14 The Problem with Mondo
Mondo wakes easily the next morning with his kyoudai wrapped up in his arms, the kid sleeping peacefully atop his chest, like he was fucking /born/ to be there. The kid's face is relaxed with sleep, his breathing deep and even, and Mondo can feel as his heart silently aches inside his chest, hurting in a way it never has before. In this one moment, stuck between sleep and wakefulness, looking down at the peacefully sleeping face of his entire world... he can't stop the thought that enters his head, his chest aching deeper with the intensity of it.
/Fuck... I wish I could kiss him.../
He knows he shouldn't have thoughts like that. Knows that it's /wrong/, fucking /immoral/ and shit (the kid is fucking /sleeping/, he wouldn't want Mondo thinking shit like that about him), but he can't quite make it go away. For the first time in over a year, he had woken peacefully, not startled awake from a nightmare or some other outside stimuli, and he can't help how foggy it makes him feel. How fanciful and wistful and what not. The loneliness that has been plaguing him his entire life— even back when he had Daiya— rears its ugly head and there's a part of him that just /wants/. Deeply and desperately /wants/.
But he can't have. He just... can't.
He isn't allowed.
So, with great reluctance, he pushes the thought out of his head and buries it deep, deep, /deep/ into his psyche, where he won't ever find it again. And he knows that he'll try to rationalize this shit later. Will say he was just tired, just lonely, just needed to /fucking get laid/, but here... in this one moment, his entire fucking universe in his arms, so happy and content and _/in love/_...
He knows the truth.
But he's not allowed that truth.
So, he pushes it away.
Like... like always...
Mondo remains laying like that for an unknown amount of time, too afraid to move and look at the clock. He doesn't want to wake the kid, after all. Not before it's time to get up. He's quickly coming to crave these sleepy moments, moments where he's awake but the kid isn't. Moments where he can allow his heart to feel all the shit he's not allowed to feel during the day, his heart beating for one person and one person alone. Moments where the world outside doesn't matter, and only the world he's holding does.
And it's stupid. And embarrassing. And far too sappy for a fearsome biker gang leader to ever feel. But in moments like these... moments that are soft and sleepy and happy and /bright/...
It doesn't matter. None of it... none of it /matters/.
Only Taka. Only... /only/ Taka.
The moment ends far too soon, the kid's new alarm (on his new goddamn phone that the school apparently /let him keep/, shit. Taka'd been super confused by how to set the alarm the night before, the kid the fucking worst at technology, and while Mondo has never had a fucking /smart phone/ before, he'd been able to play around with the settings enough to figure out how to set it up for him. It plays music as an alarm now, rather than the annoying as fuck beeping his clock would give, so that's something) playing softly enough to wake him if needed, but not the kid, who still sleeps peacefully on. He finds that he doesn't want to wake the kid, though. Finds that he wants to turn the alarm off and keep Taka in his arms forever. Forever and ever and /ever/, god fucking damn the consequences.
But he can't do that. Not only does he not want to bog the kid down and ruin his fucking golden future, but he has things he needs to do today. Lots of fucking things. After all...
He and the kid are going for a /ride/.
And that shit has gotta be fucking /perfect/. Absolutely... perfect.
Like Taka is.
So, despite the reluctancy inside him, he quietly turns off the alarm and shifts so he can whisper into the kid's ear, his heart stuttering as he goes. F-fuck... but this feels so fucking good, doesn't it...?
"Mm... g'mornin', kyoudai," Mondo calls softly, raising a hand to gently trail across the kid's temple. He can feel as Taka shuffles in his arms, letting out a soft, sleepy noise. Mondo thinks (_hopes_) that maybe the kid will be more stubborn about waking today, requiring more effort to rouse him, but before he can really even think it Taka's eyes are blinking open, awake faster than usual. That makes Mondo think that the kid was already partially awake, since usually it's more of a challenge rousing him (not that Mondo minds it. Not at all). Before he can say anything else, though, the kid is closing his eyes tightly, letting out a soft noise of protest. S-shit...
"Mmmm... must it be?" Taka replies, burying his head deeper into Mondo's chest, snuggling down in absolute contentment. Mondo is positive his heart literally implodes then, and dear /god/ would he be willing to just lounge in bed all day, good fucking /god/, would he. But he... he knows they can't. Taka had mentioned the night before how he wanted to do some homework before he met up with Hina for their 'swimming date' (as the chick apparently calls them. It's a good fucking thing he knows that the chick is gay now...), which will be happening at 8:00. While that's still an hour and a half away, he knows Taka also likes to have breakfast and shit like that, too, he's so fucking structured. And... besides. Mondo has stuff he's gotta do, too. Even if he really, really doesn't wanna get up...
But they've gotta. And he's the big brother, so...
With a soft chuckle, finding the sleepy boy to be fucking /adorable/ (what else is new), he raises his hand to run gentle fingers through Taka's hair, unable to help himself. Yeah, he's gotta make sure the kid gets up and does the stuff he wants to do, but he can at least have this... right? And the kid seems to like it if the pleased hum is anything to go by...
"Yeah, sorry. Ya wanted ta do homework an' shit 'fore yer thing with Hina, 'member? 'Sides. I, uh... got some things ta get. If, uh... ya still wanna go out tonight. Y'ain't gotta, but if ya do... well..."
The kid stirs more at that, wriggling around in his arms. It makes Mondo want to tighten them, wanting to stop the kid from leaving, but he knows he doesn't have that right, so he keeps his arms carefully loose around the kid. But then the kid stops wriggling, settling back down in his arms, eyes still closed. Oh... s-shit...
"Mmm... yes, I know... I'd still like to go, kyoudai... but, mmm... don't want to... get up..."
The slightly whiny words make him chuckle again, something so utterly precious about the unusual sight. Taka doesn't usually protest waking up like this and fuck... is it adorable... unable to help himself, he leans down and presses a warm kiss to the top of the kid's head, getting a whiff of the citrus scented shampoo slash conditioner he always uses. It makes him feel... oddly flushed... s-shit...
"Heh, yeah. Me neither. But it ain't gotta be a problem. Got shit ta do. We can, uh... we can sleep over again tonight. If ya want..."
Fuck, does he want that... he knows he shouldn't make the offer, knows that they shouldn't keep doing this shit (_knows that it means so much more to him than it does to Taka_), they've 'slept over' the past two nights already, but… but he can't help at least offering. If... if Taka wants...
"Y-yes... yes, kyoudai... I think I'd like that!"
The sleepy yet still enthusiastic words make him smile brightly, his arms tightening despite himself. It's then that he realizes his lips are still pressed lightly to the top of the kid's head. And while he doesn't fucking mind (doesn't mind /at all/), he... he prolly should stop doing that shit.
Pulling away a little, Mondo stretches as he gets ready to exit the bed and go about his fucking day. He... he really doesn't wanna, but... shit. Ain't like he has a choice...
"Then we should get up. C'mon, kyoudai. Got the whole world waitin' fer us."
Mondo does manage to rip himself from the kid's side then, so fucking reluctantly. He almost heads straight back to bed when he hears Taka let out a soft noise of disappointment. He doesn't— narrowly— and instead forces his feet to keep walking over to his dresser, where all his fucking clothes are now folded neatly and put away. Thanks again, Taka...
It's as he's shirking off his tank carelessly, mind a jumbled mess, that he realizes he still feels the sensation of bright red eyes watching him. It makes his body flare red hot, a subtle heat pooling low in his gut, but it... shit. It's not fucking bad. He turns to face the kid, wanting to see if he's just imagining it or not, but nope. There the kid is, lounging in Mondo's bed, wearing only his thin undershirt that is so stretched out it's falling slightly off his shoulder and his briefs, unwavering eyes watching him intently. S-shit...
It's when he sees the kid blush bright red, embarrassment plain on his face, that Mondo finds himself blurting out words he definitely doesn't plan in advance. Fuck...
"I don't mind. Ya... ya watchin'. I mean... shit. Ain't gotta feel awkward 'bout it. Happens."
He doesn't know why he says it, his body flaring red hot, but he finds he... he actually fucking means it. He... he doesn't mind. Taka watching him change. I-it should be weird, feeling his kyoudai's eyes on him as he undresses, but it... it most definitely is not... shit...
He turns back to his dresser quickly, hands clumsy as they reach for his sleep pants (which he's taken to wearing recently, as the nights get colder), removing them clumsily, leaving him in only a pair of boxer shorts. And it- it ain't like he's never been around the kid in only his underwear before, shit, but this... this time feels different. Because this time... this time the kid is fucking /watching him/, his eyes intent, holy shit.
Unable to help it, after a moment Mondo turns back to face the kid, wanting more proof that he's still watching, needing to... to /know/. He has a new tank on, but he's still bared below the waist, outside of the new pair of boxers he's wearing (and he tries to ignore the fact the kid had been watching him then, too. When he... he'd... s-shit. Just... shit), and he's sure the fucking tent he's sporting is noticeable. He knows he shouldn't be fucking /aroused/, but he decides to not think about it, alright? It- it doesn't fucking matter. He's a teenage dude. Teenage dudes get boners just because the wind blew in a different direction, it ain't fucking /weird/, okay?
It makes the /arousal/ even worse when he sees that Taka is, indeed, still looking. And he... the kid, he... he doesn't look away. Not even when Mondo makes eye contact, his face bright red, but his eyes still intent. Still... s-still... h-holy shit...
Body flaring hot again, he finally turns back around, tongue too tied to say anything. But he... he can't help the small, decidedly /pleased/ smile that rises upon his lips, the rising heat within him so fucking pleasant...
It doesn't take him long after that to finish dressing (even with how much slower he seems to be going today than most other days, though he definitely ain't putting on a fucking /show/, fuck you for suggesting that, brain), all of his usual gear on. His tank and his loose black pants, as well as his /komainu/ belt that Daiya bought him as a present for his fourteenth birthday. His duster is over on a hook by the door, the kid managing to convince him to start hanging it up instead of tossing it carelessly on a chair or the fucking desk (and by 'managing to convince him,' he means Taka had given him a wide eyed, beguiling look, and he'd crumbled like sand before it. Like fucking always... he tries to put on an inconvenienced air when doing it, but they both know he doesn't mean it), but he won't put that on until he's ready to leave.
