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Eight
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Ken stood by the door, impatiently hopping from one foot to the other. "Youji," he whined. "I'm already five minutes late!"
"Don't worry, Kenken," Youji drawled. "I'm sure the poor girl has already given up on you."
"There's no girl!" Ken burst out.
"Boy then," Youji said, nonchalantly, turning back to the order forms. They raised a lot of their own flowers, but they still had to purchase some supplies from wholesalers.
"Youji!"
"What?" Youji asked, looking up and innocently batting his eyelashes.
"Augh," Ken threw his hands up in defeat. "Look, just go tell Fujimiya to get his ass down here so I can go."
"You go get him, KenKen. You're the one that wants to leave." Youji fixed Ken with a look. Truth be told, Youji hadn't spoken to Aya in the days since the redhead had turned him out with some half assed story about dependency. Fuzzy though the memories were, attained through an alcohol induced haze, he was still pissed at Aya for that, and was staying well clear of the younger man until he was sure he wouldn't try to strangle him.
It wasn't just that he was angry for being thrown out, pissed off about being denied, but using those feelings to avoid letting utter shame overwhelm him. Youji still felt used, dirty after their last encounter. Aya had all but begged Youji to fuck him, he had seen the need, the want shining in those violet eyes, and then ignored Youji as he crawled away.
The blonde was trying not to let that hurt, trying not to dwell on it every time he passed Aya in the hall, or shared a shift with him. Apparently Aya hadn't heard or understood the words Youji had confessed that night, seeming an eternity ago. Or maybe he just didn't care. Maybe all Youji was to him was a casual fuck in the time of need.
Aya's whore, who took his payment in guilt and shame, and the hope of some other expression in veiled purple eyes.
"Youji," Ken whined again, breaking into Youji's thoughts. "If you go up, I can leave as soon as Omi gets here. Yotan," Ken turned pleading when Youji made no attempt to budge off the chair he'd parked himself in.
"Alright, alright," Youji grumbled, standing and pulling off his apron. "Make sure you give your boyfriend a big sloppy one for me," Youji ducked out before Ken could manage more than a splutter in reply.
Youji gathered his courage as he mounted the stairs to their rooms. He had noticed Aya hadn't come downstairs earlier and it was unlike the redhead to be late for a shift. But it was exactly like him to be an asshole, and only an asshole would leave Ken hanging when everyone in the house knew that he had practice with those brats of his. Youji built up anger to replace the slight concern. Aya apparently didn't give a fuck about him or the rest of the team, so why should Youji expend the energy to be worried if the bastard didn't show up?
"Oi, Aya," Youji pounded on the door. "You're late. Ken's got practice." Youji waited for a beat, but no noise could be heard through the door. "Fuck," he muttered. "Look, Aya, I know you're pissed at me, but at least go cover Ken's shift. The chibi has some big project due in the next couple days so he can't cover and the girls are going to be here soon."
There was still no response from behind the door. "For fuck's sake," Youji muttered and went to open the door. He was surprised to find it unlocked. "Aya," he said as he stepped through and stopped in his tracks.
The room was empty. Not the sparse collection of belongings that Aya had possessed, but stripped down, no sign that anyone had ever inhabited the space. Only the furniture remained, because it belonged to Kritiker or because the asshole couldn't fit in the Porsche, Youji didn't know and didn't care.
Aya was gone.
"The fucking asshole," Youji spat as he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him. He had been pissed at Aya before, but now he was well and truly furious. The fucktard had just up and left, without a word of goodbye or explanation to his comrades of over a year.
"The goddammed prick," he swore again. He could care less if Aya decided he wanted to go, but it was going to upset Omi.
He threw open the door to the store, the resulting slam against the wall making Omi turn with a jump from the register where he was handing a customer change. "Youji-kun? Where's Aya-kun?"
"Gone," Youji snapped, as he retrieved his apron from the chair where he'd left it.
"Gone?" Omi echoed, his impossibly large blue eyes growing larger.
"Yeah, chibi," Youji softened his tone at Omi's pathetic look. "He's gone."
"But," Omi stammered. "He didn't even say goodbye."
Youji cursed Aya. How could he be so cold hearted to walk out on a kid whose family had abandoned and betrayed him? He should have at least told Omi he was leaving and spared the chibi some heartbreak. "I know," Youji said, crossing the few feet that separated them and pulled Omi into a brief hug. "It'll be okay, Omi. We got along just fine without him before."
