Normal paragraphs-1st person, Takeru
*paragraphs*-3rd person, present action.
Title: Break the Cycle-Fade (POV Takeru)
____________________________
//It was never meant to fade away
Never meant to fade//
That I loved him, was never the question. My trust and faith in him came to be in doubt, but I knew, always, that I would love him forever. The reason behind the fighting, my accusations, that I know he's remembered since he arrived today, is the simple fact that: I never believed he loved me.
I got him on the rebound.
*The drive was completed in silence, neither man wanting to hold the eminent discussion while driving through the middle of Odaiba.*
It was my luck that he fell for his Jogress partner. For me, the connection I held with Iori was more of a brotherhood, a kinship. Daisuke fell in love. With a straight boy, who in turn, is going to marry a woman. He has already proposed to Miya, and I know he knows.
Today, it was almost like old times. Discounting my brother and his new lover. Figures, my brother and I would have the same idea. We both wanted to have another chance. To make peace with our friends, and, hopefully, to reunite with the one person that we have ever loved. It worked for him, but I can still feel the bitterness in Dai.
*They passed outside the city, heading towards Heightonview Terrace. It was a short drive.*
And, of course, it was not like he ever loved me to begin with. I was there to fall back on when Ken broke his heart, the bastard. For Dai, I was more than willing. I had waited for him, first with his infatuation with Hikari, then through what I had always assumed was another 'crush'. But it was more than that. I watched the pain glaze his eyes, saw the listless way he acted for those first four or so weeks.
Picked up the pieces, held him while he cried, listened to him listing every single one of Ichijouji's virtues. Despite his heartbreak and pain, he could still see no flaw in the genius. And I stayed silent, feeling a pain similar to his, knowing that I could never replace his best friend, or his heart.
*They pulled into the parking lot, and in front of Takeru's building. At the same time, they got out of the car, and started lugging out the coolers.*
The day I asked him out, and he said yes, I nearly died in surprise. We started dating in what, our first year of college? That's about right. It lasted two beautiful, wonderful, short years. There are times that I think I would have been better off, never having the chance to hold and love him. At night, still, I have trouble sleeping, remembering his scent, and the feel of him in my arms.
//I just needed someone to talk to
You were just too busy with yourself//
*They made it inside, and to the elevators in one trip. Luckily, there was no one in the lobby to see them both lugging in two coolers apiece. They dropped them at the doors, and then looked at each other, smiling at their own stupidity. For a moment, it seemed like times before. Daisuke stopped smiling, and Takeru hit the button.*
He was a great lover, and a wonderful boyfriend, while he lasted. it was the greatest time of my life, waking up to him, sometimes in the middle of the night. To find him there, with his arms around me, or mine around him. Beyond heaven. The memory alone is enough to offer some comfort, if I don't remember what came after.
Of course, it's as hard to forget the bad parts as it is the good. Example, I remember stopping him from slitting his wrists when Ken rejected him. I talked him out of it, and I let him pour his heart out to me. All his love, unreturned, his affections, refused, his pride, trampled. That's when we became the best of friends, in high school, because I kept him alive.
Little did he know, that he kept me alive as well.
*The elevator up was consumed by the sound of soft music, and the grind of machinery.*
It came full circle while he was gone. In high school, I was his lifeline. In college, he was mine. He never knew about the job I actually had, the one that enabled me to write, and sell my stories. I couldn't tell him, and he didn't ask, always assumed that it was just luck. I was lucky, alright.
Look at me now, this man with golden hair, and sapphire eyes, who grins the grin of hope, and then at the boy I was, the same hair, the same eyes, and the same grin, and then let me tell you that I sold it all. My virginity, that I always told Dai went to a boy in high school, was bought by a middle aged man when I was nineteen.
I hadn't sold a one of my books, until Dai left me. The money that I got for my 'writing', while we were still together, came from the selling of my body. My soul, my heart, have always been his, but my body has never been mine.
Matt would have a fit, hearing this.
*They stepped out on the fifth floor, and lugged the coolers down the hall. Takeru searched through his pockets for his keys, then remembered that he'd given them to his brother.
