Genre: Romance/Angst {one-shot}
Rating: PG-13 - R {for utter kinkiness}
Pairing: yaoi
Warning: Uhhh ... might be OOC? My kudos to all Haruko-bashers. No-plot songfic.
Notes: Spur of the moment idea as I was creating an OC for a ficcie ... I've been plagued by writer's block on my HP fics (*wails*)! And currently been bitten by the SD and Saiyuki bug so ... (peace sign) Tensai! Yeah, and Murasaki Hisoka is mine. If you want him/her, e-mail me.
The song (Dream) turned poem is by Sisquo. I kinda tweaked it a little to fit the guys.
Dedix goes to Muse-san. You know who you are. And my OC. Hi Kenken!
"... Two perpendicular rays form four right angles, according to Theorem 4-9. Does everybody understand that? Turn to page ..."
Mito Youhei sighed, trying to hide his yawn from their sensei, who, for some unfortunate twist of fate, had just noticed that a certain student was not listening to his lecture.
Sakuragi Hanamichi was staring desolately outside the window, broodingly, idly tapping his foot in an unarticulated rhythm, oblivious to the world around him. He looked just a bit drowsy. He frowned slightly, glancing at his redhead friend. Since he had been injured during the Summer Inter High, Hanamichi had put all of his effort in catching up and improving his basketball skills, to make up for the time he spent in therapy. The problem is, he almost always falls asleep in class. But Youhei could sense that that was mainly not the case now.
"RUKAWA! RUKAWA KAEDE!"
Youhei sweatdropped, while some of the girls in their class actually stood up, and would have sprinted all the way to Class 10, had they forgotten about the word 'SHAME'. Everybody in the same floor heard the enraged hollering, from five classrooms away. It seemed like Hanamichi wasn't the only one pushing himself to the limit, practicing basketball. And dozing off frequently, for that matter.
The all-too familiar snapping noise resonated in the silence, bringing him back to the situation at hand; flecks of chalk fluttered gracefully to the floor. Youhei turned sharply to look at their sensei. A vein on Tanaka-sensei's temple was fatally close to rupturing.
Uh-oh ...
'I am sick and tired of having that redhead not listening to me!' Tanaka fumed silently, gritting his teeth. 'We'll see ...'
Venting his anger on the one of the most volatile student he ever taught, their sensei snapped the hardbound textbook, making the class jump.
"SAKURAGI HANAMICHI! Give the reasons for the proving of Question 3-7!"
The class was filled with murmurs and titters. Everyone knew that the redhead was one of the worst students at Geometry. And the item happened to be advanced for any of them.
Youhei, looking worriedly at him, braced himself for an outburst of Hanamichi's fury, making himself ready in case he had to restrain him from head-butting the sensei. Or go berserk, head-butt all of them, tear the classroom up. But, of all the situations he anticipated, Hanamichi reacted in the most impossible way.
He answered in a civil manner.
"Definition of Congruency, Definition of Right Angles, Vertical Angle Theorem, Supplement Theorem, Transitivity, Definition of Perpendicular Lines ..."
Not to mention that he had the correct answer.
His classmates stared at him in disbelief and awe, jaws hanging open. Tanaka-sensei's knees buckled underneath him; he had to support himself on the table of their overreacting resident A+ student, Murasaki Hisoka, who had fainted.
A pin dropped, clanging horribly as it hit the floor.
Irritated by their reaction, Sakuragi sat down abruptly. Not even bothering to glare, he stared out the window wordlessly, tapping his pen against his cheek. There were no crows of "Ore wa tensai! Nyahahahahaha ...", no "What the hell's wrong with you?!", just a 'if-you-want-a-painful-death-mess-with-me' look on his gloomily pensive face.
"Che."
I've only seen him a few times like that ... whenever Haruko shows signs of dumping him. Youhei bit his lip, brows furrowed. I don't think she did. So what's his problem now?
It took a while before anyone got over the shock. But when they did, the class immediately launched into speculative conversation.
"Sugoi! Sakuragi-kun managed to answer that question! Did you know that Hisoka-kun's having difficulty in those kinds of questions?"
"Kakkoii, ne, Sakuragi-kun wa."
Hanamichi's pen-tapping now switched from the left cheek to the right cheek, unmindful of the compliments.
Hanamichi ... what's wrong with you?!
"Che."
What the hell's wrong with me?
Hanamichi sat down after answering the question, seeing nothing as he stared out the window, tapping a pen against his cheek.
A smug chibi-Hana, in red and black boxers (Shohoku colors *_*'), smiled at him, coquettish.
