a/n: As promised, here is a gigantic chapter! Seriously it's over twice as long as the things I'd usually post, I've written decently sized one-shots shorter than this (which I should really get around to posting) … Well, enjoy!
Five weeks and five weekends – five Sundays Kurogane took his children to the aquarium, to the zoo, to the park and Fye wandered the streets, a jubilant hum in his throat, a skip in his step, not a care in the world; a gift. There wasn't an ounce of recognition of the unpredictability in the world within their locked and chained stratosphere, veiled from outside eyes.
The sixth Saturday came, the sun shining meekly through the clouds as their humble little routine became brutally interrupted.
Fye had heard the message arrive while Kurogane was out– a click and then a voice. He'd listened with a childish and innate fascination as the voice crept into his ear, a woman's voice, her tone sharp and unsympathetic.
And now he watched as Kurogane spat furious swears into the air, clenching his fists into a dementedly tight grip, like he was trying to violently strangle some invisible substitute for a neck, snapping it, crushing it clean of air. Fye set his glass down, a careful and gentle clink, as he observed this writhing, spitting ball of flames listen to the uncaring Japanese voice spilling from the tiny speaker, cold and revised. Cogs turning in his mind, taking in the level of Kurogane's anger, that relentless fury he only saw one day per week, he gave this voice an image, or rather an identity – Renzu.
She stopped speaking and the answering machine clicked and bleeped, protesting innocence. Kurogane threw a fast and furious fist, bashing down on the button with vengeful wrath and heaved a ragged breath in a failed attempt to cool his blood.
Fye found himself wondering how much any of this was his business. But in the end, he allowed a cheery smile to grace his face, pushing away from the sink with a happy bumble beneath his feet, sliding easily into the seat opposite Kurogane, clasping his head in his hands and peering into the man curiously. Kurogane's eyes lifted, meeting his with a burning glare, flickering with distemper and aggravation. Much like the eyes of a predator, Fye thought, his smile slipping slowly upwards, his own eyes gauging Kurogane's, matching them perfectly. "What happened?" he asked softly, probing gently into Kurogane, walking into the inferno.
And as fierce and violent a glare as Kurogane could deliver, Fye wouldn't budge – he merely stared into him with those piercing eyes, a colour like ice digging sharply beneath his skin and easing its way in chillingly. Kurogane pulled his gaze away, relenting and emitting a thoughtful grunt as he tried to explain the situation to Fye. "She has the children. They're staying with her parents." He leaned back in his chair, nothing more to say, a frown deeply creasing his brow, burying anger and thought into his expression.
Fye raised his eyebrows and smiled simply as he spotted an obvious answer. "So go there," he suggested, delicate and ironic, head balanced elegantly in hand.
Perhaps not so obvious.
Kurogane's eyes narrowed again, glaring pointedly towards Fye before closing as he folded his arms and settled back into his chair. "I can't stay there. They hate me," he said roughly, tone hovering awkwardly.
"For leaving?" Fye asked innocently, shifting his chair in closer and clasping his head in his hands as he brought himself forward, laying his body delicately across the table.
A question too far apparently – he received a dangerous look, a bitter and biting glare snapping at him fiercely. 'Mind your own business' it spat, promptly shoving Fye away from Kurogane's personal life.
Fye gave a wide smile – one which Kurogane couldn't figure out whether it was an apology or a silent remark, curved smoothly and sly, holding a thick and impervious nature and raised kindly at its edges, glowing. Then, firmly, he slammed his hands palm-down decisively. "Aaaaaaaaalso," he declared as his eyes resettled on Kurogane, sparkling optimistically like jewels, "what should we do instead?"
Kurogane leaned forward, frowning questioningly. "…We?" he stated uncertainly; as if he'd never known that the two of them could possibly exist together as a 'we'.
Fye nodded expectantly, grinning like a man gone mad, full of cheer and hope. "Well…?"
Kurogane scratched the back of his neck, frowning thoughtfully as he settled against the back of his chair.