"I've got mine." Daisuke pulled out his, and the blonde watched as he opened the door, blue eyes gazing sadly at the key in his tanned hand.*
Yes, I'm aware that there are better professions, and more opportunities, but at the time, it was something I could do that would allow me to be there when he got home. I could cook for him, clean for him, and be there for him. I had hoped, too, that he would quit one of his jobs after the 'book deal' came.
Wrong, I know. He would never allow anyone to support him, not financially. I should have realized that sooner, but I was caught up in the moment, that I didn't even feel 'dirty' until the day he came home with lipstick on his collar, and I realized how it would look if he ever found out. I was upset, at myself, and I took it out on him. Hell, the misunderstanding with the girl was nothing, compared to the guilt I felt when I saw the shock on his face at my refusal to listen to what had happened.
//You were never there for me to
Express how I felt//
If you ask me now, who's to blame for our breakup, I'll tell you me. I was jealous, and I shouldn't have been. I knew, as I know now, that he would never cheat on me, but I was hurting, and the pain was increasing each day. I knew, but I needed a reason.
Take away his loyalty, and his belief in all things honorable, and what other reason did he have to stay with me? I wanted the words. I needed to hear that he loved me too, if just a little. I wanted a return of the feelings I had, instead of just his body.
The little bastard that tried to split us up got the shit beat out of him the day after Daisuke left me. And he wondered why I was jealous? Take one look at the little punk that told me he was having an affair with my lover, and you'll know.
Long, inky black hair, violet eyes, and a pale complexion. Rather nice, on the outside. He looked like a certain genius I know. Add to that the fact that his voice was moderate like Ken's and he had similar mannerisms, and it's no wonder that I believed it was possible. It was his own first love, again. Only willing, this time.
Hateful? Yes. I knew it then, I know it now. He wasn't Ken, and Daisuke wasn't in love with him. At the time, however, I was in deep depression, and hiding it too well. I wanted the love of a man in love with another, and I felt insecure and incomplete without it. I expected too much of him, without ever giving him what he needed from me in return. I could never understand why he couldn't see what I offered him, if only he would accept me.
I understand now.
*It was in silence that they entered the apartment and headed for the kitchen. They put the food and items away in the same companionalbe quiet, avoiding physical contact, and each other's gaze.*
Five years ago, I was a silly, romantic fool who wanted it all, one who couldn't accept less. I would now. I would accept his friendship, if it was all he offered. I would take his body, if given the chance. Should he offer me his back, and another goodbye, I'll accept that, too. Life goes on, I've learned that, too.
I didn't know it, then. Two months after he left our apartment, I sat in the bathroom, a blade to my wrist. I didn't want to know a life without him, a home without his presence. As luck should have it, it was Ken who found me. Ken who held me, and soothed me. Fate is cruel. I had done the same thing two years before for the boy who's heart he'd broken with is words, and his inability to love him the way he wanted.
Ironic, isn't it?
//I just stuffed it down
Now I'm older and I feel like
I could let some of the anger fade//
*"You wanted to talk, so talk." Daisuke leaned against the counter, everything in it's place. Takeru had nowhere to hide, nothing to put this off any longer.
"Sure." He leaned against the wall, facing the redhead. With a sigh, he met his eyes. And said nothing.*
A day. If only he had waited a day, I could have told him I was sorry. We used to make up in the night, because we never saw each other in the day. Instead of greeting him in apology, I fell asleep on the couch. I hadn't wanted to just fall into bed, letting the chance go by without telling him my side. I wanted him to know, so badly. I was going to tell him everything.
Prostitution, with clients of both genders. Going through each day, knowing I'd have to lie to him when he got home. Sitting in class with people who had bought me, teachers who eyed me in apprehension when they realized who I was.
I hoped, someplace in my heart, that he would love me, and that his love would make me clean. Isn't that what love did? Cleansed the soul and purified the body? I had such high hopes, and I slept through them all. I knew it when I woke up in the morning, and he was gone. I debated whether I should go to class, or wait for him. I decided on class, figuring I'd have another chance to solve it.