[Hana, Hana, Hana. You're thinking about the dream you had, of course, yet for the nth time this morning.] Chibi-Hana smirked. [You craved his intoxicatingly sweet breath, the feeling of his lips against yours, your tongue intertwining, teeth clashing ... the planes of toned muscle taut, supple and pliant, sensitive to your touch ... your ecstatic moans when he entered you at last in a deliciously slow and fulfilling thrust, pleasure emanating from your deepest being ...]
Switching cheeks where he tapped his pen, Hanamichi conjured the image of Uozumi wearing Ayako's chic attire, which took care of the tightness in his pants and the thoughts invoked by his 'other self'.
Chibi-Hana pouted. [Killjoy.] He snapped his fingers. [Yosh'! Eyes of the darkest blue, alluring spheres of sapphire, enticingly deep, enchanting pools that could rival the sea, feral with a hunger ... his hair, silken strands of sable, lustrous and soft as midnight ... skin luminescent beneath the moonlight, flushed with desire ... only for you ...]
Shut up with the poetry crap! Hanamichi fumed. Teme, kisama urusei! Yarou! I am supposed to be NOT thinking about him, and I intend to keep it that way! You're not helping so urusei!
[You rhymed, if you hadn't noticed,] Chibi-Hana commented. ['Shut up with the poetry crap!' thingy?]
Urusei. "Che."
I like Haruko-san. Haruko-san. Haruko-san ... daikirai. Eh? Iya! Daisuki. Daisuki, Haruko-san. Haruko-san. Demo ...
[Can't stop thinking about him, can you?] Chibi-Hana leered. He pranced around Hanamichi's mind, dodging the redhead's futile attempts of trying to head-butt him.
"Che."
He suddenly tore a sheet of notebook paper, which made everyone stare at him. Tanaka-sensei cleared his throat. No one paid attention. He opened the hardbound textbook and shut it. The class, startled, went back to the lesson, rather shakily.
"Che." He stared blankly at the paper before him, contemplating.
[You can draw him, you know. Surely, you still remember his body ... especially the way it felt ...] Chibi-Hana struck the 'ore wa tensai' pose. [And remember how he looked so damned uke-ish when tied down spread-eagled, silver cuffs enhancing the wanton light in his eyes ...]
"Che."
[... Him begging and gagged, while you unfurl your whip ...]
I'm not listening to you, and I didn't that.
He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. He never had been good at literary, but he will try now. Anything would be worth trying just to get HIM out of his mind.
Poetry crap, eh?
Stupid.
"Che."
That I'm not in love with you, and then
You came to me in a dream
He paused, staring at the stanza he had written.
[Not bad for a beginner, ne, Tensai?] Chibi-Hana smiled.
Hanamichi sharply recalled, albeit unwillingly, the dreams that had been plaguing him the past week; the most recent was last night and the most ... 'disturbing'. He blushed.
"Che."
Chortling, his inner self shook his head. [You enjoyed it. Especially the bondage part and leather-striptease ...]
"Che."
There was nothing I could do to stop it
Even though you're with somebody else
Why does it have to happen to me?
Chibi-Hana sighed. [Because you were the ones destined to be together, baka yarou.]
Hanamichi did not bother retorting. Why do you have to be with him? If we were meant to be, why do you have to be with someone else?
Chibi-Hana patted him on the back soothingly. [Nothing is ever easy, Tensai.]
The color of your eyes, the scent of your hair
I know dreams are not reality
But you're so real, so real to me
"Ore wa tensai basuketto-man/Sakuragi Hanamichi ..."
Youhei quirked an eyebrow. "Genki da ne, Hanamichi."
Striking his 'Tensai' pose, he laughed. "But of course, Youhei! The tensai is always happy! Nyahahahahaha ..."
Youhei got a thoughtful look on his face as he studied his actions. "You were ... disturbed ... on our Geometry class ... Mite, it's Haruko-chan!" Then he snapped his fingers. "Okay. Not her."
"Doko, doko, doko e, Haruko-san wa?"
He sweatdropped, then straightened up almost immediately. With a scrutinizing eye, Youhei watched as Hanamichi went chibi and searched within a foot radius. The reaction looked like out of habit, and the expression ... fake.
"Hanamichi ..."
"Eh?" he stopped, cocking his head questioningly.
"Is there something going on ... ?" Youhei left the statement hanging.
"Nandemonai, Youhei, trust the tensai!"
The boisterous tone was there, as was the hesitant flickering in the eye contact that he did not miss.
