I can't believe I started a fic based on real life events. I also can't believe that I'm using actual dialogue from an actual conversation in my actual life oh my god pinch me.
I do not own Free! or any of the characters in it.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Shit."
Nanase Haruka glanced nervously around the crowded cafeteria before resuming his staring contest with the mutilated chunk of bagel currently trapped in the depths of the toaster's conveyor belt, threatening to catch fire at any moment.
It was his third disaster that day.
"Shit," he muttered again, voice barely loud enough for anyone else to hear. As crowded as the cafeteria was that particular morning, the masses of people seemed to fan out from where Haru was standing, leaving him in his own little bubble of space, as if naturally repelled by the toaster's menace. The others had instincts that evidently, Haru lacked, as they had opted for the domestic eggs and bacon instead of tangling with the wild-card, centuries-old toaster to produce some crispy bread product that turned out shitty at best. Or, in Haru's case, engulfed in flames and sending the whole building into blinding turmoil.
Haru bent over to peer deeper into the toaster's mouth, glowing orange metal smouldering white bread. The friction between the top of the bagel and the top of the toasting compartment was clearly visible, and small sparks leaped out from the contact. Haru backed away, flinching, when a larger spark flew out at him. He had been standing too close, as if the toaster was slowly pulling him in, too, and he hadn't even realized it.
"Oh, that toaster can take pretty long, huh?"
Eyes widening, Haru stole a glance to his left, gaze slipping through strands of silky black hair. He was supposed to have gotten a haircut earlier that week, as his bangs had grown obscenely long, but the length came in useful in many situations, similar to the one he was in right then. The speaker was tall-very tall-and had scruffy brown hair that stood in contrast to his smart, dark, pressed suit. He was wearing rectangular glasses a shade darker than his hair, and was offering Haru a friendly smile as he snatched a banana from a fruit basket.
He gestured to the toaster and chuckled. "It'll come out eventually. There's no need to look so worried."
Haru froze, his throat suddenly constricting so tightly that it burned. Should I…? He flicked his eyes back to the toaster before swishing his hair aside and facing the speaker dead-on. I can do this.
"My bagel is… stuck."
A hot blush quickly spread over his features and he bowed his head to hide it. What was some stranger going to do about his bagel? How was that their problem? When the stranger laughed again, Haru was sure he was laughing at him. Of course he looked like an idiot for getting a bagel stuck in the fucking toaster.
"Well, let me see if I can help you out," the stranger offered, voice sparkling and ringing in the most welcoming way. His voice soothed a bit of Haru's gnawing anxiety-something Haru had never experienced, especially from someone he didn't even know. Suddenly, the stranger's body had intercepted Haru's and the toaster, and he swiftly extracted the bagel with a pair of tongs, the bread barely even charred.
"Here you go," he chirped, snatching a plate and depositing the bagel on top. He flashed Haru another dazzling smile, to which Haru could respond with nothing but a strangled "thank you".
"My pleasure," the stranger replied, brushing a few crumbs off the pleats of his pants. "I was happy to help." With another effortless beam, the stranger was on his way out of the cafeteria and away from Haru, leaving the dark-haired man and his bagel behind. After a few moments of staring intently at the space that his knight in shining business attire had occupied seconds before, Haru darted out a finger to gauge the bread's heat.
It was barely warm.
Make that four disasters today, Haru noted to himself, picking up the bagel and taking a bite. His face immediately crinkled at the dry, bland taste, and he wished it would turn into fish. He grabbed his books from the corner of the counter and took off towards his first class at a brisk pace, dropping the bagel in the trash on his way. As bad as his breakfast was, it was still better than a smoking cafeteria, so Haru didn't have much of an excuse to be irritated. Three disasters in, he was irritable at best, but one thing kept him from showing it.
That smile. That beautiful, wonderful, miraculous smile that had saved him from a fate worse than death: standing in the middle of the cafeteria, all eyes on him, bagel flaming and alarms sounding because his roommate had woken him up by drunkenly kissing him at 3 a.m., forcing him to sleep on a bench outside for the rest of the night and get shit on by a bird, and was too damn pissed off to toast his bread properly. That smile could cure cancer, for all Haru knew.
He only wished he could see it again.
Disaster number five was sitting next to Nagisa in biology.
It didn't seem like a bad idea at the time, considering Haru was late and taking the empty seat next to his one friend in the class seemed the best possible way to discretely slip into the lecture hall. However, as the professor droned on about protein synthesis, Nagisa droned on about the events of his weekend. Well, "droned" probably wasn't the best word-more like "excitedly described with hand gestures and sound effects".