*Blue eyes slipped away, the man unable to utter a single thought in his heart, due to the thickness of his throat. Daisuke watched him, patiently impatient. He had never been one to wait.
"Takeru?" He was too busy to fight the tears to answer the inquiry. The redhead was only mildly worried. "We really should discuss this."
"I know." He drew in a shaky breath, letting his gaze slip back. "I'm sorry. For letting you believe five years ago that I had so little faith in you."
"I don't understand."
"Five years ago, I accused you of cheating on me and lying to me. I knew you hadn't, but I couldn't admit that. I'm sorry." That was a good place to start.
"Thank you." He blinked, not expecting that exact admission. "I'm sorry for telling a stranger our problems."*
So, let's see. Suicide attempts, prostitution, emotional abuse, and insecurity. Oh yeah, I'm a great catch. I can see Daisuke jumping at a chance to get me back.
//But it seems the surface
I am scratching
Is the bed that I have made//
*"He contacted me." Daisuke continued. "After I left. He called the hotel I was staying in, and told me a bunch of things. I wanted to kill him." The anger was evident in his voice.
"What did he say?" Takeru was half-afraid of the answer. He remembered vaguely beating he crap out of the scrawny, starving artist, and hollering a lot. He could also recall some rather just accusations being thrown his way, for which the loser had paid for with a broken rib, and split lip. He hadn't denied the truth, he simply made the jerk wish he would.
Daisuke looked at him, his brown eyes sad, his lips pursed. "I think you know." They looked at each other, the truth another wall between them.
Takeru grinned without mirth, his own lips twisting. He shrugged, looking at the ceiling. His eyes were moist by that time.*
The pain on his face was killing me. He was told, but never believed it. He thought the best of me, despite everything. And now, I've ruined every illusion he's ever held of Takaishi Takeru. That was rather easy, too.
Do you hate me, Daisuke? For being a whore? For sullying the bed we shared with the memories of other lovers, lovers who are faceless and nameless, but were there? Can you forgive me for that? I knew you were better than that, and that's why I never actually came after you. Your silence was like my penance, my punishment for the shame I brought myself. Each unanswered letter was another lash against the sin that covered my body, and rode my conscious.
*"You bastard." Takeru didn't bother looking away from the cobweb in the corner. "You hypocritical, fucking asshole!"*
Score: Motomiya-two, Takaishi-none.
*"How dare you! All those times you looked at me as if I was carrying some disease, simply because you were jealous enough to believe I'd do that, and you were..." He broke off, unalbe to say it.
Blue eyes flicked down. "I was...what? Fucking anything that moved and had money? Selling my soul and my body for nothing, when I could have had a good, decent job? Accusing you of doing half of what I did on a daily basis, even though I knew you were innocent? I dared very easily, Daisuke, because I thought it would work out in the end." He raised and hand, palm up, in a defeated gesture.
"And how was that going to happen, Takeru? How?" He was pissed. His eyes flashed, his cheeks were flushed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist.
"You were going to make everything better." That made the redhead draw in his breath sharply. "You were going to be my salvation, my guiding light." The blonde smiled, licking his lips. He looked like a defeated man, standing there, his shoulders bent. "You were going to love me, despite everything, and I was going to get out of it, because I wouldn't need that type of money anymore."
"You didn't need it to begin with! We were doing alright, financially." Daisuke ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His chest felt heavy, and he was having trouble seeing through the moisture in his eyes.
"But, if I had a normal job, I'd never be home, like you. I wanted so badly to be with you, to be near you. That way, I could work for a couple of hours, help pay bills, and still be there when you got home." His smile was reminiscent of the innocent child he'd once been. "I was going to make you love me. I was going to give you a home, something to come back to. I was going to tell you, and you were supposed to tell me that you loved me."
A lone tear slipped down his pale cheek, and he let it go, turning his unfocused gaze to Daisuke's left. Daisuke looked at him, repeating the last half of the last sentence through his mind. How many times had he said that, about his loving Takeru? His anger was gone, and he felt empty. "Is this my fault?"
