"What are you doing here?" Ryohei snapped after slamming the door shut behind him. The rain washed some of the blood from Gokudera's face turning it into a pink pool at his feet.
"I didn't know where else to go," Gokudera moaned, crying freely, thinking he could blame the water rushing down his cheeks on the rain. "Some guys jumped me once I stepped out the door. I ran here because after all that I pain I wanted to see your fa—"
"You can't be here!" He shouted.
Gokudera's eyes widened and he stepped back out of shock. He regretted doing that when a violent sting raced up his legs from the pressure.
"Ah!" He cried. "Please help me!"
Ryohei sighed and looked around.
"Let me get my coat. I'll take you to the hospital," Ryohei said before walking into his house as Gokudera sat on the small step outside the door. For the fleeting moments that the door was opened, the injured man could feel the warmth sweep out, grazing against his back, caressing his cheek for a second then the rain felt colder than ever. He could smell dinner cooking and hear the sounds of what a growing family was like.
"Who was it, honey?"
"A neighbor," Ryohei lied. It was his secret lover, but he sure as hell wasn't going to drop that bomb on his wife. "He's having car troubles and helped me out once, so I'm going to give him a ride him to the pharmacy."
"Oh, well, dinner should be ready by the time you get back. Drive safely."
"I will."
"We'll be waiting for you," Hana said, laying a hand on her rotund stomach.
Ryohei smiled. A kiss for their beyond infantile child.
A quick peck on the cheek for his wife. A conversation filled with affection in a home overflowing with it. Gokudera wished he hadn't heard any of it, yet was ecstatic that he had. Yes, he was drained empty from the throbbing that rocked his body with a relentless headache and craving for pain reliever. He was ridden with jealousy that he couldn't be the one in the loving household, kissing Ryohei goodbye, smiling at him without fear of being caught or the guilt of being the "other." But at the same time, he felt that overhearing this sweet dialogue made him a part of it. Just listening to the words wrapped him in a thin, temporary blanket of tenderness which just encouraged the tears to keep pouring the same way the overwhelmed clouds, plump and ripe with their own gray sadness let the rain fall. Fall hard.