A/N: Um. Yeah. Well.
This was the fic that had to be written to break the
monster block I've been in. There's nothing like a nice short pseudo-angsty,
waffy, sappy one-shot to get the creative juices flowing.
Anyway, I hope you like it!
Thanks to: AtheneMiranda, as always, for beta-ing and
liking it; syrupjunkie and jkb for saying nice things about me that I don't
deserve (I love you guys); Debra because she's Debra (do I need a
better reason?); and everyone who reviews. Go on, you know you want to...
Shit. I forgot to bring my jacket.
Not that it'd make much difference. That ancient thing couldn't stand up to drizzle, never mind this deluge.
I hunch my shoulders, trying to minimise the area available to get soaked, and walk out into the rain. For a minute I toy with the idea of crossing the road and using the shop-front awnings for shelter, but why bother? Why should I dodge from doorway to doorway, getting wet all the while? No thanks. I'd rather keep some of my dignity. Some birthday, huh?
In the same way that rainclouds gather the second anyone starts a barbecue, everything always seems to go wrong on my birthday.
I guess I should be grateful it isn't worse. I broke my arm on my twelfth birthday, had chickenpox on my thirteenth, lost my grandpa two days before my fourteenth.
Fell in love on my fifteenth.
Got dumped on my sixteenth.
I shake my head, scattering water across the already-flooded pavement. No use dwelling on that.
I remember going to other kids' birthday parties, wondering all the while why they never had their arms in plaster. Birthdays for me were days to dread - it was always a case of 'what's going to happen this year?' I wish I had some half-normal memories to look back on, ones where I wasn't covered in spots or wearing a black tie or carrying my arm in a sling.
Or where I hadn't just told my parents was I was in love with a boy.
The pavement gets another impromptu watering, more vicious this time. I really ought to stop thinking about that.
I never got a surprise party. The one thing I actually wanted and never got. That's why when I was old enough I threw them for everyone. I always loved that breathless moment of anticipation just before everyone jumped out and yelled 'surprise!', the look of shock and disbelief on the face of the recipient. to me it was the best thing in the world - just when you though you'd been forgotten, out jumps everyone you love, proving just how much they really care.
I fumble for the keys as I trudge up the stairs to the apartment I share with Koushiro. I hope he's not entertaining Elinor tonight. Not that I don't like her, but I don't know if I could stand that 'new love' vibe that crackles in the air every time they look at each other.
I had that, once...
I guess I shouldn't begrudge them. Elinor's a beautiful girl, slim and elfin with dark hair and grey eyes, and she and Kou make a great couple. It just hits some deep-buried nerve when I see them curled up on the sofa murmuring to each other. Perhaps because it reminds me of being in his arms, resting my head against his chest, feeling the thrum of his heart and the gentle rhythm of his breathing.
Good. The doormat, whose presence is the universal symbol (not that I've ever used it) for 'I've got company', is absent. I turn the key in the lock and shove the door open, making a mental note to do something about that stiff hinge.
I tramp through to the kitchen after dumping my bag, pour myself an orange juice and slug it down. At least now I'm wet inside as well as out.
I've poured a second and am contemplating adding a warming splash of alcohol when Kou shuffles in.
"Oh, hi, Tai," he murmurs hesitantly, and I shoot a questioning glance at him. I haven't been his friend for over seven years for nothing - I can tell when something's up.
"Happy birthday," he adds, managing a watery smile. I snag a doughnut out of the cupboard, walk over to him and look him over critically.
He squirms. "What?"
I give him my best you-know-you-can't-lie-to-me look. "What's up?"
"Nothing." He looks down at the floor. "OK. Something. Tai...I have something to tell you."
I sigh. I'm stood here in the freezing cold kitchen, still dripping from the downpour, and Kou wants to tell me something? However important it is, I'd sure as hell rather be warm and dry when he does so.
Towards that end, I move towards the lounge, ignoring his feeble protests. "OK, but it can wait till I've got a little more comfortable, right?"
I kick the lounge door open and walk in.
I'm halfway through the door before I realise the room isn't empty. And when I see who's sat there, our carpet nearly gets a new pattern of orange juice and doughnut jam.
Long graceful legs encased in immaculate black denim. Slender arms tapering to long-fingered musician's hands folded decorously in his lap. Short-sleeved shirt, deep red, open at the neck to give a glimpse of creamy white skin. Deep blue eyes, one half-covered by a waterfall of hair the colour of pure sunlight.
Matt.
Even as those warm blue eyes come up to meet mine, Kou clears his throat.
"Um...surprise?"
And then he leaves, just goes off into his room and shuts the door, leaving me alone in the room with Matt.
He's not even slightly off-balance. I'm forced to drop my eyes before his gaze as I slip into a chair across from him.
Why is he here? With a jolt, I realise we haven't spoken in weeks, haven't seen each other in months. Just the odd email, every now and then...and then I'm suddenly aware that I always take ages to write, whereas he always replies within two days at the most.
It's my fault. I was the one who quietly let our friendship slide. And I know why.
He smiles at me. "Hey."
I take a mouthful of orange juice, giving me time to compose myself. "Hey. How's things?"
He relaxes back into his chair, slipping easily into the conversational style that comes of such long friendship, where only half the words are spoken and even fewer needed. "You know. So-so. You?"