I couldn't see that you're always there for me
Remembering the time that we shared together
Come clear to me one night ... I am in love
"Ne, minna," Youhei started, gazing at the redhead as he was shooting lay-ups. "Have you noticed that Hanamichi's being ... weird lately?"
Takamiya reply was barely intelligible through the food he was chewing. "Hanamichi's always weird, since the start."
"Hai, hai!" Noma nodded in assent. Ookusu grimaced. "Demo, he's getting weirder, answering Tanaka-sensei correctly ..."
"Must be the end of the world ..."
They lapsed into silence as Hanamichi performed at a professional-level, keeping a cool head and managing to impress Miyagi Ryouta, Shohoku's new captain.
"It looks like Hanamichi's finally over Haruko," Youhei suddenly commented out of the blue. The others goggled at him like goldfish.
Takamiya burst out laughing, joined by the other two, almost spraying Ookusu with chewed gohan. "Impossible."
"Yeah, that's what I thought ... before I saw it with my own eyes. He's been in this state for the past few days ..."
Suddenly struck by a thought, Noma wondered out loud. "Maybe he's been dumped ..."
"For the 51st time!" Takamiya and Ookusu chorused, bursting into fits of contagious laughter. The three threw confetti around, creating a ruckus around a thoughtful-looking Youhei.
"Iya ..." he said slowly, as if unsure and repeating the statement to himself. "I don't think that's the case this time."
"Eh?"
"I think ..." The others looked at him in anticipation. Youhei opened his mouth to speak, then sighed.
"Ah, nandemonai! Don't mind me ..."
I think Hanamichi's really in love. He bit his lip, brow furrowed. But with whom?
Woke up with tears and pillows wet
I'm drowning in a river of loneliness
If only you can save me now
"Hana ..."
Everything except his pounding heart ground to an abrupt halt, breath caught in his throat, a suffocating anticipation. Piercing eyes of an azure hue beckoning, their lips met, then that was what he only could feel, scorching, an exquisite pleasure terrifyingly overwhelming; eternal agony coalescing with infinite pleasure that it hurt, a lot. Purest of pain.
At last, he pulled away, and there, Hanamichi's unspoken question was answered by those captivating sapphire orbs.
"Koishiteru, Hana."
'Matte ... !' A single teardrop made its way down his cheek, traveling in a wavering streak; he made no motion to brush it off. Onegai ... don't leave it hanging like this ...
"Naitenai ... wasurenaide ... Koishiteru, zutto ..." he smiled. "I will always be with you ... my Hana ..."
"Chotto matte!"
"My Hana ..." his voice had faded, resounding in his thoughts. Only in his mind.
"Matte!"
... don't leave me ...
All was dark, and only a single emotion made itself known to him.
"Matte!"
Despair.
... aishiteru ...
Hanamichi eyes flashed open, bloodshot brown eyes wide. He bolted upright, breathing hard, his body covered in a cold sweat. He raked a trembling hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as the familiar surroundings of his bedroom swam into focus.
It was just a dream, Hanamichi.
His entire body was still shaking vehemently as he covered his eyes with his palms, his raging imagination unable to be hindered, and the reality of his dream coursed through his veins like poison. His mind in absolute upheaval, he tried to calm himself, in vain. The dream replayed in his mind over and over again.
The skin luminescent in the moonlight, fair face beckoning, accentuated by silken strands of sable, splayed like a halo around his angelic features.
Him, of the bluest eyes.
A night of passion, an unspoken bond, promises untold. A caress. A kiss.
But as it always had been. Just another dream.
He touched his face gently, feeling the moisture trickling down his fingers. Tears.
The tears are always real.
Disturbingly, the dreams were getting steadily more angsty, though not at all devoid of sensuality. There were the hands, fingers, and the delightfully delicious friction their bodies create ...
Hanamichi shook his head vigorously to clear the images conjured by his mind. The B&D scene was bad enough ...
He took a deep calming breath, which did him no good.
Ore wa Tensai ... demo ...
A dream is a wish the heart makes. A dream is a desire impalpably fierce, forbidden, impossible.
He buried his face in his already tear-soaked pillow, and cried deeply.
Tasukette ...
To let you know how I feel inside
'Coz it's so obvious and hard to hide
"Youhei ..."
Hanamichi sighed. He had rehearsed this conversation in his head a thousand times already, but still, he found it difficult to place in words. Youhei was looking at him quizzically.
"Eh?" he prompted.
Fidgeting, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, debating with himself. Youhei smiled.