It was simply asked, no force or emphasis behind it, but the blonde jerked back as if hit. "No! No. It was never your fault. I screwed up. I sold myself, and then thought I could find redemption by buying you. See, I thought you would have to love me, if I gave you enough. I tried to buy your love with my affections, and myself. I wanted you to be as tainted as I was."*
If I couldn't have you give your love to me, I'd take it anyway it was offered. I needed you, loved you, longed for you, knowing that I would never have your heart.
Miyako knows, and we've talked about it. She told me once that I should try to get over you. Four years later, she told me I should go after you. This year, she told me I should tell you the truth. I couldn't do anything.
*Daisuke looked at him with something akin to shock. He stepped forward, cupping the tearstained face with his tanned palms. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was afraid that you'd leave me. I would rather have you with a lie, than lose you because of my attempt to keep you." He smiled tremelously. "It made more sense five years ago."
"Takeru." He spoke very seriously, wanting to understand. "Why do you think that I hadn't given my heart to you five years ago?" He frowned at the pain, that passed through the blue eyes held captive with his own.
"Because you loved Ken." His answer was raw, and his lean body trembled. "Because I caught you on the rebound, and never gave you a chance to leave. Because you would never say anything more than 'I know', when I'd whisper my love to you in the dark."
"And because I never told you otherwise, you assumed that I didn't return your feelings?"*
You're going to break me today, when you walk away. I know you will. I can feel it. In the air, in your gaze, in the hands holding my face. You're going to leave, and I'm going to fall into a crumpled heap, knowing that I've screwed up again.
I should have denied it, should have said that he lied, and then told you something else, anything. Anything but the truth. You may not hate me, and you may have once loved me, which is what I think is next, but you won't stay. Not with me.
Have you ever woken up, in the middle of the night, and had that gut-instinct that the it was raining? You can't hear it, and you can't tell by the light in the room, but you know. You will leave me to live with myself, and the lonely life I've wrought for myselft, simply because that's what's right. I don't deserve you, or the second chance I tried to give myself.
Hell, I can't forgive half the shit I've done, why should you?
*Takeru straightened up and pulled back from the redhead. "I assumed you didn't feel the same way when you refused to do anything more than fuck me, and let me sleep in your arms. That was the price. I got to be screwed by another man, and yes, there have been many, one that I loved. And you only had to let me sleep next to you the rest of the night."
Daisuke looked like he'd been slapped. Between clenched teeth, he growled. "Excuse me?"
"You were the same as the rest. For the opportunity to be near you, I gave you my body, in the hope that you would love me. And for the opportunity to sleep with you, in you, beside you, I gave up any hope that you would ever love me. Because I knew." The tears fell quickly, and he let them fall, his hands limp at his side. "I knew that it wouldn't matter when you knew. It was a fairy tale, a child's dream. I could do whatever I wanted, because my prince would heal all the wrongs."
Brown eyes glared at him before the redhead turned away, walking toward the door.
"And the price for letting you go was knowing that you'd find someone who deserved you." He stopped, his hand on the door. "I was letting you go. When I sent that invite, half of me wanted so badly for you to come, and the other half begged with fate to let you stay. If you had stayed, I could live with the hope that you had found your other half. If you came, I had to face the fact that you had found it with me, and I'd thrown it away."*
Again. I can't see more than your blurry outline, but I know that you're at the door. See, I told you I knew. But I was so wrong about the rest.
You did love me, didn't you? And I pushed you away, because I had dug myself into a hole, and was too frighted to ask for help. You loved me, and I sold your love.
*Daisuke said nothing, simply stood in the hallway. He could see the crying blonde behind him, out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry. For dragging you here, and making you deal with this. I'm sorry that I screwed up, then and now, and I'm sorry that I couldn't let you get on with your life." Footsteps retreated into the bowels of the apartment, and a door shut gently. He was left with the knob in his hand, and his own thoughts.
Leave, and get on with his life. It would be easier. No past mistakes, no added complications, no moody, depressed, sobbing lovers needing to be held and cared for constantly.
Stay, and deal with the jealousy that would come, and the pain of having his mistakes thrown up in his face. Be smothered by the love he had once cherished, and fight for the small liberties and freedoms he'd become accustomed to.
