Run From Him
Author: Yoshi
Mail: Angelwings@mindless.com
Chapter: 3/?
Genre: Yaoi/AU/Romance
Disclaimers: I do not own SlamDunk for it is Takehiko Inoue's.
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Most of the night, the raven-haired man varied between his restless tossing to wakefulness. Once, a nightmare tortured him: he could see those flaying hooves descending towards his helpless body, crushing him from time to time again. The scenario seemed vivid enough and the continuous assault never ceasing.
"No!" he winced, cold sweat drenching his body as his mind dragged from the last vestiges of the dream. Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting as the rays of light penetrated the curtained window.
He lay there for a second, wondering where he was, and how did he get in the room. Clenching his teeth, he shifted in the bed, only to be drawn back as knife-sharp pains shot right through him, forcing him to stay immobile and allow the sensation to fade.
Soon, he gave up his futile attempts to move, and just settled with raising his head a little to take in his condition. There was a bandage on his back and front, and he could detect the stitches beneath the front binding. He noticed the faint crimson traces on the front bandage; it was still bleeding a little. His nerves were tight and tense; the stitches agonizing. His weakness was most noticeable, and hindering.
Tick.
Tack.
Tick.
Tack.
There was a rhythm somewhere.
"Ah," came a voice to his right, as if relieved that he had woken up. "You're finally awake."
The raven-haired man looked up, instantly alert as he surveyed his vulnerable position. He cursed his luck as pain shook his body anew, but this time tenfold when he tried to move. Remembering now, he realized he was still in the room of the redhead. The same redhead he assaulted just to have some place to stay.
Warm hands made contact with his bare chest in an effort to push him back gently to the bed. For the second time of their meeting, his eyes met with the redhead's. The warm tinge in it pinned him somehow.
"Don't move too much," Hanamichi warned, giving the raven-haired man a stern look that offered no argument. He tucked the blankets firmly like a mother would to her child. "I didn't patch you up just so that you'll end up ripping the stitches, you know."
Stitch him up? The man narrowed his eyes warily to the redhead before him. Is it by a small twist of a chance that he ended up with someone capable in this situation? Glancing at the bloodied shirt that almost clung to Hanamichi's body, he knew that the redhead wasn't lying.
A small part of him wanted to mutter his gratitude, but he squashed that part viciously, knowing that he may have some plans for him. After all, revenge is also a part of human instinct.
He couldn't blame the redhead if that was the case. If he wanted to get his revenge. It was his room in the first place, and he had absolutely NO right barging in then assaulting him without a viable explantion.
Fumbling underneath the pristine white sheets, he searched for his weapon fast. He was relieved that he found his gun still tightly placed in its holster.
"I said, don't mo-" the Hanamichi halted in mid-sentence as the man raised a gun, its barrel aimed directly to his chest. He raised his eyebrow at the 'injured' man.
Giving his coldest glare, the outlaw pointed the weapon unwaveringly. "What are you doing?" he asked icily.
He is an outlaw after all; he can't trust anyone. Wouldn't. Shouldn't trust anyone. If he did so, then he will be exposing himself vulnerable and helpless to his enemies. Life is not a game where people go on and trusting everyone and expect a harmonious relationship.
Hanamichi met his glare equally, unfazed of the obvious threat to his life. Inside, he was slightly fuming for the exhibition of ungratefulness. Stitching him up and watching all night for any signs of infection is not an easy task at all. "So stubborn." He mumbled in an amused manner before reaching out to straighten the blankets some more.
"I'm warning you-"
"Then shoot me." Such audacity seeped deliciously on his lips as he shot the challenge towards the raven-haired man.
Surprise flitted on the outlaw's expression, breaking his cold facade as the redhead grabbed the barrel with deft fingers and pointed it directly to his heart. What even surprised him was the strange look in the redhead's eyes.
That look...
In his entire existence, he had seen fear- all forms of it. However, none suited at what he saw in the brown orbs. Not even mock bravery, the easiest one to feign, flicked on Hanamichi's eyes. They looked so...honest. Straightforward and undaunted even though he knew he was threading on fine wires.