"And then Rei-chan," Nagisa whispered, wiggling his eyebrows for impact, "he just let out this moan-"
"Nagisa!" Haru hissed, kicking his friend under their seats. He was already gripping his pencil so tightly that he was sure if Nagisa recounted a single other event from his torrid night of lovemaking, the utensil would snap in half. "Shut. Up."
"Aww, Haru-chan," Nagisa whined, pouting his lips and rubbing his leg where Haruka's foot had smacked it. "That's not nice…"
Haru huffed and ignored him, turning back to the lecture to take notes. He was able to copy for a few moments in peace, but soon became aware of a familiar presence leaning over his shoulder. Bracing himself for the worst, Haru spared a glance to the side. Puppy-dog eyes frowned beneath blond curls as they examined his paper.
"Haru-chaaaaan. Since when do you take notes?"
"Since I decided to do something with my life other than my boyfriend of two weeks." The words came out through gritted teeth, and in the moment, Haru was immensely thankful for the massive size of the room so no one could hear them.
Nagisa giggled and playfully nudged Haru's shoulder. "Come on, Haru-chan! Like you would never kiss and tell…" Nagisa eyed him knowingly, and Haru nearly choked on his own saliva. Suppressed memories of a sloppy tongue and alcohol resurfaced in his mind, and they were nearly as unpleasant as the real thing. Goddamn you, Nagisa…
"So it is true!" Nagisa exclaimed, satisfaction creeping over his features. A bit of darkness played in his eyes-a darkness Haru knew all too well, and feared. "I was wondering if Rin was just acting crazy…"
Rin? Make that six disasters. "Sousuke?" Haru whispered, voice curling up at the end in a nervous trill. "Sousuke told Rin?"
Nagisa nodded, looking a bit too smug for Haru's taste. "Yep! I was really surprised, especially because they're so bad at communicating with each other. I guess they pulled through this morning, though.
"It'll be an awkward lunch today for sure," he added offhandedly.
Haru gaped at his fair-haired friend, wondering how he could look so delighted at the suffering of others, and by association, himself as well. The tension after the "incident" had been great enough to drive Haru out of his own room for the night, so why was Nagisa running towards it with open arms? Haru shuddered.
"You know," Nagisa continued, "my Rei-chan would never do something like that to me…" He trailed off, dissolving into a series of rambles about "Rei-chan" this and "Rei-chan" that. At that point, Haru had completely abandoned his notes, tuning out his seat-mate and lecturer both. He rested an elbow on the desk and cradled his head in his hand, sighing. A glance at the clock revealed that it was only 10:05.
He dreaded what the remaining thirteen hours and fifty-five minutes of the day held in store for him.
"You son of a bitch," Rin snarled as he grabbed the collar of his boyfriend's (Haru wasn't quite sure if that was still the case) shirt. "Are you fucking blind or something?"
The taller male yanked Rin's hand away and pressed him back. "I told you, it was dark. And you and Nanase kind of look the same under the sheets."
That was evidently the wrong thing to say, as Rin's crimson eyes burned even more intensely, as if willing Sousuke to be reduced to a pile of ashes at his feet. "Haru, come here," Rin demanded, pulling Haru up out of his seat by the wrist. Haru groaned internally at being dragged into the middle of the couple's feud, as if he weren't in deep enough already. Disaster number eight, Haru counted. Seven had been showing up at lunch in the first place.
From the second all of his friends had congregated at their table in the cafeteria, heated arguments had broken out, consisting mostly of Rin calling Sousuke a slutty drunk and Sousuke deflecting the comment in one backhanded way or another. Thankfully, none of the blame for the incident had directly landed on Haru, but he was so built into the discussion that he was becoming symbolic of the incident itself. Somehow, it seemed logical to let the victim suffer for both of them, and Rin and Sousuke could care less how they affected Haru as long as they "beat" the other. Considering how competitive they both were, Haru didn't know how long their fighting would last, and he dreaded the possibility of another night spent on the quad bench.
Positioning Haru beside him, Rin exhaled and slapped his hands down by his sides. "Now, Sousuke, tell me exactly how the hell you mistook Haru for me when you were looking for some drunk hookup last night."
"Rin, I swear…" Sousuke growled, jaw clenching. Despite Haru's current position, neither Rin nor Sousuke were paying him much attention, and he finally decided to quietly take his leave. He made sure to give Nagisa, who was sitting at their abandoned table, stuffing his face and laughing, a proper glaring on his way.