***
"No, no, no, no, no, Kuro-chan," he sang, shaking his head in time to the melody within his voice and holding up a smooth, pale finger in the air, letting it hover there pointedly, swaying a little. "The Atacama is in America."
"It'll be Africa," Kurogane stated definitely, gruffly, gesturing towards the sickly bright TV with his beer can as he allowed all of his weight to sink into the sofa, the absorbed skin becoming mellow.
"Nei!" Fye interjected sharply, scrunching his face up slightly and now waggling his finger towards the screen they'd found themselves jokingly trapped to. "Can you hear it? That's not from Africa…"
"Maybe it's not North America…" Kurogane argued solemnly.
The presenter beamed a smile, plastic and bleached, politely forming an answer through her white teeth.
"What was it?" Fye asked, frowning confusedly, as if he'd actually expected to understand her and had then been greatly disappointed.
"South America," Kurogane answered, falling agitatedly back into his seat.
"Oh…" Fye said, his face dropping before he dissolved into a pile of giggles and burst suddenly, vibrantly and violently into laughter, pouring from his mouth, both abundant and glorious. He lolled his head against the back of the sofa, bringing it to rest there placidly, in peace, a pleased and curled smile still lying against his mouth. He tipped back his beer bottle.
Kurogane breathed deeply, squinting his eyes slightly to read the next question, face set in a frighteningly stern expression. "How many countries are in Asia?"
"Hhhhmmmm," Fye pondered, tapping a finger against his lips, finally stating assertively, "48." He glanced over to Kurogane, staring in an almost giddy happiness. "Your answer?"
Kurogane merely shrugged, shutting his eyes and returning to his reflective couch wallowing.
Fye playfully jabbed his arm, pouting and whining, "No fun!" before buzzers and alarms started ringing and he turned his attention back to the TV. "How many?"
"47."
"Damn."
"Good try."
"Thank you!" Fye beamed, downing a little more of his drink, smiling self-satisfactorily, that silly happiness sliding through into the room.
It hadn't exactly started like this – in fact, Kurogane was vaguely certain that it had started as an innocent Japanese lesson and then slowly descended into a terrible-afternoon-TV drinking session. Which had its fun sides, he had to admit. It was nine by now.
"Who did…" he started to read and then furrowed his eyebrows in heavy confusion, unable to translate. "…what?"
"Nelson Mandela!" Fye declared with utmost certainty, raising both his voice and his hand, throwing his arm and empty bottle into the air with jubilant enthusiasm as the programme slipped into an ad break.
Kurogane chortled in amusement at the reaction, a rough and distinct tone, rifling through his dictionary, a missing word in mind, and then shutting it with an almost meditative air and a definite snap - "You're drunk."
Fye laughed gleefully and tapped the side of his nose with a wink, singing tunefully, "Maybe."
"You are," Kurogane said assertively, an entertained and almost superior smirk tugging at his lips, the alcohol perhaps digging too deep into his system. The kid was a light-weight but he attributed that to age. Now he was a father and an ex-husband he could reminisce happily upon the days when he was the same – youthful and carefree, no commitments or responsibility. Actually thinking about it was making him feel old. And he wasn't old at all.
"I'm not. Look." Fye sprang up from his seat, bouncing determinedly across the carpet of the living room, stopping and placing his feet together with intention, a grin he tried to drown in a serious expression tweaking at the corners of his mouth. He walked forward with care, placing his tread within a straight line. "One, two-"
He promptly fell over the coffee table.
Kurogane spurted a slight and cruel laugh, the corners of his mouth tweaking awkwardly, appearing self-righteous as Fye picked himself back up, balancing uncertainly and declaring jubilantly, "Yes! Yes, I am drunk!"
Kurogane shook his head at a lack of any other response to give, feeling the sofa jerk beneath him as Fye threw himself back down on the seat next to him, joyously and childishly, exaggeratedly pulling his legs back up and grinning dementedly, stating, "But I'm happy."
