Title: Little Conversations
Author: Hawk Clowd
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing and I want nothing. I think these boys would cost me too much money in condoms and lubricant, quite frankly, if they didn't run me dry from the beer and cigarette runs.
Blood Type: NyQuil
Warnings: Sleep-deprived insanity.
Part: Nine.
Author's Notes: I finished NaNoWriMo and this is my reward (is that sad? I think it kind of is). In other news, did you all know that this story was originally just supposed to be a few vignettes thrown together when I had time? Now it's apparently turned into an actual story. With bits of consistency thrown in. It's so very bizarre.
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Eiri sounded irritated when he finally answered the phone and, since it was just after midnight and Eiri had apparently gone to bed at a reasonable hour for a change, Tatsuha could almost understand why. Not that it mattered; he called anyway.
"This had better be one hell of an emergency," Eiri snapped.
Tatsuha only grinned. "My birthday is only twenty-seven days away!" he cried cheerfully into the phone. "Twenty-seven, Aniki!"
Eiri paused. "Is that it?" he asked.
"Well, yeah."
Tatsuha waited, but there was only a long, drawn-out silence. He frowned and checked his watch. Two minutes later, he cleared his throat.
"Aniki?" he asked. "Are you dead?"
"You called and woke me the fuck up just because you're getting another year older in twenty-something days?" Eiri asked.
"Twenty-seven," Tatsuha corrected. "And... Well, yeah." He grinned into the phone. "So did you get me something already? What is it? Will you tell me? Please?"
Eiri groaned. "You're an idiot," he grumbled. "An eighteen-year-old idiot."
"I'm not eighteen yet, Aniki -- that's why I called, remember?" Tatsuha switched the phone to his other ear and adjusted the way his pants fell on his hips. He was standing in front of his mirror, modeling a bit. He had to practice his new, suave, sophisticated look; there were only twenty-seven days left to get it down pat! That was less than a month!
"Just be glad I remembered your age," Eiri said. He sighed. "Is that the only reason you called? Honestly? To remind me that you're getting older and I need to buy you a goddamn gift?"
Tatsuha thought about that for a moment. "And because my getting older means you're getting older," he pointed out. "You're going to be twenty-five in February. Right?"
Eiri paused. "Yes," he said at last. "Why?"
"You're going to die soon."
The silence lasted for almost four full minutes this time. "Twenty-five does not mean I am going to die, Tatsuha. Twenty-five isn't even middle age."
"Yeah, but think about your odds," Tatsuha said. "I mean, you smoke a million packs of cigarettes a day --"
"Two," Eiri corrected.
"...you smoke two million packs of cigarettes a day and you drink enough beer to refill the fucking Pacific Ocean, should it ever dry up, you've fucked more girls than should be permitted to one guy, and you drive like you're on speed, except worse," Tatsuha said. "You're going to die soon."
"I'm not going to die soon."
"You are," Tatsuha corrected. "Hell, I'm amazed you lasted this long. Twenty-five. Wow. My hat is off to you." Tatsuha glowered at the mirror. Ooh. That was a good look. He would have to remember that for when he finally turned eighteen and could master all the great sexy looks.
Eiri's frown was almost audible. "I'm not going to die," he said.
"That's what you think."
"I'm not."
Tatsuha shrugged. "Everyone's gotta do it eventually," he said. "And aside from all that stuff I said earlier, don't you get ulcers? Oh! And those headaches -- I almost forgot." Tatsuha nodded his head. "Yup. You're practically dead already."
"I am not."
"When you're dead, do you want Shuichi to sing a little song for you while we're burning you up?" Tatsuha asked. "He could probably write a good one. Or a decent one. Well, hell, at least he can sing. Maybe we'll just make him hum."
"Quit it."
Eiri was getting pissy, but Tatsuha didn't let that bother him. "Twenty-five. At least you lived a good life. Fought the good fight. Had a lot of sex."
"Twenty-five isn't old!"
"Whatever." Tatsuha inspected his fingernails. "Oh. That reminds me. Can I have your stuff when you finally kick the bucket or are you going to leave it all to Shuichi?"
"Tatsuha!"
Tatsuha rolled his eyes. "Well, fine. Then can I have Shuichi?"
"Fuck off, Tatsuha!"
When Tatsuha could actually hear Eiri fume, he knew it was time to lay off a little bit. He cleared his throat. "Right."
Eiri fumed for a little while longer and then seemed to suddenly calm down. "Are you quite done?" he asked through what sounded to be grit teeth.
"For now."
"Then are we finished here?"
"Almost."
Eiri paused. "What else is there to say?" he asked. "You've already condemned me to death once already. You can't do it twice in one night. It isn't allowed."
"Well, I have a question."
Eiri sounded suspicious. "What?"
"What'd you buy me for my birthday?"
Eiri hung up. Tatsuha grinned and let it slide, just this once. People as old and ready for death as Eiri needed to get their sleep.