Is this man really that trusting?
Silence flowed throughout the room, neither occupants moving from their position. They held their pose, frozen, showing a dramatic interlude: two men gazing into each other's eyes, the one in bed pointing his weapon to the other's heart. Slowly, for what seemed to be hours yet only minutes, the raven-haired man relented and lowered the weapon down. The Hanamichi then carefully extracted the gun from his grip. "Why?" the outlaw asked, genuinely confused.
That simple inquiry was laden with a few more questions he dared not voice. Why did he help him? Why help him after he harmed him in the first place? Why did he just brush off the chance to call the sheriff to arrest him?
He was so accustomed to living alone that relying to someone-- even those who showed the slightest kind of affection to him- as not an option. It is a weakness meant to be exploited- something that he can't go risking about.
"Why?" Hanamichi raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"
"Why are you doing this? Why are you he-helping me?"
For a moment, Hanamichi remained silent, pondering at the question. Indeed, WHY? He could've just called the police to arrest the outlaw who assaulted him. He could've just let the man bleed to death. "Maybe I just want to." He replied honestly.
"Liar." He challenged, not believing what he had just been told.
"If I said because I wanted to kill you myself, will that be okay?" the redhead retorted, losing his patience at his patient's hard-headedness. " Perhaps I wanted to exact my revenge on you for barging in my room and then knocking me out senseless. Happy?" he added sarcastically with a snort. "You're just a regular outlaw to me; I don't see why the sheriff is so worked up just to catch you."
"Why you-" Gritting his teeth, the injured man tried to get some leverage and punch the daylights out of the smug man. He only ended up hissing in pain as Hanamichi prodded him near his shoulders none too gently and settled him back to his position. "Bastard."
"Not more than you." The redhead chuckled amazed at how the man's features crinkled in rage. He briefly wondered just how he would look like smiling. "I said you shouldn't be moving around. Just be glad I'm not charging you for my services."
"I'll kill you for this." For some reason, the threat held no conviction at all.
"I'm looking forward to it."
The raven-haired man closed his eyes for several seconds, allowing the dull ache to completely subside.
Hearing a shuffle of clothing, he opened his eyes warily, before they widened visibly. The redheaded oaf was actually changing his clothes in front of him! Of course, he mentally noted, remembering the stained shirt that Hanamichi was wearing.
Part of him wanted to simply brush it off, to think that it's only normal and there's nothing to be embarrassed about since they are both men.
However, his body had different plans as Hanamichi lifted the hem of his stained shirt, revealing inch by inch a well-toned body similar to his, though slightly more tanned. To his horror, he couldn't look away, as if he was being drawn by the simple act.
"Stop staring at me," Hanamichi grumbled furrowing his brow at the blushing man.
Blushing furiously at his train of thoughts and because he was caught staring, the raven-haired man averted his gaze. After a few minutes, he sensed the redhead sitting back on the chair beside the bed.
"Take this," Hanamichi said, pouring a spoonful of painkiller and held it towards him. "It'll ease the pain." He remarked when he saw the hesitant look on the man's face. "Don't tell me that the little outlaw is scared of this?" he taunted.
"Damn you," Giving in, he swallowed the nasty-tasting liquid. As he choked and coughed, he grimaced in pain and twitched. "I'll kill you for this."
"And I say, I'm looking forward to it."
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"Aren't you going to at least tell me your name?" Hanamichi sat on the edge of the bed, checking if the wound is still bleeding.
Silence.
"Okay, so I'll go first. The name's Hanamichi," he offered, hoping that the raven-haired man will open up and say something or even anything about himself. "Tell me what's yours."
Silence.
With a defeated sigh, the redhead began to settle down beside the outlaw. "The chair's too uncomfortable to sleep in," he said, feeling the clutches of sleep beckoning him slowly. "'Besides, this is my bed."
At the continued unresponsiveness of his companion, Hanamichi turned on his side, back towards the raven-haired man. Just before he was about to doze off, he heard something, barely whispered in his back.
"It's Kaede."