Kurogane raised his eyebrows, having overdone it slightly as well; perhaps not making an idiot out of himself, but his head was a bleary mess, struggling to place things at a sensible rate. "Are you?"
"Yes," Fye answered, nodding his head so furiously that it made him dizzy. His smile slipped, rising playfully. "Are you?"
Kurogane shut his eyes, sliding down the chair and folding his legs over each other on top of the coffee table.
"Kuro-riiiiiiiinnn!" Fye moaned for an answer, poking him animatedly on the arm, leaning over and shuffling closer to him, pouting disappointedly.
"Tch, no," Kurogane muttered grumpily in response, folding his arms as well.
"Aaaahhh!" Fye almost groaned in defeat, flopping down on to his back, his legs lying curled beside Kurogane and letting his arms flap about as he sighed in dismay, "Kuro-chan is never happy!"
Kurogane glanced over to him, watching him shift about as his eyes resettled towards the TV screen and then flicked away in disinterest, closing and pressing himself sleepily into that beaten, heart-felt material swathing the seat, encompassing him, allowing him rest, his golden locks sliding across his face and pooling beautifully on to the seat, illuminated in this dank and human light. He emitted a small smile, drunken and happy, and pushed his face further into the seat.
And eventually Kurogane's eyebrow furrowed, a question coming to mind suddenly. "Why are you here?"
Fye frowned slightly, sleepily, as he raised his head, his pretty smile dropping instantly and falling away into a cold void. "I… I don't know." He sat upright, scrunching his eyes tight shut and shaking his head lightly, mind an indecipherable fog. "Nope, I don't know."
"How?" Kurogane volleyed irritably, eyes now narrowing.
Fye's eyes slunk over, meeting his and feeling that strange clash of eye contact, hard, brutal and solid. He averted his gaze, brushing his hair away from his eyes distractedly and muttering, "I can't think… I don't want to think…" He emitted a huge sigh, using the majority of his chest just to pack all the air into his lungs and push it back out again. He then grinned and laughed giddily, repeating cheerily with much more bulk and weight, "I don't want to think."
Kurogane glared at him suspiciously, frustrated and angry, his eyes pulsing and burning in aggravation. However Fye was not so drunk as to be unable to respond, staring him straight on, building a careless and happy smile on his face, content to just trundle on the way things were, without explanation, and a sharp glint beneath his eyes stating fiercely and adamantly that things were going to stay that way.
Unable to spy a crack to prise open or to smash wide clear to retrieve the answer he deserved, Kurogane retreated, grunting in displeasure. And at his side, Fye sat back straight again, settling with his gaze towards the TV, a clipped and proud smile alighting his face, raised slightly in achievement.
Kurogane frowned at him once more before turning back in indignation, eyes spinning back in annoyance to the new question splayed across the screen, tone grunting threateningly, "The capital of Australia?"
"Canberra," Fye answered easily, resting against the sofa once more, a happy smile at his lips.
Kurogane muttered agitated words under his breath, something sitting heavily and uncomfortably in his chest, making him restless. And visibly so.
Fye now stared towards him, a markedly different feeling emerging within, rising sorrowfully through him, a pang of guilt stabbing at him suddenly, blurred at the edges in his intoxication but still noticeable and painful. "Sorry," he whispered solemnly, staring towards the TV. "I can't."
He felt those heavy, red eyes shift over to him, staring dubiously and judgementally and smiled softly, a gentle curve. "If I can then I will. You should know… of everyone, you should know." His voice sank away into nothing, his eyes turning away to the dull and mottled carpet, nodding, fading into a slow bob, a sadly contemplative stare, wet beneath his eyes.
Kurogane allowed the moment to sink away, his face blank as his attention drew back towards the TV, placated slightly. Gruffly, he channel-hopped, flicking past rapidly, sometimes settling for a few moments.
"And the weather tomorrow afternoon looks…"
"Cloudy!" Fye burst out, leaping forward in his seat and grinning hopefully.
"Shut up!" Kurogane snapped, attacking him with the remote.