It's then that he fully notices how fucking sleepy the kid still looks. It's unusual for Taka to laze about, like... ever. He's usually the first one to get out of bed, his determination so bright even immediately after he wakes. To see him still lounging in bed even after Mondo has finished dressing himself... hm... it's very concerning. Even if it's also super fucking cute...
As such, he finds himself striding over to the bed, taking a seat as he looks down at Taka. After a moment, he reaches out with his hand and brushes across the kid's forehead, pushing aside the fringe Taka has been leaving down more and more often these days. His heart lurches when he sees the kid close his eyes at the motion, a soft hum of contentment releasing from his lips wondrously, making him chuckle lowly.
However, while he does like touching the kid casually like this, he has an ulterior reason for doing it today. With how lazy the kid is acting, part of him is worried that Taka is fucking sick or something, since this is unlike him. His forehead isn't overly warm, though, so hopefully that means he doesn't have a fever, at least...
"Heh... ya sure are cute, all sleepy like this... shit, though, y'ain't sick, are ya? Ain't usu'ly this, uh... what's the word ya use... lethargic, or shit? If yer not feelin' well..."
Taka blinks his eyes open at his words, his nose wrinkling a little. The kid then pushes aside Mondo's hand, sitting up with a stretch. Mondo can tell that he's still not at one hundred percent, but he doesn't seem unwell, at least... shit. Maybe he's just sleepy? Like, maybe he didn't sleep well last night or something... hm. He gets distracted from his worry, though, as his eyes refuse to tear away from the kid's body as he stretches his arms over his head. As rumpled as the kid is, the action makes his shirt ride up a bit, allowing Mondo to see a hint of Taka's toned abs, which... s-shit...
"I am perfectly fine, kyoudai! I simply am tired, that is all! I do not get... /sick/," the kid says after a moment, giving him an indignant look that Mondo knows is the kid's version of joking. However, something tells Mondo that he ain't joking about what he says... ha. It would be just like Taka to be too stubborn to get sick. It makes Mondo snort with laughter, a small smirk on his lips.
"Yer so full a' goddamn shit, Ishimaru. Everyone gets sick. Y'ain't that special," Mondo lies, because Taka definitely /is/ that fucking special, honestly. The kid doesn't respond immediately and instead just stands up, heading over to the dresser (where he's been storing one or two of his uniforms for the mornings after he sleeps over), body teetering slightly. That concerns Mondo, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything before the kid is finally responding.
"Not Kiyotaka Ishimaru! My dedication and enthusiasm keeps me from illness! Besides... it's not like I can afford to be sick! S-since I would hate to miss school!"
Ah... yeah, he guesses that makes sense. It fucking /sucks/ and makes him wanna punch something, but he gets it. Mondo himself rarely gets sick, his immune system actually pretty fucking good, but he knows how illness can wipe a person straight out sometimes. And of course Taka would be the kind to hate that kinda shit. He prolly would force himself to go to school even if he were literally dying, the kid is that fucking devoted. It makes Mondo feel sick to hear, though, and he suddenly needs the kid to know that it ain't gotta be like that anymore. That... that he's got /Mondo/ now to take care of him, and that he never needs to worry about being sick ever again. Not alone, at least. Being sick sucks, yeah, but it can be bearable when with the right person. Daiya was always so fucking incredible when he'd get sick...
Mondo approaches Taka on quiet feet as the kid begins pulling on his fresh undershirt, his hand rising to brush the kid's side almost unbidden. He can feel the muscles beneath his fingers clench as Taka gasps, and it... heh. Shit. Shit. Moving on...
"Yeh, don't surprise me. But, uh... if ya do get sick... ya'll tell me, yeah? I don't want ya ta suffer alone. Y'ain't gotta deal with nothin' alone anymore, Kiyo. Not when I'm here. Got it?"
Taka looks over his shoulder then, bright red meeting his eye, and he... he...
"I promise, kyoudai. You will be the first person I tell. Now! I must finish dressing! I have wasted enough time lazing about!"
It makes Mondo chuckle to hear the kid sound so much like himself again, though he can tell that Taka is still not feeling super great. But… shit. The kid promised that he'd tell him if he gets sick and Mondo feels inclined to believe him. If he says he ain't sick... then fuck, he ain't fucking sick. End of.
Silence descends around them then as Taka finishes getting dressed. While Mondo knows he shouldn't, he can't quite force his eyes away from watching the kid as he changes. It's honestly kind of interesting to see, since the outfit is so fucking complicated. Watching him lace up those fucking boots alone is a goddamn workout, and he ain't even the one doing it, Jesus Christ...
When Taka finishes dressing, the kid straightening up and pinning his little medal to his lapel (as that part of the jacket is apparently called), Mondo finds himself letting out a small, appreciative hum. Taka gives him a confused look, which makes him smirk and shrug in response. He hasn't forgotten the kid's fear from the day before, after all.
"Ya look good, Taka. Like yerself again. Yer costume yesterday was nice an' all, but this... this is my kyoudai. My Taka. S'all."
The flush that blooms on Taka's cheeks at the compliment is strangely addicting and Mondo realizes he is slowly coming to crave the expression... even more so when the kid smiles and bites his lip, h-holy shit... it's so...
"T-thank you, kyoudai! I must admit... while it was, er... /interesting/, to wear that costume yesterday, I am happy to be back in my uniform! It is much more comfortable!"
Mondo chuckles yet again, his eyes rolling when the kid looks at him curiously, feeling as a grin rises on his lips. Because... of course the kid would say that. Of fucking course. Ha.
"'Course ya'd say that. Yer uniform looks uncomfortable as shit, but 'course ya like it. Ya fuckin' nerd."
"It is not uncomfortable at all, I assure you! Perhaps, if you were to try to wear the uniform the school provides-"
"Oh, please. Not this shit again. I ain't wearin' that shit. Not a fuckin' nerd."
He watches as Taka scowls, his hands going to his hips, mock offense rising in his eyes. Mondo can tell that he's just being playful and isn't actually upset, though, based on the way his eyes are shining. S-shit, he looks so fucking good when he's being all playful like this... it's such a good look on him, Christ...
"You say that like it's a bad thing! What is wrong with being a 'nerd?'" Taka asks, using... using fucking /air quotes/ around the word nerd. Like the fucking lame ass nerd that he is, holy shit. He has told the kid so many times to stop doing that shit, calling it lame (it fucking /is/), but the kid purposely doesn't listen. He swears, anyone who tries to say that Taka ain't petty as hell is a goddamn liar... but damn him if he doesn't adore it...
The words do give him pause, though, as he realizes he's kind of fucking trapped. See, he calls Taka a nerd all the fucking time (since he absolutely is one, Christ), and if he says there's something wrong with looking like a nerd... shit.
"Aw, shut the fuck up! Maybe a nerd like ya can pull off the nerd look, but I ain't like that. My gang'd fuckin' kill me if they ever caught sight a' me in that lame getup. Now, the fuck is the point of this conversation? Fuckin' /asinine/. Hurry the fuck up an' get outta my room, ya fucker."
While his words could come across as angry or annoyed, Mondo feels anything but as he looks at Taka, his insides feeling all soft and gooey. Mondo's lips are smiling softly, and his eyes feel like they've got literal hearts in them, and he just... ugh. This kid... he sure does bring out the sappiness in Mondo, doesn't he...? But damn him if he minds. It gets even worse (or better...? He legit cannot tell) when Taka smiles at him brightly, the whole fucking sun on his face as he beams. Goddamn...
"Hm... fine, if that is what you wish, kyoudai! I will head and make myself some tea, then! Will you… 'text me' when you are ready? For later?"
Mondo blinks as the kid uses fucking air quotes again (/NERD/), before a bright smile rises on his face, reminded immediately of their ride later. Oh, shit. He'd not forgotten about it, no, but... shit, he's so fucking excited, goddamn!
"Hell yeah! I'll prolly be busy most a' the day gettin' the shit we'll need together, but I'll text ya when it's all ready. Should be 'round 4:00 or such, right 'fore sunset. I'll see ya later, yeah? Have fun studyin' an' shit."
Taka smiles brightly again, and then... then...
The kid... he...
He /fucking walks over to him and hugs him tightly./
Gah!
S-shit... oh, shit, this feels so... f-fuck. Taka rarely initiates hugs between the two of them, though he has made it pretty fucking clear that he enjoys receiving them perfectly fine, with his happy little sounds and his coy as fuck looks afterwards. And Mondo is okay with that, you know? He knows the kid has his problems and that some things are harder for him to deal with, and it's fine. Mondo is more than man enough to initiate contact and shit like that. He's even gotten so good at reading Taka that he can usually tell when contact would be appreciated and when it wouldn't.
But this...? Having Taka wrap his arms around him unprompted, laying his head on his chest, body warm against his... o-oh god, it feels so nice... his arms can't help but wrap around the kid as tight as he dares, never wanting to let him go. He... he never does...
"I shall see you later, my kyoudai!" Taka exclaims as he pulls back, his smiles bright and happy. Mondo absently lifts his hand to brush back the kid's hair again, since it keeps falling in his eyes.
"Heh, yeah... see ya later, kyoudai. Don't, uh... don't forget yer gift, 'kay? S' on the dresser."
Mondo pulls back, then, cheeks warmer than they should be. He honestly had almost forgotten the gift himself but had been reminded of it randomly when Taka had hugged him. Feeling way too much for his own good, Mondo figures it would be good to strategically retreat (not flee, he ain't no fucking coward) into the bathroom to do his business. He can't help but sneak one last glance in before he closes the door, and feels his heart almost stop when he sees Taka biting his lip again, looking at the box with the softest expression he's ever seen the kid wear on his gorgeous as fuck face. God... he's so fucking attractive...
But that sorta thought is stupid to have. Mondo is wide awake now and he knows he can't be thinking of shit like that about his kyoudai. Pushing it all aside very firmly, he closes the door quietly and heads to the toilet to relieve himself. Once that is done, he washes his hands (he's not a heathen, shit) and grabs his hair supplies that Taka has organized for him on the counter. His heart wants to flutter at the reminder of how utterly /perfect/ Taka is, but he shoves it down because dear god is it inappropriate.
It's as he's gotten out his comb and detangler and is trying to carefully untangle the rat's nest that his hair has become that he hears Taka call to him from the main room. His heart pounds strangely as he hears the kid say, so fucking earnestly, "Goodbye, kyoudai! I hope you have a good day!"
