My first fic as UnMauvaisReve. Hurray, because this is a record -I started it over the summer and just finished it now. How sad is that? Haha, you guys probably aren't reading this anyways! Love you all and please enjoy this dribble if you can...
--oh, and I don't own Cherry Juice -if I did I'd kill myself, haha!
The Darker Sweets
In the quaint apartment of the Hasaki siblings, on the third floor of a lovely building in Tokyo, a bachelor party was being held. Ten men -wearing yukata, smoking, drinking, eating, watching porn, and playing poker- occupied the living room and guest bedroom with complete disregard for their surroundings, the host, and the lanky young man who slumped on the kitchen table with a cup of sake in his hand.
He sat alone. Except for the bottle, which he dimly focused on mostly because it was directly in front of him, and partially because he had lost his glasses and T-shirt in a game of strip poker. How he had gotten out of a game like that he'll never know. What he does know, however, is that he's hungry and perhaps he should stop sucking down alcohol like it is water because apparently that's damaging his short-term memory.
What a sad, pathetic picture, really, to be painted in exactly one hundred and forty-eight words…pitiful, laughable and truer than most things that Amane has seen or heard. But that's life, right? It gives you a bit of what you want –a promising engagement, boisterous friends, a bit of something to help you forget- and then it slaps you in the face with all the things you don't have.
Amane does not have any of the things that were just mentioned.
He has a girlfriend; it's Naru-chan, in fact. She is kind, beautiful, and clever; with virtues, brains, a heart, and a soul so perfectly in synch with his own that they'd be one person if only she'd have sex with him. (And that's the one thought that doesn't match –she shuns premarital relations.)
He has friends. Well, a friend, actually, and (will you look at that) it's Naru-chan again.
Oh, and about that something that helps you forget? Amane has sake, but it's not helping him erase the memories that he wants let go of the most. Until last Thursday those memories were nowhere to be seen, his mind wiped clean, but the Hasaki siblings have to get married and Naru just has to be a bridesmaid…and Minami has to come to him shyly and politely inquire if he would be a groomsman…and Amane has to say a fucking 'yes'.
Yes, the moment that word leaves his lips he remembers the days when he turned a blind eye to the love that was so obvious between his ex-best friend and girlfriend. He remembers kissing her anyways, even after she kept lying and stood him up on several occasions while dragging Minami along on their dates because she wanted 'the three of them to always be together'. That's a load of crap that Amane just happened to believe back in high school, but he had managed to forget it too, until last week.
Now all Amane can think of is revenge –but he's too drunk and hungry to care.
Slipping sideways off of his chair in a way that would lead people to think he was sober, Amane stood, stretched, and walked calmly to raid the cabinets beside the dishwasher. He had always been able to hold his liquor well (to some extent) and he vaguely recalled watching Minami pulling crackers out of this pantry at the beginning of the party.
Amane sifted through the contents of the first shelf and found several boxes of dry foods like the aforementioned crackers, cereal, and uncooked noodles. He looked at them and thought…too bland. Amane moved down one shelf and realized that all that was there were baking supplies; obviously not good for plain eating. He crouched to peer at the last shelf and found a plethora of candy and syrups. Perhaps this was part of the cooking ingredients too, but, unlike the rest, you could probably eat it.
Apathetically, Amane grabbed a couple of bags without reading the labels and plopped them on the counter. Then, out of inbred courtesy, he gently shut the cupboard before inspecting his finds; a half empty (or half full) package of butterscotch chips and an unopened bag of semisweet chocolate, which also happened to be in the darling, bite-sized 'chip' form.
Not wanting to seem rude (but why should he care about manners anyways), the young man dug his hand into the open bag first and pulled out a few of the tiny candies. They rolled around in his palm; mocking him with their smooth, mellow orange hue –the same color as Otome's long, silken hair. Slightly annoyed, he put them back.
It made him angry (sick and itchy all over) just thinking about that stupid girl who was now a stupid woman who was marrying her stupid stepbrother. True, it wasn't incest to the slightest degree, but generally, when growing up in that sibling sort of role, you don't feel like kissing and fucking and (for God's sake) marrying your brother!
Rage bubbling hotly beneath the surface of his skin, Amane snatched the untouched dark chocolate and tore the top of the bag open neatly. Butterscotch was a sweet and soft flavor –this was strong, bitter, biting…better.
"Uh… You know there's snacks out on the dining room table."
Well, well, to speak of that damned metaphorical devil. Minami, of all people, gazed at him from the kitchen door with one eyebrow raised quizzically.
Amane paused, rolling a piece of the chocolate between his forefinger and thumb. "So?"
"Crackers and crab dip would probably taste better with sake." The host stated, taking a slow step forward onto the cool blue linoleum floor. "I'd imagine that sweets would make you quite sick."
"Really…" Amane mused breathily, pressing the chip against his lips in thought. Heh, like this could actually make him feel worse than he already did…but what is this?