"You're in love. But not with Haruko."
The cool delivery of the matter-of-fact statement made Hanamichi's head snap up. Mimicking a goldfish, he managed to stutter. "How ...?"
He shrugged. "I kind of figured it out by myself." He tapped his forefinger against his temple. "Best friends' intuition."
"Damn your insightful self," Hanamichi said flatly. He drew himself up and glared balefully. "The Tensai had rehearsed on how to tell you and now ... !" He sighed wearily, covering his eyes with his hands, disgusted by his own antics. "Yeah. Cut the bullshit. Anou ... I'm in love ... well, I think I am ... with ..." he made some wild gesture with his hands that took Youhei a while to digest.
"Huh?"
"Shounen. Aoi hitomi," Hanamichi said desperately, still moving his arms around, raising his eyebrows, expectant.
Eyebrow quirking, Youhei tapped his chin. "Hanamichi, there are many ..." then, it hit him. "You don't mean ..." he mimed shooting a fade away shot and mouthing the name. "Him?"
The redhead almost screeched; it came out like a strangled howl. "It sure took you damned long enough!"
Youhei just smiled at him. "Well, realizing what you felt for him, and that you actually liked him, certainly took you well enough too, didn't it?"
"Would you stop rubbing it in?" He sat down, sighing, frustrated. "I don't know. I just don't know."
He stared at him, commiserating. "So what happens to Haruko now?" he also sat down, facing the redhead.
"Die for all I care?" [A/N: I just have to put that!!!] He shrugged. "Seriously though, she's a friend. A special friend. I guess ... I'll continue on caring for her the way that I do ..."
They sat in silence for a while, both mulling over their thoughts. It was Youhei who broke the ice.
"At least I was right."
Hanamichi goggled at him. "Nani?"
Youhei raised his eyebrows. "The reason why girls don't like to go out with you. I mean, being notorious is supposed to be hot, right? Cut the crap about your red hair. Your looks are ... anou ... You're caring and sweet ..."
"Hey, what are you implying about the Tensai's looks?!"
"The point is," he started, before Hanamichi could give him a fatal headbutt, "You're desirable enough. But why don't girls go out with you?"
"They're taken by more desirable guys."
Youhei nodded. "Yarou! You weren't supposed to agree!" He dodged the headbutt.
"Its because they sensed that you were bi, inclined to guys."
Hanamichi glared at him. "What kind of bullshit is that."
"The kind that makes it only bullshit because it's so damn true but impossible?" He stretched. "This will be a change. At least I don't have to listen about sickening stuff about Haruko ... he, on the other hand ..."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
Youhei looked at him, nonplussed. "I didn't say anything."
"Don't bullshit me."
Youhei just smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned comfortably against the ancient sakura trunk.
"Teme, Youhei! Don't give me a Rukawa treatment! Yarou, don't sleep!"
The color of your eyes, the scent of your hair
I know dreams are not reality
But you're so real, so real to me
"You actually wrote this?" Youhei indicated the poem Hanamichi was working on with a wave of a finger. The redhead frowned.
"Un. On an impulse ... after I answered the Geometry question ..." Worriedly, he peered over his shoulder, scrutinizing his work. "Does it suck that much?"
Hiding a smile, he looked at him. "I wouldn't dare tell the Tensai the truth -- I mean -- that! That it sucks. 'Coz it doesn't. No, really."
He put on a long-suffering face. "You're just trying to be nice to me ..."
"So what are you going to do about ..." he skimmed the poem for the umpteenth time, eyes sweeping over the lines. "This?"
He sighed. "Betsuni. I mean ... he has a kareshi already ... I've got no chance competing against ..." he groaned the name in frustration.
Youhei quirked an eyebrow. "Those two? How can you be sure --"
"I saw the two of them together often enough," Hanamichi cut in swiftly. "It kills, Youhei, it kills," he added slowly.
He fell silent. Youhei reread the poem.
"What if he feels the same ...?"
Hanamichi snorted disgustedly. "Don't I just wish," he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hm ... there was a hint of a thoughtful smile on his pursed lips. There's only one way to find out ...
I couldn't see that you're always there for me
Remembering the time that we shared together
Come clear to me one night ... I am in love
"Sendou-san! Rukawa! Mitsui-san!" Damn ... isn't that Koshino? Shit! Fujima!
Youhei, clutching a stitch in his side, finally caught up with their easy strides; they paused, allowing him to catch his breath.
He thrust an envelope out, not looking up since he was sure that he delivered it to the right person.