It makes him fumble with his comb, the thing falling out of his tingling fingers and onto the counter noisily, but he doesn't fucking care. Pleasant heat back inside him, he faces the closed door, imagining the kid standing on the other side, a smile bright on his lips.
"See ya, kyoudai!" he calls back, waiting a second to see if Taka says anything else. When several seconds pass and Taka doesn't, he lets out a soft, /disappointed/ sigh and turns back to the mirror, picking up the comb to get back to work.
Detangling his mess of curls always takes a few minutes, but soon enough the comb slides through with ease, his hair shiny from the spray. He doesn't focus on it and just lets his body go on autopilot as he goes about getting his hair into its usual style. He barely even thinks as he uses nearly half a can of his super strong hairspray to get his hair to defy gravity and keep in his bold as fuck style.
He lets his mind wander while doing the mindless task, fantasizing about his and Taka's ride that night, imagining all the things he wants to do. He... he needs this ride to be absolutely perfect, a way to show Taka how much the kid means to him. He needs to make up for the disgusting way he acted the day before, and so he needs to make this trip the best one ever. But… just... how...?
Mondo lets his mind run through his plans for the entire time he does his hair, frowning gently as he thinks. He already has a vague idea of what he wants to do with the kid, but... shit. Will it be /enough/? The kid deserves the world, absolutely /everything/, so will... will anything he does be at all enough for such an incredible person? He... he has no idea, none at all, and as he takes his straighter to straighten his natural hair, he can't help the nerves that flood him. God, does he want today to be perfect... god, is he terrified that it won't be...
He pushes all of the thoughts and fears aside when he finally finishes his pomp, sighing softly. Well, there ain't much he can do about it. He's already decided upon this course of action, so... shit. Gotta see it fucking through. Hopefully Taka likes nature and sunsets and picnics and shit like that...
Once his hair is done, Mondo goes about the rest of his routine, shaving the stubble on his chin and legs (shit's uncomfortable, alright?!), as well as using the moisturizer he fucking hates but knows he has to use.
Once he's finally done, he heads back into the bedroom and grabs his phone, staring at it for a minute as he tries to determine the best person to call for the favor that he wants to cash in. He has so many fucking people indebted to him (or Daiya, whose debts transferred over to him when he... shit, never mind) at this point that he could literally call just about any of his contact list, really. But he needs someone who is reliable, local, and can get this shit done before 4:00. And, of course, who knows how to keep their fucking mouth shut. That makes the list decidedly smaller, but as he scrolls his contacts, he sees a name that makes him grin, knowing that he'll be perfect. Even if he is a goddamn bastard.
As he clicks the name and presses his crappy phone to his ear, he contemplates how he can make this request without sounding like a fucking jackass...
"Daisuke's Mechanics. The fuck can I do fer ya?" Mondo hears a gruff voice grunt on the other end of the line, making him grin at the familiar tone. Shit... it's been ages since he last talked to this jackass. Not since... shit. Never fucking mind...
"Hey, Suks. Got a favor ta cash in. Need it quick, think ya can help?" Mondo replies, taking a seat on his bed as he waits for the response. Which thankfully doesn't take long.
"Oh, shit, if it ain't lil' Mondo Fuckin' Owada, goddamn. How the fuck is it goin', kid? S'only been, what... a year, two, since ya last called? 'Course y'only break yer silence ta ask fer somethin', ya kids are all the same," Daisuke chuckles, his voice a lot warmer than it had been at first. Mondo feels a little annoyed at being called a fucking /kid/, but he lets it slide, knowing Daisuke doesn't mean anything by it. 'Sides, he's known this fucker since he literally was a snot nosed little kid, so he guesses the old biker has earned it.
"Aw, shut the fuck up, ya old bastard. Been fuckin' busy, ya know what it's like. I've been doin' fine, leadin' the gang an' all. But, uh, that ain't what I called fer. I need some gear by tonight. Yer in Tokyo now, yeah? So am I, so, uh-"
Mondo gets cut off by Daisuke snorting at him, the utter bastard. He knows the man well enough to imagine the smirk on his smug as fuck face. God fucking damn... this is one of the reasons he hasn't called this shit head in so fucking long...
"Oh, yeah? Yer just 'in Tokyo' now? Like I don't fuckin' know that yer attendin' that pretentious as fuck institute. Ya don't call me since yer brother died, an' all I fuckin' get is 'I've been busy,' 'fore ya go on with yer request. Well, if ya want me ta do whatever the fuck ya need done, yer gonna hafta give more detail than that, squirt. How the fuck did that even happen? Didn't think Hope's fuckin' Peak would be the kind ta take in a biker. Ain't like ya don't deserve it, but damn, kid. Goin' places, ain't ya?"
Mondo feels tense as Daisuke talks, his breath just a touch ragged. For no fucking reason, of course, so he pushes it down and scowls, his voice tight and annoyed as he speaks again. Why exactly did he decide to ask this particular fucker again...?
"Oh, shut the goddamn fuck up, Jesus Christ. I didn't call ta get grilled, goddamnit. Yeah, I'm at fuckin' Hope's Peak. No, I ain't got any fuckin' idea why, but it ain't like I could fuckin' say no, right? I ain't a moron. Almost been expelled a couple a' times, but somehow, I'm still here, so... fuck. Dunno. Anyway. Can we /please/ fuckin' get back ta the reason I called? Swear yer turnin' inta an' ol' gasbag, Christ."
Mondo breathes heavily as silence descends around them, the old biker clearly thinking about something. It does not bode well for him, not at all, and when Daisuke speaks again, his voice is softer and full of fucking /pity/, which instantly raises Mondo's hackles. Oh, this ain't gonna be good...
"Shit... yeah, yeah, fine. Just... it's good ta hear from ya, kid. After what happened with Dai... shit. Know it wasn't easy fer ya, 'specially with how ya shut everyone out after. Know the life of a biker's a lonely one, but y'ain't gotta push everyone away, kid. Ya got people who care, even if it don't feel like it sometimes." Daisuke pauses here, before letting out a low chuckle. "Now, 'nough chick flick shit. Whaddya need, kid? Y'know the kinda shit I got access ta. This gonna be a legal venture or a, uh... less legal one? Either's fine with me, just figured it might be good ta know. So? Whatsit gonna be?"
Mondo can feel his body shaking as he stares blankly at the wall, his breath more ragged than he'd ever admit it to be. Jesus fucking Christ, but if this bastard hadn't been the one to teach Daiya all about starting a gang and shit, not to mention being the one to get him his first hog and help him fix it up, and then later getting him a job at his mechanic shop, amongst other things... shit. He owes Daisuke a whole hell of a lot, he knows that, but Jesus /fucking/ Christ...
But he needs the fucker's help. So, stowing his anger at the way the old biker had spoken to him, he finally gets down to business.
"Shit. Whatever. This shit's legal an' it shouldn't be too hard fer ya ta do. I just need a helmet an' some safety gear. Takin' a friend out fer a ride an', uh... they want gear 'fore we go. Like I said, need it by tonight, can pick it up 'round 3:00. An' make it the good shit, yeah? Know ya- ya owed Daiya fer helpin' ya deal with that gang that tried ta run ya out, so... yeah. Cashin' that shit in."
The line goes quiet again after that, which makes Mondo feel oddly nervous. He knows this is a strange request from him, considering his hatred of safety gear and shit like that, but he's hoping that Daisuke will just accept it and not make a big deal of it.
But no. Of fucking course not...
"Shit... the fuck kinda 'friend' ya got that wants prissy shit like that, huh? An' yer really gonna cash in a favor that fuckin' big on some simple shit like this? Jesus, kid, this must be some 'friend' ta do that shit." There's another pause, before a loud bark of a laugh rings out, causing Mondo's hackles to rise. Shit, this ain't gonna be good, is it…? "Oh, wait. This wouldn't happen ta be a 'lady friend,' would it? Heh, tryin' ta impress the ladies? 'Bout fuckin' time. Always wondered when ya'd start takin' a more active interest in the finer sex an' all tha-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Mondo barks angrily, his face on fire, body standing and fists clenching menacingly despite the fact he's alone in the room. He can't stop how his heart is racing, his body shaking at the influx of emotion that is raging through him, even though there's /no fucking reason for it/, s-shit... "This ain't fuckin' like that! It's just... he's a fuckin' friend, that's fuckin' all! I just... want him ta feel fuckin' safe an' shit. He... he ain't like us, ya know? Don't like takin' risks an' shit. I just... shit. I don't gotta explain this shit ta you! Ya gonna do this shit or not?!"
Another long pause. And then-
"Shit... ya've really got it bad, don'tcha, kid? But knowin' you an' yer bro's thing 'bout 'likin' both'... heh. Shit. But, uh... whatever, none a' my business. Yeah, I can do this shit. Got some nice helmets and pads in the other day, legit shit too. Should keep yer, uh... friend... safe, should anythin' happen. Won't even cost ya yer favor, it ain't like this is gonna be a fuckin' challenge. I mean, really, kid... know that after what happened ya were desperate ta prove that ya could do this shit alone. But... shit. Ya know Dai wouldn't want ya shuttin' yerself off from ev'ryone. 'M fuckin' glad ya got someone ya care 'bout 'nough ta do shit like this fer 'em, but just... shit, kid. My door's always open if ya need it, ya hear me? Don't mind doin' small shit like this fer ya, no charge. Got it?"
Mondo is still shaking, his heart clenching in his chest, his teeth bared in an unbidden snarl. He feels like a caged animal, trapped and useless, and he fucking /hates/ feeling like that. Daiya... what the fuck would this bastard know about what Daiya would or wouldn't want, huh?! Yeah, sure, the two had been close, Daiya often likening the old, retired biker turned mechanic to a second father, a /good/ father, but... s-shit. Shit.
Mondo... Mondo used to be close to the bastard, too. He guesses. Back when he was little. After Daiya had run into the bastard while running from the police for stealing some food for them when Mondo had been a babe, the older biker had let him hide out in his garage until the heat was gone and had then subsequently invited his bro back whenever he needed somewhere safe to go. Which Daiya would do... often. But Mondo was always less trusting of the dude than Daiya was, not liking how hulking he was, not back then. He'd sit in the corner of the old garage while Daiya worked, playing with a toy hog his bro had gotten him, tense as shit whenever Daisuke would come over to talk with him. He... he knew the bastard wasn't gonna hurt him, knew that Daiya wouldn't bring him around someone who would hurt him, and later he knew that the biker had more honor than that, but... shit. It got easier the older he got, the memories of his youth fading a little (though never enough), and once he started his growth spurt at twelve, he felt less like he was being crowded, but... just... shit.