The dark-haired man smirked upon noticing that Minami's ears were red and his deep golden eyes were fixed on the tiny dark chocolate that lay upon his lips. Could it be that Minami had found the time to get plastered enough to indulge in his (fairly typical) homosexual tendencies?
Tongue flicking out quickly, Amane tipped the chocolate into his mouth, revenge back on his mind again. Just how wonderful would it be for the groom to cheat on the bride (with another guy) barely a week before the wedding? Sweeter than cherries, no doubt.
Minami took another step, shrugging a little. "If you wanted something sugary you could have asked me. I have some blackberries that might stay down."
Amane said nothing, watching attentively as the other young man walked over to the fridge and opened it, stooping to search for the berries in the crisper. Moments later, he straightened up, a bowl of the black fruit in his hands. He shut the refrigerator and turned around, grinning idiotically.
"Personally, I think they taste good with wine or honey laced beer." Minami babbled, placing the bowl behind Amane on the counter, next to the bag of vile butterscotch chips. "What do you like them with?"
"I don't know. I've never tried them." Amane replied truthfully. As a child, he didn't like raspberries because of the seeds and, therefore, hadn't been enthused enough to eat a blackberry (which looked an awful lot like a raspberry).
The blond man beside him put on an expression of mock pity. "Poor boy, you haven't lived!"
Delicately, Minami plucked a berry from the pile slipped it between his gleaming white teeth. He chewed quietly, swallowed and reached for another. It was plump, swelled with juice, and dark purple –he held the fruit up and offered it to Amane with an innocent smile.
"Try it," He chirped.
Without a word, the dark-haired young man dipped his head down and accepted the blackberry, warm mouth brushing Minami's slender fingers roughly. It wasn't on purpose (originally), but the alcohol was making him lazy and thoughts were becoming reality after all so…
"Why are you staring at me?" Amane mumbled accusingly, the tart fruit bursting on his incisors and coating the inside of his cheeks thickly. Immediately, he realized that he didn't really enjoy the taste.
Indeed, Minami was gawking at him, transfixed, with the crimson glow of his ears spreading onto his face rapidly. "Y-You…"
The blush deepened considerably as the groom-to-be abruptly lurched forward, hands pressing on either side of Amane's head, and dragged his hot (hot hot) tongue over the corner of the other man's lips. He pulled away instantaneously (Minami that is).
"You had juice," He explained softly, gesturing towards his own mouth vaguely. "...dribbling by there."
"A napkin would have sufficed." Amane deadpanned, marveling at how he managed to sound so disinterested when (inside) he was a quivering mess. Well, that had been unexpected.
Minami responded to the statement by becoming even more flustered then he had been before (with blood rouge and all). He stuttered, ochre irises sweeping over the other young man noticeably. "I-I'm sorry, I-"
"Can't think straight? Am very drunk? Or perhaps it's a bit of both, you think?" The more Amane spoke, the more he realized…he sounded astringent and wrathful (which is the truth, actually).
"Y-You don't have a shirt."
"Excellent observation," was the caustic retort, "What's that got to do with anything?"
Once the words flew out, Amane had the indistinct notion that perhaps Minami was feeling some hazy sort of arousal. Ironically enough, his passing thought was spot on…but it just so happens that his mind was wiped blank from the moment the host of this bachelor party pitched towards him again and brought their lips together as a remedy to the sarcasm.
The action was so spontaneous that it easily became intoxicating, because any thoughts, all thoughts, were in Amane's head one second and gone the next. Angry feelings, random strings of words, interjections, whole sentences –gone, obliterated. Of course, it was thanks to Minami and his burning quick tongue, which (for what seemed like an eternity) had moved from the brunette's mouth and lips to his neck.
His neck…Oh god, it took all he had not to squirm with delight and even then his chest heaved painfully, breathes coming in short gasps as his former best friend practically devoured him.
"W-what…are...huh, are you…?" Amane managed to huff out the inquiry as soon as Minami dropped to his knees, hands and tongue trailing down the other man's sides and stomach.
The blonde host left off with an oddly tender kiss to Amane's belly button and looked up at him with a soft smile. "You taste very good."
"Oh…" What a stupid reason.
Minami continued to talk as he started fiddling with the belt buckle in front of him.
"It sounds weird, but it's true," The buckle clinked, becoming undone. "Amane-kun has a taste –like blackberries," The button on the jeans came next.
Amane struggled to catch his breath. "Th-that's…because…I just…a-ate one…"
Cheerful, slightly hazed golden irises flickered up to his face again. Slight fingers slide his zipper down… "And dark chocolate."
______
Because of that quaint apartment scene of exactly one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven words Amane never did catch his breath…and the Hasaki siblings had to wait quite a bit longer to get married. At least -when they did- the lonely, lanky young man did not have to attend.
Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année...