It was a hard decision.
*paragraphs*-3rd person, present action.
Title: Break the Cycle-Fade (POV Takeru)
____________________________
//It was never meant to fade away
Never meant to fade//
That I loved him, was never the question. My trust and faith in him came to be in doubt, but I knew, always, that I would love him forever. The reason behind the fighting, my accusations, that I know he's remembered since he arrived today, is the simple fact that: I never believed he loved me.
I got him on the rebound.
*The drive was completed in silence, neither man wanting to hold the eminent discussion while driving through the middle of Odaiba.*
It was my luck that he fell for his Jogress partner. For me, the connection I held with Iori was more of a brotherhood, a kinship. Daisuke fell in love. With a straight boy, who in turn, is going to marry a woman. He has already proposed to Miya, and I know he knows.
Today, it was almost like old times. Discounting my brother and his new lover. Figures, my brother and I would have the same idea. We both wanted to have another chance. To make peace with our friends, and, hopefully, to reunite with the one person that we have ever loved. It worked for him, but I can still feel the bitterness in Dai.
*They passed outside the city, heading towards Heightonview Terrace. It was a short drive.*
And, of course, it was not like he ever loved me to begin with. I was there to fall back on when Ken broke his heart, the bastard. For Dai, I was more than willing. I had waited for him, first with his infatuation with Hikari, then through what I had always assumed was another 'crush'. But it was more than that. I watched the pain glaze his eyes, saw the listless way he acted for those first four or so weeks.
Picked up the pieces, held him while he cried, listened to him listing every single one of Ichijouji's virtues. Despite his heartbreak and pain, he could still see no flaw in the genius. And I stayed silent, feeling a pain similar to his, knowing that I could never replace his best friend, or his heart.
*They pulled into the parking lot, and in front of Takeru's building. At the same time, they got out of the car, and started lugging out the coolers.*
The day I asked him out, and he said yes, I nearly died in surprise. We started dating in what, our first year of college? That's about right. It lasted two beautiful, wonderful, short years. There are times that I think I would have been better off, never having the chance to hold and love him. At night, still, I have trouble sleeping, remembering his scent, and the feel of him in my arms.
//I just needed someone to talk to
You were just too busy with yourself//
*They made it inside, and to the elevators in one trip. Luckily, there was no one in the lobby to see them both lugging in two coolers apiece. They dropped them at the doors, and then looked at each other, smiling at their own stupidity. For a moment, it seemed like times before. Daisuke stopped smiling, and Takeru hit the button.*
He was a great lover, and a wonderful boyfriend, while he lasted. it was the greatest time of my life, waking up to him, sometimes in the middle of the night. To find him there, with his arms around me, or mine around him. Beyond heaven. The memory alone is enough to offer some comfort, if I don't remember what came after.
Of course, it's as hard to forget the bad parts as it is the good. Example, I remember stopping him from slitting his wrists when Ken rejected him. I talked him out of it, and I let him pour his heart out to me. All his love, unreturned, his affections, refused, his pride, trampled. That's when we became the best of friends, in high school, because I kept him alive.
Little did he know, that he kept me alive as well.
*The elevator up was consumed by the sound of soft music, and the grind of machinery.*
It came full circle while he was gone. In high school, I was his lifeline. In college, he was mine. He never knew about the job I actually had, the one that enabled me to write, and sell my stories. I couldn't tell him, and he didn't ask, always assumed that it was just luck. I was lucky, alright.
Look at me now, this man with golden hair, and sapphire eyes, who grins the grin of hope, and then at the boy I was, the same hair, the same eyes, and the same grin, and then let me tell you that I sold it all. My virginity, that I always told Dai went to a boy in high school, was bought by a middle aged man when I was nineteen.
I hadn't sold a one of my books, until Dai left me. The money that I got for my 'writing', while we were still together, came from the selling of my body. My soul, my heart, have always been his, but my body has never been mine.
Matt would have a fit, hearing this.
*They stepped out on the fifth floor, and lugged the coolers down the hall. Takeru searched through his pockets for his keys, then remembered that he'd given them to his brother.