But it ain't like he cut everyone off after Daiya... after he fucking /died/, alright? He- he still had his gang, and all his fucking contacts. He had just been so fucking busy. He still is, what with the gang and school and /Taka/. He- he doesn't have /time/ to worry about old acquaintances or shit like that. A-and maybe he could find the time to call Daisuke every so often, maybe even visit now that they're in the same city again, but... but... god, fuck, /whatever/. It don't matter. It just... don't fucking matter.
Mondo is still trying to figure out how to respond to that shit, part of him wanting to hang up and cash in a favor with some other bastard who won't be as fucking /judgmental/, but before he can, Daisuke talks again. And Mondo... Mondo can do nothing else but listen. Jesus fucking Christ...
"Look. I can tell yer bein' all uppity 'bout what I said, but it ain't like I mean it in a bad way. Just statin' facts like I see 'em. But ya know what? Don't fuckin' matter. I'll get yer gear, have it all set aside fer you an' yer friend. Know his size, or we gonna guess? Got all sorta shit at my shop, whatever ya need I prolly have. Want fuckin' knee pads an' shit too? Jacket?"
Mondo takes several deep breaths, knowing he needs to calm the fuck down. Fuck, he wishes he hadn't done this shit... yeah, he needs the gear and Suks (as he called him back when he was younger and had trouble saying longer names) is the best to get that kinda shit from, but he really didn't need this garbage today... he's already nervous enough, god...
But he's already here. The worst of it is (hopefully) over, and he just... just needs to get the shit. And hope that the bastard has the common sense to leave him the fuck alone when he heads over to pick his shit up. Un-fucking-likely, but hey. A dude can dream...
"Ya know what? Fine. But I swear ta Christ, Suks, if ya bring this shit up again later... god fucking damn. Anyway, I don't know his size, but I bet a medium'd fit him. Got him a jacket the other day, so he should be good fer that shit, but... he'd prolly want knee shit, yeah. Fuckin' pansy ass bitch, but eh, whatever. I got other shit ta do today, but I'll be 'round at 3:00 ta grab the shit, got it? An' I fuckin' mean it when I say ya better not bring any a' this shit up again. Know I owe ya a hell ofa lot more than you owe me, but I ain't gonna let any shit slide. Ya know the kinda shit I've hadta do this last year an' a half ta make sure no one fuckin' messes with me. Don't wanna start shit if I don't hafta, but... shit. Just... leave it. Alright? Fuckin'... leave it."
Daisuke sighs softly, and Mondo can imagine the man nodding his head slowly, weary at having to deal with a teenager again. Mondo knows the dude never married, his longtime girlfriend and love of his life having been killed in a crossfire years before he and Daiya met the dude, which led the man to leave his gang and start up his questionable mechanic shop, but... he also knows the man had always wanted kids. Kinda like Mondo always has, if only to prove that he ain't too fucked up for that kinda shit. As such, Daisuke was always the kind to attract the street kids, one of the rare, good dudes who was actually willing to help them out without asking for much in return, simply wanting to give them a leg up in this dog-eat-dog world of theirs. He has it in good authority that Daiya was always his favorite, of course. Mondo... less so, but eh, he gets it. He always was more 'difficult' than his bro...
Anyway. Point is, he knows that he's not the easiest to deal with, but Daisuke doesn't mention it. He just lets out a grunt of acceptance and moves on. It makes Mondo feel a little bad, but like fuck can he do shit like /apologize/...
"Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say, ya fuckwad. Do ya a huge favor, an' this is the thanks I get? Remind me why the fuck I do this shit again?" Daisuke grumbles, but he continues before Mondo has a chance to reply. Prolly for the better, honestly. "But yeah, I got it. Won't make ya feel shit like /emotions/, wouldn't wanna make ya hurt yerself. 'Member what it's like, being sixteen an' stupid, ya know. Anyway, I'll let ya get back ta the 'things' ya got goin' on. See ya later, squirt."
With that, Daisuke hangs up the phone, the drone of the dial tone buzzing harsh in his ear. Mondo lets it buzz for a moment before closing his phone slowly, letting out a slow, deep breath. Shit... as tense and aggravating as that conversation was, Mondo has to admit that... that it was kinda nice. Talking to the old bastard again. He and Daiya used to spend hours in his shop, after all, especially after their da left but before their ma died. While Daiya was always closer to the dude than he was, he... he doesn't feel nothing towards the old biker. And it was just kinda nice.
But he has more shit to do today, and he doesn't have all that much time. Between his routine and the phone call, about an hour and a half has passed since he woke, so now it's around 8:00. He still has eight fucking hours before he and Taka head out for the night, but... still. He still wants to make sure this shit is perfect, ya know?
Putting everything that isn't his plans for that evening out of his mind, Mondo exits his room and heads out to the dining hall, figuring he should eat a quick breakfast before heading out to grab the rest of the supplies he thinks he'll need for their evening. He's not super hungry, his stomach churning with nerves just a bit too much for that, but he knows he should eat anyway. He learned his lesson about inadvertently starving himself for weeks after Daiya died and he almost passed out in front of a rival gang, he was so malnourished. Michi made sure he got his act together after that, and now he knows he has to keep a steady diet going even if he isn't hungry. Or else...
Once in the dining hall, he spots Leon sitting beside Chihiro, the pair closer than is likely acceptable between a dude and a chick, which makes Mondo smirk, some humor entering him again. Mondo isn't afraid to say that Leon can be kinda vapid and shallow, but it's clear that the dude feels something for the mousy programmer. And while he thinks the chick still is a bit into him (if the looks she gives him in class are anything to go by), he also can see that she has some interest in the musician, too. Heh, maybe one day they'll wise up and confess their mutual attraction to one another. Maybe even before school ends in three years, who knows.
He heads over to them once he grabs some breakfast from the buffet style breakfast bar the school provides, lifting his hand in a wave when they catch sight of him. They both smile and wave back, Chihiro's cheeks turning a light pink as she looks away shyly. Heh.
Mondo enters into casual conversation with the two as he and Leon eat, Chihiro mostly sitting there and talking when spoken to. Mondo can't help his curiosity about why she's not eating breakfast like they are, and so he asks her about it casually. He finds himself a little shocked when she blushes brighter and stammers that she'd eaten earlier with Taka, of all people, after she ran into him in the halls, and they mended their friendship. Well, she doesn't say the last part, but Mondo can read between the lines. Mondo isn't sure he likes the way the chick is looking at him as she says it, like she's worried he wouldn't approve or something, but he does his best to ignore it as he nods slowly, frowning down at his food. Shit, but Taka sure as hell has been getting close to a lot of chicks lately, hasn't he...? First Hina, then Sakura, then Maizono, now Chihiro (again)... hm.
Honestly, though, Mondo is glad that Taka is talking to Chihiro again. He's been feeling bad about ruining Taka and Chihiro's friendship for over a month now, so... he's glad that Taka was able to mend that shit. Leon seems a bit less happy about it, if his pissy little frown is anything to go by, but Mondo is fairly certain his issue is less with Taka personally and has more to do with /jealousy/, ha. Part of him wants to tease the dude about it, but he really doesn't want Leon firing back at him. Punching people in the face is nice and all, but he has a feeling it would ruin his day with Taka.
It doesn't take long for Mondo to finish his meal, even with his still churning gut. Usually, Mondo would hang around and keep talking to his friend and to Chihiro (who... may be a friend...? Maybe?) even after finishing, but he knows he shouldn't waste too much time. And so, after he finishes— about half an hour after he sat down— he waves goodbye and says he will see the pair later. He can see Leon frowning at him at the unusual behavior, but Chihiro doesn't seem to think anything of it. She just smiles and nods, saying she hopes he has a good day. Mondo nods in return, gives them one last wave, before throwing his trash away and heading outside to his baby.
The rest of the morning goes by fairly quickly, Mondo finds, as he heads to a local mall (an indoor one, a bit further from the one they all went to that one day but is larger and has a wider range of stores) to grab the things he needs. He doesn't usually allow himself to wander around places like malls and shit, as lame as it is, but he knows he needs some specific stuff, so a mall might be in his best interest.
He does thankfully find a place that sells the shit he's looking for, but it takes him a while to choose between the selection of baskets that the store offers. The main cause of concern is that he needs one that will fit neatly in his small-ish side storage, right? Mondo is fairly good with sizes and shit, and he can tell that most of the selection just wouldn't fit, which frustrates him.
However, just when he's about to give up and go with a different plan (maybe... maybe he can use a bag...? Yeah, it won't have the same effect, but...), he finds the perfect basket. It's a bit on the small side, but it at least looks like it will fit in his storage, which is his main concern. Plus, it looks the part, more than a fucking bag would, which is what he cares most about. It's also not super pricy, which is nice.
Mondo buys it, feeling super fucking pleased, then goes about grabbing the second item he needs, which is a thick blanket. This store is out of such blankets, unfortunately, so he heads back into the mall, wandering around until he finds something that will work well enough, which he finally does after a few minutes. It's a bit more expensive than he'd like, but eh. Whatever, right? It's for Taka, which makes it worth it. Taka... Taka is worth everything. Absolutely everything.
With that done, he heads back to his hog, carefully maneuvering his goods into his storage, a little nervous at the thought that he got the size wrong. Luckily, it just barely fits, which makes him sigh with relief. Fuck, but part of him was worried that his mental mapping was wrong and that it wouldn't fit... thankfully not, heh.
He hops on his hog then and takes a drive around the city, realizing he's a bit earlier than he'd anticipated, so he allows himself to enjoy riding his hog. He's not had much time to just drive recently, not since he and Taka became friends, so it's nice and helps clear his head. Fuck, but there ain't nothing better than driving on his hog, wind in his hair, he'll say that. He... he really hopes Taka agrees...
As he drives, he passes by a market selling some fresh-looking produce amongst other things, and he decides to stop by and check it out. Maybe they'll have some things the school doesn't, who knows.
He spends another half an hour wandering the stalls of the little market, looking critically at the produce and meat they offer. The school has certain foods available for the students to use for cooking included in the cost of their scholarship, such as fresh fruits and vegetables, rice, milk, eggs, and bread, amongst other baking supplies, but they rarely offer things like high quality meat. Sometimes they'll have lower quality shit like stringy chicken or pork, maybe some tilapia, but that's not often.