His eyes never leave me as I shift in my chair. "Nothing special."
"Still at college?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Mm-hm."
We sit in silence for a moment, mentally filling in the gaps. From what I can tell, he's acing his course just like I knew he would, and loving every minute of it. He always was too modest for his own good.
And then I realise - I hope he can't read me that well...
He flicks his head, tossing his hair back out of his eyes (how come when I don't get mine cut I look like a bird's nest, and yet his can still look fantastic?) and fixes me with a look from under his lashes.
"You seeing anyone?"
The question is casual, almost innocuous, but I freeze immediately. "No."
"Really?" Subtext: you're still moping over that boy, aren't you?
"Yeah." Then, to try and take the heat off me, "How about you?"
He smiles a little and shakes his head, staring down and to his left like he's remembering something. "Nope."
"Come on!" I force a grin, trying to revive some of the old banter - he's being far too serious for my liking. "You're telling me that you, Matt Ishida, can't get a date? Has the world gone mad?"
He grins - at last! - and swats at me. "Baka."
I swat back, and for a few seconds there's a light-hearted free-for-all which only ends when it threatens to dislodge my orange juice. We end up sprawled across the floor, not caring how we look.
He props himself up on one elbow and smiles at me. "What about you, then? No-one?"
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. "No. There's no-one."
"Not since Andy, huh?"
The lump's back, choking me up completely. Andy - the green-eyed, dark-haired boy who stole my heart with his impish smile and broke it a year later. Great birthday that was, finding him necking another boy in the bowling alley toilets.
Matt shifts closer, pulling me into his shoulder and letting me cry, stroking my back gently. He can't stroke away the memories, though - of sweet first love, the tingle of a stolen kiss, the shiver of an illicit touch. The long evenings alone, just lying together on the sofa and talking about nothing.
How stupid must I look? An eighteen year old, crying into his best friend's shoulder over some long-gone love affair. Stupid. That doesn't stop it hurting, but it helps me stop the tears.
"I'm sorry." He looks it too, blue eyes wide with concern. "I didn't think...I'm sorry. On your birthday, too."
I scrub my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm used to it."
"It must be hard." I look at him quizzically, and he smiles gently. "Being alone, I mean. 'Specially today."
I shrug. "It's just a day."
He leans in and kisses me.
Did that just happen?
I can't tell. The way he's looking at me, he could be waiting for a response, or he could be wondering why the hell I'm sat here blushing hotly and not saying anything.
I raise my fingers to my mouth and trace them slowly over my lips, still trying to catch the fleeting memory - warm lips against mine for no more than a second, soft hair brushing my forehead.
My eyes meet his, and he gives me an embarrassed half-smile. "Um...happy birthday?"
What can I say? "...Thanks."
He chuckles self-consciously. "Sorry."
I want to tell him not to be, but this is so awkward. My best friend just kissed me...
OK, so that's not the biggest problem. The biggest problem is, I have been quietly and discreetly crushing on him since I was twelve. And he doesn't know that...
I spent years trying not to admit it to myself, and then I met Andy. I guess it wasn't really love, just lust - he was cute, there's no denying that. And yeah, there was emotion. I fell for him, really I did. It's just...
He wasn't Matt. He was everything else, but he wasn't Matt. I love everything about Matt, from the way he moves - he always has such an easy grace, like a natural dancer - to his the way his eyes light up when he smiles. Like a pinball machine when you score an extra game.
It happens right now, right in front of my eyes, when I reach forward and take his hand. He twines his fingers with mine, and I lift them slowly to my mouth. He lowers his lashes shyly as I gently kiss his hand, feeling his warmth against my lips.
He keeps tight hold of me when I drop my hand. I never want to let him go. I don't dare move or even breathe in case I change something, break this moment. His fingers tighten and he strokes the back of my hand with his fingertips; I can feel my heartbeat fill my ears as he leans in again.
He dives carefully into my mouth, tracing the outline of my lips with his tongue before slipping between them and delving deeply. I slide a hand up the curve of his neck, into his soft hair, clutching at him for support. He chuckles softly into my mouth, licking at my tongue with his, and I think I'm going to faint. My head is swimming, reeling as he assaults all my senses at once and I can't do anything but surrender...
When he pulls away, the world takes a minute to settle down. When it does, though, I reach out and pull him into my arms. He overbalances, and we end up sprawled on the floor, laughing our heads off.
He pillows his head on my chest and looks up at me, eyes alight with laughter, lips curving in a mischievous smile.
"Have you had a good birthday?"
I smile back at him, tracing the line of his jaw with one finger. "The best ever...almost."
He looks at me questioningly. "Almost?"
I nod. "Yeah. There's still two things to do, till my birthday's perfect."
He sits up, looking like a little puppy begging for a treat. "What're they?"
"Hang on. I'll be right back."
I snag it from behind the door, shake it out with a flick of my wrist, and place it proudly on the doorstep for the first time ever.
Then I shut the door, leaving it to tell everyone to wipe their feet, and incidentally that I'm the happiest boy in the world.
I walk back across the lounge, catching his hand on the way and pulling him with me. When we reach the door to my bedroom I pull him close, staring into his eyes from a distance of a little under an inch.
"One down. One to go."
~owari~