Part IX
Takeshi slammed his house phone back into its cradle and stomped outside for a smoke and a breath of fresh air. It was the third time that day that he'd tried calling both Shingo's house line and cell phone, and gotten no answer. He didn't even want to count the number of times he'd tried calling in the last few days. This is getting ridiculous! What did that moron do, die or something? Shit!
He puffed angrily on his cigarette and scowled at his car. He was almost done with his smoke when an idea occurred to him. Suddenly moved to action, he tossed the remainder of the cigarette away and jumped into the GT-R. He can't avoid me forever!
The sleek Skyline pulled into the parking lot of the shabby apartment building and eased into a space. Takeshi leaped out of the car and literally ran up the five flights of stairs to Shingo's apartment.
"Shingo!" he yelled, pounding loudly on the door. "Shingo!"
The door failed to open, which threw Takeshi into a fit of rage fueled by days of pent-up frustration.
"Dammit! Fuck!" he shouted, and continued to beat and kick the door. "Shingo! Who do you think you are? You can't avoid me forever! I swear to god you better open this door before I fuck you up! Shingo! You hear me?"
"HEY! The dead could hear you!"
Takeshi's head whipped around to find Shingo's next door neighbor, a very scary (and angry) looking man, glaring at him.
"What the hell's your problem, man? If he ain't home, he ain't home!" the man drawled at him.
"He /is/ home! He's just purposely ignoring me!"
"No he ain't! He left for work twenty minutes ago."
Takeshi had been working himself up to a righteous wrath, but that put a rather abrupt stop to it, almost like cruising down the freeway at 100kph, and suddenly slamming to a halt for road construction.
"What? How do you know?"
"Because he goes to work at the same time every fuckin' day. Don't you know that? What kind of friend are you?"
Takeshi simply glared in response, the struggle to keep his imminent explosion in check obviously requiring too much effort for him to offer a verbal reply. The man continued, oblivious of the dangerous ground he was treading on.
"Besides, I heard him leave myself. These walls are like tissue…I can hear everything that goes on in that apartment." The man wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Takeshi paled.
"You just better remember that next time, young man. Love may be deaf, dumb, and blind, but the neighbors sure as hell ain't! Now pipe down before I call the cops!" And with that, the grizzled man slammed his door shut in Takeshi's face.
The Night Kids team leader blinked in surprise at the closed door, then his face flushed red with a mixture of embarrassment and unutterable fury.
"Shingo…you're gonna pay for this, you little weasel," he grumbled darkly as he stalked back to his car.
"You're coming!"
"No, I'm not! Leave me alone, Michi!" Shingo groused obstinately. He crossed to the kitchen and started to rummage around in the fridge.
"Shingo! You have to come to this meet! If you don't come, everyone will think you're too much of a coward to show your face. Do you really want that?"
"No," he muttered, retreating from the fridge with a can of iced coffee in hand. He sipped at the can moodily, glaring at the car keys on his counter. "I don't even have my car back. How can they expect me to be there?"
Michio sighed.
"You know full well that car or no, they'll be expecting you. If you don't show, you lose face. Why are you so stubborn anyway? It's not so bad. Just stick with me, and no one's gonna say anything."
"Yeah, but…" Shingo scowled. Takeshi will say something. He didn't want to have to explain to Michio that he had been actively avoiding Takeshi all week long, and that going to the meet would almost definitely lead to an undesired confrontation. Nor did he wish to explain why.
Damn you, Nakazato, you could have warned me. If I'd known I meant nothing to you, I wouldn't have let it go so far.
He crushed the empty aluminum can in his grip and threw it into the rubbish bin.
"Fine, let's go," he said grimly, snatching his keys off the counter and heading out the door.
Shingo puffed nervously on his cigarette, glancing around anxiously every few minutes to make sure Takeshi wasn't heading his way. In fact, the GT-R driver had been staring at him for most of the night, obviously trying to get his attention. But he had very carefully avoided eye contact with him. It had been fairly easy to ignore him because of the fact that Shingo was car-less. He had spent the evening practically glued to Michio, alternately sitting in his car, and sitting on it. The two of them had also been surrounded by other drivers, for the most part. But now that the meeting was breaking up, Shingo worried that Takeshi would find a way to corner him.
"Hey Michi, let's get outta here."
"Hang on, I want to check out Akio's new box."
Shingo sighed and was starting to follow the crowd heading towards Akio's thumping 180 when he was grabbed roughly from behind. He whirled around to find Nakazato Takeshi glowering at him from a distance of about three centimeters. His heart jumped into his throat as he looked around frantically for his friends. Shit! Where'd he come from?
"Bet you're wondering where I came from! I can't believe I had to sneak up on you just to get you to pay attention to me!" Takeshi jabbed a finger accusingly at him. "Now why are you avoiding me?"
"This is hardly the time!" Shingo hissed.
Takeshi snatched a fistful of his T-shirt and shook him violently.
"Don't fuck with me, Shouji, or I swear I'll beat you bloody!" Takeshi snarled. "Come here!" he demanded, dragging Shingo towards his car like a delinquent child.
"Hey, get your fucking hands off me!" Shingo cried indignantly.
"That's not what you were saying last weekend!" he growled, slamming Shingo against the Skyline. "Now talk!"
"You son of a bitch! What right do you have to get self righteous with me?"
"I have every right! One second everything's fine, and the next you're not answering my calls and you won't even look at me! Are you fucking toying with me, Shingo? Because I'm getting real sick of it."
