Such Great Heights
By Ayanagami
~
True – it may seem like a stretch
But it's thoughts like this that catch
My troubled head when you're away
When I am missing you to death
- Such Great Heights, third verse, by Postal Service
~
One thing that Omi never took for granted was that in having a job, or a semblance of a job, he was damn near always prepared whenever he got his insane urges to spend some money. Usually on either one of two things. Junk food, or 'Technocrap,' as Yohji called it. And right now he was in the mood for stuff that health brochures specifically advised against.
Shopping cart in hand and a destination in mind, he cruised passed aisles filled with baby products, toys, cereals, fruit, whatever. The stuff that he wasn't there for. Instinctively he turned a corner and found himself surrounded by chips, cookies, candy, dip, the works. He noted to himself that he needed some more whip cream. He grabbed a few bags of chips, corresponding dips, whatever looked the least healthiest, just the way he liked it. He opted for a few bags of candy – mainly peppermint flavored, a taste he liked for some odd reason.
He then made a bee-line for the frozen section – hmmm... Should he get ice cream or keep with his original thought of whip cream...?
"Jesus Christ, there's no way you can eat that by yourself." A familiar voice intoned behind him – before he turned, his mind struggled placing that voice, but failed until he met surprised teal eyes.
Ken.
Crap.
Fighting a blush and scowling, Omi glared at the jock before turning his attention back to what he was originally there for – he grabbed a can of whip cream, the kind you could just point and squirt. He turned back and found Ken not quite rummaging through his stuff so much as leaning over the cart with a dismayed look.
"Sheez, it's like you put everything from the junk food aisle into your cart!" Omi felt his eye twitch as he uncapped the whip cream, wondering if the guy knew he had his feet dangling out of his mouth at the moment. Ken faced him, unaware of the danger he was in as he continued, "Aren't you afraid o-"
But, at that moment, Omi had shaken the contents of the can, and inserted the nozzle into Ken's open mouth, applying pressure and filling the cavity with whip cream, making Ken's eyes widen in shock.
That done, Omi withdrew the bottle, licking some remnants of whip cream from his finger and the tip of the nozzle, he then recapped the bottle, dropped it into the cart, and made his way to the fruit section – his one stop in which he'd acquire something healthy in his binge.
He left a gaping Ken behind with a mouth full of whip cream.
*
Yohji laughed at him from the living room couch, sprawled across the upholstery, as Omi glared at him from his position against the wall as he sat on the floor.
"So, let me get this straight... this guy is constantly saying whatever comes to mind first, and because of that, you fill his mouth with whip cream." Yohji grinned cockily, then added, "Oh, and you're avoiding him at school because you hate him."
"Wouldn't you hate someone who stands for everything that officially sucks? He called me a girl, Yohji!" Omi exclaimed, throwing a bag of chips at the green-eyed boy.
"No, he didn't," Yohji corrected, catching the bag and tossing it back amiably. "He said you smelled like one."
"And that I looked like one – you can't get any closer to calling a guy a girl than that besides actually saying it!" Omi spazzed.
"Well maybe it was just an observation – or maybe even a compliment."
"... that would have to be the worst compliment I've ever heard."
Yohji shrugged.
"Anyway," Omi said, changing the subject, "What were you doing this afternoon?"
"Ah, that..." Yohji looked rather pleased with himself. "I got a job."
"Really? Great!" Omi said, grinning; after all, he wasn't going to support Yohji his entire life. Especially since the green eyed boy was older than him! "Where do you work?"
"At a record store. I'm starting next week, when I meet most of the staff."
"What's your boss like?"
"Ahh... She's okay. A little zealous, but interesting."
"That's awesome. Don't screw it up." Omi warned as he got up and left the room, taking with him the strawberries, whip cream, and his bags of minty-flavored candy.
Yohji protested, saying that comment was uncalled for.
*
Omi was online, waiting for Nagi to get on as he munched on a strawberry – he'd yet to venture into the whip cream. It was almost as if in being inside Ken's mouth, it was off limits. After all, that's where the moron put his foot most the time, anyway.
A window popped up accompanied by the sound of a buddy online.
PerpetualDark: Always online, I see.
Bombay: Not always – I went junk food shopping.
PerpetualDark: :laugh: Fear inducing.
Bombay: :growl:
PerpetualDark: No, really.
Bombay: Anyway, did you fix the computer?
PerpetualDark: Yup. The feedback was messed up. I needed to reroute the relays.
Bombay: Oh. I hate you, I really do.
PerpetualDark: And what else is new? O_o
Bombay: Actually, the shit hit the fan, so to say.
PerpetualDark: Oh really? Do tell. o.o
Bombay: KEN WAS MY FUCKING DATE, YOU ASS!!!
There were few moments in which there was no reply.
PerpetualDark: Oops.
Bombay: OOPS!? OOPS!!!?? That's all you can say??!
Omi was at that moment throwing a hissy fit in front of the computer screen making vengeful noises and angry faces, forming his fingers into claws and pretending to lunge at the screen with them.
