The Dirt and Snow

She slapped me in the face and told me that chivalry was dead. People were staring, and my face was flushing. A chill blew over me as she turned on her heel, boots sloshing through the dirty city snow, flipping her dark hair in my face like a whip.

"Rin!"

I called behind her, slipping clumsily on the ice as I chased the black haired beauty across a crowded sidewalk. She didn't stop, or show any sign that she'd heard me, but I knew if I let her go, she'd have another guy within the next week. Part of me argued that I should let her. Really, she may have been the hottest girl I'd ever date (really, have you ever seen a girl with bigger boobs?), but she treated me like shit.

"Haru, stop."

She snapped, and glared at me over her shoulder.

"You're ridiculous, and I'm tired of it. Either throw out all those ugly black clothes like I asked you, or we're over!"

and that's how I became a single man for the first time in eight months.

"She asked you to drop your black clothes on Black Friday?"

Kyo, my roomate (if you could call our shitty little dorm a room), laughed. I punched him in the shoulder.

"Seriously dude, you should have just told her you were dressing for the occasion!"

I punched him again, right in his stupid, red-sweater-clad arm. His mother had passed away when he was a child (but he said she'd always been a bitch), so I guess no one had ever taught him that red clashes if you have neon orange hair.

"..you look like such a fag in that sweater, you know."

He gave me a look, but it soon turned into a smile, and he laughed.

"I know," he drew out. "When I saw it in Buttsex Republic, I knew it would really highlight my gayness."

Kyo had been openly homosexual for around three years, before we'd even met. His foster father was surprisingly okay with it, and even let him bring a few boyfriends home on holidays. I'd never met the guy, but according to his foster child, he was the coolest man alive.

"So, without your bitchy-whore girlfriend in the picture, whomever will you kiss under the mistletoe, cuddle with by the fire-" He gasped loudly, putting a hand over his mouth in comic fashion, "Who will you possibly spend at least one-hundred dollars on for Christmas, or you won't get any until the next year?!"

I tried to glare, but laughter cracked through.

"Shut the hell up, Kyo."

He smiled, and his red-brown eyes twinkled in the dim light. Supposedly, the strange colors of his hair and eyes were because of a birth defect (or, as he said, his mother drinking like a fish while pregnant), and those strange defects were the reason for her suicide and his father never wanting him around. He said he was lucky that a rich guy like his foster dad took him in, because his medication (heart and lung problems are another effect of the mother drinking while pregnant) would cost too much for a regular person.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Realizing suddenly that I was practically drooling at him, I snapped my gaze away, face blushing bright red, like the color of his stupid sweater. Kyo had always seemed to offer a different lifestyle, and honestly, he lived it so well that I was tempted to join him.

"You okay, cowboy?"

Cowboy, because of my black and white hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I lied.

"Just need to step out for a bit."

I was halfway out the door, one arm slipping through my coat sleeve, when he spoke up, voice void of any embarrassment, as if the previous moment had never happened. So carefree, dammit, how did he do it?

"You wanna bring the cigs with you?"

He didn't smoke cigarettes (only pot, if the mood struck), but since I bought the groceries, he agreed to "gank my drugs", as he put it. Which, for my part, was conveinent, since, being only twenty, I couldn't buy alcohol.

"Sure."

I choked, but he didn't toss them to me as I'd expected.

One thin, tanned hand held the box out to me, a small smile gracing his lips.

I walked the three-feet-or-so across the room, reaching out slowly to grab the box. My heart raced as my fingers brushed his, and my face was warming quickly. Faster than I could react, he grabbed my hand, pulled me forward, and crushed his soft warm lips into my own. His hand brushed my shoulder, then my cheek, as the other held firm on my arm. Time froze, and I closed my eyes, but before I knew it, it was over.

"I think your black clothes are sexy. Don't ever throw them out."

He whispered slyly, slipping the cigarettes into my pocket, then rising from his chair, leaving the dorm room without another word.

My breathing was heavy.

My pulse wasn't slowing anytime soon.

I touched my lips with shaking hands, turning to stare at the door he'd just closed.

'Screw Rin.'

I told myself.

Kyo's lifestyle had finally pulled me in.

Sleet fell gently outside my window, as the sky became dark, and the streetlights turned on.

and really, I wasn't about to complain.

fin.

--

Think.. frat boys meet the wonderful world of slash.

I don't drink or smoke pot, but I have a lot of friends who do, and they're open with it, but not so in-your-face. That's kind of what I was trying to portray. The kiss reminded me of my first, because I totally wasn't expecting it, and he just kind of.. grabbed me and pulled me into it. (awkward, just because we were both sweaty messes, standing in the area of Target where a woman got stabbed, with his best friend right around the corner.)

Anywho, if you noticed, the setup of the story is more like that of a book. I'm quite proud of it.

I. Want. Coffee. UGH.