"Ow!"
***
It wouldn't always be this way.
Perhaps Fye was unused to the alcohol in his system at that age, falling under its influence all to easily and naively, but as he grew older, as a more experienced aura and tone emanated from the skin, the manner in which he held himself, that edge to his eyes matured then eventually, step by step, year by year, his tolerance grew and strengthened until he was finally able to drink Kurogane under the table.
Naturally, everyone joked that it was because he was German but he took their jibes in good-humour, claiming that his exposure to alcohol had increased exponentially ever since he'd moved in with Kurogane.
***
"I'm tired," he declared, mouth gaping like a chasm in a yawn.
Kurogane neglected to reply, save to raise his eyebrows sarcastically and skip another few channels in an attitude of explicit disinterest.
It was ten. And by now, Fye had exhausted every drop of energy within his body, pouring it heedlessly into his drunken, carefree and naïve antics, his free and singing laughter, his arms waving and wading in wide, structural crescents, mind buzzing with demented haste, his lips dripping and rolling soft and simple words, intonating them to string them together and form a beautiful, jubilant tune. He regretted it now, feeling his consciousness fall dangerously from his body, hanging over some bottomless pit, drooping eyelids and dangling limbs, slumped against the back of the sofa, pressed into it almost grudgingly.
He'd collapsed slowly and steadily, body gradually shutting down like a closing shop or wilting like a long-forgotten flower, sliding in tiny steps deeper and deeper into the sofa, completely drained. Kurogane watched on repeat as he laid his head into the soft and comforting padding, shutting his eyes tenderly and self-consciously, and brushing blissfully against the outer reaches of sleep, luxurious dreams gleaming like precious jewels beneath his fingertips, only to screw up his face as the noises of the TV, brash and tasteless, crashed abruptly against his senses, ripping him violently from much yearned for rest. He gave a lingering and frustrated glare towards Kurogane, the volume button lying teasingly beneath his thumb, with a mouth set in disdain. Then he sighed.
"Sleep!" Kurogane suggested angrily, as though he were consciously trying to be cold and selfish, as unhelpful and irritating as he could be.
"Can't," Fye mumbled sleepily, prodding Kurogane with his foot. "This is my bed."
Kurogane responded by changing the channel.
Fye groaned in aggravation, throwing himself on to his other side and turning his back on Kurogane in a bitter huff, falling dramatically and exaggeratedly, unable to shut out the noise from the TV blearing incessantly in his ears, setting root in his mind and gripping on for dear life no matter how hard Fye tried to rip the sounds away.
Kurogane supposed that the simple solution to get him to shut up and stop whining would be to offer him his own bed for the night. It was just a shame for Fye that Kurogane would then be forced to set up camp in the living-room. The sofa was probably too small and cramped to accommodate his bulk and height. Pity. So, he reasoned, they'd both just have to deal with it – one with torturous sleep deprivation and the other with the constant poking, moaning and tormenting…
Although he turned the volume down a fraction, now unsure why he was even insisting on watching TV other than out of stubborn and fine-tuned habit. Frankly, it was all shit.
He pushed away Fye's feet once more, creeping towards him slowly and encroaching on his personal space in a futile attempt to spread himself comfortably over the sofa.
After another few minutes of attempts, Fye finally gave his deepest sigh yet, shifting his whole chest and lifting his shoulders to their full height just to encompass the gigantic breath, and asked, voice between death and sleep, "Kuro-meaniiieeee, head or feet?"
Kurogane frowned, confusion pressed into the crease in his forehead but replied, toneless and unquestioning, "Head."
"Okay," Fye chirped, falling smoothly across and dropping his head down onto his lap before Kurogane could complain, splaying out his full height over the tiny and strained sofa, settling briefly and bidding a quick and pointed, "Good night," before shutting his eyes and slipping smoothly away into a long-awaited sleep.