-----------------------------------------------
Author: Yoshi
Mail: Angelwings@mindless.com
Chapter: 3/?
Genre: Yaoi/AU/Romance
Disclaimers: I do not own SlamDunk for it is Takehiko Inoue's.
-----------------------------------
Most of the night, the raven-haired man varied between his restless tossing to wakefulness. Once, a nightmare tortured him: he could see those flaying hooves descending towards his helpless body, crushing him from time to time again. The scenario seemed vivid enough and the continuous assault never ceasing.
"No!" he winced, cold sweat drenching his body as his mind dragged from the last vestiges of the dream. Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting as the rays of light penetrated the curtained window.
He lay there for a second, wondering where he was, and how did he get in the room. Clenching his teeth, he shifted in the bed, only to be drawn back as knife-sharp pains shot right through him, forcing him to stay immobile and allow the sensation to fade.
Soon, he gave up his futile attempts to move, and just settled with raising his head a little to take in his condition. There was a bandage on his back and front, and he could detect the stitches beneath the front binding. He noticed the faint crimson traces on the front bandage; it was still bleeding a little. His nerves were tight and tense; the stitches agonizing. His weakness was most noticeable, and hindering.
Tick.
Tack.
Tick.
Tack.
There was a rhythm somewhere.
"Ah," came a voice to his right, as if relieved that he had woken up. "You're finally awake."
The raven-haired man looked up, instantly alert as he surveyed his vulnerable position. He cursed his luck as pain shook his body anew, but this time tenfold when he tried to move. Remembering now, he realized he was still in the room of the redhead. The same redhead he assaulted just to have some place to stay.
Warm hands made contact with his bare chest in an effort to push him back gently to the bed. For the second time of their meeting, his eyes met with the redhead's. The warm tinge in it pinned him somehow.
"Don't move too much," Hanamichi warned, giving the raven-haired man a stern look that offered no argument. He tucked the blankets firmly like a mother would to her child. "I didn't patch you up just so that you'll end up ripping the stitches, you know."
Stitch him up? The man narrowed his eyes warily to the redhead before him. Is it by a small twist of a chance that he ended up with someone capable in this situation? Glancing at the bloodied shirt that almost clung to Hanamichi's body, he knew that the redhead wasn't lying.
A small part of him wanted to mutter his gratitude, but he squashed that part viciously, knowing that he may have some plans for him. After all, revenge is also a part of human instinct.
He couldn't blame the redhead if that was the case. If he wanted to get his revenge. It was his room in the first place, and he had absolutely NO right barging in then assaulting him without a viable explantion.
Fumbling underneath the pristine white sheets, he searched for his weapon fast. He was relieved that he found his gun still tightly placed in its holster.
"I said, don't mo-" the Hanamichi halted in mid-sentence as the man raised a gun, its barrel aimed directly to his chest. He raised his eyebrow at the 'injured' man.
Giving his coldest glare, the outlaw pointed the weapon unwaveringly. "What are you doing?" he asked icily.
He is an outlaw after all; he can't trust anyone. Wouldn't. Shouldn't trust anyone. If he did so, then he will be exposing himself vulnerable and helpless to his enemies. Life is not a game where people go on and trusting everyone and expect a harmonious relationship.
Hanamichi met his glare equally, unfazed of the obvious threat to his life. Inside, he was slightly fuming for the exhibition of ungratefulness. Stitching him up and watching all night for any signs of infection is not an easy task at all. "So stubborn." He mumbled in an amused manner before reaching out to straighten the blankets some more.
"I'm warning you-"
"Then shoot me." Such audacity seeped deliciously on his lips as he shot the challenge towards the raven-haired man.
Surprise flitted on the outlaw's expression, breaking his cold facade as the redhead grabbed the barrel with deft fingers and pointed it directly to his heart. What even surprised him was the strange look in the redhead's eyes.
That look...
In his entire existence, he had seen fear- all forms of it. However, none suited at what he saw in the brown orbs. Not even mock bravery, the easiest one to feign, flicked on Hanamichi's eyes. They looked so...honest. Straightforward and undaunted even though he knew he was threading on fine wires.
