Disclaimer: No they don't belong to me. I know that, you know that, they know that. So just enjoy anyway.
Comments: Here it comes, the next installment of Unfortunate Events. It's a cutey. Yeah, not much to say. I may or may not have made some changes back in the other chapters to their more original forms due to the lamentations of a friend of mine. *pets Mako-chan* Actually I'm not sure why I changed it in the first place… I was just never quite right with the line. But… eeeeh. So maybe it's back. Or maybe I was lazy and didn't fix it. I dunno. Anyway back to –this- chapter. Read it, enjoy it, comment upon it. Whatever. Have fun.
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I throw a few thousand yen into the front window of the taxicab. The driver simpers some idle, meaningless thanks and pretends that he is going to count out my change. I wave at him to keep it, as he knew I would, and shoulder my bag. The cab is gone before I have the time to change my mind. I pause and stare at the front of the Koneko. It looks too damn happy. The windows sparkle, the flowers seem to fairly shimmer just to spite me, and the door jingles in an annoyingly happy way as another satisfied customer exits the premises. She smiles at me as she passes. I don't smile back, I just nod my head.
Pushing the door open I grumble incoherently to myself and make my way purposefully past all the plants and counters and people. It's still early in the morning. Only a little after ten. I wonder what all these people are doing here so early. What the hell do so many people need flowers for a ten AM?
I bump into Youji's shoulder as I make for the back door. He jumps and looks at me, his green eyes wide and startled.
"Ah! Aya-kun?! Jesus, you scared me. You're back… today? But I thought Ken was gonna…"
"Yeah, me too," I snap, cutting him off and slamming the back door behind me. I take the stairs two at a time. I grumble to myself as I make my way through the apartment, up the stairs. I am not happy. You wouldn't be happy either if you were me. Before I know it I've reached my destination. I drop my bag in the hallway and take a deep breath, revving myself up before I roughly shove the door open and step inside, not bothering to close it behind me.
It smells warm in here. Warm and slightly musty… cramped like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks. A perfunctory glance around assures me that it hasn't. Piles of cast off clothing crowd the already minimal floor space. Discarded books and CD cases are strewn about in a disorderly fashion that makes me twitch nervously. Dirty dishes, empty noodle cups, half-eaten packages of seaweed and pocky, all litter what is left of any remaining surfaces. It all adds to the smell. I wrinkle my nose in disgust and, picking my way very carefully across the floor, finally make it to the bed. A large pile of what could be either clean or dirty clothes is heaped on the end. Somewhere beneath the refuse is Ken.
I am just about to grab the covers and rip them off in a fit of savage temper when I catch a glimpse of dark brown hair peaking above the lip of the comforter. A tiny patch of warm brown skin is exposed beneath that, and the tips of four fingers poke sweetly over the edge of one pillow. I feel the betrayal of my lips as they begin to smile softly. My heart beats a tiny bit faster, and I reprimand myself for it.
Damn it, no! I'm angry! I have a right to be angry. No matter how cute he is I am going to get the satisfaction of yelling at him.
I steel myself and reach for the covers, yanking them back. "Ken Hidaka you baka! Wake up!" I growl.
The sudden exposure of his skin to the cold air outside the warmth of his blankets sends a sharp shiver through my koibito. He jolts, groans, squeaks and then twitches violently, pulling himself into fetal position. After a moment his eyes open painfully and he turns his head, peering up at me with that lost puppy look. Oh God… those big droopy brown eyes…
"Uh…? K-koi? You're back? Oh, koibito, I missed you so much, are you really back?" he murmurs softly his voice slowly gaining strength, his eyes focusing.
I furrow my eyebrows and open my mouth to snap at him scathingly, but nothing comes out. My breath is taken away. He is so beautiful, lying there, rumpled and disoriented. His soft hair sticks up at funny angles, his sweet, tight body shivers against the intrusion of the cold. I notice that he's wearing a very ugly orange sweater. The sleeves are too long, the cuffs dangle charmingly from his hands which are lazily reaching for me. He's sleeping in my sweater. My heart softens, I want to hold him… It's been two weeks.
Again, no. I am still supposed to be angry here. Me angry. Where is that damn nihilism when I need it? It used to come so easily. Where is that mask of frozen emotion? Argh. I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to glare off into space. I can't look at him. If I do I'm just so much meat to be wasted.
"Yes, I'm back. No thanks to you," I grumble darkly.
"Wha…? What do you mean?" he asks softly, the slightest edge coming into his voice. I hazard a glance at him. He's rolled onto his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other still reaching for me. Before I lose control I close my eyes and look away again.
"Well, let's see. My plane got in this morning at seven o'clock. I waited until nine before I fought my way onto the bullet train, in rush hour traffic, and then caught a cab home," I say as dryly as I can.