"I've got mine." Daisuke pulled out his, and the blonde watched as he opened the door, blue eyes gazing sadly at the key in his tanned hand.*
Yes, I'm aware that there are better professions, and more opportunities, but at the time, it was something I could do that would allow me to be there when he got home. I could cook for him, clean for him, and be there for him. I had hoped, too, that he would quit one of his jobs after the 'book deal' came.
Wrong, I know. He would never allow anyone to support him, not financially. I should have realized that sooner, but I was caught up in the moment, that I didn't even feel 'dirty' until the day he came home with lipstick on his collar, and I realized how it would look if he ever found out. I was upset, at myself, and I took it out on him. Hell, the misunderstanding with the girl was nothing, compared to the guilt I felt when I saw the shock on his face at my refusal to listen to what had happened.
//You were never there for me to
Express how I felt//
If you ask me now, who's to blame for our breakup, I'll tell you me. I was jealous, and I shouldn't have been. I knew, as I know now, that he would never cheat on me, but I was hurting, and the pain was increasing each day. I knew, but I needed a reason.
Take away his loyalty, and his belief in all things honorable, and what other reason did he have to stay with me? I wanted the words. I needed to hear that he loved me too, if just a little. I wanted a return of the feelings I had, instead of just his body.
The little bastard that tried to split us up got the shit beat out of him the day after Daisuke left me. And he wondered why I was jealous? Take one look at the little punk that told me he was having an affair with my lover, and you'll know.
Long, inky black hair, violet eyes, and a pale complexion. Rather nice, on the outside. He looked like a certain genius I know. Add to that the fact that his voice was moderate like Ken's and he had similar mannerisms, and it's no wonder that I believed it was possible. It was his own first love, again. Only willing, this time.
Hateful? Yes. I knew it then, I know it now. He wasn't Ken, and Daisuke wasn't in love with him. At the time, however, I was in deep depression, and hiding it too well. I wanted the love of a man in love with another, and I felt insecure and incomplete without it. I expected too much of him, without ever giving him what he needed from me in return. I could never understand why he couldn't see what I offered him, if only he would accept me.
I understand now.
*It was in silence that they entered the apartment and headed for the kitchen. They put the food and items away in the same companionalbe quiet, avoiding physical contact, and each other's gaze.*
Five years ago, I was a silly, romantic fool who wanted it all, one who couldn't accept less. I would now. I would accept his friendship, if it was all he offered. I would take his body, if given the chance. Should he offer me his back, and another goodbye, I'll accept that, too. Life goes on, I've learned that, too.
I didn't know it, then. Two months after he left our apartment, I sat in the bathroom, a blade to my wrist. I didn't want to know a life without him, a home without his presence. As luck should have it, it was Ken who found me. Ken who held me, and soothed me. Fate is cruel. I had done the same thing two years before for the boy who's heart he'd broken with is words, and his inability to love him the way he wanted.
Ironic, isn't it?
//I just stuffed it down
Now I'm older and I feel like
I could let some of the anger fade//
*"You wanted to talk, so talk." Daisuke leaned against the counter, everything in it's place. Takeru had nowhere to hide, nothing to put this off any longer.
"Sure." He leaned against the wall, facing the redhead. With a sigh, he met his eyes. And said nothing.*
A day. If only he had waited a day, I could have told him I was sorry. We used to make up in the night, because we never saw each other in the day. Instead of greeting him in apology, I fell asleep on the couch. I hadn't wanted to just fall into bed, letting the chance go by without telling him my side. I wanted him to know, so badly. I was going to tell him everything.
Prostitution, with clients of both genders. Going through each day, knowing I'd have to lie to him when he got home. Sitting in class with people who had bought me, teachers who eyed me in apprehension when they realized who I was.
I hoped, someplace in my heart, that he would love me, and that his love would make me clean. Isn't that what love did? Cleansed the soul and purified the body? I had such high hopes, and I slept through them all. I knew it when I woke up in the morning, and he was gone. I debated whether I should go to class, or wait for him. I decided on class, figuring I'd have another chance to solve it.