Is this man really that trusting?
Silence flowed throughout the room, neither occupants moving from their position. They held their pose, frozen, showing a dramatic interlude: two men gazing into each other's eyes, the one in bed pointing his weapon to the other's heart. Slowly, for what seemed to be hours yet only minutes, the raven-haired man relented and lowered the weapon down. The Hanamichi then carefully extracted the gun from his grip. "Why?" the outlaw asked, genuinely confused.
That simple inquiry was laden with a few more questions he dared not voice. Why did he help him? Why help him after he harmed him in the first place? Why did he just brush off the chance to call the sheriff to arrest him?
He was so accustomed to living alone that relying to someone-- even those who showed the slightest kind of affection to him- as not an option. It is a weakness meant to be exploited- something that he can't go risking about.
"Why?" Hanamichi raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"
"Why are you doing this? Why are you he-helping me?"
For a moment, Hanamichi remained silent, pondering at the question. Indeed, WHY? He could've just called the police to arrest the outlaw who assaulted him. He could've just let the man bleed to death. "Maybe I just want to." He replied honestly.
"Liar." He challenged, not believing what he had just been told.
"If I said because I wanted to kill you myself, will that be okay?" the redhead retorted, losing his patience at his patient's hard-headedness. " Perhaps I wanted to exact my revenge on you for barging in my room and then knocking me out senseless. Happy?" he added sarcastically with a snort. "You're just a regular outlaw to me; I don't see why the sheriff is so worked up just to catch you."
"Why you-" Gritting his teeth, the injured man tried to get some leverage and punch the daylights out of the smug man. He only ended up hissing in pain as Hanamichi prodded him near his shoulders none too gently and settled him back to his position. "Bastard."
"Not more than you." The redhead chuckled amazed at how the man's features crinkled in rage. He briefly wondered just how he would look like smiling. "I said you shouldn't be moving around. Just be glad I'm not charging you for my services."
"I'll kill you for this." For some reason, the threat held no conviction at all.
"I'm looking forward to it."
The raven-haired man closed his eyes for several seconds, allowing the dull ache to completely subside.
Hearing a shuffle of clothing, he opened his eyes warily, before they widened visibly. The redheaded oaf was actually changing his clothes in front of him! Of course, he mentally noted, remembering the stained shirt that Hanamichi was wearing.
Part of him wanted to simply brush it off, to think that it's only normal and there's nothing to be embarrassed about since they are both men.
However, his body had different plans as Hanamichi lifted the hem of his stained shirt, revealing inch by inch a well-toned body similar to his, though slightly more tanned. To his horror, he couldn't look away, as if he was being drawn by the simple act.
"Stop staring at me," Hanamichi grumbled furrowing his brow at the blushing man.
Blushing furiously at his train of thoughts and because he was caught staring, the raven-haired man averted his gaze. After a few minutes, he sensed the redhead sitting back on the chair beside the bed.
"Take this," Hanamichi said, pouring a spoonful of painkiller and held it towards him. "It'll ease the pain." He remarked when he saw the hesitant look on the man's face. "Don't tell me that the little outlaw is scared of this?" he taunted.
"Damn you," Giving in, he swallowed the nasty-tasting liquid. As he choked and coughed, he grimaced in pain and twitched. "I'll kill you for this."
"And I say, I'm looking forward to it."
-----------------------------------------------
"Aren't you going to at least tell me your name?" Hanamichi sat on the edge of the bed, checking if the wound is still bleeding.
Silence.
"Okay, so I'll go first. The name's Hanamichi," he offered, hoping that the raven-haired man will open up and say something or even anything about himself. "Tell me what's yours."
Silence.
With a defeated sigh, the redhead began to settle down beside the outlaw. "The chair's too uncomfortable to sleep in," he said, feeling the clutches of sleep beckoning him slowly. "'Besides, this is my bed."
At the continued unresponsiveness of his companion, Hanamichi turned on his side, back towards the raven-haired man. Just before he was about to doze off, he heard something, barely whispered in his back.
"It's Kaede."
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