"Nan da yo, kore?"
Youhei smiled. "Just read it." At those words, he waved an adieu and briskly went to his way.
Blue eyes scanned the envelop, resting on the name written in a string of unfamiliar characters, the sender's name rendered in the English alphabet. Pupils widening and irises intensifying, he stuffed it in his pocket, murmuring thanks.
[A/N: If you noticed, there are 5 guys with blue eyes, excluding Youhei. *.*']
And what can I do, what can I say
To let you know that I feel the same?
"What the fucking hell ...!" Hanamichi shook Youhei by the shoulders. "You did ...?!"
"Sakuragi Hanamichi, practice!" there was a very distinguishable whack in the air, formidable. The Paper Fan of Doom. "Double time!!!"
At Hanamichi's murderous expression a he was being led away by Ayako, Youhei lost no time to run for his life.
Grumbling, Hanamichi stepped out of the shower that evening, after strenuous training, cursing his bad luck. He trusted that stupid poem to Youhei and now ... he said he lost it. Lost. The. Poem.
He headbutted the wall.
That was when he spied a piece of paper sticking out of his locker. Curious and totally oblivious to the current state of his undress, he snatched the all too familiar sheet, and with relief, he had proven his suspicions. It was his poem. All in --
There was something else, foreign, a different handwriting and pen ink from his. He stared at it disbelieving, unblinking, as if closing his eyes even in that scant instant would make the words disappear.
'Coz I know I can't be wrong
And my dreams, they can't be wrong
Somebody, as it seemed from Hanamichi's perspective, suddenly materialized a few feet away from him. His spiky hair was glistening wet, and he was now staring at Hanamichi clutching the piece of paper.
He. HE. HE. They stood there, regarding each other silently. Hanamichi finally stirred out of his stupor, blinking, staring at the captivating eyes of sapphire from his dreams, now his reality.
"Do'ahou."
Rukawa Kaede.
The color of your eyes, the scent of your hair
I know dreams are not reality
But you're so real, so real to me
"Teme." His voice lacked the venom, the spirit, coming out as something almost wistful. "Were you the one who wrote ...?"
Silence.
"Did you mean what I think you meant ...?" Hell, I can't even finish a proper sentence ...
"Do'ahou."
The distance that lay between them wasn't there anymore. Hanamichi took a sharp intake of breath at the proximity. He looked at him, and an inner fire seemed to make him blaze with a passion extremely palpable.
Kaede's lips were suddenly on his own, kissing him, insistent, yearning, wanting, loving. Just like his dream, and yet, he knew that this was no work of his fevered imagination.
"Hana ..."
"Kaede ..."
A ghost of a smile hovered on the edges of Kaede's lips, flushed and swollen from their previous activity.
"I always get alone on nights like this ..."
The answer was just a nuzzle on the neck, nothing more, but it spoke in a far higher volume than words could have.
I couldn't see that you're always there for me
Remembering the time that we shared together
Come clear to me one night ... I am in love
It was a clear and comfortable evening, with the scent of honeysuckle heavy but not suffocating, in the cool night air. Hanamichi woke up from his deep slumber, to the odor of grass and earth.
He was at the park, sleeping.
A dream? Was that just another dream?!
"Do'ahou." Sono koe ni. Sono aoi hitomi.
He smiled softly, kissing Kaede on the mouth chastely. "Kitsune ..."
Drawing away, he stood up, brushing grass from his pants. "Come on."
There was a slyly mischievous ring to the statement. Hanamichi raised an eyebrow. "Your house or mine?"
"And they screwed happily ever after," Sendou Akira concluded, perpetual hentai smile intact. He glanced at his companion.
Youhei smiled. "Poor Hanamichi."
Quizzical frown. "Eh?"
"Rukawa looks like in seme mode."
Akira burst out laughing. "Oh, that. He always is on seme mode, mind you. All those things he dreams about Hana-kun ..."
"I don't think I want to hear it."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself."
They continued to watch the couple making out for a few more minutes before finally going their way to Rukawa's house.
"Who's next on the list?"
"Shoyo?" Youhei shrugged. "Fujima and that guy. Hanagata."
"Oh?" Akira feigned shock. "Not to Shin-kun?"
"It was you who said that we should pair Fujima and Hanagata."
Wide big smile grazed his face. "I did?"
Youhei sighed. "Yare, yare."
"Anou ..."
He looked at Akira, a little wary. "Nani?"
Giving him those irresistable pleading puppy eyes and charming smile, he said, "Help me with Koshino, onegai?"
Owari