*Blue eyes slipped away, the man unable to utter a single thought in his heart, due to the thickness of his throat. Daisuke watched him, patiently impatient. He had never been one to wait.
"Takeru?" He was too busy to fight the tears to answer the inquiry. The redhead was only mildly worried. "We really should discuss this."
"I know." He drew in a shaky breath, letting his gaze slip back. "I'm sorry. For letting you believe five years ago that I had so little faith in you."
"I don't understand."
"Five years ago, I accused you of cheating on me and lying to me. I knew you hadn't, but I couldn't admit that. I'm sorry." That was a good place to start.
"Thank you." He blinked, not expecting that exact admission. "I'm sorry for telling a stranger our problems."*
So, let's see. Suicide attempts, prostitution, emotional abuse, and insecurity. Oh yeah, I'm a great catch. I can see Daisuke jumping at a chance to get me back.
//But it seems the surface
I am scratching
Is the bed that I have made//
*"He contacted me." Daisuke continued. "After I left. He called the hotel I was staying in, and told me a bunch of things. I wanted to kill him." The anger was evident in his voice.
"What did he say?" Takeru was half-afraid of the answer. He remembered vaguely beating he crap out of the scrawny, starving artist, and hollering a lot. He could also recall some rather just accusations being thrown his way, for which the loser had paid for with a broken rib, and split lip. He hadn't denied the truth, he simply made the jerk wish he would.
Daisuke looked at him, his brown eyes sad, his lips pursed. "I think you know." They looked at each other, the truth another wall between them.
Takeru grinned without mirth, his own lips twisting. He shrugged, looking at the ceiling. His eyes were moist by that time.*
The pain on his face was killing me. He was told, but never believed it. He thought the best of me, despite everything. And now, I've ruined every illusion he's ever held of Takaishi Takeru. That was rather easy, too.
Do you hate me, Daisuke? For being a whore? For sullying the bed we shared with the memories of other lovers, lovers who are faceless and nameless, but were there? Can you forgive me for that? I knew you were better than that, and that's why I never actually came after you. Your silence was like my penance, my punishment for the shame I brought myself. Each unanswered letter was another lash against the sin that covered my body, and rode my conscious.
*"You bastard." Takeru didn't bother looking away from the cobweb in the corner. "You hypocritical, fucking asshole!"*
Score: Motomiya-two, Takaishi-none.
*"How dare you! All those times you looked at me as if I was carrying some disease, simply because you were jealous enough to believe I'd do that, and you were..." He broke off, unalbe to say it.
Blue eyes flicked down. "I was...what? Fucking anything that moved and had money? Selling my soul and my body for nothing, when I could have had a good, decent job? Accusing you of doing half of what I did on a daily basis, even though I knew you were innocent? I dared very easily, Daisuke, because I thought it would work out in the end." He raised and hand, palm up, in a defeated gesture.
"And how was that going to happen, Takeru? How?" He was pissed. His eyes flashed, his cheeks were flushed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist.
"You were going to make everything better." That made the redhead draw in his breath sharply. "You were going to be my salvation, my guiding light." The blonde smiled, licking his lips. He looked like a defeated man, standing there, his shoulders bent. "You were going to love me, despite everything, and I was going to get out of it, because I wouldn't need that type of money anymore."
"You didn't need it to begin with! We were doing alright, financially." Daisuke ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His chest felt heavy, and he was having trouble seeing through the moisture in his eyes.
"But, if I had a normal job, I'd never be home, like you. I wanted so badly to be with you, to be near you. That way, I could work for a couple of hours, help pay bills, and still be there when you got home." His smile was reminiscent of the innocent child he'd once been. "I was going to make you love me. I was going to give you a home, something to come back to. I was going to tell you, and you were supposed to tell me that you loved me."
A lone tear slipped down his pale cheek, and he let it go, turning his unfocused gaze to Daisuke's left. Daisuke looked at him, repeating the last half of the last sentence through his mind. How many times had he said that, about his loving Takeru? His anger was gone, and he felt empty. "Is this my fault?"
