.
"I'm glad you're my friend, hmm," Deidara murmured, resting his head on Hidan's shoulders once his arm pulled around him in a friendly gesture.
"I'm glad you're fucking mine. Seriously, what would I do without you?" Hidan chuckled, "You give me the fucking entertainment that I need. I can't just sit around and watch movies and read all day long by myself, now can I?" No internet or network tower was in the area (yet), so that meant no Facebook, Myspace, cable, or cellphone use. It was the perfect getaway from all things technology.
Deidara sat after a few laughs with Hidan, and then gasped.
"What?" Hidan cried, startled by his friend's sudden reaction (to something, he was sure).
"We..." the blonde smiled.
"If you're going to suggest blowing something up, I'll hit you."
"No!" Deidara snapped, looking serious, "Do you still have Bauer's number?"
The grin was contagious. The awed look on Hidan's face turned when his friend's brilliant idea soaked into his fragile and gel-like brain.
Drunks. What fun?
Hidan recited the number from memory – after all these years, Deidara would have thought that Hidan had forgotten it – and then they both sprang out of their seats, over the back of the couch to the phone, where they dialed the number from the distant place Kakuzu probably had never thought about until his phone rang. Arizona was a long way away, but free long distance from Canada was "fucking awesome." And Hidan only wanted to chat.
"Oooh, this is so exciting, hmm," Deidara giggled.
"Hopefully he'll still have his..."
"Hello?" sounded the electronicly-curious tone, owned by no other body or soul, Kakuzu Bauer.
"...fucking cell – HEY!" Hidan said with a loud start, turning toward the window, "Dude, guess who it is."
Back at the Bauer residence, eyes widened, and then a headache immediately started to form. "Hidan?"
"Dude, how'd you guess? Seriously, I thought all that 'growing up' we were talking about at graduation changed my voice even a little over all these fucking years. Oh, but it might have been the swearing... dude, sorry about that, if it still pisses you off. It's kind of more of a habit that a speech impediment, like Deidara has."
Headache grow. They start out with weeds – which are problems, in this case – then they turn into brambles (here is where the actual headache begins), then they turn into small trees that won't give up the inconvenient (for you) spot in the middle of your yard where you want to place a garden; after this, they grew into bigger and bigger trees, and spawned more and more times, until soon it became a forest of nasty, wicked trees that towered over you with their branches that looked like they were dying.
All because you didn't pick some weeds.
"Oh, I didn't notice. Why are you calling me?" Kakuzu asked.
"Well... To tell you the truth, I have no fucking clue."
"... Let me guess... You're – !"
"Drunk? Oh fucking yeah. I just bought some of this wine from Paris, and Deidara wanted to see if any of them tasted good, because he's planning on date raping this 9-16 year old child that has red hair, and looks like he's gonna poison your fucking drink or something – !"
"He really doesn't look that way, Kakuzu, hmm!" Deidara sounded distantly in the background.
"Fucking lies. He really looks that way."
Kakuzu could already tell this would be one Hell of a night.
–
Two hours past by. It was 12:30 in the morning. Kakuzu was holding the bridge of his nose, listen to Hidan blather on. About an hour ago, the two of them (Hidan and Deidara) switched off for Hidan to use the bathroom, but when he came back, Deidara was in the middle of a (long-ass) story about his past relationships up in the backwater version of Canada (apparently, they lived there together) that consisted of "Minnesota-nice" people and total douches.
Hidan, now was talking about how he saw this one chick in a Walmart, and when he walked by, he "totally slapped that ass in front of the chick's boyfriend." What a Hidan-type move. Kakuzu was tempted to pick up a magazine to read and "mhmm," "yup," and "sure" back to them/him when needed, but he was too tired to go look for one, and the only type he had in the house was the one with Hidan (the famous meteorologist that he was) in it. He'd had enough of Hidan in two hours. He didn't need to read more on him, what he liked, where he lived, what his hobbies were, how many fangirls he had, and how he found out what meteor belonged to where (if he could at all).
Kakuzu sighed, "Hidan..."
"Maybe you should come visit!" Hidan sounded like he was beaming. "I could get you your plane ticket in everything, since you're so fucking stingy about paying for 'useless shit' like a plane ticket to Canada to come see your old pal Hidan!" Hidan bitched a bit longer, but Kakuzu kept his mind on the visiting part.
"What part of Canada do you live in?" Kakuzu asked. If he lived somewhere close to Alaska, he could go visit his parents. He missed his parents. They had a nice yacht he could stay on for a week or two if he was too fed up with Hidan. Use those vacation hours.
"Uhh..." Hidan waited a moment; Kakuzu remembered he was drunk, so he gave his "old pal" a second. "The Territories, why?"
"You just suggested that I come up to visit...?" The Northwest Territories of Canada, close enough and far enough away from home. He did hate the cold, though. He'd have to pack for cold weather.
"Oh, right. Well, dude, you totally fucking can. How long do you plan to stay?"
"I have about a month or so for vacation at work. How long can I stay?"
"How long do you want to stay?"
Kakuzu smirked, though the headache was still egging his mood to a negative level; "Stop answering my questions with more questions, you little bitch," was his cold, hard reply. He was good at hiding the satisfaction in his voice, "How long are you willing to let me stay?"
"However long you like, dear sir. But it's about 1:45 in the morning, so we should be heading off to bed... Deidara, stop touching me like that – I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT, BASTARD!"
"Good night, Kakuzu, hmm!" Deidara chirped in the background.
"Say good night to Deidara!" Hidan insisted, handing off the phone to the blonde.
Kakuzu sighed, "Good night, Deidara."
"YAY! Hmm, see you upstairs, Hidan!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Hidan chuckled.
Kakuzu waited for his words. It was an awkward silence, to say the least. So many years without a word, an email, a letter, a text, a private message on Facebook. Nothing. Kakuzu didn't even know if he had Hidan as a friend on his Facebook.
"I should be heading to bed," Kakuzu said, trying to ignore his thoughts of Facebook and wordless conversations of old (back in high school, old).
"Oh... Okay. Yeah, me too, man. I'll call you again tomorrow night so we can fucking arrange this whole visit. It'll be fucking fantastic, man. It's so beautiful up here at night. You wouldn't believe the sights. There are so many colors. Pinks and blues and greens and yellows – reds and violets and oranges... agh..." Hidan seemed to be out of breath. Maybe from the winded explanation of the skies.
Kakuzu knew better.
"Stop jacking off," Kakuzu said easily.
"Fuck. You still know me too well for my own damn good."
"Always will."
"Always?"
"Always."
"... I should've called years ago."
Kakuzu sat for a second, thoughts in mind, left hand in right, and nodded; "Yeah. You should've."
"Anyway... It's time for me to hit the fucking hay after putting these bottles away. Want to stay up just a little longer so I don't have to put them away alone?"
Since he'd stayed up this long, he said "Sure" and shrugged to himself. Another 15 minutes wouldn't hurt. Though, he felt like a couple doing this with Hidan. Not wanting to hang up, and making excuses to not. Kakuzu couldn't hear any clicking of glass-on-glass, or sink water running through the bottles to make sure they were clean before they were put into a bag, recycling or trash. Hidan just wanted to stay on the phone longer, out of pure drunken want.
"... Yeah. Time for me to sleep. I'm fallin' asleep on my feet," Hidan yawned.
Kakuzu yawned as well, and then agreed, "Yeah. Me too. I'll talk to you sometime 'round tomorrow night. Not this late though. I get off at 6."
"I'll call at 8."
"Sounds good."
"Yup."
"Night, Wehtun."
"Night, Bauer."
Click.