Kurogane heaved a frustrated groan, thankful only that Fye's head was turned away, feeling it awkwardly pressed against his legs just before the knee. Clasping his shoulders, he gripped them fiercely, digging his fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging abruptly, attempting to coax him out of his invasion. To no avail – Fye barely stirred save to shift into a slightly more comfortable position and lay a hand on Kurogane's knee, spreading out his fingers stubbornly in indignation.
The older man's teeth gritted, grinding on themselves down to the root and he snatched Fye's skinny arms, yanking them, attempting to prise him off and throw him to the other end of the sofa, a damn useless distraction. Fye merely smirked, his lips curling cruelly as he nestled his head a bit further into Kurogane's lap.
Kurogane's frown deepened in realisation. So that's how it was…
He folded his arms and leant back nonchalantly, as though nothing had changed since he'd last glanced towards the screen. This little game was a little childish for his liking but at the very least he knew how to win. And surprisingly for a man of such little tolerance, it was a matter of patience. Not his brightest virtue exactly but when it came to a waiting game, the idea of losing was not too favourable with him either.
So he waited, arms folded, heart set in stone as he attempted to quell any perception of weight against his legs, staring towards the obnoxiously bright screen as if nothing had ever happened, as if the TV had been left to steadily liquefy his mind uninterrupted. He would deftly foil this plan laid out and executed pristinely, only a single wrinkle on its surface giving away the intention, set out to irk him and pass payment for Fye's heavy and pressing exhaustion, for banishing him from precious sleep. Clever yet somehow naïve – alighting and framing his youth in a simple frame. Kurogane ignored the tweaking of fingertips, playing cunningly on his mind, and his soft breath spilling lightly against his jeans, procuring an unprepared intimacy, imitating a deep and wonderful sleep.
That charade lasted maybe a minute more before Fye cracked like an egg, shattering like glass, this newly hatched and awkward atmosphere digging bluntly at both their guts with spoons. First his eyes squeezed tight shut, slight creases forming about his eyes with brutal focus, as though not a single trace of his surroundings should infiltrate his senses, becoming pinned in his mind, playing the same unavoidable tune over and over again. His attempts to remain blank proving futile, secondly the corners of his mouth twitched desperately and helplessly, betraying consciousness. It was the single crack that brought down the whole wall – he finally burst into laughter, floating embarrassed and joyous through the night air, muffled uncomfortably in Kurogane's thickly built legs. It reverberated more like a series of giggles, chuckling innocently between breaths, "I feel like a cat!" The never-ending spiel of laughter carried on, singing drunkenly and innocently through the darkness, a little river of happiness in the night.
Shoulders shuddering against his knees, Kurogane smirked, dark and victorious, relieved, and gave Fye a sharp shove, indicating that he should just give up, that he should piss back off to his own side of the sofa. However Fye remained, clutching at Kurogane's knees stubbornly through his whimsical laughter.
Finally Kurogane muttered a sharp, "Tch," as his patience snapped cleanly in two and his irritation got the better of him, standing up unsympathetically, ignoring the blonde youth on his lap and nearly sending him spiralling on to the floor with a pitiful yelp, dangling precariously over the edge, half on the ground. He glanced down towards him for a moment with an indifferent edge in his eyes hiding the strange and unaccustomed guilt rising within his chest as Fye pouted grudgingly, cold blue eyes staring towards him in hurt and annoyance as he languidly clambered back on to the sofa, dragging and shuffling his way back up, only a couple of dregs of strength remaining within him. It reminded Kurogane a bit of a kitten, ironically…
He turned away and went to the bathroom, stopping by the kitchen on his way back and taking another drink from the fridge, lino sticking to the soles of his feet, clinging to his skin irritatingly and persistently, those lights from outside skimming lazily into the room and hovering there, equally tired and restless. As he padded back through to the living room, cold drink in hand, a bleary and relaxed atmosphere wallowing in the back of his mind, he took in the sight of Fye lying there and heaved an agitated and weary breath. The TV was on mute and, having escaped that infuriating and cyclical trap of noise and frustration, he had laid his head down, pressing himself into the sofa without care or attention, curled up warmly in the middle, the very heart, and drifted off quickly and thankfully into sleep. It had encompassed him freely, allowing him to sink deep within in such a short space of time. In fact as Kurogane half-perched on a free space on the sofa next to him, bringing his weight down and shifting the seat slightly, as he'd placed an inconvenienced and cautious hand against his shoulder and shaken him carefully, Fye hadn't stirred or moved or even taken it into recognition. His eyes were closed loosely and contentedly, his lips separated just a fraction, inhaling tender and wide breaths in his sleep, for the time being searching dreams in a semblance of peace so deep it verged on determined.