It was simply asked, no force or emphasis behind it, but the blonde jerked back as if hit. "No! No. It was never your fault. I screwed up. I sold myself, and then thought I could find redemption by buying you. See, I thought you would have to love me, if I gave you enough. I tried to buy your love with my affections, and myself. I wanted you to be as tainted as I was."*
If I couldn't have you give your love to me, I'd take it anyway it was offered. I needed you, loved you, longed for you, knowing that I would never have your heart.
Miyako knows, and we've talked about it. She told me once that I should try to get over you. Four years later, she told me I should go after you. This year, she told me I should tell you the truth. I couldn't do anything.
*Daisuke looked at him with something akin to shock. He stepped forward, cupping the tearstained face with his tanned palms. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was afraid that you'd leave me. I would rather have you with a lie, than lose you because of my attempt to keep you." He smiled tremelously. "It made more sense five years ago."
"Takeru." He spoke very seriously, wanting to understand. "Why do you think that I hadn't given my heart to you five years ago?" He frowned at the pain, that passed through the blue eyes held captive with his own.
"Because you loved Ken." His answer was raw, and his lean body trembled. "Because I caught you on the rebound, and never gave you a chance to leave. Because you would never say anything more than 'I know', when I'd whisper my love to you in the dark."
"And because I never told you otherwise, you assumed that I didn't return your feelings?"*
You're going to break me today, when you walk away. I know you will. I can feel it. In the air, in your gaze, in the hands holding my face. You're going to leave, and I'm going to fall into a crumpled heap, knowing that I've screwed up again.
I should have denied it, should have said that he lied, and then told you something else, anything. Anything but the truth. You may not hate me, and you may have once loved me, which is what I think is next, but you won't stay. Not with me.
Have you ever woken up, in the middle of the night, and had that gut-instinct that the it was raining? You can't hear it, and you can't tell by the light in the room, but you know. You will leave me to live with myself, and the lonely life I've wrought for myselft, simply because that's what's right. I don't deserve you, or the second chance I tried to give myself.
Hell, I can't forgive half the shit I've done, why should you?
*Takeru straightened up and pulled back from the redhead. "I assumed you didn't feel the same way when you refused to do anything more than fuck me, and let me sleep in your arms. That was the price. I got to be screwed by another man, and yes, there have been many, one that I loved. And you only had to let me sleep next to you the rest of the night."
Daisuke looked like he'd been slapped. Between clenched teeth, he growled. "Excuse me?"
"You were the same as the rest. For the opportunity to be near you, I gave you my body, in the hope that you would love me. And for the opportunity to sleep with you, in you, beside you, I gave up any hope that you would ever love me. Because I knew." The tears fell quickly, and he let them fall, his hands limp at his side. "I knew that it wouldn't matter when you knew. It was a fairy tale, a child's dream. I could do whatever I wanted, because my prince would heal all the wrongs."
Brown eyes glared at him before the redhead turned away, walking toward the door.
"And the price for letting you go was knowing that you'd find someone who deserved you." He stopped, his hand on the door. "I was letting you go. When I sent that invite, half of me wanted so badly for you to come, and the other half begged with fate to let you stay. If you had stayed, I could live with the hope that you had found your other half. If you came, I had to face the fact that you had found it with me, and I'd thrown it away."*
Again. I can't see more than your blurry outline, but I know that you're at the door. See, I told you I knew. But I was so wrong about the rest.
You did love me, didn't you? And I pushed you away, because I had dug myself into a hole, and was too frighted to ask for help. You loved me, and I sold your love.
*Daisuke said nothing, simply stood in the hallway. He could see the crying blonde behind him, out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry. For dragging you here, and making you deal with this. I'm sorry that I screwed up, then and now, and I'm sorry that I couldn't let you get on with your life." Footsteps retreated into the bowels of the apartment, and a door shut gently. He was left with the knob in his hand, and his own thoughts.
Leave, and get on with his life. It would be easier. No past mistakes, no added complications, no moody, depressed, sobbing lovers needing to be held and cared for constantly.
Stay, and deal with the jealousy that would come, and the pain of having his mistakes thrown up in his face. Be smothered by the love he had once cherished, and fight for the small liberties and freedoms he'd become accustomed to.
It was a hard decision.