The cafeteria was slightly less crowded than it had been earlier that morning, much to Haru's relief, as he wove through stations and tables to pick up another piece of mackerel. He skimmed over the seating areas as he went, scouting for an empty table to eat his food in peace. Hopefully, his friends were involved enough in their bickering to notice his absence, but even if they did, Haru could barely care. It was their own fault that he was leaving in the first place.
He took his place in line at the buffet, drinking in the scent of freshly grilled fish. He gazed at it longingly, glistening beneath the warm light of the heat lamp, and his mouth watered. The promise of his favorite meal was almost enough to make him forget the disappointing breakfast from that morning.
"I guess you've given up on the toaster, then, huh?"
Haru's skin prickled as he slipped back into the routine action of turning his eyes beneath his bangs just enough to identify the speaker, despite the fact that Haru knew who the speaker was from the second he opened his mouth.
Standing beside him, tray in hand, was his tanned savior from breakfast, green eyes twinkling expectantly over the rims of his glasses. That smile was back-melting him to the bone and making him forget about drunk kissing and bird shit and fights. Haru wondered if it would become a standard happening for this stranger to save him at mealtimes, and he hoped the trend would continue. He also wondered what stroke of luck could bring the man to him twice in one day, especially considering that they had never met before.
"Yeah," he breathed, quickly bowing his head to face the heat lamps, which were surprisingly less blinding than the eyes of his… friend? acquaintance? colleague? It was rare that anyone talked to Haru once, much less twice. The people who had given Haru a second chance before had all ended up being close friends-sticking with him ever since they met-so it was completely understandable when Haru had no idea how to classify this newcomer.
The man laughed, and Haru marveled at how he seemed to be in such an eternally good mood. He glanced at him again, trying not to fall into a full-on stare as a clearly muscled chest undulated beneath his crisp, white button-down. Haru swallowed, wondering how his throat had managed to grow even drier.
"I hope you don't mind my asking," the man started, "but…" Haru's eyes widened when he detected a hint of nervousness in the man's voice. It seemed so out of character, but he barely knew him in the first place, so he guessed he couldn't really call things unusual. "You're Haruka, right?"
The remaining moisture left Haru's throat, leaving him speechless with a sandpaper tongue. He knows who I am? That was a first. Haru had thought he had mastered the ability to slip through the shadows-keeping quiet in and out of class, never drawing attention or making himself known-but apparently, he was wrong.
"Oh," the man continued, slumping into a dejected posture for a split second before resuming his air of easy confidence. "I guess I'll take that as a yes."
Haru stared at the stranger, contemplating whether or not he really was that: a stranger. He squinted his eyes and tried to place a face to a location. He was never good with names, but places came to him a bit more easily-or maybe not. He quickly remembered that he never paid much attention to those around him if they didn't confront him directly. But maybe this person had confronted him directly before... Had they spoken before that morning? Had he forgotten while the other remembered?
Haru was alerted to the sound of grilled fish being plopped on his plate, landing with a delicious "smack". He blinked and diverted his attention from the stranger, realizing just how intensely he had been staring at him for who knew how long. Apparently, he hadn't been staring long enough to make the stranger uncomfortable, as he was staring right back-eyes bright and warm, smile still fresh and not forced in the slightest. Haru shook his head and picked up his tray to head back to the empty table he had selected on his walk over.
"O-Oh, um, Haruka!" A hand clamped down on Haru's shoulder, forcing him to stop. As soon as he turned around, the stranger retracted it, as if he were touching a stove top that had suddenly heated up. He sure has a strong grip, Haru noted as he rolled his shoulder back, his muscles throbbing a bit where the stranger's fingers had been.
Wondering what urgent matter demanded such contact, Haru allowed his head to tilt up, bangs cascading to the side of his face and eyebrows raising in silent question. The stranger was biting his lip, and his brow was furrowed in a way that Haru couldn't describe as anything but adorable. A hot flush crept over his face at the thought, and he quickly willed it away, thinking instead of what horrible question the man was about to ask him, constructing possible answers along his way. As frantic thoughts sped around Haru's head in a dizzying mayhem, the stranger opened his mouth to speak.
"Would you like to have lunch with me?"
So this was mostly an impulse write and a short inspiration break from my (and MufasasPride's) Makoharu fic, "The Flames of Heaven" that has turned into a fucking beast. (Also new chapter out for that one tonight... ^_^ FINALLY). So yeah... hope you enjoyed my word vomit.
OH! PLEASE SEND ME ANY REQUESTS/SUGGESTIONS OF WHAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE ME DO WITH THIS FIC. I'm pretty much open to anything, and the plot is flexible enough that I could probably work most stuff in. I've never really written something so lax before, without months of planning and plot mapping and sweat and tears, so I'm excited to see how this turns out. Thanks!