Kurogane grunted in irritation, too stubborn to retreat to bed and call it a day, instead opting to gathering his limp body up in his arms, an immobile and empty shell dangling heavily and pressed closely, head lolling delicately against his chest.
Miraculously, he remained in his inhumanly deep and contained sleep, lost to the outside world, as Kurogane dumped his body unceremoniously on to his bed without a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes, returning thoughtfully to wrap half the duvet across his undisturbed body, head rested placidly against the pillow, seemingly at home there, flickers of golden hair curled lightly across his forehead and spread gracefully onto the generous pillow. Kurogane heaved a reluctantly accepting breath, dragging his weight back through to the living-room and, after a while, setting himself down on the sofa indignantly and hesitantly, cramped and uncomfortable as he pulled the blanket over himself, as he threw his body viciously from side to side, finding it impossible to get comfortable with his feet jammed against the arm-rest. God only knows how he even managed to fall asleep there and god only knows why he'd even resorted to this in the first place.
He awoke with a crick in his neck, bitterly cursing that damned idiot.
***
The idiot woke up and blinked his eyes firmly, uncertainly as he lay there for a moment, swathed in the close and pressing material of his clothes from yesterday, of the duvet, heavy on his body after two months wrapped tightly and warmly in a thin blanket on the sofa. He tentatively pushed the duvet away from his eyes, turning and rising both steadily and curiously, glancing about himself… Kurogane's bedroom.
He flipped over on to his other side, ducking from the piercing rays of sunlight shooting through his eyes and crashing against his skull, awakening something allergic to the morning, and pulling the covers over his head with a groan as he peeked through to check the digital clock laid reliably by the side of Kurogane's bed, set in firm angles against the bedside table, those digital numbers glowing numbly… His head tumbled sleepily back into the pillow and under the sheets, still retaining some warmth, trying to bury himself in mild aggravation, a hammer whacking finely against his brain… nearly afternoon…
He heaved a sigh, realising that he wasn't tired enough to lull himself back to the soft reaches of sleep, to relieve himself of the hangover ripping apart his head and scattering the pieces like confetti. So reluctantly, he sat up, covering his eyes from the sun like a small child playing hide-and-seek and oh so hesitantly swung his feet over the side of the bed, feeling that unfamiliar carpet press invasively between his toes as he began to realise what must have happened the night before to have brought him here.
He made the bed, a small sign of thanks, immaculately smoothing out the sheet until not a wrinkle could be seen or felt, then plodded through to the bathroom, practically on his knees as he brushed his teeth and crawled into the shower, blasting himself with water, standing there as the water drilled resentfully against his throbbing head, hot rivulets slinking blissfully down his sides before he urged himself out.
That was when he first heard those noises, banging and clattering, reverberating resentfully in his mind as he plodded through to the living room in a towel, gritting his teeth in irritation. Half-naked and dripping on the floor slightly, he felt painfully self-conscious as he snatched a set of clothes laid in a neat pile beside his bag, pressed unobtrusively by the side of the sofa, and hastily retreated back into the bathroom to change. When he emerged, glowing and radiant on the outside, a dull storm cloud lashing within, mere dregs of light and strength clinging on, he padded through to the kitchen, tracking the source of that infuriating noise, banging on incessantly, driven by a keen sense of curiosity. He sauntered over to the door to the spare room leading off from the kitchen, peering inside and coming to fall against the frame dozily as he watched a scene play out before his half-focused eyes.