"I know, Youji-kun." Omi turned back to the counter, swiping at his eyes.
Youji knew his words held little comfort for the teen. They held little comfort for himself, and he was trying not to care that the shithead was gone. He placed his hand on Omi's shoulder. "Can you stay and help, Omittchi? I know you have a project due, but Ken's already gone, and -" as much as Youji didn't want to admit it, having to be left alone in the shop with a swarm of girls was only going to make him feel even more abandoned than he wanted to think about. Damn you, Fujimiya Aya, Youji cursed.
"Hai, Youji-kun. I can pull an all nighter if I have to," Omi said, unable to keep the weary sadness out of his voice.
That made Youji want to hunt down the redheaded prick and beat the crap out of him. "Don't do that, chibi. Just help me get through the after school rush, and then I'll be okay." The school girls had a limited amount of time to stand around and ogle the four young men that tended the store. Most of them had after school activities to get to. Youji wasn't sure how Omi managed to avoid them; maybe the fact that he was an orphan supporting himself gave him some leeway with school authorities.
"Hai, Youji-kun," Omi echoed.
Youji seethed inside as the first of the uniformed girls began to loiter on the sidewalk outside the Koneko no Sumu Ie. Ken was going to be furious, not so much at Aya for leaving, but for the residual sadness that now lingered in Omi's eyes despite the cheerful front he was assembling for their fan club. Youji had a feeling there would be at least one new hole in a wall somewhere in the residence by night's end.
Youji was angry. At Aya for running out on Omi, on the team, on *him*. And he was angry at himself for not seeing it coming. For likely being the reason the fucker had taken off in the first place.
All but the deepest running threads of anger were replaced with a pleasant face as the first of the girls swarmed the shop, not really looking at the flowers but rather stage whispering amongst themselves about the boys hard at work. With clenched teeth and a grin that he didn't think would've fooled a corpse, he waved off questions of Aya's absence.
It didn't escape his notice that Omi stayed on after the rush slowed, finding small things around the shop to keep busy. If Youji had to guess, he'd think the kid didn't want to be left alone. Youji knew how he felt.
Eight
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Ken stood by the door, impatiently hopping from one foot to the other. "Youji," he whined. "I'm already five minutes late!"
"Don't worry, Kenken," Youji drawled. "I'm sure the poor girl has already given up on you."
"There's no girl!" Ken burst out.
"Boy then," Youji said, nonchalantly, turning back to the order forms. They raised a lot of their own flowers, but they still had to purchase some supplies from wholesalers.
"Youji!"
"What?" Youji asked, looking up and innocently batting his eyelashes.
"Augh," Ken threw his hands up in defeat. "Look, just go tell Fujimiya to get his ass down here so I can go."
"You go get him, KenKen. You're the one that wants to leave." Youji fixed Ken with a look. Truth be told, Youji hadn't spoken to Aya in the days since the redhead had turned him out with some half assed story about dependency. Fuzzy though the memories were, attained through an alcohol induced haze, he was still pissed at Aya for that, and was staying well clear of the younger man until he was sure he wouldn't try to strangle him.
It wasn't just that he was angry for being thrown out, pissed off about being denied, but using those feelings to avoid letting utter shame overwhelm him. Youji still felt used, dirty after their last encounter. Aya had all but begged Youji to fuck him, he had seen the need, the want shining in those violet eyes, and then ignored Youji as he crawled away.
The blonde was trying not to let that hurt, trying not to dwell on it every time he passed Aya in the hall, or shared a shift with him. Apparently Aya hadn't heard or understood the words Youji had confessed that night, seeming an eternity ago. Or maybe he just didn't care. Maybe all Youji was to him was a casual fuck in the time of need.
Aya's whore, who took his payment in guilt and shame, and the hope of some other expression in veiled purple eyes.
"Youji," Ken whined again, breaking into Youji's thoughts. "If you go up, I can leave as soon as Omi gets here. Yotan," Ken turned pleading when Youji made no attempt to budge off the chair he'd parked himself in.
"Alright, alright," Youji grumbled, standing and pulling off his apron. "Make sure you give your boyfriend a big sloppy one for me," Youji ducked out before Ken could manage more than a splutter in reply.