As such, he finds himself buying some relatively inexpensive luncheon meat from a small deli, smiling awkwardly at the dude manning the booth, wondering if Taka will like it. He knows Taka usually eats the same shit every day, some rice balls he makes every Friday evening for the rest of the week, as well as a cheap protein, some salad and fresh fruit, milk... a healthy, balanced meal, usually. He doesn't tend to eat meat, but Mondo is fairly certain that's more because he can't afford it than him not liking it. He'd liked the beef from yesterday, after all, so... but... hm.
Well, he supposes he'll just have to have some backup things in case Taka /doesn't/ like the shit he plans to make. It's not like Mondo knows much about cooking, given how Daiya was always the one to deal with that shit growing up, and Mondo honestly could never be bothered to learn himself /after/. But he thinks he knows enough about western food to figure out how to make some sandwiches, honestly. It's really the simplest dish possible, just two slices of bread, some fillings, and boom. A meal. Easy.
Mondo sighs softly as he exits the market and finally heads back to the school. It's about 12:45 when he arrives, lunch ending in about fifteen minutes, so Mondo wanders to the dining hall and gets himself something small. He doesn't see his friends in the hall, unfortunately, so he sits in the corner by himself and eats his meal slowly. He won't be able to make his and Taka's dinner until after lunch finishes and the kitchen is open again, so he isn't exactly in a rush. He has a little under two hours to make the sandwiches, which should be more than enough time, honestly. He doesn't need to make anything too fancy, just... something basic.
As soon as lunch ends, Mondo throws away his trash and enters the kitchen, nodding politely at the kitchen staff who are cleaning the room. He knows he's allowed to be in here, though, so he just heads to an open station and takes the meat he bought out of the basket, placing it down carelessly. He then heads to wash his hands (knowing Taka would object if he didn't), before grabbing some vegetables from the general bin and heading back to his station, doing his best to chop them as carefully as he can.
It... is a lot harder than he expected and Mondo wastes a lot of time trying to make the cuts as uniform as possible. He doesn't quite manage it, but it's good enough, he hopes. He isn't sure what kind of sandwich would be best, so he makes a bunch of different kinds. Turkey and mayo, ham and cheese, a classic BLT... while Mondo isn't the biggest fan of western food, he's okay with sandwiches and shit like that. Burgers are way too greasy for his liking, and he always gets so fucking confused about how to eat that shit without making the biggest fucking mess, but not all western food is garbage. Just... ninety percent of it. Certain sandwiches are okay, though.
It takes him about forty-five minutes before he finishes making all the sandwiches and has put them in little baggies, his forehead sweaty despite the fact he barely moved at all. But at least he's done and he's actually sorta proud of the food he made. It definitely won't win any awards, but for a first attempt... shit. Not bad. Now, here's hoping it tastes as good at it looks... heh.
As he heads to the cabinets to put the shit he borrowed away, he catches sight of something, and despite himself, he can't quite tear his eyes away from it. Nor can he make the stupid as shit thought that enters his head shut the fuck up, the little nagging desire growing stronger and stronger until he can't take it anymore and caves.
Grabbing the little bag of chocolate chips sitting innocently on the shelf, Mondo storms back to his station, frowning as he reads the simple recipe conveniently written on the back of the packaging. It's a little smeared and he can't quite read all of it, but... shit. It shouldn't be too difficult to make... right?
Wrong. Wrong. So fucking /wrong/, dear fucking Christ.
A little over half an hour later, Mondo grimaces down at the flat and yet also somehow lumpy looking dough balls that are resting innocently on the tray before him, more fed up than he's been... ever, prolly. Which is saying a lot, really. He is absolutely covered in flour and bits of dough that splattered out when he'd used the mixer improperly, and he is about one second away from screaming.
The worst part of it all is that he has the sneaking suspicion he fucked something up in the making process, since these cookies don't look quite right, even without being baked. They're all lumpy and kinda flat and he just... has no fucking idea what went wrong. He'd followed the recipe as best he could, honestly... of course, he had no idea what 'softened butter' meant, so he just melted the shit out of it... and he /did/ kind of mix up the salt and sugar briefly... but, in his defense, he had noticed in enough time to not have added too much salt, so it should be fine! ... right? And besides, the recipe /did/ say there should be some salt, so... ugh. Whatever. Part of him wants to scrap the whole thing and just move the fuck on, never mentioning it to anyone, but... shit. He's already gone this far, right? Might as well try to make this nightmare mean something…
Placing the highly dubious looking 'cookies' into the preheated oven, he turns back to his station and sets about cleaning it and his body up. He thankfully had put his duster off to the side before starting, but he'd neglected to put on an apron or shit like that, so his tank and pants are coated. He thinks his hair was spared from the dough, but he has no idea if any flour got in it. Ugh.
With a sigh, he grabs some cleanser and wipes up the counter first, not enjoying it but knowing that it's a requirement of using the kitchen. Plus, Taka would be mad if he ever found out Mondo hadn't cleaned up his own mess. It's a lot harder than he expected, and he has to use quite a bit of his muscle to get some of the ground in dough off the metal counters, but... shit. He /thinks/ he's got most of it cleaned...
He then sets about brushing the flour and dough off of him, grimacing as he realizes he's gonna have to change if he wants to be presentable. He kind of wishes there were a mirror in here so he can check his pomp, but he gets distracted when he smells the stench of something burning. And he jolts with horror as he realizes he'd forgotten to set a timer and his 'cookies' are now, regretfully, burning. Oh shit!
"Shit, shit, shit!" he mutters under his breath as he dashes towards the oven, feeling frazzled as he opens it up, coughing at the smoke. He grabs a rag and pulls out the tray, ignoring the heat as he puts it on the counter nearby.
He frowns down at the now darkened 'cookies,' wondering if he should just bin them or not, thinking that might just be for the better, even with how much effort he put into this crap. He doesn't even know why he made them in the first place, Christ. Ain't like he's ever baked anything before, you kidding him? Shit ain't manly. But before he can make up his mind, he catches sight of the clock and sees that it's 2:40, giving him about twenty minutes to get to Daisuke's shop to pick up his shit. Not to mention getting himself cleaned up. Shit! God fucking dammit!
Cursing louder, he decides to say 'fuck it' and grabs another cellophane bag, shoving the blackened disks into it and twisting it shut, hoping they're good enough. He then dumps all the food (and cookies, which he isn't sure qualifies as 'food' anymore) into the basket he bought, adding some paper plates and napkins and shit. He then heads quickly to the fridge and grabs one of the many preprepared meals Taka has set aside with his name neatly printed on a label, knowing the kid won't mind if he takes one. He grabs one of the ones with meat, some cooked chicken breast, since he knows Taka considers that 'fancy,' heh.
Despite his time constraint, Mondo allows himself a second to look at the kanji, his thumb brushing across it fondly, a soft smile rising on his lips. Since he and Taka have become friends, he's not been given nearly as many detention slips (though Taka has given him a couple, since Taka is Taka and Mondo is, of course, Mondo), and he's not had the ability to see this neat as fuck signature as often anymore. Taka had stumbled upon his drawer full of old detention slips and notes a couple days ago when cleaning, which had embarrassed the fuck out of him, but... thankfully, Taka hadn't mentioned it. He'd just smiled brightly, cheeks bright pink, and had organized the slips into some semblance of order and then just… put them back. Mondo doesn't even really know why he's been keeping them, just... s-shit. Whatever, not important.
Anyway... Mondo shakes himself out of it and places the container carefully into the basket, placing the folded-up blanket carefully on top. The lid closes easily, and he smiles softly to himself, honestly a little proud that he managed to do that shit, goddamn.
Sighing yet again, feeling strangely exhausted, he gingerly grabs his coat and heads to his room, eyes darting around to make sure he doesn't run into Taka.
Luckily, he doesn't, and he is able to change his shit quick enough, brushing the flour of his pomp with some annoyance. He does pause as he glances at his fancier shit in his drawers, the few button-up shirts and nicer slacks that Daiya always insisted he have access to folded neatly courtesy of Taka. He honestly debates whether or not he should put one on, but... shit, that's prolly a dumb idea, goddamn. Instead, he just gets dressed like normal and hurries out to his baby, leaving the basket, not wanting the food to get ruined prematurely.
Back on his hog, he feels the tension from the last two hours melt away, his body relaxing in a way it only does when he's riding his baby. Or when he's holding Taka, recently. Nothing matters when he's riding, really. Even his quickly diminishing time isn't as bad when he's flying down the road, wind in his hair. Ain't nothing better than this shit, fuck... other than being with Taka, of course.
It doesn't take Mondo too long to reach Daisuke's, around twenty minutes, but he knows he's a bit later than 3:00 like he'd said. Thank fuck he's never been anal about time like Taka, heh. As long as he's on time for picking up his kyoudai, he's fine.
Some tension creeps its way back into his shoulders as he gets off his baby, eyes darting around him anxiously. While the place actually looks pretty nice, not a dump like Daisuke's old garage had been, the neighborhood is not exactly a reputable one. He definitely makes sure to put on his antitheft shit, not wanting something to happen to his baby while he's getting his shit, goddamn.
He's definitely not anxious about seeing the old bastard again, not at all, so he firmly shoves down the feeling as he heads down the street towards the run-down looking mechanic shop that he knows is owned by the old bastard. When he reaches the door, he doesn't hesitate a second (_or maybe he does, just a little, but whatever, doesn't fucking matter_) to grab the door handle and yank the thing open, the fucking little bell ringing over his head.
He feels some tension leave his shoulders when he sees that the main room is devoid of other people, his eyes darting around the space like he always does when he's in a new area. It seems like a normal automotive shop, he thinks, looking at the counter and register taking up the top right corner of the room with some chairs sitting across from it. There's some merchandise in the main room, mostly car shit like oil and air fresheners and the like, as well as some motorcycle gear and supplies. It's not a bad selection, he's gotta admit, and he lets his eyes wander as he tries to settle the fucking stupid as shit nerves.
He loses his battle when he sees Daisuke swagger into the room, an eyebrow raised, smug as fuck like always. It makes Mondo scowl, his arms crossing defensively despite himself as his hackles rise. He can't stop how his eyes dart over the older man unbidden, however, noting the many similarities and the few differences he sees.