"ME toying with YOU? Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
"You left me, Nakazato! And then I come to find out that apparently, you do this often, to a lot of different people! Now how the hell am I supposed to feel about that?"
"Hey! I had to leave; my parents had an emergency. And when I tried to tell you, you wouldn't answer your phone! So don't even blame that on me! And what the hell do you mean, I do this often? Do what?"
"Do what?" Shingo snorted. "Girls, guys, animals, anything that moves, whatever. I think the question here is, what don't you do?"
"Are you trying to say you think I sleep around?"
"You're so quick, no wonder they call you the Black Lightening!"
And with that, Takeshi punched him in the stomach. He went down like a sack of rocks and lay gulping like a landed fish on the ground at Takeshi's feet.
"You asshole! Who are you to judge me?" Takeshi's foot nudged him none too gently in the side.
"Shit Takeshi, that really hurt," he gasped.
A look of remorse briefly flitted across Takeshi's face to be replaced by one of defiance. He crossed his arms and glared.
"Alright, so I had a rash of short-term relationships. So what? That doesn't mean-"
"Short-term relationships? Give me a fucking break!" Shingo wheezed from his illustrious place on the ground.
"Alright, fine! They were lays, that what you want me to say? They were fucks alright? That what you want to hear?" he exploded.
Using the car for support, Shingo hauled himself laboriously to his feet. He leaned heavily against the car and spent several moments catching his breath before continuing.
"Is that all I am to you? A cheap fuck?" he spat.
"What?" Takeshi's eyes went wide with astonishment.
Shingo ignored him and continued to rant,
"Because, I can understand if it was just a fling, or if you're slumming or something. But I just wish you would have told me, so I wouldn't have gotten so…" he trailed off, suddenly too embarrassed to continue.
"So what?" Takeshi prompted impatiently.
"…carried away," he finished wryly. He swept a hand through his hair and glanced briefly at Takeshi before looking away again.
Takeshi's burning rage melted into a quiet disappointment. Shingo flinched as Takeshi reached towards him, throwing his hands up reflexively. The GT-R driver ignored his reaction and cupped his cheek, gently turning his head so their eyes met.
"Is that all you really think of me?"
Shingo tore his gaze away from the disappointment in Takeshi's eyes. He wrenched himself free of the other driver's grasp and turned his back on him. Hands braced against the GT-R's pillars, he stared at his reflection in the driver's side window.
"I don't know what to think," he said at last.
"Did it ever occur to you to wonder why I kept trying to call, if I didn't care? Shit, Shingo, I even went to your apartment, but you weren't there."
"You…did?" A small seed of hope sprouted to life amidst the weeds of hurt and betrayal.
"Yes," Takeshi replied, sighing wearily. He moved so close that Shingo could feel his body heat through his thin T-shirt. "Shingo…those girls meant about as much to me as I did to them. You think they gave a shit about me? All they wanted were bragging rights. Those were flings. This, you, are different." He shivered as Takeshi breathed the last in his ear, nuzzling his neck softly.
"Maybe that's true…" Shingo whispered gruffly.
"But?"
"But how do I know you're not lying?"
Takeshi sighed in exasperation.
"You don't."
Shingo turned around and cocked his head suspiciously.
"What?"
"I don't have any proof. You'll just have to trust me." Takeshi stared intently at him.
Silence.
"Well?"
"I…" Shingo looked away, staring at the moths that fluttered to the street lamps overhead. He /did/ try to call…and he even came to see you… "suppose," he relented at last. Who would ever have thought he'd be putting his trust in Nakazato Takeshi, of all people? If someone had told him that a few months ago, he would probably have decked them. But somehow the shift was fitting. Somehow it felt…right.
Takeshi's lips twitched in amusement.
"Well, that sounded convincing."
Shingo stared at him in shock for a moment before he realized that Takeshi was joking. He smirked slightly.
Pulling Takeshi into his arms, he claimed his lips in a crushing kiss. He buried his hands in the GT-R driver's thick hair as Takeshi's tongue explored his mouth. Strong hands worked their way down his back to rest on his hips. Takeshi moaned softly against his lips. Shingo pulled away slightly to gaze into his endless eyes. "That convincing enough for you?" he murmured.
Takeshi smiled, his eyes shining faintly in the moonlight.
"Quite."
Shingo frowned.
"You give in too easily!" he teased. "I had so much more…"
The Nissan driver snorted and yanked him closer by his belt loops.
"So show me…"
The constant unnoticed background music stopped rather abruptly. In the ensuing silence,
"Yo, Shingo!" Michio shouted from across the gallery. The two drivers sprang apart guiltily and tried to act nonchalant.
"Yes?" Shingo gestured impatiently. "What?"
"Um, we're leaving. Don't you want a ride home?" asked Michio, squinting through the gloom at him. Thankfully, because of the Silvia driver's position under the bright street lamp, and their location in the more dimly lit section of the gallery, it was almost impossible for him to see anything more than their vague outlines. "Is everything ok?"
"Everything's fine," Takeshi answered in a tone of voice that can only be described as a verbal glare. "I'll take him home."
"Oh," the driver replied anxiously. "Uh, ok then. Bye, Shingo! Goodnight, Takeshi." He and the few Night Kids who were left in the gallery beat a hasty retreat.
"That was close!" Takeshi breathed.
Shingo sighed and affectionately nuzzled his neck.
"Hmm. Now, where were we?"
"I believe," Takeshi murmured, kissing him softly, "you were going to show me something."
Shingo smiled slyly.
"Oh…yeah…"