Sister one here. My turn at Fushigi Yuugi. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Misery Loves Company
The glass chinked softly on the bar as Nakago set it down with the exaggerated care of one who is seriously drunk. His vision blurred, but that was the drink. That wasn't tears. He didn't do tears. Ever. Even if the girl of his dreams didn't even bloody notice him. Except when she came to cry in his arms, and tell him about her lovelife. A lovelife that didn't include him. And she didn't even see how that hurt him. Of course she didn't. No-one ever saw anything that he felt. His mask was quite perfect.
'Hey there, gorgeous,' came a husky (or perhaps muzzy. It didn't really matter) voice at his elbow. He looked blearily up into a rather beautiful face. Long raven hair, sparkling eyes, effeminate features ... In short, what any man would call 'a whole lotta woman'. Any other man. He, unfortunately, knew better. Damned shame. He could have done with some gorgeous company. However, he didn't do gay relationships.
'Emperor Hotohori. What a surprise. And how is the war faring?' He watched amused as a faintly pained expression crossed the feminine features. Then, to his surprise, the other man sat down beside him. 'Do you mind? I'm trying for incognito here! Call me 'Hori, please. At least here.' Nakago smirked. 'Hori'? Oh yes. This would be fun. Maybe not such a waste after all.
'So. What brings you to our humble capitol, General?' Hotohori looked curiously at him. Nakago smiled. 'General? If you are incognito in your own city, what do you think I am? And since we're on such a friendly basis, you can call me 'Naki', dear 'girl'. If it's not too much trouble?' He sat back to watch the man's reaction. The emporer smiled. 'Of course. Would you like a drink? Or should I say, another drink?' Nakago snorted. 'You look a fine one to talk. How many have you had? Yes, I'll have a drink. And you aswell.'
Hori nodded. 'Don't suppose you'll tell me why you need one?' Naki shrugged, staring moodily into his fresh glass. 'Women,' he muttered. Hori sighed, sinking back into his seat beside the melancholy general. 'Tell me about it. They take your affection, take your support, and then bloody go off for another guy!' Nakago grunted. 'Then they get hurt, and come crying to you, expecting you to comfort them! Like they did for you. Oh yes! Like they did for you.' Hori looked back at him, sneering in acknowledgement. 'As if they notice your pain.' 'As if they care,' Nakago finished.
'What does she see in him?' Hotohori muttered. 'Why would she fall for that bloody twit?' Nakago growled. 'What the hell has Tamahome got that I don't?' they both yelled, surprising rather a lot of people, themselves included. They looked at each other in shock. For several humming seconds, they glared, unsure of each other. Then, with a matching pair of wry grins, they relaxed.
'Well, Tamahome doesn't look like a girl, for a start,' Naki smirked. 'Yeah, and he doesn't torture people for pleasure, either,' Hori huffed. 'That's not for pleasure, that's for the good of the country!' 'Yeah. I'm sure,' Hori responded sarcastically. 'Ah, hell with it,' Nakago snapped, standing. 'I didn't come here to get preached at!' 'No,' muttered Hori, snagging his armour, and pulling him back down. 'You came to get drunk. So did I. So how about we forget that little slip, and get drunker together? We both could use it.' He smiled winningly. Or would have if the drink he had already injested hadn't skewed the smile. Nakago sighed.
'Well, misery loves company, I suppose. Pass the bottle, Hori.'
Et voila! C'est bonne, non? R&R? Please?