Daisuke has always been a large person, roughly 190 cm and 90 kilos, with bulging muscles that would make most men quiver in fear, and that has definitely not changed. He, obviously, still has those scars on his arms, showing the battles he's been in, not to mention all those tattoos all over his body, even on his neck, which Mondo knows makes it impossible for him to go many places without people starting at him fearfully. He never was with the /Yakuza/, not officially, but Mondo knows he's done some business with them in the past, earning him some tats. The man had always warned him and Daiya away from the group, though, which Mondo has most definitely done. He's even made sure to keep away from that Yakuza kid in the class above his, not wanting to get mixed up in that bullshit.
Now, as for the mechanic's outfit... it also seems to be the same, the simple grease-stained tank and ragged jeans identical to when Mondo was young. His shoulder length black hair is pulled back in a pony, and his beard is just a hint too long, but not unkempt, same as usual. He honestly looks very similar to how he did when Mondo was young, and yet... the closer Mondo looks, the more he can see the signs of age on the older man's face. He has more lines than Mondo remembers, not to mention some streaks of grey in his hair and beard that he doesn't recall seeing last time. Daisuke never told them his age, but Mondo figures he must be in his early to mid-forties at the youngest now, and it's starting to show, honestly.
And yet... there is something strangely soothing about seeing the older man again, even with the tension mounting inside him. He'd never admit this, not to anyone, but... well. He doesn't see the man like a father, not at all, but if he were able to choose... he thinks the man would be a decent one. Better than his da, anyway...
He shakes the thoughts and weird feelings away when he hears Daisuke speak a moment later, his voice as gruff and deep as always.
"Yer fuckin' late," the man grunts, shaking his head as a smirk rises on his lips, his brown eyes shining with internal mirth. It makes Mondo's scowl deepen, his nerves mounting. Which just means his anger is rising too...
"Shut the fuck up, ya bastard," he growls back, not wanting to deal with this nonsense. Not after the stressful afternoon he just had, god fucking damn. "I told ya I'd be here 'round 3:00, an' I fuckin' am. Had shit that needed ta be done, cut me some slack. Now, ya got the shit?"
Daisuke doesn't reply right away and instead just stares at him for a bit, eyes darting around his face and body, like he's doing what Mondo had just been doing and is updating his mental image of him. While Mondo knows he's not changed all that much since he was fourteen, he has gotten a bit taller and more muscular, and his face is squarer than it had been before, so he supposes the appraisal is fair. Plus is has been... fuck, a year and a half now. Shit...
"Yeah, I got 'em," Daisuke says abruptly after a moment, startling Mondo a little. Shit, he's gotta get his head on right... "Set some options aside fer ya ta choose from, since it seems like this shit matters ta ya. C'mon, kid. Follow me."
Mondo watches as Daisuke heads behind the counter, feeling just a touch wary. He shakes the feeling off, though, knowing that while they may not be on the best of terms at the moment, Daisuke would never fucking sell him out. At the very least, the old bastard respects Daiya and his memory too much for that. He hopes...
Behind the counter is a door, which Daisuke leads him through. Mondo looks around the space curiously and sees that it's a small-ish storage room that has a bunch of shit on shelves. There's a lot of supplies for the shop in it, things like extra coolant and motor oil to replace any that runs out in the shop itself. It's not quite the high-quality shit he likes to use on his baby, but it ain't too bad a selection, he supposes. Daisuke ignores all that, though, and heads over to the back wall where he can see a few helmets hanging. Mondo eyes them critically as Daisuke turns to face him, grunting again.
"So? Like any a' them? Ain't got the hugest selection, but these three are the best a' the bunch. Should protect yer boy's skull decently should ya get in an accident, 'least."
Mondo grunts back in acknowledgment, still eyeing the wares, reaching out to look at them closer. One of them is a simple black helmet without the shield, similar to a bicycle helmet, which he is very tempted by, but ultimately dismisses. While it would give Taka more of the authentic experience, he knows it would make the kid feel more anxious, wondering if it would be enough. The second option seems good, a sleek red number with a decent shaded shield, but when he holds it, it doesn't have a good weight to it. While he doesn't wear them often, Mondo knows a good quality helmet when he feels it, and this shit... well, it ain't crap, but it certainly ain't good enough for his Taka.
The last of the selection, though, is more promising. It's a shiny, black, full-face helmet, with a clear shield and a good clasp under the chin. When he holds it, it has some heft to it, letting him know it will protect fairly well. He eyes it critically for any possible imperfection, but when he sees none, he nods in satisfaction.
"This one should do fine, shit. Should keep Ta- the kid safe. Got the other shit too?" Mondo questions, stumbling only a little over Taka's name. He doesn't know why exactly, but he strangely doesn't want Daisuke to know just who Taka is. And he wouldn't put it past the nosy bastard to have done some digging into his year at Hope's Peak, honestly.
Daisuke seems to have noticed his stumble if his raised eyebrow is to go by, but he thankfully doesn't comment on it. Instead, he just silently gestures over to some shit on the counter, which Mondo can see are fucking knee pads. Fucking bullshit, but he knows Taka would want it, so he resigns himself to looking them over.
After some deliberation, he picks out a sturdy looking pair, putting them inside the hollow of the helmet for the time being. He's a little shocked by how simple this shit was, especially compared to the struggle he had with /baking/, but he supposes it makes sense. It's just picking out gear. Part of him wants to leave immediately now that he has the shit he came for, but he can tell by the way Daisuke is looking at him that the bastard has shit to say, and he might as well just get it over with. Wouldn't want him calling up a storm again, like he did after... shit, whatever. With a heavy sigh, Mondo settles a peevish look at the former biker, scowl still on his lips.
"Shit. Just fuckin' get on with it, goddamn. What the fuck d'ya wanna say, huh?" he bites, teeth gritting when he sees Daisuke roll his eyes, not at all intimidated by him. Goddamnit...
"Dunno. Gonna deck me if I say it?" Daisuke replies evenly, eyebrow still raised. It annoys Mondo even more, but he reins it in. Barely. He knows he doesn't have to hang around and do this shit, knows he could just leave, but... fuck. He knows this gear ain't cheap, the helmet alone prolly a good ¥20000, maybe more, and considering that Daisuke is giving him this shit for free... well. Figures he can handle a heart to fucking heart if that's what Daisuke wants. Shit... but goddamn does he not wanna do this shit... ugh.
With a tense shake of the head, Mondo eyes Daisuke warily, tense as shit.
"Can't make promises, but I'll try ta contain myself. Now, shit. Get on with it. Ain't got all fuckin' day..."
Daisuke eyes him for a moment longer, which makes him want to squirm like an infant, fuck. But he ain't that weak, so he curbs it and just stares steadily back. Finally, Daisuke sighs and shakes his head, a wry grin on his face.
"Ya know somethin'? Can't believe I'm sayin' this shit, but I fuckin' missed ya, kid. Ain't no one can pull off the prickly porcupine demeanor better than you, shit. Like traversin' a mine field tryin' ta have a conversation with ya," Daisuke chuckles, shaking his head again. It makes Mondo's hackles rise once more, not liking the way he said that shit. Daisuke moves on before he can say anything, though. "But I guess I'm just wonderin' who this friend a' yers is. Gotta be someone ya met at that prissy school, yeah? Looked inta yer year, an' I gotta say, ya got a bunch a' weird fuckin' jackasses as classmates, that's fer damn sure. Shit, yer friend ain't that fat one, is it? Dude looked like a fuckin' creep, not gonna lie..."
Mondo scowls even deeper at the statement, his glare deadly on the old biker. Daisuke doesn't seem to care though, as he's just grinning up a storm. Utter bastard. Completely and fully. God fucking damn... but he fucking knew it. Bastard looked into his year. Fucking /stalker/.
"The fuck does it matter ta you, huh? Can be fuckin' friends with whoever the fuck I wanna, ain't no one's business but my own. But fuck, /no/, ain't friends with fuckin' /Yamada/. Guy may be a talented artist, I'll give him that, but he's so fuckin' disgustin', the way he talks 'bout people, chicks 'specially. Now, is that all ya fuckin' wanted, or have ya got more useless shit ta ask?"
Mondo is glaring at Daisuke still, oddly uncomfortable about this line of questioning. He honestly doesn't know why, he's not ashamed of Taka, but just... he knows his crowd wouldn't get it. What he sees in the kid. And he really would rather not break his knuckles busting in this fucker's face...
However... after a moment's pause, he watches as... as Daisuke's face shifts. It goes from smug smirking to a small, somewhat unhappy grimace, the older biker shaking his head as he looks away, something entering his eyes that Mondo definitely does not like. He looks almost... disappointed. And Mondo shouldn't care, shouldn't give a single fuck, but... oh, goddamnit...
"Goddamn, kid. 'M not tryin' ta hassle ya, just... 'm just tryin' ta figure more out 'bout this new life a' yers. Ever since Daiya... shit. I know ya were super close ta him, kid. An' I know you an' I weren't that close, but ya know I viewed you an' Dai like family. Hearin' what happened ta him... shit broke my fuckin' heart. I kept tryin' ta call ya, ta let ya know ya didn't hafta be alone, but ya never fuckin' answered. You can imagine my fuckin' shock when I overheard the news that not only were ya in town, but that yer attendin' that fuckin' high-class school now. Wanted ta reach out again, see how ya were, but I just... didn't fuckin' know if ya'd want that shit. Made it perfectly fuckin' clear ya didn't wanna see me after the funeral. Thought maybe ya might a' changed yer mind after ya called, but I guess fuckin' not. Just... hope things work out well fer you an' yer kid. Mean that. Ya deserve ta be happy, Mondo. An'... know y'ain't gonna wanna hear me say this shit, but I know Dai would be proud as fuck if he could see ya today. Fuck, ya look so fuckin' grown up... makes me feel like an old crone, goddamn. But... it really was nice seein' ya today, kid. Real fuckin' nice."
Mondo stares wide eyed at the man across from him, and he can't even begin to describe the shit going on inside his chest, hearing Daisuke say that goddamn bullshit. He... he just... fuck. He hadn't realized the bastard cared about him at all. He- he just thought... he just thought he only looked out for him for Daiya's sake. That he didn't actually care about Mondo individually, that he just knew that Daiya cared about him, and he cared enough about Daiya to put up with Mondo's bullshit. Mondo... Mondo has always been hard to get close to, had put his walls up so high and so fast as a kid that no one could ever break through to see his bloody innards, save only Daiya. And sometimes… not even Daiya.
