"-you can't hide from me forever."
He didn't want to hear that voice. It sounded particularly bland and boring and he tried to let that drown out the compassion he heard intermingling through the syllables of his name. He didn't want to face reality; he wanted to sit here inconspicuously in the closet underneath the clean yukatas and black pants and white shirts that hadn't been worn yet so they didn't have his scent. It was quiet and peaceful and he could just stare at the traditional sliding wooden doors instead of thinking of what he had just done. He heard an exasperated sigh from the room beyond the closet doors and he tightened the grip he had around his legs, his knees digging almost unbearably into his chest. A loud thump resounded as the person in the other room slid to the floor against the wall next to the closet. The closet-dweller's breath hitched a little and he stayed completely still.
"Look, I'm sorry. We can forget it happened if you like. I shouldn't have-well, it wasn't entirely my fault either, it was yours too…oh geez. Can we please talk this over?" The other asked, "And I know you're in the closet, Watanuki." It was weird to hear his voice not so boring and monotone anymore, hearing it caring and slightly nervous was a nice change. Maybe he should do it a little more often and certain people named Watanuki wouldn't get so damn annoyed.
Watanuki reached forward, letting go of the grasp on his legs to slide open one of the doors a little. Doumeki didn't turn to look at him but instead he clenched a fist over his lap. Watanuki opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, laying on his side on the floor, half in the closet and half-out. He let out a sigh of annoyance, "I don't like when you play nice guy. Why can't you demand why I would do that or at least push me away or something?"
Doumeki was silent for a moment. Why did he have to be so goddamn dense? "If you liked something, would you run away from it?" He asked simply and sarcastically and blandly just like normal and it made Watanuki practically seethe with anger.
The other shifted so he was on his back, and he stretched his arms out on the cold wood floor. He was taking a great interest in the ceiling, and Doumeki was trying not to get an eyeful of the pale skin of his lower stomach that flashed out from under Watanuki's shirt as he moved. "Well, no-" Watanuki started, "I guess I didn't think about it that way; didn't think you would like it at least. I kinda didn't think about that one, not that I regret it-"
The last four words were all that it took for Doumeki to decide to interrupt his ramble with something a little more productive. Watanuki made a small noise of surprise as the other's fingers scratched the floor next to his head slightly and Doumeki was in an awkward position as he leaned over him. He rivaled the first kiss to this one, and decided it was much better when he was the one surprised. Lips parted, and tongues clashed; unhurriedly and effortlessly. Watanuki came to the realization that Doumeki tasted like the bentou he'd made earlier for him that day, and Doumeki had good taste in food.
Another hand appeared from somewhere and was moving to unbutton his shirt and Watanuki didn't argue but instead pulled away a little to offer some help, "Can I get out of the closet at least?"
A small scuffle later and he was on his back again, this time on the futon across the room where presumably Doumeki slept. Doumeki chuckled a little, "What's the irony of you coming out of the closet?"