The spare room was home to an assortment of clutter and junk, spread in disorganised piles and heaps about the neglected floor. He usually found it difficult to negotiate whilst cleaning without toppling or breaking something that should have been discarded a long, long time ago – broken furniture and appliances, old clothes, dusty CDs and tapes. In fact he barely went in there at all anymore seeing as the room appeared to be forever abandoned, left to fade away and rot.
For the time being this rubbish was arranged in a clump against the furthermost wall, towering pitifully and precariously to the side of the cleared space in the centre of the room where Kurogane was crouched over a collection of large bits and pieces of welded metal and cheap planks of wood, appearing fairly aggravated but focused.
"What are you doing?" Fye called out confusedly, softly pressing his head against the wooden door frame, allowing himself to sink against it.
Kurogane turned and stared towards him disinterestedly, registering only his presence before turning back to his work, shunning Fye from his vision like a pointless distraction as he continued picking and analysing screw shapes and sizes, comparing their spiralling whorl with the instructions set carelessly and untouched by his side, barely referred to or given a single thought. Eventually, mildly satisfied with his selection, he picked up a screwdriver and indirectly responded, away from Fye's eyes, "I'm making your bed."
Fye raised his eyebrows, those words bouncing off the fog inside his soggy excuse for a mind at the time, eventually dropping them, frowning as he muttered bemusedly, "There's a bed?"
"There will be," Kurogane replied, screwdriver held tightly in hand, working furiously on the framework with a rigid and determined expression, set like stone. He was a man who tended to concentrate on a job, who would grapple with it and never let it go until it was complete, becoming easily nerved when it came to interruptions and keeping a steady, focused mind. So he stared with a hardened edge as the blonde floated light-heartedly into the room, skimming over the bits of bed lying about and came to place himself gracefully next to him, a touched smile rising wonderfully and gleaming warmly, kind-heartedly.
"Thank you," Fye stated gently and genuinely, the words spilling from somewhere unseen inside him.
Kurogane gave him a sharp and dubious stare, undermining his own actions as he frowned disbelievingly at the depth of Fye's gratitude, then turned away with a bitter and dismissive, "Tch, you're welcome," pushing the matter directly and effectively behind them with a gruff edge.
Fye's smile dimmed appropriately as he glanced about himself with focus, ignoring his hangover, throbbing dully and heavily, picking up tools and reaching past Kurogane for the instructions with a reflective and contented air, humming cheerily as he decisively set to work, fiddling with tools and screws. He didn't say much but now and then he would stare towards his handiwork, frowning uncertainly as he tightened the frame, rocking it hesitantly, doubt spread over his face thickly in the way he furrowed his eyebrows, the sharp and tight twist in his lips. He'd poke about it haphazardly, logical but perhaps impractical, until finally Kurogane would take the tools out of his hands, moving over, forcing Fye to shuffle away as he tightened everything for him, a grip and stare so harsh they could snap whatever they came in contact with but the tools withheld, remaining intact beneath his strong and pressing hand, and finally he slapped a decisive palm against the metal frame, hearing it ring encouragingly, structurally solid.
"Hyuu hyuu!" Fye chirped delightedly, clapping lightly in emphasis and receiving a questioning frown. He merely shrugged, unsure how to explain, unable to find a reason why he needed to, and grinning a sly, almost cat-like grin before rising elegantly and skimming through to the kitchen, not to be seen by Kurogane for another half an hour. When he re-emerged he was balancing a tray carefully in hand, carrying a thoughtfully and kindly prepared meal, slipping through the door with a precious glint in his eyes. Bringing himself down on to the floor, tucking his legs beneath him to rest himself comfortably on the visible pieces of floor, he pushed the tray towards Kurogane with a loose and friendly smile, suggesting a strangely dislodged and unassuming picnic held between the two of them in the middle of this scrambled room, boxes towering around them like an audience, an awkward thanks emerging abruptly at Kurogane's lips as he reached for the chopsticks.
