Title: You Always Make Me Smile
Pairing: Shigure X O.C.
Rating: T for Teen (For Cussing and Homoerotic Relations Between Two Males)
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Word Count: 675 Words (4022 Characters)
Beta'd?: Nope.
Summary: He could go on forever about how great his uncle was, or how much he adored (although, everyone in the Sohma family knew he felt much more than admiration towards the man- everyone but the man in question and the boy himself) the dog- that is, if anyone permitted him to. Which they didn't.
A/N: Ugh. I hate prologues, but, it wouldn't make any sense if I didn't include it. Or, maybe it would. Just not for me. I'm slow. Plus, I've already written this, and I didn't want it to be for nothing. There's hardly any ShigureXOC stories, and if they are, then it's straight. What ever happened to the rabid yaoi fans? Huh? Seriously? Nothing? The series is full of nothing but insanely handsome men.
That said, I hope you enjoy. It's not the best, but, I haven't wrote/written (Grammar! It gets confusing sometimes.) in forever- or, atleast, a few months.
Prologue
The browning leaves rustled in the light autumn breeze, the tree limbs swaying gently. Sunlight shown from behind the leaves, dim and faint as it grew darker. Twigs and dry grass crunched and snapped under two sets of heavy footsteps.
"I'll be picking you up before the end of the week," the unsettling silence had been broken, if only for a moment, by a brunet man with broad shoulders. The two remained shrouded in silence minutes afterward, the younger (who looked to be way younger than he really was) took in a sharp inhale of the fresh, open air, tilting his head backward as the slight wind blew through his white locks. He trudged onwards, refusing to pick his feet up. The older man snarled, mumbling to himself about how childish (in the boy's defense, he was hardly thirteen, having turned only days before) his actions were. The white-haired boy shrugged it off, relishing in the rare bit of nature he was exposed to.
"Shigure will be busy this week. He's to finish his manuscript, which means you must refrain from disrupting him," the man said monotonously, fixing the glasses that had sat crooked on the bridge of his nose. He'd yet to know why he still tried with the boy. One quick glance to the side confirmed that he had lost the daft boy at the mere mention of the equally daft author.
The boy practically swooned as his thoughts filled with fluff memories of the black-haired man- of them together watching the New Year special, seated under the warm kotatsu, himself dazing off as he rested his head against the elder's shoulder; of them huddled next to eachother, thick blanket covering them, engulfing their bodies, as they waited in child-like anticipation (and unnecessary fear from the boy) for a bleak storm to pass.
He could go on forever about how great his uncle was, or how much he adored (although, everyone in the Sohma family knew he felt much more than admiration towards the man- everyone but the man in question and the boy himself) the dog- that is, if anyone permitted him to. Which they didn't.
'Two daft idiots, indeed,' Ryouto hummed to himself as he looked to the boy once again, who visibly struggling to walk as his limbs turned to jelly. He leaned down to an almost level height to the boy, offering his forearm as support, the corners of his mouth curling into a meek smile. The boy took him up on his offer, gingerly, placing his hands on his arm to steady himself.
"I-I'm sorry, Ryou-ue. Thank you," Kazuma whispered, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. The brunet found himself gaping softly at the timid expression that crossed the boy's face- pure innocence. He himself felt his cheeks heat up considerably as he turned his head the other way to hide his blush.
'Damn you, Shigure! You lucky bastard.'
The boy continued, "I promise I won't disturb Shigure-ue. Should I clean the house up a bit for him?"
"Mmm... Possibly," the response was delayed, the foreign tone of jealousy grazing his tongue.
"Ah!" Kazu exclaimed, stopping in his tracks, pulling Ryouto from his nostalgia.
"Yes-" he answered his own question as he lifted his head.
The manour was, as always, absolutely stunning. The wood was pristine and polished, the rice doors new, inviting.
And (to the brunet's dismay and boy's satisfaction) a smiling Shigure dressed in his usual attire- a slightly disarray kimono- waving like a maniac. "Welcome Ryouto-nii, Zuma-chan!" he called happily from the porch.
His smile was infectious, to say the least. The albino was smiling wildly, his mood doing a one-eighty. He took off in a rush toward the man with the black hair, "Shigure-ue!"
The brunet narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows, glancing daggers at the dog. His hands balled at his sides, and he clenched them, mouthing, 'Don't touch him. I'll be back,' before turning and taking his leave, back to the family car parked not far from where they were.