There is a space of dead air about five seconds long and then Ken makes a painful groaning sound. "Shit! I was supposed to pick you up!" he cries. I can hear him tossing around, turning to look at his clock. "Argh! It's almost ten thirty! Oh, koi….. Aya-kun, I am so sorry! Ah, damn it! I was supposed to meet you at the gate," he cries, whacking his forehead.
I hiss in disgust and toss the covers back up over his face. "Yeah, you were," I say flatly and then turn to leave.
Now that I think about it, and don't have to look at him, it's pretty easy to be pissed at Ken. It isn't just the fact that he forgot to pick me up, hell we all forget things like that every once in a while. But Ken does it all the time. He just gets so caught up in whatever he's doing at the moment. Out of sight, out of mind. I can't trust him to cook, because he burns everything. Can't trust him to do the laundry because he always forgets to put the wet clothes in the drier, and then they get musty and have to be washed again. He's just always so clumsy and forgetful. I keep waiting for Ken to grow up, but he never does.
Ken gives a strangled cry and sits up. "Aya….! Koi, wait. Look, I'm sorry, ok? I'm really, really sorry," he calls after me. His voice catches and I hear him mutter, "I'm such a screw-up."
There are a few things in this world that cut me to the bone. One is the thought of my sister in danger and another is my aité having reason to cry. I turn and look over my shoulder. I hadn't quite expected this. I was sure he'd at least try to defend himself, get angry most likely. That's more Ken's style. It's so much easier to just argue with him.
He's sitting up in bed now, his head is bent to his knee, one arm draped in front of his eyes. I hear him sniff and then whimper softly. He's going to cry all over my sweater. Oh God, I can't take this. I turn around and take a few steps towards him again, my feet padding softly on what little open floor I can find.
"No… Ken, I didn't mean that. I'm just angry, that's all. I'll get over it. It isn't that big a deal. I'm home anyway, so it's just water under the bridge really," I sigh, picking my way over the refuse.
He looks up at me, tears are starting to form in his deep eyes. "No!" he cries, "You don't understand, Aya. I am a screw-up! I screw everything up. Even this. I couldn't even remember to pick you up at the airport after you'd been gone for two weeks! Two weeks!"
I look down at him with hooded eyes. He grimaces bitterly as he looks up into my face and then the tears finally break over the rim of his eyes and fall down his smooth cheeks. He hiccups and hides his face in his knee again.
Sighing, I sit beside him and pull him into the loop of one arm. I kiss his hair gently, but don't say anything. Some part of me agrees with him.
I can barely make out what he's saying as he starts to mumble into his knees. "I wanted to be there so badly, too. I wanted to be the first one to see you when you got back and put my arms around you and tell you how happy I was to see you. I wanted to do this one thing right, I wanted to see your eyes light up when you got off the plane and I was actually there. I wrote myself notes for god's sake! And even after all that, even when I –wanted- to be there for you so badly I couldn't get it together enough to even fucking remember to set my alarm. I am a horrible boyfriend, I always have been!" he cries.
My eyes snap wide open and I reach for his face, taking his chin in my hand. I pull his head up and towards me, locking my eyes with his. He looks so startled and sad. God I love him.
"You are not a horrible boyfriend," I say levelly.
He tries to pull his face away and shake his head, "Yes I a-…"
I cut him of, jerking his face towards me again. I don't mean to be so rough, but sometimes it's the only way to get through to him. "No, you are not, Ken. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. If I couldn't love you, and if you didn't love me in return I would be to the ninth level of hell by now."
He looks at me adoringly for a moment, the sadness fading slightly from his eyes. Then uncertainty begins to swim in those dark pools and he looks away. "But I'm such a fuck up. I can't do anything right. I can't even cook or do the laundry for God's sake. And what about the time I broke your glasses? Or when I got smashed and chained you up to the bed? Even then, when I was trying to do something fun for us, I totaled it. What the hell is wrong with me?!" he cries angrily.
I lean closer to him and gently kiss his forehead, taking the time to nuzzle his hair. "There is nothing wrong with you, Kenken," I whisper. "You're just a little spazzy. I know you try, and I know that I can't change you. I don't want to. Besides you aren't the only one who does stupid things. Remember when I broke your nose with the back of my head? Or how about all those nights I've kept you awake, or pounced on you out of nowhere?"
He sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of my sweater. Then he grins and chuckles once. "That's true. Aw but, koi, I really did want to be there at the airport this morning. I always want to do all these things for you and I always have the best intentions, but they never work out. I do truly love you so much."
I draw him deeper into the circle of my arms and hold him against me. "I know, aité, and that has made all the difference in the world."