They finished their work after their simple meal, talking and laughing somewhere between strangers and friends – the bed, a piece of mismatched handiwork standing solidly in the middle of the room. Kurogane heaved the mattress on and watched as Fye fell on top, immediately pressing himself into it, tilting his head and burying in deeper, a wide and helpless grin upon his face, laughter contained and welling up in his throat. His eyes opened, twinkling youthfully, the gratitude within sparkling like diamonds as he smiled, small and wonderfully contented, towards his tenant's stilted and jarred sense of generosity. Kurogane gave a quick and satisfied smirk, a sense of achievement rising within him beyond his control and then left the room, allowing Fye to move his things through to his new bedroom.
***
It'd been over a month. More than a month of that damn sofa. And now, stretching out his arms it felt as if he were free somehow. There was a whole world out there but he'd never wanted the world, he'd wanted a close feeling, an attachment. Sprawled there, a childish giggle spread on his lips, he allows himself to drift off to wherever this world may take him, where it might want to take him. I mean it had worked so far, right?
Something told him, a little niggling voice as the springs beneath adjusted to his weight, that he'd overstayed his welcome. But he didn't want to face himself right now; not yet. He buried his face a little farther into his pillow.
He'd miss those mornings, those strange and awkward mornings where Kurogane would wake him in passing, where they'd share a garbled early morning conversation and a half-chewed breakfast together before Kurogane departed. A bathroom that always smelt strongly of aftershave and deodorant and a bed half-made, the curtains half-open…
Something clutching at his chest, he realised that this man had done too much for him, and perhaps that made him feel guilty but in another strange way wanted. That's all anyone wants, isn't it? Their relationship so far had been a bit of a strange one, filled with swearing and partial English, with customs and clashes, but there was something within their oddly paired personalities that made them somehow compatible together. Strangely they made good roommates. One was clean and the other made money… okay perhaps this pairing was slightly selfish on both sides but he could definitely feel something lurking beneath the surface – a mutuality perhaps. He felt it blossoming into a close and keen friendship.
His heart rose a little in his chest, his personal smile widened slightly as he thought of this, of knowing someone, having an unbiased connection. He thought of his own severed world tucked up in bed, floating on a boat drifting out into a deep and unknown sea, rocking gently… he inhaled the salty air, a sharp tang on his tongue with an almost giddy appreciation, a sense of freedom, not a single element behind his back oppressing him darkly and unknowingly.
So there was a strong feeling of gratitude within him – thankful to the person who had invited him to this world, handed him the key.
He would pay it back to him in smiles and laughter, an element sorely lacking in Kurogane's world. He understood that he would never be able to fill that deep and sorrowful cavern within him, that gap where in the past he would have held his children in his arms. There was no way he could replace that feeling. Instead he would blunt that cutting edge digging spitefully into Kurogane's chest, he'd try his very best to soothe his wound with a glowing smile, a fun disposition, a more upbeat life-style and fresh coffee in the morning.
It was the least he could do in return.
On Sunday night he fell asleep in a blissfully large and encompassing bed, knowing that he'd done his job that day, something rising joyously within him as his consciousness dropped like a rock and he slipped into something beautiful and unreal.
a/n: Okay, first note (and once more feel free to correct me, in fact, please do!) 'Aaaaaaaalso' was a little something I got taught in German by the assistant as a way of hesitating in a speaking exam while still speaking correct German xD I'd say it roughly translates to things like 'Weeeeeeeeeeeeell' and 'Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway'
Second note – For some reason I was certain the Atacama was in North America from a quiz show I watched and I had to swap it about last minute lol Alcohol deteriorates Fye and Kurogane's sense of geography. And then I thought Istanbul was the capital of Turkey and it isn't so I had to change that too X.X I didn't think my geography was THAT bad… Fye must get really sleepy when he's drunk in this…
More notes – I'm on exam leave so don't expect any rapid updates, I'll be busy crying over Maths problems.
Well, hope you're enjoying it!