And because of that, he never thought Daisuke cared. Not with how hard it was for the dude to get even two polite sentences out of him on a good day. It was Daiya that Daisuke was close to, not Mondo. And considering that what happened to- to Daiya was- w-was his... h-/his fucking fault/, he... he didn't think he deserved to have Daiya's mentor care about him. He never answered the calls, knowing that whatever Daisuke wanted wasn't something Mondo could give.
But... if the old biker is to be believed...
Maybe he does care. At least a little.
It makes Mondo ache inside to think about, his eyes stupidly heavy at the thought of it. The thought that someone other than Taka actually /cares/. He pushes the stupid as fuck feeling away as best that he can, knowing he can't focus on this shit, shaking his head subtly to try and clear the maudlin fucking thoughts. And while it does chase away the heaviness, it doesn't quite clear the feeling entirely. And he... he thinks...
Maybe he should give the dude something. I-it doesn't gotta be a lot, but just... shit. Something. Anything…
"His name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru. But I... uh, I call him Taka. Or Kiyo. Or- or fuckin'... kyoudai. We, uh... we're super fuckin' close. He's the, uh... the Ultimate Moral Compass, which I /know/, fuckin' ironic that we're friends, but he... shit. He's so fuckin' /good/. Wanted ta hate him fer it at first, thought he was just lyin' 'bout bein' moral an' shit, but... fuck. He really is that fuckin' good, man. Fuckin' fergave me fer all the shit I put him through, which, uh... was a lot. An' he... he looks at me. L-like I... like I ain't the fuckin' screw up criminal I know I fuckin' am. Ain't been friends long, just 'bout two weeks, but I... fuck. I don't wanna lose him. He... he's just... f-fuck..."
Mondo is staring at the floor, hands clenched uselessly at his sides, so tense he might as well be a marble statue. He hadn't meant to say all that, fuck. God, but he fucking hates being open and shit. It... it's so fucking easy with Taka, his heart laid bare for the kid without any fucking problem. Even /crying/ in front of him wasn't as godawful as it usually had been, back when he'd been young and would sometimes let himself cry in front of other people. Taka just... it's easy, with him. Simple. Taka doesn't judge him, not ever, and he's so fucking kind all the time. He- he's just... f-fuck he's incredible. He... he...
He jolts when he feels a rough but still somewhat gentle hand touch his shoulder, his eyes darting up while his heart begins to race. Because... because he's not with Taka. Not now. And he- he... he can't help but wonder if Daisuke had been lying. That he doesn't care, doesn't care at all, because why the fuck would he? Mondo is nothing but trouble, pricklier than a cactus, the worst person to try and get close to. Why- why the /fuck/ would Daisuke care about him, huh? Fuck, why does /Taka/ care about him, he shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but he- he... f-fuck...
"Sounds like an incredible fuckin' kid, kid. Ain't ev'ry fuckin' day ya meet a person like that, ya know," Daisuke says softly, his voice still gruff but... gentler. Like it had been when Mondo was young and was still terrified to be around him, stupidly afraid he'd turn out like his da and hurt him. It makes Mondo want to cry again, but he stuffs it down, knowing he can't. No one... no one is allowed to see him cry. No one but Taka... "It, uh... reminds me a' my girl. Emiyo. She... heh. She always was the best a' me. Helped me become the man I am today. Kept tryin' ta get me away from the gangs an' shit, knew it wasn't good fer me, said I was better than that. An'... shit. Almost found it in me ta believe her. But then... fuck. Ya know what happened. Goddamn..."
Daisuke pauses then, face looking uncomfortably serious, and Mondo desperately wants to tear himself away and flee this conversation entirely. It... it was one thing, hearing Leon say bullshit about him and Taka's relationship. But... but to hear Daisuke likening them to- t-to him and the love of his fucking life... it...
But he doesn't. Tear himself away. Flee. He just stands there, stiff as stone, staring with wide eyes at the man before him. Waiting for him to continue. And when he does...
"Look. Know you an' yer brother had shit 'bout swingin' both ways. Much as I loved the kid, Dai had some shit he was weirdly insistent on an' nothin' could ever persuade him otherwise. But, Mondo... goddamnit. He wasn't right 'bout everythin'. He was a human, too, an' humans got flaws. An' I know yer piece a' shit ol' man liked both, an' I also know what one a' his boy toys almost did ta ya when ya were a kid. But... fuck. Don't let that shit stop ya from takin' what ya want. The way ya talk 'bout this kid... I never fuckin' saw ya look like that b'fore. So fuckin' free. If he makes ya happy, well an' truly happy... don't let that shit slip away, kid. Ya'll never fuckin' fergive yerself if ya do."
Mondo is fairly certain he's not breathing right now. His chest feels so tight, his body trembling despite himself, and he... he doesn't know what the fuck to do. He- he... Daisuke, he... he's /wrong, wrong, so fucking wrong. Mondo isn't like that, Taka isn't like that, their relationship isn't fucking like that. They are friends, kyoudai, and that is all. That is all, and he is so fucking sick of fucking bastards telling him what he does or doesn't feel. It doesn't fucking matter that Taka is the best goddamn thing to ever happen to him. It doesn't matter that he can't imagine life without him, even though he knows he'll have to deal with it one day when Taka wises up and leaves. And it doesn't matter that his mind, body, and fucking soul all feel so incredibly at peace when the kid is near him, touching him, his heart beating for Taka and Taka alone. It doesn't matter, because he's not fucking like that, he's not gay, and he's not allowed to switch, and he's fucking not allowed to like both, he fucking isn't, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't-/
"No," Mondo says flatly god knows how long later, everything in him wrong and broken. "Yer wrong. Taka an' I... we ain't fuckin' like that. He's my best friend. My kyoudai. And I... I don't view him that way. So, fucking... leave me the hell alone. I'm gonna fucking leave now and I- I don't ever wanna see yer goddamn face again. Forget my number and never contact me again. You understand me?"
Mondo has never felt so cold before, his insides like ice as he stares at Daisuke. He's usually so warm, his blood boiling constantly, but right now he feels like an ice statue. He wants to scream, wants to rage, but he can barely manage more than a whisper. He knows that Daisuke is surprised by the change, but Mondo... Mondo can't fix it. He doesn't know how. He wishes he'd never come to this goddamn shop, wishes he'd never called up this fucking number, wishes... a lot of fucking things.
But wishes aren't horses and Mondo can't turn back time, much as he wishes he fucking could. So, he just watches, numb, as Daisuke nods slowly, the old biker removing his hand and taking several steps back, seeming to realize how serious Mondo had been.
"I... shit. Fuckin'... shit. Still so fuckin' stubborn, ain't ya...? God... god fuckin' dammit. Fine. Fine. Ya wanna live the rest a' yer life with yer head in the goddamn sand, be my fuckin' guest. Cut me out, don't talk ta me ever again. Do whatever the fuck ya like. But I ain't lettin' ya leave without sayin' this. That boy? He's fuckin' special, kid. I can see it in yer eyes and hear it in yer voice when ya speak 'bout him. He matters, an' if ya wanna say it's just friendship yer feelin', then fine. Believe what ya want. But no matter what way ya see him, friend or more... don't let this shit slip away, Mondo. Ya don't get chances like this often. Ya've got a chance ta get out. Y'ain't gotta live this fuckin' life no more. Dai always wanted more fer ya than this, than a life a' violence an' anger. If this kid can give ya that... if he can help ya get out, make ya happy... then don't let him slip away. Hear me? Don't ever let him slip away."
Mondo stares blankly at the man before him, saying nothing as his jaw clenches so tightly it hurts. He wants to scream, wants to punch something, /do/ something, but he feels so fucking cold. Instead, he just grabs the gear he came here to get and storms past Daisuke, ignoring everything as he heads outside to his hog, getting on as soon as he reaches her, before streaking away.
He... he doesn't know what the fuck he's feeling inside. He doesn't know how to begin processing the goddamn /bullshit/ that fucking asshole said to him. He doesn't even want to try, so he doesn't, he doesn't, and he just keeps driving, faster and faster, not caring about goddamn /shit/.
Eventually, Mondo passes by a liquor store. It's not like it's unusual, liquor stores are dime a dozen, but he knows this one doesn't care about his fake id. Screeching into the first available spot, Mondo storms into the store, ignoring the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Taka that tells him he should stop, that he shouldn't do this, that he's /better than this/. But... but what the fuck does he know?! W-what the fuck... s-shit, this is all he fucking is! A biker, an alcoholic, a fucking abusive monster! Taka may be deluding himself to think he's better than that, may think he- he has some hint of /goodness/ inside him, but he...
He doesn't. He doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't at all. And he doesn't deserve to have someone who thinks otherwise.
How could he, when he's a goddamn /murderer/?
He lets out a sharp exhale at the thought, his hands shaking as he grabs his usual cheap booze. He hasn't drunk much since he became friends with Taka, knowing the kid doesn't approve, but he has been craving it like a motherfucker. He hates himself for it, hates his fucking weakness, but he... h-he... he doesn't care. He just... he doesn't...
As he storms through the store to the register, he finds himself passing by the wine section. Usually, Mondo doesn't think twice about wine, hating the prissy shit, but he finds himself faltering in front of the rows upon rows of bottles, his feet freezing despite his mind telling them to move. He just stares at the bottles, heart aching so fiercely, wondering what the fuck is happening to him. What is /wrong/ with him. He... he...
He is reminded for some fucking reason of the plans he had for this evening. For him and Taka and their fucking /ride/. And he feels so cold inside still, feels wrong and broken and /disgusting/, but... but he...
He can't stop thinking about it. About Taka. And him. And Daiya's lake, the one place in the world he feels closest to his dead brother. He... he wonders what Taka will think of the lake. If he- if he takes him. He wonders if he'll love it as much as Mondo does. He wonders if he'll love the ride as much as Mondo does. Prolly not, but maybe... maybe he'll like it a little? U-unlikely, but... but maybe... maybe...
He thinks of the picnic he spent so many hours preparing for that morning and early afternoon. Thinks of the look on Taka's face when he realizes that Mondo did it, all of it, for /him/. The bright pink cheeks, the dazed but decidedly happy eyes, the- the soft and gentle smile that is reserved for Mondo and Mondo alone. Thinks of how he would drift closer to Taka, hand brushing his cheek, needing to touch him, to hold him, just a little. Just a touch. Something, something, fucking something. Anything. God, please... anything.