He makes a soft clicking sound and then puts his arms around my neck, leaning back, pulling me down onto the bed with him, pulling the blankets aside and drawing me into them. We lie side by side, simply staring at each other. I touch his face, tracing all his beauty with my fingertips. His eyes flutter closed as I gently brush over his sensitive lips. He smiles and stifles a giggle. We speak no words, and he moves quietly, drawing my hand away. Without prompting he pulls his body closer to mine and kisses gently at my neck, breathing softly against the sensitive skin below my ear. I murmur appreciatively. It's been two weeks.
"Do you forgive me yet?" he whispers in my ear.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling his hard, lean body against mine. "Mmm. Not quite, but getting there," I say playfully. He nips my earlobe in response, tightening his arms around my neck. I feel him rub against me, and hear his low moan as I rock back against him.
"What do I have to do to get forgiveness?" he asks a little breathlessly.
I think about it for a moment and then push him back slightly so that I can see his face. I narrow my eyes. "Tell me why you're wearing my sweater."
His face goes blank and then goes into confusion mode. He glances down at himself and lifts one arm up from my neck so that he can examine it. "Oh!" he gasps as if he didn't realize he'd been wearing it all along. "I forgot that I had it on," he trails off and then looks at me sheepishly. "Er… you don't mind do you?"
I raise an eyebrow. Let him interpret what that means.
He looks away and flushes a bit. "Well… I missed you so much, I guess. It smells like you, so I started wearing it around the house… and then I started sleeping in it… It's really comfy actually. I felt close to you, even though you were far away."
I smile indulgently. "You are so odd, aité. Have you washed it?"
He looks scandalized. "No! If I did it wouldn't smell like you anymore! It would smell like laundry." As if I was the idiot here.
I incline my head forward and sniff the sweater once and then lean back again. I curl my lip. "Well now it doesn't smell like me or laundry. It smells like a dirty sweater you've been wearing for two weeks."
"It does not! I was very careful with it," he protests.
"Ken, you've been –sleeping- in it. Do you have any idea how much you sweat when you sleep? Because I do, and let me tell you…"
"News flash, Aya, when I sleep with you that sweat isn't from sleep," he says dryly.
I jab at his ribs. "Smart-ass." He giggles and thrashes against me. I growl softly and nibble at his neck, tickling the skin with my teeth.
"Ah! Hah ha… er… Aya-kun, cut it out, ne?!" he cries, wriggling against me. I love it. But I know he really does hate to be tickled so I stop. It takes him a moment to calm down. His eyes sparkle and dance as he gazes at me. "Who's the smart-ass now?"
Instead of responding I pull his face to mine and claim his flushed lips with my own. I'd almost forgotten how sweet he tasted. Two weeks is a long time to go without the kiss of a lover. He moans softly and I press deeper, taking my time, savoring the pliant feel of his mouth beneath mine. Our tongues dance together and play a tumultuous game of give and take. He makes me shaky. I think I have the same effect on him because in a matter of moments we are trembling in each others' arms, anticipation and passion coursing through our bodies.
"Ken," I hiss, finally breaking the kiss, "it feels like it's been forever. I want you so badly."
He swallows and blushes, nodding his head. "I know. But… ah… shouldn't you take your stuff to your room first?" he says breathlessly.
I force myself to pull away from him slightly and nod my head. I should also probably close the door just in case Youji or Omi decide to come up for anything. "Yeah. I should. I'll go to my room first and then I'll be back."
He begins to nod, but then suddenly looks up at me with wide 'oh no' eyes and gasps. He covers his mouth with his hand. "Your room…"
This can't be good. I narrow my eyes. "What about my room?"
"Oh, Ran!" he cries despondently. "Shit shit shit! I forgot, you can't to in there… not until I clean it."
I raise an eyebrow. "What happened to my room?"
"I kinda… camped out in there for a couple nights," he answers haltingly.
I know what this means. If Ken spent any significant amount of time in my room then it was bound to pretty much look just like his room. I grumble and glare at him as hard as I can. "And you didn't clean it yet?!" I cry.
"Well, that was all part of the 'I forgot to get up this morning' problem," he whines. "Koi, oh God, I really am a screw-up. See I told you. Ken Hidaka, grade A royal failure." He looks down and tries to bury his face in a pillow.
I sigh and reach out, touching him gently. He looks up and I smile warmly, it isn't any use getting upset over it now. I can't change him, he is the way he is. Maybe over time he'll get better but until then…
"No, Ken, you are not a failure. You're just a work in progress," I say softly and then kiss him again. He smiles against my lips and then rocks his hips forward, rubbing against me. Suddenly the state of my room is no longer a priority.
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