Youji gathered his courage as he mounted the stairs to their rooms. He had noticed Aya hadn't come downstairs earlier and it was unlike the redhead to be late for a shift. But it was exactly like him to be an asshole, and only an asshole would leave Ken hanging when everyone in the house knew that he had practice with those brats of his. Youji built up anger to replace the slight concern. Aya apparently didn't give a fuck about him or the rest of the team, so why should Youji expend the energy to be worried if the bastard didn't show up?
"Oi, Aya," Youji pounded on the door. "You're late. Ken's got practice." Youji waited for a beat, but no noise could be heard through the door. "Fuck," he muttered. "Look, Aya, I know you're pissed at me, but at least go cover Ken's shift. The chibi has some big project due in the next couple days so he can't cover and the girls are going to be here soon."
There was still no response from behind the door. "For fuck's sake," Youji muttered and went to open the door. He was surprised to find it unlocked. "Aya," he said as he stepped through and stopped in his tracks.
The room was empty. Not the sparse collection of belongings that Aya had possessed, but stripped down, no sign that anyone had ever inhabited the space. Only the furniture remained, because it belonged to Kritiker or because the asshole couldn't fit in the Porsche, Youji didn't know and didn't care.
Aya was gone.
"The fucking asshole," Youji spat as he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him. He had been pissed at Aya before, but now he was well and truly furious. The fucktard had just up and left, without a word of goodbye or explanation to his comrades of over a year.
"The goddammed prick," he swore again. He could care less if Aya decided he wanted to go, but it was going to upset Omi.
He threw open the door to the store, the resulting slam against the wall making Omi turn with a jump from the register where he was handing a customer change. "Youji-kun? Where's Aya-kun?"
"Gone," Youji snapped, as he retrieved his apron from the chair where he'd left it.
"Gone?" Omi echoed, his impossibly large blue eyes growing larger.
"Yeah, chibi," Youji softened his tone at Omi's pathetic look. "He's gone."
"But," Omi stammered. "He didn't even say goodbye."
Youji cursed Aya. How could he be so cold hearted to walk out on a kid whose family had abandoned and betrayed him? He should have at least told Omi he was leaving and spared the chibi some heartbreak. "I know," Youji said, crossing the few feet that separated them and pulled Omi into a brief hug. "It'll be okay, Omi. We got along just fine without him before."
"I know, Youji-kun." Omi turned back to the counter, swiping at his eyes.
Youji knew his words held little comfort for the teen. They held little comfort for himself, and he was trying not to care that the shithead was gone. He placed his hand on Omi's shoulder. "Can you stay and help, Omittchi? I know you have a project due, but Ken's already gone, and -" as much as Youji didn't want to admit it, having to be left alone in the shop with a swarm of girls was only going to make him feel even more abandoned than he wanted to think about. Damn you, Fujimiya Aya, Youji cursed.
"Hai, Youji-kun. I can pull an all nighter if I have to," Omi said, unable to keep the weary sadness out of his voice.
That made Youji want to hunt down the redheaded prick and beat the crap out of him. "Don't do that, chibi. Just help me get through the after school rush, and then I'll be okay." The school girls had a limited amount of time to stand around and ogle the four young men that tended the store. Most of them had after school activities to get to. Youji wasn't sure how Omi managed to avoid them; maybe the fact that he was an orphan supporting himself gave him some leeway with school authorities.
"Hai, Youji-kun," Omi echoed.
Youji seethed inside as the first of the uniformed girls began to loiter on the sidewalk outside the Koneko no Sumu Ie. Ken was going to be furious, not so much at Aya for leaving, but for the residual sadness that now lingered in Omi's eyes despite the cheerful front he was assembling for their fan club. Youji had a feeling there would be at least one new hole in a wall somewhere in the residence by night's end.
Youji was angry. At Aya for running out on Omi, on the team, on *him*. And he was angry at himself for not seeing it coming. For likely being the reason the fucker had taken off in the first place.
All but the deepest running threads of anger were replaced with a pleasant face as the first of the girls swarmed the shop, not really looking at the flowers but rather stage whispering amongst themselves about the boys hard at work. With clenched teeth and a grin that he didn't think would've fooled a corpse, he waved off questions of Aya's absence.
It didn't escape his notice that Omi stayed on after the rush slowed, finding small things around the shop to keep busy. If Youji had to guess, he'd think the kid didn't want to be left alone. Youji knew how he felt.