And he... he wants...
But he can't. Want. Not like that. Taka is his kyoudai, his brother, and he can't... can't...
He's grabbing the first bottle of wine he sees without thinking about it, hands shaking as he marches stiffly to the counter and has the clerk ring up the bottle of wine, but not the bottles of whiskey he'd chosen earlier. The clerk seems annoyed at that, but Mondo doesn't give a single fuck. He just grabs the stupidly expensive bottle and storms out, mind blank and face a mask.
He barely pays attention to the ride back to Hope's Peak, everything in him still fucked up, but he... he refuses to let that ruin this shit. He- he still... he still has to fix his bullshit from yesterday. He can't do that if he lets his fucking nonsense make everything so much worse. He can't earn the forgiveness he doesn't deserve if he- he doesn't... if he doesn't...
He arrives at the school and parks his hog with barely a thought. He gives her a single pat on the side as he opens his storage and grabs the wine from inside, stuffing it quickly into his deep pocket. He's then rushing inside and through the halls, not letting anything distract him as he heads for his room. He knows it's later than he wants it to be, but he doesn't think he's late. Not just yet. He will be if he doesn't hurry. He doesn't run, though. Taka... Taka wouldn't want that...
Luckily, he reaches his room quickly, his hands fumbling with the key card, but he gets there eventually. He sees his basket on the table, right where he left it, and he opens it immediately to stuff the wine bottle inside, adding some plastic wine glasses he has hanging around. It's a very tight fit, but he makes it work. He covers it up with the blanket, feeling oddly anxious about its presence, and he doesn't know what the fuck he is doing. He never does, has always just gone on instinct and passion, but now, he... he feels so fucking lost, so confused, and he doesn't know what the fuck to do. He- he wants to make this the best day ever for Taka, to prove that he's more than a worthless fuck up who ruins everything, but... but as he stares at basket full of food he painstakingly created, a bottle of goddamn /wine/ stuffed in there, his heart pounding and aching and yearning, he-
_He can't escape the thought that this feels like a date. Like he- he's preparing for a fucking date._
No. No. Fucking... no.
He just wants to apologize. All the shit he did to Taka... and not just the previous day. The entire time he's known him, even during these past couple weeks. The... the fucking /slur/ he called him, all because he can't control his anger and his inner bullshit. H-he needs to apologize. Somehow... he has to apologize and show that he means it when he says he's trying. To do better. To /be/ better. And it's not much, it's not anything, but it's all he has to give and he just... he has to...
Shit.
The fact is, Taka is going to leave him one day. That's the shit that people like Daisuke can't fucking realize. It's gonna fucking happen whether he wants it to or not, no matter what. He can't hold onto this shit; he'll never be able to hold onto this shit. He knows it. He's always known it. But he can't just let it crumble to dust without fucking /trying/. God, is he trying. It won't be enough in the long run, he'll fuck this shit up eventually, but for now… for now, this is what he can do. Create a fucking /picnic/ to a place that means more to him than he'll ever confess, trying pathetically to apologize for being himself. For being the monster that he was born to be. That doesn't make this shit _a fucking date_ anything that it isn't. It doesn't… it fucking /doesn't/. He doesn't want that shit, he doesn't, he doesn't, he… he just…
God fucking /dammit/.
He has to text Taka. It's getting late, nearing 4:00, and he promised Taka he'd text him. A small, crumbling smile rises on his face as he remembers the distasteful way Taka had said the word 'text.' Like it personally offended him. G-god, he's so prim and proper... god, Mondo _loves_ _adores_ appreciates it.
Taking out his phone with only slightly shaky hands, he ignores the last contact he has on his stupid as fuck screen and scrolls quickly to find Taka's name. It makes his smile widen to see it, even as his heart clenches. He's opening the app and sending a message before he can think about it, choosing to use full words and proper grammar, like... like Taka likes.
To: Kiyo: /Hey, Kyoudai. I'm done getting my things. Ready to leave?/
Mondo anxiously looks over the message for any possible mistakes, correcting them slowly, more uptight about punctuation and grammar than he's ever been before. But it- it's gotta be perfect. For Taka. For that perfect as fuck boy who for some reason thinks there's something worthwhile about him, even though there's /not/. And he'll see that one day, it's inevitable, but god, does he want to delay that day as long as fucking possible. To... to maybe be there to see Taka make the history he knows he will... it's as un-fucking-likely as Mondo doing shit with his worthless, pathetic life, but he can always hope.
But he doesn't have time to obsess endlessly, Taka is waiting for him, so he sends the message and hopes Taka finds it acceptable.
The wait for Taka's reply is torture, the seconds slipping by agonizingly slowly, but Mondo knows the kid is prolly the type to spend ages typing out his responses, like they're sacred letters sent to the most important of contacts, checking every single letter for a mistake. It makes him smile to think of, even through the ache in his chest.
Finally, about a minute after he sent his text, he feels his phone buzz. And he greedily reads the message Taka put, heart beating fast.
From: Kiyo:
/Kyoudai!
I'm glad to hear you are finished! I've been looking forward to this 'ride' all day! I must admit, I never thought I'd say something like that! But it's true!
I am currently in my room, working on that Literature project we have due next week. Yes, I already finished it, but it's always good to check for mistakes!
Sincerely yours,
Taka/.
Mondo's heart beats faster than ever as he gets to the closer Taka sent, his lips silently saying the words as the ice that had begun to form inside him earlier finally starts to melt. Everything inside him is still swirling, but he... he knows that if he were to see Taka... to hold him, touch him, just a little...
Unable to stop himself now that he knows where his kyoudai is, he grabs his basket and stands on shaky legs. He takes a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the nerves, before he's marching out of his room and into the hall. And the absolute second that he reaches the kid's door, he's raising his hand and pressing the doorbell firmly, once, and then returning it to his side. He feels so nervous for some reason, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty, and he knows he has to curb this ridiculousness before Taka sees it and questions it.
But then the door is opening. And then Taka is there. And then Taka is smiling, smiling, so bright is he smiling. Like Mondo is something impressive to see. Like Mondo is someone deserving of such a smile.
He isn't.
God, he isn't.
But it's so nice to pretend.
"Kyoudai! You're here!" Taka exclaims, eyes bright and smile happy. It makes Mondo's heart clench, but in such a good way. He can't fight the grin that rises on his lips, nor the chuckle he lets out, so unbelievably, /stupidly/ happy to see his kyoudai. It's only been half a day, and yet it feels like centuries since he last saw this incredible as fuck kid. Jesus...
"Y-yeah. Was that ever in fuckin' doubt, kyoudai? Told ya I'd be here, ya know," he says as casually as he can, eyes absently looking inside the room behind Taka. He's been in there before, many times in the last two weeks, though they both seem to prefer hanging out in Mondo's room when they have the chance. However... he does a double take when he sees the previously empty counter, eyes intent on the replica of /his fucking hog/ sitting innocently there, in prime real estate, a place where everyone who knocks on the kid's door will see it. And it... it...
"Oh! I put out your gift, I hope you don't mind! I love it, kyoudai, and I thank you again for gifting it to me! It was very thoughtful of you!" he hears Taka exclaim after a moment of him staring at the hog. It makes his cheeks heat up at the fact he'd been caught staring, but he can't find it in him to mind too much. Not when Taka is smiling at him like that, like he /matters/. Like he did something right, for once. It makes Mondo chuckle, everything in him settling now that he's close to his kyoudai again.
"Nah, don't worry 'bout it, man. Glad ya... glad ya like it. Anyway... ya ready ta get goin'?"
His heart flutters at the thousand-watt smile Taka gives, his head nodding enthusiastically as he carefully exits his room, closing the door firmly behind him.
"Of course, kyoudai! I'm incredibly excited to see what you have planned! Does... does the basket have something to do with our ride?" Taka asks quizzically, his head tilted slightly as he looks pointedly at the basket, looking so fucking cute it's not fair. He almost wants to give in and tell Taka what he has planned, but... shit. It's supposed to be a surprise. He... he wants Taka to experience this shit fully, after all...
"Hey, no fuckin' questions, dude. It's a fuckin' surprise. Ya'll find out later, ya damn impatient bastard. Now, c'mon. Got a bit ofa time crunch, so let's get goin' quick. No time fer 'dilly dallyin',' or whatever the fuck ya call it."
Taka's laugh is always the best fucking sound he's ever heard, he thinks faintly as he watches Taka nod, his head thrown back in a laugh, the kid's feet shifting towards the exit of the school. It's like a bell, high and happy and utterly /beautiful/. He's been hearing it more and more often these days, but he privately thinks that it's not often enough. He... he wants to always be hearing that laugh. It's so fucking beautiful...
As the pair walk down the halls together, Taka striking up a conversation about their math class last week, Mondo... Mondo realizes he could get used to this. Talking to Taka, easy and light, not a care in the fucking world. He knows it will die one day, knows— despite what that bastard said— that this will slip away from him no matter what he does, but... but...
But it's okay. Well, no, it's not, but it's better than nothing. Having Taka like this in any capacity, in any way at all... especially after all the shit he's done... it... it's enough for him. More than enough. It's more than he deserves, he knows that. And he won't let his own nonsense ruin this prematurely.
He... he will admit. He cares about Taka. Very, very deeply. H-he... he maybe even /loves him/. L-like a brother, of course. Like family. And he guesses that other people who see this shit might get confused. Right? Think that it's more than it is. But Mondo... Mondo knows the truth. He and Taka are friends. Kyoudai. Nothing more. Thankfully nothing less. They work well together for reasons Mondo will never understand but is far too selfish to dispute. Taka is perfection incarnate, and Mondo is helpless to deny him a single, goddamn thing. He... he...
So, he'll do all he can do keep this as long as he can. He'll listen to Taka as he rambles about random academic related topics. He'll chime in with input when desired. He'll let his free hand brush against the back of Taka's, privately adoring the way the kid falters every time it happens, his cheeks pink and his scarlet eyes darting over to look at him shyly. He won't let himself grab the hand, like he aches to do, because that would be /inappropriate/, but that's okay. It... it's okay.
He and Taka are going out for a ride. And it's gonna be fucking /perfect/. And that... is all that matters.