PerpetualDark: Yeah, pretty much, I didn't know. Can't blame it on me. You never told me his name.
Bombay: Technically, no, I can't blame it on you, however, theoretically, yes, it's all your fault.
PerpetualDark: And this theory is...?
Bombay: In my own damn head.
PerpetualDark: Ah, yes... THAT again...
Bombay: Shut up. And he called me a girl again.
PerpetualDark: How so?
Bombay: Said I smelled like a girl. And then we fell down and I landed on top of him.
PerpetualDark: So, did you cop a feel?
Bombay: . NO I DIDN'T!
PerpetualDark: ...
Bombay: No!
PerpetualDark: ......
Bombay: ...no.
PerpetualDark: .........
Bombay: ... er... not intentionally.
PerpetualDark: As I thought. Anything else?
Bombay: I ran into him in the grocery store. I think he was about to call me fat when I filled his mouth with whip cream and walked off.
PerpetualDark: Only you. Have to go. See you tomorrow.
Bombay: Bye.
PerpetualDark has logged off.
Omi sighed and leaned back, line of sight suddenly drawn to the neglected can of whip cream.
He snorted and turned his gaze away, a part of his mind thinking 'Ew! Been contaminated!'
Sighing, he struggled out of his computer chair, jogging down stairs to collect his backpack. He bypassed Yohji and scooped up his pack, hightailing back to his room before his roommate could comment or say a thing. Usually something about cybering.. O.o
In his room, he dropped his backpack, following it to his knees and rooting through it until he emerged with his Trig book and notepad. The good thing was that today it was only Trig. The bad thing was that today was only Trig.
What the hell was he supposed to with the rest of the night?
*
There is a day in everyone's lives when they have to face the music.
The music, for Omi, was Gym.
Somehow Gym had gotten dumped on him fifth period, right after lunch, after three years of quietly dodging the class like a drunken fighter – bob and weave, bob and weave.
It looked like Omi might have actually gotten away with cutting Gym and working on the computers for the entire year... until he was found out, and dragged, bodily, into the locker room, forced to dress out, and join the activities. Omi cursed the teacher, cursed the messenger, and cursed whatever God was laughing at him. But, must of all, he cursed Ken Hidaka.
Because Omi hadn't attended a day of Gym, not the first, nor the second, nor any minute in the following weeks, the blond Goth never knew that Ken was in his class. Trailing sullenly behind the boy who had ferreted him out of the computer room and forced him to change into his Gym clothes (which he willingly did, because he had a suspicion that if he didn't... the guy might do it for him - Omi wasn't that desperate), Omi walked out onto the soccer field, glaring malevolently with plenty of malicious emotions to go around at the rest of his class. He only missed Ken on his first sweep because Ken was actually behind him, practicing with another kid.
When the kid moved into the middle of the field, Omi just stopped following him. Arms crossed over his chest, chin tucked down and generally drawing into himself, Omi stood at the edge, refusing to come near one of those balls from hell. Really, what more could a black and white patchwork ball be?
Finally, much to Omi's chagrin, the coach noticed him, glaring at the little whelp who dare choose computers over his precious, most wonderful class called... 'Gym'. With holy lights and an angelic chorus and everything. The whole kit.
"Tsukiyono! Glad to see that you've managed to grace my class with your presence." The coach bellowed from halfway across the field. Omi made a face at him, as if saying 'don't rub it in, and don't get too excited.' "Get a partner and start moving."
When Omi didn't move like he was ordered to - Like hell I'm going to jump to his orders, damnit, Omi thought vehemently to himself – the coach yelled at him again.
"Move!"
By that time, most of the class had stopped to look at Omi – or, rather, a pale, blond kid wearing a Tee and shorts both way too big for him and black sneakers. Actually, they saw a homicidal blond kid, but they just didn't know it.
Omi, in turn, glared right back at the kids, spotting Ken for the first time and paling. Oh... crap.
Hastily looking back at the coach, Omi stood his ground. Getting dragged across campus, forced to wear these clothes that made him look like the kid who got picked last in everything, and made to stand in a field of dumb soccer people was one thing. Taking part in the cult-like activity (in Omi's opinion, anyway) was another thing entirely.
Obviously, Omi's thoughts were quite clear. And obviously, the coach really didn't care.
"Hidaka! Partner with Tsukiyono! He looks like he doesn't even know what a soccer ball is."
That did it. While Omi would usually never stoop so low, desperate times called for desperate measures. And having Ken as a partner, in Omi's less than coherent mind, definitely registered as desperate!
Spotting the nearest soccer ball, he charged, taking no heed that he was charging towards Ken...
His foot connected, the ball went flying, and with a thud, Ken was down for the count.
End Notes: Thank you for your reviews. I hope this is funny enough, and cute enough. I agree with those reviewers of mine who said that they dislike the fuzzy loving stuff. I HATE it! It makes me want to puke – my favorite couples, yaoi or otherwise, always mix like water and oil. ^^ I write about it a whole lot, too. And sorry for the delay. :grins and strikes a pose: I'm a dumbass!